#Let the space shenanigans begin

[cauldronblssd]

We're Leaving the Planet, and You Can't Come

CH 1/6 | Read on AO3

Thank you once again to the best beta, @climbthemountain2020 and @witch-and-her-witcher.

Also thank you to @moonpatroclus for encouraging me to write this.

TW: dubious consent, non consent

Elain sighed in frustration as she glanced down at her exposed flesh. She’d just managed to extricate herself from the polymer casing of her safety gear. The perfectly regulated air of the station kissed against her skin, the velveteen flooring soft and plush against her feet. Her domed mask rested in its port. It had been the perfect night in, before she’d been interrupted by the melodic ring of her transmitter. It sounded throughout her small station, muted by the carpeting covering the walls. 

“Commander Graysen, this is an unexpected call. Allow me to dress myself before we continue.”

“No need for that, Archeron. This is a matter of state.”

Elain didn’t see what one had to do with the other, it was hardly adherent to the decorum of a state matter to appear before him nude, but she didn’t argue. Graysen demanded unquestioning compliance. While his methods were unorthodox, and at times unpleasant, she’d been urged by the others at her home gate to accept his quirks rather than put him in a poor mood. She plastered on a pleasant smile, forcing herself to pinch up her cheeks so that it would reach her eyes.

“Very well then, what’s the urgent matter?” Elain shuddered at the way his eyes roved over her body as she spoke, holding herself back from covering her breasts with her arms as she stood at attention.

She was beautiful to the males, she knew, who requested her more often than most when they copulated in the modern fashion. She didn’t know why it mattered, the whole thing lasted no more than a moment, hardly long enough for them to develop a preference. Still, she accepted amiably, forcing an enthusiastic smile onto her face, the same smile she took the exaltation transference pill with, and held out her palm to the man’s own, inevitably sweaty and unappealing.

“We received word from an informant that a male has left the station in aid of a leader that puts our Sun System in great danger.”

“Danger? But we haven’t had that in decades,” Elain exclaimed. All thoughts of Graysen and his unsettling gaze were gone, as she tried to imagine what kind of danger they might face and how she could possibly be involved in it. The Sun System had been at peace for longer than she’d been alive, the greatest crimes simply a waste of resources or a return to more primal habits that sometimes gripped those less astute in the teachings of the Nolans and their ilk.

Elain, under the tutelage of her sisters and, at times, her negligent but stern parents, had grown up in the New Ways. She adhered to all its principles, eschewing all primal pleasures and wants, for the restraint of an intellectual.

“He carried with him a weapon he’d developed, one harnessing the powers of old ash, that could cause great harm to humans and other creatures alike.”

To what creatures he referred, she could hardly imagine. She’d heard tales from Nesta of great creatures not like human men at all, ones who slithered along the swamps of other planets or flew like winged predators through the air, keen on capturing a human woman. Even still, the idea of violence was abhorrent, so wholly against her own principles as a woman of the New Way.

As her mind continued to whir and wander, Graysen continued, “We’d like you to travel to the planet Hybern to go find him. We believe he goes by the name ‘Vanserra.’” He said it with a sneer that curled up his lip, clearly unable to contain his disgust. “He serves the Great High Lord.”

“Whatever can I do about it?” She was hardly the most well-trained member of her team– that could only be credited to Nesta. Nor was she especially brave like Feyre.

“Use your charms, find Vanserra, and bring him back by any means necessary.”

Elain only nodded, unease raking through her. A solo mission would be a lonely one, and she wished she might bring her sister or a friend along with her. Instead, she redressed herself, donning a silver uniform that clung tightly to her curves and exposed the whole of her bare leg, before sliding a boot of the same color up to the curve of her thighs. It would do for the planet of Hybern, she’d been told. She lay down for sleep, cold glass encasing her body, pressing against her skin as she drifted off to sleep. The station would carry her to Hybern, and, if she was lucky, she’d be there by the time she woke.

*****

Elain should have known better. She’d never been lucky, that always fell to one of the happy, unbothered ladies that seemed to surround her. It had been why she’d placed herself on call, despite her sisters’ protestations that she’d be too sensitive for an outward mission. She longed for adventure – and now she had it. 

The station shook aggressively, rattling her bones and bumping her aggressively into the glass walls of her sleeping pod. The cacophonous sounds of the sputtering engine overwhelmed her, a smoky scent filling the air. Before she could brace herself for impact, the station crashed with a hard thud, throwing her off balance against the wall.

Steam hissed in the air as she crawled on her hands and knees. The large screen she used to communicate screeched with static. Blind in the smoky fog of the room, she touched the surfaces along the floor and walls. Elain grunted with relief when she found the door, scrambling for the latch to push it open. Something pushed against the door as she tried to open it, and she thrust her full body weight into it. At last, she stumbled out of the station, taking a deep breath and noting with relief that her oxygen mask would not be needed.

That was the only comfort this planet was likely to offer her, and she shivered as the hair raised on her arms. A cold, harsh wind cut through Elain’s already scant attire, raking against her bare skin. Her hair blew around her face, hitting her with surprising force. 

Elain’s heart stopped as she yanked the golden-brown strands away from her face to see in front of her. Ghostly children, in shimmering shades of white approached her. Perhaps it was a phantom of her imagination, a result of the harsh impact of her crash landing. She’d heard of monsters on other planets, beings that were not human at all, but something like it. She’d never heard tales of this, children both haunted and beautiful, approaching her en masse.

Elain staggered backwards, placing her hands against the increasingly cold metal of her station. It was a cheery pink, bright and garish against the cold white backdrop of this place. It had been foolhardy to trap herself against it like this, seeking the stability of the familiar. It went against every bit of training that she’d received in her time on the guard. Perhaps her sisters had been right, she should have remained on the care teams, relegated to easy daily tasks more suited to her anxious disposition. The children made no sound as they approached her, wafting on the air as if by magic. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, her whole-body shivering.

The children beckoned her as they surrounded her. There was nothing to do but follow, though she was loath to leave the comfort of her station behind. Her steps made an audible crunch against the cold rock underfoot, unlike the silent glide of the apparitions in front of her.

It was only when they arrived in a room inside a cave, with a rudimentary cell carved into the side of a mountainous rock that she began to question her decision. Her commanders had long informed her it was better to die in the moment than be captured. Awful scenarios began to circulate through her mind, each one featuring these unsettling ghostly children. 

They must have some kind of corporeal form, because, to her horror, one child, a small girl in pigtails, began to bind her wrists to the bars of the cell, tightly overhead. Her ankles were then restrained, holding her in place with little give to move about. She began to shout, screaming for help, from whom she didn’t know. Did anyone inhabit this planet, or had they died, leaving only these half-alive creatures behind?

Her heart pounded in her chest, fear constricting her breathing as she cried out. 

She scratched and clawed for something she could grab as a pack of white foxes entered the room. They circled and sniffed at her as she stood, unable to move. 

The sound of a thunderous bellow interrupted whatever horror had been about to occur. Standing in the entrance to the cave stood a man, or something like one. He was exceptionally tall and broad, filling the whole of the cave. Long, blood red hair curled and waved down his back, an ominous picture against the barren landscape. His lip lifted in a menacing snarl, claws protruding from his hands in a promise of what’s to come.

Elain gasped, her words gone from her as she watched him step forward, the children parting to make way. They scattered, leaving her alone in the cave with the foxes and the man in front of her. The animals too, seemed to heed his direction, falling into step behind him. 

Rich, brown skin spanned his muscular chest and arms. To bare so much of his body was an indecent exposure that would have him labeled a rebel in the Sun System. She turned her face away, as if the impropriety were the worst of the errors she might be reprimanded for when, if, she ever returned home.

One long claw touched her cheek, drawing a prick of blood, as he turned her face towards his own. It was inches from hers, and she could see the long, sharp fangs that he bared in a grimace. She pulled at the restraints on her wrists but there was no give to be found.  The man’s hot breath was warm against her face as he towered over her. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” Even as he said the words, he traced his claw languidly down her cheek and the curve of her neck. She shivered, unsure of whether to meet his eyes or if that would only provoke him further.

“You saved my life,” she uttered in response. Stupid. She could hardly ingratiate herself to a half wild man like this. Still, she tried to recall her training, considering what negotiations she might have to offer. “What can I offer you in return? My home planet, the Sun System, would pay handsomely for my return.”

He hissed in response. “And what is your life worth, then? How much gold would they offer?”

Elain’s lips trembled as she weighed her true value. Perhaps the Nolans didn’t intend for her to return at all. The more she considered this mission, the more unusual it seemed that she’d been sent alone with not even enough notice to inform her sisters. Perhaps there was no need to banish her when they could just send her away, expecting her to never successfully return. Perhaps this Vanserra didn’t exist at all.

“Don’t worry, little pet. I don’t need any gold.” Despite the reassurance, she hardly felt comforted as he took several deep breaths, his chest rising and falling closer to her with each one. Elain twisted again in the ropes holding her wrists and ankles, feeling at once both nervous of the implications and something else she hadn’t experienced before.

The man watched her useless pulling, an amused expression on his, admittedly beautiful, face. An arching, prominent nose and full lips set off his angular features, with one eye of a bright russet brown and the other an usual shade of golden yellow. It only highlighted his otherworldly appearance, his strangeness, or rather, her strangeness in this place she didn’t belong.

Home. She needed to go home. Forget Vanserra and this stupid mission.

“I need to fix my station, to get home. I’ll give you whatever you need.”

He quirked his brow as he looked her up and down.

“And if what I need is your body?”

Elain felt her brows pinch together as she struggled to understand his question. If he meant to take her body, or some part of it, she wasn’t sure she’d ever make it home.

The man crouched, leaning in close to her ear and Elain couldn’t help but suck in a breath at his warm scent, like a crackling fire in the middle of this barren, snow filled planet. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll make it feel good.”

That didn’t comfort her, at all. She still didn’t truly know what he meant and worse, she was beginning to suspect it was of a prurient nature – something that surely would get her banished on her home planet if she wasn’t already. Perhaps they sensed the same thing in her this man seemed to, the same reason she was called back over and over for transference.

“Copulation, you mean?” She said it in as neutral a tone as she could maintain, trying to hide her uncertainty at the idea. It was nothing, and yet, with this man...

“If that’s what you’d like to call it.” That amused grin was on his face again, baring his too sharp teeth. She looked down, nervous. And oh. She’d never seen a naked man before - it was hardly necessary for the act performed in the safety of the Sun System health centers. Could they all be as large as this? Or perhaps it was due to his otherwise large stature. 

The man chuckled, lifting her chin to bring her gaze back up to his eyes.

“You’ll have to untie my hands,” she offered, her will to fight this leaving her.

“Oh?” His smile turned into something else then, pulling at the left corner, highlighting that unusual eye. “You look rather pretty like this.” 

He pushed his hand against her own restrained one as if to show his meaning. His fingers interlaced with hers. Her heart thundered in her chest. He couldn’t mean to...

One long claw pulled at the front of her clothes, ripping the silver material away from her body in one swift gesture. Cold air rushed against her, her nipples hardening and a shiver running down her body.

“I didn’t bring the transference pill,” she continued. “I wasn’t expecting to...”

“Do the human men on your home planet need a pill to fuck you, love? You’re wasted on them, then.” He brought his mouth closer to her, her pulse quickening at the sight of his sharp fangs. He brought his mouth there, to where her heart fluttered in her neck, his tongue swirling around the spot. Something began to throb between her legs.

“I can smell you, sweet thing. I want to taste you, too.” 

He sucked at the crook where her neck joined her shoulder and a gasping moan escaped her. What was happening to her? It felt too good, nothing like transference at all. 

She’d heard talk of the old ways, of humans driven mad by lust, behaving no better than animals. It was all talk now, tales passed down through whispers. To even speak of it was strictly forbidden by the Nolans and the commanding officers of the Sun System. It was punishable by banishment, a sentence as sure as death.

Even knowing this, Elain leaned her head to the side, giving this man access. “What’s your name?”

He chuckled, sucking on her earlobe before speaking with the low growl of his voice. “Lucien. Call me Lucien, pretty human.” He dipped his fingers into her mouth, and she accepted it, sucking on them without knowing where the instinct came from.

“Lucien,” she repeated, as he removed his fingers from her mouth, a line of spit trailing in between them. Her cheeks flushed warm as she watched it. 

“And you? What shall I call you?” 

A more rational part of Elain whispered that she shouldn’t give him her name. Names had power. And still she couldn’t deny him anything, something pulling in her ribs, urging her to give herself over to him.

“Elain,” she said as she looked up at him, feeling desperate to move, to relieve the ache between her legs.

“Elain,” he repeated, smiling as he said it. He moved her hair off her face, a sudden tenderness to the gesture. She liked the way he said her name, a slight lilt to the word that made it sound different, more beautiful than plain.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe they sent you here all alone.” He rolled his hands up and down her sides in an exploratory fashion, as if letting her adjust to the idea of him touching her. 

Lucien brought one hand to her breast, cupping her gently in his large palm before rolling her hardened nipple between his fingers. She didn’t know. Didn’t know she could feel so sensitive, that a singular touch could feel like this. She whimpered in response. Was this a spell, some sort of magic cast by this alien creature? She wasn’t sure she cared. Her body chanted for more, more, more. The ache between her legs turning into a pulsating throb with every touch and tweak.

“These humans have been neglecting you,” he growled with a possessive squeeze of her throat. She’d have hardly called it that, didn’t like to think of the ways she avoided their unwelcome attentions. Here she was, tied up, unable to get away from Lucien’s invasive mouth that seemed equally inclined to talk as to taste, and yet she didn’t feel used at all, she felt wanted, worshiped. She arched her back, leaning further into him, the only movement the restraints allowed her.

He offered her another rueful smile as he squeezed at her throat the same moment his mouth connected with her breast. The swirling movements of his tongue against her, wet and warm, had her ready to beg for more. She’d die if he stopped.

He pulled his fingers away from her throat, placing them back in her mouth. “Quiet, Elain.” He said it in an admonishing tone, as if she should have known to be quiet, when he’d been growling and roaring for anyone to hear. It set off another alarm bell, one she chose to ignore in favor of the way he’d moved his mouth down her body, now kneeling in front of her.

Lucien ran a hand against her thighs, and she gasped, surprised to find them wet where he touched. Was this part of the magic, too? He dipped a finger against it before placing it into his own mouth. He let out another growl, not at all quiet, she thought.

She should feel debased, it was all wrong, or at least that’s what she’d been taught. She tried to shut her mind off from the pleasure, but then his tongue began to lap at the wetness between her legs, and she bowed and pulled against her restraints. It was too much, electrifying and overwhelming all at once and she wanted to close her legs against his onslaught. 

He didn’t slow, but he ran a soothing hand up and down her hip as he continued, licking and sucking and all but panting against her. Occasionally, he’d turn those sharp fangs to nibble at her thighs, offering her another sensation to focus on before he continued whatever slow build had started in her gut.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she rubbed wantonly against his face.

“God, I could die like this,” he murmured. Elain gasped, feeling panicked, and he chuckled in response. “Don’t worry, my pretty human, I won’t. At least not until I get my cock in this tight cunt of yours.”

He squeezed himself to indicate his meaning, and Elain felt another panic rise in her chest. She wasn’t sure where he would put that. It was long, wrapped in veins that seemed to dance against his skin as he moved his hand against them. Glistening fluid, much like her own, dripped from the tip, trailing down his cock and onto his hand.

“I can’t wait to see this pretty cunt stretch over my cock, sweet thing. You want me to come inside you, breed you full and keep you here as my pretty mate?”

She didn’t know what he meant, truly, but the way he said the words, the way his fist clenched around himself as he said them, gave her an idea. Mate. She liked the sound of that word, whimpering and whining in response.

He trailed his fingers between her legs, dipping one of his clawed fingers into her wet entrance before dragging the finger backwards. “You like that don’t you, want me to make you feel nice and full?” He traced his finger around it, and she froze, despite the aching throb that said yes.

He sucked on the sensitive point between her legs with increased fervor, running his tongue along her in a soft motion, soothing away the intensity.

Her whole body felt hot, like she was burning from the inside out. She didn’t want it to stop, and yet she didn’t know what would happen if they kept going.

“Lucien,” she started to warn him.

He squeezed her thighs possessively, moaning into her. “That’s it, Elain.” And he nibbled at her clit before laving at it with his wet tongue and her whole body began to shake with violent tremors. She’d never felt like this in her life, something strong and electric pushing with delicious pleasure through her whole body. Whatever had been building was overtaking her now, and it was all she could manage not to scream. Pleasure suffused her body like a golden light on this cold planet, bright and burning like the sun. She felt alive in a way she never had in all her life. Elain couldn’t move, suspended in that upright position as Lucien continued to lap at her until it ached. 

When she began to move her body away from him, he stood, towering over her once more, before thrusting his tongue against her mouth. She opened wide for him as he tilted her jaw up toward him, finding it unnatural to taste herself and yet not seeming to mind. 

Lucien grabbed at the ropes on her wrists, biting at them with his teeth and they came loose. She rubbed at the tender skin as he performed a similar motion at her ankles. Elain sagged against him, his large body holding up her own with ease. He held her for a moment, running soothing touches along her hair and back.

“We’re not done yet, my little mate.” She nestled further into him, humming in contentment. He lay her down against his jacket on the floor, his hand nestled under her head. Her whole body felt heavy, woozy and spent with pleasure.

It was Lucien’s finger again at her entrance that reawakened her, as he ran it along the wetness still pooling and dripping between her legs.

He moaned at whatever he found, running back and forth with his knuckles against her. “God, Elain, you’re so...” His words trailed off as he placed kisses along her thighs. “This might hurt at first.” 

She couldn’t imagine it doing anything but hurt, if he planned to push himself inside her. Still, the ecstacy of what she had experienced a moment ago left her mind hazy, everything touched by the velvet softness of pleasure that still ran through her.

“Tell me you can take it,” he pleaded with an urgency to his voice as he pressed himself, warm and unyielding, against her entrance. 

She considered telling him no, only so she could hear him desperate again as he begged her, as if he hadn’t just put his mouth all over her while she was tied to the wall.

His large body shook as he held it over her and she lifted her hips in invitation. She was already ruined, already destined to be banished to empty space, she might as well commit. Still, she flinched as he pushed the first inch inside of her, a sharp pain causing her to tense. He reached between them, touching her and rubbing in maddening circles as he continued to push. It felt like an invasion of her body, she was too full, he was too large, a giant by any human standards. And yet her body ceded the space. She could feel herself dripping against him, the glide of her wetness easing his way in deeper. When he pressed himself fully against her with a final snap of his hips, they both moaned.

This is what the humans had all but banned, what they feared. She ground her hips against him, experimentally. Yes, she could see why, she felt a bit mad already, the pain and pleasure pushing her closer to that edge again.

With a tender kiss that had no place in this coupling on the floor of a cave, Lucien began to move, still cupping her head as he thrust with more force. Each push awakened something in her. She felt alive, everything clicking into place with the pleasure of this moment. She felt powerful as she began to push back against him, matching his rhythm and drawing more growling sounds from him. 

“Yes, Lucien,” she chanted, holding onto his broad shoulders. 

She could feel the muscles moving with each shift of his body, everything working with all of his powerful control to give her this. She remembered she was meant to be repaying him for saving her life, but it didn’t feel like that at all. Elain kissed his cheeks and neck and anything she could reach as she moved with more urgency, wanting to please him, to hold up her end of a bargain. Her body was what he asked for, and she’d given over every inch of space, full with nothing but this man, a stranger to her in every way but this one.

He murmured her name in her ear over and over as he moved, as if learning and memorizing it for later. She hummed, repeating his own back to him. Yes, this was all they were in this moment, Lucien and Elain, two bodies met by chance on this barren planet. When pleasure began to crest in her again, he knew, covering her mouth with his own in a frantic wet kiss as they reached their peak together, all sweat and skin and one steady heartbeat.

Lucien continued to pant, licking and biting at her neck and shoulders and breasts as they both came back to their senses. She ran her hands through the long red locks of his hair, enjoying the way they slipped between her fingers. As the planet turned away from the sun, it had gotten darker, lit by a vast sea of stars against the inky black sky outside the cave.

Lucien moved off of her, resting his head on his elbow to look at her as he lay on his side. “Was that what you expected, little mate?” 

Elain huffed, frustrated suddenly at this male who felt all too proud of himself. “Not quite all they chalked it up to be when they talk of it at home.” She sighed for effect. “But I suppose these things are always exaggerated in fiction.”

He didn’t seem deterred, perhaps knowing that her body had already told him quite a different tale. Even now, she couldn’t keep herself from touching him in some way, her knee brushing against his thigh and her cheek leaning against his arm.

“I’ll do my best to surprise you when you come back to visit me, then.” He bit her neck as he said it, drawing another gasp from her.

“I’m going home,” she reminded him with a frown. It didn’t sound as appealing as it had before.

Lucien scowled then, wrapping the blanket around her as he scooped her up, cradling her in his arms. 

“Let’s get you back to my station, I’ll work on repairs.”

Lucien walked with broad strides throughout the planet, cradling her tenderly in his arms, though something had tensed in his body. He dipped his head as he stepped through another cave, this one furnished more like a home, with soft lights and furs covering various surfaces. He laid her down on a pillow pile, wrapping her up before stepping back out into the bluster, the incoherent chatter of foxes following behind him. 

Elain drifted into an easy sleep, despite her dire circumstances, humming with content.

[galacticlamps]

actually ascension needs its own post since that's the one with the most details to speculate over and im starved for soho talk so i will talk to myself if need be

First the cover again, because I kinda can't get over it:

my only thing is that I had been hoping we might get Lizbeth on a cover again since she's never been on one of the boxsets before, despite being the 2nd person credited on all 4 of them (even if that's just alphabetical, still, she's the only one of the four main characters who never makes the cover)

But letting that go...

I know we already kinda knew the brief for this one but damn I didn't expect it to go quite this hard. Maybe that's just because the Parasite & Ashenden covers were (comparatively) similarish to each other and I was so pleased with Unbegotten's, and then got so used to it as the placeholder for Ascension while they kept postponing it, I wasn't expecting anything this colorful or detailed or with what I can't help but register as Fun New Outfits even though these are still like, pretty damn basic as far as costumes go. Still, it's a different vibe from everyone in suits and trenchcoats on every cover, technically. (Oh the woes of being an audio fan such that two characters owning sweaters actually does qualify as new information)

On top of just being visually delightful though, I know we knew religion was gonna be a fairly big part of this one, but I didn't actually expect to get quite this much of it - though I'm glad of it for a number of reasons. The BF twitter already made the ineffable joke so I don't have to, but also yeah I did very much spend all of season 2 episode 4 of good omens half convinced Samuel Barnett & Dervla Kirwan were about to pop up around any given corner (if you will go around being gay supernatural and horrible at your messy bureaucratic jobs in midcentury soho then I'm sorry, this is where my brain's gonna go) - so, fuel to that fire. But in terms of actual important things, at least one of my Soho wishes looks to be being granted because we have a Rev Edward Folgate on the cast list, which must mean we're finally meeting Norton's father, even if his mother & brother don't appear (which they could, technically, I've definitely seen BF not list all the doublings on their cast tabs before). Religion, domesticity, and the nuclear family are all things that absolutely fascinate me when it comes to Norton's character, so getting any amount of story involving his father & his church is something I've been actively hoping for for a long time now.

(I will say I'm a tiny bit bummed Saffron Coomber isn't on the cast list to play Mia again, but I kinda figured she wasn't going to be since Greg Austin's Armitage, who's making his first recurring appearance after originating in Unbegotten, was listed ever since the boxset was announced - presumably if she was also returning, that would've been handled in the same way. But since Unbegotten ended with Lizbeth and Mia going on a date, I still held out hope. Who knows though, maybe things did go well for them and Lizbeth just has a better work/life balance than Norton so she can date someone without them getting dragged into every scifi plot. I know that's not a very common accomplishment for any Torchwood agent, but a gal can hope)

At this point I know I'm completely in the realm of speculation & even wishful thinking, but I'm really really hoping we get some more clues as to Norton's overall timeline in this one, and I have a feeling that even if there's nothing as direct as dates given, the events of a plot like this one are going to heavily influence my personal interpretation of it.

To say that life & death are major themes for the soho crew feels wildly reductive, but even by Torchwood's standards and taking into account its origins as a piece of media with Jack Harkness & his newfound immortality at the heart of it, the living/dead status of this bunch has always been fantastically up in the air to me. Obviously Ghost Mission introduced Norton as kind of a ghost before revealing more obvious ghostly characters later on to which the title might have been referring, but his being from the past did beg the question of his survival into Torchwood's present era all the same, which Outbreak later alludes to much more directly, and his habit of showing up via hologram in multiple stories only further obfuscates any certainty we might have about where & when he definitely can be said to be alive and well. Then you've got Lizbeth and Gideon both being effectively 'brought back to life' via paradoxes that prevented them ever having died in the first place. Again, they are very very far from being the only Torcwhood characters this happens to (for a sprawling EU, it's really rather impressive how often & in how many different ways Torchwood as a whole manages to circle back to being about like. chaotic undead queers at the end of every day. though I suppose that consistency is part of why I keep falling in love with its different iterations again and again). That's without even getting into the question of Norton's dubious fate in God Among Us - and I say dubious because I know some people take that to be his ultimate death, but I personally think that reading something as vague as that as having any kind of finality rather goes against the spirit of this whole world/series, not just because I want him to live. (There are obviously other ways to make him survive/reappear, but I don't see this as a River Song scenario where we can safely assume one of his earlier-released adventures had to happen at the end of his personal timeline). But wherever God Among Us falls for him, he does very much meet God in it - or at least, a god, since the sentinel in Unbegotten is also described as a god of sorts, and even if he doesn't ultimately have the status of the god Jacqueline King is playing there, Unbegotten is still full to bursting with ghosts/undead/came back wrong/echo characters to continue underscoring that life/afterlife theme.

So all things considered, even allowing for the fact that we know Norton's twin hobbies are lying about himself and abusing time travel to suit his own ends/ever-shifting alliances, I find it difficult to believe we could get through a whole 6-part boxset about religion & death without something providing some kind of compelling evidence about where this adventure fits in among his other run-ins with apocalypses and gods and ghosts and dead-but-still-here characters/creatures, so I'm very much looking forward to any further exploration on that front.

And lastly, and least intellectually, I really want to know what the hell 20th-century Torchwood's obsession with Reginalds is. Reading through the cast list, I had to do two separate doubletakes over the character 'Sir Reginald Peebles' - firstly, because I had Reginald Rigsby on the brain, this being Soho (and the other Troughton brother being so active on BF's releases for this same month) - and secondly, because reading this in conjunction with the announcement for the July monthly adventure in which the new main Torchwood guy of the 20s is apparently called Sir Reginald Dellafield, there was a brief moment where I took that monthly release to be a tie-in with Ascension. I don't expect it to be, but damn. was it really so popular a name?

anyways, catch me thinking about those stained glass windows for the next couple months I guess (and knowing Torchwood Soho, for a long long time after it comes out as well lol)

[deepestturtlepielover]

schrodinger's tea??? I also have ADHD so sometimes if I think hard enough about some thing, thenI think I’ve already done it if that makes sense 

ok so i do have adhd but i feel as though this somehow transcends it. I just made a cup of tea 10 minutes ago. Im in a very small room. It has disappeared. I didnt leave the room. It just escaped. It is gone. It never was. Wheres my tea. It couldnt have gone anywhere and yet it has. Did i drink it and eat the cup and forget? Where is my tea. I miss her. This is fucked

[readsaboutreid]

Cast Your Bets | S.R.

summary: (Y/N) has been at the BAU for two months now and the tension between her and Spencer has been noticeable to everyone but them. The team takes bets on when they'll finally snap but (Y/N) and Spencer over hear them and some smutty shenanigans ensue.

This is smut so it's 18+, minors please dni.

spencer x bau!reader

contains: unprotected sex, creampie, masturbation (m), fingering (f receiving), non-established relationship

this has been sitting in my drafts for few months so i figured i'd finally let it see the light of day

The team were all sat on the jet after a long case, everyone off in their own little worlds. Morgan had his headphones on and had nodded off, JJ and Prentiss were playing cards, and Hotchner and Rossi were talking about the case they had just finished in hushed tones. Spencer had run out of reading material so he was just kind of sitting and staring off into space. His eyes fell to (Y/N), her brows furrowed in concentration as she read what looked to be a well-worn book, and he couldn't help the way his heart fluttered in his chest.

Ever since she had started at the BAU, Spencer had been hopelessly infatuated with her. She was intelligent, sweet, and most surprisingly she seemed to enjoy when Spencer would go off rambling about something that would usually leave Morgan rolling his eyes or Prentiss poking him and asking, "how did they make you so lifelike?" But when he was talking with (Y/N) and he would start off on a subject, she would just tilt her head and listen with a soft smile, occasionally chiming in with a question or comment, making it more than clear she was listening to every word.

She locked eyes with him and flashed him the sweetest smile and he felt his cheeks burn with a sudden heat. "Something interesting, Reid?" She chuckled, closing the book she had been reading and setting it on her lap as she turned to face him.

"I—I was just trying to see what you're reading," he lied, unconvincingly. He swallowed nervously and a small smile twitched at his lips at seeing her smile grow even wider before he looked down at his hands resting in his lap.

She held the book up for him to see the cover. Dune.

"Dune? That's one of my favorites!" He exclaimed with a wide smile.

"When I was a little girl this was one of my favorites. My dad would read it to me before bedtime," she explained before opening it back up to begin reading again. "I read it once a year the month of his birthday."

Spencer felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of confidence and decided to take advantage of it. "Hey, uh, I finished the only book I had brought with me earlier, do you mind if I read along with you, maybe? I could just read over your shoulder or something." He bit his lip as he waited for her to shoot him down, the confidence he felt already fading away rapidly.

"Oh! I, uh, o-okay," she responded while her eyes widened a little bit in response to the request. She moved closer to him on the bench they were both seated on. He adjusted the way he was sitting so that she could lean up against him and he found himself silently hoping she couldn't hear how fast and hard his heart was beating against his chest. She opened the book, holding it up high enough for Spencer to be able to read as well and they began reading. Spencer stole the occasional glance at her, the butterflies in his stomach flying around more frantically each time he did so.

His body was in overdrive and he did everything in his power to maintain his composure. He could smell the scent of eucalyptus and lavender on her hair as she leaned up against him and he started thinking about how nice it would be to be able to run his fingers through it while her lips were wrapped around his—

Spencer shook his head, dispelling the thoughts before they had a chance to take root. He cleared his throat and crossed his legs to cover up the fact that he was becoming rather noticeably hard. (Y/N) shifted a bit, leaning further into Spencer's chest and resting her head there gently. His breath hitched in his throat before he relaxed into her, resting his arm around her shoulders and his cheek against the top of her head.

They continued reading until Spencer noticed that she hadn't turned the page in quite a while. When he looked down at her he noticed that she was sleeping quite soundly against him. He tried his best to maneuver without waking her, placing her bookmark in between the pages and closing the book. There was no way Spencer himself would be able to get any sleep right now, but Spencer tried to relax enough to at least be a comfortable human pillow. Wrapping his other arm around her, he eventually found himself getting lost in the scent of her shampoo yet again as his eyes grew heavy.

Next thing he knew, he was waking up to Morgan lightly shaking his shoulder. "Come on lover boy! It's time to wake up. We're about to land," he said in a voice loud enough to also rouse the still-sleeping (Y/N).

She shot up suddenly, her face turning a deep shade of crimson as she stammered out a flustered apology and swiftly rushed off to the bathroom, leaving Spencer to glare daggers at Derek from his seat on the now otherwise empty bench.

Later that night, Spencer found himself at home, sprawled on the couch with the familiar blue glow of the television screen illuminating the room. The soft hum of the TARDIS filled the air as he half-heartedly tried to focus on the episode of Doctor Who playing before him. But try as he might, his mind kept drifting back to (Y/N).

Her scent still lingered on his clothes, a sweet and intoxicating blend that teased his senses. Images of her leaning against him, of her hair brushing against his skin, invaded his thoughts. His body reacted to these memories, stirring with a desire that he couldn't ignore.

As the scene on the TV faded into the background, Spencer's hand began to stray lower, fingers tracing the outline of his growing arousal through his pants. He closed his eyes, letting himself fully indulge in the fantasy of (Y/N) that had taken hold of his mind.

Her soft lips against his skin, his hands exploring her body with a gentle curiosity...

Spencer reached his hand into his pajama pants, pulling out his throbbing member and wrapping his fingers around himself, slowly beginning to stroke up and down. His breathing grew shallow as his hand moved more purposefully, seeking release from the building tension within him. Lost in a haze of desire and yearning, Spencer's thoughts were consumed by the memory of her touch, her scent, her warmth as she leaned up against him. With a quiet gasp, he abandoned himself to the fantasy, his movements growing urgent as he chased the climax that beckoned to him.

The fantasies of (Y/N) moaning and writhing beneath him in pleasure became more vivid, more alluring, fueling the fire that consumed him. Every fleeting touch, every whispered word in his mind pushed him closer to the edge until finally, with a shuddering breath and a silent cry of her name on his lips, Spencer found release in the solitude of his living room. The waves of pleasure washed over him, leaving him spent and breathless, his heart pounding in his chest.

As reality slowly seeped back in, Spencer lay there in the dim glow of the TV screen, a flush of both satisfaction and guilt coloring his cheeks. He wondered how he would ever be able to look (Y/N) in the eye again, but at the same time he couldn't help but long to see her still.

With a deep sigh, Spencer finally shut off the TV, cleaned himself up, and headed to bed, his mind filled with a mixture of longing and remorse.

The atmosphere in the bullpen was buzzing with it's usual energy. Spencer and (Y/N) were hunched over their desks, papers scattered everywhere as they focused intently on their work.

Meanwhile, across the room, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, and JJ were observing the pair with playful banter and knowing looks. Their whispers floated through the air like mischievous spirits.

"Hey, JJ, how long do you think it'll be until these two finally give in to their sexual tension?" Derek asked with a cocky smirk.

JJ shrugged. "I'll give it two weeks."

Derek scoffed in response and said, "I say a week tops."

Penelope interjected, "oh please! I give it three days."

"You're all ridiculous" Emily shook her head and laughed, "I bet it'll take 24 hours, tops."

Spencer could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he overheard the playful bets being made about him and (Y/N). His heart raced at the mere thought of what could transpire between them, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within him like a storm.

As they both reached for the same file folder, their fingers brushed against each other's in a fleeting moment that sent a jolt of electricity through Spencer. His hand trembled slightly at the contact, his skin tingling with a sensation he couldn't quite describe. But he couldn't deny the rush of warmth that flooded his veins at the simple touch.

(Y/N) quickly withdrew her hand, her eyes widening in surprise as she glanced up at Spencer. Her cheeks were painted with a delicate pink blush that mirrored Spencer's own, a silent acknowledgment passing between them in that moment.

Emily raised an eyebrow as they all observed the exchange between Spencer and (Y/N). "I told you all—24 hours, no more, no less.”

Agent Hotchner's lowered voice came from behind the group, startling everyone at the table. "Less than 12 hours," he stated calmly, his eyes piercing as they turned towards Spencer and (Y/N). The sudden silence that followed his words was almost palpable, the tension thick in the air as his prediction hung over them like a heavy cloud.

As the others in the room exchanged surprised glances, Derek let out a low whistle. "Hotch, you sure about that?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

Hotch simply nodded, his expression unreadable as he turned away and walked out of the bullpen, leaving the rest of the table floored as they looked back at Spencer and (Y/N).

The gentle hum of the bullpen around them seemed to fade away as Spencer found himself lost in a daydream, imagining a world where he and (Y/N) were more than just colleagues. His heart quickened at the thought of what could be, but just as quickly, the shadow of doubt crept in.

What if she didn't feel the same way? What if their friendship was forever altered by a moment of vulnerability and desire? Spencer's mind swirled with conflicting emotions—longing mingled with fear, desire intertwined with doubt.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice (Y/N) shooting him a quick smile before returning to her work. The warmth of that smile lingered in the air around Spencer, filling him with a sense of hope and a tinge of uncertainty. Was it just a friendly gesture, or did it hold a deeper meaning that he desperately wanted to believe in?

As the day drew to a close and everyone began packing up, Spencer finally spoke up. "Hey, (Y/N)," Spencer nervously fiddled with the strap of his bag, "would, uh, w-would you want to come over and watch Star Trek tonight? We could get some takeout, you know, like we always do the weekend after a case?" She looked up at him with a warm smile that made the butterflies in his stomach flare up and nodded happily.

As they walked out of the office together, Spencer couldn't help the sweat that began coating his palms in a thin layer. He gripped the leather strap of his bag and fiddled with it to give his hands something to do. The elevator took them down to the parking garage and they approached her car. Spencer rushed to open the driver's side door for her, drawing a soft, melodious giggle from her lips that made him go weak at the knees.

He made his way to the passenger side and slipped into the seat, buckling the seatbelt and swallowing the lump in his throat. She pulled out of the parking space and they began the short journey to his apartment. On her car radio a CD started playing, and a man with a soft and pleasant voice was singing to them about a woman with a green plastic watering can and a fake Chinese rubber plant. (Y/N) hummed along to the song and Spencer looked at her from the passenger seat, and as he did so his mind ventured back to the conversation he over heard between their colleagues earlier today.

"Spencer? Why are you staring at me?" She asked with a small smile, snapping him out of his thoughts and back into reality. His cheeks burned as he silently berated himself, not realizing how long he had been looking over at her. A whole new song was playing on the radio now, the same man now singing about how he used to fly like Peter Pan.

"S-sorry, I, uh, I just, uh—hey, wh-what did you wanna order tonight?" He clumsily attempted to change the subject, looking down at his hands as he wrung them together in his lap.

"Oooh!" (Y/N) exclaimed, always excited to talk about food. "There's a new pizza place across the street from your building that I noticed the last time I came over, what if we ordered from them?"

Spencer closed his eyes and exhaled shakily, relief washing over him. "That sounds like a fantastic idea," he smiled and shot another glance her way, this time immediately looking back at his hands.

(Y/N) parked the car on the curb in front of Spencer's building and turned off the engine. They stepped out into the cool evening air and walked across the street, entering the pizza shop. The inside of the shop was small, just a handful of tables. The walls were painted a pale shade of yellow and plastered with vintage Italian film posters. The air smelled of tomato sauce and pesto, and as they approached the counter a middle aged woman with a red apron over her blue dress pushed through the door in the wall behind it, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Welcome! Table for two?" She asked, looking between (Y/N) and Spencer.

"Can we actually just order something for takeout?" Spencer asked, looking at the menu above her head.

"Of course! What can I get for the handsome couple?" She smiled, her brown eyes crinkling on the side.

Spencer blinked. "Oh, uh, w-we, uh, we're not—," Spencer stammered, his eyes widening as his cheeks flushed. "Um, can we get a, uh, a large pepperoni pizza?" He shifted gears, remembering her once mentioning to Garcia that pepperoni was her favorite pizza topping.

"Did you want a two liter bottle of cola? It would only be an extra $1.25," the lady chuckled, entering everything into the register.

"S-sure," he responded, pulling out his wallet.

"Alrighty! That will be $9.25," Spencer handed over a $20 and the lady opened the register drawer and handed him his change. "Please, feel free to have a seat while the two of you wait." She gestured over at the tables, which were all empty save for one, which was occupied by a single woman with a large slice of pizza on her table doing a crossword puzzle, before walking back through the door behind her.

"After you," he turned to (Y/N), following her to a table by the window. He pulled the chair out for her, earning another one of her beautiful giggles that made his legs go wobbly.

"Always such a gentleman," she smiled up at him as he made his way to the other side of the table and sat down. They waited for around 10 minutes and chatted about random topics, flowing from one to the next. The same lady from before approached the table with a white pizza box and plastic bag with the large bottle of soda and little packets of crushed red peppers and parmesan.

"Here you go, one large pepperoni pizza!" She placed the box and the bag on the table and wished them a good evening before heading back through the same door behind the counter.

The pair headed out of the shop and crossed the street, entering the door to Spencer's apartment building. Spencer carried the pizza box and soda while trailing behind (Y/N), struggling to keep his gaze off of her behind as he followed her up the stairs. As they approached his door, he fumbled trying to get his keys out of his pocket and ended up dropping them on the ground.

(Y/N) immediately reacted, bending down to grab the keys as soon as they hit the ground with a good natured laugh. "Need some help, Spencer?" She teased while grinning up at him.

"Yes, please," he laughed in return, shooting her a sheepish grin of his own. She unlocked the door to his apartment and opened the door, allowing him to slip in first and place the pizza and soda down on his small table. She followed and closed the door behind her.

"So I know I had agreed to come over to watch Star Trek, but what would you say to watching a little Doctor who?" She turned to him, a hopeful glint in her eyes. "It's been a while since I've sat down and watched that and I kind of miss it."

"We can watch anything you'd like!" Spencer responded while heading to the kitchen to grab a couple of plates and glasses. He brought them back out and offered one of each to (Y/N). They each helped themselves to a slice of pizza and poured their drinks before heading over to his couch. He grabbed the remote and put on Doctor Who.

They ate their pizza and watched Doctor Who on his couch, each of them getting up for another slice at least once. Spencer stole the occasional glance at her as they ate and watched, and once they both finished he took their plates to the sink and washed them off before quickly returning. As he sat back down, (Y/N) scooted closer to him slowly before gently leaning up against him and softly asking, "i-is this okay?"

Spencer's breath hitched in his throat as he managed to croak out a quiet, "y-yeah, it's okay." He lifted his arm and tentatively placed it around her shoulders while she moved in closer, leaning into his chest and resting her head against it like she had on the plane as they read together. This time he was sure she had to hear the way his heart was racing, but fortunately she said nothing. They continued to watch in silence as the tension between the two of them grew nearly palpable.

Eventually, once Spencer found himself wondering if she had yet again fallen asleep, (Y/N) broke the silence with a question. "So did you hear the team talking about us earlier today?"

"No, uh, wh-what were they, um, talking about?" He lied, doing his best to maintain his composure.

"You are a very bad liar, Spencer," she chuckled, making his cheeks flush bright red as she sat up.

"Sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes before looking up at her. "Y-yeah, I overheard them. I'm sorry about them, I can try to talk to them about it and ask them to stop—"

"No, it's not that! It was actually fairly funny," she chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "But to be honest I'm kind of offended that they thought it would take me that long to seduce you." She joked, nudging Spencer in the ribs. "I mean, Emily said 'no more or less than 24 hours' but I'm fairly certain that if I really tried, and I mean really put my heart into it, I could get you into bed with me tonight." She laughed again but there was a hint of nervousness in it this time, shooting a look at him from where she sat as a faint pink blush began to spread over her cheeks. Apparently she hadn't heard Hotch's bet, but Spencer wasn't focusing on that. He was too busy focusing on the fact that he was sitting here listening to her speculate how long it would take for her to seduce him as if she hadn't been plaguing his dreams and fantasies since they met.

"Good point," he breathed to himself, hoping it was quiet enough that she wouldn't be able to hear over the TV. Unfortunately for him, he thought wrong. He yelped in surprise as she lunged over his lap, grabbed the remote, and hit the mute button, making the TV go silent.

"Oh, really?" She shot him a smile that was an equal mix of surprised and some other emotion Spencer hadn't seen on her face before. "So tell me, Spencer, what might I need to do to convince you to sleep with me?" Her voice was sultry and soft as she bit her lip and looked up at him, her face closer to his than it had been before.

"I-I, uh," Spencer cleared his throat and swallowed, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He had two options: try to lie his way out of this or just tell her how badly he'd like nothing more than to lay her down and take her right there on the couch. His palms grew slick again but he took a deep breath. He had already been called out for his poor lying skills once this evening, so there was no point in attempting the first option. Instead he simply opted to tell her the truth.

"Y-you wouldn't have to do anything more than just ask and I'd say yes." His voice was barely above a whisper and he finally looked up to meet her eyes before he added, "in a heartbeat."

Before he could fully register what was happening she had leaned in and pressed her lips to his softly. His eyes slowly closed as he kissed her back, shifting to turn so he was facing towards her with more of his body. His hands slid to her waist, wrapping around her and pulling her into him.

When they pulled away from each other he reached his hand up to cup her cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. He opened his eyes to find her already looking at him before she softly said, "Spencer, would you like to—"

"Yes," he exhaled with a fervent nod, grabbing her face with his other hand and crashing his lips back against hers, her lips parting to allow his tongue into her mouth. She threw her arms around his neck and laid back, pulling Spencer down with her. They shifted their legs until Spencer's hips rested between her thighs, his cock stiffening rapidly in his pants.

Her hands tangled into his hair and he began gently grinding his hips against her. They both moaned into each other's mouths at the sensation and Spencer's movements became more insistent and needy. When they finally broke apart to catch their breath, her cheeks were flushed and her pupils were dilated. Spencer brushed some of her hair out of her face before he pressed his lips to her cheek, then began trailing kisses from her cheek to her chin, then to her neck. She moved her hands to the collar of her shirt and began undoing the buttons while Spencer rose up to remove his own layers.

Once he had removed his shirt he looked back down at her and the sight awaiting him stole the breath right from his lungs. She had removed her shirt and her bra in the time it took him to get his jacket, vest, and shirt off and her entire torso was on display to him. He brought a hand up to one of her breasts and cupped it in his hand, brushing his thumb over the nipple. He leaned back over her and began kissing her neck again, teasing and tormenting her nipple before moving his mouth to take over, his fingers going to the other one to tease while he suckled and ran his tongue over the first one.

Everything else faded into the background when he heard her moan at sensations, including the throbbing and aching need in his pants. All that he could focus on was drawing more of those sounds form her mouth. He let his teeth graze against her nipple and she gasped, tangling her fingers back into his hair. He let his teeth press gently onto the hardened nub again and the moan she released in response was beautiful enough for him to think that maybe he had died and gone to heaven.

He eventually moved his hand from her other nipple, switching it out for his mouth and giving the first one a break. He let his hand trail down her abdomen, stopping as he reached the waistline of her skirt. He looked up at her from her chest as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and began to gently tug. She lifted her hips and used her hands to push her skirt and panties down before Spencer slowly pushed her thighs back open.

His fingers slid up her inner thigh until he reached her dripping center. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt just how ready she was for him. She whimpered beneath him and he felt his cock twitch at the sound as he moaned against her nipple. He gently ran a fingertip from her entrance to her clit, circling around it slowly before running his finger back down the other way. He repeated the action a few times. As he continued he started slipping the tip of his finger into the entrance of her pussy before swiping up to the clit, and with each repetition his finger slipped deeper and deeper into her.

His head became hazy with lust as he kept going until his finger was fully embedded into her. When he slipped it out this time instead of swiping it up to her clit he instead added a second finger, slowly pushing them both into her and pulling them back out. She arched her back up into his mouth, still tormenting her nipple. He switched back to the neglected one, feeling her chest heave against his mouth. Her fingers were back in his hair and tugging gently, and his cock twitched again at the feeling. He moaned loudly against her chest, and she pulled his hair again in response. He tugged at her nipple with his teeth lightly and she gasped, clenching around his fingers.

He sped up his pace, chuckling against her as the way she stifled a scream. "S-Spencer I'm gonna—oh fuck yes I'm coming!" She cried. Spencer pulled back to see her eyes flutter back into her head and her face twist in pleasure. Her face, neck, and chest were flushed scarlet and he felt as her pussy pulsed around his fingers. The sounds that fell from her lips were more beautiful than anything he'd ever heard. He slowed his fingers down, gently coaxing her through her orgasm.

(Y/N) tugged his hair, pulling him up to crash her lips against his. She then moved those hands to his belt, deftly undoing his belt buckle and fly. Spencer removed his belt and then pushed his pants and briefs to his ankles before kicking them off. (Y/N) reached a hand out and ran her fingers over his cock, her thumb swiping across the tip as it throbbed.

He was aching and leaking into her hand, his hips bucking into her touch while she stroked once, twice, a third time, before guiding the tip between her thighs and pressing him against her entrance. He pushed in immediately, moaning at the heat that enveloped him, and stilled once he was fully sheathed inside of her. He panted heavily as he remained still inside of her, listening to the way she whimpered beneath him.

"S-so good," he whispered, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to keep himself from finishing immediately.

"Yeah? It feels good?" She asked breathlessly.

"Yes!" He moaned. "You feel s-so good." His entire body tensed and his arms trembled under his weight when he felt her begin to writhe beneath him, trying to get some sort of friction between her legs. He took deep breaths before he pulled his hips back and pushed them back forward, earning enthusiastic moans from (Y/N)'s lips as her back arched up off of the bed, her chest pressing into his. He dragged himself back out, then back in, and kept this up until their hips had fallen into rhythm together. Every sound that fell from her lips was more beautiful than the last as Spencer rammed into her and the slap of skin on skin was mixed in with their moans.

"Sp-Spencer—" a moan cut her off, followed by his lips finding hers and swallowing the moan. His hips sped up and he felt her nails dig into his shoulders.

"I—oh my god—(Y/N), I think I'm about to come!" He cried out. He tipped his head back and a desperate whine ripped it's way from his throat as he felt himself growing closer and closer with each disjointed thrust into her and each moan from her lips. "Wh-where do you want—oh god—where should I—"

"Give it to me, please!" She mewled underneath him. "Please, please fill me up Spencer, please I need—" he finished before she could even finish her pleas, moaning loudly as he tensed and spilled every drop into her. He could feel her clench down onto him, could hear her cry out in pleasure and felt her fingernails digging into his shoulders hard enough that he suspected she may have drawn blood, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that through the pleasure coursing through every cell in his body.

By the time he came back down, he could barely hold himself up on his arms with how hard they were trembling. He opened his eyes and was blown away by the sight beneath him. Her hair was tousled and her face and chest were flushed, the latter heaving with her own gasps for air. Spencer leaned in to give her lips a soft kiss before pulling himself out of her. When he looked down in between their legs and saw his seed dripping out of her, his head spun with lust. He was snapped out of it by the sound of a cell phone ringing, and he reached for the source of the sound to determine which of them needed to answer.

When he located the phone beneath his own pants he answered figuring it to be his own phone ringing. "Hello?" He was still breathlessly panting as he looked at (Y/N), her eyes dancing with humor at his tone.

"Reid, is that you?" Garcia's voice came through the phone.

"Yeah, who else would it be?" He asked, gaining back a bit of control over his breathing.

"Well, given that I dialed (Y/N)'s number, perhaps her?" She laughed a little bit. "What are you doing answering (Y/N)'s phone sounding like you just finished a marathon?" She asked, her voice growing more and more excited with each word.

"I—uh, um—(Y-Y/N)'s phone?" He stammered, sitting up quickly at the words as he turned his gaze to (Y/N), who was cleaning herself up next to him with some tissues she had grabbed from his side table. Her eyes widened as she heard those two words come from his mouth and her hand shot to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter. "I. uh, I guess I must have grabbed hers by mistake after we ate lunch together at her desk."

"Spencer Reid you really are the world's worst liar!" Garcia laughed from the other end as Spencer felt his entire face burn with embarrassment at being called out on his poor lying skills twice in one evening.

"I-it's for you," he mumbled while he handed her the phone. After he had cleaned himself up, he put his pants and shirt back on while he let (Y/N) focus on her conversation with Garcia, which she managed to continue while getting dressed. Once she had hung up the phone she pressed her fingers to her temples and rubbed slowly while laughing.

"Well, now that Penelope knows so will everyone on the team," she let out a sigh but then smiled at Spencer so sweetly he couldn't help but scoot closer and wrap his arms around her again. They sat like that for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's presence in front of the still muted television.

"Hey, Spencer?" She spoke up eventually.

"Yeah?" He muttered back sleepily while he absent-mindedly played with her hair.

"I'm going to go grab another slice of pizza, want me to bring you one, too?"

[kitten4sannie]

for love of the game

pairing: pitcher! wooyoung x batter! reader (fem) x teammate! yunho

genres: college baseball au, enemies to fuckbuddies, best friends to fuckbuddies, smut

summary: jung wooyoung, a pitcher with a fearsome curveball, and your self-proclaimed enemy since the beginning of the playoffs, is beyond determined to show you that he is in fact, on top. Yunho, your close friend and reliable teammate, will do everything in his power to watch it all go down.

w.c: 5k (2k words of plot bc i can ✨ the rest is filth tho i promise <3)

warnings: tobacco/vape usage, nasty mean dom! wooyo, perverted subby puppyboy! yuyu, bratty bitch in the streets, subby slut in the sheets! reader, yuyu has a horsecock, implied brat taming, brief choking, mxm, one single slap and spank, cuckholding, pet names/name calling, praise/degradation, humiliation kink, dirty talk, exhibitionism/voyeurism, brief breath play, oral (giving/receiving), masturbation, yuyu sucks cock, thigh fucking, cum eating, deep-throating, spit kink, hair tugging, breeding kink (would it be a kitten4sannie fic without it? idt so 💅🏼), unprotected sex, creampies, dumbification

a/n: hey batter, batter~~ ughhh i’ve been itching to write this ever since they went to their first dodger game 🥺 i had an unusual amount of fun writing this as you’ll be able to tell eeheheheh (≧∀≦) anygaysss i hope you enjoy this hater x hater x nasty bsf fantasy ✨

song recs: siren by ateez - new girl by finneas - knock me out by miyavi - heaven and back by chase atlantic

“You ready for today’s game, Y/N?” Yunho, your teammate and closest personal friend outside of baseball, asked you inquisitively, one of his large hands rubbing into the tense muscle of your shoulder, using the other to send a tactical text message to someone. 

When you weren’t training, working out, or competing in your college team’s playoff games, you were hanging out in Yunho’s frat house, watching him get his ass handed to him in League. You both had a simple, easy going relationship, one that consisted of chill kickbacks and drunken shenanigans, with the occasional exchange of longing glances, lingering touches, and perhaps an adrenaline induced fuck or two, or three before and after one of your games — but who were you to decipher what your relationship status was? You had your future career to focus on. 

“Am I ready? Yun, I came out the pussy ready for this fucking game,” you replied vulgarly, bringing your water bottle up to your lips to take a few sips, smiling crookedly up at your tall friend over the shoulder he was keenly massaging. 

“That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Yunho chimed proudly, shoving his phone into his back pocket so that he could use both of his hands on your shoulders, doing his best to loosen up your muscles with his long, slender fingers.

“I’m not your baby, but maybe I would be if you stopped solo-queuing as Braum every time you hop on League.” You couldn’t help but let out a few groans from the pressure he was using on you, hoping that his massage would aid you in the powerful swings you would have to make during the next seven innings. “I’m tired of watching you get ass fucked every round.” 

“You wanna go for a few rounds next time then? I wouldn’t mind watching you get wrecked,” Yunho mumbled into your ear, glancing across the dugout at the other team, before he let go of you and sat down next to his rowdy teammates, joining in on the competition to see whose thighs could take up the most space on the crowded bench. 

“Yeah, I bet, you degenerate. Oh, you know what else you can watch?” you retorted, pretending to reach into one of your pockets and pulling out nothing, simply holding your middle finger up to Yunho. Your best friend quickly mirrored your unique display of affection, leading the both of you to giggle and smile at each other for a little too long, before you decided to sit down as well and conserve your energy. 

During the typical pre-game announcements, you found yourself not being able to get comfortable like you usually could. It was off-putting, to say the least. There was nothing unusual going on. The sky was nice and clear, the wind blew a cool breeze across the exposed skin of your neck, right in between your pulled-up hair and the collar of your softball uniform. Your teammates were all stretching their limbs, shooting the shit, eagerly chewing nicotine gum, or spitting out tobacco juice into empty water bottles. All was right in the world, yet you couldn’t seem to stop bouncing your thigh, your cleats repeatedly digging deeper marks into the dirt below. That was when you felt the intensity of someone’s eyes boring into you. 

“Yo, baby, you got some chew on you?” someone with an irritatingly smug, yet distinctly familiar voice asked you from the other side of the snug dugout.

You immediately stood up from your seat, turning your head in the direction of the voice, just in time for you to come face to face with the Devil himself. 

Jung Wooyoung, a pitcher with a fearsome curveball, and your self-proclaimed enemy since the beginning of the playoffs, was casually leaning down against the small metal fence that separated your teams, looking up at you through the yellow lenses of his sunglasses. 

“Do I look like the type to put that nasty shit in my mouth?” you immediately snapped, taking a few steps in his direction, not realizing how hard you were squeezing your plastic water bottle until it began to audibly crunch inside your tight grasp. “Huh?” 

Wooyoung licked at the mole on his chapped bottom lip, his canines becoming visible when he smiled cockily at you. He missed his favorite plaything. You were so easy to rile up. It made his already tight pinstripe pants even tighter. “Mm, but you’ve put nastier things in your mouth, haven’t you, baby?”

Scoffing, you placed your hands on your soft hips, shaking your head, pretending his perverse words didn’t make your cheeks feel like they were already sunburnt, wanting to put up more of a front, now that your entire team was possibly listening in. “You would know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you, Wooyoung? The handjobs you give your team aren’t doing enough for you these days, huh?” 

Wooyoung did his best to ignore the snickers and whispers of your team, taking his cap off to run his fingers through his silky raven hair, biting the corner of his lip all the while. “People talk in the locker rooms, you know. They say you really know your way around a cock. Probably from all that practice you get with your teammates, yeah?” He looked over to Yunho, who sheepishly smiled at him. “You can vouch for me, can’t you, Yun?” The batter remained quiet out of fear of your wrath.

Wooyoung was about to say more, when his vision was suddenly blurred by something cold. You had offered him mercy, dumping the rest of your water on the pitcher’s head, rather than shoving the entire bottle up his ass like you desperately wanted to. Instead of blowing up on you and embarrassing himself like you had hoped he would, Wooyoung simply flipped his hair back and put his cap back on, resulting in a few squeals from some nearby fangirls that were sitting in the stands. “If getting me hard was the goal, you succeeded, Y/N.” 

You grimaced. “You’re fucking disgusting, Wooyoung.” 

Wooyoung reached over the fence to push a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. “But, you love it, don’t you? That’s why you’re so obsessed with me.” 

“You should be obsessed with me. Maybe if you paid attention, you could figure out how to pitch a ball that I won’t knock out of the goddamn stadium.” 

You irked Wooyoung to no end, your equally quick-witted jabs getting underneath the pitcher’s tan skin. However, he wouldn’t let you have the satisfaction of seeing that, unless hell itself froze over. “And if you paid attention, maybe your team would actually make it past the playoffs.” 

That was when a vein visibly began to bulge out of your temple, your jaw tensing. Wooyoung had struck a nerve. You knew it, he knew it, and your team definitely knew it. You’d give anything to make it to the championship game, but it was always just barely out of reach. The fact that Wooyoung would stoop so incredibly low had your blood boiling. You wanted nothing more than to grab the smug pitcher by his collar and spit directly in his face, but you were afraid that he would enjoy that more than you would have. So, instead you simply accepted defeat in that moment and sat back down on the bench, staring ahead at the expansive baseball field.  

You were too caught up in your own furious thoughts to notice that Yunho had left the spot he had taken up on the bench, instead leaning on the same fence Wooyoung had been chilling on just moments ago. 

“Your girl’s feisty, Yun. I fucking love it. She seems like she bites. Does she bite?” Wooyoung prodded the taller man, just as he pulled a vape out of his pocket and took a long hit, causally blowing out the smoke into Yunho’s face. 

Yunho waved the vapor away, shaking his head slightly. “She’s not mine, but yeah, she bites. She…does a lot of things.” 

Wooyoung hummed in response, smiling like he knew something no one else did, his eyes shifting from the crowd, to his teammates who smiled back at him, then back up at Yunho. “She’s not yours, but she lets you hit, doesn’t she?” 

“She does…She’s just very...rough.” Yunho bit his lip, thinking about how ferociously you would ride his cock in the empty locker rooms after the games you would ultimately lose, remembering all the love bites and scratches you littered his broad body in, knowing you wouldn’t let him go until you left his cock raw and so sensitive he was ready to cry. He was more of a softie himself, a good boy, if you will, not exactly cut out for the animalistic sex you required after such a brutal loss. Wooyoung, however, seemed more fit for that. In fact, Yunho felt his throat go dry just imagining the two of you going at it in such a way, especially in front of him. That was allowed, right? 

“Yunho.” Wooyoung took another long puff from his vape, using his free hand to take his glasses off and placing them over the brim of his baseball cap.

“Yeah?” 

Wooyoung reached up to place his hand on Yunho’s tense shoulder, massaging his digits into it to loosen up the muscle. “I got a proposition for you. If your team wins today, you get to fuck a happy, calm Y/N. She’ll probably even blow you without expecting anything back. Who knows, she might even swallow.” 

Yunho unconsciously licked his lips, glancing back over the shoulder Wooyoung was massaging into to admire your pretty face, even if it was contorted with rage-filled determination. He slowly looked back down at the pitcher. “And, if your team wins?” 

Wooyoung grinned deviously, licking at one of his sharp canines. “I get to put that pretty slut in her place.” 

-

The first locker in your sight was the main recipient of your bubbling anger, the side of your bat making contact with the metal, incidentally leaving an indent. “Motherfucker!” you shouted to no one inside the empty women’s locker room, tossing the bat down the long hallway, not bothering to watch it roll along the ground until it was stopped by someone’s dusty cleat. 

You threw your baseball cap into your crowded locker along with your balled up, button-up shirt once you pulled it off of your torso. You then pressed your hands into the cool metal, staring at your angry, sweaty reflection in the locker door mirror, huffing and puffing. “How could you strike out to a bitch like him? Do better,” you told yourself, your hands forming fists. 

Wooyoung cleared his throat, making his presence known, taking slow steps down the hallway with his hands in his pockets, happily chewing on a piece of gum. “I knew you were a sore loser, but I didn’t know it was this bad.” 

“Are you lost, Wooyoung? This is the women’s locker room, and last time I checked you don’t have a pussy,” you spat in his direction, reaching down to unbutton your pants. 

“You wanna check for me, baby? I might not be hung like Yunho, but I’ll still be able to pump you full of cum. A slutty little cleat chaser like you would love that, huh?” Wooyoung mused vulgarly, leaning against the lockers, lowering his tinted glasses to leer at your half-naked body. 

You didn’t look at Wooyoung for too long, knowing you might kill him, or fuck him raw, if you did, now that jealousy-fueled rage was flowing through your veins. 

A shower would probably help cool you down. Help you think straight. On the other hand, a nice, thick cock drilling into you wouldn’t solve all your problems, but it sure would help, even if it was your sworn enemy who was servicing you. Instead of replying, you simply shimmied out of your tight, dust-covered pants and stepped out of them, bringing a foot up onto the bench to stretch out your sore, bruise-ridden legs, deeply annoyed that you slid to so many bases just to lose anyway.

Wooyoung’s throat ran dry, his gaze suddenly fixated on the g-string that formed to the curves of your hips, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down upon the sight of the thin string tightly cupping your cunt as you bent down to massage your fingers into your thighs and calves. “Fuck, is that a thong? You usually don’t wear anything…” 

“What does it look like, dumbass?” you snapped, before turning on your heels in the opposite direction, looking back at him over your shoulder. Chuckling softly at the tent that formed inside his pants, you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it drop to the floor, prior to heading into the open shower room, very aware of the fact that Wooyoung was following close behind you like a eager, drooling puppy, smirking at the sounds of shuffling and grunting, the pitcher’s clothes hitting the tile floor on the way. Wooyoung talked a big game, but at the end of the day, he was just a man, and you took pride in knowing you had that power over him, even if you didn’t have it on the field. 

“Hey, does having something rubbing against your pussy help you play better, Y/N? Or do you just like getting wet in front of all those men like the whore you are?” Wooyoung asked near your ear, watching you turn the shower handle to the right until a steady stream of warm water began to pour onto the both of you, waiting for you to turn around so that he could slip his twitching fingers under the thong straps that clung to your hips and pulled them up just to watch your pussy lips slip out past the thin material, making the pitcher groan. 

“Did you come here just to slut shame me, Wooyoung?” You pressed your back into the cold tile wall behind you, goosebumps forming on your bare, heated skin, looking up at him past your wispy lashes, an amalgamation of intense hatred and lust sitting just beneath the surface of your piercing gaze. “Or did you come here to fuck me?” 

Wooyoung groaned at your bold words, pressing one of his hands onto the wall near your head, the other cupping your slick cunt, his lips just barely ghosting yours. “I didn’t just come here to fuck you, princess. I came here to ruin you.”

“Then, ruin me,” you reiterated, grabbing Wooyoung by a tuft of his wet hair, your teeth and tongues clashing together in an instant. 

Once Wooyoung was satisfied with the amount of spit he had swallowed, he pulled back, simply placing one hand on the top of your head and forcefully pushing you down until you got the hint. 

You were mad at yourself for being unable to resist getting on your knees for a cocky prick like Wooyoung, so you simply glared up at him, trying to pretend you didn’t notice his stiff, thick cock standing at attention in front of your face. “When I said ruin me, I meant my cunt. You think I’m just gonna suck you off because you pushed my head down? It’s bold of you to assume I won’t bite.” 

“Don’t be a brat, Y/N. I won today, so I deserve special treatment, don’t I?” Wooyoung argued, squinting his eyes at you once you began grimacing up at his erection, his fingers wrapping around your hair to create a makeshift ponytail. “Maybe if you didn’t strike out so many times, I would be the one on my knees, devouring that pretty cunt of yours.” 

“Shut the fuck up…” you murmured, squeezing your thighs together, not understanding why someone like Wooyoung had so much power over you. 

“That’s not very nice of you to say, princess.” Wooyoung reached down with his free hand to hold the base of his cock, tapping the leaking tip against your lips, smearing his pre-cum over them in the process. “How about we put that dirty mouth of yours to better use, yeah?”

Afraid he was late to the show after being forced to do an interview with the local college, Yunho quickly made his way into the women’s locker room, almost slipping on the bat you left on the floor as he followed the sounds of breathy groans, gurgled moans, and running water that were echoing from the showers. He almost fell to his knees at the sight of his best friend taking cock down her throat. You were a complete mess, streaks of mascara running down your flushed cheeks, strands of milky saliva dribbling down past your swollen lips, along your bulging throat, and onto your tits, your nose routinely making contact with Wooyoung’s pelvis. Yunho didn’t even know you could deep-throat cock with so much ease. 

Leaning against the opposite side of the shower room, Yunho desperately began to palm at his stiff, leaking length through the baggy gray sweatpants that hung loosely from his hips, his cheeks and ears growing red once he caught your teary gaze. 

You reached in between your trembling thighs, trying to relieve the deep ache inside your dripping cunt by filling it with two of your fingers, letting out a choked moan when Wooyoung roughly smacked the side of your cheek. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself? You’re my cocksleeve right now. You don’t get to play with your cunt, dumb whore,” Wooyoung grunted, letting go of your hair to pinch your nose when you wouldn’t stop finger-fucking yourself, keeping his cock lodged deep inside your throat, cutting off your only source to oxygen. 

“M-mmnfff…!” you whimpered, your brain starting to feel delightfully fuzzy around the edges, getting an instant head high from not being able to breathe. You waited until the very last second to stop playing with yourself, suddenly grabbing onto Wooyoung’s hips and squeezing them tightly, begging him for mercy with your watery eyes. 

Wooyoung immediately pulled his cock out of your mouth and slapped it down onto your face as a further attempt to humiliate you in front of your friend. “What a dirty slut…” He began to jerk himself off, rubbing his reddened cockhead against your parted lips. “I want you to listen to me. Once I cum inside your mouth, you’re not going to swallow, got it?” 

Wiping the excess saliva from your face, you nodded your head obediently, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes, knowing Yunho was just a few feet away from you, but too distracted by the thick, leaking cock right in front of your face. “Cum, please…”

Yunho didn’t realize how much he was getting off on being ignored by the two of you until he finally freed his cock from his stained sweatpants and jerked himself off directly, thick globs of pre-cum pouring down the side of his heavy length, breathy, whiny moans escaping from his drooling mouth, his glasses starting to fog up. 

“Brainless for me already, hm? What a good girl. Now, show me your tongue,” Wooyoung whispered, taking advantage of the situation and sending a few strings of spit down onto it as soon as you held out your tongue. When he watched you swallow it immediately, your thighs squeezing together right after, Wooyoung tossed his head back and let out a long guttural groan, pressing his cockhead against your tongue just in time for spurts of hot cum to shoot out of it. 

Ready to cum untouched from being used solely for Wooyoung’s pleasure, you carefully closed your mouth, not letting any of his hot load spill out, but not swallowing it down either, as much as you wanted to.

Wooyoung reached down to run his fingers through your wet hair, admiring the mess of pre-cum and spit you had on your face, smiling at you with his canines on display. “Spit out my cum onto your fingers and fuck it into that whore-hole of yours. You wanted to play with yourself, didn’t you? Now’s your chance, princess.” 

Shocked by Wooyoung’s perverted request, you simply looked up at him with wide eyes, looking like a hamster with the way your cheeks were currently puffed out and filled with his cum. 

“Go on, baby. Don’t be shy. Show Yunho why you have a reputation of being such a shameless cumslut with the guys on my team,” Wooyoung encouraged breathily, gently patting one of your filled cheeks, a few dribbles of milkiness leaking out past your lips.

Yunho’s eyes left the soaking mess in between your thighs for a second to meet your embarrassed gaze, coming to terms with this new information. Not only did you fuck him after your losses, but you took the time to fuck the winning team, even after Yunho had filled your womb with countless loads. You really were a slut. Yunho became so hard, he grew a bit dizzy. 

“F-fine, but don’t stare…” you murmured sheepishly, as if you hadn’t been ran through by both of their teams before. The men in question watched with bated breath as you let the milky load drip onto your fingers, letting out little gasps when they quickly disappeared all the way inside you, your cunt making obscene squelching sounds each time you pushed them in and out.

“You’re so filthy…I think I’m in love,” Wooyoung sighed dreamily, reaching down to clutch your jaw with his slender fingers. He smiled keenly at your contorted expression, enjoying the sound of your whiny moans. “What’s wrong, princess? Are you going to cum just from being a filthy whore? Does it feel that good knowing you're breeding yourself with my load? Mm, and it feels even better knowing that Yunho is watching you be my pretty little cum dump, huh?” 

“S-so good, I might…ffffuck…” Once your heated gaze returned to your best friend, Yunho began to seize up at the same time as you, painting his plain black t-shirt with ropes of cum just as your milky release poured onto the tile floor below. 

Wooyoung simply chuckled in amusement, before turning his head to face his longtime friend just in time to see him wiping thick streaks of cum off of his long, softened length. “Did you just bust a nut from watching Y/N try to impregnate herself?” 

“Y-yes.” Blushing, Yunho adjusted his glasses out of habit, now that he wasn’t wearing his contacts, pulling at the sleeve of his hoodie now that his two favorite people were looking at him like they wanted to devour him. 

“You’re just as dirty as she is.” Wooyoung smiled idly, positioning himself behind you so that your back pressed into his chest, slowly spreading you wide open for all three of you to see just how pink your soaked slit was. “Hey, Yun. You hungry?” 

“Very,” your teammate replied quickly, licking at his lips, already finding himself on his knees before you, ready to start panting in true golden retriever fashion. 

“You don’t mind if Yun eats out your pretty, cum-stuffed cunt, do you, baby?” Wooyoung asked you, leaning over to nip at your jaw, pinching your swollen clit just to hear the cute sound you made for him. 

Just as you gave them the go-ahead, your teammate buried his face in between your thighs, appreciating how Wooyoung spread you open further with his thumbs, eagerly lapping at the milky liquid that slowly began to drip out of you. 

“What a good puppy,” Wooyoung praised, growing hard and harder the longer he watched Yunho desperately slurp up the tangy mixture into his drooling mouth, slipping his cock in between your soft, sweaty thighs, appreciating the warmth they provided. “Do you like the way my cum tastes, Yun?” 

“Tasches scho good, Woo,” Yunho replied with his mouth full, dragging his dripping tongue up and over your puffy cunt over and over, idly kneading his fingers into the sides of your thighs. 

Groaning, Wooyoung began to fuck the tight space in between your thighs, the underside of his cock rubbing deliciously against your pussy, making you moan even louder than you were before. “You wanna taste it from the source, Yun? Huh? You want a taste of my cock?” 

Yunho nodded quickly, having to push down his own stiff length from the way it was poking into his abdomen. Drooling, he watched how Wooyoung pulled you just a little farther back against his body, until Yunho had access to his friend’s leaking cock, immediately wrapping his lips around the reddened tip and noisily slurping on it. 

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Wooyoung moaned out, clutching one of your hips tightly, snaking the other one around your waist to begin flicking and rubbing your clit, looking down over your shoulder to watch his friend fervently suck and lick at his cock each time he thrusted himself between your closed, trembling thighs, a combination of his pre-cum and your wetness dirtying Yunho’s foggy glasses. “I’m gonna fucking cum all over your face, Yun. Gonna make Y/N squirt all over it too.” 

“Give it to me, please…” he panted, dragging his tongue up from Wooyoung’s twitching tip, along your pulsing cunt, and up over your clit, licking fervently at it when Wooyoung lifted your hood up to expose it completely. Yunho was so desperate to chase his high, he almost didn’t register that he had begun to hump against your leg like a dog in heat, leaving streaks of sticky pre-cum on your skin. 

“Good puppy, fuck, you’re such a good boy, Yuyu,” you praised your teammate whinily, desperately rubbing your cunt all over his tongue until your knees felt like they were about to buckle, Wooyoung’s veiny cock running along your slit from below sending you over the edge. 

“Wet this puppy’s face with your squirt, baby. Now,” Wooyoung growled into your ear, biting on the side of it just as he roughly pinched your clit, thrusting forward in between your thighs one more time, only for his sensitive tip to be met with Yunho’s agile tongue, his eyes rolling back when his friend lapped over and into the slit. 

Right as your arousal began to squirt onto Yunho’s flushed face, Wooyoung’s cock twitched up into your cunt, his hot load shooting out onto your teammate’s tongue, a few spurts landing onto his glasses. 

When Yunho was about to cum from rubbing himself all over your leg, he suddenly didn’t have access to it, causing him to look up and whimper. Licking at the cum and squirt on his lips, his honey brown eyes widened at the both of you, his pupils blown wide. 

Wooyoung had lifted up your trembling thighs so that they were pressed into either side of you, your body folded up like a paper doll, his hardened cock already slipping in and out of your soaking cunt. Chuckling at your breathless moans and whines, he dragged his tongue up and over your jaw, humming at the taste of your salty skin. “You’ve been waiting to get pounded like this, yeah? Because no one uses this pretty body like I do…huh? You’re so spoiled now.” 

“It’s all your fault,” you gasped out in between moans, reaching your arm back to hold onto Wooyoung’s neck, turning your head so that your lips ghosted along the side of his panting mouth. “Please cum inside, Woo, please, I need it.” 

Wooyoung squeezed his fingers into the underside of your thighs, bucking his hips roughly up into you. “God, I love when I turn you into my little breeding bitch.” He turned his head so that he could bite at your bottom lip, groaning, “Get ready to retire, baby. I’m gonna knock you up.” 

Yunho thought he was going to lose his goddamn mind from witnessing the display of dominance and submission that was taking place directly above him. Wooyoung was completely controlling your body, ruthlessly fucking up into you, one hand tugging at your hair, the other wrapped around your neck, a small bulge routinely becoming visible within your lower abdomen with each thrust and every he made into your stretched cunt. It seemed like neither of you could even remember that Yunho was there, right below you, until he began to eagerly lick at the slick, milky space where your heated, sticky bodies routinely made contact. 

You both moaned at the pleasurable sensation, your pulsing lower halves beginning to grow extremely heavy. “Yuyuuu, that feels so good,” you whimpered, angling your head down to gaze lovingly at Yunho, reaching your hand down to ruffle his sweaty hair. 

Growling, Wooyoung grabbed you by the chin and shoved his tongue down your throat, forcibly bouncing you up and down on his cock. Your teary eyes never closed, and never left Yunho’s, even when you began to cum for Wooyoung, your release spilling out into your dear teammate’s open mouth and onto his lolled-out tongue. Just when Yunho thought he couldn’t get any harder, you began to cry out a cuter version of Wooyoung’s name once he really started to drill his pulsing cock into your sensitive cunt, the twinges of jealousy Yunho felt only contributing to his need to witness his friend unload himself into you. 

Wooyoung pressed his forehead against yours, his sharp eyes boring into yours. “You look at me when you take my load, baby. I don’t care if your little boyfriend is watching me fuck you stupid,” he demanded, smacking his palm roughly into the side of your ass, making you squeak out in pleasurable pain. 

“Yes, Youngie,” you breathed out, your eyebrows drawing closer once your bottom half began to grow heavier and heavier, not knowing if you were truly capable of cumming for the nth time. 

“What a good girl…Open your mouth for me…” Sighing softly, he caught his dripping saliva on your tongue with his own and slid it into your open mouth, the both of you letting out muffled moans as he spilled inside you once again. He broke the sloppy kiss to look down over your shoulder, admiring how his load began to slip out past his softening cock, dripped down past his balls, and landed onto Yunho’s fucked-out face. He smiled darkly at the dried spurts of cum Yunho left on his t-shirt and stained sweatpants. “Baby, look at the mess puppy made…” 

You licked at your lips, both you and Wooyoung just about devouring your teammate with your lustful gazes alone. “Oh, Yuyu. Look what you’ve done to yourself. Poor, sweet puppy just wants to feel good, doesn’t he?” 

Yunho bit his bottom lip, looking up at the both of you with half-closed, watery eyes, completely at your combined mercy. “Y-yeah. More, please.” 

You and Wooyoung exchanged lecherous glances, knowing neither of you would be able to stop, especially not when you had such a perfect new companion to play with. Despite all the odds, you and your rival had finally come to a truce, and, of course, came to the conclusion that you’d be tag teaming Yunho until you would have to get ready for softball practice the next morning.

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[charlie-thewitch]

JiuYuan plot bunny

Shen Yuan transmigrates/reincarnates waay before the plot even begins, as a somewhat rich second or third son of a merchant family (cliché or clasic background? You decide) not specially sick nor a priority for his family as he's not likely to inherit almost anything he is send to cultivate to a small sect. Because who else will want their unremarkable son?

Turns out ranting about poetry in the street with a vendor is a sure way to make someone important want their unremarkable son.

Enter the current Lord of Qing Jing who saw a gremlin with taste and opinions and immediately wanted him. Also the immediate moment when Shen Yuan finds out where exactly he was reborn in (pray for him). So Shen Yuan gets to join directly into QJP if he passes the other test and well, the story wont go on if he doesn't so let's say he does.

His dumbass tries to make everyone believe he's lazy to avoid work like he did back home but Aha! Shizun is on his bs so in no time he's made head disciple. Natural teacher, excellent memory and talented swordsman (This nerd got too excited by swords and practiced so much he now is the best of his generation and he desperately wants you to know he didn't want for this to happen) it's like he was made to lead QJP!

Side note: LQG will be made head disciple of BZP in a year or so, that's why SY is the generation's best, currently.

Here comes the boy! Absolutely traumatized feral kitten Shen Jiu gets into CQM and QJP out of season and with his general attitude immediately gets enemies everywhere. Not problem! Da-Shixiong will show you around and- Oh? You don't want Da-Shixiong to speak with you? Alright. Just remember to get to dinner and sleep well, goodnight!

And just like that you get an oblivious Shen Yuan respecting a hesitantly curious Shen Jiu who, in turn, decides that the best thing to do with this interest is to find blackmail on SY and take his place as head disciple.

Cue shenanigans and hijinks with stalker SJ and unsuspecting SY. And them getting closer by basically respecting SJ's space and time and being a decent human?! What?!

So like bonding with a cat. Slow, respectfully and with lots and lots of treats. Once Shen Yuan figured out Shen Jiu's weakness is just sweets it's all over. Now hes SJ's shixiong and no one else's. No, shut up A-Yuan, they are not worth our time.

Does he trust SY unconditionally? He's getting there. Nighthunts and being saved like a damsel in distress once in a while helps, even if he gets hissy and pretends to not like it. More so when SY immediately turns to him for both counsel on investigations and to make sure he's safe while in the hunts. Also Shixiong spends almost all his time helping him in fixing his cultivation and teaching him the arts, even when no one else would give a shit, so he gets extra points by being a good boy to his A-Jiu.

Shen Yuan? He thinks he's being a good bro and helping SJ fix whatever made him such an ass in PIDW. He doesn't know what happened before SJ went to CQM nor his past as a slave, only thought he looked like a feral cat and acted accordingly. And yes, calling him A-Jiu is absolutely necessary to that recovery.

In the middle of this SY tries to make contact with TLJ to help him either run away with SXY or take out the OPM so the tragedy doesn't happend. But shit hits the fan and SY gets outed as a demon sympathizer when the sealing under a mountain still happens but he tries to reason with the CQM's sect leader that the demon was innocent.

No one can prove that he was a traitor but under the added presure of public sentiment he's punished severely. Sect leader gives him two choices; He either leaves and retrieves a mega ultra rare mcguffin that'll take him 20 years to get or gets banished immediately and losses any standing he has with the sect.

In simple terms: Prove your loyalty with this very difficult quest or leave.

As a pseudo-compromise sect leader promised no one will take his place if he leaves for the quest nor will they banish SJ for being so close to a posible traitor. SY, naturally, accepts the quest with all the spite and grief of someone who failed his true quest of saving his best friend and the world too he supposes.

But QJP cannot be without a Head disciple nor a Peak Lord! Because plot twist, the lords are preparing to ascend in the next like 5 years. Sect leader knew this, and this is his way to force QJ's peak lord to appoint a different head disciple when SY is away anyways. If that happens SY will lose everything anyways, even if he comes back.

So the strategists get together and make a plan.

Shen Yuan will leave in his quest but before that he'll marry someone trusted that can be acting peak lord in his absence but will not usurp his place. Doble plot twist! That person is Shen Jiu because just as SJ got mellower with SY's influence so did SY get more paranoid. He only trust his dear shidi and no one else but oh how could he force his shidi into- Oh? You'll do it? Why do i have to be the wif-

And they marry in semi secret, taking a small moment for SJ to make him doble promise to come back for him and to give his own doble promise to wait for his return. SJ doesn't like this, not one bit. But this time he's safe, in a position of power and tentatively ready to trust again. He'd rather have his husband with him at least for their wedding night but oh well, they don't get that. They make arrangements for SY to send letters to the WRP so SJ can know how he's doing even if he can't receive any in exchange. It'll be a lonely 20 years.

Shen Yuan leaves and Shen Jiu gets appointed acting head disciple and then acting peak lord. With his silks and his husband's name as a shield (Qingqiu is SY's, but he can use it because they married) he rules QJP much more detached than in PIDW, almost completely ignoring the disciples. This is his A-Yuan's work after all and if he wants it done he better hurry and come do it himself. They've always joked that SY would teach while SJ would govern the peak, even before ever discussing marriage (It didn't matter that A-Yuan didn't know they would eventually get married. They would have regardless)

And Yue Qingyuan you didn't ask? He's in the background wanting to talk to Xiao-Jiu constantly but SJ doesn't need him nor want him. SY's therapy helped him let go if not forgive YQY, he's at the point where he can just ignore him. YQY on the other hand is guiltily ecstatic SY is out of the picture and Xiao-Jiu can be peak lord and rule at his side. Just like he wanted!

Like that 15 years pass. SJ still gets a reputation of going to brothels even if its to read his hubby's letters and sleep. And at this point all other peak lords either forgot he's technically just acting peak lord or never knew there was another Shen-Shixiong who should be peak lord instead.

At this point I'm not sure how to proceed. It'll have to be either:

a) Shen Yuan comes back during the demon invasion or

b) He comes when they are having a peak lord meeting for conveniences sake

Let's do invasion for dramatic purposes.

So you have a supremely pissed off SJ dealing with the demons and watching as the runt of his peak desperately tries to beat his opponent while making a mockery out of their QJP fighting style (LBH is actually doing pretty good, SJ is just Like That™) when suddenly a sword only he recognizes flies faster than a bullet to stop the defeated demon from attacking the little beast and the whole place falls into silence. SJ can hear his pulse in his ears, he almost can't breathe.

The disciples are looking at him for instructions but he can't think of anything as the most beautiful face he has ever seen slowly walks out of the trees into the improvised arena. His hair is finally long now, but not even close to well cared for. His clothes dusty and well worn but not threadbare nor stained with ink like it usually was in their disciple days. His A-Yuan is glorious as he makes the demons run like the pathetic bugs they are.

LQG has come too but there's not more fighting to be had, only a couple reunited at last. SJ sends decorum through the window and yanks his A-Yuan into a long awaited kiss in front of basically every disciple and an enraged and flustered LQG (Man is having the weirdest awakening)

SY is surprised at first but quickly reciprocates, finally at peace with his feelings. Because guess what, 15 years of pinning + letters that slowly become romantic without the fear of retribution will do just fine for him to admit he fell in love with his husband at some point. He was scared shitless of SJ reaction to him coming back and it was only that promise what made him go home regardless. A-Jiu can hate him, but he is NOT breaking that promise. He even made it 5 years earlier, isn't he such a good husband?

Later in the emergency meating LQG is still screaming at them for shameless and inmoral and how could this be the first thing Shen Yuan does when he comes back when they could've just spared

And everyone else (minus YQY, SQH and the beast peak lord) are just like What? Who's this? And SY looks at YQY disapprovingly (He knows YQY covets his wife and purposely didn't tell them) and explains he's the QJ peak lord and SJ as his husband has been ruling QJ in his stead for the past 15 years. And yes, that's why SJ is sitting in his lap.

When the whole story comes out everyone is more surprised to know they are married than the fact SY made the last sect leader so angry he was basically given a suicide mission (Not even YQY knew that) but don't worry! He has absolutely no inclination of taking his A-Jiu's position away. He'd rather teach his little disciples and let his wife to berate their martial siblings as is his right (Someone said they'll be happy having SY instead of SJ in meetings from now on and He Did Not Like That) So they'll share the name Qingqiu as QJ has two peak lords from now on.

Now if they'll excuse them they have a wedding night to finally enjoy.

[these-lovely-monsters]

Tentacles Under The Bed - Part 3

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: gn!tentacle monster x f!reader

Content: tentacles, eldritch monster

A/N: Here is part 3 at last! It started to get a bit long so I decided to break it up into 2 parts. This one is just fluff (no smut), but don't worry, I am posting part 4 with more tentacle shenanigans at the same time so you won't have to wait!

Since it fits, I'm also tagging this for #10 Tentacles from @ozzgin's Monstertober 2024 prompt list

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

The next morning you wake to the bright sunlight streaming through the open window of your bedroom. Blinking open groggy eyes, you stretch your sore muscles with a groan. You smile to yourself at the memories from last night as you admire the bright red circular marks that cover your skin. You realize then that the tentacle monster is no longer holding your hand.

Leaning over the side of your bed, you peer under it but there’s nothing there. You sigh in disappointment and get up to grab some clothes from your closet. Just as you finish pulling them on, a soft rustling sound comes from behind you and you turn in excitement.

To your delight, you see a few tentacles peeking out from under your bed, gently feeling around on the sheets as if looking for you.

“You came back!” You exclaim as you rush over to it.

“Of course, my sweet. I will never leave you,” its deep, cosmic voice echoes in your head. Before you have a chance to wonder at its statement, it continues, “Did you rest well?”

“Yeah.” A small smile pulls at the corners of your mouth, “Thank you.” Biting your lip, you tentatively ask, “Will…will you come out so I can see you?”

The monster is quiet for a beat before saying, “I do not want to scare you.”

How bad could it really be? 

“I won’t be afraid, I promise.”

“I am not like your kind or anything that lives in this dimension.”

This dimension? Now you’re really curious, but you decide to table those questions for later in favor of coaxing this monster out from under your bed.

“I know,” you say as you take a step forward. You’ve already jumped way past the line of sanity by letting it fuck you with its tentacles so you might as well dive into the deep end at this point. “But you’ve seen all of me and I want to see all of you in return.”

It doesn't say anything for several moments and you wait patiently. “Very well,” it finally replies.

You watch with bated breath as the tentacles begin to slide forward. Soon there are dozens spilling from beneath your bed, squirming and writhing as a massive shape begins to form. Within moments, the monster has fully emerged and is looming over you, nearly blocking out the light from the window.

You gape in awe at the creature before you. Amidst the sea of tentacles that writhe from every side, is an amorphous, dark mass. You can’t quite tell what it’s made of but it looks almost like goo. When you take a step closer to get a better look, you can see that the surface is not actually black, but rather a deep shade of dark purple. The color appears to shimmer in the daylight as it gently undulates under your gaze. You also notice that it’s slightly transparent since you can make out the faint outline of your desk behind it.

As you stare at the creature, trying to drink in all the details, the tentacles begin to shift along its body so that a blank space forms on the side that’s facing you. Without warning, dozens of eyes suddenly blink open in front of you and you yelp in surprise. When a wide slit appears below the eyes, revealing two rows of black, razor sharp teeth, your breath catches in your throat and you take a half step back.

The tentacles droop at your reaction. “See? I told you that you would not like what you saw.”

“No!” You hurry to explain, “I was just startled, that’s all.”

“I will change my form to better suit your liking.”

You watch in fascination as the tentacles begin to melt into the dark mass until they are all gone. The eyes and mouth close and disappear as well. Its body then begins to morph, rippling and shuttering as it reforms into a roughly humanoid shape. Amazingly, the surface also flickers as the color lightens to a soft pink.

Two of its eyes blink open again in the approximate location of where human eyes would be. Except that one of the eyes is a bit too low, looking as if it’s melting off. The mouth also reappears, much smaller this time, but still with the same deadly teeth. When the monster stretches its mouth wide in a gut-churning imitation of a smile, you grimace.

Now this is utterly terrifying.

Swallowing the bile that’s trying to climb up your throat, you manage to choke out, “No—no that’s ok. I like your normal form just fine.”

“Are you sure? Would this not make you more comfortable?”

“I’m sure,” you say with a pained smile. “You can change back.”

“Very well then.”

You sigh in relief when the monster quickly shifts back to its original shape. When it first appeared, you thought it was beautiful in its own way, with its shimmering surface and gorgeous dark purple color. But now, after seeing the monstrosity of its “humanoid” version, you find that you quite like its true form.

“Much better,” you say with a genuine smile this time. Your grin only widens when it wriggles in obvious pleasure at your words.

“Hey, what’s your name, by the way?” You ask, realizing you never actually had a proper introduction.

“I am called *garbled noises*”

Whatever name it just gave you is completely unintelligible to you. “Umm…sorry, what?”

It repeats the same unintelligible noises again and you wince, knowing it will be impossible for you to grasp, let alone repeat. “I uh—I don’t know if I can pronounce that. But the beginning kind of sounds like ‘Karl’. Would it be alright if I called you that?”

“You—you would give me a name?” It asks in a stunned tone.

Worried that you may have offended it, you try to backtrack a little, “I don’t have to! Only if you’re ok with it, I mean. I just—”

“I would be honored to be named you,” it interrupts you, its voice reverent.

Sighing in relief, you grin. “Ok then. It’s nice to meet you, Karl.”

“Kaaarrrlll,” it says, dragging out the sounds as if testing them out. “I shall be Karl from now on. Thank you very much for this gift, I will cherish it for eternity.”

Reaching out a tentacle towards you, Karl curls the end into a ball and holds it there. You stare down at it in confusion, blinking a few times. “What…what are you doing?”

“Is this not what humans do in greeting?” Karl replies, reaching down to grab your opposite arm with a tentacle. It wraps around your hand, manipulating it until your hand is in a fist. Then Karl lightly taps its balled up tentacle against your closed fist and says, “Sup, bro?”

You continue to stare in utter confusion for a moment until it dawns on you that Karl just tried to fist bump you and you burst out laughing.

“What is so amusing?” It asks in a mildly affronted voice. “I have seen many humans greet each other this way. The ones who throw around the big orange ball do this a lot.”

“That’s not…” you try to reply through wheezing gasps but you’re still laughing too hard. After a minute, you finally settle down and catch your breath. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… that’s how friends might greet each other.”

“Are we not friends?”

“Well…” you hesitate. “We could be. But since we…Uh... Since we were intimate… That’s not how lovers would greet each other.” You manage to stumble through your explanation, hoping Karl understands what you’re trying to say.

“Are we…” it pauses, as if mulling over the word, “lovers?”

“I mean, I guess?” You hedge, not quite meaning for it to come out as a question.

“And how do lovers greet each other?”

Laughing awkwardly, you rub the back of your neck. “They…would kiss each other.” You can feel your cheeks flaming at the thought. This monster literally fucked you senseless twice and here you are, blushing like a school girl at the thought of kissing it.

“Kiss?”

Oh gods. Your cheeks manage to grow even hotter. Taking a step closer so that you’re only a few inches from Karl, you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, like this,” you say as you lean in and place a soft kiss on its now closed mouth.

Karl is quiet for a moment before demanding, “Do it again.”

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

taglist: @blushycadaver @pearlofrose @gothicsugarslvt

[mammonsrockstargf]

HIDE AWAY

contents: mammon x gn! reader, fluff/crack?, gets suggestive towards the end, lucifer appearance (boooo), mammon is taller than reader, dumb shenanigans!! you have been warned, teasing, kissing, not proofread wordcount: 1k alba's note: happy birthday to my favourite man <3

“Who’s a good boy?”

“Wha-” Mammon immediately stops in his tracks, his eyebrows narrowing and the tops of his ears turning red.

“Why are ya talkin’ to me like I’m a dog or somethin’?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from you. You can spot a blush growing from his neck, and the sight makes you cackle. 

“You’re my good boy,” you repeat, reaching out to scratch Mammon behind his ear, but he quickly swats your hand away, sending you a look of disbelief. “I’m not a dog!” he exclaims, avoiding your various attempts to ruffle his hair, knowing that if you get his hands on him, he might turn into a puddle of goo. “Stop that!”

You show no effort to stop, continuing to coo at him as though he’s a golden retriever you’ve just spotted on the sidewalk. 

“Hey, I am The Great Mammon! Do not cross me, human!” he continues. At this point, he’s red all over, hastily walking away from you. Your laughter only grows in volume as you continue to mess with him while you follow him. 

“You know what?” Mammon says, abruptly stopping, causing you to collide with his back. “Hmmpf! Hey, why did you—” Mammon turns around, and you go silent as you catch the look in his eyes. Annoyed, amused, and a little bit insane is the vibe you get as his pout morphs into a grin. 

“I’m a demon. I’ll eat you,” he says, teasingly flashing his fangs. You gasp. 

“You wouldn’t!” 

“I will!”

You decide to make a run for it, quickly moving down the hall towards your room. If you can make it in there and grab a weapon (a pillow) in time, then you might make it. Mammon is behind you, cackling evilly. You go around the corner, and you were so so close to salvation, if it wasn’t for the wall you ran into. 

“Auch!” you exclaim, rubbing your forehead. Your heart stops as you realise that the wall is wearing a suit. You look up to find red eyes already glaring at you. Mammon stifles a laugh behind you, pulling at your shirt to get you to walk a few steps back and create some distance between you and his older brother. 

“What are the two of you doing?” Lucifer asks, clearly tired of your shenanigans as you attempt to put on your most charming smile. 

“Hello, Luci. Did you have a good day?” you ask, wincing slightly when Mammon squeezes your hand in warning. You look back at him to find him shaking his head while motioning to stop with his hands. Lucifer sighs. 

“I seem to remember the two of you were on kitchen duty tonight. Perhaps you forgot?” He says, and you open your mouth to speak before closing it again. You completely forgot. 

“Hey, listen, I can explain,” Mammon begins, but he quickly shuts up when Lucifer glares at him. He begins his lecture, by telling you both how you’re irresponsible, and you do your best to pretend you’re listening as Mammon leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“On now, we run,”

“What?”

“Now!”

“Mammoon!”

You’re pulled down the hallway, down the flight of stairs into the living room. You gasp for air, barely being able to keep up with Mammon’s long legs, before you’re shown down another hallway and pushed into a closet. Mammon follows, closing the door behind him. It’s so tiny that you’re pressed against each other, and you can hear his heartbeat as you try to catch your breath. 

“He’s gonna hang you up on the ceiling,” you whisper after a moment of silence and Mammon huffs.

“Not if he doesn't find me.”

“He will find you.” 

You stand for another while and you shift, trying to find better space, but it only leads to you being closer to Mammon. 

“Aw, you stepped on my toe!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, and Mammon groans. Your hands find Mammon’s chest, snaking up to wrap around his neck as you pull him down to you. 

“Let me make it up to you,” you say, pulling him in for a kiss. He immediately reciprocates, his hands finding your hips as you’re pressed against the closet wall behind you. Mammon’s lips are soft, and his hands are warm as they travel around your body. You pull at his hair slightly, nails running along his scalp in the way you know he likes, and he rewards you with a breathy groan, almost a whine, as he leans closer in, till you’re completely trapped between him and the wall. His hands move a bit too low, squeezing your ass, and you gasp.

Mammon doesn’t waste the opportunity, slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you let him before you pull away for air. The closet feels awfully stuffy and hot all of a sudden as he moves down your jaw, placing kisses along your neck.

“Mams,” you sigh, patting his shoulder. “We can’t fuck in a closet.” 

Mammon whines at this, coming up to place one chaste kiss on your lips. 

“Why not?” he asks, as his hands begin travelling low again before you grab them and intertwine your fingers. “Could be kind of hot.” 

You scoff at this, though Mammon seems completely earnest, his blue eyes practically lighting up the small space as he presses another kiss to your lips. “No, one of us would definitely fall, or Lucifer would find us,”—Mammon grimaces at the thought—“or we would break something.”

You could list more predictions, but Mammon seems to get the picture as he rolls his eyes and pulls away slightly. 

“Yeah, okay, I get it,” he says. You lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’ll tell you what,” you whisper in his ear, and Mammon hums, arms automatically wrapping around you in a hug again. “If we make it to your room, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” you murmur, and you can’t help but laugh when Mammon’s grip on you tightens as his breath slightly hitches. 

“Yeah, definitely, you’re on, treasure.” 

…

You watch Lucifer string Mammon to the ceiling, attempting to hide your smile as Mammon grumbles. His older brother shakes his head, not even bothering to say anything as he walks away towards his office. 

You kiss Mammon’s nose as he huffs and puffs in disappointment. 

“Biggest cockblock ever,” he mumbles, glaring towards Lucifer that’s disappearing down the hall. You stifle a giggle and kiss his cheek. 

“The night isn’t over yet.”

thank you for reading!

masterlist | divider by cafekitsune

[tales-of-the-ghost-zone]

DP X DC crossover prompt

Sam and Tucker, thanks to living in Amity Park and being overshadowed and controlled by ghosts so many time, had become very liminal. Until an accident while trying to stop the newest ghost enemy led to the two of them becoming halfa’s. Sam’s ghost form looks like what she looked like during the whole Undergrowth thing. And Tucker’s ghost form looks like his King Tuck design.

After a reveal gone wrong, Danny, Sam, and Tucker flee Amity Park. The trio run away to Gotham, and using money Sam managed to snag from her account before they left, they buy a nice sized building right in the middle of Crime Alley. They decide to turn it into a bookshop and cafe. There’s a garden/greenhouse attached to the back end of the building where Sam grows all her plants and herbs. Tucker has his own tech room in the basement alongside Danny’s tiny lab space. They live together in the apartment above the bookshop/cafe.

One day while out on a walk, Danny stumbles across two tiny twin half formed baby ghost cores. They’re nothing more than tiny little balls of glowing light at the moment. Baby ghosts that are just starting to form but are nothing more than cores at the moment. But they seem to be slowly fading. Danny refuses to let them fade away into nothing. He scoops them up, infuses them with some of his ectoplasm to get them going, and then shoved them into his chest for safe keeping and so that they can be close to his own core which starts slowly feeding them energy.

Danny rushes back to the shop and drags Sam and Tucker to the upstairs apartment and shows him the baby ghost cores he’s found. The three all agree that they’re going to help these cores develop into actual ghosts. They switch off on who carry’s the ghost cores around. Some days it’s Danny. Some days it’s Tucker. And some days it’s Sam. Each of them feeding the cores a little bit of their ectoplasm to help them grow.

One of the cores feels distinctly female and has a purplish blue glow to it. The three start jokingly calling her violet. The other core has a distinctly male feel to it. It’s an orangish red and has a small crack along one side of it. Danny jokingly said one time how he (the baby core) kind of looked like Nemo’s egg at the beginning of Finding Nemo and ever since they’ve been calling him Nemo.

The two cores have been developing very slowly, both seemingly unable to absorb the needed ectoplasm, to form into full ghosts, quickly. The trio is fine with this, they can be patient, and wait to meet their twins.

Then one day there’s some kind of massive ghost attack. Maybe a cult or something attempted to summon the ghost king but messed up the summoning and accidentally summoned something else. The Justice League try and fight the thing, but they’re no match for this ghost monstrosity. And the JLD aren’t available to help for whatever reason. The trio decides to step in and help. They kick the crap out of the ghost pretty easily and send it back to the ghost zone. Then Danny, in his King Phantom garb (crown of fire, whispy white fire like hair, a regal looking version of his hazmat suit, the ring of rage on one finger, and a cape around his shoulders, the outside being pure white but the inside looking like the vastness of space) approaches the cult and rebukes them, telling them how even if they had managed to summon him he never would have helped them take over the world.

After that the trio become members of the Justice League. Thanks to some of Danny’s previous time travel shenanigans, and Danny being the ghost king, and Sam and Tucker his consorts/mates(?) the Justice League all think that the trio are ancient eldritch ghost gods.

And then one day when the trio are in the Watch Tower with the rest of the League their twin baby ghost cores come up. Maybe it was time to switch out who was carrying them, and mid meeting or lunch or whatever, Danny just reaches into his chest, pulls out two small glowing orbs. He cradles them close to his chest for a moment, looking at them lovingly, and whispering something soft to them in ghost speak. Then hands them over to Sam, who does the whole cradle them close and whisper softly in ghost speak before shoving them right into her chest.

They look up from this to see the whole League staring at them wide eyed and confused. Danny just casually explains that those are their children but they’re still forming so the trio needs to keep them close to their cores to help them grow, but they like to switch up everyday who carry’s them. Every member of the Justice League becomes super protective of the trio after this. They see it as the three essentially being pregnant (sort of), and they don’t always know which one of them is carrying the baby ghost. So best to just be protective of all three. The trio finds this kind of amusing and a touch bit sweet.

When the twin baby cores finally develop into actual baby ghosts, the two kind of look like a mixture between Danny, Sam, and Tucker’s ghost forms. Though Violet has dark purple hair and eyes and Nemo has bright orangish red hair and eyes.

[misslycoris]

PLATONIC

𐂂 Oh best believe he's not gonna take you seriously at the beginning of your so-called friendship, I don't even think he considers it as one.

𐂂 He just considers you as one of the many people he knows. He also definitely doesn't think of you as an equal or anyone significant.

𐂂 He'll probably acknowledge your existence if you were a part of the hotel, but if you were just a random demon off the streets then no, he has better things to do with his time. Not unless you do something that grabs his attention.

𐂂 Deliberately trying to be on his good side won't affect him in any way, he's used to that treatment, therefore what you're doing is nothing special.

𐂂 But what does grab his attention? Subtle things. Giving him his space, if you have a phone or any technology invented beyond the 1930s you generally try and avoid him, thanking him as he passes you your portion of the meal he cooks for hotel bonding nights that Charlie mandated. Stuff like that when added up makes Alastor generally more appreciative of your existence.

𐂂 Only then you're upgraded from an acquaintance to an acquaintance that isn't as annoying to be around as the rest.

𐂂 That's when he strikes up random conversations with you, he appreciates it if you take the time to listen and add to it, even more so if you actually set aside something you were doing just to talk with him. It gives him a mini ego boost every time.

𐂂 Writing something while he talks about the hotel's structural problems? His smile widens when you close your notebook and join him by recounting the time you almost fell down the balcony.

𐂂 Eating breakfast and he talks about how he hunts the perfect deer for venison? There you are, chewing your food and nodding, listening to how he graphically describes the process while the rest of the hotel stares at him in horror.

𐂂 Another thing he does during this phase is popping out of nowhere and keeping up with what you're doing, call it interest, call it curiosity, or maybe it's boredom. Now that Alastor knows that you are more tolerant of him he'll fully use that to his entertainment.

𐂂 I can see him trying to get a deal out of you but it doesn't go anywhere, since I'm going to assume we are all smart enough to not hand our souls to Alastor on a silver platter.

𐂂 Survive his onslaught of impromptu shenanigans and move on to the next tier of actually being friends.

𐂂 Alastor treats his friends as his equals so there's that, also be ready to accept his invites to drinking coffee around the hotel and talking about the latest mess the hotel went through.

𐂂 The way he treats you compared to how he treats Angel or Husk is way different that it physically gives everyone a whiplash. I'm talking about something like this:

"Can you not scare off people, smiles? We're tryna bring in people into the hotel." Angel explains, Alastor only simpers as he feigns ignorance.

"Why, I don't know what you're talking about!" He laughs as he skips off merrily. Charlie and Vaggie then nod to each other and drag you into the conversation, whispering you something before they push you towards Alastor.

"Hey Alastor, I just wanted to ask if you could help me with something?" You ask, you haven't made up a chore to ask for help from him but you needed a reason to try and stop him from scaring any potential guests. Does Alastor know? I guarantee you he does. But does he let you do it anyways? Yes, absolutely he does.

"Anything to help a dear out, if you'll excuse us then!" Alastor bids goodbye for the both of you as you walk away, despite being the one to ask him, he was the one leading the way.

𐂂 Alastor also invites you to meet Rosie! Rosie finds you very endearing and if you had a penchant for cannibalism expect luncheons together with them.

𐂂 By this point everyone in the hotel notices how Alastor gravitates towards you, they have mixed reactions to it but the general consensus is to not disrupt your "bonding sessions" as Charlie puts it.

𐂂 Alastor oftentimes shares jokes whether or not you appreciate his humor. Side note, Alastor full-on cackles if you or Rosie say something outta pocket about somebody, and hangouts with both of them are generally a good time. He'll try to say shit like:

"Let's be nicer now." All the while he holds in a laugh after you and Rosie called Susan the wicked bitch of the West.

𐂂 This is also a silly thought of mine, but picture this:

You decided to stay up late one night after you decided to do whatever it is you were putting off and after a while, you decided to grab some coffee from downstairs.

Arriving at the kitchen you see, this eldritch abomination in the shadows looming over the cabinet where the instant coffee packets were kept. It then takes you a few seconds to register that it was Alastor and you were just left standing by the kitchen doorway, wondering what to say.

"Can I grab the coffee packets from that cabinet over there?" You point towards the cabinet, Alastor then quickly shifts back to his usual form and ushers you to the kitchen counter.

"Nonsense my dear! Why don't I make us some nice and hot coffee instead of consuming such tasteless things." Alastor insists and before you could even refuse he was already doing a French press.

𐂂 Though as you can imagine Alastor has his off days, he makes it clear to you when he isn't in the best of moods and you steer clear of him per his request. Then the fight with Adam happened. As the rest of the hotel was busy with rebuilding the hotel, you were balancing both looking for Alastor and helping paint the walls of the new hotel.

𐂂 This is when the remaining walls he had crumbled down as you find him at his lowest, basically defeated and while he was royally pissed when someone saw him in such a vulnerable state, you were the best option out of the ensemble that was currently singing outside of the ruins of his old radio station.

𐂂 Hesitant as he was, he let you dress his wound with bandages, he wasn't comfortable with anything else you offered, not with cleaning up the wound itself, not with telling the rest that he was alive, and definitely not asking for help from anyone either. So you stayed there for a while after you finished dressing his wound up, his blood immediately soaking through the bandage. But you didn't say anything and let Alastor be, and after a few more minutes in silence, he got up and offered you a hand as if he wasn't the one who needed it. The only thing he says is:

"We mustn't dilly-dally now, the rest are waiting for you." Not us, just you. It sounded bitter but you didn't say anything.

ROMANTIC(? AS MUCH AS ALASTOR CAN BE AT LEAST)

𐂂 Romantic isn't the right word for Alastor, I imagine him to be somebody who doesn't outright say his feelings but there's a gradual change, and then one day, before you know it people around the hotel will start asking you if you two were a thing. He's not going to acknowledge the change verbally, but he does notice it and acknowledges it in his own way.

𐂂 Don't get me wrong he's capable of being romantic, acts of service is his go-to, and on days that he feels like it he can be very vocal with his affections. But it's not an everyday occurrence.

𐂂 This only starts right after something like seeing him at his lowest, that for me is when I feel like he's more willing to be more open to you. I mean, you've already seen him at rock bottom, so why not?

𐂂 Go to him during your more vulnerable moments, he's done it to you so he expects the same. Trust goes both ways after all.

𐂂 It starts out small, if you were used to setting things aside just to listen to him ramble, wait until you start to notice that he's doing the same thing for you. Usually when you're discussing something he multitasks, of course he still listens but efficiency is of the essence. Eventually though, he starts to physically put aside anything he is doing, showing that you have his full attention.

𐂂 There are also times when you (and the rest of the hotel) notice that your portion in meals that he cooked has significantly more than what the others have on their plates. Anyone who complains gets told that they were only imagining it by Alastor.

𐂂 Alastor also gradually becomes more lenient with you, letting you get away with a lot more than you should. Steal his monocle? He'll wear his glasses as he searches for you in the hotel. Break something by accident? He'll be by your side telling you to be more careful as he picks up every broken piece before you hurt yourself.

𐂂 Adjustment is key, I can see the other party doing more of it but he also makes an effort to meet you halfway. Are you particularly touchy? He doesn't get it but he knows it makes you happy so he makes an effort to accommodate you.

𐂂 Words of affirmation? Since he gets to see you get all flustered he's up for it! He finds you adorable whenever you do.

𐂂 Alastor tries for you, tries to navigate all of those unfamiliar territories that he's never had the chance to explore to ensure that you don't feel like the only one in your relationship. It does feel like it sometimes, I won't sugarcoat it, Alastor at heart is a man cold and sharp on the edges, but he isn't Alastor if he wasn't and he still cares for you all the same even if he doesn't show it.

𐂂 I'd say the most romantic part of the day for the both of you would be reading together in his room, fire crackling as you sit on the floor (much to Alastor's protest) while you lean against Alastor's chair. Sometimes he sneaks a peek into your book just to see what you were reading out of curiosity, and you'd rather not tell him that you could see him doing it from his reflection through the small mirror he had hanging by one of his shelves.

𐂂 Pet names for days! Yes he does call you chere, next question please. Pet names become more frequent the closer you two become, although, the more personal nicknames would be said behind closed doors. The most he'll call you in public would be darling, he didn't need to air out every part of his life and you both were content at that. Also, call me crazy, delusional even, but hear me out here sharks:

You were sitting by the fire, with Alastor still complaining that sitting on the floor was nowhere near as comfortable as you said it was, you only laughed lightly at how much of a fuss he's kicking up.

"I won't die a second time just because I decided to sit on the floor Al. Besides, you're a lot closer if I sit here. I like it like that. So let me have this one, please?" You don't know why, but he stops in the middle of his tangent. Something about what you just said struck something in him that got him laughing softly, even going so far as to ruffle your hair ever so gently.

"Oh, you dear old thing. I suppose I can't stop you." He eventually takes his hand back and goes back to reading as he hums together with the faint melody of jazz in the air.

𐂂 Alastor helps you dress up if you ask, need help with a zipper you can't quite reach? Hold his staff for a moment while he does. Can't pick between two things? Ask him and he'll give you his opinion, he'll often say you'll look just as lovely wearing either one but he does have his choice.

𐂂 You don't sleep in the same rooms unfortunately or fortunately depending on how you see it, if you're a part of the rehabilitation program you both would have a separate room of your own. Neither of you made any plans of asking Charlie to move you to his room or vice versa either since you were both unprepared for whatever questions she may have so you both agreed to put it off, there really was no urgency or need to stay in the same room anyways.

𐂂 Letters! Events like Valentine's Day never interested Alastor, there was no one to spend it with so he never needed to worry about it. But with you in the picture he starts to think otherwise, you both rarely ask for anything from the other so gifts would have to be purely given by initiative, and now was the perfect time. It takes Alastor an almost embarrassingly long amount of time to settle on writing you a letter, a heartfelt one dedicated to thanking you for being a part of his afterlife, for being someone he can trust, and for making the days less monotonous for him. Imagine his surprise when he hands you a letter only for you to give one of your own. You both share a laugh and settle down by the fire, reading your letters together as Alastor sits down on the floor together with you just this once to humor you he says.

𐂂 All in all, it takes a while, but with time, patience, and I mean a lot of it, you'll get there.

╭┉┉┅┄┄┈•◦_•◦❥•◦_

Interested in hearing me yap even more? Give Signed, Alastor a go if you have the time. It's about a bat and a deer faffing around until they sort their feelings out.

[simmir99]

Welcome to 4616 Melrose

My spin on playing For Rent without playing For Rent... who has time to load screens for random visits or woohoo?! ;)

6 singles living in this luxury residence will the primary scene for my NEW LP - The Girl Next Door.

I loved Melrose Place back in the day and it definitely influenced my LP a bit, but this residence is nothing like the one from the TV Show. This luxurious living space will have shared spaces including a kitchen, game room, rec room, gym, yoga studio, and a rooftop lounge with breathtaking views of San Myshuno. Every suite has a private bedroom, bath and living room. Some suites include an office space or walk in closet, but all are fabulous in their own right.

Original apartment building is by the one and only AMAZING @bojanastarcevic and can be found HERE

My renovated version of this build will not be shared. It is a very heavy CC load, 5 GB to be precise. I clearly went all out!

Let the shenanigans begin!!

[violetsiren90]

The Light of Your Eyes

Pairing: best friend's younger brother!Changbin x f!Reader

Genre: one-shot; friends to lovers; smut and fluff; hurt/comfort

Summary: Can the gentle touch of an unexpected pair of hands on your body heal the wounds of your soul?

Sequel: Arms Around Me

Content warnings: 18+ (minors, dni), age gap romance (consenting adults); mentions of break-up and unhealthy past relationship dynamics; depression and anxiety symptoms (mild); MC has self esteem struggles, some are body-image related; the ex was low-key emotionally abusive tbh 😒; depictions of alcohol consumption (no drunkenness); depictions of food and eating (MC has a moment of negative thought patterns in regards to food consumption); gaming/watching movies; emotional breakdowns; kissing (so much kissing, guys); Fluffy fluffy FLUFF 💕; making out; interrupted shenanigans; cuddling; shirtless Binnie 👀; strong and gentle Binnie 🥺💘 ; working through FEELINGS 😅 ; breast play; nudity; oral sex (f. receiving); feedbag position; confessions and new beginnings.

Word Count: ~9300

Author's Note: Well, here it is - my first Binnie fic! I wanted to make it as sweet and sexy as he is...which, I know, is impossible, so I gave it my best shot! Hopefully, it's something worthy of his face-claim. I'm not going to make any judgements as to whether I feel it fits the bill, but rather like the man himself, tell you to be the judge of your own opinions! Jutdae!! 😂💗 But in all seriousness, if you decide to read this story, thank you! I hope it brings you something warm and fuzzy!

*The poem at the beginning is an original, and is what inspired this story!

Acknowledgements: I cannot thank @moni-logues enough for beta reading this for me, and for all her hype and humor and general human decency - this story wouldn't be what it is without her! 💖

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

    

the

Bright color of my laughter and the

Melody of the curve of my hips and the

Soft velvet of my irises

     seemed

To have taken their first breath,

Opening gently - like flowers perfuming my soul

- When bathed in the light of your eyes.

"Changbin? What are you doing here?"

     "I could ask you the same question," he says with a little smirk, whipping a dish towel over his shoulder as he shuffles back to let you in.

     Fair enough, you suppose. You are showing up without notice. Not that you ever need to give his sister any notice - as your best friend, there's a key with all the others in your purse that unlocks the door you're closing behind you. You wouldn't have even knocked had his car not been parked in the driveway.

     "Where's Nari?" you ask, glancing at the gaming console hooked up to the massive flat-screen, and a bullet blender cup half filled with something thick, pale and probably protein-packed sitting on the coffee table.

     "She went out of town for the weekend," he calls, heading back toward the dining area. "Last minute work thing." 

     Damn. 

     Your apartment is boring and barren and lonely. You wanted to hang out. You've been coming around more than usual – almost as often as when you were in grad school together. But Nari had her own life, you understood. You had your own life too.

     And then three months ago, on New Years Eve, your long-term boyfriend called it quits. It wasn't as if you were heartbroken. Not really. The relationship had been sick and slowly dying. But returning to a life lived in solitude was proving a difficult adjustment – especially navigating the new and constant stillness which left you the mental space and dexterity to run up against the shadows of wounds unhealed. And you didn't feel like growing into your EQ. You felt like distracting yourself. So you ended up at your bestie's place more often than not, these days.

     You sigh, trailing toward the kitchen. You won't stay long - if her younger brother is house sitting, he'll probably have people coming over. It's Friday night, after all, and he's twenty-four years young.

    The sound of running water, and music from a little speaker playing a catchy beat laced with fast-paced rap draws you into the warmly-lit, open kitchen. You recognize the voice on the track.

     "This new?" you ask, dropping your bag on a barstool and rounding the island to where Changbin is up to his elbows in suds at the sink. He's in a black band tee and bright blue joggers, his curly dark hair unstyled.

    He looks over his shoulder and nods.

    "What do you think? Wait, no, lemme start it over..."

     You smile to yourself as he hastily dries his hands and whips out his phone, pulling the track back to the beginning. He braces himself against the edge of the sink, gnawing on his bottom lip as he bobs his head with the lyrical punches and runs. 

     You smile to yourself, leaning your back against the counter beside him.

     "This is good, Bin," you nod earnestly. 

     "Yeah?" he asks, returning to his soapy task.

     "It really is. Hyunjin's pretty damn fast. Not as fast as you, but who is?" 

You grin, bumping your hip into his side.

     He smirks down into the bubbles.

     He's wanted to make music for as long as you've known him, and even fifteen years ago he could spit out a diss track that would have you wetting yourself laughing. He and his buddy, Hyunjin, met in high school and started messing around with music senior year. They committed to the dream, and both worked full-time gigs - Hyunjin as a tattoo artist and Changbin as a personal trainer - while promoting their artistry in their spare time. Production was a tough road to take when they were counting on nothing but raw talent and guts, but you'd always been an unflinching supporter.

     "We've got a gig next Saturday...at The Eight Ball," he remarks, looking over at you as a proud smile presses a tiny dimple into his bread cheek.

     "What?!" you squeal, turning to smack him on the arm. "Dude, that's fantastic! Oh my god, congratulations!"

     "Thanks, and ouch!" he replies, rubbing his arm with a pout that you ignore. It couldn't possibly have hurt him, not with those biceps.

     He moves to the fridge, a grin still plastered on his face.

     "You should come!" he urges over his shoulder as he appraises his sister's stash before grabbing an energy drink. "I know the boyfriend isn't into rap, but you could come with Nari..."

     You scoff softly.

     "Doesn't really matter what he likes anymore," you mumble bitterly.

     Changbin freezes as he's about to crack open the beverage in his hand.

     "Wait, what? Did you guys...is that over?"

     You purse your lips and nod. Changbin looks completely taken off guard in a way that surprises you. 

“When did that happen?”

You reach back to clutch at the cold tile of the countertop.

“Beginning of the year.”

He scratches his head.

“Nari didn’t…why didn’t you say something?”

You shrug, your eyes falling. For reasons you'd never considered, you’d rarely brought your ex around or even brought him up to Changbin. 

He turns to the still open fridge and swaps out his energy drink for two beers, opening both and sliding one across the island between you.

     "How you holding up?" he asks in earnest concern, a little furrow appearing between his dark brows.

     You want to tell him that you're fine - it's what you've been telling everyone else - but from the way he holds your gaze before letting his eyes search your face, he's looking for a real answer. You pull your lip between your teeth. You're not ready to form the words that spell the truth. He sees it.

    "Ah," he waves dismissively, "Fuck that guy. You're too good for him anyway. What an idiot."

      You blink, a little smirk tugging at your lips.

     "You don't have to hate on him just because we're-"

     "I'm hating on him because I hate him," he stares at you unflinchingly, taking another swig of his beer. "He wasn't good to you, didn't make you happy. I'm glad he's gone. Seriously, fuck him."

     You didn't expect that sort of reaction out of Changbin. Not that you expected anything, but the strong, certain tone he took in regards to your ex's unworthiness has a tiny little warmth glowing in your chest. It was like him to feel strongly and take a stand, but to have his conviction aimed at you...

     "Thanks, Bin," you murmur softly, hiding your smile behind your beer.

     The young man nods, and his lips part as if to speak when his phone buzzes in his pocket. As he answers the call - clearly, from the nature of his greeting, one of his buddies - you're reminded that you’re trespassing on his Friday night. Draining your beer, you grab your bag and slip out of the kitchen. 

     You huff a little sigh as you pull on your shoes, lingering listlessly for a moment before pulling open the door. The thought of going home has your stomach churning. You can't go back and be alone there. 

You can't.

     You have to.

     How pathetic could you possibly get? you consider sickly, staring out into the darkness. Your self-loathing and mounting anxiety battle for dominance as you will yourself to take the step over the threshold that will carry you to your car…

     Click.

     The door swishes shut, and you blink in confusion before you note a bulky arm stretched over your shoulder, hand pressed to the wooden frame below the peephole.

     You turn into Changbin's frame and he jostles backwards, hand dropping to your shoulder.

     "Where do you think you're going?" he asks, a little smirk playing on his lips.

     You try to get your bearings as you resurface from the flash flood of inner turmoil, blinking up at him in confusion.

     "Uuhh...home?" you answer, jerking a thumb back toward your intended exit.

     Changbin shakes his head. 

     "You just got here."

     "Well...I came to see Nari but she's gone, so..." 

     When the faintest shadow of hurt seems to flicker over his features at your words, you stammer to clarify.

     "Bin, it's Friday, I- you've got plans, right? I don't want to be in the way...Like, it's really nice seeing you don't get me wrong, but, it would suck to have one of your sister's random friends underfoot if you're...if..."

     You trail off. He's watching you in amusement now, arms crossed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth, one eyebrow cocked just a little higher than the other.

     "What?" you press him, now a bit self-conscious at your rambling and still on edge from the surging anxiety of moments ago. 

     Damn, what was with you? You'd been a mess lately, and now you couldn't even get your words out with Nari's kid brother?

     "I do have plans."

     Changbin's words interrupt your muddled self-assessment. You glance up at him.

     What? Okay, that's what you had been trying to...

     "I plan to kick your ass at Super Smash Bros Brawl," he quips, turning to round the couch and settle in front of it before reaching for the blue controller discarded on the coffee table.

     Huh?

     You watch him start up the game and move through selections. Shuffling toward the back of the couch, you place your hands on it. He wants to hang out? Now that he found out you'd been dumped. Nari's away, so he's falling into stride, you think to yourself. You sigh. You should be grateful. Instead, you feel like a burden.

     "Um, Bin..." you murmur, "You don't have to do this..."

     "Do what?" he asks without looking back. "I'm not going easy on you, if that's what you mean. And I'm using Kirby - nonnegotiable."

     Your heart melts a little as your eyes rest on him. He's always been a good guy, and it was like him to do this sort of thing - look out for someone when they were feeling low. Leaving simply because you don't feel worthy of his care and attention risks hurting him more than you.

     You slowly slip out of your shoes and cross into the living room, retrieving a red controller from atop the console before sinking onto the carpet beside him. You toggle through your choices before landing on Link. Changbin glances over at you disparagingly. 

     "Link sucks."

     "Kirby sucks."

     "Hey!" Changbin, practically shouts in your ear, "Don't insult my widdle cutie guy..."

     You grimace theatrically at the baby talk.

     "Don't ever do that again."

     "Or what?" Changbin challenges as he immediately unleashes a combo move that has your character hurtling toward the edge of the battle stage.

     You hop around, avoiding him and trying out different button combos. It's been forever since you played this game. Your ex had been a Halo enthusiast. You were never big on first person shooters, but you tried to get into it for his sake. He hadn't the patience to help you learn, though, and after a couple of sessions of grimaces and apologies on your behalf mumbled into his headset, he'd stopped taking you up on your offers to join him. 

     Kirby darts back and forth across the screen after you on stubby pink legs. Eventually you get the hang of things and are returning his attacks, though he easily bests you in an embarrassingly short sequence of moves.

     "Sorry, I'm no good at video games," you mumble apologetically. 

     The smug look falls from Changbin's face.

     "Why are you sorry?" he raises a brow, dropping his controller into his lap, a little smile still playing on his lips.

     You shrug. His smile fades.

     "Who says you're no good?"

     Shit.

     You shift your focus to the screen and toggle for a new character.

     "Best two out of three."

     You can feel his eyes still on you as you opt for Princess Peach.  

     Two out of three turns into five out of eight, and around eleven out of twenty, the doorbell rings. When Changbin turns in surprise toward the sound, you take the opportunity to deliver a critical blow, winning your first match of the night. He rolls his eyes as you giggle wickedly and moves to answer the door.

     You pull your phone from your pocket reflexively to check the socials you've deleted, before sighing and tossing it across the room to land on the carpet with a thud.

     "Did you just throw your phone?" 

     Glancing over your shoulder, you catch him shooting you a quizzical look over a stack of pizza boxes tall enough to feed a small army. Clambering to your feet you trail after him into the kitchen.

     "You do have plans, you liar!" you elbow him as he opens the top box and pulls out a slice, hissing as the melted cheesy overflow burns the tips of his fingers.

     "Ow!" he snaps up a napkin and cradles it under the steaming piece of pizza, shaking his other hand before holding up his fingers in front of you.

     "Blow on 'em," he whines.

     You raise your eyebrows.

     "You're joking."

     He pouts and you want to laugh. This big, grown man is seriously going to give you the lip right now?

     "That's what you get for having no patience, Bin..." you tsk disapprovingly. 

     He lets out a little disappointed sigh.

     "Meanie..." he grumbles, and lets his hand fall.

     You return your focus to the obscene amount of food now stacked on Nari's kitchen table. 

     "So, I'm sure people are going to start showing up, so I'm just gonna..."

     Changbin hands you a paper plate with two slices of pizza and heads to the fridge where he fishes out two more beers. You stare at the plate in your hand.

     "I...Bin..." 

     "What, you don't like sweet potato?" he asks with a smirk, cracking open a can and handing it to you. 

     You blink at him in confusion. 

     "Please enjoy this meal compliments of Han Jisung, who never remembers to update the address on his delivery app. Now, load up on pizza and let’s get back to it because I'm not trying to let you act like you came out on top from winning that last match on a fluke."

     You scoff at his last remark. Watching him pile several slices onto his plate, you take a bite of yours. It tastes good, and you realize as it hits your stomach that you haven't eaten all day. When was the last time you ate a real meal? When was the last time you wanted one? 

     "Noona?" 

     Changbin's voice makes you realize you had zoned out and when you blink up at him, there's just nine inches of disposable dinnerware between you. His lips are pursed and his eyes trace your features, their gaze gentle but searching. 

    "You alright?" he asks.

     There it is again; the concern. He isn't just checking in. His voice is soft and low, like his eyes. As a rule, Changbin's voice is strong, resonant - saying everything from his chest without even trying. So when he's gentle, when he pulls himself back...

    "Do you miss that guy?" he murmurs.

     "No!" 

You say it so quickly.

     Changbin nods.

     "I'm just..." Fuck, why are you suddenly so emotional? "I think I'm...adjusting. Y'know?"

     He nods again slowly. Then he reaches up and touches your face, dragging his thumb over the side of your mouth and suddenly your brain waves flat-line. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but before you can even process what's happening, he drops his hand to swipe it on a napkin.

     "Had sauce on your face," he mumbles, and you can't read his.

     His mouth is tugged up in a small smile but somehow it looks sad, and his eyes look like they're still asking a question that was never really answered. Before you can consider any further, he picks up his plate and heads back toward the living room.

     You follow him, still half in your head.

     When you sit down next to him, there's something hanging unspoken in the foot and a half of space between your bodies. Something has shifted, gone taut. 

     Shit, had you made him uncomfortable? Why had you stared at him like a weirdo when he...wait, he touched you...

     Your eyes shift over to where he sits beside you. He runs a hand through the wavy hair over his ear. Has he always been so beautiful? He turns quick enough to catch you staring and you put your plate out of your lap. The pizza smells so good but suddenly you can't touch it.

     Changbin initiates another round, which you lose in record time. Your stomach grumbles.

     "You better eat if you're going to have any hope of beating me again," he goads, finishing off his third slice to abandon the crust with the others on his plate before launching another game.

     "I had enough," you deflect, pushing your plate toward him.

     "You took two bites."

     "I need to cut back."

     "Like...go on a diet?"

     "Yeah."

     His brows furrow and his tongue slips between his lips as he sends Kirby into a hammer flip that lands as a critical hit and you wince.

"What have you eaten today?"

"What?"

     "You heard me."

     "I...I don't know. I..."

     Your stomach twists. The hunger is there, but so is the anxiety. The fear of being judged for eating too much or too quickly or...

     The game pauses. Your plate slides back toward you over the carpet.

     "The rest of that piece. Or whatever else you want. But something." 

     His voice is gentle but firm. You sigh.

     "Fine," you murmur, grabbing the half-eaten slice.

     You take a bite, and slowly raise your eyes to his as they regard you patiently.

     "Sorry," you mumble, covering your mouth, shifting away from him.

     "Why now?"

     "I make gross noises when I eat."

     "What? No you d-" 

     A hand tugs at your elbow. When you look back toward him his handsome face holds so many things, and you watch as they take turns seizing his features. Horror...pity...anger.

     "Who told you that?" he asks lowly, but it doesn't sound like a question. "Noona..."

     He squeezes your elbow.

     You feel everything you've been shoving down in your chest begin to well up. 

Fuck, no! 

Your lip trembles.

He's shifting to face you.

You shake your head and press your eyes shut.

Your hand is encompassed in a larger one.

     "It's lies, all of it," Changbin whispers with desperate conviction...and your dam breaks.

     He pulls you into his arms as you sob with abandon. One of his hands encircles your waist tugging you against his broad, warm chest, and the other slips to brush tenderly over your nape as you tuck your face into his neck. 

     "He's a liar...shhhh...he's a lying piece of shit," he insists earnestly, into your hair. "You're perfect. He's the one who needs to fix himself. You're so, so perfect." 

     Perfect? You let your heart hold the word in its palm for one precious moment before pushing it away. Your heart had never been one to accept gifts it didn't think it deserved.

     You weep and weep in his strong arms until you run out of tears, and then he holds you while you breathe. As the catharsis of your breakdown begins to settle in, you wonder at the comedown - a softer, warmer one than you've ever known – and you consider the loveliness that has broken your fall.

     Soft and firm, everywhere he touches you. And warm. So warm. Not just the heat radiating from his body like a furnace – the velvet rasp of his voice, the absolute and unfaltering nature of his embrace.

     Your hands move tentatively against his back. Soft cotton stretches and bunches between your fingers over his sturdy frame. Where your face is pressed to his collar every breath draws in a comforting combination of detergent and cologne. When you close your eyes and sigh, letting your weight sink against him further, you feel his arms tighten in response. 

     "Sorry," you croak feebly.

     "Stop," he implores you, "Every time you apologize, I want to sock that guy in the face."

     "I...I'm so stupid, I didn't even really realize..."

     "No," his arms squeeze you again, "He had your trust. It was his job to protect you."

     Protected. That's how you feel right now. Safe. So, so safe. Letting him hold you and reassure you felt good...it felt right. But yet again, the voice in your mind that liked to remind you how much of a burden you always were speaks up in a sickly whisper.

     You pull yourself slowly from his arms and off his lap. Drawing yourself up to stand, you wipe your hot cheeks, puffy red eyes finding his like the needle of a compass. Unprepared for what awaits you in his gaze, your knees nearly give out beneath you.

     Changbin is looking up from where he kneels before you, the yearning in his eyes unchecked as they burn with  an unasked question and an unspoken promise.

     "I should go," you whisper, barely able to form the words.

     "Don't," he says, standing.

     "If I stay I'll just wreck your night," you mumble.

     "You could never," he insists, lips tugging into a little smile. His eyes are still pleading.

     "Changbin..." you breathe, suddenly drowning again in the fizzy serotonin his words ignite in your chest. "You don't want..."

     "You let me be the judge of what I want."

     His hands find your arms and he pulls you in. There are centimeters between you. His eyes rest on your lips. Your heart hammers in your ears as your brain begins to malfunction the way it had when he touched your face...

     "D-do I have something on my-"

     Mouth? His.

    The whole of your being floods with something beautiful and ineffable at the touch of his lips and no voice, no doubt, no force in the world could be stronger than the one that pulls you into him. Your arms fly up to wrap around his neck and tug yourself impossibly closer. His hands drop to your waist, pressing desperately in kind, and your bodies mold together. You flush with heat, sparks igniting in your belly and skittering through your veins as his lips move against yours. He stumbles back, pulling you with him as his knees buckle at the edge of the couch, and your body spills over his lap.

Your fingers card into his hair.

His hands drop to the back of your hips.

Your tongue brushes his bottom lip.

He moans.

     At the gorgeous, deep sound from his chest, you pull back, fighting the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth. What the fuck is happening right now? You don't get much time to consider as his head falls against the backrest and his eyes flutter open.

     "Sorry," he grins bashfully. The tips of his ears burn pink.

     "Now who's apologizing for no reason?" you tease, pressing your hands to his chest.

     He smiles so sweetly in return you feel you might physically melt. And then the smile fades and the lids of his eyes grow heavy and he leans up to claim your mouth.

     His lips taste the same as a moment ago, but their press is slower, hungrier. His hands are powerful and assertive as they hook under your thighs and pull your hips flush against his own in a single tug. You gasp softly against his lips and you feel his smirk. You feel his smirk and something else - something beginning to press up into your ass through your jeans.

     Licking into his mouth, you push down, grinding your hips over his in a slow, deliberate undulation. The groan that falls from his lips unlocks something inside of you that needs to know every sound he makes and how to elicit them. Your mouth drops to his neck.

     Suddenly, he's gripping your waist and pivoting to lay you on the cushions, slotting himself between your legs. You're still dizzy from the sudden rush of movement, when your legs curl around his hips and over his ass and–

     A loud buzzing from the coffee table has you mourning the press of Changbin's lips to your throat as he glances at the caller ID. 

     "Shit!" he scrambles to sit up, hand still gripping your thigh above your knee when he presses the phone to his ear.

     "Hey," he runs a hand through his hair. "What? Nothing. No, I didn't forget. I will, I will."

     You recognize his tone of voice. There could only be one person on the other end of the line. You sit up, your head beginning to clear as the reality of the situation washes over you.

     "Okay, yeah. Yeah, yeah. Be safe. Love you." 

Changbin presses the end-call button and tosses the phone onto the cushion beside him. He leans back against the couch and claps his hand against your leg with a sigh.

     "She really knows how to wreck a moment for me."

     You crack a wry smile.

     "I mean, it's probably for the best that we don't desecrate your sister's couch."

     His eyes widen as horror, disgust, and amusement wage war across his features. You burst into a fit of giggles. He feigns a gag. You laugh so hard that you snort.

     "S-sorry," you clap your hand over your mouth, still tittering while your ears heat in embarrassment.

     Changbin's face softens again. He reaches for your hand and pulls it from your face, threading his fingers through yours.

     "Cut it out."

     "What? I can't be embarrassed about snorting like a pig?"

     "No. It's cute," he smirks.

     "It is not!"

     "Mhm. Everything you do is cute."

     He glances over at you, a lopsided smirk on his perfect lips, his eyes sparkling. He means it.

     You fluster, gaze dropping to your enjoined hands, and concentrate on tracing little patterns on the back of his with your thumb. He sighs.

     "Wanna watch a movie?"

     The request takes you by surprise and your heart squeezes. If it was any other guy, the night would have been over. For the fourth time tonight, you had been about to head for the door, and for the fourth time, Changbin makes you feel wanted. So you stay.

     You grab a big, fluffy blanket from the basket in Nari's room, and when you return, Changbin has the lights dimmed and Your Name ready to go on the TV. You smile as you settle in beside him, tossing half the blanket over his widespread legs.

     "We don't have to watch this just because it's my favorite, you know," you insist, but he shakes his head.

     "Taki's ma' boy," he smirks, shooting you a glance as he presses play on the remote.

     You're not quite sure what it means, but you feel your heart skip a beat just the same.

You love this movie. You love that you've seen it enough times that you can talk through it. You love that Changbin is more than willing to talk over the film himself. You're not certain when it happened, but by halfway through the movie his arm is stretched out behind your shoulders and your head rests on his bicep.

     "Do you remember seeing this together in the theater?" he asks suddenly, tilting his head toward yours.

     You grin.

     "You cried and Nari gave you shit about it," you recall.

     "You bailed me out. Told her all the sniffling was you. Never even teased me about it either."

     Changbin smiles down at you, his eyes sentimental.

     Butterflies flutter their delicate wings in your ribcage. How does he make you feel this way?

Your eyes dip to his lips for a moment. Sighing, you nuzzle into his shoulder, hiding your face as much as seeking his warmth. His arm slips off the back of the couch to curl around your shoulders and pull you into his side. The movie plays on.

     When the credits roll, Changbin stretches and yawns, and watching him it dawns on you that, working at a fitness center, he's an especially early riser.

     "We should call it a night," you offer, standing and stretching yourself, but you're tugged back down into Changbin's lap, yelping as you topple onto him.

     His arms encircle your hips as he regards you with a sleepy grin.

     "What, do I live here now?" you tease.

     "Stay the night," he urges, tightening his arms around you. "You really want to drive back now?"

     You chew your lip, eyes tracing over his face. This is all more than a bit unreal, and you haven't given yourself even one second to process what's happening, lest you utterly panic. All you know right now is that your little ship had been sinking and he had hauled you into a lifeboat. Everything outside of him seems like a raging sea.

     You nod.

     "Okay," you whisper, combing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll stay.” 

     His eyes dip shut at your touch and the butterflies flutter gently once more.

     A few minutes later, you take Nari's room and slip into a pair of her cotton shorts, which do basically nothing to contain your ass, and tug on a plain white tee that stretches snugly over your torso. How a big guy like Changbin could have emerged from the same genetic pool as his teeny tiny sister was beyond you. As you glance in the mirror, your heart sinks. You don't like how the tight fit is pressing you out everywhere you're most self-conscious. But, they are just pajamas, and they're all you have at your disposal.

     As you're about to head into the master bathroom to finish your nightly routine, you remember that the toothbrush and toiletries you keep on hand at Nari's are in the little half-bath attached to the guest room. You groan, glancing at yourself again in the mirror, and pull a blanket around yourself before crossing the hall.

     Hoping Changbin hasn’t yet fallen asleep, you knock hesitantly on the door. You hear the bed creak before the door opens to reveal a head of mussed hair and hands scrubbing over bleary eyes. But it's not what you notice. Your apology for rousing him dies on your lips as your eyes glue themselves to his bare chest. Blinking dumbly, your eyes climb from his soft stomach subtly rippling with the presence of strong abdominals up to a pair of impressive pecs with wide-set, dusky nipples. His flannel pajama pants settle at his hips, accentuating how his body broadens as it rises from his waist to his full chest and wide shoulders flanked by bulging biceps. Thick. He's so fucking thick you could bi-

     "...Noona?" he rumbles, his voice husky from sleep. "What's wrong?"

     "Nothing...sorry..." you rush out, ripping your gaze up to his. "My toothbrush is in your room – I mean! in your bathroom. That's where I usually stay, so...but I didn't think you'd be asleep. Sorry, I can just..." 

     He rubs over one of his eyes with his palm as he steps aside.

     "You can grab it."

     Right. You shuffle in awkwardly, trying not to step on the blanket dragging around your feet. As you cross the dark room, you try not to dwell on the rumpled sheets of the bed that speak of his body having lain between them, or the soft smell of his cologne hanging in the air. You quickly retrieve the little toiletry bag and, as you move to squeeze past Changbin at the door, he eyes the fluffy shroud you're clutching to your chest.

     He raises a sleepy eyebrow.

     "I'm sure Nari has pants you could..."

     "I'm wearing pants!" you bluster, "They just...don't fit."

      You move out of the doorway to make your way back to your room, but a hand cups the side of your face and turns it as soft lips meet your forehead. 

     "Good night, noona," he murmurs with a little smile before retreating back into his room.

     You stand in the hall, staring at his door, the butterflies absolutely aflurry.

     Despite your best efforts, you can't sleep. Your mind is full of the last five hours. Full of Changbin.

     He had kissed you. You had kissed him back. And it had felt...

     You roll from your side to your back, sighing up at the dark ceiling. You chew on your lip as you remember breaking down and his arms around you. You would usually feel regretful and ashamed after baring yourself like that to someone. You despised moments of weakness. But you couldn't bring yourself to hate the moments in his arms. You didn't regret them. In fact, you wanted him to hold you again. You wanted to feel vulnerable in his hands, and you wanted him to keep you safe.

     You feel heat rush up from your neck as you recognize these feelings.

     You must be absolutely shameless, you conclude in wonder. You should be freaking out right now - this was Changbin, for Christ's sake – Nari's brother! You should be wondering what happens next, and what all of it means...but even so you can’t bring yourself to care. All your mind can focus on is how his arms felt like waking up after a nightmare to song birds and soft sunlight.

     After an hour or so of tossing and turning, the salty pizza from dinner has you parched and slipping out to the kitchen for a drink. You pull a glass from the cupboard and fill it at the fridge, gulping down the contents to refill it again. Suddenly, you feel two strong arms snake around your waist and you start, sloshing your water and smacking the back of your head into the man holding you. You hastily set your glass down and turn in his arms as he lets out a groan, one of his hands releasing you as it flies up to cup the front of his face in pain.

     "Bin, oh my god! Are you okay? You scared me!" you chide with a chuckle as you reach up to push his hand away and brush the tips of your fingers across his nose. 

    He pouts down at you and you smile.

     "Did I wake you?"

     He huffs.

     "Yeah. To get your toothbrush. Then I couldn't go back to sleep."

     "Sorry," you groan, still stroking over where you had struck his face. "Does it hurt?" 

     He nods.

     "Kiss it better," he mumbles cutely.

     You roll your eyes, but lift your lips to comply when suddenly he interrupts the motion with the soft press of his mouth to yours. It's slow and sweet, and you're struck all over again with how quickly you melt at his touch - a sensation you cannot imagine ever growing accustomed to, but to which you are fairly certain you are in danger of growing entirely addicted.

     "Bin..." you whisper against his lips, "Bin, what are we-"

     "Liar," he murmurs, pulling back.

     Your mouth parts in confusion as you stare up at him, still drunk on his lips.

     "You said the clothes didn't fit. You should wear this all the time," he smirks as he squeezes low on your waist.

     Your cheeks heat as you remember what you're wearing, but you don't have long to be anxious over it as he presses his lips to your nose...the corner of your mouth...your jaw. You tremble as you lean into him, fingers splaying over his warm, bare chest.

     "Let me show you," he whispers against your skin.

     "Sh-show me...what...?"

     He draws back, pressing his forehead to yours.

     "How perfect you are."

     You still, eyes flicking up to his. They're dark and tender and pleading. You let out a little shuddering breath.

     "I...you don't have t-"

     His arms hold you closer, gentle but insistent.

     "Let me," he whispers, the tip of his handsome nose brushing over the dip of your cupid's bow. "Please. I want to."

     You swallow, eyes dropping to his lips. You want it too, you find. You want his hands and lips and eyes all over you, bringing warmth everywhere they meet your aching body. You nod and take his lips again with yours. 

     "Yeah?" he murmurs against them.

     "Yeah," you breathe, slipping a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair.

     He groans in response, deepening the kiss as he licks at your parted lips and when your tongues brush, sparks burst in your belly. You feel it all slipping, the masks, the walls - every barrier you hold up to shield yourself from not being enough. His arms are strong and his lips are tender and you can't focus on anything but the perfection of being so utterly held.

     His mouth moves to caress your jaw, under your ear, down the column of your neck, and suddenly you feel the edge of the counter pressing into the small of your back. His hands grip your waist and he hitches you onto the tiled surface with ease. It's cold against your bare legs, but you don't have more than a second to register the discomfort as Changbin nudges his way between your knees. He runs his hands over your thighs as his eyes trail from your panting lips to your lightly heaving chest.

     You feel your nipples pebble under his gaze and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his eyes glinting with mischief as he runs a hand up your side, over your shirt, to rest under the swell of your breast. He flicks a thumb over the hardened bud and you whimper and jump. He laughs softly, his smirk spreading into a full smile as he squeezes your breast and brings his eyes to yours.

     "Your pretty body likes me, noona," he puffs proudly, massaging you deftly through the soft cotton of the tee.

     You don't have a witty retort. Your body likes him so much that it frightens you. And with the deep affection you already feel, have long felt, for him...

     You reach to gently tangle your hand again in his coarse, dark curls. He glances up, a sweet little smirk tugging at his pretty lips again. 

     "Bin..." you sigh.

     "Hmm?" he hums as he slips his hands to your bottom and tugs you forward so that you're flush against him.

     You dip your head and your lips ghost his.

     "Nothing," you whisper, and you kiss him again. Again and again.

     His hands slide from your ass to slip beneath your shirt at your lower waist and he kneads the soft flesh above your hips.

     "So soft. Feels so good," he groans into your mouth.

     You moan as the walls of your pussy contract. You're beginning to ache, beginning to drip – and his words seem to affect you as intensely as his touch.

     He moves his lips to latch onto the soft skin of your neck and suck, his hands bunching your shirt up and up until his mouth pops free from your skin and he's pulling the thin garment over your head and tossing it aside. The cool air pricks your skin and you become keenly aware, for the briefest moment, that you are sitting on your best friend's kitchen counter, stripped down to her sleep shorts, with her brother between your thighs. As your brain races to decide whether to find that incredibly arousing or absolutely panic-inducing, Changbin's cherry lips rewire your neurological pathways in favor of the former when they close around your right nipple. Your head lolls back, colliding with the cabinet door and it clatters. 

     "Shit..." you hiss softly, threading your hands into his hair and gripping it by the roots.

     Your eyes slip shut and you focus on the sensation of his warm tongue slipping over the peaks of your breasts, his strong, smooth palms cupping and caressing. And then you feel his little puffs of breath and the nudge of his nose at the valley of your chest as he groans and smushes your tits up to meet his face. 

     "I fucking live here now," he mumbles into the globe of your breast, and despite the heat of the moment, you softly laugh. You laugh and you feel his smile pressed to your skin.

     Then suddenly he's pulling you into his arms in a bridal carry. You know he's strong, as you wrap your arms around his neck, but can't push away a pang of self-consciousness as he bears your weight. 

     "Bin, I'm so heavy..."

     "You're not."

     "I don't want you to..."

     "Stop it," comes his voice in a soft, deep command as he halts in his tracks to kiss you.

     He kisses you and kisses you until you believe that he could carry you until the end of time, and then he takes you into the guest bedroom and sits you gently on the bed. The bed with the mussed sheets that smell like him. The sheets that he's leaning you into as you push yourself to the middle of the bed while he hovers over the top of your body, his lips never leaving yours.

     As he sinks down over you, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress has warmth licking through your veins. You move your hands to caress over his broad back, feeling his muscles ripple beneath your fingers as he shifts to prop himself up on his elbow. You use the free space to trace your hand down his chest and abdomen until you reach the waistband of his pants. If he'd just push himself a few inches up you could...

     He pulls away, just barely breathless, and his eyes find yours. He reaches down with his right hand to pull yours gently from between your bodies and to his lips, before threading his fingers through yours and pressing your joined hands into the sheets beside your head.

     "I want to eat you out."

     He says it so simply, so confidently, and you can feel more arousal gush to join what's already begun to paint your inner thighs. 

     "Fuck..." you breathe, your fingers trembling in his grasp.

     "Can I?" he asks, kissing your lips softly again.

     For a moment you're afraid of what saying yes will mean, of the intimacy of it all, of the possibility that you won't measure up, someway, somehow, or maybe...that you will - and what in the world you would do with that level of acceptance...

     You let out a shaky sigh, as you hold his gaze. It arrests you and washes over you. You remember his eyes as he knelt on the living room floor, and all they pleaded with you to disbelieve, to unlearn. 

     Yes. Yes...If it's him, you want it, whatever it means.

     You surge forward, pressing your lips to his, your hands weaving through his hair, pulling him in. He lets out a tiny whimper as you devour him, kissing him with determined abandon until you have to come up for air.

     "Yes, Bin, yes," you shudder into his mouth as he pants over you. “Yes I want you to.”

In answer, he presses one last tender kiss to your lips before moving to kiss down your body. He moves slowly, but with purpose, pressing an adoring mouth to every part of you that’s bared. He kisses your ear, your neck, your collarbones…he moves over your shoulders and down your right arm to the tip of each finger. He kisses your breasts and down your stomach. He kisses your belly button, and over your hips and down your left thigh. He kisses the inside of your knee, and bends your leg to kiss over your calf and down to your ankle. 

You can barely watch him, as he brushes his lips over you, but he flicks his eyes up to yours so often you don’t dare look away. There is something flickering in his gaze, something like a challenge - daring you to contradict, to doubt what he seeks to impress upon you - and you begin to feel something strange and new. Something you’d never found at the touch of a lover, blooming in your chest and unfurling like a proud little flower under the sun: the strong, heady beauty of esteeming yourself worthy of his desire. It terrifies you a bit, and the ugly voice that has heckled you so often tries to cast doubt, but Changbin’s lips and hands are too persistent and assured for the harbinger in your mind to linger long. And the tidal wave of lovely feelings crashing over you threatens to destroy the shabby prison your heart has lingered in for so long.

Changbin lays his head on your thigh as he brings his hand off the other to cup your pussy over the softness of your shorts. His groan is nearly as loud as yours when he rubs over your mound, and it makes you impossibly wetter. He’s so unabashed and liberal with reacting to what he enjoys, and he is clearly enjoying you as much as he ever has anything.

He moves to bring his face to your clothed cunt, hovering over you for a nanosecond to catch your eyes as he mouths down over you. Your jaw drops open, and when his teeth scrape dully over your clit, your hips jerk and you fist the sheets. Changbin pulls back with a smirk, and sits back on his knees between your legs. He pulls one of your legs up to lean against his shoulder as his hands instinctively knead over the muscles of your calf and thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, with a little smile.

You nod with one of your own.

“I’m gonna lift you, okay? You can hold onto my legs, but I’ll have you, so don’t worry.”

You bite your lip and nod, suddenly a little shy. Look at him. Where did he get all this confidence?

He drops your leg briefly to tug off your shorts and panties, cursing at how wet you are, and gently slipping two fingers to brush between your glistening lips and over your clit. You gasp at the sensation - his fingers deft, his touch soft but firm where you ache for him. And then, suddenly, he is sliding your legs back up to rest against his chest and shoulders. His hands slip down to your hips and he effortlessly tugs your ass over the incline of his thighs and flush with his abdomen. Your heart starts to thrum in your chest. His body is warm and sturdy against the soft plush of your ass. Heat floods your cheeks when you sense a slickness against him where your arousal has begun to smear against his stomach. He, however, is far less bashful. Widening the gap between your thighs, he dips his head down, inhaling deeply.

"Fuck…" he murmurs, squeezing your legs where he holds them. 

When he raises his eyes to yours again, they’re unlike you’ve ever seen. They’re dark and hungry and hooded in a way that nearly intimidates you. His expression is full of heat, and manly in its sudden gravity. He watches you as he slips his thumbs under your waist and, slowly with strong hands, pulls your hips up beneath his chin. Your legs bend at the knees and drape around the crown of his head. Your spine curves where your upper back is flush with his thighs, your arm on either side of his kneeling form, and as he embraces you tightly around the hips and waist, you feel nearly every ounce of your weight suspended in his hold. The blood rushes to your head where it lays against the mattress, your neck curving just shy of his knees, offering a clear view of his gorgeous face as he wastes no time in pressing his open mouth to your labia. 

Your core muscles flex in response, hips pressing higher against him as you feel ripples of exquisite pleasure trickle through your body from above. The smooth muscle of his tongue slips past your entrance and begins fucking into you. Your head swims, the slightest dizzying restriction of oxygen dampening your ability to focus on anything but the bliss of his hot, wet mouth. Being tasted has never felt this intense. You whimper, your hands reaching around his body to find purchase on his muscular ass. You feel the press of his throbbing erection into your back as his tongue fucks unhurriedly into you. He’s rock hard, and all for you. From the sight of your naked body, the feel of you in his hands, the taste of you on his tongue. From the sounds pouring off of your lips as he worships your sex. 

Your legs begin to shake. You’re so totally in his hands. He holds you, lavishes you, consumes you. Nothing stands between you and ecstasy, and you can feel your climax fast approaching as pleasure ebbs and flows like a crashing tide on the rhythm of his firm, languid strokes.

"Ch-Changbin! Nhhh!" you mewl, you voice throaty and muffled from your position. 

He growls against you and you nearly cum then. One of his hands drops to squeeze the soft mound of your right breast. Your cheeks burn, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead and neck. You can feel your pussy throbbing - hot and sticky and swollen with stimulation - as he devours it like the flesh of ripened fruit. His lips encircle your clit and suckle as the tip of his tongue flicks over the erect peak of your bud.

And then it all goes white. You lose all sense but feeling as you rock your hips up to meet him, the tension in your abdominals adding sinfully to the fluttering pulsating of your pussy. There’s nothing but you and him and his arms around you and his mouth against the most intimate parts of you as your orgasm washes over you in electrifying slow-motion, pulling you under a tidal wave of bliss for what seems like an eternity. Your lips part in a silent scream of his name, your eyes pressed shut, as he works you through the longest and most intense climax your body has ever experienced.

You feel him place one last sweet, gentle kiss to your cunt before moving the hand on your breast to one of your thighs as he guides you back down onto the bed. You’re panting and boneless as you watch him draw an arm over his cum-slicked chin and cheeks. For a moment he simply looks down at you, a victorious air about him as his eyes trace your sated features and his gorgeous chest heaves with labored breath, then he crawls forward on the bed, stretching himself out on his side next to you, his body flush with your own. He slips his hand over the soft skin of your belly and rubs it soothingly as he watches you with a little grin.

“You good?” he asks in a raspy murmur.

You reach for his face, bringing it to yours as you kiss him with what wherewithal you have. You pull away, still breathless.

“Am I good? Seo Changbin, I think I could fly.”

His answering smile is so filled with joy and pride and affection that you think you truly may have sprouted wings. You roll to your side to press yourself against him, your hand tugging at the waistband of his pajamas, but he takes your hand again in his.

“Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Tonight is yours.”

“Bin…”

“I’m yours.”

You blink up at him, his head resting on his hand, his eyes sparkling and soft.

“If you’ll have me,” he raises your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “You don’t have to answer right now. I know you’re going through a lot, and this is all…new.” 

He smiles again, glancing down as his features take on a boyish shyness.

  “But I care for you. And, however things work out,” his eyes lock with yours again, “I’ll always protect you.” 

Your heart stands still. There are things that are too deeply lovely for words to be wasted on them. Any words but three - three that are already deeply true, but which have begun to mean something beautiful and different tonight, burying themselves like a little seed in your heart that needs time to grow. So for now you let yourself cry tears that fall like raindrops in the sunlight, and drift to sleep with the steady beat of Changbin’s heart.

“Ay!” Nari’s voice cuts through the din of chatter as her hand shoots out to narrowly prevent a fellow patron from snagging the chair beside her. “Sorry, seats are taken.”

She takes a sip of her beer and stretches her short legs as far as they will reach across the two empty chairs beside her.

“The guys are gonna have to hustle if they’re gonna sit with us,” she says reproachfully, dark brows rising as her eyes scan the venue for the bodies that belong in the seats you have been desperately attempting to reserve for the last hour.

The Eight Ball is crowded to bursting, and you scan the stage for signs of the evening’s openers. Checking your phone, you find that it’s nearly eight. You also find a text that brings a smirk to your lips.

“What?”

You glance up at Nari, who’s staring at you suspiciously.

“Nothing…” you mumble, flipping your phone back over onto the table. You sip your cocktail through a straw.

“Are you texting him?”

You nearly choke on your drink.

“What? Who?”

“You know who,” Nari mocks, narrowing her eyes at you. “The jerkwad.”

“Oh my god, Nari, no!” you sigh, as your phone buzzes again. 

She glances at it.

“Then what was with the look? Who are you…”

“Are these for us?” a voice belonging to a smiling, dimpled young man in a black hoodie with a matching beanie pulled over his head saves you from further explanation.

“Jesus, Chris, finally,” Nari admonishes as he takes the seat next to you, pulling her legs off the remaining chairs to free them up for the other two men that follow behind him. 

The freckled blond pulls Nari into a side hug which she returns, booping his nose before leaning across him to peer menacingly at his friend.

“Yo, Jisung,” she barks, “If you’re gonna order several hundred pizzas, how about taking some with you next time? My fridge is still stuffed.”

The young man blinks wide, surprised eyes at her before his brain catches up with her scolding.

“Sorry, but it wasn’t my fault!” he insists poutingly. “I ordered them because Changbin asked me to and then he canceled gaming weekend ‘cause he had a girl over.” he grumbles, causing the other two to snicker.

“Nice,” Chris giggles.

This time you do choke.

Your eyes fly to your best friend, watching the barrage of questions bubbling up on her face when a voice cuts through the din, silencing the crowd and unknowingly saving himself for the time being.

“Good evening, Eight Ballers!” Changbin rasps into his mic as Hyunjin waves, as ridiculously beautiful as ever, beside him.

You look at Changbin’s eyes.

They’re bright and confident and determined. You smile and cheer when he finishes introductions. As the band hits the first few notes of the opening number, his gaze finds yours, and it’s full of so many things.

His eyes sparkle with seven days worth of secrets – of waking up to your eyes and arms, of a weekend of nothing but bare bodies and hearts, of weeknight phone calls until the wee hours of the morning…of a new way of caring for each other that you’ll eventually tell the others, but that is just yours for now.

As you look at him, so full of adoration, you hope you can offer him even a fraction of the new world he’s only just begun to share with you – and the reflection you see a little more beautifully each day in the light of his eyes.

-Fin-

[awkness]

Serial killer! Platonic! Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

As reader tries to adjust to their new life without their father, a number of concerning incidents occur, including off-putting behavior from your brother, prevents that from happening. But despite everything, you make a new friend. Surely, this can only mean good things for you, right? Things must be looking up!

Content warnings: implied murder, manipulation, domestic abuse, briefly mentioned alcoholism and child abuse, and general yandere shenanigans. If I missed anything here, please let me know :3

Authors note: lmao I have no excuse for being this late I'm just slow. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter but it got too long so I had to split it up. It feels like a bit of filler but I promise we'll get to the good stuff soon it just needs some set up. Part 3 should be the last part so I'll try not to be too slow uploading (<- lying)

There were very few things about your father you liked, but his house was one of them. It was something he had inherited from his father, who Ben would inherit as soon your father could be pronounced legally dead. It came with a master bedroom, two normal bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, the basement, and an attic.

The attic was something you had always been fascinated with as a child. It was spacious, fully insulated and even had an openable window. It could have been a bedroom all on its own. As a child, you had often daydreamed of moving your stuff up there, utilizing the bigger space for blanket forts and storing all the toys your little heart could desire. In reality, it was used in the same way the basement was, except it stored much more valuable items. Holiday decorations, clothes, old valuables that had no room to be displayed, and whatever family heirlooms your late father kept were shoved up above your head, taking space that could have been used for you. You had thought you had grown out of this fantasy, content with the room you had, but with your father gone and your brother running the house, the childhood dream had crept its way back into the front of your mind, tempting you with visions of a bigger, cooler room.

So, after working up the courage, you finally asked Ben if you could move up there. It surprised you just how easily he said yes.

And now you're here, Ben helping you sort through trash and treasure alike as you both clear out the room.

You pulled an unlabeled box from the seemingly endless pile, the top covered in dust and cobwebs. You try not to think about how many spiders are in the room with you now. Cleaning them out will be a trouble for another day.

The box opens easily, cardboard weak from age, a musty smell emanating from within. You look inside, only to be left dumbfounded. Why were there women's clothes in here?

"Hey, Ben, do you know whose clothes these are?"

Ben looks up from his own box, a vaguely confused look on his face. As he makes his way towards your box, you watch it drop into a frown.

"Those are moms."

"Oh." Is all you can say.

An awkward moment passes between you two as Ben stares into the box, face strange as he becomes lost in thought. You decide to break the tension.

"Why do you think he kept them?"

He looks away from the box and towards you, his body slowly beginning to relax.

"He was always a sentimental man, I guess that's reason enough for him."

You let out a snort. "What's there to be sentimental over? She cheated on him, divorced him, and then dumped us on him. She's not exactly a woman worth pining over."

"I'm not arguing with you, but you remember how he was. Couldn't ever let anything go."

He began rummaging through it, quickly getting to the bottom before closing it back up.

"Nothing but clothes. We should probably donate this."

You give a nod as you watch him put it in the growing donation pile. That was going to be such a pain to bring down to the car.

Instead of thinking about that, though, you turn your head to the box that Ben was searching through before you called him over.

"Is this one mom's too?"

Before you get an answer, you take a peek inside, only to once again be at a loss for how something like this could be in your home.

Inside was an assortment of strange objects. A broken polaroid camera, a stained photo album, and an array of metal objects like locks, deadbolts, and... were those shackles?

Before you could make out any more objects, Ben had made his way to you and reached over to close the flaps of the box.

"I doubt it, probably just more junk he couldn't throw away."

He turned around to you and smiled, hands holding the flaps shut.

"Want to do me a favor and go start bringing the donation boxes to the car?"

"Ugh, why do I have to bring them down?"

"Because you're the one who wanted to move up here."

You glared at him as his smile turned into an amused smirk, before you finally gave a huff and picked up a box from the pile.

"Jerk."

"Brat." The smile never left his face.

With only moderate trouble, you navigated your way down the stairs and out the door, making your way to the car. Unfortunately, you had only realized you forgot the keys when you tried to open the door to pop the trunk open.

You quietly mumble curses under your breath as you set the box next to the car, ready to make the trip back inside. Instead, you go completely still as you catch a look at the people across the street.

It was a small group of high schoolers your age, maybe older, who go to your school. They were standing the the yard across the street, a few houses down, talking together to throwing glances in your direction. Your ears strain as they try to make out their incoherent babble. They couldn't have known about your situation, could they? Or at least, what the official story was. It had been over a month since that happened, it doesn't make sense that they would be talking about it now. But you were just moving boxes out of the house such a short time after it happened. That looks suspicious, doesn't it? Of course it does. Why did you have to ask to move into the attic now?

You had been standing like a deer in headlights, openly staring for what felt like minutes before one of them seemingly made eye contact with you. You avert your gaze down as you feel your cheeks grow hot and your hands grow sweaty. A chorus of laughter erupts from the group.

Without thinking, you rush up to the door, fling it open, and slam directly into Ben as he was carrying. You hear it hit the floor as you speed walk past him.

"Wha- Hey! (Y/N)! What happened?"

You didn't reply. You barely even heard his words. Panic had fully taken over and kept you moving away from Ben, away from the door, away from the outside world, and all the judgemental people it contained.

You finally make it to your room, shutting the door behind you, and seating yourself on your bed, trying to get your bearings. 

Tears begin stinging your eyes as your shaky hands try and wipe them away. You wonder if they were still laughing at you.

A soft knock comes from your door, and your body shrinks inward, unprepared for the upcoming talk.

"Kid? Can I come in?"

You don't reply. You know Ben is going to come in anyway.

He waits a beat before opening the door, his face the picture of concern. His footsteps are quiet, and his movements gentle as he sits next to you. You find your body leaning away from him.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

You shrug, turning your head away from him. Even if you did want to talk, you couldn't trust your voice right now.

"Alright, that's fine, we can figure it out together. Was it something to do with mom's clothes?"

You don't move. Maybe if you don't answer, he'll leave and let you deal with your embarrassment in peace.

"The attic?"

A pause.

"Something in the box you were carrying...? Or maybe something outside?"

You stiffen, and immediately try to make yourself relax. Maybe he didn't notice?

"Does this have something to do with the neighbors?"

Oh. Nevermind.

Despite your best efforts, your body language must have given you away again. You hear the bed creak as he gets up, the blinds rustling a moment later as he gives a huff.

"It's those kids across the street, isn't it?" His voice takes on an edge of irritation, and you feel yourself curl inwards again.

The bed shifts as he takes his seat next to you again, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. His voice takes on the softer quality it had before.

"I can't help you if you don't help me, kid. Did they talk to you?"

You shake your head, trying to talk, but finding the words stuck in your throat.

"They-" Your voice falters and you clear your throat, barely able to speak above a whisper.

"They didn't have to. I could see them looking at me and laughing, I knew they were talking about me, just like all the neighbors do whenever they see us. It's like they know. And these-"

You sniff, snot beginning to run and throat burning as you talk. Ben squeezes your shoulder, and you continue.

"These people go to my school, Ben. They know me. When I have to go back, they'll talk and tell everyone and the whole school will know what happened. They'll treat me different, they'll ask questions, and I won't know what to tell them-"

Your quivering voice finally gives out, and you cover your face. Ragged, irregular breaths come out as you try to force back the wave of emotions you've just unleashed. Gently, Ben pulls you to his chest as he rubs your back, murmuring gentle reassurances you couldn't quite hear.

Moments pass until your breathing finally evens out, eyes dry but still red and puffy. You slowly pull back and he lets you, his face full of worry. His hand still remains on your shoulder, an ever-present weight.

"You've had this on your mind for a long time, haven't you?"

You give a feeble nod. The thought of having to return to school had been weighing on you, but you hadn't realized how bad it had been until now. The thought is almost enough to send you spiraling again.

"I don't want to go back."

Ben gives you a smile. "You don't have to."

Your mind freezes for an instant, any and all thought muddled into incohereency.

"What?"

"Why don't I sign you up for online school this year? I remember you talking about wanting to do it a couple of months back, so why not now?"

"I..."

Your brows furrow. You did tell Ben that you wanted to do online school a couple of months ago before summer started. But this wasn't a new wish. You had been dreaming of being homeschooled since you had dreamed of living in the attic. Troubles in finding friends and fitting in had always followed you throughout the years until you realized the futility of it all, and only dreamt of a home where you didn't have to leave, and Ben and you could spend your days in peace. But the reality of your father's abuse had made school a begrudgingly safe haven of yours and you had slowly given up on that dream, too. But now that it was fully within your hands, you found yourself hesitating. Why? There was no monster in your home anymore, you were safe, and there's no reason to say no.

"I don't know."

He smiled.

"It wouldn't have to be permanent, just for this year. And if you don't like it, I can reenroll you back into your old school, so your options are always open. Plus, you're right, (Y/N). I know how cruel kids can be, especially when they're confronted with situations and people they don't understand. I don't want you to face that if you don't have to."

You gnaw on your lip, unsure of what to say. Ben was right on all accounts, the things he was saying made sense, and yet you couldn't find yourself saying yes. Why couldn't you let yourself have this?

"Can I think on it?"

Ironically, it came out of your mouth before you could think at all.

He nodded, his good-humored smile still on his face. You let out a small breath, so glad to still see it there.

"Of course, kid, it's a big decision. Take your time."

He gave your shoulder one last pat before getting up.

"I'm going to move the rest of the boxes in the car and go drop them off. You want me to pick up dinner on the way back?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever."

"Alright. Rest up, I'll be back soon."

Unable to say much else, you nod as he gives you one last smile before he heads out the door, closing it behind him.

You rub your eyes, your body slowly unwinding from the tension just moments prior, until it gives in and you lay down on your bed.

With nothing else left to do, you crawl under your covers, the familiar comfort of the soft and worn fabric soothing your nerves. Distantly, you hear the sound of Ben's footsteps as he makes his way back and forth from the attic, the familiar and comforting sound lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was pretty uneventful. Ben was off at work while you continued clearing the attic, sorting out the junk and keepsakes, only occasionally getting scared by the stray spiders that had made their home in the crevices between the boxes.

By noon, everything was sorted, with the only thing left being to take the boxes to be donated or tossed in the trash. But you needed Ben to help you with that, so you found yourself heading down to the kitchen, heating instant noodles in the microbe, wondering what you were going to do until he got home.

Around this time is when you usually went to go check the mail, but since yesterday, the thought of having to leave the house left you with an uneasy feeling, tension building in your spine and shoulders the longer you thought of it. A part of you was ashamed that you couldn't even walk out to the mailbox without it being a big deal, and another, much larger part, found immense relief in the thought of abandoning the task altogether, and not having any more chance encounters like yesterday. The more you considered it, the more you found your body sagging in relief. Yeah, Ben can grab it when he gets home, you're sure he wouldn't mind. It's no big deal.

The microwave beeps and you grab the noodles, all thought of the outside quickly leaving your head.

You had just dumped the flavor packet in when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart, ashamed you were to admit, skipped a beat, and you froze mid-action, breath catching roughly in your throat. Who could that be? Maybe that was Ben, and he had just forgot his keys? No, that's stupid, he wouldn't be home this early, and he never forgets his keys. With no other answers coming to mind, you quietly set the packet down and got up to the door to peek through the peephole.

On the other side of the door stood one of your neighbors, a kid your age. You see him the most often out of all of your neighbors, often doing yard work and tending to the flowers in his front yard. He was also the guy you caught staring at you the most. Well, maybe staring wasn't completely accurate, but whenever you looked his way, you two would usually make eye contact before one of you shyly looked away. You didn't know why, and it played havoc on your nerves. He wore a hoodie despite the summer heat and had an envelope in his hand. He looked nervous.

You pull away and bring your hand to undo the locks before stopping.

For one glorious, tempting moment, you picture yourself turning around, going back to your noodles, and taking them upstairs and away from the door to eat in peace until Ben comes home.

Instead, you undo the locks and open the door.

Your neighbor looks slightly taken aback like he didn't expect anyone to answer. You try not to notice.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Oh, uh, hi! I'm Alex, your neighbor. I live right next to you, the house to the right, well- uh, my right, your left. The one with the red car and lawn gnomes out front?"

He gestures sheepishly towards his house, face nearing the complexion of a tomato.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm (Y/N)."

The social protocols of politeness take over, unable to fully pay attention as your mind stalls, still in a state of shock from the anxiety of the situation.

"(Y/N)? That's a nice name." He smiles at you before quickly looking at the ground.

He hands the envelope over to you, speaking as you look over it.

"Uh, I just wanted to drop this off. I think our mail got mixed up."

Sure enough, the envelope had your brother's name and address on it.

"Oh, thank you." You say lamely.

For a beat, you wonder if you should say something more. It felt wrong to just leave the conversation as it was and close the door, but what else were you supposed to say? Before you can think about it, he speaks again.

"I, uh, wanted to say that I heard about what happened to your dad, and I'm sorry."

Again, your heartbeat skips, and you stiffen, body alert, eyes wide. You probably look like a deer caught in headlights in front of him if he wasn't still looking at the ground. The thought would embarrass you if it weren't for the sharp spike of adrenaline hitting your veins.

"I... I had a dad like him too."

And just like that, your body pauses its panic response, and you find yourself fully focused on him as he continues.

"I thought it would be easier after me and my mom moved away, and it has been, but those kinds of experiences don't just go away, and I wanted to say that you aren't alone."

You still felt a little wired from the previous scares, you you felt a strange sense of ease slowly pass through you at his words.

You stare at him, as he stares down, no words passing between you two before you finally speak.

"Thank you."

You only hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"It has been rough, but it's been more of a relief than anything. It's nice not having to hide away in my room until he leaves."

He looks up, a small smile gracing his face as he finally relaxes.

"Yeah, it's nice not having to check to see if he passed out in the house again."

You find your lips quirking up. "Or having to check his pulse when he is passed out."

"Not having to worry about him throwing a fit whenever he runs out of beer despite him being the one who drank it all."

"Not having to constantly hide food in your room so you have a supply when he does throw his tantrums"

Alex gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Yours let you get food out of the kitchen? There was a lock on the fridge and pantry when I lived with mine."

Your smile widened into one of disbelief, amusement, and shock. "What the hell? Why?"

"Kept getting upset that the food would go missing. Worst part is, every time he got blackout drunk, he'd binge eat, pass out and get mad at us for eating all the food."

You couldn't help it. You started giggling, and he started giggling, unable to react in any other way to the absurdity of it all.

"Sorry! I really shouldn't laugh-" You began, failing to stifle the laughter.

"Don't be!" He said. "He's a stupid guy, you should laugh at him."

You both share the moment, the laughter slowly dying down as you both take your first good look at each other. In this moment, you see something you can't help but talk about.

"Is that a minecraft necklace?"

He looks surprised, but pleasantly so. He glances down before holding it up with a grin. The pendant was the shape of a creeper head.

"Yeah, I'm a big fan!"

He puts it back down and his demeanor changes back to being sheepish, but not painfully so like he was before.

"I have minecraft for Xbox and a spare controller at my house. If you want, you can come over and play?"

It was your turn to be nervous again.

On one hand, you wanted to say 'absolutely'. You couldn't remember the last time you got invited to hang out, and the thought of something as normal as playing a video game with a friend was something you needed. Well, maybe you couldn't call him a friend yet, but you feel like you could, given enough time. Plus, after being so afraid of your neighbors and leaving your house, having someone come up to you and act so warm and friendly made you feel soft. It was hard to say no to that.

On the other hand, you had the nagging, unnameable feeling that Ben would be, upset, but you couldn't think up any concrete reason as to why. In fact, if you focused on that feeling too long, your mind went blank.

Sure, you were going about out of the house without him knowing, but Ben has always been supportive of you. Sure, he's never really discussed rules about going over to a friend's house because the situations never come up, but he's fairly easygoing. You were sure that if you explained why you went, he would be understanding. Happy, even.

Plus, you were only going next door, you had your phone on you, and you would be back before Ben came home, so it's not like he had to even know what happened. Not that you wanted to lie to him, but something about that option comforted you more than any of the other things you listed.

Discomfort pushed aside, you gave a smile back to Alex.

"Sure thing, let me grab my phone."

It could have been the perfect hangout. Alex's mom was nice, bringing you two snacks and telling stories from Alex's childhood despite his embarrassment, as you two hung out in the living room while he helped you figure out the controls. Soon enough, you two were building a base together, laughing at each other as a creeper or sneaky skeleton would get kills on you both.

You were halfway through making the third story of the base when your phone started ringing. You felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Ben's picture on the screen.

"Shit."

You immediately pocketed in and got up.

"What's wrong?" He paused the game and looked up.

"I wasn't supposed to stay so late, my brother's probably home by now."

You went over to the window and peeked through the blinds, and as fate would have it, you saw his car in the driveway.

You hear Alex speak from the couch, voice slightly concerned.

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

"I... don't think so. Maybe? I've never been out late before."

"If you want, I can come with you and explain what happened. I'll take the blame."

Despite your growing worry, you felt a pang of gratitude come through. You gave a small smile.

"That's okay, he'll probably be a little mad, but I don't think it's that serious."

You headed to the door, Alex following behind.

"Hey, on the chance you don't get grounded or whatever, here's my phone number."

You look back and see him scribbling on a piece of paper before he hands it over to you. You take it and look at sloppy, but thankfully still legible writing, and give a bigger, more genuine smile.

"I'll text you later. If I still have my phone, that is." You joke, or at least try to.

He gives a smile and a wave as you turn back and exit the front door.

As it closes behind you, the warmth of the interaction slowly leaches from you and leaves you feeling cold and rattled.

You didn't fully believe the things you said to Alex. You had no real idea what Ben would like because you had never gone against what he said before. The thought alone turned your stomach into knots. It was simply how you two functioned, Ben was the one in charge and made the big decisions, and you listened. Sure, he never had any explicit rules about this, but that didn't mean anything.

As you made the short walk to your home, you began strategizing.

You should do damage control right away, start apologizing straight away, and let him know where you were and what you were doing. Wait, should you mention Alex? At that thought, you shoved the paper with his number deep in your pocket. You didn't want Ben to see it.

Before you could think about it anymore, you were at your front door. Your back tensed, and you hesitated only a moment before opening the door. Waiting would only make it worse.

Before you can fully step in, you see Ben pacing the kitchen, brows furrowed, face strained. As soon as he heard you, his head whipped up, and you felt yourself freeze like a rabbit spotted by a wolf. Frozen, unable to do anything else than stare.

"(Y/N)?"

Just like that, you were broken out of your trance, finally allowed to move again.

You step in all the way and close the door behind you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think I'd be out that long, I wasn't keeping track of time, I-"

Your voice died the moment you looked back to Ben's face, his features looked so... angry. You've never seen him look at you like that before, never seen him look like that at all. It set off a loud, blaring warning in your brain that something was wrong, and that you needed to leave. But that was crazy. This is Ben, your brother, you were fine.

You tried to start again.

"I was..."

It tapered off as you saw him move towards you, movement swift and robotic as he kept his attention on you. Without thinking, you shrunk back.

"Ben-"

Before you could finish he's in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly it's borderline painful. You grip his arms, weakly trying to push away, knowing better than to seriously try.

"Where were you?"

There was such a dangerous edge to his voice that you couldn't think, couldn't look away. Your breaths came out shallow and your voice so tiny you could barely hear it.

"With the neighbors."

That only made him angrier.

"What neighbors? We don't talk to the neighbors here."

Oh, you were shaking now.

"With- with the neighbors right next to us, the Rogers. I was hanging out with Alex-"

"Who the Hell is Alex?"

His grip got tighter as he shook you, and you could feel the bruises forming. You started pushing at him again, but your arms trembled so badly you might as well not have tried.

"B-Ben, it hurts."

Your voice was so thick with emotion that it was hardly coherent, but Ben understood.

His face blanked for a moment, body shocked to stillness as you continued to try and leave. Then, without warning, he let you go, turned his back and walked a few paces away from you, pinching his nose as he let out a sharp breath.

You listen to him as he takes deep breaths while you rub your sore arms, snot beginning to run as your eyes turn wet. As you step away, you feel your back pressed against the door, and you have the fleeting idea to open it and run away. You realize what you're thinking, and the idea terrifies you so deeply you stay rooted to the spot.

Finally, Ben turns back, face still hardened but not as severely as before.

"Who's Alex?"

You sniff. You really didn't want to do this anymore.

"He's the neighbor's kid. Our mail got mixed up and he brought it over to me, and invited me over to hang out."

You probably should have stopped there, but some scared, hurt part of you needed Ben to understand that you didn't mean this, it wasn't your fault. Your voice cracked as you continued.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. It was only supposed for a little bit, I didn't think I would be over for so long, just an hour or two. I- I didn't mean for this to happen, I should- I should of called you."

You stopped, but only because the shaking in your hands had spread to your voice, and you didn't think you could keep going without sounding like a complete mess.

His face didn't soften for a moment, staring blankly as you had gone on. After it ended, he closed his eyes, rubbed his face and gave a sharp sigh.

You couldn't read him when he looked away. Was he calming down? Did that make him more upset? Every second that ticked by frayed your already worn-out nerves. You were only one yell away from bursting into tears.

He looked up again, face the same as it was before.

"Do you know what it's like to come home with the door unlocked and see you missing, with no goddamn clue where you could be? What was I supposed to think? You didn't even pick up your damn phone!"

He stopped, took a breath, and then continued, a dangerously calm edge to his voice.

"And then you tell me you decided to stay over at a stranger's house without calling me? A person you only met today? They could of been anybody, anything could happened to you. I thought you had better sense than that."

It stung.

"I'm sorry."

It sounded small and pathetic, even to your own ears.

He let out a sigh.

"Go to your room. We'll talk about this more later."

You don't think twice. You rush away on shaky legs to your room and quietly close the door behind you, afraid of doing anything else to set him off. The bed lets out a soft creak as you sit down. You gather your quivering hands in your lap and look down on them, not sure what to do with yourself.

Before you can think about it any further, you hear the front door open and slam shut, then the car turning on and driving away.

As it quiets down, you can't help it. Stifled sobs climb their way out of your chest, feeling like they're choking you until you can't resist anymore. You collapse on your bed, openly crying until you exhaust yourself to sleep.

The next morning felt almost surreal. You woke up to hearing Ben walking about the house as he did his morning routine. Usually, you would be out of the room right now doing the same, with you both then sitting down to eat breakfast together until it was time for him to leave. This time, you stayed in bed the entire time, idly scrolling your phone as you listened to his footsteps.

A part of you expected him to knock at your door, and ask you why you weren't out yet. Instead, you heard the sizzle of eggs hitting a hot pan as they cooked, and after a short few moments, the front door opening, closing, and locking behind him. The familiar sounds of the car's engine slowly faded away, and you finally got out of your bed, ready to start your day.

You decided to text Alex. You were hesitant to give the details of what happened, simply saying that Ben was upset and things were tense, and thankfully, Alex never pushed it. Instead, he started sending you memes and talking about his ideas for the minecraft world you both started. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him, the conversation going for hours before he had to leave to help with dinner.

When it was time for Ben to come home, you scurried back to your room, feeling relieved but guilty when you closed the door. On one hand, you could still feel the fear you had last night, and you had no idea what to do with it. It was perplexing and off-putting, and thinking too hard on it made you feel like your brain was turning to static, so you opted to not think about it at all, which meant avoiding your brother as well.

But the guilt wouldn't let you be. It turned what should have been the comfort of your room into a place of wrongness, that you were doing something awful by keeping yourself here and not going down to see him like you usually did. Your lip began to bleed, and only then you realized you had been chewing on it since you heard Ben's car pull in.

You contemplated texting Alex for a distraction as you heard him make his way into the house. And then, step by step, make his way way to the hallway, and then to your door.

And then, the knock.

"Can I come in?"

You don't know if you want to answer, so you don't.

"I know you're awake, kid. Your lights on."

Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what to do. For a moment, your mind latched onto the idea that you could pretend to be asleep, but you immediately shrugged it off. This was going to happen anyway, might as well happen now.

"Come in."

The door opens, and you see Ben, completely exhausted, his gaze nervously flitting towards you and the floor as he carried a fast food bag in his hand.

"I brought dinner."

You instinctively perk up at the mention of food, and he takes that as a sign to step closer and sit on the far side of the bed, bag between you two, as he clasped his hands together. His leg starts to quickly bounce before he stops it.

"Figured I'd pick up something on the way home. Didn't feel like cooking.

You nod, even though there's something in you that compels you to do or say more to try and ease his nerves. Even now, after what he did, you hate to see him upset. You try to push the urge to comfort down as you pointedly look away.

Both of you sit in silence while looking anywhere but at each other. In your peripheral, you can see him fidgeting with his hands.

"I know I scared you last night, I just-"

He nervously shifts in his seat. His voice is halting but sincere.

"It worried me, seeing you gone. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). Ever since you were born, I've been there to take care of you. I can't remember a time without you, and I don't want to. You're a part of me, without you, I... I don't even know who I am."

You look over at him and freeze. You're big brother, the man who protected you and cared for you your whole life, is bunched in on himself, face strained and twitching with barely contained emotion as he doggedly stares directly ahead, like looking at you would hurt him. His eyes are red and dark circles frame them. You swallow, years of experience screaming at you to reach over and comfort him, but instead, you sit, never once looking away as he continues talking.

"I shouldn't have done that to you, kid. I should of known better. Should of contained myself. I try so hard for you, but there's times it feels like it isn't enough, and it keeps me up at night."

He sniffs, and your eyes begin to blur.

"I never wanted to be like that in front of you, you didn't deserve to see that. I-"

He wipes his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he tries to collect himself. After a beat, he uncovers his face and finally looks at you.

"I'm sorry."

It was like a spell had been broken. You found yourself pushing a food to the side and leaning against his shoulder. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, and when you didn't resist, he reached his other arm around you, pulled you into his chest, and began softly rocking you back and forth.

You feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it feels the same as you did as a kid when you would run up to him when something scared you, or when you felt your emotions overwhelm you. He would hold you tight and it felt like you were in the safest place in the world. The relief of that feeling after everything you had been through was like coming home.

Still safely tucked in his arms, you spoke again, voice more quiet and child-like than you meant it to be.

"Promise me you won't do that again."

The mere thought of him acting so uncontrollably and violently towards you was enough to make you nauseous.

He squeezed you tight.

"I promise, kid, never again."

You nodded, unable to reply. The both of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he slowly began letting you go.

After getting fully untangled, you rub your eyes, a feeling of exhaustion settling in as your stomach rumbles.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Ben."

His reply is so quick, you think it's automatic for him.

You shoot him a glare, but it's undermined by your smile. He returns it with one of his own.

"You wanna go down and eat? I got you a milkshake too, it's down in the kitchen. But might be a bit melted by now."

You spring up, fast food bag in hand as you make your way towards the door.

"Why didn't you say so, let's go!"

You hear him let out a chuckle, and you let out one reflectively, too.

You both share the meal together, talking and laughing late into the evening, until it was finally time to sleep. You drifted off easily into a deep, restful sleep, finally at peace.

[soulaires]

cardan greenbriar family headcanons. your aaron warner was amazing btw.

The Greenbriars.

pairings: dad!cardan x mom!reader

summary: Introducing the Greenbriar Family.

warnings: domestic fluff, ooc!cardan, mention of alcohol, family shenanigans, dad cardan, not proofread ...

note: omg! Thank you so much! Hope you love this one 🤍

Cardan Greenbriar, the High King of Elfhame, sat upon his majestic throne and reclined in your shared space, the air hung with a quiet warmth as you, his beloved Queen of Elfhame, nervously fidgeted nearby.

"Cardan," you began, eyes meeting his with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. "I have something to tell you." His gaze, worries and panick visible to his eyes fixed on yours, waiting for the words that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

Cardan instinctively wrap his hands around you, trying to calm you down.

“what is it, My love?” he asked, but you only stares at him, anxiety building ip to the both of you.

The silence stretched, prompting you to take a steadying breath. As you pulled away from his embrace, which did not help your husband to calm at all, you let the secret out.

"I'm pregnant," you confessed, the weight of the words settling in the air between you. His eyes widened for a fleeting moment before a slow grin spread across his face.

you are pregnant. Gods, you are pregnant! He is going to be a father!

"Pregnant?" Cardan repeated, disbelief giving way to a genuine, unrestrained joy. He stood, closing the distance between you, and gently cupped your face. "You're going to be a mother," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of astonishment and delight.

“And I am going to be a father...” He whispered as he pick you up and hugged you around.

A cascade of emotions washed over you both—excitement, uncertainty, and the undeniable joy that comes with the promise of new life. Cardan's hands found yours, intertwining fingers in a gesture that spoke volumes. "We're going to have a family," he declared, his voice rich with emotion.

The reality of impending parenthood settled in as you exchanged glances, both grappling with the enormity of the news. Cardan's fingers traced circles on the back of your hand, a silent reassurance. "Are you happy?" you asked, the vulnerability in your voice bared for him to see.

His laughter, deep and genuine, filled the room. "Happy doesn't even begin to cover it," Cardan replied, pulling you into a tender embrace. “I love you so much, We can do this together, okay?” You nodded, as you two hugged once again, your husband face buried in your neck.

"We'll need to prepare," he mused, a glint of determination in his eyes. "A nursery, perhaps?"

As the news spread through the kingdom, joy radiated from the palace, touching every corner of Elfhame. The High King and his Queen, expecting an heir.

Elfhame celebrated with grand feasts and festivities, the air filled with laughter and music.

Days turned into weeks, and your pregnancy became the talk of the realm. The royal court buzzed with excitement, and Cardan, once the stoic ruler, found himself sharing his happiness openly. He attended to his kingly duties with renewed vigor, fueled by the anticipation of becoming a father.

As your pregnancy progressed, Cardan became increasingly involved, attending appointments with the court healer and participating in the preparations for the nursery. Soft kisses on your forehead, a gentle touch to your belly, and whispered promises of love to the baby.

dad!cardan who after the revelation he stops and restrain himself from drinking.

the baby was your 4th tear wedding anniversary baby

he LOOOOVES pressing his face to upur stomach, peppering kisses and talking to the baby even if the bump is not visible.

he had a habit wrapping his tail around you!

He gets very protective

he also does not care what time is it if you ever wake him up in the middle of the night because your cravings are acting out

he loves the way you are being clingy, even having mood swings being away from him

which also he had, hates it when he is away from you.

He do whatever you wish you want

Really can not say no to you

Only wants the best for you and the baby

Oh hes very paranoid

then when the time was near, he is always by your side and taking care of you.

When your water broke, cardan was not with you and you started to panick

You quickly rung the bell to call for servants to assist you

The pain was unbearable so you let out a cry

Your husband heard you and immediately darted out to reach you.

He quickly swept you to his arms and rushed you to the bed and the healers were already filing up in the room. Tears ran down to your cheeks as you pressed your face to your husbands chest.

Cardan attempted to stay strong for you despite his fears coming at him, he holds your hand and kissed your temples as he whisperers assurances and cheering you on.

“Oh, my love, I’m here now. It would be okay.”

“Shh, don’t worry. You can do this.”

“I love you. I love you. You and the baby would be fine just breathe for me, darling.”

As a mixture of nerves and anticipation settled over both of you. The night when contractions finally began, Cardan's calm demeanor cradled your anxiety. In the hushed hours of the birthing room, he held your hand, a steadfast presence amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

When the cries of a newborn filled the air, the reality of parenthood embraced you both. Cardan, his eyes shimmering with unspoken awe, cradled the tiny bundle in his arms. "We did it," he whispered, his gaze never leaving your exhausted yet elated face.

It was a boy! You named him archer. Archie as a nickname.

jude become his godmother!

he wrote letter to archie for him to read in the future

Cardan who is willing to be sleepless so tou can have your much needed rest and to ensure baby archies safety and comfort.

The type of dad to do silly things just to embarrass and make your kid laugh!

His prioritie is you and archies happiness

Oh archie is spoiled rotten as you and your husband falls victim to the puppy dog eyes easily

who cried when archie have his first word!!

Of course it was “dada”

you softly smiled and hug him as he hold your son

you guys cuddle at night as he whispers sweet nothings to your ears.

🪩 :: voicemail; hope you guys love this one as much with the aaron warner hcs do not worry this is not the last time you guys gonna see baby archie and dad!cardan 🤭 Also if you want to be in my Cardan Greenbriar taglist please let me know on my inbox or dm me! See you soonest <3

[unlikelypandahologram]

Reasons to ship every single version of MegOP

since Very Dumb Discourse™ exists about whether or not certain versions of this ship are valid, this is going to be THE most positive post about all versions of MegOP. refer back to this post for reasons to ship your favorite version of MegOP if anyone gets weird about it with you. now let us begin!!

G1: goofy '80s faction dads fighting each other in a denny's parking lot every week LET'S GOOO, that shit is fun as fuck. orion pax also totally had a celeb crush on megatron before megatron ruined that and shot him and his pals 😔 and there's a lot of angst you can add with megatron becoming galvatron and optimus coming back to life to see how much he's changed!

BW: it's the sheer fucking comedy gold factor of a newly minted college graduate and a terrorist dinosaur IMMEDIATELY singling each other out on a prehistoric rock and deciding to call their daily gang slap-fights the BEAST WARS, what iconic drama queens LMAOOOO. also, megatron made his final body in BM look like optimal optimus SPECIFICALLY to fuck with him, and that's just...incredible

UT: the fact that megatron CANONICALLY acted like a grieving widower over optimus after he died in armada is. amazing. never forget their absolutely insane obsession with each other that they can never EVER give up on played a direct part in unicron nearly ending the world <3

Bayverse: this is the one continuity of all fucking things that gave us the lore about megatron being prime's lord high protector. absolute galaxy brain writing from the tie-in comics. also these two would ABSOLUTELY have the messiest, nastiest, most brutal hate sex imaginable, and that's beautiful. <3

Animated: optimus being a rookie washout underdog and megatron being a super scary much older warlord is a really interesting and underrated fresh take on their dynamic! lots of fun to be had with exploring what their relationship would be like after megatron finally acknowledged him as his archnemesis, lol. also...age AND size difference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prime: do i even need to say anything, i'm pretty sure that one flashback still of orion and megatronus being friends is responsible for birthing a million shippers for this pairing alone LMAOOOO. the bitter ex-boyfriends energy was TRULY off the charts in this show, it's a damn shame megatron never appeared in RID15

Cyberverse: same bitter ex-boyfriends energy but this time with dates at maccadams. megatron also dies encouraging optimus to beat the unhinged alternate dimension megs AAHH THE ANGST

IDW1: they're both depressed gay war criminals in this one who CONSTANTLY live in each other's heads rent-free and that's amazing, lmfao. also, megatron becoming an autobot means this is one of the VERY FEW continuities where it's not nigh impossible to figure out a way to give these two a happy ending together in fanon

IDW2: space date space date SPACE DATE. they were falling together and everything. megatron also LITERALLY tells optimus to open himself to him...to give him the matrix...yeah megs my dude i'm sure that's the ONLY thing you wanted from optimus "opening" himself. toootally positive, lol

G1 Marvel: megatron was SUPER fucking pissed and weird as shit about the time optimus died over a video game. it counts

Dreamwave: their first fight had megatron urging optimus to join him AND they disappeared together in a space bridge explosion once which is like, a fanfic-esque setup for them to be alone. also i'm pretty sure this is the continuity where optimus accidentally gave megatron a lobotomy, so...uh...potential for angst is to be had

SG: mirror universe!! evil crazy villain optimus with noble goody-goody hero megatron has so much potential for absolute chaos. bonus if you also bring in the normal versions somehow through multiverse shenanigans <3

KP: the only way this version of prime can redeem himself from the creepy underage human girl bullshit is if he gets a good hard dicking from megatron. next

Prime Wars: huge "ex-husbands go on a road trip with their disgruntled daughter" energy here. megatron also LITERALLY says "oh optimus, if only you could see me now" <3

Earthspark: again...need i say why? they're pals and working together from the get-go, what's not to ship??

Skybound: optimus literally wears megatron's arm. truly beautiful <3

TF One: it's not out yet but give it time. the entire movie is going to be about orion and d-16 being madly in love and tragically breaking up, baby!!

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.3k

It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either. 

Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.

It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.

These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.

You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?

———

A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door. 

Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other. 

“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space. 

Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”

You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.

“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”

You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?” 

“What?”

“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”

“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”

You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”

You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”

Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?

“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”

“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”

“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response. 

When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.

“You’re not going to eat?”

Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”

“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.

She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine. 

You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway. 

Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.

“Work?”

“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.

She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”

You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.

“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.

“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”

A pause.

“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.” 

There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.” 

Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”

A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV. 

By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.

And she did.

Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.

———

“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.

You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold. 

She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this. 

You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.

When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.

“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hummed, “do you need it?”

“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.

As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.

“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.

“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”

She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”

———

Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras. 

She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.

The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth. 

Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you. 

As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you. 

Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm. 

The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.

———

Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.

“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.

“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.

Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”

“This.” 

A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.

“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.” 

“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back. 

You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.

“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.

“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”

Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.

“And what else?”

At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.

You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”

———

Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.

She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you. 

That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.

“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing. 

Then it was your turn to gasp. 

Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck. 

She knew just how to make a mess of you.

“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”

“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.

It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.

You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.

And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.

“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”

She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure. 

She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.

“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.

The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.