#*throws this your way* here fetch

[ghostlyyraccoon]

fast as you can

ship: kaveh x alhaitham

word count: 11534

warnings: minor violence, short mention of sexual assault 

chapters: 1/1

ao3 link: x

summary: “I returned to the tavern after I brought you home, found the man whose name you told me and punched him square in the face. Are you happy now?” Alhaitham leaned closer towards Kaveh. “Do you believe me?” There was a strange intensity to his eyes.The unexpected honesty had Kaveh utterly confused. For a moment, he was quiet as he ran his fingers over his temples.“I don't understand why you would do this for me. Is it to put me in even more debt? Don't I owe you enough already? Tighnari is convinced you did it for my sake.” He let out a dry laugh. “Unless you're like, secretly in love with me, there'd be no-” Kaveh's words, uttered without much thought, got stuck in his throat when for the shortest of moments, a conflicted expression ghosted over Alhaitham's face. Kaveh felt like the air was being pushed out of his lungs.“W- what was that?!”

.

Alhaitham considered himself a sensible man. He knew how to navigate his feelings, no matter how incomprehensible they tended to appear to the outside world. Oftentimes, his behaviour was seen as either rude or uncaring, yet Alhaitham rarely bothered to correct these assumptions. After all, there was some truth to them that he did not care to debate. He tolerated a set amount of social torment in a day and refused to even entertain the thought of willfully prolonging the experience.

At his house, it was a different story. Alhaitham’s homelife, once quiet and serene, had been turned upside down the moment Kaveh moved in, desperate and hellbent on keeping his new living arrangement a secret. Kaveh’s refusal to let anyone know about his circumstances was truly fascinating to Alhaitham, considering how the architect tended to complain about him to anyone within hearing range the moment a droplet of wine touched his lips.

Kaveh was currently at Lambad’s tavern, doing exactly that. Archons, he would have kept going if Lambad hadn’t called for Alhaitham to come and escort his tipsy roommate back home. Perhaps the fact that Kaveh had gotten involved in a slight brawl with another patron mere hours prior had worried the staff enough to reach out.

The Acting Grand Sage arrived less than half an hour later, the expression on his face unreadable as he nodded at Lambad in silent greeting before paying Kaveh’s tab.

“We are leaving,” he said as he passed by Kaveh, who was lounging on a couch, legs crossed and wine glass in hand. He spared Alhaitham a quick glance and rolled his eyes, refusing to move. When Alhaitham noticed that he had no intentions of getting up, he turned back around and gave him a quick once-over. For a moment, there seemed to be a silent conversation between the two men. They stared each other down, neither of them willing to budge.

“I am waiting,” Alhaitham finally said. “Unless you want to sleep on the streets tonight. If that’s what you’re aiming for, then be my guest.”

Kaveh scoffed and took another sip of his half-empty wine glass before pointing it in Alhaitham's direction. “Did you forget that I have a key? It was you who gave it to me, I might add!”

“Oh? You mean this key?” Alhaitham opened his palm and Kaveh was greeted by his lion keychain dangling off Alhaitham’s ring finger.

“Oh, you little-” Kaveh crossed his arms and leaned forward. His eyes were glowing in the tavern’s low lighting. “And why should I have to listen to you? Just because we live together doesn’t mean I have to go along with everything you say. What do you think I am, your lapdog?!”

A couple of patrons turned their heads around and exchanged curious glances as Alhaitham ran his hand across his face. He wasn’t wearing his earpieces and his expression looked fairly irritated. “Last chance,” he forced out, his tone more quiet than usual. With that, he waved Kaveh’s keys in front of his face again, an eyebrow raised expectantly. Kaveh leapt forward to reclaim what was his and almost got intimately acquainted with the sticky tavern floor in the process.

Kaveh was stumbling down the dimly lit streets, fuelled by two bottles of wine and a certain kind of delirium that only came for those destined to black out soon. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet for the majority of the walk and was most likely sulking due to his night out having been cut short.

After a few more wobbly steps, he unexpectedly began to talk again. “Say, Alhaitham,” he started. “Tell me one thing. Am I not…desirable? With my reputation, one would think there’d be admirers lining up at my front door. Yet all I get stuck with are these desperate good for nothings.”Despite his state of intoxication, he barely slurred his words, so it didn’t take Alhaitham much to understand him. After all, he’d left his earpieces at home and was now unwillingly suffering through the world at full volume.

He shot his roommate a quick side-glance. “For starters, you’d need a front door of your own for that, don’t you think?”

“You-” Kaveh started, but stumbled over his own feet before he could keep going. Alhaitham, attentive as usual, quickly wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him up before he could hit the ground. Kaveh’s body felt almost feverishly hot against his own chilly skin.

“You are infuriating!” Kaveh exclaimed, out of breath. He hit Ahaitham’s arm thrice in quick succession until the man let go of him again. “I am trying to tell you about this respectless bastard who tried to come onto me, getting all handsy and such! He wouldn't even take a no!”

Finally, Alhaitham turned to look at him. Knowing Kaveh, he’d let that man know exactly how he felt about the unwanted advances. Judging by his reaction, there was little need to worry. Despite knowing that, there was a feeling he couldn't name roaming in his chest.

“Knowing you, that man would’ve run away sooner or later regardless,” Alhaitham added from two steps behind. He pushed the unnamed sensation aside and bookmarked it for future review.

Kaveh gasped.“I don't even know why I try to talk to you. You-! You have the emotional sensibilities of a sumpter beast!” His cheeks flushed red with anger as he stared at him in disbelief. Alhaitham scoffed, but refused to say more.

“And another thing!” Kaveh turned back around, an accusing finger pointed at Alhaitham. “I could get a partner if I really put my back into it. It’s just that I’m too busy at the moment! That is all!”

“Is that so?” Alhaitham said stiffly, furrowing his brows. “Let me know when the time comes and I’ll extend my congratulations to the happy couple.”

Kaveh simply clicked his tongue and started walking faster. The rest of their walk was painted in silence. In spite of his apparent nonchalance, Alhaitham was deep in thought,  reflecting on his roommate’s words.

Then Kaveh stumbled a second time and despite his colourful words of protest, Alhaitham pulled his arm over his shoulder and kept him steady until they reached their house.

When Alhaitham finally unlocked the door, Kaveh was already hanging off his shoulder, threatening to fall to the ground. He wrestled him past the doorstep and as soon as the living room was in sight, Kaveh freed himself, stumbled the last few steps forward and crashed on the couch. His head hit the pillow and it was immediately clear the man was gone. Alhaitham watched him from several steps away.

Kaveh's cheek was pushed against his hand and his shirt had wandered, exposing freckled shoulders and a tanned chest. His last job in the desert had turned his skin into the softest shade of brown.

Alhaitham silently moved closer and leaned down, one forearm braced against the couch’s backrest. He tilted his head to the side as he watched Kaveh’s breathing calm down. His hair, pale like wheat, was looking far from pristine with the way it was spread out over the pillow and covering a good part of his face. His lips, plump and wine-tinted, were slightly parted.

Alhaitham allowed himself a good look. The soft sound of Kaveh’s breathing filled his ears. The room was so quiet he could almost hear his own heartbeat.

It was calm moments like these where he was most certain he was losing the rational part of his mind. He knew far too well what his feelings for his roommate meant, knew against his own judgement that the feelings he harboured were far from the camaraderie one should feel for a former classmate. Against better judgement, he’d been aware of the fact that he was in love with Kaveh for the past seven years.

For a split second, he found himself reaching out. With much more care than one would expect from him, he pushed a strand of hair out of Kaveh’s face, careful not to have his fingers touch his skin.

“What am I supposed to do with you,” he mumbled, then stopped himself and opted to flick his fingers against his forehead instead. Kaveh’s eyebrows pulled together in annoyance and his nose scrunched up. Even in his sleep, he swatted at Alhaitham’s hand, mumbling a string of words that were most likely insulting in nature.

Alhaitham smiled before leaning down further, their previous discussion still fresh in his mind. “What was that bastard’s name?” he whispered into his ear.

“-k-m…” At first, Kaveh’s reply was too muffled to understand. It took Alhaitham a moment until the name sorted itself in his head. Then, Kaveh stirred again. “Akim,” he repeated before burying his face deeper in the couch pillows.

Akim, huh?

Alhaitham straightened his back again and searched the room. His eyes stopped at a blanket lying near Kaveh’s feet. It was a gift from an old woman he’d involuntarily helped out, and was irritatingly scratchy. It had the most horrible feel to it, but for some forsaken reason, Kaveh didn’t seem to mind it one bit. Alhaitham gathered the blanket and quickly threw it over him so it fell somewhat clumsily onto his body. Kaveh mumbled another string of words he couldn't understand as he adjusted the blanket so it covered his entire body.

Ahaitham had made up his mind. On his way out, he grabbed Kaveh’s set of keys. There was some place he still had to visit tonight.

He threw his sleeping roommate one last look as he grabbed his soundproof earpieces and pulled the door shut.

Truthfully, Alhaitham had been aware of his feelings for Kaveh for years now.

The first time they met was shortly after Alhaitham’s grandmother died, leaving him an orphan with no immediate family to call his own. The grief was still fresh as a wound the day they met at the House of Daena.

Kaveh, in his own way, had somehow managed to lift his spirits during that time. Alhaitham was barely respondent and borderline rude, yet Kaveh had been there and somehow managed to befriend him along the way. Perhaps this unexpected act of kindness was the last nail in Alhaitham’s coffin. At first, the realisation was nothing but an obstacle to him. It was a riddle he couldn’t solve, a language that failed to come to him naturally. For years thoughts of Kaveh plagued him at night, resulting in him spending restless hours pondering over what could’ve possibly triggered them.

Months passed and everything was fine until it wasn’t. After the complete disaster that was their joint project, they stopped meeting up, stopped talking altogether. One big fight was all it took to tear down the shaky constructs of their friendship. It was one sentence too truthful, uttered without consideration for the repercussions.

Ever since that day, Kaveh refused to look him in the eye. When communication was necessary, he stubbornly insisted on only talking to him through other people. It was incredibly childish and perfectly Kaveh. And although Alhaitham refused to take back what he'd said, there was a part of him that understood why things had to turn out that way.

Despite himself, he missed the camaraderie they’d had. For several weeks he was moody and irritable until he came to accept that his problem wasn’t only the friendship lost, but also the realization that somewhere along the way, he’d fallen for his temperamental senior. As soon as he accepted his feelings for what they were, it turned from an unwanted surprise into a simple acknowledgement of facts.

Alhaitham hated soup, noisy crowds and had fallen in love with a man who had cut off all bonds they'd previously shared. It was reason enough to keep his distance and leave the relationship a broken, unstable thing. Maybe they were too different after all.

Perhaps it would’ve felt more heartbreaking if Alhaitham hadn’t known from the start that it would never work out.

After all, if there was one person in Teyvat unfit to be with Kaveh, it would be him. Kaveh dreamed of a big romance, dreamed of someone sweeping him off his feet into warm and welcoming arms. In the end, that was something Alhaitham would never be able to provide.

Perhaps it was a bittersweet concept to others, yet Alhaitham had never seen it that way. Since he’d considered his chances to be nonexistent right from the start, the disappointment gradually remained at a low point.

A sudden, loud noise disturbed the busy bustling of Lambad’s tavern.

A man stumbled backwards, pressing his hands closely to his nose. A stream of blood was running down his face, for his hands weren’t enough to stop the blood flow.

Alhaitham shook his hand, now speckled with blood, and looked down at the man below him, fist red and knuckles torn. “Don’t try that again. Next time, you won’t be so lucky. Understood?”

The man tried to retaliate, but quickly lifted one hand to protect his face when Alhaitham raised an eyebrow at him. “U-understood.”

He stared him down for good measure, then turned to leave. Lambad was calling his name, but Alhaitham had already turned his earpieces on, paying the world no mind anymore.

Maybe Alhaitham was losing himself in his own way after all. This had nothing to do with him, yet he’d still gone out of his way to rough the man up. His only saving grace was that even if word got out, Kaveh would never believe it. He had never been one to believe in the goodness of Alhaitham’s heart. Admittedly, it was a proper stance to have. After all, he was indeed particular about who he helped out, but when he did, he rarely cared to keep track of the favours people owed him for it.

The walk home was quiet and Alhaitham had to calm his heart that was beating to the tune of his music, before returning to his passed-out roommate.

Kaveh awoke to one of his arms dead asleep. Shooting up from the couch, he spent his first minute awake shaking the life back into his buzzing arm. The uncomfortable feeling was enough to momentarily distract him from what was to come.

As soon as his hand felt as if it belonged to his body again, the nausea hit him. Judging by his debilitating hangover, he'd definitely overdone it yesterday.

Slowly, he started dragging himself to the bathroom, feeling remotely pathetic and spent. The process took him much longer than expected since he had to stop and reconsider his life choices every few steps to make sure he didn't end up throwing up all over Alhaitham‘s atrocious carpet. Once he arrived without any further incidents, he held onto the sink as if it was a lifeline. Kaveh stared at himself in the mirror. His hair looked like a rat’s nest and his eyes were rimmed red.

When he tried to remember how he got home last night, he hit a wall. Even trying to retrace yesterday‘s steps did him no good. Perhaps he’d overdone it more than a little, he quietly had to admit to himself. No matter how hard he tried to remember, his brain wouldn't budge. The memory gap remained, annoying as it was.

He’d worry about it later. First, he had to get ready in time to meet up with Tighnari. They had scheduled a meeting weeks before, and there was no way in hell he’d miss out on it just because of a little hangover. It was rare enough that both of their busy schedules aligned for once.

Kaveh took a quick shower and left the bathroom, feeling slightly more alive again. He checked the time and cursed. If he ran, maybe he’d still make it in time.

Kaveh was sitting, massaging his temples as he tried to nurse the violent hangover he'd woken up to. Tighnari was sitting across from him, throwing him a slightly judgemental look as he stirred his tea. “You know,” he started.”I’d feel bad for you but you should definitely know better.”

“Yeah yeah, rub it in, won't you,” Kaveh complained. The server brought his order and Kaveh poked at it with a finger. It looked good, but the smell made his stomach turn a little.

Tighnari sipped on his tea and fixed him with a curious gaze. “So tell me, how did your night go? Judging by your half-alive state, I’d say not so well.”

Kaveh took a careful first bite and waited to see if his body agreed with what it was being offered. Once it felt safe enough, he dug in with vigour. Yesterday he'd opted out of eating before visiting the tavern - a fatal flaw as it turned out.

“Oh you won’t believe it,” he started between bites. “So picture this. Everything is going great. The wine is lovely, the company even more so. I am having an amazing time until this guy comes in and starts to flirt with me, trying to feel me up. That ugly bastard just wouldn’t take a no!” Kaveh swallowed his food. “He only got the message once I slapped him right across the face.” A quick chortle escaped his lips. “Left a pretty good mark if you ask me. Anyway, after I managed to shoo him off, naturally, I sped up on the drinks. Really, there was no saving the night after that, so who would blame me. And then everything goes black. I’m pulling up a blank slate right here.” He tapped the side of his forehead twice, then groaned as he buried his head in the crook of his arms. “It’s not fair. Let's just hope I didn't do anything stupid.”

Tighnari watched his friend and refilled his cup. Of course, he’d gotten somewhat used to his friend’s nightly escapades, but that didn’t mean they were any less troubling to listen to.

“Are you okay? If you want to, I could ask Cyno to find the guy.” There was genuine worry in his eyes.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ve been through worse.” Kaveh pushed his hair out of his face. In his hurry, he’d forgotten to pin it back. “ I appreciate the offer, but there's really no need. I just wish I’d hit him a little harder. Would have done him some good, I think.”

“About that,” Tighnari started. His ears twitched in anticipation. “Word has it Alhaitham beat someone up at the tavern last night. Do you think that could be related in some way?”

“Huh?” Kaveh’s head shot up and he almost dropped the spoon he‘d been playing with. “What?! Alhaitham beating someone up?! Nonono that can't be. What sort of reason would he have?  What would someone have to do to him, dog-ear one of his books? Come on, Tighnari. This is Alhaitham we're talking about here. Al-hai-tham! ” He made sure to drag out his name. “This is ridiculous. Is everyone losing their minds? I mean, really.”

He racked his brain for last night’s memories, but came up with nothing new. Kaveh scoffed in annoyance.  “He wasn't even at the tavern last night. I was there the entire time, I would definitely know. Alhaitham, beating someone up. Yeah right,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Tighnari stole a piece of Kaveh’s food and plopped it into his mouth. “Would you though? He always gets called when you overdo it. Archons above, it's beyond me why he still comes to pick you up so often. Kaveh, you’re my friend and you know I cherish you, but I’d definitely have abandoned you after the third time or so.” Tighnari leaned forward and his ears twitched playfully.

“Hey, rude! Aren’t you supposed to be my friend?!”

Tighnari’s tone turned more serious again. “In all honesty, I can't think of anything besides you that routinely gets Alhaitham to act out of bounds like that. I think it’s pretty safe to say that he normally doesn’t care enough to get involved like that.”

Kaveh scoffed once more, but stared at an indent in the table as he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, there's no way. Even if he did, he was probably just in a bad mood because he got sand in his shoes or something. Or he just read an incredibly bad application for funding. I'll ask him, you'll see! Alhaitham, doing something like that out of the goodness of his heart… yeah, right. What's next, he'll start behaving like a normal human being?!”

Kaveh threw the door open so hard it almost hit the wall.

“Alhaitham!” he yelled as he burst into the house, looking for his roommate. “Alhaitham! I need to talk to you!”

He didn’t have to look for long. There Alhaitham was, lounging on the couch. It was his day off, so he looked fairly relaxed reading his book, not even looking up as Kaveh came bustling in.

“What's the ruckus about this time?” he said, head still turned towards his book. One finger hovered over the pause button of his earpieces.

Kaveh sized him up with a strange look on his face, then stepped forward and quickly snatched the book away from him. Alhaitham looked up at him, irritation clear in his eyes. He reached for the book, but before he could grab it, Kaveh put it even further away.

“Let me check something,” he said. It was more of a demand than a question.

“Return my book and we’ll see about that,” Alhaitham shot back as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Listen to instructions for once in your life and you’ll get it back.”

Alhaitham seemed to consider his options for a moment. “No.”

“Alright, then,” Kaveh muttered under his breath. Instead of continuing to run in conversational circles with Alhaitham, he lunged forward and grabbed both of his hands by the wrists, pulling them close. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Embarrassingly enough, Kaveh was more than acquainted with Alhaitham’s hands and would notice even the slightest change in appearance. He’d always harboured an artist’s adoration for them. Long fingers, almond-shaped nails and soft-looking skin seemed to make for the perfect muse. In the confines of his room, he’d painted them more times than he was proud to admit. Not that he'd ever told anyone about it. Actually, he’d much rather die and turn over in his grave before admitting to such a thing out loud.  

He inspected the hands he knew so well with furrowed brows. Alhaitham’s skin was as smooth as he had always expected it to be. When his thumbs ran over split knuckles, Kaveh looked at his roommate with raised eyebrows. Of course, Tighnari just had to be right.

“What the hell, Alhaitham! When Tighnari told me someone saw you getting into a fight at the tavern, I was so sure they must've been mistaken. Feeble scholar my ass.”

Alhaitham tried to pull his hands away, but Kaveh only tightened his grip and pulled them closer.”Don’t you have anything to say?!”

“So what if I did. I don't see how that's any of your business, Kaveh.”

“When did you even get to Lambad’s? You weren't there when I was.”

Alhaitham raised one eyebrow. “You do know the owner calls me whenever someone needs to drag your semi-conscious carcass back home, don’t you? Did you really think you got yourself home in the state you were in?” His hands were unmoving in Kaveh’s and he threw him a taunting look. “Everybody, clap for the genius that is the Light of Kshahrewar,” he replied, his voice dripping in sarcasm. It made Kaveh want to throw a fit. How could one man be this infuriating? He dropped Alhaitham's hands as if he'd been burned. This was as close to an admission as he'd get from him.  

“Not only are you a bastard, you’re an ass too! Unbelievable! And to think I was worried about you! Why can't you just communicate like a normal human being?”

Alhaitham shot him a deadpan look as he tried reaching for his book again. Clearly, he didn't want to talk about the issue at hand. But that didn't mean Kaveh would just let him have his way. He moved Alhaitham's book even further out of reach.

“We are not done talking.”

“Says who.”

“Well, I do! And I’m your roommate, so you’ll have to listen to me!”

“Remind me how that works again?”

Kaveh stared him down, exasperated. When he received no further answer, he clicked his tongue and turned on his heel. It was clear from the way his steps echoed through the hallway that he was mad.

What Alhaitham didn't expect however, was for Kaveh to return shortly after, disinfectant and bandages in hand. He plopped down on the sofa, one leg pulled up, the other on the ground.

“Come here,” he said, suddenly quiet. A peace offering.

Alhaitham didn't move an inch, but turned towards him with a raised eyebrow nonetheless. Kaveh rarely ever did things quietly. With him tended to come a boatload of irritating noise.

“Must you always be so difficult?! Come here, Alhaitham,” he repeated himself, this time more demanding.

“What for?” he asked stubbornly, earning him a groan from Kaveh.

“Just stop asking! Here.” Kaveh scooched forward, taking one of Alhaitham's hands and putting it on his leg.

The confusion was almost comically clear on Alhaitham's face. Before he could open his mouth again, Kaveh pressed an alcohol-drenched cotton ball to his split knuckles. His tongue darted past his lips as he ogled the injury once more before carefully applying bandages.

When he was done, he squeezed Alhaitham's healthy hand. “There. Wasn't that bad now, was it? You know, it wouldn't kill you to trust me from time to time.”

Kaveh had always been too kind for his own good. This breached dangerous territories. Alhaitham knew he should thank him, but being open felt like reaching into his chest and exposing a beating piece of his heart he wasn't willing to give up just yet. It was a derailment of what he knew that made his blood run cold.

Carefully, he flexed his fingers as he pondered his next move, decidedly ignoring how warm his cheeks felt after that small touch. Years of little to no touch had made him a degenerate when it came to physical affection, it seemed.

Alhaitham cleared his throat. “You didn't do half bad,” he finally admitted.

“Yeah yeah, you're welcome.” Kaveh made an exaggerated hand movement. “It was nothing.”

But Alhaitham knew better. To him, it was a lot more than that. People generally did not treat him this gently. Archons, people rarely ever touched him. They kept their distance, careful not to gaze over Alhaitham's meticulously built walls. Mostly, he was thankful for it. His fortress was a lone, but sturdy thing. It was safe and most of all, consistently reliable. Leave it to Kaveh to knock it down in the breath of a moment.

“You feel like telling me what happened now? Although I find you terribly insufferable, I don’t know you to be violent without a good reason.”

And Alhaitham decided to give him an inch. He tilted his head back and let his back hit the couch. “Find it out yourself if you're so curious,” he taunted, looking at Kaveh from under his eyelashes. Kaveh returned the gaze with a newfound fire in his eyes.

“Oh, I will. Believe me, I will!”

He pointed one last accusatory finger at his roommate. “This conversation is not over!”

For once, Kaveh made his way down to Lambad’s tavern without the goal of getting absolutely hammered in mind. Today, he was on an important mission.

It should be fairly easy to find the answer to his questions as long as he asked just the right people. After all, Lambad’s tavern was always filled to the brim. There had to have been at least a handful of people who bore witness to Alhatham’s little throwdown yesterday.

Kaveh didn’t have to search for long. Upon entering, first things first, he was faced with a man staring at him, one eye swollen shut and his nose bent in an awkward ankle, most definitely broken. The man opened his mouth, then closed it again when he made eye contact with Kaveh, bearing striking resemblance to a blowfish. His eyes darted to the ground almost immediately.

Suddenly, a memory pushed its way through Kaveh’s hazy brain. Hands trying to grab his waist, attempting to touch where he certainly hadn’t allowed him to.

“You little-” Kaveh started, leaping forward. Before he knew it, he was already grabbing Akim by the collar, pulling him closer to his face.

The scumbag named Akim lifted his hands in defeat, flinching away from him as he scrambled for words. “Your partner already taught me a lesson. I get it now! What I did was wrong and I am sorry. I've had one too many, Kaveh. I was drunk, drunk I say!”

Kaveh's anger came in hot white flashes. “That is not an excuse you- wait. Say that again?”

“I've had one too many?”

“No, the other thing! Did you just say my partner beat you up?” An idea, perhaps even an inkling of what might have occurred started to form in his head. However, it made absolutely no sense to him, no matter which way he turned it. There was only one person Akim could logically be talking about.

“Partner, boyfriend, lover, whatever you’d like to call the Acting Grand Sage.” Akim shied away from his probing gaze. “Knocked the living daylights out of me. Who knew a paper pusher like him could have that much upper body strength? I mean I should’ve known, the man is built like a t-”

Kaveh’s breath hitched in his throat. “The Acting Grand Sage beat you up?!” His voice raised in pitch. “You think Alhaitham and I are…” His cheeks reddened and Akim threw him an almost amused look.

“It's the talk of the town, even more so after he hit me in front of the entire tavern. Honestly, my bad for trying to shoot my shot despite it.”

“You- I- He…Ugh!” Kaveh brought out and let go of Akim’s collar. “It's not like that!” He took a step back and pushed his hair out of his face in exasperation.

“So I still have a chance?” The man’s hopeful smile was disgusting. Without any warning, Kaveh picked an abandoned glass off the table and threw the drink in his face. “You wish!” He left the man behind, dripping from head to toe and looking properly pathetic.

Kaveh made his way towards the bar, grumbling to himself, where Lambad watched him with a certain kind of curiosity.

“Mister Kaveh.” He nodded in greeting. “A bit early to see you here. Might I ask why you are antagonising my clientele this fine midday?”

Throwing himself onto one of the barstools, Kaveh leaned forward, fixing Lambad with a serious gaze. “He deserved it,” he concluded. “I’d keep an eye on him, he's definitely a pervert.”

“Hmm of course. I will keep it  in mind. The Acting Grand Sage did already take care of that for you yesterday, didn't he?”

“Did everyone see?!” Nervously, Kaveh tapped his fingers against the counter. “Tell me what happened. Please, it’s… important.”

Lambad sighed. This was far beyond his pay grade.

When he returned home, Alhaitham was still where he’d left him. Kaveh approached, ready to confront him, but soon realised that Alhaitham had fallen asleep. Kaveh tutted his teeth. Whenever he complained to Cyno and Tighnari about how Alhaitham acted like a lazy cat in his free time, they refused to believe him. Yet here he was, once again dozing on the couch, the sunlight kissing his closed eyelids. He was lying on his side, both arms pulled close to his face. Like this, Alhaitham looked closer to the irritating junior Kaveh had met all those years ago. In many aspects, he was still the same. The attitude problem definitely remained, just as his lack of respect for his seniors did.

Kaveh knelt down, inspecting Alhaitham's face. “Hey, Alhaitham,” he said, voice firm. Alhaitham, being an exceptionally heavy sleeper, did not stir. The man was near impossible to wake and even more disagreeable than usual upon waking up. But Kaveh would have to risk it. After all, he wanted answers and he wanted them now.

“Wake up,” he said, shaking Alhaitham's shoulder. The man stirred, but only buried his head further into his arms. Irritated energy was coursing through his veins and Kaveh kicked the bottom of the couch. After all, Alhaitham hated when he made a ruckus. He'd show him what a proper ruckus looked like.

“Come on now, time to wake up!” He shook Alhaitham once more, this time more violently.

Finally, his eyes opened the tiniest bit. “What is it,” he grumbled and they fell shut again. Instead of waking up, he got a hold of Kaveh's arms. The architect promptly lost his balance and toppled over with a squawk. Curse Alhaitham and his stupid strength.

Still having a death grip on Kaveh's arms, Alhaitham turned onto his back, uttering something Kaveh interpreted as. “Just be quiet.”

This was why Kaveh never bothered waking him up. It was an entirely impossible feat and not worth sitting across from a grumpy Alhaitham not even coffee could soothe. Additionally, Kaveh was now partially draped over Alhaitham, unable to move. Determined not to give up, he swung his legs over Alhaitham's body, straddling him. He still couldn't free his hands, which were held tightly against Alhaitham's chest, but at least now he felt like he had the upper hand again.

“Alhaitham!” he said, this time louder. No response. “I'm not your pillow, let go of me!”

“Alright, if you're gonna be like that.” Kaveh leaned down until his head was almost in the crook of Alhaitham's neck, right next to his ear.

“Wake up, you bastard,” he whispered into his ear, sweetly, softly.

Finally, Alhaitham awoke with a startle, his eyes blinking against the light of the dimming sun.

“Kaveh?” Alhaitham was still drunk with sleep and his voice came out sounding both raspy and soft. Kaveh’s heart did something funny in his chest. Perhaps he'd made a mistake after all. He'd never heard Alhaitham utter his name like that.

Kaveh leaned back, dumbfounded, already having forgotten about the position he'd put himself in, and watched the way Alhaitham's eyebrows pulled together as he let go of his hands and yawned. He opened his eyes and suddenly stilled. For a moment, there was confusion on his face as he sat face to face with Kaveh. Neither of them said a word.

“What are you doing s-”

“It’s not what it looks like!”

They both stopped again until Kaveh remembered why he wanted to talk to him in the first place. He cleared his throat and turned his head away defensively. “I was just trying to wake you up. It’s not my fault you are impossible to wake up.”

“More importantly,” he continued. “Do you mind telling me what business you had at the tavern last night?”

Alhaitham sat up as much as he could, looking much livelier than he normally did after having been awoken so crudely. For once, there was some colour to his cheeks. “Actually, I do mind. Didn't I tell you to find it out yourself? What happened to that, gave up so soon? And to think you call yourself a creative genius.”

“I haven't! I just wanted to hear it from your mouth!”

Kaveh crossed his arms and looked down at Alhaitham. His eyes were narrowed.

Alhaitham blew his bangs out of his face and looked up at his roommate, who was still breaching his personal bubble. His eyes were still half-lidded from sleep, making his expression look remotely standoffish.

“I returned to the tavern after I brought you home, found the man whose name you told me and punched him square in the face. Are you happy now?” Alhaitham leaned closer towards Kaveh. “Do you believe me?” There was a strange intensity to his eyes.

The unexpected honesty had Kaveh utterly confused. Slowly, he untangled himself from Alhaitham and slid over to sit down on the couch instead. For a moment, he was quiet as he ran his fingers over his temples. His thoughts were racing.

“I don't understand why you would do this for me. Is it to put me in even more debt? Don't I owe you enough already? Tighnari is convinced you did it for my sake.” He let out a dry laugh. “Unless you're like, secretly in love with me, there'd be no-” Kaveh's words, uttered without much thought, got stuck in his throat when for the shortest of moments, a conflicted expression ghosted over Alhaitham's face. Kaveh felt like the air was being pushed out of his lungs.

“W- what was that?!”

“What was what?” Alhaitham replied, his voice lacking its usual bite. “You need to be more specific if you’re expecting an answer.”

A certain kind of nausea started to fill Kaveh’s guts. “I saw that. That look on your face, you… You must be joking.”

The look on Alhaitham's face was a truly unfamiliar sight. In the 10 years they’d known each other, Kaveh had never seen anything like it.

“This is just a cruel joke right? You've heard me lament about how lonely I am, so this is how you choose to tease me.”

Alhaitham seemed to have regained his composure. His lips parted and Kaveh waited impatiently. It was uncomfortable to see him at a loss for words.

Then finally, Alhaitham looked back at him before averting his eyes again. “It’s beyond me why that would be your first assumption,” he said calmly. “I may be blunt, but I'm rarely intentionally cruel, you should know that.”

“Then tell me that I got it wrong. Geez, don't sca-”

Alhaitham interrupted him before Kaveh could brush off his words. “You didn't. Your assumption was correct. I guess the secret's out now.” Alhaitham let out a dry chuckle.

Kaveh just stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, all possible replies dried out on his tongue.  “Am I having a stroke?” he brought out, unable to keep his eyes off Alhaitham’s face. Red eyes met turquoise ones. “Do you want me to believe you of all people would fall in love? With me?”

The question caused more pain than he expected. Perhaps it was an unfair thing to feel hurt over. After all, Kaveh couldn’t have known the impact those exact words would have on him. Still, he recoiled and Kaveh pulled back his hands just as quickly.

“You'll be fine. This is none of your business anyway.”

Alhaitham stood up and pushed the hair out of his face. “For what it's worth…” He didn't turn back around. “I never planned on telling you. Maybe… “ He pulled a grimace. “Forget it.”

“It’s none of my business?! Oh no no, you are not going to get away with this, because I’m not buying it! You-” Kaveh watched Alhaitham, trying to find any change in his behaviour. He seemed just the same, if it weren't for the rigid set of his shoulders and his guarded expression.

“I thought you didn't care,” Kaveh whispered, all his anger blown away in an instant.

“I guess you thought wrong then.”

Kaveh couldn't keep his eyes off him. His heartstrings were aching with a familiar pain.

“You… you've known for a while,” he concluded and Alhaitham nodded. His hands were digging into his thighs hard enough to leave marks. Kaveh didn't dare to step closer, his body frozen in place.

“Obviously.”

“For how long?”

“I don't see how that matters.”

“It matters to me! Alhaitham, of course it matters! How. Long.”

It was obvious Alhaitham didn't want to answer. After a moment of silence however, he caved in. “After we cut contact.”

“After we-” Kaveh's eyes widened. “Seven years?! And you said nothing?!”

“Naturally. You didn't talk to me. Nothing would've changed if I’d thrown another set of obstacles your way.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t have listened. Nothing would have changed,” he repeated, putting more emphasis on his words. There was a scary level of conviction to his words.

Kaveh's head felt as if it was about to combust. His heart was beating with an anxiety that was yelling at him to escape while he still could. Certainty could be such a frightening thing. “I can't do this right now,” he forced out, caught up in the mess that were his own emotions.

Alhaitham nodded solemnly and sat down again, his hands now pressed flat against his thighs. For once, he seemed reluctant to fight about the issue. “I certainly won't stop you.”

“I'm going to Tighnari’s. Don't come after me.”

“Suit yourself.”

Kaveh rushed to his room to gather a few of his things. His heart was beating to his chest as he threw all his necessities into a bag. When he returned to the living room to retrieve his keys, Alhaitham was staring out of the window, arms crossed and lips pressed into a straight line.

And although there was some part of him yelling at him not to leave him like that, all Kaveh could do was run.

Alhaitham didn't turn around when the door fell shut behind him. As soon as he was alone, his expression dropped. This was the outcome he’d expected, yet it still hurt. It was a foolish, nonsensical thing to grieve about.

His heart ached, the feeling uncommon and new to him. It wasn’t the dull heartache of unrequited love he’d grown accustomed to, but something much more open and fresh instead.

Alhaitham slipped his ear pieces back on and put on instrumental music to soothe his bruised heart. The mellow beats did little to calm his troubled mind.

With a sigh, Alhaitham switched the music off again. Perhaps this was the perfect time to get serious about his temporary position as Acting Grand Sage. A lot of work had piled up and by now it was quite obvious that no one else was ready to step up just yet. Being busy would be a welcome distraction. Despite his efforts, there was nothing and no one waiting for him at home anyway.

Perhaps it was always supposed to end this way. After all, fate had never been particularly kind towards either of them.

Kaveh arrived in Gandharva Ville completely out of breath. He came to a stop, hands braced on his knees, and had to catch his breath for several minutes. As his gaze was turned towards his own feet, they were suddenly joined by a small set of sturdy boots. Kaveh’s head shot up and he was greeted by unruly green hair and big eyes. Tighnari’s little pupil, Collei, mustered him with a worried expression. “Mister Kaveh?! Are you- are you alright? Hold on, let me get you some water, here!”

The young girl unbuckled a flask from her belt and handed it over to him with shaky hands.

Kaveh took a big gulp and relished in the feeling of cold water making its way down his parched throat. He straightened his back and looked up. Kaveh was greeted by the bluest sky he'd seen in a long time. It was a day too perfect for his beaten mood and for once, he found himself wishing for rainy clouds and dark skies.

“Thank you, Collei. You are too kind. Is Tighnari home? I really need to talk to him.”

“Of course, yeah! I'll bring you to him, follow me!”

He followed her through the forest and not too soon after, they arrived at Tighnari's house.

“Master!”

Tighnari's head poked out of the doorway. “Yes, Collei? Oh- Hello Kaveh. I expected to see you sooner or later. Come in, tell me what happened.”

“Tighnari, can I stay here for a couple of days? Please?”

Tighnari put his hands on his hips and sighed. “That bad, huh? Well, come on in first. You can tell me all about what happened with Alhaitham after you’ve settled down a bit.”

“How did you-”

Tighnari sighed deeply. “One way or another, your problems always revolve around him.”

Kaveh opened and closed his mouth. “I complain about other things too!” he retorted, fairly offended.

Tighnari's ear twitched. “Let me be the judge of that.”

After he got settled in, Kaveh and Tighnari sat down at a cozy dinner table. Without saying a word, Tighnari pushed a bottle of wine towards Kaveh.

“You look like you need it.”

Kaveh accepted it gratefully. “Tighnari did the Archons send you?” He poured himself a glass, then settled down. After his first few sips, he pushed the glass away and cradled his head instead, lost in thought. Tighnari poured himself a glass as well and watched his friend with sharp eyes.

“Alhaitham told me he's in love with me.” Straight to the point. The words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could even think about stopping them.

Tighnari spilled a bit of wine and cursed. “He did what now? Kaveh…”

“For seven years, Tighnari! He's been keeping this from me for seven years! Can you tell me why he has to be like that?! And he only admitted to it because I straight up asked! If I hadn’t said anything, he would have-'' Kaveh interrupted his stream of words to take another small sip. “He would have kept it all to himself, just like that!” He nursed his drink and pushed out his bottom lip. “He’s so unfair, Tighnari.”

Tighnari furrowed his brows and sighed deeply. “So you finally realized it.”

“Finally? What is that supposed to mean? Don’t tell me…” Kaveh looked over at his friend. Was it that obvious?

“So how did you answer him?”

“Well, I- I mostly didn’t! I ditched him and immediately ran over here!”

With great restraint, Tighnari managed to suppress the urge to put his head in his own hands.  Calmly, he folded his hands and leaned forward. “Let me summarize what happened, just to make sure I've got everything right. Alhaitham-”

Kaveh nodded.

“-confessed to you. You got mad at him, left without giving neither answer nor rejection and sought me out? Is that correct?”

Kaveh bit his lip. “Well, if you put it that way…”

“If I were you I’d go back home before he does something stupid.”

Guilt started to fester in Kaveh's bones. “I can't do that.”

“And why not? You can't just hide away forever. Running away from him will only get you so far. Didn’t you just start to rebuild your relationship? ”

“I can't because… because I just can't. It's complicated. He hasn't thought this through.” Kaveh crossed his arms and averted his eyes.

Tighnari didn’t know that everything good he touched eventually withered and died. No matter how irritating he was, he would never put this on Alhaitham, regardless of his own complicated feelings.

Tighnari fixed him with a deadpan stare. “You said yourself that it's been seven years. I think he’s had ample time to mull it over. I'm not trying to push you here, but I think you know very well that the actual problem lies elsewhere.” Tighnari tapped the table and faced him head on. “I just don't want you to ruin something before it's even had the opportunity to grow and bloom. Although Alhaitham is even more prickly than a cactus, I think you know him better than anybody else. Take your time to think it over, but don't just run away. You love him too, don't you?”

Kaveh lowered his head and wrung his hands. “Sometimes I despise how smart you are.”

When Kaveh returned with a made up mind and slightly improved mood, three days had already passed. Surprisingly, he was greeted by an empty home. After searching the entire house up and down, he came to the conclusion that nobody was home. Apparently, Alhaitham himself hadn’t been home in quite a while.

Just as Kaveh put down his bag, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips, the doorbell suddenly rang loud and clear. Kaveh opened the door without any hesitation. Perhaps Alhaitham had simply forgotten his key?

The man standing in front of the door was very clearly not Alhaitham. Still, the man’s face was familiar. Kaveh recognized it from somewhere. Then, it suddenly clicked. This man was Panah, the Mahamata who’d had the displeasure of getting tasked with helping out the Acting Grand Sage at the House of Daena.

“Senior Kaveh, thank Lesser Lord Kusanali!” he exclaimed, sounding both exhausted and out of breath. “Please come quick, we need your help. It's about the Acting Grand Sage. He hasn't left his office in days! Talk some sense into him, none of us are getting through to him! He just won't listen!”

Kaveh's eyes widened. So that was where Alhaitham had been hiding. What a fool.

“Yeah, he tends to do that. Let me grab my keys and I’ll be right behind you.”

Kaveh took the elevator up to Alhaitham's temporary office. To be quite honest, he had no idea what to expect. Despite his genius, Alhaitham was rarely one to do more than the bare minimum. This sudden change was so concerning and out of place that Kaveh couldn’t help but suspect that he was partially to blame for it. Perhaps if he hadn’t run away like a coward, things would’ve been different by now.

Alhaitham was sitting at his desk, the shadows beneath his eyes dark and pronounced as he stared down the document lying in front of him. The light of an almost burnt down candle dipped his features into an ominous light. The quill he was holding had left droplets of ink spattered on the tabled underneath his hand.

“Didn't I ask not to be disturbed?” he asked without lifting his head.

Kaveh walked over to his desk, hands stemmed on his hips. “Finally starting to take this thing seriously after all?” he asked before adding softly. “What are you doing here, Alhaitham?”

The scribe lifted his head and considered Kaveh. “Well, look who's found his way back,” he said drily. “The runaway architect.” He took a look at the clock. “There's still plenty of time left to escape if you ask me. Might make it worth your while.” Okay, so maybe running away had been an even worse decision than first anticipated.

“Alhaitham,” Kaveh started, but found himself at a loss for words once he got a closer look at the Scribe. “You look horrid.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. Now leave.”

Kaveh's eye twitched. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I refuse.”

Alhaitham stared him down. “I said leave, Kaveh. Is that so hard to understand?”

“I am not leaving until you're coming home with me,” Kaveh retorted.

“First you run for the hills and now you want to play martyr? What a kind and empathetic soul you are, Kaveh.” Alhaitham’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, but there was a strange tone buried underneath it. “Maybe you can fix me after all.”

Kaveh slammed both of his hands on top of Alhaitham's table. “Why must everything always be doused in sarcasm with you! Am I not allowed to show that I care about your wellbeing?!”

Alhaitham's gaze was exhausted as he cocked his head to one side. “It's beyond me why you'd do that.” His usual drawl lacked its sparkle. “I never asked for your kindness and I certainly won't start now. Go and offer your charity to somebody else.”

They stared each other down, neither wanting to give in. Alhaitham's eyes drooped with tiredness and Kaveh could tell he almost had him. So really, who would blame him for playing a little dirty. He sat down on the table, arms crossed and back turned away from his roommate.

“How mature,” Alhaitham's voice sounded from behind him.

Kaveh shrugged his shoulders. “And what about it? I don't see you acting your age either, so why should I?”

Alhaitham sighed heavily. Minutes passed, and the scratching of quill on parchment turned from erratic to slow until finally, the quill dropped onto the table and it stopped completely. Kaveh turned back around. Alhaitham's head hung low and his breathing was slow. He had passed out from exhaustion.

“Oh geez,” Kaveh mumbled. “What have you been putting yourself through?” He walked around the table, kneeling down next to him to take a closer look at his face. Despite his slumber he didn't look peaceful.

“Let's get you home,” he whispered, brushing Alhaitham's hair back in place before pulling his arms over his shoulders and taking hold of his legs, carrying him piggy-back. “If you let go I'll never forgive you,” he grumbled. For once, he found himself thankful for Alhaitham’s annoying tendency to sleep like a log. Alhaitham's head dropped onto Kaveh’s shoulder and the hold around his neck tightened. The weight of Alhaitham on his back was almost reassuring, grounding.

The people at the House of Daena, once preoccupied with their various research topics and assignments, were watching Kaveh with eyes as big as dinner plates as he carried the dead asleep Acting Grand Sage towards the exit.

“This,” he pointed at himself, then back to the bystanders, “never happened.” Kaveh lifted one finger in warning before he left. “There's nothing to see here. You didn’t see anything .”

For some reason, he was certain his insistent words would do little to keep the rumours from spreading even further.

If the people of Sumeru city weren't already gossiping about Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship, seeing Kaveh carry Alhaitham home would certainly give them ample reason to start doing so. For once, Kaveh didn't mind. More so, he found himself busy keeping the suffocating feeling of guilt at bay as he threw various onlookers with far too curious gazes a hard side-eye. Alhaitham the bastard continued to remain dead asleep and only tightened his hold on Kaveh’s neck.

“Are you trying to choke me out in your sleep?” he chuckled quietly. “Are you that cross with me?”

When they finally arrived at home, Kaveh's arms felt about ready to pop off. For a moment, he hovered in the living room, unsure of where to put Alhaitham down. After a moment of consideration, he carried him over to his room. Alhaitham’s room was more spacious after all.

As he stood before the bed, he found himself faced with a small problem. Alhaitham's grip on him was still fairly strong and Kaveh didn't want to wake him just yet, not after the stunt he just pulled at the House of Daena.

So he did the one thing he knew would work. Kaveh maneuvered the both of them onto the bed with as much care as humanly possible. His back cracked during the effort and he sent a quick prayer to the heavens, hoping he didn’t pull a nerve.  

Normally, he'd never do this. Sure, he’d think about what it might be like to be in the same bed as Alhaitham, but he’d never act upon it. But it was only the two of them now, and their relationship was already strained. Something like this wouldn't do much except maybe embarrass them even further. Kaveh was tired of it all.

Finally, he had managed to turn himself just so he could let go of Alhaitham without jolting him awake. It was a bit difficult with the man still holding onto him, but Kaveh managed. He wedged his hands in-between Alhaitham's, creating a bit of space for him to move. He turned around, hands still on Alhaitham's arms, and was met with Alhaitham's face very close to his own.

Kaveh gulped. Curiously, he let his eyes roam over Alhaitham’s face. He was filled with the sudden need to trace his nose with gentle fingers. One hand started to wander as he fought the urge, looking for the little dip near Alhaitham's wrist where he was certain to find his pulse instead.It was a fluttering little thing, and he let out a breath of relief upon finding it.

Kaveh hated to admit it, but he was scared. Scared of change, scared of holding on just to be forced to let go again. Ever since his childhood, he'd been nothing but a force of destruction. Kaveh feared his own disastrous feelings would ruin Alhaitham just as they had done to so many before him.

For once, he pulled himself closer and let his eyes fall shut. Alhaitham's grip tightened and Kaveh let his head fall right into the gap between his shoulder and his neck.

And if there were tears staining Alhaitham's shirt, at least there was no one around to witness them fall. Alhaitham’s pulse, a delicate thing beneath Kaveh’s fingers, lulled him to sleep.

Kaveh didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep until he was awoken by movement.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled as he buried his head further into his pillow. That was until his pillow moved in a way a pillow definitely shouldn’t move.

“Kaveh,” a voice came from under him. It was a voice he knew far too well, so he opened one eye and was greeted by Alhaitham's chest right in his field of vision. He hadn't been sleeping on a pillow, after all. His head was nestled comfortably against Alhaitham's surprisingly soft chest.

“Alhaitham!” His eyes widened in shock and he quickly untangled himself from his roommate. “You're awake?! It’s not-”

“What it looks like? Yes, I thought as much.” Alhaitham pulled his knees close to his body and rubbed the skin behind his ears.

“Are you… okay?” Kaveh asked quietly. The distance between them was nauseating and he didn’t dare reach out.

“Don't ask me that. Don't bother,” Alhaitham forced out. His eyes were fixed on a set point of the wall. There was a dog barking outside, again and again and again and his skin was crawling. His fingers interlaced behind his neck and he took a deep breath, then exhaled audibly.

Kaveh reached out, but before he could reach him, Alhaitham recoiled. “Don't touch me.”

“Alhaitham.”

“No.”

“Alhaitham, I-”

“I said no.” He took another deep breath and avoided looking at Kaveh. “Why did you do that?”

“Do… what?” Kaveh asked despite knowing fully well what Alhaitham was referring to. It was too late to run from this conversation after all.

“You returned, brought me home, went to bed with me. Did it slip your mind or were you simply not listening when I said I don't want your charity? Or is leading people on perhaps a new hobby of yours?” There was a bitter tone hidden behind his words.

Kaveh pressed his lips together and considered his roommate for a moment, searching for the truth between the lines. Alhaitham was always so incredibly hard to read. He took another look at him, took note of his straight spine and unsteady hands.Then, something clicked. Kaveh practically jumped up and left the room with quick steps. Alhaitham turned his head to the side and said nothing. An expected wave of déjy-vu came crashing over him. He snapped out of it when suddenly, there was a voice next to his ear.

“Hold on,” Kaveh mumbled as he slipped Alhaitham's earpieces over his ears. He tried to flip them on, but couldn't find the right button. Alhaitham's hands rose to cover his, aiding him in finding the switch.

For a moment, he kept them there, eyes closed and his breathing finally calming as they breathed together. His hands were soft against his own and he didn’t mind the sensation.

“Better?” Kaveh asked when Alhaitham opened his eyes again. The man read his lips and slowly nodded before releasing Kaveh’s hands. After a few more minutes he pressed a few buttons on the side of his earpieces, adjusting the levels of noise cancelling once more.

The signs had been there, yet Kaveh had failed to pick up on them until he noticed Alhaitham’s state of unease. Kaveh had managed to peer past his meticulously crafted walls. Alhaitham looked overwhelmed and exhausted.

Before he could cringe at the thought, he forced out his next sentence. “I think we really need to talk.”

Alhaitham exhaled loudly and nodded. “We should.”

They sat down next to each other on the edge of the bed. The distance between them felt suffocating.

“So,” Kaveh started. “You like me.”

“Against better judgement, I do.” Kaveh watched him with expectant eyes and he sighed. “I am not delusional to my limits as a person, I know that this isn't anywhere near the realm of possibilities. I never thought so.” He knotted his hands together. “I didn't plan on telling you,.”

“Why did you even open your doors for me if I’d bring you nothing but heartbreak?” Kaveh asked, gaze on the ground.

“One could say you did make the house more lively.”

“Be honest with me.”

Alhaitham sighed and pushed his hair back. “It was the better alternative to not having you in my life at all. It was better than knowing you’re out there somewhere, struggling, refusing to ask for help. I wouldn’t have offered you half of my life if I didn’t want you here.”

“But why?”

Alhaitham moved closer and finally turned towards him. His eyebrows were pulled together. “You have this aggravating tendency to put everyone's needs before your own. How has that been treating you?”

Tears welled up in Kaveh's eyes. The memory of their last argument about the topic still stung. One fear was still present: What if this conversation would end the same way their previous one had?

“How dare you bring that up again,” he uttered. “And what about you?” he continued, voice shaky. “I don't see you putting yourself first either. You never even gave yourself a chance.”

“Should I have? You not talking to me and running off were pretty good indicators of why this wouldn't work.”

Kaveh glanced over at him. Slowly, he slid his hand over his, holding it tight.

“I-”

“Don't force yourself,” Alhaitham interjected, his hand solid as a rock under Kaveh’s.

“Ugh, would you just listen to me?! Who are you to decide what I’m feeling? I was afraid, okay?! There you have it, happy?”

Surprised, Alhaitham finally looked at him.

“You're crying?”

“I am so fucking terrified,” Kaveh admitted, wiping at his tears with his sleeve. “Of what this means, what it could mean for us. I don't want to lose you again. You're infuriating and arrogant and most of the time, you drive me up the wall. But I still-”

Slowly, Alhaitham reached up, wiping a tear away with a curious expression on his face. Kaveh pushed his cheek against his hand. A tear, shiny like a pearl, rolled down the back of Alhaitham’s hand.

“I still…”

“You are looking for someone loving, kind, yet you haven’t formally rejected me.” A statement voiced in confusion, not a question. “Your mind makes little sense to me.”

“As does yours. Did you know half of Sumeru city thinks we’re a couple?” Kaveh suddenly asked. His body was buzzing with anxiety.

“I was aware of the rumours,” Ahaitham answered nonchalantly, as if he’d known about the rumour ever since it’d come up the first time.

“You were?! Why didn't you say anything? And how can you be okay with that, when you're-” In love with me . The words got stuck in his throat.

“Why should I? Let them think what they want.”

“You- You’re infuriating. You are really infuriating and I am going to kiss you right now.” His eyes searched Alhaitham's. The man looked back at him, caught off guard. It took him a second before he recovered and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Will you now? I'll believe that once I see it.”

“You little brat. Don't you patronize me.”

Kaveh put his hands on Alhaitham, one gently against his chest, the other cradling his jaw. “Trust me, I will,” he uttered softly, his eyes never straying. With a tilt of his head, he closed the distance between them until there was no space to separate them left.

Alhaitham's lips were soft, pliable, and he kissed back with enthusiasm. He buried one hand in Kaveh's hair, running through the blonde tresses. Their lips slotted together, slowly and carefully. Kaveh pulled himself closer. It simply wasn’t enough. He needed more touch, more stimulation, more of Alhaitham pressed against his skin.

Alhaitham made a small noise and Kaveh pushed him back onto the bed. His back hit the mattress and Kaveh swung one leg over his body, straddling him once again. Alhaitham hugged his waist with one arm. His hand wandered and disappeared under the soft linen of Kaveh's shirt, tracing tight muscles and sharp shoulder blades.

Kaveh broke the kiss to let his lips wander from the corner of his mouth to his jaw down to Alhaitham's neck. First, he pressed an experimental kiss to the sensitive skin before mouthing at it, pulling the skin through his teeth and sucking softly. Kaveh was desperate to leave a mark, any kind of sign that this wasn't just a dream. With one hand, he pushed down Alhaitham's shirt to gain better access to his skin, while the other ran over his chest. Alhaitham shuddered beneath him.

“Kaveh…” he murmured.

His heart squeezed upon hearing his name leaving his roommate’s lips in that tone. He etched another mark into his skin before looking up. Alhaitham was watching him from under his lashes, his face flushed and breath heavy. For a moment, there was nothing but them, entangled in Alhaitham's bed. Kaveh felt tears prick at his eyes. He cradled Alhaitham's face and kissed him again. A soft whimper escaped his lips and Alhaitham pulled back to check up on him.

“Are you okay?”

Kaveh shook his head and buried his face in the crook of Alhaitham's neck.

Without saying another word, Alhaitham hugged him carefully and pressed a kiss to his head.

“Are you regretting this?” he asked reluctantly.

Kaveh shot up and Alhaitham pushed himself up into a sitting position as well, eyes flitting to the side. Kaveh was still straddling him, an unbelieving look on his face as he stared down his roommate.

“No!” he answered quickly. Alhaitham relaxed visibly. “I’m just… happy? Too happy maybe? I can't fully tell.”

“But you're crying.”

“And you're still trembling.”

Alhaitham wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer again. He brushed Kaveh's hair out of his face and ran his thumb over his cheekbone, then pushed it against Kaveh’s lips. Slowly, he leaned in closer and replaced his finger with his mouth, softly, carefully. It was so considerate Kaveh felt like he could burst into tears all over again.

“Tell me what this means,” he mumbled against his lips.

“Everything. It means everything.”

They parted again and Kaveh started tracing the sharp edges of Alhaitham's features, feathery touches from his temple down to his jaw. Shyly, he looked up at Alhaitham and took a deep breath. The words seemed to be stuck in his throat.

“Let's assume I say I like you,” he said. “What then?” He could feel his heartbeat accelerating.

“Let's assume I say I don't believe you. What would you do then?”

Kaveh furrowed his brows. “You're just trying to get me to kiss you again,” he concluded.

“Am I now?” A smile crept up on Alhaitham's face.

“You definitely are,” Kaveh shot back. “Have I ever told you that I find you incredibly insufferable?”

“Plenty of times. You’ll just have to put your hypothesis to the test then, maybe that will convince me,” Alhaitham replied and there was a drawl to his voice that Kaveh couldn't help but find both attractive and annoying.

He shut him up with his lips and felt the rumble of Alhaitham's laugh against his mouth. It was an infuriatingly attractive sound. Kaveh nipped at his lip in retaliation before pulling back again.

“Do you like riling me up this much?”

“Only when I’m getting something out of it.”

“I hate you.”

“Hate me all you want. That’s fine.”

“Hold on. No, it's not! When have you ever been the moderate type? You're alright with that? Okay then, what if I say I love you then? What about now?”

Alhaitham's eyes widened in surprise just as Kaveh's mouth fell open.

“Uhm-” He started to laugh awkwardly. “What I was trying to say was-”

“I can work with that,” Alhaitham replied, a rare smile on his lips. It sent a shiver down Kaveh's spine. “No complaints.” His grip on Kaveh's waist tightened before he pulled him down with him again. Kaveh searched for Alhaitham's hand, interlacing their fingers as he pinned it down next to his head and leaned down to capture his lips again.

This time, he wouldn't run or hide. Kaveh was desperate to stay right where he was, entangled with Alhaitham in his bedroom.

[blkkizzat]

🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟹........... THE CULT LEADER ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: you shouldn't have even been watching the gate bunny, that's much too hard for you! so when you inevitably fuck up, your cult leader boyfriend—geto suguru—has the perfect punishment planned for you and your pretty pussy wait..in front of his entire congregation tho!? classifications: dumb bimbo!reader, canonverse of nerd!geto's bunny!reader, cult rhetoric, dark themes, sensory deprivation/amaurophilia, punishment, humiliation, shibari, edging, overstim, exhibitionism, toxic jealousy, possessiveness, yandere Suguru, drugged sex, cnc/free-use reader, mentions of orgies/group sex and a bit of forced breeding. incidents: 5.8k

“Nuh-uh, nope you gotta be a fake!”

Suguru sighed, irritation brewing beneath his calm exterior. If he didn’t convince you he was the real deal soon, he’d be late to his weekly midnight mass—a gathering of his most devoted (and wealthiest) followers he couldn’t afford to miss.

Be that as it may, he still tries to be patient with you—his Bunny. 

Ever since the doppelgängers started appearing, you’ve been a bundle of nerves, and Suguru knows you’re spiraling right now—he’s had to talk you down more times than he can count over the past few weeks. You’ve been worrying nonstop about something happening to him, Mimiko, or Nanako, even though they all possess far more cursed energy than you.

If anything, it’s you who should be worried about yourself.

Holding the barrier around the entire compound is already draining your very limited cursed energy, and it’s taking a visible toll—your fatigue evident in your wavering stance as well as the sweat beading on your brow.

Suguru, noticing this, shows a bit more patience—especially since he returned a day earlier than expected and, most conveniently, no one else is around to witness him being made a fool. Something that would be more likely now that his following had grown significantly during this doppelgänger-induced quarantine, demanding more of his attention by the day. 

“Come now, Bunny, let’s rationali—”

“Nope! No way! you can’t trick me! Besides, if you were the real Suguru, you could just break the barrier by now! I’m not stupid like you, ya dumb doppel!”

Not stupid?

Suguru would hate to have to tell you the truth to your face and upset his pretty lil’ bunny but, you were in fact, pretty ditzy—his current predicament a testament to that. Pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, Suguru is almost at his limit with you.

But he couldn’t just break the barrier himself. 

Of course, ability not being an issue—he could easily do it. The problem is at this hour, breaking the barrier would trigger alarms throughout the compound, both cursed and physical, throwing cursed users and followers alike into a frenzy. 

It simply wasn’t worth the trouble.

Shaking his head, Suguru tries a different tactic with you. 

“Bunny, please—just go fetch Nanako and Mimiko. Bring them here to sort this out, alright? Can you manage that for me?”

A contemplative expression appears on your face, as if you were seriously mulling over the ramifications of his very simple request—a reaction he knew didn’t bode well for him.

“Hmm… nah!”

Frustrated, the cracks in Suguru’s patience with you begin to show. 

“And just why the hell not, Bunny?”

Surguru’s grits his teeth, brow twitching, attempting to maintain his cool as you look at him like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“They’re already in bed! They still have school tomorrow—even if it's virtual! I’m not waking them up just so they can see a doppel version of you! It might scare them.”

Rolling his eyes, Suguru blames himself really.

Since joining his cause you’ve spent more time bent over his desk, the plush round curves of your backside glistening with his cum that is painted liberally across your skin, than you’ve spent looking him in the face. 

But his weakness of being partial to the bounce back jiggle of your fat ass was now thoroughly biting him on his own—especially as you insist the problem is that his ear gauges are too big. Something Suguru couldn’t even be too upset about as after all, he had gone up a size recently, so you weren’t exactly wrong. 

Still, he hadn’t expected you of all people to be perceptive enough to notice, so he now regrettably never bothered mentioning it.

Suguru knew he’d have to come up with another way to convince you. At the same time, he vowed to kill whoever had been slacking on their job and put you at the gate. Tasks like these weren’t suited for you—though, to be fair, most tasks weren’t.

That’s why other than his personal fleshlight, when your sinful lil’ pussy wasn’t getting private spiritual guidance from his cock, you spent your time behind the front desk of reception. The perfect decorative bait for the followers flocking to his temple for refuge from the doppel crisis. Your beauty along with your bright cheery demeanor did just the trick to lure in those distraught and perverted monkeys into his cult, whose wallets he could exploit until they were no longer of use to him. 

Suguru takes out his phone, calling the twins himself but neither Nanako nor Mimiko answer. He considers calling someone else—literally anyone—but he knows they’re all gathered in the main hall by now, without their phones, as most electronics are strictly forbidden outside the dormitories.

As a last-ditch effort, Suguru scrolls through his texts to show you the lewd photo you sent him earlier that same day—the racy upskirt of you with 2 of your manicured fingers wedged into your tight sloppy cunt while stationed at the front desk accompanied by the ‘miss u daddy’ text.

“Oh woooow! Dopplegangers can clone iclouds too!? Y’all are really good!”

Oh for the love of… 

At his wits end, Suguru thinks he might actually have to whip his dick out in the middle of the courtyard—your slutty ass would surely recognize that if nothing else.

Yet saving him the indignity, suddenly, a bright camera flash materializes behind you catching both of your attention. 

“Nanako, this isn’t our room!”

Nanako and Mimiko?!

“Shhh—Shut it! Do you know how hard it was to get inside the barrier, at all?! Urgh I feel queasy now…Plus, I can’t concentrate because my feet hurt so bad from these heels. There was nowhere to sit in that club! Let’s just get back to our rooms before Geto-sama notices we—”

Yet realizing their predicament sooner, Mimiko’s eyes nearly pop out of her skull as she rapidly taps Nanako’s shoulder, who whirls around to see a now-visibly pissed off Suguru. 

“—Oh shii—Geto-sama…?”

Not only did he have to deal with his airheaded Bunny failing to recognize him, but also with two teenagers under his care sneaking out to god knows where, to do god knows what, with god knows whom.

All during a doppelgänger crisis.

Both were dressed in outfits far too revealing and mature for them, outfits Suguru figured they must have pilfered from your closet—since he would never have bought them anything like that in a million years, even if they were old enough to wear it. But Suguru would have to wait until tomorrow morning to have a good stern talk with them—right now he needs their help lest you leave him out here all night. 

“Girls, please. I am in need of your assistance. Don’t fret, neither of you are the one that’s in trouble right now.”

Suguru’s piercing glare startles you, his oppressing cursed energy sending familiar tingles down your spine and for the first time that night you begin to wonder if you had actually messed up. 

Oh yes, Bunny, you had fucked up—big time.

Failing to recognize him and letting the twins sneak out under your nose was a serious mistake and you need to be corrected.

Thankfully, Cult Leader Suguru knows exactly how to punish you and in a way that would further his own purposes too.

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

Lounging casually and only dressed in a thin white kosode, his priest robes discarded, Suguru gazes out at the sea of his gathered followers.

His irritation mounting as he awaits your arrival.

What could possibly be delaying you?

He had given strict orders for you to change and meet him in the main hall, where he intended to deliver your punishment.

Punishments from Suguru weren’t something you were unfamiliar with. He often finds himself frustrated with you and in need to relieve his tension, using your snug lil pussy as he sees fit. 

But the urges the bubbling anxiety he felt at the moment to lock you away, keeping you hidden where no one else could ever lay eyes on you, wasn’t about punishment.

No, the crux of it being, at his core, Suguru was a fiercely jealous man.

He wanted you all to himself, tucked in a delicate, untouchable box, far from the gaze of a world unworthy of what belongs to him.

But Suguru keeps that possessiveness well-hidden, just like all his other flaws.

Geto Suguru, the cult leader, always radiated an air of calm benevolence, a true messiah in their eyes. It earned him their unwavering devotion, even though they knew of his cruelty his followers justified it every time—convincing themselves that any punishment he inflicted was well deserved.

This rationalization, along with his suppression of personal desires, all stemmed from the unwavering commitment to his utilitarian views of the Jujutsu world.

Suguru knows he must set aside his own wants for the greater good of his cause. He had already made the ultimate sacrifices when he killed his parents and excommunicated himself from the rest—including the only other person to have ever known the true him—and he had no intention of stopping now.

That’s right, it was all for his cause and his cause is the sole reason a vehemently covetous man like Geto Suguru is about to fuck you in front of his entire congregation.

The heavy doors of the large meeting hall ceremoniously reopen and you are brought before him blindfolded and dressed in a similar matching kosode.

The wispy fabric only lightly touches your skin, offering little protection from the drafty air that seeps through as you are guided up the steps to the stage.

Yet little do you know the blindfold is completely unnecessary. 

No one else in the packed auditorium wears one, but Suguru self-indulges in this one thing with the reasoning that— ‘If you couldn’t trust your eyes to recognize him, then he will have to train your body to recognize his voice and touch alone.’ 

Once you’re placed in your designated position—on a smaller altar set upon the elevated stage—your retainers swiftly retreat, leaving you standing alone.

Facing Suguru, with your side turned toward the audience, you feel the weight of their lecherous stares even if you can’t see them. 

It was a peculiar yet thrilling feeling—losing your sight, yet knowing so many eyes were on you. 

Watching, waiting, and lusting over your body that only Suguru is permitted to touch. The notion alone is enough to make your body shiver harder than any chill would cause. 

Seeing you try to contain your nerves, Suguru regards you with interest as your small hands tug at the sides of your robe and you try your hardest to steady your breathing. At this point you were willing to do whatever it took to set right your earlier transgressions with Suguru.

You felt absolutely terrible for not recognizing him, on top of allowing Nanako and Mimiko to sneak out right under your nose! You were just thankful at the opportunity for forgiveness.

Although Suguru already knows you are too infatuated with him to deny him anything, especially when it comes to taking dick, anytime or any place he asked you to. Suguru, is throughly pleased with your obedience as he needed your cooperation for this licentious stunt.

Though Suguru finds the more debased aspects of cult culture crude, he knows they serve a vital purpose: ensuring total indoctrination.

With the rapid expansion of his following, fear-mongering and promises of salvation were no longer enough to maintain control.

Initially, the cult attracted outcasts and those on society's fringes. But as the poison of fear spread throughout Tokyo, married couples and families alike sought refuge from the new threat—doppelgängers visible even to those without cursed energy.

His inner circle of cursed users agreed—control was now more crucial than ever. Not just physical or emotional control, but dominance over every detail of his followers’ lives.

Suguru needed to dictate how they thought, what they ate, when they bathed, and how long they slept—every aspect of their pathetic existence. He intended to shape their perception of themselves in the new world he was building, so much so that they wouldn’t dare take a breath without first considering if it pleased ‘Geto-sama’ (it never would, though he tolerated it for the time being).

Now, the final step remains.

With the power he wielded as their omnipotent savior, Suguru couldn’t allow their vows to each other to interfere with their vows to serve him.

And what better way to weaken these bonds than through unadulterated hedonism?

Like the tenacity of Japanese knotweed, once the seeds of adultery were scattered, their venomous vines could not be contained. They would tear through the toughest stone as they would the supposed everlasting promise of martial vows and in turn shred them—making their relationships as fragile as wet paper.

And to do that, Suguru needed you—the object of lust for nearly every virile male monkey in his cult to spur them into a depravity.

Nevertheless, in this showcase of debauchery you would be the only one allowed to touch him—and regardless of any bullshit he feeds his followers, words dripping with a faux sugary coating of ‘sharing oneself wholly with your community’ to tempt his followers into the highest betrayal—he is the only one allowed to touch you.

Finally rising from his post Suguru approaches as you slowly begin to unravel, your senses fraying bit by bit as they are caught between both the fear and the eagerness of finally being touched by Suguru after he’d been gone three whole days.

However, despite your efforts to remain still you are nevertheless startle, not having sensed his presence behind you, when Suguru’s powerful hands rest on your shoulders, both reassuring you and securing you in place. 

Your breath quickens along with the dampening between your legs. Leaking, your arousal begins to secrete onto your thick inner thighs that are dutifully pressed together underneath your paper-thin garment.

One of his followers swiftly sets a cushion before your feet then disappears again as Suguru’s grip tightens and he lowers you, his precious little Bunny, onto your knees.

Anticipation surges through your veins and settles right into the fiery pit of need stirring in your core when you feel him kneel behind you. 

Even blindfolded, Suguru’s hulking presence has you feeling so small in front of him.  

“Let us begin.”

You feel yourself rattle from his voice booming over you while simultaneously Suguru’ swiftly pulls the ties on your robe loose with ease—snatching the garment away and exposing the sides of your naked body to his mass of followers.

Hushed whispers of the congregation immediately erupt, sending tingles racing across your flesh. You can’t help but moan untouched as an unfamiliar heat simmers in your bones. 

Sure, you were getting plenty turned on from being watched—not knowing how many of the familiar faces you greeted daily were now leering at you…but this felt like something…different. 

“Tsk.”

Suguru chides, surveying your body and noticing you as your chubby little clit, already swollen with need, eagerly peeking out from your folds to greet his congregation. 

With a slight smirk Suguru reaches from behind you to deliver a loud reprimanding smack to your pussy. Chastising your cunt’s lack of decorum in front of his followers, the slick moisture of your folds echoes throughout the silence.

Swallowing down your whimpers, you’re left panting, your tongue already out and your saliva falling upon the altar as you felt like you could have cum from just that single smack alone—something was definitely wrong.

If Suguru notices your sudden distress or hypersensitivity, he says nothing. 

Yet his hands never leave you as they begin to roam your body with more urgency, squeezing and kneading—breasts, hips, ass—the drag of his cool palms and blunt nails across your curves leaves scorching arousal sizzling in your very bones. The feelings only intensify tenfold when the sensations of silk begin to twist across your skin. 

Skillfully, Suguru weaves the braided ropes around your form leaving you dizzy, the pull and tightening against your flesh felt like the ropes themselves were alive.

Was this—shibari??

“Not to worry—” Suguru authoritatively pronounces when he hears rising murmurs of the masses, “—the restraints are only for the lovely maiden here, so the pleasure of being taken by a God doesn’t completely overwhelm and destroy her.”

Your brow furrows slightly, puzzled until you hear his husky voice coo heavy against your temple, finally cluing you in.

“Not that your slutty mouth isn’t loud enough already Bunny, but we have to make sure to really sell it. The tea’s effects shouldn’t last too long.”

Your breath hitches in a slight panic remembering the sickly-sweet tea one of the handlers told you to drink before entering the hall. Suguru attempts to console you as one of his hands finds its way to your neck constricting it with a gentle but firm pressure as he nibbles slowly up from your jawline.

“Be my brave lil’ Bun now, hm?”

You mewl softly, nodding as you feel completely overtaken by whatever drug he’d secretly given you. 

Ultimately though as long as it was Suguru, you’d never deny him anything.

Suguru presses a chaste kiss behind your ear as a reward for your compliance.

Continuing his shibari handiwork, Suguru’s low hums vibrate through you from your nape down as he continues to restrain you with the smooth ropes. 

"Bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by a tree. Criss-cross the tree, trying to catch me..." 

The dragonfly harness tie he’s putting you in requires bunny ear knots, the irony of your situation not lost on him and considering your nickname—Suguru changes the rest of the rhyme to tease you further as he coos:

“Bunny girl, bunny girl, fucked into my pole—leaking my cum from out the inside, beautiful and bold.”

Given the go ahead to be loud, you don’t restrain the sob rips from your throat this time as tears slip through your blindfold down your cheeks. You felt like you might die soon if he didn’t fuck you as the need racing through you taunted your every nerve.

But Suguru wouldn’t be rushed and takes his time finishing off your restraints with bight knots, the result Suguru deems is that you tie up beautifully in red shibari contrasting against the color of your skin. 

Although tempted, Suguru never used shibari on you before. Yet the way your soft skin bulged against the ropes digging into the flesh of your doughy body made his cock twitch violently—he’d be doing this again.

You whine when you feel Suguru rise up. You fear him leaving you bound and bare but his hand rests on the top of your head as if to silence your concerns, letting you know he was still near. 

Not that you thought he had gone far as you swear you can smell his very arousal filling the air. 

You weren’t wrong either.

Suguru had since moved to stand in front of you now and the evidence of his own heated erection becomes apparent when his milky beads slowly splat onto your face. Droplets rolling past the tip of your nose, your tongue eagerly darts out to savor his seed.

Moaning like a slut just from the taste of him, your visible hot breath openly salivating, your mouth so eager and ready to be used by him, makes Suguru throb harder. Your chest heaves, tilting forward for more as the restraints pinning your arms behind your back forces you into the most perfect little arch. 

Not being able to deny his lil Bunny her carrot any longer, Suguru taps the tip of his weepy length on your tongue. 

“Wider.”

And you comply.

The cavern of your mouth expanding to showcase ropy webs of spittle. Suguru’s meaty length breaks through them easily though as he slides over your quivering tongue hitting deep into the back of your throat. He’s thick, enormously so and tears sting your eyes under the blindfold as you passively let him use you.

That is, until you hear the command—

“Suck.”

Sighing with relief your mouth encloses the best it can, jaw relaxed yet strained to accommodate his size. You bob down further before rising up to suckle at his tip.

Humming with approval, Suguru is pleased that your restrained arms don’t stop you from being the cock-hungry slut he knows you to be.

True to form, although you cannot stroke him, you still lick him just as nasty—resting the shaft of his heavy cock on your chin while you tongue up the strong vein on the underside.

Completely, uncaring for the mess he leaks all over your face, you continue unhindered as your blindfold and cheeks are soiled in streaks of white. 

A ripple of hushed awe sweeps through the crowd, some who couldn’t resist stroking themselves as they watched with envy. Suguru casts an annoyed glance at them before returning his focus to you.

Filthy ingrates.

Grinding his teeth, Suguru has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his congregation’s shameless lust over you. Even if you were a perfect slut, the human embodiment of a succubus, they still didn’t deserve to lay eyes on you—let alone stroke themselves filthy to you.

One day he would punish them all for it too. 

Rip out their eyes and summon the Rainbow Dragon curse to devour them all in one fell swoop—but unfortunately not today.

Suguru’s rising agitation makes his cock more impatient, the laps from your teasing whore tongue wasn’t enough. Hastily, Suguru grips the back of your neck, snapping his hips forward to thrust into your mouth fully without warning.

Your eyes shoot open, yet again are met with darkness—still blindfolded. Your breath constricts as he plunges himself into until he feels your nose press into the soft pubes at the base of his pubic bone. 

Allowing you to adjust momentarily, Suguru wipes away some of the tears and pre caking your cheekbones. His gentle caress travels down your face to wrap firmly around your throat that is bulging full of him.

“Good girl, Bunny, just relax.”

His whispered praises stir up the desperate ache in your pussy and you reflexively relax as Suguru weaves his hands around your hair. Fucking himself down your gullet, Suguru throws his head back.

Suguru’s cock had trained your throat well and like usual, it obediently opened for his use, your narrow tunnel of wet heat forming to the very shape of him.

But while your throat was subservient to him, your pussy was not. 

The effects of the tea in full force your cunt coveted the assault your mouth receives. The lust building in your core was maddening.

Fraught with need to relieve any of the tortuous thrum between your legs, cries vibrate through your windpipes restricting tighter around his engorged length causing Suguru to hiss, his own hips stuttering as he almost prematurely releases. 

Curious, Suguru’s eyes pry open to see your sloppy pussy soiling a large spot of moisture onto the cushion—somehow the pillow had shamelessly found its way between your plush thighs for you to hump down on. 

Pulling himself from your mouth with a pop, your voice croaks as you gasp for air but you’re immediately left pouting at the loss of him.

“Waste not the seed of God.”

Your throat is more than willing to have him back inside regardless of the wild fever fluttering in your pussy.

“Now, now—none of that, not when your greedy lil’ cunt can’t bare my cock to go in any other hole but her.” 

Harshly breathing out admonishments for your sluttiness against your neck, Suguru is behind you again, turning your body this time to face the crowd.

Shaking, small tremors of anticipation flowing through you but Suguru doesn’t make you wait long. 

His large hands take their fill of your curves as he snakes them across your body, one hand coming to rest over your womb while the other cupped your cunt. His dexterous middle finger rubbing slow agonizing circles on your puffy clit causing you to sob out.

The amount of slick pouring from you makes it easy for Suguru to manipulate his hand further into your folds, already drenched up to his forearm just from merely swiping his fingers through your sodden lips.

Suguru’s adam's apple bobs as he ruts his hard and weepy erection against the crack of your ass when your greedy walls unabashedly swallow up his long middle finger like it was his cock.

“Only one finger in this immodest lil’ hole and you are ready to cum for me?’ 

Another rapturous cry slips from you as Suguru digs another finger into your core, spreading your legs and granting him deeper access. Your squelching pussy getting finger popped is lewdly on display for the entire hall. 

Your other senses working overtime as Suguru cores out your insides, pushing into your g-spot and steady towards your release. The hand clutching onto your belly now fondles your spongy bud and you throw your head back against his shoulder. 

So close—So close…. Fuckk!

“Hold it.”

His authoritative words command your body to halt soon as you feel yourself about to tumble over your delicious peak. Suguru rips any relief from the insatiable burning in your guts away from you.

“MMMM-FUHHHH, No, no no! Pleasepleaseplease mmmm—Geto-sama! N-Need you!”

You know you should be silent. 

You know it’s almost certain he will punish you further.

But any punishment seems insignificant to the fact you feel you might actually die from need if you don’t get his fat cock inside of you soon, your heart feels like it might seize from distress.

Suguru goes still, his firm grip still on your body as his hands pull taunt on the shibari ropes draped across you, quieting your snivels.

Your fears are somewhat assuaged when you hear him chuckle huskily in amusement.

“Hmm—Shall I bless you?”

The question was spoken aloud, yet it is clearly rhetorical. 

Like you Suguru’s followers also knew to stay silent, yet cries of—“bless her!”, “bless her!”, “make her squirt!”, “stretch her out!”—ring from the congregation. Your cheeks burn with mortification as you had momentarily forgot just how many people are watching you get toyed with.

Yet you’d have Suguru broadcast this nationally if it meant you finally got to feel his cock inside you—anything to keep your insides from further liquifying, your pussy melting slowly in a puddle of its own desperation.

Suguru hums in approval.

Seeing you in this pathetic state for him overcomes any displeasure he feels from the hoard of monkeys chattering out of turn

As a result, Suguru shows you his mercy, waiting no time slotting his leaky cock between your cushy thighs. The bulb of his tip catches against your clitoral hood with every thrust of his girth parting your dewy folds. If it weren’t for his steady hold on the braided ties keeping you upright you surely would have collapsed forward from the toe-curling sensation.

The increased heat from the aphrodisiac drug had his length messing up your pretty pussy before it even got inside you. Your head luls back onto his shoulder as he continues fucking your thighs, unable to hold its weight up any longer.

Yet Suguru won’t allow you to tap out so early.

“No slacking, Bunny.”

Is the only warning you got before Suguru bullies the entire length himself into your tight lil cunt. Your pussy already so pliant from the light teasing and drugs gives him free access to reach your womb all in one go. 

The screech that strains from your abused vocals causes the tension in the room to awash with a heady lust as Suguru’s followers can no longer hold back from touching those around them.

Disgusting monkeys.

Surguru growls to himself but ultimately his plan is working maybe a little too well. He had ensured the tea was brewed for each in attendance as well, all had been delivered a cup before having left their rooms—yet still, the thought of them being so aroused over you sparks a deeper hatred for them in his soul. 

Fucking away what few remaining thoughts, if any, you have in your head, Suguru bucks into you with a faster force. It’s unfair of him, but he cannot control himself from taking out his anger on you. Recklessly Suguru’s hips slam into you in retaliation for being the seductive siren you are, enticing his congregation to disobey him—and most offensive, trapping someone as steadfast as him to covet someone as simple-minded as you. 

Sloshing claps echo from your bodies colliding to encompass the vast room almost as loudly as your moans squeak out, begging him to let you cum—to fill you. 

Your pussy is desperate for his absolution and it’s shown in the creamy rings of sap you drown his cock with.

You were his. 

Suguru would make sure no one here would be able to glance upon you again without remembering how well you slut out only for him.

Pulling the crimson ropes taunt enough to leave marks in your skin Suguru doesn’t realize for how long and just how much force his cock has been plowing into your messy pulsing cunt until he feels the tremors of your violent release rake through your body, snapping him out of his sadistic daydreams of murdering every monkey in the compound as your milky release streams down your soft legs to sully the floor beneath you. 

Sweat jewels across his own brow and Suguru knows he has to finish you for good soon, his concentration could only last so long before your soaked cunny would even prove to weaken even a God such as himself.

Suguru’s his hands crawl in serpentine trails across your middle edging lower until they are strumming impatiently over your clit once more, rubbing you near raw with pleasure.

Who knows how many times you’ve already cum around his cock? 

Truthfully, Suguru doesn’t think you actually stopped since the first time. 

However when he feels you start to limp, fading in his hold his heady voice is in your ear again, lightly nibbling your lobe as he encourages your consciousness to last just a bit longer.

“Show them how well you can take me, Bunny.”

“How you are the only one who won't break before me.” 

His firm grip clutching your jaw, Suguru pulls your face back to him.

“Remember, you are the only one suited to be their god’s obedient little plaything—my greedy lil’ cockwhore.”

Your voice barely above a whisper, you croak out to him urgently.

“S-Sugu…k-kissth me!”

Noting how your mouth is lax, drool glistening in its corners—Suguru doesn’t need to see your eyes to know how utterly fucked-out you are in this moment.

Completely lost in ecstasy, you easily forget yourself calling him by a nickname only you are privy to inside his bedroom. 

However, thankfully for your sake, no one else had heard it. The crowd of bodies too fervently occupied in their own debased copulation.

Yet still, your insolence of calling him anything other than ‘Geto-sama’ in public earns you a pinch so acute on your clit, that you see white even in the darkness of your blindfold.

Garbled cries spill forth as surges of rapturous electricity shock your every pore and in an instant Suguru’s fingers dive into your mouth. Not wanting you to injure yourself, Suguru permits you to bite down on them in lieu of own tongue as you convulse against his body.

The feral bite to his digits as if you’d rip the very flesh off him is only rivaled by your tight pretty pussy clam clamping down on Suguru’s cock enough to push him over the edge as well. Not even having the chance to pull out, your cunt bends Suguru to her will, forcing him to paint your walls white—your womb is a sponge that greedily absorbs his holy essence, squeezing him for every last drop.

The lock you have on him is so intense that Suguru feels his mask of calm begin to slip and he bites his inner cheek bloody lest a feeble moan slip out of him. Suguru always maintains a semblance of composure or he’d be no better than the orgy of primates beneath him. 

Releasing you, slowly you fall forward out of his grasp. Your face meets the cool floor but there's no pain from the impact, at least not enough to overpower the pleasurable spams still buzzing through your core or the dull aching of your neglected nipples now rubbing against the polished hardwood. 

The drug isn’t even close to being out of your system yet and you are wiggling your ass for more. Your delayed consciousness lags before whimper in the realization of your hollowed empty core.

“S-Su-Su—”

Your body is near destroyed but you were still horny as fuck. 

Suguru is quick to hush you, his hands running along the curves of your ass, massaging them. Gently plucking at your shibari knots, Suguru admires how they branded into your flesh. Continuing, his hands skate across your moist skin before pulling your cheeks apart to gaze at  his seed plugging your hole.

He hadn’t meant to cum inside you yet the way your cunt quivers, gaping open as it ejects loads of his cum to splatter onto the floor, he scolds himself for not doing so previously.

“Keep it in.”

Effectively corking your cunt closed, keen loudly as Suguru twists two fingers inside of you.

By now, his followers are fully in their own heat, a pile of withering bodies as pure hedonism had erupted in the auditorium.

No one notices as Suguru’s attendants bring out fresh robes as he hurriedly loosens your knots enough to carry you out, readying himself and you to make a hasty exit. Suguru would surely hurry if the stretch of the monkeys debauched copulation can reached his nostrils.

He'd rather continue your ‘punishment’ in private anyway. Fucking you in front of his congregation and showcasing you as his cocksleeve was not enough of a claim to calm his jealousy.

No, Suguru needed to have claim to you fully.

It’s in that moment Suguru mentally adds one final requirement to your penance—you’d bear him an heir.

A few in fact.

He’d have the perfect excuse to keep you hidden away too—for your protection of course.

You mewl as Suguru gathers up your limp half-conscious form and presses you to himself so possessively it hurts. Yet your mind is still gone, lost in lust as you’re still babbling nonsensical pleas for him to fuck you.

“Hush now, Bunny, my most devout follower, Geto-sama is here to take care of it all. I’ll bless you with my seed and keep you tied to the bed on your back until your belly swells full with my heirs.”

......RESULT: FAILED. 𝚈𝚘�� 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗—𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation) a/n: this was way longer than i wanted it to be, was originally gonna cut it off before he actually fucked reader but decided to follow through since I owe y'all geto girlies some p in v djsdkjshk (nerd!geto p2 after kinktober i swear!)

comment and reblog! next up either Nanami or Choso—any preference? lmk! (both just need last bits of smut written/final review, they are actually 2 of my fav stories so excited to post them!)

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Random idea that came to me. Crawling under bat boys hoodie and falling asleep on their chest

Brilliant idea anon, absolutely brilliant.

Jason would smile in amusement as he watched you try to burry yourself under his red hoodie, it was quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen you do all day as he sets aside his book, just to watch the lump under his hoodie that was you crawl up towards his chest as though you were a cat.

He guessed his reading could wait as he investigates your reasonings for being so fucking cute.

‘Whatcha doing?’ He’d ask as he lifts the collar of his hoodie to see you sigh in relief as you cuddled up to his chest, finally where you wanted to be.

‘Cuddling.’ You replied.

‘You mean leeching off of my warmth more like you little shit,’ he pokes you in the side through his hoodie, making you squirm, ‘aren’t you going to get too hot down there? I run quite warm remember.’ He adds, worried that you might get a little bit suffocated beneath his hoodie and his bare chest, he didn’t want you to get lightheaded under his watch.

‘I’ll be okay jay birdie.’ You kissed his pec, rubbing your cheek against it afterwards as you let out a massive yawn, Jason’s warmth and overall comforting presence was enough to have you feeling a little sleepy. ‘I just was feeling a little cold.’ You murmured the last part as your eyes felt heavy and your words becoming slurred as your body relaxed in the position that it was in.

Jason smiled softly as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. ‘Okay my little heat hogger, but if I think you’re getting too hot in there, I’m taking you out.’ He chuckled when you let out a small noise to let him know you’ve heard him before falling asleep against him completely.

He’ll just have to let you crawl under his hoodie more often and he has a feeling this will become a tradition between the two of you sooner or later.

Dick couldn’t help but squirm when you chirruped yourself under his hoodie.

‘Babe!’ He whined, ‘I’m ticklish!’

‘Sorry dickie bean, but I’m cold and I want warmth.’ Was your reply as you cuddled up to his chest, humming in content when you found the perfect spot to sleep on.

‘I know but why do you have to burrow under my hoodie? Or is it so you can rest your head on my bare pecs?’ Dick inquired as he throws his arms over you, keeping you where you were under his hoodie as you popped your head out from the collar to kiss his jaw.

‘I like your warmth and listening to your heart beat, your tiddies are just the bonus aspect of it all dickie bean.’ You responded as you disappeared back under the hoodie to rest your head on his pecs once more, closing your eyes in content.

‘Since you think it’s okay to do this, does that mean I can do the same when you wear a hoodie?’ Dick asked as he pouts, feeling as though he was missing out on something revolutionary. You giggled against him. ‘Sure I don’t see why not but I don’t know if you’ll be able to fit under my hoodie sweetie.’ You answered, smiling to yourself at the idea of dick being stuck halfway under your hoodie, face buried in your tummy but he’s more then content there as he occasionally blows raspberries, much to your dismay.

‘I’ll hold you to that, but for now I’ll let you snuggle my pecs and leech off my warmth like the little hog that you are.’ Dick teased as he kisses your head, smiling when he felt you tighten your grip on him however you could, even if it did tickle him a little bit he would endure it for you.

‘I’m not a hogger.’ You pout.

‘That’s what they all say, even the cute ones.’ Dick tells you as he found himself drifting off to sleep.

Bruce

Raises a brow when you pulled up his hoodie, only to quickly crawl your way underneath and cling to his chest like a needy kitten. ‘Can I help you my dear? If you’re cold I can just tell Alfred to turn up the heat or fetch another blanket?’ He asked the human sized lump under his hoodie that was you.

‘No! I like it here more.’ Came your muffled response as Bruce felt you cling to him even more, burring your head in between his tiddies that were soft as a pair of pillows when he wasn’t involuntary flexing his muscles. ‘This is the only way I can combat the cold.’

Bruce chuckled softly, you humoured him with your antics and he didn’t mind at all as he needed a moment or two of laughter in his life after going without it for a long, long while. ‘Are you planning staying there the entire evening? Won’t you get too warm or uncomfortable?’ He asks as he makes his way towards the bedroom, uncaring of the double takes dick and Jason gave him when he passed by.

‘Is Bruce pregnant?’ Jason whispered to dick when Bruce was out of sight.

‘No it’s just y/n clinging to him. They do that when they’re cold.’ Dick replied but even for a split second he also thought Bruce was pregnant, not that he’d tell Jason that, ever.

‘I’ll be fine, besides I’ve got the greatest pillows right here to sleep on.’ You cheekily told him and you lightly bite down on his pectorals and giggling to yourself. Bruce sighs, knowing he’s got yet another mark that he’ll have to avoid explaining to Alfred or worse Clark but he likes the fact that you felt secure enough to cuddle under his hoodie, it warmed his heart and he knew that he would never stop you from doing so as it was just as therapeutic for him and it was for you.

[sigilcatt]

Hii

Sebastian x Reader where they don't have enough data so they just ask if they can pay w/ a kissy?

zomg this is so cute???

{reader is GN}

So far, the totality of this expedition sucked.

Signing up to fetch some stupid crystal for your freedom sounded like a flawless idea, sure. If you dismissed the plethora of creatures making an effort to kill you along the way. (Not like the people who sent you here cared, mind you.) You were chastised for any mistakes, even though they refused to even inform you about the opposing dangers to begin with. It was more of an…inconvenience if you happened to fail.

Regardless, between having to avoid possesed lockers, shadowy figures, and whatever those god-awful anglers were, you thought you were pretty damn good at this.

You’d managed to stay alive so far, approaching yet another door, this one marked “43.”

Hopefully this one would be easier than the last..

Gently slipping a thin, blue keycard inside the reader that had been installed into the door, waiting for it to hiss open with a scowl on your face. The door parted and swept aside, revealing yet another dark hallway before you.

Dammit, You thought with a groan, fumbling around in your bag to retrieve your flashlight. It was already low on juice, and of course, you had no batteries on you. Just your luck. Shaking it awake, the warm golden light illuminated the absolute mess of the corridor; large crates looked as if they’d been violently thrown across the room, one even appeared to have left minor damage to one of the many thick pipes lining the walls to your left.

Plus the considerable ragged clawmarks that laced the floor, but it was better to ignore those, no?

Taking a few deep breaths, you forced yourself to stray deeper into the space, your light scanning over each and every crevice. You weren’t about to risk letting anything jump out at you.

Except for the vent grille, apparently.

An earsplitting smash reverberated throughout the chambers as it rammed against the nearby wall, bouncing back for a mere second before collapsing onto the floor.

“What the hell-?!”

Out of shock, you dropped your flashlight, the generous amount of light you’d been given now gone as it rolled away from your feet. As you scrambled to pick it back up, a voice echoed through the vent opening.

“Got something for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at the small gap, quickly realizing who it was with frustation bubbling in your gut.

Sebastian. That 10ft sea monster that lingered around these areas, offering you useful supplies in exchange for data. You rolled your eyes with a sigh as you got on your knees, wincing with discomfort as you made your way through the vent to see him.

Of course it was him. Who else would it be? As much as he annoyed you with his unwarranted attitude and sass, he was still…nice to be around. Made things less lonely.

“Ah, you, welcome back.” He greeted, though of course laced his voice with sarcasm. “Really thought you’d be dead by now.”

“I’m more capable than you think, Seb,” You retorted, crossing your arms as you glared up at him, almost actually insulted he doubted you.

His long, grey, scaly tail sat curled against the wall, his selling items neatly attached to it. He scowled right back at you, demonstrating his usual toothy grin as his fins twitched slightly. “Sure.” He hissed softly.

You ignored him, browsing his wares with tired eyes. You approached his tail, ripping off a silvery flashlight and examining it. Without a second thought, you stuffed it into your bag and began to leave.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian scoffed. Abruptly, his wide tail clasped over the vent opening, preventing you from leaving. “You haven’t paid. You must actually be stupid, huh?”

“You owe me!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms into the air. “You scared me and made me drop my first flashlight. Now its’ broken, thanks.”

“Oh dear, really?” Sebastian hissed, feigning concern in his voice.

You groan in frustration as the sarcasm hit you, yanking your bag open to find any data you’d collected along the way. You were hoping to get this interaction over with, if he was going to be this sassy.

“Oh..damn..”

You stared into your palms, which held a few scraps of data, some of which were even broken during your travels. Whatever it was, you definetly did not carry enough to afford anything.

Sebastian laughed softly, seemingly observing this as well. “Too bad, then. That’s really embarrassing, I might add.”

“Wait, seriously?!” You clamored, desperate to leave here with something. “I can figure something out!”

“We had a deal. One you agreed to, in case you forgot. Either you pay, or you get nothing, sweetheart.” He added the taunting nickname with a scoff, reaching to take your bag from you.

You leapt away, knowing he’d tear it to pieces with his claws, even if he was trying to be gentle. Which he wasn’t, of course, but still.

“Wait, wait, I can-” You protested. An idea struck you suddenly. Not a very easy one, but it was something, at least. Oh well, what did you have to lose besides your life and freedom?

Sebastian pulled his hand away, narrow eyes boring into you as he waited for you to finish.

“How would you feel about some sort of…romantic gesture? Like, I don’t know, a fucking kiss or something?” You offered, preparing to be screamed out of the room.

But, to your surprise, that didn’t happen. He simply kept that narrow-eyed glare. At first, you thought he might not have heard you, so you drew in a breath to speak again. “I mean, come on. You think I can’t tell you at least like my presence a little? You’ve given me discounts and let me just sleep in here whenever.”

It was silent for a minute. The events you’d listed were true, however. You could recall moments when you’d just been so drained that he reluctantly allowed you to use his tail as some sort of pillow to rest with, along with the discounts on items he claimed were just him being in a “good mood” at the time.

“That desperate, are we?” Sebastian laughed, his voice yanking you out of your daydreams. He thought on your proposal for a few agonizingly long seconds before letting out a deep sigh. “…Fine.”

You let out a breath you didnt know you’d been holding, practically gripping your newfound flashlight as if it were your only lifesource. (It might as well be, considering your conditions, honestly..)

You opened your mouth to continue, though all that escaped you was a startled gasp as Sebastian lifted you off the ground. Cold, sharp claws grasped onto you with a gentleness you didn’t know he was capable of as he held you, level to his scaly face.

Your hands grabbed onto whatever part of his claws you could in order to keep yourself from falling as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“So?” He remarked with a frown. You cleared your throat with a deep breath. “Right..”

You leaned in further, pushing your hands against the side of his face as support before pressing your lips against him. Your body seemed to heat up as you did so, finding an odd sense of comfort as you let it linger for a few extra seconds.

“Mmh.” A satisfied hum escaped Sebastian as he gently curled his claws further around your body. Though the fear of falling wasn’t an issue for you right now. All you could seem to think about was the current situation, and the way it made you feel.

Eventually, you pulled away, wiping your mouth as you cleared your throat. You stared up at him, taking in the slight smirk being thrown your way.

“Good enough for you?” You asked, your voice softer than usual.

“Very,” He sighed, placing you down carefully. Your legs trembled as your feet finally touched the ground, due to the being held midair like that, and also maybe the fact that you had just kissed a sea creature you were told to avoid at all costs.

You tightened the hold on your flashlight as you stared off into space, thinking on your recent actions. Of course it earned you something, but holy shit.

In an attempt to take your mind off this, you sat down, arms wrapped around your legs as the lack of energy finally got to you. Sitting against the wall, you let out a sigh.

“Could I stay for a bit?”

“…For a few hours.” Sebastian exhaled, arms crossed as he glanced down at you.

You smiled, a silent ‘thank you’ as you let the well-deserved sensation of rest overcome you.

This was going to be an odd story to tell when you got back.

so sorry if this is shit, /gen , I haven’t written in forever , plus im much better with hcs 💔

[incorrectbatfam]

how does a batfam pool day go?

The adults: *chilling by the poolside*

Alfred: I am going to fetch some more drinks. Try not to break anything while I'm gone.

Bruce: We've been here for two hours and nothing's happened.

Selina: Exactly. Everything's fine. Right, Kate?

Kate, taking out one headphone: Hm?

Alfred: If you say so, Miss Kyle.

Alfred: *leaves*

Selina, flipping through her magazine: "What sundress you should wear based on your horoscope." Bruce, you're a Pisces, right?

Bruce: Yeah, but—

Cass: *jogs over*

Bruce: What is it, princess?

Cass: *points to a crowd gathered across the pool*

Bruce: Is anyone hurt?

Cass: *shakes her head*

Bruce: Good. Now let's see what this is about.

[across the pool]

Dick: What if we send someone down to push you out?

Jason, stuck in the kiddie tube slide: We already tried that.

Damian, stuck behind Jason: *muffled anger*

Jason: Ow! Quit kicking me, brat.

Dick: We could try pulling again.

Tim: Not again, I got a full day's workout the first time.

Harper: Maybe we need a lubricant. Steph, got any butter?

Steph: Just because I'm the waffle girl doesn't mean I carry butter with me wherever I go.

Harper: Well... do you?

Steph: Yeah, it's in my bag, hang on.

Duke: *recording*

Barbara: Finally, the adults are here.

Bruce: What's going on?

Everyone: *starts talking at once*

Bruce: One at a time. Jason?

Jason: In a way, this is your fault. You keep treating us like kids and we might just forget that we're too old for the kiddie slide.

Bruce: Mhm, sure.

Steph, returning: Got the butter.

Bruce: Good. We'll use half of it here and the other half inside.

Duke: *zooms in*

Tim: *drops half the butter down the slide*

Damian: *muffled*

Tim: *hits the side of the slide*

Tim: The sooner you shut up and cooperate the sooner you'll have Jason's feet out of your face.

Bruce: Okay, all buttered up. On three.

Kate and Selina: *grab Jason's arms and pull*

Jason: *pops out*

Damian: *follows after*

Damian: That was more harrowing than death.

Steph: Where's the wrapper? We should throw it away so we don't contaminate the pool.

Damian: I must have left it in there.

Bruce: I'll get it.

Bruce: *goes down the slide*

Bruce: *gets stuck*

Bruce: Uh oh.

Steph: I'll get my backup butter.

[azrielsrealmate]

who cares about you?

azriel x reader

summary: azriel comes home after a long mission, injured and in search for the comfort of his mate arms.

warnings: nudity(? injuries

word count: 2.5k

english isnt my fist language ladies🥶 soo forgive any possible mistake. To this point I don’t know if I should do maybe a masterlist? 👀

Your heart skips a beat in anticipation, the weariness of the night instantly forgotten as you cross the room to open the door. But the moment you do, that spark of enthusiasm is extinguished, replaced by a deep concern that stabs into you like a dagger, twisting and squeezing your heart.

Azriel stands there, his dark figure outlined against the dimness of the hallway, but it’s his condition that makes the air catch in your lungs. His shadows are agitated, swirling around him with a restlessness that reflects the turmoil within him—they don’t come to greet you as they usually do, they don’t disappear. The blood, mostly dried but still visible, runs from a wound on his brow, trailing down his face to his chin. The smell of iron, mixed with his own scent, is unmistakable. Anxiety has scarred, large hands, and it squeezes your stomach.

“Azriel...” you whisper, the anguish clear in your voice.

But the instant his honeyed eyes meet yours, his expression shifts. The sharp edges soften so as not to cut you, the intensity of his gaze mitigated by something far more tender. With a gentleness that contrasts with his appearance, he brings his hand to your cheek and cups it, his thumb tracing a soft path along your skin.

You lean into his touch, and your eyes flutter closed for just a fraction of a second, your own hand landing on his, as if you could keep that gentle touch there forever. The warmth of his hand is a balm, but not enough to quell the worry growing inside you.

Azriel steps forward, and you remain where you are, and you don’t know how you survived two weeks without seeing him, when the closeness you now share feels like oxygen, you’d suffocate if he stepped away.

You see the conflict in his gaze as you tilt your head back to look at him, the self-loathing he has for worrying you this way. Then, without warning, he dips his head and presses a kiss to your forehead as he opens his side of your bond, which had been closed for those two weeks. The touch of his lips is so soft that you barely feel it, but the intent is clear.

He was fine. He was here. And he doesn’t push you away, he doesn’t shut you out.

But you can’t bear to see him like this, broken, hurt. Ignoring the knot forming in your throat, you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a desperate hug. His reaction is immediate: a gasp of pain escapes his lips.

You pull away instantly, your brow furrowing into a grimace of anguish. “I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breaking, your hands trembling as you lower them to your sides. But he doesn’t let you pull away any more than necessary, his hand still on your cheek, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity that makes you tremble.

He sinks onto the edge of the bed, his body clearly exhausted, and you, without wasting a second, hurry to fetch a bucket of hot water and a cloth. The urgency to care for him, to heal each of his wounds, drives you beyond your own fatigue.

When you return to his side, cloth in hand, you prepare to clean the blood from his face, but Azriel, with that dexterity and strength that never seems to leave him, surprises you. Before you can react, he pulls you onto his lap, your thighs pressed against his hips.

“Azriel,” you protest softly, but there’s no real force in your words. Not when his gaze is so close, when his hands keep you in the only place where both of you can breathe easily.

“Shh,” he murmurs, his breath brushing your lips. “Let me hold you... just for a moment.”

And even though you know you should be focused on tending to his wounds, on making sure he’s not more hurt than he appears, you surrender to the warmth of his body for a second.

The warmth of Azriel’s body, wrapped around yours, feels like you’re finally fitting a missing piece into a puzzle. His hands grip your hips as if he fears you might pull away from him at any moment, and the thought seems ridiculous in your mind, all you want is to let him hold you. But the wound on his brow, the dried blood staining his face, pulls you back to reality.

You’re torn between staying like this, lost in the safety of his embrace, and the urgency to tend to his wounds. The weight of the worry is so intense you can barely stand it. You slide a hand along his cheek, brushing aside a loose strand of his dark hair, and refocus on the task at hand.

“Let me clean this,” you whisper, lifting the warm, damp cloth to his face.

Azriel watches you, his dark eyes shining with a mix of emotions you can’t quite decipher. But he doesn’t resist; he simply stays still as you gently clean the blood from his brow, revealing the small but deep wound beneath. Each movement is slow, careful, as if you fear any additional pressure could cause him more pain. Though even if you did, he wouldn’t react.

He gently massages your hips, his hands appreciating the curve, and his eyes drop to your neck, lingering there, clean skin with no marks, the irrefutable proof that he’s been away for a while, because you always bore some hidden hickey or bite marks on your neck. Azriel was possessive, and he didn’t hide it. You could almost swear that he’s holding himself back from burying his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder.

It’s in that moment, as you slide the cloth along his skin with the utmost delicacy, that you feel a tug in your left shoulder. It’s barely noticeable at first, so you ignore it, but as you continue, the pain becomes sharper, a twinge that makes you catch your breath. You try to ignore it again, focusing on Azriel, but he notices. Of course, he notices.

His brow furrows, and the concern deepens in his features. His grip on your hips tightens, pulling you closer to his body. Just slightly. “What’s wrong with your arm?” His voice is low, but there’s no hiding the insistence in it.

“It’s nothing important,” you try to say, attempting to sound convincing as you avert your gaze, turning your attention back to his wound. But Azriel isn’t someone who accepts evasions, and before you can continue, his hand catches yours, stopping you in your tracks.

“Don’t lie to me.”

You sigh, knowing you can’t hide the truth from him. “Training was a bit tougher today,” you confess, trying to sound nonchalant, but the worry in his face forces you to go on. “Gwyn threw a bad punch, and… well, my shoulder has been hurting since then.”

The shadow of a tense muscle appears in his jaw, and you can see him struggling to stay calm. His eyes darken with a mix of guilt and anger, not toward you, but toward the situation. His hand slides from your hip to your left shoulder, with a touch so gentle it almost breaks you completely. It had taken you a long time to accept his gentle touches without bursting into tears.

“You should have told me earlier,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper as his fingers caress the sore area. “You could have hurt yourself more.”

You almost let out a sarcastic comment. When it’s him training you, you end up even more sore.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you choose to respond, your voice just as low, but he shakes his head before you can finish.

“I worry more if you don’t tell me.”

You fall silent, letting his words sink in, feeling the truth in them. But as the weight of his concern and the warmth of his touch envelop you, a spark of resistance ignites within you, a reminder that you’re not someone who simply stands by, even when it comes to him.

“Azriel…” you begin, but he interrupts you, his voice low but determined.

“Let me handle this,” he says, his gaze fixed on yours, and you can see the exhaustion behind his firmness, the lines of fatigue etched into his face. Yet, something in his tone, in the way he asks you to lean on him, provokes an unexpected reaction in you. It’s not just concern; it’s the guilt that seems to consume him, the need to do something, anything, to feel less powerless. It frustrates you, it’s not his duty to take care of you, especially not when you’re the one trying to take care of him.

“What if I don’t want to?” You respond softly, the challenge subtle but clear in your voice. Azriel blinks, the only sign of surprise he allows to show, but he doesn’t release his grip on your hips.

“Why should you carry everything? Why is it always you who has to protect me, who has to take care of everyone?” you continue, your words soft but laden with a weight you know he understands. He doesn’t just take care of you, he takes care of his entire family. And not just by protecting his Court—he’s always there for anyone who needs him. A solid rock you can lean on. “You worry so much about me, about everyone, but who worries about you, Azriel? Who takes care of you?”

The silence that follows is dense, heavy with unspoken emotions. Azriel lowers his gaze for a moment, his shadows fluttering restlessly around the two of you, around him, appearing from where they had hidden, only to disappear again. And you know, after long hours of studying their patterns, that his shadows are around him when they feel the need to protect him; they hide when he’s completely and utterly safe. When he lifts his head again, there’s something different in his eyes, something vulnerable that he rarely lets others see.

“I don’t know how,” he admits, turning his gaze away, his voice so low you almost don’t hear it.

It hurts to hear him say that, but it also fills you with a new determination, a need to show him that he’s not alone. Gently, you place your hand over his, the one still resting on your hip, and squeeze it firmly.

“Then we’ll learn together,” you say, and there’s a promise in those words, a promise that you won’t let him face this burden alone. “You don’t have to do everything yourself, Azriel. You don’t have to be the shield and the sword all the time. Sometimes… sometimes it’s enough just to be you.”

The silence returns, but this time it’s different. It’s a silence filled with understanding, with a tacit agreement that both of you have reached. Azriel nods slightly, accepting the truth you’ve laid before him, though it’s still hard for him to let go of that control he values so much.

With a sigh, he leans forward, his forehead touching yours, and in that contact, you feel the tension in his body ease just a little. “I need you,” he murmurs, the confession a barely audible whisper between you, but it hits you with the force of a gale. “I need you more than I can bear sometimes.”

The knot in your chest tightens, but instead of speaking, you decide to show him that you understand. Sliding your hands up to his neck, you bring his lips to yours in a soft kiss, but one loaded with all the emotions you don’t need to verbalize. Azriel responds with restrained urgency, as if that kiss were an anchor in the middle of a storm threatening to sweep him away.

When you finally pull apart, you stay there, looking at him, seeing the internal battle playing out in his eyes. Without saying another word, you move, sliding off his lap and pulling his hand to get him to stand with you. Although his brow furrows in confusion, he doesn’t resist.

You lead him to the bathroom, to the tub where the water is still warm. Without releasing his hand, you start undressing him, your fingers deftly undoing his clothes while his eyes remain fixed on you, a mix of surprise and something more shining in them. It’s not a gesture of desire, not now, but an act of care. Of showing him that he can let go, that it’s okay to trust you to be the one to take care of him for once.

Azriel doesn’t say anything, but he lets you proceed, his breathing uneven as you guide him into the tub, helping him into the water. Only then do you join him, carefully getting into the tub, sitting behind him, and pulling him toward you, his back against your chest, being mindful of his wings.

For a moment, both of you remain silent, the water enveloping you in a warm embrace, your hands gently caressing his arms as you feel his body finally begin to relax against yours. And then, in the safe haven you’ve created for him without even realizing it, Azriel lets all his barriers fall, resting his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes as a deep, almost relieved sigh escapes his lips.

“I’ve got you,” you murmur softly. “I’ve got you.”

[kenjakusbraincum]

Sukuna is old. He is also weirdly cultured for the monster that he is. With so much time on his hands, he loves indulging in arts and literature, and as with everything else he tries, he's good at it. You wouldn't know this, of course, you are only his pet. The time you spend with him is limited and hardly consists of intellectual conversation. You are there to serve one purpose and you know that quite well. So when you wake up in his bed one morning, two things come as a surprise. First that you're even here. It's one of those rare occasions when Sukuna couldn't be bothered kicking or carrying you out of his chambers once your time together was up. Second, he's awake, bent over his desk and so concentrated on a little figurine in his hand that he doesn't immediately notice you've shuffled awake. Once your eyes focus, you see that he's holding a tool in his other hand. He's carving wood. You're almost hypnotized by the scene. The scene feels so private that even for a pet like you, who knows Sukuna in the most intimate way, it feels like you shouldn't be watching. But you can't look away.

"Awake?", he asks, without sparing a glance at you. You apologize for staring, and look for your clothes around the bed. You throw them on just precisely enough to cover up until you reach your chambers, just wanting to be as quick and innocuous as possible. You wait for Sukuna's approval to leave. He gives you a simple nod, once more avoiding to look at you. You leave feeling conflicted. Special, because he allowed you to stay and watch (even as little as you did), but saddened because he barely looked at you, once more solidifying in your mind that you're only interesting to him when you're naked and bent over. As long as you've been here, you could never stop wishing for his validation.

Sukuna knows when you get insecure too. He notices the way your eyes droop, the way you close in on yourself and seem absent in his presence. He justifies this excessive worry about you by telling himself he likes to be the only thing that bothers his pets. All the way until he realized he already is the only thing that can make you sad. This realization falls upon him one time he lashes out on you and sees the immediate change of heart on your face. Now, he isn't one to apologize, especially not to someone who is as low under him as his pet. But why does he feel guilty when he sees this one act of his ruin your day? When he catches a glimpse of you sitting in the garden with your head hung low, or leaving more food on your plate than you usually do. If only you knew the way you really made him feel.

He beckons you to his chambers, and you follow three steps behind him like a good pet does. You didn't expect this time to be any different than others. You've become used to serving Sukuna on days you loved him and on days you hated him. But when he tells you to close your eyes, you know something is different. You obey, of course, and listen to his footsteps as he fetches something from the room. His hand takes yours and opens it, placing a piece of wood onto your palm. You already know, but you wait for him to allow you to open your eyes. He lightly presses his thumb on your cheek under your eye, and when you look, you find a small wooden fawn, curled up and asleep in your hands.

"Master!!..", you start, but nothing else can leave your mouth. You turn the figure around in your hand, inspecting and admiring the details. He's given you gifts before, but not ones carved by his own hand. Not ones made with love.

"You don't have to squint anymore.", Sukuna says, almost jokingly. But his face is as serious as ever as he looks at you, his muse. He thinks of the first time he's exhausted you to the point of passing out right after your nightly meetings. You were relatively new and very unsure of your safety. He thinks of your small body curled up in sleep on the edge of his bed, knees pressed to your chest in a primal, subconscious attempt to protect yourself. His little pet, his fawn.

You slur on and on about how beautiful it is, how you don't know how to thank him, the usual when you receive a gift. And as usual, Sukuna shuts you up with a kiss. You welcome it and wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself in to him and letting him take you to the bed.

And he takes things slow tonight. He's gentle and so, so giving. Every sensation is delicate, prolonged and heightened to exhaustion. You cling to him, pull him impossibly close, and come apart under the comforting weight of him. Afterwards, you hold his hand to your face and kiss it softly. His hands, so large and strong, capable of such violence, yet for you they craft gifts, cradle, caress, love... in a very subtle and distant way, of course. With these thoughts your hands slip away from his, you turn around and quickly drift off.

He looks at you now, sleeping so close to him. Trusting him with your back, and turning your curled up form to the outside world. As if he is no longer a perceived danger. He smiles to himself in victory, and plants a chaste kiss to your shoulder to wish you one final goodnight.

[icarusredwings]

Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?

"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"

Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.

The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.

Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.

Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.

When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.

"Mrs. Munroe?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."

"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."

She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.

Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.

"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.

She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."

"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.

"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.

"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.

"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."

"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.

"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.

"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.

She smiles. "Your husband."

"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.

"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.

"Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"

"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."

You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"

"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.

"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."

And is stabbed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"

"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"

Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"

Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.

She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.

And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.

P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.

[queen-of-fanfics]

Stay Away From Him

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.

A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!

Part 2

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Peter!”

“Hey, Y/N”

“Oh hey, Peters.”

“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.

“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”

This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.

Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.

“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.

“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.

“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.” 

“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in. 

Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.

“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”

“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.

You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.

“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.

He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.

“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.

“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.

“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.

“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.

“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.

Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.

“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie. 

“What? You keeping her hostage now?”

All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving. 

“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie. 

“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.

“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.” 

“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.

“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”

“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.

“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”

“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”

“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders. 

Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises. 

“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.” 

“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”

Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out. 

“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”

“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.” 

Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”

“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.

“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else. 

You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off. 

“Come up here and help me look at this.” 

Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.

“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”

You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.

“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances. 

“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”

“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”

“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras? 

The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.

About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”

Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”

“You two have gotten close?”

Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”

A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”

“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.” 

Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues. 

“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now. 

“I said ‘you should stay’-”

“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”

“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones. 

“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”

“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.

“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.

“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”

“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!” 

“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.

“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.” 

All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.

“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.

Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber. 

After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings. 

Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening. 

“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”

Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.

“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”

Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.” 

And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home. 

[leahsgf]

LIFESAVER - leah williamson

leah williamson x child!reader | based on this request!

leah sighed as she awoke to the sound of your cries ringing through the baby monitor for what felt like the tenth time that night, wincing even more when she checked the time - it of course being only five minutes before her alarm was due to go off, only her luck.

you were usually a pretty good sleeper, and rarely cried in general, never mind throughout the night - so she had known almost instantly the first time you had awoken that you were feeling under the weather, and her worries had only proven right as the night had gone on and your state had worsened.

and again, as if it was part of a well planned routine, your cries only intensified when she eventually padded across the hallway and pushed open the door to your room, your little arms immediately throwing themselves up towards her, desperately in search of any form of comfort.

she bent down and scooped you out of your crib, cradling you in her arms in an instant, never one to deny you her embrace.

“i’m here sweetheart, i’ve got you. what’s the matter hm? can you tell mama?” she soothed for what felt like the hundredth time, running her hand through your bed head, voice so gentle that no outsider would believe it was the same stoic england captain they were so used to if they witnessed it.

you simply whined, more tears angrily slipping down your noticeably red cheeks as you buried your face into her neck, whimpering - her feeling warmth radiating off of you like a heater.

she had picked up on your temperature over the night and had kept an eye on it, and whilst it had definitely now started to come back down, she could tell that you still weren’t feeling great. she could guess based on how sniffly your cries had become, paired with the level of sick you'd been over the course of the night - that you’d picked up the latest nasty bug, most likely from your nursery, despite you only going there once or twice a week.

the nursery that you now wouldn’t be able to attend for the next forty eight hours whilst your mother went to training.

usually, leah wouldn't even hesitate to call jonas and let him know that she wouldn't be able to make it to training - you were her number one priority always, but of course, the one day you get ill happens to be the one day of the season that leah can't miss, or arrange for somebody to look after you at home.

meaning she'd have to bring you with her.

“okay my bubba. we’re gonna make you all better in no time, kay? you're gonna be my little helper for the day and come to work with me, and see all your aunties! they'll be so excited to see you.” she chatted away to you as she made her way down to the kitchen - prepping your morning bottle and fetching you some 'magic' medicine, whilst bouncing you gently in her arms.

you settled finally as you drank, clutching onto the bottle for dear life as leah stroked your forehead, it’s temperature finally going down to somewhat normal as the medicine started to kick in, your tiredness following, and catching up to you.

you were almost fast asleep as she bathed and changed you into some fresh, non sicky clothes, texting the arsenal group chat as a pre warning of your previously unexpected arrival.

she was grateful to say the least when she looked in her mirror to see you still knocked out in your car seat as she drove to the training ground - hoping that you finally getting some rest in meant that you were on the up, and that you'd wake up feeling better again.

“come on then my girl, let’s go see everyone then shall we” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your head as she unbuckled and lifted your sleeping frame into her arms, slipping your dummy into your mouth and grabbing your blanket, before grabbing both of your bags and heading inside.

-

“there’s my favourite girl!” an unmistakable irish voice boomed down the corridor from behind the pair of you, leah wincing as you stirred ever so slightly - not wanting to deal with another repeat of this morning.

thankfully, no such thing happened - katie getting the hint after a single look from the blonde, and a slap on the arm from caitlin.

“shit, sorry! do you want us to take her whilst you go and speak to jonas and kim about the plan for the day? they said it won't take long today” katie whispered, already reaching out for you before she had an answer.

“you’re a lifesaver, thank you! i'll be as quick as i can - if she does wake up there’s anything she’ll need in her bag, but she should hopefully be out for a while.” leah gently transferred you into katie’s waiting arms, a now well practiced routine with the team whenever they wanted baby cuddles and you were sleeping, and passed the aussie beside her your bag.

-

by the time you woke again, nearly four hours had passed - and you had been in pretty much everyone in the building's arms at some point or another as the team took turns doing drills.

your auntie viv was the lucky one this time, your eyes fluttering open slowly as she swayed with you wrapped up in her hold, humming a dutch lullaby. she was easily one of your favourite people, and had been for as long as you could remember, having cried in everybody else's arms apart from hers, the most awkward and freaked out person over holding a baby in the room, when you were a couple of weeks old.

"vivi" you mumbled, voice muffled by both your dummy and the sleep as you glanced up at her, playing with her fingers ever so softly.

"hi tiny, you feeling any better?" she asked, knowing that you probably had no idea what she was asking you, and that the fact you weren't crying was probably the best answer she was going to get.

you had perked up massively, some colour finally returning to your cheeks as your sleep clearly fought off whatever nastiness you had been feeling earlier on.

you babbled incoherently and pointed towards where alessia, katie and steph were chatting - another sign that you were definitely feeling a little bit more like yourself, wanting to be involved in what everyone was doing again.

the dutch woman placed you down on the floor as you wriggled and attempted to get down yourself, chuckling and following after you as you determinedly toddled over to the trio.

katie was the first to notice you and scoop you up, pretending that you were a rocket ship, making you squeal with laughter before steph had reminded her to be gentle with you. she only tickled you softly in response before placing you back down and letting you kick a ball to her and alessia, as steph rummaged through your backpack for a top up of medicine and a snack for you - knowing that you'd likely be starving.

the australian had very nearly been met with a complete meltdown when you'd spotted the medicine, it only being resolved because you saw lia stopping to get a snack and take her own medicine for her leg, letting you go and happily sit with her, thinking you were as cool as your auntie lia as steph popped the syringe of pink liquid into your mouth.

-

leah had been checking in on how you were doing every half an hour or so, and she had never been happier to see you run towards her when she caught your eye.

"hi my baby! how are you feeling?" she cooed, granting your wish to be in her arms immediately and fussing over you whilst thanking all of the girls for their help.

“she’s been good, slept like a champ and just had some more medicine - think she’s officially on the mend.” steph answered, grinning at you and playing with your hair as leah pressed kisses to your cheek.

you clapped your hands and cheered, not understanding the words but loving the attention that was on you - and how the horrible ache in your body had started to fade.

“alright then! we’re all done for the day so we’re gonna head off for some much needed rest - thank you girls for all of your help with this one. say bye to your aunties then bubba.” leah collected all of your stuff and waved goodbye - you copying her almost identically, as expected.

“bye bye.” you said as clearly as your dummy would allow, waving again at each of the girls individually, who had all gathered near you, their usual place whenever you were around.

“clumsy lessi.” you mumbled as you pointed at alessia, the rest room erupting in laughter just like every other time you said it, and the striker once again protested.

“she knows like ten words and those are two of them!”

"don't get mad at the baby for speaking the truth russo!"

[theosbutterfly]

the best thing at this party — t. nott

❝ fighting in only your army frontlines, don't you ignore me i'm the best thing at this party ❞

pairing: jealous!theo x malfoy!reader

context: at yours and draco's annual back-to-hogwarts bash, a pair of weasleys show up uninvited, much to theo's dismay.

words: 2.3k+

warnings: jealousy, somewhat possessive behavior, reader's kind of a bitch, theo's kind of an asshole, marijuana use, alcohol use, vomiting, a little fluff, mainly angst

"so where's the principessa?" you hear theo bring you up in conversation as you and pansy descend the stairs to join the boys in the foyer. "taking extra time to fix up her hair?"

"é un dato di fatto, lo ero," as a matter of fact, i was. you lean a hand against the banister, stopping on the last step, eyes focusing on theo. there's a chance you may or may not have learned italian just to make sure he couldn't insult you without your knowledge—not that it stopped him, but at least this way, you could defend yourself. "it takes time to look this good. but glad to know you noticed my absence."

"ooh, she got you there, mate," blaise chuckles, placing a hand on theo's shoulder, who shrugs it off.

"whatever," he spat, rolling his eyes. "i need a drink."

"finally something i can get on board with," mattheo points a finger at him, and they both turn to head towards the sitting room, pansy trailing closely behind them.

"is pans still trying to get with matt?" enzo asks, tilting his head up at you as they walked away.

"beats me," you shrugged, stepping down the last step and glancing between them. "now, why are you two standing here like a bunch of statues? last i checked, party's over there." you point your thumb towards the parlor, which appeared to be glowing green.

"the gate's still open," blaise shrugs. "draco wants us to watch for 'undesirables'."

"undesirables?" you repeat the word just so he could hear how ridiculous it sounded. "has he gone mad?"

"he wants to make sure no one from the other houses show up," blaise clarifies.

"fuck that," you shake your head. "come on." you link your arms with one of blaise's and one of enzo's, waving a finger up in the air. "colloportus!" the spell causes the front door and front gate to seal shut, as you begin walking with blaise and enzo towards the music. "now, where's dobby?"

your house elf immediately appears in front of you at the sound of his name.

"dobby is here, miss y/n," he looks up at you. "what can dobby do for you?"

you unlink your arms from blaise and enzo's and crouch down to be eye level with him. "fetch me the good liquor from the cellar downstairs, and then come find me when you've got it."

he nods. "dobby is on it miss y/n!"

—

"what are you doing standing here all alone?" daphne greengrass saunters over to theo, who was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand.

"daphne greengrass," theo greets her. "i'm surprised you're here. wouldn't the head girl disapprove of rowdy parties as such?" he waves his drink towards the crowd that had turned the malfoy's parlor into a makeshift dance floor, and she chuckles.

"i'm turning over a new leaf," she shrugs, taking a sip of her own drink. "it is our last year, after all."

"thank merlin for that," you walk between them, and lean over the bar to reach for four shot glasses.

"y/n," daphne's voice is strained as she clears her throat. "nice to see you."

you stand up straight after retrieving what you were looking for and turn your head towards her. "i'd say the same, but i'm not a liar."

theo shifts his eyes between the two of you, slightly amused at the way daphne takes a deep breath to keep her composure while you throw her a close-lipped smile.

"where'd you get the bottle, y/n?" he cuts in to prevent a cat fight from breaking out between you and daphne, and eyes the bottle of fire whiskey in your hand.

you look at him. "i had dobby fetch it from the cellar," you say. "pans and i are gonna drink it dry."

"just the two of you?" he raises an eyebrow, condescension painting his features. "does draco know about that?"

"why?" you challenge. "are you gonna go run off and tattle on me?"

before he could reply, another voice cuts in. "oi, malfoy! are we getting pissed or what?"

you turn your attention away from theo to the one of the weasleys you'd found lurking around the corners. "well, you're quite the impatient one, aren't you, freddie?"

heat rises in theo's chest when he gets a better look of the guy under the green light, and realizes its a weasley. what the hell was he doing here? and why were you allowing it?

"time is of the essence, darling," fred tells you. "george and i are trying to get a taste of this drink you've got before we inevitably get kicked out of here."

"what are you doing here, weasley?" theo speaks through gritted teeth, and looks at you. "you invited them?"

"of course not," you shrug. "they snuck in."

theo's eyes narrow at you. "and you're offering them a drink instead of throwing them out?"

"they ditched their house colors to don ours for the night," you tell him, eyes focused on fred. "i think that deserves them a little taste of slytherin."

theo doesn't miss the way fred's eyes trail over your body, and rolls his eyes. "maybe even more than a little," fred smirks.

you giggle at his words, but before you could walk away with him, theo grabs the back of your arm, pulling you close, his lips right above your ear. "cosa fai?" what are you doing?

you tilt your head up to have your eyes meet his. "mi sto divertendo," i'm having fun. "dovresti provarlo qualche volta." you should try it sometime.

you yank your arm out of his hold and don't give him a chance to respond, waltzing away towards the crowd.

"merlin, she is fit," fred comments, watching the way your hips sway as you walk away. "is she seeing anyone?"

"if she was, it certainly wouldn't be you," theo tells him.

"we'll see about that, mate. excuse me," fred throws him a smirk, before walking away to follow you across the room.

theo watches as he does, bringing his glass up to his lips to finish of his drink.

"do you-" daphne starts, but he doesn't let her finish, slamming his glass down on the bar and walking off.

—

"you all look pissed," pansy stumbles over to the guys, who were seated in a secluded area of the manor that was somewhat devoid of all the noise from the party in the parlor, passing around a joint.

"not as much as you, it seems," mattheo chuckles as she falls beside him, head falling against his shoulder. "where you been?"

"drinking with y/n," she says, eyes slowly fluttering close.

"that was your first mistake," enzo tuts, taking a long drag and inhaling. "that girl can drink double her weight in alcohol."

"mhm," pansy hums, eyes fully closing as her body falls limp against mattheo.

"alright," mattheo shifts, just enough to wake her and get her up on her feet. "look like someone's had enough for the night. come on." he begins to the guide pansy out of the room, his eyes telling the guys that he'd be right back.

"what the bloody hell did they even drink?" blaise asks, shifting his eyes between theo and enzo.

"fire whiskey," theo blows smoke out of his mouth and takes another drag. 

blaise's eyes widen. "and they didn't think to share? bloody wankers."

"they were too busy sharing it with y/n's new conquests," theo replies bitterly, passing the joint off to him.

"seems to me she's sharing more than that," enzo cuts in, raising his silver flask to point at you and fred on the opposite side of the room, where surely enough, you were tucked between him and the wall, one hand beside your head and one hand on you waist.

"oh, bloody hell," theo rolls his eyes, pulling a chuckle out from enzo.

"who is that guy anyway?"

"fred weasley," theo grits out.

"you're bloody kidding," blaise snickers, leaning forward to flick off some ash from the a joint. 

"oh, i'm bloody serious," theo nods. "he's been eye-fucking her since she showed him the tiniest bit of attention. it was quite pathetic, if you ask me."

"what's with the bitterness, mate?" enzo asks, attention shifting to theo. "you jealous?"

theo scoffs. "jealous? please. non durerà in alcun modo." no way that's gonna last. you weren't exactly the "relationship" type.

enzo shakes his head. "no clue what that means, but it didn't sound nice."

"you know how y/n is," theo tells him, hand motioning towards you and fred across the room. "it's nothing but a game to her."

"so what?" blaise asks, handing the joint over back to enzo. "you bitter she won't let you play?"

"who won't let who play?" mattheo rejoins them, and sits back down beside theo.

"theo's jealous fred weasley's got his claws in y/n," enzo catches him up.

"alright," theo stands from the sofa, no longer wanting to hear anymore of it. "i'm done with this shit."

—

unfortunately for theo, the second he headed for the bar and away from the boys, you were also already there with fred.

"alright, freddie, what's it gonna be?" your body was bent over the bar counter, fred's eyes trailing over it as you tried to reach for two different bottles. "rum or brandy?"

"oh, i'm in the mood for something much tastier, love," fred flirts, causing theo to roll his eyes.

"bloody hell," you hear theo mutter, and stand up straight after taking a hold of the two bottles you were looking for. "can't you two do this elsewhere?"

"well, no one's forcing you to stand there and watch," you retort, eyes shooting him an ice cold glare.

"for merlin's sake," he groans, clearly frustrated. "if you wanna fuck him, at least do it in one of the many private rooms upstairs so you can at least keep some of your dignity."

the words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them, making you scoff and set both bottles down before getting close to him to make sure he hears you loud and clear. "fuck you."

you walk away from both of them and head for the corridor, while fred looks at theo.

"that-"

"don't fucking say anything, weasley," theo cuts him off, and leaves him behind, legs immediately following after you.

"y/n, wait!" he takes grab of your wrist and pulls to make you stop and turn to look at him.

"get off!" you shake his hand off your wrist, arms crossing in front of your chest as you looked at him.

"oh, smettila di essere una tale stronza," oh, stop being such a bitch. he tells you.

"you know what theo-" you start to give him a piece of your mind, when an uneasy feeling suddenly creeps into your stomach and slides up the back of your throat. 

fuck.

you immediately push past him to head for the nearest bathroom and he follows, as your knees hit the cold tile floor and reminiscents of what you ate before you started drinking came pouring out into the toilet in front of you.

"alright," theo winces, crouching down beside you to take a hold of your hair and gently rub a hand up and down your back. "let it out."

—

"ugh," you complain, swinging your bedroom door open and proceeding inside as you tucked your now messed up hair behind your ears. "this was not how this night was suppose to go."

theo chuckles behind you, closing your door and tossing your heels down on the ground beside your dresser.

"oh, i'm so glad you find this amusing," you spat, undoing your hair and placing the bobby pins down on your vanity.

"i just find it funny that even after two years of drinking, you still can't hold shit down," he says, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

you mimic his words, but don't actually say anything. "ugh!" you groan loudly when it suddenly becomes much harder to tug your dress off. "why is this not-"

you stop when you feel cold fingers trail across and down your back, your skin feeling like over a hundred degrees. "hai dimenticato di aprirlo, farfalla." you forgot to unzip it, butterfly.

your eyes threaten to flutter close at the deep sound of his voice, goosebumps rising upon your skin, as he slowly unzipped the back of your dress. "theo…"

his hand lingers above your lower back, as he leaned down, lips just right above your ear. "potresti fare meglio di weasley, lo sai?" you could do better than weasley, you know that?

his breath on your ear makes a shiver run down your spine, as your head tilted back against him. "mostramelo meglio allora." show me better then.

to anyone else, this would seem odd. but to the two of you, this was just how you worked. one second you were bickering, and the next, whispering sweet nothings. it was a dance that you both knew all too well.

though the thread he used to keep you at a distance threatened to snap, theo holds himself back—you were draco's baby sister. he wasn't suppose to want you. he couldn't.

"dovresti dormire un po'," you should get some sleep. he lets himself stay beside you for one more moment, before finally pulling away—to your disappointment.

"you're not gonna stay?" you grab at the sides of your dress to keep it from falling down as you turned to look at him.

"non posso," i can't. he shakes his head at you, despite your forming pout. he didn't know what he'd get himself into if he stayed, and a part of him was afraid to find out. "buona notte, farfalla."

good night, butterfly.

part 2 coming soon!!!

re-entering my slytherin boys era bc tension with theo is the BEST kind of tension, and hopefully this didn't disappoint.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @helendeath @freshlypickledpancakes

[divinesolas]

Unexpected Surprise

Summary: While attempting to gain the support of the vale, jeyne arryn has plans of her own for the prince.

r.q: Everyone forgets house Arryn😔🤘🏻 baddies of the vale Can you write something w Jace and an Arryn maybe lady Jayne’s little sister or daughter or something? Not a totally unreasonable alliance !! They have the coolest castle and knights also Ms Aemma Arryn ™️ like hello!! (I’m impatient as hell for more Vale coverage in season 2)

w.c: 900+

c.w: baela and jacaerys are not betrothed, arryn!reader jenye’s daughter, FLUFF, just a very cute fic, drabble, not proofread

a.n: IVE HAD THIS DONE SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR NO REASON OMGGGG but with the recent jeyne content i felt inspired to write this !! just something super simple <3 HOPE YOU ENJOY !! LOVE UUUU GUYS

masterlist - requests open

“Im sorry, what my lady?”

“I wish for you to marry my daughter.”

This is not how jacaerys thought this would go. When he arrived in the vale he thought he thought he would have to make simple small talk, present some of the benefits, hells even throw some complements her way in order to convince her. This however had not been in his cards.

“I'm sorry my lady i do not understand.”

“My daughter, y/n remains unmarried, around your age, a sweet girl, agree to wed her and me and my men will bend the knee.”

He blinks. He has no clue what to say to her. Jeyne stands after a moment, “I shall go fetch her.” He watches as one of the guards tries to stop her and tells her he will go retrieve the girl but Jeyne seems determined to go herself and he moves letting her leave. Jacaerys stands awkwardly in the middle of the room unsure of what to do.

He is not too sure he can just flat out agree to a proposal without his mother position, it is not like he is a second son, he is the heir to the queen. The next king, his wife to be the next queen. Yet when he sees you walking into the room, wearing a long dress in your house colors with your mother trialing behind with a pleased look on her face he finds himself wanting to agree to the marriage right away.

You are stunning. Easily the most beautiful women he’s ever seen, sure he hasn’t seen that many women but it doesn’t matter. He watches as you bow and mindlessly nods in acknowledgment, unable to take his eyes off you.

Jeyne looks between the two of you with a satisfied look. “Why don’t you show the prince around?” She gives you a pointed look to which you nod, “Of course i would be happy to.”

He walks over and offers you his arm with a smile on his face and you graceful take it before you begin to walk off with him. Jeyne stays behind and smiles to herself.

“My mother is very forward i apologize to you.” He simply shakes his head, he finds himself look at you instead of the halls he’s supposed to be looking at. “It is not an issue my lady, I rather appreciate it.” You look at him curiously but turn away once you notice he is already looking at you. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Many people speak in riddles, not saying what they mean or truly want, your mother is a rare gem.” You smile at the praise of your mother, “She truly is.”

You lead him outside and begin to tell him about the different plants and different sculptures around the courtyards. He is so charmed by you. The way you light up when you spot something and you begin to tell him of a memory you have, like how your mother scolded you for jumping around in the fountain, or when you almost fell out of one of the window's when you fell asleep.

“You truly love this place.” He can tell. The way you smile at the guards as they walk by or the way you know every detail about everything in the walls. But he sees the way you falter slightly at his words, “Am i wrong?”

You shake your head vigorously, “no no i do, its just i have never been away from here. My mother is a very protective woman, she waves away any suitors, she never even lets me leave the eyrie it is ridiculous!” You realize you're letting your emotions show too much and bow your head, “i am sorry that was out of line.”

He grabs your hands and you look at him with wide eyes. “I understand my lady, my mother is similar, i have truly never traveled to far, i wish to explore, once my mother has her rightful throne i believe i will take the time to see westeros a little bit,” He pauses before he speaks again, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “I could take you with me? if that is what you wish my lady.”

He watches as your eyes begin to glow and you beam at him, “truly? oh nothing would make me happier.” He nods and grips your hands tighter, “I shall take you everywhere.”

He does not expect you to throw your hands around his neck and pull him into a hug. He wraps his hands around your lower back, pushing his head into your neck and breathing in your scent. “I will accept your mothers propsal at once. You will fly with me to winterfell.” You pull back and give him an eager look. “Winterfell? Truly?” He nods, “I am to go meet lord cregan stark.”

You can barely contain your excitement at the thought of seeing something that was not the eyrie, especially a place as grand as winterfell.

Jeyne watched you two smile at one another from a window above with a small smile on her face. She does not hear the guard approaching her from behind, “You seem pleased my lady.” She says nothing to him for a moment, simply continuing to stare at the two of you. “Tell my men to ready themselves for war. It seems he will accept my proposal.”

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[mondaymelon]

— 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 "𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲". ♥

:feat~ xiao, kazuha, wanderer x gn!reader:

⤷ cw: fluff. that's just about it

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis

“Love, where are you?”

XIAO appears almost instantly by your side, albeit looking the slightest confused - his puzzlement written all over his face as he glances at you with his gilded gaze. “I told you to call my name if you needed me, so why are you…”

You beam at his response, suddenly throwing your arms around him, to which he hesitates, then returns your embrace. “Because you’re the one I love, silly!” Leaning forward, you give the adeptus a light peck on the cheek, withdrawing as fast as you advanced.

Touching a gloved hand to his flushed face, the male stays silent for the count of three before speaking once more, “...You’re really so embarrassing at times…”

“Aw, you didn’t want me to call you that…?” Figure slumping, you pout, giving him sad eyes.

“...N-No, that’s… not what I meant.” Of course he can’t refuse you when you’re looking at him with such a sparkling, innocent adoration glowing in your eyes.

“So I can call you that, then?”

This earns you a long sigh from the stoic man, but his expression shows no exasperation. “Must all you mortals be so trivial?”

“Ah, just give me an answer…”

Has he been waiting for this moment? Perhaps he has, for now Xiao leans forward and returns your kiss from before with one of his own, the lightest smile gracing his lips.

“...Do whatever you’d like, love.” ♥

“Love, what are you up to?”

It takes KAZUHA a ten second pause to respond, glancing up from the book he’s reading in the dim lamplight of the Crux residencies. “...Me?” The way he’s blinking so rapidly is almost humorous.

“Who else?” You smile playfully at him, shifting closer to his tensed figure to get a peek over his shoulder, trying to glance at what he’s reading so diligently. “Of course I mean you, love.”

It’s hard not to tease him when his expression is so flustered. He’s quite the calm man, but this once, your antics have managed to catch him off guard.

It takes another moment for the male to meet your gaze, but when he does, his crimson eyes sparkle as red dusts his cheeks. “Haha, you really do always catch me by surprise, don’t you? It’d do me well to fetch myself a piece of paper and a pen now… I’m sure I wouldn’t want to forget this moment.” 

Setting down his book next to him, he leans into your body, smiling at your warmth. Moments like these are bliss, where no words are shared, yet the two of you reside comfortably in each other’s presence.

When he quietly glances up at you, the shimmering affection in his eyes is startlingly apparent. 

“That’s what I love about you, dove.”  ♥

“Love, c’mon, look at me…”

And just like that, your words have drawn WANDERER in once more. His expression is enraged, that’s for sure, but the slight flush on his cheeks, almost hidden by his hair, is undeniable.

“Wh-” He pauses, whipping around, eyes wide. “What do you think you’re doing, calling me by such… frivolous titles…!” Strange, why is he acting like you’ve committed some sort of grave offense?

“Hm? But love, what’s wrong?” You smile, practically beaming as the anger on his face only grows more apparent.

“Oh- You- You know exactly what you’re doing, aren’t you? Listen here…” And just like that, his stuttering tone shifts. Suddenly his gaze is cold as it's now trained on you. “Who do you think you are, to assume that you are to call me such names?”

Perhaps you know, or perhaps you don’t. Names carry an obscure value to the male, one that he can’t even begin to unravel. After all, he is one of many names as well… Kunizukushi, Scaramouche… and now, Wanderer. Each of those titles that seem to shape just who he is, molding his identity with each letter.

So for you to call him that word so carefreely…

He’s not exactly sure how it feels, but there’s a knot in his chest, right where his heart would be.

“…Sorry.” You sheepishly sigh. “That was unbecoming. I didn’t realize you’d be so… sorry.”

Ah, look what he’s done. Now you’re apologizing for his problem. And before he knows it, the words slip through his mouth, true to the feeling that’s beginning to overwhelm him.

“No, don’t apologize.”

“Just… tell me, how should I be feeling right now?”

“It’s hard to think, and for some reason, my face is all red…” ♥

(a/n) not scara being the only one who doesn't call you a name back 💀

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Age Difference with Logan Howlett

A/N: I hope this satisfies both the age difference and the bratting for this request. It’s not mentioned in the fic, but I wrote the Reader to be in his twenties or so.

ALSO!!! This fic is dedicated to the wonderful anon who sent me such a nice ask the other day. Thank you for your words; they were deeply appreciated. Also, bc it wouldn’t be here without them, this is dedicated to the anon who requested it. I hope it fits what you were wanting <3

Written for an ftm!Reader

Link to masterlist here

CW: bratting; implied age difference (Reader is younger than Logan); language; explicit sexual content; smut; mentioned spanking; Reader’s arousal is called slick; Logan carries Reader; Reader is called devil, pretty boy, and good boy; spanking; errrr Logan smacks Reader’s parts; Reader’s parts are called dick and hole; mentioned crying; slight fingering; Logan tastes Reader’s slick; unprotected penetrative sex; rough sex; missionary position, I think?; implied multiple rounds; implied cum eating; implied cunnilingus; no mentioned aftercare

1829 words

It starts as all your great plans do. By impulse and a touch of chaos.

“Hey. Can you get me a beer since you’re in the kitchen?”

You don’t even look up at the sound of Logan’s voice. You know he’s talking to you, but you make him say it again before glancing over at him. “Hmm? You want what?”

His eyes narrow. You know he can tell you’re up to something. “A beer. Please.”

You almost do it. Just for the addition of the please. But the chaos in you wins out. You turn away again. “Do it yourself.”

Then, just to add fuel to the fire, you add, “Old man.”

Silence. You revel in it. It’s not everyday you can get him like this.

After a few moments of you continuing to not get the beer, he stands up and gets it himself. Muttering, “Fucking brat,” on his way back.

You know you’ve gotten off lightly, but that’s not what you were wanting. No, you want to see him all riled up and pissed off. He always fucks you rough on those days.

You do it again on a mission.

“Hey, kid, can you pass me the—“

“No.” You hate it when he calls you kid. It makes you feel small. A little too young. And he usually remembers that.

“Please, can I have the—“

“Nope. Go fetch, old man.”

You can feel how much he wants to spank you. Smack you across the ass and growl out that you need to behave.

But you’re around others, so he just grunts angrily and goes to get it himself.

The final blow is when he’s in the mansion garage. It’s late. Everyone’s in bed except for him. And you, but only because you spent way too long waiting for him and now you’re pissed enough to go find him.

You lean against his workbench, watching him intently. You know he knows you’re there, but he only acknowledges you with a grunt.

Then, “Pass me that tool, will you?”

You know which tool he’s talking about. It’s literally right next to you. But you hold his gaze as you speak. “No. Get it yourself, old man.”

His jaw clenches. After a moment, he steps back from his motorcycle and brushes off his jeans. He turns to face you, gaze dark and unyielding. “You know, I’m getting real sick of your fucking attitude.”

His tone sends a thrill down your spine. All dark and growly and low. You’re not surprised to feel slick gathering in your boxers.

But he pauses. Sniffs the air. When he refocuses on you, his gaze is hungry. “So, this is a game to you, huh? You’re being a brat on purpose.”

You cross your arms, still holding his gaze. “And what if I am? We both know you can’t handle me, old— Fuck!”

He scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder with ease. You squirm; half in discomfort, half because it’s so fucking hot. You know he knows, but still you protest. “Logan, put me down! I’m not a fucking kid!”

“You sure act like one,” he snarls back, striding purposefully through the dark halls. His hand coming up to grip your ass. “Sassing me and giving me that crap attitude. Can’t even act your fucking age for once. Gotta make me do all the goddamn work.”

“I didn’t mean—“

“I know exactly what you meant, you little devil.” His fingers dig into your ass, a subtle warning. “You meant to have some good old fun with me, didn’t you? Maybe get me all riled up so I’ll fuck you all nice and angry like.”

You keep your mouth shut this time. He knows you a little too well.

At your lack of an answer, he spanks your ass. Hard. You yelp and squirm, not expecting the blow at all. “Logan!”

“I asked you a question. Answer it.”

“Yes! Yes, that’s what I was doing!” You whimper a little. Maybe if he wasn’t carrying you, you’d give him more attitude. But in this position? You’re practically defenseless.

Not to mention, the puddle of slick in your boxers is getting uncomfortable with your pants on.

So you keep quiet, letting him carry you without issue to his room. As you pass, you’ve never been more grateful that Logan’s room is the furthest in the mansion. You can be as loud as you want without disturbing too many of the teachers.

Some of them will just have to suffer.

Logan opens the door to his room and enters. Shutting it behind him.

“You little motherfucker,” he growls, tossing you on the bed. “Strip. Now.”

You scramble to obey before you even realize you’re doing it. Pushing your pants halfway down your legs before it occurs to you to argue.

He can sense your hesitation. He lets out a low growl, eyes narrowing. You resume taking off your pants.

“That’s a good boy.”

A part of you preens at the praise. The other part wants to snark back. You just pull off your shirt and keep quiet.

Your boxers are sticky with slick. Sticky and uncomfortable. You need them off, and soon. You don’t know if you can go another moment without Logan touching you in some way.

As if on cue, Logan reaches over and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your boxers. He yanks them down, making you squirm from the sudden rush of cool air against your sensitive body.

“Logan… don’t be—“ You stop. Now is not the time for whining, especially not with that look in his eyes.

“Don’t be what?” His voice is low, a dangerous challenge. “Don’t be what, pretty boy?”

You squirm and fight back a whimper as he forces your legs up and apart. Pressing your knees to either side of your chest. Exposing you to him.

When you don’t answer, his hand comes down. Hard, right on your aching parts. You yelp, words bubbling out of you. “I was gonna say don’t be mean! But— Then I remembered—“

“You want me to be mean.” He growls, low and deep. “Fucking greedy little thing. You’re never satiated, are you? Always whining and begging after me for more.”

His hand comes down again, the wet slick coating your thighs only making the sound worse. You jolt this time, blinking back prickles behind your eyes. You know he’s trying to get you to cry. But you’re not going to give it to him so easily.

Even if you really, really want to.

His fingers swipe along you, gathering up your slick and circling around your throbbing dick. You shudder at the pleasure, whimpering softly. It feels so good after the pain.

He pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking the slick from them. He groans softly, eyes darkening at the flavor. “You taste delicious. If you weren’t so damn bratty, I’d consider feasting on you. But you had to go and be a little bastard.”

His hands move to his belt, unbuckling it and letting his pants drop to his ankles. He steps out of them, stripping out of his boxers as well.

Your mouth waters. He’s already hard, so thick and long you can practically feel him in your guts already. You wanna suck him off so bad. Make him see you could be a good boy.

But the desire for him to fuck you is even stronger.

“Please, Logan,” you whisper.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

He smirks. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He lines himself up, leaning over you. He pins your hands down, gripping your wrists firmly in one hand. “I’m going to fuck the brat right out of you. And if it doesn’t work the first time, I’ll do it again and again until you’re too cockdumb to argue.”

The threat sends a thrill down your spine. You open your mouth to say something snarky, but he pushes in. Slowly working his cock deeper and deeper into you. Splitting you open.

Your words die on your tongue, replaced by a whiny moan. You clench hard around him, making him growl and dig the fingers of his free hand into your hip.

“That’s— fuck— much better.” He grunts, slowly rolling his hips to push his cock further into your leaking hole. “God, I love the sounds you make. So desperate and needy.”

“Fuck, ahhh! Logan!” You clasp your hands together, squeezing tightly as your body takes him. It feels like heaven; being split open until you feel like you can’t possibly take any more.

He finally bottoms out, allowing you a moment to adjust to his size. Then he pulls out and slams back in, making you arch and babble. He does this a few more times; slow, strong thrusts that split you apart and go so deep you swear his dick must be reaching your stomach.

Then he picks up the pace, and your mind turns to mush. You can’t think, can’t moan, can’t do anything but babble out cries of his name. You’re arching, writhing, squirming desperately to be able to hold onto him.

But he keeps your hands pinned firmly down. Speeding up until he’s fucking you roughly. Like you’re nothing but a thing for him to use.

“That’s my good fucking boy,” he snarls out. “Taking me so well.”

You can feel your orgasm mounting. Building and rising until you’re begging, pleading, and finally sobbing for him to let you cum. You know better than to cum without permission, especially when he’s all riled up like this.

“Cum for me, you little brat. Cum for me like a good boy.”

You clamp down on him, squeezing him as your orgasm hits. You arch and cry out, your vision going fuzzy.

A moment later, you relax into a puddle. Melting into the sheets as he continues to fuck you. Making you whine softly from the shocks of pleasure and warmth seeping through you.

With one last big thrust and a snarl of your name, Logan pulls out, cumming all over your dick and hole. He pants, releasing your wrists to drag a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

He sounds out of breath, but his eyes smolder with embers of heat. “You did good.”

You give him a lazy grin, stretching a bit. “Wanna clean me up? Or am I still too much of a brat for that?”

He huffs, a low growl in his tone. “Oh, I’ll clean you up alright. I’m making good on my promise. I’m fucking that attitude right on out of you.”

For a moment, you’re sure he has to be joking. You’re already weak from the strength of your first orgasm. He’s not really gonna make you go again, right?

But as he moves to lay between your legs, a couple things become clear. One, you’re in for a long, long night.

And two? He looks way too good between your legs.

[heich0e]

(part 2 of emperor!sukuna)

It's dark, and so terribly silent.

It's not the kind of quiet you find comfort in. No peace, or tranquility, in the stillness. The silence is tense, like a breath you hold until your lungs begin to burn. Like time itself has frozen.

Two red eyes watch you from the shadows.

Vicious. Hungry.

You wake with a start.

"Noble guest!"

Your head whips to the side, only to find the young handmaid who had been assigned to serve you kneeling at the edge of your bed. Her hair is tied, as ever, into two neat knots on either side of her head, but her endearingly lopsided fringe still hangs down over her worried eyes.

"Miwa," you breathe, and perhaps it might be in relief if you had the right to feel any. You lift a hand to your chest and feel the way your heart is racing under your ribs.

"Are you quite well, Mistress?" she asks you in concern.

Miwa is a young girl, no more than twelve if you had to guess and, though occasionally her manners fail her, she's dutiful in your care. You're fond of her in your own way. Grateful for a face in your chambers that doesn't mean you harm, or reproach.

"Yes," you say quietly. Barely a whisper and even less truth. "I'm well."

Your eyes sweep around your quarters, and suddenly you have a thought.

"What's the hour?" you ask her. It's night time, you're sure of it. Late if you were put upon to wager. "What brings you here so late?"

Miwa's eyes slip away, like she suddenly has trouble meeting yours.

"Miwa?" you ask again, more insistent this time.

The young girl fists her robe in her small hands, her head hanging slightly.

"It's the Crown Prince, Mistress."

Your chest feels tight.

"Yuuji?" You sit yourself further up in your bed, your sheet slipping down to pool in your lap. "Is he well? Has something happened?"

Miwa looks up at you with eyes that glisten in the soft light of the lanterns around your room, her lips pulled into a tight line.

"I know you and the Crown Prince have become good friends, Mistress," she says to you quietly, and you're surprised. You didn't know that anyone was aware of the little Prince's visits to your quarters. The girl's nose scrunches up. "Which is why it upsets me that the head of household forbid the staff from telling you."

"What's happened to him?" You feel panic in your veins, hot and quickly spreading, in the wake of her words.

"He's ill, Mistress. Fevered. The poor thing has not had the strength to leave his bed for some two days now."

You rip your blankets from your lap, throwing your legs over the side of your bed. You stand quickly, ignoring the way your blood rushes to your head and makes you feel dizzy.

Miwa stares up at you in shock from where she kneels at your feet.

"Come," you tell her firmly, extending your hand down towards her to help her up. "Take me to him."

Miwa knows her way through the Emperor's palace in a way so familiar that you could never hope to memorize the paths similarly yourself. You wonder how long she's been serving in the royal household to be so intimately familiar with every corridor, path, and passageway. She manages to take you all the way across the expansive property, from your own court to the one in which he Prince resides, without being seen by another living soul.

The two of you pause, pressed close together in a narrow passage covered by a tapestry.

"Will there be guards inside?" you ask her, keeping your voice low.

She shakes her head emphatically.

"The guards are outside the door. This is an entry that the servants in the Prince's household use. I assure you he's quite alone in there—his maids are away to take tea since he's resting, and the court physician has left him for the night."

You nod slightly.

"If I hear anyone coming, I'll fetch you," Miwa assures you, and you know she is sincere.

You lift the edge of the silk that covers your small hiding place, and step into the Crown Prince's quarters.

His room is not wholly dissimilar to your own—a realization that only makes you feel a little ill as you realize just how out of place you are in the place you've been confined. On the other side of the wide room is an elevated bed, and there in the centre lies the small form of the Prince.

His round cheeks, though always somewhat rosy, are flushed a violent scarlet with fever. His skin is pale and waxy, and is dewy with perspiration though his little nose is ice to touch. His chest rises and falls in shaky exhales, and his lips—parted as he gasps for breath—are dry and cracking.

Your heart rends at the sight of him.

"Miwa," you call quietly towards where you know the passageway to be. When you get no response you dare to repeat yourself a little louder. "Miwa."

Her head pops out from behind the fine silk weave.

You wave her over to where you kneel at Yuuji's bedside.

"Mistress, what is it?" she asks as she approaches.

You look down towards Yuuji, brushing some of his soft blush-coloured hair back from his sticky forehead.

"How long do we have before the maids return?" you ask her.

"They often take longer than they should," she says, rolling her lip between her teeth. "They bring wine to the guards outside and overindulge in their company. The head maid of the household often scolds them for it."

You feel a pang of resentment towards the women who fall short in their care for the little boy before you. You ache upon the realization of his neglect.

"I'll need hot water, and cloths."

"Pardon, Mistress?" she squeaks, watching as you roll up your sleeves.

"Hurry, Miwa," you brush off her effort to clarify, peering up at her with resolution in your eyes. "We haven't much time."

You scoop the small boy up into your arms, carrying him over to a nearby window. You open it as quietly as you can with him in your grasp, and then settle in on the floor as the cold night's breeze rushes in. Miwa appears soon with a basin of warm water and the cloths you requested, her eyes wide as she sees the way you cradle Yuuji in your arms, smoothing your hand along his back.

"Bring it here," you instruct her, and she does as you say. She sets the steaming basin before you, and the cloths just at its side.

You shift Yuuji in your arms.

"He needs the steam to help clear his lungs and break his fever," you tell her carefully leaning the sleeping child face-first above the basin. "Place a cool cloth to the back of his neck, and drape another overtop to trap in the vapours."

Miwa doesn't argue, quickly doing as she's told.

After some time passes, you remove the cloths and shift Yuuji towards the window, his head cradled in the crook of your arm like a babe.

"He needs the dry, cool air now," you tell Miwa as she watches you curiously.

"Mistress, you know a great deal on how to treat a fever," she remarks quietly, ringing out another cool cloth in case it's needed.

You hum, eyes glued to Yuuji's sleeping face. He's breathing a little easier now, his skin a bit less sallow. You dip your finger in the cool clean water and dab it lightly upon his lips to moisten them.

"I have three little brothers," you tell her quietly.

"Really?" she gasps in surprise. "I had no idea!"

Of course she didn't. No one in this land knows anything about you. At least not anything true. They know only what hateful rumours have been circulated through the court, and nothing of your person nor your character.

"Do you have any siblings, Miwa?" you ask her in turn.

"Two older sisters, Mistress," she replies.

"And are they too employed by the royal household?"

"They work at a teahouse just outside the palace, the nicest one in the city!" she says proudly. "They have many noble customers who they attend to."

You smile a little, though it's feeble. You know the kind of teahouses, and the kind of customers, she speaks of. You also know just what attending to them means.

"They must be proud to see their little sister working at the palace," you remark.

She huffs a little. "They still treat me like a child."

You laugh a little, reaching out with the hand not holding Yuuji and ruffling her fringe. "You are a child, Miwa. But there's no harm in that, nor is there any question of your capability in spite of it."

Miwa's cheeks flush pink and she looks away shyly, though undeniably pleased.

"In any case," you note, "my older brothers are the same as your sisters, though I'm long grown. I suspect that treatment never changes."

Her eyes go wide. "You have older brothers too?"

"There are six of us in total," you tell her. "The two eldest sons above me, and then three more who are not yet taller than yourself. The youngest is around the Prince's age, in fact."

You stare down at the six year old in your arms. He looks so much like his father, a man you've come to so deeply resent, but you're helpless to the affection you feel for the little boy. You find yourself holding him a little tighter without thinking.

"Thank you for bringing me here," you say to Miwa quietly.

"You've taken excellent care of his majesty," the maid replies. "He looks much improved in such a short time."

You're grateful that you helped care for so many brothers that you have the kinds of skills needed to help in a time like this. Though the muscle memory seems to ache all the same.

"Come," you pick up Yuuji and move to return him to his bed. "The Prince's maids will return soon, shut the window and remove any trace of our having been here. We should depart."

Miwa hastens to erase any lingering evidence of your presence in the Prince's quarters, and you tuck Yuuji carefully back into bed. As you draw his blanket up to his chin, the little boy stirs for the first time. His eyes, bleary and unfocused, search unseeingly as they open. As though too heavy for his weary body to muster the strength to lift, his eyelids flutter closed again soon. His hand, clammy and small, finds yours.

"Mama?" his little voice croaks, though you know he's unaware of what he's said—too far from the periphery of proper consciousness to even remember this moment when he wakes, you're sure.

You place your hand gently on his forehead, over his eyes.

"Sleep, Yuuji," you whisper to him, and his body slackens as he obeys.

You and Miwa depart soundlessly, the beautiful silk tapestry over the servants passage slipping back into place behind you as you take your leave. The way it swings is the only evidence left behind in your wake.

On the other side of the room, cloaked in the shadows away from the soft light of the lamps, a ruby-eyed stare narrows.

The emperor laughs, but there's no mirth in the sound.

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 2)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Warnings ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill ;)

Read Part 1 here.

Word count ─ 4K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

If you were told ten minutes ago that you’d be straddling Evan Peters, skin-on-skin in the driver’s seat of his car, grinding your soaked pussy against his solid rock hard-on while your tongues explore each other like it’s a competition until your lips get swollen, you’d be like, “Yeah, right, when pigs fly.”

But here you are, parked in some dark, secluded spot near the club you’ve just met. Your moans bounce off his car windows as he hungrily fondles handfuls of your body. You do love you some manhandling, truth be told.

You have your friends’ blessings about leaving with someone. Though, the chances of them believing you’ve pulled and bagged Evan Peters as your sneaky link for the night are slim to none, especially after you lecture Adria on the celebrities-normies combo being far-fetched. But it’s fair to say you didn’t choose the night with Evan Peters; the night with Evan Peters chose you.

His veiny hands on you and his gravelly voice against your ear trigger a muscle memory, recalling the heat you felt—but never vocalised—during Murphy’s close-ups on Evan’s hands in the Dahmer series and his viral ‘Relax, I just wanna take some pictures’ line. His baritone in that unsettling scene still gives you chills.

“Damn, miss...you’re something else,” he rasps out with a sly smile. You become his Roman Empire as he worships the sight of all of you on top of him, eyes devouring your entire body as you move gracefully, biting your bottom lip.

He groans deeply as his hands knead your tits and waist all the way down your thighs. With a cheeky squeeze of your ass, he draws you closer, a little squeal escaping you as his raging erection rubs harsher against your wet centre.

“I’m dying to fuck you,” he huffs after your lips meet again, his eyes imploring as he buckles his hips against yours. The friction sends your arousal flying. You just know he’s the type who promises to rail you until your guts rearrange and actually delivers. Better hold on tight.

With a coy grin, you reach down and caress his bulge straining under his jeans. “I can tell,” you whisper, your hot breath making him shudder as you mischievously trace his upper lip with your tongue.

Evan sucks in a sharp breath and bucks against your touch with a choked grunt. You can feel his length convulsing beneath you, your wetness still squishing against him.

“No...for real, Y/N. You’re insanely hot...and while I wanna bang your brains out right now, I don’t wanna objectify you. I respect you an—”

You cut him off mid-sentence with another steamy kiss. The urge to sit him in front of a mirror as he unravels his feminist, anti-alpha male stance, all while you jerk him off before riding the shit out of him, is stronger than ever.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart, Evan? So virtuous with your strong values and morals,” you praise his ‘golden-retriever’ and ‘husband material’ nature, delicately caressing his cheek. “But let’s cut to the chase—I’m here to hook up.”

With newfound energy, you attack his neck with eager kisses as you roll your hips against him more vigorously. Your fingertips roam over his sculpted Greek-God chest, travelling down to the contours of his divinely marbled abs.

Body is damn bodying.

You go on full “pick-me girl” mode as you purr, “I’m thirsty” and playfully toy with the buckle of his belt, hinting at your intentions. You can’t let that mound on his jeans go unnoticed; it’s practically screaming for your attention and attentive care.

He lets out a dark chuckle against the crook of your neck as he nibbles his way up to your jawline. “How can I quench your thirst?” he murmurs, now nipping at your pouty lips.

“You’re the best refreshment around,” you hush before swiftly shifting to the passenger seat and bending over, knees near your head and ass pointed skywards in a tantalising display he can’t resist.

You begin to pepper mouth-watering kisses along his chest, sliding down to his boner. Your tongue stumbles over the ridges of his abs as you venture lower, your moaning mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He cocks his head to the side with a knowing smirk, admiring the view that the curve of your ass provides, smacking it along the way.

With practised ease, you undo his jeans, palming the damp patch of pre-cum on his boxers. Glancing up at him with a crooked smile, you coo, “Eager, are we?” before sliding down his boxers.

His head lolls back, muffled moans escaping him as you swipe your tongue along the underside ridge of his hard, red-tipped cock. His breath rushes out in laboured, choppy huffs like his life depends on you. The way you take him deeper, double-fisting him, becomes his lifeline.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he manages to utter under his breath as he tenses in your grasp. You mewl softly around his cock, sending vibrations rippling through his body like shockwaves.

You’re insatiable, sucking him up from taint to balls, coating him in your saliva as you pump him harder in your mouth. Your swollen cunt is aching for him as you feel his head harden and twitch in your mouth with building pressure, forcing gagging moans out of you.

Gripping your hair in a messy ponytail, he watches intently as he fucks your mouth with increasing intensity. His free hand brushes along your clothed slit, his sturdy fingers running up and down your soaked panties. You gasp at the stimulus, clinging to the door handle for support.

“E-Evan,” you slur out as he applies more pressure on your throbbing heat, your words faltering as ragged breaths escape you.

“Yes?” He whispers, feigning innocence, though his arched brow and smirk betray his true intentions. He knows he can edge you with minimal effort, making you cum in his hands on the spot.

“Don’t stop,” you plead through your desire, your hips swaying in harmony with his rhythmic in-out motion.

“Keep sucking, baby girl. You drive me nuts, but I wanna see you multitask,” he challenges, no pun intended with his nuts reference.

As he tucks aside your lacy panties, he begins to circle your arousal, teasing your slopping folds. A low grunt slips off him as he feels how wet and ready you are for him. “Jeez, I need to take a dive in those Niagara Falls,” he chuckles and keeps fiddling around your throbbing clit.

Before you know it, he plunges two fingers in your begging entrance, eliciting a whimper from your lips that’s louder than you expect. The way he expertly curls his fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots, sends bolts of pleasure through your core.

Soon, the sound of your moans blends with the wet squelching of your pussy, echoing throughout the car.

The faster his fingers pop in and out, the louder you moan in delight as you suck his dick relentlessly. When his thumb joins in, smoothly rubbing against your clit with no mercy, your thighs begin to wobble.

His fingering inevitably loses momentum as he tightens his grip on your hair. You giggle quietly as you realise he’s about to hit his climax, his head striking against the back of your throat, causing your eyes to well up with tears.

“Fuuuck, I’m gonna burst, Y/N,” he growls, delivering a sharp slap to your ass. His fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your thighs, leaving faint red marks on them. He lets out the cutest, most contrasting sounds—something between a low groan and a high-pitched whimper—as his hips thrust harder each time.

With a wicked grin, you intensify your suction on his tip, sending him over the edge with a primal groan. His hot cum spurts into your mouth, filling it with its salty sweetness, before trickling down your chin. You eagerly lick his shaft clean and swallow his juices with greedy gulps, savouring his taste with a satisfied hum.

“Told you, you’ve freshened me up,” you chirp, playfully wiping him off your face. “You’re okay?” you ask with a bashful smile, reaching out to brush back the sweaty curls that have clung to his forehead.

He throws his head back, his chest still heaving with shallow pants as he stares at you with hooded eyes. “Damn, you’re good...I’m wrecked,” he breathes out.

Grinning lazily at you, he buries your face in his hands and grazes your cheeks with his thumbs.

“If you need a dopamine boost, I’ve got just the cure for you,” you coo and lean in close, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Oh, yeah? What’s the prescription, doc?” he teases, his eyes dark with lust as he bites his lip, his hands massaging your ass cheeks. It’s a silent prompt for you to climb back over him as his mouth desperately fumbles your skin.

You peer into his lustrous eyes with a sly smirk. “Sure, I can give you a ride, sir,” you purr, your fingers tracing tantalising patterns through his locks.

His grin widens as your sex alights on his crotch that’s twitching eagerly at the prospect. “I’m all for it,” he murmurs, pulling you close for another heated kiss.

His arms envelop you as you bend together towards the compartment by the passenger’s seat with shared anticipation. Your hands remain entwined around the back of his neck as you sprinkle kisses across his flushed face.

He delves into the container, rifling through its contents. “Shit,” he hisses, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Houston, we have a problem?” you ask, your voice deep with desire.

“Mission abort...out of condoms,” he admits, his eyes meeting yours with regret.

“Consider it solved, let’s head to mine.”

You fling open the door to your apartment, ushering Evan inside with a goofy grin. “Come on in and behold the fortress of fun!” you announce, gesturing grandly to the vibrant interior.

He giggles and steps inside, taking in the cosy yet funky vibe of your place. “Dang, this place’s dope,” he compliments, nodding approvingly at the eclectic mix of pop art and rococo décor.

You beam proudly. “Thanks! Gotta give props to my housemate, Mayra. She’s the mastermind behind all this coolness,” you explain as you lead him down the hall towards the living room, giving him a quick peek into your room.

“Ah, gotcha. She’s got skills,” Evan comments appreciatively as you both shuffle back to the living room, clearly digging the ambiance.

He scans the space more thoroughly this time before turning back to you. “Is your housemate around?” he inquires casually, hands in pockets.

You shake your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Nah, she’s living it up in NYC for work. Won’t be back for a while,” you reply with a shrug, not missing the mischievous shine in Evan’s eyes as he looks you up and down.

His gaze darkens slightly as he inches closer with a smug smile that grows with every step, pinning you against the wall next to a small table stand. “Just you and me, then, huh?” he murmurs, his voice coarse and velvety just like it turns you on.

You affirm him with a smirk. Your fingers tangle in the soft strands of his hair as he closes the distance between you with a soft kiss that rapidly turns into a full-blown makeout session. What begins as sensual brushstrokes—your lips caressing softly—soon morphs into a heated exchange, your tongues kicking off a seductive twirl.

With a breathy moan, you shed his jacket and tug at his shirt, balling it up with a scrunch as you press his chiselled body firmer against yours.

“I like your lips,” he rasps out between kisses, a broad smile etched on his lips.

“My horizontal or vertical lips?” you toss out nonchalantly with a smirk, seemingly unfazed by any potential consequences. As if that isn’t daring enough, your gaze pierces into his eyes, radiating a sexual intensity that tips him off the edge.

He reciprocates your challenge with a devilish grin, as it’s his turn to strip you off your jacket and dress. His gaze is hungry as he takes you in. “Let me do an audit down there first, assess the vertical ones, and I’ll come back to you,” he mumbles as he drags sensual kisses down your boobs.

You moan softly as he latches onto your perky nipples, giving them a tantalising pull that only worsens your wetness down there.

His mouth trails down your body and sucks onto your hip bones until it finally presses against the fabric of your thong, right on your clit. You instinctively arch your back and grip the edges of the table as he kisses and inhales against you with a hum of delight.

“Where’s my boy dinner?” he teases, staring up at you. He stretches your panties down and leaves a kiss on the peak of the mound between your legs, causing you to squirm in his firm hold.

You shoot him a sultry grin, your voice tinged with desire. “Where do you want it served?”

With a swift movement, he flips you over, offering deliciously tingling love bites on your ass cheeks. As he rises to his full height, his lips shower your neck with fervent kisses.

You instinctively rest your head onto his shoulders, granting him easier access, and you can’t help but moan lightly as you feel the firm press of his hardness against your lower back.

“You see that couch over there?” he coos. You’re quick to grab onto his belt and tug him over there without breaking the kiss. You both let out muffled moans and smile-kiss as Evan finds his leg ensnared in the folds of a blanket, miserably fighting to wiggle himself free.

You slump down on the couch together, him on top, and instantly dive into a deeper kiss. His groans fill your mouth, assaulting your senses. You playfully suck on the tip of his tongue as you feel his stiff cock on your stomach, eager to set free.

“I’ll lick my plate clean, I promise. I just want you to feed me,” he begs, flashing you an imploring look.

“How do you want it?”

“On my face...only for me to feast,” he grins, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss while groping around your thighs all the way up your tits.

Lying on your back, you watch as he stands beside you and slowly chucks your thong away. His eyes fixate on your slick sex with a mix of awe and hunger, his fingers itching to dig in and explore.

You spread your thighs wider, inviting him closer between your legs, hands on his chest. He positions his head under you, his warm breath tingling your skin. His mouth brushes along your inner thighs, leaving tender kisses as he moves closer to where you want him to be.

And then, without warning, he savagely stretches apart your dripping pussy and licks a long stripe along your slick folds, making you squeak with pleasure. Groaning with delight at your taste and the slimy texture, his lips begin to suck on your clit.

You gasp and instinctively clutch his biceps as his tongue starts to glide against your slit, forcing choked whines from deep within you.

“Fuck, I could eat you out all day long,” he moans against you, his hands gripping your ass tightly as his licking becomes harsher and more aggressive. Damn, even his voice alone can make you squirt in an instant. There’s nothing about him that can give you the ick.

Your mind goes all foggy as his nose lightly nuzzles your clit. His tongue tirelessly laps back and forth against your sobbing red pussy, twirling along your gummy walls. He lifts you up by the hips, his tongue sinking deeper each time as he pulls you down onto his face. You drop your head back, a string of moans spilling from your lips.

Your toxic trait is believing that this is just a hook-up, and you won’t catch any feelings. Even when you’re riding Evan Peters’ face, receiving head so good your coochie can explode.

Well, why toxic? E v a n P e t e r s has you seeing stars as he works his magic on your clit and jams his tongue inside you like there’s no tomorrow. And there may not be a tomorrow, so why not just enjoy him on you, next to you, under you, or in you while it lasts? He makes you feel like the hottest and luckiest chick on earth (sorry, fandom), that’s just straight facts.

Reconsidering, you set off a swirling dance on his face to keep up with his pace, your legs getting all quivery. The knot in your stomach stiffens as your high builds, hitting you like a train wreck.

“Evan, fucking hell... I’m finishiiing,” you almost scream shakily as you fight for breath, your vision getting hazy. Your legs involuntarily tense around his head, and your knees tremble, while small, punchy sobs slip off your lips.

You catch him staring at you, a triumphant smile spreading on his lips as you writhe and wriggle back and forth under him, the throes of your orgasm in full glory.

He draws comforting circles on your stomach and plants sweet pecks on your thighs, giving you space to catch your breath. Your hand cradles his face as your vagina keeps throbbing, making you giggle from the tingly sensation.

“I want more,” he cries out, his lips curving downwards in a mock frown as he presses a few more gentle kisses on your heat before you climb off his face, your steps unsteady.

“Then, make sure you tone down your clit game. Most men act like it doesn’t even exist,” you scoff as you throw shade, shooting him a teasing grin as you clean his chin from your juices and his saliva.

“How can you take away the tomato from tomato juice? Same goes for Evan and a woman’s climax when I eat pussy,” he retorts, flexing his muscles with an arrogant smirk.

You playfully roll your eyes, ready for a comeback. “Sorry to humble you, but for us ladies, it’s mostly a mental process. Too many tricks won’t cut it,” you counter, picking up your underwear from the floor.

He raises a sceptical brow and narrows his eyes at you, his tongue sliding against his side teeth. “Oh, really? Care to see my tactic and put that theory to the test?”

“Be my guest,” you smirk with a provocative flair, motioning towards your bedroom with a sweep of your arm.

He seizes your arm, pulling you close, and melds his lips with yours in a fiery kiss. As his tongue enters your mouth, you can still taste yourself on him, making your cunt pulsate for him tenfold. You’re so turned on that you’d fold no matter what he asks you to do.

“Challenge accepted, you’ve been warned,” he quips, wagging a finger at you before scooping you up his arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

There you are, sprawled out in the middle of your bed, all bare and irresistible, sensually touching your body as your eyes lock onto his.

His imposing figure looms over you as he unzips his jeans, instantly giving you heart palpitations. With a lustful half-smile, he tilts his head and lets his eyes linger at your legs, testing his rizz.

Realising he’s only zeroing in your glistening cunt, you deliberately part your legs, granting him a sneak peak into your “inner world” up to his appetite. “Here it is, baby Ev, all yours and ready,” you grumble, a bright grin stretching across his face as he observes your marvellous pussy.

Talk about a man who sticks to his promises! He said he’d take on your “inside work” while chatting you up at the bar, and here he comes, offering in-house service.

With ease, he sheaths himself in a condom, his gaze never leaving yours as he crouches down on you, propped up on his toned forearms (veins popping all over, goodness me). Pressed flush against you, he peppers eager kisses along your face, neck, and tits, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

“I wanna take good care of you,” he whispers, his hands travelling on your body.

Wrapping your legs around him, you let out a needy moan in a desperate attempt to get him inside. Your tongue pushes feverishly into his warm mouth, and he sucks on it gently, eliciting more soft whines from you.

He pulls away, tut-tutting softly against your lips. “Not yet, baby girl. First, tell me how much you want it.”

“Like mad,” you reply with a fervent nod. “And give it to me hard.”

With his throbbing length poised at your drenched entrance, a shared gasp brings smiles to your faces before turning into exhilarating groans. His eye contact never wavers, and from that missionary angle, he looks so Lana Del Rey “West Coast” coded, goddammit.

Your bodies mesh and merge together quicker than a click. Each thrust is a slow and agonising burn, as if he does it on purpose for you to beg him for more. You ache to explore every inch of him, but he just prolongs his torture by leaving only his tip nested inside you.

That’s until his gaze sears into your soul, and you feel him plunge back deep in with a force that sends you reeling, flooding you with ecstasy.

Your body jolts at the abrupt fullness, a raw wail of satisfaction ripping out of your lips as you dig your nails into his shoulder blades.

Taking the reins, he captures your hands above your head, lacing your fingers with his as he sets a relentless pace. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, and before you know it, the room reverberates the sound of skin slapping mingled with your mutual moans.

He releases one of your hands, fingers tracing patterns of comfort on your wrist as he slams in you faster and rougher. “Fuck, you feel amazing, Y/N,” he grunts hoarsely as he watches his cock disappearing into your dripping heat, a satisfied grin plastered on his lips.

Your body responds eagerly to his rough ministrations, hips rising to meet his with a desperate need to go harder. The rush of your pleasure overwhelms you as you yelp his name.

He meets your gaze with a cocky smile as his hand brushes along your lips, his hot breath a tempting tease on your face. Driven by your unhinged horny ass, you delicately snatch his ring finger into your mouth, licking and sucking on it as he grumbles joyfully, driving deeper into me.

“Evan...” you whimper, momentarily squeezing your eyes shut to handle his magnitude.

“You like it rough, baby girl?” he asks in a raspy tone, and his throaty chuckle rings in your ear, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.

“I do,” you gasp chokingly as you look up at him with imploring eyes. “Just right there.”

With a gleam in his eyes, he lifts your legs, draping them loose over his shoulders to penetrate even deeper. The slimy walls of your cunt grip onto his dick like they’re about to devour it, throwing him to the edge.

Your foreheads press together in a feverish intimacy as he pushes you closer to release. His hungry eyes fixate on the jingle of your boobs, his groans of delight mixing with the frantic rhythm of your heartbeats.

“Let me cum inside, Y/N, please. I need to feel you around me,” he begs, his voice strained with desire. His words hang heavy in the air, laden with raw desire as he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart race. Your lips meet in a fiery kiss, your tongues moving in sync.

Just as you’re about to cave, a sudden loud crash echoes from the hallway and shatters the air, causing both of you to freeze in place.

His eyes widen with alarm, mirroring your dread, and you instinctively cling to his arm for support.

Wide-eyed and tense, you exchange worried glances, his typically zen demeanour replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. “What was that?” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“I-I... I don’t know,” you stutter as you smooth out your hair.

A second loud thud breaks out, and it’s louder than the last, making your shrill in terror. Sensing your tremor and the urgency of the situation, Evan scoots closer to you and muffles any incoming outcry by gently covering your mouth with his hand.

“Shh.. easy... I’m with you, Y/N,” he mumbles, kissing the crown of your head. “Okay, let me throw on my clothes and go check. You stay here,” he instructs in a hushed tone, giving you a soft peck as he scrambles near him to pick up his scattered shirt and boxers.

Still nestled in his embrace, your grip tightens on his arm as he makes a move to stand up. “No, Evan,” you protest whisper-shouting. “Let’s go together.”

He hesitates and sighs in exasperation at your refusal to stay in safely. But, ultimately, he nods, his jaw set with determination.

You hastily slip into your satin robe, ready to face whatever danger lurks in the shadows. Hand in hand, you both venture cautiously into the dimly lit corridor as you stand behind him, your senses heightened in anticipation of what you might find.

The tension is palpable as you switch on more lights, illuminating your path as you dive deeper into the unknown.

After scouring every room, you return to the living room, puzzled. “There’s no one in, so we can rule out a break-in or th—” Evan’s words are cut short by a series of loud bangs resounding from the balcony, forcibly pulling your focus to the final frontier in your quest for answers.

“Promise me you’ll stay in. I got this,” he mumbles with a determined gaze. You nod silently with a bated breath, unable to utter a single syllable.

With resolve, he steps outside, the night air is thick with suspense as you watch him while biting your cuticles. Meanwhile, you pace nervously, your mind spiralling through disaster scenarios.

Suddenly, his voice pierces the silence as he calls out your name, giving you the jump scare.

“Evaaan?” you howl frantically as you sprint to the balcony, your heart racing and your hair whipping in the wind. 

Relief washes over you as you spot him pointing to a twisted chunk of neon metal lying on the ground, bathed in the moon’s glow. The gusty wind continues to slam the panel against the sliding door, confirming your suspicions.

You lean over the balcony, verifying that the fallen piece has flown from the drugstore sign banner next to your apartment—just a harmless casualty of the night. “I’ll drop it off for repairs tomorrow,” you mindlessly assure Evan as you share a chuckle that mixes nerves with relief.

His grip tightens around your waist as he suggests heading back inside. You both retreat indoors, leaving the metal piece by the balcony door.

“Water?” you offer, and he accepts with a grateful nod, his gaze softening in appreciation.

As you saunter to the kitchen together, you catch him checking you out as you bend over the counter and reach up on your tippy toes to grab a glass.

Just as you’re about to stride out of the room, your cleavage skimming his chest a bit too long, he swiftly corners you against the glass kitchen door.

“Where you think you’re sneaking off to?” he whispers, a smirk playing on his lips as his hands wander over your upper half.

Your eyes flicker across his face as you struggle to draw a breath, your heart pounding with anticipation. “Out?” you manage to squeak.

He inches closer, his voice dripping with suggestion, “We’ve got some unfinished business, don’t we?” he murmurs as his stubble grazes against your jaw, intensifying the pool between your thighs.

“Remind me?” you tease, your lips curving mischievously. You’re in your villain era; if not Evan Peters fucking you, why even bother?

He slides a hand under your loose robe and tenderly tweaks your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. A gasp escapes you at the sensation as his fingers find their way to your clit, setting off a relentless rub that brings a buzzing on your sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s like with each stroke, he’s hitting the pleasure jackpot.

Panting, you sway your hips to match his rhythm, lost in sensation. The play of his thumb on your clit drives you wild, leaving you craving more.

“Bring me a condom, and I’ll give you a reminder,” he chuckles, and in an erratic heartbeat, his lips crash onto yours, warm and demanding. You melt into the kiss as the room spins around you. He kisses you harshly, nearly biting you with a reckless passion, desire raging like a tempest.

With this move, things accelerate viciously. Gone is the playful banter; now it’s all primal need, Evan turning animalistic towards you. In a blur of motion, your body ends up pressed into the cold surface of the glass door; his hands firmly cupping your breasts from behind; his cock throbbing and pounding inside your slippery centre; raw horniness bursting forth through loud moans and grunts.

He’s so damn big, stretching your pussy to the point it stings. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he pulls out and jams back in you with primitive force. The door lock rattles incessantly as he pounds into you hard, his lips embellishing your soft skin with red, soon-to-be purple marks, his hot breath making you shiver.

He clings to you, his stomach against your lower back, hips still snapping into your soaked cunt. Together, you set a rhythm, rocking in and out with a measured tempo and sensual grace.

The pain blends divinely with euphoria in your body, leaving your mind foggy and dizzy as he continues to jab in and out of you despite your whimpers. His balls slap against your clit, making your climax hurtle towards you like a tidal wave. Salty tears of pleasure prickle at the corners of your eyes. “I’m close, Evan,” you yelp, your knees beginning to fail you.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he praises out of breath as he smacks your ass, kneading all the way down your clit. “Let go, give it to me,” he urges, punctuating his last word with a particularly deep thrust, jerking inside you and causing your screams to spill out.

Pleasure shoots you like an electric shock, and soon, liquid dribbles down your legs. As the tension in your lower belly finally cracks, you feel him buckle as well, his hips stuttering. Letting out a guttural groan, he gushes out inside of you, followed by small whines of your name.

You urgently ask him to peel the condom away and spill his cum all over your ass and back. Soon, white, sticky cum from both of you mingles and trickles around you until you become a leaky, sticky mess.

His arms band around your waist, your fingers intertwined, his smiling eyes drowning in yours.

“Fuck, what did you do to me, Y/N?” he sighs, and you both giggle, your sweaty lips meeting again in a passionate kiss.

After a mutual clean-up, you slide into a fresh nightgown and return to your room, only to find Evan rummaging under your bed, his firm backside an enticing sight.

“What are you looking for?” you ask, enjoying the view as you lean against the doorframe.

“My car keys,” he growls, his brows furrowed in concentration as he takes a glimpse behind the curtains. “Must’ve fallen out when I took my pants off,” he infers with a low and husky voice as he glances back at you.

You nod sympathetically, folding your bed throw neatly on the corner armchair. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he resumes his search, the tension between you growing thicker by the second.

“It’s late already. You can crash here tonight, and we’ll track down your stuff in the morning,” you suggest, settling onto the bed.

He looks up, relief sets on his handsome features as he creeps back towards you. “You sure?” he murmurs, his arms encircling your waist, his touch igniting sparks of arousal.

“Never been surer,” you breathe, leaning in for a kiss, unable to resist the pull between you.

But just as your lips meet, the jingle of keys shatter the moment, and you feel something sharp lightly nudging your lower waist. Pulling back, you shoot Evan a knowing smirk, your pulse racing with excitement.

With a nonchalant shrug and a wink, he tosses the keys onto the bedside table before pulling you under the covers and into a heated kiss.

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