#I was having a writer's block so this didn't exactly turn out the way I hoping it would be whatever
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babygirl-diaz · 8 months ago
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Adventures Of A Drunk Dumbass and His Done Omega (Omegaverse Mpreg)
Tommy arrived at the bar and tried not to let the smell of alcohol mixed with the old tavern smell make him puke. Tommy didn't know what to expect when he arrived at the bar. He spotted Evan pretty quickly as he was near the bar, chugging down a beer while his friends cheered him on. The bartender looked less than enthused, though, and Tommy stepped in before things could get out of hand.
"Evan!" Tommy called out when he approached the bar.
Evan stopped chugging and turned around to look at him. His eyes widened slightly and he hiccuped as he said, "Hi there, handsome." It was obvious that he was trying to appear charming by putting on a seductive smile, but it just came off as goofy.
"Hi," Tommy said, confused. "You okay?"
Evan swayed on his feet and took another sip of the beer that was still in his hand. "Better now that you're here." He winked at him or at least tried to, but ended up closing both eyes.
"Um... Okay?" Tommy was suddenly even more confused. "Ready to go home?"
"Whoa, let me buy you dinner first, babyboy," Evan replied and stepped closer to him. "And then you can take me home and let me make your night."
Tommy raised an eyebrow at him and almost burst out laughing. "What?"
"Buck becomes Buck 1.0 when he's drunk," Hen chimed in.
"He doesn't remember who you are," Chimney added.
Tommy's eyebrows shot up and his hand protectively went on his belly. "Evan, do you know who I am?"
"My next boyfriend?" Evan smirked.
"No, I'm your-"
"Wait, you're mated?!" Evan cried out. "How could you be mated?"
"Yeah, I'm mated and three months pregnant with our first pup," Tommy informed him.
"Nooooooooo!" Evan whined loudly and went to legitimately cry on Chimney's shoulder. "You were supposed to be my soulmate!"
"Evan-"
"There, there, it's okay, Buck," Chimney said, patting Buck's shoulder.
Tommy watched them in amusement. "Evan, do you really not remember who I am?"
"You were supposed to be the love of my life," Evan replied in between his sobs.
He sobbed for a while before it died down and then he wiped his tears and came back to Tommy. His eyes flashed golden and there was an indecipherable look on his face. "Who is your mate?" He asked with a low growl.
Evan's voice sent shivers down Tommy's spine but not out of fear. He could never fear Evan. "Why does it matter who my mate is?"
"It does!" Evan growled again. "And do they treat you right? Because if they don't then I would like to have a word with them! No, I'd like to fight them!"
"I don't think you'll win if you fought against my alpha. He's powerful," Tommy informed him.
"I don't care." Evan's eyes flashed gold again. "I will fight him for you. Where is he?"
Tommy's heart was bursting with all the love in the world for this lovable idiot. He couldn't help but chuckle at how silly his mate was being.
"I can't let you fight him. I love him too much," Tommy told him, playing along.
Evan pouted at him in return. "Does he at least treat you well? He's not mean to you, is he?"
"He treats me like a king," Tommy replied and sat down on an empty stool.
Evan sat down beside him, still pouting, and wiped away fresh tears. "You deserve to be treated like a princess, though."
Tommy chuckled and shook his head. "I guess he treats me like a princess, too."
"Why did you have to be so perfect and not mine?" Evan whined turned around in his seat, going back to cry on Chimney's shoulder.
Chimney took out his phone and started recording Evan. "It's okay, brother-in-law, we'll find you another omega."
"I don't want another omega. I want him," Buck said pointing over at Tommy.
"But I'm sure we can find you a different omega. How about that one?"
Tommy looked over to where Hen was pointing and burst out laughing. "Pretty sure that's a wooden pole."
"Don't you call Buck's future omega a wooden pole!" Hen huffed.
"No, that's a literal wooden pole you're pointing at. How drunk are you people?" Tommy asked. "Eddie looks like he's passed out over there."
"Oh no, he isn't passed out. He's crying because he doesn't have an alpha," Chimney informed him.
That tugged at Tommy's heart. He got off his stool and went over to Eddie. "Hey, buddy, you okay there?"
Eddie looked up and a huge grin spread across his lips, although his cheeks were tear-stained. "Tommy!"
Tommy cupped the back of Eddie's head and smiled at him. "You okay?"
"No! I want an alpha, Tommy. I am very lonely," Eddie replied, pouting at him.
"We'll find you, someone, Eddie!" Hen chimed in. "How about that one?"
"That's still a wooden pole, Hen," Tommy sighed.
"Don't call Eddie's future alpha a wooden pole!" Hen chastised him again.
Eddie shrugged at that. "I'll take a wooden pole at this point."
"WAIT! EDDIE! YOU'RE MATED TO MY BEST FRIEND?!" Evan practically yelled and jumped off the stool to come stand next to them. "I can't fight him!"
"Eddie's an omega, Evan, and I am mated to an alpha. I am mated to you, you dumbass," Tommy informed him and rolled his eyes. He kept running his fingers through Eddie's hair.
"What?" Evan's face softened and his blue eyes widened. "Really?"
"Yes," Tommy replied and shook his head.
Evan's eyes filled with tears again and he went over to Chimney and started crying. "Tommy's my omega! How did I get so lucky? I mean, he's so pretty and sweet, and everything I never thought I would get. I don't deserve him."
Tommy's heart hurt a little hearing that. "Evan," he sighed and moved away from Eddie. He went over to Evan and pulled him up. Cupping Evan's cheeks, he looked him in the eyes and said, "You deserve the world and more, Evan Buckley."
Evan sniffled and threw his arms around Tommy, pulling him into a hug. "You're perfect, Tommy, and I can't believe you're mine."
"Well, you better believe it," Tommy chuckled and hugged him back. "I love you, you lovable dumbass."
"So you're having my baby?" Evan asked pulling away from the hug.
Tommy took Evan's hand and put it on his stomach. "Yes, I am. And I will never let you live down the fact that you forgot me and our baby."
Evan pouted at him. "I don't expect you to."
Tommy leaned in and pecked Evan on the nose and then on the lips. "Good."
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imaginespazzi · 2 months ago
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Part 11: Free Fall
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 12
How many nights did you wish someone would stay? (Lie awake only hoping they're okay?)
(In which an angst writer makes her comeback in more ways than one)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint?
Words: 8.0K
TW: Swearing (that's probably it?)
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Y'all are the sweetest people ever for being so patient with me but it's finally here! I'm hoping that I don't put y'all through this again but it is almost finals season so...fingers crossed. While you read this chapter, I'd like y'all to keep in mind how much you love me and how much y'all wanted a new chapter and of course my favorite phrase: for the plot! I tried to edit but I hate reading my own work back and so it's not as thorough as it should be and there's probably typos so lemme know. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely week my angels!
May 2025 
It’s her first ever WNBA game -Dallas Wings vs Washington Mystics- and the first thing Paige notices as she steps onto the court is that the two courtside seats right by the Mystics bench are empty. The sound of music streaming through the speakers clashes against the raucous crowds; the lights are dimmed and there’s a riveting thrum of energy swirling the arena in anticipation for a generational talent’s professional debut. Paige has spent the days leading up to her first game immersed in basketball. Since training camps, she hasn’t let herself think of anything except how to make sure the ball went through the hoops, how to make sure the person in front of her didn’t score, how to win. 
It’s easier that way. Because then she doesn’t have to think about how empty and cold her bed feels at night, doesn’t have to think about how much she craves to press call on a number she knows she should have blocked, doesn’t have to think about how the pieces of her shattered world are barely bound together by a tape of pretend. Paige can’t think of any of that and so she’s spent every second awake, clearing her head of all potential distractions and focusing on preparing for this moment. 
Except, the moment is here now. 
And all Paige can fixate on is the empty courtside seats. 
The memories come back to her in waves; the two of them in those seats, pressed together -as close as it could be acceptable for their façade of best friends to be- as they weaved dreams of it being their turn on the professional stage. If she listens closely, Paige swears that amidst the chaos, she can still hear the echo of a promise that had once been made casually in conversation. 
“When you play here for the first time, I’ll be right here cheering you on. Every single time.”
Another broken promise. 
The truth is that the last few weeks as much as it’s felt like Paige is walking on a carpet of roses, there have been countless sharp thorns woven through the petals. She’s tried to avoid them -focusing on what she had, instead of what she’d lost- but they’d found a way to perforate through her skin anyways. And Paige knows she’s bleeding but she can’t scream, so she swallows the pain away instead. Memories of the past are piercing her feet and it feels like she’s leaving a trail of it feels incomplete without you behind her as she navigates the journey through her present, stepping towards a future that would be nothing like the one she’d imagined when she’d been a naive girl sitting in those courtside seats. 
The courtside seats that are empty tonight. 
Really it’s exactly what she should’ve expected. And there’s something so final about this moment, like the last flicker of a candle that had burned in secret. Paige hadn’t even realized she was still holding out for something but as she drags her eyes away from the seats and towards her father and brother who are practically vibrating with pride, she can feel the tautness of the string that she’d held onto. Because she hasn't told them; hasn’t told anybody about the breakup. 
Something about vocalizing it had felt just a little too real and Paige had evaded any potential situation that would warrant her having to reveal the tirth. But it hits her now, looking at those damn empty seats that should've been -in another life would’ve been- filled by her other family, that the words she’d been too scared to say out loud -for fear of them being enshrined into reality- had already probably been spoken into existence by someone else. And it hits Paige now, that maybe she’s desperately holding onto a rope that has already been let go of. 
“You good Bueckers?” she whirls around to find Arike looking at her, eyebrows raised in concern. 
“I’m fine,” Paige lies; she’s gotten so incredibly good at that, “just thinking a lot of thoughts.”
Arike nods in understanding, “fair enough. But you got this dude,” she reaches out a hand to squeeze her rookie’s shoulder, “whatever you’re thinking, when you get on that court, none of it’s gonna matter. All that matters for 40 minutes is the game and that we come out of it with a win. You gonna help us win Paige?”
“That’s the fucking plan,” Paige smirks, earning her a matching one from Arike before the shooting guard saunters onto the court, ready for tip-off.
All that matters is the game. 
Paige sucks in a deep breath, letting herself look over at the courtside seats one more time. This is her reality now. There’s no point in waiting for a regretful phone call or a surprise midnight knock on her door because it’s not going to happen. She feels a sense of hollowed acceptance as she finally turns away from the seats, plastering on a confident smile as she takes her place in the Dallas Wings starting five. And Paige is faced with the same truth that she’d learned at a far too young age; that people would leave her but the game never would. 
***
Dallas wins the game by 17 points. Paige’s statline is 21 points, 6 rebounds and 8 assists with 2 steals and a block. It’s a respectable statement from the rookie and her teammates are overjoyed. She’s surrounded by them as they celebrate winning their first game of the season and there’s a sense of hopeful excitement about how the rest of the season could go. Her eyes go over the top of them to find the cute Dallas local reporter that Paige had befriended shooting her a congratulatory wink and she blushes a little bit, looking away bashfully. In the distance, Paige can make out a small crowd of people decked in custom Wings #5 jersey, whistling in excitement. Despite the home fans, their celebration still echoes around the stadium and the loudest cheer comes from her brother who stands next to her father, both of them beaming with pride. And It’s almost enough to prevent her eyes from wandering back to the empty courtside seats. Almost. 
***
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. With the quick transition from the college season into the draft, Paige hadn’t had found time to go home inbetween. And so when the Wings had been making hotel arrangements for DC, she’d opted to stay with her dad and Drew in Maryland instead. But as she stands in the doorway to her bedroom, staring at a wall filled with pictures that are an ode to the past - collages that are practically a shrine to her broken relationship- Paige finds herself longing for the cold, unfeeling exterior of a foreign hotel room. 
Paige’s life can be split into two parts. There’s the Before Azzi and then there’s the With Azzi. And the truth is that there isn’t much from the Before Azzi left in Paige’s life. Every inch of her current life has been touched by the brunette, illuminated by her presence and now, it’s tainted by her absence. Especially in Maryland. Since she’d met the Virginia native, the DMV area had always been synonymous with the Fudds for Paige and she can’t remember a time when she’d been here -when she’d been in this bedroom- and not had plans to see them- to see Azzi. 
She takes a hesitant step inside, eyes gliding over each photograph and it’s like she’s being transported through time. The memories are as vivid as ever, bursting with color as they ellipse her mind. Paige can picture every moment like she’d lived it yesterday. She can still hear their laughter echoing through the air, can feel the softness of their hands -their bodies- brushing against each other, can still taste the lingering sweetness of their lips meeting halfway as they breathed silent promises against each other’s skin. 
A silent sob wracks through Paige’s body as she brushes her fingers over the most recent image of them from December -the last photograph she’d had time to print out. It’s one that Drew had taken of them in the kitchen- Paige propped up on the counter and Azzi in between her legs, one hand on the counter with the other resting right against Paige’s heart. Neither of them had even noticed the little boy, too wrapped up in each other; they were in their own world like they often had been. Azzi’s head is thrown back in laughter -probably at some ridiculous joke her girlfriend had cracked- and Paige has that goofy - just for Azzi- grin on her face as she gazes at the brunette with nothing but adoration. 
The picture is from barely six months ago but they look so young to Paige, so innocent, so naive, so fucking happy, so completely unaware that in a couple of months, one hesitantly spoken word would dissolve that happiness into a puddle of rubble. 
No. 
She thinks that one simple word is destined to echo through her ears, like that unpleasant screech of nails scratching against a chalkboard, for as long as she still has the ability to hear. Paige hadn’t even really heard it at first; it had been said so softly, so quietly, so brokenly and she’d barely seen Azzi’s lips move. For the briefest moment she’d tricked her mind into believing it was just the sound of the wind around them. But then there it was again. 
Louder. 
Stronger. 
No.
Paige’s hands instinctively clasp around her ears, fingers tangling tightly through her blond hair, because she can still fucking hear it. Here in this bedroom, where every corner still holds a little part of Azzi -holds a little part of them- the sting of rejection is louder than it’s been since it had first hit. Because it’s not just the pictures. It’s all the little pieces of them they’d left scattered over Christmas break, thinking they’d come back to it together.
 It’s a set of Azzi’s earrings -one Paige vaguely remembers picking out for her when they’d gone shopping a couple of weeks before- placed delicately on Paige’s dresser. It’s the pink sweater -that neither of them are sure who it originally belongs to but like most of their clothes, is basically a shared item at this point- haphazardly thrown over a chair. It’s that stupid book they’d started reading together -Paige lying across her girlfriend’s lap, toying with her curls as Azzi read the story out loud- still lying on the nightstand, waiting to be finished. 
Despite being alone in her room, Paige finds herself rapidly shaking her head. Because she can’t do this. Can’t spend a night in this room that had barely ever been just hers, had always felt more like theirs. She can’t sleep on that bed, no when her last memory of it is being tangled in the sheets with Azzi on a cold wintry morning, their legs intertwined with each other as they’d giggled to themselves in between languid lazy kisses. And maybe it’s pathetic of her but she can’t find it in herself to unmake the bed, not when her last memory of the two of them in this room is her leaning against the wall, shamelessly checking out her girlfriend as Azzi neatly made the bed, chiding Paige for the nth time on the importance of tidiness. 
“When are you gonna learn how to make your bed,” Azzi had sighed. 
Grinning, Paige had wrapped her arms around her girlfriend from behind, slotting her face into the crevice of Azzi’s neck and brushing her lips against the patch of skin, “I know how to make my bed. I just never have to because I’ll always have you to do it for me.”
Except for the last few weeks, Paige has had to make her own bed and she fucking hates it. 
Breathing sharply, Paige slowly backs out of her bedroom, gently pulling the door shut. She leans her forehead against the cool mahogany frame, trying to calm herself down. There’s been a nonstop dull ache in her chest since that night but tonight feels different, like the cold hands of the past have managed to dig under her ribcage and squeeze her heart  -something sharp digging into her arteries- so hard that it hurts just to exist. Paige gives herself a couple more seconds, creating half-moons as she digs her nails into her palms, before she finally pulls away from the door, heading towards her brother’s room down the hall. 
“You know you really should start knocking before you come into my room,” Drew says with a mock annoyance that’s betrayed by his large grin, as Paige slips into his room, “I’m almost a teenager.”
Despite the heaviness that’s still lingering between her lungs, Paige suddenly finds it a lot easier to breathe. Her little brother’s bedroom is dark, save for red LED lights and dim glow of the TV. Drew is reclined on his bed, gripping a white gaming controller between his hands. 
“You’re always gonna be a baby to me Drewski,” she teases, stepping towards him to ruffle his hair, laughing when he ducks her hand and shoots her an irritated glare in response. 
“Not the hair,” he whines and then groans as his eyes flicker back to the screen, towards the game he'd been playing, “damnit Paigey you just got me killed.”
“Hey hey hey, don’t blame me for your incompetence,” Paige chides. 
Drew rolls his eyes, before reaching over to hand over the other controller, “you wanna play?”
Paige shakes her head, gently pushing his hand away, “nah I just-” she chews at her bottom lip, shuffling her feet with uncharacteristic nervousness, “I was just uh- just wondering if I could stay in here tonight? We could have a sleepover? Like old times? Just you and me.”
It’s heartwarming the way her little bother’s eyes light up -like he’s still the little boy that used to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, not almost a teenager who’ll eventually be taller than her- as he nods excitedly, scooching over to give his older sister space on his bed. Paige crawls gingerly onto the bed, hesitating for a second, before she lays her head on her brother’s lap, curling into herself. Drew is warm and inviting and familiar and for a second she almost forgets that serrated pain shooting through her nerves. But then it all comes rushing back and Paige has to swallow harshly to keep herself from giving into the fresh new set of tears that are re-emerging on her waterline. 
“Paigey,” Drew whispers softly as he runs his finger through her delicate blonde hair, clearly sensing something’s wrong, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine Drew,” she means to keep her voice strong but it comes out as broken as she feels. 
“Paigey,” the little boy’s voice is more worried now, “should I call Azzi?” 
This time the whimper escapes before Paige can stop it as she tightly closes her eyes. She knows her brother means well; knows that Drew doesn’t really remember Paige without Azzi- doesn’t remember a time before his sister knew how to heal without the brunette’s touch. He’d watched Paige celebrate all her victories with Azzi and he’d seen the same girl hold his sister in all her tragedies, putting her back together every time she broke with promises of you’ll have always have me. From the moment Drew was old enough to understand his sister’s feelings, he was also perceptive enough to understand that Azzi was always what she needed, no matter how she was feeling. And it’s still true, Paige thinks; she wants nothing more than to say yes, wants nothing more than for Drew to call Azzi, so Paige can tell her how much she fucking misses her- how much she fucking needs her. 
Perhaps it's pride or maybe it’s fear, but Paige doesn’t say what she wants. Instead she vigorously shakes her head in her brother’s lap, “n-no it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s late and Azzi’s busy-”
“Azzi’s never too busy for you,” Drew says indignantly, “I’m gonna call her.”
“Drew stop,” Paige’s voice is much firmer this time as she wraps a strong arm around her little brother’s knee, stopping him from moving, “we’re not calling Azzi.”
She could tell him now. After all, she’s going to have to when he inevitably asks why he hasn’t seen Azzi -why he hasn’t seen the girl who’s been a part of his life for more than half of it- in so long. But even though the words sit scratchily on the tip of her tongue, she still isn’t quite ready to spit them out; isn’t quite ready to confront reality. 
“Why not,” petulance coats Drew’s tone. 
“Because I’m fine and I don’t need- I don’t want to talk to her,” Paige lies. 
The little boy scoffs, “you always want to talk to her.”
He doesn’t know the way that simple sentence turns the cracked pieces of Paige’s heart into dust as she tightens her grips on his leg, “Drew please- please just let it go.”
“Why,” Drew argues stubbornly, “why can’t we call her.”
“We just-” Paige’s voice breaks, as she scrambles to wipe her tears before they can wet her little brother’s shirt, “we just can’t okay?”
And there must be something in her voice -the anguish that no amount of trying is able to hide- that Drew pieces together to understand that this isn’t a battle he can win, no matter how much he and Paige might both want him to. The young boy slowly droops his body back to its reclining position, his fingers returning back to Paige’s hair as he begins to stroke her head again. 
“It’s gonna be okay Paigey,” he whispers with all the hopeful innocence of a blissfully naive little boy, “everything gonna be okay.”
And god does Paige want to believe him. But the courtside seats were empty tonight. And she’s in the DMV with no plans to see the Fudds- to see Azzi. And she’ll never know the ending to that stupid book on her bedside table. 
She wants to believe Drew but Paige isn’t sure how anything’s ever going to be okay again. 
***
May 2033 
It should be a joyful moment -the three most important people in her life congregating together- but instead as Paige quietly observes the scene in her living room -Drew silently seething, Azzi fidgeting nervously with her thumbs and Stephie babbling away amidst it all- she feels suffocated by this heavy gray cloud of apprehension lingering above her head. If she’s honest with herself, she’s been on edge for a couple of days now, since training camp had begun to be precise. Since she’d moved to the Bay Area, everything else in Paige’s world had been eclipsed by Azzi and Stephie. The mother-daughter duo were all-consuming and if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been more than happy to let her thoughts -and her heart- be consumed by nothing but the two of them. 
It had been so easy to forget everything else and the tentative verbal three-way deal she technically had with the Valkyries and the Liberty had pretty much ceased to exist in her thoughts. That is until Angie Davis -the lynchpin in this agreement- had been selected, just as everyone had predicted, to the Valkyries. The Stanford PG had shown up to training camp with a shy smile and an eagerness to learn that all the rest of the vets on the team had warmly embraced. But all Paige saw in the girl was the ticking time bomb of a decision she’d forgotten she’d have to make. And it isn’t just the reminder of the decision that has Paige feeling at unease; it’s why she has to make this decision in the first place, the reason behind why she’d agreed to this deal in the first play, why she’d been so adamant for Talia to make sure she didn’t get stuck here. 
Eight years ago, Azzi Fudd had broken her heart and Paige has spent every moment since, trying to collect the shattered pieces and reassemble them. 
And the last thing Paige had wanted to do was give Azzi the hammer to smash her barely fixed heart again. 
That’s what it had felt like when Talia had first brought up the Valkyries offer. It wasn’t that she and Azzi hadn’t been in each other’s orbit the last couple of years -it was impossible not to- but since the breakup, they’d never been around each other long enough, never quite been in the right situations, for that opportunity to present itself again. But Paige had known that if she came to the Valkyries, it would be an inevitability. That belief had only been strengthened the day she’d visited the Bay Area. She’d been adamant from the second she’d gotten on the flight that she couldn’t be persuaded to join Golden State, no matter how much she respected the organization and how well she’d fit into their system; no matter how much she adored the city and its love for her favorite sport.
But then she’d met a little girl who had an identical smile to the one that had held her captive since she was fifteen and barely knew what love was. And if Stephie with her doe-eyed wisdom that Paige would look great in purple wasn’t enough, then there was Azzi. Paige had expected Azzi to tell her to decline the offer. In a way that’s what she wanted; the masochistic need to feel the sting of that rejection again so she wouldn’t be tempted to burn herself in the fire again. But the brunette had done the opposite and Paige had known by just how quick her resolve had succumbed, that she’d been right to fear the inevitability. And it was that fear that had prompted the verbal agreement with the Liberty; an escape plan she’d forgotten she’d devised. 
Because escaping had been the last thing on Paige’s mind the last few weeks. 
All of Paige’s fears and apprehension had seemed to take a backseat the moment Azzi had smiled -hesitant but real- and said she was ready to try, the moment Stephie’s tiny hands had fit perfectly into her own. 
But she can feel it all coming back now, bubbling to the surface and threatening to spill over like lava, wiping out this paradise she’s been in with Stephie and Azzi. It had started with the reminder of the Liberty deal but it’s Drew’s presence -his scowl directed at Azzi that feels like one of a brother still betrayed on his sister’s behalf- that had heightened it. Her little brother’s anger, and the genuine hurt that lingers behind it, feels like a dark reminder of Paige’s own heartbreak. 
Suddenly she feels like she’s 23, playing her first WNBA game and instead of celebrating a solid debut, she’s sobbing in her little brother’s lap over the girl who had walked away. 
“Miss Buecks,” Paige looks down to find Stephie crawling into her lap, “are we ready to order the pizza now?”
The little girl’s arms wrapping around her neck eases some of Paige’s discomfort as she smiles down at Stephie. 
“I’ve been ready for ages. You were the one yapping away,” she teases. 
Stephie pouts, “I don’t yap,” she turns her body towards Azzi, “Mama I don’t yap do I?”
Azzi’s own tense body seems to relax a little as she smirks at the two of them, “you definitely yap Stephie-”
“Mama,” Stephie protests, looking betrayed. 
“But not nearly as much as your Miss Buecks yaps,” Azzi’s eyes twinkle with mirth as Paige splutters, jaw dropping open with mock offense, “between the two of you, it’s a miracle my poor ears haven’t fallen off.”
“Just for that I’m not adding veggies to the pizza,” Paige sticks her tongue out, causing Stephie to giggle and Azzi to roll her eyes at the display of immaturity. 
Paige slips out her phone, pulling up their usual pizza place on doordash and quickly plugs in her memorized orders for everyone in the room as Stephie gets herself comfortable on the blonde’s lap. The five-year old leans her head back against Paige’s chest, who instinctively wraps her free hand around Stephie’s waist, keeping her securely in place. 
“So uncle Drew,” Stephie says with a grin, slightly leaning forward as she addresses the man sitting rigidly on the edge of the sofa, “did Miss Buecks yap a lot when she was younger too.”
“Be careful how you answer that,” Paige warns with a good natured glare in her brother’s direction, trying to lighten his mood. 
It works to an extent as a small smirk slips onto the edges of Drew’s lip, “oh she was a chronic yapper.”
“What does che-ronic mean?” Stephie asks, scrunching her nose in confusion.
Drew laughs, eyes glittering with mischief, “it means she didn’t know when to shut up.”
“Drew Thomas,” Paige guffaws, “you’re supposed to be my little brother, protecting your older sister’s honor and all of that.”
“Hey,” Drew raises his hand in surrender, “my older sister taught me to never lie, especially not to children.”
“Did you really talk that much?” Stephie asks, turning to Paige with wide eyes. 
“Don’t listen to him Stephie-bean,” the blonde says, brushing her hands through Stephie’s curls, “it’s all bullsh-”
“Paige,” Azzi hisses immediately as the older woman bites her lip to stop the curse word from escaping. 
“Bullsharks,” Paige amends, “fake news. False advertising. I was a calm and quiet kid for sure.”
Drew snorts, leaning back into the sofa and Paige lets out a soft sigh of relief at seeing her brother relax. Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, feeling a sense of calmness when she sees the younger girl’s nervous fidgeting has stilled and there’s a tentative smile on her face. 
 “You weren’t calm or quiet,” he says pointedly. 
“Was too,” Paige argues stubbornly. 
“Yes you were,” Drew presses, “Stephie if you don’t believe me, ask your Mama,” he turns to Azzi, “tell her Azzi. She literally yapped your ear off into becoming your friend.”
Azzi blanches, clearly shocked at having been so cavalierly addressed, and even Paige is a little surprised by the expectant “agree with me look” that Drew is giving the brunette after having spent the last moments practically glaring at her. But really it probably shouldn’t be that surprising. Because Drew and Paige are cut from the same material and letting Azzi into the folds seems to just come naturally to both of them. And it’s so familiar to when they’d all been years and years younger -two college students and a little boy - so familiar to the countless nights spent in Minnesota and DC and Connecticut where several silly arguments like this between Paige and Drew had ultimately ended with them both turning to Azzi -the forever moderator- in hopes that she’d side with them. 
She’d always sided with Drew -much to Paige’s chagrin, though she’d been secretly enamored by the relationship between her girlfriend and her brother- and this time is no different as Azzi shakes off the shock, replacing it with a cheeky expression. 
“Didn’t shut up for 14 whole hours,” she laments, her voice filled with teasing but she smiles at the blonde as if she’s reminiscing it, reminiscing the moment that began it all for them and Paige can’t help the hopelessly sappy smile she gives her in return. 
“14 hours? You talked for 14 whole hours, Miss Buecks?” Stephie’s eyes are comically large as she echoes the number. 
“Of course not,” Paige defends, eyebrows creasing as she glares at the other two adults in the room, “this is bullying. Stephie,” she whines, nuzzling her head into the little girl’s neck, “they’re ganging up on me.”
“There there Miss Buecks,” Stephie says diligently as she pats at the older woman’s cheek. 
“We’re just telling the truth,” Drew shrugs. 
“Exactly,” Azzi nods solemnly, “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
She grins, reaching her hand out for a high five and Paige watches as Drew raises his own hand, ready to reciprocate. For a second it feels like everything is coming together; like the past could just stay in the past. But then he stops midair. The easy smile fades from his face and the previous tautness comes rushing back. He pulls his hand back, turning away from Azzi, who’s face slowly falls back. The lightheartedness from mere seconds ago is replaced by the tension from before and that burden of all that’s happened between us returns as a heavy weight pressed against Paige’s heart. 
“Paigey used to yap a lot,” Drew says slowly, “like I said you couldn’t get her to shut up and then one day,” he pauses, angry eyes darting towards Azzi, “one day she just got quiet- she shut up- she stopped yapping all the time.”
“Why?” Stephie asks softly, her tone a mixture of concern and genuine curiosity. 
Paige’s arm tightens around the little girl in her lap as she shoots her brother a pleading look, “Drew-”
“Because someone-” there’s so much venom in the word that it makes Azzi visibly flinch and Paige wants to soothe away the creases forming in her forehead, “someone broke her heart. And it took years- it took years to get her back to normal, to get her yapping again. To get my sister back to who she was.”
There’s pindrop silence as Drew seethes at his own words and Azzi rapidly blinks back tears, until Stephie turns around in Paige’s lap, tiny hands cupping the blonde’s face as she tries not to let her emotions show in front of the little girl. 
“Someone broke your heart?” Stephie looks so upset by the idea that Paige wants to vehemently deny it, “how could anyone break your heart Miss Buecks?”
She means well -just a child concerned for one of her favorite people- but she has no idea of the dagger she’s just twisted in her own mother’s heart as a faint whimper escapes Azzi’s lips. Paige opens and closes her mouth, hopelessly looking at the brunette who’s digging her fist into the sofa, despair embedded all over her face. 
“Stephie-” Paige tries to say. 
“Don’t worry kid,” Drew cuts in instead, his voice steady and firm, “it happened once but I won’t-” his eyes burn with fire as he looks at Azzi, “I won’t let it happen again.”
“Stephie,” Paige says quietly after a moment, her gaze transfixed on Azzi whose doing her absolute best not to let her emotions show in front of her little girl, “sweetheart how ‘bout you show Uncle Drew around the house.”
“I don’t want to see the house,” Drew says petulantly as he stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest
“Yes. You. Do.” Paige grits out, trying not to curse when her younger brother rolls his eyes at her. 
“C’mon Uncle Drew,” Stephie says cheerfully as she slips off of Paige’s lap and reaches a hand out for the man instead, “Miss Buecks has a really cool house and maybe we can go steal some of her cool clothes.”
Drew sighs but he’s not immune to Stephie’s infectious energy. A hint of a grin sneaks through the cracks as he accepts the little girl’s offer. Stephie starts to pull him towards the staircase but the perceptive girl stops for a second in front of her mother, a cautious look on her face as Azzi musters up a grin to mollify the little girl's concern and Drew adamantly averts looking at the other woman. 
“Go on bean,” Azzi urges softly, keeping her shaky voice under control, “go show him the house.”
Stephie nods before gently pressing her lips against Azzi’s cheeks, eliciting a deep breath from her mother, before she practically drags Drew towards the staircase, already speaking a mile per minute.  
There’s a pause, filled with a combination of the quiet rumble of Stephie blabbering upstairs and Azzi’s uneven breathing. Then the tears that the brunette had been trying so hard to barricade behind her eyelids starts cascading down her cheeks and Paige almost trips on her own feet as she moves towards her. She falls to her knees in front of Azzi, gently brushing her against her cheek, before wrapping her hands around her tightly formed fists. 
“Baby don’t cry. Please I hate it when you cry,” Paige whispers softly, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s, “he’s just-”
“He’s right,” Azzi cuts her off, shaking her head. 
“Az-”
“He hates me-”
“He doesn’t-”
“He does,” Azzi presses, her tears falling faster now, “and he should. Paige I did break your heart,” they both flinch at the blunt statement, “and he doesn’t trust me because of it and he hasn’t forgiven me for it. I haven’t forgiven me for it.”
“Baby,” Paige echoes again, unsure what else to say. 
“Have you forgiven me?” 
The question lingers in the air as Azzi looks expectantly at her and Paige stumbles over her words, trying to find the right ones. She doesn’t really know how to answer the questions; hadn’t been expecting to be confronted with it tonight. Paige wants to say yes; she wants to take away Azzi’s guilt so fucking bad. These last few weeks had been so perfect, Paige had convinced herself she was over what had happened almost a decade ago. But if she’s honest with herself -if she’s honest to the memories of every night she’d spent sobbing into her pillows, missing the girl in front of her and resenting her for walking away- Paige doesn’t really know if she has forgiven Azzi. 
“Paige?” Azzi ask again, her voice breaking on the one syllable. 
Paige’s face crumbles as she looks at the girl defenselessly, “ Az, I-”
The doorbell rings at the exact moment and Stephie comes excitedly barrelling down the staircase as the two women scramble away from each other, trying to compose themselves. 
“Miss Buecks, Mama,” the younger girl hollers, “pizza’s here.”
Paige looks at Azzi who’s rushing to wipe away the remnants of her tears. She opens her mouth, desperately willing herself to find something, anything that could offer the girl in front of her some comfort; that could take their relationship away from the precipice of this cliff they’ve somehow found themselves on. But the right words don’t materialize and instead Paige closes her mouth and turns away, slowly heading towards Stephie as Azzi’s question continues to wreak havoc in her mind. 
And she wishes she could rewind the clock and freeze them where they had been just a couple of hours ago, freeze them in a moment where the past hadn’t weighed so heavily on the present. But perhaps the past had always been there and they’d simply just done a marvelous job ignoring it. Except tonight, they can’t seem to ignore it anymore. 
***
Paige thinks pizza has never tasted so terrible in her life. The mood at her basically unused dining table is numbingly sober; even Stephie has stopped her chatter, the little girl clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere around her as she quietly nibbles away at her slice of pizza. It’s in stark contrast to the innumerable dinners they’d had in the last three weeks; the three of them -Paige, Azzi and Stephie in between them- at the table or the counter or sometimes even the couch, raucous with laughter and smiles. Paige doesn’t understand how moments can shift like this; how last night could have been filled with giggles and grins and tonight is filled with nothing but a silence filled with too many unspoken words.
Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, who’s making a concerted effort to keep her own everted from both Bueckers siblings. The brunette’s question from before feels like a loud horn blaring in Paige’s ears, one that she can’t seem to find the off-switch for no matter how hard she searches for it. They’re barely a couple feet apart, sitting opposite each other with Drew next to Paige and Stephie next to Azzi, but the width of the table feels like it stretches for miles. Paige misses the warmth of Azzi’s body pressed against hers, misses the sly brush of their hands before their fingers would inevitably curl around each other’s underneath the table where Stephie couldn’t see. 
“Miss Buecks,” Paige swallows, trying to shake off the feeling of is this us crumbling again, as she diverts attention to Stephie who’s smiling at her with that cheeky grin that means she wants something. 
“What’s up Stephie-bean?” Paige asks and she’s convinced there’s magic in the little girl’s existence because despite the tightness she still feels in her chest, having Stephie close feels like a reason for her to breathe through it. 
“Can I have a soda?” Stephie asks, using the palm of her hands to frame her slightly tilted face as she juts out her bottom lip in a pleading. 
Paige grins, ready to concede as she often is with the little girl but Azzi speaks first, “no soda Stephie.”
Stephie pouts, “why not?”
“Because I said so,” Azzi says bluntly and Paige is taken back by the sharpness of it. 
“Mama please,” Stephie begs, “please, please, please.”
“No Stephie,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s tone but Stephie doesn’t pay much heed to it continuing to plead and the irritation on her mother’s face -clearly exacerbated by other things- gets more and more apparent. 
“Please Mama. Pizza just doesn’t go down right without soda,” the little girl argues, “can I please just have a little bit. Just a teeny tiny bit Please, please pretty please please-”
“Stephie, no” Azzi repeats, pinching the bridge of her nose as Drew and Paige exchange nervous glances. 
“Stephie, yes,” the little girl argues, stubbornly crossing her hands over her chest. 
“Ste-”
“I want soda. I want soda. Please, please, please, plea-”
“I said no Stephanie,” Azzi all but yells, startling Stephie into being quiet and making both Drew and Paige flinch. The little girl is wide-eyed for a second -not used to anything but her mother’s normally gentle way of dealing with her occasional brattiness- before her lips begin to tremble and big fat tears begin to spill down her cheeks. She scrambles out of her chair, beelining towards Paige and climbing onto her lap as she burrows her face into the blonde’s neck, wetting her shirt with tears. 
“Shhh, shhh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige whispers to the little girl, gently rocking the two of them back and forth as she strokes her hair. 
She glances at Azzi, who’s adamantly looking, her face stone cold but regret gleaming in her eyes, “Az-”
“No,” the younger woman says immediately. 
“C’mon,” Paige says exasperatedly, “you don’t even know what I was gonna say.”
“If it’s about giving her a soda, I don’t wanna hear it,” Azzi warns, “you can’t just give into all of her demands all the time, you have to learn to say no and she needs to learn to hear it.”
“I hear you but Az it’s a Friday-”
“Paige-”
“A tiny bit of soda to start the weekend can’t hurt. In fact,” Paige smirks down at the little girl in her lap as she coaxes Stephie’s face out of her neck so she can wipe away the tears on her blotchy red face, “I think a little soda to start the weekend is probably good for you.”
She feels her heart soar when it makes Stephie giggle, letting out a couple teary hiccoughs in between as she clutches onto Paige. 
“I think so too Mama,” the little girl echoes, looking back at her mother with a timid grin. 
“Give in Azzi,” Paige matches the pleading smile on Stephie’s face as she turns her focus onto the brunette, “she deserves a little treat 
“I know what she deserves. I think I know what’s good for my daughter,” Azzi says steely and Paige feels something cold squeezing through her ribcage, “no soda Stephie. End of discussion.”
My daughter. 
The thing is Paige doesn’t even really think she has the right to be upset over Azzi’s statements. Really, it’s nothing but the truth. Stephie is Azzi’s daughter and Azzi definitely knows what’s good for her daughter. So why does it sting like this? Why does it feel like little shards of ice piercing into her heart, leaving deep gashes that have her whole body feeling like it’s freezing over? Paige knows why, knows that these past weeks had been enough to trick her mind into believing the mirage that Stephie was hers. But now Azzi’s flicked her fingers against it causing the whole fantasy to come crashing down and Paige feels herself slowly getting buried under the rubble of it. 
“Right," she says softly, trying to keep her voice steady, “she’s your daughter and you know best,” she ignores the tinge of guilt in Azzi’s eyes as she turns to Stephie who looks like she’s ready to protest again, “you heard your Mama Stephie. No soda tonight.”
“But Miss Buecks-” Stephie whines. 
“No sweetheart,” Paige says gently, shaking her head. 
The little girl narrows her eyes before letting out a frustrated groan as she slips off of Paige’s lap. She loudly stomps her feet, glaring at all the adults in the room before she angrily storms upstairs. It’s so unlike the usually even-keeled little girl that Paige thinks it’s probably a reaction to the tension she can sense between the adults. Her eyes drift over Drew -who’s chewing at his lips in a similar manner to how his big sister often does- before locking with Azzi’s and she feels that familiar guilt of there’s always collateral damage for our mistakes pooling at the pit of her stomach. The brunette breaks eye contact first, letting out a heavy sigh before she follows behind her daughter and Paige lets her face fall into her hands, 
It feels like everything’s in free fall, like during an earthquake when everything shakes and the books -the complicatedly tangled stories of the past and present- go flying from their shelves. Paige rubs at her eyelids, trying to make this helpless feeling go away. Her fingers are coiled tightly around a rope, just like they had been on that night eight years ago and just like that night, she can feel the tips of them starting to bleed. She can feel Drew’s gaze fixated on her; can tell he’s contemplating whether to say something or not. Swallowing, Paige pulls her face out of her palms to look at her brother, a decisively defiant expression on her face. 
“Something you wanna say?” she asks him, cocking her eyebrows as if she’s daring him to speak. 
Drew hesitates for a second before an almost identical expression crosses his face, “what the fuck are you doing Paige?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige replies airly. 
Drew narrows his eyes at her, “seriously?”
“Seriously,” Paige shrugs. 
“This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement Paige,” Drew says, ignoring the way his sister flinches at the reminder as he drops his voice lower so they can’t be overheard, “you were supposed to be with Golden State for one season, hopefully win a championship and then you’d be off to New York at the end. That was the plan but clearly all of that has gone flying out the window. You’re getting attached to this city, this life, to them.” 
A barely believable “of course I’m not,” flutters weakly off of Paige’s lip as she blinks rapidly at the accusation. 
“Oh for fucks sake,” Drew curses, “Paige your bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in, in days. There’s almost no groceries in your fridge or your pantry. From what I saw of the garden, it’s basically been left for dead. Your closet is half empty and it sure as shit isn’t because they’re all in the laundry because as Stephie puts it, Azzi says that their laundry basket is three times heavier than it used to be with all your clothes.”
“I-I don’t-” Paige stutters, “that- that doesn’t- doesn’t mean-”
“It’s been two months -if even that- two months Paige and I think you're in even deeper now than you were the last time,” Drew spits the last two words out bitterly like their flames on the tip of his tongue and the sparks of it singe Paige’s skin. 
“That’s not- I’m not-” she tries to justify but it sounds hollow to her own ears. 
“You are,” Drew says exasperatedly, “what are you gonna do when she walks away again? When she lets you go again, what are you gonna do Paige?”
Her little brother isn’t cruel but Paige swears she’s never heard anything more aimed to hurt than these perfectly directed arrows he’s launching straight at her heart. The defense of she’s not going to leave me stays stuck in her throats, battling against the harsh thoughts of she already has that are taunting her. 
“She- I- you- this- I don’t- you can’t-” Paige doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say; she feels like a fish spluttering outside of the water, desperate to breathe air that seems to kill her the more she inhales it. 
Drew looks away, his face crumpling slightly, a mixture of sadness and guilt gleaming in his eyes, and Paige can tell that he hates himself a little for being the one to cause her this torment, the one to make her face the darkest possibility of her reality. 
“I was there Paige,” he says softly, “I was the one who watched you break in ways that I didn’t even think you were breakable,” his voice snaps, “and I was the one who watched how hard you had to work to put yourself back together. I don’t wanna see any of that again.”
“Drew,” Paige whispers. 
“And it wasn’t just her,” Drew continues, “you lost her family too.”
Paige gulps at the reminder, “they were still there. They came to games. They were at my wedding.”
Drew shakes his head, “but it wasn’t the same and you know it. You lost her and you lost them and this time,” he bites his lip, like he wishes the next words weren’t sitting on his vocal chords, waiting to spill out, “this time, if you lose her, you’ll lose a lot more.”
“What do you-” Paige heistates, unsure if she even wants to ask, “what do you mean?”
Her little brother pauses, mouth opening and closing like it’s painful to speak, before his eyes drift towards the stairs and Paige feels her heart sinking even before Drew says the words she knows he’s about to say. 
“You’ll lose her daughter. You’ll lose Stephie.”
“No,” the whispered syllable is out before Paige can even stop it, “no, no, no, no-”
“Paige-”
“Stop it Drew,” the blonde says louder than she wanted to as she clutches at her heart, trying to keep it whole as the tears overflow over her waterline. 
“Stop what Paige? Stop saying things you already know deep down but are choosing to ignore? Is that what you want me to stop doing?” Drew asks harshly. 
“Drew-”
“There’s a reason you didn’t want to commit to the Valkyries and you know it. There’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season.” her younger brother says firmly. 
“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know.”
Drew’s eyes soften, “stick to plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”
Paige bites her lip so hard, she can taste that morbid taste of iron on her lips as she opens her mouth to say something. She’s not sure if it’s to argue with Drew or to agree and she doesn’t get a chance to find out. Instead there’s a sharp intake of breath and then a quiet, timid voice laced with accusation and Paige feels the blood drain out of her body as she slowly turns around to find Stephie and Azzi -their faces ashen with identical expressions of betrayal- staring at her. 
“Miss Buecks, you’re moving to New York?”
360 notes · View notes
cvnt4him · 6 months ago
Note
Emergency request bc I’m literally struggling so bad and feeling neglected as shit rn
ofc if you’re up to it pooks ik ur alr stressing over stuff and I don’t want to make it worse :(
Maybe some iida or monoma x reader that try’s hard to do stuff but always gets neglected? Thanks pooks 💕
I hope I got to this in enough time for you, I'm sorry for whatever you're going through n trust you're not making my situation any worse, you're actually helping me get rid of writers block so ty for this n I hope this reaches you well and is what you hoped for🫶🏽🫶🏽
mha boys x reader.
Included; izuku midoriya, kirishima ejirou, bakugou katsuki, tenya iida, monoma neito, denki kaminari.
Not in order.
Genre: angst? comfort/feel-good/fluff.
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Izuku midoriya is none other than a saint. He helps everyone around him and he strives to keep his good boy/golden boy title. You admire him for that and you know others do, you also know one day he'll not only be yours but belong to the world. It gets to you but you try so hard to not let it.
When you two started dating no one knew at first, but izuku couldn't just stand by and let people not know that you were his. That he finally had a girlfriend who thought he was worthy of love. You truly felt that he deserved to be loved and he felt so seen with you, more than anyone else had ever made him feel.
Sooner or later after people found out, people began giving you such disgusting looks. Mostly girls you noticed. They would whisper about you when you were alone and look at you with mean and disgusted looks and they would laugh at you while you walked. No matter what you did you always had eyes on you. People laughing at the way you ate or spoke or dressed, it was draining.
You knew why it was happening and you tried so hard not to let it get to you. But none of that could even begin to compare to once your friends found out the two of you were dating.
You walked into the girls locker room to see all of the girls standing in a circle, you had already heard through the door they were having a conversation however you didn't exactly try to make out what they were saying. They all turned to look at you before slowly looking away to continue dressing, the silence had gotten rather too loud for your liking. They were just having a conversation before, why stop now that you were there? It bugged you the wrong way but you didn't want to make a commotion.
"so you and midoriya?"
Mina questions looking you up and down with a pointed look. She was one of your best friends, why was she looking at you like you're being investigated in a murder?
"uh.. yeah! We're dating."
You confirmed turning away to finish undressing. She hummed sucking her teeth and crossing her arms.
"you're dating him.. whilst knowing ochako liked him the whole time?"
She instigates, trying to get you to admit something. What the hell? Why would she say this? It's not your fault ochako didn't confess to izuku in enough time. It's not your fault he agreed to date you. It's not your fault he wanted everyone to know, so why was she trying to grill you like it was?
"look. I don't know what you're trying to get out of me, but--"
"just that you're a backstabbing bitch."
Silence filled the room once more as you scoffed clearly offended. She and the other girls stared at you with such disgusted and disappointed looks. You look around the room to see everyone staring at you with hatred and spite.
"are you fucking kidding me?!"
You ask around looking at all of them, there was no way they all hated you this much because you liked a boy.
"I mean.. you did kind of steal him off from under her.."
"you knew she liked him. Kind of bitchy."
"what about girl code, dude"
All the girls began saying their own opinions ganging up on you and practically eating you alive. They all shared their own fair share of mean words and side eyes before you finished getting dressed and slammed your locker shut making them all quiet down.
"fuck all of you."
You spat out while flipping them all off and leaving the room. You couldn't believe they're trying to decapitate you because ochako didn't have the balls to do what you did. Why does that make you a bad person.
The week started getting harder and harder as everyone, even some of the boys who knew ochako liked deku, started distancing themselves from you, al because of what mina would whisper in their ears, feeding them whatever she could pin in her web. And like the idiot fools they were, they believed her.
You were being neglected by your friends, all because you liked a boy. It began to be too much for you. Putting up this front for everyone who didn't even bother to see it or even your side of the story. You can't be happy with someone who has all these people liking them and making you feel shitty for also liking them. Maybe you'd have to break up with izuku.
When you came to him with this information he was furious. But not even with ochako or mine. With everything. The fact you'd been feeling shitty and didn't tell him and the fact you didn't tell him these people were bothering you. Izuku loves you more than he does himself and he isn't afraid to show that. He also loves his friends but he isn't going to let these people sit here and make you feel like shit because you're together.
He held you close that night, assuring you he wouldn't let this stand any longer. He was going to confront everyone for whatever they said to you and he wouldn't give a single shit about it. You were his and he loves you.
"I'm sorry for the way you've been feeling, love. I'm sorry that people have been treating you shitty and neglecting you because of our relationship. But you don't need any of them as long as you have me."
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Tenya iida, one of the most compassionate hard working and caring people anyone has ever been graced to know. He is strong resilient and brave. He cares so much about everyone and it's so admirable. Some people see him as a wack job robot who just yells and screams or dotes too hard but to you he's perfect. An angel sent from the heavens above.
You've been working hard on something for a really long time. You hadn't told anyone about it because when you planned on it you wanted to also tell them the good news that would come with it. However that good news nevwr came. What you were doing wasn't good enough and it effectsd you deeply. Your grades fell, you started getting rather sluggish with your movements and you jardlt had the energy for anhone kr anyrhing.
Not getting the good news for what you've done was draining. It drained you to the point you wanted to break down and cry, yet nothing would come out. When people told you what you worked hard on, for so long, wasn't enough. It broke you, scarred you deeper than you could even begin to imagine. But tenya seen, he seen how you began to act, how you began to look more and more dead, how you'd began neglecting yourself. It was all too much for him to bear or watch you go through alone. He couldn't sit by and watch the love of his life perish.
Tenya held you in your dorm and let you cry on his shoulder for as long as you needed, having tissues on standby and rubbing your head gently. Placing kisses on top of your forehead and shushing you lightly as you both cuddled, he would be patient with you. He would wait until you were ready to talk or open up about what you were going through, but for now he wanted you to know you were loved and that he was proud of you.
"I love you, y/n. So much more than you could possibly fathom. I see you, and I am so incredibly proud of you. You are worthy and deserve someone who would move heaven and earth for you, I hope I am adequate enough for you."
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Dating bakugou katsuki was hard. Not because he was an angry fiery shit head, but because he had such a burning passion for what he did. He never stopped striving and fighting to get what he wanted. He knew what he wanted and grasped at it and held onto it tight. It was nothing less than admirable.
The fact he could come back to you and tell you he loves you was admirable. He loved you and that meant so much to you. You loved him just as much and tried so hard to show up and be there for him. Through thick and thin, lows and highs, you wanted to be by his side regardless. He loved you for that reason alone, but he'd give you so many other reasons why he loves you.
He seen how hard you were working, how hard you were trying, how no one dared to even glance at you. He seen a faller bird that had potential and was worthy. Bakugou katsuki seen you. He wanted you and promised you he'd love you.
But for fucks sake, it always angered him to watch you get in such moods. To watch you neglect yourself and struggle with bad things. To put yourself under so much pressure and stress for no reason. When you'd cry your eyes out alone because you were tired.
He wanted to do so many things to you in that moment, but all his body could do was rush to you and hold you. He held you tightly, his fingers digging into the side of your hip. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled your sweet scent that always made him go feral.
You were his and he wouldn't dare let you sit here and feel shitty over whatever it was that was making you feel this way. He pushed and poked at every corner he could to get you to talk. Once you did he told you to shut the fuck up. You wanted to cry even more but you were sure he had reason to it.
And boy did he, he had such caring words laced with such menas things that were all wrapped in the cutest bow. He was emotionally constipated and had a hard time making people feel better. But watching him slightly struggle to find nice words to make you feel better while holding you close in his arms makes you feel so much better. Giggling at how he stammered over his words and how he tried to uphold a gentle voice to match the gentle strokes of his fingers on your side.
"look.. just. sigh. You're great okay. I love you and I'm not gonna just sit here n' let you whine n' shit for nothin'. Don't let whatever stupid shit is bothering you get t'ya. Or I'll beat yer' fuckin' ass."
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Being kirishima eijirou's girlfriend was nothing other than a pure utter blessing. To be blessed with such an amazing caring and helpful boyfriend like him was genuinely a gift from the god above. He treated you like a queen who deserved to be worshipped.
It didn't take long for him to notice how hard you were struggling with things. He made sure before you got back to his dorm that it was all cozy and comfortable for you. One of the most romantic gestures he could have ever done for you. The way he had his laptop on his bed with so many plushies and comfortable pillows, and the fluffy cover he has and all the snacks you could ever imagine. He was nothing more than a blessing.
He held you tight and let you watch whatever you wanted, kirishima doesn't care about weight or anything like that, [yes I had to add this bit, bite me.] He loves training and working out with you, sure but he would never force you to do those things. He wants you to be nothing but comfortable with him and your body, so he would never shame you for how much you are or how you are in front of him. He loves you, all of you and he made sure you knew that. He kissed you and told you he loved you so many times. You fell asleep in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
"I love you.. I hope this could make you feel better. I will always be here for you."
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Denki kaminari. Where to even begin with him. He was such a funny guy that it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious about committing arson. He always made sure you knew that he loved you. He always hung by you and stayed by your side. He wouldn't ever tell you but he was a bit insecure. There were some things about himself he wished he could change for you, some things he wished he could do for you. He never intended to bring himself down but sometimes he thought you were this super cool goddess who was worthy of something more than a tiny little pebble like him. He felt like he was gum beneath your shoe.
Denki knew he wasn't good at a lot of things, he knew he could be dumb or even useless at times but when he seen how short you were feeling and how you would start crying because of how stressed you were he couldn't just sit by and let you feel this way.
He let you vent to him like you laid in his arms. He let you out face masks on him and let you do his hair or paint his nails or draw on him and just let your rant to him about all of your worries and woes. He wanted you to feel the way you made him feel so he tried hard to keep his mouth shut and listen. Whenever he'd notice you quieting down because you thought he was getting tired of listening he'd ask you "why'd you stop?" It'd make you feel so happy to have someone like him.
Finally after you were finished he decided to carefully pick and close his words to make himself sound just a bit smarter and more cool for you.
"hey...I'm sorry that you're going through this.. I wish there was something a bit more that I could uhm.. do? I don't want you to feel like I'm a burden but I promise you I'm here for you, if you ever want to vent like this again or just have someone to talk to, or-- or even just sit in silence with someone.. I'm here."
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Neito monoma, he's quite the distinguished fellow. He always hated class 1A and he seemed to make his whole personality about just that. Or so you thought. You two getting together was not on your 2024 bingo. But he knew how to make you feel things.
He gave you butterflies by just smiling. His laugh was loud and carefree. He wasn't afraid to boast and brag about anything you did, he even did it in front of you. It was hard to feel insecure with him around. He wanted the world to know you were better than them, especially class 1A.
He would give you flowers or cute bows or just things he felt you'd like. He learned you and your every move well. He'd even practice certain conversations before the two of you have them. He felt you were rather predictable in an exciting way. A way that could never make him unlove you.
You being in a bad mood angered him, he confronted you about it and was so ready to beat someone's ass. With his words. But once you assured him why you were feeling this way his gaze softened. He grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. One that felt like it could last an eternity. One that you hoped would.
He sighed and just held you for a while and took it to his bed which led to a cuddle sesh. He rubbed your shoulder while you buried your face in his chest, he felt the way your breath fanned all over him and it made a shiver go down his spine.
You listen to his heartbeat and breathe in as much of him as you could, you were afraid if you didn't take all of him in right now he might disappear. Every time he kissed your forehead lightly or peppered kisses over your ear snapped you back into reality and helped you realize this was real, that he was real and was with you. That he loved you and would do anything for you.
"I love you darling and I hope you know just how much I do. I'm rather angry that you hadn't told me how you were feeling but I suppose I can let it go for now.. get some rest, my love."
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AN: so I decided to make it a to character thing n don't even mind that I basically made a whole story for izukus... We all know how I feel ab him..
Also off topic and not that anyone cares but I'm thinking ab updating my masterlist yk? Js make it more aesthetically pleasing to myself. Also I wrote this all in one go, this took ab maybe two hours?????
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ellssbellss · 2 years ago
Note
I may or may not have been awake for about 48 house, so I wanted to ask a request before I fall asleep.
The hosts when their SO was up for 2 days straight doing work and starts to slip when get to the host club and acting a little bit too much like the Kyoya.
been thinking about this more than my actual story lately, and i have terrible writer's block, so hopefully this will help! {thank you, anon for the idea!}
The Host Club and their Sleepy, Cranky S.O. {Ohshc X Gender Neutral!Reader}
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.oOo.
"mon amour? you need to wake up, darling." tamaki's voice whispers gently in your ear.
the darkness that had surrounded you minutes ago suddenly vanishes as you open your eyes, your head swiftly lifting off of the hard surface that you had rested your eyes upon just a few minutes ago.
it had been just a few minutes, right?
coming out of your tired daze, you feel a warm hand under your chin, and your eyes are turned to meet the concerned, violet gaze of your boyfriend. he is positioned above you, one soft hand resting the club's table in front of you and the other on your face, trailing gently from the point of your chin to the roundness of your cheekbones as his thumb runs gently over the skin there.
"my love, do you know what time it is?" his voice was like butter as dips his head a little deeper, worry creasing his perfect face as he watches you lean into his touch almost automatically.
"mmph..." through his stress about your exhausted state, he giggles slightly as you sigh and shrug, your eyelids dropping more with each second. "i don't know, love."
"it's nine, (y/n)."
"what?" any haze that had chained your brain was broken as you shot out of his gentle hold.
straightening your back, you peer towards the large windows that created a barrier between the club room and the outside world, seeing an endless night erasing any of the natural light you had experienced when you walked in here after class.
"it's nine o'clock?" panicked, the chair screeches across pristine tile as you grab at the things scattered across the table. laptop, charging cords, notebooks and pencils all make their way into your grasp as you hurriedly shove them into your bag. "why didn't you wake me up sooner?"
tamaki had watched the stress bunch up in your shoulders the minute you broke away from his grasp. he watches it wind into your muscles and face as you close up your pack and swing it around one arm, hastily pushing the chair in.
"you look like you needed your rest." he says softly, taken aback by your harsh tone. "i talked to my father to let us stay here a little while longer, since i know you have been working really hard on that project you have, and i thought-"
"exactly!" without raising your voice, he feels the sharp frustration rolling off the tip of your tongue, and it pierces something tender as you whip around to face him. "i have been working so hard not to get behind on my schedule, and now that's all out window. why didn't you wake me up like I asked?"
yellow eyebrows raise as you bite back at him, and he is getting whiplash from the sudden venom in your voice. "i tried, (y/n), but you didn't wake up!" his hands move in an pleading gesture. "you shoved my hand off when i tried to shake you and faced the other way when i kissed your cheek. the end of the world couldn't wake you."
your lips purse as your eyes squint and roll, and you stomp towards the door. stuttering, your golden retriever boyfriend follows behind as you nearly rip the door off it's hinges in your haste.
his words are rushed as he rushes to follow you out of the club room as you make your way down the long, empty staircase. "truly, you're not as behind as you might think, angel, not with all the work you've been doing?"
"you would think, huh?" another frustrated sigh escapes you, but it's more tuned towards yourself than anything. you push through the grand entrance of the school.
tamaki chases you out into the moonlight. his tall form stops in the doorframe though, when he sees the way the pale light drapes over your figure.
your usual bright stance sags in the night, and the hand he loves to hold rakes harshly through your perfect locks before it disappears to run down your face.
"(y/n), mon amour, what's wrong?" you hear his dress shoes click against the pavement. long arms wrap around your waist from behind, and a soft cheek nuzzles against the side of your face. tamaki tightens his hold, encouraging you to melt into his form. "talk to me."
after nothing more than a second, you do, because how could you not?
your head falls back as your spine molds into the bends and divots of tamaki's long torso, and a deep, shuddering sigh ripples out of you.
"i'm sorry, my love." tamaki feels your apology vibrate against his chest. "i just-, i've been extra stressed lately."
"about your project?"
"yes."
"why, angel?"
your neck twists, and you meet your prince's gaze in the complexity of his embrace, and tamaki sees the deep circles under your eyes. he notes how they had darkened since the last time he noticed them.
"i just have a lot riding on my grade for this course. my mother is counting on me for the future of her company, and if this project doesn't go well, then..."
"stop it." the comforting hug he had wrapped you in briefly vanishes as his touch pulls against your uniform. his fingers travel up your waist and forearms, gently grasping your shoulders as he spins you around to face him. "stop thinking like that."
when you're looking at him, his hands run up the rest of your body to your face, holding your jawline in his touch. "you've been working and worrying for two days, mon amour. you haven't been taking care of yourself, and there is nothing more important than your wellbeing."
his tone is different from his gallivanting, and incredibly endearing, dramatics. it's gracefully intense, like when he helped a struggling doctor find his way to his estranged daughter. the way he looks at you is also fierce, love and determination swimming in his purple irises.
"tamaki..."
"why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"
"i haven't had the time!" your voice tries weakly to defend yourself, but tamaki raises another eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "there isn't enough time in the day for me to work as hard as i have been and get a full night's rest."
"then why haven't you come to me about it?"
"i...i don't know." defeated, there is a drop in your gaze as you give up trying to defend yourself. "i thought i could do it on my own."
"you don't have to do anything on your own. not when you're with me." tamaki bends slightly to get into your line of sight. "you know you can talk to me, (y/n); that i'm here to give you anything and everything you need."
your (e/c) eyes whip back up to him. "i know that, love, but i-"
"no buts. you come to me if you need me. that's how it has always been for us."
the moonlight reflects off the small amount of wetness in your eyes, and tamaki's serious expression crumples. all of your stress and exhaustion breathes out of your body at his words. he smiles softly as you bury your face in his chest, placing his hand on your hair and another at your back, kissing the side of your head.
"i need you." your voice sings through the night, into the air as it's carried into the rose garden, red petals fully in bloom.
.oOo.
kyoya has seen this look before.
the tension of your lips as they writhe over your teeth. the slam of your footsteps as you make your way over to your usual seat across from him. especially the small smile you give to whomever greets you.
the smile that doesn't reach your eyes. the smile that falls immediately after you give some random excuse to dismiss yourself from the conversation, and you let it fall because you think no one is looking.
but kyoya was watching.
"good morning, (y/n)." he greets over his laptop as you click open your own, and you meet his gaze briefly before turning your attention back to your computer, giving him the same dismissive smile.
being that he was your boyfriend, that hurt a little.
"good morning, kyo."
he lets his eyes linger on the bored, dull look that you attach to your screen, accompanied by your sluggish movements and purple smudges under your eyes. a dark eyebrow quirks from behind his glasses as your chest rises with a sigh, and your face crinkles despairingly at whatever you are working on.
"what are you doing?"
your lashes flick up to him once more before returning back to your task at hand. "i'm working on the budget."
he blinks a little at your reply. "still?"
the tension from your mouth seeps into your form at his question, and you shift in your seat. "yes, love, thank you so much for pointing that out."
lips parting slightly at the sarcasm in your voice, the club's director raises his fingers off of his keyboard, favoring to clasp them under his chin instead as a more calculating gaze sweeps the figure of his beloved.
he catches an eyebrow twitch, a flare of your nostrils, the way your head bobs slightly before you shake it, as if that could erase the pure exhaustion radiating from you.
yes, kyoya has seen this look before.
in the mirror.
"how much sleep did you get last night, my dear?"
this time, you don't even look at him when you answer. you just shrug at him, too focused on your typing to really concentrate on a reply. "i don't know. maybe an hour or so-."
a sharp flare of concern rises in his chest before you spin your computer on it's base, shoving the screen in his direction with a wary look in your eye. "does this look right to you? i feel like something's missing."
his hands are still at his mouth when he glances at the spreadsheet you two created together, the perfect, color coded numbers arranged into straight columns.
but his brow furrows even more the longer he looks at it. lowering his hands to the device, kyoya pulls it closer to him as he scrolls through, skimming the text for any sign of error or miscalculation.
he finds none.
"(y/n), this is perfect." his pupils dart across the page behind his frames. "i have no idea what you're stressing over."
the laptop is pulled away from him once more as you run a hand through your hair. "no, no." you hit the backspace button on your keyboard, tired eyes squinting over the excel sheet. "something isn't right."
your aggressive typing fills the air once more, a little more frenzied and anxious than a minute before.
kyoya leans back in his chair, still observing. "(y/n), have you been working out this budget since the time i sent it to you?"
"of course."
"that was two days ago."
"i know."
he stands, pushing out his chair, but you don't notice. "have you slept at all?"
"not really. i've been going through the math, the incoming inventory. sure, it looks perfect now, and we are within this month's spending range, but i know there's a way to save more money. if i could just-"
"that," the lid of your computer is suddenly pushed down, closing the screen in front of you. a pale hand with pianist-like fingers attached to it splays across your protective case. "is more than enough, then."
"kyoya!" you sit in front of him, shock emanating from your face as his name is gasped from your lips. "what the hell?"
kyoya leans in front of you, one hand bracing your laptop closed while the other slips into the pocket of his trousers. his raven hair falls into his eyes a little bit, but the gray color is still piercing and raw.
"my dear," he pulls away slightly, adding pressure onto your computer so that it drags to his side of the table. "you need to take a break."
"a break?" you rise as well, trying to keep a cool demeanor. but your director could tell that your patience was thinning. "i'm on the brink of figuring this out, and you want me to take a break?"
"you already have figured it out, (y/n). i looked it over. you found the solution."
"but it could be better."
quickly, kyoya rounds the table, walking into your space to grab one of your hands.
he places both of his palms around one of your own, trying to get through to you through his touch instead of his words, even if the connection was small.
"how much sleep have you had in the past forty-eight hours?"
abandoned by the distraction your work gave you, you now face your boyfriend head on as he studies your movements.
since the moment you met him, kyoya has always watched you intently. as a man who didn't involve himself with anything that he didn't care greatly for, the process of dating him has and will always include him taking the time to observe and study you; to commit your mannerisms to memory. gray irises will forever notice how you bounce your leg underneath your desk when you have something to say but won't say it out right. or how you take your (f/h/d) in the morning, and the exact brand that you use.
or how your face lights up when he comes into view from down the hallway, and you excuse yourself to meet him halfway.
or how you always seem to kiss him with soothing, deep movements, which always encourages him to respond in kind.
but, very rarely is that intent stare coupled with concern.
yet, here it was, bathing his beloved gaze as he waits for your reply, leaving you with an aching heart. you think back to they way you've been acting, cranky and stand-offish, and a pang of regret sparks in your stomach.
your hand adjusts slightly in his as you hold onto his grasp, albeit a little nervously.
"you want the truth?" your beautiful eyes break his gaze as you stubbornly shift in place.
"always."
"not very much. maybe three hours." he swallows as that sharp flare of concern burns into an engulfing flame in his torso. "in total."
A disappointed frown etches onto his handsome features, but it's not angry. it's sad.
sad that he didn't see your exhaustion before, not in it's totality. he saw your frequent yawns and the way you tended to drift off mid-conversation, but he was busy with work as well, and couldn't connect the dots until now.
"(y/n)-"
"i know, i know. it's not the best." you take a deep breath and look at him with more confidence, ready to admit to your actions. "the perfectionist in me kind of let loose. i'm sorry, i just wanted it to be the best that it could be. for the club, ya know? for you."
tugging on your clasped hands, a deep hum resonates from the ootori son as he draws you closer. soon, your hands naturally loop around his neck while he settles his hold at your waist.
his forehead rests on yours as he sighs deeply, and you close your eyes as his low voice reaches your ears. "i think the best thing for me and the club is for you to get some rest."
he smirks a little as he feels you giggle tiredly against him. "yeah, i think you're right."
kyoya chuckles softly as he raises his forehead off of yours to place a kiss in the same spot. "i'm always right, my dear."
.oOo.
"hikaru! stop it!"
arms caged yours as you writhed against his chest. your legs were wild as they kicked up into the air, barely missing your boyfriend as he picked you up from where you had sat on your desk.
"put me down right now! what are you even doing?"
he grunts a little as your swinging legs hit his calves before throwing you down on your bed. unceremoniously, the bed frame creaks with your weight as you land face first into your duvet.
a loud huff escapes you as you turn around from your position, seeing hikaru standing at the foot of your bed with his arms crossed, a victorious smile plastered onto his sharp mouth.
"well, i asked you to take a break from your studying. and you said 'make me.'" his fingers come to either side of his head to create quotation marks. "so i made ya."
"i didn't mean literally, jackass." you grumble as you shift. your palms push your body up off the bed and spin you so that you are seated properly on your comforter. scooting roughly to the edge of your mattress, you barely stand up before your pushed onto the bed again.
"hikaru!"
"nope. not gonna happen."
"i need to study!"
"that's what you've been saying for the past two days!" his rough voice sounds exasperated as he gestures wildly to you. "in the clubroom, in the cafeteria, on our facetime calls. shit, (y/n), i don't think there has been a single second where i haven't seen that textbook open in front of you."
he points to the hefty calculus book open on your desk, three quarters of the pages turned to one side.
"that's what studying is!" you move to get up again with another frustrated sigh. "my test is tomorrow, my love, i can't afford any breaks right now."
this time, instead of simply pushing your back onto the bed, hikaru pins you down. in a flash, golden eyes fill your vision as his fingers clamp around your wrist. when you fall back, his weight takes you down as he flops heavily on your chest.
"you're not going anywhere, baby. not until you tell me what's going on."
"nothing is going on." you huff, blowing a few of his ginger strands out of his face. "now get off me."
"i don't believe you." ever the stubborn twin, hikaru makes a point to wiggle his body on top of yours to amplify the fact that you have no hope of pushing him off. "and i'm not moving until i believe you."
"what?" you bite back.
a more serious tone laces his voice as he scans you. "today, during club hours, you looked like a zombie."
you shoot him a blank look. "thanks."
"a gorgeous zombie, but still."
"not helping."
a crease forms between his eyebrows at your usually soft, bright tone crackling into dry one. "you were dragging your feet, and talking to yourself more than usual. it was creepy."
you rolled your eyes, and hikaru watches as the bags under your eyes moved with the motion, his jaw setting into a firm line.
"so i'm not getting off of you until you tell me what's been up your ass lately."
offended, you gasp and writhe once more, trying to break free of the surprisingly strong grasp the hitachiin twin has on your wrists. "i don't have time for this!"
he chuckles a little at your flustered expression and sinks more of his weight onto your figure. "well, if you're not going to take a break, than i will. i think i'll take a little nap on this comfortable bed."
realizing he doesn't need to pin your arms down anymore with all of his weight on you, he lets go and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his arms and legs sprawling out over your uniform.
"don't you dare, hikaru!" you say as you try to bring your arms underneath him to push him off, but he's just a block of dead weight.
his breath hits your ear, and you can feel the mischievous smile on his lips. "oh, wow, this is a bumpy mattress." wriggling, he adjusts so that he locks perfectly into your body, and a deep sigh emits from his lungs. "that's better."
another weak push strains your muscles before you give up completely. flopping back onto the mattress, you let out a frustrated groan.
"hikaru, please."
"oh, the mattress speaks?"
"my love."
laughing, he presses a kiss onto the column of your throat. "what's up, baby?"
like a weighted blanket, hikaru's body flush against yours has calmed your heart rate slightly, and all the exhaustion and stress that you have been feeling suddenly comes to a head.
your arms lift from your sides to wrap around his toned back, and you turn your face into the divot connecting his shoulder and his collarbone, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne and laundry detergent.
"i've been awake for the past forty-eight hours."
his chest rumbles with a sympathetic hum. "i know."
"i'm tired."
his head pops up from the embrace, and sincerity shines in the liquid gold of his irises. "let's take a nap, and then we can figure something out afterwards, yeah?"
you can already feel your eyelids dragging over your pupils. "yeah, that sounds nice."
as you succumb to your fatigue, you barely register the way hikaru rolls off of you. his warmth returns when you feel an arm wedge itself under your waist and pull you to him so that you can lay on his chest with ease. the other wraps around your shoulders, and you feel his breath tickling the top of your head as he settles in beside you.
"thanks for telling me, baby."
.oOo.
"so, i think because i found the magnitude of this vector, than i should be able to find the acceleration, right?" kaoru asks, back hunched over his desk, spinning a pencil in his left hand as he concentrates on the paperwork in front of him.
when he doesn't get a response, he stops fidgeting and looks over to you: his incredibly intelligent, and usually helpful, partner.
you're sat next to him, slaving away at your laptop while he watches the blue light practically burn your retinas.
well, sat is a strong word.
you slouched, your neck barely able to keep your head on your shoulders as you worked at his desk, fingers robotically clicking at your mouse and dragging images to their predetermined place, your graphic design coming to fruition with each release of a button.
"(y/n)?"
at the sound of your name, your spine flinches slightly as it straightens. you whip your head towards him with such a quick motion, that he winces at the twist of the muscle, hoping you didn't get whiplash.
his hopes are dashed when you immediately face the front, bringing one of your hands up to massage the nape of your neck.
"are you okay?"
"i'm fine," you breathe, exhaustion sprinkled in your sigh. "what did you need?"
cautiously, kaoru slides his paper over to you while you shift closer to him, pulling your chair over until your legs touch underneath his desk.
"i don't know if i got this problem right."
through a yawn, your eyes scan his homework, everything coming together in a blurry font due to your lack of sleep. you can barely make out his handwriting on your best day, so the fact that you hardly think straight doesn't really help.
but you couldn't let kaoru know that.
"it looks good, babe."
he quirks a ginger eyebrow, glancing between the paper and then back up to where you sat.
"yeah?" he asks, studying you carefully.
"for sure."
"okay, well then," your boyfriend flips the paper over, where another disarray of words meet you. he scribbles something out before circling an answer choice from his options, then looks back at you. "that must be right, too, yeah?"
you nod, blinking slowly. "mhmm." you turn to look at him, a small smile on your lips. "you're so smart, love."
his lips curve up into a half-smirk as he tilts his head, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. golden irises squint as he glances over your face once more. "it's a smiley face."
your smile fades. "huh?"
the sneaky twin gestures towards the paper again, and after rubbing your palms over your eye-sockets, a happy face penciled in lead comes into accusing focus.
"i drew a smiley face, and you said i was smart." kaoru summarizes, a deadpan tone only being interrupted slightly as he laughs through his sentence. "what is going on with you?"
a frustrated whine ripples past your throat as you rest your head in your hands. your voice breaks into a quiet groan, and while your volume doesn't rise, your disappointment does. "god, this essay is making me lose my mind! i can't even think clearly, let alone write three more pages of this shit."
"hey, woah." kaoru rests his hand against your spine and rubs it, moving his hand back and forth in calming motions. "talk to me."
another deep sigh rushed out of you as you talk behind your hands, and your poor boyfriend can't hear a single thing.
the hand on your back glides to the side of your face, bringing your chin up and out of your grasp. he locks his gaze with yours as he leans back in his chair. "try again, babe."
"this essay makes me want to jump off a cliff."
"and you were gonna do that without me? i thought we had an agreement."
"shut up." despite yourself, you laugh.
the fingers on your chin shift to your scalp while he laughs with you, pushing only a few of the stray hairs away from your face. "have you slept?"
"not well."
kaoru notes a redness in your eyes he didn't see before. "not well, or not at all?"
you roll your eyes a little, but he knows it's not directed at him. you're disappointed in yourself. "a mix of both." hastily you look back at him, widening your eyelids a little at a poor attempt to look more awake.
"but it's no big deal!" your voice is a little too bright. "i can catch up on sleep once i submit this paper."
the gingered twin squints his eyes, but to your surprise, he shrugs, spinning in his office chair as he refocuses on his work. "yeah, i guess you're right. i get it."
your mouth was slightly agape at the fact that that actually worked. "you get it?"
"yeah. sometimes, people just can't sleep enough with everything going, ya know? i only got two hours of sleep last night, so i understand what you're going through."
there's a pause. kaoru fights a smirk as he scratches an equation into the top right of his paper.
"what?" a concerned voice reaches his ears, and he almost feels bad for lying. "only two hours?"
"mhmm." he hums, not even giving you a second glance.
"kaoru," the sweetest whine escapes your lips as he feels a hand on his shoulder. he steels his expression into one of confused nonchalance as he faces you again, only to be met with the spot you get between your crinkled eyebrow when you're worried. "why didn't you tell me?"
"what do you mean? it's not a big deal."
"yes it is!" your other hand reaches his opposite shoulder, and he turns to face you fully, reveling in your touch as you move to cradle his face. "sleep is important, babe, you can't just-"
his grin widens as a flash of realization flutters across your face. The worry in your features melts into a blank expression, and he laughs as you push his face away from yours, muttering a "jackass" under your breath.
the sneaky twin closes the distance though, pulling your chair ever closer to his to where nothing was standing in his way to pull you to his lap. you resist slightly, pouting as your sat into the space between his legs, but a natural, familiar gravity pulls you towards him anyway, and your face rests gently in the crook of his neck.
"rest for a couple minutes, okay? your paper will be here when you wake up."
a contended sigh seeps out of you as your exhaustion bubbles up to the surface. your eyelids begin to drop when you speak into his neck. "and what about you?"
kaoru's arms come to wrap around your folded form, burying you closer into his chest. "i'll always be here."
.oOo.
mori had gotten used to your talkative nature. being a man of little words, you complimented him well with your bright, energetic commentary about anything that excited you.
he supposed that he hadn't just gotten used to your bubbly personality shining through your lovely voice, he had come to love it; to rely on it.
so, when you entered your usual sparring session with your heels dragging on the wooden floor of the dojo, not only did the air feel off, he felt off.
your white gi hung off your rounded shoulders, the karate belt around your waist haphazardly tied in a knot at the front. and while you still looked as stunning as ever, mori could feel the confusion and worry well up in his chest.
he stood up from stretching out his hamstrings, his long body gracefully walking over to you to greet you with his usual hug. your smile was tired, and when you wrapped your arms around his thin waist, he felt you snuggle more into his hold and release a breath.
still gripping his waist, you looked up at him, your grin still exhausted but content when you propped your chin on his chest to meet his eyes.
"hey." you said, and your voice was airy and cracked.
"hi."
"how was your day?"
"good." his palms tightened on your back. "yours?"
you could barely keep your eyes open as you shrugged. "meh. it was interesting."
"yeah?"
"yeah." still, even in your tired state, you inched your face closer to his, a dazed look in your eye. "but we can talk about it later."
a disbelieving, good-natured scoff left him as a sharp exhale, your boyfriend knowing full-well that would not want to talk about it later. but he met you halfway, and your lips met in a lazy, soft kiss as he lowered his head to yours.
you had nearly put all of your weight onto him at this point, and as you sunk into his grip, he arched his back to counteract the force. his hands glided from your waist to your cheeks as he tilted his head, smirking slightly at the warm hum that left your throat.
pulling away, he kept his forehead on yours as he held you. a breathy left glazed over his face when you separated from him, and he opened his eyes to see a light curve on your plump lips.
"thanks, takashi. i needed that."
that brought all of his worries rushing back.
"(y/n)..." and you opened your eyes at the way he said your name. since mori wasn't the most vocal man you've been with, you learned to pick up on his tonal cues.
your name could be spoken in many ways. a gentle breeze as he tells you that he loves you, a deep inhale as you, yet again, prove your the clumsiest human alive, or maybe a groan in the late, late hours of the night.
this one was a mild warning, forming at the front of his mouth as he stares at you, deep brown eyes boring into yours with earnest.
"what?" you didn't want him to ask. but, he was kind and loving and really fucking stubborn. so, of course he was.
"what's wrong?"
a whine bubbled to the surface of your soft pallet as you dropped your face into the crook of his neck, even if you had to stand on your tip-toes to do so. abandoning your hold on his waist, you preferred to bring your arms up and around his shoulders, locking them around the back of his neck.
"i don't want to talk about it."
"what happened?"
"nothing, really. i promise."
"doesn't feel like nothing. here," gently, you felt a pressure on your hips as mori pushes you out of his hold, instead moving to grab your hand as he leads you to a traditionally decorated wall of the dojo.
letting go, the stoic leans his back against the wall before sliding down, tucking his lanky form into a sitting position before inviting you to do the same. "sit with me."
and he looked so sweet, his gaze hardened on the surface but filled with emotion and weight within it's depths. so how could you say no?
plus, he really wouldn't stop until you told him.
taking a spot next to him, you let your head roll onto the back of the wall before resting it on his shoulder. and the spot was so comfortable, so familiar, you wanted to fall asleep right there.
mori was stubborn, yes, but he was also patient. he waited like a boulder against the tide as you gathered your thoughts, loyal and permanent and determined to help you through whatever was plaguing you.
in your thoughtful silence, he imagined the stress you had been baring when you were assigned that presentation in class. even if you were energetic and outspoken, he knew public speaking terrified you. the pure panic that had erupted in your irises when you told him about the ten-minute powerpoint you had to put together in three days told him everything he needed to know about how your weekend was going to go.
that was two days ago, and he had suggested this impromptu sparring match to give you a little bit of a break. physical activity always cleared his head when he was stretched, and he figured if he could remind you how strong you were, then you could convince yourself that this would be a piece of cake.
but the bags under your eyes and the unanswered calls from him on your cell-phone made him think that this had been harder on you than he had originally expected.
a small snore broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at the source.
your eyes were peacefully closed, and your lips were parted as deep, calm breaths washed in and out of your chest. he relaxed slightly into the wall, and smiled as you cuddled closer to him in his small movement.
kissing the top of your head, he rested his cheekbone upon your hair as he rested his eyes as well.
you two would talk later. it wasn't physical activity you needed, or even a helping hand if you had let him.
all you needed, really, was a little bit of rest.
.oOo.
"(n/n)-chan! (n/n)-chan!"
honey bounced up to your desk as you typed away, usa-chan banging against the side of his calves as he stopped at the end of your chair. "wanna play with me, (n/n)-chan?"
you barely spared him a glance, but your eyes met his with a quick shake of your head as you returned your urgent glance to your laptop. "not right now, honey. sorry."
the blonde's bouncing stopped, a little to awe-struck at your rejection to feel sad about it. he was more confused than anything. you never said no to him.
a deep, apparent wrinkle appeared between his brows as the boy-lolita tugged on your sleeve, causing your fingers to slip off the keyboard slightly as you typed. "please?"
"what the-?" your hand having slipped, it gently brushes the cup of tea near your working space, and you gasp before rolling your eyes. "no, honey. i told you, i can't. go play with usa-chan, okay?" you quickly pulled your sleeve out of his grasp and got back to your work, leaving him deflated at your side.
this time he was pouting, and the wrinkle on his forehead turned from confused to determined as he walked around to the opposite side of the table to crawl into the chair across from you.
"what are you workin' on?"
this time your eyes flicked up to him for a longer moment. you wondered why he couldn't leave you alone, but you guessed it was better that he was sitting over there rather than pulling at your uniform and keeping you from your work. "the club's website."
he gasped as he swung his legs on the chair, too short to reach the ground from this height. "ooh, are you making it pretty?"
a sigh came from deep within you as your eyes squinted, zooming in on something on the other side of your screen. "you could say that."
"what are you doing to it?"
you shrugged, still focused on your work. "formatting, graphic designing, boring tech stuff."
"cool!" honey excitedly places his palms on the table, seeing if he sat up straighter, he could get a better view. "how do you know how to do all that?"
you suspiciously scanned him over as he edged closer, pulling your computer forward on the table. "lots of practice."
a high-pitched hum exudes from the third-year as he tilts his head, almost fully on the table now, but something has caught your eye, and your back to your furious typing, not noticing how close he's gotten.
his voice sounds distant in your focus. "couldn't you take a break? for cake? a cake break?" he giggles, but his smile falters when you don't hear his joke.
"haven't taken a break in two days, honey. not gonna start now." your voice is low and inattentive, trailing off as you scroll through the columns and columns of pictures and texts.
still crawling towards you, his brown eyes widen slightly. "two days?" he gasps, and begins to count on his fingers. "that's uhhh..." honey counts his fingers under his breath for a moment before he brightens with an answer. "forty eight hours worth of work! did you even sleep?"
"nope. no sleep. kyoya needs this done by tonight."
"what?!" at that, honey stands to his full height, his small but strudy weight easily supported by the desk underneath him. you jerk back as he points a finger in your face, his voice still young but firm as he speaks down to you. "you need to take a nap right now!"
"honey!" the blonde has your full attention now. "get down!"
"nope!" his pink lips pop the 'p' noise as he shakes his head defiantly. "not until you agree to sleep! kyo-chan can wait."
your hands come up in an exasperated motion and you stand up, pushing your chair out from under you. "honey, this table is not stable. you're gonna fall if you don't get down!"
"will you take a break?"
"i can't!"
"well, then i'm not coming down." folding his arms across his chest, he puffs it out, a proud look on his face.
his confident aura melts, however, when the table shifts with his dramatic movement.
you suck in a breath as honey throws his arms out to balance himself, barely keeping the table at bay as he wiggles side to side.
"okay! okay, i'll take a ten-minute nap! just, please sweetheart, get down from there."
even in the midst of chaos of his own making, honey still finds the. motivation to negotiate. "twenty minutes!"
"fine!" you round the table and extend your arms, and he leaps into them as you pick him up. your heart rate slows as you hold him while the table falls with the loss of his added weight, your tea and computer skidding to opposite sides of the tile.
blankly, you look at honey as he winces at the impact, and then at the dark aura that slowly begins to crowd around your frame.
"i can pay for that." he promises.
.oOo.
your knee bounces under your desk as you watch haruhi's eyes flick over your screen, the words you spent two days writing reflecting back in her dark brown eyes as she reads your work.
your hands are clasped in front of your lips, keeping you from saying anything like 'i changed my mind!' or 'okay, you can stop now', because you're pretty sure haruhi would ignore you anyway.
she had insisted on reading your short story. it was something you did in your free time, and it was something she knew you took pride in.
sometimes, if you felt courageous enough, you would submit them into newspapers, or maybe magazines and blogs if you were really going all out, this past weekend being one of those times. day in and day out, you sat at your writing desk, typing away for what felt like mere seconds as the story in your mind began to unfold onto the pages in front of you. barely any food and close to no sleep rendered a masterpiece of literature, or at least that was what haruhi had assured you she would call it if you let her proof-read it.
your natural host promised that it would take her only a few minutes to read the whole thing, and then you could be on your way to submit it to the magazine's editor. plus, it was the least you could do since you basically ignored her calls and used up all of your study-date time to edit and revise your concluding paragraph.
but finally, finally, after many torturous seconds, your girlfriend leans back. her hands wrap around the edge of your macbook to only shut the laptop halfway and push it aside, turning her full attention back to you.
very briefly, you pulls your hands away from your mouth to ask the question you've been dreading. "what do you think?"
the gentle look that haruhi always wears stays frozen for a moment, but slowly starts to melt into a soft smile as she meets your nervous gaze. "it's good, love. it's really good."
straightening, your eyes widen as you bite your lip. "really?"
her smile gets brighter as amazement floods your cheekbones. "really."
"oh my god." releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding, you throw yourself into the back of your chair. pulling your palms up and around, they rake over your face before scratching through your hair, a groan morphing into a laugh as relief sputters out of you. you feel like you need to say it again, probably louder for good measure. "oh my god! you really liked it?"
the honor student's deep laugh joins yours as watches you bask in a job well done. "why would i lie about that?"
touching down to earth, you shrug, your hands falling into your lap. "because you love me, and you would do anything to make me happy?"
she snorts, leaning forward as she is drawn into your space. "you're right. i do love you. probably just enough to never lie to you again."
a teasing smile curves your lips as you fake offended disbelief, scooting closer so that your knees slip between her own. "again?"
brunette eyebrows work upwards as haruhi mirrors your smirk, nodding as she gets even closer. "mhmm."
"and what have you lied about, haruhi dear?" her breath is mixing in with yours now, and she keeps her kiss barely out of reach, her lips grazing yours as she responds.
"about letting you leave tonight."
"wha-?" your eyebrows knit as haruhi shoots out of her chair, and before you can protest, she is straddling your hips, one of her legs on either side of you as you blush at her sudden proximity.
"haruhi!" but even if your voice sounds surprised, you hold her closer, your palms coming to rest on her thighs.
"when was the last time you slept?" she asks, suddenly serious as she cups your face in her hands.
"last night." you say, but she squints at your response.
"for how long?"
"enough." you whine, bringing your hands around her waist, encouraging her to be flush against you. "don't worry about it."
"(y/n), you look exhausted. i'm going to be worried about it."
you look at her for a moment before realizing that she isn't going to back down. shoulders slumping, you drop your head onto her shoulder, hugging her close to your body. "two hours. maybe."
a displeased noise expels from her throat, but suddenly you feel slender fingers rubbing your back, toying with the hairs on the back of your neck. "you need to sleep."
making a grunt of blind agreement, you melt into her hold, the excitement and anxiousness you felt about your story being blown away by a gust of drowsiness. the scratches on your scalp weren't helping.
"like right now." she emphasizes, and tries to wiggle out of your hold, but you were stronger. tightening your grip around her slim waist.
her shoulders shake with another endearingly low laugh as she hugs you back. "let's get to the bed, love."
you don't think you've ever slept deeper in your life.
.oOo.
starting to write again, and i used this as a little exersise to get back into it. hopefully it can tide you over! i'll see you soon :)
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forgeofthenine · 11 months ago
Note
S/o stole their favorite tiefling bachelors shirt! How do said bachelors get it back?
I've been looking forward to writing this request for ages and as soon as I started it I got writers block, like a total chump. I did add on Rugan though so please accept that as my apology everyone! I hope you're all having a lovely valentines and staying safe <3
The bachelors (+Rugan) when you steal their shirt
Dammon
Dammon simply doesn't even try
What's the point when he thinks they look better on you than on him?
This man adores seeing you in his shirts and there's no way he's going to try and stop you wearing them
One of the best feelings for Dammon is coming in after a long day in the forge and seeing you asleep in bed wearing his shirt
He loves how the fabric hangs off you, how you smell more like him whenever you wear his clothes
It's a sight that never fails to make him pause and just admire you
Sometimes if he sees you wearing his shirt around the house he'll jokingly drape his apron over you, refering to you as the new master blacksmith
You'll often find he also likes to leave his shirts in oddly convenient places for you to 'steal'
Dammon can't get enough of you, especially when you're wearing his clothing
Zevlor
This man takes meticulous care of his belongings
He knows exactly what he owns, where it is, and what condition it's in
So when Zevlor can't seem to find his only clean shirt at the end of the week, he's more than a bit confused
You'll find him peering into your room in his shirtless glory and asking if you've seen his shirt
His words pause when he actually gets a good look at you though, seeing a greatly oversized linen shirt draped over you
Zevlor can't pull his gaze away from you and only comes back to reality when you ask what he needed
After clearing his throat, Zevlor tells you it was nothing and ducks away to find another shirt that might be passable
Discovering you stealing his shirt is almost too much for his heart to take, and his mind definitely drifts back to it throughout the day
You'll end up finding that Zevlor will offer to lend you his shirt every so often after this
Rolan
Rolan, despite how reserved and mature he comes off, is a menace in the mornings
Bleary eyed and already annoyed, he spends this particular morning desperately searching for that one shirt that best matches his work robes
That is, until you walk into the room holding a steaming hot cup of coffee and wearing a familiar starched shirt
You can see the way gears turn in his head as he realises that's where his precious clothing has gone
It's easy to make the assumption that Rolan has actually suddenly fallen ill with the way his face flushes
Not only does he suddenly feel very parched, but he also doesn't quite have the words to say for once
So instead he brusquely accuses you of stealing his favourite shirt
It's hard not to laugh at the poor man, scowling and blushing with crossed arms as he finally get the words out
Just pass him the coffee with a kiss and all will be forgiven
Rugan
This daring adventurer has come to expect things getting misplaced or stolen
What he didn't expect was for you to be the perpetrator
But there you are, standing before him in only his shirt and a tiny pair of shorts
He's all too happy to stop and admire the view, affectionately calling you 'a sight for sore eyes' as he saunters closer
Rugans hands pull you into him by the waist, leaning down slightly so he can kiss you
It's as he kisses you, passionately, that his hands slowly start to pop open the shirts buttons
It's only when you think Rugan might finally toss you onto the bed that he pulls the shirt on himself and sends you a cheeky wink
As gorgeous as you look in his clothes, Rugans an expert at getting stolen items back
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apompkwrites · 7 months ago
Text
the school-bound kingscholar || leona kingscholar
masterlist characters: Mwezi Miji Trio (OCs), Leona, Ruggie (platonic) genre: Angst contains: (Brief) Swearing, Possible OOC moments (depending on how you view Leona and Ruggie [mainly Leona]) summary: Following the admittance of Night Raven College's newest freshmen, both Kingscholars begin to come to terms with the newest changes in their lives. notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING AGAIN OTZ. Unfortunately, my lapses of writer's block and demotivation have only increased since I last posted. I'm trying to get back into the hang of posting things (as evident by my art account suddenly coming alive again). ALSO! As you can tell by the formatting, I'm actually writing with proper grammar on Tumblr now! Right now, I don't plan to go back to reformat the older chapters, but maybe once I find the drive to do it, I will! Thank you, everyone, for being so patient with me, I really appreciate it <3 parts: [og post] | [previous] | [next]
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Leona felt something knock the air out of his lungs. To Ruggie, who stood right beside him in a robe that was a few inches too long, it was hilarious. Seeing the very prince (well, second prince) of the Afterglow Savanna lose his composure was enough to make Ruggie let out a quiet "Shyeheehee" under his breath before he ultimately straightened his posture under Leona's pointed glare.
Nothing could have prepared Leona to see (Name) again. Honestly, he had long since come to terms with the fact that his little sibling was missing, lost to the Outlands and likely a rotting corpse in the middle of nowhere.
He's lying, he could never come to terms with that, no matter how much he deluded himself.
But they were here. They were here and they were walking closer and they looked exactly the same as he remembered them.
Well, obviously, not exactly. But they looked so familiar and yet so different at the same time. Leona didn't even notice the tip of his tail swishing behind him until he heard one of his dorm members complaining about a tickling sensation against his ankles. And that only caused Leona to grumble under his breath and snatch the base of his tail to stop it from moving.
By the Seven, had they changed. They seemed bolder and more confident compared to the last time he had seen them. The way their shoulders were no longer hunched forward and instead rolled back in a pride strut he wished he could attribute to someone who had come to accept their own status or the way their eyes seemed sharper rather than soft and wide with innocence. And their hands. By the gods, what happened to their hands...? No, they had changed severely, akin to the way Leona recalled seeing the royal guards before and after their training.
Something had happened, that much he could figure out. And as much as he wanted to advance the board, reach out, and capture them like a king in a game of chess, he couldn't. Not when they were surrounded by a queen and two rooks.
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"Ignore him," Nuru advised, although his words were more of a formality if anything. He knew how well you could handle yourself, but this was a unique situation.
"I know," you replied curtly, flipping your hood back on and sidling up to Nuru's right side. Jabori immediately flanked your other side in turn, followed by Jabali. It was a familiar formation, one that the four of you had cultivated for as long as you could remember.
"It doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would," you whisper. However, the sharp pain lingering in your chest said otherwise.
Student after student soon began trickling out of each coffin, repeating the painstaking process of standing in front of the mirror, listening to its spiel about their innermost workings, before joining whatever dorm they were assigned to. Until finally, finally--
"We're done with orientation and dorm assignments?" One of the hooded figures lamented, his hand perched prim and properly on his hip. If you didn't any better, you'd assume that he was royalty or nobility. But, judging from his scent alone, he wasn't.
"Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever," Leona yawned, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he turned on his heels, facing the mass of hooded figures now under his care. "I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me."
He went to take a step amidst the other chattering dorm leaders before the doors slammed open, the handles banging against the wall from the force at which it swung. Leona groaned in response, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Psst, Nuru," Jabali called from his spot beside Jabori, leaning forward to actually see him. "Are you sure this is the right place? We're actually supposed to find answers from..."
Jabali paused and motioned out towards the commotion now terrorizing the mirror chamber. The little gray cat scampered around the floor, setting fire to whatever he could in some strange show of physical prowess and magical ability. "...These people?!"
Nuru said nothing at first. From where you stood beside him, you could tell doubt was beginning to creep up behind him. Lucky for him, Jabori decided to take the lead.
"This is Night Raven College," he points out, pulling back the hood of his robe by a hair to peer over at his twin. "Pretty much everyone here, especially the dorm leaders, are adept at some kind of magic. I mean, look."
This time, Jabori pointed towards the commotion, his finger following the way that the redhead shot a spell in the cat's direction, materializing a red and black collar around its neck.
"It's the best shot we have," he concludes, nodding in support of Nuru. That single gesture instantly calmed Nuru down, his shoulders no longer hunched up and his wings relaxing behind him. You merely smiled and patted his forearm in response. Jabali, on the other hand, grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms in begrudging compliance.
"Fine. But I'm not gonna get along with 'em or nothin'," Jabali huffed, rolling his eyes. Jabori laughed lightly at his brother's annoyance while Nuru let out a single huff of air.
"I wasn't gonna ask you too, either," Nuru hummed, glancing at Jabali from his peripheral. "Same goes for both of you, (Name), Jabori."
"Copy that," you nodded, the quiet chuckle that seemed to bubble from your throat disappearing the second Leona turned to face you and the rest of the new Savanaclaw members.
"You heard the headmage. I'm headin' back," Leona grumbled and, without missing a beat, brushed past the crowd and headed towards the door. Another hooded figure, one who had been standing beside Leona the entire ceremony, let out an exasperated sigh before raising his hand.
"Savanaclaw! Follow me," he ordered, earning a few half-hearted "Yes, sir"s from the rest of the huddled crowd.
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You had to admit, it was pretty entertaining watching Jabali and Jabori marvel at the size of the campus halls. And Nuru too, if only he'd have more obvious reactions rather than just a single flick of a wing or a tilt of the head.
While the halls were nothing compared to the Kingscholar home, it was still pretty big. If you were any smaller than you were now, you'd probably react the same way.
"No way they need these doors to be this big," Jabali murmured, lightly elbowing your arm and pointing at one of the classroom doors. Your eyes followed his finger and a snicker managed to escape you. He wasn't wrong, those doors were freakishly huge, both in height and width.
Jabali went to comment on something else before he stopped, his eyes drifting over toward the new mirror chamber everyone had been led to. The doors were held open to accommodate the crowd, letting handfuls of students walk towards a mirror and get sucked into it, the glass rippling as if took wisps of bodies and left nothing in its wake.
"Savanaclaw House! This'll be your only way in and out of the dorm," the same hooded figure that led you all here called out. He had hopped up onto the lip of the mirror's decoration, using one of the rib-like sculptures as an armrest.
"Hurry up and get in! The faster you do, the faster you'll get to claim your rooms," he snickered before skipping ahead of the first dorm member and hopping into the mirror.
The prospect of first come first served seemed to spur on the first years, causing a near stampede of people trying to get into the mirror first. Nuru hooked an arm around your waist while Jabali did the same with Jabori, the two of them finding a single break in the crowd to get away, Nuru through flight, and Jabali through scaling one of the pillars by the wall.
Lucky for the four of you, the mirror seemed to accommodate more and more people as the crowd diminished. Perhaps through how many bodies reached a specific threshold, you thought. Regardless of the magical mechanics, it allowed Nuru and Jabali to let you and Jabori down after a few minutes.
"So many people," you grumbled under your breath, earning a quiet chuckle from Jabori. Nuru and Jabali nodded at your observation before the four of you hopped into the mirror yourselves.
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Immediately, the four of you felt the familiar searing heat of the sun beating down on your skin. It almost felt like home if not for the increased heat coming from the fire serving as lights just outside the dorm's entrance.
Jabali and Nuru were the first to shrug off their robes, the former because he finally had enough of the stuffy fabric, and the latter because the heat was already starting to congregate around his feathers. You and Jabori followed suit, although the two of you merely hiked up your sleeves and flipped down your hoods.
Nuru shook out his wings and let out a soft grunt, one of his feathers falling into the sand beneath your feet. Turning to look over his shoulder, he shot the three of you a soft, almost comforting smile.
"Off we go, then," he hums, waving for you all to follow. If it were anyone else, you three probably would've found offense to a command as expectant as that. But it wasn't just anyone else. It was Nuru, the Guardian, and your dear friend.
The inside of Savanclaw was nothing really to marvel at like the rest of the school's campus. It wasn't cramped, per se, but it was quite a bit more tight than to your liking. Luckily, the walkway opened up the building quite a bit with the roped bridges connecting each floor.
Nuru scanned the room for a moment before his eyes landed on a room on the top floor, tucked all the way in the furthest corner. You figured everyone else left it since it was so far and their mentalities were focusing on that first come first served promise your leader from before declared.
Nuru unfurled his wings and shot up past the bridges, making a beeline towards the unoccupied room. He didn't have to go that fast, of course, considering only a few students were lingering in the walkways who sure as hell weren't planning on making the long walk up there.
Jabali seemed to share their sentiment considering his frustrated "Damn it, Nuru" muttered under his breath. A long, drawn-out sigh escaped his lips before he trudged up along the nearest bridge, his hands shoved in his pockets and his robe slung haphazardly over his shoulder.
You and Jabori took a more relaxed walk up behind him, appreciating the familiar decorations that reminded you of your hometown. Of course, that appreciation turned into apprehension at the thought of Mwezi Miji now being unguarded by the main four.
What if something happened? What if they had sent word of an all-out war between themselves and the Dens and you hadn't heard of it since you all were knocked out in coffins? What if they were all already--
"On your right," Nuru called to you from the doorway, his hand shooting out to grab your shoulder. Ah, you had gotten distracted. Nuru shot you a concerned glance, his brows furrowed in the same way they always were when you got stuck in your head before he ushered you into the room.
Jabali and Jabori had already claimed their beds on the left side of the room, Jabali near the door and Jabori near the window. This left the entire right side open for you and Nuru.
The winged beastman glanced over at you, patiently waiting for your next move. You caught his glance and mustered up a small smile before heading towards the bed closest to the door. Nuru subtly lit up at your decision, a little skip in his step as he moved towards the window.
You managed to hold back a snort at his hidden excitement. He always loved the window spot. Maybe it reminded him of when he was small enough to fit through them back home.
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"So, what's up with you and that new first year, huh?" Ruggie huffed as he walked straight into Leona's room, leaning down to pick up a discarded shirt and dropping it in the laundry basket. "I've never seen you react that way other than with them."
"Watch your words, Ruggie," Leona growls from the bed, his head already buried in his pillow. His back was facing Ruggie who still stood in the doorway, but with the way his ears were perked up, it was fairly obvious that he wasn't even close to sleeping.
"My bad," Ruggie snicked in response, holding up his hands defensively. "But, seriously, who was that? Someone I need to watch the pockets of? I mean, who else would it be if not roy--"
"Out," Leona demanded, his hand latching onto his pillow and launching it backward at Ruggie, the soft fabric turning into dust and scattering across the floor as he muttered the incantation under his breath. Ruggie yelped and scampered out of the room, throwing the door closed behind him before he could see the pillow disintegrate into sand.
Leona took a single breath through his nose before slowly sitting up. He rubbed at his face before reaching over to the desk placed beside his bed, his fingers curling around the drawer's handle and pulling it open.
Underneath notebooks thrown carelessly inside lay a single photograph. It was small, yet free of any creases. He lifted the books off of it before slipping the photo out, nearly cradling it in his palm.
Back when he first found the photo tucked neatly in one of his notebooks, he grimaced. It was an annoying keepsake, one that only served to remind him of the bothersome family waiting for him back home. But now...
Now the sight of his little sibling smiling ever so brightly while his older brother screamed in the background about a bug in his hair brought the smallest twitch of a smile to his lips.
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incognit0slut · 2 years ago
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Right Kind of Wrong (5)
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She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye
Part summary: Spencer’s lack of experience on the female anatomy is educated by her. wc: 4,7k
Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murder
a/n: sorry it took me longer to update, kind of went through a writer’s block but finally got back the vibe
Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
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SPENCER WAS A MAN ON A MISSION. His steps echoed on the marble floor the next morning as he entered the mundane space of the bureau, hand gripping the strap of his bag. The glass door separating the familiarity of his disorganized desk greeted him, but before he could enter the room, his heels turned towards a certain part of the office he was accustomed to.
He pushed the door at the end of the hallway to find Garcia typing away on her keyboard, her eyes fixated on the screen in front of her. The sudden sound of his arrival startled her before she swiveled in her chair, because the man standing by the door hardly visited her this early, especially when he still had his bag thrown over his shoulder.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the good doctor." She leaned back in her chair and gave him a grin. "What do I owe the pleasure of your presence in the safety of my lair?"
Spencer took a cautious step into the room as he closed the door behind him. "I need you to find me an address."
"That is my specialty." She turned back to her monitors. "Hit me."
"Y/n L/n."
There was a heavy pause as her fingers hovered above the keyboard. The familiarity of the name had her eying him as he stepped into her line of vision. "Isn't she one of the witnesses you talked to last night?"
He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Yes, she is."
"And you need her address because...?"
"I..." A sense of dread and anxiety hit him as he felt the intensity of her scrutinizing gaze. "I—I have further questions to ask."
Garcia wasn't an expert in profiling, unlike most of her teammates, but she wasn't blind when it came to picking out other people's sudden change of composure. Spencer's usually calm demeanor was suddenly replaced with discomfort, something that rarely occurred unless the topic of conversation extremely flustered him.
"You know," she started, slightly twisting her body. "Morgan told me something interesting happened last night, and I'm usually not one to gossip—" She rolled her eyes at the look he gave her. "Alright, fine, maybe I am. But it's not gossip if it's true."
His face twisted into a frown. "What did he tell you?"
"That the pretty witness lady may or may not know you personally." When he didn't respond, she urged on, "So? Is it true?"
Spencer quickly dropped his gaze to the floor. He considered himself to be a very private person, one that didn't share much about their personal life. The introverted trait in him preferred the comfort of spending his time engrossed with his own thoughts than engaging in unnecessary, awkward conversations with others. So whenever he received attention regarding his private matters, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under the spotlight.
"I cannot confirm nor deny that."
She scoffed. "You do realize you're not making it any less suspicious, right?"
She then proceeded in typing the name of the woman he had met the previous night but immediately stopped, her eyes piercing back at him. "What?"
"I will give you the address if you tell me whether you need it for work or personal reasons."
This was why he disliked human interaction. Couldn't one go on with their own lifestyle without questioning another person's way of life?
He let out an irritated sigh. "Garcia."
"Reid."
He pondered whether he could get away without explaining the intention of his request. But this was Penelope Garcia, known to be relentless with an interest in exchanging information about the personal lives of the team members. There was no other choice than to cave in if he wanted to avoid her persistent persuasion, so he answered—although reluctantly—in a very low voice, "Personal reasons.”
"I knew it!" She gleefully laughed. She focused her attention back onto her monitor, her fingers working their wonders before a passport picture of a woman stared back at them through the screen. "Ooh, she's pretty."
She really was. The person staring back at him was smiling, something he hadn't seen the last time he saw her. Her smile was an incredibly beautiful thing to behold. It was also incredibly contagious as he found his lips curling into a smile of his own, his eyes scanning across every feature on her radiant face. He was completely enthralled, it was as if her beauty had a grip on him, putting him in some sort of trance.
She was absolutely beautiful.
"Do you want me to save her picture? Send it to your phone?"
He felt the warmth spreading along his cheeks. "No." He turned his gaze towards the address printed on the left side of the screen, memorizing the exact street and the number of her residential.
"When I said you were a Casanova, I didn't think it would come to this extent." He threw her a frown as she explained, "A few days ago you had a lady friend at your place, and now this."
Spencer pursed his lips together. His palms immediately began to sweat as she sent him a wicked grin. His silence was all that it took for her to bounce in her chair, hands clapping at the irony of the situation. "No way. Are you telling me this is the same woman you met at the bar? The same stranger you spent the night with is the exact witness you talked to last night?"
He turned on his heels. "Goodbye, Garcia."
"Wait—no!" She grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to face her again. "Oh my god, I am so invested. This is way more entertaining than the show I'm currently watching!"
He heaved out a sigh. "I'm glad you can find amusement in my misery."
"Misery? This isn't misery, sweetheart, this is amazing. When was the last time you were involved with someone?" Far too long, he thought to himself, but his answer must've shown across his face. "Exactly. Now, aren't you glad I didn't show up that night?"
He shook his head, deciding not to answer her question, and crossed his arms instead. "This stays between us, okay?"
She nodded eagerly. "Of course."
"And you can't even mention this to Morgan."
"What?" She groaned as he proceeded to scowl at her. "Alright, alright. He will not hear any of this."
He assessed her one last time, cautiously weighing any possibility of her bluff. But when she returned his gaze with a suddenly concerned stare, he had to double-check whether he was seeing right. The mischievous glint in her eyes was replaced by a deep sense of worry, her face melting into the familiar solemn look she flashed whenever she had something important to say.
"Hey, Reid." She leaned back in her chair, tilting her head to the side. "You'll be careful, right?"
The sudden grimness of her tone caught him by surprise. "What do you mean?"
She paused for a moment, trying to sort out her words without wanting to offend him. "I just want to remind you that we're currently in the middle of investigating a case that involves her."
"She's only a witness," he pointed out.
"Doesn't make her any less important. Reid, when you're emotionally involved with anyone who is linked to a case we're working on, there's a high chance it can get messy. You know that."
Oh, how he knew that all too well. He knew how very unhealthy it could be, and how getting emotionally attached to someone involved in a case could lead to irrational or compromised decision-making. It could be a potential source of bias and it could make anyone put their personal feelings above what was best for the investigation. It could cloud people’s judgment. This was something that he would never recommend, something that he would urge anyone on the team to avoid doing.
So was he being rational now? Was running a background check on someone for personal reasons deemed appropriate?
Probably not. It was a very risky thing to consider, but Spencer was smart enough to understand how important it was to keep his emotions intact. The possibility of things getting out of hand would only happen if he couldn't keep it under control, which he was certain that he could, and he would never let anything stop him from doing his job.
"I'll be careful," he finally responded. "Thanks, Garcia."
"You are most definitely welcome, lover boy." She gave him a genuine smile before turning back toward her devices. "Now go and get your girl so I can go back to my work."
His body tensed. "She's not my girl."
She threw him a look that told him she didn't believe a word he said, something he was starting to question himself. He quickly shook his head and strode out of the room, completely denying Garcia's admission, because in his mind, Y/n was merely the stranger he met on one random night. She was simply the woman who ended up in his bed. She was the mysterious enigma who slipped into the night with nothing but a nod. She was the one who looked at him in disbelief at their unexpected encounter.
She was all of the things above, but she was definitely not his girl.
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"You need to install a security camera."
Tapping her fingers lightly against the mug in her hands, eyes fixed on the black liquid of the freshly brewed coffee, Y/n blew out a rough breath. "Please worry about yourself."
"Or better yet, get a dog," the man across from her suggested. "Those big hound dogs that would scare people off. They can easily sense danger when they see one."
"Why would I need a dog when I have you?"
He frowned at her. "I'm being serious."
"And you think I'm not?"
He went completely still, his eyes trailing across her face. "Is that a trick question?"
She took a sip of the warm coffee, letting it calm her frustration as she pondered whether kicking him out of her own house was a better option than dragging him out through the door.
"Oliver," she muttered, her voice laced with annoyance while she carefully put down her mug on the countertop. "You have practically stationed yourself in my house, barking at anyone you think might be a potential danger."
"Y/n," he followed her gesture, leaning closer into the small space of her kitchen. "It's for your safety."
"You shouted at my mailman!"
"He took an awful lot of time talking to you."
She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to cause a scene in the sanctuary of her own home. She had woken up this morning, limbs tangled in her sheet and body aching from all the emotions she went through the previous night, and decided she would spend the day relaxing the tension in her nerves. Do some grocery shopping, head to the beauty salon to get a manicure and a nice haircut that was long overdue, and ravish herself with a delicious meal at the new restaurant she had been wanting to visit.
But all her plans went down the drain when she heard a loud knock the moment she opened her eyes. She found Oliver standing on her front porch, holding his trademark smile and amiable posture, before lunging at her with concern while asking a bunch of questions related to what had happened.
At first, she accepted his worry, what was she to do when a friend came to her house to make sure she was doing alright? But the longer he stayed the more she wondered whether letting him inside her home was the smartest thing to do. She knew Oliver was a very persistent person, but she wasn't aware of him being this insufferable.
"You know what would make me feel safe?" She walked out of the kitchen, expecting him to follow her, something he had been doing throughout the day. "For you to stop breathing down my neck and let me enjoy my weekend in peace."
Her plan worked, he was already hot on her heels as he watched her stalk toward the front area of her house. "I came by to check in on you."
"Since the morning, it's almost 5 PM." She tugged the door open before stepping to the side. "I'm sure I can manage on my own now—"
"Who’s that?"
Shd followed his line of sight and frowned when a black vehicle stopped right at her curb, its engine cutting off a moment later. She watched as the door wrenched open and felt her heart drop as a familiar face stared directly back. The shock of seeing someone unexpected took her by surprise, it was an incredibly powerful feeling that left her pretty shaken up and even a little bit stunned, because right on her driveway was none other than Spencer-fucking-Reid.
Seeing him in action for his job last night was enough to captivate her. But watching him in a tight FBI vest over a button-down with his sleeves rolled up, showing off firm arms and veins running along the back of his hands, mesmerized her in a way that had her weak in the knees.
Suits had become the sexiest thing she'd ever seen on a man after she saw him last night—firmly replacing uniforms, she had always been a sucker for military men... until now. The authority he held wearing that vest easily became her favorite clothing on a man. On him precisely, including the gun strapped to the side of his hip. How the sight of a dangerous weapon on him could be so attractive was beyond her.
She felt Oliver inching closer, his voice extremely low, "Do you want me to bark?"
She heard his words perfectly, but her attention was too focused on the other man as he stepped onto her porch. She wasn't questioning how he got her address—because authorities could easily search any citizen's information, right?—but she was curious why he bothered coming to her house. "What are you doing here?"
Sensing the recognition in her voice, Oliver addressed the unknown man with a hard stare. "Who are you again?"
"Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid," he introduced himself, flashing his badge. "I have further questions for Ms. L/n regarding a certain case."
"You mean Jamison's murder?"
Spencer nodded, leveling his gaze with the man who stood too close to her for his liking. "I need to talk to her personally."
It was another way for him to urge Oliver out of her house, Y/n noted, which was something she didn't oppose. Oliver tensed beside her, throwing her a doubtful look. "Will you be fine?"
Would she be fine being left alone with someone she wanted nothing to do after everything that happened? Maybe not. But it was better than to have Oliver gluing himself in her home. "I’ll be fine. You can go, Oliver."
The two men addressed one another, and the mood suddenly turned intense. Spencer was very cautious and deliberate with each of his movements, trying to be intuitive and on alert for any possible threat or danger. But then Oliver nodded his head and smiled at him, shrugging away any tension that lingered in the air.
He turned towards her. "Call me if you need anything."
She stepped aside and let him pass, breathing out a grateful sigh as she finally watched him walk down the street.
"Boyfriend?"
"No," she quickly replied, frowning at the idea of Oliver being her partner. Then she shot Spencer a look. "Not that it's any of your business."
He probably deserved that. He nodded behind her as his eyes scanned the entrance of her house. "Can I come in?"
There was something about letting the man into her home. It was a very special and sacred place that brought peace and joy after a long day of work. Letting him into the comfort of her house meant letting him into a personal part of herself.
She opened the door further before he stepped inside, his eyes scanning every nook and corner. She cleared her throat and closed the door behind her. "So, you wanted to ask me more questions?"
There was a moment of silence as he turned around. "I actually came here to apologize." When she didn't respond, he added, "About last night."
She narrowed her eyes. "What exactly are you apologizing for?"
"It seemed we got off the wrong foot yesterday and I want to apologize if I offended you in any way."
The memory of last night's encounter flashed before her eyes; their unexpected encounter, the way he acted as if he had never held her naked, and how he wanted no one else to know their tryst, keeping it as a mere rendezvous between two strangers. There was some truth in that, but there was also another truth in her disappointment, and suddenly she was extremely tired of all these emotions.
"Last night was... it was awkward for both of us,” she decided to say. "Why don't we forget it ever happened?"
"Forget what?"
"Everything?" She crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "About last night, about—" She mentally winced. "About what happened the first night we met.”
She noticed the way his shoulders tensed. His eyes had narrowed almost imperceptibly as he studied her quietly in return. "Why?"
"What do you mean why?”
"Why do you want to forget that night?"
There was something unnerving about the way he looked at her. One of her hands nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she eyed him. She felt her heart rate pick up slightly—there could only be one reason he was asking this, right?
"Do you not want to forget it?"
She could see the way his cheeks were twitching, the muscles working as if he was weighing his next words. He took a step forward, cautiously scanning his eyes across her face. Staring wasn't quite the word for what he was doing. His eyes rested on her, not unblinking but slowed; yet the effect was soft and inviting instead of harsh or demanding. Perhaps it was his lips that give away his intention, like a ghost of a smile peeking through his features in the stillness of the room.
"What if I want a repeat of it?"
She is nhaled a sharp breath, her heart rate drastically climbing in her chest she could feel her pulse vibrating through her entire body. His unvoiced suggestion hung heavily in the air. She felt that first warm flood of arousal struck her, the blood in her body abruptly shifting south.
A shiver ran down her spine, goosebumps abruptly rising along her forearms. "What are you trying to say?"
His mouth pulled back into a slow smile before she watched him inch forward, carefully closing the distance between them. A moment later he was leaning towards her, reaching his hands out deliberately slow. Her eyes followed their movements, her breathing increasing as his hands found her own. Carefully, he started to pull her, moving extremely slow, as if giving her plenty of time to register what was happening and a chance for her to pull away.
But she didn't, instead, her body followed his direction, letting him tug her across the small gap separating them.
"I grew up in Las Vegas," he suddenly said, hands moving up her arms. "I was a child prodigy in a public school, and believe it or not, I've suffered worse things growing up than in my line of work now."
Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"Last night you didn't know the city I grew up in." A smile stretched across his lip. "And now you do."
The hands on her arms gripped a bit tighter, carefully urging her to move closer. The warmth radiating from his body was already driving her wild. How was it possible for one person to make her feel like she was completely losing her mind?
He was playing with fire, and she was practically a moth to a flame.
Her hands cautiously slid along his shoulders and up the length of his neck. She felt a faint rumble in his throat as her fingertips slid over the skin of it. Her eyes focused on the way he was watching her, eyes fluttering in a haze, mouth slightly parted. Biting her lip, she slipped her hand into his disheveled hair, carefully raking her fingers through the softness of it. He instantly leaned into the touch as she felt the growing need in her rising.
"Is this even allowed?" She breathed out, shuddering at the way the firmness of his vest pressed against her chest. "Fornicating with the witness?"
"It's probably not the wisest thing to do," was his honest reply.
She pulled him closer as she felt his arms settling around her waist. "Yet you still want to break the rules?"
Eyes dropping down to her mouth, his gaze lingered on her luscious lips. Gradually he leaned down towards her, his own lips parting as their breaths mingled in the small space between them. He shifted his forehead against hers, his nose lightly bumping into her own.
"Wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."
And then he closed the gap, caressing his lips just barely against hers, before thrusting himself into her open mouth, an obvious level of hungry desperation in the way he devoured her whole. He'd wanted this—wanted to taste her again ever since she stood unexpectedly in front of him. Sucking the entirety of her bottom lip into his mouth, she let out a moan. That glorious, soft, perfect, bit of flesh fit entirely into his mouth. His tongue danced along the length of it, a deep grunt coming from his throat as she melted further in his arms.
Spencer’s hands grabbed her hard by the hips as he tugged her into his body so tight she could feel his arousal pressing into her. She gasped in surprise, and he took the moment to lunge deeper into her mouth, feverishly in a flurry of tongue and teeth, his mouth only riling her further. The feeling of his tongue colliding against hers sent her into a nose dive of indescribable sensation. The longer the kiss lasted, the hotter she felt, and the warmer her skin got. 
She breathed out another moan, fingers carding through the lengthier parts of his hair. The more his mouth moved against hers, the harder it was becoming to hold back. She was pouncing on him, kissing him back with as much fervor, and slightly let out a whimper when he pulled back. His mouth broke from hers, slipping down to place kisses along her jawline. She bit her lip, head tilting back just as he muttered, "Tell me how you want to be touched."
The request had her pulling back, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"
"What you said last night..." He explained, a sudden insecurity weighing in his eyes. "It got to my head."
Mouth opening and closing, she stared at him in stunned silence. Then the realization hit her on what he was implying. "I said that out of the heat of the moment," she assured him. "I was simply mad at you."
Although the way she was trying to avoid his gaze told him otherwise. "I'm a profiler. I can tell if you're lying."
She couldn't stop the amused laugh slipping through her lips. "Look," she started, slightly tugging his hair. "It wasn't that you were bad. But you could've been, I don't know—better, perhaps?"
"You do know how to bruise a man's ego," he muttered, more to himself than to her. He let out a sigh as she stared at him in amusement. "Let me be honest with you, I don't have that much experience with women, but..." he trailed off, pressing a soft kiss at the corner of her lips. "I do want to know how you want to be touched."
She could feel her amusement slipping away as she struggled to wrap her mind around what was happening, breath coming in short, her body filled with a warmth that wasn't just from her growing arousal. "You're being serious, aren't you?"
"Very." His nose intentionally bumped against hers this time, the hand on her lower back somehow holding her tighter to him. “I have three bachelor's degrees and completed three doctorate programs, learning and excelling in new subjects is engraved deep in my blood."
She playfully shoved him. "Show off."
He simply smiled, slightly pulling away. His head turned just a fraction towards her, hands sliding along her hips. “Tell me how I can be better for you.”
She stared at him, completely enthralled with the way his eyes lingered across her face—her eyes, her nose, her mouth. This was dangerous, letting herself fall deeper into this lust, but somehow it felt right. It felt incredibly right to feel his arms around her. It felt perfectly right as she snaked her arms behind her, grabbed onto his hand, and pulled him deeper into her home.
Her mind was too clouded with a desire to think clearly, and even when a little voice at the back of her head reminded her how wrong getting tangled with an authority in this situation was, she simply decided not to listen. Instead, she guided him toward her living room and walked him over to the single-seated sofa before placing her hands on his chest.
Spencer’s brows drew together, a small crease forming between them. She gently pushed him back, the back of his legs hitting the furniture as he settled himself between the soft cushions. He sat there, staring expectantly at her standing before him. Ignoring any self-conscious thoughts, she gripped the bottom of her blouse and swiftly pulled it over her head.
His eyes went wide. “What are you doing?"
A coy smile stretched across her mouth as she undid her pants, noticing the way he is eyes were focused on every little move she made. His question was left unanswered as she slipped off her jeans, kicking them off as they finally slid down her legs. Then she unclasped her bra and his mouth opened, eyes narrowing as his head tilted back, his tongue slowly sweeping along his bottom lip. He instinctively reached out, his calloused pads brushed her bare skin and a shudder ran down her spine before she slipped away from his touch.
He groaned a moment later. “Where are you going?”
She shook her head, still not answering him. She then turned around with her back facing him, and because she found pleasure in the way his eyes glazed every time she teased him, her fingers grabbed the band of her underwear, slowly sliding it down her legs. He let out a strained whimper as the evidence of her slick arousal clung onto the fabric, and it took a lot of self-control for him to stay still.
And when she finally turned around, he took in the sight of her naked form standing before him. She was as beautiful as he remembered, so perfectly made—full breasts, hips, thighs—the body of a woman as a woman was meant to be. But before he could devour her naked flesh with his eyes, she took a step back before sinking herself onto the longer couch, a wicked smile playing on her lips.
There was something compelling being the one in charge, even when she seemed to be the only one naked, wearing nothing but a taunting smile while he sat there still in the confinement of his vest. Good lord—that vest. It was doing things to her. The vest. The hair. That look. The way he was watching her wrecked her and now she was wondering how much longer she could put on a show until he came undone.
"I'm not going to tell you how I want to be touched.” Her sultry voice rang in his ears as she leaned back, her knees falling apart. And when he thought she couldn’t drive him more insane than he already was, her fingers slipped between her legs painfully slow. Goosebumps rose along his skin, a shudder of anticipation running down his body.
“I think I might have to show you."
He let out a strangled sigh.
She was going to be the death of him.
>> NEXT PART
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crucifiedfaerie · 10 months ago
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Nicotine Stains | Pt. 2 ༉₊˚✧
Modern!Kylo x Fem!Reader AU
➴ Summary: As your relationship with Kylo grows behind closed doors, so does your worry and confusion about what exactly you are to him.
➴ Part One
➴ Word Count: 5.2k
➴ Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dom!kylo, modern!delinquent!kylo au, smoking, swearing, quite a bit of angst, kylo is a stupid man who doesn't know how real relationships work apparently, he also doesn't know what communication is, reader is in her head about it, mutual pining, finnpoe my loves make an appearance (its canon to me idgaf), fluff, kinda hurt with comfort, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, car sex, softdom!kylo, kinda breeding kink ?? oops), typos probably
➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams @beautifulbluejay @mochiseni )
A/N: im alive !!!!! holy shit i promised this would be out in like november. oops. the writers block has been so real im sorry. now that i have this out though, chapter two of growing pains will be coming next !! i promise i didn't abandon that.... anyways i hope you enjoy !!
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You impatiently sat, knees tucked beneath you and head resting on the back of your family’s couch so you could look out the window. The men in your life had been away for a week and a half, and while you couldn't deny having Finn out of your hair for once was like a peaceful vacation in itself, you missed Kylo like crazy. Having to look at his sleek, black Charger parked in front of your house every time you looked out of your window didn't necessarily help either.
When he told you Finn had asked him to tag along on their annual camping trip, you couldn't help but laugh. The image of Kylo trying to fit his tall, broad frame into a tiny shared tent with your father and brother was too hilarious to you.
"What’s so funny, kid?" He had laughed back at you.
Usually, Poe was the one to go on those trips with your brother and father, but with him away at pilot school, Finn had been lonely recently. He wasn't expecting himself to take it so hard, but gods did he miss Poe. Despite missing Kylo, you were glad he agreed to go and keep Finn company. Your father, of course, was also overjoyed to hear that Kylo would be joining.
Your eyes lit up as your father's beat-up car pulled into the driveway. You watched as they unpacked the car and exchanged words you couldn't hear before Kylo parted ways and headed to his car with his bag hanging off his shoulder. When he reached the driver's side door, he noticed you in the window and gave you a subtle wink before getting into the Charger and pulling away. 
Part of you was expecting... hoping for him to come in, but you should have known he wouldn't. It's not like your family knew of your weird relationship that had been blossoming for the past month. You couldn't help but still feel a little disappointed, you hoped maybe he would have just said fuck it and come in and kissed you. Maybe he didn't miss you as much as you had missed him? Your heart sank at the idea. 
The mixed signals Kylo had been giving you were starting to give you whiplash. One minute he would be in your room treating you like you're the only person in the world who matters to him, and the next he'd be standing in the kitchen talking to Finn or your mother, not even giving you so much as a glance. 
The thought of asking him about what exactly the two of you were honestly made you wanna die. You didn't want to come off as clingy and ruin whatever it was you had, but the twinge of hurt that came with every time he ignored your presence was starting to become… too much. 
You sighed and walked upstairs to your room, feeling defeated. You practically collapsed in your chair before putting on your headphones and starting on some schoolwork, attempting to think about anything but Kylo. 
A thump muffled by the music in your ears broke you from your calculus-induced trance. When you turned around in your chair you were met with Kylo on your bedroom floor, who you assumed had just fallen through your window. You giggled at him, pulling your headphones down to rest around your neck. 
He groaned before sitting up and smiling at you. "I meant to do that." 
"Sure." You laughed, getting out of your seat to join him on the floor.
Kylo leaned against the wall, pulling you into his lap. He gave you a quick kiss before pulling away and looking down at you with those pretty brown eyes you can never seem to get enough of these days. "I leave for nearly two weeks to go into the middle of nowhere, and I can't even get a text from my girl when I get home?" He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
You felt the warmth creep across your cheeks at the way he called you his. "I got carried away with homework, I didn't even realize what time it was." You glanced at the window behind him, noticing the dark indigo hue of the sky.
Kylo smiled, peppering small kisses down your jaw. "What were you listening to?" He lightly tapped your headphones with his long fingers. You took them off before carefully placing them over his ears. "Chevelle? I see my good taste continues to rub off on you kid." He grinned.
"Don't be so full of yourself. My dad loves Chevelle, I got it from him." You laughed, taking the headphones from him and tossing them into your chair. Kylo smiled before standing up, taking you with him, and setting you on your bed gently. His kiss was needy, and he slowly pushed you backward until you were lying down.
He pulled away, out of breath slightly. "Do you know how much I missed this? You were on my mind every night I was there... I couldn't even jack off because we were in that stupid tent..." He paused, shutting his eyes. "You didn't hear that." 
You giggled. "You jerk off thinking about me? Are you obsessed with me or something?"
Kylo laughed, rolling his eyes. "You idiot." He attacked your face with kisses that tickled, causing you to let out a half scream. "Shhh kid, your mom's gonna think you're being murdered up here." 
As if he had summoned her, you heard a knock at your bedroom door. Kylo quickly stood up from your bed, rushing over to your closet and maneuvering himself inside before shutting the door quietly.
You shook your head at him, stifling a laugh and taking your seat back at your desk, pretending to look like you were doing something. "You can come in." 
Your mother opened the door with a soft creak. "Were you talking to someone?"
You quickly fabricated a lie. "I was just on the phone with a friend from my class." 
Your mom nodded, briefly glancing around your room. "I actually came up here to tell you to ask Kylo if he's coming to dinner on Friday. I meant to ask when they came home earlier, but he left so fast I missed him." 
Your hands felt sweaty. Why would she ask you to ask him? Did she know? "Why wouldn't you ask Finn to talk to Kylo?" 
She leaned on the doorframe slightly. "Well he's been driving you to and from class a lot recently, just ask him for me tomorrow would you? And you better make sure to thank that boy for driving you around! It's very nice of him."
It took everything in you to hold back the laugh that threatened to surface. You just knew Kylo was doing the same. "Yeah, I'll ask him." You had almost forgotten you had class in the morning. Fuck.
"Thank you. Goodnight, I love you." She began to shut your door. "Remember. Tell him thank you." 
"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, I love you." You laughed as you listened to her footsteps disappear down the hall.
You leaned forward in your chair to open your closet door. Kylo chuckled softly. "Is there something you needed to say to me?... Sorry, I couldn't hear the conversation very well with this door in the way." He smirked, taking a step towards you. 
"Oh shut up." You smiled back at him. 
He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his long arms around you. Your face pressed into his shirt, the smell of blackberries and pomelo from his cologne filling your senses. "It's fine, you can thank me in different ways." He whispered into the top of your head.
You giggled nervously, feeling your face get hot again. "Yeah?"
Kylo took your face into his hands and leaned back as if to study you. "Yeah..." He smirked. "But not tonight, you have class tomorrow, remember?" He kissed you again before letting you go and making his way towards your window. 
You groaned at him. "Why not just stay the night?" You asked sweetly, following him.
He smiled down at you with adoration. "What, so we both wake up late and you miss your class? Your parents would hate me." Kylo smirked
My mother and father could never hate you, stupid.
"Fine." You sighed, not having the courage to argue.
He leaned down and kissed you again, deeper this time. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?" 
"Okay." You said it so quietly you weren't sure if he even heard it. He ducked out of your window, shutting it quietly. You watched as he climbed down and went to his car in the darkness. Once his tail lights had disappeared at the end of your street, you collapsed onto your bed, allowing your body to succumb to sleep and silence your racing mind. 
Friday afternoon, you sat at the table in your overly warm kitchen, trying to finish some classwork as your mother cooked. The sound of the doorbell made your heart leap out of your chest. You'd been anticipating today all week and while you were hoping it was Kylo at the door, a part of you was also hoping he'd show up late so you wouldn't have to endure getting ignored by him so much.
You heard your dad open the door. "Hi Son, what a pleasant surprise!" You felt your palms get clammy. "Finn! Come down here!" Your father shouted up the stairs. You craned your neck to look around the corner and see who it was, hearing Finn's quick footsteps as he made his way down the steps. 
It was Poe. He stood in the foyer, dressed nicely but still wearing that worn, brown leather jacket he always wore. He held a bouquet of orange and white lilies. You smiled, those were Finn's favorite. 
"Poe!" Finn nearly knocked Poe over with how quickly he hugged him. "You said you wouldn't be back until summer!" 
Poe wrapped his arms around him, laughing. "You know I had to surprise you." He pressed a kiss to Finn's forehead. "Hey, don't crush the flowers, they barely made it on the trip down here." 
Finn pulled away, beaming at him. He took the flowers into his hands before kissing Poe.
You looked at your mother, who was grinning almost as wide as Finn was. "Aren't they just adorable? When you find someone, they better treat you as good as Poe treats Finn." She smiled at you. You gave her a weak smile back and nodded, looking back at the textbook in front of you. 
You couldn't help but wish Kylo would do that. Showing up at your door with flowers, instead of sneaking through your window no later than 11 pm to smoke weed and fuck. It wasn't like your parents wouldn't approve of him... they have always adored Kylo for no reason at all. You attempted to focus on the pages in front of you, it was ridiculous to dwell so deeply on a man you weren't even actually sure was yours.
Kylo showed up fashionably late of course. Your mother beamed at the sight of him standing in the entryway. "Kylo honey, I was worried you weren't going to come. Go ahead and sit." 
He smiled sweetly at her. "You know I wouldn't miss your wonderful cooking for anything." To your surprise, he took the seat right beside you, something he never does when he's over for dinner. 
Other than small glances, Kylo did not acknowledge your presence at the beginning of dinner. He mostly caught up with Poe and talked cars with your father. As you picked at the food on your plate, you felt a large, warm hand rest on your thigh. When you turned your head to look up at Kylo, he seemed unphased, deep in conversation with Poe.
"How is pilot school treating you, man?" Kylo asked, his one hand inching further up your thigh as he took a bite from his fork with the other hand. 
You felt warmth creep across your cheeks as you clenched your thighs together, causing his grip on you to tighten slightly.
He cannot possibly be serious? The fucking dinner table?
You looked at him again, chewing on the inside of your mouth and attempting to relax as much as you could. Kylo glanced down at you briefly, a sly smirk playing at his lips and his pupils large. He turned back to his conversation with Poe as he inched his long fingers underneath your skirt, brushing them against your clothed cunt.
You felt a moan threaten to escape your lips so you pretended to clear your throat, causing Kylo to fight back a grin. He was enjoying this way too much... This was all too much. You quickly grabbed his hand in an attempt to keep him from going any further. Thank god for your mother's tablecloth or everyone would have seen what was happening. 
You weren't sure what it was, maybe the obvious flush on your face, but your mother had noticed something was up. "Is something wrong sweetheart?" 
You tried to think of something, anything reasonable to say but your brain felt so foggy. 
Oh you know, Finn's best friend and so-called 'angel' in your eyes is playing with my cunt under the dinner table but doesn't have the decency to take me out on a date, no biggie.
"I'm fine, it's just really hot in here." You managed to get out, fiddling with the neck of your sweater. Kylo had removed his hand which was now resting on your knee. You sighed, silently thanking the gods of every pantheon you could think of. Moaning in front of your entire family at dinner wasn't exactly ideal. Despite the wetness growing in your panties, you wanted nothing more than to strangle him right there.
The rest of dinner was a blur, and at some point, Finn, Poe, and Kylo had disappeared to the basement, most likely to drink and play video games. This allowed you to sneak away to your room, the noise from the TV downstairs dissipating into a soft murmur as you shut your bedroom door behind you.
-
"FINN! I'm getting obliterated over here and you're on the other side of the map fucking around!" 
"I'm literally almost there calm down!" 
Kylo sat on the couch, listening as Finn and Poe bickered over the game they were playing, loud gunshots and explosions emanating from the television as Poe was, in fact, being obliterated. 
His knee bounced up and down nervously. As much as he enjoyed seeing Poe again and playing video games like old times, all Kylo could think about was seeing you again. 
You had seemed a little off today, did he do something wrong?
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, taking a few minutes to type, delete, and retype his message to you, finally deciding on something lighthearted. 
Kylo: where'd you disappear to kid? you're missing out on some riveting gameplay down here.
The blue glow of his screen illuminated in his hands a few minutes later, and he felt a wave of excitement course through his body when he saw that you had responded. 
♡: i forgot i had a paper i needed to finish.
Kylo frowned at his phone, it was 9:30 pm on a Friday. Surely he had done something to upset you. He sighed before trying to formulate another text to send back to you.
Finn’s voice pulled him from his anxious thoughts. “There are more beers in the garage, I’ll be right back.” Kylo watched as he kissed Poe quickly before sprinting up the stairs.
“So,” Poe started, leaning closer with a grin on his face. “Any new girls or are you still fixated on your best friend's sister?” 
Kylo groaned, knowing this would come up. “That was in middle school, I wouldn’t have told you then had I known now you’d still be bringing this up years later.” He laughed nervously.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ren.” Poe laughed. “Elementary, middle, high school… Hell, four months ago before I left, you were talking about her.” He shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth before continuing. “I don’t know why you won’t just go for it. Their parents already love you, I don’t think it’ll be a big deal like you think it will be.”
“You don’t get it Poe, they like me as Finn’s friend. She’s in college and I have nothing ahead of me except a court date for a speeding ticket next week. But if you must know, we’ve been… talking and hanging out for the past month and I’m pretty sure I’ve already made her mad at me so… yeah.” Kylo said tiresomely. 
Poe’s eyes lit up. “What the hell dude? Were you just not going to tell me-”
“We got lucky, there was only three left.” Their conversation was cut short, to Kylo’s relief, by Finn coming down the stairs holding three crisp cans of beer, the condensation leaving a damp mark on the front of his shirt.
“I was actually about to head home.” Kylo said, standing from the old, sunken couch. 
Finn groaned in protest, setting the cans on the water-stained coffee table. “Just stay for another game or two, I’ll let you take my spot.” 
“Yeah, just another game or two.” Poe chimed in, his eyes wide, silently pleading with him to stay in hopes Kylo would tell him more. 
“Sorry guys, I’m just really tired tonight.” Kylo shot Poe a look. “I’m coming back over tomorrow.” With Finn’s back turned momentarily, he took the opportunity to mouth “Drop it.”
“Fine, but no flaking out on us or we will drag you out of your home.” Finn smirked.
Kylo nodded in agreement, laughing slightly, before making his way up the stairs into the kitchen. Your parents had already gone to bed, the refrigerator humming and ticking clock being the only noise that filled the quiet darkness. 
He silently made his way up the stairs to your room, taking a breath once he reached your door before opening it slowly. Once inside, he noticed your empty desk chair and your computer which cast a soft glow on you, lying face first on your bed. You turned your head to look at him.
"Making really great progress on that paper I see." He smirked at you, that stupid smirk you love to hate and hate to love. 
"I'm tired." That was all you could manage to say to him. After his stunt at the dinner table and his general behavior in the past month, you honestly wanted nothing more than for him to just go away.
“What's wrong pretty girl?” Kylo’s voice was soft and sweet like honey. You felt the bed dip beside you and two strong arms wrap around you. “Are you mad at me for dinner? I-” 
You sat straight up to look at him, causing him to stand up from your bed. “Yes! Yes, I’m mad at you for dinner.” You shouted at him, as much as a whisper would allow you to. “You don't even have the decency to come through the front door most times, and when you do, you act like I don't exist. I don't understand you, if I had known I'd just be a fuck buddy to you I wouldn't have given you my virginity in the first place.”
For a few moments, Kylo stared at you. He looked surprised but there was a softness and concern in his eyes. “That isn't all you are to me, I promise… I just... feel like I'm not good enough for you sometimes.” 
You sighed, collapsing back into your pillows. Your capacity to care or argue with him was spent. “I wish you had figured that out before you invited me out onto the roof to smoke with you.” 
The room was quiet for a few moments before you heard the sound of your window opening and closing. He left your house wordlessly, with nothing but dead silence left in his wake. 
You felt hot tears sting at the corners of your eyes, regretting nothing more than ever allowing Kylo to get close to you. 
Asshole.
You hadn't realized you’d fallen asleep until you were woken up to the sound of your phone ringing. Lifting your head from your tear-soaked pillow, you tried to adjust your eyes to the brightness of your phone to see who was calling you so late.
Kylo.
You nearly groaned, debating whether or not it was a better idea to just ignore him. You ultimately decided against your better judgment.
“What do you want?” You spoke sleepily into the phone.
“Just come down here for a moment.”
You got up and looked out your window. Kylo stood in front of your house, leaning against his car with his phone pressed against his face. “No.” You were about to hang up on him before you heard his voice again.
“You can hate me, that's fine. I just want to show you one thing.” There was a quick desperation to his voice. “Please.”
“Fine.” You sighed, hanging up the phone before slipping your shoes on quickly and opening your window. Once on your roof, you had wished you’d grabbed a jacket. The cold, midnight air nipped at your exposed arms, causing you to shiver. 
You climbed down your mother's trellis, taking extra care not to crush any of the vines that would bloom beautifully in the spring. 
You felt the frozen dew from the grass brush across your ankles as you made your way to Kylo’s car and watched as he opened the passenger side door for you. The warmth of the car interior enveloped you as you sat down, and once fully inside, he shut your door before practically running around his car to his side. 
He pulled away from your house with a roar from his engine, and you hoped your parents didn't hear it. 
“Where are we going?” You asked unamused. 
“Somewhere I like to go when I want to be alone... I think you’ll like it.” Kylo said softly, glancing at you once before focusing on the road again. 
You sighed, watching as he pulled onto a backroad. The canopy of trees shaded the car from the moonlight, only the glow of the radio dimly illuminating the interior. 
“You really shouldn't have, you know… Taking me somewhere nice like the forest before murdering me.” You said sarcastically.
Kylo laughed. “Where else would I dispose of the body? Suburbs are much too populated.” He joked, reaching for his cigarettes before offering one to you. 
You tried to hide the smirk that played on your lips, hating how easily he could make you laugh. You accepted the cigarette, watching as the trees cleared to reveal a moonlit lake. 
Kylo put the charger in park, before turning in his seat to face you. “I’m sorry I've treated you the way I have this past month.” He reached up to light your cigarette for you, not breaking eye contact. He ignited his own, taking a few puffs before continuing. “I've always been so scared of not being good enough for you or living up to your family's standards… and now I've allowed my fears to hurt you. But I can assure you you're way more than just a quick fuck to me, I can't apologize enough for making you feel that way.” 
You watched as Kylo reached into his back seat for something, retrieving a stack of small notes and colored paper. He smiled nervously before handing them to you. 
As you flipped through them in silence, you tried to make sense of what you were looking at. In the stack were dozens of notes and cards all in his handwriting, some more recent and some that seemed to have been written by a much younger Kylo. You looked up at him, no longer able to hide the smile on your face. 
“I would write them and always get way too nervous to give them to you… but I kept them anyway.” Kylo said nervously, speaking quickly. “I've liked you since we were children, Poe always-”
You cut him off with a kiss, his warm lips immediately melting into yours as he kissed back with need and desire. Kylo extinguished his cigarette in his car's ashtray before traveling his hands up to hold your face.
After a few minutes, he pulled away, allowing you both to catch your breath. Still cradling your face in his hands, Kylo looked at you with a gaze so soft, that you thought you'd melt into a puddle on the floor of his Charger. 
He spoke softly. “Be my girlfriend. Say you'll be mine and my fears will be far behind me, I promise.” 
You beamed at him, nodding quickly. “I'm yours.”
Kylo’s lips connected with yours once again and he kissed you feverishly. He reached down to fiddle with something before his seat extended back with a dull thump. Without ever breaking the kiss, Kylo pulled you with him to the backseat, laying you down so he was hovering above you. 
You quickly fumbled with his belt, trying to blindly undo the clasp. He brushed your hands away, kissing his way down your now trembling body and stopping just above the waistband of your pants. Hooking his fingers into them, he quickly and expertly removed both your pants and underwear in one go, exposing your bare cunt to the cool air of his car. You watched as he threw your clothes somewhere into the dark void that was the front seat. 
You whined, pushing your thighs together for warmth and friction, which Kylo promptly used his strong hands to open again. “Not so fast, my little star. I wanna take my time with you tonight.” He smirked up at you. 
Half-kneeling on the floorboard of the car, Kylo peppered kisses up and down your inner thigh, causing you to shiver in his grasp. After what felt like eons of teasing, he finally placed a kiss just below your pubic bone before licking a stripe up your slit. 
You moaned, tangling your fingers into his long, dark locks as he began to feast on you. Your body felt full of electricity as if you were going to spark and short circuit at any moment. 
He was unrelenting with his tongue, and you felt yourself nearing your climax. “Kylo!” You whined desperately. 
“Hm? What is it, pretty girl?” He mumbled against you, not faltering once in his attack on your now very sensitive clit. 
“You’re g-gonna make me cum already, stop.” You breathed out. 
You could feel him smirk against your heat. “That's fine. Go ahead, cum for me.” He hummed.
Your head felt light and your body electric as you came, your vision blurring as you rode your high on his tongue. You only noticed he had stopped when you came to and saw him wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his dark hair messy and pupils blown with lust. 
“You taste so fucking good.” He breathed as he undid his belt, “I can't believe I waited a month to do that.” 
Laughing weakly, your head still fuzzy from your high, you admired him as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing his pale chest littered with beauty marks. He looked so angelic the way the moon behind him cast his frame in an almost halo-like glow. You watched as he freed his erect cock from the tight confines of his jeans. 
Kylo kissed you as he lined himself up with your entrance, pausing momentarily to hold the side of your face in his hand and smile at you with adoration. “I wish you could see how pretty you look right now… How pretty you always look.”
You whined, still unable to form a coherent sentence and wrapping your arms around his broad frame. You felt him push his cock inside you slowly, and he watched as your eyes rolled back into your skull in pleasure. 
You moaned into the crook of his neck as he began to move, thrusting into you gently. His hand traveled up your shirt to cup your breast while he used the other to keep the back of your head from hitting the door handle. 
Kylo’s pace quickened, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you with every thrust. “You’re gonna m-make me cum again, you f-feel too good.” You breathed.
“I’m not gonna stop you, baby. Cum on my cock as many times as you need.” He smiled down at you, slightly out of breath as he neared his own climax. 
You came undone beneath him for the second time that night, loudly moaning his name and whatever expletives your brain thought of first, not having to worry about the possibility of waking your entire family as you both bathed in the moonlight that slipped through the now foggy windows of Kylo’s Charger. 
“Hm- Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Kylo moaned into your ear. 
“Please cum in m-me. I love you.” You whined. Your mind was so foggy from cumming twice that you had lost your inhibition completely and it took you a moment to realize what you just said to him.
You didn’t have much time, however, to worry about it for too long as Kylo let out a moan you had never heard from him before, a sound of need and desperation. “Fuck- Fuck! I love you too.”  He came to a halt deep inside you, before filling you with his cum. 
He breathed heavily on top of you, staring down at you with shock and adoration. “I love you too.” He repeated, completely out of breath. When he pulled out, you felt his cum drip down your thigh as he quickly retrieved his shirt from the darkness of the floorboard to clean you up. 
Kylo peppered kisses up and down your body before pulling you into his lap to hold you in his arms, and you watched as he lazily drew a heart in the condensation that had collected on the window. You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, thinking only of how comfortable you felt in his presence. 
You didn’t get home until 4 am and slept through most of the morning. You awoke to your father yelling at you from downstairs saying something about how there was somebody there to see you. Confused and still tired, you wiped the sleep out of your eyes as you made your way to the stairs. 
You stopped in your tracks at the top of the steps. Kylo standing in your foyer waiting for you was the last thing you expected. He had cleaned up nicely, trading his usual rotation of black band tees for a nice, dark button-up, and in his hands he held a bouquet of pink lilies. He smiled nervously up at you.
“Hi?” You beamed at him, laughing slightly.
“Hi,” Kylo smirked, looking down the hall towards the kitchen, where your dad had disappeared to, before continuing in a lower tone only you could hear. “I thought I’d try the front door this time.”
189 notes · View notes
cosmictheo · 2 years ago
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𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫
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— summary: joel helps you through a emotional breakdown after henry and sam's death. — pairing: joel miller x female!reader — word count: 2k — warnings: angst, death mentions, suicide mentions, mental breakdown, crying fit, some backstory from reader's past, joel being the most comforting best boyfriend ever, ellie being the angel she is. just a little comfort for those who need it because it is deserved<3
joel’s playlist i made for inspo
writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
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“Henry, take it easy, look at me.”
Joel's voice barely managed to be heard over the constant ringing that had risen in your ears, mixed with the rumbling of your heart thundering in your ears.
“'Gimme the gun, Henry.”
“W—what did I do?” Henry's voice trembled and you closed your eyes tightly just after he took the gun to his head.
“Henry—”
All you heard next was the gunshot and the faint whimper of Ellie, whom you had pulled to your chest, shielding her with your body in case Henry wanted to have shot you in your direction, blinded by anger and grief.
Then you heard footsteps approaching rapidly. Joel. “Ellie. Are you okay?”
He comforted Ellie, speaking to her in a rather soft tone, resting his hands on her shoulders and stepping in front of her so that it wasn't possible for her to see Henry's body bleeding on the ground, though the damage had already been done, for she had seen firsthand how he had shot himself. The girl just nodded her head weakly and Joel then helped her to her feet, guiding her out of the room with slow steps, as she was still in shock.
And then he came back to you, naturally.
He called your name in a soft tone, crouching down in front of you, his hands sought your cheeks, cradling them and guiding your head in his direction, noticing how your eyes had dragged from Henry's body to his little brother in front of him, a few steps away. Your heart stopped for a few moments, noticing the orange paint still around his eyes, but then all you saw was Joel's anxious look as he turned your chin toward him very gently.
“Oh, baby girl—” Soft, frightened honey eyes searched yours, “Look at me, baby. I'm here, I've got you.”
You let out a sob against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to him, blocking your view of the two bodies in the room.
“I'm so— so tired of this.” You blubbered out, quivering through sobs.
Joel clenched his jaw, blinking a couple of times so as to keep tears from coming from his eyes as he heard your broken sobs. And of course it was a difficult situation, you never thought it would end like this for Henry and Sam, you were supposed to help them.
But he knew exactly why it affected you so much. During the outbreak you had lost your sister, you had told him about her and how she had been taken from you by the infection, not a couple of hours had passed and she had already been bitten. You had to shoot her yourself, because who else would do it? You never forgave yourself for her death and you never would, he knew that.
And watching all this happen in front of your eyes of course had been like re-experiencing the most traumatic and terrifying day of your entire life.
“I know, baby. I know.” He whispered reassuringly against the side of your head, stroking your hair with one hand and with the other, tracing non-existent lines and shapes on your lower back. He placed a kiss on your the line of your forehead before speaking again, “Can you walk for me? We have to get out of here, okay?”
But you didn't respond, you simply broke in his arms and Joel felt his chest tighten at the sight of you in that vulnerable state. Rarely had he seen you like this, rarely had he seen you cry, much less in such a grief-stricken way.
So he simply held you, hugging you tightly, as if you were somehow going to disappear at any moment. He gave you a couple of minutes to unwind and then sighed shakily, fingers combing your hair.
“I'm gonna' to take you in my arms, okay?” he murmured against your ear, taking your arms to wrap around his neck, “hold on tight and just look at me, baby. Just me.” Your gaze crawled up to his face, finally meeting his, bright with concern and softness for you, his rough fingers caressed your cheekbone, “There you are, you just keep those pretty eyes on me, okay?”
“O–okay.” You replied in your broken voice, nodding weakly.
“That's my girl.” He complimented you tenderly, leaning in a little so he could lay an affectionate kiss on your forehead, trying to reassure you in every way he could. “You're doing so good.”
Your arms went around his shoulders and you hid your face against his neck as he lifted you into his arms, heading for the room door, where outside Ellie was still waiting for you, in complete silence.
She turned to you when she heard Joel leave the room and her face transformed to one of concern when she saw your condition. You had never shown yourself to be so emotional in front of her, not as much as Joel of course, at least you joked with her sometimes, were constantly concerned for her well being and even held her hand when you were in very dangerous situations. Ellie looked up to you and seeing you fall apart like that showed her that you were human and you were so strong.
She followed Joel silently as he exited the building with you in his arms, glancing at you from time to time with concern, although your sobs were over once you were outside.
Ellie gave you two a moment alone, giving you space as she stood a few feet away from you, sitting on a small concrete pillar.
Joel set you down on the ground, but his arms never left you, his hands running up your shoulders, caressing you affectionately, until they reached your face, his thumbs drying your wet cheeks. He made a pitiful little grimace as he met your bloodshot eyes, holding back a dark, lost gaze.
He wasn't used to seeing you so dull and detached from reality, but he did what he did best to bring you back to him. Talk to you through it. He new very well the effect his voice had on you, several times you had mentioned to him that you loved his voice because it managed to calmed you down even during difficult moments.
“I got you, baby.” Joel stated daintily, holding your gaze, soft voice bringing you back. “I'm here, I'm here for you, you're okay, you're safe with me.”
He approached you and kissed the tip of your nose affectionately, brushing away a lock of hair that had fallen across your forehead, blocking his view of your beautiful eyes. “I won't let anything happen to you. I promise.”
At his words, you felt the sudden urge to hug him, so you did, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling him to you, making him break into a weak little smile, wrapping you in his arms again. As you laid your head against his chest, you closed your eyes, focusing on the beating of his heart against your ear, the expansion of his chest with each inhale of oxygen from his lungs, the way his fingers caressed your back, the smell of his scent, gunpowder, coffee and wet soil; Joel. Your Joel.
You sniffed once you lifted your head, resting your chin against his chest, “Ellie? She's—”
Joel smiled sweetly at your question, relieved to know that you were drifting back to him slowly, snapping back to reality. And of course the first thing you would do was ask about Ellie, his hands stroking your hair now, looking down at you in his arms, “She's fine, she's here.”
“I'm sorry.” You mumbled between sniffles and Joel watched with his brow furrowing in pity as shame passed over your beautiful face, eyes sorrowful. “I shouldn't have—”
And for that, he immediately interrupted you, making it impossible for you to continue with your unnecessary apology, well knowing it was coming, as you tended to feel the need to apologize whenever you were too emotional in front of him.
“Hey, there's nothin' you need to apologize for, pretty girl, most certainly not to me. It's a completely natural and normal reaction.” His gaze became sorrowful, thinking fleetingly of all you had suffered over the years and how he had not been there to protect you. But now he was. And he wasn't going anywhere. “You've been through a lot, but you're still here, with me, that means you're strong, darlin'. The strongest person I know.” His fingers trailed down your hair, again cradling your face within the familiar warmth they always offered. His cheeks expanded as a sympathetic, sweet smile tugged at his lips. “You know I got you. Always.”
You nodded your head, pushing aside every reason your head was giving you to apologize for feeling this way and focusing on his eyes, your hands made a path up his arms until they rested over his hands, fingers soothingly caressing his upon your cheeks. “I know. Thank you, honey.”
“That's what I'm here for.” He replied before leaning over to you and leaving a kiss on your forehead so soft and loving that it made you close your eyes, holding back the urge to cry again. “I'm going to bring them here, bury them. They deserve it.”
You nodded your head once again, “They do.”
Joel broke away from you and not before giving your hand a squeeze he half turned back to Ellie, throwing her a gentle look, twisting his head in your direction. “Stay close to her.”
Ellie didn't need him to tell her that for her to immediately cling to you, offering you a weak smile as you took her hand between yours. She gave it a small squeeze, silently letting you know she was there for you, which you thanked her for by returning the gesture.
And you both watched with your hands joined as Joel buried Henry and Sam. And by the time Joel finished, Ellie unlaced her hand from yours, walking towards the graves, taking in her other hand the small slate that belonged to Sam.
Joel took his position back at your side, analyzing your gaze as you watched Ellie lay the little slate on Sam's grave, both of you giving her own time to mourn and to say goodbye to the one who, so far, had been the closest thing to a friend she'd had in years, maybe. It broke your heart at the mere thought of how much she had had to go through in her short life. She was so strong.
Ellie stood up a few minutes later, looking at Joel. Her face was stern and she looked more determined than ever. She was just tired of losing people too, you guessed. “Which way's west?”
Joel simply answered her by motioning with his head in the direction and she without another word, started walking to the street.
Your eyes filled with tears as you saw what she had written to him on the board. 'I'm sorry.'
Joel's warm hand on your lower back brought you back to reality, drawing your attention back to him, looking at you affectionately. “You ready?”
You nodded your head and looked at him as he put his backpack back on, hanging up his jacket before taking your hand between his and walking back down your path, leaving once again, a couple more bodies behind you, weighing more on your shoulders.
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reidbae · 2 years ago
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Good For You
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summary: On the way to a crime scene, you and Spencer get onto the topic of dominant women. Just when you think the resident genius will say he doesn't like them, he proves you wrong.
pairing: sub!spencer reid x dom!fem!reader
warnings/mentions: afab!reader, unprotected piv sex (don't do this plz), palming, choking, hair pulling, vaginal sex, degradation (m receiving), praise (m receiving), use of y/n before and after smut but use of miss and ma'am during, roughish sex but not rlly (i think)
a/n: thank you so much for 100+ followers and for all of the love on my first fic, it means the world :,) i'm goin' thru a little writer's block but i had to get this out for sub spence <3
wc: 2.3k
"People don't like dominant women," you joked, laughing. You were hardly sure how you and Spencer had even come to this topic, but, to be fair, it was a long car ride to the crime scene you were on your way to, and you were finding ways to pass the time.
You were talking about how you presented yourself as a dominant person, given your role in the FBI. It was easiest and comfortable, and it was a personality trait that you'd maintained for years, no matter what the circumstances were.
"What makes you say that?" asked Spencer, a tone of genuine curiosity coated over his voice.
"Well, you know, most men are looking to be in authority. They don't like women controlling them," you shrugged as you continued to drive.
"You're not entirely incorrect," Spencer agreed. "But, I'm not most men," he mumbled so quietly that you nearly missed it. You briefly looked over at him before turning your eyes back to the road.
You raised your eyebrows, taken aback by Spencer's comment. "Is that so?" you then asked with a playful smirk. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Spencer go red, causing you to push him further. "So, you like women like me?"
"Yeah, I mean, I guess I do," Spencer timidly answered. "I- I can't really explain why, exactly, but, yeah," he barely managed to stammer out. "And, I mean, you're dominant, which makes you mildly intimidating, but, honestly, it makes you more attractive."
Now that was not something you were expecting to hear from Spencer Reid, of all the people. But, you weren't opposed to it. Not one bit.
"Damn, Spencer. I assumed you had a thing for me, but I didn't think it was because I'm dominant," you teased him, your coy smirk never leaving your face.
The scarlet color across his face darkened as he returned, "W- Well, I'm an honest man," with an embarrassed chuckle. "And, I mean- Yeah, I guess I do have something for you. I know that probably sounds weird, coupled with everything else I just said."
"No, no, it doesn't. Besides, I like my men submissive," you giggled.
"I guess we're on the same page, then," Spencer laughed with you. "That's good."
"It's great, actually." you returned. "So, then. This thing, huh? Do you actually like me?" you asked curiously, your eyes fixated on the road.
Spencer chuckled at your question. "Come on, Y/N. After all that I've just said, do I really need to confirm that I like you?" asked Spencer in a sassy tone. "I think you know the answer to that."
"Watch the attitude, Spencer," you responded, partially joking, and partially serious. Spencer shyly nodded.
"I'm sorry, miss," Spencer practically scoffed. As you pulled up to a stop sign, you looked over at Spencer, narrowing your eyes.
"Miss, huh?" you teased.
"Miss. Unless you prefer your name, Y/N," Spencer teased directly back at you, mirroring your energy.
You could see Spencer's small smirk as your name rolled off his tongue, heavenly so.
You paused for a second, shook your head, then began to drive again. You could feel your own face heat up as you began to drive down the street. "You don't know what you saying my name like that does to me," you admitted in a low voice.
"Yeah?" he asked, his tone dripping in flirtatiousness.
You bit your bottom lip for a second before Spencer continued. "What does it do to you?" he asked you, breathing your name back out to you again. "Tell me."
"Not while I'm driving," you returned as you cleared your throat. "You've been enough of a distraction."
Spencer chuckled. "How close are we, anyway?"
"We're here, actually," you answered. You pulled into the driveway of the house where the crime scene was at, parking the car into place. The driveway was secluded, covered entirely by trees and bushes.
"Oh," Spencer said quietly. It was clear that he was apprehensive to leave, but he knew as well you did that you had a job to do. "Guess we should, uh, start looking at the crime scene, then," he said, his hand reaching for the door handle. You cocked an eyebrow.
"Are you really just going to leave that conversation off there?" you asked with a mischievous grin.
Spencer looked at you, evidently intrigued as he shook his head and grinned back at you.
"Not if you want to keep talking," Spencer smirked. "You, uh, kind of left me on a cliffhanger back there, actually."
"Like hell I did," you laughed. "You were about to leave and abandon this conversation, were you not?"
Spencer shrugged, removing his hand from the door handle and looking directly into your eyes, his honeyed brown ones meeting yours. "I can't argue with that," he chuckled. "So, then, what do you want to talk about?"
"Less talking and more of something else, to be honest," you couldn't help but say as you looked at him.
You could see Spencer's breath catch in his throat for a second as you finished your sentence, gazing at you as if he had forgotten how to physically breathe.
"Oh?" he asked quietly, but his tone displayed remnants of excitement. "What did you, uh, have in mind?" he asked you.
But you knew he already knew the answer to that.
You pulled Spencer in by his tie, gently so, before uttering, "This," your voice significantly raspier than it had been before.
Spencer's face reddened as you pulled him closer to you, his breath coming out quickly and heavily as he stared down at your lips. He leaned in, pressing his lips onto yours, and you instantly reciprocated, kissing him slowly. When he pulled away, he was completely and utterly breathless.
"You're really not making this easy for me," Spencer breathed out to you. You could feel his hand sneaking gently up to cup your face as he did.
"What am I not making easy, sweetheart?" you cooed. He smoothed his thumb over your cheek.
"Resisting you. I can't stop, miss. I can't stop wanting you," he admitted to you through several more kisses, kissing you more boldly as the seconds went by.
"Then don't," you encouraged him. You leaned in to kiss him again, this time more passionately. You gladly allowed your tongue to explore Spencer's mouth, relishing in the immense amount of pleasure that you were already experiencing from minimal contact.
Your hands found Spender's throat and squeezed down as you continued to fervently kiss him. He groaned into your kiss as he began to run his hands down your body, settling on your waist.
Your shaky hands began to fumble with his tie again as you pulled back for a second, your forehead pressed onto his. "Fuck," you moaned out, removing his tie.
You pressed your lips onto Spencer's again. You could feel him smile against your lips, no doubt at the quick pace you were going at. When he pulled away, his face was flushed.
"You know, we're still in your car," Spencer breathed out.
"There's no one here," you muttered. "We'll be fine," you assured him.
"You're the boss," he openly told you in a submissive tone. "If you want me here, then I'm all yours, miss."
You smirked at that, an idea immediately formulating in your mind. "Sit back, Spencer," you ordered in a domineering tone. He looked at you with a startled expression for a second before doing what he was told, sitting back, his back pressed onto the passenger seat.
You removed your seatbelt, then swiftly moved into the passenger side and onto Spencer's lap. You straddled him naturally, causing Spencer's face to darken even further, if that was even possible.
Spencer's hands gripped your waist as yours tangled into his hair. He smoothed his thumbs over your waist slowly, gazing up at you with a flustered expression. "You're beautiful."
You smirked and leaned down to kiss him again, your passion just as prominent as before. You began to grind slowly onto Spencer's crotch, causing both of you to moan, yours of pleasure, his of surprise.
You continued that way for a few seconds, and Spencer was everything but opposed. But you needed more.
You pulled away again, your forehead pressed onto Spencer's as you fumbled with his belt, working quickly to remove it. It came unbuckled with ease, and next, you undid his zipper.
Now having access to the boxers under his pants, you touched Spencer, softly at first, then quickening your pace to obtain a reaction. Your movements elicited a low groan from him as you palmed him.
"Hard for me already, Spencer?" you teased him as you slowed your movements.
He breathlessly nodded, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth as he looked up at you. "Yes, ma'am."
"Help me get these off, sweetheart," you softly murmured, in reference to the work slacks you were still wearing.
"Here, I got it," Spencer muttered quickly, allowing his hands to move in a similar rushed manner as his fingers began the task of undressing you. When your pants were unbuttoned, he pulled them down, allowing himself more access.
Your face was drenched in desire as your hand moved back into Spencer's hair, tugging gently and yanking him closer to you. "Do you want this?"
"Yes," he moaned back. "God, yes. Please."
"Please, what? I want to hear you say it," you whispered.
"I want you to fuck me, miss," he had no trouble admitting, his thumbs still circling your waist as his face flushed further. You smirked, chuckling.
"Slut," you spat, returning your hands down to his boxers. Spencer let out a small whimper at your use of degradation, but the moment ended as soon as it begun as you removed his already red cock from his boxers. You pumped your hand up and down his cock a few times before shrugging your panties down.
You lowered yourself down onto Spencer, shuddering at the new sensation of his cock inside of your cunt. Submissive or not, he was huge.
You immediately leaned into the crook of Spencer's neck, grabbing the back of his head with force.
"Fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good," you moaned out.
Spencer's hands found the small of your back, caressing it gently as you began to slowly ride him.
"You do, too, miss."
You began to move faster as shaking hands tugged Spencer's brunette locks. You were moaning into his ear as he groaned whorishly into yours, his hands moving down to grip your ass as you rode him.
"Thought about this a lot, huh?" you teased him, chuckling. He fervently nodded, then leaned in and kissed your neck, sucking gently.
"Y- Yes," he admitted between kisses, continuing to use his mouth on your neck, no doubt leaving marks there as his movements became rougher.
"Keep doing that," you groaned.
"Anything to please you, ma'am," he gladly complied, as if he had any intention of stopping in the first place.
"That's it. Bein' suck a, fuck- Doll for me, Spencer," you praised him. "Such a good boy," you continued, yanking his hair and pulling him closer. Spencer shuddered, groaning as you did so. He was breathing much faster now. You could see him growing warmer as the seconds went by.
"God, I can't," Spencer breathed out.
"You can't what, pretty boy?" you asked him breathlessly.
"I just- Jesus," he tried, but coherent sentences were clearly beginning to fail him. "I'm- You're-" he desperately stammered.
"Come on, baby, use your words for me," you encouraged him.
"You're just- So, so incredible, miss," Spencer panted out, leaning back in his seat. Your hand moved back to his throat as he did, and you looked wordlessly down at him.
You squeezed down with force, your climax evidently approaching, as was his. Tentatively, but purposefully, Spencer reached a hand down and began to touch your clit, rubbing it in quick circles in an attempt to help you along.
You moved with him, grinding down further onto his hand as he touched you. "That's it. That's fucking it," you whispered as you laid your head onto Spencer's shoulder. "Makin' me feel so good, love."
"Anything you need, miss. I'm all yours," Spencer told you as he continued his motions. His long fingers worked quickly with your clit, driving you significantly closer towards your high. Fuck, did he know what he was doing.
"Damn fucking straight," you groaned into his ear.
You used your free hand to grip his shoulder as you threw your head back in pleasure. Spencer's eyes bored into you, clearly admiring the view.
"You're mine, Spencer. My fucking whore, you hear me?" you spat. How could he do anything but nod?
"Fuck, miss, I'm close," Spencer groaned out, one hand gripping your waist and the other continuing to touch you. You smirked down at him.
"Yeah?" you breathed out. "Let it out, then, baby."
Spencer mewled out an almost pornographic moan as he filled your cunt to the brim with his cum. You followed suit quickly after, resting your head on his shoulder as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
You looked down at him when you were finished, biting your lip and panting heavily. You chuckled. "I can't believe I just fucked you in my own car," you joked.
Spencer smiled up at you, leaning up and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. "I loved every second, Y/N."
"You better have. You did so good, doll. So, so good," you praised him, toying mindlessly with Spencer's hair. Spencer only blushed further at your continued praise.
He moved his hands to your waist, planting another gentle kiss onto your lips. "Anything, to be good for you."
both requests and reblogs are appreciated :)
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awakeskydoesntdraw · 8 months ago
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Posting in this blog after an eternity because I feel like I'm going insane here and my friends are asleep so I need to dump my brainstorm SOMEWHERE (SPOILERS FOR ARLECCHINO'S BACKSTORY/SHORT ANIMATION!!)
The TLDR is basically I think that the whole story with Arlecchino and Clervie is foreshadowing for Lyney and Lynette's future
I think the parallels between Lyney and Arle don't need to be too explained for the most part. Pyro Visions, Arle wants him to be the next "king" while he doesn't seem to be too into that idea just like her younger self didn't want it, both are associated with Rainbow Roses (they both use them as ascension materials)
Plus, I'd argue they look kinda similar here. I'm not sure exactly what is that makes the resemblance, maybe a bit of the hair, bowtie and shorts and you could say it's something she has with the others too (her kid design resembles Freminet, current one Lynette) but I thought it was good to mention anyways
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Meanwhile, Lynette and Clervie are the two closest companions to their respective pair
Lynette's has Lumidouce Bells as an ascension material. Clervie is very clearly represented with the same flower (if her necklace wasn't enough, there's this)
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Plus, a bit of a smaller connection, but they both have clear sweet tooths
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(Lyney saying "we talked about this" implies this is a frequent event. The animation showing Clervie with cake twice while it only had 7 minutes to tell the whole story has a similar effect)
So, if Lyney is a parallel to Arle while Lynette is a parallel to Clervie, where does this leave us?
Well... Not exactly in a good spot-
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To be fair, I don't think Genshin would actually kill a playable character (or at least, so I hope), but it's very possible Lynette gets really hurt, either directly by Lyney or by being close to him
Arlecchino swore to be nothing like her mother, but in the end, the way she's acting towards Lyney by wanting to make him the next king may be very similar to it
Once upon a story quest, Lyney said similar words to a woman who claimed he'd end up all alone. I can only pray that the writers will have mercy at my soul and that they wouldn't go that low with a playable character
If I were to make a mildly self indulgent guess, as the Freminet main I am, I'd say that he may be the key that's going to make things turn out different for the twins. His presence is the biggest difference between the twins vs Arle and Clervie, who seemed to have no one else that was even mildly close to them. From the 4.6 trailer we know that he's the one that has been hiding stuff and we do see him blocking out Arle's attack, so I don't think it's a stretch to say he'll have a really important role in this whole thing
So yeah! If you read all my rambling, thanks I guess, hope you enjoyed it. In the end, all I can hope is that the Fontaine siblings all turn out fine for the sake of my own mental wellness because God knows these 3 stay all day spinning in my head as if it was a microwave
Also, for the record: No, I don't have a clue about what the hell is going on with Freminet apparently finding "Clervie" (ghost?? Illusion??) and hiding her from Arle. Until this short my best shot was that she was some sort of mermaid creature, but that idea is out the window so it could be anything really
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lupinmoonlight · 11 months ago
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First Morning Together
Masterlist AO3
Summary - An interlude to Domestic Bliss. After graduating from Hogwarts, you and Remus move into a cozy little cottage in Hogsmeade. Your first morning together results in steamy spoon fucking (879 words).
Warnings - age gap, spooning, smut, impregnation kink if you squint, my grammar, not proof-read.
Notes - I don't know what this is and I kinda hate it. I was longing for something domestic but also smut without plot so there it is. I know I have several requests in my inbox but I have had some serious writer's block. I will get to them as soon as I can! I am also planning out a multi-chapters fic with possibly my first ever OC. Let me know if that is something of interest :)
You still had to remind Remus that you were not his student anymore, that it was ok to touch you, to hold your hand, to have you. You were his now, after all. You had been his for a long time already, only now you didn't have to hide it from the world. 
Yet, he was still so careful around you. There was still this lingering guilt behind every touch, as if he was afraid to corrupt you. The truth was that you were corrupted ever since you laid your eyes on him for the first time 3 years ago. And that corruption had led you to this cozy little cottage nestled on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, sleeping next to the love of your life for the first time. 
That love of your life had been awake for a while already, savouring the intimacy of the moment, of having you all curled up against him, fitting so perfectly into the curve of his waist as if you were made for him alone. 
Your favourite thing was to feign innocence with him, to pretend you were not aware of the effect you had on him. But you knew exactly what you were doing and now, in your first morning together, you could feel the unmistakable hardness pressing against your backside as he was spooning you yet you pretended to be asleep, subtly grinding your butt against him. 
He groaned and tried to put some distance between the two of you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but your body instinctively sought out the contact, pressing yourself back against him.
"Y/N...I'm sorry. I should-" he started stuttering. 
"Don't apologize, Professor," you said, turning your head slightly to give him a mischievous smile. 
His body betrayed him at the sound of his title on your lips, his length twitching with arousal against you. One of his hands found its way down to your hip, pulling you more firmly against him, causing you to gasp. You were not used to this type of assertiveness with him; he was always so careful, so gentle. But now, in the intimate confines of your shared cottage, his resolve was crumbling and he was hungry, starved. 
In a swift motion, he slid your panties down just enough so that the cool air of the morning kissed over you bare bottom, making you shiver. His erection was painfully hard now. He freed himself from his boxers and slid between your cheeks as his lips found your shoulder, his breath ghosting over your skin. 
"Fuck..." he let out as he started grinding himself against you in a torturous pace. 
"Remus...Please," you whimpered, arching your back in a desperate plea for him to be inside you. 
You could feel his lips form into a smirk against your skin; he loved having you all needy and begging. Except now there was no time for teasing. He wanted you, needed you. He aligned his length with your entrance and slowly, oh so slowly, he pushed inside of you, his arms keeping you firmly against him. 
The tightness of your body threatened to undo him right then and there and he stilled for a moment in a futile attempt to control himself. 
"God...you feel good," he whispered as he found his rhythm, thrusting slowly but steadily into your welcoming heat. Your soft moans and whimpers did nothing to help him stay in control, his breathing becoming ragged. 
He increased the force of his pace as his hand travelled down to your core, the tip of his finger teasing over your sensitive bud. You arched your back, pushing your hips forward in a silent plea for more contact and you moaned and he gave into what you wanted, that sweet friction bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 
It only took a few strokes for your climax to hit you, your entire body tensing up as you gave in to the pleasure. Remus growled as he felt you clench around him, and any ounce of restraint he had was gone. He gripped your waist, anchoring himself to you as his hips drove into you relentlessly. 
"I'm close," he panted. 
"Please...fill me up. I want to feel you inside me," you begged. 
His thrusts became unsteady as he approached his climax, his grip on you almost painful. "Ah...fuck. You're going to make me come," he practically growled.
With one final powerful thrust, he felt the familiar explosion of pleasure erupting from him as he came inside your tight hold. His hips continued to grind against you as he pumped you with his seed before finally coming to a still. 
You could feel his chest heaving against your back, his length still pulsing as he was nestled deep within you. His hand came to rest on your belly as he imagined vividly how beautiful you would look with his child growing inside you. 
He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder and whispered "I love you" against your skin, pulling you closer to him, your bodies still intimately connected. 
"This is how I want every morning to be from now on," you said with a hint of a smile in your voice. 
"You know I can never refuse anything to the love of my life." 
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crisiscutie · 4 months ago
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Yooo been ages, miss you boo! 👀 that you're asking for requests to help with writers blocks. Lets see...
How about if Vincent actually fell for that adorable intern who worked with lucrecia instead? Considering lucrecia revived him out of guilt when he confronted hojo, maybe he as chaos instinctively looked for the darling afterward?
Make it as yandere slash monstrous however much you like it! Or tame. Or drama filled if lucrecia gets jealous, hojo meddling with Vincent's crush, or whatever.
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Hey there bae! Thank you so much for this interesting request! Let's just say there are some pretty interesting implications if you spy some hints 👀...
Content Warning: Nothing really beside drama and angst. Pregnant Darling.
Pairing: 🕵️Turk Vincent Valentine/Intern Darling👩‍🔬
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Vincent's hand gently glided down your aching body, providing support as he stood you up. Yes, you expected your first pregnancy to be difficult, but that doesn't mean you couldn't complain. The frequent morning sickness, swollen feet, and a back that felt like it was full of tiny painful knots made almost every moment hell for you. That's ignoring the strange, lucid dreams you had since it started. Were those dreams a normal part of pregnancy, or were they a result of the "treatments" you've been involved in? There was no way for you to know, as you had never experienced pregnancy before and had no one trustworthy to guide you. And it would stay like that until you're out of Nibelheim with Vincent tonight.
Although he wanted to give you time to rest and relax, he knew it wasn't feasible. This plan had been in the works for a while, but the worsening of your condition forced both you two to act now. Neither of you could let Hojo and Lucrecia continue their twisted experiments on you. Lucrecia had you doing busy work as her intern until she and Hojo offered you the opportunity to carry their child, in exchange for the better life you'd get after they're born. And like the feckless grunt you were, you took it, and it easily became the worst decision you ever made in your life.
"I'm fine, Vincent," you said and moved away from his grasp. You picked up a small bag and hastily walked down the hallway. Just as you were about to reach the entrance, he caught up to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.
"Darling. We need to talk."
"We don't have much-"
"No, you need to listen to me," you pleaded, turning around to meet his pained, red eyes. Your own eyes were on the verge of tears. "You didn't ask for this. You had no idea they were going to subject you and their child to experiments."
"That's the point! I should've fucking known! Two lunatics somehow needing a surrogate should've been suspicious from the start! And I didn't even want to do it. But I let them talk me into it. All because I wanted the money for us to settle down..."
"And we can still do that now. We'd give their child a normal life away from this. Together." he whispered. That very last word of his broke you down. You're not sure you're ready to be a parent. You're just barely getting started with adulthood, but this mess happened. A part of you knew you should've stayed a paper pusher in this shitty science department. Despite this internship from hell, there was one silver lining, Vincent himself.
Ever since you were assigned to work under Lucrecia, he has always been there for you. He was not just a shield to protect you from harm; he was your soulmate. The only bond you had within the cold, dark halls of this mansion. She wanted you to stay away from, but you couldn't care less. He was simply the best you could ever ask for.
"There might be guards outside, waiting for us..." you said.
He moved in closer, resting his forehead against yours. "We'll make it through," he assured, before giving you a deep and passionate kiss. It caught you off guard, but this reassurance was exactly what you needed. Your frown transformed into a small smile.
"I'll hold you to that," you said, squeezing his hand. He chuckled in response. Resting your other hand on your belly, you both continued to walk together. You knew there would be people waiting on the other side of that door, but you were ready to face them down with Vincent at your side.
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I had to cut a bit out but I definitely wanna continue this if y'all liked it?
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muiitoloko · 8 months ago
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Needs
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Summary: You are there to meet all of his needs.
Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Smut.
Author's Notes: Well, folks, brace yourselves for another rollercoaster ride of a story! I gotta admit, this one had me wrestling with writer's block like nobody's business. Every word felt like it was mocking me from the page! But then, lo and behold, I stumbled upon some Karl gifs on Tumblr and bam! Inspiration struck like lightning! 🌩️ Had to spill some ink on Karl, no question about it. Here's hoping I did justice to the enigma that is Karl in this one-shot! Oh, and can we talk about Charlotte? Let's just say, I'm not exactly her biggest fan... Am I alone in this? 🤔
Also read on Ao3
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As Karl stood by the window, his gaze fixed on you, the maid, playing with Otto in the garden, a myriad of conflicting emotions swirled within him. It had been two weeks since Charlotte had left with Friedrich, leaving Karl and Otto behind. Two weeks since Karl had managed to recover from his illness, but the ache of missing his wife lingered like a ghost haunting the halls of his home.
As he watched you, a simple maid with a beauty that had gone unnoticed until now, Karl couldn't help but feel a pang of longing deep within his chest. He missed the warmth of a woman, especially when he lay alone in his bed at night, the cold sheets a constant reminder of his loneliness.
Over time, Karl began to notice things about you that he hadn't paid attention to before. He saw your beauty, simple yet captivating, like someone from his own class. He observed the dedication with which you carried out your duties, the tender care you showed towards Otto, his beloved son.
And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, Karl's gaze fell upon the neckline of your dress, the delicate curve of your breasts teasingly visible beneath the fabric. His breath caught in his throat at the sight, his pulse quickening with desire as he imagined what it would be like to hold them, to suckle at them with a hunger that bordered on desperation.
Karl closed his eyes, cursing himself as he leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He missed the warmth of a woman, the softness of her skin against his, and there you were, a woman so close and yet so far away.
He wondered if you were still a virgin, if you had ever felt the heat of a man's touch. But it didn't matter, did it? Because Karl would be better than any man you had ever known, much better. He would treat you with the respect and adoration you deserved, fulfilling every desire and whim with a passion that knew no bounds.
But then, with a shake of his head, Karl opened his eyes, the realization of what he was thinking hitting him like a ton of bricks. What the hell was he doing? He was a married man, a father, and you were just a maid, beneath him in every sense of the word.
With a sense of self-disgust, Karl moved away from the window and strode purposefully towards the door, determined to put an end to these foolish thoughts once and for all. He swung the door open, interrupting your play with Otto as he ushered you both inside.
"Enough playing for now, Otto," Karl said, his voice firm as he directed his son towards the bathroom. "It's time to wash up and get ready for dinner."
Otto visibly wilted at the dismissal, his shoulders slumping as he reluctantly obeyed his father's command. You, on the other hand, bowed respectfully, apologizing for the interruption and offering to help with dinner preparations.
But Karl ignored your offer, his gaze distant as he instructed Otto to hurry along. "We will have dinner promptly at seven," he said, his tone clipped. "Make sure everything is ready by then."
You nodded obediently, bowing once again before turning to leave the room. As you passed Karl, he couldn't help but notice the way your dress clung to your curves, the sway of your hips as you walked away sending a shiver of desire down his spine.
But Karl quickly pushed aside his wayward thoughts, his sense of propriety kicking in as he returned to his office at home. Taking a tissue from his pocket, he pressed it against his mouth while coughing, the sound muffled against the fabric as he tried to quell the persistent ache in his chest.
"Damn foolish thoughts," Karl muttered to himself, his voice tinged with self-loathing as he leaned back in his chair, his mind racing with thoughts of you. "I must focus on my work, on providing for my family. That is all that matters."
But even as he tried to push you out of his mind, Karl couldn't shake the feeling of longing that lingered like a shadow in the depths of his soul. And as he sat there, alone in his office, the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears, he couldn't help but wonder what might have been if things had been different.
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As Karl sank into the warm water of the bathtub, he closed his eyes, trying to push aside the intrusive thoughts that plagued his mind. The sound of the water lapping gently against the sides of the tub provided a soothing backdrop, but even the comforting embrace of the warm water couldn't chase away the persistent ache of longing that gnawed at his chest.
You, the maid, moved quietly around the bathroom, preparing to assist Karl with his bath as you had done countless times before. But today was different. Today, Karl couldn't help but notice the way your gentle hands moved with practiced ease, the way your touch sent shivers of desire coursing through his veins.
As you approached the tub, Karl tried to suppress the rising tide of arousal that threatened to consume him. He had never given your presence a second thought before, but now, he couldn't even relax in your presence without feeling the stirrings of desire.
Desperate for some relief from his torment, Karl toyed with the idea of visiting some prostitutes, hoping that the physical release would help to banish the thoughts of you from his mind. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he couldn't bring himself to act on it, the image of your face haunting him like a specter in the darkness.
You began to wash Karl's back, your touch gentle and soothing against his skin. But as your hands moved lower, tracing the curve of his spine with feather-light touches, Karl couldn't help but tense up, the warmth of your touch sending shockwaves of desire coursing through his veins.
He tried to ignore the sensation, to focus on anything other than the way your touch made him feel. But when you passed into his arms, your body pressed tantalizingly close to his, Karl couldn't help but look at you, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment too long before he quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
You noticed his gaze and gave him a small smile, your eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Are you feeling better, Herr Hoffmeister?" you asked respectfully, your voice soft and gentle as you continued to bathe him.
Karl nodded, his voice hoarse with emotion as he admitted, "Yes, I am feeling much better, thank you. Still coughing a lot, but not as bad as before."
You smiled again, genuine happiness shining in your eyes as you said, "I'm glad to hear that, Herr Hoffmeister. You had us all worried there for a while."
The two of you fell silent once again, the only sound in the room the gentle splashing of water as you continued to bathe Karl. And as he lay there, enveloped in the warmth of the water and the comfort of your presence, Karl couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and take you in his arms, to hold you close and never let go. But he quickly pushed aside those thoughts, burying them deep within his heart as he focused on the task at hand, determined to put an end to these foolish fantasies once and for all.
As the silence stretched between you and Karl, he finally broke it with a question, his voice cutting through the quietude of the bathroom. "How long have you been serving me, uh... what was your name again?" he asked, his tone slightly hesitant as he tried to recall your name.
You smiled softly, accustomed to his occasional forgetfulness. "It's [Your Name], Herr Hoffmeister," you replied respectfully, your voice gentle as you continued to bathe him. "And I've been serving you for ten years now, since I was eighteen."
Karl's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your response. "Ten years?" he repeated, genuine curiosity shining in his gray eyes. "That's quite a long time. I must admit, I hadn't realized it had been so long."
You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you continued to wash his back. "Yes, time flies, doesn't it?" you remarked, your voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. "It feels like just yesterday that I first started working here."
Karl fell silent for a moment, lost in thought as he processed your words. Then, with a curious glint in his eyes, he asked, "Do you have a husband? Or perhaps a fiancé? Children, maybe?"
You shook your head, a faint blush coloring your cheeks at the mention of marriage and children. "No, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've never had many expectations about marriage or children. My life has always been here, serving you and taking care of Otto."
Karl's curiosity seemed to be piqued by your response, his gaze lingering on your face as he asked, "Do you have any family, then? Siblings, perhaps? Do your parents live nearby?"
You smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in your eyes as you spoke. "I don't know, Herr Hoffmeister," you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. "I was orphaned at a young age, raised by the nuns at the orphanage."
Karl's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation, his expression one of genuine sympathy as he processed the information. "You're an orphan?" he asked softly, his voice filled with compassion. "Do you... do you know who your parents are?"
You nod solemnly in response to Karl's question, the memories of your past flooding back with painful clarity. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you reply quietly, your voice tinged with sadness. "My mother was a prostitute, and my father... well, from what the nuns told me, he was a judge from England named Turpin."
Karl's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your revelation, his expression one of genuine curiosity as he processes the information. "Turpin?" he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief. "The judge from England? How did...?"
You nod, cutting him off before he can finish his question. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper. "He was traveling through Germany and ended up getting my mother pregnant. But he made it clear to her that he didn't want me, and he returned to England, leaving my mother alone to raise me."
A pang of sadness comes over you as you imagine the struggles your mother faced, the possible loneliness and hardships she must have endured. Only she could not escape the cruel hand that fate imposed on her and ended up dying in childbirth, leaving you alone and an orphan.
Karl's expression softens with sympathy as he listens to your story, his gray eyes filled with compassion. "I'm so sorry, [Your Name]," he murmurs, his voice gentle but filled with genuine regret. "That must have been incredibly difficult for you."
You offer him a small smile, though there is a hint of sadness in your eyes as you continue to speak. "It was," you admit quietly. "But I was fortunate enough to be taken in by the nuns at the orphanage, where I was raised until I turned eighteen."
His curiosity got the best of him, and he asked, "Have you ever tried to contact your father?"
You nodded quietly, a hint of sadness flickering across your features as you recalled the memories of your youth. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied softly. "When I was young, I sent a letter to him, hoping to establish some connection. But I heard nothing back. Later, I learned that he had married a peasant girl and started a family of his own."
Karl's expression darkened at the mention of your father's lack of response, a flicker of anger flashing in his gray eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "It must have been difficult for you, reaching out only to be met with silence."
You nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It was, Herr Hoffmeister," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I let it go. I lived in the orphanage until I turned eighteen, and then I came here, looking for a job. The old butler spoke to you on my behalf, and you graciously allowed me to become one of the housemaids."
Karl listened intently to your words, his gaze drifting away for a moment as he processed the information. But when he turned back to you, there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he asked, "And you've been serving me ever since?"
You nodded, a sense of pride evident in your voice as you replied, "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister. It has been an honor to serve you and to take care of all your needs."
Karl looked away, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions as he questioned whether your loyalty was truly genuine. "But would you be willing to take care of me, of all my needs?" he asked hesitantly, his baritone voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
You frowned slightly at his question, unsure of what he was getting at. "Yes, of course, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied earnestly, your voice filled with determination. "I am here to serve you in any way that I can."
Karl's gaze softened at your response, and he reached out to take your hand in his, pressing it gently against his chest as he searched your eyes for reassurance. "All my needs?" he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blushed at the implication of his words, understanding what he was asking. Unable to meet his gaze, you looked away briefly before meeting his eyes once again, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Yes, all your needs," you affirmed, your voice steady despite the embarrassment that coursed through your veins.
Karl's expression softens further, his gray eyes filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability as he pulls you closer by the wrist he's holding. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he brings his other hand to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.
His voice falls into a low, husky cadence as he asks you to answer to his need now. "Do you mean that, [Your Name]?" Karl's voice is barely above a whisper, filled with a desperate hopefulness.
You meet his gaze, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. His vulnerability surprises you, but there's something in his eyes that draws you closer, despite the implications of his request. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you reply softly, your voice trembling slightly. "I am here to serve you."
Karl's grip tightens slightly on your chin, his gaze intense as he leans closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Then kiss me," he murmurs, his voice a mere whisper against your lips.
You hesitate for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. But then, with a newfound resolve, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as you press your lips against his.
At first, the kiss is tentative, hesitant, as if both of you are unsure of what to expect. But then, as the seconds pass, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. Karl's hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss even further.
The warmth of his lips against yours sends a shiver of desire coursing through your veins, igniting a fire deep within your soul. You respond eagerly, your hands moving to tangle in his gray hair as you lose yourself in the intensity of the moment.
For a brief, fleeting moment, nothing else exists except the two of you, lost in each other's embrace. And as you pull away, breathless and flushed with desire, you realize that nothing will ever be the same again.
Karl's gray eyes are dark with longing as he admits in a husky voice, "I want to take you to my bed today, [Your Name]."
Your heart races at his words, your cheeks flushing with excitement as you nod eagerly, your desire mirroring his own. Karl's touch is surprisingly gentle as he caresses your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he studies your expression.
In a moment of vulnerability, Karl's gaze drifts to your lips before he gathers his courage to ask, "Are you... a virgin, [Your Name]?" His voice is soft, tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he waits for your response.
You blush at the question, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement as you shake your head. "No, Herr Hoffmeister," you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm sorry."
But Karl's response surprises you. Instead of expressing disappointment or disapproval, he simply smiles and says, "It's alright, [Your Name]. I don't mind." His words are filled with understanding and acceptance, easing the tension that had been building inside you.
Then, with a note of anticipation in his voice, Karl questions, "Do you... want this? Want to go to bed with me, [Your Name]?" His eyes search yours, longing to hear your answer, to know that you desire him as much as he desires you.
You meet his gaze with unwavering determination, the fire of desire burning brightly in your eyes as you confess, "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister. For a long time, I've thought about it, imagined what it would be like to be taken care of by you, just as you took care of Mrs. Hoffmeister."
Karl's heart swells with a mixture of desire and affection at your words, his hands trembling slightly as he lets go of your face and rises from the bathtub. Moving away from you, he looks momentarily irritated as he says, "Don't mention her, Fräulein. I don't want to think about the fact that she left me for another man."
You nod apologetically, understanding the pain that Karl must be feeling at the mention of his estranged wife. As Karl dries himself off with a towel, he orders you to follow him, and you do so obediently as he leaves the bathroom and heads towards the bedroom.
The anticipation hangs thick in the air as you enter the bedroom together, the tension between you palpable as you both prepare to take the next step in your relationship. His gaze lingers on your simple maid's dress, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that sends a shiver of desire down his spine. He can feel his pulse quicken with each passing moment, his arousal evident as he takes in the sight of you standing before him.
With a husky voice, Karl murmurs, "Fräulein, come closer." His words are a command, filled with a raw intensity that leaves no room for hesitation. You obey without question, stepping closer to him until you're standing just inches apart, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.
Karl's hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His lips are demanding, hungry, as he claims you with a passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more.
And as Karl's lips claim yours in a passionate kiss, you feel the unmistakable prickle of his mustache against your skin, sending a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. You relish the sensation, savoring the feeling of his rough facial hair against your soft lips, a tantalizing reminder of his masculinity.
But as the kiss deepens, you break away, holding his shoulders firmly as you gaze into his gray eyes with unwavering determination. His naked form stands before you, still slightly damp from the bath you had given him earlier, his baritone voice filled with desire as he watches you intently.
With deliberate movements, you caress his shoulders, feeling the tension melt away beneath your touch. Your hands glide down to his chest, tracing the contours of his muscular frame before slowly falling to your knees in front of him, maintaining eye contact as you do so.
Karl's breath catches in his throat as he watches you, anticipation evident in his gaze as he waits for you to take the next step. His half-hard cock twitches with desire, but you deliberately ignore it for now, focusing instead on pleasing him in other ways.
As you settle at his feet, your hands trail up his thighs, the fabric of your simple maid's dress brushing against his skin. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his arousal evident as you continue to tease him with your touch.
With a coy smile, you look up at him, your eyes shining with mischief as you ask in a husky voice, "Herr Hoffmeister, may I take care of your needs?" Your words are filled with promise, a hint of anticipation laced with desire as you await his response.
Karl's breath hitches at your question, his gray eyes dark with desire as he nods eagerly, his voice thick with arousal. "Yes, Fräulein," he murmurs, his voice husky with need. "Please, take care of me."
With a wicked grin, you lean forward, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh as you trail kisses along his flesh. You can feel his pulse quicken beneath your touch, his breath coming in shallow gasps as you tease him mercilessly.
But you're not done yet. With a slow, deliberate motion, you run your hands up his thighs, bypassing his aching cock as you reach for his hips. Karl's groan of frustration only spurs you on, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you revel in the power you hold over him.
With practiced ease, you massage his hips, your fingers digging into his flesh as you work to relieve the tension that has built up within him. Karl's grip tightens on your shoulders, his baritone voice filled with desperation as he pleads with you to give him what he craves.
The hunger in Karl's gray eyes grows more intense, his baritone voice thick with desire as he watches you with unabashed longing. The sight of you, dressed in your simple maid's attire, on your knees before him ignites a fire within him, driving him to the brink of madness with need.
But even in this vulnerable position, it's clear to karl that you hold all the power. Your wicked grin, your teasing touch, they all serve to remind him that it's you who dictates the pace, you who decides how far this will go.
And yet, Karl can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of surrendering control to you. With a low growl of desire, he reaches down to grasp your chin, his thumb brushing lightly against your lips as he murmurs in a husky voice, "You have me completely at your mercy, Fräulein. But I warn you, I'm not easily tamed."
Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you meet his gaze, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you reply, "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Herr Hoffmeister. But don't worry, I like a challenge."
With that, you lean forward, your lips trailing a path of fire along his inner thigh as you inch closer and closer to your ultimate goal. Karl's pulse quickens with each teasing touch, his heart racing with anticipation as he feels your lips inch closer to his aching cock.
And then, finally, your lips closed around him, your mouth hot and wet as you took him deep within your throat. Karl's head fell back in ecstasy, his gray eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your touch.
With each expert flick of your tongue, each gentle suckle of your lips, Karl felt himself spiraling further and further into a blissful haze of desire. Your mouth was pure heaven, a sinful delight that threatened to consume him whole as you worked your magic on him.
But Karl wasn't content to simply be a passive participant in this dance of pleasure. With a low growl of desire, he reached down to grasp your hair, guiding you with gentle but firm pressure as he set the rhythm of your movements.
The feeling of your lips wrapped around him, your tongue swirling and dancing with wicked intent, was enough to drive Karl to the edge of sanity. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the effort to contain the overwhelming tide of pleasure that threatened to consume him.
As he felt himself nearing the brink of ecstasy, he abruptly pulled away, leaving you gasping for more as he instructed you to disrobe and recline upon the bed. Eager to feel him within you, you wasted no time in complying with his command, swiftly removing your garments and lying back upon the bed, your body pulsating with anticipation.
Karl watched intently as you shed each piece of clothing, his gray eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of your naked form. He admired the way your curves beckoned to him, the softness of your skin inviting him to explore every inch of your body.
Once you were fully undressed and lying on the bed, Karl moved closer, his hands trembling with need as he reached down to caress his own throbbing cock. His baritone voice was thick with desire as he spoke, his words sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.
"Now, meine liebe, I want to feel you around me," Karl murmured, his voice husky with lust as he positioned himself between your legs. "But first, I need to prepare you for me."
With a wicked grin, Karl leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before trailing kisses down your neck and chest, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. As he reached your breasts, he took each nipple into his mouth in turn, sucking and nibbling on them with fervent desire.
Your breath hitched at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his gray hair as you arched your back in pleasure. Karl's mustache tickled your skin, adding to the intensity of the sensation as he lavished attention on your sensitive peaks.
But Karl wasn't content to stop there. With a devilish gleam in his eyes, he continued his journey southward, trailing kisses along your stomach and thighs until he reached the apex of your desire. His tongue flicked out to taste your wetness, and you moaned in ecstasy as he teased you with his expert ministrations.
"Oh, Herr Hoffmeister," you gasped, your voice thick with desire as he worshipped you with his mouth. "Please, I need you inside me."
Karl removes his mouth from your pussy, and a soft whimper escapes your lips, craving more of his touch. He doesn't disappoint, his thick fingers soon replacing his tongue as he stretches you open, preparing you for what's to come. With practiced ease, he slides two fingers inside you, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"Karl," you moan softly, obeying his command to call him by his first name. The sound of his name on your lips is like music to his ears, fueling his desire even further. But he reminds you to keep your voice down, not wanting to wake his son with your passionate cries.
You nod eagerly, squirming on the bed as Karl's fingers explore every inch of you, driving you wild with need. His baritone voice washes over you like a wave of heat as he murmurs, "That's it, meine liebe. Moan my name for me, but remember, quietly."
With each thrust of his fingers, you can't help but moan, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity. "Karl," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper as you ride his fingers, craving more of him with each passing moment.
Karl's gray hair brushes against your skin as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his mustache tickling your skin as his tongue dances with yours. The sensation sends a jolt of desire straight to your core, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy with each passing second.
As the heat between you reaches its peak, Karl finally withdraws his fingers, his gaze filled with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. With a wicked grin, he whispers, "Are you ready for me, meine liebe? Ready to take all of me?"
You nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as Karl enters you with a single, powerful thrust. The feeling of him filling you completely is overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in a dizzying whirlwind.
"Karl," you cry out, unable to contain your passion as he moves inside you, each thrust driving you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. But you remember his warning and keep your voice low, your moans muffled against his shoulder as you surrender yourself to the pleasure of his touch.
With each thrust, Karl's baritone voice fills the room, urging you on with whispered words of encouragement. "That's it, meine liebe," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Take all of me. Feel me deep inside you."
You cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his back as you ride the wave of pleasure together. And as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy, you cry out his name one last time, your voice filled with pure bliss as you finally succumb to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.
As Karl continues thrusting, chasing his own climax, you writhe beneath him, your body aching with pleasure as you cling to him desperately. His baritone voice fills the room with a chorus of moans and groans, the sound of his pleasure mingling with your own as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy together.
With a hoarse moan, Karl finally pulls out, his seed spilling onto your belly in a hot, sticky mess. For a moment, he stays on top of you, his body trapping you against the mattress as he revels in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. Then, with a contented sigh, he rolls off of you and lies next to you with a satisfied smile on his lips.
You lie side by side, panting and spent, your bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. But despite the exhaustion that threatens to consume you, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you as you bask in the warmth of Karl's embrace.
Feeling a surge of affection, you crawl towards him, pressing your naked body against his as you lay your head on his chest. Karl's arms wrap around you instinctively, pulling you close as he presses a tender kiss to your head.
With a contented sigh, you ask in a soft voice, "Did I manage to meet your needs, Karl?"
Karl's gray eyes sparkle with affection as he gazes down at you, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, meine liebe," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth. "You exceeded my every expectation."
Feeling emboldened by his words, you trail a hand down his chest, teasing him with feather-light touches as you whisper in his ear, "Is there anything else you desire, Karl? Anything at all?"
Karl's breath hitches at your touch, his pulse quickening with desire as he meets your gaze with unwavering intensity. "Oh, Fräulein," he murmurs, his voice thick with longing. "I desire nothing more than to lose myself in you, body and soul."
With that, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hunger evident as he claims you with a passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more. And as you surrender yourself to the pleasure of his touch once again, you realize that this is only the beginning of your journey together.
Translation:
"meine liebe" - my love
"Herr Hoffmeister" - Mr. Hoffmeister
"Fräulein" - Miss (or young woman, typically used to address an unmarried woman)
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willows-peak · 11 months ago
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*・゚✧ A Teammate, Not A Foe
tags: fem!reader, ramble turned fic, vibrators, cock warming, lotus position, petname (baby, princess)
MDNI
word count: 1.1k
a/n: writers block has lifted long enough to cook this up. Im on my phone so im srry for any inconsistencies in formatting
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⋆。˚ ♡  I think he's the type to find it hilarious if he accidentally stumbles upon a toy you've hidden while you two are together in your room, fiddling around with it while loudly talking about it to embarrass you. He's definitely holding your wrists together so you can’t wriggle it away from him while he switches between the different modes.
"Woah, it's so intense!"
"Aww, it looks cute with the pink color"
"Is this why you weren't talking to me last night, baby?"
That comment especially made your face go especially red because yes, it was the reason why. You'd only had enough energy last night to wipe off your toy and toss it to the side of your bed instead of placing it inside a box underneath it. And of course Gojo had to come over before you remembered to put it away, because when could your life ever be easy?
He'd eventually stop and turn it off, seeing your teary eyes and flustered face and feeling slightly bad. He'd free your wrists but still keep a firm enough grip on the toy that you couldn't snatch it away. "Don't be embarrassed princess, it's nothing to be ashamed about~" He'd say, patting your head in the most condescending way and not bothering to hide his grin from your angry glare up at him. 
"Besides...I think this gave me an idea. Wanna help me out with it?" He asked, his head turning to the side as he twirled the smooth plastic between his deft fingers.
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His 'idea', as you've just now learned, was more of a challenge obviously in his favor. You were sat on his lap, hips jerking down as you bit your finger to stifle another yelp threatening to come out of you, body shaking and helplessly bucking as your vibrator was pressed down against your swollen, sensitive clit. Gojo was buried up inside you, sitting still and watching you with lustful eyes as you shook into his chest. 
Your first mistake was not questioning what 'idea' he had in mind before he was balls deep inside of you, and somewhere, in your mind you're sure he knew this would happen, cursing him out mentally. 
"Satoru, why exactly do you still have that?" You huffed out, motioning towards the small pink vibrator he held in his palm, watching it travel up your inner thigh and come to rest just above your clit. “I jus’ wanna see something… You think you can last longer than me with this going?” He asked, nudging the tip of it against your bud and snickering when you tightened down around him in response. “Didn't I make you cum in your pants yesterday?” 
You shot back, your voice lacking a competitive edge when Gojo leaned your body back to push your lips open, the vibrator now laying right underneath your clit. Gojo laughed at your attitude, nodding in agreement as his thumb glided down to the ‘on’ button, not pressing it just yet. You held your breath in anticipation, Gojo's arm snaked around your waist and held you in a leaned back position, the tip of his cock pressing up against the front of your walls and making you shiver with every movement. 
“When I win, you're getting me tiramisu.” Gojo said confidently, giving you a moment to roll your eyes before switching the vibrator on, smiling widely at how loud you gasped and how quickly you started to fidget around into him. Gojo's cock pulsating randomly mixed with the unwavering vibrations near attacking your clit was making you squirm in his lap, against his hand quickly coming to caress your hip and hold you still against the onslaught of pleasure.
Just when you started to get used to the vibrations, Gojo would manage to crumple that ounce of control you got by rubbing the vibrator around in small, slow circles, shuddering in arousal as you once again tried moving away from the loud rumbling between your legs. “Fuck, you're squeezin’ me so tight, princess,” Gojo purred out, his breath labored from watching you quickly lose more and more of your composure, your body coming down to hold his own tightly, nails raking across his tough shoulder blades as you moaned into his collar.
And, unsurprisingly, you didn't win his little challenge. In a matter of minutes, you were bowing into yourself from the intensity of your orgasm, gasping and moaning brokenly into Gojo's skin as he gently thrusted up into you, helping you ride out your orgasm and whispering praises and pressing kisses against the top of your head while you came around him. 
“Sa-toru, fffuck, off off off please-” You stammered out, your post orgasm haze fading away and being replaced by white hot sensitivity, whining out as Gojo dragged the vibrator up, off your clit before turning it off, letting you let out a long sigh of relief. Despite his still hard and aching cock being pulsed around, Gojo resisted the urge to get himself off until you properly recovered from your orgasm, littering your face with kisses and gleefully smiling at how you pushed at his chest in retaliation. 
“Why didn't you tell me you had this thing sooner? That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.” Gojo spoke, his tone thick with arousal still as your panting began to even out, your head lifting to look down into his eyes. “I thought you'd be weird about it.. guys usually don't like girls using toys, so-” You stopped yourself as Gojo let out a dramatic scoff in response. “Like a piece of plastic could replace me~” He said, pressing said plastic against the squishy skin of your inner thigh, watching how they glimmered with a mixture of your wetness and your release.
You pressed your lips together for a moment at the stimulation, looking back at Gojo and quickly realizing he was nowhere near done with you yet. “Hey, baby, I got a new idea,” he began, rubbing the junction between your cunt and inner thigh softly while he spoke. “How bout we see how many orgasms I can get out of you before I cum inside you, hm?” His tone was near sickening with how sweet it was, eyes glistening with mischief as you nodded slowly. “Gimme another minute, ok ‘toru?” You said, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as Gojo continued massaging your thighs, not making any more moves to touch you just yet.
He knew that the toy had more settings to try out, he wasn't in any rush to end things.
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fridayth13 · 9 months ago
Note
I just read your Zhongli reuniting with his wife fic and I absolutely adore it! Could I request a continuation of that where the two talk things out and forgive each other?
galaxies unseen in shavings of jade.
↳ zhongli × gn!immortal!artist!reader
↳ part one, part two
↳ genre: angst with a happy ending | wordcount: 2.8k | warnings: none that i can tell
↳ notes: HI 😭 god sorry that took so long. between the writers block and the anxiety i struggled to end it in a way that made sense. but i think im happy with what i made here. i really did enjoy writing both the first and second part of this :') so i hope you enjoy this one just as much
shoutout to @ad0rechuu for helping me out of writer's block :')
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Truth be told, Zhongli had no idea how to talk to you. He was clumsy in matters of the heart. Despite all his years and experience, he could never have prepared himself for how thoroughly you bewitched him. He wondered if you noticed at some point and simply never told him. While embarrassing, it did relieve him in a way. It only meant you didn't mind it. The mere fact that you allowed him the grace of holding you close meant you might have even been enamored by his eccentricities. He would be lying if he said he wasn't terrified of you pulling away one day. What would he do with himself then?
Unfortunately, he'd gotten his answer.
Inexperienced as he was with the heart, the Geo Archon was steadier than the oldest rock formation; stubborn as a boulder that refused to break through the horrors of the Archon War, and through the deep ache of losing you.
He braved through it. Though not without the damage.
Five hundred years later, there was no more war in Liyue. No more strife and suffering tearing through his nation. But most strikingly, no you. He was plagued late in the night with the thought of giving back the era of peace if it meant he could have even a sliver of your presence in his life again.
He couldn't do that. He wouldn't.
But he thought of it. Frequently.
One day after the war, he couldn't find you anywhere. Sunrise had just begun to peek past the mountains, lightening the shadow of night, as if Celestia had descended to celebrate the end of the war. It had been a long night of fighting. Issuing orders among his adepti. Finding out what he should say to you when he got home.
You were both incredibly stubborn. It was a part of you Morax adored, no matter how many arguments the two of you went through because of it. But he feared the night before may have gone overboard. He'd thought you were being foolish, trying to risk your life on the battlefield. What were you thinking? Didn't you know how far everything would fall if you were to get hurt on his watch? Didn't you understand how much the guilt would consume him? How much he would crumble without you to steady him? You were his partner. His confidante. His everything.
He didn't understand you either. Didn't understand that you only wanted to help. That you wanted to prove he didn't have to be alone on the frontlines. That you would have his back as readily as he would have yours. Too late, did he finally think of it that way. It was only after the words have been said, like venom being spat. Morax had gone back to his war, exactly what you told him not to do. And as for you, it seemed you had followed suit.
He sought you out immediately. Days and nights of searching later, he found you speaking with General Musatas.
"I'm leaving."
All these years later, Zhongli knew how much of a mistake this was— he hid. Your words sent a chill through him, as if his blood had turned to ice. Despite the slight tremble in your voice, there was a bit of fire there. The one he recognized in you when you were set on a decision.
"Are.. Are you sure?" Yingda questioned. Her voice dropped to a hesitant whisper, and he had to strain to hear. "But Morax—"
"Forget Morax." You snapped. "I can't speak with him right now. Don't tell him where I'm going please."
"I don't even know where you're going." She exclaimed. "Yn.."
"I'll be safe. You know I can handle myself." Then, with some bitterness: "At least, someone does."
Yingda whined, unsure. "Will you return.. one day? Will we be able to see you again?"
The warmth in your voice made your lover ache.
"Liyue is at peace. I'm sure I will see you lot again at some point. Maybe even at the little harbor the humans have constructed. You spoke of wanting to go there with your fellow yakshas, haven't you?"
"Yes, but.. Are you sure? Truly sure you want to leave?"
You paused. Morax grasped at the silence with bated breath.
"Yes." You said.
Then all the wind was knocked out of him. The war was over. He'd been defeated. He couldn't even find it in himself to watch you go.
A moment of weakness was stolen in between the five hundred years of stubbornness.
You, wrought through nightmares of the Archon War and exhaustion weighing you down like an anchor, trudged through the harbor. Your arms wrapped around your figure in a feeble attempt to protect yourself from the cold night air.
It was a moment between moments— witnessed by only you and the swarm of stars in the heavens.
You'd stopped at the bridge, bracing yourself on the rail with a heavy exhale.
You missed him. His warmth. His voice.
Visions of spilled ichor and the ruthless clang of weapons filled your pained mind.
You wished you lost the argument all those years ago.
You hated that.
You hated him. You hated yourself.
You missed him more though.
For a mere second, slowed by fear and the precariousness of your hope, you opened your mouth, about to speak.
And then the second ended. Tears spilled from your eyes, warming your cool face. You thought only of bloodshed. From the war, and whatever it was that happened to your relationship after it.
You cursed yourself. You couldn't just call him now, could you? Not after deserting him and vowing never to come back.
You conjured the situation in your mind's eye. Rex Lapis, Geo Archon from even before the war— the most ancient and formidable of them all, summoned by his ex at the drop of a hat. It felt like a particularly unfunny joke made at your expense.
There was no way he'd want you anymore after all that.
And so that night remained a secret between you and the stars. And if you stayed at the bridge a few minutes longer with the unfounded hope he might see you there waiting for him, and still love you, then it was for only the stars to discuss.
The second biggest mistake of Zhongli's life was not running to you the moment he saw you again after all that time.
It was a little secret between him and the wind. And partially, Director Hu, who had accompanied him into the art exhibit in the first place.
It hadn't even been his intention to attend. A particular painting turned his head as he passed by— a meadow of glaze lilies. Not an uncommon scene portrayed by mortal artists. But there had been a certain feeling it evoked in him, catching his gaze a second longer than it ought to.
Hu Tao saw him looking at the painting and skipped inside despite his protest. And so, Zhongli breathed out a sigh and went after her.
"Was this the one you were looking at?" She asked.
"Yes." He eyed the painting with scrutiny. "Glaze lilies.."
Hu Tao hummed in agreement. "It is quite beautiful."
Zhongli agreed. But there was something else to it. Something that made him really rack his brain for the word— familiarity.
It had been centuries since a scene of glaze lilies bountiful enough to form a field so blue. He doubted any mortal would have lived long enough to have seen one, and yet, this particular depiction was spot on. Every azure brush stroke dashed over the canvas like rolling tides, perfectly recapturing the luster of seeing a glaze liliy's sparkling quality up close. Truly, a sea of them. Just as the poems of old described. Just how Zhongli remembered them before the flowers' numbers dwindled down to a rarity. Almost as if the painter themselves had been there with him to witness their bloom in spring.
Zhongli ended up enjoying the art exhibit, after all. He took extra note of the work by the artist of the glaze lilies. Whoever they were had a tendency for plain scenes. And yet, the depictions of things as mundane as jade shavings were as vibrant as galaxies, reflecting against the color of the harbor's light. He couldn't help but find a certain charm in the style. And the aforementioned familiarity. The longer he looked at each scene, the more he felt as though he was present when they were sketching out the shapes.
"Do you reckon we could find the artist at this very exhibit?" Hu Tao piped up.
Zhongli took a moment to realize she was speaking.
"Ah. Perhaps." He nearly stammered, then cleared his throat as he turned to look at her. "It is not uncommon for them to go about and ask opinions of their work."
"You know, you've been particularly attracted to this artist." Hu Tao teased lightly. "We do need your portrait done for the directory. Maybe I could ask them?"
Zhongli chuckled, about to respond to her quip.
Then there you were, turning around the corner. There were earthquakes with less magnitude than the effect you had on him.
Suddenly, everything made sense. The paintings were all yours. They were in your style hidden under a pen name. They were yours. As comfortable a sight to him as the ones you used to make sitting next to him in Jueyun Karst.
Panic seized him then. What would you think of him? Here? At your work? Would you spare him a glance after the first? Would you shun him? Remove him from the premises? No one knew who he was but you, but you alone was certainly enough for him to listen.
Worse yet, Hu Tao was present. She was an inquisitive woman. She was quite smart when she wanted to be, and Zhongli did not want to divulge five centuries worth of heartbreak with her, or even himself.
With a similar sentiment, he didn't know if he could handle being rejected by you a second time. He didn't want to cause you trouble at work where you were clearly enjoying yourself.
You made a coward out of him. You reduced the Archon of Liyue to a fumbling boy with a crush, even back then. Especially now. And in that moment, it was your brilliant smile that intimidated him most.
You looked happy without him.
You didn't know what had possessed Zhongli to run after you as you crossed the funeral parlor's threshold.
Brow creasing in bewilderment, you turned to him. It was only a few steps, yet he looked out of breath. Frantic, even.
"..Mr. Zhongli?"
"Please." You didn't miss the way he reached out, hand inches away from your own. It fell back to his side as he steeled himself to speak again.
You readjusted your bag hanging over your shoulder. "Yes?"
"Allow me to walk you back."
You raised an eyebrow at him.
"It's quite late. It.." He clasped his hands together behind his back, hesitating for a moment. "..I only want to be sure you reach your home safely."
So there you were, begrudgingly letting him walk you home. Only he didn't mention the fact he had no idea where you lived, so neither did you. For the moment, you were content with watching the pitiful jerk walk you in circles around the harbor, panicking and relaxing every few minutes as he tried to surmise which street he's supposed to lead you through.
Reach your home safely. What a joke. What, was he going to buy you flowers now too? The two of you had shared but a few conversations after all that silence, and he just.. Ugh. Did he think you were kidding? Did he think you would come crawling back or something?
Though, the longer you watched him, the more you felt as though you missed the mark. Maybe you had been getting ahead of yourself. He might only be being polite.
The two of you were standing by Chihu Rock, at the very edge of the bridge. For a moment, he turned to you as if he'd finally let the facade drop and admit he didn't know where to go, then he turned away again.
"Mr. Zhongli?"
"Yn."
You heaved out a sigh, tugging your bag closer over your shoulder.
"You don't—"
"I need to talk to you." He uttered, swiftly cutting you off.
Your throat seemed to close, leaving you out of breath despite the leisurely pace you'd taken throughout the walk. Unable to say anything, you only nodded.
Zhongli looked at you, amber eyes pinched with worry.
"I am truly sorry for what happened between us."
"You said that already."
"I–" Zhongli shifted his weight between his feet. He still couldn't quite look you in the eye. "I know, I just.. I don't think I'll be able to say it enough to compensate for the time I had spent brooding instead of.."
It was your turn to look away then, fingers twitching nervously along your bag strap. You could only watch his approach through the corner of your eye. He stopped mere inches away from you, his own gloved hands coming up like he didn't know where to put them; wondering if they still fit against you; shaking with the trepidation of it not being so. Of the very real possibility that you had.. moved on. Outgrown him. That he had been too late.
You remained strong, crossing your arms over your chest.
But your voice caught in your throat trying to get the words out. Your still couldn't meet his eyes. Then it all came out in a fragile whisper meant only for him. Hidden in the pocket of silence between you, under the hustle and bustle of the mortal night life, you whispered:
"What are you trying to say, Morax?"
Entirely unbeknownst to you, the use of his true name sent a shiver across his skin. Like a rush of adrenaline to push him along, it flowed through him in a spark of warmth.
He reached for your hand. He didn't quite hold it, moreso just your fingers, as if testing the waters of your tolerance.
How badly he wished he could kiss along your knuckles as he once had. How he ached for the blankness in your eyes to cease. To make way for the affection he allowed to get away from him.
What he didn't know was what you were thinking of: the night you went out to that very same bridge, aching for him in turn.
Well, there he was.
And there you were.
"Allow me back into your life." He pleaded at last. "Please, Yn, I.. I cannot afford to have you so close only for you to slip through my fingers once again."
"Morax.."
"I intend to fight for you this time." Zhongli's grip on your hand grew firm. "I should've done that long ago. I should have stayed with you, or I should have chased after you. I should have begged for you to stay, and I was a fool for not doing so. Forgive me."
You blinked at him. Your hand gripped the rail, thumb running nervously over the night-cooled wood. You were suddenly aware of the passersby at the edge of the city. A group of curious children watched you from afar, and in your attempt to ignore them, you looked up, and were forced to notice the glaringly close proximity you and Zhongli drew yourselves in. His cor lapis eyes cut like amber shards. Still, sincerity softened his expression. In turn, his earnestness softened you. You cursed him for how malleable he made you to his whims.
When you left, you had to build yourself back up. You learned how to stand on your own. You were so determined not to reduce yourself into some crying, besotted ex-spouse that you had confused loneliness for independence.
It hurt to realize that so late. It hurt that you could only realize that now, inches away from him, wanting nothing more than to forget yourself and cry into your lover's arms. It hurt just to look at him.
All this time, you could have just asked. There was no one to blame for your loneliness but you and your own foolish pride.
You sighed deeply, turning your gaze to the mountain ranges carving against the skyline.
"I don't feel like there's anything to forgive." You mumbled. His fingers crept into the space between yours as you talked. You held onto his touch with your very life. "I feel like I should be asking you that."
Zhongli frowned. "To that, I am not sure what to say."
You hummed, feet scuffing against the wooden planks of the bridge.
"Walk with me then? We certainly have time."
Your chest was alight looking at the brightness in his eyes when you said that.
"Gladly." Zhongli nodded, lightly squeezing your hand. You could see the corners of his lips fighting back a grin.
He really did miss you. As much as your emotional turmoil wanted to refute it, you knew him better than you could ever hate yourself. And you loved him more than anything.
You were only thankful he seemed to love you just as much.
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