#I love how these questions focus on small personal moments

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, reader and katsuki are in their 3rd year, everyone is 18+, hand kink, this is actually rlly vanilla compared to everything else i’ve written GENRE: smut SUMMARY: you’re obsessed with your boyfriend’s strong hands and want his fingers in your mouth. WORD COUNT: 854 🦊’s A/N: sorry for how fucked up day 14 was LMAOOO also i’m sorry this is so short?? i’ll make up for it somehow

     for weeks now, you’d been asking your boyfriend to put his fingers in your mouth, or to let you suck on his fingers to soothe your oral fixation, just for him to shut you down each and every time. 

     and every time, you whined why?

     yet, without fail, he gave you the same response; because i don’t want you accidentally ingesting my sweat, idiot. it was out of care for your well being that he didn’t cave to a request-turned-demand that he wishes he could indulge you in desperately. but, whether he expressed it or not, katsuki was a caring person. …in his own aggressive manner, but anyone who knows him can tell when he cares for someone, as he becomes just the slightest bit softer around them, only has his guard half-way up instead of being on full defense mode all the time. and in regards to you? he more than just cared for you, he was stupidly, disgustingly in love with you. so much so, it made him physically ill. 

     that’s how he finds himself awake at midnight three weeks after your initial ask, locked away in his dorm room, the only thing illuminating the darkness being his laptop screen from underneath his sheets. he had gone down a rabbit hole on reddit about nitroglycerin and whether or not it was dangerous if consumed, how it tasted (as he had never… i dunno, licked his fuckin’ palms before like a little freak), what a lethal dosage was, etc.

     now, he feels a bit more prepared to yield to your demands next time you plead with him. as long as you don’t suck on them for an extended period, you should be fine—nitroglycerin was often used to help with chest pain in small doses, after all.

     so, the next time the two of you are getting hot and heavy in his dorm late at night, he finds himself pinning you to the bed, straddling your hips, erection pressing into your thinly clothed cunt—as you were both in nothing but your underwear—his chest pressing against yours, he finds his mind wandering to how he should go about this. 

     does he wait for you to bring it up again? or does he surprise you by taking the initiative..? tsk, like it’s even a question.

     pulling away from the sloppy kiss, he takes the opportunity to stick two of his fingers in your mouth when you go to ask him what he was doing—something that makes your eyes widen in shock for a brief moment before you’re grabbing at his thick wrist with both hands as you begin to suck his middle and ring fingers.

     katsuki bites his plump bottom lip as you swirl your tongue around and between the digits occupying your wet mouth before he suddenly has the muscle pinned down as he slides his fingers towards the back of your throat. 

      you can’t help but smile, and maybe moan a little, as he starts to essentially fingerfuck your mouth, nearly massaging your slick tongue but being just a bit too rough for it to be considered such. you were just content to finally get what you’d been begging for for weeks. 

     “mmmgh,” you moan softly, a noise that makes the blond smirk. 

     “enjoyin’ yourself?” he asks, more rhetorically than anything, but you answer him nonetheless.

     “mmhm,” you hum in response, closing your eyes as you focus on the taste of his fingers. they were… almost sweet? in a sense, but also left a light burning and tingling sensation behind in their wake—probably just the effects of the nitroglycerin, you think. nothing you hadn’t already thought of or considered. 

     spreading the thick digits, he splays them out to either side of your tongue, allowing you to move the muscle freely again 

     “kats…” you whine, rolling your hips up as you start to grow impatient, the feeling of his fingers in your mouth driving you crazy. nothing could have prepared you for how nice it felt. maybe it’s because it was like a forbidden treat for what seemed like the longest time, and now you were finally getting to indulge in it, and if not for the throbbing of your clit bringing you back to the real world, you think you could be content sucking on his thick and calloused digits for as long as he let you. 

     “mm–ow! you little shit!” he hisses when you suddenly bite down against his fingers, and he all but jerks them out of your mouth. “what was that for?”

     you can’t help but giggle and smirk at his confused expression.

     “felt like it,” you grin, looking up at him with nothing but mischief in your eyes.

     “fine, see if i ever let you suck on my fingers again,” he huffs, crossing his well-toned arms as he rolls his eyes.

     “wait, no–! ‘m sorry, baby; i was just fuckin’ with you, i won’t do it again, i promise,” you beg, propping yourself up on your forearms.

      fortunately, this time, it only took a few minutes of begging instead of a few weeks to get him to relent to your desperate pleas.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

[theresascove]

🕷️ Her Secret Life

spiderverse!ellie williams x f!reader

your girlfriend has a secondary life living as the spider-person in your city—and for years you’ve been unaware until you come face to face with the truth

tw: not proofread (shitty writing), spiderverse!au, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, loser!ellie, established relationship, angst w happy ending, protective/protector!ellie, weapon (gun, knife), injury (e and r sustaining), kidnapping (r), blood tw, argument, love confessions, intimate non-sexual nudity, fluff, fingering (r receiving), r had hair people can grip

wc ✎ 4.3k

“Shit,” you hiss, peeling your hand back from the burner. A bit of boiling water had flung over, landing itself onto your hand. Ellie, nearby, moves near when she heard the sound coming from your clenched teeth. She smiles softly, bringing your hand up to her face and kissing where it burns.

You shrug her off with a matching smile growing on your face, “flirt.”

“You say that like you don’t love it,” she sighs, wrapping her arms around your stomach. You spin around, attention shifting to her entirely—expression serious and gentle.

“I do love it,” you peck her cheek.

Her eyes—at their best shade of green when the sun hit her in such a way—glance down at your lips. She pulls you close just as she’s done for the past three years to pour her emotions grown for you over the time she’s known you.

The broadcast on the tv slips between the moment the two of you share—taking ahold of her focus all the while her lips keep coming back to yours. Physically she was still on you, but emotionally she was a whirlwind.

A burglary’s happening, a gun’s involved. How she wished to stay here wrapped in your arms and enjoy the food once it’s warm—she can’t. There’re people she’s required to save, she can’t leave them there.

The guilt eats her alive, motivating her to pull out of your embrace—leaving you sitting on the kitchen counter, lips swollen as she runs out. She stands by the front door, sliding her hair up into a small pony tail and grabbing her keys.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just some stuff to handle,” she replied, her eyes bright but evasive.

As she walked out, a nagging feeling settled in your stomach. You shook it off, returning to finishing cooking the food you had set out earlier. Hearing the news on the tv, the bit of worrisome information had you shutting it off.

This wasn’t the first she’s ran out. It’s often that you feel that pit your stomach. It’s often that you see the far away look in her eyes as she runs out. She’s said it’s her job, but you’re worried for her. Your girlfriend left around 5:23pm, and finally arrived back home around midnight.

Her leaving is normal, only happening here and there—until the time came where she was gone for a concerning amount of time. Really made you question if she worked with a team with how many hours she would work. Her hours got worse, causing her to cut off time with you.

Dates and even the small moments were torn, ripped away from you. Instead of nights laughing in bed laughing until two AM, you’d gotten accustomed to a quieter room. The only sound you hear as you shut your eyes is the sound of the AC turning on and off. Ellie always came home, but you never noticed her until the morning after.

Instead of dates, you settled to spend more days to yourself. It was fine, you had no reason to be upset. Ellie had even tried to mend it with you. She brought up the idea of you two making a set moment so she can’t just run out.

Friday, 5:30pm. You both were getting dinner. The plans were set in the phone books, written on the calendar stuck to your fridge by a small magnet. It was written everywhere, a reminder of the excitement coming. You looked forward to it, you both did.

Once the day had arrived, you were left alone at that dining table—left outside to freeze once the sun had set. Just like how your skin was cold to the touch, so had become your temperament towards Ellie.

She shows to your shared apartment with pleas falling off her before the front door closed. It sounds desperate, and so it tugs at your heartstrings—but your last bit of patience had been burnt out tonight. You’ve given her many chances and she’s done nothing to revive them.

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse, “say something.”

“Like what? I’m pissed that you can’t seem to fucking show up to one thing between us but you can find a time in your schedule for strangers?”

She sputters, “they’re in danger, what do you expect me to do? It’s my job.”

“You’re right. So right. I’m selfish for wanting a minute with my girlfriend. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, you know this.”

You spin, “do I? Because lately all I know about you is how good you are at disappearing everytime I need you.”

Oh, Ellie felt sharp pain in her chest—sharper than any knife that’s she’s had dug into her before. Your words combined with the tears in your eyes turned out to be a deadly combo. She should’ve stayed and talked more, you both should’ve communicated. But nonetheless, with heavy hearts, you both walked away from each other.

It wasn’t anything new—the empty space beside you, Ellie’s decor gathering dust on her bed stand. not new, but the chilling feeling continued into the morning. There was no dent put into the space beside you, there was no signs of her last night. You having staying in your apartment, tears falling harder when you watch her leave silently. For the first time in a while, you both stayed at your own apartments.

Turning the shower on was a temporary solution to the goosebumps that lined your body. Ellie liked to slide behind you while you took a shower, enjoying the intimate moment with you. The mornings usually were when she was most free—not much happening that required her to leave. So you cherished it. The shower was warm, warmer than usual so you could make up for the loss of the heat her body hugging you provided.

The water flowing down your body became a bit salty when your tears mixed. Regret filled you now and all you wanted to do was have her back. Living a moment you usually shared with her alone was breaking you. You missed her, you needed her to come back home. With whatever was in the air, you feared she might not come back—your conversation last night kind of sounding like it was leading towards discussing a breakup.

With the knowledge of knowing you are without her, it sure did come as a surprise when the door knob to your bathroom opened. Ellie always announced her presence when she comes in, and right now? it was eerily silent. You froze as you come to realize your situation, heart becoming so loud it rings in your ears. You’re cornered, and without your phone to dial someone for help.

“Make any sort of movement that I don’t like and I’ll shoot you immediately.”

After wrapping a towel around you, you come face to face with your intruder. Who knows why they’re here, but one good guess is money or they’re robbing your house. They take a good look at your tear stained face and your stone-cold expression before they grin.

“Oh how I wish she knew I was here.“

—————————

Ellie had been making her way towards your apartment, finger nails picked to the buds from her stress habits. She’s been a mess since last night, distraught just as much as you were—if not more. She’s always wanted to reveal her identity to you, but now she does more than ever. Knowing she could loose you was enough motivation for her to risk it all—to tell you the truth. So that’s why she’s at your door, knocking in hopes you’ll open it for her.

Nothing. Even after she’s knocked a tenth time, nothing. She calls your phone. Nothing. She texts you. Nothing. Either you’re really upset, or something wrong. She takes the worse case scenario and makes her way through your door, using the spare key you’ve made for her a while back. She calls your name as the door swings open, but it gets caught in her throat when she notices the state of your living room.

It’s been flipped. Decor strewn about, couch cushions placed in other areas of the room, broken glass. What sent her over the edge was a note, one of your known bright colored sticky notes stuck in the center of the room.

On the note it read, “come find us.”

She’s never felt such intense anger and pain in her life.

—————————

It was some hardware store, abandoned long ago no doubt. Your intruder and now kidnapper had you sitting knees first on the concrete floor. Bruises have lined your knees from where they shoved you to the ground once you first arrived. They’ve no real regard to your saftey, pushing and pulling you along without a care in the world. Your hands have since been bounded together by something you’ve never seen before, some different kind of plastic. It’s a material that’s much more difficult to break through than say rope.

Some time has gone by, silence permitting the room as you sit quietly on the floor just a few feet away. You’re still in shock, trying to accept that something like this could ever happen to you. It doesn’t feel real. It’s happened in shows, movies, news, but you in real life? It’s like a fever dream. Your kidnapper sits on a chair nearby, wasting the time by sharpening their knife—looking to you every now and then.

“That girl Ellie, she your girlfriend?”

You weren’t going to answer until you notice they’ve pointed their knife your way.

“Yes.”

They hum, looking back down to the project they’ve started, “I’m only looking after you when I say this. You should break up with her.”

“Why?”

“She doesn’t trust you.”

“What?”

“She doesn’t trust you.”

You nod without any regard to show your emotions, moving on so they’ll stop talking.

“Has she told you her little secret yet? Because it would be really embarrassing if I knew, but not you. Especially since I’m like her nemesis.”

There’s really no reason why that statement got under your nerves so quickly. They push their chair out from under them, stalking towards you and your heart beats louder with each step.

“That expression on your face makes me think she hasn’t.“

Their expression is a mix between playful and sinister, looking to find a crack in you and wedge inside of it.

“I know all about you actually,” they start, voice nothing but a whisper, “I mean it, all about you. About the two of you, your fight last night, what you know and don’t know about her.”

They crouch down to lean into your space, breathing heavily. Being so close it allows you to notice the mechanics in their left eye.

“When I say your girlfriend is someone I hate very much, one could say my enemy or rival, do you know why that is?”

“No.”

They sigh, “do I really have to be this blunt with you? Ellie’s this city’s spiderman and she’s been keeping it a secret because she doesn’t trust you.”

You furrow your eyebrows at what they’re saying, not believing it. They’ve no proof.

Just then a flash of a second later a flash of light comes crashing down from an overhead window, glass breaking onto the floor. There’s no time to even grasp what’s happening when you’re being tugged by your hair. You hiss, sitting up as high as you can in your knees to ease some of the pain. Across from the two of you stood Ellie, laced in her red and black suit. She’s been looking for hours, swinging around the entire city to look for you. It wasn’t until she made eye contact with this warehouse that she felt that tremble of her spider senses going off. Here she was now, staring at you for the first time while dressed in her other identity.

“Let her go.”

Your kidnapper laughs at their serious tone, cooing almost, “did I hit a nerve? Doing your research really does pay off sometimes. Anywho, no. Not until I get what I want.”

The two enter a conversation, one that sounds like they’ve had it many times before—but this time around it seems like your kidnapper may be the successful one.

“Well, I was just having a chat with your lovely girlfriend,” they gesture to you before you’re tossed onto the concrete carelessly, “told her about your little secret but I fear she doesn’t believe me. Could you help me out a bit?”

You gasp from the sting that came with hitting the ground, shoulder burning after receiving a brunt of the pain having colliding with the wall. With blurry eyes, you watch as the mask is removed—even with your pained vision you can tell it’s her. Short auburn hair, attention locked on you. You’re overall fine, just a few cuts and bruises—but each minor injury throws Ellie into a deep state of discomfort.

“It’s sweet the way you care for her. I wonder just how much you care,” they start, reaching to grab the knife they’ve been sharpening. They twirl it around in their hand with ease, eyes locked with your girlfriends as they move to crouch beside you.

“What would you do for her?”

You feel the knife graze the side of your neck, the cold and sharp feeling making you tense. Your eyes shut close, tightly—and you wish everything was just a nightmare.

“Everything.”

“Ah, good question. I can tell it’s honest because it’s cute how stressed you look,” they turn to you, “isn’t it cute? Open your eyes and look.”

You do as told.

“This is the behavior of someone that’s coming face to face with their terrible actions. Your girlfriend here realizes now that you know who she is, you know now about her constant lies. All about her “medical job,” all of those stories of how she’s come back with bleeding cuts.���

“I mean, do you even really know her? I bet you thought you did. Knew her like the back of your hand, your soulmate, the one you love. But this whole time she’s been keeping a secret from you. Wonder how much she actually really loves you if she can’t trust you with such an identity. She’s had enough time to have told you, and it doesn’t look like she was ever going to. After your fight last night it really is looking like she was going to sacrifice your relationship over it.”

Lies. You don’t know why but it feels like they’re making it all up. Maybe you’re stupid, or maybe the look in Ellie’s eyes was telling you what was really going on. They held a warmth there for you, the one you’ve been on the receiving end since the start of your relationship. This is the same look she’s given you before kissing you goodnight, the same look when you’re having a hard day, the same look when you first confessed that I love you phrase.

You might’ve been frustrated with her last night, and you might have some remaining once you’ve figured out she’s spiderman—but none of that was how you felt in this moment. Head resting against the wall with a knife positioned by your neck, you trust her. Your love for her hasn’t changed, and right now you want her to save you.

Ellie’s mask is held tightly in her fist, arm hanging tensely by her side, “what’s your motive for doing all of this?”

“Showing you what it’s like to be in my shoes. You killed my friend, and I’ll never forgive you for that. This is the only way I’ll forgive you. I have two solutions. One, I kill her. Two, I make you both agree to never see each other again. If either of you ever make a move to see one another, I’ll kill you right on the spot.”

“Are you a dumbass, what kind of “solutions” are these? Why would you offer solution one like I’d pick it?”

“You’re not picking them, I am. I’m deciding my mood.”

The buildings swallowed by silence after, save for your occasional sniffle. You’ve been doing good about keeping yourself disassociated with everything going on, but there’s only so much. Silent tears fall down as your chest stutters, lips wobbling from time to time.

Ellie licks her lips, “please just keep her alive, you can do what you want to me.”

“That’s unfair,” they snap, “I never was given a chance with my friend, they’re gone. You’re lucky I even offered another solution.”

You gasp when they press the knife a little harder, the blade close enough now it could cut.

“Thing is. If I kill her now, you’ll deal with this for the rest of your life. If I send you both to ignore each other, especially if I use my memory machine to take you out of the picture—it’s like she died, and it’ll torture you forever.”

At this point it’s like they’re mumbling to themself, discussing how each action sounds. Their grip on the knife loosens just a tad and in that small second Ellie shoots a web to knock the knife from their hold—shooting another to pull it towards her.

“Now I’m going to make a decision.”

She knocks them out cold, throwing a hit that sends them tumbling to the ground unconscious. Webs cover the area around them, trapping them in a cocoon almost. You’re still very much shaken even with such familiar hands touching you again, removing what bounded your wrists together.

Neither of you say anything. Ellie’s hands are running you over, checking for any signs of major injuries. Her hands are shaking, moving at a rushed state. Once she deems you’re alright, she’s calling the police—reporting what happened. All the while you’re needing her, you need her to hold you.

You’re still lying in the same position while she’s pacing and calling the town’s services, getting frustrated and confused from time to time. She’s frantic, blinking quick and voice shaky. You understand it, you do—neither of you have accepted fully what just transpired.

“Els,” you breathe, voice shaking.

She didn’t hear you, too focused on the call, so you reach for her with whatever energy you had left—desperate. Ellie breaks, crying despite being on the call.

“Yeah, thank you. I’ll be here until they show,” is the last thing she says before hanging up.

She gathers you into her, holding you ever so gently. She surrounds you, and you’ve never felt safer. You turn her suit dark from your deep, full-body sobs.

“I love you,” she whispers, sounding like she too had been crying just as hard as you, “I love you so much, you’re safe. I’ll always find you.”

You’re still trembling in her hold when the cops arrive, grasping tightly onto her and her you. After the medics offically check you over and treat your minor wounds—you’re dismissed from the scene.

Ellie takes you with her into the air, arm wrapped around you as she swings you back to her apartment. Your apartment would be an issue for a later time, but for now—there’s no energy to deal with that. She lands you two on the fire exit before opening the window and stepping down first to guide you in behind her.

Her mask and suit have been tossed off, instead replaced by other clothes. Shes moved slow, keeping you close as she takes it off. Once in normal clothes, she’s reaching for your hand and you take it eagerly—guiding you to her bed. Her rooms dark, only light coming from the moonlight casting from the windows behind her bed.

She guides you to lay beside her, blanket thrown on top of the both of you. It’s warm. It’s the first warmth you’ve felt since the other night. Oh that started you on a spiral. Ellie noticed, taking in how your expression falters.

“I’m so sorry.”

You cry so hard after that you have to press the back of your hands into your eyes, chest heaving. Ellie pulls you even closer if possible, melting the two of you into one. She’s so concerned, worried, scared, hurt, angry.

“Stop, please. Stop tearing yourself up, you’ve no reason to. You should be mad at me.”

“I can’t,” you hiccup, gripping onto her hands, “I can’t even be mad at you. I love you so much.”

Ellie crumbles, leaning in to leave a kiss on your cheek. She was testing the waters then, gaging how much you could take at the moment—and that little kiss sparked a passion. You leaned in, this time to connect your lips fully. Ellie met you where you were, warm fingers rubbing your hands.

“I love you,” you mumble, words muffled from your inability to keep your lips off her. She brushed a hand on your cheek, angling your face to kiss you deeper. You take it with need, you take everything she gives you like you’re starving.

She places a few kisses along your jaw, “I love you more.”

She ends up straddling you, legs on either side of your body. Her hair tickles your face from where she’s hovered on top. Each time she pulls back a little, you feel your heart skip a beat snd you’re pulling her closer. She minds none of it, needing it just as much as you.

Your breathing quickens when she kisses down your body, attention laser focused on your every little reaction. After a nod, she’s removing the shorts on your body. They fall somewhere in the room along with the rest of your guy’s clothes. Her naked body plus the blanket over the two of you was akin to a barrier against the world.

She works you open, fingers circling inside you and pressing against the spot that turns your mind into nothing. With everything heightened, you’re sensitive. You’re moaning into the void, and it’s a raw sound. She’s here, on top of you, touching you. Her naked body slides on yours, chests colliding and touching. She brings you to the edge fast, having only touching your sensitive clit a few times and pumping her fingers against that spot.

You gasp, lips parting from your kiss with her. She pants, eyes locked deep into yours.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she says, wrapping her body around you, “never will any of this happen again.”

You keep her where she lays, tears forming yet again. This time you keep it silent, trying not to disturb her again but she knows you too well. She stays awake for a long time, laying beside but also on top of you. She can’t bring herself to sleep that night, she’s too anxious. Your breathing eventually evens out, body having a drop after being on adrenaline for too long. The entire night Ellie lays with you, rubbing your hip and holding onto you tightly.

Once you offically begin to stir around late morning the next day, you wake up in a panicked state.

“I’m right here,” she says with such gentleness, grip on you a tight reminder of her presence.

You shift closer, “shower with me?”

It’s like all the times before. Her body sliding behind you and under the warm water. She hugs you, kissing your neck and shoulder.

“Why’ve you never told me about being spiderman?”

“I was told not to, that I couldn’t tell anyone because nobody could be trusted.”

“So they were right about you not trusting me.”

You didn’t mean to have that tone with her, it just came spewing out. She doesn’t take it personally whatsoever, just leaning to press her lips to your shoulder again.

“I absolutely trust you. I just didn’t wish to go against my boss essentially. I was at a loss, I’ve been wanting to tell you since day one.”

She turns you until you face her. Just seeing her, having her like this again—fuck, just seeing her was enough to make you bawl all over again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You saved my life and I’m—“

You couldn’t finish it due to crying again. Your legs had grown weak after, buckling from the weight. The two of you ended up together on the bathtub floor, Ellie holding and guiding the two of you towards the floor. She was behind you, her legs opened so you could lay between them. Her arms were around your midsection, holding onto your hands.

“What can you do as a spiderman?”

“Shoot webs, climb buildings, get senses for things going on around me, save you.”

You hum, savoring the feeling of her soft repetitive kisses on your neck.

“I also tell funny jokes.”

“You don’t need your other identity to do that.”

You twist uncomfortably for a moment to kiss her. Even in this situation you’re the most beautiful person she’s ever seen. Teary eyes, cuts along your body, bruises on your cheek. You were beautiful.

“I love you,” she says for the hundredth time since coming back home. One usually assumes the more something is said, the less value it holds—but with her confessions, you crave for the next time she says it each time. It holds the same response from you.

You kiss her again for longer, everything fading away as you’re here in her arms—“I love you more.”

[mysumeow]

ᯓ★ KINKTOBER DAY 4: SUCCUBUS

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: Afab body reader, referred to with feminine terms such as girl. Arle has a dick (You may decide to read it as a strap on or not). Succubus Arlecchino. Established relationship.

ᓚᘏᗢ SUMMARY: Succubus Arlecchino peeks into your deepest desires to embody them.

ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: Sesbian lex???!!!!! More likely than you think.

🎃 . . . KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Your loving girlfriend Arlecchino.

She, who reciprocates your eager hugs when she’s back from work.

She, who gently brushes your hair when you ask her for it.

She, who pushes your legs as far as they can go as she fucks you within an inch of your life—

“Wait—Wait, please!” You gasped as you felt her push until she bottomed out, the head of her cock stretching out your vulnerable insides. It was thicker and harder than anything you’ve taken before; you feared it could split you open from the sheer size of it.

“Keep those cute sounds coming, darling. You sound beautiful,” her lips swallowed your desperate whines, her tongue possessively playing with yours. She clasped her hold on your hips to keep you in place. As small as the tremors from your body were, the feel of her cock was overwhelming.

This was unusual of Arlecchino; used to her doting on you and the sweetness with which she would handle your body, this sudden outburst of famine for sex was a surprise. One that was exciting, albeit the abruptness.

“It’s okay,” she kissed away the tiny tears that prickled your eyes; nimble fingers caressed your cheek. “You’ll feel really good soon. Just let yourself go, trust your body and your pleasure to me.”

“Arle…” you muttered, and the sound of your quivering voice excited her. She held your face in place, greedy to surmise every single detail.

Arlecchino pulled away and then jerked forward, stuffing you full of her dick again. It bumped against the deepest parts of your body, leaving you short of breath. You threw your head back against the pillow when the tempo became faster, as if she was punching the air out of your lungs from how deep she was.

“Keep squeezing me like that, good girl." Arlecchino sucked marks into your skin—evidence of who you belonged to. “You want it, hm? You want me to fill you up with it again and again?”

“Yes, I want it! Give it to me, Arle,” you couldn’t help but utter in frantic moans. “Make me yours.”

You were the moment you let your guard down and allowed her to breach into your dreams.

Pleased by your begging, her hands went to your clit to rub it. She knew it was akin to an overkill, since this was within the realm of her powers, the extra stimulation was given to make your orgasm especially strong.

Your pussy tightened around her, your orgasm drenching her length of your juices.

Faintly, you registered her pulling away from you. The bed shifted from the movements, but you didn’t have the mind to worry about it, basking from the leftover waves of pleasure.

“Open up, sweetheart…”

You felt something prod at your lips, which prompted you to open your eyes.

Arlecchino had straddled you until her cock was within reach of your mouth, fingers grazing across your hair in a sweet gesture with hidden intentions.

“I wasn’t done with you yet,” her salacious grin made your heart race.

You woke up with a jolt, and you would’ve sat up if not for the arm weighing you down.

The sun shone through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day.

“Mm…” Arlecchino stirred awake. She noticed your disheveled appearance and expressed a questioning look.

Despite being awake from such a vivid and hefty wet dream, you couldn’t find peace from seeing your partner’s breathtaking face up close and personal. And with more reason, considering the focus point of said dream was her.

“I dreamt that...” you hesitated. “Nevermind.”

“I do wish you shared it with me, darling,” her fingers ghosted over your hipbone. “As detailed as possible.”

[simplyreveries]

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'"

riddle rosehearts

riddle feels such a strange feeling in his chest, he hates it. he feels nervous as you make his chest squeeze and filled with pressure every time, you're near— it washes away as soon as you turn and talk to him. he feels frustrated because he finds himself unable to focus, unable to think clearly when all he sees you. you make him feel such a sense of comfort, he feels like he can fully let his guard down and tell you everything about him if you asked and it scares him. he has looked into how he is feeling, tried asking trey bashfully or read books, things online how he could possibly cope with this sickness.

more often than not he’s drawn to observing and noticing everything about you, your little quirks, expressions, comments, when your right in front of him now, laughing and talking freely amongst your friends around him happily helping out and cleaning up a little. he doesn't seem to be near nor saying a word but only mesmerized as he watches from a distance, he feels so much in a daze of this realization that he doesn't snap out when you walk over to him, he looks at you with a distressed look.

"... have you ever been in love?"

leona kingscholar

despite leona’s intelligence and knowing just exactly what he is feeling about you, he is stubborn at heart. he absolutely hates what you're doing to him, he can't even sleep and take a nap in peace without you invading his thoughts. it looks like he’s angry at you or frustrated, really but it's just him unable to handle the emotions you make him experience. he is infuriated with how he succumbs to the jealously that you make him feel when you're with others, that he feels need to want that attention back on him. still, you talk and find him, usually talking his ear off about something random and some event that occurred to you today.

he has his eyes closed but still listens to you. sometimes you’ll join a game of chess with him, to which he usually takes the pride in winning. he never really questioned as to why you're so persistent on befriending or even just being around him, perhaps you warmed up to him when he cracked and gave into letting you and grim stay at his dorm when yours was practically taken over. his demeanor around you is small, but noticeable. sometimes you'd tease and laugh, you tell him "you must love me" his eyes are kept on you with his eyebrows raised, but he wouldn't say anything to deny.

"do you really wanna make me say it?"

azul ashengrotto

azul finds his demeanor collapsing around you, when he tries to play his cool-headed, business oriented, cleverly scheming person with a smug grin that turns into a stupid smile because he finds himself too nervous around you and so happy being close to you. any attempt he makes to be "suave" around you, it only shows what a hopeless man he is. he feels like he has to look like he absolutely is perfect in front of you, how else would you fall for him? nevertheless, you always seem to be able to see right through him and he hates that. he doesn't want to feel vulnerable, its icky to him.

he watches you after hours in the mostro lounge as you hum and finish closing and cleaning up with him and some others, however now it only seems to be you and azul. he knows he shouldn’t be staring but he tells himself just a few moments more, he always found you under the lighting to be mesmerizing. he hears you telling him about something silly that happened while you were serving, he hears you but can't focus as his mind is running with a million thoughts, if you ask him what it is, he clears his throat and carefully adjusts his glasses, replying slowly.

“i just... love you”

kalim al-asim

his feelings hit so hard, as soon as he got them, he loved it and wanted more of the adrenaline and high of being completely enamored with someone. he loved all the little things that happens throughout the day that makes him so giddy and happy he thinks about it as he tries to sleep, excited for tomorrow to come to see you. kalim feels like he is literally your other half, always wanting to be right beside you.

he finds himself daydreaming quite often, of what it'd be like to be yours, even the thought of you giving him a kiss on the cheek has him flushed. of course, you’d find himself at his celebrations and parades he holds at his dorm. he'd always try to get you to dance, grabbing your hands and jumping up and down with you laughing at least. kalim feels like he can say anything to you and thats exactly what he does. he grabs your hands and bring it up to his face near his lips.

"i love you!"

vil schoenheit

he had his apprehensions; you were more so just someone he knew and eventually because dormmates during his stay with the others at ramshackle. vil had always seemed so drawn to you, if you notice him staring and give a nervous, confused look he'll smoothly adjust something on you. it looks like he can see right through you at times, it didn't take long for him to believe what a genuinely good soul you are in this school. when you and the others were dealing with the events that unfolded when dealing with idia and STYX, when vil had hugged you and pressed a kiss to your forehead he realized just how fully he was deep in this. he pulled away and stared at you for a moment with his hands gripped on your arms that took a longer to fully pull away.

you've sparked such an interest in him, he practically found himself becoming infatuated over time. you'll find yourself within his dorm as he carefully applies makeup to your face-- he adores doing but he can't help but feel amused with a smile creeping to his face when he feels how strangely intimate it feels between you too with him so close. he looks at you with the dreamiest daze, he'll pinch your cheek lightly before moving to grab something else.

"i cant believe i've fallen for you"

idia shroud

he stares and fidgets on his phone nervously, biting his already scarred lip-- he is staring at your contact. he wants to get it off his chest, he wants to get it out of the way if you're reciprocating and feel the same way to someone like him. ortho practically bugs him all the time to, confident and laughs even when he brings up the idea- ortho knows you and thinks idia will be successful and pleasantly surprised with your answer. idia hates that he can't help the way he feels around you, he feels a sense of relief and comfort when you're near- like he doesn't need to be absolutely on edge.

yet as soon as he felt that sensation around you, he eventually turned into his fear because of his infatuation he has around you only grew. he feels his mouth goes dry and struggles to finds something to say when he's looking right at you. you'll still see his moments where he's rambling about something he built or a media he is enjoying but he grows back more into his shell of anxiety when he realizes how much he feels. he considers you perfect and honestly, far out of his league. there was no one someone like you would possibly fall for someone like him. still, idia has found himself to be a pathetic mess when it comes to you and quickly presses send.

"I think i love you"

malleus draconia

surprisingly, out of all of them - i feel like its him that falls for you the quickest. he found himself to be so smitten with you as soon as he accidentally stumbled upon you when it was unbeknownst to him that you were living in the ramshackle dorm now. he admires you, you've shown anything but fear around him and made him feel seen. he truly believes its fate that you somehow found yourself all the way to twisted wonderland and you two had met each other, he tends to find his mind drifting and thinking about that a lot. despite you possessing no magic, he still sometimes will tell you even before confessing that you must hold something. malleus won't give you an exact answer as to why he thinks that yet– being playful and mysterious as he quietly laughs to himself. you stumbled into this unknown world and made him this infatuated. he can't take his eyes off of you during the nights you find yourself talking to him, he watches you look at the nature, as he often shares you the beauty of it in the late hours.

"you've bewitched me, havent you?"

[zablife]

Being Benny's Girl Would Include

Benny Cross Masterlist

A/N: After creating a similar list for Johnny, I now have one for Benny. Ty to a lovely anon for requesting it!

Warnings: slightly nsfw, drinking, mention of injury, mention of a weapon

♡ There are many sleepless nights, worrying about him out on the open road. And you have good cause bc he's constantly returning to you bruised and bloodied.

♡ You learn how to dress wounds, even sew a few stitches, bc he's too stubborn to go to a hospital, preferring your gentle touch instead. "You're better than any damn doctor, sweetheart."

♡ If you pout when he returns, he'll try to make you forget how upset you've been with a bit of teasing that cleverly puts something else in the forefront of your mind. "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

♡ When you're feeling clingy, he'll take you down to the bar with him, not giving a shit what the guys think when you leave lipstick on him or pluck the cigarette from his lips for a drag instead of lighting your own. In fact, he encourages your behavior, flipping his chair around in hopes your small hand will nestle into the back pocket of his Levi's.

♡ Benny's not much of a talker, but he opens up to you bc you're the first person who's ever really cared enough to ask the right questions. That makes him want to tell you things he's never said out loud. He confides the ring on his pinkie came from his granddaddy, the only real father figure he ever knew.

♡ He gifts the important possession to you as a sign of his devotion and his heart skips a beat when he thinks about how you wear it on a chain bc it would slip off your delicate finger too easily otherwise.

♡ You're his sweet girl, an angel so precious he has restless nights worrying about you amongst all the burly men in the rough bars and pool halls he frequents. His concerns over keeping you safe giving him full blown insomnia after Kathy is attacked at a house party.

♡ You'll prob find yourself in an empty field the next morning, caged in by Benny's muscular arms, holding his .38 in your trembling hands. Nodding toward the line of beer bottles in the distance as he softly instructs, "squeeze the trigger real slow as you exhale. You can do it, darlin'."

♡ You didn't see the need considering the protective way he drapes his arm over you, eyes cautiously scanning the room with a feral look in his eye. Everyone knows what it means. Touch her and you're a dead man.

♡ He's been known to take things too far, esp when he's drinking. Once a guy collided with you at the bar, spilling beer down your white dress and turning it sheer. The unlucky son of a bitch found himself on the street seconds later facing the broken end of the bottle inches from his throat.

♡ The novelty of having your honor defended loses its appeal with every trip to county. Benny senses it in your anguished sigh and furrowed brow when you come to bail him out, hanging his head shamefully the moment he catches sight of you.

♡ Since there's nothing he hates more than disappointing you, he tries to keep his impulses in check and focus on your needs. "You know I'd do anything for you, angel."

♡ Nothing made your heart race with excitement quite like the day he stole you away for a winding ride that ended under a magnificent orange sunset. When he removed his shirt to make love to you in the tall grass, you glimpsed your name freshly inked over his heart.

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Questions

Synopsis: What is love? You try to answer the age old mystery. And it would seem all clues lead to one person alone— the person who was always by your side. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond and Princess Growing Closer, Realizations, Fluff, Jealousy, A Myriad of Emotions PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART A/N: It's been a long time coming but...

“What does love mean?” You pondered upon the question. “Is it the way your heart quickens when you look upon a face so comely your mind can no longer comprehend anything?” You frowned and tried to focus on the sound of your heart beating your chest; you could barely feel its existence. “Or is it the constantness of thoughts about someone? Always protruding in your mind, they always seem to haunt each moment.” You tried to search your mind, what thoughts were haunting it besides the sweets you were to consume later that afternoon. 

“Perhaps it is the twisting in your stomach when the one you want is far from your touch or their attention is caught by another.” You lowered your gaze, turning upon your abdomen with the question, ‘Do I want anyone?’ in your mind. “Does love constitute excitement? A rush of blood when eyes meet? A shortness of breath when shoulders brush?” You blinked upon the question, recalling the moments, if there were any, that you had felt such sensations. “Or is it a calmness? A serenity that lulls and lures you in its warm embrace?” Was there anything that brought you calm and security when, all your life, there was nothing to fret over? You started to wonder. “Does love mean you are given all you want? That you are showered with the extravagance our worldly selves could offer? Or does it mean sacrifice? To live plainly and without the need for frills.”  Your mind could barely comprehend the words posed. 

What is love? Surely, you shouldn’t struggle as much as this to understand what love is. You have loved before. You loved your family, your pet, your subjects. And you have felt love before, haven’t you? Have you? “Love means a multitude of things, I suppose. It could be one or the other. But what I know is that it does not restrain itself in one expression— love differs from one person to the other. To some, love is loud— something so obvious and could not pose any question. To others, it is subtle— some may even question if it is truly there, but best believe, it is.” Your fingers traced the embroidery of your dress as your mind raced and thought over the words said. You were bothered, vexed with the questions that your mind could not fully comprehend. What is love?

Aemond rushed through the halls to reach the south gate, your wheelhouse coming into view just as he arrived at his post. He led out his arm to assist you, “How was the sermon?” Your knight asked, as you had just come from the Sept for the week’s service. At any other time, he would join you, especially as it was in the city where dangers were tenfold, but alas, he had business he needed to tend to. The whole morning, he was anxious for your return as he feared that the knights tasked to watch over you were not as competent as he. “I did not understand it,” You muttered, the words of the High Septon still haunting you, but at the same time, they flew over your head. Aemond could only nod, observing as a small frown consumed your face. 

He walked with you into the keep, but you were overly quiet, and it concerned him. He was threading the path to the garden where your tea and treats were served, and he was certain that that would erase any trouble in your mind, but you walked onwards to your chambers. “Are you not to have tea, princess?” He questioned. “No,” You answered curtly and disappeared into your chambers, further confusing your knight. What had happened in the few hours he was away from you?

You sat upon your desk, your hand furiously scribbling the words uttered by the High Septon to make out the meaning of love. The cluelessness of something that is supposed to be rudimentary was consuming you. What is love?! You asked yourself over and over again. You looked upon what you had written, reading the words and trying to make sense of the meaning. Surely, in your seven and ten years of living, there is something that can amount to love. You’ve read about it over and over again— you have seen it, you suppose. You had given it, of course— but have you yourself felt love?

Your head snapped upwards as you heard your chamber doors open; you were still sitting upon your desk with your ink-stained hands and crumpled scrolls littered by your feet. “Princess, it is the of your supper,” Ser Aemond announced as he assessed your frame, hunched over the table, and face flushed. You suddenly felt the existence of your heart as your eyes met with lilac ones that would glance between you and the scroll in your hand. “I… I do not wish to eat,” you say as you slyly try to fold the paper. You were embarrassed that your knight may have caught you being consumed by such a simple question. 

Aemond watched as your hands moved slowly to fold a parchment, hiding its contents from his view. He turned his eye toward your ink-stained hands and the discarded parchments on the floor. Who were you writing to? He questioned, a twisting in his stomach as he realized this was what had consumed your whole afternoon. That you certainly placed your best effort to write and re-write a letter to someone he has yet to learn. “I’ll ask your maid to bring your meal here,” Aemond said, a bit too cold as pain was consuming his insides. “No— I do not wish to eat.” You repeated, observing how the light of the hearth had illuminated the face of Ser Aemond to something almost ethereal. Why had you not noticed it before? “You must eat, princess. You did not have luncheon or your afternoon tea. You must eat supper.” Aemond stated, ready to leave and give no room for you to argue. “But—“ The following words were not heard as your knight had closed your door, his mind consumed with the question of who you were writing to so secretively. 

What comes to mind when you think of love? You questioned yourself the following morning. You were drawing a blank. You decided that the question you ask yourself means to leave out the love you feel for your family and pet. So, again, what comes to mind when you think of love? You sighed heavily as you sat in the gardens, looking upon the serve with no intentions of eating it. “Are you well, princess?” Aemond questioned as you slumped in your chair and made no movements other than the rise and fall of your shoulders each time you sighed. “Yes,” you replied automatically, as it was a second habit. “You are not.” Aemond countered. You frowned and turned to meet his gaze. “Do I not look well?” You asked, raising a spoon to look upon your reflection. 

“Outwardly, you do. But I know something is troubling you.” Your frown severed. How did he know? You thought. “It’s nothing,” you said quietly, looking upon the piercing gaze of Ser Aemond that manages to form a lump in your throat and a throb in your ears. “Then eat. If nothing is truly bothering you, then you must eat.” He stated. You gave a small nod and did as he said, even though you had no appetite. Aemond was itching to know what you were thinking— he had never met with such mystery as this. You usually uttered every thought you had in mind to your knight; why now did you decide to break such habits? Aemond pursed his lips as he once again saw a glimpse of the parchment you were writing upon the day before. Why did you not send it? What did it contain? Who is it meant for? Questions were starting to consume him. 

You sat in your solarium, staring upon the vast land that overlooks it with the intention of painting the scene, but you could not do so. The same question was still consuming your thoughts. You groaned loudly, your distressed sound reaching the ears of your knight who stood outside. “Princess?” He called, quickly going by your side to see if you were harmed even though nothing could cause it. “It’s nothing— I just… I can’t paint,” You muttered in frustration. “Why? Is your injury still not fully healed?” Aemond took hold of your once-injured arm to assess it. You froze. Your cheeks heated as his hand held yours—the rush of blood, your mind remembered, but you disregarded the thought quickly.

“No! It’s fine,” You say, trying to steal away your arm, but Ser Aemond’s hold only tightened, not painfully; it was almost calming the way he held it closer to him. “You must stop saying everything is fine when it is clearly not,” Aemond said seriously, growing tired of hearing the words you offered so he would not fret over you, but it only had the opposite effect. “Had something happened in the Sept?” He questioned, and you shook your head, your eyes glancing towards your still clasped hands, and realized there was a sensation in it that was wholly absent from the other appendage. “No.” You answered as you did not want to disclose what was truly bothering you. “You’re lying,” You frowned as you were accused of the truth. 

You licked your lips, “I am not!” You squeaked, and Ser Aemond laughed humorlessly. “You know, when you lie, you lick your lips, and your voice grows an octave higher,” He informed. “It does not,” You say lowly, and Aemond gives an amused breath. “What is it? You are aware that you must tell me what bothers you so I can perform my duty, yes?” He asked rhetorically, knowing full well you knew the answer. You sighed and met his gaze once more, your heartbeat ringing in your ears. “What is love?” You asked, giving up on trying to hide from Ser Aemond what troubled you, for he would eventually find out anyway.

“What?” Aemond asked, not expecting for such a question to leave your lips. “The other day, the High Septon’s service was about love… and I could not comprehend his meaning,” You started to explain. “I even wrote it down so I could make sense of it, but I still cannot,” You say, taking the parchment out of the small pocket of your dress to show Aemond the words uttered and you had written. “Do you understand it?” You questioned as you made Ser Aemond read what you wrote. Aemond bit his tongue as he read the words, relief washing over him. He turned to your expecting gaze, feeling his usually calm heart grow erratic. Of course, he understood it— he had felt it firsthand. But he was curious as to why you had not even once felt it. Perhaps he should be thankful for that. “No, princess.” He lied. “Oh…” You trailed, dissapointed as you throught your knight could enlighten you for he was always so worldly and he often explained to you matters you had a hard time grasping. 

“Have you never been in love?” You dared ask, not thinking twice as the words left your lips. It was perhaps inappropriate to ask Ser Aemond such a question, but you had already uttered it, and you could not take it back. Aemond cleared his throat as he once again did not expect such questions. His gaze flew to the floor, “Knights are not allowed to fall in love— our oaths forbid it.” You nodded slowly. “We are only allowed to fall in love with our duty,” he added quietly, unable to hinder the words that, in a sense, were a lie, but if he thought about it more, it was the most real truth he could offer. 

“Have you?” he then asked. You blinked. “No… I do not believe I have,” you answered, but there was an odd sensation as you said it. Uncertainty was heavy, and though you truly believed you had not once felt that type of love, it was offputting to admit it, as if a voice was urging you to believe otherwise. Aemond gave a nod, a mixture of grief and relief swirling within. 

When afternoon came, you walked with your knight to the gardens, as always. “I think he’s quite handsome,” You hear the whispers of some ladies of the court. “Even with the scar?” Another questioned. “Especially with the scar,” You hear her laugh. You looked over your shoulder to glance at them and stood by the side, giggling as they shamelessly eyed your knight. You turned to Ser Aemond for the first time; he seemed oblivious to the whispers, and that calmed the twist in your stomach as the attention of the ladies was turned to Ser Aemond. Aemond once again realized that you were in your head. He sighed and linked his arms with yours, securing you to prevent you from tripping or harming yourself. You felt warm once again, a nice sensation to combat the autumn breeze. You looked upon your clasped arms, and a question came to mind. Is love security? The sense of safety; is that what love was? 

You were stunned. You turned to Ser Aemond, his gaze already placed upon yours. There it was again, the announcing of your heart’s existence, the warmness in your chest, the weakness in your knees. And at the same time, though your heart wanted to break free from your chest, you felt no anxiousness; calmness consumed you. “Are you well?” Ser Aemond asked once more as you stared upon him, your eyes shining from the late afternoon sun. “Yes,” You squeaked after a moment. Aemond sighed as another lie left your lips, “Come now, let’s get you to your chambers,” Your knight said and led you through the halls, not letting you fret over the path, protecting you in even the smallest way. Is this what love was?

You were restless when night came, tossing and turning in your bed as you tried to make peace with your realization. “What does love mean? Is it the way your heart quickens when you look upon a face so comely your mind can no longer comprehend anything?… Does love constitute excitement? A rush of blood when eyes meet? A shortness of breath when shoulders brush?” Ser Aemod was certainly comely, not even you can deny that. With his unique lilac eye and silver locks— his tall, lithe frame; even you had to agree with the ladies with the court, he was more handsome with the scar. And each time you would meet his eye or look upon the outline of his face, it made your mind grow hazy. You sighed; finding Aemond comely did not mean you were in love with him! If that were the case, it would meant you had loved him the moment you two met! You froze at the thought. 

“Is it the constantness of thoughts about someone? Always protruding in your mind, they always seem to haunt each moment.” The morning before you went to the Sept, Ser Aemond had to excuse himself to run an errand, and all you did was think about what he was doing. Unaccustomed to him being away from your side. Even the week you had granted him leave— all you thought about was him and quietly wished he would be stubborn and return by your side. 

“Perhaps it is the twisting in your stomach when the one you want is far from your touch or their attention is caught by another.” You never understood what jealousy truly felt— what is there to envy when all you had wanted was given to you? But you did hear people describe it to be a bothersome feeling, a pit in your stomach, a twitch in your chest, an irritation that you could not be rid of. That was what you felt earlier that day when the ladies were eyeing Ser Aemond and when Celia, the seaside palace’s chambermaid, began to grow familiar with your sworn protector. 

Does love mean you are given all you want? That you are showered with the extravagance our worldly selves could offer? Or does it mean sacrifice? To live plainly and without the need for frills.” Ser Aemond often did the same; the way he would sacrifice his self-interest to protect you and be by your side. How he had gone the extra mile, doing more than what a regular knight’s duties were. Smuggling you treats and sweets, being by your beck and call, comforting you when you needed a shoulder to cry on, caring for you even though he need not. He did not offer you gifts or any material possessions— all he gave was his undying service, and that was worth more than any castle or title or riches ever known. That realization made you sit up, your mind in complete focus as you were finally coming to terms with your answer. 

“Love means a multitude of things, I suppose. It could be one or the other. But what I know is that it does restrain itself in one expression— love differs from one person to the other. To some, love is loud— something so obvious and could not pose any question. To others, it is subtle— some may even question if it is truly there, but best believe, it is.” You always knew what love is, and you had felt it. How could you not? The love you were trying to comprehend was only disguised and hidden from your mind, but now you know and can admit it to yourself with conviction. 

Ser Aemond was love, and you love Ser Aemond.

[irndad]

in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 

But he wanted her. 

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question. 

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god. 

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 

Ben, is not in fact, going away. 

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  

But her cup says Ben. 

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 

Ironic, really. 

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance? 

Wasn’t it romance, though? 

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks. 

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 

[matty-bear]

The Elevator Game Gone Wrong PT.2 [M.S]

type: fic! 

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: VERY long, sfw, fluffy, alternate universe, paranormal activity, getting an attachment, seeing spirits, elevators

summary: As you and the triplets join Sam and Colby in investigating the most haunted hotel in Texas, the two ghost hunters suggest that Matt participates in a ritual called The Elevator Game. Little did everyone know that the ritual would actually work and your boyfriend would get stuck in another part of existence. 

notes: part two is finally here ! hope you guys enjoy it ^^ I really did NOT expect the first part to get so much attention but tysm for all the love ! I appreciate all of you very much <33 also, yes thats how this fic is gonna end there will NOT be a part three ;3 anywho, happy reading ! 

WC: 8969

PT1

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Matt?” You call out, your voice echoing rather loudly inside the empty elevator. You feel tears prick your eyes as you crouch down and take the discarded camera and horse necklace up off the floor. You practically cradle them both to your chest and shut your eyes tightly, your mind starting to spin as you begin to spiral. 

This can’t be happening.

The stupid ritual actually worked and Matt is gone. 

He’s stuck, by himself, in another plane of existence and you have no idea how to help him escape it. 

You should’ve persuaded him to not go. You should’ve been a good girlfriend and held him back. (As mean and selfish as that sounds) 

I mean if you didn’t let him go in the elevator the second time, this wouldn’t have happened right? Hell, if you didn’t let him go in the elevator period none of this would’ve happened. 

Sam and Colby probably would’ve gone in the elevator together. They could handle it, right? Of course, they could! They fucking professional ghost hunters for crying out loud! 

Forget about them… Matt is gone. Your boyfriend is gone and the chance of seeing him again is slim to none. What the fuck are you gonna do? 

You feel your chest tighten as you feel a lump form in your throat. As tears begin to cascade down your cheeks at a slow pace, you find it more difficult to breathe. Maybe it was because of the small space you were in or how your clothes were starting to become rather unbearable. 

Who are you kidding, Matt is fucking gone. 

You feel your chest tighten as you struggle to take air inside your lungs. The feeling made you panic more than you already were and you found yourself crawling back on your hands until your back hit the wall of the elevator. You hurriedly set the camera down next to you and begin to claw at your chest as you bring your knees up to your chest. 

As more choked sobs escape your lips, the muffled sound of footsteps approaches you. You see a tall figure in your peripheral vision but can’t distinguish who it is. Everything was so blurry and you couldn’t hear a thing except for your heartbeat that began beating loudly in your eardrums. 

You flinch rather harshly when you feel someone wrap their arms around you. You keep your head down as you allow the person to bring you against their chest. 

“y/n.” The person calls. They tap your shoulder a few times to get you to look up at them. At the sight of an all too familiar mop of red hair, you find yourself relaxing a little. “There you are! Look, I need you to listen to my voice okay? Can you hear me?” Nick asks, his voice nothing but soft as he looks down at your trembling frame. It takes a moment for you to register the male’s question but when it finally clicks, you slowly nod your head. 

“Okay, I need you to try your best and follow my breathing okay? Chris went to the car to grab some headphones and he’ll be back but as of right now, we need to try to ground ourselves okay? I’m right here. Just try to follow me.” 

You manage to focus your still slightly blurry vision on Nick’s mouth and wait for him to start going through a few simple deep breathing exercises before you attempt to follow. The moment you try to inhale, you immediately begin to cough your heart out. You shake your head with a small whimper and lean your head against the redhead’s bicep as you feel your heart tighten. 

“No, no, no. y/n, we need to try again. Come on, lift your head please.” Nick leans back a little to get you off him before he gently cups the side of your face, the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and pained expression as you begin hyperventilating breaking his heart. “Where the fuck is Chris? Does that mother fucker not know how to unlock a car and find a single pair of fucking headphones?” Nick looks behind him and locks eyes with Colby who’s looking down at the two of you worriedly. 

“He’s coming!” Sam exclaims, heavy exhales escaping his lips as he runs back to the three of you. 

“Fucking finally. God, my grandmother would be faster than his ass and she’s half fucking blind.” Colby smacks both of his hands over his face to muffle his laughter as Sam giggles and covers his mouth with his hand. Nick smiles softly and focuses his attention back on you as Chris runs up to the four of you. 

“Here. I could only find yours.” The younger pants out as he holds the redhead’s Apple headphones out in front of him. 

“That’s fine. What took you so fucking long?” Nick grumbles as he takes the headphones with his left hand and hurriedly digs in his pocket with the other. 

“I couldn’t find the car.” Nick quickly looks up and sends a glare to Chris who’s rubbing his nape and looking down at his shoes. 

“Of course you couldn’t.” After taking his phone out, the redhead quickly connects his headphones and opens up Spotify. “y/n look at me for a second. I need to put these on you.” You hesitantly comply and lift your head to allow the male to gently set his headphones on your head. After ensuring they’re comfortably over your ears, he quickly searches for a playlist that you and he often listen to and pushes play. The moment the soft beats of Halley’s Comet by Billie Eilish fill your ears, you find yourself claiming down nearly instantly. 

You shut your eyes and allow yourself to get absorbed in the music as you lean against Nick again. You feel the latter wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, one of his hands softly hitting your back in a steady rhythm. Your heartbeat begins to follow the beat made and you soon find yourself calming down. When you’re finally able to breathe properly, you let out a soft exhale and slowly open your eyes. 

“Thank you, Nick.” You mumble softly, a faint sniffle coming shortly after your comment. 

“Of course,” Nick replies with a small smile. The boys allow you to take a few minutes to get yourself together before you pull away from Nick’s embrace and pull the headphones off your head and set them around your neck. The redhead intently watches as you stand up to your feet, his eyes watching your every move as you heavily exhale and look down at Matt’s horse necklace in your hand. 

“We need to get him back. I don’t care what we have to do, I need him back.” You state as you lift your head and look at Sam and Colby who are a few steps away from you. 

“I don’t really know how to hit the rewind button on this ritual per se. I didn’t think it’d work so I didn’t bother looking up how to bring something back.” Sam says as he looks down and rubs his nape, his lips forming into a straight line as he stares at the floor. 

“Well if you guys don’t figure out a way to get Matt back, I will not hesitate to do this stupid ritual over and over again until it takes me to the same universe he’s in. I'm sorry if I sound like a total jackass but I literally can’t live without Matt. And neither can Chris and Nick. We all need him back” 

“Sam and I will scavenge the internet to try to find a way to fix this, promise. But as for right now, we need all of you guys to get out of the elevator.” Colby says, his voice soft as he mentions for you and Nick to step out. You exhale heavily and gently nod your head before you walk out of the elevator, Nick following close behind you. 

You immediately make your way over to Chris who’s sitting on a bench across from the elevator. You look over at the male after sitting next to him and gently tap his knee to snap him out of the faint daze he’s in. After a moment, the male finally looks over at you and a frown immediately takes over your features at the sight of the male’s tear-filled eyes. 

“Oh Chris…” You mumble. You quickly wrap an arm around the latter’s shoulder to pull him against your side. When you do, the male doesn’t hesitate to bury his face in your neck. 

“I want Matt back.” Chris mumbles, his voice breaking slightly as he bites back the tears threatening to spill from his glossy eyes. 

“I know. We all do.” As you begin to rub comforting circles on Chris’ back, Nick takes a seat on the other side of the male and joins your attempts of calming him down. 

“Hey, guys?” Colby calls, his voice echoing in the elevator and seeping out into the hall. 

“What’s up? You find something else?” Sam asks as he quickly makes his way over to the male. 

“Yes, actually. I found a note under the camera but I can’t decipher it for the life of me.” 

“What?” You quickly pick your head up and look over at Colby who’s stepping out of the elevator and looking intently at the camera in his hand. “Lemme see.” 

The ghost hunter makes his way over to you and takes a small sheet of yellow paper off the bottom of the camera. You watch as his eyes skim over it a few more times before he hands it to you. Colby was right. On the small yellow sheet was horrible handwriting that was in… 

Crayon? 

“It looks like a kid wrote it.” You say, your eyes squinting as you try your best to decipher the words written. 

“A kid?” Nick asks as he and Chris quickly turn around to look at you. Both boys lean closer to get a better look at the note in your hand, the same bewildered expressions appearing on their faces as they stare at the writing. 

“Yall don’t think that Samantha wrote it, right?” Chris asks as he rips his gaze away from the note to look up at Sam and Colby who are already looking down at the three of you. 

“I’m not sure... How could she send a note to us?” Sam asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, his face deep in thought as he also stares down at the note in your hand. 

“Wait, is the onvoy still out?” You ask as you hand the note to Nick who has his hand out in front of him, gesturing you to give him the small piece of paper. 

“Yeah, it’s right here,” Colby replies as he walks over to the said device that has been discarded in the middle of the floor. “You wanna ask something?”

“Yes please.” Colby gently nods his head and sets the onvoy next to you on the bench. You force your lips together in a straight line, a sudden surge of fear filling your veins as you stare down at the device. After inhaling and exhaling deeply, you ask your question. 

“Samantha, are you the one that wrote the note that’s under the camera?” 

Silence fills the lobby the moment the question escapes your lips. You take a glance up at Colby before you turn your attention back to the onvoy, nervousness filling your body as you begin to hear your heartbeat loudly in your ears. 

Why isn’t it- 

Your thought gets cut off when you feel a quick jab on the side of your thigh. Your breath quickly hitches as you flinch and quickly turn around, fear glossing over your eyes as you move closer to Chris. The moment you go to open your mouth to say something, the sound of the onvoy dinging alters the five of you. You quickly turn your head around at the sound and lean in closer to the onvoy to read the glowing response. 

“It says yes.” You read, quickly leaning away from the device after you feel a cold shiver run down your spine. 

“Wait, how the hell did she get the note to us?” Colby asks as he picks up the device and switches it off. 

“I have no clue. And I kinda don’t wanna know so.” You reply, your voice trailing off as you hug your torso. 

“I know what this says,” Nick states as he holds the yellow note in between his fingers. At the male’s statement, you and the rest of the boys quickly look over at him. 

“What does it say?” Chris asks as he leans against the redhead’s shoulder, smiling slightly as he manages to make him fall back a little. 

“It says mirror room but it’s just horribly misspelled. I mean it makes sense since Samantha is a literal child but.” Nick replies, a faint grunt escaping his lips as he pushes Chris off him and sits upright. 

“Mirror room?” Sam repeats, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he takes a glance over at Colby. 

“Is she talking about the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine?” Chris asks, his head slightly tilting to the side as he looks up at the two ghost hunters in front of him. The moment the question escapes Chris’ lips, a small giggle escapes you at the feeling of two pokes coming in contact with your side again. 

“Samantha, I am not built for this, please do this to Chris. He’s right here.” You beg as you quickly slam your arm firmly against your side. When you use your free hand to gently pat the younger triplet’s shoulder, the male’s face grows pale as his eyes widen in pure fear. 

“Why would you say that?” Chris asks through gritted teeth. “Samantha, she doesn’t mean it. Please keep messing with her, not me.”

“Wait, maybe Samantha is trying to communicate with us through y/n. You know, considering how she touched her immediately after Chris asked the question.” Colby says as he points a single finger towards you and he looks over at the blonde next to him. 

“Samantha, if you would like to communicate with us through y/n instead of the onvoy, could you poke her two times for us?” Sam asks, his question causing your jaw to drop to the floor. 

“Guys, this is fucked uP-!” You say, your speech getting cut off by you giggling at the feeling of two pokes being delivered on your side. Your giggles soon turn into a small whine as you cover your face with both your hands and lean against Chris’ arm. 

“Did she poke you once or twice?” Sam asks. 

“Twice.” You grumble in response. “This is so fucked up why me out of all of us?” 

Sam shrugs in response. “Not sure. But at least we know how to communicate with her better.” Colby nods his head at the blonde’s comment as he lands a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Now, Samantha, would you like us to go to the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine? Remember, one poke no, two pokes yes.” 

The moment the question is asked, you feel Chris jerk away from you, a stream of panicked giggles spewing from his lips as he reaches for Nick. 

“Thank you, Samantha.” You say aloud, a small smile visible on your lips as you look over at the two boys next to you. 

“Did she poke you, Chris?” Colby asks, a small laugh escaping him as he watches the latter hurriedly rub his left side. 

“Yeah. Twice.” Chris replies, a frown forming on his lips as sends a quick glare in your direction. At the male’s intense look, you give him an innocent smile and quickly jab your hand into his side. A chuckle escapes you when Chris lets out a choked laugh and stumbles off the bench. “Bro, this isn’t funny!” The male exclaims as he lays on the floor and covers his face with his hands. 

“It’s a little funny,” Nick says with a smile as he bends down to reach the younger male on the floor. He lands a quick poke near Chris’ underarm and giggles when the male squeals and rolls away from him. “Dude, you squeal like a little girl.” 

“Nick, I will fucking rock your shit. Don’t play with me right now.” Chris says through gritted teeth as he sits up and leans against his arms. Nick raises his hands in defense and takes a seat closer to you as Sam walks up to the male on the floor. 

“Come on, I think we should head over to The Mezzanine,” Sam says as he holds his hand out in front of him. Chris looks up at the blonde for a moment, a small smile sneaking onto his lips as he grabs his hand and allows the male to help him to his feet. “y/n you wanna lead the way?” 

You slide your tongue over your teeth as you look over at Sam, your stomach churning out of anxiousness before you quickly avert your gaze from him to Nick. When you turn to the male, the redhead gives you an encouraging smile and gets up. The moment he holds his hand out for you, you smile widely and grab it as you follow suit in getting up. 

“Yeah. Let's head over there.” 

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

“Okay, someone go in first I don’t fuck with the dark.” You say. After a few minutes of searching the hotel, you and the boys managed to find the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine. The moment you walked up to the doors and saw that the room was pitch black inside, you quickly backed away and walked behind Nick and grabbed both of his arms, basically making him your shield. 

“Hell no, I'm not going in first either!” Nick exclaims as he turns around and puts you back in front of him. 

“God, y'all are a bunch of pussys,” Chris mumbles as he walks past you and Nick to get to the door. After swiftly opening it, the male enters the large room and begins his short search for the light switch. Upon finding it, the boy turns all the lights on with a single flick of the finger. “Yall coming in or what?” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming.” You mumble, sending a look to Nick before you join Chris inside the room. As the rest of the boys trail behind you, you begin to wander deeper inside the room, your eyes staying glued onto the mirrors as you quickly observe them. 

“Okay, now why would Samantha bring us here? It’s just a room full of mirrors.” Nick asks, his eyes following your frame as you continue to walk around the room. 

“Maybe she left another note?” Colby suggests as he sets his backpack and camera down on the floor against the wall. 

“Let’s start looking around the-“ 

“Matt?” At your sudden exclamation, all the boys quickly whip their heads around in your direction. They silently watch as you run up to the mirror at the end of the room with wide eyes before they all run up after you.

“What happened?” Nick asks as he stops behind you and sets both his hands on your shoulders. 

“I saw Matt in the mirror.” You say, stumbling over your words slightly as you point to the mirror in front of you. “I managed to catch a glimpse of his hair before he walked to the left.” 

“Are you sure you saw him?” Colby asks, his voice holding a sense of uncertainty as he raises an eyebrow and looks up at the mirror in front of all of you. 

“I swear on my life it was Matt! I could recognize his ass from a mile away!” You slip away from the group to walk to the mirror to your left. The mirror that Matt walked towards. You stand in front of the said mirror and your hold on his horse necklace tightens as you desperately look around the glass. 

You needed to prove to the guys that you weren’t seeing things. They probably think you're going insane right now and you can’t have that. 

The moment you go to walk to the next mirror, you feel a small tug on your sleeve. You quickly jump away with wide eyes and cover the area where you got touched. 

“Samantha is that you?” You call out, your statement drawing the attention to the group of boys still standing in front of the other mirror. At the feeling of two small pokes on your knee, you heavily exhale and nod your head softly. “Can I see Matt in the mirrors?” Another two pokes. “See! She said yes!” 

“But how is that possible? You can’t see another person in a mirror unless they’re in front of it.” Sam says as he walks up to you, the rest of the boys following close behind him. 

“I have no idea how it’s possible but Samantha confirmed that I’m not going crazy.” You don't wait for the blonde to stop in front of you before you walk off to the next mirror. Sam stops in his tracks and looks back at Colby, a look of uncertainty clear on his face as he locks eyes with the male. The latter simply shrugs in response and pats the blonde’s shoulder before he, Nick, and Chris follow you. 

“Matt?” You call you again, your eyes desperately searching the mirrors in hopes of seeing your boyfriend again. You let out a frustrated huff when you reach the end of the wall. No Matt here. You quickly turn on your heels to begin your search on the other wall. The moment you walk up to the first mirror, your breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on an all too familiar mop of chocolate brown hair. “MATT!”  

You run up to the mirror showcasing your boyfriend curled up in a tight ball against a wall with both of his arms covering his head. The closer you got to the mirror, the more you could faintly make out his rapid and labored breaths. 

“Matt?” You shout as you delicately set your fingertips on the glass. You watch with wide eyes as Matt quickly looks up and whips his head around, trying to find who called him. 

“Hello?” The male calls out, his voice sounding rather muffled as he hurriedly stands up. 

“Matt it’s me, y/n! Can you hear me?” 

“y/n?..”

At the sound of quickening footsteps approaching you, you quickly turn around to see all the boys coming up to you. The same shocked expression can be seen on all of their faces as they look up at the mirror. 

“It’s fucking Matt.” Chris breathes, tears welling up in his eyes as he grabs onto Nick’s bicep.

“How the hell…” Colby mumbles.

“Matt!” Nick shouts as he drags Chris up to where you are standing directly in front of the mirror. 

“Nick?” Matt calls, his voice wavering slightly as he clutches his clothed chest. 

“Matt, we’re all here. Me, Nick, Chris, Sam, and Colby. Can you see us?” You ask. You all watch as Matt rubs his eyes with his palms and looks around aimlessly. 

“No...” Matt replies sadly as a frown overtakes his lips. 

“Matt, do you see a mirror anywhere by any chance?” Sam asks as he and Colby walk closer to the mirror. 

“Umm…” Matt’s voice trails off as he begins to walk around. The moment he goes to walk outside of the mirror, you all yell at him. 

“NO, MATT!” You all exclaim in unison. The male jumps at y’all’s exclamation and quickly walks back to where he was. 

“Look in front of you,” Chris instructs, a small giggle escaping him as he watches his brother cross his arms over his chest with a frustrated exhale. Matt complies and looks straight ahead, his eyes widening slightly when his gaze lands on a small mirror with a black frame. 

“I see one!” Matt exclaims as he quickly runs up to it. As he does so, he nearly takes up the entire space of the mirror the five of you are looking in, his tall frame looking over you guys as he scans the mirror on his side. You and the boys immediately begin to back up to get a better view of the male, small chuckles escaping a few of you at the sight of Matt mimicking a mine as he sets his hands on the glass. 

“Can you see us in-“ You cut yourself off when Matt suddenly yelps and jumps to the side. 

“What the fuc-“ The male starts, cutting himself off when he looks to his side and sees something. 

“What happened?” You ask, worry washing over you as you see Matt take a few steps back, his eyes wide in fear. 

“Samantha’s next to me.” 

“WHAT?” Chris exclaims, his jaw-dropping as he quickly whips his head around to face Sam and Colby, the two sharing the same expression as him. 

“Wait, we can’t see her,” Nick says, his eyebrows furrowing together as he over at the space that Matt is looking down at. You watch intently as Matt reaches his hand next to him, your eyes widening when you see a yellow sheet of paper appear in his hand moments later. 

“That’s the same sheet that was under the camera,” Colby states, earning a small head nod from you and the other boys. 

“Thanks,” Matt says slowly. You see the male smile slightly before he looks down at the paper in his hand. “Awh, this is wonderful Samantha thank you.” 

“What’d she give you?” The moment the question slips out of Sam’s lips, Matt flips the paper over and holds it against the mirror, allowing the five of you to see it. You can’t help the large smile appearing on your lips when your eyes land on the shark drawn with a blue crayon on the yellow sheet of paper. 

“Awh, that’s so cute!” Chris gushes as he jumps a few times. 

“Do they like it?” You hear a small voice ask. Collective gasps emit from you and the boys the second you guys hear the voice. 

“Yes, they love it,” Matt confirms with a smile. A small, high-pitched giggle rings through your ears before Matt faces the mirror again. “Guys I'm fucking petrified here please bring me back.” 

“We’re not finding anything on how to get you back, Matt,” Colby says, a frown appearing on his lips. Matt covers his face with both his hands as a shaky exhale escapes him. You find yourself shaking your head slightly as you force your lips together and dig your hand in your pocket to take your phone out. The moment you unlock the device, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” Nick says softly, his minty breath fanning over the right side of your face as he peers down at your phone. 

“Trying to find a way on how to bring Matt back.” You reply, your thumbs quickly tapping the screen as you google the ritual Matt did in the elevator. Silence fills the room as you type away on your phone, your eyebrows knitting together as a determined and focused expression spreads across your face. 

“Home?” You quickly pick your head up the second Samantha’s voice fills your ears. You watch Matt remove his hands from his face, your expression falling into one of worry at the sight of your boyfriend’s glossy eyes, before he looks down at the space he was looking at previously. 

“What was that?” Matt asks softly, a small sniffle escaping him as he quickly wipes away the tear that escapes his eye. 

“You wanna go home?” You hear Samantha ask. 

“Yes, I really wanna go home,” Matt replies as he furiously nods his head. 

“You don’t belong here?” 

“No, I don’t. I belong somewhere else.” 

“Where?” 

“Just somewhere else.” 

“With y/n?” You feel your heart skip a beat the moment your name escapes the little girl’s lips. 

Matt’s eyes widen and his words get caught in his throat for a moment before he hurriedly replies. “Yes with y/n. With my two brothers and friends too.” 

“How did you get here if you don’t belong here?” 

“I decided to play a little game that I shouldn’t have played by myself.” 

“What game?” 

“Just a little game in the elevator.” 

“Oh! I know that one!” 

Matt’s face falls into one of worry the moment Samantha answers. “You do?..” Matt asks, his voice trailing off as he takes a glance over at the mirror next to him. 

“Yes! I like to play it with my friends! We get to go somewhere else if it works! It’s a lot of fun.” 

“Wait, do you know how to take me back to where I belong then?” 

“You belong in the place where me and my friends go?” 

“Yes! Yes, I do.” As you hear the small girl hum softly, you quickly turn around to look back at the boys behind you. 

“She knows about the elevator game.” You say, your voice soft and low as you try to not get Samantha to hear you. 

“Let’s hope she knows how to send Matt back,” Chris adds as he begins to nibble on his bottom lip. 

“I think so.” You hear Samantha say. You could tell she was rather unsure with her reply due to her voice going up a few octaves at the end of her sentence. 

“Could you try to send me back, please?” Matt asks as he looks down at the girl, a pleading expression clear on his face. 

“Yeah! Come with me!” Without allowing the male to get another word out, Samantha grabs Matt’s hand and pulls him away and out of the mirror. The second the male vanishes, your face drops and you quickly turn around to face the boys behind you. 

“We have to go back to the lobby. Now.” You state, giving all the males a stern look before you exit the Maximilian. 

“y/n, wait up!” Nick exclaims as he begins to run after you, the other three boys soon running after the both of you. 

Matt’s POV

The constant colors of blue and yellow have been blinding my vision the entire time I’ve gotten to this universe. This world is a replica of the regular world apart from the fact that the majority of this world is in those two colors. While wandering around this universe’s hotel, I did encounter a hallway that was a different color. However, I didn't think about walking down it considering how it was a deep red color. And if my representations of colors were correct, I know that you should always stray away from red since it’s often tied to danger. 

Honestly speaking, I didn’t expect this elevator ritual to work so when it did, I had a full-blown freakout. I mean, why would I not? I’m in a different universe and couldn’t contact anyone. Not to mention how the camera I was using to record myself and my horse necklace completely vanished into thin air the second I got ‘transferred’ over here. 

Adding to my list of things I didn’t expect, I didn’t expect to be able to see hundreds of spirits walking around. No one seemed to care about how I was there and kept going on their merry way, floating around the hotel grounds as I wandered around like a lost child in a grocery store. I almost gave up on my search trying to figure out where the hell I was and how to get out but when I heard y/n’s voice, I gained a little bit of hope. But the fact that I couldn’t see her and the rest of the guys frustrated me heavily. And they could somehow see me? I have no idea how that makes sense but I didn’t even bother asking because I was sure they wouldn’t have an answer. 

My first encounter with Samantha while I was talking with y/n was absolutely terrifying. The little girl that I saw in a painting was standing next to me and communicating with me. She had a bright yellow aura surrounding her, which was a great contrast to the other spirits who held a dull gray one. I’m assuming that she was the only one who had this aura because she’s a kid and still has that child-like innocence to her. But the moment she mentioned that she and her friends played the elevator game for fun, I could not believe my ears. 

I mean, she doesn’t know better and probably thinks it’s all fun and games but to me, it’s the complete opposite. That little game of hers got me here in the first place. Now, I'm not blaming her because she's a literal child and has no control over this but the elevator game being fun??? That’s just mind-boggling. 

“Wait, where are we going?” I ask, my eyes squinting as Samantha’s aura begins to blind me. 

“The elevator, silly!” The little girl replies, a small giggle emitting from her smiley lips as she continues to drag me down the blue and yellow hallways. A small sigh escapes my lips as I continue to let Samantha lead me to the first floor, thankfully with the use of the stairs, and to the lobby where the elevators were. “Get in!” With a small push of a button, the elevator doors open to reveal a purple-filled space with blotches of yellow coating the brims of the elevator walls. 

“Good to know there’s no red in here,” I mumble under my breath.

“What did you say?” Samantha quickly turns around on her heels, her dress momentarily twirling around her as she looks up at me with large doe eyes. 

“Nothing.” I give the girl a small smile before I enter the elevator. I immediately excuse myself to go to the corner as Samantha enters right after me. As she walked up to the panel of buttons, I could faintly hear her humming a soft tune, her body subconsciously swaying along to the tune. After pushing the button for the first floor, she turns back around and walks up to me. 

“Will you come back to visit me?” Samantha asks with a large toothy grin. I feel my heart ache as the small girl looks up at me. As I force my lips into a straight line, I begin to have a small mental battle about whether or not I should be honest with her. 

“I’m not sure, Sammy. I really wanna go back home.” I reply softly. 

“Can I come with you?” The moment Samantha asks me that question, I feel my heart drop. Panic immediately fills my body as I blink down at the girl in front of me. 

“No, I'm sorry. You need to stay here with your friends. They’ll miss you if you don’t come back.” 

As Samantha’s smile forms into a pout, the elevator dings faintly before the doors open. I watch as the small girl turns around and goes to push the next floor, her pout not faltering.

“y/n seems nice,” Samantha says softly as she makes her way back to me. 

“She is a wonderful girl. I’m very lucky to have her in my life.” I comment as my lips form into another large smile. 

“I think she’s scared of me.” My smile falls into a slight frown as I look down at Samantha. 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Every time I try to get her attention, she always looks so scared. She hasn’t looked as scared the last few times I poked her but I know she’s scared of me.” As Samantha picks her head up to look at me, I feel my heart shatter as I take in her large and glossy doe eyes. “Am I scary?”

“Oh no, not at all Sammy.” The moment I open my arms, Samantha runs closer to me and crashes into me. As I wrap my arms around her and gently pat her head, the small girl nuzzles her face into my stomach. 

“Are you sure?” Samantha asks, her voice cracking as tears begin to run down her small face. 

“I’m sure, sweetheart. You are not scary at all. In fact, you are quite adorable and so sweet.” I reassure the girl as I begin to run her back comfortingly. As Samantha sniffles softly, the faint ding of the elevator doors opening causes me to lift my head. I let out a small sigh before I bend down and lift the girl into my arms. As I make my way over to the panel of buttons, Samantha wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head against my shoulder. 

Carrying this small kid has to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced. She practically weighs nothing and my skin is tingling. 

Why am I tingling?.. 

“Hey, Sam?” I call, my index finger gently poking the said girl’s side. I smile softly when she squirms away with a high-pitched giggle. 

“Yes?” Samantha replies as she lifts her head off my shoulder to look over at me. 

“What floor do we go to next?” 

“Six!” 

“Alright, thank you.” Samantha hums softly in response and returns to her spot on my shoulder. After I push the bottom to the sixth floor, I walk back to the corner I was previously at. Comfortable silence fills the elevator as I continue to hold Samantha close against me, her soft breath tickling my neck as she begins to faintly hum the same tune from earlier. 

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

Your POV 

You find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the elevator as Salt In The Wound by boygenius fills your ears. You can see Sam and Colby talking to one another in your peripheral vision, however you can’t make out their voices due to the headphones on your head. 

You had no idea how to wrap your head around what happened 15 minutes ago. You thought you lost Matt for good yet you were able to talk with him through a mirror. The whole thing sorta of reminded you of Bloody Mary but minus all the scary aspects. The fact that Matt was able to physically see and communicate with Samantha while he was in the other universe was pretty shocking to you. You hope that the girl will stay true to her word and help your boyfriend back in this world. 

God knows you desperately need him back. 

You get snapped out of your pacing and your daze by a small tap on your shoulder. You flinch rather harshly and rip the headphones off your head, your eyes mimicking those of a deer caught in headlights as you stare wide-eyed at the person who tapped you. 

“Fucking hell, Chris. You scared the shit out of me.” You say as you clutch your chest. 

“My bad.” Chris apologizes with a small smile. “Nick wants you to eat something.” At the male’s statement, you turn your head and immediately make eye contact with Nick who’s holding his hand out, an open pack of fruit snacks on the palm of his hand. At the sight of the snack, your mouth shapes into a small oval before you scurry over to the redhead and take a seat next to him. The moment the male hands you the pack, you shoot him a large toothy grin before you indulge in the snack. 

“I can’t be the only one who can’t believe what just happened,” Colby says as he rubs the side of his face with his hand. 

“No, I can’t either. That was fucking insane.” Nick agrees as he quickly points over to the male before he fishes another pack of fruit snacks from his pocket. 

“It reminded me of Bloody Mary a little bit. You know since they both deal with mirrors.” Sam chimes in as he nibbles on a single club cracker. 

“Me too!” You exclaim, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as you continue chewing on your gummies. 

“Do you guys really think that Samantha will help Matt? I mean, she is a little kid after all.” Nick asks as he stuffs a few fruit snacks in his mouth. 

“I don’t know but I hope she’s able to bring him back.” You reply as you sigh gently and continue chewing. 

“Hey guys?” Chris calls. You and the rest of the boys quickly look over at the male who’s looking at the elevator with slightly wide eyes. 

“What’s up?” Sam asks as he lifts himself off the wall he’s leaning against to walk over to the youngest triplet. 

“Was the elevator always on the fifth floor?” Your head quickly turns to look over at the number atop the elevator. And low and behold was the number five shining brightly above the golden doors. 

“Wait, why is it blue?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you stare at the bluish glow emitting around the number. “Wasn’t it always white?”

“Yeah, it was…” Colby replies, his voice trailing off as he takes a stand next to you. “That’s weird.” 

The moment you go to fix your gaze back to the half-empty pack of gummy snacks in your hand, the sound of Chris gasping rather loudly causes you to pick your head up again. 

“What’d I miss?” You ask quickly as you look over at the male. 

“The number is going down,” Chris replies as he points up to the number shining brightly atop of elevator doors. Your eyes widen the moment that statement escapes Chris’ lips and you quickly look over at the elevator again. 

“What the actual fuck…” You hear Nick mumble next to you. You feel your heart beat loudly in your ears as you watch the number above the elevator slowly go down. The moment the number one appears, your eyes quickly shift over to the elevator doors. You had no idea what was happening but you knew that the elevator arrived at the floor all of you were currently on. It could be that another person is taking the elevator and they’re coming to the lobby but why was it stuck on the fifth floor? 

You get pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a small ding coming from the elevator. Subconsciously, you reach over to Nick and grab his hand for mental support as you hear your heartbeat quicken in your ears. After a few moments, the elevator doors slowly begin to open. After it finally opens halfway and you don’t see anyone, your gaze falls back to the pack of fruit gummies in your hand. 

Stupid fucking haunted ele-

“MATT!” You hear Nick exclaim, his hold on your hand vanishing as he quickly gets up and runs to the elevator. You quickly pick your head up at the mention of your boyfriend’s name and see all the boys rushing inside the elevator. Your mind seems to lag for a minute as you sit there, frozen, until you finally get back to reality and join everyone in the elevator. You nudge your way through the small crowd of boys to get to the middle and the moment you see an all too familiar set of blue eyes look down at you, tears immediately begin to well in your eyes. 

“Matt.” You sob. You immediately crash into your boyfriend’s arms when he walks closer to you and opens his arms out. You bury your face into Matt’s chest and curl your fingers against his clothed back as a steady flow of tears runs down your cheeks. “You’re back.” 

“I'm back, I'm right here,” Matt whispers softly as he begins to land soft kisses on the top of your head. The male shuts his eyes tightly and takes in your comforting scent as he begins to tear up himself. 

“I thought I’d never see you again.” You remove yourself from Matt’s chest to look up at him. “Never do that shit again. I won’t let you.” 

“I won’t, I promise.” Matt brings a hand up to the left side of your cheek to cup your face, this thumb beginning to wipe away your tears as he locks eyes with you. A few beats of silence pass by before the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts y’all’s small moment. 

“I apologize for interrupting but I’m feeling quite claustrophobic here,” Nick says as he gestures to the small space around him.  

“Yeah, and I think I’d like to leave this trauma-inducing elevator,” Matt adds with a smile, his statement earning faint laughs from all the boys. You watch as all the guys file out of the elevator and walk back into the lobby. Before you grab Matt’s hand to pull him out with you, you turn back to face the male with a small smile. The brunette shifts his gaze down towards you and smiles softly before you decide to grab his face and pull him down to capture his lips for a quick kiss. 

“Never thought I’d be able to kiss you again.” You say after you pull back, the same smile visible on your lips. 

“Hey! No sucking face in the elevator!” You both hear Chris exclaim. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the boy’s statement before you take Matt’s hand in yours and pull him out of the elevator. 

“I think it’s safe to call it a night,” Colby says, a heavy exhale escaping his lips as he picks his backpack up off the floor. 

“I thought we still had the Estes Method to do,” Chris says, his eyebrows furrowing as he watches the two ghost hunters collect their equipment. 

“Well…” Sam starts as he detaches the light from one of the cameras. “We do but a lot has gone down and I think we should wrap things up here. Right, Matt?” 

“Most definitely. I saw and interacted with enough spirits today.” Matt confirms as he rapidly nods his head in agreement. 

“We can pick up another day if you guys want. I think we have plenty of footage for the video but we’ll release something at the end explaining what happened with Matt without giving away too much information.” Colby suggests as he swings his bag over his shoulder, one of his hands resting against the strap to hold it in place. 

“We can pick back up in two days,” Nick says, taking a glance over at Matt and Chris and waiting to gain small head nods of approval from them before he looks back at Sam and Colby. “We do have another week here.” 

“Well, let us know. You guys do not have to continue the investigation if y'all don’t want to. As Colby said, we should have enough footage for the video.” Sam reassures, a small smile appearing on his lips as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.  

“We will,” Matt says with a smile of his own. 

“Well, we’ll see you guys later. We still have that dinner reservation in three days so don’t forget!” Colby exclaims as he points a finger at all of you. 

“We won’t.” Chris chuckles. “Thanks for inviting us guys!” 

“Dude, of course.” You and the triplets begin to share quick hugs with Sam and Colby before the six of you begin to head towards the exit of the hotel. Upon arriving at the front doors, Matt holds the door open for you to allow you to be the first person to step outside. When you do, you take in your first breath of fresh air with a content smile. 

“God, how much I missed seeing the outside world.” You sigh as you turn around to face the rest of the boys. 

“Oh me too.” Colby agrees with a rapid head nod. 

“We’ll see y'all later! You guys make it back to your hotel safely.” Matt says as he walks up to you, his left hand instinctively going to reach out to grab yours 

“Yall too! Goodnight guys!” Sam shouts with a large smile as he and Colby wave goodbye to the four of you. You and the triplets bid farewell to the ghost hunters before walking through the parking lot in search of the van. 

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see a car in my entire life,” Matt mumbles as he takes his car keys out. As the male unlocks the car, you giggle softly and watch as Nick and Chris hop in the back. Matt looks over at you and lands a quick kiss on your forehead before he brings you to the passenger door. You slip inside the car with a small smile when the male opens it and gently shuts it when you get yourself situated in your seat. 

“God I'm fucking exhausted.” Nick breathes as leans against the car window, his eyes shutting in the process. 

“Ima knock out. I kid you not.” Chris adds as he pulls his seatbelt over his body. 

“Y'all better wake the hell up when we get to the hotel. I’m not carrying y'all up to the room.” Matt says as he slips in the driver's seat, a soft thud coming from the door after he shuts it. 

You manage to catch Nick making a talking gesture with his hand in your peripheral vision as you look over at Matt. You watch silently as the male puts his seatbelt on and pulls the gearshift down to drive. Before he begins to drive off, he looks over at you and sends you a large smile before capturing your lips for a quick kiss. 

“I’m never leaving your side again.” You say as you shift in your seat to lean your head against the cold window. 

“Same here. I’m never letting you out of my sight.” Matt smiles as he takes a glance at all his mirrors. After backing out of his parking spot, your boyfriend reaches over to grab your hand as he finally drives off. As the male gently caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, you find yourself drifting off into a deep slumber. 

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

A week later… 

“Okay Matt, this is starting to scare me. Do I need to make you an appointment right now?” 

“No, I'm fine.” 

“Matt you’ve been on the floor for the past five minutes and you look like you’re fucking giving birth. You are clearly not fine.” 

“What’s happening?” You ask as you walk inside the warehouse, the door shutting close behind your heels as you forcefully pull it shut.

“Look at your boyfriend,” Nick says as he points down at the said male. You follow the redhead’s finger and worry washes over you when you see Matt curled up on the floor, his eyes screwed shut as a pained expression paints his face. You quickly set the McDonald's bags in your hands down on the nearby sofa before hurrying over to Matt. 

“Baby, this is the third time I’ve found you like this this week.” You say as you sit down near the brunette’s head. After Matt doesn’t say anything and simply rests his head in your lap, you let out a small sigh and begin to card your hand through the male’s hair. “Is it still your lower back?” 

Matt gently nods his head. “It really fucking hurts. It’s like a bunch of tiny needles pricking my skin. It feels so weird and tingly.” Matt mumbles, a sharp hiss escaping him shortly after he finishes his sentence. 

“Matt, again?” You hear Chris ask, his footsteps becoming louder as he walks into the room. You hear the male sigh before you take a glance up at him. 

“You guys are acting like I'm in control of this fucking happening. Cut me some slack, holy shit.” Matt grumbles as he digs his face into your thigh. 

“Have you texted Sam or Colby?” Chris asks, averting his question to you as he raises a single brow. 

“No… why would I?” You question back, your eyebrows knitting in confusion as you send the male a look. 

“I have a gut feeling that they have an idea about what’s happening. Just saying.” Chris shrugs as he makes his way to the McDonald's bags on the sofa. You shake your head with a small chuckle when the male digs in one of the bags and takes out his food before he walks off. 

“Should I text one of them?” You ask as you look over at Nick who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. 

“You can if you want. It’ll shut Chris up.” The redhead replies with a shrug. You gently nod your head and pull your phone out of your pocket. “Maybe text Colby. He responds a lot quicker than Sam.” You give Nick a thumbs-up before opening your chat with Colby. You twirl your thumbs around the keyboard for a moment trying to figure out what to say before you finally start typing. 

You: hey colby ? I have a question to ask you 

Colby: Ask away! 

You: so matt has been having these pains in his back and i was wondering if you had an idea as to why he’s been having them 

I know it’s random but chris had a hunch that you guys might know soo … 

Colby: His back…? 

You: yea

Colby: Like his lower? Upper? 

You: lower 

Colby: Oh shit

You: what … what’s wrong 

Colby: I think Matt got an attachment 

You: a WHAT ?!?

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[floralcyanide]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day eight ⛧ edging

Ethan Landry x Reader

Ethan decides to ask you a personal question, which leads to an interesting study session.

warnings: smut, edging, mutual masturbation, friends to lovers, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, masturbation, fingering, nipple play

word count: 1694

author's note: once again so sorry this is late I'm trying to catch up as we speak lol I hope yall enjoy!! I love writing for Ethan. he's so my type fr. anyway I enjoy feedback so let me know what you think!! (:

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this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

You were not expecting your best friend to ask the question he just asked. Yet, a part of you was excited because maybe, just maybe, this could go somewhere. 

“Have you ever masturbated in front of someone?” Ethan had asked abruptly, looking up from his homework with a thoughtful look on his face.

“What?” you nearly choked on your spit at the sudden and personal question.

“Have you ever touched yourself in front of, like, a partner? Or anyone else?”

“No, why?”

Ethan shrugged, “Just wondering.”

You’re now sitting in a weird silence, both of you studying without a word. Sometimes, you’ll glance at Ethan and catch him already staring at you. Clearing your throat, you try your best to focus on your task, pushing away the image of Ethan touching himself with you in the room that’s clouding your mind. 

“Would you like to?” Ethan boldly asks, and you keep your head down in your book without looking at him.

“Like to what?” you ask innocently, wondering where he’s going with this.

“Look at me,” Ethan says, “Please.”

You hesitantly look up at your best friend of many years, your face warming from how he stares at you.

“Would you ever like to fuck yourself with someone watching?”

“Why are you asking me this, Eth?” you sigh, hoping this isn’t some sick joke of his.

“Because I’d watch,” Ethan says quietly, his eyes darkening.

“And just what made you think of this? Are you watching too much porn again?” you quirk an eyebrow at him, a teasing smirk on your face.

“No,” Ethan rolls his eyes, closing his book and setting it aside, “I want you.”

“You want me?” you close your laptop and book, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Ethan says, crawling from his sitting position in front of you to hover over your frame, “I fucking need you.”

You grab Ethan’s face and capture him in a passionate kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth to explore it. Ethan moans softly, his hands finding your hair as he lays down on your dorm bed you two were sitting on, pulling you on top of him. You rest your clothed core on his, pressing yourself into him as you deepen the kiss. Your hands are pressed into Ethan’s cheeks, afraid that if you let go, he’ll disappear and that this is some wonderful dream of yours. Ethan pulls away from the kiss and presses his lips along your jaw and neck, leaving small bites along his path. He finds the sweet spot between your ear and neck, suckling on it as he bears his teeth into the skin. You moan, moving your hips against Ethan’s as you feel yourself getting turned on. 

“Lay down,” Ethan demands, guiding you off him.

You do as told, lying beside him in your confined twin-size bed. 

“Now take off your clothes,” Ethan says, stripping himself of his shirt.

Say less, you think to yourself. You aren’t sure what’s gotten into your best friend, but you aren’t complaining. You’ve been waiting, imagining, and wishing for this moment for so long. You aren’t about to throw it away because you’re a tad curious. So, you keep your mouth shut, pull off your pants and underwear, and shimmy out of your shirt and bra. Ethan discards his clothes, too, and he can’t keep his eyes off your body.

“God, you’re more perfect than I imagined,” he sighs, wishing he could touch you.

But he wants to see you pleasure yourself with his help first.

“How do you normally masturbate?” Ethan asks, his cheeks warming from the invasive question.

“Uh,” you stutter, “I start with teasing myself just to get started. But I don’t have to do that now.”

“Why not?” 

You grab Ethan’s hand and press it to your slick cunt, letting him feel how wet you are already.

“Fuck,” he mutters, yanking his hand away, “Still, I wanna see you tease yourself. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, desperate for any form of touch, even if it wasn’t Ethan’s. Starting with your breasts, you begin kneading them with your hands, brushing your fingers along your nipples. Ethan watches closely as your nipples harden, and you start rolling them between your fingers. You moan quietly, almost soft enough to not be heard. Getting a little bold, you tug at the sensitive buds, twisting them as your hips buck slightly upward from the action. You let out a louder moan this time. Ethan’s hand wanders to his hardening cock, and he slowly drags his hand along his shaft. He picks up his speed when you slide your hands up and down your body, goosebumps rising on your skin and hardening your nipples more. Feeling hot everywhere, especially your pulsing cunt, you start circling your clit with your middle finger, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sensation.

“Fuck,” Ethan exhales, eyes flickering up to yours as you meet his gaze.

And you keep your focus on him as you slide your index finger inside your dripping entrance. You start swiping your clit with your thumb now, slowly moving your finger in and out of yourself as Ethan watches your pupils dilate. He swipes his thumb over his head, spreading the precum around to add some lubrication. Ethan’s hand is now steadily pumping his cock, and you’re astonished at how big it is. You imagined him to be a decent size, but after actually seeing his cock, you’re pretty sure he’d break you in half. You add your middle finger as you pick up speed, fucking yourself with your fingers at the same pace as Ethan was fucking himself. You both moan at the same time and then laugh at the fact. Hitting that familiar spongy spot inside you, you bite your lip as your hips jerk up. Your thumb presses harder into your clit, and you’re getting close.

“Don’t cum,” Ethan says quickly, and you look at him confused, “Don’t cum until I say.”

“Don’t cum until I say, then either,” you say sassily, “Gotta make it fair.”

Ethan huffs, “Fine.”

Now your ultimate goal is to make Ethan cum. So you add a third finger, tossing one of your legs over his to open yourself further. The sound of your arousal pushing in and out of you makes Ethan twitch in his fist, but he takes a deep breath to compose himself. You tweak your nipples with your free hand, causing yourself to clench around your fingers. You whimper at the feeling of an impending orgasm that isn’t allowed to come yet. So you stop teasing your breasts as much, much to Ethan’s dismay. You watch as Ethan reaches down to his balls, rolling them in his hand as he fucks into his hand, mouth agape in pleasure.

“Is pretty boy gonna cum too early?” you tease.

“Nope,” Ethan shakes his head, “Are you?”

“Nuh-uh,” you say, “I can last a while.”

“Not with my cock, you won’t.”

A wave of arousal washes over you at Ethan’s words, and you move your hand from your nipple to your clit, rubbing it with two fingers. You’re so close it’s almost painful.

“I wanna cum,” you pout.

“Not yet,” Ethan says, hiding his own frustration the best he can.

You groan, adding a third finger to swipe at your clit you keep your speed slow. Ethan is getting close too, and his cock turns an angry red at the lack of release. For the third time, you feel the familiar rush of arousal begging to wash over you. Your clit was throbbing, and your walls clenched desperately around your fingers. You slide a fourth one inside you, staring into Ethan’s eyes as you do so.

“See what you’re doing to me?” you whine, “I can never take this many usually.”

“Mmm,” Ethan closes his eyes for a moment, “All stretched out for my big cock now, huh?”

“I’ll let you fuck me if you let us both cum.”

Ethan’s eyes fly open, “Fine. But you can only cum if I’m inside you. So work yourself up until you can't take anymore.”

You bite your lip to keep from retorting and start rubbing your clit with your whole hand as you fuck yourself with four fingers, curling them into your g spot. Ethan jerks his hips forward, letting himself get lost in the tightness of his hand, imagining it’s you.

“Ethan,” you warn, breathless.

You don’t have to say anything else before Ethan climbs over you, snatching your hand from your pussy and putting it in his mouth. He sucks your juices from your fingers as he pushes himself inside your gaping entrance. Your cunt happily clenches around him, sucking in his length and girth without a hitch. Your hand on your clit is switched for Ethan’s as he vigorously rubs it and starts moving in and out of you quickly, your highs building back up. He pushes your legs as far apart as they’ll go, spreading your lips open so your little bundle of nerves is more accessible, and he goes deeper inside you. Ethan is fucking you hard and fast and hitting your cervix at the perfect angle enough that you feel your orgasm coming on quickly.

“I’m,” you say, and then your words fail you as your body shakes and you gush around Ethan, your cunt clenching hard around him as your orgasm rips through you.

“F-fuck,” Ethan drawls, pounding into you as you ride out your intense release, almost an hour of edging making it a long one.

Ethan stills inside you and cums hard, his release painting your velvet walls white. He shudders, and then panic washes over him.

“Are you on something? I forgot to ask-”

“I’m on the pill,” you say breathlessly, your chest heaving, “You’re all good.”

“Thank God,” Ethan raises his brows before pulling out of you slowly, watching as the mixture of cum and arousal seeps from you. 

“That was so hot,” you giggle, “What got into you?”

“You were right,” Ethan lays down next to you, “Too much porn.”

“Well, now you don’t need porn,” you joke, “You have me.”

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[mionemymind]

The Actress & The Geek

Summary: A late night practice causes Y/n and Wanda to confess their feelings.

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Slight Angst

A/n: I might post another one shot like this with a similar layout but different setting, like what if they needed an understudy? Would y’all want that?

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

“Wandaaaa, where are you taking me?” Y/n annoyingly asked. Her newfound friend, Wanda Maximoff, dragged her to the College’s stage room. “I need help practicing my lines and you’re the only person I know who would be up at this time.”

Y/n glanced at the hallway clock, it was close to midnight and by now, Wanda’s friends were either partying or asleep. “I don’t know why you’re panicking so much. Everyone knows you’re going to get the part.”

Wanda pushed through the doors and excitedly ran up the stage, leaving Y/n by the bottom of the steps. “You don’t know that. I heard rumors that Violet might get it over me.” Y/n sighed at Wanda’s poor excuse of a lie. “Now stop being a baby and come over here.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and slowly walked up the steps and in front of Wanda. “Turn to page 214. I’ll start us off, okay?” Y/n reluctantly opened the script and turned to the page. Once Wanda saw that Y/n was ready, she started.

“Did I do something?” Wanda asked nervously, a hint of hurt in her tone. Y/n was stunned for a moment at how quickly Wanda got into character. Not wanting to disappoint her friend, Y/n tried her best to act in the scene.

“What makes you ask that?” Wanda walked away with a sigh as she combed her hand through her hair. “Are you seriously acting clueless right now?” Wanda gave Y/n a ridiculous look.

“Answering with a question doesn’t quite help-”

“You’re avoiding me.” A small pause happened in the script as Y/n and Wanda stared at each other. Y/n turned away, “I honestly don’t know what you mean.”

Wanda groaned and stomped back to Y/n. She spun her around and grabbed her hand. “Quit acting like a child and talk to me.” Wanda’s character was desperate to hear anything from Y/n, her eyes pleaded for some truth.

“I don’t know if I can tell you.” Wanda’s mouth twitched into a frown. She dropped Y/n’s hand and took a step back. Looking at the ground, Wanda played with her hands, unable to look at Y/n. “You used to tell me everything…but now you barely hang out with me anymore.”

Wanda’s eyes started to water, she started to walk away until Y/n’s character held her hand. “If I tell you-,” Y/n groaned as her character didn’t know what the best choice of words was going to be. In a softer tone, she says, “If I tell you…we can’t go back to the way things were.”

Wanda appeared scared of the truth but things had already changed ever since Y/n became distant. So who cares if the truth changes everything? Maybe now it will help this obstacle between them.

“I-,” Y/n’s eyes looked over Wanda’s shoulder, acting as if there was a character back there. “Tell me you’re not in love with him,” Y/n desperately begged. Wanda looked back, her hand still in Y/n’s, and pretended to see somebody.

She faced Y/n again, searching Y/n’s eyes for the meaning behind this. “What?” Y/n pulled Wanda closer, their faces inches apart. “Tell me you’re not in love with him.”

“Why does that matter?” Wanda challenged. Y/n gulped at how little space was between them but still pushed through with the character. “Because if you’re in love with him - I cannot be with you.”

Wanda acted as if someone called her name, but on cue, Y/n cupped Wanda’s cheek and kissed her briefly. “Find me - when you do, tell me you feel the same.” Y/n let go of Wanda’s hand and backed away to the other side of the stage, leaving Wanda at the center.

With wide eyes, Wanda touched her lips, the feeling of Y/n’s lips lingered. Her brain rumbled for the next line, but all she could focus on was Y/n. “Uh Wanda, did you want to finish the scene or?”

“You kissed me,” Wanda whispered to herself, surprised that it happened. “Did you want to kiss me?” Wanda only dreamed of a moment like this ever since she met Y/n back in the fall semester. She remembered bumping into Y/n on day one of rehearsal. Ever since then, they’ve always remained friends, until the day Wanda wanted something more.

In the basement of the party, Wanda sat with a group of her friends that go way back to high school and her castmates from the play. Y/n sat beside her already five shots deep into the night. Everyone was socializing and having a great time as the play had phenomenally gone well.

“We should play spin the bottle,” one of the crew techs said. Everyone was in some agreement wanting to spice the night up. “Okay, I’ll go first,” Steve said. The semester was close to an end and all Steve wanted to do was loosen up. He spent the majority of the semester worrying about his grades, his scholarship, and his football career.

The bottle spun and low and behold, it landed on the very person he wanted to kiss. “You down Bucky?” The liquor in Steve gave him the confidence he needed, otherwise he would have hidden. “You don’t even have to ask.” The two met in the middle for a slow but passionate kiss.

The group screamed with delight as Bucky deepened the kiss, almost going in with his tongue. “Okay you two, break it up!” Bucky pulled away with a charming grin on his face as Steve sat back looking love-struck. “Up next!”

Carol was next to spin, “God, I hope I get a good kisser,” Y/n whispered yelling into Wanda’s ear. The brunette forced a grin as she suddenly felt ill at the thought of someone else kissing you. She tried to think of something clever to say but nothing came out.

Focusing back on the group, Carol had just gotten done kissing Maria, another duo in Wanda’s group that had crushes on each other. It was now Y/n’s turn. She spun the bottle with great anticipation of who she was going to kiss tonight.

Slowly but surely, the bottle was making its last spins until it passed Wanda and stopped to the girl beside her, Natasha. Wanda could feel her heart drop as the two girls looked at each other with mischievous smiles. “Looks like you have to kiss me Y/n - don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Wanda closed her eyes as she saw the pair leaning in, praying it would be over quickly. And when she opened them back up, she couldn’t help but wish that the bottle landed on her.

“Yeah - I mean it was in the script. I didn’t - I thought you wanted me to commit to it.” Y/n walked back to Wanda scared that she accidentally hurt her friend. “Was it fake for you?” Y/n stood still for a moment, afraid to answer. Wanda walked forward, closing the distance between them. “Tell me - did that kiss mean anything to you.”

“Wanda - I - I’m sorry. I really thought you wanted me to-”

“-What I want is to know if you like me or not. So tell me,” Wanda declared. The beating in her heart could not stop as she waited for Y/n’s answer. “I thought you would do just a kiss on my cheek or would have said that you kissed me out loud. But you kissed me and I can’t go back now.”

Tears formed in Wanda’s eyes as Y/n wracked in her brain for words to say. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long now - so please tell me that was real.” The tears fell to her cheeks as her heart beat in anticipation.

“Please say something,” Wanda begged.

“Please don’t cry,” Y/n whispered, her heart breaking at the sight of Wanda crying in front of her. “Why shouldn’t I?” Wanda wiped some tears with the back of her hand, feeling stupid for even confessing.

“‘Cause I never knew you felt the same.” Y/n pulled Wanda close and kissed her deeply, wishing to show that this was the kiss that Wanda deserved, not from some stupid play, but from the fact that Y/n truly loved Wanda.

Wanda steadied herself, placing her hands against Y/n’s chest as she fiercely kissed back. The more Wanda pushed to steady herself, the more Y/n leaned in, begging for more. Their gasps and labored breaths were in sync as the kiss went from passionate to needy.

With each kiss, Y/n poured her heart, wishing that she could stop tasting her tears. Pulling back slightly, Y/n heaved out, “Please stop crying.” Y/n used one hand to wipe away the tears. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Wanda chuckled as she looked at Y/n with such adoration. “I think you owe it to me to redo the scene.”

“Want me to kiss you better?” Wanda pondered for a second, “Something like that plus you’re acting skills could use some practice.”

Y/n gasped, a feigned hurt expression on her face. “I think I was amazing. Might have to audition for lead love interest.”

“Guess we gotta practice our kiss scenes.”

“Way ahead of you Maixmoff.”

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[his-angell]

"breathe for me." (l.mh)

plot; Stray Kids was doing an interview, promoting their new album. A loud noise causes Y/ns anxiety to spike. She does her best to keep calm, but she was showing signs of a panic attack coming on. Minho took notice immediately. He did his best to reassure her till the cameras shut off. The moment they did, he was quick to help calm her down through a panic attack. paring; fem!9th!member!reader x BestFriend!Lee Minho genre; angst, comfort word count; 2.0k warnings; anxiety, unhealthy habits (scratching, biting/picking lips, pinking skin, holding breath), dissociation, descriptive panic attack, 9th member reader, third person request?; no

The interview was going fine. In fact, it was going rather smooth. Too smooth. (y/n) was always nervous during interviews, but this one seemed to tweak her in the wrong way. She had been picking at her fingers, one of the first tells that she was nervous. She didn't really like this interviewer. They were getting oddly personal. She was sure they didn't mean to, but something about them just threw her off.

Minho took a deep breath. He gently nudged her ankle with his foot, trying to get her to stop picking. She kinda just gave a closed lipped smile to him and looked back forward. She hadn't gotten the memo.. She continued to pick at her fingertips.

"So, (y/n)! How did you like this new concept? You seemed to really enjoy the outfits this comeback." The man read from his card before placing it his lap. (y/n) gave a small smile, nodding. "I loved this new concept! I think it brought a-" She was cut off as a loud crash interrupted her. She was quick to cover her ears.

Small pants shook her body as she looked down. One of the studio lights had fallen over. The other members were startled, but (y/n) was thrown off completely. Minho was quick to gently place a hand on her knee, trying to comfort her the best he could. He looked up to the staff, about to ask for a break, but they were told to keep going with the interview. They had fixed the light, and readjusted the cameras so they could continue.

(y/n) let out a shaky breath as she looked back up. Luckily, her question was sort of glanced over now. The focus was moved to Felix, who beamed as he spoke about the fun filming process. (y/n) was fidgeting worse than she had been before. She was scratching at the back of her hand. She was chewing at her lip. Her eyes flickered back and forth between her members and the staff. She just wanted to be done already. She was about to snap.

Minho could tell. He knew that she had issues with interviews in the first place, but the loud noise did not help. He could see it. In the way she rocked back and forth, or the way she scratched and bit at her skin. He was trying to get her to stop the best he could without drawing attention to her.

It felt like ages before the interview finally ended. (y/n) had never gotten up faster. She didn't even allow staff to take off her mic. She rushed away from the others and into a secluded part of the studio. She couldn't breathe. She was hot. Her vision was growing fuzzy. She crouched down, hugging her head to her knees as she tried to calm down. "Not now.. Not here.." She trembled quietly to herself.

Minho tried to rush after her but was stopped by staff. "I have to help her," He tried, but he was waved off. "She just needs air. I need your equipment." The staff said, moving behind him to start unhooking the microphone from his belt. Minho shrugged him off. "You can get it in a second! There's others you can tend to!" He said harshly, rushing over to where he saw (y/n) rush off too.

Minho crouched down to her, gently pulling her hands away from her head. He hated the way she would always tug at her beautiful hair.. He held her wrists in one hand and gently grabbed her chin with the other. "(y/n), I need you to look at me." He said. He already knew what was happening. The first few times this happened, he was clueless on what to do. But after a few times, he learned what she needed and what she didn't. He knew how to take care of her, and he would in every way he could.

(y/n) slowly looked up. her eyes were fuzzy, her head was heavy. her lips were numb from hyperventilating. "Min-Min- I ca-can't brea-breathe!" She sobbed. She tugged her hands away from his grip and gripped onto her chest, as if trying to pull away the burning that consumed her lungs. "It hurts!" She cried. She was tugging at her top, the long sleeve no help to her right now.

Minho took a deep breath, glancing back to where the other members were. He noticed a few of them looking over with concerning glances. He made a motion for drinking, hoping they would get the hint and bring him water. He turned back to (y/n), gently grabbing her hands again. "I need you to breathe with me, okay?" He tried. The woman shook her head. "I can't! It-It's- I'm too hot-!" She sobbed.

Minho shook his head. He hated being stern with her, but he knew that that's what she needed right now. "(y/n), yes you can. In, hold it, out. In, hold it, out." He said. "Do it with me, okay?" He nodded, slowly starting to do the breathing with her. (y/n) stared at him through her teary eyes. She again tried tugging her hands away, but this time, Minho knew better and held them slightly tighter. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. Jisung rushed over with two bottles of water. Minho thanked him quietly, motioning for him to set them down.

Jisung did as he was instructed. "Can I help at all?" He mumbled quietly. (y/n) hung her head low, holding her breath. She trusted the others, sure, but not enough to be this close to her while shes like this. She trusted Minho with this stuff only. She held her breath in attempts to try and act like she was calm. Minho was quick to shake his head. "No, sorry, Ji." He mumbled. Jisung waved a gentle hand before he walked away quickly. (y/n) gasped for air, sobbing out.

She yanked her hands away and started scratching at her thighs. "Minho- I-I can't do-do this-" She shook her head, refusing to make eye contact with him. Minho took a deep breath. He figure that this was one of her times where she didn't wanna be touched. He nodded a little. "Yes, you can, jagi." He whispered. "I need you to stop scratching." He said sternly. "Sit on your hands, remember?" He said, slipping his own hands bellow his thighs and holding them down.

(y/n) looked at him nervously. She stared at his hands bellow his thighs. She clenched her jaw. She slowly moved to sit on top of her hands. She sobbed out, the uncomfortable feeling of needing to do something with her hands unbearable. "You're doing so good, jagi. Now keep breathing for me." Minho said, starting her with a few breaths. While she breathed, he moved to open one of the water bottles. He held it forward, helping her drink. She hummed once she was done, and he pulled the water away.

(y/n)'s body still trembled. Tears were dried to her cheeks, her makeup smeared and ruined. Her body was still hot and tingly. Now was just the uncomfortable stage.. Cooling down after working herself up. She looked at Minho with timid eyes. "It hurts," She whimpered. Minho nodded softly. "I know, I know." He hushed. He made no move to touch her yet, in case she wasn't ready.

After a few minutes she was. She slowly uncurled from herself and hid herself in Minhos chest. Minho wrapped his arms around her and gently rubbed her back. "You did so good, jagiya." He praised quietly. (y/n) closed her eyes, shaking her head softly. "I was so.. So dramatic." She hiccupped. She had those small hiccups you get after working yourself up so much. She held her hands tightly together, trying to keep from ringing her fingers together. She let out a shaky breath.

Minho hummed and shook his head. "You weren't dramatic at all, (y/n)." He said. "You know better than to say stuff like that after you have a moment like that." He added. He was trying to get her to be better about not criticizing herself after having a panic attack or anything of the sorts. He gently moved to look at her. "Can we talk about what set you off?" He asked. "Can we get home first?" The woman asked quietly. Minho nodded. "Of course. Lets get your equipment off and lets get you home." He said, kissing her head softly.

So thats what they did. He helped her over to the staff, helping keep her stable, since her legs were still jelly. He helped get her makeup off, having stolen a few makeup wipes from the stylists. He gathered his stuff as well as hers, carrying it out to the cars that would be taking them home. (y/n) ended up falling asleep against the window. Minho let her sleep, knowing how exhausted she got.

Once they got to the dorms, he woke her gently, helping her out of the car and walking with her up to the dorms, which luckily they shared. She was so tired. She trudged to bed after kicking off her shoes. She had changed into some comfortable clothes, sitting slumped in her bed. She was always so tired and done after a panic attack. It took so much out of her, all she wanted to do was sink into her bed and never wake up.

Minho had told her to give him a second while he made her tea and changed his clothes. He at least got his clothes changed.. By time he went in to check on her to see what tea she wanted, she was falling asleep sitting up. He sighed. He was glad he didn't turn the kettle on.. He went around, turning off the lights before heading to her room. "Jagiya, hey," He gently rubbed her shoulder.

(y/n) jumped a little bit, whining as she looked up at Minho. She frowned and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry.. I was trying not to fall asleep.." She grumbled. She yawned softly, covering her mouth. "You're okay, (y/n). I know you're tired." Minho said. "Before you sleep though.. I do wanna talk about what set you off today." He took a deep breath, sitting next to her. The woman whined and covered her face with the paws of her hoodie sleeves. "I don't want to! I'm tired, and it was stupid!" She whined into her hands.

Minho pried her hands away from her face and held them gently. "You know you'll feel better if you talk about it." He said with a small shrug. She squinted at him, knowing that he was right. She sighed. "I've just been off all month.. There were too many people in that studio. it was cramped." She shrugged. "Then the freaking light, it pushed me over the edge. I really thought I was gonna be able to go a day without freaking otu, Min." She frowned, looking down. Minho hummed. "But that doesn't mean theres not other days you can't beat, jagiya." He said, giving her a small smile.

"This is just one bad day. Tomorrow will be better." He gently tucked her messy hair behind her ear. "Its okay to have a bad day." He said softly. (y/n) slowly nodded. She let out a shaky breath. "Thanks, Min." She said quietly. Another yawn slipped past her lips. "Will you sleep with me tonight?" She asked sheepishly. Minho chuckled softly. "You mean like I have been for the past week?" He teased. (y/n) rolled her eyes jokingly, a small smile cracking her lips. "Yes, like you have for the past week." She giggled softly.

Minho hummed and nodded softly. "Yeah, sure, jagi," He chuckled. He laid down, gently getting under her blankets and opening them for her. (y/n) cuddled under the sheets, cuddling into Minhos chest. "Thank you, Min." She whispered. "Mm, no need to thank me." Minho said as he reached over to turn her lamp off. "I love you.." She mumbled sleepily. Minho chuckled softly and kissed her head. "I love you too, jagi." He yawned as he wrapped his arms around her, soon falling asleep after her.

all writing rights are reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without my permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[aventurineswife]

I love to think that Aventurine would tie a strand of his hair (i mean its like gold already) around his beloved's ring finger as a silent engagement ring...Literally... Imagine coming to him crying that it ripped and him laughing telling that there are way more from where it came from as he detaches another strand and double ties this time just as a reassuring :') [feel free to use the idea if it inspires you im just so obsessed nowadays]

Ties that Bind Us

Summary: After a delicate strand of Aventurine's hair, which he had tied around your finger as a silent engagement ring, breaks, you approach him feeling emotional.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Light Angst, Comfort, Established Relationship, Suggestive(nothing explicit), Intimate Moments, Playful Teasing, Emotional Reassurance, Soft Romantic Gestures, Vulnerability.

Warnings: Mild suggestive content, Emotional vulnerability, Brief crying, he calls you “Love” (because you are the love of his life 🫶).

A/N: THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA, INSTEAD OF GETTING AN ARTIFICIAL THING, YOU GIVE YOUR BELOVED SOMETHING GENIUNE AND OF YOUR OWN 😭 BUT MAN HE'S GONNA GO BALD IF HE KEEPS OFFERING HIS HAIR!!

(Keep those requests coming, I love writing about them! Perhaps send something slight spicy(don't ask me for full smut😭) or gorey too if you dare that is ;))

In the dim glow of your shared home, a soft breeze rustled through the open window as you watched Aventurine, or Kakavasha as you privately called him, sit at his desk, deeply engrossed in his work. His sandy golden-blond hair fell in perfect waves, shimmering under the gentle light. You smiled, fondly remembering how, just days ago, he had tied a single strand of that very hair around your ring finger.

A silent promise. A commitment so personal, it felt more intimate than any grand proposal.

But now, that golden thread had snapped, the ends frayed where the delicate piece had worn out over time. You felt a tug at your heart. It wasn’t just a strand of hair, it was the bond you two shared — fragile, tender, and impossibly beautiful.

Approaching him quietly, you stood at his side, fingers fiddling nervously with the broken piece in your hand. “Kakavasha…” you whispered softly, breaking his focus. His magenta and cyan eyes flicked up from his work, softening when he saw you.

“What’s troubling you, love?” His voice was rich with warmth and affection, though laced with his usual playful charm.

You showed him the broken strand, lips quivering slightly as you murmured, “It… it snapped. I’m sorry.” The weight of your emotions caught you off guard, and you blinked back tears, feeling silly for crying over something so small.

But Aventurine’s expression didn’t change. In fact, a gentle chuckle escaped his lips. His signature smile spread across his face as he reached out to cup your cheek, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “Oh, my dear…” he murmured, his tone both amused and deeply affectionate. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

Before you could protest, he reached for a new strand of his hair and, without hesitation, gently wound it around your ring finger again, this time doubling the loop to ensure it would hold longer. He kissed your hand once he finished, a light peck full of promise. “See? All fixed. Stronger now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly through your lingering emotions, touched by his gesture and the way he made light of what had seemed like a disaster to you. “Thank you.” you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked into his eyes.

He tilted his head, studying you in that way only he could—reading every nuance of your expression. "Crying over a single strand, hmm?" he teased, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. "It’s like you're trying to tug at my heartstrings."

Your blush deepened as his thumb stroked along your jawline. "What happens when it breaks again?" you asked, though the question came out in a more breathless tone than you’d intended.

Aventurine’s smile widened, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more his personal self, Kakavasha. “I’ll keep tying new ones,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand found its way to your waist, pulling you close. “Over and over again. Until there’s no more hair left to give. And even then…” His lips found your temple. “I’ll find something else to bind us together.”

You shivered, not just from the cool breeze that swept through the room but from the way his words wrapped around your heart, anchoring you to him in a way that felt unbreakable.

As you rested your head against his chest, your heart pounded in sync with his, your body relaxing into his embrace. The warmth between you grew, soft and inviting. His fingers played with your hair now, lazily twirling a few strands, but there was something unspoken in the air.

"Kakavasha…" you whispered, your voice trembling with something more than just gratitude.

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through your body. "Cracking already, are we?" His fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes shimmered with mischief, but there was something deeper—something more vulnerable, peeking through the cracks of his usual playful facade.

Aventurine cracked, and Kakavasha peeked out.

The depth in his gaze was unmistakable now, and your breath caught in your throat. You could feel the shift between you two—the teasing banter giving way to something far more intimate. His lips hovered near yours, barely a whisper away, his warm breath mingling with yours.

“And if you break again…” His voice was a low, sultry murmur, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your spine. “I’ll be right here, fixing it every time, love.”

His lips brushed yours, gentle at first, as if savoring the moment. But soon, that gentleness gave way to something more passionate, a deeper need igniting between you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer still, until there was no space left between you.

And in that moment, as his kiss deepened, you knew — no matter how many strands might snap, or how many times you might fall apart, Aventurine, Kakavasha, would always be there, ready to tie them back together.

[moonpascal]

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER FOUR I series masterlist I wc: 3.4k

WARNINGS:

hurt/angst, lonelines, lots of dialogue

AUTHORS NOTE:

thank you to @amiableness my love as always gave me the encouragement i need for these things!

sorry for the long wait! i played hogwarts legacy for the first time and got sucked in. but it did help me with visioning locations and everything. hopefully chapter four was worth the wait (idk feels like a filler lol)

The past few days had been agonizingly unproductive since you realized the extent of your memory loss—entire chunks of the last year and a half simply gone. 

Hermione, stubborn as ever, refused to tell you what you were missing, no matter how much you begged. You knew she was hiding something, and it frustrated you to no end. These were your memories, after all—you had every right to know what had been erased.

The memory that played in the great hall never left you. You couldn’t be sure if it was a fragment of what was lost or just your mind playing tricks on you. Either way, it felt personal, too personal to share with her without knowing for certain if it was real.

But every time you tried to push through and remember more, it was as if a wall slammed down in your mind, sending a jarring, almost painful shock that stopped you cold. Why had this happened to you? Was it an accident, or had someone targeted you? The questions were maddening.

Caught in a loop of pacing and rubbing your temples in frustration, you accidentally kicked your trunk, sending the pile of jumpers and a tie sprawling across the floor. Huffing in annoyance, you bent down to fold them again, ignoring the nagging sense of familiarity they stirred. You were too irritated, too overwhelmed to connect it.

Just as you finished folding the last item, Grace walked in, looking thoroughly exhausted.

“Tough class?” you asked, trying to shift your focus.

She let out a small, tired laugh as she dropped her bag at the foot of her bed. “I wish. Just boys not taking no for an answer,” she sighed.

You shot her a sympathetic look, knowing the feeling all too well. “Wouldn’t happen to be a certain Slytherin whose clothes I keep tripping over, would it?” you teased, holding up the pile.

Grace gave you a sharp, confused look for a moment, and you worried you’d said the wrong thing. But then she forced a smile. “Right! That’s… um, exactly why he’s upset, but he really shouldn’t have left his closet in our dorm,” she said, a nervous edge to her voice.

“Serves him right,” you laughed, before glancing at the clothes again. “But on a serious note, could you possibly return these to him? Or maybe I should just throw them out? They’re taking up space, and I keep knocking them over.”

“Oh,” Grace said, eyes widening like she’d just been reminded of something important. She grabbed the pile from you a bit too quickly. “Of course! I’ll do that right now.”

Before you could protest or tell her she didn’t need to rush, she was already out the door, leaving you standing there, even more confused than before.

In her hurried state, she might have noticed the pesky tie that slipped off again. 

You knew you needed to study and catch up on your missing assignments, but any excuse to procrastinate sounded more appealing. Weighing your options for a brief moment, you grabbed the tie and left the room, hoping to catch up with her.

Exiting your out of the common room and bounding down the stairs, you guessed Grace was heading toward the Slytherin area.

Hopefully, you could catch her but luck wasn’t on your side—she was on a mission, and you didn’t spot her once as you made your way through the castle.

The dungeons weren’t a place you frequented, so you were surprised when you managed to navigate there on your first try. 

Upon arriving, you saw Theo trudging down the steps, the pile of clothes in his arms. You faltered, a strange pang coursing through you for reasons you couldn’t explain.

You considered a quick escape, but Theo called your name before you had a chance to move.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, a touch of surprise in his voice. You didn’t have any classes together today, so it was unexpected to see you. He shifted the clothes under his arm, stepping closer.

“I tried to catch Grace—she dropped this,” you awkwardly gestured to the tie in your hand, “but I guess I found the culprit.”

Theo’s eyes widened at the implication, his heart sinking a bit. “No, these aren’t mine,” he quickly corrected.

You shot him a skeptical look. “So, you and Grace aren’t... involved?” you asked, waving your hand in a vague motion.

Theo scrunched his face in disgust, shaking his head. “No, never. She’s just a friend. She gave these to me to return to one of the guys.”

“Right,” you said, though still not entirely convinced. “Well, make sure he gets his tie back, too.” You draped it over the pile in his arms.

“Right, of course. Thank you for bringing it,” Theo smiled, and any doubt you had about him lying slowly drifted away. You found yourself staring at him, that smile triggering a flash of a memory—the same one from before.

Could it have been real? Theo seemed different now, kinder than you remembered. And how had you never noticed how... easy on the eyes he was?

“Woah, Tesoro, are you okay?” Theo’s voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you realized he had a hand on your shoulder and another gently cupping your cheek. The clothes he’d been holding were forgotten on the ground. 

His face was so close to yours that you instinctively took a step back, but the absence of his touch left you yearning.

“I’m sorry, what?” you said, dazed and confused, not fully processing why he was asking.

“Your nose—it’s bleeding. Let’s get you to sit down,” he said urgently, grabbing the tie and guiding you to a nearby bench. You almost tripped from how sudden it was.

“I’m fine, really, Theodore,” you insisted, brushing it off. “This is probably the fourth one today.” The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted it.

“Fourth?” His tone grew tense, his eyes full of concern. “Are they accompanied by anything else? Headaches? Nausea? Fainting spells?” He inspected you, wiping the blood from your upper lip with the now-ruined tie.

You shrugged, trying to seem unbothered. “Not all the time. I don’t think it’s that serious.”

Theo, however, looked far from reassured. “That’s not normal,” he muttered your name, his worry etched deeply into his face.

“Theo, really, I’m fine. Just a little tired,” you tried to comfort him, but his expression barely softened. Hearing you use his name, though, seemed to snap him back. He pulled back slightly, still visibly rattled. 

“Right, sorry,” he stammered, dropping his hands from you as if your touch burned him. 

“I appreciate the concern, though,” you said, genuinely touched by how much he seemed to care. A stark contrast from the Theo you were used to. “Could we talk later? I have this thing that I can’t seem to figure out.” 

He blinked, seemingly taken aback by your suggestion. In truth, you were a bit surprised by it yourself.

“I have Quidditch practice tonight, but how about tomorrow?” he offered, a bit nervously.

“Perfect,” you grinned. “See you tomorrow then, Theodore.”

He smiled in return, and for a moment, you found yourself wanting to stay and just stare at him. Another part of you still hesitated, wary of his past actions and the memories you couldn’t access. But maybe he had the answers. 

You watched him walk away, a slight spring in his step as he bent to pick up the discarded clothes. He disappeared into the Slytherin common room, the snake door sliding shut. The sight surprisingly comforted you. 

You sat for a moment before finally rising from the bench and starting the walk back to your common room. Your mind was a tangled mix of questions, emotions, and fleeting familiarities that refused to come into focus. It felt like your brain was in overdrive, struggling to fill in blanks without knowing where to start.

The walk back to your dorm felt like a blur, your mind racing with thoughts of how to piece together the gaps in your memory. You needed answers, but the trio seemed determined to keep you out of the loop, offering vague reassurances that only deepened your frustration.

You hated the way they looked at you—like you were fragile, something to be handled with care. It made you feel small, like you weren’t capable of understanding your own situation. The growing silence around what was happening to you was suffocating, and your dorm had become the only place where you didn’t feel on edge.

As you spotted Harry ahead in the corridor, you sped up, determined to find a distraction from the overwhelming pressure of your missing memories. You bumped him lightly with your shoulder, forcing a smile. “Hey, stranger. Haven’t seen you in a while. Want to sneak off to Hogsmeade?”

Harry hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Trouble, I would, really, but I’ve got Quidditch practice tonight.”

Your smile faltered, a flicker of confusion crossing your face. If Slytherin had practice, there was no way Gryffindor did too. The rivalry between the two houses was so intense they could barely play fair in an actual game, let alone share the pitch for practice. You opened your mouth to question him, but Harry quickly cut you off.

“Tomorrow, yeah? We can go then. It’s Saturday, so no sneaking required.” Giving you an awkward smile. 

“Right. Tomorrow.” You nodded, but the unease gnawed at you. First Theo, now Harry. The feeling of being lied to—it stung more than you wanted to admit. Harry never hid things from you before, and Theo—well, you didn’t know him well enough to judge, but it still hurt.

You turned away before Harry could say more, heading in the opposite of his direction- mind you was not towards the pitch. 

When you finally reached your dorm and shut the door behind you, the quiet hit you hard. Alone again, the weight of the past few days crashed down. You dropped onto your bed, letting out a shaky breath. The frustration, confusion, and hurt welled up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to cry. You just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling more isolated than ever.

No one was being honest with you. They were keeping you at arm’s length, treating you like you couldn’t handle the truth. You were left to fend for yourself, with only half the pieces to a puzzle that seemed impossible to solve. You felt pushed aside, only to be dealt with when it was convenient.

It hurt more than you wanted to admit, and the pity party you were throwing yourself was, for the moment, the only thing that felt comforting.

“Fridays, we’ll go to the Astronomy Tower at midnight. It’ll be our thing.”

The words jolted you awake. You blinked, disoriented, scanning the dark room. The moonlight filtered in softly, casting long shadows. You rubbed your eyes and looked around, hoping to find the source of the voice, but the room was silent. Your roommates’ curtains were drawn, and their steady breathing filled the space.

You lay back, trying to make sense of what you’d heard. Maybe it was a dream. Or maybe, another memory trying to break through the haze?

After tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity, it became clear you weren’t going to be able to fall back asleep. Frustrated, you sighed and threw off the covers, slipping on your shoes. Before you knew it, you were out the door, your curiosity leading you through the corridors.

You tiptoed through the common room, careful not to wake anyone. Without Harry’s cloak, you had to rely on the disillusionment spell to stay hidden, but you knew it wasn’t foolproof. 

You navigated the quiet halls, turning corners and climbing staircases with no real sense of direction, yet somehow you felt like you were being pulled somewhere—guided by the echo of those words.

Soon enough, you found yourself at the base of the Astronomy Tower. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu before your feet carried you up the winding staircase. The ascent felt both familiar and foreign, like a path you had walked countless times. It felt like your body was moving on its own, like it knew something your mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

When you finally reached the top, you paused. The silence of the tower wrapped around you, and with a quiet exhale, you removed the disillusionment spell, standing under the vast, starry sky.

The silence was broken by a cough, jolting you from your thoughts. You nearly screamed, spinning around to see Theo sitting against the railing, watching you with curious eyes.

“Merlin! Theodore, you scared me!” you hissed, clutching your chest as your heart pounded.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, clearly finding your reaction amusing. You glared at him, but he just smiled.

“What are you doing up here?” you asked, exasperated as you stepped closer to where he was sitting.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he smirked. The teasing tone was so typical of him, and despite everything, it brought you some comfort.

You rolled your eyes. “Needed some air. And you?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged, taking a drag from the cigarette between his fingers.

“You know those things will kill you, right?” you said, deciding to sit down next to him. You tucked your legs beneath you, resting your back against the railing.

“I’ve heard,” he replied, exhaling the smoke away from you before flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his foot.

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to lecture him about the littering. “Maybe you should take their advice.”

He chuckled softly humming in response, leaning his head back against the railing, eyes closed. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Strangely, you felt more at ease up here with him than you had in days.

With his eyes closed, you stole a glance at his face—the messy hair, the moles dotting his skin, and those lips… You quickly looked away, mentally scolding yourself.

“So,” he said, grabbing your attention. His gaze so focused it made you avert your eyes again, “what really brought you up here?”

“I’m… not sure,” you admitted, fidgeting with the fraying edge of your skirt. “I thought I heard a voice, but it could’ve been a dream. It said something about Astronomy Tower at midnight, and I got curious.”

You noticed Theo’s jaw clench briefly before relaxing again, making you frown slightly. “And you?” you asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

“Just needed some quiet,” he said, hesitating for a moment. “But… what was it you wanted to talk about earlier?”

You had nearly forgotten about that. Now that he asked, the words seemed to stick in your throat. You wanted to say you could wait, let him have his moment of peace, but you needed answers.

“Oh, right,” you sighed, unsure of where to start. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“Take your time,” Theo reassured, his voice soft, and you were grateful to see no judgment in his eyes.

You took a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts. It was hard to know where to even begin.

“Long story short, I lost a chunk of my memories,” you started, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And the other day, I think I had a flashback of one… with you?”

Theo immediately straightened himself, his attention fully locked on you.

“I was—um, what was your memory about?” he asked, his voice a little shaky as if he was trying to stay calm, but you could sense a bit of hope behind his eyes.

“Don’t laugh,” you warned, giving him a serious look, though a faint smile tugged at your lips. “We were in the Forbidden Forest, I think. I was upset about a letter, and you came along, and we… burned it. Does that sound familiar at all?” You searched his face, praying that this wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks on you.

Theo’s expression tightened, his brow furrowing as if he was choosing his next words very carefully. He looked torn, like saying the wrong thing might somehow hurt you more.

“It’s just… we only had our first conversation a few days ago, right?” you added, trying to lighten the mood despite the tension.

He grimaced slightly, rubbing his eyes. “No,” he sighed, his voice heavy. “That was a memory. That night in the Forbidden Forest—that was the first time we really talked. I was out there trying to clear my head, had a lot going on, and then I heard you. You were crying. I didn’t expect to find you out there.”

“Have we… had more conversations since that night?” you asked cautiously, feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion.

Theo hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, we did.” 

“Could you tell me more? Did we hang out after that? Were we friends or just acquaintances? I just feel so lost and confused. You confirming this is the first bit of clarity I’ve had in days,” your voice cracked, the weight of everything you’d been carrying finally slipping through.

Theo’s face shifted, a mixture of pain and hesitation crossing his features. He looked away briefly, his hands gripping the railing beside him. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, careful. “I wish I could tell you everything… I really do.”

He paused, glancing at you before continuing. “But… it’s not that simple.”

Your heart sank at his words, a mix of frustration and sadness settling in your chest. “Why? What’s stopping you?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me. We just don’t know what could happen if we sprung all this information onto you, how the spell or you would react if we try to fill in all the gaps. I mean you’re already having nosebleeds and intense migraines from no one even saying anything. If we push too hard, it could make things worse.”

Theo’s voice softened as he continued. “I just don’t want to hurt you more than you’re already hurting.” His eyes searched yours, hoping you’d understand.

You looked away, the sting of disappointment dulling the relief you’d felt just moments ago. “But I need to know, Theo. I can’t keep living like this, with these blanks and half-truths. Everyone’s treating me like I’m fragile, like I’ll shatter if they say the wrong thing.” Your voice trembled, a mix of anger and helplessness rising to the surface.

Theo shifted closer, his hand hovering just above yours before he hesitated and withdrew. “I get it,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But trust me when I say this—it’s not that we’re all in on some secret without you. We’re just… trying to keep you safe.”

The vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. You could see the struggle there, the pull between wanting to protect you and the desire to be honest. He wasn’t just holding back for the sake of secrecy—it was out of concern for you.

“Safe from what?” you asked, your voice thick with emotion. “I feel more trapped than safe. Like I’m stuck behind this wall, and everyone’s watching me struggle without actually helping.”

Theo exhaled, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but we’re doing the best we can. It’s not that we don’t want to tell you—it’s that we don’t know what’ll happen if we do.”

You bit your lip, feeling that familiar swell of frustration rise again. “So I’m just supposed to wait? Until what? Until my memories come back on their own? What if they never do?”

Theo breath stutters and he hesitates. He’s tried his best not to think of that possibility, that you’ll come back to him and this in time would be a funny memory. “I don’t have all the answers. But you’re not alone in this, okay? Even if it feels like it.” 

You wanted to believe him. Despite everything, you could sense that Theo genuinely cared, even if he couldn’t give you the answers you desperately sought. You looked at him, your chest tightening with the mix of anger and sadness swirling inside you. “I just wish I knew what I was missing.”

Theo nodded slowly, his eyes heavy with the weight of things left unsaid. “When the time comes, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. The cool night air seemed to press down, the weight of your shared secrets hanging in the space between you.

Finally, you nodded, feeling a small sense of comfort in Theo’s promise, even if it couldn’t give you what you needed right now.

If you enjoyed, please please reblog or comment! Your words keep me motivated to write and make me so happy <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[silovsmenot]

Foreign Language | Artūrs Šilovs

SUMMARY: A first meeting with a certain Latvian goalie, a surprise that leaves him thinking of you ... And an unexpected reunion thanks to injury. WARNINGS: So much fluff, poor Latvian language - if you're a Latvian native, please excuse me, I'm still learning. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilov & reader (f!reader implied). NOTES: This was the very first idea that I had, and it's been a brainrot ever since. This could very easily be a multi-part, because the brainrot is real. Okay so little Latvian lesson: 'sveiki' is an informal form of hello and 'piedodiet' is sorry. WORD COUNT: 2147 FIND PART TWO HERE

New job, new city — you were beyond excited to get started with your new life in Vancouver. It was a dream come true, a sports photographer for the Vancouver Sun. You’d be covering everything from soccer to basketball, and your personal favourite, ice hockey. It couldn’t have been better.

It had only been a few weeks and you were still pretty starstruck by the whole situation. The smile had rarely left your lips for everything felt so right. As you drove to the Abbotsford Centre, your music turned to loud as you sang along to your favourite song — life was good. And today promised to be another good day. You were helping to cover a story of the Vancouver prospects in Abbotsford and how they were developing within the AHL affiliate, while your partner would be interviewing players at the rink side and in changing rooms, you’d be snapping the shots of the training session.

It promised to be a lot easier than your usual days, training sessions were a lot more relaxed than game photography. Even with their game against playoff rivals looming, you knew it would be a calmer atmosphere than the alternative.

With the heavy camera bag upon your shoulders, digits scraped back your hair as you walked, tied back as you always did while working. Nodding across to your partner who stood waiting at the large rink doors, he held out a coffee to you, which you gratefully accepted with a quiet ‘thank you’. You two were close, like siblings — natural partners and you always delivered high tier work together.

“The boss wants some focus on the goalies, see what you can do, y/n.” He muttered as you walked, both sipping quietly at the hot liquid. From where you were, you could already hear the shouts of training, the crash of the puck against glass and the slapping of sticks upon the ice. It was a sound you knew and loved.

And as your partner pushed open the door, the bright lights of the rink lit everything up. You both moved quickly with a light tapping of both coffee cups in luck, your partner immediately gravitating to the head coach who lingered beside the boards, while you would weave onto the bench and begin your setup. Lens mounted onto the camera body, fixing your settings to this particular arena until you were happy with your picture. It was simply second nature now.

You stood beside the boards, camera switching from player to player with smooth motions as the camera clicked. Turning to each goalie, your camera would linger with the rhythmic clicking — you didn’t need to know all of the story, but a focus on the goalies was always a popular one. Players being called up to the NHL happened so regularly, it was hardly a story, but goalies? Now that got people ticking.

As the session progressed, you watched your partner question each player who came to the bench for water before they’d even had a chance to breathe. You would simply smile at each person, almost sympathetically, and do your job with the clicking of the camera.

Even as the young goalie skated over, angling toward the bench where you stood with a hand outstretched for a bottle, your lips presented a small smile as you waited for your partner to pounce. But as he was too wrapped up with Tolopilo, this goalie was left in silence … for a moment at least. You knew a little about him, of course. A young guy from Latvia, drafted a few years ago now, with a bit of a rocky start to the season. His eyes met yours as the blue and green mask was raised from his face, lips curled into a smile at the first glance.

You spoke without a second thought. It had been some years now since you ended things with your ex, but you’d spent a few years learning Latvian for them — it had been years since you had any reason to use it. 

“Sveiki…” 

Artūrs blinked. The smile on his lips disappeared as confusion was etched in its place. He’d been in Canada for a while now, with only the occasional passing player conversation to give him that little piece of home. He’d never expected this woman to come out with that.

“Sveiki.” The goalie quietly replied, leaning his weight forward upon the boards beside you. “You’re Latvian?”

You shook your head, a quiet laugh slipping through your lips as the camera lowered, your body turning to almost mirror his as you leaned upon the boards.

“I’m not Latvian, but my ex was. I learned some from when we were together.” 

As you spoke, he watched you closely as the smile returned to his face. A smile that you couldn’t help but find contagious. He nodded slowly, thinking silently to himself before his blocker hand began to shake. The glove removed, his hand wiping upon his jersey before it was offered across to you with a grin.

“I’m Artūrs,” He spoke with a little more confidence, capturing your gaze beneath his dark eyes. They were easy to get lost in as you looked at him. “But this lot mostly call me Arty.” 

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you, Arty.” You hummed as your hand came to meet his, a slight look of amusing disgust at the sweaty hand of the goaltender. Needless to say it was enough to make the young goalie laugh.

Releasing his hand with a playful swat, you too would wipe your hand upon your jumper as he laughed. You couldn’t blame him, and you too found it funny, but a sweaty hand was not  what you wanted.

“Piedodiet.” He spoke through the laughter, head cocking as he watched you. Your eyes narrowed playful in response to his apology.

“I’m not sure that I believe that you’re sorry.” You found yourself teasing in response, the camera growing heavy in your hands as it sat idle. If your partner looked over, it would look as though you were helping him with his job — but far from it. You were enjoying yourself, more than you realised at the time.

He gave no response, just the rising and falling of his brows. A cheeky grin at his lips as the hand returned the blocker, the bottle returned to it’s place on the boards.

“Will I see you around here more?” Arty called out as he took a few strides away from where you stood. He hoped, silently, that you’d say yes. That you’d be back to photograph and chat more. For whatever reason, he wasn’t quite sure yet, he wanted to see more of you.

It was your turn to stay silent, shrugging with shoulders and hands. You had no idea if your job would bring you back to the Abbotsford Centre, but you hoped that it would.

And as the training session came to end, your partner returned to you with a notepad full of notes and a voice recorder full to burst, you gave a lingering glance back to the goalie as he took his first steps from the ice, and met your eyes with a smile.

Months passed and you had often thought of the grinning Latvian goalie of the Abbotsford Canucks. Your job hadn’t taken you back to the little suburb of Vancouver, though you’d occasionally catch the games on TV. A little curiosity peaking as you’d remember the conversation with him — sometimes, you’d catch yourself smiling as you thought about it. You’d watch his games when you could and read the news in which he featured.

You couldn’t say that you missed him, you barely knew him, but you wanted to know him … You wanted to be able to miss him.

March rolled around, the end of the regular season was in sight and you’d taken the lead in photography coverage of the Vancouver Canucks for a while now — you’d become a regular at the Rogers Arena, and knew most of the faces of players, staff and partners. You’d even become friends with a number of the wives and girlfriends. You were a familiar face to all.

And you were one of the first on the scene, with your partner in tow, at the announcement of the press conference. Demko’s injury was the worst kept secret in the city, and you’d all been waiting for them to announce it. To know which lucky goalie was getting the call up from Abbotsford.

Journalists and photographers piled into the large room with whispers and nods of acknowledgement. Everyone waiting for Tocchet to make the announcement, and your heart skipped a little beat when he did … for the grinning goalie, Artūrs Šilovs would be taking up the role of back-up in Demko’s absence. 

You wasted no time in getting down to the rink following the announcement, you knew that all the reporters would be clamouring for a word with the captain and the rookie goalie. As the flood of journalists began through the arena, the players were already leaving the ice with only the two goalies remaining with Clarkie. Many left to find the captain and coaches, while a few photographers, yourself included, would snap what shots they could of the two goaltenders.

Your stomach did a spin to see him again, the grin seemingly stuck with glue upon your lips — it had been months, surely he wouldn’t not remember you, you thought. But as his eyes glanced across to the wall of photographers, his gaze did linger upon you. Beneath his mask, he did grin. He’d spent months hoping to see you in Abbotsford, at his training or his game. It was a bitter disappointment when another photographer had been sent down in your place.

And as the nod was given for both goalies to leave the ice, little else mattered to him than making a beeline to you.

“Sveiki.” Arty immediately said as the helmet was raised, drifting on his skates just in front of you. Your smile spread instantly, quietly returning the hello with a hum. “I need to change, but please don’t run off.”

With a curious look etched upon your features, you silently nodded. It was the end of your working day anyway, you needed to sort through the photos of the day, but you could do that while you waited.

So sat upon a chair in the stands, laptop open and photos running through, you edited and submitted your best to your partner who would return to the office to write his piece. Gaze would snap up at the first sound of movement up the steps, it was strange to see him out of his goalie gear and in normal, casual clothing. A pair of jeans, a jumper, and glasses? There was something unexpected about that, but they suited him well. You liked the glasses' look.

“You didn’t come down to Abbotsford again.” He quietly said, the disappointment clear in his voice and on his face. And you felt the sting — but you also felt the twist in your stomach of excitement … he’d wanted to see you again, he’d thought about you.

“They moved me solely to these guys. I’m barely away from this rink now, Arty.” You sighed, hand closing the laptop which rested in your lap. You’d hold it there, fiddling with the corner as you thought. “I watched some of your games from home. I should’ve come down for one or two … to watch.”

“Do you want to go for a coffee, y/n?” Artūrs interjected, impatiently and abruptly. It was almost like he had to get it out before he could stop himself, and he was noticeably nervous as he waited for an answer.

You took a moment, watching him fiddle with the hem of his jumper as he waited — yet his smile never wavered. It was stuck, just as yours was.

“I’d like that.” You finally spoke, returning the laptop to your bag without breaking eye contact. The weight in his chest lifted immediately, a heavy exhale parting his lips as he nodded. You rose with a struggle, the camera bag always seeming to be heavier in that first moment, and Arty was quick to assist. His hand offered out, collecting the strap from your hand as it was slung onto his back with ease.

You walked from the arena together, both grinning wide with occasional glances at the other. A comfortable silence between you, it was simply a nice feeling to walk at each other’s side.

“Es priecājos jūs atkal redzēt.” He finally spoke, breaking the silence with words you didn’t quite know. Your Latvian limited to basic phrases that you learned to speak to your ex’s family during the holidays. 

“What does that mean?” You whispered, leaning a little closer.

“I’m glad to see you again.”

And your heart skipped a little beat.

[alwaysmoncheri]

summary: you’re starting to feel a little insecure among the other women in the bau, but spencer notices and silences your worries

cw: female!reader, kissing, fluff, cheesy writing, like one sexual innuendo from derek ( what’s new ? ), mutual pinning, insecurities, anxiety, comparisons of looks to others, 925, spencer reid x reader

<3

you sit at your desk in the bustling bau office, surrounded by the brilliant minds and gorgeous faces that make up the team. as you sift through case files and organize data, you can't help but feel a subtle twinge of insecurity. the women in the bau are a formidable force – confident, competent, and effortlessly balancing the demands of the job with their own personal charm.

emily prentiss exudes authority, her presence commanding respect. jj effortlessly juggles motherhood and her role in the unit, displaying a poise you can't help but admire. penelope garcia's vibrant personality seems to light up the room, and you wonder if your more reserved nature fits into this dynamic team.

amidst the collective intelligence and strength, you find yourself questioning your place. your eyes wander to the mirror on your desk, and for a moment, you scrutinize your reflection. the nagging thought that you don't quite measure up to the elegance and confidence of your female colleagues lingers in the back of your mind.

as the day progresses, you try to focus on the tasks at hand, pushing aside the self-doubt that threatens to overshadow your abilities. spencer reid, the brilliant and socially awkward genius, that you love, is engrossed in his work on the other side of your adject desks. you've always admired his intellect, the way his mind operates on a different plane, and you’ve shamelessly loved him ever since you’d first met. 

the team engages in discussions, exchanging ideas and theories. spencer, as usual, offers his insights with a level of eloquence that captivates everyone in the room. yet, in the midst of the professional banter, you can't shake the feeling that you fall short in comparison. you not only feel as though your mind can’t contribute the same thoughts and helpful comments as the rest of the team but you feel a tinge of insecurity toward your appearance. the way you look is far from beauty standards, you try to put on make-up but it never turns out to look like emily, jj, or penelope’s. 

in a rare moment of respite, you find yourself alone near the coffee machine where you pull out your compact and check your reflection in the mirror. the longer you look at yourself, the more flaws you seem to find, and the more you think about the group’s discussions, the more judgment you feel toward yourself. 

spencer notices you from the doorway and he frowns before proceeding any closer. when you finally notice him grabbing himself a fresh cup of coffee, you snap your compact closed as if you’ve been caught. spencer glances at you, his expression kind but perceptive. "everything okay?" he asks, his tone gentle.

you hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. "I don't know, spencer. I can't help but feel a bit out of place sometimes. I mean, look at the other women in the bau. they're all so... confident and put together. I don't know if I fit in."

spencer furrows his brow, considering your words carefully. "you know, I used to feel the same way when I first joined the bau. I was the youngest, and everyone seemed so sure of themselves. but confidence isn't always about how put together someone is. it's about knowing your worth and embracing your differences."

his words resonate with you, and for a moment, the weight on your shoulders seems to lift. "but look at them," you gesture towards your female colleagues and spencer follows your gaze, "they are all so... stunning. I can't help but feel like I don't quite measure up." you admit sheepishly and spencer immediately understands your insecurity. 

spencer's eyes soften, and he offers a small, understanding smile. "beauty is subjective, and everyone has their own unique qualities. it's not just about appearances; it's about the way you carry yourself, your intelligence, your kindness. you have your own charm, and you're more than enough just the way you are." spencer explains, hesitantly touching your shoulder and softly rubbing up and down. his reassurance is like a soothing balm, calming the storm of self-doubt that rages within you. the way he sees beyond the surface, acknowledging your strengths, makes you feel valued in a way you hadn't anticipated.

“thank you, spence.” you whisper, turning to face him with a hint of a smile. 

"you're an incredible person," spencer states, his voice sincere as he nods his head at your thanks. "and I'm grateful to have you as a colleague and a friend."

you can’t help but smile, feeling a warmth in your chest. spencer's acknowledgment goes beyond professional; it speaks of the genuine connection between the two of you. a connection that often brought constant teasing from other members of the bau team. you know you aren’t really just friends, but you enjoy spencer’s statement nonetheless.  

“let’s go loverbirds, you’ve been on break for long enough,” derek calls from just outside the doorway, “plenty of time to do whatever you were doing.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of us. 

spencer’s face turns beat red while you roll your eyes with a smile tugging at your lips. you then lean up to give spencer a quick kiss on his jaw and whisper another quick thank you. you turn on your heel and walk out the door, turning one last time to see spencer’s mouth slightly agape and cheeks even rosier than before. you smile to yourself, now knowing that you have no reason to be insecure, and spencer helped you realize that. 

masterlist . spencer reid masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[xomakara]

Bump and Trim

SUMMARY |  San helps you trim the hair around your intimate parts since you're pregnant.

PAIRINGS |  San x Reader

GENRE |  smut, established relationship, pregnancy, non-idol au

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (both f/m receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

LENGTH |  2,285 words

TAGLIST | --

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

“San! Honey!” You called out from the bathroom, waiting for you husband of many years to answer your beckon. It took only a few moments and then you were face to face with his handsome self leaning against the doorway, a smile plastered to his lips.

“Hmm?” he hummed at you and you tried really, really hard to not focus on how that particular little noise was going straight to the region you wanted to shave. Damn his voice for having so much control of you.

Instead, you held out the razor towards him and smiled. His brow raised in confusion and you wiggled the object closer. “San, can you help me shave? I can't reach down there and my belly is in the way and..."

"Love, why do you need to shave? Won't it affect the baby? Not to mention how bad it'd be if you got a cut." San interjected before you could finish.

"But it's a freaking forest down there." You pouted, letting your hand drop to your belly that housed your unborn child, his hand covering your own. You saw a spark of a firelight behind San's eyes as his attention fell to your belly and his hand rubbed circles gently across its surface.

"How about we trim it to keep it nice and tidy?" He suggested and then kissed the bridge of your nose to add emphasis to his desire to not harm you or your womb mate. "And then after you give birth, I will personally take care of the grooming of the forest that will reside between those heavenly legs of yours. Do you agree?"

You pretended to mull it over for a few moments, humming in feigned thought before giving a small giggle as San's hand cupped your ass and pressed himself firmly against your swollen midsection. A quiet moan left your throat and his fingers dug into the flesh. He needed you; his hormones were in just as much disarray as yours.

"Lovely idea, my dearest husband." You managed to rasp.

"Indeed it was..." his voice dropped several octaves.

He picked you up, easily and carefully, and then sat you gently on the bed, laying out towels and propping a pillow to lean against your back, keeping your pelvic region open to him. Carefully he separated your legs, just a few inches, before wetting the pubic area a little with a wet cloth he retrieved from the bathroom. He got the clippers ready and checked everything and you couldn't help but grin from ear to ear, eager to feel his tender hands between your thighs.

"What is so funny, wife?" He questioned, turning the clippers on before gently taking some hairs between the blades. He clipped them neatly, making sure none was too long or too short and didn't make a mess. Your skin tingle from the new sensation.

"Just your adorable concentration." You giggled softly, propping the pillow and yourself a little more and caressing San's smooth face while he worked on a very ticklish area. It wasn't an unusual task for him to do this, and you thanked your lucky stars every day that San was comfortable with things most males were shy with. He was gentle, loving and quite talented.

"I'm concentrating on an area that I have very deep appreciation for." He hummed happily as he snipped another tiny clump of hair.

"Oh, so you care more about my forest than about your baby and wife, do you?" You teased, playfully poking his cheekbone. He smacked your finger with his own finger, his lips quirked in a smile.

"If I don't tend to the forest, how else will you allow me access to the tree situated in the middle?" He answered.

The statement made you break into a loud burst of giggles. "You're so weird sometimes!" You snorted through a laugh, resting the back of your head on the pillow behind you. He looked up from his careful work, grinning from ear to ear, baring teeth, tongue stuck out slightly.

"Only for you, babe." He teased back.

"If only my husband would always stay between my thighs...all my stress would go away and the world would be right again." You stated boldly, feeling empowered in that moment to admit how much you craved your husband's attention and adoration. It felt great.

"Aren't you needy all the time?" He added.

"You're the one who made me like this, San."

"Guess I better hurry this trimming up so I can fulfill my wife's request..." He growled.

Once your lower pelvic region was nicely trimmed, he was going to pull back and stop there. However, that didn't exactly go according to plan.

You let out a small whine from behind clenched teeth and pouted at him, making a shoving motion between your legs with your hand. His gaze fell there and he knew immediately you didn't want any of this stopping now that you were feeling this aroused. "I'm waiting, husband."

It's been four months since you and San stopped having sex because of the pregnancy and it was really, really frustrating. Of course the doctor said it would be safe to have sex during pregnancy, but this was San and he was a worrywart for both yourself and your little one.

"Are you certain, my love?" His expression was that of longing. Longing to touch you. Longing to have you beneath his skilled fingers. Longing to claim what belonged to him and no other.

"The doctor said it was fine, San." You replied. He waited still. "I just...can you please, please get to business here? I'm fucking horny as fuck right now and I just need you like eat me out or something."

And that he did, slowly and deliciously dragging his tongue across every bit of skin from inner thighs to pubic bone. He enjoyed the tangy taste of your sweetness on his tongue and you enjoyed the way he groaned his enjoyment of it, the vibrations from his mouth on your sex, hitting you just the right way, sending hot sparks of arousal up and down your spine, leaving you breathless and clutching at the blankets. Your body trembled from all the stimulation he was sending through your being, tongue dipping into every fold and tasting every part.

San held you gently, his hands cradling your swollen belly while he made slow love to you with his mouth. His tongue stroked and swirled across your clit and then sucked ever so slightly upon the bundle of nerves, smiling at each gasp, groan, and moan that escaped your parted lips. You clasped your hand on his hand that rested on your belly and gripped your other hand into the bed sheets.

"I can't believe that our daughter is growing in your beautiful body right now..." He murmured after another tender lick that ended at your sweet entrance. "She'll be the cutest little lady that anyone could ever meet, next to you, my love."

"Keep- keep talking, honey..." Your body spasmed, waves of heat pulsing through you, getting closer and closer to completion. He rubbed your belly with one hand and then made sure to find one of your own hands and laced his fingers with yours.

"So strong and gorgeous, aren't you, my queen." He breathed against the apex between your thighs, feeling them quake under his hold. You moaned a bit louder, losing your sense of volume, knowing you had a very sexy and attractive husband between your legs who was loving your pussy and teasing you to the point of almost being able to orgasm.

Almost.

"Please..." You begged him, pleading with him to help bring you that last bit further.

"I love you, y/n" he smiled from the spot where his nose was nestled among your trimmed, yet moist curls and licked a little longer, pressing his thumb against your nub, stroking at the sensitive flesh. His long fingers prodded against your cunt and slid inside without warning, giving you the opportunity you needed. He curled his fingers just right and pulled another loud groan from you. Your back arched off the bed, but he leaned down quickly, laying his head onto your belly and rubbing it a little firmer, so you were laid flush to the bed.

"O-oh!" Was all you could say, every muscle tensing, a feeling of euphoria washing over you in waves of hot pleasure, shuddering around San's fingers. As if on cue, he removed his digits slowly from inside of you, placing soft kisses and kitten licks on your clitoris, down along your slit. It didn't matter much, though because your body went slack against the bed, breath coming in gasps and your entire being trembling, dripping wet and covered in sweat.

"Done eating my forest?" You groaned out, trying to catch your breath, cheeks flushed from the wonderful moment he just gave you. He chuckled and kissed his way up your body, mindful of your pregnant belly, and claimed your lips sweetly.

"Most certainly. I can see my way through." San joked and nuzzled his nose along your temple lovingly. "You okay, my love? Was that good?"

"So, so amazing. Thank you so much, San." You blushed from your head down to your neck, hiding your face in your husband's shoulder, biting down slightly, wanting to return the favor, even if it couldn't be nearly as spectacular as his skilled tongue could do.

He flinched at the feeling and shivered, laughing at your bashfulness. "And how would you repay my deed?"

"How about my hands?" You suggested, a smile spreading across your face. He helped you move into a comfortable position and leaned down to kiss the bridge of your nose tenderly.

"As long as they're attached to an amazing wife, anything will do." San moaned softly into another kiss to your mouth.

His pelvic muscles quivered when you took hold of his heavy length and stroked carefully along the length and felt the hot length pulse in your fingers, a whisper of a name falling past his lips, mingling with his soft moan, filling the quiet bedroom. San bucked lightly into your hand, wanting more friction and you were quick to oblige by running your palm up and down a little faster, the girth twitching when you squeezed just enough around him.

His hands took hold of your free one, intertwining fingers, placing sweet kisses on your knuckles and panting loudly, groans of praise and excitement muffled with his sweet touches. The scent of his excitement, precum leaking profusely from his swollen cockhead, causing your hand to slide easily across his shaft.

"I love you so much..." San murmured in your ear. You hummed your approval of the lovely words, brushing your thumb over his tip, swiping more beads of precum from the tip. With a loud exhale, his brow furrowed, chest heaving with the breaths.

"Are you close?" You asked him, licking your lips and squeezing again, thumb brushing and feeling the blood coursing underneath the flesh. It throbbed under your hand and it made you want to taste him, even if the sensation wasn't quite the same.

"Gods...don't stop, babe...right there..." his moans grew higher pitched as he arched off the bed, movements growing erratic, jerking himself with your hand around his aching cock. You increased the pace a bit more and kissed his flushed cheek when he craned his neck to rest his head on the pillow behind him.

San couldn't quite form sentences anymore. Just pleas for more, to keep going. To milk his thick shaft for all its worth. And that was exactly what you did. In seconds his warm, sticky cum painted across his chest and spilled a little on your belly, pooling above your naval. The creamy white substance oozed from him, overflowing as you continued your slow, languid strokes, relishing the feeling of his climax in your fingers, his shaky, erotic expressions.

The moment his breathing slowed and his body relaxed against the bed once more, he let out a loud sigh. A satisfied sound that left no doubt he enjoyed every minute of that. Your lips found his own in a sweet and tender kiss.

"That was glorious." San grinned lazily from beside you.

You giggled a bit at the euphoria covering his face. He sat up, cleaned the two of you up a bit before pulling you against his frame, wrapping his arms around you lovingly. His attention turned towards the baby bump between you. He was silent for a few minutes, admiring the view he had of his future child in there and the feel of you cuddled in his arms, a glow about you he adored.

The baby kicked and moved in you, causing you to squeak. The look on San's face went from surprise to full fledged affection for both you and your child. His hand immediately came to your stomach and felt the baby shift about, the sensation a little uncomfortable to you, but wonderful all the same.

"Already so protective." You hummed and laid your palm across San's, helping him map your stomach.

"How can I not be? You and our baby are everything I've always wanted." San admitted, watching the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you laughed and how they closed when you were pleased with something he said or done.

"God, I hope the baby has your eyes, San." You whispered into the evening air, San kissing the crown of your head and continuing to caress your stomach as you two snuggled together in bed.

You would just have to wait and find out a few months later.