#I think it's more likely she was just waiting for him to be the perfect lure for her Envy demon

[teyrnacousland]

So, Zara was just waiting for Illario to be made First Talon so she could betray him and get an Envy demon out of the deal, right?

We know Zara specifically wanted an Envy demon. And Envy demons are said to be attracted to powerful, successful people. Who's more powerful than the First Talon? And who could be a more perfect host to draw in/create an Envy demon than bitter, jealous, attention seeking Illario?

[cassianaries]

Can you do reader x luigi where they are best friends and are lying on her bed and theres soooooo much tension and they finally fuck and its sooooo cute cus hes so gentle and sweet but also its super hot because shes never been eaten out before and its awesome!!! Plspslslslss full length!!!

The Space Between - Luigi Mangione x reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI - smut, swearing.

Author's note: Thank you for the request. I hope you all like this! Let me know what you think or if you have any more requests.

Word count: 2,895

It was Friday night and there was no other place Y/N wanted to be than in her apartment. While others got ready for a night on the town dressed in their best, Y/N was currently in her pajamas. Her apartment was clean, she ordered takeout, she had several candles illuminating her apartment, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere she was after. She had her favorite movie queued up, this was her definition of a perfect Friday night. Her friend group invited her out to a night of copious drinking and karaoke, but she politely declined. Her night was planned eat her dinner and dessert while watching several of her favorite movies, do her nightly routine, and be in bed with a good book by 9:30 and fall asleep.

She always planned her Friday nights, its what gets her through her week. When she's bored at work she'll create a list of movies/tv shows she wants to watch, make note of that restaurant she saw on Postmates that looked good that she decides she will order from, Y/N has always been a planner, and she doesn't mess around about her Friday nights in. Her Friday night went on without a hitch, the movies she chose were always good, of course they were they were her comfort movies. The dinner she had that night from a local Thai place was delicious that she finished it 30 minutes into her first movie, and the chocolate chip cookies she made were baked to perfection.

It was now 9:30, on the dot she finished her skincare routine and was not in bed with her book in her hand and the book light being the only source of light illuminating her room. She sighed, content with how her enjoyable her Friday night was. Just as she was sinking into bed, there was a knock at her apartment door.

She shuffled out of bed, dragging her feet annoyed and seemingly on the verge of throwing a tantrum. She looked through the peep hole to see Luigi, she opened the door with a huff, "What do you want?"

He let out a breath smiling, his upbeat energy annoyed Y/N, she just wanted to read her book in bed, in her cozy warm bed. But no. She was standing at the threshold of her apartment door, there was a cold draft, she was tired, annoyed and Luigi was smiling. He was dressed in white basketball shorts and a plain blue shirt. He had on his black nike sneakers and he still smiling holding a book in his hand. She wanted to smack him with the book that was in his hand- wait, why is he carrying a book? No, she thought. He better not- I swear to God. If he's here for the reason that I think he is here I'm going to--

"I thought I'd stop by and join your coveted Friday night reading sessions," he replied brightly walking past her into her apartment and making his way into her room. It took her a second to realize he'd just charmed his way into her apartment, she quickly slammed the door and locked in, making her way to her bedroom. When she arrived at her bedroom door, he had already removed his shoes, turned on her bed side lamp, and was laying on the other side of her bed.

"Do you have an extra book light?" he asked casually. She was frozen at her door, still in a state of disbelief. He ignored the look of shock on her face, when Y/N finally picked her jaw off the ground she sputtered, "W-what you want a- what are you doing here Lu?" she finally asked.

"I'm here to read with you. You never want to go out with us on Friday nights and you seem to love what you do on Friday telling us about it the next day so I thought I'd join. It seems like a perfect evening. What movies did you watch?" he asked casually.

Luigi and Y/N's other friends have a group chat that is very chaotic, no one ever really reads what she writes unless it's something important or a direct question. So what she's done ever since Y/N started her 'Friday night tradition' is recap what she did for her coveted Friday night. Y/N provides a daily recap of the night; what movies/shows she watched, what she ate, and what book she read in bed. No one ever interacted with her Friday night recaps, so she just assumed they either skimmed it or didn't read it. But Luigi being himself, of course he read it and invited himself to the silent reading portion of the night.

Y/N sighed, "I didn't think you actually read my recaps."

He looked up at her and said very seriously, "Of course I did, you're my friend I like hearing about what you're up to."

Before Y/N could kick him out he interjected, "Look, if I really am going to ruin your Friday night, I can leave. I just thought it could be fun to read together and maybe even discuss and show each other what we're reading."

How could she tell him to leave? He looked up at her with his book in his lap, ankles crossed, and with a look of genuine excitement. Y/N kneeled down to open the bed side table drawer, and handed him a book light. He had the biggest smile on his face as she made her way to her side of the bed. They both sat in silence reading your books. Y/N opted for a romance novel and Luigi was reading a historical fiction book. The room was silent except for the occasional turning of a page and the sounds of the city outside her bedroom window.

An hour into the reading session, Y/N had slumped further into her bed. She could feel a pair of eyes on her and she turned to face Luigi. He was staring at her, the goofy smile from earlier no longer on his face. His gaze was softer than she'd ever seen, it was almost careful.

"Why are looking at me like that?" she asked placing her book off to the side. She noticed his book wasn't even open, it laid flatly on his chest.

"When you read, you mouth the words," he replied absentmindedly.

"Okay," she laughed. "And what about it?"

"It's adorable," he replied.

She cleared her throat unsure of how to respond, but decides on a quick 'thanks' under her breath. She tries to go back to reading, but the interaction created a tension in the air that changed the entire mood of the night. She was unsure of how to act, how to respond, what to even-think. Her other friends in their friend group would mention how Luigi was different with her and she would just say he's like that with everyone, it's Luigi he's kind. But her friends would point out the lingering stares or how he would always have her attention, how when he made a joke he always looked to her for approval. It was subtle, but it was there. And this moment solidified it for her.

She never wanted to confront it because she liked being friends with Luigi, she never really had a lot of friends before meeting this core group she had now. He was the friend she prayed for. Attentive, caring, thoughtful. Not that her other friends were, but with Luigi it was just different. If she said something and no one heard it, he would say it loudly so that they would hear. If she wanted to go somewhere no one else wanted to go, he would go with her so she wouldn't go alone. If she said something and no one acknowledged it, he would. She never wanted to mess that up or lose that by pursuing something more than a friendship with him.

"Luigi-" she started.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

"What if-" she began.

"It won't change anything, I promise. You'll have me, no matter what happens, you'll always have me. I'm always going to be here." He replied softly.

She nodded.

"Y/N, I need you to say it."

"You can kiss me Lu," she whispered.

He was shaking, she could sense his nervousness as he maneuvered to face her. She had moved to be nearer to him He was now in front of her his hands cradling her face, his thumb rubbing her cheek. She like this, she leaned into his touch. He leaned forward and she met him halfway, their lips moved slowly. Luigi sighed into the kiss as if he finally let out a breath he'd been hold for far too long. Y/N pulled away smiling, and quickly pecked his lips causing Luigi to smile.

Y/N leaned forward and initiated another kiss and deepening it, she wants this. She wants Luigi. She made it very clear when she straddled him, he let out a groan pulling away. "Are you sure?" he asked. She was now grinding against him hoping that would answer his question, he placed his hands on her hips to stop her movements, she groaned in protest hiding her face in his neck. He pulled her back so that he could look at her, moving the hair out of her face so that he could see her.

"Baby- I need to hear you say it. I need to hear you say you want this," he said panting.

She nodded her head quickly, "Yes Lu, please."

"How do you like it?" he asked. "What's off the table?"

"Nothing, do what ever you want to me Lu, I don't care just touch me please" she said desperately.

"Okay, tell me if it's too much." he replied kissing her lips before flipping her over she yelped in shock and he laughed kissing her lips hungrily. He moved to her neck and when he surfaced again and she could see his face, something changed. Luigi looked more serious, he wasn't smiling anymore.

"Open," was all he said.

Y/N obliged. She opened her mouth sticking out her tongue. Luigi spit in her mouth, "Swallow it" was all he said. She did as she was told and opened her mouth to show him she had obeyed.

"Good girl," he replied. "Good fucking girl."

He began removing her pajamas and she laid naked in front of him, there was something about having him completely clothed and her fully naked in front of him on display. His eyes explored every inch of her body, "You're so beautiful" he replied breathlessly. Y/N began to sit up to remove his clothing, but he pushed her back onto the bed causing her to bounce a bit. "Did I say you could touch me?" he asked his voice more stern and dominant. "No," she replied softly.

He slapped her cheek lightly and gripped her chin, his thumb was near the corner of her mouth, she took hold of his wrist and put his thumb in her mouth sucking lightly. She removed his thumb and looked up at him, "I'm sorry daddy," she replied. The domineering look in his face faltered as his jaw slacked, he ripped his thumb away from her mouth and began tearing off his clothing as if they were on fire.

Their mouth and hands took turns exploring each other's body leaving her moaning his name and calling him 'daddy' and begging him to fuck her already which she learned he loved being called that. She was gripping his biceps when she felt him teasing the entrance of her pussy with his fingers, she moaned trying to move her hips to speed up the movement. His middle finger was playing with her entrance and the wet noises from her pussy filled the room.

"Whose this pussy belong to?" he asked continuing his cruel teasing.

"Yours," she replied breathlessly her eyes closed.

"Open your eyes and tell me who this pussy belongs to," he replied slowly and sternly.

She opened her eyes and choked out, "Yours-" thats when he slammed his fingers into her and kept them there. She let out a yelp and cry of relief. He began moving his fingers in and out her pussy, the sounds of her wetness and her moans filling the room. He didn't stop, he place his left hand on the space above her pussy and below her navel to create pressure and it made the sensation even more enjoyable. Where the hell did he learn that? she thought to herself. She was moaning and screaming his name has he continued to please he with his fingers, she tried to stimulate her clit but he pushed her hand away and said something about it being his job to please her, she wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. The next thing she knew she squirted and she screamed from relief.

She heard Luigi groan and she opened her eyes as her chest moved up and down rapidly that she had soaked her bed and his chest. His perfectly sculpted chest was drench in her wetness. She closed her legs and her hand covered her mouth in shock, Luigi looked at her and then looked down at his chest. They didn't say anything for what felt like hours to her.

"Open your legs baby, I need to fuck you," he replied hurridly.

She obliged, he leaned down spit on her pussy, slapping it. A bit sensitive, Y/N yelped in shock and moaned in pleasure as his cock slammed into her. He held onto her hips as he continued to fuck her into the mattress.

"Are you going to come again for me?" he asked moving one of his hand's from her hips to grip her breast. Y/N was fucked out. She couldn't respond, but Luigi was a talker. He asked her again gripping her chin with his thumb and index finger, "Hey- are you going to come for me again?" he asked more sternly.

"Yes, I'm going to come" she replied breathlessly.

"No one's ever made you squirt like that huh?" he asked.

"No one has, you're the only one" she replied.

"Fuck-" he groaned picking up speed. Her breasts were swaying back and forth from the force of his thrusts, she could tell he was close.

"You're the only one whose ever made me squirt Lu, you're the only one" she replied holding one of his hands, he intertwined their fingers.

"Y/N fuck- fuck I'm coming-- I'm comin- Y/N I-" he couldn't even get the sentence out and Y/N wouldn't had even heard it as the blood rushed to her ears as she came hard. He collapsed on top of her their chests rising and falling rapidly. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, caressing the hair at the name of his neck. He lifted up his head to look at her, his signature Luigi smiled plastered on his face. It was a contrast to who he was minutes ago slapping her face and condescendingly nodding when asking her if his cock felt good inside of her.

"Was that okay?" he asked. He was overthinking, typical Luigi.

"Yes baby that was more than okay, I think me coming twice proves that" she replied amused at his look of shyness.

"Okay I just wasn't sure if you'd be into me being rough and I didn't want to hurt you and I-" she cut him off by kissing him.

She pulled away, "I'm fine, I loved it." she replied sweetly and he smiled shyly embarrassed and replied with an 'okay good' under his breath, she could see a proud smile forming on his face.

"So how are we going to explain us to the others?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, maybe we can get a cake or something and write 'Hey we did it' and present it to them." she said.

"That's a good idea" he replied truthfully. Y/N always liked how he got her humor. "But first we need to go to CVS" he replied.

"Why?" Y/N asked.

"To get the cake and a Plan B. They have cake at CVS?" he asked making his way to her side of the bed picking her up bridal style. Y/N let out a yelp in shock.

"They don't have cake at CVS," she replied dryly.

"Okay we'll get the Plan B tonight and we'll wake up early and stop by the bakery." Luigi replied.

"You're sleeping over I assume?" Y/N asked lifting her eyebrows as Luigi continued walking in the direction of the bathroom.

"Of course I am baby, it's going to be our Friday night tradition and make sure you let the group chat know how this Friday night was I want to hear a full breakdown, review, and rating of tonight's events." Luigi said enthusiastically.

"Lu I am not telling them that we slept together and I sure as hell am not rating it" Y/N replied shocked.

Luigi replied, "I'm kidding baby, but I would like some one on one feedback if you don't mind" he replied wiggling his eyebrows and laughing as he lead them into the shower.

[solelifauna]

Definitely NOT Invincible (Yandere Invincible & Reader)

Pt.5

Guys, I'm cooked. Anyways, thank you for all the kind words!!! Also Y/n's cooked too...anyways! Enjoy!

ALSO!! EVERYONE THANK @oof-spoof!! THIS SERIES IS NOW BASICALLY DEDICATED TO THEM!!! Thank you @oof-spoof for supporting me!

The group fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your words sinking in as if the world itself had pressed down on your shoulders. It wasn’t just about stopping Omni-Man and Invincible or sending that crucial tip to the Guardians of the Globe—it was about surviving long enough to make any of it matter.

The irrefutable fact lingered in the back of everyone’s mind, unspoken but looming: you might be killed again.

Your stomach churned at the thought, the memory of your father’s hand crushing your skull replaying in vivid, excruciating detail. The sound, the pressure, the blinding pain—it haunted you in ways you couldn’t even articulate. And if not that, then what? Would it be a more horrific death this time? Burned alive? Torn apart?

You looked around the table, the same realization written on the faces of your friends. Hallie was biting her lip, staring blankly at the table as her fingers drummed nervously. Connor’s jaw was clenched, his fists curled tightly on his lap. Weston was silent, his expression unreadable, but his tired eyes betrayed him.

Finally, Weston broke the silence. “I’ll figure out how to send the tip,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. His gaze shifted between each of you before landing back on his hands. “You guys focus on keeping our… other obligation in check.”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten about the Demogorgons. Those damn things hadn’t been on your radar for the past few days, but they were still out there, roaming the town, lurking in shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Judging by the groans and sighs from Connor and Hallie, they’d forgotten too.

“Everyone still has their things, right?” you asked, already mentally cataloging what you had at home.

Hallie sat up straighter, brushing her hair out of her face. “Got my pump action and bolt action in my trunk and in my closet,” she said, her voice steadier than her posture.

Connor leaned back, rubbing his temples. “Got ammo and a G-48, Haymitch's axe, and the machete,” he listed off, his tone bordering on exhaustion.

“I still have the smoke bombs and my dad’s rifle he thinks he sold,” Weston added, his voice low but firm.

You nodded, storing the information away. “Good. We’ll need all that and more.”

The silence that followed was thick with understanding. You’d fought these monsters before. You’d survived the impossible. But this time, it wasn’t just about survival. It was about holding the line, balancing the dual threats of the Demogorgons and the looming Viltrumite takeover.

"I say we prepare for the worst," you finally say, your voice cutting through the silence. "Stock up on ammo when you can, supplies, canned food, and whatever else we’ll need. We have to be ready in case everything goes to shit again, in case… in case what we do doesn’t work—"

“Don’t.” Connor’s voice cuts you off, sharp and sudden. “Don’t say that, (Y/n).”

You flinch at the rawness in his voice, the sheer force of his words.

“Connor—” you start, but he barrels forward, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking.

“It has to work!” he says, his voice trembling. “It has to, or else—” He looks away, jaw tight, his hands clenching into fists. “Or else that means we fought for nothing. That means all those people who died—who are going to die—died for nothing. That means we came back for nothing.”

His words hang in the air, raw and painful. You feel them hit you like a punch to the gut.

Your lips press together tightly as you try to find something—anything—to say. Connor was always the "strong" one of the group, the silent type, the brash one who rarely let anyone see how deeply he felt things. He was the backbone, the shoulder everyone else could lean on when things got tough. Seeing him like this, unraveling, hurts more than you want to admit.

“I’m—I’m sorry, Connor,” you finally manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, I’m sorry,” he mutters, his eyes watery as he scrubs at his face with the back of his hand. His voice cracks slightly as he continues, “You—you’re just doing what you always do, trying to keep us alive. I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize, Con,” you say quickly, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze. “I—I get it. Really, I do.”

The tension around the table is palpable. Hallie and Weston exchange uneasy glances, their worry for Connor evident in the grim lines of their faces.

“Connor,” Hallie starts gently, her voice low and careful, “nobody’s saying what happened before will happen again, but—”

“I know,” he cuts her off, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. He lets out a shaky breath and sinks back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know. But we have to consider the high chance it will.”

The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the thought of failing—of going through all of it again—was unbearable.

But you didn’t have a choice.

You glanced at each of them in turn, taking in their tired faces, the fear lingering in their eyes. They were your family, your only anchor in a world that felt increasingly impossible to navigate.

“We’ll make it work,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “I don’t know how yet, but we will.”

You don’t know if they believe you, and honestly, you’re not even sure if you believe yourself. 

Weston’s hand comes to rest on Connor’s shoulder, rubbing little circles in that gentle, soothing way he always did to calm the group down. It was such a Weston thing to do—he had always been physical with his care and affection, expressing his love in small touches and gestures that reminded you all you weren’t alone. You see Connor’s shoulders relax just slightly under Weston’s touch, though the tension doesn’t completely leave him.

You shift closer, moving to sit beside Connor, offering your silent presence as support. Across the table, Hallie slides her water bottle toward him, her brow furrowed in worry. “Here,” she says softly. Her voice doesn’t waver, but her eyes betray the depth of her concern. Connor takes the bottle with a small, muttered “thanks,” and sips from it, his gaze distant.

The weight of the moment settles over all of you, thick and suffocating. No one says anything for a while, and for a brief moment, the only sound is the distant hum of chatter from other tables in the courtyard.

Then the lunch bell rings, cutting through the stillness like a knife, signaling it’s time to go back to class. The sound sends a jolt through you, and you see the same dread reflected in everyone’s faces. None of you want to go. Yet, there was nothing you could do.

You all stand reluctantly, gathering your things in silence. Before you split up, you squeeze Connor’s shoulder gently, hoping it conveys what you can’t find the words to say. He offers a faint smile.

You walk into the crowded hallway, your mind scrambling as you try to recall your next class. What was it? You swear you knew just minutes ago, but now the information is gone, like a wisp of smoke slipping through your fingers.

You glance around desperately, hoping to recognize a familiar face, someone who might share the class with you. But the sea of students around you is a blur of faces you barely recognize. Who the hell are these people? You don’t remember their names, their voices, their stories. They’re strangers, even though you know you should know them.

Panic creeps up your spine as you weave through the hall, your breathing growing shallow. You’re losing it. You’re losing yourself, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The realization claws at you, sharp and unrelenting.

You hate this. You hate what this world, what this second chance, has reduced you to. What it’s reduced all of you to.

Your hands tremble as you tighten your grip on your bag, willing the shaking to stop, but it doesn’t. You pass classrooms, peeking inside, hoping something will click—a desk, a teacher, a face. But nothing does.

The hallways start growing emptier as students file into their classrooms, the bustling energy fading into a deafening quiet. You glance around, the panic tightening in your chest. Where the hell were you supposed to go?

Your mind scrambles, trying to latch onto something—anything—that will tell you your next class. The answer eludes you, slipping through your fingers like sand. You fumble with your phone, attempting to log into your student portal. At least that would show your schedule, right?

Except the password isn’t auto-saved. Of course, it isn’t.

You sit there staring at the login screen, willing your brain to remember your credentials, but nothing comes. It’s just another blank void. Great. Now you can’t even see your schedule, let alone your grades. Not that grades should be at the top of your concerns right now, but still, the thought gnaws at the back of your mind. You’re so screwed.

You lean against a row of lockers, the cold metal biting into your back as you let out a frustrated sigh. What the hell do I do now? Asking the front desk for help is out of the question. It’s the middle of the school year, and no one forgets their schedule this far in. It would raise questions. And why couldn’t you just look it up yourself? The idea of facing that judgment makes you cringe.

No, you can’t do that.

Instead, you resign yourself to staying in a random, empty hallway, slumping down against the wall. The quiet envelops you, a brief respite from the overwhelming noise in your head. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle around you. God, you didn’t realize how much your eyes were burning, how much your body ached.

The idea of just staying here, hidden and still, is so tempting. Maybe you could just chill here for a while. Yeah, that sounded nice. Just a little break.

You don’t realize how much time passes as you sit there, your mind drifting between the chaos of your thoughts and the exhaustion weighing you down. For a brief moment, you feel the smallest sliver of peace.

Until a voice shatters it.

“Playing hooky, (Y/n)?”

Your stomach drops. No. Not him. Not now.

Mark’s voice carries that unmistakable mix of smugness and sharpness, the tone that always made you want to squirm. “Tch, Mom and Dad are not going to be happy. Especially after the last meeting your counselor had about your little habit of skipping classes.”

You open your eyes, and there he is, standing over you with a smirk that makes you want to curl in on yourself. His eyes bore into yours, sharp and calculating, as if he’s dissecting you piece by piece.

“W-what? When did—oh shit,” you stammer, the memory hitting you like a brick. He’s talking about the meeting. You’d skipped a bunch of classes last semester to deal with the Demogorgons. Sure, you kept your grades up, but that didn’t stop the school from calling your mom. And to say she was upset was an understatement.

Mark’s smirk widens as he watches the realization dawn on your face. “Ah, there it is,” he says mockingly, leaning against the wall. “I’m sure Mom will love hearing about this. You know how she feels about second chances.”

You glare at him, the panic in your chest now mixed with frustration. “Mark, I—look, just don’t. Please.”

His expression softens, but only slightly. There’s still that edge to his voice, that unnerving mix of concern and menace. “Don’t what? Tell her? You’re not making this easy, you know. Skipping class, hiding out like this… It’s like you want her to freak out.”

“I just—” You falter, your words failing you. The exhaustion, the stress, the sheer overwhelming nature of everything—it’s all too much. You can’t think of a good excuse, and Mark’s gaze feels like it’s cutting through every lie you might try to tell.

He crouches down, leveling his eyes with yours. “What’s going on with you, (Y/n)?” he asks, his voice softer now but no less piercing. “You’ve been off. I know you’re not telling me everything.”

You look away, unable to meet his gaze.

Mark’s words linger in the air like a trap, waiting for you to fall in. “Are you depressed or something? Maybe it’s a boy? I don’t know, (Y/n), but something’s off. I know it is,” he says, his tone dripping with faux concern. “Just tell me. Tell your big brother, and I can make it go away.”

The irony of it all hits you like a freight train, and you can’t help it—you huff, then giggle, and then it all spirals out of control. A laugh bubbles out of you, wild and uncontainable, quickly escalating into full-blown hysterics. You’re wheezing now, clutching your sides, and you know you must look insane. Maybe you are. How could you not be?

It’s funny, really. The idea that he, Mark, could fix your problems. That he could “make it go away.” It’s laughable because a massive chunk of your problems is sitting right in front of you, watching you unravel with that same calculating smirk. How utterly absurd.

Your laughter devolves into choked breaths as your chest tightens painfully. The tears come next, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. You’re sobbing now, loud and ugly, your body shaking uncontrollably.

Mark’s expression shifts, surprise flickering in his eyes. Then something darker takes hold—something intrigued, almost amused. He wasn’t expecting this, but oh, was he glad. He leans in closer, his lips curling into a softer smile. There was something seriously wrong with you. He knew it now. And that knowledge only made him more eager to figure out what had happened to his weak, adorable little sister.

“Oh, (Y/n),” he coos, his voice deceptively sweet as he cups your cheek with his large, warm hand. His thumb brushes against your tear-streaked skin, wiping away the evidence of your breakdown. His touch is firm but gentle, an unnerving mix of comfort and control.

You try to flinch away, your instincts screaming at you to get out of his grasp, but your body betrays you. Exhausted and overwhelmed, you slump into his hand, your head tilting slightly as if seeking solace. You hate it. You hate yourself for it. But you’re only human, and his warmth feels like the only anchor keeping you from completely spiraling.

“St-stop this,” you choke out between sobs, your voice barely audible. “Puh-please.”

Mark tilts his head, his expression almost mockingly innocent. “Stop what, (Y/n)?” he asks softly, his voice laced with feigned confusion.

“This,” you gasp, your voice trembling. “This—what you—you’re doing. Please, it—it isn’t fair.”

His hand doesn’t move from your cheek, and his thumb continues its slow, deliberate motion, wiping away fresh tears as they fall. His smile softens further, but his eyes remain sharp, predatory.

“Fair?” he echoes, as if tasting the word. “Oh, (Y/n). Life isn’t fair. You know that.” His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. “But you don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything. That’s what I’m here for.”

You shake your head weakly, your sobs growing quieter but no less intense. “You—”

He interrupts you gently, his voice soothing but utterly condescending. “Shh. Just let me take care of you.”

The words send a chill down your spine, the weight of his intent pressing down on you. You know there’s no escaping him now, not when he’s latched onto you like this. Not when he’s decided you’re his problem to solve, his little sister to protect—even if it means breaking you further in the process.

Mark’s gaze lingers on your trembling form, his hand still cradling your cheek. He studies you with a mix of curiosity and calculation, the wheels turning in his mind as he contemplates your place in all of this. Maybe he could make something useful out of you. Maybe you could be shaped into something worthy of the Viltrumite cause.

But as he takes in your tear-streaked face, the way your body shakes beneath his touch, he doubts it. You’re too weak. Too small. Too soft.

It’s almost pathetic how fragile you are, how human you are.

Still, the thought lingers—what if? What if you could prove yourself? What if, against all odds, you showed even the slightest potential? Perhaps then he could convince their father to keep you after the takeover. It would be difficult, of course. Nolan had little patience for weakness, and you were the embodiment of everything the Viltrumite race despised. But if you somehow managed to prove your worth, there was a chance.

Mark’s lips curve into a faint smile, the thought of sparing you for his mother’s sake bringing him a strange sense of satisfaction. You weren’t ideal offspring, no, far from it. But you were her daughter. Debbie would appreciate having you around, he’s sure of it, especially when their father inevitably takes her away from Earth to shield her from the chaos of their conquest.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Mark murmurs, his voice low and smooth. His thumb pauses for a moment, pressing lightly against your cheekbone as his eyes bore into yours. “If it weren’t for Mom, I wouldn’t even consider giving you a chance. But maybe… maybe you’ll surprise us.”

You blink at him, your chest tightening as his words sink in. “A-a chance? Mark, what are you—”

He cuts you off, his smile widening slightly, but there’s no warmth in it. “You’ll see,” he says cryptically, pulling his hand away and standing to his full height. His shadow looms over you, and for a brief moment, you feel like you’re shrinking under his gaze.

“Just remember, (Y/n),” he adds, his tone shifting to something colder, more deliberate. “This world isn’t kind to people like you. But you’re lucky to have me. I’ll make sure you don’t get left behind.”

The words feel like a promise and a threat all at once, leaving you frozen in place as he turns and walks away, his presence lingering long after he’s gone.

You’re left alone in the empty hallway, your breaths shaky and uneven, the weight of his intentions pressing down on you like a vice. Lucky, he said. But you don’t feel lucky. You feel trapped. And no amount of tears can wash that feeling away.

You sit there, slumped against the wall, trying to process what the hell Mark was talking about. “If it weren’t for Mom?” What does that even mean? Why would she have anything to do with whether Mark decided to “give you a chance?” What kind of chance was he even talking about?

Your mind spirals as you try to make sense of his cryptic words, the unease clawing at your insides. The idea that your mother somehow factored into whatever twisted plans Mark had for you only made the knot in your stomach tighten. What was he planning? What did he mean by not getting left behind?

Your thoughts race, one question bleeding into the next as panic wells up inside you. You can’t piece it together. You don’t have enough information. But the way he looked at you—the cold calculation behind his eyes, the way his words felt like a threat wrapped in false care—it makes your skin crawl.

You bury your face in your hands, your breathing shallow as your mind loops through the interaction. What the hell is going on?

Meanwhile, Mark is on his way out of the school building, his phone already in hand. He dials the familiar number, his expression cool and composed. The phone rings only twice before the unmistakable voice of his father, Nolan, answers.

“What is it?” Omni-Man’s voice is gruff, direct, as always.

Mark leans against the wall outside, his tone calm but tinged with a quiet urgency. “It’s about (Y/n),” he begins, cutting straight to the point. “There’s something off with her. More than usual.”

On the other end of the line, Nolan sighs. His voice is bored, disinterested. “Mark, your sister has always been like this. Emotional and a bit erratic. It’s nothing new.”

Mark clenches his jaw but keeps his tone steady. “No, Dad, this is different. She’s acting weird—like, really weird. Come’on, I’m sure you’ve noticed how she’s stopped constantly asking to go out with us? Or how everytime she looks at one of us, her heart rate always increases, hell, I could smell the adrenaline rush that gets triggered.”

Nolan’s silence stretches for a moment. “Dad, why is she having a fight or flight, fear response triggered, huh?”

“Of course I’ve noticed, Mark,” Omni-man sighs out. “If it’s worth worrying about, I’ll handle it. But until then, she’s just…” He pauses, and Mark can practically see the look on his father’s face. “She’s still a human.”

Mark exhales sharply, but he doesn’t argue. He knows better than to push Nolan when he’s like this. “Fine,” he says, his voice tight. “But if I find out something important, I’ll let you know.”

“Do that,” Nolan replies curtly, and the line goes dead.

Mark slips his phone back into his pocket, his expression unreadable. He’s not entirely satisfied with his father’s response, but he’s also not surprised. Nolan has never had much patience for what he considers “mundane human nonsense.” If (Y/n)’s behavior didn’t involve anything worthy of the Viltrumite cause, it simply wasn’t a priority to him.

Still, Mark can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this than his father realizes. And if Nolan won’t take it seriously, then Mark will.

[alsofoundinpeas]

Beyond the Window

Summary: With her package plan a success, the only thing standing between Y/N and Spencer now was his job. But as soon as he returned home, nothing would hold them back from finally acting on their feelings—this time, with no windows in the way.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Some might consider this dubcon (talk of Spencer watching reader through her window but reader had wanted him to) so please be aware of that! Fingering (f!receiving), oral (both m and f receiving), unprotected P in V sex (birth control mentioned), overstimulation/multiple orgasms (both m and f receiving), dry humping (if you squint), creampie (fuck I hate typing that), minor corruption kink, heavy praise, Virgin!Spencer, Sub!Spencer (he is pathetic and LOUD in this FYI), Soft Dom!reader, Perv!Spencer and Perv!Reader (they're back at it again LMFAO). Both fluffy and smutty. They match each other’s freak your honor!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: Anddd done! This was, to date, the filthiest thing I've written so I'm nervous but I also loved writing it LMAO. I hope you guys enjoy part two as much as I enjoyed writing it :') I'll be putting out more sub!Spence in the future, but for now I hope you guys like this!! As always, please let me know what you guys think and if you do enjoy it then please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

Spencer was certain the universe was playing a cruel, twisted prank on him.

It was the only explanation for being called into work early on a Sunday morning when he was supposed to be off. The night before, he’d gone to bed without replying to Y/N, hoping to come up with the perfect witty, flirty response the next day—when his brain wasn't a pile of mush. As he hurried to pack a go-bag and get dressed, Spencer cursed under his breath for waiting. Now, he’d have to send a hasty, jumbled apology and hope that Y/N would still want him to come over when he got back.

While Spencer drove—a task he loathed but had no choice in, given the lack of time for the metro—Penelope briefed him on the case details. The team was being sent to Wyoming to assist with a rapidly escalating unsub, which explained the need to get there quickly. Spencer couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as Penelope spoke. Even with the case's urgency, his mind kept returning to Y/N.

“Reid?” Penelope sighed, then tried again. “Hello? Earth to Reid?!”

Spencer snapped back to reality, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. “Sorry, I got distracted. What was the last part again?”

Penelope's laughter echoed through the phone. “What’s keeping your mind so busy? Besides all your usual genius stuff, that is."

Spencer groaned, knowing that the blonde wouldn’t stop pressing until she got an answer. With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly began to explain.

"There’s this girl who lives across from me, and I’ve had a crush on her for a while… We’d run into each other a few times at the library and the coffee shop near my place, but recently, a package of hers ended up at my door. I took it to her yesterday morning, and we ended up hanging out—" He paused, swallowing hard as his mind drifted to what had happened that night, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. "Anyway, she texted me to come over again, but then I got called in for the case. So, yeah, she’s just been on my mind."

Spencer winced as a loud squeal erupted from the phone, quickly followed by the sound of enthusiastic clapping.

“Spencer! That’s adorable! What’s her name?”

“Nope. Not a chance. I know you’ll look her up and start stalking her!” Spencer protested as he pulled into the parking garage. “Look, I just got here, so I’ll see you when we get back. Please keep this between us for now, alright? I don’t need everyone hounding me about it while we have a case to focus on.”

Penelope groaned dramatically but gave in, sighing in playful annoyance. “Ugh, fine, lover boy. You just ruined all my fun,” she grumbled. “Be safe, my sweet angel, and tell Derek to call me when you guys land!”

Spencer finished the call and hung up, swiftly typing out a message to send to Y/N before he had to go in. His thumbs clumsily pressed the buttons as he hurried, letting out an annoyed sigh as he fumbled with his flip-phone. He’d never been a fan of modern technology, but if getting a new phone meant it would be easier to talk to her, he’d consider it.

Good morning! I hope you slept well. Apologies for the late response. I’d love to come over, but unfortunately, I’ve been called in for a case. Would you still like me to come by once I get back?

Spencer gave a nod to himself, hit send, then gathered his things and stepped out of the car.

Y/N paused when she heard her phone ding, toothbrush still in her mouth. She quickly finished brushing, swishing mouthwash as she walked to her room to grab her phone. Returning to the bathroom, she spat out the mouthwash before finally glancing at the waiting text.

A small giggle fell from her lips as she read Spencer’s message, leaning back against the sink as she responded.

Of course, Spencer. Only if you want to :) xoxo

He texted like an old man (which wasn't surprising, considering his wardrobe). She thought it was charming. She placed her phone on the bathroom counter and stepped toward the shower to start the water, a smile still playing on her lips from his message.

A content sigh fell from her lips once she stepped into the hot stream of water, letting the water relax her tight muscles.

As her soapy hands began to wander her body, her mind wandered back to Spencer and just how deliciously pathetic he’d looked stroking himself to the sight of her. Honestly, Y/N had worried she’d scared the poor guy with her message after he’d watched her the night before, so seeing his text was a relief. Now, she just had to wait for him to return from his case—and then he’d finally be all hers.

The week crawled by, each day stretching on painfully, leaving both of them restless and longing for each other's company.

Each night when Y/N came home, she’d glance out of her curtains, hoping to see that Spencer had returned, only to let out a quiet sigh when she found he hadn’t. She couldn’t remember ever being this excited to see someone before. Something about Spencer had her completely hooked—not just his looks, but the man behind them. After spending time with him, she was eager to uncover more about the sweet, brilliant person who lived across from her.

Another four days went by before the text she’d been waiting for finally came through.

Hey pretty girl, we just landed so I’ll be home in about an hour. Are you up for some company?

Y/N arched a brow as she read the message, re-reading it a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. That didn’t sound like Spencer at all… but she was too eager for him to come over to worry about it now. She’d figure out who actually sent it when he arrived.

With a small grin, Y/N typed her reply, then set her phone down to get ready and tidy up her apartment.

“Morgan! Come on! Are you serious?” Spencer griped, swatting at the man in an attempt to grab his phone back. “What did you say to her?”

Penelope had (accidentally) let it slip to Morgan that Spencer was, in her words, "dating but not dating this super cute girl who lives across from him." Naturally, she’d ignored his requests for privacy, tracked down the tenant list for Y/N’s building, and found her online after figuring out she was the one. So, when Morgan glanced over Spencer's shoulder and saw the carefully composed message he’d written, he snatched the phone and sent something entirely different.

“Relax, kid! I’m just helping you out. You’re going to scare her off if you keep talking to her like a geezer,” Morgan chuckled, tossing him back his phone before standing from his seat and stretching. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Spencer sighed, shaking his head in frustration before unlocking his phone to check the message. He cringed at what Morgan had sent, but then his heart skipped a beat as he read Y/N’s reply.

Come over whenever you’re ready, pretty boy. I can’t wait to see you. :)

Spencer’s face flushed as he brushed off the curious looks from the team, eager to get off the jet and head home to drop his stuff off—then straight to Y/N’s. A mix of nervousness and excitement churned inside him, his hands trembling as he started the drive home. It felt surreal to him, knowing not only that she was excited to see him, but that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

A firm knock at the door pulled Y/N’s attention from the couch, a bright smile spreading across her face as she jumped up to answer it. "Coming!" she called, quickly unlocking the door. When she opened it, Spencer stood there, looking a bit nervous and holding a bag of takeout from her favorite diner.

"Oh, Spencer," she murmured, her gaze softening as she noticed the bag. "You’re so sweet! You didn’t have to get dinner—I was planning to order something when you got here." She stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him and taking the bag from his hand so he could slip off his coat.

Spencer waved it off with a sheepish grin as he followed her into the kitchen. "I wanted to," he said. "I noticed you ordered from them a lot and thought it would be a nice surprise." His eyes widened in panic. "Not that I’ve been, like, stalking you or anything! And, um, I'm sorry if I didn’t pick the right thing. I can run back and grab something else—"

“Spencer.”

Y/N sat down the plates she'd gotten out for them and silenced his nervous rambling by gently cupping his cheeks. Spencer froze mid-sentence, his mouth slightly open as he looked down at her. She smiled up at him, softly stroking her thumb along his cheekbone.

“You did perfect, sweetheart,” she reassured him, her gaze flicking to his lips for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “It was so thoughtful of you to pick up dinner. I'm sure I'll enjoy whatever you ordered. Thank you.”

Spencer swallowed, his heart pounding at the feel of her hands on his face. He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself before he whispered, “Of course.”

Y/N smiled, brushing her hand over his cheek one last time before turning back to plate the food, which looked and smelled delicious. Once she finished, she headed to the fridge, glancing back at Spencer. "Wine, water, or soda?"

"Water, please. Thank you."

Nodding, Y/N poured herself a glass of wine and then filled one with water for him. They walked into the living room, both of them buzzing with anticipation for what was to come later. They sat side by side, enjoying the warmth that came from being pressed together as they began to eat.

"So," Y/N started, laughing softly before continuing. "Who texted me from your phone earlier today? Unless the grandfather ghost inhabiting your body decided to take a rain check."

Spencer groaned in embarrassment, chuckling awkwardly as he glanced at her. "Sorry about that… that was my co-worker, Derek. And best friend too. He accused me of 'talking to you like a geezer' and decided to try and do better himself."

Y/N laughed even harder, putting her fork down to take a sip of her wine before replying. "I knew it wasn’t you!" she said with a triumphant grin, then paused, a new realization dawning on her. "You talk about me to your team?"

Spencer hesitated, finishing his bite slowly before taking a drink and nodding. "Sort of… I told Penelope about you, and then she mentioned it to Derek. I’m sorry—i-is that okay?" His fingers pushed his glasses up, a nervous habit of his.

It was more than okay. A giddy feeling rushed through her at the idea of him talking about her to his co-workers, recalling how he'd mentioned during their first hangout how much he valued them. She nodded, nudging him with her shoulder gently.

“You apologize too much, Spence. It’s totally fine. If anything, I’m flattered,” she admitted with a grin.

It didn’t take long for them to finish eating. Once the plates were cleared and placed in the sink, Y/N turned to Spencer, a small smirk playing on her lips. Spencer swallowed, leaning back against the counter, his eyes locked on her with a mix of curiosity as she began to speak.

"Do you watch every girl you're interested in through their window? Or am I just special?"

Her tone was playful, not angry or accusatory, but Spencer still tensed, stumbling over his words as he tried to explain himself.

"I swear I didn’t mean to come off as creepy or anything," Spencer stammered. "It’s just… from the moment I met you in the library, you were so captivating. And when I found out you lived across from me, I couldn’t help myself—"

Y/N's gaze softened as she realized just how nervous he actually was, and she took a step forward, shushing him with a finger to his lips.

"Spence, hey. Look at me, sweetheart,” she murmured, her arms loosely wrapping around his neck. She waited until their eyes met, then continued, her fingers gently twisting the hair at the nape of his neck. “I was just teasing. I wanted you to watch. That’s why I left my curtains open.”

Spencer’s eyes widened at her admission, a shaky sigh escaping his lips as he recalled every time she’d left her curtains open. All this time, she had wanted him to watch. The realization sent a strange warmth through him, and he carefully placed his hands on her waist.

“So, was the package at my door part of your plan too?” he breathed, his expression a blend of lust and adoration as he looked down at her.

Y/N's answer came in the form of a nod and a smug grin. Spencer chuckled, his nerves easing the longer he held her in his arms.

"I didn’t think you’d ever make a move, so I decided to take matters into my own hands," she said softly, still grinning as she met his gaze, mirroring the admiration in his eyes.

Spencer wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer. “Is it wrong to say I’m glad you did?” he murmured, his hands gently caressing her lower back through her shirt. “You’re just… perfect. I was afraid you wouldn’t even give me the time of day if I’d tried to.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open in surprise, her brows furrowing as she tilted her head. “Are you serious?” she asked incredulously, letting her hands slide to rest on his shoulders as she leaned back in his embrace. “Spencer, I adore you. You could’ve asked me out in the library, right then, after just thirty seconds of knowing each other, and I would’ve said yes without a second thought. You really don’t give yourself enough credit.”

She tilted her head up, brushing her nose against his, continuing before he could speak. "Let me show you just how incredible I think you are. Please?"

Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, his heart racing at her words. It was exactly what he wanted, more than anything. But he hesitated, his mouth working as he fought to find the right words.

"I'm a virgin!" he not-so-eloquently blurted out instead.

Y/N's head jerked back, blinking hard as she processed his words. Had she heard him right?

"Wait... what did you just say?"

Spencer blushed hard, averting his gaze to the ground as he repeated himself.

"I'm a virgin."

It was Y/N’s turn to suck in a sharp breath, the admission arousing her more than she’d care to admit. She rubbed his shoulders gently before using one of her hands to guide his face back to hers, her gaze earnest as she looked at him.

“Honey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything at all—“

Spencer shook his head vigorously at that, a low whine emitting from his throat as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I want to do everything with you. I want to more than anything, I swear! I-I just… I don’t want it to be bad for you,” he whispered, unnecessary shame lacing his words.

“Spencer… sweetheart, it would never be bad for me as long as I’m with you,” Y/N whispered, her voice warm and steady. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, babe. Honestly, we could just curl up on the couch, watch a movie, or talk. I love talking with you, about anything.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at her words. No one had ever told him they truly enjoyed his company before, nor had anyone ever shown such genuine affection or concern for his emotions. It was a feeling he hadn’t known he was missing.

“I’m more than sure, Y/N. Please?” he mumbled, his grip on her hips tightening slightly. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

She paused, her eyes closing as she carefully considered her next move. After a long breath, Y/N gave a small nod, then pulled away from him completely.

“Follow me, then.”

Spencer hurried after her, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his eagerness to keep up. Once they reached her bedroom, Y/N shut the door and turned to face him, leaving him standing in the middle of her dimly lit room. He glanced around, almost in disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was really here—standing in her room and not caught in some dream.

“Bet it feels different being in here rather than just looking in,” Y/N teased, stepping closer to him.

“Very. I’m still waiting for the cameraman to jump out and tell me it’s all a prank.”

A soft laugh escaped her, and she shook her head with a smirk. “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not happening. No prank, sweetheart,” she hummed, her eyes catching the way his gaze swept over her, full of unspoken desire.

Y/N smirked as she took another step forward, urging Spencer backward until the backs of his knees hit her mattress. She reached up, pushing down gently on his shoulders until he gingerly sat on the bed, looking up at her with wide eyes as she moved to straddle his lap. Her fingers carded through his hair, tugging gently and eliciting a whimper from him as she cocked her head.

“Quit looking at me like that,” she murmured, scratching her nails gently against his scalp.

A shiver ran down Spencer’s spine, his brows furrowing at her words. He shifted underneath her, resting his shaking hands on her hips. His tongue poked out to wet his lips, and he didn’t miss the way her eyes darkened at the sight.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to ruin you.”

Y/N’s words lingered in the air, their breaths the only sound breaking the stillness. The tension between them was electric, each waiting for the other to break first. Finally, Spencer did, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke.

“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

The slight tremble in his voice and the doe-eyed look he sported were all it took for Y/N’s resolve to crumble completely.

With a low groan, her lips crashed onto his. Their mouths melded together, the small whine bubbling in Spencer’s throat encouraging her to kiss him even harder. His hands reached up to cradle her face, matching her intensity as their lips moved together.

It wasn’t what she’d expected at all.

Spencer didn’t kiss her like the shy, hesitant man from earlier. Instead, his kiss was fiery, almost desperate, as though he wanted to drown in her and never resurface. And she found herself wanting exactly the same.

Y/N’s hands wandered from his hair down his chest, letting her fingertips dip beneath the hem of his shirt as their tongues brushed together. Her nails gently dragged along the soft skin there, and she felt his erection twitch from where it was firmly pressed to her core. Spencer whimpered, breaking their kiss with a soft gasp as he looked up at her pleadingly.

“Please,” he panted, his hands reaching for her hips to pull her down into him. Y/N rolled her hips against his, moaning lowly at the friction. She repeated the action once before stopping her movements, climbing off of him despite his protests with one simple command.

"Take off your clothes, Spence."

He complied immediately, scrambling to stand and strip out of his clothes. His fingers fumbled as he worked at his tie, his focus stuck on her as she undressed before him. A frustrated groan left his lips as he finally yanked the tie off, his hands moving too slowly for his own liking.

Y/N arched a brow, chuckling at his irritated noise as she stepped out of her pants. She reached up to stop his hands, beginning to unbutton his shirt herself. "What's got you so worked up, hm? It's not like it's anything you haven't seen before," she purred, sliding her hands under the fabric and slipping it off of him.

The shirt hit the ground with a muted thump, and her eyes roamed over his newly exposed skin hungrily. Spencer whined at her teasing, letting his hands roam up and down her sides as she worked on getting his pants off.

"I could see you like this an infinite amount of times, and it would still take my breath away every time," he murmured, his hands gently squeezing her hips.

A faint pink spread across her cheeks at his words, and she lifted her face to place a soft kiss on his lips, a silent thank you. No one had ever made her feel as treasured as Spencer did. He gazed at her with a devotion that felt almost reverent, as though she were someone to be worshipped—and he longed to be the one to worship her.

Which was highly ironic, considering she was the one sinking to her knees the second his pants pooled around his ankles.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Spencer's voice raised pitch as she steadied herself with her hands on his thighs, looking down at her with wide eyes, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they threatened to slip down from the angle.

"What does it look like I'm doing, sweetheart?" Y/N murmured, leaning forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to his hip. "I want your pretty cock down my throat. You okay with that?"

The sound Spencer made was almost pained, his fists clenching at his sides as he struggled to figure out what to do with his hands. His mouth parted, a stutter escaping him before he finally gave in, nodding instead. His cock twitched in his boxers, aching to feel her touch.

"Words, baby. Use your words."

Y/N's lips skimmed across his navel, peppering kisses along the smattering of hair there as she waited for his response.

"God—yes! I'm okay with that," Spencer whined, his hips bucking forward instinctively from her touch. "Please... please touch me—"

Y/N couldn't deny such sweet begging. It would be downright cruel if she did.

Her fingers found the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down slowly. She kept her eyes locked on his, carefully assessing his every reaction to ensure there was no trace of doubt before proceeding. When she saw none, she swiftly yanked them down the rest of the way, letting them pool around his ankles with his pants.

Spencer gasped as the chill of her bedroom air met his warm skin, goosebumps spreading across his arms as he fought the urge to shy away from her gaze. He never thought that highly of himself in the physical aspect— all lean muscles, lanky limbs, and pale skin spattered with freckles and a few random scars. But his insecurities faded the moment he heard her breath catch, her eyes filled with admiration as they lingered on him.

"You're so beautiful, Spencer," Y/N breathed, bringing a hand up to grip him gently. "So, so beautiful."

Her mouth was on him before he could respond.

A keening sound filled the room as he watched in pure awe as she dragged her tongue up and down the length of him slowly before her lips wrapped around the flushed head of his cock, a spark of pleasure shooting up his spine as his hands flexed by his side. She sucked gently, swirling her tongue around the tip before pulling off of him to speak.

"Don't be afraid to hold onto me, sweetheart. Go ahead."

Spencer's hands immediately came up to cradle the back of her head, finding purchase as she returned to what she was doing. The sight of her on her knees and taking the length of him into her mouth had his knees almost buckling. It was something he'd dreamed about for nights on end, but now that it was actually happening, he didn't know what to do with himself.

"F-fuck—" He whimpered, his eyes squeezing shut to prevent himself from cumming right then and there.

All he'd ever experienced before was his own hand (and occasionally some desperate humping against his mattress), so the feeling of her mouth around him was otherworldly. Just when he thought it was safe to open his eyes again, Y/N smirked around her mouthful and pushed her head down to take him in completely.

"Oh—!" Spencer cried out as he hit the back of her throat, jolting and stumbling backward and falling out of her mouth with a slick 'pop'. His chest heaved as he reached down to grip himself tightly, staving off his orgasm. He didn't want to cum yet. Not this quickly.

"I-I'm sorry, it just felt too... too good—"

Y/N gently stroked his trembling thighs, pressing a kiss beneath his belly button before rising to her feet. She shushed his stammered apologies with a kiss on his forehead, caressing his face as he caught his breath. His face was flushed, both from embarrassment and arousal, and the sight was more endearing than it should have been.

"You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. Absolutely nothing," she whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before turning to crawl onto her bed. “Get up here, baby,” she crooned as she laid back against her pillows, patting the spot beside her.

Spencer almost tripped over his pants in his haste to follow after her, kicking the fabric away before he kneeled onto the mattress, smiling meekly at Y/N as she watched in amusement. "I w-want—" Spencer paused as he watched her lean forward so she could unclasp her bra, completely enraptured. "I want to taste you. Please?"

Desire coursed through her at his words, searing through her veins as she met his gaze. She loved how pretty the word please sounded falling from his kiss-swollen lips. She slipped free from her bra, tossing it to the ground before answering his pleading.

"Go ahead, baby. Take whatever you want—I want you to have it all."

Spencer swallowed hard at that, a small grin playing on his lips as he moved forward to settle between her spread legs. He kneeled between them, taking off his glasses and setting them on her nightstand before lowering himself to hover over her. He bumped his nose against hers, his grin widening as he moved to tentatively kiss along the side of her neck.

Y/N moaned at the feeling, tangling her fingers into his tousled strands. He continued, trailing his kisses down the slope of her shoulder before pausing to suck a small mark into her skin, relishing in the soft noises falling from her lips. Once he was satisfied with his mark, he brought his lips down to mouth along her breast, laving his tongue over the taut bud of her nipple.

"Spence—" she whimpered as he closed his lips around the hardened peak, suckling with a low groan that rumbled against her skin. She tugged at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. "Feels so good, sweetheart."

Spencer hummed, pulling off her breast after a moment and switching to the other to give it the same treatment. Y/N whined, arching into his touch as he began to move down her body. What he may have lacked in physical experience, he more than compensated for with knowledge.

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't a prude. He'd read plenty of erotic novels, as well as countless books all centered around the female anatomy and how to inflict the most pleasure so that he could at least pretend to feel prepared for his first time. It seemed to be paying off, though, if the noises she made were any indication of how he was doing.

Spencer's hands came up to rest on her hips as he settled on his stomach between her thighs, hissing softly when his erection pressed into the mattress. His eyes met hers, and the clouded look in her eyes was all the encouragement he needed.

"God, you're soaked," he whispered in astonishment as his finger traced the damp spot in the front of her panties, causing a breathy chuckle to slip from her lips.

"How could I not be?"

Spencer blushed, leaning down to kiss her inner thigh before pulling the fabric down her legs. His breath hitched at the sight of her glistening pussy, fully on display for him without the barrier of their windows in his way. Any coherent thought that was swirling around in his head vanished, replaced with an urgent need to taste her. He moved without thinking as he latched his mouth onto her eagerly, groaning against her slick skin as he began to lap at her hungrily.

"Fuck! Spencer—" Y/N cried out, her grip on his hair tightening at the unexpected pleasure. Her head tipped back against her pillows as her hips writhed under his ministrations, rolling against his mouth as he devoured her.

There was little to no technique— just pure, unbridled enthusiasm. But it felt so good that she didn't care. He alternated between sucking at her clit and thrusting his tongue into her, needy moans slipping from his lips the entire time he did.

"Fingers, baby—" she gasped, biting her lower lip harshly to stifle a loud moan. "Use your fingers, too."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He pulled away from her, licking the taste of her from his lips as he brought two fingers up to her entrance. He focused his gaze on her face as he pushed them inside of her, his mouth hanging open and soft breaths panting against her skin as he began to thrust them.

"Like this?"

His tone wasn't cocky or arrogant. It was curious, like he was genuinely invested in finding out what felt the best for her. She nodded, a choked moan slipping from her lips as he grazed against that rough patch of nerves inside of her that had her hips thrashing.

Spencer watched in fascination for a moment before bringing his head back down, his eyes fluttering shut as he began to trace her clit with his tongue. His hips rocked instinctively against the bed, grinding against it in a desperate attempt to find some relief for his aching cock as he brought her closer and closer to her climax.

"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, her hands falling from his hair to grip the sheets as she clenched around his fingers. "I-I'm cumming—"

Spencer groaned against her, doubling his efforts so he could watch her fall apart on his fingers. With a soft cry, Y/N came hard, her eyes squeezing shut as she trembled underneath him. He continued his movements, pumping his fingers into her gently until she was whining and wriggling away from his touch.

Spencer watched her in awe, kneading her thighs and hips to help her come down from her high.

"C'mere," she panted after a few minutes, finally opening her eyes to look up at him as he moved to hover above her.

A proud grin made its way to Spencer's face as he obeyed, resting on his forearms as he looked down at her. The hazy look in her eyes made his heart race, knowing that he was the cause of it doing more for his ego than he cared to admit. She returned his grin, leaning up to kiss him softly and tasting herself on his tongue.

"You did so good, sweetheart. Such a good boy for me," she mumbled against his lips.

She broke the kiss to press on his shoulders, rolling them over so she straddled him once more. A lazy smirk adorned her lips as he looked up at her, his pupils so dilated that the soft brown of his eyes was indiscernible. She began to rock her hips against his aching cock, a sigh slipping from her lips as her folds dragged over him.

Spencer moaned lowly at the friction, bringing his hands up to palm at her ass as she continued her movements. His fingers dug into her flesh as she spoke, but he didn't hear a single word she said as he kept his gaze locked on where her pussy was gliding along his length.

"Hey," Y/N cooed, patting his cheek gently to guide his eyes back to hers. "Eyes on me, sweetheart."

Spencer whined, his hips bucking underneath hers in an attempt to bring back the delicious friction that had been taken away when she lifted her hips. "I-I'm sorry. I wasn't listening," Spencer mumbled sheepishly, his face flushed as he held her gaze.

Y/N chuckled, tutting in mock disappointment as she gripped his chin. "I know you weren't," she muttered with an arched brow before continuing. "I was asking if you wanted to use a condom or not. I'm clean and—"

"No condom!"

Y/N jumped, startled. The urgency in his voice sent a wave of warmth through her as she eyed him in amusement, enjoying the bashful look that immediately appeared on his face after his exclamation. Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to regain some of his dignity.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to borderline shout that," Spencer said softly, his voice cracking slightly. "I just— I want to feel you, please. Without a condom in the way, preferably."

The grin that spread across her face could only be described as salacious as she nodded, cradling his face before leaning in for a tender kiss.

"No condom it is, then."

Y/N shifted up onto her knees, reaching between them to align him with her entrance before pausing when he spoke up.

"I— um... C-can I be on top of you instead?" he whispered, looking up at her with nervous eyes.

Her gaze softened at the sight, and she nodded immediately. "Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want, remember?" She murmured with a fond smile, rolling off of him to lay back against the pillows.

Spencer thanked her quietly, moving to hover above her once more. His body trembled as he propped up on one arm, reaching down to line himself up with her once more. She cradled his face, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone reassuringly. He took a deep breath to steady himself before pushing forward, sinking into her.

The feeling of her tight walls wrapping around him had him keening while she moaned just as loudly in return, dropping his head into the crook of her neck as he sucked in desperate, shaky breaths. He'd never experienced pleasure so overwhelming before. He was honestly convinced he'd died right there in her arms, pressing sloppy kisses to her skin just to prove to himself that he was, in fact, still alive.

"God— feels so good," he began to babble, moaning softly as he pulled his hips back slightly before thrusting forward again. "So tight... so wet— fuck!"

Y/N dug her nails into his shoulders, whimpering as he thrusted into her again, this time a little harder. "That's it, Spence," she panted, encouraging him to begin really moving. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking deep."

Spencer's hips jerked at that, his head dropping back into the crook of her neck as he began to drive into her in short, jagged thrusts. Moans slipped freely from his lips, mingling with hers as their bodies moved in tandem.

It didn't take long before the familiar tightening in his stomach came back, but he was too lost in the pleasure to stop. The feeling of Y/N around him was addictive. He seeked solace in her walls, rutting into her like a man possessed now as he sang her his praises against her skin. His hips stuttered as he lifted his head up, crashing his lips onto hers in a messy kiss as his hips pounded against hers even harder.

"Gonna— cum, fuck, I'm cumming—"

Spencer cried out against her lips, burying himself as deep inside of her as he could before filling her with rope after rope of his release. A pitiful noise fell from his lips as he broke the kiss, his eyes wide as he gawked down at her. His hips stopped moving, but before he could speak, Y/N was looping her arms around his neck and pulling him down.

“Did I say you could stop fucking me, Spencer?” Y/N’s voice was taunting in his ear, her nails digging into his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him in place.

Spencer’s brows pinched together as confusion washed over him, and his arms trembled as he struggled to remain hovering above her. His cock twitched inside of her as she canted her hips up, causing him to hiss softly from the overstimulation. His lower lip wobbled as he stared at her with a half-dazed, half-pleading look.

"W-what?"

“You greedy boy,” Y/N purred as she rolled her hips again. She smirked at the whimper he let out before tilting her head to skim her lips across his. “Don’t you want to feel me cum on your cock? Hm?”

Spencer shuddered at her words, chasing helplessly after her lips. He whined petulantly when she tilted her head, keeping him from succeeding in getting his kiss.

“I do,” Spencer whimpered, nodding fervently. “I wanna feel it so bad,” he groaned, his words beginning to slur from the pleasure coursing through him from head to toe.

“Then keep fucking me, sweetheart.”

A determined look crossed over his face, his brows knitting together as he shifted up onto his knees and pulled her hips up before thrusting forward. The change in angles had her crying out as he brushed against her sweet spot, and he grunted as he began to rock into her slowly, pushing past the sweet sting of overstimulation. He tightened his grip on her hip with one hand while his other moved to where they were connected, rubbing small, sloppy circles against her clit as he began moving with a purpose.

“Mm—“ Y/N groaned out, her eyes threatening to close as she struggled to keep them focused on his face. “Just like that, Spence. Ah—!“

The sound of his hips snapping against hers paired with the slick, crude sound of him fucking his cum back into her had his head lolling back, a guttural moan rumbling in his throat.

His hips were relentless, chasing her pleasure more so than his own now. It was messy and borderline feral—their mixed arousal coated his pelvis and her thighs and one of the corners of the sheets had come up from Y/N yanking at them. But neither of them could find it in themselves to care.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” Spencer begged, shifting her legs up onto his shoulders and clinging to her thighs as he drove into her. “Please—wanna feel you cum on my cock… I need it—“

The sound of his pleading hurled her over the edge. Y/N’s nails nearly tore through the sheets as her eyes squeezed shut, cry after cry of his name falling from her open mouth as she came around him. Her body trembled from the force of her orgasm, her walls clenching so tightly around him that it triggered his second climax unexpectedly.

“Oh my God— oh— fuck!” Spencer wailed, devolving into a series of whimpers as he spilled everything he had into her.

After a moment of ragged breathing, he turned to press a kiss to her ankle before easing her limp legs off of his shoulders and to the bed. Y/N stroked his hair with shaky hands as he crumpled over on top of her, their bodies warm and damp with sweat. Their chests were heaving as they struggled to catch their breath, with Y/N whispering into his hair how good he did and how perfect he’d made her feel.

They stayed curled up for a while, but eventually, the stickiness became too much to ignore. They both stumbled into her bathroom—both for a quick shower and for Y/N to pee to avoid a UTI. After changing the sheets, they returned to her bed, and Y/N turned away to switch off the lamp, leaving them wrapped in the peaceful darkness.

“Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?” Spencer asked, a shy grin on his face as she turned back to him, snuggling into his embrace as he pulled her closer.

Y/N huffed out a soft, sleepy laugh, nodding against him. “If you want me to be, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion as her eyelids fluttered shut.

“Of course I want you to,” Spencer replied, his words followed by a small yawn as sleep started to take hold of him too.

“Looks like it’s official then. I’m your girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend. Now, get some rest, my sweet boy.”

It wasn’t until the following evening, after a full day spent with Y/N on their first official date—a trip to the museum and lunch at his favorite restaurant—that he noticed something tucked into his pocket. A giddy grin spread across Spencer’s face as he unfolded the lacy pink panties, a small note tucked inside that read: For you to take on your next case. ;) xoxo - Y/N.

Spencer glanced down at the fabric in his hands, a soft chuckle escaping him as he silently thanked whatever force had made her the one to fill the vacant apartment across from his.

Continued A/N’s and tag list!! <3: Big big thank you to everyone that enjoyed part one and came back to read part two :’) And thank you to everyone that wanted to be tagged!! If you guys would like for me to start doing an official tag list, please let me know :’) <3 @halfbloodwriter , @opheliahotchner , @mothgrrrl666 , @silver138, @elliet1ou

REMINDER: I do not give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please just ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 22 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇warnings: Telemachus is VERY freaky in this chapter, no direct nsfw but like there’s a lot of suggestive comments.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Telemachus leaned over the edge of the ship, gazing out at the endless horizon with a wistful sigh. The salty breeze tousled his hair, but it couldn’t distract him from the ache in his chest. “I just can’t stop thinking about her,” he said, his voice drenched in longing.

Acrisios, who was adjusting the sails nearby, rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of his head. “You’ve been thinking about her since we left Ithaca. Gods above, Telemachus, give it a rest.”

Telemachus turned to his friend, clutching the railing dramatically. “But you don’t understand, Acrisios! She’s… she’s everything. Her smile, her wit, the way she gets all flustered when she’s trying to argue with me—it’s like I can still hear her voice in the wind.”

Acrisios groaned and ran a hand down his face. “No, Telemachus. That’s just the wind. Or maybe the sound of the crew wishing you’d stop talking. Or if we’re lucky enough it’s the sound of Poseidon approaching and killing us all so we don’t have to hear this.”

Telemachus ignored the jab, pressing his hand to his chest as if it might ease the ache. “Do you think she misses me? Or do you think she’s furious that I left without telling her sooner? Oh, gods, what if she’s already forgotten about me?”

Acrisios threw down the rope he was tying, finally fed up. “Telemachus, she hasn’t forgotten about you. How could she, with how obsessed you are? I bet she’s just trying to enjoy some peace and quiet now that you’re not there to constantly harass her.”

Telemachus frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Acrisios shot back, crossing his arms. “Look, I get it. She’s amazing, she’s perfect, you’re in love, blah blah blah. But if you don’t stop yapping about her, I swear I’ll jump overboard and swim to Pylos myself to get away from you.”

Telemachus narrowed his eyes. “You’re just jealous you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home.”

Acrisios barked a laugh. “Jealous? No, I’m grateful. I don’t have to pine like some lovesick poet while there’s actual work to be done.”

Telemachus sighed again, turning back to the sea. “You’ll never understand what we have. She’s my other half, my reason to keep going.”

Acrisios shook his head and muttered under his breath, “I’m about to make her my reason to push you overboard.”

“What was that?” Telemachus asked, not looking back.

“Nothing,” Acrisios replied with a smirk, grabbing the rope again. “Now get your lovesick self together before the crew throws you over for real.”

Telemachus grumbled but stayed quiet, though he couldn’t help but trace the outline of Y/N’s face in the clouds above. Telemachus paced the deck, gesturing wildly as he rambled. “And then there’s the way she wrinkles her nose when she’s annoyed, like she’s trying so hard not to smile, but you can tell she wants to. It’s adorable, Acrisios. Adorable! Don’t you think so?”

Acrisios sat on a barrel, his head in his hands. “I don’t even remember what she looks like, Telemachus. I couldn’t tell you if she’s adorable or a Gorgon in disguise. And at this point, I don’t care!”

“But her hair—” Telemachus began, his voice dreamy.

“Enough!” Acrisios shot to his feet, his patience finally snapping. “I swear by the gods, Telemachus, if you say one more word about Pandora, I’m throwing you overboard myself!”

Telemachus blinked, taken aback. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” Acrisios growled, storming toward him.

Before Telemachus could respond, Acrisios grabbed him by the shoulders and began dragging him toward the edge of the ship. “You’re going to learn to shut up, one way or another!”

“Wait, wait, wait! Acrisios, this isn’t funny!” Telemachus yelped, flailing as Acrisios pushed him closer to the railing.

“Neither is listening to you talk about her every single second of this cursed voyage!” Acrisios barked, giving Telemachus a little shove that made him teeter precariously over the edge.

A group of crew members rushed over, alarmed by the commotion. One of them, a burly sailor named Dorios, grabbed Acrisios by the arm. “Hey! Calm down, Acrisios! You can’t just toss Odysseus’s son into the sea!”

“He’s not acting like Odysseus’s son—he’s acting like a lovesick fool!” Acrisios retorted, though he let Dorios pull him back a step.

Another sailor, Andros, held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, alright, everyone breathe. Telemachus, maybe tone it down with the gushing. Acrisios, put him down before you get yourself thrown overboard.”

Telemachus, still dangling half over the railing, scowled. “I wasn’t gushing!”

“Yes, you were!” the entire crew shouted in unison.

Dorios hauled Telemachus back onto the deck, shaking his head. “Gods save us, this is going to be a long voyage.”

Acrisios pointed a finger at Telemachus, his face red with frustration. “One more word about her, Telemachus. Just one. I dare you.”

Telemachus straightened his tunic, glaring at Acrisios. But after a moment of silence, he mumbled, “Her eyes really are perfect, though…”

Acrisios lunged, but Dorios and Andros grabbed him just in time, dragging him away as he shouted threats.

Telemachus sighed, brushing himself off. “You’d think they’d understand. True love is a gift, not a curse.” The crew groaned in unison, and Acrisios’s muffled yelling could still be heard from the other side of the ship.

——

The gentle sway of the ship rocked the cabin as Telemachus and Acrisios shared a small bunk, the tight quarters forcing them to sleep back-to-back. Acrisios was already irritated at having to share a bed with Telemachus, but exhaustion from the day’s work had him drifting off regardless. That is, until Telemachus stirred in his sleep and mumbled, “Y/N…”

Acrisios’s eye twitched, but he ignored it. Moments later, Telemachus turned over, flinging an arm around Acrisios and muttering again, “Y/N… my sweet…”

Acrisios groaned, his patience hanging by a thread. “This cannot be happening.”

But Telemachus snuggled closer, his grip tightening as he whispered, “Y/N… your hair… your eyes…” That was it. Acrisios sat up abruptly, shoving Telemachus off him and onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Get off me, you lovesick idiot!” Acrisios snapped, glaring down at Telemachus, who was groaning on the floor and rubbing his head.

“What was that for?” Telemachus protested, sitting up.

“For this!” Acrisios gestured wildly. “Even in your sleep, you’re obsessed with her! Do you know how disturbing it is to wake up to you clinging to me like I’m your precious Y/!?”

Telemachus blinked, his face turning red. “I-I wasn’t clinging to you!”

“Oh, yes, you were,” Acrisios shot back, crossing his arms. “Muttering her name like I’m some stand in for your little lovebird.”

Telemachus scrambled to his feet, his embarrassment quickly turning to indignation. “It’s not my fault! I can’t control what I do in my sleep!”

“Well, control yourself now!” Acrisios snapped, jabbing a finger at him. “Find another bunk, or I’m throwing you overboard—again!”

“There’s nowhere else to sleep, Acrisios!” Telemachus retorted, throwing up his hands. “And if you’d just let me dream about Y/N in peace—”

“In peace?!” Acrisios interrupted, his voice rising. “You were practically whispering sweet nothings into my ear!”

Telemachus huffed. “You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re being unbearable!” Acrisios growled, throwing himself back onto the bunk and turning his back to Telemachus. “One more peep about Y/N—even in your dreams—and I swear I’m sleeping on the deck next time.”

“Fine,” Telemachus muttered, climbing back into the bunk. But after a moment of silence, he mumbled under his breath, “She really does have the softest hands, though…”

Acrisios groaned, grabbing his pillow and smashing it over his head to block out the sound. “I can’t take this anymore.”

——

The morning sun painted the ship’s deck in gold as the crew bustled about their duties. Acrisios leaned lazily against the mast, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips as Telemachus passed by.

“So, Telemachus,” Acrisios began, loud enough for the other crew members to hear, “I’ve been thinking. Y/N might be better off with a real man, you know? Someone who isn’t always whining about her like a lost puppy.”

Telemachus stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, come on,” Acrisios said with a shrug, his tone dripping with mockery. “I’m just saying, she’d probably appreciate someone with a bit more… experience. Someone who can handle himself without tripping over his own feet every time she bats her eyes.”

A few of the crew chuckled, but Telemachus didn’t join in. Instead, his jaw clenched, and his fists balled at his sides. “Acrisios, you’re walking on thin ice.”

Ignoring the warning, Acrisios pressed on, clearly enjoying himself. “I bet if I showed up with flowers and actual charm, she’d forget all about you in a heartbeat. She deserves a man who can sweep her off her feet, not some boy who spends half the time whining about how much he misses her.” The other crew members exchanged wary glances as Telemachus’s face darkened.

“Shut your mouth,” Telemachus said, his voice low but filled with warning.

Acrisios smirked, leaning closer. “Or what? Are you going to cry? Maybe I’ll send her a message when we get to Sparta—let her know she has better options.”

That was the final straw. Telemachus surged forward, grabbing Acrisios by the collar and shoving him back against the mast. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that again,” he snarled, his face inches from Acrisios’s.

Acrisios’s smirk faltered as he saw the fury in Telemachus’s eyes. “Whoa, whoa, it was a joke!” he said, holding up his hands defensively.

“It wasn’t funny,” Telemachus snapped, his grip tightening. “You can tease me all you want, but leave Y/N out of it. Understand?”

“Alright, alright!” Acrisios said quickly, trying to pry Telemachus’s hands off his collar. “Relax, lover boy!” Telemachus released him with a shove, glaring as Acrisios straightened his tunic and muttered under his breath.

The rest of the crew stayed silent, pretending to focus on their tasks as Telemachus stormed off. Acrisios watched him go, rubbing his neck. “Man, he really is whipped,” he muttered, earning a few nervous chuckles from the crew. “He must get that pussy on a daily for him to be this desperate.”

But none of them dared say it loud enough for Telemachus to hear.

——

The sea breeze was calm that afternoon, but the deck of the ship was anything but. Telemachus leaned on a barrel, staring wistfully at the horizon while Acrisios attempted—unsuccessfully—to ignore him, fiddling with a loose rope knot.

“And then, right before I sailed, she hugged me,” Telemachus sighed for the hundredth time. “I can still feel it. It wasn’t just a hug, Acrisios. It was the hug. Like a promise, you know? A silent promise.”

Acrisios groaned, pulling tighter on the knot. “If I hear the word ‘Y/N’ one more time, I’m going to jump overboard.”

“But you get it, right?” Telemachus turned to him, his eyes shining. “The way she looks at me, the way her voice sounds when she says my name—”

“Telemachus,” Acrisios cut him off sharply, glaring. “I will physically throw you overboard myself and make sure no one will hear you this time.”

“Wow, someone’s cranky,” Telemachus teased, smirking. “Maybe you just need a girl of your own to obsess over.”

“I don’t obsess,” Acrisios muttered, turning his back to Telemachus.

“You totally do,” Telemachus shot back. “I bet there’s someone waiting for you back in Ithaca, huh? Some girl who’s just dying to see you again?”

“Nope,” Acrisios said quickly, too quickly.

Telemachus’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You hesitated. You hesitated! Acrisios, you do have someone!”

“I don’t,” Acrisios said firmly, his face starting to turn red.

“You so do!” Telemachus practically leaped to his feet, pointing at him accusingly. “Tell me! Who is she? Is it someone from the palace? Someone from town? Is she—”

“It’s no one,” Acrisios snapped, pulling the knot so tight the rope frayed.

“Come on, Acrisios,” Telemachus pressed, his grin widening. “You can’t hide it from me. I’m great with secrets! Is she—”

“It’s Lethea, alright!?” Acrisios blurted, then immediately froze, realizing what he’d just said.

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“LETHEA?!” Telemachus squealed, his voice practically cracking. “Your father’s friend’s daughter?!”

“Shut up,” Acrisios muttered, his face now beet red.

“But she’s gorgeous!” Telemachus exclaimed, his hands flailing dramatically. “And sweet! And—oh my gods, does she know?!”

“No, and she’s not going to,” Acrisios grumbled, glaring at Telemachus.

“But you have to tell her!” Telemachus insisted, bouncing on his heels. “She’s amazing! And you’re—you’re….Acrisios…I guess? She’d totally fall for you anyway.”

“I said shut up,” Acrisios growled, his glare darkening.

Telemachus, of course, ignored him entirely, already lost in his matchmaking fantasies. “You could totally win her over. You just need a plan. Oh, I could help you write a love letter! Or no, wait—”

“If you say one more word,” Acrisios interrupted, grabbing the rope and holding it threateningly, “I will tie you up and leave you at the next port.”

“Alright, alright,” Telemachus said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. But the mischievous sparkle in his eyes betrayed him. “Still, Lethea, huh? I never would’ve guessed…”

Acrisios groaned, burying his face in his hands. He knew he’d never hear the end of this.

——

The ship rocked gently against the waves, the creak of wood and the occasional splash of water the only sounds filling the cabin. Acrisios lay sprawled on the bed, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Beside him, Telemachus shifted for the third time in as many minutes, clearly restless.

Acrisios sighed, turning his head slightly to glance at his friend. “Alright, out with it. What’s wrong this time?”

Telemachus hesitated, staring up at the dark ceiling. He fidgeted with a loose thread on his tunic before finally mumbling, “It’s nothing.”

Acrisios raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ve been squirming like a fish caught in a net for the past hour. Doesn’t seem like ‘nothing’ to me.”

Telemachus groaned, covering his face with his hands. “It’s stupid.”

“Most things you worry about are,” Acrisios quipped, smirking. “Come on, just say it.”

There was a long pause before Telemachus finally blurted out, “I’m not ready to meet Y/N again!”

Acrisios blinked. “What?”

Telemachus groaned again, turning to face Acrisios, his expression a mix of panic and embarrassment. “I mean—what if she expects… things from me? What if I disappoint her? I don’t—I don’t know how to… properly sleep with a woman!”

Acrisios stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Are you serious? That’s what you’re worried about?”

Telemachus’s face turned bright red. “It’s not funny!” he hissed, shoving Acrisios’s shoulder.

“Actually, it’s hilarious,” Acrisios said between chuckles, wiping a tear from his eye. “Gods, Telemachus, you’ve got to stop overthinking everything.”

Telemachus sat up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m serious, Acrisios! What if she thinks I’m… inexperienced? What if I mess everything up? She’ll think I’m a joke.”

Acrisios rolled his eyes, sitting up as well. “First of all, I don’t think she cares about that. She’s probably more worried about you coming back in one piece than how ‘experienced’ you are in bed.”

“But—”

“Second,” Acrisios interrupted, placing a hand on Telemachus’s shoulder, “you’re putting way too much pressure on yourself. Women aren’t looking for perfection, alright? Just… be yourself. If you care about her, and you treat her right, that’s what matters.” Telemachus looked doubtful, but Acrisios gave him a reassuring smile.

“And third,” Acrisios added with a smirk, “if you’re that desperate for advice, I could always give you a few pointers.”

Telemachus’s eyes widened in horror. “No, gods, no! I don’t want to know what you do with women!”

Acrisios laughed, clapping him on the back. “Suit yourself, but don’t come crying to me if you’re awkward on your first night.”

Telemachus groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you keep me around,” Acrisios said with a grin, lying back down.

Despite his teasing, Acrisios’s words stuck with Telemachus, and as the ship swayed gently beneath them, he found himself feeling a little less anxious. Maybe Acrisios was right—maybe he just needed to stop overthinking.

——

The soft glow of dawn filtered through the cabin window as Acrisios stirred awake. He stretched lazily, rubbing his eyes, when an unusual rustling sound caught his attention. Blinking groggily, he propped himself up on one elbow and turned toward the source of the noise.

What he saw nearly made him fall off the bed.

There stood Telemachus, butt ass naked, clutching a pillow against his chest. His face was an intense mask of concentration as he awkwardly shifted his hips and muttered under his breath, seemingly practicing… something. Acrisios stared in stunned silence for a good ten seconds before bursting out into uncontrollable laughter. He clutched his stomach, doubling over on the bed as tears streamed down his face.

“Gods above!” Acrisios wheezed. “What in Hades are you doing, Telemachus?!”

Telemachus froze, his face turning a shade of red so deep it could rival the evening sun. He scrambled to cover himself with the pillow, spinning around to face Acrisios. “I—I wasn’t—It’s not what it looks like!”

Acrisios laughed even harder, practically choking on his breath as he pointed at Telemachus. “Not what it looks like? You’re naked, grinding on a pillow, and talking to it! What else could it possibly be?!”

Telemachus groaned, clutching the pillow tighter and burying his face in it. “I was practicing, alright?!”

That only made Acrisios laugh harder. He rolled onto his back, pounding the bed with his fist. “Practicing! Oh, this is priceless. You’re pathetic, you know that?”

Telemachus glared at him, his face still burning. “I didn’t ask for your opinion!”

Acrisios sat up, still grinning ear to ear. “Oh, I’m definitely telling Y/N about this when we get back to Ithaca. ‘Oh, hey, Y/N, did you know your dear Telemachus spends his mornings seducing pillows?’”

“Don’t you dare!” Telemachus yelled, his voice cracking in panic.

Acrisios leaned forward, smirking wickedly. “Oh, I will. She deserves to know the man she’s been pining over is a lunatic who thinks pillows are practice partners.”

Telemachus groaned, throwing the pillow at Acrisios’s face. “You’re insufferable!”

Acrisios caught the pillow with ease, still laughing. “And you’re pathetic. Don’t throw that at me! I don’t know where that pillow has been. Now, for the love of the gods, put some clothes on before the crew sees you like this. I don’t think I can explain this one to them without dying of laughter.”

Telemachus stomped over to his discarded clothes, muttering curses under his breath as Acrisios continued to snicker.

“Honestly, Telemachus,” Acrisios said, wiping a tear from his eye, “this trip is worth it just for moments like these.”

Telemachus glared at him but said nothing, his dignity in tatters. It would take a lot of convincing—and possibly a bribe—to make sure Acrisios kept this embarrassing moment to himself.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world

@simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[boysluts]

The way you write sanji with a reader who's in love with him but accepts their fate to not be loved by him like that- its AMAZING and keeps punching me in the heart, sooo for the request

Hurt/comfort love confession with sanji🙏 the reader is talking to another crewmate they trust, they talk about their feelings for sanji and how its tearing them apart. And Sanji overhears it all, maybe it reinforce his own wants with the reader

Okay, I'm so sorry this is SO beyond delayed,,

Heh... I hope this'll be okay, I feel my writing is a tad rusty nowadays, so excuse me!

This is not proofread..so I apologise immensely!

I hope this is actually somewhat enjoyable, I'm fuckin scrambling my brains out

I feel as if this is utterly messy and all over the place,, so please bear with me!

I feel it's rather slow-burn,, and considered just posting this and making a second part, but I might post it as one..not sure if that's better or worse

And I'm so sorry for how long this has taken, and how long it is taking..I promise you I'm trying my best mls 🙏

Okay I know I've said it but this is so rubbish I'm so sorry guys

Sanji calls you Cherie,, cutesy loving nickname, it's already pretty shit but the ending is..more..shit??? Read at your own risk 🙏

AUGHHH AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR HOW DELAYED THIS IS!! I HOPR ITS KINDA ENJOYABLE! MWAUH MWAUH THANK YOU <3

_ _

You and the crew just finished breakfast,,

God it is always such a delight eating meals prepared by your Angel of a cook, anything he makes quite literally tastes like heaven itself.

No matter what he makes, he always makes it taste so good, fuck, he looks so good.

Its a bit shameful how often you find yourself thinking of him, staring at him, stealing glances, you can't help it. He's perfect in your eyes.

Needless to say, you've for sure caught on to your own feelings, you were self aware you had somewhat of a schoolgirl crush on Sanji, and boy did you figure out crushing on a man that treats all women like deities would drain your soul.

It was easy to fall for the treatment and affection, but you liked him beyond that, you love him beyond that, you've been trying so hard to get to know him, and you feel you've made progress, progress in getting to know him, it lights up your world knowing things about him no women, or man would've cared to know or really ask about...

But of course, seeing him flirt with others has taken its toll, of course you know he means well, and nothing much by it, and fuck. Why are you so jealous??? It's not like he's your man, he can do whatever pleases him.

But it sucks, your heart yearns for him, it yearns for him so bad, you hate how such an angelic man has the key to your heart, but doesn't seem to care. Now, unfortunately the crew has noticed your mood has been..quite down

It wasn't much of a surprise they'd noticed though, you were quite literally a ball of fucking sunshine, you matched or..tried to match everyone's energy, but to you, it was quite startling when you were sitting alone on deck, and robin approached you..or rather seemed to have appeared next to you

You didn't notice her presence, for awhile actually, until she cleared her throat, this startled you slightly, and you broke your staring at Sanji being scolded by Nami for doing whatever he was..

"Ahh..! Robin..hi- I didn't see you there" you say, politely, and flashing her a quick smile

She's silent for awhile.

.

.

.

"You don't have to do that, we can tell something is on your mind" she offers, sharing a neutral expression, you nod and sigh "Robin.." You start and you feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to continue "this is so stupid, God. I." You falter and hold your knees up to your chest Robin places a hand on your shoulder and offers a small smile

"It's not stupid, you can talk about it, if you'd like. No pressure, but I hope you know I'm willing to lend my ears anytime" and you silently thank her

She smiles

"Would..would you consider me stupid, for well.." You take a deep breath "I really like him." "Robin- I really, I really like him. I think. I think I love him."

She isn't surprised, she's seen how at a time your mood really depended on how Sanji was that day, how much you spoke, if it was negative or positive, she had quite an insight.

She sighs, and smiles "I know." You look up at her, through teary eyes "but it hurts, because I know this is the same treatment you and nami get too." Untrue she thinks to herself, she's seen in ways Sanji treats you differently than her and Nami..though, she supposes she sees your perspective.

"I know he treats all women equally, but It hurts, i- I know this is selfish, but is it..really that much to ask for him to truly consider something..with me?" Your frown somehow deepens, and you then go on about how hard it is to not just grab his face, kiss him, which..kinda gave her the ick, but she respectfully listens, regardless..

It seems as if you've spent hours venting about how this is weighing you down, how such a stupid thing as a crush is really anchoring and crushing your soul, and as Robin anticipated the waterworks had started, she can't think of words that would be much helpful to your case, so she just tries her hardest to provide physical comfort.

And in the time you'd been spilling your heart out about the stupid love-cook, Robin was aware he was actually listening, she'd noticed him listening, she' noticed him.

And she was sure his ears were burning red.

So when she looked to her side and saw him with a solemn expression but face somehow flushed, she just slightly nodded to him and herself.

She looks over at you, still sulking "it'll be okay, I'm sure you'll figure it out." She says, her tone hinting the obvious, the obvious you were oblivious to.

.

.

.

After awhile of sitting with Robin in pure silence, she speaks up "it's getting late, let's wash up and get some rest, I think you absolutely need some." The same smile still plastered on her face, you sigh, "Ahh right.."

She gets up dusting herself off, and before she walks away you stop her "Robin" and she looks back at you, tilting her head "Thank you, for all of this, thank you for everything" you smile at her, and she smiles back "Always, y/n, you're always welcomed, this is definitely the least I could do for you" you nod, following her, just until you part ways. She shares a room with Nami and you're fortunate enough to have your own room.

You got to your room, rummaging for your nightwear and undergarments, thinking to just wash off quickly and have a proper shower when you wake up. A couple of knocks pause your rummaging

You think it's Nami, probably asking if she could borrow your snowglobe, you know she wants to break it to get the cat out of it, nit thinking it could anyone but her you open the door eyes shut, finger already accusingly pointing "No Nami, You cannot break the snow globe to get the kitty from inside it" you say, letting out a small huff

Instead of the huff and sigh you thought you'd hear, you heard a chuckle instead, ...that doesn't sound like Nami you say to yourself,, you open your eyes to find no one other than Sanji standing right outside your door, a little Embarrassed, you smile awkwardly, and apologise.

"Its alright cherie" Cherie.. he's only called you Cherie a few times, and your not used to it at all, but still, you can't help the smile that spreads or perhaps the slight redness on your face either "is now a bad time?" He asks, smiling at you, confused you look on your bed remembering what you were just about to do, you smile at him "ahh, no no not at all, do you need something?" He looks nervous you think..

"Come with me, Cherie, let's talk over a drink if you don't mind" he says, all smiley, you smile too following close behind. You reach the kitchen and he ushers you to have a seat, while he brings out soda from the fridge. He sits in a way the two of you are looking at each other, he opens your Soda and you thank him with a smile, "So, what's up? What can I help you with, Sanji?" God, you're so fucking cute. He thinks to himself

He takes a breath, before sipping his drink, looking at you to find that your eyes are already all over him, leaving red to flush across his features..not that you could make out in the dim light. "Cherie i like you too." He says, but it comes out as a whisper, as if its a secret so sacred he has no choice but to protect it with his life, you stare at him, in shock, in awe, disbelief even, are you hearing this right?? Are you..Are you dreaming?

He notices your shock and chuckles, " 'm so sorry I wasn't aware that i hadn't made it as obvious as I thought I had.." he says, sounding a little nervous. He's looking at you as if your his whole word. "I- I know it was invasive, but I overheard the whole thing with Robin. I'm sorry, for being so slow, being so oblivious to your feelings," he says again, rubbing the back of his neck. You wanna lunge onto him and kiss him and ask him if he's being serious.

But you're still in awe. He'd been courting you as you'd been him? He Likes you too?

"Well, Sanji. I'm glad it's you"

He reaches for your hand, comfortingly rubbing it. And you just beam at him, he swears he feels his heartbeat 100x faster now, but he smiles back, a little unsure what to take from the ever growing silence. So then you speak "i'm- I'm sorry, I'm just shocked, I had never expected my feelings to be reciprocated, by You nonetheless" God, you can't help but look at him lovingly, like he hung the very stars in the sky.

And then you start, again.

"It'll always be you." You mutter, a little nervously

So, he speaks.

"And I'm glad it's you too, Cherie."

He's glad definitely.

And you can't help the smile you can only imagine gracing your lips. With nervous hands you cup his face and look deep into his eyes, your smile never faltering once. With shaky hands he cups your face too, he's so cute you think. Blush suits him, maybe only when it's you making him blush like this. Such a genuine smile, and you're the cause.

"Cherie" ... he pulls you out of your thoughts and you look at him, can't help but bat your eyelashes at him. You smile.

"Can.. can, i kiss you?" He asks, so Sacred, you had to make sure you were hearing right. But you nod anyway, "Cherie, let me hear you. Please."

You flush, and take in a shaky breath, "of course, you can" and before you know it he's pulled you closer to him, but he so very delicately kisses you, it would've fooled you. A man with no experience? He's quite the kisser.. you've seemed to have pulled his face closer, and you just look at him, he's becoming fidgety,

could you really blame him? He just kissed you. And once the nerves settles he pulls you into him, and you hold him too.

He chuckles nervously, "don't regret me, okay, Cherie?" And you kiss his shoulder, a silent response, but you hope he understands.

You can finally take the time and wrack your brain, make sense of what you two are, that your crewmate dynamic is now changed, you're now what you've wanted to be for a long time, his lover. And he is yours, too.

[ghostgirl-22]

i like the idea of patrick giving art hickeys. art lies to the other guys on the team, says they’re from various girls but everyone knows the truth. maybe patrick even tells them when art isn’t around

I like that idea too actually, thank you for sharing anon<33

(Whoa im not even gonna edit this…good luck everyone!)

CW: 18+ !NSFW! The S/m part of bdsm, if you squint

—-

Art bruises easily. It really shouldn’t be something that turns Patrick on…but it is. He bruises so, so easy. Every time Patrick thinks about it, his dick gets a little hard. Fingerprints on his waist, bite marks his shoulders, hickeys on his throat. He’s not sure if Art really believes him anymore when Patrick says he’s not doing it on purpose.

God.

It’s so fucked up but he barely has to do anything, barely has to bite, barely has to squeeze and little pink-purple marks bloom vividly everywhere. The bruises don’t even stick around, they’re fading almost as easy as they come. Turning pale pink as the blood beneath them disappates before they turn white and disappear. But when they’re there, when they’re fresh, it’s so fucking delicious.

Especially because Art is so goody goody, so strait laced, so careful and controlled and put together. Patrick kinda loves just unraveling him. Sex so good that it makes him forget how to behave himself. Forget they’re doing it in public, forget his grandma is down the hall, forget all decorum. Mostly he forgets to make Patrick stop sucking visible evidence that he’s not a perfect angel into his skin.

Sometimes it’s so obvious… like the other day in class when their English professor noticed “fun night last night?” And then his ex girlfriend noticed. She scrunched her nose up irritated. Patrick can’t help it, he was giddy watching Art try to hide it the rest of the day. Skin all flushed, anxious that everyone was aware of what he’s been up to.

He gets so anxious for it, tells Patrick he’ll mark him back if he doesn’t stop. Patrick promises he will. But it’s not his fault…Art is just so fragile. Especially when he’s… pressed up against the wall taking Patrick’s cock because he couldn’t wait for the bed. Or when he’s on his knees in the back of the movie theater swallowing as much as he can while Patrick’s running his popcornbutter covered fingers through golden blond curls. Patrick doesn’t even mean to mark him. Not really. He just kinda wants everyone to know that this is his.

Patrick’s favorite thing is when their teammates tease Art about it.

It’s one of the last nights of an away tournament and most of the varsity team has gathered in Everett Moore and Lindsay Jefferson's hotel room, because Lindsay happens to be number one singles player and team captain (and he also happens to come from the richest family on campus. One doesn’t necessarily have to do with the other but Patrick knows he’s technically a better player. Hell, Art might even be better but that’s neither here nor there). When they meet up, someone usually sneaks in alcohol or weed and they watch movies or play music, while shooting the shit and discussing previous and upcoming matches and opponents.

They’re all spread out across the room, on the floor, on the beds. The tv is on with the volume low, red solo cups all over the place and two bottles of rum and three two liters of Pepsi are on the dresser. Along with three nearly empty boxes of pizza and a stack of unused paper plates.

As a team they often pick on each other, it’s not just Art. But Patrick’s favorite is when the attention shifts to Art because he gets even more interesting than he already is.

“Donaldson, that one looks fresh?” It’s Scott Jefferson, Lindsay's little (by 10 months) brother, normally everyone blows him off because he’s the youngest on the team. But Lindsay is amused.

“It does look like a new one, who’s been kissing you?” He chimes in.

Art waves it off. “Uh it’s not that new… you just couldn’t see it under the um… my uniform.” He lies. Because it is new, brand, brand new. Patrick did it last night when Art crawled into his bed because the air conditioner wasn’t working and it was too hot. Then it got hotter. They had to take a cold shower after. Art was all pouty when he noticed it in the morning.

“This one is fading, time for a new one,” Alex Kim, who’s right next to Art on the floor, touches at what Patrick knows is a sensitive spot. Art squirms and shifts his shoulder up towards his ear. Alex bites down on a smile and scoots closer to him.

”I thought Shannon broke up with you,” Everett points out, from his spot next to Patrick on the bed.

“She did, I’m— I’m seeing another girl. She’s—“Art gestures vaguely. “She doesn’t go to MRTA.”

“Where does she go?” Someone else asks.

“Yeah who’s this mystery girl, she’s a bit of a freak isn’t she? Marking you up,” Patrick chimes in, grabbing another slice of pizza and then settling back on his spot on the bed.

Art glares at him and then rolls his eyes. “Piney Brook, the all girls school.” He says and he takes another drink.

“What’s her name? One of us might know her,” Alex asks. He’s trying to poke at the hickey and Art shrugs him away. Patrick knows Alex is one of a handful of their teammates who would fuck Art if he got the chance. And maybe it’s because Patrick’s jealous, maybe it’s because he’s a little possessive (he can’t stop leaving little marks all over Art after all) but he told Alex about it, Alex and his doubles partner and roommate, Corey. Corey who cant keep his big fucking mouth shut to save his life. So everyone already fucking knows. But they love to tease Art anyway. See if he’ll admit it.

“She’s- she’s new, I doubt any of you losers would know her,” Art continues to lie.

“Is she here now? Or did you cheat on her?” Callum Harrington pipes up. “Cause that definitely wasn’t there yesterday.”

“He’s a fucking cheat,” Alex teases and Corey snorts a laugh.

“I didn’t cheat,” Art’s cheeks are pinkening, god, Patrick can feel himself getting hard, he’s gonna give him another one. “What about you, Harrington? You had a big one a few weeks ago.” Art says, deflecting.

“When my girl does it, she lets me borrow her make up to hide it. But mostly it’s me sucking hickies on her neck,” Callum says.

“Please, look how pale he is, he probably gets kissed and then it’s turning red,” Everett points out.

“Or poked,” Alex teases, nudging him. Art hiccups, nudging him back playfully before he takes another drink, determinedly not looking in Patrick’s direction.

“You want another hickey, Donaldson? I could give you plenty.” The openly gay kid Jesse Newman asks.

That makes a couple of them laugh and Jesse smirks in Patrick’s direction.

“Guys, come on,” Art says, uncrossing his legs. “Can we talk about something else, I don’t want to um… she’s really private.”

“Private but she’s claimed you publicly,” Lindsay smirks.

“I just… I do bruise a lot. Wait um— you mean this right?” He touches the hickey. “I actually just slept bad that’s nothing.”

“Oh I bet you sleep bad a lot,” Jesse says.

“I do kinda,” Art says, shyly.

“Does he, Zweig?” Lindsay asks.

“Oh absolutely,” Patrick smirks and a few of the guys chuckle.

Art is clearly relieved when the topic shifts away from hickies to Jesse’s birthday party. He’s still flushed for the alcohol, drinks way too much and lets Alex massage a cramp in his calf. All while making these soft little relieved moaning sounds that no one else probably notices but are driving Patrick crazy. Sounds Alex will probably run home and masturbate to. And he wonders why Patrick needs to mark him. He probably thinks Patrick’s not paying attention because he’s talking a lot but he’s always paying attention to Art.

It’s when someone inevitably rents a porno off HBO and Lindsay and Everett get pissed because they’ll likely be in trouble with the coaches, is when the party ends. And Patrick’s guiding Art back to their room, Art is silly drunk and horny. Doesn’t even pretend to get in his own bed. Just climbs in with Patrick. And he sighs contentedly, his body all sticky wet with lube and come as Patrick licks and nibbles at his throat, a new one already blooming.

[nayaesworld]

My favorite Dork

Terry Richmond x Black!Fem reader

Part 2

__

__

“Who that right there?” Your crossed eyes tried hard to focus on his extended finger as it pointed towards the tv screen. Head filled with little to no thoughts or answers that could save you from his incessant pounding into your pussy. If he could just ease up a little then maybe just maybe you could gargle out a answer, fuck it it it was the wrong one..you didn’t care.

Your eyes finally steadied enough for you to focus on the tall,pale, blonde animated character. A few names filtering through your pretty little head as he slowed his strokes enough for your toes to uncross and you became confident in your answer…perhaps too confident.

“Trevor..that’s Trevor” you breathe out quickly, hoping to impress him with your listening skills.

“Aww Peaches baby.. really wanted you to be right and prove me wrong. Guess you weren’t listening as well as I thought you were.” A faux pout came across his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes made your stomach flip.

“You know what happens to sluts that don’t listen…the ones that don’t retain information they were told to?” His heavy hand smacked your cheek just enough for your heavy eyes to widen. Your face heating up from the contact and your rising arousal.

Your shaking hands grip his arms as you shake underneath him, body preparing to release a violent gush of water onto him. You craved to be manhandled and flung about his spacious bed like a lifeless sex doll. To hell with anime…animation..animators. Fuck em all.

“Ouuu Peaches I felt that, give it to me. Because when you do we’re starting from the beginning..can’t have my baby out here not knowing her material, by the time I’m done with your sexy ass you’ll be speaking fluent Japanese.” Pillow soft thighs squeezed tight around his midsection and your pussy came like a geyser, pent up energy in the form of his favorite liquid.

“Bubby please.. I’m sorry I’ll be better just please..my pussy can’t take it.”

“You sure..looks like she can take it to me. Deep pussy swallowing up my dick just fine. My sweet peaches and her sweet pussy.” He pecked your forehead, quickly rubbing the back of your thighs.

“On your knees..I don’t want you to miss one second since you can’t seem to remember the names of characters I’ve been repeating for the last 40 minutes.”

Your sore limbs slowly but surely allowed your body to be molded into the newest position, your soft belly and breast resting on the cool sheets beneath you with your ass tooted up as high as he could get it. Playful slaps to your ass had you swallowing your spit. You wanted—needed that Sephora trip and your chances of winning looked slim.

“Ass so perfect and fat it belongs on an Anime..like look at this shit. I want this everyday..and everytime you deny me and act like you can’t take this dick, this pussy will pay the price for it.” A series of slaps to your pussy lips had you drooling, the slight sting coaxing forward more sticky liquid from you.

“Yesss bubby I wanna be better…just please fuck me now.” You sucked your thumb and sighed in content, eyes wet and waiting.

The opening title to Castlevania played loudly in the background as your cheeks bounced against his pelvis. He played with and gripped the flesh until you begged for more, then filled you to the hilt with his thick dick. The wet queefs battling against the volume of the tv as the animated characters battles against cruel priests and demons. In a way y’all were two of the same. You currently battled a hefty dick attached to a man with a sickening face card and a stroke that had you thinking sitting out for 9 months wasn’t too bad.

“Wanna try again Peaches…you want bubby to ease up on you hmm, take it easy on my princess?” He stroked the soft hairs at the nape of your neck almost putting you into a coma.

But you were going out like a bitch. And mama didn’t raise no punk, it was now or never. You had to get the next one right, a Sephora trip depended on it. And by the time he breathed out the next question to you like a freaky professor, you had the right answer plus a little more to throw him off his high horse. You made the mistake of calling the tall raven haired vampire fine and that earned you a pinch to your clit.

You fucked back onto him, shadows of your eager ass throwing playing out on the walls. He moaned and whimpered softly behind you, dick being squeezed and squished into your soaking pussy. You wanted a pretty, white creampie to decorate your pretty brown skin. You felt his hot breath on the back of your neck and his chest slick with perspiration as the effects of solid good pussy broke him down layer by layer.

You felt the sharp pain of his nails digging into your hips. The falter of his weakening strokes, the exasperated breaths…it all made you feel so empowered— so in charge. You could brag for days and shout out this victory from the fucking roof tops..who was scared of dick now?

“Just cum already…you know it’s a losing battle Bubby. Just succumb, you know you wanna paint this fat kitty…so just do it.” Hot warm spurts of cum littered your backside and trickled down to mingle with your own release. Satisfied sighs leaving both of your mouths and you were greedy to touch your lips to his again…to indulge in a kiss with your handsome faced loser.

Strong hands soothed your tense muscles and massaged your sore limbs back into their rightful place. A lone finger running along his abdomen, observing the purpling hickies you had sucked onto his skin over the course of the last hour and a half.

“Not gonna rub it in my face peaches…you got good sportsmanship all of a sudden?” His hands worked deeply into the balls of your feet, ocean eyes focusing on your pretty face.

“Mm would you prefer me to sweetface? You know I’d rather not do you dirty…I have something else in mind for you.” He threw you a suspicious glance and you simply lifted your pointer and middle fingers into a heart. He didn’t need to know about your extra terms and conditions to winning.

__

$216 dollars, two hefty bags of skincare,makeup, and perfumes. You cheesed and wiggled in the passenger seat back to Terry's place, you had run through Sephora like a kid in a candy store. No aisle or product was left untouched by you, you picked up your everyday items and a whole lot of new ones. Crossing them off of your long list of TikTok recommendations to try.

Now you had Terry seated in a chair, makeup products sprawled out in front of you. He sat arms folded as he looked up at you expectantly. Convincing him to sit here and be a test dummy for your new products took a lot of begging and the promise of a new pair of gaming headphones—though you didn’t care for all the yelling and hollering he did on that damn game.

“So you actually don’t need to fill yours in because they're naturally thick and bushy…but a little brow gel could really clean up these caterpillars.” Your thumb rested against his temple as you brushed his brow hair into a near perfect arch, the brow gel being just strong enough to handle his coarse hairs.

He was eager as ever to hop into the mirror and see what magic you had worked, a small smile forming on his lips before he caught your eyes and let it drop. You rolled your eyes and quickly pushed him back into his seat, popping open a brand new case of eye shadow you would be perfect for the spring. He sighed and held his head still per your request and shut his eyes. You let the small makeup brush dance softly over his closed lids, careful not to press too hard on the small blue veins on his lid.

“See the blue eyeshadow brings out your eyes Bubby…my handsome bestie. Baddest nigga I know.” The two of you shared hearty laughs before he pulled you into his lap.

“You done treating me like a lab rat yet..I’m due for a nap.” You pecked his juicy lips before pulling one more product into your hands. He pulled his head out of your grasp at the first glance of the shiny new tube of lipgloss.

“That's the one you had on earlier when you came..I like the way it tasted.” You nodded and took that info into your head or the future.

Clean uniformed brows, blue eyeshadow, and glossy plump lips decorated his beautifully sculpted face. He let you get a few pictures in before him stood to his full height and threw a strong arm around your waist.

“I love you yeah girl..my gorgeous, sexy, smart Peaches. You’re the bestest friend a person could ask for..but I don’t want to be friends with you anymore.”

Your face frowned up quickly and you tried to pull out of his grip. What the fuck was he talking about honestly, he had you fucked up and you would knock sense into his ass, buff or not.

“Wait..wait let me finish hot head. I don’t want to be friends with you anymore because I’m more interested in being your man..if you’ll let me.”

Oh? And this definitely wasn’t where you thought he was taking this, but you liked it. Loved it in fact. Tall, handsome, incredibly smart and nerdy, intellectual… you could go on. He made you feel safe and heard, saved you from bullies when the two of you were just kids, built you up so no one could ever deny you again…and above all else he loved you.

“You want me..in that way?” Just a little reassurance..just to hear him say it once more..just to make sure he wasn’t pranking you like the boys did when you were a teen.

“I want you in every way you’ll let me have you. I’ve stood by for too long watching unfit men attempt to snub out your light..you deserve to shine and be soft. Let me do that for you y/n.” You threw your arms around his neck, hot tears streaming down your face. You deserved this, trusted this..wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.

“You’re lucky you’re cute and convincing. I want this with you, I trust you to keep your word and do right by me because you've always done so.”

“I’ll do more than keep my word. I’ll show you how a real man courts a woman..show you why there’s nobody better than you out there for me. I love you Peaches.”

“Love you more nerd.”

__

@becauseimswagman1 @ranikyani @blyffe @23jammy @keehendrixx @ovohanna24 @venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @blackmoonchilee @tvchi @blackerthings @honeys-archives @luvrsluxe

[yuikomorii]

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 3

// Sorry for the delay; I had some things to take care of, so I couldn’t focus on writing the fanfic. But~, I finally finished the 3rd chapter and even started working on the 4th one… ohoho, that one’s going to be interesting. 👀

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Place: Rejet Labels building

Ayato: A hotel, huh? Well… whatever they will make us do there, it can’t be that bad, right?

Subaru: Dunno about you, man, but as soon as I know I’m being filmed, I’m pretty much doomed to mess it up.

So yeah, it actually is that bad for me!

Ayato: Haa… relax a little, will you?

At least you’re not going to be stuck on the farm like the Hyung line. If you think working at the hotel sucks, imagine milking cows in the middle of a mud pit!

Subaru: Eww! G-Gross!

Ayato: Yeah, exactly! So, quit whining!

Subaru: Heh, I gotta wonder how they even convinced Reiji to go there. Knowing him, he wouldn’t last five minutes in a place like that!

Ayato: I bet the manager kept the farm thing a secret. If Shu knew, he would have faked being sick in a heartbeat!

— someone spies on them —

???: Hmm…

Kanato: Laito, what on earth are you doing?

— Laito flinches —

Laito: Oh my…— Kanato-kun, didn’t your parents teach you about not interrupting people when they’re in the middle of something~?

Kanato: Well, I’m sure your parents made it very clear that spying on people isn’t appropriate either, but here you are, completely ignoring that little life lesson.

Laito: Nfu, touché.

Kanato: Now tell me, what is this all about?

Laito: Nothing important~. I’m just trying to figure something out.

Kanato-kun, don’t you think Ayato-kun has been acting a bit… different lately?

Kanato: That depends. What exactly do you mean by "different"?

Laito: Isn’t it obvious? It feels like he started ignoring me.

Kanato: That might just be your imagination.

Laito: Hmm… Something still doesn’t sit right with me.

Kanato: If this is causing you so much concern, it would be best to ask Ayato directly what’s going on with him.

— rolls eyes —

Laito: ( You don’t get it. )

Place: Hotel

Co-worker 1: They’re on their way!!

Co-worker 2: Someone, pinch me! I’m about to faint!

Yui’s monologue

Today is the big day!

The hotel staff has been working tirelessly ever since they got wind of the idol announcement.

They’ve been running around, handling everything with meticulous attention to detail, so as to make sure that everything runs smoothly.

I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’ve only been in Tokyo for less than a week, and now I’m about to meet two members of one of the biggest groups at the moment.

It somehow feels surreal…!

Although, I really do wish Hana-san could be here as well… She’s the one who deserves to see Ayato-san in person more than I do. But, I suppose there’s nothing that can be done about it.

For this reason, I genuinely hope I’ll be able to get that autograph for her.

Receptionist: This is bad, this is really bad!

Yui: …!

Did something happen?

Receptionist: Unfortunately, yes! Our porter fell down the stairs while getting ready and broke his ankle.

He won’t be able to come in today, and with all positions already filled, it will be impossible to find a replacement!

Yui: Oh no… That’s awful!

( Everyone has put in so much effort to make this day perfect, and it’s just so unfair for something like this to happen out of nowhere! )

But... is there really no one available to pick the luggage and take the boys to their rooms? I don’t think it would take too much time, and the person could easily get back to their usual tasks afterward. Surely someone can step in, right…?

Receptionists: If you’re so confident about that, why don’t you volunteer then?

Wait— That’s it! You could totally do that!

Yui: M-Me!?

( This is not the way I was going for! )

Receptionists: Exactly!

You're a work-exchange girl, right? Your role in these tasks isn’t as crucial as an actual employee’s, therefore your presence isn’t that essential.

That means you could skip whatever task you're doing and step in as the porter today before anyone even notices!

Yui: ( Did I just get called ‘useless’ indirectly? )

I… I would love to help in this situation, but, I’m sorry, I’m not qualified enough for such a job.

( I doubt I would be able to carry the luggage to begin with. Who knows how heavy they are with everything packed inside? )

Receptionists: I beg you, Komori-san!

If you’re worried about whether a girl can handle it, these boys will just stay until tomorrow. They most likely won’t have a lot with them.

Yui: Uuh…

( If it’s just for one day… )

— sighs —

Alright, I accept.

Receptionist: Thank you… Thank you so much!

If there’s any way I can repay you for this, just let me know!

Yui: Ah, there’s no need to. I know you’ve all been working hard for this, so it’s the least I can do.

Receptionist: Well, on a positive note, you'll be the one leading the boys to their rooms, which definitely makes you luckier than the rest of us.

I think this experience alone is rewarding enough, fufu.

Yui: …!

( Wait, I hadn’t really thought about it like that— This will be the closest anyone in the hotel gets to them today, won’t it? )

( I know I should be excited about it, especially since I’ll be able to ask for that autograph for Hana-san, but... ah, I’m feeling so nervous all of a sudden! )

Receptionist: ( The limo arrived! )

Komori-san, go to the hallway!

The driver will soon bring their luggage there, where you’ll have to wait for them. Once they enter, the hallway entrance will automatically close, and then the three of you will head towards their room.

— lends her keys —

I hope the instructions were clear enough. Good luck!

— Yui nods and quickly leaves —

Place: Hotel hallway

Yui: ( Phew, I can’t believe I made it in time. )

( I’m already starting to hear voices, so they must be clo—— )

— entrance opens —

Yui: …!

Ayato: ( Is that… a girl? )

Subaru: ( Hah!? Who even thought it would be a good idea to make a girl a porter? Can she even lift our stuff—? )

Yui: ( No way… they’re even more handsome in real life…! )

( I’d better avoid looking at their faces, otherwise I’ll get too nervous to even concentrate! )

W-Welcome to the “Yume no Mori” hotel. It’s a pleasure to have you here!

— bows and takes luggages —

( Hooh… heavy! )

Please, follow me.

— they start walking —

Subaru: ( Dunno if it’s just me, but I’m low-key starting to get second-hand embarrassment watching her struggle like that. )

Ayato: ( Why would they even hire such a weakling for this type of job? I thought this was supposed to be a 5-star hotel, but maybe they’re just out of budget or something? )

Yui: ( The receptionist told me they’ll be leaving tomorrow, but what on earth did they even pack in these things? My arms feel like they’re about to fall off! )

Subaru: Oi! You… Do you need help?

Yui: Eh?

— looks up —

Ayato: ( Subaru, what are you doing? )

— brushes his hand off —

Can’t you see? This is her responsibility, not yours, so let her do her job.

If she’s not capable of taking it seriously, then she just shouldn’t be working here anymore and risk damaging the hotel's reputation.

Yui: ( Such cold words… )

( While it’s true that I’m not cut out for the porter job, saying something like that to someone is simply uncalled for…! )

A-Anyway, thank you, but there’s no need to. We just arrived to your room.

— opens door and hands them keys —

By the way… I would like to apologize for my poor performance.

The truth is, I am deeply grateful for this opportunity and I——!

*THUD*

( Did they just… slam the door in my face? )

Place: Hotel room

Subaru: Man, the hell’s wrong with you?

Ayato: With me!? You’re the idiot who offered to do her job in the first place!

Subaru: I was just trying to help, okay!? Am I not allowed to do anything without getting chewed out for it now?

Ayato: Tch… you’re so oblivious that it’s giving me a headache. This person works at one of the most prestigious hotels in Tokyo, she should know better!

Imagine putting your trust in someone, only for them to screw up so badly that it could end up destroying everything.

Subaru: But she didn’t even screw up, she was just struggling, that’s all!

Seriously, what’s going on? All this time, you’ve been known as the friendliest person to the fans. You even helped the bodyguard hold the concert fence, for crying out loud!

So what’s with this sudden shift in attitude, huh?

Ayato: That’s…— Well, things have changed! There’s a lot more going on behind the scenes that you don’t even see.

If I keep acting as I once did, the consequences won’t just fall on me—they’ll affect all of us, understood!?

( I just can’t afford to be selfish again… The choices I make now have an impact on others, and I have to be more mindful of that. )

Subaru: I mean… if you put it like that, it makes sense, but you still shouldn’t lose yourself in the process, y’know?

At the end of the day, no matter how much someone screws it up, we... we’re a team, so yeah, we’ll have to find a way to fix it together, I guess.

( Damn, I'm really not good at putting these things into words! )

Ayato’s monologue

"We’re a team."

Those words are supposed to be reassuring, but why do they only make me even more nervous…?

What will truly happen if I put the group in danger, huh? Will they really back me up, or just turn their backs on me?

Shu doesn’t seem like the type to overlook such mistakes—he basically said as much the other days.

As for Reiji and Kanato… Yeah, forget it. They’d make it sound even worse.

And Laito… he’s the one I’ve always been closest to, but even with him… I don’t know. A part of me can’t shake the feeling that if it came down to it, he’d take their side too.

So that only leaves Subaru.

However, knowing him, he’d probably just end up jumping on the bandwagon too. No way that guy would want to be seen as my accomplice or something like that.

Haa… that would indeed be an uncomfortable situation.

After all, no one likes to have shade thrown at them.

…!

( Wait—! )

( Exactly! No one would like that! )

— stands up and heads towards door —

Subaru: Oi, where are you going—?

Ayato: I have to solve something, I’ll be right back.

— leaves —

Subaru: Ok…?

Place: Hallway

Ayato: ( That’s true, I was too harsh on the porter. I didn’t stop to think about what she might have been going through. )

( Maybe she was having a bad day and by letting my own irritation get the better of me… well, I must have surely made it worse. )

( I mean, if I were criticized, I’d feel like crap too. It’s obvious nobody enjoys being judged, especially when they’re already struggling, right? )

( And yet… I did exactly that to her. )

( So yeah, I’ve gotta fix this! I’m going to find her and apologize, even if it’s super awkward. )

Oi, porter!

Author’s note:

*If you forgot what happened in the first chapter and are wondering why Ayato and Yui don’t recognize each other, well that’s because Ayato was wearing a mask and a cap back then, and they were also in the dark, so they couldn’t notice each other’s features well.

[pitrsattabhaadmeinjaa]

wont you kiss me on the mouth (and love me like a sailor)

buddie, 2.1k

beta reader: @krissy-kat

“I’m in love with Eddie!” Buck nearly yells as soon as his sister opens the door after his frantic knocking and calls of her name, panting like he’d run a marathon, half-leaning on the doorframe, half falling inside. “Maddie, I’m in love with my best friend!”

“Buck–” Maddie’s eyes are wide and she’s carrying a half filled wine glass.

He started turning around to find a place to lay down and never get up again, just to stop in his tracks when he saw what had Maddie so worked up.

Eddie.

Or, Buck discovers he’s in love with Eddie, rants about it to Maddie, and doesn’t realise Eddie is right behind him.

“I’m in love with Eddie!” Buck nearly yells as soon as his sister opens the door after his frantic knocking and calls of her name, panting like he’d run a marathon, half-leaning on the doorframe, half falling inside. “Maddie, I’m in love with my best friend!”

“Buck–” Maddie’s eyes are wide and she’s carrying a half-filled wine glass.

He sidesteps her to enter the house, rubbing his face like if he did it hard enough, he could stop feeling these emotions. He walks in a few steps and turns to her with his back to the rest of the house and says, “Maddie, oh god, I’m so fucked, Maddie– I was just dropping off Chris at his friend’s house for a sleepover and the kid’s mom met me outside to greet us,” Buck starts gesturing with his arms, “And after Chris went inside she started asking about me, right, like, asking how I am and if I knew how this sweater brings out the color of my eyes, and like of course I know, that why I chose it, but that's besides the point. The point is that it made me uncomfortable! Like, since when has someone hitting on me made me uncomfortable?

“And then when I thought about it a little, Maddie, you know what I realized? I didn’t like it because she’s not the one I wanted to notice my sweater, I didn’t like it because I wore it to meet Eddie later today,” he burst out, “to go get pizza at this new place that opened up that we wanted to try and see if Chris would like it, and I wanted him to like my sweater and my eyes!”

“Buck, wait–”

“No, no, this cannot wait. I’ve been thinking about that the whole drive here, that I want Eddie to think I look good and that I think he looks extremely good in the jeans that came half-off with this sweater that I let him borrow because I knew they would look so good on him– No, stop distracting me, I need to tell you what happened next.”, he said, holding up both hands. Buck had been stewing in that fact deeply the whole hour and a half that he had been driving and sitting in traffic, thinking back to every interaction he’d had with his best friend. Had he always liked the way Eddie’s brown eyes shone whenever he smiled at Buck, or how his fingers looked perfect for sucking on, or how his voice was all rough and raspy and hot in the mornings? No wonder Tommy left him after a few months.

“Apparently, that lady wasn’t his mom, but just her twin sister who’s visiting, which, does make more sense because I know his actual mother loves her husband too much to do that, and when Sandra came out, she apologized to me, to which I replied ‘no, it's all good’, but then, she scolded her sister, which at first I was confused a little by,” Buck splayed his hands open, showing his apparent confusion, “but then she told her sister that I’m Christopher’s other dad, Eddie’s husband. And I wanted to correct her, but I didn’t, because you know why?”

He fisted his hands and joined them, and leaned down toward her, speaking through his teeth, “Because I liked it! I liked her referring to me as Eddie’s husband, as Christopher’s dad, because,” he tilted his head pointedly, “as I’ve deduced on the ride here, I want to be Eddie’s husband and Christopher’s dad!”

Maddie’s face had a look of urgency, and she was looking behind Buck, but he disregarded it as soon as she said, “Buck, Eddie is–”

“Yes, I know Eddie’s straight, and he could never love me like that,” he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, and a broken, wet laugh emerged from him, “but I just needed to tell you as soon as possible because you gave me some pretty solid advice on how to deal with Eddie-related stuff last time, and oh my god, that wasn’t me trying to get Tommy’s attention was it? I was trying to get Eddie’s back.” His hands were no longer against his eyes, and his face was lit with a mix of realization and dismay. His head was also brimming with the same, realizing that he’s been in love with Eddie for far longer than he thought, and devastated with the fact that he can’t do anything about it. Eddie was straight, and their relationship will never be the same after this, because there is no way that Buck can keep lying to his Ed–his friend for long, no way that he can bear Eddie not knowing everything about him.

He started turning around to find a place to lay down and never get up again, just to stop in his tracks when he saw what had Maddie so worked up.

Eddie.

Eddie, sitting there on Maddie and Chimney’s couch. Eddie, with his mouth open and a beer halfway to his mouth. Eddie, with his eyes wide and that borderline pornographic mustache he’d grown.

Eddie, who heard all of that. Eddie, who is surely about to break Buck’s heart by letting him down gently and he cannot bear the rejection right now.

So he did the only rational thing one can do in a situation such as this. Taking a page out of all his ex’s books, he ran.

…

Eddie didn’t think his ears were working right, because there is no way that just happened, right? His best friend didn’t just basically confess his love to him and run away, right? Right?

Except that’s exactly what happened, because even if he was delusional and hallucinating that, the expression on Maddie and Chim’s face is shocked enough that he can be sure they all saw that.

So now that he’s sure that was real, he can safely go through his emotions, starting with: What. WHAT. Buck loves me? Buck loves me back? What?! Fuck. Buck loves me. Fucking fuck yes. Buck loves me. Wait. Fuck. Buck loves me. Buck ran away. Shit. Buck doesn’t know I love him. Shit. SHIT.

Maddie’s looking at him, apparently over her shock now, sporting an expectant look on her face. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

The sound of an engine starting outside stirred him from his own dazed surprise, and he did the only rational thing one can do in a situation such as this. Taking a page out of Buck’s book, he ran.

After Buck, that is.

Eddie kept his beer on the table and leaped to his feet, and ran out, foregoing shoes, and saw Buck’s Jeep pulling out the driveway, on the street. Shit. “Stop, Buck, wait! Buck, stop, would you just–for god’s sake Buck, stop!” He didn’t.

Due to the lack of fully-there-ness because the love of his life had just said he loved Eddie back, no one can blame him for what he did next. He ran in front of the car. Because more than he was reckless at the moment, he had full trust in Buck not to run him over.

Which turned out to be true because as soon as Buck saw him, he braked hard and then just–froze. His baby blue eyes wide open and hands gripping the wheel, he just sat there staring at Eddie who was in front of the car with his hands out.

Eddie pointed at Buck. “Out. Now. No running.”

Buck's face turned stony and he reinforced his grip on the wheel. “No.”

“No? What do you mean no? Get out of the car, Buck!”

“Or what?” Buck’s face was now doing that thing where he thought he could stay strong enough to resist the Diaz Eyes, patented by one Christopher Diaz. He was so annoyed, because he never could. And he’d done enough therapy to know that Eddie wouldn’t let this ruin their friendship but Buck was too high on his emotions that he couldn’t take even a gentle let down by his best friend, so he resorted to acting petulant.

Eddie, who was also a Diaz and aware of the Eyes, said nothing and just stared at Buck pointedly, with one finger still pointing to the ground outside the Jeep.

Buck, as expected, didn’t hold out long. His face turned resigned, and he heaved a big sigh, folding in on himself in the driver’s seat. He slowly started opening the door, and Eddie, now satisfied Buck would actually come out, went over to him.

He got out of the car, eyes downcast and opened his mouth to defend himself. “Eddie, please. Just reject me later, I can’t bear it now–”, only to be interrupted by Eddie’s lips.

Wait. By Eddie’s lips? What?

Eddie was kissing him. Eddie was kissing him. Eddie was kissing him. And Buck was just standing there like an idiot.

Well, no one said he couldn't learn and go with the flow. He brought his hands up, one to Eddie’s, who was cupping Buck’s face, and one to Eds’ hip, holding him close. The kiss was…amazing. It was everything they said it would be. Fireworks, a burst of emotion, senses dulled to everything except the points their bodies were touching.

It was magnificent. And short-lived. Eddie pulled away first, Buck subconsciously leaning forward to chase his lips, away from where he was pinned against the Jeep. He opened his eyes, and the world, and all of its tortuous realities, came flooding back.

“What.”, his voice cracked. Tears were starting to build up in his eyes, and Evan Buckley had never been more confused in his life.

Eddie was still staring at his lips, and said dazedly, “God, I should’ve been kissing you a long time ago if that’s what it feels like.”

“What.” Buck’s world was rocked. What did Eddie just say?

Eddie took pity on him, and looked up at his eyes. And then he said the most ridiculous thing ever. “I love you too, Buck.”

“What. I– I don’t understand.”

Eddie softened then, his smile turning small and quiet, and his eyes took a devastatingly watery quality, “I want you to be my husband too, and Christopher’s other dad. Legally, that is, because you’ve been raising him alongside me for years now a.”

Oh. Buck’s world rocked further. This all wasn't a dream, or a confusing second reality. Eddie loved him. Eddie wanted to be his husband too.

Buck’s expression started clearing up, a hopeful one dawning on his face. He was the happiest man in the whole world, and he knew Eddie wouldn’t lie to him, but, “Really?”

His future-husband’s face turned mock reserved at that, a glint of mirth in his eyes giving him away. “Well, no, I was just kidding–”

Buck interrupted him with his lips, “Nope, no take-backs, you said it now, sorry.”, with a cheeky smile, and Eddie gave up all pretense, laughing fondly at the man he loved. They leaned in again, and Eddie gently poured all the love he had into this kiss, moving a hand up to Buck’s hair and pulling him in even closer by his waist with another. They moved slow, because it felt like they had all the time in the world now, and nothing could get in between them, nothing– click.

They broke apart, both grinning at each other dopily first, to see Maddie and Chimney out on the front porch, twin grins pulling at their faces and taking a photo of them.

Chim gave them two thumbs and Maddie held the phone up to them and yelled, “I’M SENDING THIS TO THE GROUPCHAT.”

Chim pointed aggressively at them and said, “BUCK I’M GONNA BE YOUR BEST MAN, I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU BUT DON’T YOU DARE ASK ANYONE ELSE!”

Maddie looked up from her texting at that, “Sorry, babe, but I’m gonna be his best woman.” Buck chimed in from his place in Eddie’s arms, “Yeah, Chim, sorry, but she’s right.”

“Aw, well,” he sighed, “You’re the only person I’d give up that spot to.”, and lovingly pecked his wife’s cheek.

Eddie looked back then, “DON’T WORRY, BUD. YOU CAN BE MINE!” Chim whooped at that, and Maddie went back to the barrage of texts that must surely be coming in from their family, shaking her head fondly.

Buck kissed him again, chastely this time, for his sister’s sake. “You don’t think we’re moving a little fast?”

“This has been seven years in the making, baby. You’re my family, and I’m not waiting on societal norms to make it legal.” Eddie punctuated that with a kiss to Buck’s birthmark, and what could Buck do other than melt?

His eyes shone, and he let his grin lose once again. “Well, thank god for Sandra.”

Eddie laughed into his love’s neck, and hugged him close.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

[omiishii]

megumi x f!reader — one bed trope

warming: smut , my grammar lol

words: 2,500+

were utterly exhausted. Every bone in your body screamed for a shower and a nice fluffy hotel bed with a million pillows. Unfortunately, the motel was dingy and old with its dated 90s Japanese decor. The sound of the overhead lights buzzing made the muscles in your face twitch. Everything was washed in a yellow faded light casting shadows warily down the walkway.

‘Ugh, my sock is soggy I think…’

Body sore, blood caking the side of your face as well as your knee (conveniently hidden by jujutsu glamor), and your hair in disarray– You shuffled your feet as you stood, glancing over at your far more put-together, attractive mission companion.

You were on a Grade 1 mission with Mr. Perfect himself, Megumi Fushiguro. At least that's what you thought of him. He was so enormously talented– in ways you’d never be. Ugh, it pissed you off.

“A room for two,” Megumi muttered to the front desk lady; A sweet older woman with thick Coke bottle glasses.

“Oh, what a lovely couple,” she muttered quietly. Her voice was reedy and clipped. She hummed as she slowly moved to the key wall mumbling about romance and sweet nothings.

“We aren't …”

A slight blush dusted your cheeks as you tuned him out. He continued sputtering to the motel attendee for many reasons and all you could think about was being back home, done with this mission.

One is your current state… and jujutsu status. Megumi was of the honorable Zen’in clan while you were a lowly outsider of bastard lineage. Though Megumi wasn't one for the clan's caste system he still had this air about him. His spotless appearance spoke volumes about the power gap between you both.

He was cool, calm and collected. Everything a jujutsu sorcerer should be, but you struggled to wake up early enough to train and forgot to take your medication regularly. A classic girl failure.

You sighed looking up at his cut jaw and dark silk-like tresses.

And two… you were wholly in love with him.

…

With the key in hand, the two of you walked down the sidewalk to room 3C. The clicking of your shoes echoes in the night. The two of you in simple silence. Till someone broke it and surprisingly it wasn't you. “I think you should take less risks on missions. It's not worth a small rank like this. You get too close and leave your left side wide open.”

His comment sounded guarded, cautious even as he unlocked the motel door

“Who asked?” You ground out, embarrassment lacing every inch of your body. God this was so stupid. The one time you go on a mission with Mr. Perfect, he reads you for filth.

Stomping inside you chunk your backpack against the wall.

“At least be a little respectful,” he muttered.

“Just shut it, Megumi.” you flipped him the bird as you rushed into the bathroom. “ I call dibs on the first shower.”

With that, you slammed the small bathroom door before letting out a massive groan.

“I'm such a bitch…”

…

The shower did in fact heal you just a little bit. You felt somewhat human afterward, a bit nicer too.

“Figure I should apologize" You mutter to yourself sheepishly with a towel in tow.

“Hey Megumi” You call observing the dingy feeling of the room. Its lights overhead feel distant and faded. There was a chair, a small box television, and one…one bed. “Wait…”

Wait, why was there…

“..Only one bed?!” Eyes bugging out of their sockets as blood rushes to your face, practically shouting it.

“Hey, quiet it down.”

Words fell from your mouth, “Don’t silence me, you slut!’

Your heart raced as you realized the implications of sharing a bed with Megumi. Thoughts of intimacy and vulnerability flooded your mind aka, being naked wrapped in pure ecstasy. It contradicts the frustration and resentment you had been feeling towards him just moments ago. Hot and cold create a whirlwind of feelings.

Suddenly images of you beside him attack your brain, as well as beneath… Instantly flustered you tossing the towel at his face.

He grunts feeling it smack his head, “It's not my fault. I told her we weren't married.” He tosses it back, “Besides I’m sleeping on the floor.”

It knocked the wind out of your sails and honestly, you didn't expect anything less “Oh…”

…..

The rest of the night you felt a bit awkward thanks to you and your big mouth. Just leave it to you to be reactive and look so totally and utterly uncool in front of your senior. You cringed at the thought of what kind of report he might write… or worse blab to Gojo– you’d never hear the end of it.

After a quick fast food run the two of you settle in for the night. Each kept to the corners of the room, not looking at the other for too long.

True to Megumi’s words, he grabbed a pillow and a scratchy blanket and started prepping his cot. Shame and guilt washed over you. The man had your back today when it counted and here you were making him sleep on the crusty floor. You just felt… awkward as you pulled back the covers and a bit ungrateful.

“Oh gross,” he whined quietly.

“What now?”

“Foreign stain…blood or shit… can't tell which.”

You look at the unfortunate stain with a grimace and with a heavy sigh you say, “Megumi…just share with me. I won't tell anyone if you don't.”

He gives you a solemn stare before he replies “Fine.” before tossing his pillow on the bed.

……

The two of you lay side by side coffin style– cumbersome and clinical on the small bed. You try your best not to touch him and give him plenty of space, suddenly aware of every inch you take up. Breathing becomes something you have to actively think about. Damn, of all the people to share a bed with…

The light turns out and all you hear is him shifting and turning on his side as you stare up at the ceiling. Heart pounding in your ears as your vision is enveloped in darkness. The mildew smell of the motel and the warmth of him that radiates through the thin sheet between you two make your head spin.

This just isn't fair. Would he laugh at you the next day? Would he think you’re weak?

Despite your best efforts, you can feel his skin almost ghost yours. Slowly you pull back rubbing your socks on the itchy sheets.

“Do you really hate me so much?” His voice suddenly booms in your ear despite his even tone.

“What?” head whipping sideways fast only to still see his back towards you— gray t-shirt straining over corded tense muscles.

“Do… you hate me?” he repeated, a bit slower. His body pivoting to face yours.

Side by side the two of you peer into each other's eyes– searching for something to hold on to. Two emotionally constipated people make for some uncomfortable, quiet tension.

You don't know what he's looking for in your gaze, but for you …you looked for anything real– a feeling, a micro expression. Would you be honest only for him to laugh at you or, would you forever be befuddled with tonight's mission and its aftermath. A stain just like the one on the floor. Blood or shit…

To your surprise, as you search his dark blue midnight-like irises you see nothing but a look you can't quite place.

“No.” You answer honestly, taking a leap of faith. Your blood is singing through your veins. “I always thought you'd hate me.”

It was his turn to search your gaze. His softens and you feel your heart tug. Each heartstring is being plucked gently.

“Never.” He said evenly— calculated but honest.

The way he looked at you made those heartstrings sing. His normally high-walled expression suddenly looked love-sick— all for you?

The blood in your head pounded. You couldn't believe this. What did he mean by this?

“Never?” You echoed back hoping he'd catch your drift.

All the years watching him train. All the years you saw him strive to be who he is today. Such adoration held in your heart you poured into your words. “You're just so perfect and I'm just so…”

His lips were on yours– soft and questioning. They hovered as he whispered. “Don't talk about yourself like that.”

You feel the damn break in that instant.

You don't know who kissed first this time but both of you were tangled in minutes. Arms and legs clinging to each other like you'd disappear in a blink of an eye. Both, kissing is so passionate, all tongue and teeth.

“Megumi.” You whimper feeling his hands pull you closer to his hard muscles – yours a stark contrast, all soft and supple.

‘Shit, he's built like a brick wall’ you sob with tears of joy mentally. Forever thankful for the old lady going on about the joys of marriage and one bed.

“Call me Fushiguro,” he says between each kiss.

“Fushiguro.” You mumble against his lips as you deepen a kiss.

His leg slid between your thighs causing your breath to hitch. His nimble fingers slide along the edge of your shirt. He drew little patterns near your hip bone, making you squirm with need. ‘Damn he's good.’ you weren't a virgin by any means but the way he touched you made you feel like a live wire sparked under your skin.

Copying his movements, you danced your hands under his shirt. They twirled and tip-toed up his spin, making him shutter. You wanted him so badly you could taste it.

But surely that wasn't the case for him… the idea of Megumi wanting you desperately seemed out of the realm of possibility.

When his clothes cock ground on your covered center, however, a groan tore through your lips. Blush adored your face.

‘ God if you are real, thank you.’ you thought feeling his abs under the pads of your fingers. His muscles twitched and spasmed under your touch.

Two touch-starved lovers caressed each other till they were a moaning mess in the dark.

You don't remember how your clothes ended off, and on the floor, but soon the two of you were naked. Wrapped in each other's arms, praying for more.

“I want you so bad.’ his voice rumbling in his chest. The deep richness of his voice makes you wet and weak. “Every day I have to see you. And every day I'd have to think about how I couldn't have you. He tweaks your nipple after that statement. The sensation of leaving goosebumps on your arms and neck. You suddenly felt parched for something more. Hunger took over you as you felt him cup your tits.

Grinding down on his pretty pink, hard member, slick dripped from your ripe cunt. Wanting and needing more he did the same.

“I can't keep waiting.” your breath came out of your pants. “I need your cock so bad."

His face turned red, and with a playful frown, he batted your thigh feeling a tad bit embarrassed. You couldn't help but laugh. The sound rang like a clear bell, music to Megumi’s ears. It was one of his favorite things about you, well…and your boobs.

“I don't have a condom.“ he said gruffly, disappointed with the realization.

Matter of factly you contested, “I don't mind. I got an IUD.”

He hung his head and a hiss left his lips. “Shit don't say shit like that. It's too tempting.” his cock twitches against your soft leg.

“Oh?” you bit your lip. You tried to feel bad. You really did, but as your hand slid down and grabbed his throbbing shaft a whimper escaped his lips and you wanted nothing more than to tease him. “I could give you a pussy job.”

“God damn it. “ he breathed. Though his face seemed to be neutral, he quickly sat up lining his weeping dick over your swollen pearl “Yes.”

Gently, he slid it up and down. “Fuck.” you moaned, feeling the tip catch your needed clit. Moving your hips in slow circles you could feel all your wetness. Slick sounds and heaving panting could be heard through the motel room.

“You feel so good.” he breathed caging you– hands on either side of your head. His long body shields you from the world, just you and him.

His cock continued to slide through your pussy lips. Each pass-over makes you groan and moan. Something deep in your cunt felt like a sudden itch that couldn't be scratched. It was driving you insane. The idea of him pounding into you making the bed creak and groan taunted you. Oh, to have him fill you with his cum– to be dripping pathetically underneath him.

He must have had the same fantasy cause with each pass of his cocks reddened head over your greedy hole, he groaned louder and louder. Each thrust became more and more frantic before suddenly you felt the tip catch your entrance.

The two of you gasp for air. Hands cling tightly and the movement comes to a halt. His eyes look at your flushed face and tousled hair.

God, you couldn't do it anymore, “please…”

'What?’

“Please I need you so bad, it hurts.” you felt so pitiful as you begged laying in your wet mess.

Something in Fushiguro snapped, all caution thrown to the wind. “Fuck.”

Slowly he tilted his hips, the head of his cock easily piecing your core. His hard member rubbed through your slown cunt so slowly. His size wasn't too enormously big but the way he was curved hit that spot just right.

“Ah, Megumi, please,” you begged.

With that, he snapped his hips. The curve of his cock hits your g spot just right till you see stars. All you can do is cling to him as he rocks your body and world.

God, this felt so unreal. Every nerve in your body sang and all the chemicals dumped at once creating the feeling of pure love.

You peek up at him and see he's been watching you, his eyes filled with devotion. Cradling his face, your fingers trace his jaw, chin, and lips. The feeling of his cock bullying your core soon takes its toll. Your body feels like it's about to snap. All you can do is moan wildly. “Fugiguro…. I'm so close.”

“Good girl.” He grunts in your ear. That alone sends you flying off the edge. Stars explode, and it's like a cord snapping deliciously. You scream his name as his thrusts get more and more sloppy as your cunt milks him for all he's worth.

“Where?” he grunts.

“Inside, please…”

With that, he too is joining you in pure ecstasy. His member paints your insides with each finishing stroke. The last bit of your orgasm makes you sensitive and whiny.

“Thank you,” you mutter pathetically in his ear, as you hold him tight.

He smiles in the crook of your neck, “I should be thanking you.”

With a few more thrusts he pulls out his softening cock. It drips small its of cum over your thigh. You'd shower in the morning but for now, your fingers play with the edges of his dark tresses. “Fushiguro…”

Expectantly he looks at you, “Yeah?”

“I'm so glad there is only one bed.”

He chuckles but relief feels in his eyes. “Me too…”

[seulw0nz]

✶ CLOSE TO YOU : PARK SUNGHOON ( 日语)

𝖠𝖫𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖵𝖤𝖫𝖸 ⸝⸝ 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌

𝓲 ⦂ 성훈 x f!reader ﹑ 5OOwc. && lots of kissing, petnames, skinship . . . fluff oneshot , slightly childhood friends 2 lovers ── ARCHiVE

DANiELLE : for my @tzyunaes only >//< since she wrote me a hee oneshot HAHA.. yes i'm double posting :0

SUNGHOON'S CHEST RISES AND FALLS IN A STEADY RHYTHM, his face turned toward you as he sleeps. the warm glow of the bedside lamp casts small shadows over his perfect features—long lashes brushing against his cheeks, lips slightly parted, and hair falling messily across his forehead.

you'd been sitting there for the past twenty minutes, just staring.you try to convince yourself to let it go, to not be weird about it. but your fingers are fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie, and your thoughts keep circling back to the same thing.

"just one kiss," you whisper under your breath, voice barely audible. it’s not like he’d know. he’s asleep, and he probably wouldn’t even wake up. besides, you’ve wanted to kiss him for ages, ever since you first met him 10 years ago.

you get up from your spot and inch closer. your knees feel weak when you stop right in front of him. finally, finally, you let your lips brush against his, a featherlight kiss that lasts less than a second.

you freeze, eyes darting to his face, but he doesn’t move. you glance at him, ready to exhale in relief—

but his eyes are open.

you freeze, wide-eyed, as he blinks at you. his voice is low and a little raspy, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “one more, please, pretty girl.”

“what—i thought you were asleep!” you finally manage to say.

“i was,” he murmurs, voice raspy but amused. “but someone decided to steal a kiss from me. didn’t think i’d notice?”

your face feels like it’s on fire. “i wasn't stealing-"

he cuts you off by leaning closer, his hand gently cupping your jaw. “then give me another one, and we’ll call it even.”

you freeze, completely helpless under his gaze, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. his lips meet yours again. his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

you shove his chest lightly, face burning. “stop teasing me, hoon.”

“can’t help it,” he grins, pressing another quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “you’re too cute when you’re flustered.”

before you can retaliate, he leans in again, capturing your lips in another soft kiss, his hands trailing to your waist. you lose track of how long you stay like that, kissing each other.

“was that so hard, pretty girl?” he whispers, his smile sleepy but utterly disarming.

you roll your eyes, trying to mask the way your heart is still racing. “you’re unbelievable.”

“says the girl who kissed me first,” he counters, his grin widening.

[glitteringdust]

"would it be okay if I leaned against you for a while?" for a rookanis prompt? 👀

He almost can’t believe his ears.

"You're going on a picnic. With Davrin."

"And Assan."

"…Right, because the griffon is the one I should be worried about."

Rook laughs, "Why should you be worried about Davrin?"

Lucanis sighs. Had the romance novels he'd been reading skewed his idea of what picnics were? Were they not romantic gestures, perfect places to confess your undying attraction? Certainly they were not casual affairs…

"I'm not worried… I've just never seen him take anyone else on these walks, that’s all."

You are. Worried.

She raises a brow, grinning, "Lucanis… are you jealous?"

"What? No!" He lies, poorly. "I just hope you're ready if he confesses his deepest love for you.”

She laughs again, a sound that always forces a smile to his lips too. He shrugs, acting nonchalant, “It will be embarrassing, surely. Wait and see.”

When she finally leaves, he tries not to think about it, or think about her. He cycles through the usual focuses; plans for stopping the gods, for stopping Illario… what to make for dinner. No matter what, she ended right there in the front of his mind.

What was she doing, at this moment? Laughing at something Davrin said? Being fed bites of cheeses and chocolate covered fruit, an unasked question in the air?

He shakes his head.

Though they'd almost kissed once, he'd been the one to pull away. Sure, she stayed by his side. She'd been there to help pull him out of his own despair, bridging a gap between him and Spite. But did that mean they were…?

He'd never asked, never wanting to assume but now here he was doing just that. What if she did not want him like that any more, and wanted Davrin instead?

He lets the jealousy simmer as he starts chopping the vegetables up for dinner. He takes his time, making exact cuts to ensure each piece was the same size. Not thinking of Davrin's mouth on her skin, her hand in his, her gaze warm and loving. Not thinking of either of them at all.

He's so engrossed in envy that he almost doesn't hear the footsteps of two elves and one griffon crossing over the threshold of the Eluvian, and it's Spite thrumming along his shoulders that snaps him out of it.

Rook. Back home!

He tries not to pay attention to her footsteps heading towards him, Davrin in tow, but they make it through the dining hall doors despite all the mental barriers he placed in their way.

It's Davrin's voice first, "Hey, Lucanis. Listen—"

Before he can finish, Rook rushes forward, "Lucanis! Assan talked to me. I heard him talk!" She's loud, uncoordinated. Something was off.

"Davrin. What happened to her?"

"It's a long story. We tried Gingerwort Truffle tea, but it seems like it's had an… enlightening effect on her."

"That's one way to put it. She sounds..."

The two look over Lucanis' shoulder to see Rook staring intently at the chopped tomatoes, taking one in her hand and giggling as she squeezed it between two fingers.

"…high." They say in unison.

Davrin turns to leave, "Good luck, Lucanis."

Rook looks up, then, and her blue eyes go wide. She points a finger at Lucanis, and then off to his left, and back.

"There's two of you… is that Spite? I can see Spite?!"

The demon's thrill burns against his eyelids.

Rook. Is looking. At me!

"What do you mean?"

She tilts her head to the side, "Looks like you, but purply… and then kind of smudged?"

She reaches a hand out, presumably to try and touch Spite, yet her hand swipes through nothing and she stumbles forward.

He keeps her from falling, from smacking her face on something solid. He only means to steady her, leaving her free to step back should she want but she doesn't.

"Are you okay?"

She nods, "He looked so real…"

"You should sit, for my sake."

Her hand sliding into his as he leads her towards the loveseat sends a flutter throughout his chest. He takes a seat beside her, "So, how was your picnic with Davrin before he accidentally drugged you?"

She gasps theatrically, "Lucanis!"

So she tells him, through the random bouts of laughter, everything that had happened. Assan saying the word 'worms', Davrin unaffected by weird mushrooms, and not a single love confession to be found.

She moves closer to him, hand still in his, "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Rook."

She pauses, blue eyes looking just off to his left, then back.

"Would it be okay if I leaned against you for a while? Feeling… dizzy, now."

She rests her head against his shoulder, navy curls smelling faintly of cinnamon. He feels it all settle, then—the swirling doubts and jealousy that had plagued him all afternoon, because here she was.

Always returning, like the sun through a sky of clouds.

[jjjjeonww]

yoon jeonghan - "married; but they hate eachother?" (pt 1)

this is part 1! ~~an arranged marriage with actor yoon jeonghan wouldn't be that bad right? would it seem bad if he was obsessed with you? word count - 543 summary: kae asks!

you sat rigidly beside Jeonghan, his hand clammy and sweaty as it gripped yours. you had to resist the urge to yank her hand away, her skin crawling at his touch. the forced smile plastered on your face felt more like a grimace as she stared ahead, avoiding jeonghan's intense gaze.

when the interviewer mentioned their upcoming wedding, your stomach churned. Private? Hardly. their agencies had turned their forced marriage into a spectacle, a cash cow to milk for all it was worth. they cared nothing for jeonghan's and yours mutual disdain, your twisted history of clashing egos and resentment.

jeonghan, however, beamed at the interviewer with a manic grin, squeezing your hand painfully. "oh, it won't be private at all," he gushed, his voice taking on a unsettling, almost obsessive tone. "i want the whole world to see us, to witness the love and devotion we share."

your heart dropped as jeonghan spoke, his words sending a chill down your spine. love and devotion? he was delusional if he thought she could ever feel that way about him. no, jeonghan's obsession had long since crossed the line into something darker, more sinister. but you could never know. to jeonghan, it was a secret he'd take to his grave.

you forced yourself to laugh along with him, playing the part of the blushing bride-to-be. but inside, you were screaming. trapped. suffocated by the lies and expectations weighing down on you. his thumb stroked over your knuckles, a possessive gesture that made you want to recoil.

all of his actions and words left you wondering; is he playing his part of the husband-to-be? or is there something more in what he's doing? .....

as jeonghan continued to gush about your impending nuptials, you couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that his enthusiasm was more than just an act. his eyes, when they flicked to yours, held a feverish intensity that made your blood run cold. was he truly playing his part, or had his obsession blurred the lines between fiction and reality?

his hand on hers felt hotter now, almost burning your skin. his fingers traced intricate patterns on your palm, his touch lingering just a moment too long to be purely for show. you fought the urge to pull away, to break the contact that felt so wrong, so violating.

jeonghan leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke to the interviewer. "i want to give y/n the wedding of her dreams," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "a celebration of our love, for all the world to see."

your breath hitched in your throat. his words sounded rehearsed, meant for the audience watching them, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity that frightened you. with each passing moment, with every touch and word, you couldn't help but wonder - was jeonghan truly acting? he probably was right? you couldn't think that he was obsessed. he's simply doing what his manager told him too. to act. 1. act like the perfect man 2. act like the perfect future husband 3. act like he's completely and utterly obsessed with you. wait, that wasn't on the list. but is it 'act like' or 'show that' he's completely and utterly obsessed with you?

[imujings]

hoshi + work song by hozier? :)

when i was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet in the low lamp light i was free

wc <1k. warnings FLUFF!!!, suggestive (they make out at the end. sorry. i’m normal), lots of kissing, hella praise (someone needs to tell soonyoung he’s doing good RIGHT NOW!!). jay’s musings i am so weak for soft sy + this song makes me go ABSOLUTELY FERAL .°(ಗдಗ。)°. you are so right anon. speak ur truth

The lighting in the room is dim, cozy. It’s well into the morning, sunlight streaming faintly through the curtained windows and finding home atop your bedsheets.

You press a long, soft kiss to Soonyoung’s bare shoulder. He’s been murmuring in his sleep for quite awhile now, shifting around like he’s trying to escape some paranormal entity unbeknownst to you. Your fingers inch under the covers and find his.

“Love,” you hum into his skin.

The man shivers at your touch, jolting awake with a gasp. His hair sticks up in all kinds of directions, unkempt from sleep, and you smooth a hand through it. Soonyoung leans into your fingers with an achingly gentle sigh.

“Nightmare again?” you tilt your head in a question.

He nods, eyes fluttering shut when you run a thumb across his cheek. You trace the knot in his eyebrows with your gaze, all the way down to the slope of his collarbone, exposed and vulnerable.

“I can’t remember much of it now,” Soonyoung confesses. “But it felt like I had this big weight on my shoulders—metaphorically, that is. There was so much guilt it was overwhelming. Like I couldn’t breathe, almost. I was in front of you, and you were looking at me, waiting for me to speak, and… I remember feeling terrified. Of what you would think of me if I told you about what I did.”

While you’re listening, your thumb on his cheek never pauses in its soft, methodical swipes along his skin. The barren sunlight leaves him dappled in a honeying glow.

Your heartbeat pounds loud in your ears, your mind taking action to bring his attention to just how much you yearn for him through a steady rhythm of love—if for nothing else but to soothe his worries.

To reiterate your thoughts, you pull him in, letting your arms lay loose around his neck. Your foreheads rest against the other’s.

“Soonyoung,” you whisper, lips brushing his.

His eyes flicker between your soft, melting gaze and the way your mouth curls to enunciate his name. His own lips are parted, waiting, and you’re eager to give, dipping in to steal a kiss.

“You could never,” you kiss him again and he chases your lips. “Never, ever ever, even try to get me to hate you.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Soonyoung says brokenly. “How could you say that?”

Another kiss—one that’s unhurried, searing with want. Your lips travel to the corner of his mouth and down to his jawline. He whimpers at your nibbling.

“You act as if we are made to be perfect,” is your hushed reply, pressing an open-mouth kiss to underside of his jaw. “You’re talking as if being loved and being perfect are synonyms. As if they mean the same thing.”

“In reality, they simply coexist together. Their relationship is more of a simultaneous thing; you are loved, and at the same time, you are perfect just the way you are. Did you know, I love you? I love you, in your entirety—all your sins, all your fears. I love you because they make you, you. Your hatred, your pain, your burdens—are they not just feelings that coexist with the love inside of you? I love you because you are whole and filled with emotions. I love you because you are love.”

There’s a pause, and you draw your face back up to his level again. Soonyoung is staring at you, eyes glassy and lips wobbling.

You’re wondering if you’ve gone too far with your nonsensical ramblings when he kisses you, and all air is knocked out of your lungs.

“Thank you,” he sobs, and you taste the saltiness of his tears as his lips press against yours, frantic, needy.

His hands are in a frenzy, gripping your bare skin like you’ll disappear at any moment. You whine at his touch, passion overtaking you as your fingers wrap themselves in his locks of hair. The man moans when you tug, and the noise sounds so melodic it has you tearing up yourself.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Soonyoung murmurs; you can’t tell what tears belong to who anymore, but you don’t think it matters when you’re this tangled up in each other.

“You are love, too. My love. You are my freedom—my life, my eternity. Thank you.”

wanna queue a song?

[tswwwit]

Here's a stupid meet-the-sibling thing from Portal AU!

Dipper checks his watch for the third time in two minutes, foot tapping nervously against the pavement. Mabel’s usually one to run late, but not this late. 

Twenty minutes have passed since they were supposed to meet up at this coffee shop, and between the fact that his twin’s always eager to see him, and the odd magical blips on his radar in the last hour, he’s starting to wonder if she’s gotten herself in trouble. Again. 

Driven by worry, he checks his phone again - the regular one. No texts, no missed calls. A second check shows nothing on his other phone either, which is arguably just as worrying but for different reasons.

Dipper slumps back in his seat, rubbing at his eyes. 

Great. Exactly what he needed. As if this whole conversation wasn’t going to be weird enough, now he’s got more to stress about. A sister in trouble, maybe, and a magical incident, probably. Not to mention who would obviously get involved with one of those, just to add the cherry on top of a messed up situation.

He’s just about decided to get up and start investigating when he hears the shout.

“Dipper!” 

Jerking up from his seat, Dipper turns towards his sister’s voice. 

Mabel runs down the sidewalk, arms raised and waving wildly, sending her bracelets banging against each other as her earrings bounce along with her steps. She doesn’t slow down as she approaches, instead throwing herself forward until Dipper has to catch her hug with an ‘oof’ of effort. 

He hugs her back in response and gets squeezed so hard it nearly takes the breath out of him, including a brief moment where he’s worried that her earrings will catch on his clothes. 

After a moment he pushes her back, smiling. How long has it been since he’s seen her in person? Four months? Five? From the occasional phone call he knew she was doing well, but it’s good to see her looking so happy in person.

“It’s good to see you.” He gives her a big pat on the back, and gets a ‘bwomp bwomp’ in return. 

“You too, bro-bro.” Mabel steps away, then blinks in surprise. “You look great! Is that a new look?” She gives him a once over, then beams, patting her cheeks. “Oh my gosh, that’s perfect timing!”

“Well, I-” Dipper plucks at his shirt - it’s not that different from his usual, just better fitted. 

So, he may or may not have gotten a lecture on fashion. A very long one. Followed by several insistent recommendations about his outfits, including having a literal pile of clothes dumped on him out of nowhere. He didn’t think it made that big a difference. But maybe it does?

“Okay, okay, I know you had something important you wanted to talk about, but listen.” Mabel rushes to speak, bubbling over with enthusiasm. Dipper lets her take his hands and clasp them tight as she bounces in place. “I just met. The hottest guy.”

“Ugh,” Dipper groans, shoulders slumping. Not another shitty crush. He thought she was over those by now. Still, if it puts his own thing off… “What kind of jerk is it this time?”

“Okay, one? Not a jerk! And two: He’s not for me, you dork!” 

“Wait, what?” Dipper holds her at arm’s length, staring. 

“So like I said,” Mabel continues, giving him a Look. “I met this guy, and we got to talking, and he’s, like, super fun - but clearly into dudes. So I sorta mentioned a certain brother, and guess what! He likes magic, and monsters, and he even says he has a thing for nerds!” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s perfect. You’ll love him.” 

With another groan, Dipper drags a palm down his face. 

Damn it. He knows that she worries about him finding someone since he’s always on the move. Between trying to keep up with the jobs, and tracking monsters, and everything else in his life, he rarely has time for a break. Mabel playing matchmaker isn’t new. Only her choice of candidate, which sounds strangely.. On point?

Hell, a while ago - less than two months, at that - he might have welcomed an intro to this guy, whoever it is. It wasn’t like he was meeting a lot of people himself. 

But oh god. The timing.

“Look, I’m glad you thought of me, but-” Dipper starts, holding up his hands in defense.

“Oh no. Nope! No more of this ‘too busy’, or ‘probably not my type’ stuf. I vetted him Dipper,” Mabel insists, lower lip pouting out - oh god, the puppy eyes, he has to turn away -  “You’re on the road all the time and all alone all the time. So if you aren’t gonna try and meet someone, I gotta have your back.”

Dipper tilts his head back, shuts his eyes, and prays deep down for strength. 

He didn’t want to open with this information. It’s a pretty long story, one with a lot of twists and turns, even some bits that she’s going to feel very ‘I knew it!!’ about. But a little sisterly smugness is way, way better than getting dragged into a date with some guy. 

Even if Dipper turns it down first thing, it could end… Pretty badly. 

He opens his mouth to say so, and gets interrupted by hands clapping on his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Oh my god, don’t look now.” She whispers, turning him back to look at her when his head instinctively swivels. “But he’s right here. I didn’t think he’d show up this soon!”

“Why shouldn’t I look at the guy you’re trying to hook me up with.” He says, flat. It comes out a bit garbled from the pressure on his cheeks.

“Because you’ll freak out thinking he’s out of your league! And he’s not!” Mabel insists, shaking him urgently. “Just be cool for once, okay?”

Dipper has never, ever been cool for a single instant in his life. He doesn’t know why his twin thinks he’s even capable of it. Add on the multiple reasons he can’t exactly flirt with some random dude that Mabel met on the street, and it’s a recipe for infinite awkwardness. 

Before he can explain why this is a bad idea, on so many levels, Mabel straightens up. 

“Hey, glad you made it” She beams at a point over Dipper’s shoulder. “Let me introduce you to-”

A cheerful laugh interrupts her, high and bright. It lingers longer than it should, seconds past the point where it’d be appropriate - then two firm hands clap onto Dipper’s shoulders, squeezing tight. 

“Well, well, well, well, well!” The voice behind him oozes smug pleasure. The grip on his shoulders tightens briefly, then slides down to his biceps in a slow, appreciative stroke. “So this is the famous Dipper Pines, huh?”

The voice, the touch. The smug, amused tone of someone pulling off an amazing joke that nobody’s caught onto yet-

Yeah, that all tracks. 

Dipper doesn’t resist when the man whips him around, frowning up into the beaming face of Bill goddamn Cipher. 

“Boy, you weren’t kidding! He is cute!” Bill exclaims, expression perfectly surprised and delighted. Like he’s never seen this face before in his life. He turns towards Mabel. “And you say this guy’s single?”

“Yep!” She gives a big double-thumbs up. Another person might mistake the way her eye’s moving as a twitch, but it’s just a million winks at Dipper, packed into too small a space. 

Bill lets out a low whistle. “Dang, that’s a shame.” The grins creeps up another fraction. “A smart guy woulda snagged him up the moment they saw him in person!”

Dipper lets out a strangled sound from his throat. Despite the… everything, his face feels hot, turning pink with embarrassment.

He glares at this smug, double-talking jackass. Bill beams back at him with unashamed delight.

From the side, Mabel hisses in annoyance at his reaction. She gestures towards Bill insistently, waving over his body, his arms. She points at his face twice, eyes wide like Dipper hasn’t seen it yet.

But there’s no point in her pointing. Dipper’s well acquainted with every part of his boyfriend. 

Including his tendency to not mention important facts.

So there’s the reason she was late. The reasons for the magic pulses - of course his stupid demon wouldn’t give him any heads up that he was already planetside. And the reason why the guy she met was oh-so-conveniently into nerds, especially ones related to Mabel friggin’ Pines. 

Why did Dipper think mentioning his family was a good idea? It’s only given Bill more chances for chaos. 

Or in this case, a really stupid prank.

“Now let’s see,” Bill says, more contemplative now. His eye roves over Dipper, head to toe. “What else you got going, kid?”

But. Okay, the attention’s nice. It’s never not been nice, even when it’s been creepy and strange and inhuman. 

Maybe playing along a little couldn’t hurt?

“I-” Dipper starts rubbing the back of his neck. If he looks his boyfriend in the eye while lying like a rug, he’ll never pull this off. “Well, I-”

“Oh! Like I said, he’s really into magic. Like you!” Mabel interrupts, bouncing in place. Her voice lowers, as if sharing a secret. “He does freelance work, y’know?”

“Is that so!” Bill’s mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. Dipper half expects him to clap a hand to his cheek in astonishment. “Why, I never! A monster hunter? Right in front of me?”

“You betcha!” Proudly, Mabel sets fists on her hips. All too eager to hype man her brother before he’s said anything himself. “On the track of a dangerous criminal and everything!”

“Wow!” Bill, looking suitably impressed, somehow avoids having his pants set aflame from the sheer force of lying. “I bet he’s a nasty customer, too! A real devilish fellow!”

God, the puns hurt. Dipper can’t help but make a face, which gets another disappointed look from his sister, and a sinister gleam starts building up in Bill’s eye - 

Alright, that’s enough. 

Lying to Mabel would have been bad enough - but between their discussion and Dipper not getting a word in, Bill’s getting so full of himself that he might just explode. And that needs nipping in the bud, immediately.

Dipper shoves Bill back a pace, brushing off his shirt. He gives this asshole the full narrow-eyed glare and, ignoring the aghast look from his sister, flips his asshole boyfriend off. 

“Hey!” Affronted, Mabel takes a step in, taking his arm. “What the heck, Dipper?”

“Mabel, listen,” Dipper starts, only to get shushed by his sister and turned to face Bill by said asshole.

“And you’re feisty as well? Jackpot!” Bill beams, taking his head in his hands. “Now, let’s see about the rest of ya.”

Before Dipper can guess what that means  - or even ask - Bill tugs his shirt up. The only reason it doesn’t come completely off is because Dipper recognizes the motion and jerks his arms down in time. 

“Hey!” He struggles with Bill’s grip on his shirt, planting a palm on Bill’s face as he leans in for closer inspection. “What the hell, man?”

“Yep, that’s a fighter alright! Real nice view!” Bill says, after lingering too long ogling unwillingly exposed flesh. He lets the shirt drop - Dipper spends a second straightening it out - only to grab onto his butt next in a full-palm fondle. “Aha! Now that’s where it’s at!”

It’s so like Bill to start flinging compliments while completely breaking every polite convention known to man. He can never do anything straightforward. Possibly he’s allergic. With a swear, Dipper grapples with his jackass boyfriend again, trying to retain some semblance of dignity. 

Mabel stands off to the side, mouth agape. Silently staring between the two of them, too stunned to react. 

Clearly she wasn’t expecting this kind of crap. And honestly? Dipper can’t blame her. Bill’s pretty good at covering his asshole tendencies when he wants. 

Dipper can handle it, though. He’s already halfway pried the groping grasp off his butt when Bill’s other hand rotates to the front, taking hold with alarming swiftness. The high-pitched yelp he lets out is, thankfully, only from surprise.

“Hey!” And that gesture must have finally shaken Mabel from her shock, because now she looks offended. “Bill! What are you doing?”

“Cute, smart, decent body - he’s just like you said! The whole package!” Bill gives his handful a friendly jiggle, looking thrilled to have found a part to grab where he can’t get smacked away lest there be collateral damage. He turns towards Mabel with a grin. “How’s twenty bucks sound?”

The alarmed “What the hell!” from her comes out at the same time as Dipper’s offended, “Only twenty?”

“Oh, no no no,” Mabel waves her hands rapidly, the sleeves of her sweater nearly covering them in the rush.  “He’s not for sale, what the heck!”

“Oh, of course!” Bill releases Dipper’s crotch to smack himself dramatically on the forehead, shaking his head. “Because he’s his own person! With his own life decisions and everything!” His expression turns serious, nodding as if he actually cared about that fact. “No problem, Shooting Star! I’ll just kidnap him instead.”

A sudden swipe behind Dipper’s knees sends him into a swearing fall. One that’s quickly interrupted as he’s scooped up into Bill’s arms, startled and staring into an excited smile. 

Bill gives Mabel a perfunctory half-bow, bounces Dipper in his arms once - then starts sprinting down the street. 

To Mabel’s credit, there’s only a half-second pause before she follows.

“Help! Brother-napping in progress! Stop, you creep!” Mabel shouts, almost louder than Bill can manage. With some effort, Dipper peeks over his shoulder to see a flail of color trailing behind after them, one sweater-clad arm shaking in fury. “You better let him go, or you’ll regret this!”

Bill cackles louder, chest shaking - and one thing about being a demon is that he can really book it when he needs to. 

Dipper finds himself clinging to his ‘kidnapper’ tight, just to feel more comfortable about not being dropped. Not that he needs to worry about that. Even sprinting full-out and laughing, Bill’s not even breathing hard as he flees the wrath of righteousness. 

Dipper thunks his head against his awful, stupid boyfriend’s shoulder, and rolls his eyes. 

Welp. He’s not sure what else he expected. 

Bill’s always going to be Bill, after all. An evil, bored, antagonising force, bent on finding the funniest thing to do and jerking people around by it at every turn. And a vengeful, chaotic asshole. 

It’s hardly surprising that he and he took offense at someone arranging dates with his boyfriend. Whether or not Mabel knew their situation doesn’t matter in his view. It’s the principle of the thing - and, of course, a chance to be a total dick. 

But all things considered, it’s hardly the worst case scenario. 

Bill could have laid on the charm, gaslighting her into thinking he was a different kind of guy. Something that would make their introduction easier - and have her totally ignoring Dipper’s warnings about what kind of guy he is. 

But freaking her out was too funny, and that showed his true colors. And thank fuck for that. The last thing Dipper needs is another handsome guy charming her into a series of Bad Ideas.

As they round a street corner, Dipper uses the momentum to kick a leg free, planting heel against pavement. Bill slows as he tries to both stop him from falling and continue dragging him along. 

“Aw, c’mon,” Bill chides, making a valiant attempt to pick Dipper up again. “Let’s ditch the sibling and get moving! As far as she knows, I’m gonna do all kinds of dastardly things to ya. Terrible ones!” His eye glimmers, briefly unfocused - and Dipper takes the moment of distraction to get both feet on the ground. “Aww, hey!”

“Not a chance.” Dipper says, less annoyed than he’d like. He dodges another grab by stepping neatly to the side. “You’ve had your fun. Now at least try to behave for like, five seconds.”

One look at Bill’s face says that he’s not done with the fun, or at least thoroughly annoyed at its interruption - which means Dipper has to sweeten the pot. 

“I’m sure she’s panicking as we speak,” He adds, rolling his eyes at Bill’s look of pride. “And it was kinda funny. But at least try to good impression, jackass.” Resting a palm on Bill’s arm, he offers a shy smile. “Please?”

“Hmmm.” Bill hums thoughtfully. A second later, he shrugs. “Eh, sure! Probably wasn’t gonna get much mileage outta dragging it out anyway.”

Yep. Another win for Dipper Pines. He’s getting good at this demon-wrangling stuff. 

“Hey!” Mabel rounds the corner, steps clearly flagging. She leans against he building, then glares at Bill. “You can’t just-” 

Then she leans over, bracing herself on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Dipper’s surprised she caught up this fast, but it wasn’t without effort - he thinks one of her bracelets is missing, and her hair is a mess. 

Dipper offers her a hand, but she waves it off. There’s a thoughtful sound behind him, then arms circle his waist and drag him back into Bill’s grasp. 

“So. I see you’ve met Bill.” Dipper says, finally. He glares a bit over his shoulder as Billtugs him closer to settle in, chin tucked on his shoulder. Probably wearing the very smuggest smile he owns.

“Dipper, I’m sorry,” Mabel blurts. She’s still catching her breath, face red as she flails her sleeves in inarticulate protest. “I didn’t know-”

“That he was an asshole? A jerk? A totally weird creep?” Dipper holds up his hands before she can apologize again. “No, it’s fine. I already knew that. He’s… actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

She pauses, taking in their position. How Dipper’s not struggling, or swearing, or hexing the shit out of his ‘kidnapper’. The worried frown turns more… contemplative. The lightbulb flickers. 

Dipper takes a steadying breath. 

Here goes.

“Mabel, this is… Bill Cipher.” He gestures at Bill, then shoves his head away from his neck before he can leave a hickey. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Mabel boggles at him. There’s no other word for it. Eyes wide, mind clearly racing as she ties in what just happened with how Bill looks and what she thought everything was like just five minutes ago. 

She takes a second, before finally landing on, “What?”

Yeah, that’s a reasonable reaction. 

But if they got along earlier, they’ll… probably get along okay, right? Now that Bill’s got the initial bullshit out of his system, they might even have stuff in common. 

Thank hell for that. Romance is kind of her thing, of course she’s interested. Good thing too. Compared to the rest of his family, Mabel is easy mode. 

Only a second later she claps her hands to her cheeks, gasping hugely. Dipper can almost see the questions about to burst out.

“Let’s go back, get some coffee, and I’ll tell you everything.” Dipper smiles, but speaks before she can start interrogating them on the street. He shrugs Bill off, getting his hand seized in the process. He squeezes it back.  “Trust me, it’s a long story.”