#I don’t have enough room to set them out nicely on display

[were-all-idjits-here]

Accidental "I Love You"

Pairing: Sam Winchester x gender neutral reader Summary: While enlisting Sam's help to prank Dean, you may or may not blurt something out in the moment that seems to strike an unexpected chord with Sam. Warnings: some cussing; teeny, tiny bit of angst in that Sam and reader are two idiots who don't realize the other is in love with them. A/N: dipping my toe back into writing after some time off with this one. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

*

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam growled as the three of you returned to the motel room. He gestured for you to enter in front of him before slamming the door behind him and holding his hands out in a what the fuck gesture.

“Yeah, seriously,” you grumbled, taking your backpack—now full of loose Skittles thanks to the elder Winchester—towards one of the two beds in the room. “I don’t even like Skittles.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Dean said, just as irritated. “Look, I thought it was Sam’s backpack. It’s not my fault you two have the same one!”

You set your backpack down on Dean’s bed. “Mine’s blue!”

“Navy blue!” Dean corrected. “Sam’s is black, it looks…almost…the same.”

“No, it doesn’t!” you and Sam cry in unison. Although you were no stranger to watching the brothers’ prank war, they’d never targeted you. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t really a big deal; it wasn’t as if it was hot enough to melt the candy and create a sticky mess. But after that particular hunt, you just weren’t in the mood and appreciated Sam’s rage on your behalf.

Dean sighed. “Well, Y/N—I’m sorry. I was aiming for Sam and promise I’ll be more careful next time.”

You flopped down on the bed you and Sam had claimed. “Least you could do is buy us some grub.”

“If I go to that sandwich shop in town and get you a five-cheese grilled cheese, am I forgiven?”

“Only if you get the artichoke dip with it.”

“You got it. Sammy, I’ll get you…something much more boring, don’t worry.” With that, he fled from the room.

You sighed as the Impala’s engine growled to life outside, exchanging annoyed, drained glances with Sam as he sat down at the small, round table in the corner.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. “I can help you clean your bag out—”

“Nah.”  You stood and took the offending object from Dean’s bed. “Now that he’s gone, I’ve got a better idea.”  You ripped back the comforter (if it could be called that) off the bed before shoving back the top and fitted sheet, unzipping your backpack and upending it onto the mattress.

Sam laughed so hard, he scared you. You glanced over at him, smiling mischievously as you used your hands to spread the candy out more evenly.

“Well, here, at least get it across the whole bed in case he rolls.” Sam shot up out of his chair and tore the rest of the blankets and sheets off the mattress, helping you pour more Skittles until a fair amount covered the whole mattress.

You groaned as the two of you put the fitted sheet back on carefully over the minefield that was now Dean’s bed. “Oh god, the poor cleaning lady.”

Sam chuckled. “We’ve left behind worse messes, believe me—oh, actually…”

As you finished re-making the bed, Sam ran over to his backpack on the table and pulled out a whoopie cushion. He gave you a wicked grin as he grabbed the pillow off the side Dean usually slept on, stuffing it into the bottom of the case.

You cackled. “That’ll be right in his ear! He’s gonna go deaf!”

“Exactly.” Sam gave you a big, toothy grin and you couldn’t help but stare. He had such a nice smile that was so rarely on display, and you took pride in being one of the few to draw it out of him.

He stared back for a long moment before clearing his throat and putting his hands in his pockets. “You know this is gonna initiate you into the prank war now though, right? Dean won’t hold back.”

“Oh, I look forward to it.” You held out your hand across the bed. “We could be allies though and not tell Dean, really mess with his head. Truce?”

Sam smiled and shook your hand. “Truce.” He glanced back down at the bed. “You don’t happen to have any glue, do you?”

“Oh god, for what?”

He shrugged. “Could glue some Skittles to his stuff.” He joined you on your side of the bed to riffle through his duffle bag on the floor behind you. “Oh! I might have some superglue left from forever ago.”

“Do I even wanna know what you used that for?”

He pulled his bag up onto your shared bed and sat as he riffled through it. “We had a bit of a prank war a while back and I, uh…might’ve put super glue all over his beer bottle in a restaurant so he couldn’t put it back down.”

You threw your head back and laughed, giving Sam a playful shove to the shoulder. “Oh god, I love you.”

Sam’s head suddenly snapped up, the smile half-frozen on his face as he stared at you with a deer-in-the-headlights look. He gave you a breathy laugh before quickly returning his attention to his bag. “Uh…yeah, I—um…”

Your face fell. “Sam?”

“I’m okay,” he said a little too quickly before pulling a small tube out of one of his bag’s front pockets. “Ah, damn, it’s empty.”

Awkwardness still hung thick in the air, making you wonder if your joking I love you had revealed too much about how you actually felt. You suddenly felt a little dizzy at the thought of having just given yourself away only to have your and Sam’s friendship slowly start to crumble in the face of inevitable rejection. You two had always been close and even though the stares had been a little longer lately, if he felt the same about you, you would’ve known by now…right? And surely he wouldn’t have had that reaction just now.

You tried to hide the shakiness of your breath. “We’ll, uh…have to make sure we get more next time we’re at the store then.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you nervously before giving you a quick smile that disappeared in a hurry.

You hovered by him awkwardly for a few moments, trying to glance at him without catching his eye while he was suddenly very interested in the depths of his bag, empty superglue tube in hand.

“I’ll just—” he started.

“I’m gonna—”  you tried, beginning to move out of the aisle between beds towards the bathroom just as he stood up, bumping straight into you. With his speed and bulk, however, he almost knocked you over and quickly grabbed your forearms to stop you from tumbling back into the nightstand.

“Sorry!” he cried, finally meeting your gaze.

You had grabbed some of his shirt in your fists on instinct and for a moment, you stood transfixed again. Up close, his eyes really were pretty—they were so versatile: some days, they were a deep, dark brown that reminded you of chocolate and looked so warm and inviting, you wanted to just sink into him. Others, like today, flecks of green popped out in just the right lighting, reminding you of a sunflower field. You didn’t realize he was staring back at you with just as much intensity until his thumbs began rubbing gentle circles into your forearms.

You shook your head slightly to clear it. “I’m, ahem, gonna use the bathroom while it’s free.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! I—yeah!” He quickly let you go, stepping out of your way and gesturing for you to move first.

You quickly yanked a change of clothes out of your now clean bag before hurrying to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door and whatever had just happened away behind you.

Later that night, after you and Sam had already settled in bed, Dean finally emerged from the bathroom. Being on the side closest to his bed, you turned away to face Sam to hide your smile. You found him with his eyes open as well, biting his lip to avoid laughing.

Dean made a contented sigh as you heard the covers thrown back, followed by several cracking and popping noises, then the loud flbbbpppppttttt of the whoopie cushion. “Son of a bitch! Oh, god, ow—fuck—what the hell!”

You covered your mouth with your hand in a vain attempt to hide your laughs, seeing Sam do the same out of the corner of your eye.

“I know you two assholes are awake,” Dean grumbled before climbing back out of bed and checking under the fitted sheet. “Oh, this is war, Y/N.”

“Enjoy your Skittle bed, dickhead,” you said over your shoulder, pulling a loud guffaw from Sam.

“I��m sleeping on the damn couch,” Dean muttered before you heard him move across the room.

You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself, and tried to focus on evening out your breathing. After several minutes, right before you crossed the threshold of sleep, you could’ve sworn you felt warm fingers brushing your cheek.

[rotteneldritchhorror]

This is literally how my furby collection sits!

They’re all just having a little tea party ☕️

Tea time☕

[ivy-elle]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Part 1 ft. Scaramouche, Childe, Diluc, Xiao

Scaramouche

Jealousy?

Tsk. Please.

Don’t flatter yourself.

Do you really think someone like him would ever succumb to a pathetic sentiment such as “jealousy”?

If someone threatens to take what is his, that person simply ceases to exist.

There. Done.

Why would it ever bother him if you’ve found a new friend among his men?

He does not have time for such trivial matters.

He knows that person is not able to make you feel the way Scaramouche does. Not in the slightest.

What can they even offer you?

Time? Attention? A pathetic attempt at making you laugh?

Ridiculous

Just because Scaramouche hasn’t been able to be with you as much as he wanted to, doesn’t mean-

Now they’re pulling you into an embrace? The sheer audacity to do this with him in the room.

Are they truly that desperate?

No, while Scaramouche trusts you not to be foolish enough to embarrass yourself in that way, he has pride and a reputation to maintain.

And right now, his pride is flaming up.

He is seething.

He confronts them when they’re alone and makes things pretty clear.

Have they forgotten who he is?

“Oh, you really think you have a chance? How amusing. Know your place, or should I remind you of it again?.”

Childe

Oh, best believe this man here is protective af

Borderline possessive, even

Yet, he too, has enough faith in you not to taint the honour or your relationship in any way

So, he sometimes allows himself - for his own entertainment of course - to watch from afar as the guy puts his moves on you

Childe delights himself in the way you reject the guy’s antics in your own charming way

But when it becomes clear that the guy isn’t planning on backing off, Childe’s temper flares up, and he’d enrapture in the opportunity to put the dude in his place

Wouldn’t be above straight up making out with you then and there, just to prove his point

Would then proceed to look at the guy with a broad smile, an undeniable menace behind his eyes

“Hey there, comrade. 😄 Mind knocking it off a bit?”

Diluc

His jealousy is more often displayed as annoyance or irritation

But at the same time he maintains his stoic, yet dignified composure

Like during one of his shifts in Angel’s Share, if he notices someone flirting with you at the bar

He respects your independence, and recognises that you are capable of defending yourself and setting your own boundaries

However, that wouldn’t stop him from letting some passive-aggressiveness slip out

May it be if he places the ordered drink just a tad too loudly in front of the man, causing him to jump slightly

Or he might declare that their usual order is out of stock today, only to serve it to the next customer right in front of the man’s eyes

Yet, Diluc would keep a watchful eye on you, ready to intervene if you seemed uncomfortable or silently asking for his help

Xiao

With Xiao, jealousy takes shape in a less conventional manner

It’s neither hot, nor cold. It doesn’t burn, nor does it hurt

Not the way he wished it would at least

Rather when he spots you in merry company with a friend, a companion or a nice chat with a traveller from afar

He is greeted with a deep routed sense of guilt.

Not every time of course, but enough to cause a pit of self-hatred to add to his long list of faults in his character

Over the course of your time together, you have become quite attached to him, you loved him even

A concept he thought to have long forgotten

But your humans’ emotions are blinding you. Clearly. They have to.

While the world is out there, waiting for you to step out, calling your name

You choose to stay by his side

Instead of taking on the freedom he couldn’t gift you, you are now sitting next to him by the river

Your reflections watching him quietly with a smile

No amount of almond tofu you make, could fill the dull ache he feels in the back of his mind when you seem to be so blind to your opportunities, your chances, your life

Instead of staying in a cage he traps you in.

And yet, whenever you set out with your other companions you always return to him.

In the end, he will be the one keeping watch over your sleep in his bed, and you will be the one waiting for him at dusk

“This is no golden cage for me, Xiao. You are the one gifting me my wings.”

[rue-isabelle]

Author's note: This is a dark story!

Age is just a number (Part 3)

The sun was setting outside Carlos’s window, casting the room in warm orange hues. He sat on the edge of his couch, phone propped up in his hand, waiting for the familiar buzz of an incoming FaceTime call. It had become a ritual—Yn’s voice and face were the highlights of his evenings. Tonight was no exception. His heart skipped a beat as her name flashed on his screen.

He swiped to answer, and there she was, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, face glowing with excitement.

“Hi!” she greeted, her voice light and bubbly. “You ready for another round of my super interesting daily updates?”

Carlos chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “Always. Tell me everything.”

Yn tilted her tablet toward the camera, revealing a sleek pair of black ankle boots with silver embellishments. “So, first of all, I bought these amazing shoes. Aren’t they cute?”

“They’re beautiful,” Carlos said, though his eyes didn’t stray from her face. He couldn’t help but be captivated by her excitement.

“And,” Yn continued, moving the camera up to reveal a small haul of makeup items, “I finally got that lip gloss I told you about. The one that was sold out last time? Look, it’s so shiny.”

She swiped some on her lips, puckering at the camera with a playful smile. Carlos’s heart raced.

“Perfect,” he murmured, voice softer than he intended. “It suits you.”

Yn giggled, her cheeks flushing. “Okay, okay, enough of my shopping adventures. I also got some work done. Look!”

She switched her camera to show her tablet screen, where perfectly organized school notes were displayed in elegant handwriting, adorned with soft pastel highlights and little doodles in the margins.

“See? Aesthetic, right?” Yn asked proudly.

Carlos leaned closer to his phone, feigning serious study. “Wow. I didn’t know notes could look like art. You really do everything perfectly, don’t you?”

“Stop,” Yn said, brushing off the compliment, though her smile widened. “But yeah, I figured if I have to study, it might as well look nice.”

“I wish I had been that organized in school,” Carlos admitted with a laugh. “My notes were just scribbles. I think even I couldn’t read them half the time.”

Yn laughed, her whole face lighting up. Carlos stared for a second too long, completely mesmerized. She shifted the camera, now angled toward her outfit—a cute sweater and pleated skirt.

“I threw this on earlier, but wait until you see my pajamas!” She darted off-screen, returning moments later with a fluffy pastel pajama set covered in little cartoon clouds. “Aren’t they adorable?”

Carlos couldn’t hide his grin. “Muy adorable. But you could wear anything and still look beautiful.”

Yn rolled her eyes playfully, though her blush deepened. “You’re too sweet. But enough about me—what about you? What have you been up to today?”

Carlos leaned back, shifting the phone in his hands. “Not much,” he said vaguely. “You know, just the usual. Some workouts in the morning, then I spent the afternoon planning a little holiday.”

“A holiday? That sounds fun! Where are you going?” Yn asked, her eyes lighting up with interest.

“I was thinking about somewhere warm. Maybe a beach,” Carlos replied, keeping the specifics vague. “I like to stay active even on holidays—some hiking, swimming, things like that. And then there’s the food. I’m all about finding the best local spots to eat.”

“That sounds amazing,” Yn said wistfully. “I wish I could go on a holiday like that. But it’s not like my parents would ever take me. They’re always so busy.”

Carlos’s brow furrowed. “They travel a lot for work, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Yn sighed. “They’re never home. It’s just me most of the time. Which is fine, I guess—I’m used to it. But still, it would be nice to have someone around, you know?”

Carlos’s chest tightened at the hint of loneliness in her voice. He had been thinking about it for days, but now felt like the right time to bring it up.

“Yn,” he said carefully, his tone soft but serious. “What if I came to visit you?”

Yn’s eyes widened. “You mean… here? Like, in person?”

“Sí,” Carlos said, his lips curving into a small smile. “I want to see you. For real this time. We’ve been talking so much, but I feel like I need to meet you in person. Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Yn’s smile grew impossibly wide. “Are you kidding? I’d love that! My parents are never around, so we’d have the house to ourselves. I can finally show you my favorite spots in town.”

Carlos felt a wave of relief wash over him at her enthusiastic response. “Perfect. I’ll arrange everything. Just say the word, and I’ll be there.”

“Word,” Yn said with a grin, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Carlos laughed. “Alright. Let me figure out the details, and I’ll let you know when I can come. It won’t be long, I promise.”

“You’d really do this?” Yn asked, her voice tinged with wonder.

“For you? Of course,” Carlos said softly. “I’ve been wanting this for a while, Yn. I can’t wait to see you.”

Yn’s cheeks flushed again, her smile never fading. “Me neither.”

As they continued talking, planning out the logistics of their meeting, Carlos couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. He knew this wasn’t a typical situation, but something about Yn felt special—different. And he was willing to do whatever it took to make their connection even stronger.

-------

The next day, Carlos arrived at Yn’s house just as the morning sun cast a golden glow over the quiet neighborhood. Yn stood at her front door, dressed in a simple sundress that flowed with the breeze, her long hair catching the light. Her heart raced as she watched him step out of his car, wearing a casual button-up shirt and jeans that somehow made him look effortlessly perfect.

When their eyes met, Carlos smiled warmly, striding up to her with an ease that made her knees feel weak. Before she could say a word, he wrapped her in a gentle hug, his arms strong yet comforting, his cologne surrounding her in the most intoxicating way.

“Hola, hermosa,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Hi,” Yn whispered, her cheeks flushed. “You’re really here.”

Carlos chuckled. “Of course I am. I told you I’d come.”

She beamed, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. “Come on, I have so much to show you!”

Her excitement was infectious, and Carlos followed her through the house as she gave him a tour. She showed him the cozy living room where she watched movies, the kitchen where she often experimented with baking, and finally, her bedroom.

“This is it!” Yn announced, throwing the door open dramatically.

Carlos stepped inside, taking in the soft pastel tones, the neatly made bed, and the little trinkets and photos scattered around. It was so perfectly her—sweet, bright, and full of personality.

“It’s beautiful,” Carlos said, smiling as he glanced at the fairy lights strung along the walls. “Just like you.”

Yn blushed, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “Stop flattering me. It’s not that special.”

“It is,” Carlos insisted, his gaze soft as he looked around. “You can tell a lot about someone by their room. Yours is cozy, warm… it feels like home.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. She pointed to her bookshelf. “Okay, but this is my favorite part—my little library.”

Carlos walked over, brushing his fingers along the spines of her books. “You read a lot.”

“I love it,” she said with a shy smile. “It’s my escape.”

He turned to her, his expression tender. “I can see that. It suits you.”

After the tour, they headed to the kitchen, where Carlos suggested they cook together. “I’ll teach you how to make perfect spaghetti Bolognese,” he offered, rolling up his sleeves.

Yn lit up. “I’d love that! But fair warning—I’m not the best cook.”

“Don’t worry, mi reina,” Carlos teased, “I’ll guide you.”

As they started, Carlos positioned himself behind her, his larger frame enveloping her smaller one. His hands gently covered hers as he showed her how to chop the onions and garlic.

“Like this,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Yn’s cheeks burned as she concentrated, his proximity making her heart race. “Am I doing it right?”

“Perfect,” Carlos said softly, his voice filled with pride.

When it was time to stir the sauce, he guided her hands again, standing so close that she could feel his chest against her back. Once she got the motion right, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

“You’re a natural,” he praised, his lips brushing her temple in a soft kiss.

Yn felt herself melt into his embrace, her body relaxing against his. “It’s because you’re a good teacher,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the bubbling sauce.

Carlos couldn’t help but smile. He was obsessed with their height difference—the way she fit so perfectly in his arms, her head just below his chin. It made him want to hold her forever.

As if reading his mind, Yn turned her head slightly to look up at him, their faces suddenly inches apart. Her breath hitched as their eyes met, the air between them thick with unspoken emotions.

“Carlos…” she murmured, her gaze flickering to his lips.

“Yn…” he whispered back, his voice low and filled with longing.

Slowly, they began to lean in, their lips just a breath away from touching. But before they could kiss, a loud hiss broke the moment—the water from the pasta pan was boiling over, spilling onto the stove.

“Oh no!” Yn exclaimed, breaking away from Carlos to grab the pot.

Carlos groaned in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “The timing!”

Yn giggled as she turned off the burner, her cheeks still flushed from their almost-kiss. “Maybe it’s a sign we should focus on cooking before we burn the kitchen down.”

Carlos laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe. But next time, no distractions.”

Yn felt her heart flutter at the promise in his words, and as they finished cooking together, she couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something even more magical.

--------

After finishing their dinner, Carlos and Yn moved to the living room. The soft glow of the TV illuminated the room as Yn scrolled through the movie options on the streaming platform. She was curled up on the couch, her knees tucked under her as she scanned titles, while Carlos lounged beside her, his long legs stretched out and his arm resting casually along the back of the couch.

“How about this one?” Yn asked, glancing over her shoulder to show him the screen.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “A romantic comedy? Again?”

Yn pouted, her lips forming a small, exaggerated frown. “It’s my favorite genre! Please?”

Carlos sighed dramatically, pretending to be reluctant. “Fine, fine. I can suffer through one more,” he teased, though his smile betrayed him.

Yn grinned triumphantly and pressed play. As the movie began, she settled beside him, leaning just slightly into his side. Over the next hour, their positions gradually shifted. First, Carlos’s arm slid lower, resting on her shoulder. Then Yn tucked herself closer, resting her head against his chest. By the time the credits started rolling, she was lying completely on top of him, her small frame fitting perfectly against his.

Carlos’s arms wrapped securely around her, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head. He could feel her breathing, slow and steady, and the warmth of her body against his sent a wave of contentment through him.

“Comfortable?” he asked softly, his voice teasing but warm.

Yn tilted her head up to look at him, her cheek pressed against his chest. “Very.”

Carlos smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re going to fall asleep on me like this.”

“Maybe that’s the plan,” Yn replied with a sleepy giggle.

He chuckled, holding her a little tighter. “You’re impossible.”

As the room fell quiet, Yn let out a small sigh. “We should probably go to sleep.”

Carlos hesitated, not wanting to let go of her just yet. “You mean I should go sleep on the couch?”

Yn sat up slightly, looking at him with an expression that was equal parts amused and bashful. “No, I meant we should go to my room.”

Carlos blinked, taken aback. “Your room?”

Yn nodded, standing and grabbing his hand. “Come on.”

Still surprised, Carlos let her lead him down the hallway to her bedroom. The pastel hues and soft fairy lights he’d admired earlier felt even cozier now. Yn turned to him, her cheeks slightly pink.

“You can sleep here with me,” she said shyly, motioning to the bed.

Carlos tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

She laughed softly, brushing past him to climb onto the bed. “Just don’t hog the blankets, okay?”

Carlos kicked off his shoes and joined her, lying down on his side. Yn turned off the lights, plunging the room into a gentle dimness illuminated only by the soft glow of her fairy lights. The bed dipped slightly as Yn slid closer, curling into his side.

Without thinking, Carlos pulled her into his arms, his larger frame easily enveloping her. Yn relaxed against him, her head nestled under his chin as he became the big spoon.

“This okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.

Yn hummed in response, her fingers lightly gripping his arm around her waist. “Perfect,” she whispered.

Carlos smiled, his heart swelling. His hand moved to her waist, stroking gently, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her pajamas. Every little movement she made, from her breathing to the way she shifted slightly to get more comfortable, made his chest tighten with affection.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her neck.

Yn shivered slightly under his touch but didn’t pull away. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, her voice tinged with sleepiness.

Carlos chuckled, his lips brushing her ear. “You know, mi pequeña,” he began, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I could stay like this forever. Just holding you.”

Yn smiled, her fingers gently brushing his arm. “I like being in your arms. It feels… safe.”

Hearing her say that made Carlos’s heart ache in the best way. He kissed her neck again, his lips lingering this time as he whispered sweet nothings in Spanish.

“Eres mi todo,” he murmured. “Mi hermosa estrella.” (You’re my everything. My beautiful star.)

Yn let out a soft sigh, her breathing evening out as she drifted off to sleep. Carlos stayed awake, his hand still lightly stroking her waist. He couldn’t help but admire her—the way her face looked so peaceful, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the way she trusted him so completely.

As his thoughts wandered, doubts began to creep in. What would the guys think if they saw him now? If they knew about Yn?

Lando’s voice popped into his head, sharp and serious. “Mate, are you insane? She’s 18! This isn’t like you. You are acting like a fucking pervert.”

And Charles, always the moral compass, would be even more dramatic. “Carlos, what are you doing? Have you lost your mind? This is—this is crazy! She is younger than your sister. Fuck she is younger than the youngest drivers on the grid. Have you lost your mind?!”

Carlos groaned quietly to himself, shaking his head. He knew they’d judge him. They’d be shocked, maybe even disgusted. He wasn’t sure how he’d explain it to them—or if he even could.

But then Yn shifted in her sleep, her small hand clutching his shirt, her body pressing closer to his as if seeking his warmth.

In that moment, all his doubts vanished. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. Yn was here, in his arms, trusting him completely. That was all that mattered.

“Te quiero mucho,” he whispered into her hair, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “I’ll protect you. Always.”

And with that, Carlos closed his eyes, letting himself drift off, his heart full of peace.

[bookshelf-dust]

you have hearts for eyes

sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 5,451

warnings: minimal swearing, kind of modern!au, reader has insecurities about being inexperienced, very slight suggestive material, fluff/comfort

a/n: hello! i’ve been working on this fic for what feels like forever, and i am so happy to be done with it and to share it with you. i know my audience for sirius is a bit smaller, but i’m hoping some of you will appreciate and enjoy it and maybe find something in it. it means a lot to me and writing it definitely helped me work through some of my own struggles. please let me know what you think!! i love you so much. happy reading <333

————

Sirius’ apartment is really quite sweet. The walls are dark and draped with tapestries, ones you would never know where to find. Someplace you’re unfamiliar with, surely.

Of course you know it wouldn’t be nearly this nice without all of Remus’ help. Sirius thinks choosing to live across the hall from one another was the best decision they ever made. He had wanted to share a place with both Remus and James, but that was before Lily snatched him away.  

The couch is a deep wine color, the cushions bearing imprints from all the hands and backs and bottoms that have embraced them. He’s cracked the living room windows open, allowing the spring air to seep in.

He’s been pacing back and forth from the window where he’d be able to see your car pull up, and looking out the peephole on his front door. He pulls it open just as you’ve raised your hand to knock (despite having a key), making you jump. A boyish grin spreads across his face as he drags his eyes down your figure. 

“Well, Christ, don’t you look gorgeous.”

You feel the tips of your ears burn. One of your hands flies to rest on your lower belly. You put on a dress today; a lovely, long sundress you purchased in a short-lived moment of bravery, one you’ve never worn around him. Actually, you’ve never worn a dress around Sirius, period. Skirts, sure. But he has never seen you in something like this.

“Oh, quit that,” you mutter, dipping under his arm to enter his home. 

He turns around to watch you walk in as he pushes the door shut. “I will not.” He takes your bag from your shoulder, setting it on a stool just under the kitchen island. “Do a spin for me, love. That color looks so perfect on you.”

You oblige, letting yourself have this one moment where you lean into his flirting. His eyes follow the curve of your waist, the dress hugging it so gently where you’ve tied the strings around your back. The way the fabric drapes down your spine and is light enough that he can see each move you make, each effortless shift of your limbs. He has to be careful not to let his jaw fall open.

You complete your turn, stomach flipping at the look on his face. You scramble for something to say, to hide the way he’s flustered you.

“Okay, okay. No need to pretend to ogle anymore. All I did was put on regular people clothes.”

Sirius’ brows knit together. Pretend? Do you think he’s doing this just to flatter you? Just because he’s a naturally flirty man? He wants to toss you over his shoulder and show you how perfect you are. He crosses his arms.

“No pretending here, love. You do look stunning in that little number and I feel blessed that you have graced me with your presence while wearing it.” He shoots a wink in your direction. 

You run a hand over your collarbone and twist to plant yourself on his couch. He follows you, tucking himself into your side, his thigh pressed to yours. You can feel his gaze on you. 

“You’re terrible at taking compliments, you know that?” He gingerly takes your hand away from where it’s scratching at your neck and keeps it in his, subconsciously tracing the lines embedded in your palm. 

Your eyes fall on his fingers, watching the way his rings glint in the fading sunlight. “I did know that, yes.”

“Give me a compliment then,” he says, attempting to display how one can accept a compliment. Part of him knows he’ll go red once you give him that attention. 

You look at him, your mind swirling with every sweet thing you’ve ever wanted to say to him but kept to yourself because all this flirting doesn’t leave you as easily as it does him. 

“Your hair looks very pretty,” you let out, softly. A smile wide enough to expose his dimples spreads across his face. 

“Does it?” He gives his head a shake, the dog-like movement making you laugh. “I haven’t brushed it today.”

You tuck a strand behind his ear. “Would you like me to do it for you? I could braid it for you after so it won’t get tangled tonight.” 

That gesture comes from you so naturally that it makes Sirius swoon. You want to do that simply for his convenience and because it might make things a bit better on him. And he’ll be damned if the thought of your fingers touching his scalp and your nails on his neck doesn’t sound like the best thing since…well he hasn’t got a reference for that. But you’re often so shy when it comes to physical affection, and this just might make his entire life.  

This pool of thoughts must be showing on his face, because you suddenly look very flustered. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had hearts in his eyes to replace his pupils.

“I’d love it if you did. You really don’t mind?” he asks, already shifting to sit on the floor in front of you, trying not to make you feel too nervous because he knows you’re branching out just based on your actions since you arrived. 

“Nope. I love to braid hair,” you say, feeling a chill run down your spine seeing him settled between your legs like this, feeling the warmth of him through your dress and being able to really look at him—even if it’s just the backside of him—without feeling so shy.

Sirius grins to himself. He’s realized that you do keep a lot of things to yourself, and though he likes to think he’s cracked away at a bit of your shell in the time he’s known you, there is still so much he doesn’t know. 

“Did you know that Remus can braid?” he asks you, closing his eyes at the feel of your pinky fingernail parting his hair down the middle. 

You giggle. He could get drunk off that sound, and he knows so. It leaves him dazed. “Can he?”

“Apparently so. His mum taught him and used to have him do her hair because he was better at it than she was.”

“Well, that’s sweet. I should have him do mine. Test his skills. How’d you find out he could do it?”

Sirius lets out a breath of a laugh, “He did mine for a Quidditch match once. Mcgonagall used to fuss that I’d rip all my hair out if I didn’t contain it.”

You’re braiding his hair very slowly, much slower than you’d do yours or anyone else’s. His hair is so soft, and much thicker than you had realized. It’s got a wave to it, one you think you would be a bit more defined if he put some product in it. You’re enjoying the feel of it in your hands, the heat of his scalp against your skin. 

You’re losing yourself in it so much that you almost miss his words.

“I bet you guys had a lot of fun playing together,” you say, knowing that kind of bond must be one of the best things in the world. You tuck the strands of hair at the base of his neck in so they don’t droop when you’re finished.

Sirius wraps a hand around your ankle, and your eyes widen. 

“I wish we’d been friends then,” he tells you. Your nervous system is sent into overdrive, trying to adapt to such a casually intimate touch and the fact that he’s dwelling on the past. 

You tie off the end of one braid and start on the other. You exhale through your nose. “I don’t think we could’ve been.”

Sirius’ eyes open at this. He fights the urge to spin around and face you, but knows you’re concentrating, and he has the feeling that not staring at you directly is why you’re suddenly being so open with him. 

“Why?” he asks. Why couldn’t you have been? He’s always been friendly. Sure, he was much more rowdy in school, but he never would’ve tried to intimidate you. 

“We ran in different circles, you know? I certainly knew who you and the boys were, but everyone did.” Sirius’ brows furrow as he listens more intently than he knew he was capable of. “Though no one really knew who I was, except for my professors, of course. I was even more shy and reserved then, if you can believe that. I never really fit in, and I never found my people.”

“I sort of just…observed everyone. I did my best in class and tried to be social, but nothing ever stuck. I think there’s only one person I keep in touch with from Herbology. I learned at some point that I was going to be alone, and I might as well make the best of it.”

“So I guess what I’m saying is that we couldn’t have been because I’m not sure you ever would’ve seen me.”

The silence that follows your last few words is deafening, and all you hear is the sound of your blood rushing in your ears and your nails scratching against his hair as you finish the other braid. 

When he feels the tie rest against his neck, he forces the words up from where they’ve been sitting in his throat. “Love, I…”

He turns around so quickly you think he might’ve given himself whiplash. He’s giving you puppy dog eyes, and you hate that he’s feeling sappy over you and your pitiful school experience—or lack thereof. 

“Weren’t you lonely?” he questions, resting his hands on your knees. 

You start to fidget with one of your rings. “Of course I was. I know for lots being at Hogwarts are some of the best years of your life. But mine were very hard. I was extremely lonely, but I just learned how to be my own friend and do things that made me happy.”

“Plus I made great relationships with the professors, which helped me in getting a real job. And if that hadn’t happened���I’d never have really met you. Don’t feel bad for me, okay? It’s no big deal.”

Your words are followed by a poignant pause.

So much starts to click for Sirius, and all it does is break his heart. You give him a shy smile, and fuck, you’re absolutely right. He can’t remember what you looked like then, doesn’t remember seeing you in any of his courses. And he knows you’re a badass, but thinking about how he always had a circle, people he’d trust with his life and go to when he needed them, compared to how you were completely alone…that hurts. You deserve to be loved, praised, shown off to the world. You’re only a bit more outgoing now, and he knows much of that is owed to him and James. Remus is your introverted confidant. 

Sirius stands up and moves to sit next to you on the couch. 

“How could I not feel bad for you? Love, you’ve grown so accustomed to being alone that you don’t think it’s a big deal—not having a circle. You’ve accepted it, and I hate that you have felt so alone for so long.”

“Sirius, really, it’s—”

“Can I ask you something?” He blurts out the words, causing you to blink a bit. 

“You just did.”

“Please?” 

“Yes.”

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

Oh. That’s not where you were expecting this conversation to go. And this is one of the most embarrassing things to talk about. Especially with him, because you know he’s experienced. You’ve heard the stories.

Sirius takes your silence as encouragement to continue, scrambling to explain why he’d ask this. 

“Obviously you’ve been around us, you know James and Lily and—whatever, you know. And we sometimes talk about relationships or escapades and you always retreat when that happens. Is that…is that why?”

You swallow, ignoring the slight pressure behind your eyes. Fuck, this is embarrassing. Especially at your age, and knowing you’re behind everyone you know. It is hard to hear them talk about relationships or hookups. Most definitely when it’s Sirius. 

“No. I’ve never had a boyfriend.” 

Sirius blinks. He can’t understand how any guy could look at you and not want you all to themselves. That’s what he wants. 

“I’ve never even held hands romantically, Sirius. Isn’t that pathetic?” You feel the need to make sure he knows you realize how pitiful it truly is. 

Alarm bells ring in his head. 

“Darling, no. It’s not pathetic.” He searches your face, noticing the way you’re retreating from him. “Look at me, please?” He tracks your smile lines, each freckle or mark on your skin until you meet his eyes. His own brighten at your willingness to listen. “There she is.” 

Something about those words shoot straight to your stomach, butterflies smacking against your insides, begging to be let out. 

“Why do you think that’s pathetic, love?” He’s asking you seriously. That bitter voice, the one you’ve shoved deep inside the back of your mind, claws its way forward. It must be easy to think it’s not pathetic when you’re so experienced. Because you haven’t met the ache that comes from lacking what others have. You shake your head. 

“Because it is, Sirius.” He opens his mouth, but figures this isn’t the time to bicker. His jaw falls shut just as quickly. “I am twenty-two years old, and I have never had any romantic interactions, despite the fact that I have been desperate for one for years.” He knows you’re really letting your emotions fly when you begin to talk with your hands.

“It is so gut-wrenching sometimes to see people be so happy in their relationships. It’s hard for me to listen to our discussions when they delve into each of your experiences, because it tugs on my insecurities, and I try my best to hide it, but it does hurt.”

“Truthfully, I’m at a point where not only am I ashamed of all of this, but I’m afraid that a kiss, or a hug, or anything—that I just won’t feel anything. That maybe I will never understand what affection or love feels like and it’ll always be something I imagine. And my imagination only goes so far. There’s such a disconnect, and I can’t feel those things.” 

You rub at your temples. “So that’s why. I’m behind everyone else my age, and I wish I wasn’t.”

That little bit of anger you’ve worked so hard to suppress bubbles up in your chest. You worry he’ll say something that pushes it out, that he’ll give you that same spiel everyone else does—

“I could try and help you with your romantic interactions.” 

Your breath catches. Sirius’ gray eyes bore into yours. 

“But I’ll have you know,” he continues, “that I understand how you think you’re behind, especially with the stupid shit we talk about, and I don’t think it matters. You’re on a different path than I’ve been, but it’s not as though you’ll never do those things. Frankly, I can’t see why no one’s jumped your bones to date.”

Your nervous system feels so confused. At once you’re fighting that bout of frustration, and feeling your heart pick up at the idea of this actually being a possibility. 

“Did I braid your hair too tight?” you mutter. 

Sirius laughs, tossing his head back to reveal a glorious neck. “No, love.” He places a hand on your knee. “Now, be genuine when you answer this for me, alright?” He waits for your nod and then leans in close enough that you can feel his breath on your collar bones. 

“Is it really that difficult to see how enamored I am with you?”

Huh?

Sirius laughs again. Shit, did you say that out loud? 

“You did say that out loud.”

You slap your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you rush out, “that was supposed to stay in my head.” But all of the small things he’s done, all of the romantic things—cooking you dinner, helping you zip your dresses, buying you jewelry, even just making you feel seen—come rushing to the forefront of your mind. Perhaps you didn’t want to believe it. Or maybe you couldn’t believe someone would feel romantically about you and decided to block out any of his loving gestures.

He’s staring straight into your eyes, and it’s like he’s cast a spell on you, because you feel like you could spill your guts right then and there. And maybe it’s best you do. 

“I think maybe I’ve just convinced myself you’re sweet to everyone? That you’re a loverboy at heart and so it hasn’t meant anything more for you to be sweet to me.”

“Sweet on you,” he says. 

You blink.

“I am sweet on you, love. While I won’t deny that I am a flirt at heart and do my best to charm most anyone, I have dedicated my time to you as of late. Truth be told, I'd quite like to be your loverboy.” He pauses, looking over your face, a grin spreading across his. “But I suppose your inexperience explains why you’ve been so oblivious.” He’s made himself laugh now. 

You lean forward and smack him on the bicep, and even though it is a firm hit, there’s no malice in it, especially with that smile on your face. He’s not wrong at all—you have been oblivious. 

Sirius falls back dramatically onto the couch, feigning severe pain. “Fuck, you’ve wounded me.”

You roll your eyes, watching how he clutches his arm and gasps for air. His braids are splayed out, his cheeks a shade of rosy pink. He looks so…gorgeous. You’re in awe of him. It’s like when you stare at the statue of David, just completely entranced by how beautiful this man made of marble is. That’s how looking at Sirius feels. Taking in something so soft and knowing it should be handled with care. 

You hold out your hands, wiggling your fingers. “Alright, come on. You’ll recover.”

Sirius grabs hold of you, allowing you to hoist him up. When you do, you could easily touch noses. There’s a new tension in the room, one you’re sure anyone would be able to feel if there were more people there. 

You look down when you realize Sirius hasn’t let go of your hands. “So, what do you say?” he asks, bringing your attention back to his face.

Say something, you tell yourself. You’re just staring at each other, and you’ve got to speak. Your heart is pounding, rattling your rib cage. You want to have all of these experiences, you really do, but it’s also so terrifying to think about the vulnerability that comes with them. Though…it’s Sirius. And if you’re being truly honest, you’ve always wished it’d be him. That he’d look at you…the way he is now.

“I—I’d really like that. If you’d really like to deal with my clumsiness and all.” You give him a shy smile, and suddenly he’s threading his fingers with yours. He raises his hands, forcing you to do the same. Your fingers are intertwined, his hand engulfing yours, which is undoubtedly much smaller. 

You’re holding hands.

“Look, love. Now you’ve held hands romantically.” He laughs a little at the look on your face, one he’s sure is a result of the awe you’re in. You’ve never done this before. It feels so nice to have his hands in yours. They’re so warm, and sparks are shooting up your wrists. You feel giddy. 

You bite your lip in an effort to suppress the excitement that is practically begging to come out. He sees it though. “Is this making you happy, darling?” he asks. You nod enthusiastically, your ears burning. “Perfect. And about what you said, I did warn you that I was head over heels for you, so I might be so weak in the knees that I’ll be clumsy too.” He winks.

You squeeze his fingers experimentally. A little nervously. “You’re sure you want to do all this with me?”

Sirius squeezes back, his thumbs rubbing over your skin. “Of course I am. You trust me, don’t you?” He already knows the answer to that, but how could he not make sure that you feel safe with him?

“Always,” you say. 

“Good.” He glances down at your clasped fingers. “Wanna keep holding hands? It’s rather nice, isn’t it?”

You giggle, and he swears his insides turn to jelly at how sweet the sound is. “I think I’ve been spoiled now,” you say. “I might always want to hold your hands.”

Sirius presses a gentle kiss to your knuckle, locking eyes with you as he does it. Your heart kicks against your throat, your chest aching with the lack of air you’re getting. 

“You think you’re spoiled now? Best prepare yourself then, love.”

————

Sirius was right.

And that was confirmed when he gave you your first real hug. Not the quick hug you give your grandmother or your friend on the way out the door. But one of those hugs you’ve always seen in muggle romantic comedies or read about in your novels. The kind of hug you’ve never been able to fully wrap your mind around, but have imagined more than is healthy. When you lay in bed at night, clutching your teddy bear and wishing you could feel someone with you. 

He gave you your first romantic hug. And you’ve requested one each time he’s available. 

The request came after dinner one night, when he was watching you diligently scoop ice cream into a cone for him. Because you wanted to. Sirius hated to boost his own ego, but he had to admit that the way you had changed since furthering your relationship with him had you glowing. It’s not that you weren’t happy before, because you were, but this is different. It’s like he’s unlocked this vault inside of you, one where you’ve stored all this love and kindness, and he gets to experience it. 

He’s never seen you so…free. 

You’d set the ice cream cone down on the counter for him. “Ta-da,” you said, sticking the spoon back in the container and waiting for him to pick his toppings. He did so, admiring how you’d chosen things you knew he liked, how you were so giddy just from this moment. Your hair was a mess and you were wiping the stickiness from your fingers and he was so overwhelmed by you. 

“Sweetheart?” He’d asked, eyeing you as you did a happy little wiggle when you took a bite of the cheesecake ice cream you’d found earlier in the week. Your eyes found his, all doe-like, and your nose wrinkled because of how the pet name flustered you. 

He’d been trying those out too, and while getting you to do the same had been slow-going because of your nerves, you loved when he used them for you. 

You’d put down your spoon and hummed. “Yeah?”

He stepped closer to you. “Can I hug you, love?”

Your breath had caught, and at the same time that you were feeling immensely nervous and flustered, you were so excited. So excited to be hugged properly and by someone you were over the moon for. 

“Please?” 

You smiled and he laughed boyishly, moving in until your chests were almost touching. Your pulse hammered against your wrist. 

Sirius bent slightly, allowing you to rise up on your toes. He wrapped his arms around your waist, locking them snuggly against your back. Yours went around his neck, squeezing his shoulders. The entirety of his front pressed to yours, and he was so warm. 

Your fingers tentatively moved into the hair at the base of his neck, and you tucked your face into his neck, where he immediately felt your smile against his skin. 

Suddenly, Sirius had secured his arms tightly around you and lifted you up into the air, hoping to make you laugh. To show how giddy he was feeling. Because in truth, holding you like this, having you be his, filled a void in him he wasn’t even aware of. You were quickly becoming the air he breathed and everything in between. 

You kicked your feet and chuckled into his shoulder. He set you back down on the floor, and you hugged him for a bit longer. His were all-embracing, and in his arms, somehow all of your thoughts were immediately shut off, as if this was all the world consisted of. For Sirius, your hug made him feel as though this was the safest place he could ever be, and he knew it would be where he should go when he needed security. And you had this way of getting him to focus, to calm down and be present. 

Needless to say, you were both falling for each other. Though it should be mentioned that he’d already started before your relationship furthered, and you had suppressed your heart-eyes for him only because you never thought this kind of feeling was real. That it would be impossible for a boy to treat you this way. You try to let the little girl in you who always hoped for a fairytale romance celebrate every now and then.

There hasn’t been a label put on your relationship, but one night before you got there to hang out with everyone, Sirius calmly told the boys (and girls) that things between you had escalated to more-than-friends. And while they know you, it still felt right to make sure they wouldn’t pester you. 

In fact, they were overjoyed to see the both of you act so sweetly towards one another. James whispered in Lily’s ear more than once about how Sirius could not seem to take his eyes off you. Remus helped you in the kitchen and told you how nice it was seeing you so happy. So light. He’d given you a quick hug and wished you the best.

You have never felt so at ease.

Sirius has taken you on a number of dates at this point, some quaint and intimate, some more outgoing. You’ve held hands, hugged. You even got to cuddle with him on the couch. 

But you haven’t kissed. 

And you want to kiss him, so very bad.

But that is terrifying. 

All of your fears revolving that form of affection rush to the surface each time you contemplate when would be best to kiss him, if he wants to kiss you. What if you’re broken and you don’t feel anything? What if there’s no spark? What if, after all this time of hoping kissing would be enjoyable, after craving that intimacy, it just doesn’t work?

Every time you’re around him, all you want is to kiss him. You want that beautiful, sarcastic mouth on yours. You want to know what his plush lips feel like and learn how to kiss properly. You want to fluster him, and you want to be flustered. You want this. 

If you asked Sirius, you’d know he wants the same thing. Truthfully, he wants to pin you to the wall and kiss you silly. Until you forget every worry and anything that’s made you sad. Until all you feel is him. He wants to smother your pretty face in kisses. He wants to kiss every inch of you. 

Tonight, you’re going to Sirius’ place for a sleepover. And you are going to be brave and kiss him.  

————

Your socked feet are in Sirius’ lap, where he’s pushed your pajama pants up your calves so that he can rub his hands across the soft skin there.

Every once in a while, he’ll tickle the underside of your knee just to get you to giggle.

You’ve stopped paying any attention to the movie, and instead are looking at him. The only light in his small living room comes from the television and the array of eclectic lamps scattered around any surface he could fit one on. 

It casts shadows on his face, elongating that beautiful nose and the hollows of his cheekbones. His gray eyes look so dark, like storm clouds right before they let out all the rain they’ve been holding in. 

“Love?”

Sirius’ voice snaps you and your pounding heart out of your reverie. Your eyes lock with his, and you feel yourself heat up all over. He’s smiling at you. 

“Can you tell me what’s happening in the movie?” he asks you, crossing his arms in that oh so cocky way. 

Your thumb finds your bottom lip, picking at the skin there and trying to disguise the smile pulling at the corners of your lips. You shake your head, shyly. 

He straightens and leans in closer to you. “And why’s that, sweetheart?”

He has a hunch, but he wants you to say what’s on your mind, and you know that’s exactly what he’s waiting for. You know he could sit here all night until you spill your guts. 

“‘Cause I’ve been thinking about how bad I wanna kiss you.”

Sirius blushes, but he turns on the charm just as quickly. “Yeah? What’s stopping you?”

He places his hands on your knees. “I’m nervous,” you tell him. “You know I’ll be bad at it, and it might suck because of me, and even if all I want to do is kiss your sweet face, I just…want it to be good.”

He lifts his hand to cup your cheek. “Well, you know if it’s bad, that just means we get to practice.” You snort, and he rests his forehead against yours in an effort to console you and your nerves. 

You pull back and put your hands on his chest. It takes everything in you not to grin at how hard his heart is beating, especially with the swell of pride you feel knowing you’re the cause of that. 

“I really want to kiss you, Sirius.”

“I really want you to kiss me, darling.”

You inhale, scrunching your nose at him. At this point, you’ve got heart palpitations that are only going to get worse if you don’t act on this. 

“Meet me halfway?” you ask, tentatively. 

Sirius cups your face, leaning in slightly, but leaving you room to initiate. “Of course,” he breathes. 

You take hold of his wrists, fingers trembling. The feeling of his pulse both calms you and makes you sweat. 

You move forward, tilting your head to the side a little so you don’t smack noses. You can infer that much, at least. He inches closer each time you do, matching your pace. It almost makes you want to laugh at how slow and careful this is. You could also cry. 

When you’re close enough to feel his breath against your lips, you let your eyes close fully, as they’d been helping you find your mark so far. He meets you that last inch, and you are so grateful. 

Your lips finally touch in a short, but firm peck. You pull away, smiling, reveling in how soft his lips are. 

But now that Sirius has had a little taste of you, he can’t help but want more. He guides you back to him, helping you find a rhythm together. He slots your bottom lip between his, kissing you so brilliantly your brain empties of all thought. You do your best to kiss him back, albeit a little clumsily. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

You catch on when he takes turns paying attention to each of your lips, and you try and press all of the passion you feel right back into his. 

Every worry you previously had is gone.

You do feel that spark. It feels so magical, so all-encompassing, to be kissed like this. To have Sirius kiss you. 

You’re breathless. 

When Sirius finally pulls back for air, he presses kisses to your jaw and down your throat. The affection is so close to drawing a whimper from your throat. You know immediately that you could get drunk off of him. 

You pull him back up to you by his hair for one more short kiss and he grins boyishly into it. 

He starts to laugh. 

“Shit,” you start. “If I thought I was spoiled before, I really had no idea what was coming to me.”

Sirius tosses his head back, completely infatuated with you and so fucking gleeful at being yours. Because he is. Yours. 

“You’re gonna get sick of me,” you say. “Now I want to kiss you all the time.”

“Oh, love,” Sirius exhales. “What makes you think you’ll have a moment where I’m not the one addicted to you?”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[rosesnbooks]

Libra placements

disclaimer: i am not a professional! i write based on what i know from reading and observing others for fun.

🤍sun in libra-very charming people who usually get along with anyone they meet but they can be quite hard to read. they appear peaceful and calm, often with a smile. when they show up in the room, people naturally gravitate toward them. they dislike confrontations and if you push them hard enough, they’ll throw a fit. they care about their appearance so they look presentable most of the time, even in the comfort of their home. they like socialising with others, especially with those who bring them excitement and a sense of security. they deeply value fairness, but their feelings for others can sometimes cloud their judgment. if they give you several chances but suddenly cut you off, you should know that this didn’t happen overnight and that you’ve crossed too many lines. their loved ones are very important to them. people also underestimate how much they appreciate friendship. if underdeveloped, they can be fake because their hunger for attention and being liked can get out of hand. romance is very important as well, for many, because they love the idea of love and the high they get from it. some of them can be indecisive and even rely on others too much. they have a specific vision in mind of a perfect lover so they tend to seek out similar partners, at least visually. they like to daydream and manifest their perfect life.

🤍moon in libra-they are often idealistic but reasonable at the same time. placing themselves in a setting that is comforting and beautiful matters to them, as well as surrounding themselves with people who give them peace and happiness. They dislike spending too much time with intense people, especially those who seek chaos and have a pessimistic mindset. they tend to hide their feelings, so unless you ask them directly, they may not tell you anything if they don’t feel ready. they like to present themselves as if they have everything under control and that they’re living happily. don’t judge the book by its cover because these individuals have depth and strong emotions just as much as other signs. they process their emotions quietly in the privacy of their home (or any other safe setting). honestly, when they get angry they might seem like a completely different person. the underdeveloped ones are big gaslighters…they can use their charm to get out of many situations, and they also don’t know what they want. I admire their optimism because they tend to believe that no matter what happens, they’ll get through it.

🤍ascendant in libra- they feel familiar and sweet, so people have a relaxed demeanor as soon as they see them. they seem lovely and most of the time they are. they’re helpful to those who are nice and treat people kindly, no matter who they are. they have a nice figure and their style is usually consistent so it’s easy to recognize them. their smiles are super warm and many people find them attractive. their kindness and openness can sometimes make them vulnerable to manipulation. sometimes, even their loved ones take them for granted or don’t treat them right, and libra rising finds it difficult to fight for themselves, but they can work on that. they don’t usually go unnoticed and they have a strong desire to be liked, even if they don’t show it openly. i’ve noticed that they have a strong connection to music and listen to it all the time. they seek romance in their life and while that’s obvious for some, others try to hide it and display this side of them to those they trust. they notice the changes in someone’s energy easily and they're smart.

🤍mercury in libra-they treat everyone equally. in my opinion, it’s not easy to see when they dislike someone because they hide it so well. people generally have good opinions (or at least neutral) about them. they like to laugh and make jokes, and their voices are pleasing to the ear. they make others feel comfortable and safe, so a lot of people open up to them. they are genuinely interested in what anyone wants to say and they have lots of empathy. If they want to, they can be pretty good public speakers. they like to express themselves in various creative areas in their life so they often have different interests too. they highly dislike people who don’t care about morals and justice, but if underdeveloped, they can share these qualities because they do things for their own personal gain (or they are simply unaware that they’re doing something wrong)

🤍venus in libra-they crave love intensely and they seem to have a crush at all times. however, their imagination can be a lot better than the real thing which disappoints them when they let it get too far. when they like someone, they obsess over them and many of these people are ready to put their needs aside to be there for their person. it’s like everything in their life starts to evolve around their crush or partner, and this can lead to self-neglect. they are very romantic and they like to be pampered by their partner. unfortunately, many attract people who aren’t ready to give them what they desire. they can be a bit too traditional, if underdeveloped. loving them feels like being in a rom-com.

🤍mars in libra-very reasonable people who don’t get angry easily, unless they feel like you’ve crossed too many boundaries. developed mars in libra individuals prefer to address conflicts calmly and constructively. they can be hard-working and dedicated to their craft once they start doing something they love. they are also quite creative. they get along with many people and almost everyone has nice things to say about them. they’re helpful and understanding, and they value fairness, of course. they cherish the small things in life and they can manifest their dreams! they love their freedom and independence, but they also love being surrounded with their loved ones. i've noticed that many of them like to travel, in hopes of seeing the world in all its beauty and meeting lots of interesting people. they cherish their alone time as well.

🤍jupiter in libra-they achieve most luck in life when they focus on living harmoniously and surround themselves with loving and balanced people. they thrive in healthy partnerships (whether personal or professional). they’re able to listen to both sides and evaluate their views before making a final decision and this enables them to form meaningful relationships. their qualities are perfect for leaders and they are natural mediators. people ask for their advice often. they notice beauty and potential in everything. they can be ambitious and they know how to work with others, how to make compromises, and their patient character grants them success. they have a strong sense of justice and want equality.

🤍saturn in libra-saturn works well in this sign so there aren’t too many issues. they share most traits as those with jupiter in libra. i haven't met anyone with this placement as far as i know, but i have read that these people tend to either have trust issues or that they have extremely high standards that those around them cannot possibly fulfill. they need to learn how to rely on others and work on creating a balanced life, one in which their needs are met and where they aren’t too afraid of putting themselves out there.

I want to thank everyone who contributed to the making of this post♡

[muffinsin]

ok but how would the sisters react to their g!p s/o accidentally doing something sexy? for example, they walk in as reader spills wine or something down their shirt...just picture it...sitting on a loveseat, manspreading in some nice trousers...red wine dripping their neck/chest because their shirt is open? are we going to be toast? 🧐

Ohh, I see👀 “Are we going to be toast?”, dear anon, yes XP. They are, after all, insatiable. Let’s get into it! ;)

Masterlists

Bela

Some would assume being the eldest comes with a lot of experience in about every single way

A lot of lovers, a lot of flirts and sex, among them

In Bela’s case, you know better

Not indulging in many before you, she’s easily flustered by just about every little thing you do

A single kiss enough for her to lean into you, a hand on her hip enough to make her fluster, low whispers, promises of what you will do enough for her to squirm and flush beautifully

And all this, being flustered so easily, was revealed before she found out about the appendage between your legs

Now that is truly something to make your blonde beauty fluster easily

While she’s normally quite controlled, you make her lose control far too easily

Such as today

You’re not particularly aware of what you’re doing, sitting in the armchair in her room, drinking the wine her family is so very known for, and reading one of her favorite books

You take no notice of your legs, wide apart as you manspread like you usually do, nor how full the glass of wine is

You don’t recall filling it this much at your last refill

Still, you pay little attention to it, instead fingering the pages of the book gently as each page is turned

Bela walks in on you like this, and her breath hitches immediately

Her thick, shapely thighs push together instantly as pleasure hits between her legs

Your legs, spread wide, allow her to see the bulge in your fancy trousers

She can see it even through them, the pants outlining it nearly perfectly

She sees it and can automatically use memories to add to it, so that she can perfectly picture your tip, surely being slightly pink from being pushed up against the trousers

Your balls, set against them in the obvious outline

And of course the large shaft, thick and long, enough to make her see stars when you’re halfway in already and enough to have her claw at whatever she can when you’re fully pushed in

Her eyes wander, somewhat shameless as you aren’t aware of her just yet

She finds your blouse, white, not entirely buttoned to the top

Your nipples are pushed against the fabric and your collarbone is revealed

She feels her face heat up immediately and desire rise within her

Too absorbed in your book, you haven’t looked up and taken notice of her just yet

Poor Bela is trying hard to keep it together, to hold onto her facade of the cool-headed, composed heiress

Then though, you grasp for your glass again

And as you set it against your lips, wine spills over, the fullness of the glass having surprised you

You gasp as it drips past the rim of the glass, past your chin and onto your chest

Your eyes meet hers as she inhales sharply, and you smirk upon seeing her flushed cheeks and clenched thighs

Slowly, the red wine stains your shirt, drawing her attention to your erect nipples and soaked chest

Then, before you can even mutter a word, she’s on you, her golden eyes revealing desperation she isn’t known for

“Bela,”, you chuckle, but you too gasp quickly when her hands drop to your bulge and squeeze

She needs you now, wants you now

And you’re all too eager to give all you have to her

Wasting no time, you bring her dress up to her hips

She’s straddling you, her thin fingers playing and tearing at your blouse as her dress is hiked up

You groan when her smooth, pale ass is revealed to you

Her cheeks are nearly fully on display thanks to the thong slipping between them, and you grow almost painfully erect at the sight already

You know she’s tight, and your cock aches as you dwell on the memory of taking her, all of her, granted to use her body and holes for the pleasure you both seemed

As you allow your hand to slide across her ass, you wonder if you will be granted to take her like that again today

She’s moaning in your ear already, adorably sensitive- and wet, no doubt

Soon, your blouse is entirely unbuttoned and her hands drop to your lap

As you massage her ass and tease her by sliding your fingertip across the panties cupping her still, she works on undoing your pants and freeing you

You know, you will no longer have time to read now and quite frankly have no desire to do so just now anyway

Not when you could be doing Bela instead

By the end of it you’re all but covered in black lipstick marks, your cock a mix of pink and red, black lipstick marks and white, creamy cum sticking to it

You’re breathing heavily as you hold her hip, ensuring she doesn’t fall, and keep her close to you

The both of you sit, exhausted, upon the armchair you ruined and stained, slashed and wore out

You don’t mind

She will get a new one

She always does

Cassandra

One thing you learn about your girlfriend early on?

She’s rather insatiable, bold, eager, dirty, and just about as naughty as one might think she is

And when she sets her eyes on something, she wants it, and she wants it the moment she spots it

This also includes you

Often, you find yourself cornered by her, groaning, moaning, panting as she bobs her head up and down between your legs

Or perhaps granted a view of her strong backside as you thrust forth and back and slam your hips to her full, jiggling ass cheeks

Or something simpler, like her hand in your pants, sometimes agonizingly slow as she rubs you to an orgasm, at other times so fast you can barely contain yourself as you spill in her hand and your underwear

One thing is always the same, though

There’s always a certain look in her eyes before this happens

A hunger, a desire for touch and pleasure

She easily and effortlessly seduces you, and it seems you do the same to her

Today is no different

You’re sitting in a loveseat, sharpening one of her weapons for her

A small gesture, but one you know she will appreciate, even adore

Romance is different with Cassandra, it’s its own kind, one you’re proud you’ve figured out

She’ll practically swoon when showed her sharpened sickle, you know

You hum a little to yourself, then jump when the door slams open and a certain brunette enters

Her eyes are immediately on you, and again you notice the hungry look in her eyes

They’re set on you, or to be more precise; on the visible bulge between your rather spread legs

You know, manspreading isn’t quite helping her contain her lust

You’re practically teasing and tempting the nymph-like woman at times, and you can’t help but enjoy it

She’s on you in an instant, moaning and hissing when the tip of her sickle digs into her side

Your dick twitches a little at the sweet sound, aching as it pushes against the rich fabric of your trousers

Her desire is clear as day, her sharp nails already digging into your shoulders, her crotch hovering above your lap

Today, you feel like teasing her. You feel you’re up for the challenge

As such, you bring your palm down, your fingers gripping her wrists tightly just when she’s about to reach for your crotch

She raises her eyebrow, her golden eyes deadly, but so very tempting and seductive

You smile at her, squeezing the wrists held in your hand. While stronger than all mortals, Cassandra is quite petite, at least in some places

She allows you to proceed though, her eyes and smile as challenging as yours

“I was just about to help you prepare for your next hunt”, you hum, and relish in her gasp when you tip the sickle slightly, the tip digging harder into her side

You let go of her wrists when you’re sure she won’t just take what she wants again

Instead, she reaches for the bottle of wine

You watch as she easily tips it and presses the rim of it against your lips, and groan as soon the sweet taste of it hits your tongue

Only does more and more come, so much so that you have difficulty swallowing all of it

And as such, it’s not long at all until some of it drips at the sides of your mouth, sliding down your chin

Only is Cassandra’s attention to longer on the bottle

Instead she watches, chest heaving and hips rolling slightly, as droplets of wine drip to your chest, then down to your breasts

A stain in your blouse marks its trail

Her mouth waters

The bottle is removed from you, and you jump when she simply drops it and it smashes on the wooden floor

Then, she’s on you in an instant, like a predator having caught its prey

You groan when her nails tear into your thighs, then the trousers are all but ripped from you

By the look in her eyes, you know it will be a long day and night

Daniela

Often, you tease your girlfriend, make her feel all hot and bothered, a whimpering and flushed mess, her head filled with the dirty thoughts you’ve inspired

Usually, you’re not aware that you’ve teased her

Daniela is just so very- responsive

For example, sometimes she gets almost feral when you simply allow her to sit in your lap, unaware that she’s fully feeling your bulge press against her ass cheeks

When she begins to squirm adorably on top of you, her chest and cheeks flushed, her fingertips brushing against you

Her cute little moans, her skin covered in goosebumps

Or when you simply mean to hug her, yet your hands on her hips make the sensitive woman gasp and squirm closer to you already

And so what if you grope a little? If you think with your cock as some might say, and boldly take what you want

It usually ends the same type of way, with her eyes hazy and wide, her mouth open and moans spilling past her soft lips, a wide smile on her lips

Perhaps, with her plowed into the bed by you, her arms held, the view of her backside nearly enough to make you cum already

Or with her mouth on you, your head thrown back and your hands in her hair

She’s eager and insatiable, eagerly swallowing and taking all you give her, always, at any time

Today is no different than others as it comes to this

She’s sat on your lap as usual, attempting to read one of her books

Only is it proving difficult

Her flushed cheeks and occasional whimpers tell you all you need to know, really

You manspread without thinking, attempting to ease the discomfort between your legs

In turn, she squeaks in surprise, clinging to you in favor of preventing her fall

Only does this mean she’s directly pressed up against your cock, covered merely by the thin layer of your trousers

You groan lowly, setting your hand on her hip

You’re breathing lowly, wondering whether she’ll act

Then, nothing

She hums and settles down again, as though nothing happened

Perhaps today’s one of the days she attempts to act shy and innocent, despite the naughty thoughts swarming her mind

A slight smirk forms at your lips

You want to see just how long she can keep the facade up, or whether you’ll get to take her like this, tearing innocence away from her yet again, just the way the two of you enjoy it

She’s gasping when you move her book from her, and the knowing smile on her lips tells you she knows exactly what game the two of you are about to start

She moves her hand to your neck, but just then you move slightly

It’s not much, nor too fast, but enough for the tip of her sharp, claw-like nail to nip your neck

You hiss and she draws back immediately, yet her eyes only widen, the gold in them merely a small ring within clouds of black

She watches, as though enhanced, as a drop of blood drags from the small wound and down your neck

Immediately, the teasing thing has a reaction on your girlfriend

She bites her lip and whimpers, easily sinking into your touch when you squeeze her hips

Daniela gasps when she’s rocked to you, held tight as she tries so very hard to win this little game of yours

Alas, she doesn’t really stand a chance, not when you grab her by the hair and tug her to your neck

Immediately, moans and the wet slurping sounds of her mouth on your neck follow

She’s whining and groaning, eagerly rocking against your crotch, her fingernails digging into your clothing

A promise, a plead, a wish to be taken

How could you deny her?

[naesfilm]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ groom . . . im nayeon x fem! reader

༯ synopsis : nayeon doesn’t want to take a bath . . .

༯ warnings : hybrid , smut , soft sex , bath sex , fingering , nipple play / light stimulation , soft overstimulation , bunny nayeon , bottom! nayeon , top reader

༯ word count : 2.1k

“Nayeon~”

The bunny perked, ears lifting lazily as she turned her head from her spot on the couch - hand hesitating over her ipad. She paused, setting the device down and turning on the couch and-… her ears lowered back again when she saw you. “Yes?”

You gently smiled, hands resting on her head and rubbing softly. “What’re you doing? Anything time consuming?”

“Jus’ playing games…” Nayeon murmured, bunny ear lazily flopping against your hand in response to the gentle pets. “…why?”

“Well, today is Friday.”

Nayeon blinked. “…yeah?”

“It’s your grooming d—“

“Noooo…!!!!” Whined the bunny immediately, beginning to thrash about to move away. You quickly grabbed her, hoisting her up with an awkward oomph that made Nayeon’s expression sour.

“Yah, i’m not that heavy.”

“No, but you are feisty.”

Your hands slipped; one holding her waist and the other holding her legs as she laid with her body half over your shoulders- whining and wagging her fluffy tail agitatedly. “Y/nnnn~ I don’t need to be cleaned…! I’m a clean girl!”

“You don’t groom properly,” You huff, patting her butt. “Up we go.”

Nayeon’s whines filled the dorm, causing a few others to peek out of their rooms. Yoo Jeongyeon being one that outwardly snickered. “Haha, you have to get a bath~”

“Shove it, mutt!” Huffed Nayeon, tiny tail shifting as she stuck her tongue out.

“Good luck, Y/n!” Resident bear hybrid Park Jihyo called as you rounded into the bathroom. “She’s a scratcher!”

You swiftly shut the door, listening to the faint giggles before locking it and guarding it softly, sitting Nayeon on the sink and holding out a hand. “Clothes.”

“Y/n-“

“Clothes.”

She huffed, begrudgingly reaching and pulling off her shirt — droopy blonde bunny ears flopping back against her head with soft smacks. Then her hands trailed back to her bra and unclipped it, passing that along too. You began to wordlessly fold the clothes, fighting to keep your attention from the woman in front of you.

Of course, that was hard, as not only was Nayeon getting undressed, but she was also huffing and puffing. It was very very adorable to witness.

Finally, once all her clothes were removed, Nayeon crossed her arms and pouted — her bottom lip jutting out in a cute display of annoyance. “Get your butt in the tub,” You chuckled. “I already drew the bath a bit ago, it’s still nice and warm.”

“Mm.” The blonde grumbled, sounding like an angry toddler as she walked over and begrudgingly stepped into the tub; soapy water coming up to just barely hide her chest as she sunk down in. “This is so stupid.”

“Such a complainer~”

Nayeon spared you an eye roll.

You padded over and affectionately smiled toward her, grabbing a stool and sitting down as you lifted a tiny cup and began to gently run the warm water over her sensitive ears. Nayeon whimpered instantly, her agitation and overall bad-girl attitude disappearing the moment the water hit her head.

It wasn’t the water Nayeon hated, but rather the sensitivity of her ears. And that always made her…well—

“Too hot?” Your voice came, low and softly as you ran the water down her back before moving back up to her ears.

Nayeon shook her hand, thighs pressing together as she pulled them up to her chest and silently pressed her face into their backs. Your hands came next, gently reaching up and caressing the soft fur of her ears— rubbing over hypersensitive areas and working her up to the point of a sweet flush on her features.

“Y/n…”

“Yes?” You’d whisper back, deeming her ears and hair wet enough to move on to wetting the tops of her shoulders and bit of her back that was above the water.

The older woman gave a soft shiver. “…I-“ Her cheeks puffed and she looked away. “…guess this isn’t so bad.”

Adorable.

“See?” You chuckled. “I knew you could be a good girl for me.”

Nayeon flushed further, ears gently lowering. “…’m always a good girl…”

“Oh? Are you?”

The noise of soap being squirted into your palm made Nayeon squeeze her eyes shut. The shampoo you used was a pet brand, but was scented with sweet lavender. It smelled like you, and Nayeon half wondered if maybe you used the same kind.

Whatever, it didn’t matter.

The bunny just appreciated your scent.

Rub, squeeze, repeat.

You combed through her hair with your fingers, easing the soap around and taking extra care to trace the lengths of her ears — making a desperate heat pool to Nayeon’s core as she shyly sat there, letting you take your time and make sure she was all properly cleaned and groomed well.

“…feels good.”

You smiled at that. “I can tell.”

“Mph.” Nayeon glanced away, before slowly moving her legs to stretch back out, so she could lay her head back more. You grabbed the cup from before and filled it with water, slowly easing it over her head and against her ears— draining the soap away. Yet Nayeon…- didn’t want to leave the bath.

She nibbled on her lip the moment you started to clean up. “Wait.”

You paused, glancing over.

“Can you…” A gulp. “Wash my body too?”

A heavy flush. Your cheeks had grown ten times hotter, and you swallowed pretty thickly, adjusting yourself before whispering back. “… are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Her reply was instant and it made her shy away, gently— leaning back to expose the tops of her breasts in the water. Your eyes snapped down, a thick swallow following at their pale skin— the slope so perfectly carved and topped with two rosy-hued nipples, already begging for your attention.

“…right,” You pulled your hands with some soap, and gently eased in a manner where her body was in better display before — your palms met her sensitive chest, rolling it around slowly and squeezing to work her up.

Nayeon’s moans we’re soft but instant, eyes shutting as her head lolled back. “Mn…Y/n…”

She let out a soft gasp that you were sure you’d imagined the second your thumb slipped over a needy tip— her chest straining more for your love and care. Delicate and languid strokes left her shaking in the tub, thighs rubbed together and moans falling with more passion as your hands kept their ministration up— teasing her to the brink of it all with sweet flicks and h gentle tugs.

“P-Please,” Nayeon had whispered after she endured the torturous pleasure for long enough. “Need you…”

“…” Silently, your dominant hand traveled down, parting her thighs and— you ducked in a breath. Even despite the water you could feel her wet arousal, warm and needy— coating your fingers already. “…fuck.”

Nayeon whined in embarrassment and excitement, gently turning and nuzzling her head into your neck as your middle finger traced her slit and dipped in, caressing her folds precisely. The older girl was left trembling.

Especially when those expert fingers danced up to her eagerly puffed clit, begging— no, screaming to be toyed with. You first

rolled it between your middle and ring fingers, watching her back needily and imagining she probably squeezed around nothing (she did), and then you returned to slow and steady rubs — similar to what you had done to her ears.

Nayeon was an absolute mess.

Her hands jumped and gripped the sides of the tub, her mouth creating and releasing lewd noises Nayeon swore up and down she’d never release. Gods forgive her. She was just so achy and your fingers— fuck, they felt like a damn miracle.

“Just like that..” She panted breathlessly, groaning afterward as her hips rubbed in sync to your fingers, grinding herself further against you. “F-Fuck— need it Y/n/n, please…!”

You gulped because- holy shit?

The bunny girl was so, so needy and desperate for you and the way she rubbed up against your hand felt like heaven. Gently, your fingers lead down the length of her pussy — a pretty red hue taking over down there from all the stimulation. Your fingers met her entrance and Nayeon shuttered, fluttering around nothing as her eyes glanced and met yours and she nodded.

With all the confirmation you needed being in that very nod, you slightly withdrew one finger before easing in your middle, feeling her body adjust to take you in. Nayeon’s ears were practically pinned down, head lolling back as a moan left her lips. Something about the way you eased in while the water was being pushed away from her just— god.

“N-Ngh, Y/n…”

“Shh,” You hushed gently, glancing down and agitatingly swishing away a few bubbles so you could get a clearer view down in the water of how her cunt practically swallowed your finger whole. After a few slow minutes, Nayeon had you down to your knuckle, and you were able to brace your hand using your free fingers— giving enough power and strength to pull out and push back in at a slow pace.

Nayeon was tight from nerves but the moment the pad of your thumb lifted to rub over her aching clit - which begged greedily for more touches - Nayeon came undone. A sharp whine left her lips; ears working up completely, hips lifting in the water, walls unclenching around your finger to allow you better movement.

“Good girl,” You whispered softly, swallowing afterward. “Taking it so well…”

“Oh my god…-“ The blonde’s eyes squeezed shut, little moans rippling from her pretty throat which—

Your lips moved quickly. Too empty, you thought, as they pressed against her neck and gently nipped and sucked pretty flower-like patterned bruises into the pale skin there. Nayeon groaned and the vibration sounded against your lips in a nice toe-to-toe dance.

Still, your finger pushed in and out of her, knuckle deep, edging her walls and making her whine up needily, especially now that your lips were attacking her neck. And finally —

“M-More…” Whimpered the older girl.

You nodded and looked down at her body — bubbles covering her chest in the most erotic yet beautiful manner. You gently slid your finger almost out of her before your ring finger came to rest beside it, both then pushing in.

“F-Fuck…! Y/n..!” She shyly wrapped her arms around what bit of your shoulders she could reach, body curling up as your fingers slipped in — the wetness of her cunt allowing easy, almost embarrassing, passage into her. “F-Feels so good…”

Her hips squirmed, thighs coming to press against your arm as they fluttered shut against your wrist.

Nayeon’s ears flopped again, her lower half beginning to tremble as she tapped a slightly damp arm against the back of your neck. “G-Gonna—..fuck-“

The rapid taps on your neck garnered your attention, and you quickly attended to her — occasional swipes of your thumb on her clit, the quick and steady thrusts of your fingers; swallowed up by her cunt.

“B-Baby—“ Nayeon began, panting as she wiggled her hips.

She was getting close; clawing her way up to her peak as she clenched around your digits, whining and nuzzling what little bit of you her head could reach. Her voice had stopped from being real moans — shifting to a sort of higher pitched whine, lazy thrusts of her hips aiding in the gentle thrusts of your hand. Ripples echoed in the water behind her from her thrashing and the wagging of her tiny fluffy tail.

Your name left Nayeon’s lips in a hushed whine, as she gently ejected her claws and scratched slowly at your neck — red welts building from the force.

“Come on baby,” You encouraged, slightly breathless from the sight before you. Gods, she was perfect. “Come on, you can do it…”

Nayeon whimpered, shaking her head despite knowing full well she wanted nothing more than her own sweet release. Nayeon’s stomach sunk in and out quickly, her light abs showing as she pressed her face into your neck. “..’m gonna…!”

With a jolt, her body staggered and her hands clawed anxiously at you, walls tightening around your fingers and siphoning you in more as they spawned with the force of her release. Warmth radiated from that spot in intense waves, her climax happening quick and intense.

A low moan left her lips as your fingers stalled, lips skirting against your neck. “…oh my god,” she breathed finally, tiny waves of winces and huffs rolling through her body.

With resistance from her inner walls, you slowly pulled your fingers out and waved them in the water a bit to clean them off, before resting them on her thigh and holding her there.

Nayeon panted slowly, and you whispered.

“Good girl, good bunny…”

The older sighed, and silently nuzzled your neck. “…thank you,” She murmured loosely, voice hoarser than before, filled with the undertones of her pleasure. “…felt good.”

You hummed, rubbing her waist slowly until the tremors and winces subsided. And then you patted her thigh. The bath was now over, with Nayeon being properly cleaned.

[notthecutesttrash]

Grey (Pt. 3/Final)

Warnings: Reader is painfully nice, angst, ultra fluff

Word count: 8k

PART 1, PART 2

At lunch, you sit in your old spot. Your feet dangling above the ground atop the bench while eating the food your mother made yesterday. She didn’t leave you a note this time, seeing how upset you have been these past few days, which is a relief. It was quiet today. No girls to bother you, no one near your favorite large tree that the wind loved to surround. 

Sure you’re relieved that you can finally eat food, relieved that you’re undisturbed, relieved you won’t have any more bruises.. but you aren’t happy. And you’re only able to eat half of your food before you lose your appetite. 

You make sure to avoid everyone if possible. Throughout the scowls, the glances, and the even more hidden whispers, you keep your head low and move quickly to avoid interaction. Especially making sure to ignore a specific Miya twin. It’s not like he would deliberately talk to you now that the project is over, but still, you’d rather not see him at all. 

Practice always arrived promptly. Although you’re doing all right, better than before perhaps, you don’t say much. Lucy looks like she wants to approach you a few times, but you make sure to pack up and exit so fast she’s unable to. Several times you nearly stumble into a set of yellow and grey-haired twins who leave their practice around the same time as you, as unfortunately, the other gym is right across theirs. Fortunately, you manage to quickly scurry away, enough for them not to notice you. 

Atsumu lately is giving you more glances than usual as if he is planning on saying something. So when the bell rings you would rapidly spring out of your seat and run to the bathroom. Closing the stall, you’d sit on the toilet and hold your lunch to your lap, exhaling a relieved sigh. 

You didn’t want to hear any more teasing. Not after that embarrassing display you showed.

It keeps replaying in your head over and over. The way you're pushed to the ground, surrounded by bullies, revealing your terror so promptly. The way Mr. Knight in shining black armor saves the day and makes you feel even worse. 

I don’t need your help. Leave me alone. That phrase echoes in your head. 

Pathetic. You can’t even deal with your problems, instead, Atsumu of all people helped, and worse.. it did something. You aren’t being targeted anymore and that was irritating. If it hadn’t been for him, you wouldn’t be in this stall right now miserably eating your lunch. Food would be in your hair, you’d come home to your mom and dad who’d ask how the day went, and you'd have to keep up the stupid lie of sharing your food. 

Sighing, you pack up the rest of your lunch.

Kiyoko and the women trudge into the area, their hair a little damp, bits of food poking in it. Their heads hang low, and some are snickering at them. 

It seemed the tables had also now turned, and you didn't know why.

You’re confused as you spot Atsumu chuckling, and some part of you is disappointed in him.  

When you’re studying them, they manage to gather a collective scowl at you, and accustomed to the fear you swiftly spin.  

Before everything, you'd eat alone, avoid any interaction, ignore bullying, play, run off, go home, stay in your room all day, do homework, and then go to sleep. It was just as it was, back to normal. No pathetic fangirls, no men, and no motherly teasing. No one spoke to you, everyone (besides Atsumu striving to get your attention) ignored you as you did to them.

Kiyoko might give you a few scowls sure, but did she deserve that? 

It was perfectly justified, just how everyone decided it should be… Right? 

A voice would selfishly reason that it is better than being the one who is repeatedly bullied. You would no longer dread going back to school, no more panic attacks at 4 am, just a plain good night’s sleep. 

But you're not satisfied now.

It's just wrong.. all wrong.

When class ends, you encounter eyes with Atsumu.. then you do the unthinkable. 

You start fixating as Kiyoko's aggressively packs her bags before going home. She’s too drowsy to even force a glare yet still has a hard hatred in her eyes when fixated. “Uh… hey, Kiyoko.”

“What?” 

Atsumu is confused, and he’s frozen beside the door as he watches the exchange. You’re shyly fidgeting with your fingers and she scowls at you. 

You mutter to not be heard by a certain someone. “Are you… okay?” 

Kiyoko’s eyes widen, but It sharply settles to a glower that feels similar to Atsumu before he had told her off. 

“Like you care.” She shoves past you, bumping your shoulder, and stomps out the room. It’s a silent pitiful pause before you start to do the same and Atsumu calls out to you.

“(Y/n) wait-“ 

He blocks the doorway, and you stand, crossing your arms. You have a cold expression, and you're glaring angrily. “What are you doing?”

“Getting your attention.” He looks pathetically desperate, and you grunt.

“No. I mean, what are you doing?” You firmly repeat, and he's visibly lost and doesn’t understand.

“Are you bullying Kiyoko?” He’s taken aback at your words, shocked. He doesn’t respond, he’s not sure how to when the answer is around the lines of, "yes- but not in that way."

A pin drop can be heard in the heaviness. You gather every bit of courage and force your way out, declaring something that makes him still. 

“You’re such a jerk.” 

Atsumu is accustomed to these words. Osamu, his team members, women, friends and, so on would say similar phrases along these lines. It shouldn’t have hurt, but when you did, there was a pang in his chest like none other. 

This time when you rushed out of practice today, you saw Atsumu waiting outside. 

“(Y/n) lis-“ You spin on your heel the opposite way and rush off. He sighs, slumping disappointedly. He fixates on your retreating form, a twitch prodding his lips into a small inevitable frown. 

Osamu elbows him hard in the side, forcing him out of his trance and causing him to grumble.

“Talk to her.”  

His shoulders fall as he watches your even farther form. You’re clutching your bag desperately tight, and your speed walking like you’re politely running away. 

“Yea, easy for you to say. She doesn’t want to be talked to.” 

“And how do you know?” 

“Hm, I dunno, maybe her saying the words “leave me alone.” or you’re such a jerk.” 

Rintaro joins the conversation as he walks out of the gym. “She’s a girl. All of them do that. In reality, that’s code for “give me attention.” Because if you don’t they’ll just get even more mad.” 

Shinsuke follows after, stoically blinking. “Were you talking with her normally before?”

“I mean.. a little.. yeah.”

“So did you do anything impolite to make her not want to talk to you?”

Atsumu’s expression falters, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Well..” 

“He made her cry, twice.” Osamu chips in, and Atsumu elbows him hard, his expression changing into a glare. 

“Huh, maybe she does want you to leave her alone then,” Rintaro says.

He quickly slumps in defeat. “Yeah… I’ve been.. a bit of a jerk.” 

The team side eyes each other. “A bit?” 

“There's a possibility it can all be fixed by communication. Go apologize and talk about it,” Shinsuke says simply. Atsumi groans aloud, face planting. 

“What if she hates me now Samu?” 

“I was just trying to help.”

“Do you think I really am mean?”

“Do I deserve redemption?” 

Osamu’s eye twitches at the tenth whine and nearly decks his brother in the face when they arrive home. 

When you open the door to yours, you look miserable. 

“Are you okay?” Your mother asks, and you let out an exhausted breath. 

“Yeah.” Slipping your shoes off, you leave the rest of your lunch on the table and rush to go upstairs. Your mother is frowning once she opens the bento, finding the food only half eaten. It was just like before when there was no project, no bullies, and no boy. 

Cuddling your blankets you turn on the TV to watch whatever. You remain like that for a few minutes before a gentle buzz vibrates the bed. Pulling it to your sight, you see 

Miya Atsumu: “Can we talk?” 

You huff and throw the phone away from you. What did he possibly have to talk about to have the nerve to text you? 

The worst part is you didn’t even hate him for it, and you despised that you didn’t.

Maybe if you were a vengeful person, you’d be at peace now. You should just be happy that Kiyoko and the others are getting a taste of their own medicine. But you aren't. You’re not happy, it doesn’t make you proud, It makes you sad.

Frankly, you just want nothing happening at all. You’re okay with a boring life, no one speaking to you, no one being bullied, eating lunch, going to practice, coming home, eating dinner, and going to sleep. That’s it, that’s all you needed and you’d be happy.

But would you though? 

All you can think about is the warm sputter of butterflies in your stomach when he brushed up against your leg at that desk last Friday. The way he so genuinely smiled and how it made your heart bloom. He’s so different when it’s with you alone, so how could he be so cruel? 

At dinner time, you’re quiet and your parents send a few glimpses to another. There is a dull ache in your chest as you eat, and you can’t help but remember how your mom giggled when Atsumu was at the table. It’s a direct comparison to the painful silence right now. Your dad is reading the paper, your mom is awkwardly eating, and you’re pressing your hand against your cheek while shoving small forceful bits of food into your mouth. 

“So..” your dad starts and you’re already dreading this. 

“Anything new happening lately?” Your mom gives him a certain look as if saying are you sure you want to go into that? 

“No.” 

“How was the project?” 

You shrug. “It was fine.” 

“You’re no longer talking to that boy?” Your dad hesitantly asks. Your mom clears her throat when you go silent. 

Your tone is frustrated and drawn out as you battle with your patience. “It was just a project Dad. We did our work and now it’s done, it’s been done since Tuesday.”

He slowly nods and looks at your mom again. 

“Well..” she starts and you don’t know where it’s going but you give her a fed-up look. “Do you like him?” 

You go silent again and you’re no longer eating, just playing with your food. There's a mixture of both disgust and affirmation to that question.

“No..” 

They share a look. “Okay.”

“But..”

You sigh when it still keeps going.

“If you do… maybe you should talk to him.” 

They don’t know the full story. All they know is a man you might like gets assigned to be your partner and sparks fly. They don’t know your mixed emotions.

They don’t know how he made you cry twice. The first from him practically calling you a loser and laughing in your face. The second, him seeing the embarrassing display of being bullied by his own fangirls, and worse, saving you from it. They don’t know the evil side of him when he is returning the favor to them right after.

“Yeah.. I guess.” You take a small unenthused bite of food, then stand, signaling that you’re done talking. 

A buzz vibrates your phone, and you’re washing the dishes, ignoring the sound. You know who it is. 

“Is that Atsumu?” Your mother chirps in, also just happening to know. It rumbles again and you sigh. 

You want to say it was another friend or Lucy, but that would be a fat lie. No one texts you, you have no friends. Lucy didn’t even have your number, she was just a nice teammate. Your parents have been trying not to pester you about it, but now and then they would imply something along the lines of getting together or inviting a certain someone for dinner. 

They didn’t know what was happening, they had zero rights. 

Your curiosity gets the better of you. Subconsciously you pull it to your view and you see 2 notifications belonging to the name of Miya Atsumu. 

Miya Atsumu: “Can I just explain?” 

Miya Atsumu: “Please?” 

Why did he want to talk to you so badly? You just can't understand it. Did he care about you or something? No. That’s out of the question. 

For the first time you’re instinctively typing an angry response, forgetting that he can see the bubbles on his end. Crap. You delete it quickly and your heart stammers when you see an immediate text forming from him. A minute passes of nothing and you exhale a breath of relief, maybe he didn’t see and was caught up in his own text. Or he respected your lack of answer, which you doubted, but you’re glad you don’t see another. 

Why did you still have his number in your phone anyway? The project was over, he isn't going to keep talking to you after he's bored. Just because he hasn’t been mean to you for those few days during the project didn't mean he suddenly changed.

A sting in your heart rejects that notion, remembering again the feeling of your heart when you both share a laugh and work beside each other. Whenever his eyes would twinkle at you so sweetly like he actually cared. 

You should hate his stupid smug face, the way it looks at you, the way his eyes glimmer. You should hate him, and Kiyoko, and Angie, and Osamu, and.. and.. ugh. You’re practically scrubbing a plate down to the bone before your mother plucks it out of your hand. 

“I think it’s clean now.” You’re groaning, jaw clenched so tightly you’re sure you’re going to snap something. 

“Why don’t you just go upstairs, for now, I’ll finish the rest.” She says, grabbing the sponge out of your hands. 

You breathe what feels like steam. “Fine.” 

Over the next few days Atsumu is still desperately trying to get your attention. Practically doing anything in his power to make sure the stars align to speak to you. But you’re quicker. 

Whenever you see that yellow hair you make sure to run far, bolting at the slightest resemblance. You never even manage to get to your locker before he’s in the hallway, so you’re forced to carry obnoxious books while you sprint off. Besides, even if the fangirls were told off, you’re sure they would do something once they see you speaking with him again. And it's not like you’d tell him either if something did. They can easily threaten you, and force you to meet up outside of school so you can get thrashed around.

Today he’s nowhere in sight and you’re finally releasing the pounds of weight off your arms. 

“Hey.” A familiar stern voice shakes you to your core, and you slowly stand around to get a view of the person.

Osamu, thank god. 

“Hi..?” You awkwardly press your back against the locker, staring at the calm features that replicate Atsumu. He looked much different, and his features are more relaxed.

“You’re (Y/n) right?” He asks.

You’d think he'd remember that after the time his brother made you run off with tears. 

“Yeah..” you trail off, unable to meet his eye while you grip the strap of your bag tightly.

“Hm.” He pauses randomly, studying you, and you’re shuffling your legs nervously. 

Finally, he speaks. “Do me a favor, tell Sumu off so he can finally stop bothering me.” You furrow confusedly. 

“What?” 

“He won’t shut up about you, I’ve been hearing it for weeks now," he groans. You’re eyes widen. You can't believe him, but he looks terribly annoyed just thinking about it that it makes it seem truthful. 

“What? Weeks?” That didn’t make sense. 

“Or get together already, I don’t care.” He sighs tiredly, like fed up with the world. 

You huff, “All he cares about is bullying,” under your breath. 

He shrugs, “He can't pull that off, he's too focused on whining like a baby trying to get your attention.”  

If Atsumu was here, surely he’d be arguing with his brother, exclaiming, “That’s not true!” But you’re ogling at the imaginary scene, unable to even picture that. 

You awkwardly say an "okay.." mainly to end the conversation.

He lets out a sigh, the only thing his mind can go to as he walks off is food. “I’m hungry.” 

He’s gone before you could even respond, and you’re standing there, completely dazed. What even just happened?

It’s cold outside, it's the weekend luckily, and you’re bumping your volleyball at home to the wall, practicing your receives. No texts were received today which was nice. You knew he’d get bored. He’s fed up and the chain of command continues. You're free while others take your stead.

Guilt aches in your chest from that thought. 

“Dinners almost ready (Y/n)!” Your mom calls out, and you pant into the wispy air. Setting the volleyball down, you take off your outside shoes and slide the door behind you. It’s warm, and your dry hands clasp together, receiving the heat. Your moms about to serve the food, and you stand at the bottom of the stairs. 

“I’m going to get my gloves for outside.” 

She nods and you rush up. Where were they? You haven’t used them since last winter. You search in your closet, crouching to see if you can find the labeled bin. Hands digging deep into the space, you’re so concentrated on trying to find the mitts that you don’t even hear the knocking on the door. 

You do hear small mutterings of your mother down the stairs, but can’t make it out too well. You shrug, assuming she was just talking to your father anyway. 

“Oh my- yes yes, of course, come in. You must be freezing, poor dear.” 

Ah! There they are! Stuffed in between your summer shorts and sandals. Guess you must’ve disorganized them along the way. 

“Got them!” You walk downstairs with your head down, holding the mitts in your hand. You turn to set them on the table and cease the movement, eyes widened in shock. Your heart nearly leaps to your tight throat, and your stomach is anxiously swarming.

“What’s he doing here?” You look to your mom who just allowed your worst nightmare to come in. He’s panting, looking at you with determined eyes, his brows furrowed and his expression serious. 

“Don’t be rude (Y/n). He came to see you. You don’t expect me to leave him out there in the cold do you?” She waves you off and walks to the kitchen to leave you two peering at another. You’re about to turn away to run back up the stairs, and he shouts out, “Wait!” You stop in your tracks, pursing your lips, eyes shut. 

“Can we just talk.. please?” Your fingers are holding onto the railing, your right foot at the first step. Don’t look, don’t listen, just leave. 

You turn around to face him, and his eyes widen a little. You turn to your mother who is making herself busy, and you gesture your head up the stairs. Were you really going to do this again? Why? Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you sending him out, shoving him away, and saying leave me alone?

He nods quickly and follows. Once the door closes you whip around to him, crossing your arms firmly. “Why are you here?” 

You’re taken aback at his exhaustion, he’s panting, and his blonde hair is a little disheveled. He’s a mess, and you’re confused, he’s always so well put together with that plastered smirk that said “I’m better at everyone at everything, and I know it.” 

You bite your lip, some guilt settling in your chest as you wait for him to catch his breath. 

Eventually, he brushes his hair to the side, breathing deeply and fixating calmly on you. “Listen, I know you don’t want to talk to me. I know you don’t like me.. for good reasons.” You remain quiet, nodding to his words. He thinks a second before speaking again. 

"But I didn't hurt Kiyoko or anyone else." You squint your eyes and he stumbles over his words. "Maybe I indirectly started it after I called her some mean things, but I wasn't the one who did that, like they did to you." You're humming as you think. You aren't sure if that pleases you.

He suddenly gestures low for a bow and you flinch a little at the fast movement. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. I'll do better, i'll make it up to you I promise.” You’re shocked at this change of heart and he continues, sputtering a little.

“I hope you can forgive me, it doesn’t have to be now.. just someday.. and I'll do whatever it takes to regain your trust, and if you still decide that I am not worthy of it in the end.. " He pauses. "That’s okay.. I’ll understand.” 

You don’t even know what to say, but those are the last words you expected. He really felt.. sorry? Was that even possible? No that wasn’t right, this must be a ploy. Frankly, you don't get why he wants your trust so badly in the first place, but you’re kind of flattered. 

Though.. Atsumu wouldn't lie would he? He’s hardly the type to even feel guilty over tears, he’d never stoop so low to beg for forgiveness if he didn’t want to. He is a jerk and he even admitted that, but he can’t be serious, can he?  

Standing straight again, his serious expression alone proves you as wrong as can be, and he’s desperately scanning your expression, looking for any possible emotion. You quietly turn your head to the side, mind still mulling over the current scene.

When he recognizes the absence of words, he bows again, this time politely. “That’s.. all I wanted to say, I will leave now.” He turns his back to you, signaling his movement. The door opens and he’s about to step out, and you have a voice that’s screaming at you to stop him before it’s too late. 

“Wait.”

He stops and looks at you expectantly, and you inhale deep. You shouldn’t be saying this, but you are. 

“Apologize to Kiyoko too.” He grimaces like you just uttered the most foul words in existence. 

He breaks out with a, “Huh?” 

“Apologize to her, and the other girls.” 

Again, he repeats even louder. “What?” 

You press your hands against your waist, frustrated he isn't understanding. 

“Apolo-“ 

“No, I heard you.” He presses a hand to his forehead and sighs.

"Why?" He asks, and you breathe deep.

"Because.. even if they started it.. I know how it feels, and I never want anyone to go through that."

It wasn’t exactly what he expected when he said he’d do anything for your trust, but he'd still do it for your sake. Although he might not agree with the choice, he can understand the need to have peace in your mind.

“Promise.” Your tone is firm and you’re pointing at him with your pinky. “Promise you’ll do it and be nice." You don’t even know why you expect him to agree and follow through, but you oddly trusted him.

The idea of apologizing to those girls of all people makes him grumble under his breath. He presses his pinky into yours and locks it, his voice filled with reluctance, “Yeah, I promise.” 

“Good.” You nod, and when it gets silent again you clear your throat. "So.. do you want to stay for dinner?"

He gently laughs and shoves back the idea of what he'd have to do later.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiles genuinely and you nod.

Dinner is only awkward for a few seconds until your mother begins speaking to Atsumu. They laugh amongst each other and a small tug pries your lips.

The conversation stops as the front door opens and closes. Your father walks in and your mother claps her hands in excitement. He makes eye contact with Atsumu and they greet one another very politely. You’re suddenly anxious as your dad takes a seat beside you. He has a firm expression and presence, but it eases into pleasantness as holds his hand out to Atsumu.

“Atsumu right? I heard a lot about you, nice to meet you.” Atsumu shakes his hand and glimpses your way.

“Heard a lot about me?”

You know what he’s thinking and you turn a small shade of pink, glaring at your mom whose stifling a laugh. Your dad joins in the laughter, even Atsumu, and you’re beet red. You aren’t the one always talking about him.  

“We’re just teasing (Y/n).” Your mom waves and you huff, forcing more food into your mouth. 

“So tell me Atsumu, what’s your favorite food?” Your mom asks for no particular reason and you cough. 

“Anything you make for (Y/n) is enough to keep me happy.” He responds pleasantly and your mom presses a hand to her chest. 

“What a charmer.”

You're planning on rolling your eyes when you look at him. But you're surprised the way he seems so genuine. Most cases he is confident and smug, but the way he grins so happily right now shows you that you're wrong.

You avert from the scene and you can see him gazing at you longingly in your peripheral. Your cheeks dust pink.

The room gradually cascades with laughter, and your stomach flutters whenever he makes your parents laugh. 

When it’s time for him to go, he politely thanks them for the meal and says his farewell. They let you walk him out. He steps outside and you’re fidgeting a little with your fingers. “Um so.. I’ll see you..” 

He beams and rotates. “Yeah. Cya (Y/n)”  

“Don’t forget the promise!!” You call out and even if it makes him sigh, he answers “I won’t.” 

You close the door, walk to your room, and lay in the bed. Gazing at the ceiling you think of the scene that just transpired. Shoving your face into the pillow, a loud squeal escapes, and your legs dangle like a schoolgirl. 

You did it. You actually fell for the jerk Miya Atsumu. 

When it's Monday, you're nervous yet excited to finally get the peace you so crave and to prove to your heart that he is a good person.

He's dreading when he glances to Kiyoko. She’s visibly scared in her seat as he approaches her. "Hey." He starts, a little too aggressively right off the bat. You clear your throat, signaling him to be aware.

Exhaling a sigh, he presses his hand behind his neck. "Come on, you guys too." They all stand and jitter nervously, and you tail behind them.

They look like kicked puppies, and in a way it almost makes you feel pitiful.

He walks to the same terrible corridor you had frequented for those dreadful days. You remember the way they would dump food on you and kick you, yet even if it slightly hurt to witness what you're forcing him to do when.. you know it'll be worth it in the end. Finally he stops, and you do the same. Atsumu shuffles uncomfortably, like unsure he was going to get this far. They look freaked out and tense as planks while waiting.

He grits his teeth and sucks in every little bit of pride he has. "I'm sorry." Everyone blanks at the tone. It was a bit forced, but you suppose it had to do.

They're confused, unsure if this was some trick before you appear at his side and elbow him lightly. He's peering at you with a look that says “I have to say more?"

Grumbling and huffing, he continues, “sorry for treating you the way I did. I won’t do it again.” The apology comes out so eerily even they cringe. That was harder to force out than anything he’s said in his life, and that said a lot.

His eyes zone in on Kyoko mainly. She's bewildered and you wriggle awkwardly. The tension is worse than when you were forced to work with him on the project the first day. It's quiet and you touch his arm, forcing him to look at you with a certain gaze. You signal for him to leave them alone.

"Lets go."

He exhales a sigh, and his hand presses against your shoulder. Even in this weird scene you're blushing at the action. The girls are staring at you like deers in headlights, their mouths agape, slack jawed and stuck. The struggle to not send them a threat shooting down their spines had him walking away a lot faster than you would've thought and he's gone before you know it.

You awkwardly walk pass the group whose heads follow you like dolls. "Atsumu!" You call out, sprinting and panting down the halls.

He's grumbling to himself, speaking nonsensically and because of the height difference, his steps are like twice of yours. "Wait up!" He finally pauses, and turns to you surprised when he sees you holding your hands to your knees, exhausted.

He wants to be annoyed at you, but its hard to frankly, and when you're done heaving, you press your hand to him. He twitches a little and you look to him with wide twinkling orbs. "Thank you for doing that."

He blinks at you and pulls back nervously, a stammer in his chest. "Y-Yea.. no problem."

Suddenly every bit of him is glad it worked out this way.

As the days pass, you've been gradually getting more comfortable with him. You've been exchanging bentos, teasing another, sharing advice about volleyball(mainly on his side), and walking each other to practice. And Kiyoko wasn't sending you glares that much anymore which was nice.

You’re packing up your things as slowly as usual, and Sumu is stretching, complaining. “We’re gonna be late for practicee (Y/n).”

 “Then goo.” 

Atsumu huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You catch a side glance of Kiyoko who is still in class, feigning patience as she anxiously looks towards you and back. It could just be your imagination, but it looks like she might want to say something.

You angle your head toward her subtlety and he understands, fixating on the sight. She jolts at just the glimpse and is finding things to touch and direct her attention to. He gives you an annoyed look and you shoo him away.

If it wasn’t for appeasing you on this promise, he probably would be giving her hell right now you're sure. You pat him on the shoulder, practically begging with your eyes, and he nearly rolls his. Exhaling in defeat he points to the door.

“I’ll be outside.”

It’s a weird tension when he’s gone. You should've been timid and scared but you're not. Perhaps it’s because of Mr. fussy outside, or maybe because you just feel better about the situation and you're ready to hear what she has to say.

She walks to you very slowly and keeps her lips separated as she thinks. “So… um..” 

“I did a lot of bad things to you..” She’s biting her lip and she speaks vaguely, either too ashamed or hesitant to confront you. You purse your lips when it gets silent, beginning to writhe at the heaviness.

“Your mom’s cooking really wasn’t that bad, I just.. wanted to be mean.. among other things..” She trails her words like there's more. Her voice gets real low, but you hear it, and she says "Sorry.."

It's a small pause before she continues, “I’d.. um.. probably be getting the same treatment.. if.. um..” she’s clearly struggling to elaborate, for fear perhaps it’d be too pitiful or embarrassing.

Her voice gets lower and she’s fixated on the corner of the room. 

“I appreciate it.. Thanks..” 

You awkwardly respond with a nod.

She mimics that motion, then grabs her things and timidly sprints off. Surely she met Atsumu on the way out, and hopefully, nothing is said between the two. A small contempt smile is on your face. You're happy.

Before you can even finish walking out the door hands instantly meet your shoulders. You’re abruptly whirled around to meet Atsumu who is filled with concern. 

“Did she do anything?” His hands touch your chin, moving it directly yet gently to the left, then to the right, up, and down. He's carefully examining the way your strands are positioned to see if it differed from when he left, if there's a crinkle in your clothes, if your skin is touched, anything he could possibly notice. 

You playfully slap his fingers away. “I’m fine Sumu, nothing happened. We just talked.” 

His eyes raise, and he doesn't look like he believes you. “You just talked?” You nod shyly.  

“About what?” He’s trying to hide the small irritation in his voice but you can tell it’s just slightly there. You supposed it was reasonable though. 

You want to tell him, but for the sake of her privacy (and pride mainly) you say “… Girl things.” 

He still doesn’t seem to believe you but he hums anyway. “Nothin' bad?” You hold your pinky out to him. 

“Promise.” 

You two would then stroll to the gymnasiums, and Lucy would greet the both of you before you'd separate and begin conversing. Then when practice would finish you found that you had been bolting out the door much faster than anyone and shouting, “Bye! See you tomorrow!” 

You'd rush to meet with the twins who usually were just beginning to walk out. Atsumu would grin at you, and you’d blush as you talk to him, pushing stray hair behind your ear. He walked you home like usual, sometimes even greeting your mother who will try to (always) invite him to dinner.

He might make some excuse and say he’s busy, or.. secretly your favorite, when he decides to stay and sometimes even hang out with you in your room to do homework together. But nothing else came of it, just homework. You enjoyed the time together when he and you would sit very close, quietly writing, reveling in the peace. 

Luckily today was one of those days. 

Atsumu likes concentration, he is oddly very silent and focused when he works. The only time he would get a little annoyed is when there were unnecessary sounds, like pens clicking too much or chatter. You understood that, so it’s easy for you two to work together.

Yet even when you two are starting at the same time, he manages to do it very quickly once he gets himself in the moment. This skill he had made it so that he was always done first, and from there he would typically head off since it’d always be like 8 or so. That always made your heart drop a little. 

This time though, he sits on your bed and yawns. You blink at him confused, and he gestures you over. “Let’s watch a movie.” Your heart thumps at the idea, but you remember there's still work sitting on your desk. 

“I still have a bit more to do..”  

“It’s Friday, I’m confident you can get it done before Monday.” He teases and you avert your attention to the worksheets left. It wasn’t that much, that’s true. You could just do it tomorrow. 

He’s a bit more gentle with his tone when he speaks. “I’ll make it up to you if you don’t get it done, promise.” 

“Okay..” 

You sit near him but not too near. You're unsure if he wants you close in this case. You never actually sat next to him without being in chairs. It was kind of strange.

Your stomach is blooming with nervous butterflies again, and your heart is racing at the idea of just being on the bed with him. Atsumu grabs the remote and pulls you out of your daze. 

“Any picks?” 

“Um... maybe a comedy?” He’s a little taken aback by that choice but then shrugs, a casual smirk returning. 

“Comedy it is.” 

He picks a random movie, and settles into his spot comfortably. On the other hand, you’re tense in yours, and perhaps a foot or so away from him.

“What are you so nervous lookin' about?" Sumu nudges.

“You’re not gonna bite me?” You joke, and he laughs, easing your anxiety quickly. You make an excuse to shuffle a little closer to him as you move into “comfort” as well. 

“Unless you want me to. No," he says jokingly. You quiet, a blush forming. Just like how you sit beside another in the chairs, your knee is nearly touching his, but without a sort of barrier.. this feels almost closer. 

The movie starts and you side-eye him, watching as his attention is on the TV. You look away and attempt to mimic. He does the same once you focus ahead, examining you for more than a few before averting. The movie is quick to make you both snicker in your seats. Still, for almost half an hour, you’re struggling to pay attention, you’re just so focused on how he feels next to you. Safe and.. warm. 

He leans in a little closer. You fail to notice and yawn. He blinks down at you, moving back. “Tired?” 

You mumble “A little bit.” 

“Want me to pause it for now?” He waits for your answer and your lips purse. If you say yes he might leave, you can’t waste this moment on tiredness. He’s right, it’s Saturday tomorrow, you can relax all you want then. 

“(Y/n).” He calls and you’re still lost in thought. 

Suddenly his fingers gently turn your chin, and when you blink back to reality, he’s very close to you. He’s so pretty too.

After a second or two you instantly pull back. “Oh, sorry, yes… you can do that.” He nods and pauses it. For some reason, his expression is a little defeated, but you're not sure why. He stands up and you know where this is going.

“It’s getting late, so.. time for me to go home.” He fakes a stretch and you nod. 

“I’ll walk you out.” 

Before he leaves you call out to him. “Hey..”

“Let’s finish that movie okay?” 

He smiles at that. 

Over the next few weeks, the same still repeated. You hung out a little more, but it was nothing too different, just small closeness and intimate lunch moments for 30 minutes. Though lately you find yourself confused and saddened when he refuses to come in. He’s politely said no to your mother nearly all of the time now. 

“Does he like me, Mom? What do you think? Why won’t he come in?” You anxiously groan, pressing your hands to your face at the 20th imaginary scenario that plays. 

“I’m sure he does sweetie, I just think he needs some time to think about it.” She’s washing the dishes while you groan. 

“Think about if he likes me? If he has to think about it, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t?” 

“No, that doesn’t mean that.” 

“Then what does it mean?” 

She sighs a little. 

Before you were always quiet about the details, embarrassed even, but now you are so frustrated and scared you just won’t stop talking. 

Did you do something wrong? No, you still ate lunch together most of the day. He still walked with you after volleyball, (even if occasionally he’s been making more excuses). So what was it? 

Atsumu was more than a little disappointed after that day at your house. He finally made a move, and you were not the slightest bit interested. After all that time together he thought maybe you’d reciprocate, at least a tiny bit. You might’ve still thought of him as a bully which was a sucky thought, even if fair. 

He loses focus in practice today, setting a little too high, a little too low, serving into the net, and sometimes missing completely. That was completely new for him, and he had to say, it blew more than he thought. 

“Hey,” Osamu points at him. "You set way too high there this time. One more mess up and you owe me."

Atsumu groans loudly.

“Why are you so mopey lately?” Michinari asks.

“He thinks he blew it with his crush,” Osamu answers and his twin nearly kicks him in his side. Shinsuke walks behind them, and the aura alone is enough to make them stop fighting. 

Hitoshi gasps as if Atsumu being in love is so uncharacteristic. “You have a crush?!” 

Rintaro rolls his eyes. “Just talk to her.” 

Aran pats the setter’s shoulder. “Just proclaim your love man, it’s a whole lot better than overthinking.” 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Shinsuke asks, completely oblivious. “If she doesn’t like you, then it just means you can move on and not have to worry about it anymore.” Although painfully realistic, it strikes something in Atsumu.

His expression shifts and he nods firmly. If you declare you don’t like him, then the ache in his chest will move on and he won’t have to deal with this anxiety anymore. 

This was it then, this was going to be the day he asked you. 

Practice runs a little later than usual and he makes sure to run out as fast as possible to see you walking kind of mopey. “Hey, (Y/n)!” Atsumu calls to you, making you rotate. 

Your eyes instantly lighten, and you grin. “Sumu!” 

He returns the smile. “Practice good?” He asks. 

“It was good! It was good. I’d say I can teach you some things now.” You lightly jab, poking him.

He scoffs, “Once you finally receive my serve, I’ll think about it.”

His hand mockingly pats your head to measure the height difference, and you pout, face a little pink. The rest of the walk is filled with both of you play-fighting with each other and teasing until you reach your house. 

You’re silent, shuffling as to delay the inevitable.

“So.. do you want to come in..?” You ask, a hopeful trail at the end of your word. You’re sure he’s going to say no. 

“Yup, I can do that today.” 

“That’s o- wait-“ you gasp, “really?!” 

He smiles, enamored at your excitement. 

“I’m free all night.” 

Butterflies are shooting, and you’re secretly hopping as you open the door.

“Welcome ho- oh! Atsumu! It’s been so long, how are you?” Your mother greets. 

“Evening miss (L/n), just been busy is all.” Atsumu is politely smiling and you dazzle.  

“It happens. Dinner isn’t ready, so you guys can do your work and I’ll call you after.”  

You nod, and he does the same before you bolt off to your room. 

His heart is probably stammering faster than yours now.

“Want to finish that movie?” You ask gleefully. 

He chuckles and answers, "really? No workin' today?"

Seeing it as a rejection, you can’t help but slump in defeat, instantaneously frowning. The scene breaks his heart a little and he rushes to respond with better words before you cut him off.

“No- we can, I just thought- maybe- well.. yeah- never mind. After though?” You’re staring at him with big eyes, and he is smiling sweetly again.

“Unless you have to go after, which is fine, that’s okay.” He shuts you up by placing his hand on your arm, and you blink up at him through your lashes so prettily it makes him hold his breath. 

“Yes, that’s fine.” 

Quickly nodding, you impatiently sit down at your desk and gesture for him to do the same. 

“Listen (Y/n)..” Atsumu has a tone in his voice that sounds serious, maybe scared, and you turn, pursing your lips. A sudden nervousness washes over you. 

“Yeah..?” 

When he sees your sad expression he zips his lips. “Nothing, never mind.” 

“Okay..” you say, unconvinced. He takes a seat next to you, and a blush dusts your cheeks. You really miss this.

Eventually, it becomes comfortable again, and you're pointing to your phrases and looking to him for advice. Truthfully it was sort of an excuse to keep talking to him before he might leave in a few. "Is this good?" You ask.

"Yup." He'd say, and then purposely you'll talk about grammar or other subjects to get him going. But today he wasn't really responsive, he looked tense and felt strange. He was fidgeting, which is never much his thing, and half the time he wasn't working. When you turn to him, his eyes are always lost in thought, contemplating blankly while his pen is unmoving.

You'd occasionally ask, "Are.. you okay Sumu..?"

"Hm? Oh, yea, I'm good." He'd shake himself out of the strange fixation and get back to work like nothing happened.

Your heart falls a little. Maybe he just doesn't want to hang out with you.

"Um.. listen.. (Y/n)." He finally turns to you after a long hour of silence. His tone is more serious again, and you're terrified he's going to say what you hope to not be true. You wait for him to talk, but your patience is thinning as he opens his mouth, closes it, opens, and closes, and you spit out, "Do you want to leave?"

"Wha- no no, it's um.." He clears his throat and he presses his hands together.

"I.. like you (Y/n)."

It takes a second or two before the words sink in, and you're frozen. What?

As in platonic right? Or..

He’s desperately searching for your reaction, waiting to see either reciprocation or disgust. Your mind is rushing for what to think but it's empty. His stomach starts to drop when he doesn’t receive a reply, and he assumes that means denial. His body sinks and the disappointment is clear in his face. 

The silence is disturbed by a shaky inhale. You ask, “What… do you mean?”

Atsumu opens his mouth to speak but keeps it slightly agape, his gaze glued to you. 

“Like.. love, (Y/n). I love you.” 

He's aching to see any clear expression again and your eyes widen in surprise. You feel weightless, there's an explosion in your head and you're unable to think.

"I.." he's holding his breath as you sputter nervously.

"I um.." he's nodding, biting his lower lip and waiting impatiently.

"I.. love you too.."

He's now mimicking your past emotions, and it goes quiet.

You start, "So.. does that mean..um.." you're mumbling now, too anxious to finish the question.

"You'll be my girlfriend?" He asks, and you twinkle up at him. His eyes look so vibrant even in the dim lighting, and his hair falls a little at his face. You move to shyly brush it back, pushing closer to him.

He takes this as a move, and suddenly his lips are pressed into yours. You're frozen for a moment but ease into it quickly. It's like fireworks went off in your brain, and you answer a breathless "Yes," as he pulls away.

“I’m glad..” Atsumu finally lets out a small laugh, and you share in it, your face a fuming pink.

"Do you.. want to finish that movie now?" You shyly ask, and he nods, grinning.

Your bodies are huddled close to each other, his arm wrapped around you. You're leaning into the warmth as the light from the TV flickers. A lingering smile is shared and you turn to him. Your eyes meet and you're already instinctively moving. A kiss is shared again, this time longer and deeper. Your breath hitches when it ends, but you're smiling, and so is he. Hearts softly thumping against one another.

This is finally the peace you wanted.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Just remembered the fallen god reader thingy- what if reader just one day regains their power ;)) and then just leaves them, I'm like super offended ;(( I dont wanna be mistreated by them

ahaha this ask made me chuckle a little! unfortunately my version of yandere archons aren't sweet in every scenario, i do still hope you enjoy though! :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of being held against ones will, mentions of manipulation, mentions of violence, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Venti:

Well, he certainly can’t just let you leave, not after all that hard work he put into nursing you back to health. No no, don’t you see, you owe him. You could try and claim he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, I mean he’s an Archon, a god just like you, doesn’t he see how unjust it is to demand payment?

You could beg and plead all you want, but unless your powers are enough to break the elemental barriers he’s set up, then I’m afraid you’re trapped. He won’t mistreat you, he’ll be nice and sweet to you so long as you behave, but your freedom will forever be removed.

“It’s not fair you say? A lot of things in this world aren’t fair, it’s just how it is.” His bright smile and humorous laugh do little to settle your unrest. No matter how hard you begged, how fast the tears poured from your eyes, or how strained your voice became from constant pleading, nothing worked. Perhaps if you learned to behave he’d let you see the sun again, until then, think long and well about all he had done for you. Remember exactly just how much you owe him for the things he’s done for you.

Zhongli:

He finds it curious that your powers have suddenly returned, but it does little to change his authority over you. Regardless of the strength you show or possess, Zhongli has ingrained into your mind just how weak and pathetic you are. You are nothing without him, your silly little powers mean nothing if you aren’t here with him. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see that you need him?

There’s little that would change about the dynamic between the two of you, if anything it just gives Zhongli an excuse to be around you more. His eyes seem to always be observing you now, watching keenly to ensure you don’t dare step out of line. There will be consequences if you should try.

“Dinner is done, come eat.” His tone is warm, but there’s a familiar sense of sternness in the undertone. Since the resurgence of your powers, Zhongli had made sure to remind you of your place below him. It didn’t matter how hard you fought, the elder god showed little remorse when overpowering you. It was astounding to think that even after the loss of his gnosis he could still hold such power over you, but then again, Morax wasn’t known as the War God for nothing.

Raiden:

She doesn’t believe you at first, those who lose their divinity are not simply granted it back. It would take a long while and many displays of your capabilities to convince her. It doesn’t much change her opinion of you though. Raiden still thinks you are foolish and weak to have lost your powers to begin with. And for that, you should suffer the consequences.

Every escape attempt or effort put in to fight back is quickly shut down. She doesn’t even let you build up the hope that you’ll be able to land a hit before she’s got you disarmed, pinned, and once more shown your place beneath her. It gets a bit frustrating, having to always correct your silly outburst.

“When will you learn that you are nothing compared to me? You should be grateful I have enough decency to put up with this behavior, if you were anyone else I’d have tossed you to the streets like the pathetic waste you seem keen on acting like.” Her words are as rough and painful as her hold on you is. She has you under her, pinned to the floor in the living room of her home. It’s an embarrassing sight, your face held down to the hardwood as she scolds you like a child. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but Raiden had hoped that by now you’d have learned your lesson. She is getting incredibly fed up with you.

Furina:

Your return of power puts her in a tough position because before when you were powerless, she had something to hold over your head. Now, you hold the power and she’s left to flounder.

There isn’t much she can do to keep you from leaving, sobbing on her knees as you walk towards the front door. It wasn’t fair, it wasn't fair that you got to get back what you lost, it wasn’t fair that you got to still be connected to divinity when she was cut entirely from it. 

“Please, please don’t leave me…” Furina kneels on the ground, hands balled into fists as she begs and sobs. She can just barely see the sides of your shoes as you walk past, disregarding her as you head for the front door. When she’s sure you’re not looking she ceases her crying, the tears were fake from the start. Reaching for the pipe she hid under the couch, she silently grabs it before standing. It was easier to hit you, having stopped in the doorway to admire your freedom, you had been too caught up to hear the soft patter of her footsteps behind you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

You don’t often miss work, but that week, a burst pipe throws everything off. A morning spent waiting on your landlord, then the next few hours for a plumber, has things a bit off kilter. Even the next day, you’re not quite back on point. 

The patched wall next to fridge reminds you of the disaster and a dingy smell persists. You hope it doesn’t cling to you as you set off for your shift that day. If you can, you want to pick up some hours from others if their up for grabs. Harry doesn’t like Saturday’s, maybe he’ll hand over some. 

You try to leave your problems behind as you catch a bus down to the city centre. You get to the tea shop five minutes before the hour. Jenna’s wrapping up the opening tasks as you go to leave your things in the back. You tie on your apron and unlock the front door for the first customers of the day. 

At first, it’s a trickle. Never very much at all. The early risers who often come alone or if they aren’t, they don’t speak much or very loudly. The smell of fresh baking and the slow rising sun add to the lazy din. 

“Thought the special was strawberry today,” you comment as you transfer macarons from a cooled tray to the display. 

“Eh, it was but we didn’t have enough jam,” she shrugs. “Changed the sign, is all.” 

“Ah, thought my mind was lagging again. Everything’s been off since yesterday.” 

“Eh, how’s the apartment, anyhow? Marilyn said it was something about a leak?” 

“Burst pipe,” you explain, “they took out the wall above the sink, buncha clanging all day. When I tell you this place is like heaven.” 

She chuckles, “can be.” 

“There’s a formal tea booked in the Marigold Room at noon,” she intones, “forgot to mention that. With Mother’s day coming up, suppose we’ll get more bookings.” 

“Suppose,” you go to check the schedule hanging on the wall. “Party of twelve, wow.” 

“I’ll man the till. Honest, since those ladies at New Years, I’ve hated doing them.” 

“No problem, Harry should be here, shouldn’t he?” 

“Well, he’s... called in.” 

“Again?” You whine as you face her. 

“Are you really surprised?” She scoffs. 

“No one else to cover? Not even Louisa?” 

“Nah, she’s on holiday still.” 

You huff, “fine. Not much of a choose then, is it?” 

🫖

The tea room is as close to raucous as you’ve ever heard it. You have your back to the rest of the shop as you balance the stacked serving trays with an array of sponge cake, fruit, and biscuits. It’s the typical assortment for a tea party booking. 

You’ve already served the tea and the sandwiches, and dessert is the last bit, along with any further pots needed to be steeped throughout. With a partner, it isn’t hard to keep up, but alone, it’s rather overwhelming. Jenna does her best to assist but there aren’t many lulls around lunch time. 

Beyond that, the tourists are chatty. You could hardly get away to fetch each course as they wanted to chat about the culture and your suggestions of what they should do next. It’s nice that they’re friendly but still stressful. 

You put the trays on the cart and roll it around the counter. As you do, you nearly skid to a halt. In the rush, you hadn’t noticed him. Your eyes meet Raymond’s as he watches you. Intent, intense. You give an apologetic smile and nod in acknowledgement. Jenna wanted to deal with the main room, she’ll have to wipe down his table and do her best. 

You roll behind the wall and into the Marigold room. You present the tray and grab it by the ring at the top, lifting it onto the centre of the table. You roll around to gather the empty plates and cups, taking two pots for refill. 

You come back out and see Raymond standing, just as he was. He sees you too. Watching, hands folded, knuckles white, jaw set. He’s usually patient but you don’t know how long he’s been waiting. 

You roll behind the counter and sigh, clearing off the cart as Jenna steams a tea latte. 

“Can you wipe Raymond’s table?” You ask. 

“Who?” She furrows her brow. 

You glance over your shoulder toward the man in question and she follows. She rolls her eyes, “I tried, I wiped the the table. He didn’t sit.” 

“Hm, well... did you wash your hands first?” 

“Christ Almighty, what is he a child?” 

“Jen, he’s just... you know, my mom’s the same. He can’t help it.” 

“You can deal with him. I won’t be arsed,” she sniffs, “he was rude and you know I don’t got time for those ones.” 

“Jenna, I’m kinda up to my eyes,” you dump the used bags from a pot. “I know he can be prickly but just wash your hands and redo the table.” 

“Ugh, fine,” she sneers, “but you owe me.” 

“Let’s call it even,” you retort as you pour boiling water into the pots mouth. 

She shakes her head and huffs, “guess it is.” 

🫖

It’s nearly three in the afternoon. It’s quiet. Harry’s on his phone instead of doing the cups and your wiping the empty tables to keep yourself moving. The door opens and you glance over to make sure Harry’s alert. He’s not. 

Doesn’t matter. It’s him. Raymond. You stand and clutch the cloth tight in your hand as you greet him. 

“Be right with you, Raymond,” you assure him. 

He barely looks at you as he goes to wait next to his table. You go behind the counter and mutter under your breath in Harry’s direction, “...dirty cups.” You wash your hands and make sure to clink some of the empty porcelain in an effort to draw your coworker’s attention. He’s still entranced by his phone. 

You take the disinfectant wipes and go back out. You approach Raymond as he checks his watch. 

“How are you today?” You ask. 

He grumbles and shrugs, “fine.” 

“English Breakfast, black,” you declares as you finish wiping up, “usual.” 

“So you remember,” he challenges as he steps close, closer than ever, before sidling around to sit. 

“Of course, I always do,” you smile. 

“And last time?” 

“Last time...” 

“Twice.” 

You’re confused. What is he talking about? 

“I came on Tuesday and you weren’t here. Then on Thursday, you didn’t even say hello.” 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Raymond, it was a busy day. Tuesday, I had a personal emergency so I didn’t even know you’d been in--” 

“I’ll have my tea now,” he interjects tersely. 

“Right, tea,” you confirm and spin around. 

“Crooked strings,” he remarks dully, “again.” 

[heartsforvin]

facetime sex with vinnie since they are a long distance couple

FUN OVER THE PHONE

thank you for the request !! i hope you enjoy <3

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, cussing, lmk if i missed anything !

summary; long distance can be rough on people, thankfully you and vinnie know how to ease the tension

fresh out of the shower, you wrap the towel around you and walk to open the bathroom door slightly to air out the bathroom a bit.

you lived alone so you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing you naked. after opening the door, you start your night routine, skin care, brushing your hair and your teeth, and just getting ready for the night.

as soon as you finish up, you drop the towel to put on your pajama clothes but are soon interrupted by your phone ringing.

“hey ba—oh,” vinnie stops mid sentence when he realizes you’re not in frame. “sweetheart?”

you peak your head above the counter just enough for the blonde to see you. “hi my love.”

you finish putting on your top while you hear vinnie talking, making you laugh to yourself.

when you jump back up into the camera view, vinnie has a wide smile across his face.

“nice panties, princess.” vinnie smirks, making you cover your front as if he hasn’t seen you naked before.

although, that was months ago. you and vinnie are long distance, he’s in LA while you’re in seattle for college.

it’s rough at times, but it makes seeing each other in person a lot more special.

“shut up and come tear them off me.” you don’t know where the confidence came from since you just tired to shield yourself moments ago, but vinnie smiles.

“that something you want?” his tone is teasing, you know what he wants, and you want it too.

walking to your room, you set your phone against something so vinnie can see you fully.

you stand in front of your phone, the smirk on vinnie’s face never leaves as he watches you pick up the waistband of your panties and pull it down a bit.

pulling them back up to rest on your waist, you can tell vinnie’s rolling his eyes at you right now.

“wish you were here.” vinnie says breathlessly, and you can only imagine what he’s doing on the other end of the phone.

you crawl onto your bed and get under the covers. “you just wanna rip my clothes off and fuck me senseless.” you tell him matter of factly.

vinnie groans. “not true,” he says. “maybe a little.” you then hear him whisper.

“i heard that, hacker.” you tell him, smiling as you do.

the two of you sit in silence for a minute before you hear a faint whine on the other end of the line.

you wait a moment to see if vinnie would say something but he doesn’t. “baby?” you ask.

the noise is heard again but louder, making you smile and realize what he’s doing. “vin, look up.” you say, and he does as told, looking up at you.

“holy shit,” he breathes out once he sees you had propped your phone up against something on your bed. “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

you were kneeling on your bed with nothing covering you, on full display for the man on the other end of the phone.

the smile never leaves his face as he watches you slowly move your hands down your body, wishing it was him touching you like that.

you hear shuffling from the other end and smirk, moving your hands farther down your body until you reach the place that needs the most attention.

vinnie watches as you move your hand lower and lower until you reach the end, that’s when he stops you before you can even do anything, and says. “play with your tits for me.”

the way he says it makes you even more wet than you already are. moving your hands back up your body, you see vinnie smile when you push and squeeze your tits together.

“fuck,” the man on the other line moans, and you can hear the wet sounds as he does, making you more needy. “so good for me, sweetheart.”

you give vinnie a sweet smile then go back to what you were originally doing. you look up at your phone to see your boyfriend with his head back and eyes closed, giving you the prettiest sight.

pushing a finger into yourself, you gasp when you do, making vinnie open his eyes and look at what’s in front of him. he watches you intently, wishing it could be him making you feel good.

all that could be heard is the wet sounds from either end of the call and profanities being moaned out.

“that’s it, pretty girl,” you hear vinnie praise, making you speed up your actions along with him. “look so pretty like this while you moan my name.”

it takes everything in you to not let go right there, you’re not ready to yet, and you can tell vinnie isn’t either.

you watch as his actions speed up, his breathing becoming more erratic, and his head slowly lulling back onto his pillow.

when vinnie realizes he stopped hearing you, he opens his eyes and looks at you. “like this, sweet girl?” he asks in a teasing tone. “like watching me get off to the thought of you?”

you can’t help but let a moan slip, making the man smile. “yeah, i know you do.” he says, pace quickening.

a string of profanities and vinnie’s name rolls off your tongue when you hit a particularly good spot, making vinnie smirk at the camera. “you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

you bite your lip and nod your head but vinnie doesn’t take that as an answer. “words, my love.” he tells you.

trying your best to let actual words slip out, you say a faint ‘yes’ to which vinnie tells you that he can’t hear you.

you roll your eyes at your boyfriend and say the word a little louder, making vinnie smile.

“good girl,” he praises. “go on and cum for me, pretty. imagine it’s my cock you’re cumming all over…yeah, that’s it.” he talks you through it and pretty soon is right behind you.

the two of you come down from your highs, chests heaving and sweat dripping from your foreheads as you do.

you give vinnie a smile and all he wants to do now is cuddle you and kiss your pretty face.

“wish i could kiss you all over, my pretty girl.” he tells you, making your smile grow wider.

you want nothing more than that, but you two will see each other soon.

“i got something for you until then.” you tell him, and he already knows you’re up to something.

“yeah?” he questions. “what’s that?”

you lean up a bit and make sure your head is out of frame so it’s just your chest. you push your tits together once more and vinnie groans.

“gonna get me hard again, baby.” he warns, but it really isn’t a warning.

you giggle, getting back into frame so he can see you. “i love you, vin,” you say, making the man smile. “this was fun.”

he’s sad it’s coming to an end, but both of you have things to do in the morning and can’t talk all night, unfortunately .

“i love you too, princess. sweet dreams, my pretty girl.” he tells you.

the two of you blow each other kisses, saying one last ‘i love you’ and ‘goodnight’ before hanging up for the night.

i’m slacking I KNOW 🥲 but i finally got this out so here it is !!

also i know there’s a demand for more fluff, and there definitely will be, trust. but i also have like 3 or 4 other smut requests rn 😭

but the fluff WILL come, just gimme some time cus ya girl is busy busy

but i hope you all enjoyed, i rewrote it and i like this version better, so i hope you all do too !!

taglist: @forevergirlposts , @cosmicanakin , @lyndys , @lovingsturniolo , @slvthrs , @kriissy4gov , @laylasbunbunny , @kayleiggh , @hallecarey1 , @st4rswrld , @supabhad , @visualbutterflysworld , @leqonsluv3r

also thank you again for 300 followers !! i love you all sooooo much 🤍

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 4

Summary: A little (ok it's not very little this is 4k words) Rhysand x Reader training under the mountain

Content Warnings: Some suggestive content, nothing explicit, Rhysand is a tease and so am I, will get to the actual smut eventually ;)

Pt 1, 2, 3

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There’s water dripping somewhere, the splash against the copper tub echoing across the room in a steady enough rhythm it drags you from sleep. You’ve never been a morning person, especially after the last couple days, it takes everything in you to prop your head up on your hand, open an eye and try to figure out where the noise is coming from. With your luck there’s a leak, even enough to flood. You fully expect to find your slightly furnished prison to be underwater, your bed floating up towards the ceiling. It’s definitely a more reasonable answer than the truth. A flood in this ancient tomb makes sense, who knows how long these pipes had been here? But the violet eyed male sitting on the edge of the tub when you’d never heard the door open? You have no explanation for that.

“The dead sleep lighter than you,” Rhys says by way of greeting.

You drag your gaze to the door. It’s still shut, as if he’d walked right through it.

You pull the pillow over your head, it’s too early for all this nonsense. “Go away, Rhysand.” Maybe you shouldn’t be so flippant with him after the power he’d displayed last night, but you’re too exhausted to care.

“Rhysand?” He says like you’d cursed at him. “I thought we were friends?”

Friends? He doesn’t give you away to his evil Mistress one time and suddenly you’re friends? He’s as delusional as he is powerful and you can’t stop yourself from sliding an arm out from under the sheets to give him the finger.

“You wound me.”

You close your eyes and let sleep try and claim you again, the blissful darkness quiet for the first time in days, no Calanmai visions to haunt you. For a few hours you’d been able to forget where you were, why you were here, why the male hovering at the edge of your bed is here. Perhaps if you go back to sleep it’ll all be a terrible dream.

“You stink,” he says as he yanks the sheets off you and tosses them across the room.

You’re more bare than you’d like to be, still wearing that mud stained shift, too tired the night before to even attempt to get clean, you’d just crawled into bed and cried yourself to sleep. Conscious of your lack of dress, and suddenly very aware of the male’s gaze on your nearly exposed ass, you grab the edge of the pillow and swing at him with all the strength you can muster.

It’s apparently not a lot because Rhys catches it before the blow can lend and wrenches it from your grip. “We have a lot of work to do.”

“Eat shit,” you snarl.

“Not a morning person I take it?”

“You’re the most infuriating male I’ve ever met in my life,” you hiss as you crawl off the mattress.

Rhys grins, eyes glinting playfully. He likes this, you realize.

“I promise you’ll never find another male quite like me, Darling,” he retorts.

You look away from him, at the steam curling off the water in the tub, filled almost to the brim. A bath would be nice… but there’s no door, and Rhys is hovering like a puppy just given a new owner. There is no trace of the male you saw last night, the monster that laid beneath his skin.

“I don’t… have any other clothes,” you mumble, forgetting what you were talking about before.

He holds out a hand and a set of perfectly folded clothes appears in his outstretched palm. “I’m not a monster, I wouldn’t have you walk around naked. At least not out there,” he says with a wink.

“It’s too early for this,” you grumble as you take the clothes from his hand. There’s a pair of pants, socks and a sweater, both black, and surprisingly soft. You carry them into the bathroom on instinct, only remembering at the last moment that there is no door to give your privacy and he’s now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Will you leave now?”

“I’m in charge of training, remember? There’s no escaping me.”

“Is this training happening in the tub?”

His eyes gleam, “I can think of a few exercises.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. This version of him is better, better than watching him rip people apart with nothing but his mind, but he’s getting on your last nerve. You can’t remember the last time you’d eaten. He’s going to push you too far and the morning is only just getting started.

“Rhysand-”

“Fine, I’ll turn around,” he does so as dramatically as possible, but his back is finally to you.

There’s little else to do but strip and climb in. The water is blissfully warm, easing your stiff muscles, swallowing the chill that feels like it’s carved it’s way into your bones. You groan as you settle against the side, eyes drifting shut for a few moments so you can savor it for as long as possible.

 You’re not sure how long Rhysand’s civility will hold out, so you don’t wait too long before you grab the cheap soap and start scrubbing the grime from your skin. Truth be told, you’d need a good couple of baths to be completely clean, but you make the most with what you have before scrambling out and into your new clothes. They fit like they were made for you, everything the perfect length and size, and they’re warm. After spending so long in your shift, the chill of the mountain is beginning to feel permanent. This takes the edge off, just a little.

Rhys’s turns as you leave the bathroom like he’s been listening to your footsteps, two pastries in hand this time, one half eaten. “Hungry?”

“Where do you keep pulling this stuff out of?” You ask.

He eats the other half in one bite as he holds the other one out. “I’ve got deep pockets.”

You’re too hungry to care.

“Or pocket realms, I should say,” he amends as you take a bite. It’s not warm, if anything it’s a little stale, but there’s something sweet, maybe honey in the center, and it’s filling, easing the ache that’s been steadily growing in your stomach for awhile now.

“Thanks,” you say around a mouthful of the pastry.

He stands and brushes a piece of it off the corner of your mouth with his thumb, like he just can’t help himself. He’s always finding an excuse to touch you. “Can’t have you starving to death before we’re done with you, now can we?”

You frown at that. “Right, that. And here I was thinking you cared about my well being.”

“I can multitask,” he says.

You scarf down the rest of the pastry, manners be damned, “Let’s get this over with then.”

With a wave of the hand, the door opens to him. “Right this way, M’lady.”

“Nope, you’re definitely not calling me that,” you counter, biting down the obvious surprise that he’s letting you out of the room. After last night, you’d expected to be locked in your room until Amarantha deemed you ready--whatever that was supposed to mean--the chance to get out and explore with fresh eyes is a promising start to the day, Rhys’s company be damned. He’s been pleasant thus far, but you’re wary of how long it’ll hold out, you can’t waste any opportunity to explore by worrying about what he’ll do on his next whim.

The halls are scarred from your claws on them last night. You trace their path forward, before they veer left, opposite the way Rhys is leading. You make a mental note of the paths: Left will eventually lead to the throne room, right will be something for training?

Rhys is less chatty in the halls, hands deep in his pocket as he strolls ahead. It looks like he’s trying to be leisurely, but his shoulders are stiff, muscles tight, even if his pace is slow.

The path goes right for a long while, then rounds into a downward spiral. The torches are few and far between here and there’s something beneath the rock scratching and hissing. At one point you’re sure you hear screaming.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you wrap your arms around yourself. This place is creepy, a giant dungeon filled with monsters.

“Some place where you can’t accidentally bring the mountain down on our heads,” Rhys says.

“You’re very confident I have powers you can use,” you reply.

Rhys continues on, but says over his shoulder, “Why are you so sure you don’t?”

“Because…” Because what little has manifested has always been an uncontrolled mess that had a tendency to disappear just as quickly as it would come. Because your uncle had always made it sound like these things weren’t a big deal, they were something everybody had and grew into overtime. Because two days ago you were a simple girl with a simple life and you had liked that, and now suddenly that wasn’t true, you weren’t simple at all and never would be again.

Rhys slows until you’re walking side by side with him. “You shouldn’t have to be scared of what you are,” he says softly, like he thinks the walls might hear him.

Maybe that was part of the problem: What even are you?

The path levels out and straightens back into another hall, the ground more rocky here. A soft breeze whistles through a crack in the wall, but there is still no light to be seen.

Rhys stops at a door covered in ancient markings and pushes it open. The old stone creeks like it hasn’t been opened in centuries, a bit of dirt from the ceiling falling on your heads as you enter. The space is pitch black, the air stale.

“Is this the part where you turn into some giant monster and swallow me whole?” You ask in the darkness. It’s so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face, let alone him.

He chuckles from somewhere ahead of you as he lights one torch, then another. “If you’re a slow learner maybe.”

He uses the first torch to light two others, anchoring one in each corner of the large room. Like the throne room, the roof is held up by carved pillars, each one shaped like a warrior in battle. There’s a rack of old weapons against one wall, the wooden shelf holding it full of holes and sagging dangerously. A stack of training cushions has been stacked in the other, all coated heavily with dust. Some sort of old training room.

“I take it Amarantha doesn’t do much training,” you say as you step up to one of the carvings. Time and dust have worn down the face’s features, leaving one visible eye beneath what might have once been a helmet. The fae male had once been depicted with wings, but only one remains in tact, the other a pile of rubble collecting at it’s base.

“She doesn’t get many challengers,” Rhys says so low it’s almost a growl.

You turn to face him just in time to see the shadow that flashes across his face. He’s pretty good at hiding his emotions, but every once in awhile the mask slips enough for you to see something beneath. It’s anyone’s guess if it’s real or another one of his tricks to get you to let your guard down, but still, you find yourself asking, “Why not?”

“They’ll loose.”

“Why?” You shouldn’t be so open about your disdain in front of one of her subjects, but even after the little display last night, you’re not so totally afraid of her that you won’t ask questions.

He cocks his head like he’s thinking. “You don’t know do you?”

You walk to another pillar, a woman this time, half her body shaped like a giant snake. “That seems to be everybody’s favorite question to ask me.”

Rhys scratches at his chest, “She has the power of all Seven High Lords.”

Shit.

No one had ever given her a name, they’d always said she was a Blight on the Land and left it at that, as if they feared saying her name would summon her. There had been rumors about her, of course, whispered in taverns in the middle of the night, about a female who had ensnared the High Lords, a female who had snatched them all off their thrones. You hadn’t thought it was true. Tamlin was still in Spring.

“How?” It’s a nice story, but who could manage a feat like that? She was an intimidating force of course, but she hadn’t personally done that much. Everything had been done for her, she’d just been there overseeing.

“As I said,” he sits down in the middle of the floor and motions you to do the same. “She is what your father made her.”

You shiver and desperately need to steer the subject away from all things Hybern. You’ll cross that bridge in three months when he arrives. For now, getting out is the objective-- even if that means partnering with a monster to do it. “So why are you here?”

“Siphoning away our power isn’t a one time thing, since they’re regenerative, so she bound us to her so that she could tap into it continually.”

The information takes a moment to process.

“You’re a High Lord?”

He holds out a hand and lets a few tiny stars glitter from his palm, the glittering balls of light forming constellations and shapes before flying away. “Was,” he says sadly.

Not just any High Lord, there’s only one that can summon stars--something you realize now should have made it obvious from the get-go--Rhys was High Lord of the Night Court. And if memory served, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history. Everybody feared him. And he was here, sitting in the dirt with you far beneath a bunch of rock.

Cauldron boil you, you’d told the High Lord of the Freaking Night Court you were going to rip out his throat!

You can’t look at him. What are you supposed to do with the knowledge that you’d kissed the High Lord of the Night Court? You wish the ground would open and swallow you, but Rhys just stares at his hands, like he’s thinking about all that he has lost.

“How long have you been here?” If this was true, if Amarantha had really managed to steal from and ensnare all the High Lords than Rhys was just as trapped here as you.

“Going on fifty years,” he says.

The room spins. “You’ve been trapped here for fifty years?”

“But who’s counting?” The grin he offers doesn’t reach his eyes.

Before you can ask more question, he rubs his hands together and says, “Now let’s work on those shields.”

Your mouth opens to get back to the previous topic, the next question on your lips, but he misreads it and says, “Yours are nonexistent, any half trained daemati could walk right in and turn your mind into mush.”

The image of that male last night, blood trickling from his eyes makes all questions die in your throat. You can’t suppress the shiver. Is that what he’d done? Gone in and turned his mind into soup?

“You have to picture your mind like a hallway,” he explains, “each thought is a doorway into your memories, and each door needs to be locked and guarded.”

You scratch absently at your head.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs. “Now picture a hallway.”

The first hallway your mind can conjure is the winding path you’d taken to get here, the dark, ancient stone cold and unyielding.

“Try again,” he says like he sees it. Maybe he can.

You give yourself a little shake and try again.

“Relax, you’re too stiff.”

“You’re too stiff,” you retort.

Rhys snorts, “You have to let go of the tension in your shoulders. Take a deep breath. You need to let go of the focus you have on the room and look inside yourself.”

How philosophical; you’d roll your eyes if you weren’t squeezing them shut.

“Right now, you don’t exist here in this room, you’re body is the only tether you have. Let your thoughts drift and form the hallway.”

This is probably a skill you need--maybe a skill you should have possessed a long time ago, as unsure of all of this as you are, you owe it to yourself to at try and master your powers. You know if you don’t that he is perfectly capable of reaching into your mind and taking over them for you. If Amarantha would kill a male just to scare you, it’s not beneath her to use her puppet lordling to reach right into your skull and wield your powers anyway she sees fit. You have to try to master them. This might be your only chance.

You let yourself drift, letting go of all the questions and concerns that tug at you, letting your mind relax. With a few calming breaths you start to think about the farmhouse and the little hallway that leads from the stairs to your bedroom, the walls lined with your bookshelves and the collections of things your uncle had found in his travels.

“Good,” as he speaks he slowly begins to appear in your mind’s eye. This mental version of him reaches out a hand and picks a book up off the bookshelf: Enemy Kiss. Of course the first book he’d pluck out of your memories was one of your smutty romance novels.

With a squeak, you reach out and snatch it out of his hand. “Ok no touching the books.”

His grin is wicked as he turns into nothing but shadow and drifts right past you to another shelf. “Seduced by the High Lord,” he reads, fingers grazing the collections. “My Werewolf Harem.”

Your embarrassment makes the walls rattle, when you toss out a hand to grab the book from him the shelves go flying, sending books in all directions.

“Quite the collection you’ve got here,” he teases. “What’s in here, I wonder?” The shelves had been separated by doors, more doors than had been in your actual house, and when he opens it, it’s not a room at all, but a memory, playing out before you like it’s somehow detached from the body you use to move through the hallway. It’s a strange feeling, knowing that physically your body is sitting on the floor, but mentally, you have a body that moves and walks and touches, while your own memory plays out like it’s attached to a third body. When Rhys steps through the door, he steps right into a memory from last year’s Calanmai.

It might have been any other night, were it not for the drums pounding outside the windows, his own voice an echo on a phantom wind. You watch, somehow separate, yet connected to the body laying on the bed in front of you. Moonlight streams down on you as you lay in bed, sweat clinging to your skin, the sheets kicked off. The drums rattle the windows, begging, pleading you to come out and play. Memory you gives a frustrated growl as you roll onto your stomach, pulling a pillow over your head.

A normal memory, much to your relief. You know there are other ones in here that are…

The room spins, a blur of colors and sounds.

“What’s happening?”

Rhys is in shadow form again, a blur of darkness among the flash of color as the memory morphs and settles. Again in your bedroom. Again with the drums and Rhys’s call inside your head. But this time… this time you’ve got your shift bunched up around your hips, legs spread, your hand between your legs.

With a shriek, you spin towards the door and slam it shut.

Rhys finally takes a corporeal form again, now leaning against the door frame, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I’d praise your quick learning abilities, but I think we could have had more fun if you hadn’t slammed the door so quickly.”

Your cheeks heat, “No more touching the doors, Rhysand.”

Despite the fact that his physical body is across the room from yours, when he moves so that he’s standing ahead of you, your back now flush against the door to keep him out, you can still feel the heat of him. He braces one hand above your head, the other coming down to stroke across your cheek. “See, but you brought that memory up, not me, Darling. I walked into last year out of sheer curiosity, but you started thinking about another night, and brought it right to me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you grumble. “It just happened.”

“It’s cute that you’re so scandalized by it,” he says as he leans in, lips brushing against your ear.

When you shiver, a door across from you flies open.

“I’ve seen a lot worse in people’s minds,” he continues. “You’d be surprised how often people are thinking about sex.”

He’s the last person you want to be talking about sex with, or at least, you’d like to tell yourself that, but over his shoulder you can see into the room you’d opened, and it’s very clear that memory is of how his hands had felt on you that night. How close you’d been to begging for him to touch you.

You concentrate your energy into slamming that door shut before he can turn and see it--if he hasn’t already-- imagining a lock on it, sliding it into place, no matter how bad it makes your brain pound in your skull.

He glances over his shoulder than, grinning. “Good girl.”

You’re not sure if he can feel the confusion while he’s in your head like this--and you pray to every god you can name that he can’t because than he’d also know that, despite all your attempts to deny it, being called a good girl makes your stomach do flips--or if it shows on this version of you’s face because he adds, “It takes some people years to be able to shut their memories out, let alone lock them away.”

He knocks a knuckle against the wood of the door you’re still barring him from. “It’ll need reinforcing, but you’re making good progress.”

Maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you, but the hallway fades away and you open your eyes, blinking as the lights suddenly feel too bright, dim as they are. There’s a dull throbbing in your head that has you reaching out to rub your temples.

“Is it always going to hurt?” You grumble.

“No, with enough practice you should be able to check and lock your shields without having to be in a meditative state to do it. Which is something you’ll need to master within a couple weeks.”

Hadn’t he just said it took people years? “Why?”

His eyes are dark again, dangerous. “Hybern is sending your cousins to evaluate you and Amarantha’s hold on the Courts.”

You’re sure that’s supposed to mean something to you, but it doesn’t.

“The twins are daemati, like me, but…” he flicks some dirt off his knee, the cobalt and ruby gems on his rings gleaming in the firelight. “I don’t enjoy going into people’s minds like this. It’s an intrusion, not just of your privacy, but of your consciousness. It… it makes me feel like I’m violating people.”

There’s something in his voice that makes you think he might be showing you what kind of male he is underneath all the layers of flirting and show boating, like there’s something haunted and damaged beneath.

“I do it because I have to,” he holds your gaze like he needs a lifeline, like he might beg you to understand why he’d done what he had yesterday. “But the twins aren’t like me and if you give them an inch, you will find yourself a slave to their every whim.”

You shiver.

“You’re shields have to be up at all times, Y/N, your survival depends on it.”

You find yourself nodding. This is a dangerous game you’re now involved in, monsters lurking on every side. As much as you want to pretend that you can go back to a simple life when you finally get out of here, you know, deep down that to get out, life may never be as simple as it had been again. To be free, you’re going to have to dig deep and figure out exactly what you are.

“Show me more,” you say, meeting his gaze. You’re not sure what lies beneath your skin, if Hybern wants it, it very well be a monster as bad as any of the ones that lurk beneath this mountain. But if it means getting out of here, if it is the key to your freedom, you’ll do it. And in the end, you’d rather be the one to awaken it, before anyone else dared try.

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Tag List: @mariahoedt, @llovelydove, @twsssmlmaa, @sleepylunarwolf, @judig92, @willowpains, @annaaaaaa88, @myheartfollower @uniquecolorwizard

Let me know if any of my links or tags aren't working, my computer is buggin out for some reason, and as always, if you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know :)

[tmntfixationxreader]

"Hello author! I've read some of your other works and I thought they were great, so I have a request for you.

Would you be willing to write a Rise Raph x reader where they're having a sleepover? Raph is nervous about wearing his retainer around them but doesn't realize that the reader also has a retainer until they put theirs on, fluff ensues.❤️🙏🙏🙏"

Sure thing! Thanks for the request :)

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♡Self conscious sleepover♡

~During a sleepover, Raph gets worried about wearing his retainer~

Warnings: None, just fluff :)

Word count: 933

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You had just had an amazing, long night with the gang.

Raph had invited you over for a sleepover, so you could hang out with him and his brothers, watch movies, play games, and chill.

It was getting late now though, even for them. Mikey was already passed out on the couch you all had been watching movies on. Leo was sitting in front of the couch watching Jupiter Jim intently, and Donnie was typing something on his wrist watch, as he was ‘definitely too busy to watch the Atomic Lass special’.

Raph yawned once, displaying his fang and teeth before stretching his back as he sat forward. He noticed how sleepy you were looking, and decided it was probably time for the two of you to head to bed.

“Y/n, you ready to head to Raphs’ room?” Raph asked, looking sleepy himself.

You yawned as well and nodded. “Yeah, probably…”

Raph nodded, definitely ready for bed; But he was the older brother, and had to make sure his younger siblings would go to bed too.

“Leo, last movie. Seriously, you won’t get any sleep. Same for you too Donnie, and no lab work past midnight.”

“Yes yes dear brother, I know the rules,” Donnie said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand before typing more stuff onto his wrist watch.

“Don’t worry Hermanos, I’ll make sure Don Tron goes to bed…. Aaaand I won’t stay up past midnight either…” Leo said, giving Raph a smile before turning his attention fully back to the screen.

Raph sighed, content with their answer. “You two will sleep… Trust me, I’ll know if you didn’t.” He tucked Mikey in with a blanket before getting up from the couch.

“Ready Y/n?”

You nodded happily and sleepily, telling the twins goodnight before getting up from the couch yourself.

Raph’s bedroom was nice. It was large, decently organized, and decorated with a few scattered posters. You noticed the small (some larger) scratch marks on the walls from his spikes. He had a large bed, big enough for the two of you to sleep on. Actually, you guessed that it was a king sized bed and a twin mattress pushed together to make one large bed.

“I like your room,” You smiled, setting your bag down. You had already gotten changed into your pj's, brushed your teeth and hair, ready for bed. One last thing was needed, though, to complete your routine. You squatted down next to your bag, digging through its contents to find your retainer.

“Thanks,” Raph smiled, and sat down on his bed, having already finished his nightly routine… But, he needed his retainer, too. It was sitting on his mostly bare nightstand, next to a small lamp. He didn’t keep much on it, more than once he had knocked the contents off during the night.

He was nervous to get it out, looking over at it more than once as the two of you talked.

“It kind of reminds me of my own room… I especially like your squishmallows collection,” You smiled at him over your shoulder, still digging around in your bed.

Raph smiled a toothy smile. “Thanks! I like to collect them… Kind of hard to do that without spending a lot of money, though… Most of them are ones my brothers have given me over the years”

You nodded. “Cool! Seems like your brothers knew just what to get you then.”

Raph looked over at the small box on his nightstand. He was nervous about wearing it in front of you. He had only ever worn it in front of his brothers, and he was worried of what you would think of it… Especially because it was shaped around his fang and looked a little strange.

Finally your fingers found the container your retainer was kept in.

You pulled it out of your bag, opening the small plastic container with a click

Raph blinked. “You… Wear a retainer?” He asked as you put it on, fitting it inside your mouth.

After a short moment of muscle memory, you closed the container and put it back in your bag with a nod and a smile. “Yep, I wear a retainer.”

You glanced at Raph to see his reaction, and was pleasantly surprised when Raph’s face lit up into a smile.

“Really? I wear one too!” He said, grabbing his container from his nightstand. “Raph was a little nervous about wearing it in front of you…”

You raised your eyebrows. “Nervous? Why?” You smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Raph nodded, feeling a little better. “I don’t know… I was just self conscious.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be! I would never make fun of you for it or anything, even if I didn’t wear one myself.”

Raph smiles, and you zip up your bag. He opened the small plastic container, putting the plastic retainer over his teeth.

You smile at him, and he smiles back, clearly relieved.

“Thanks Y/n,” He smiled, and scooted so you could take half of the bed. You sat down next to him with a smile, patting his shoulder.

“No problem… Seriously, don’t stress about it…. No one should ever make fun of you for it,” You say, laying down next to him on your half of the bed, pulling the blankets up over yourself. It was getting really late, and you could immediately tell how tired you were.

Raph smiled and nodded, pulling the gigantic blanket over half of himself too.

“Good to know…Thanks,” He said, sleepiness settling into his eyes and muscles.

“Anytime Raphie…”

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Hope you like it! I'm really busy working on some personal and long requests, so I took a break to do some shorter ones :)

Bye bye butterflies!

[cowboythighs]

When Wayne took Eddie in, his biggest worry was that he was going to screw the poor kid up even more than his parents already had. After all, what did he know about taking care of a kid? How would he know what his nephew didn’t know- what Wayne needed to teach him? And how was he going to manage raising a whole little human and provide for them both? But to his surprise, Wayne soon found out that Eddie was shockingly self-sufficient. That he’d had to learn how to cook and clean and do laundry for himself, because his parents were too caught up in themselves and their own issues to take care of him.

Wayne’s momentary relief that he wasn’t starting from ground zero was soon replaced by a level of resentment towards Eddie’s parents. It wasn’t fair that Eddie had been forced to rely on himself so much. It hurt Wayne to see someone so young worrying the way he did about not using too much water; hurt watching Eddie silently going behind Wayne to turn off unused lights because he worried about the bills being too high to pay.

When he figured out Eddie's lemonade stand wasn’t set up to fund a new comic or toy, but rather to try and pay his share for room and board, Wayne took Eddie to the local thrift store and headed straight for the toys section. He was stern when he told Eddie to keep his money, and that they were not leaving until Eddie had an armful of his own toys because Wayne was determined to make sure Eddie had the chance to be a kid.

He watched as Eddie slowly pursued through the selection of toys- inspecting them carefully. When Wayne caught on that Eddie was looking at the price tags he gently admonished him; told him these are used toys; they’re cheap enough and that Eddie didn’t have to worry about money with him.

Eddie tried to argue, insisted that he knows how this goes and appreciates the thought, he really does think it’s nice that Uncle Wayne wants him to have fun stuff to play with, but he knew that just because they have money now it didn’t mean they won’t somehow come up short later, and how he’d much rather have heat than a GI Joe.

Wayne tried to be patient, to not to be as gruff as was his nature as he told Eddie “I may not be your daddy, but you're my boy and I’m gonna take care of you”. Wayne told him it was time to stop fussing and enjoy being a kid. Wayne allowed himself a smile when Eddie relented and picked out a handful of toys.

When they passed the book display as they walked towards the register Wayne stopped. “You like readin’?'' he asks. Eddie looks longingly at the books but only shrugs.

“Don’t know, never had any books to read”. Eddie says it like it doesn’t matter, but his face betrays him.

“They had books in school, didn’t they?” Wayne asked. Eddie just gave another shrug.

“Guess so. I didn't get to go to school very often. Mom and dad were almost always too tired or too sick in the mornings to take me. and we moved around a lot. When we lived close I could walk to school by myself as long as I had clean clothes. If you go to school dirty, teachers get too nosey," Eddie stated like it was common knowledge, “and then they call your parents and you get in trouble and have to move again. But mostly it was too far to walk so I couldn’t go anyways.”

Wayne’s heart felt like it was breaking anew with each detail of casual neglect his nephew had to endure. It wasn’t right for a kid so young to have gone through so much and be so nonchalant about it. Making up his mind he directed Eddie over to the books and told him he can have whatever he wants. There's a slim selection of children’s books to choose from, but it's a place to start.

Wayne watched Eddie's eyes as they kept wandering back to a boxed set with dragons and wizards on the spine. Wayne picked up the set of the Lord of the Rings books without a word and took the set up to the register with Eddie trailing behind. They were far too advanced for a kid his age, especially one as far behind as Eddie, but Wayne decided he would read to him every night. would read aloud the stories of Bilbo and Frodo and Middle Earth and watch Eddie's love for learning grow.

Wayne was proud when time passed and Eddie started leaving dirty dishes in the sink and letting his room get messy. He didn’t mind when Eddie took a long shower or stayed up late writing his own stories. Wasn’t disappointed when he got held back in school, or spent his free time playing games of make believe with his friends. Because he knew better than anyone that Eddie had a rough start in life and had been playing catch up for a long while. And besides, it gave him a chance to be a kid just a little longer, and there was nothing Wayne wanted more than that.

[guilty-pleasures21]

Another one?! Ugh, I get bored at work, okay?!

8. Just a little more to go?

Part 1 - the bachelorette

Part 2 - the honeymoon

Warnings: mentions of nudity.

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     He stroked his girlfriend’s side gently as she squeezed herself against him, trying to reassure her with his touch. He could practically hear her heart beating against her chest as they waited for the results of her PhD defence. He was sure she’d get it: she’d practised her presentation on him enough times for him to have memorised it by heart and, if he were being honest, it was at least twice as good as his had been. The door opened suddenly and the both of them hopped to their feet as one of the professors approached them. His face was straight, his features giving nothing away, and X reached for Miguel’s hand, gripping it tightly when she found it. The professor stopped in front of X, then he broke into a wide smile. “Congratulations, Dr X!”

     Her jaw dropped and she stopped breathing as she tried to process the news. 

     “I did it?” She turned to Miguel, her eyes wide. “I did it!”

     “Yes! Yes! You did it, querida!” He wrapped her up in his arms, overjoyed on her behalf. “I knew you would do it! I’m so proud of you, mi amor!”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she wriggled happily against him before going off to hug the rest of her family. 

     “Should we get going first?” X’s sister asked Miguel once she’d disappeared back into the room to finish up a few things. “You can bring X after she’s done, right?” 

     Her family had come over to support her during her final presentation and they’d all organised a dinner to celebrate X after. Miguel nodded in agreement.  “We’ll see you guys in a bit.” 

     He didn’t have to wait long until X returned, bouncing out of the room and taking his hand in hers. Miguel wound their fingers together as they walked to his car. “So, now that you’ve gotten your doctorate … can we start planning our wedding? 

     X laughed and chucked her shoulder into his. He’d already brought up the topic of marriage multiple times, though he never pushed her to speed up the process. He just liked talking about it - liked imagining what their lives would be like when they became husband and wife and started their own little family together. She squeezed his hand, her stomach flipping at the thought of him being the father of her kids. 

     “Okay.” They were making good progress on their timeline: her finishing her degree and him setting the financial foundation for them to start building their life together. So she supposed she could take some time off to focus on planning their wedding. Plus, it would be nice to take a bit of a break from work and studying, before she got burnt out from it all. “But don’t try to propose to me today! I don’t want our anniversary to be on the same day that I got my doctorate.”

     Miguel flashed her an awkward smile. He hadn’t planned on proposing to her that night, but she wasn’t wrong in thinking that he’d considered the idea: she’d wanted to wait until she’d finished her studies, after all, and finish them she had. But her sister had said the exact same thing when he’d approached her about the idea, so he’d gone back to his drawing board and re-planned his proposal to her. He gave her hand a little squeeze. “Right.”

     “Oh my god!” Wendy screeched, rushing over to give X a hug. “Congratulations! Show me the ring!” 

     She stepped back, giving X the space to lift her hand and display the elegant diamond on her finger. “Oh my god, it’s so beautiful! Ahh! I can’t believe you and Miguel are getting married! Oh my god! That’s crazy!”

     X grinned, getting giddy herself as they walked over to their table. She couldn’t believe herself that she was about to get married to him! The man of her dreams, the love of her life. 

     “Have you guys started planning yet?” Wendy asked as they sat down. “How is it going?”

     “Well, my sister and my mum were helping Miguel get some stuff planned out while I was still studying, but now that I’ve graduated I’m going to get more involved in it. I’m really excited! It’s going to be so much fun.”

     Wendy clasped her hands together, a dreamy expression on her face. 

     “Oh my god, you guys are so cute together.” She straightened suddenly and her expression morphed into one of fear. “Wait, I’m invited to your wedding, right?”

     “Of course!” X laughed at Wendy’s obvious nerves and the younger girl relaxed again. Then she leaned across the table, a mischievous smile now on her face. 

     “Wait, so, am I the bride’s side or the groom’s side?” she asked. 

     X let out another burst of laughter as she pictured the confused and horrified look her boyfriend - her fiancé - would most likely give her if she suggested such an idea to him. “Should we put you on the groom’s side? That would be so funny, oh my god. Can you imagine Miguel’s reaction?”

     Wendy joined in X’s amusement as she herself began imagining her ex-supervisor’s reaction to the idea. 

     “But, anyway, I’m going to invite you to my bachelorette party, if that’s okay?” X continued, biting her lip in anticipation of Wendy’s response. But she needn’t have worried. 

     “Of course! Oh, my god, I can’t wait!” Wendy exclaimed, picking up her menu to scan through it. X glanced at her own menu as her body began buzzing with delight at the thought of all the events that would lead up to her wedding: she couldn’t wait either.

     “¿Querida?” Miguel questioned, his confusion evident even over the phone. It was his fiancée’s bachelorette night and, judging by the loud music in the background, they’d made it to the drinking part of the evening. 

     “Miguel?!” X exclaimed a little too loudly. He could tell by her uncontrollable excitement at hearing the sound of his voice that she was probably quite drunk already. “Can you come pick me up, querido? I’m tired.”

     Miguel snickered at the innocent question. “We’re getting married the day after tomorrow, querida. We’re not supposed to see each other until then.”

     X sighed as if he wasn’t understanding what she was saying. “That’s stupid, Miguel. How am I supposed to get married to you when I can’t see you?”

     Miguel chuckled at her exasperated tone. “Do you not want to get married to me, querida?”

     “No! No, no, no!” X groaned, sounding like she was losing her patience with him. “Don’t be stupid, Miguel! Of course I want to marry you! I want to marry you so hard!”

     Miguel felt his chest warm at her matter-of-fact tone. She was so adorable when she was drunk. “You should go to sleep, querida. Where are you? Who’s in charge?”

     “I don’t … I want to go to sleep, Miguel. Can you come pick me up, amor?” she repeated, almost as if she hadn’t heard or didn’t care about what he’d just tried to explain to her. 

     “Querida,” Miguel told her, his tone firm. “I’m calling your sister.”

     X let out another frustrated groan. “Ugh! You’re so annoying!”

     “Hasta luego, querida (See you later, darling),” Miguel chuckled. “Te amo. (I love you.)”

     “I love you too, Miguel,” X mumbled instinctively. He hung up the phone, then called her sister immediately. 

     “Keira?” he asked once she’d picked up. “Where’s X?”

     “Miguel? Hello?” Keira responded, struggling to hear him over the heavy bass pounding in the background. “What’s wrong?” 

     “Where’s X?” Miguel asked, making sure to enunciate his words clearly. “She just called me saying she wants to go home.”

     “She went to the toilet,” Keira explained, the noise surrounding her fading away as she moved to a quieter area. “Wait, let me go find her.”

     Miguel waited as she likely made her way over to the toilet, then he heard a loud gasp sound over the phone. 

     “Oh no!” Keira exclaimed, her voice panicked. “She just messaged me that she got a taxi to your place!”

     Miguel sighed, mentally berating himself for not anticipating his crazy little future wife’s stubborn independence. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. I’ll text you when she gets here.”

     He waited in the lobby, keeping an eye on X’s location through the message she’d sent him. He looked up when he saw her car pulling into the lobby and though he did his best to maintain a stern expression, he couldn’t help his lips from twitching at the corners when he saw her pressed up against the window, an overjoyed smile on her face as she waved at him. He stepped forward to open the car door for her and X stumbled into his arms. 

     “Miguel! I missed you so much, janam!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned softly at the comforting feeling of being pressed up against him. Miguel held her firmly against him as he closed the car door and turned her around towards their building. 

     “Vamos, querida,” he instructed. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

     X continued clinging onto him as he helped her into the lift, barely waiting for the doors to close before she stretched onto her toes and began kissing and licking her way up his neck. 

     “Querida,” Miguel warned her, trying to stop her whilst also keeping her upright at the same time. X giggled, amused by how patiently he cared for her even when he was clearly annoyed by her overwhelming affection. The lift doors soon opened up to their floor and X continued to snicker giddily as Miguel guided her to their apartment. 

     “It’s your bachelor night, Miguel!” X pointed out to him as he opened the door for her. She turned around and wrapped herself around him once he’d closed the door behind them. “Your last night to have great, premarital sex.” 

     She tilted her head back and puckered her lips at him, her breath coated with the scent of alcohol. Miguel pulled away from her, amused. “Querida … How much did you have to drink?” 

     She was a bit of a lightweight, having never liked the taste of alcohol, so he guessed that she’d probably only had maybe three drinks? X fell against his chest, her exhaustion taking over now. “I don’t know. I’m just so excited to marry you!” 

     Miguel pressed a kiss to the top of her head and walked her over to the stairs. “I’m excited to marry you too, X.”

     He lifted her into his arms to carry her up to their bedroom and X giggled as she wriggled her legs delightedly. “Miguel! Are you trying to seduce me while I’m drunk?”

     She leaned over to press her lips to his neck and begin grazing her teeth and tongue along his skin again. Miguel raised an eyebrow as she let out a soft moan, the cute little sound causing his stomach to tighten in excitement. 

     “Are you sure you’re not the one trying to seduce me, querida?” he asked as he lay her down on the bed. 

     His fiancée smiled up at him sweetly, her arms still wrapped around his neck. “Is it working?”

     Miguel groaned and kissed her softly as he settled himself on top of her. 

     “Mmm, querida,” he murmured, moving his lips to the side of her neck. “We’re not supposed to be doing this, mi amor.” 

     But he continued making his way down her body, dampening her clothes with his saliva as he brushed his lips and tongue across her soft curves. X tangled her fingers in his hair as her hips lifted off the bed, silently begging him for relief. “When have we ever done what we’re supposed to be doing, cariño?”

     He pulled back to look down at her, her skin rosy from the alcohol running through her blood, her lips curled into an adoring smile as she gazed up at him. She was so lovely and so sweet and he sighed in defeat before he pressed his lips back to hers. He kissed her a little more, then rested his head on her shoulder and curled up against her side.

     “Miguel …” X wriggled out from under his grasp and sat up to cup his cheek in her hand. She stroked her thumb across his skin as her eyes trailed down his delicious body, then she swung her leg over him, settling herself on top of him. His eyes darkened as she tugged her shirt off and he watched silently as she continued pulling off her clothes. Finally, she sat back, completely exposed before him, and Miguel felt his heart speed up as she grinned down at him, her curly hair tumbling over her shoulders and brushing her breasts. X leaned forward, letting her lips land back on his neck, and Miguel sucked in a breath as she began wriggling her body against his. 

     “Querida …” he murmured, curling his fingers around her ass and squeezing her appreciatively. X squealed with delight and ground her hips into his, drawing a low groan out of him. Miguel slid his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. 

     “It’s your bachelor night, Miguel,” X repeated, sitting up and sliding her hands under his shirt to pull it off. Miguel held her steady as she tossed his shirt aside, then he shuffled backwards to lean against the headboard. X smiled and leaned forward to peck his lips. “Let me take care of you, hermoso.” 

     She slid her hands up his chest as she began nibbling his jaw, admiring his broad and firm muscles, then she began kissing her way down his torso. Miguel sucked in a breath as she reached his stomach, her tongue tracing the lines of his abs as carefully as she could in her inebriated state. But then she sat back up and started tugging at his waistband, trying to pull it off of him. Miguel placed his hand over hers, stopping her, and X pouted up at him in disappointment. 

     “Vamos, querida,” he told her, brushing her hair out of her face. “Let’s get you into the shower.” 

     X whined in protest as he stood them up and set her on the ground. “I don't want to shower, Miguel! I want to have sex with you!"

     He chuckled softly as she stroked his hair and began mumbling against his chest sleepily. “We haven't had sex in so long, querido! We're gonna have to spend our entire honeymoon having sex just to make up for it!”

     He grinned wickedly and straightened her to cup her face in his hand, giving himself the chance to admire her beautiful little body. “What makes you think I wasn't planning on doing that anyway?”

     He bent over to press his lips to hers, then picked her up and carried her over to the shower.

Tags: @heubstr @zayai @amberbalcom14 @julia4today