#NEW TAG MAYBE? IT'S NOT TOO LATE FOR THOSE RIGHT?

[buckys3rdnip]

Pulling at Heartstrings

"You listen to music while you shoot people?"

"You dont?"

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader (F) 18+ (mdni)

Warnings/Tags: Ambiguous timeline, Classic tower fic, Music lover/dependent reader, a little bit of Sexual tension if you squint, Sniper!Reader, One-shot/Drabble maybe eventually a fic, Fluff, Age-Gap, Possessive Bucky, Mutual-pining, Insecure Reader, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You hate silence. Every hour of the day, there was either a speaker or earphones feeding you the sweet melodies of hyperspecific playlists and songs that were just right—anything to fill the silence. After a while of being an Avenger, you began to grow feelings for the former Winter Soldier, becoming good friends and work partners. Suddenly, the 40s were sounding pretty good in your ears.

Author’s Note: My first fic on here! I’ve been listening to too much 40s and 50s music and wanted to write something that was tooth-rottingly fluffy. I highly recommend listening to the song attached or maybe reading the lyrics to enjoy the full extent of the story but its not totally necessary! :)

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Everyone has quirks and unique habits that might be considered irrelevant to some, while others rely on these little nuances to better understand those around them.

Bucky was the latter.

Despite being a couple of decades behind, about 10, it didn't go unnoticed to Bucky how whenever there was music playing, it was usually by you, and if anyone cared enough to pay close attention (which he did), it gave pretty good insight into how you were feeling throughout the day. Some songs meant good days, others meant not-so-good days, and then there were the ones that had made him curious. He took note of how recently, in between your usual rotations of 90's rock and grungey new-wave taste you had, there'd be an occasional song or two he could surprisingly recognize coming from your room, only because it'd be something between the 1930s or 40's. Especially on the days you’d spend together, either training, working, or sometimes after just being around one another long enough.

It was the morning after your most recent mission with Bucky. Normally, the mornings weren’t really your thing, meanwhile Bucky’s already on his run just before the sun came up. You wake up at about 8:00am, thankfully, you had no missions today, which meant you could enjoy a Saturday for the first time in weeks. Regardless of the day, you never changed your morning routine. At this point, it was a ritual, so to speak. After waking up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t skip a beat as you hurry to rummage through your shelf full of mixtapes, CDs, records, etc. Oh, sure, you had Bluetooth speakers in your room, the compound surrounded you in the latest tech, inaccessible to civilians probably for the next 30 to 50 years- it was like living in the future, confined to just this tower alone. But you also had an appreciation for tangible, real things. Old things. Your civies were comprised of vintage band shirts and ripped jean shorts, all covered in a mix of your perfume and the scent of gunpowder. Maybe in another life, you’d be a video vixen for the newest up-and-coming rock band of the century, instead of being perched on rooftops, taking people out in broad daylight or under the cover of shadows.

You pop a tape into the stereo that’s set up by your dresser, the floor-to-ceiling window flooding in the warm sunlight rising over New York as you hit play and wake yourself up for the day ahead. You’ve always had a broad taste with some select favorites, your usual choices on the more alternative side, but you enjoyed the occasional ballet or 80s hit, to switch things up. However, lately your song choices have been a bit different. As the song began to play, you hummed along. This morning, you were listening to a song from the 50s by a female group that seemed to perfectly capture the inner turmoil you were silently facing.

It didn’t matter how well you shot, how high your mission success rate was, or how proficient your training and performance were. Bucky was stubborn, and had a tendency to doubt. It wasn’t anything against you or your skills, but rather his distrust towards the world and its merciless inhabitants. After growing closer over time, you and Bucky naturally learned each other’s characteristics, you quickly discovered how…protective Bucky was. Overbearing was really the word you were looking for. He had a habit of hovering, almost helicoptering at times, on missions and at home. If you were hanging around someone else for too long or if one of the guys made you laugh a bit too hard, the tension in Bucky’s jaw and shoulders seemed to tighten with irritation. Of course, this usually went unnoticed by you; after all, his grumpy exterior wasn’t exactly out of character for him. One thing he did that got under your skin a bit was remind you of the fact that you’re younger. Not by much (according to your opinion), even if he was about 100 years old, it’s not like he was really that ancient, and you weren’t a child. Being a young woman in your 20s, you didn’t take kindly to being referred to as anything but a grown adult. But it seemed like you couldn’t escape the offhanded use of ‘kid’ he or some of the others threw around while talking to or scolding you. You honestly couldn’t care less if it came from anyone else. But the fact that it was him bothered you to no end. The stories you’d hear from Steve of Bucky being quite the charmer with women and hearing about the type of women he had gone for before the war left you feeling unsettled, maybe at times anxious, and a little bit insecure. You couldn’t deny that at times, when under stress, you had the habit of acting like a raging teenager who was angry at anything- everything. This only strengthened your self-consciousness. As you mumbled the words and hummed along to the tune, you peeled off the sleep shirt you wore to bed, changing into some black shorts and a t-shirt with the neckline cut across so it would hang off your shoulders, revealing the black bra straps hugging your triceps. You make sure to shut off the stereo before heading to the kitchen and common area to fix yourself something up. A smile twitches at the corners of your lips as you see Bucky, white tank top and basketball shorts, post-run run sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee, reading a newspaper.

“Y’know most people watch the news nowadays.” You say, walking over to the coffee maker against the kitchen backsplash. He doesn’t look up, but the chuckle in his throat makes your heart skip a small beat.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested in hearing a news anchor shout at me this early, so words and pictures are doing just fine for now.” He speaks through another soft chuckle, his lips curling into the most heartthrobbed smile, and he wasn’t even looking in your direction, yet it was enough for you to make the mistake of overpouring your coffee. “Oh shit-” You winced and put down your mug, whispering a small string of curses under your breathing, verbally berating the hot liquid as you quickly wiped away at the small spill on the counter. Bucky's eyes shot up from the paper, following you as you scrambled, quickly cleaning your mess despite the lack of actual urgency to do so. He found your erratic nature…endearing. “You okay?” His tone was toeing the line between genuine concern and slight amusement in seeing you flustered over spilled coffee. “Yeah, I got it..” You reluctantly grumbled as you wiped down the side of your mug.

A few minutes pass, you finish making your coffee with no more casualties to the counters and floor, taking a seat beside Bucky, with your elbows propped up as you sip on the warm beverage. A couple more seconds of quiet continue to fill the room before Bucky thankfully breaks it. His next words, however, nearly make you choke as he casually speaks. “So, The Poni-Tails, huh? I prefer the stuff made in the 40s, but maybe the 50s is acceptable, not sure how great those were.” You realize halfway through his sentence that he’s looking at you again. “…I knew my stuff was loud, but I didn’t think it was that loud.” You reply in a bit of a nervous laugh. “That’s a lie. You know exactly how loud you can be.” Bucky’s still smiling, you had to pretend you weren’t absolutely reeling at the sight of it, not to mention his words making your brain make associations that probably weren’t appropriate for this conversation. “I gotta admit, I don’t think I’ve heard you play that one before. That one's new.” He added on, leaning in a little in a slightly playful manner. The fact that he could pick up on the correlation between you and your music selections made your brain short-circuit a little from the disbelief that anyone on this planet would even pay the smallest bit of attention to that kind of detail about you. You could’ve sworn you forgot how to speak for a second. You don’t even notice his empty cup as he stood up from his seat to go put it in the dishwasher, your gaze following him as you struggled to find anything to say, but that was okay because he wasn’t done.

“If I wasn’t busy being such a hardass, I would’ve picked up on it sooner.” He began, setting the cup down before walking over to you as you shifted in your seat a bit, your eyes soft and full like a doe in the forest as you looked up at Bucky. His hands reaching down to grip the sides of your stool, you felt his thumbs graze the outer part of your thighs as his fingers curled around the edges of your seat, his gaze boring into you. “Do you really think I don’t…feel things for you?” His voice was soft, the gravel at his throat rumbling in his words as he spoke in a gentle, almost vulnerable tone, searching your eyes for how you truly felt. Your lips were slightly parted as you stared up at him in surprise, taken aback by his forwardness.

“No, I-” You cleared your throat a bit as you felt embarrassment creep up on your cheeks as they grew warmer. “…I didn’t.” You managed to finish. Bucky hung his head for a moment with a soft sigh, he seemed disappointed…but in himself? He shook his head disapprovingly before lifting it back up to meet your nervous eyes. His thumb gently rubbed small circles on the side of your thigh beside your knee. “I didn’t know you were having a hard time. I never meant to make you feel this way, like you couldn’t be enough for me. It’s the complete opposite…” He trailed off. Bucky chewed at his bottom lip for a moment to stifle a curse as he brought up his hand to cup your cheek. The flesh of his palm was warm as it met your face, his touch gentle. “...The fact is, I need you, I rely on you to keep me from losing my mind in all this noise...Even if it makes me selfish I don't care, I can’t stand the thought of having to share you with anyone...” He breathed, hanging his head again with a small sigh.

"You're more than what I deserve and all I desire."

Your heart is beating so fast you feel it in your head and at the tips of your fingers as his words sink in. You had spent hours, even full nights, consumed with dread, telling yourself that you were the wrong girl from the wrong time, doubting yourself and your chances with someone as extraordinary as the man before you. But here he was, snuffing your doubts and proving your demons wrong. Not only was your love for him requited, but he was looking at you like you were his salvation, and as far as Bucky was concerned; you were.

"Stop looking at me like that before I kiss you..." You say, your breath shaky as your worries from before had subsided, now your only concern being whether or not you can practice the little sense of self restraint you had left when it came to Bucky.

He doesn't even hesiate, not sparing another second being away from you as he leans forward. Your lips locking and drowning into one another, as if you had been stranded in the desert and this was your oasis. It was perfect, he was perfect and so were you- Bucky didn't care what he had to do to make sure you knew that. He'd spend every day of the rest of his life convincing you if he had to. You both pull away, your lips ghosting each other, brushing against the skin as even your breaths seemed to synchronize from the small heat of passion.

"Can..we do that again?" You softly panted.

Bucky couldn't hold back a toothy grin, chuckling softly. "We'll be doing that and a whole lot more."

END.

[2baddiesfanfics]

Where We Belong

Pairing: Caitlyn x Vi

Tags: Sexual Overstimulation, Vaginal Fingering, Angst, Power Dynamics

Summary:

Struggling with fitting into Caitlyn's new squad, Violet does her best to make friends. Nevertheless, it seems her coworkers see her as too dangerous to get close to. The commander notices something's up, and calls her girlfriend into her office for a pep talk (One of two fics written for #TopCaitlynWeek).

Read on Ao3

“Heyyyy! It’s lunch o’clock. Wanna grab some grub?” Violet asked before accidentally sending a few pages of a report fluttering to the floor. Her newest coworker, Elowen, tried not to sigh too loud at the disruption.

“So sorry, but I’ll have to pass today. I told the commander I’d have this in before my shift ended,” the young enforcer half-heartedly apologized. “Maybe one of the others has some time?”

“Oh, sure. No worries. Next time!” She quickly grabbed the paper off the ground and set it crookedly back on the desk before moving on to her second choice. A young man who reminded her of Mylo if he had had the chance to grow up sat talking to someone she didn’t recognize.

Must be from a different department.

“Garrick! Why don’t you introduce me to your friend? Judging by the badge, I’d say you’re a trainee?”

The two looked at her like she was speaking a different language. “Uh, hey, Vi. This is Varren. He just stopped by so we could grab a bite to eat. We were just on our way out. See ya!” He scrambled to his feet and out the door before she even had a chance to invite herself.

“Have fun,” she whispered sarcastically. She’d been living in Piltover for a good six months now, but still couldn’t shake the feeling she’d never be able to truly fit in. When she and Caitlyn were at work, she really tried to keep her distance. Of course, it was no secret to anyone here that they were together. But the last thing either wanted was to be a constant source of office gossip.

Violet knew how hard her girlfriend had been working to atone for the destruction she had caused under Ambessa’s influence. Late at night when they lay in each other’s arms, Caitlyn would still try to apologize for the way she had acted toward her in those dark days. She’d always silence her with a kiss.

Now she had joined the department, Violet tried to occupy her thoughts with ways she could lighten the load for her. More often than not, she was home and in bed before the other woman could even say good night.

“Violet? Could I see you in my office for a moment?”

Her girlfriend's head snapped up at the sound of her voice. It was rare she spoke to her at work outside of meetings. As Violet passed the desk of the coworker who had supposedly been elbow-deep in work, she heard her mutter, “Must be nice when you’re fucking the boss.”

It took every ounce of her willpower not to confront her. One, because she already had plenty of enemies and did not need to cause a scene today, and two, because, well…she was absolutely right.

“Violet? I don’t have all day. Please don’t dawdle,” Caitlyn chastised from the doorway.

“Yeah, yeah. Heard you the first time,” she shot back before entering and closing the door behind her. “What’s up?”

Her girlfriend stood in front of her desk and leaned back, her arms crossed across her chest. “Alright. You’re not going back out there until you tell me what bug has crawled up your ass.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, cupcake. It’s all good. Just a bit of a slow day,” she stated while she toyed with one of the many random artifacts that sat on a table near where she stood. Afraid to meet her eyes lest she see through her with that piercing sapphire gaze, she turned her back to her as she strode over to where she kept an old framed family photo.

The room fell silent for a few moments before the clack of the other woman’s boots drew nearer. Suddenly, she felt Caitlyn’s arms wrap around her waist and her cheek warm against her back.

“I can’t help you if you won’t open up to me, love,” she murmured, her plea muffled by the fabric of Violet’s crisp uniform. “Please.”

Violet placed her calloused hand over her girlfriend’s. “You’ve got more than enough to deal with, commander. I thought we agreed it was for the best to keep these kinds of discussions at home.”

“Some things can’t wait. I can tell something isn’t right. Please…let me help.”

She heaved a sigh. Violet was supposed to be the strong one who let any and all opposition roll off her back. But she also knew keeping this bottled inside would only cause it to become a bigger problem down the road.

“I don’t belong here.”

Caitlyn spun her around with surprising force. “Like hell you don’t. Who told you that? I want a name.”

Violet couldn’t help but crack a smile. She was so cute when she went all protective on her. “Whoa, there. Calm down and I’ll explain. Maybe that’s not quite the vibe I’m getting. It’s more like…everyone seems overly cautious around me. Like if they try and get to know me it’ll cause issues. I heard Elowen make a crack about you and I…”

“Let me guess: That you were getting preferential treatment because we’re dating?”

“Not…quite those words, but yeah, close enough.”

Cupping her cheek, Caitlyn took a deep breath and then spoke to her seriously. “Look, we both knew this would happen. I only thought I’d be the one getting the brunt of it. As a leader, I need to command the respect of those who work under me. But as your boss and girlfriend, I’ve failed to create a balance of treating you as I would any of my employees while also being there for you when you need me the most. I think I could do a much better job of spending time with the other officers and you. Together. They can’t think I’m giving you preferential treatment if I make an effort to…”

Violet loved it when she was like this. When she was laser-focused on finding a solution that ensured no one was left out that she forgot to breathe between sentences. So she’d make her. Her plan of action was interrupted by a searing kiss.

Resting her forehead against hers, Violet responded, “I think that’s a great idea, cupcake. And I’ll continue to do what I can to prove I’m on this elite team not because I slept my way to the top, but because I care about our people. Pilties and Zaunites alike.”

Caitlyn shook her head. “You’re not going to win many friends here if you keep calling them that.”

Clearing her throat, Violet perfectly mimicked her girlfriend’s accent. “Ever so sorry, I meant Piltovans.” The two burst into laughter.

“Well now. Since we have that all figured out…tell me. How many of our team members are still out there?”

Violet cocked an eyebrow out of curiosity. “Garrick left with a buddy, and the rest of the team is all out on patrol. The only one still here is Elowen cuz she’s finishing up a report. Why?”

“Then maybe it’s time I reminded you just how much you do belong here. Perhaps over and over again,�� Caitlyn teased as her arms encircled her lover’s neck. Violet pulled her closer by her hips.

“Oh? So, the commander does break the rules sometimes…”

“Sometimes,” she repeated before closing the remaining distance between them. Instantly she felt Violet melt into her, the stress of trying to keep up appearances finally dissipating. Caitlyn gently pushed her up against the wall of her office as her hands trailed to the hem of the other woman’s pants.

“Cait…you sure this is a good idea?” She panted.

“Stop overthinking it and just trust me, love,” she reassured her before shoving her hand into the waistband of her underwear. Violet’s moan was muffled by her girlfriend’s lips as she went in for another kiss, her fingers slipping inside of her at the same time. Mimicking the movements of her tongue in her mouth, Caitlyn swirled the other woman’s arousal around her pussy.

“I’m going to make you come however many times it takes to get you to forget your worries,” she murmured against Violet’s neck as she suckled the tender skin.

“Gods…Cait…”

The commander applied pressure to her clit, swiping in firm circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her girlfriend’s knees shook as she tried to brace herself for the force of the first orgasm as it washed over her.

Caitlyn didn’t stop. “Come now, you can take another…I know you can,” she encouraged in a breathy groan. Her fingers continued their assault, moving in practiced patterns she had learned over the time they’d been together. 

“F-fuck…babe…” Vi closed her eyes, her head lolling back against the wall she struggled to support herself against. Cradling her girlfriend’s head against her chest she could feel the vibration of her laugh as she whispered words of encouragement.

“That’s right, dearest, come for me again…” As if on command, the other woman let out a whimper as she hit her peak a second time. She was starting to worry she might fall to the floor. “What say you to one more? I think you can handle it.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good- ohhhhhhh…”

———————

“Good talk, commander,” Violet announced a little too loudly as she exited Caitlyn’s office and gave a salute. She walked by her desk to collect her bag and then stopped by Elowen’s to offer a “See ya tomorrow, kid.”

A half-hour later, Caitlyn exited the room and locked up for the evening. She knew she had promised Violet she’d work harder to create an atmosphere of camaraderie, but she couldn’t resist. “Good night, Elowen…maybe if you focused more on your work instead of my relationship, you wouldn’t have to work through lunch. And dinner, apparently.”

The girl looked up from her paperwork, eyes wide with embarrassment. “I…oh, gods, commander, I…”

Caitlyn giggled. “I’m only teasing. But please…don’t give Violet any grief. She’s had enough for one lifetime. None of us can help who we fall for. Including you. I’ve seen the way you glance at Garrick,” she said with a wink. “Just tell him already.”

[the-illiterate-pirate]

4k words of drunk Anasui baby!!!! I don't have much to say so let's get in to it

I'm trying something different. What do y'all think about the header? Looks good, yeah, yeah??

Dancing with a Stranger

Notes: SFW, hurt/comfort?, starts off a little sad, a lot of talk about Anasui feeling like the gang does care about him :(, fem!reader, drinking, needy Ana, literally sleeping with a stranger, dw you take good care of him and you get breakfast, this is less romantic pairing and more you playing babysitter

Btw dividers used below are not mine, credit goes to @/cafekitsune, big fan of their work!

It was happening again. Anasui could feel the atmosphere change around him at the drop of a drink. All at once the noise of that dingy bar he was in became so hard to ignore. Who knew that such a tiny building could hold so much noise.

They were supposed to be there together, drinking away the week's stress from work, studies, and tests. And Anasui had the pleasure to watch the only four people he cared about leave, two at a time. Jolyne was getting hyper. By the time Hermes was able to wrestle her out the door she had her knee on a neighboring table, trying to pick a fight with a guy twice her size that she deemed was too loud. Hermes had apologized, leaving both their half of the bill while she took Jolyne to their car.

Following a little after, Foo Fighters needed to be taken home, too. Always the lightweight. They were never good at holding their alcohol. Their face was about the same shade of green as their hair by the time Weather decided to drive them home.

And that left Anasui, rotting, left alone with nothing but his thoughts. Something he didn't like. He was sure he heard Weather speak softly to him. A gentle, "will you be okay by yourself?" Anasui wasn't sure if he responded coherently. Or if he just kept staring at the peeling booth in front of him, realization of what was happening slowly starting to sink in.

And the bar became too loud. His little bubble of security was popped, being flooded by all of those negative thoughts and ideas once again like a punctured submarine. And there Anasui sat, in a far off corner of the building in a booth seat alone, with only his iced down liquor to console him. He loved his friends, he loved them deeply, even more than his own self. But he hated the feelings they left him with to fight alone. A dark, deep set hunger he wasn't sure how to satisfy. A painful panging in his chest for something more. It made it all the more tempting to find something to feed his humiliating ticks.

He was alone now, depressive thoughts slowly circling and constricting his alcohol ladened mind, like how his finger followed the rim of his glass. Tonight was the last day he had to enjoy his time with friends. By the time the sun rose tomorrow morning, the girls would all be busy with school, whereas Weather Report and Foo Fighters would go on with work. Leaving him to drown in more school work with other idiots who classified him as a human garbage fire. It'd be another seven days until he could wrap himself in the embrace of his friends once more and forget everything for a short while. But now, he was left to shiver in the cold leather booth that stuck to his bare skin.

Anasui decided one more drink wouldn't hurt. Or two. Maybe three.

           

               

You weren't Anasui's original target. Simply put you were stuck in the crossfire between him and a friend, playing shield to a man cowering under the woman's menacing fist.

You just got out of the bathroom.

"It is way too late for this." You exhaled noisily. After pinching the bridge of your nose you took a once over of your damsel in distress. He looked familiar, and pathetic, as the only regular you knew that wore so much fishnet, plus the hot pink hair was a dead giveaway. Normally you'd see him every Saturday night in a group of five. Your friends usually left before they did, but tonight flew a little south. One of your girlfriends was hitting a lucky streak with the pretty bartender, it took an extra hour for her to seduce them into giving her free drinks and a ride home. That left you, two drunks to babysit, and the other designated driver. Oh, and the koala glued to your back.

"What did he even do?"

"Asshole tried to grope me!" Helena shouted, pointing an accusing finger at behind your back. "Called me by some other chick's name and threw himself at me! Do you know this guy?!"

"Hela, don't you think it's obvious this guy is drunk? He must've thought you were someone else!" You were already over this. But no one was going home until everything was settled.

Come to think of it, you have seen this guy with a girl before. Black locks, tan skin. From a distance, you could see where he was coming from. Being drunk probably didn't help either. "Huh. You kinda do look like her." You confirmed with a tilt of your head, eyeing her hair.

"Yer agreeing with this dick?! So you do know him!" You groaned in frustration.

Helena wasn't going to quit without an apology. That was how she rolled. You really needed to quit giving the angry drunk liquor... Or keep her confined to her apartment.

Luckily for you Stacy was there to calm her down. After a painfully slurred apology from the man in mesh, it was deemed good enough. Although barely. Helana's designated driver hauled her out to the car, you and your other friend following outside. She was still sipping away on a bright blue fruity drink, watching the show in the car go down.

You looked between her and your new "friend".  Definitely not fit to stay here by himself. Now he was leaning on you for support, swaying on his feet, shivering. Jeez, curse your bleeding heart. You couldn't leave him like this.

Roxanne felt your gaze, slurping down the final gulp of her drink before turning to you. "What are you thinking 'bout, baby driver?"

You took a deep breath. "Rox, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but would you mind staying with Stacy and Hela tonight? I wanna stick around and help this oaf."

"Oooohh," Roxanne wiggled her eyebrows, slurping down the nothing in her cup and making an annoying noise. "I can do it, but I didn't think you were the type to pick up boys at a place like this."

"Not a chance. I just wanna help this guy get home."

"Suuure," Her bright blue eyes rolled back in her head. She dropped the glass at the door of the bar, before sauntering to the car with her other two friends acting giggly. Stacy didn't seem to mind. the five of you were always sleeping over at each other's abodes. Most of the time it was to your house because you were the only one that didn't have to worry about neighbors. You had already finished college, found a great job and made the big bucks. You were the team's honorary sugar momma.

Speaking of... You didn't think you saw any of them pay for the tab. Damnit. That left you to do it.

"Those..."

You waved your friends goodbye, a pleasant but forced smile on your lips while Roxanne waved back, riding off back to Helena and Stacy's campus.

"Bitches." You finished strong once their car disappeared. You sighed.. Whatever, you'll get back at them. Somehow.

From behind you, the drunk hiccuped, taking you out of your revenge fantasies. He was nuzzled into your collar, appreciating the feel of your shirt. It would've been cute, if he was. I don't know. A child.

Wait. Right. Finding this guy's owners.

"Okay man, let's find your friends." You huddled back into the bar, first paying off your friend's tab, second scanning the tables and the booths for any faces that wrung any bells.

"Hey. Hey, pinky. Where did you and your friend's sit?" It was worth a shot. Luckily, it worked, the guy pointed a weak finger at the corner of the room with a booth. But the booth was empty, already cleaned, no glasses or plates or anything.

"What the..?" You turned around, lightly gripping his shoulders to make him look you in the eye. "Hey, listen. What's up? Did your friends already leave, or-?"

"They left." He confirmed with a sniffle. "They left already. Without me. I'm...."

Like it finally hit him what happened, he froze. Tears began to show in his eyes as he gripped tighter on to your cardigan. "I'm all alone."

"Oh! Oh, jeez, okay," He practically threw himself at you, silently shaking. His sighs vibrated against your neck as he tried to find his breath. "I don't wanna be alone anymore. Please... Please don't leave me..."

No. Were you actually thinking about taking this stranger to your house? What were the odds that this guy was some insane murderer, and this was all some elaborate plan? Looking down at him right now, he didn't seem vicious. Just very, very... sad. He was acting like a lost puppy.

God. You were actually going through with this.

Tab paid. Dog man in toe. You walked back outside to your car. You had his arm slung around your shoulder to lead him to the vehicle faster. He was still mumbling incoherently, but at least he wasn't crying anymore. You weren't sure your poor heart could handle it. "Hey, real quick, can you tell me your name?"

You finally got him into the passenger seat. Immediately he curled himself into a little ball, shivering from the surprisingly cool summer air. Then again, he was only wearing mesh, that was probably why. "It's Anasui." You heard him whisper, huddling closer. You paused, before shouldering off your cardigan, throwing it over his arms. You gave him your name.

"Listen Anasui. I'm taking you to my house. After you get some sleep and sober up I can take you back to your place. Does that sound okay?" You paused again, then added softly, "I'm not gonna leave you alone tonight, alright?"

He sniffled. "Alright."

Great.

Then you were off. The drive home was a  little uncomfortable. The silence was deafening, and there wasn't anything good on the radio this late at night. 

"Damnit..." You gave up, staying on a station playing early 2000's hits with the volume on low. Not exactly your cup of tea, but Anasui seemed to take interest in it. You didn't know what song was playing. It was some sort of pop, but on the slower side. Anasui sounded like he knew the song by heart. He mouthed gibberish into his headrest, eyes closed, fingers lightly tapping the beat. It was kind of sweet, even if you couldn't understand a word he was saying. But the thought immediately turned sour as you were reminded that this Anasui guy was just drunk, and you'd just found him alone at a bar. "Tch, I can't believe your friends would just abandon you like that." You remark offhandedly, not expecting any response. You're surprised when you do get one.

"They didn't leave me drunk." Anasui sighed, burrowing his face deeper into the fabric of his seat. "Leas' I was sober when they left."

"So why did you start to drink more? Why not leave? That's so..." You didn't want to scold a grown man. "...That sounds very irresponsible."

"I know." He mourns. "I was'n thinkin'. I'm so stupid."

You've finally stopped the car in the driveway up to your house. It was a nice house. You were proud of it. Anasui seemed to think so, too. You get out, swiftly making it over to his side and opening his car door. "You're not stupid," You assured him, waiting for the man bundled in cotton to unbuckle his seatbelt. "Some people just make some bad decisions. Look at me and you, we're still young, it's bound to happen."

Anasui was able to get out without help, still clutching to your cardigan like a lifeline. The same couldn't be said for the walk up to your porch. "Besides. Sometimes we just need some help getting through a rough patch. I can't blame you for that."

You unlock the front door. The house was deep black inside. You didn't think to leave any lights on. Not that it mattered, your eyes had already adapted to the night, Anasui behind you would probably get sick if you turned them on now. And you knew your house like the back of your hand.

Unfortunately. Anasui didn't.

"Ow!"

"Sorry! The door leads to the dining room. Just follow behind me, I'll try not to let you bump into anything else." Try was the key word.

You praised your past self for choosing the room on the bottom floor as your own. Upstairs was the guest room, and you didn't feel like lugging Mr. Tipsy up the stairs. He would be okay in yours for a night.

You liked your room a whole lot. Maybe you splurged a little more than you should have after you moved in, but your teen self would've been so happy. And the best part? Dimmer switch.

The room was illuminated by the warm lights in the ceiling, but only the softest glow that allowed you to see under your feet and the scattered posters on the farthest wall. You deposited Anasui on your bed, before moving to your dresser, pushing past your favorite shirts and others you couldn't remember wearing in the past year. You seriously needed to throw them out. But for sentimentalities sake, you couldn't bring yourself to.

A white shirt caught your attention. An old, extra large Van Halen shirt you got for your last birthday as a last ditch attempt for a gift, with the "Panama" cherub on the front with his cigarettes. You liked it enough, even if it was a little big. You just needed something that could fit the redhead on your bed, because surely those fishnets were not comfortable at all.

He looked about ready to conk out, as he was barely holding on by the time you came back. The cardigan was placed delicately to the side as he swayed in place. Looking very, very sleepy. "Here's this. You don't need to strip if you don't want to, but I thought you'd appreciate it better than that mesh crap." You offered him the shirt, explaining the deal. You weren't even halfway through with your last sentence before Anasui began to peel off his skimpy outfit and his hat-thing, you watched in a mixture of shock and impress at how easy it was, to both strip with an audience, and just in general. You weren't sure if you could've pulled it off so easily.

"...Right. I'll be back, I'm just gonna get you some makeup wipes real quick," You had to peel your eyes away from his physique. He was godly. He was able to keep that lean figure without sacrificing the muscles, incredible!

But no! You mustn't let your mind wander. Anasui was drunk and sad, the last thing he needed was some stranger ogling his muscles.

You found those makeup wipes, along with some Advil and two sips of water for you and your new friend. This whole fiasco as well as the headache from babysitting Helena and Roxxy wasn't helping you focus.

When you got back, Anasui's mesh was at the foot of his bed, with him huddled underneath your thick and very pale comforter. Two totally different alarms started buzzing in your head. The one warning you of expensive makeup staining your sheets, another making the painfully clear observation of the skirt and go-go boots next to Anasui's outfit. His lower half was underneath the covers, you prayed he was wearing something underneath.

"H-Hey! You aren't off the hook yet, sit up so I can clean your face!" Anasui complained with an outraged moan, but he got up anyway. He took his medicine while you prepared the wipes for his face.

You took him into a gentle hold under his chin, beginning at the mascara that stained his pretty cheeks. The way he held eye contact the whole time unnerved you slightly, put you powered on, tossing the old wipe to the side to get a new one for his lips. The lipstick stained his mouth a pretty shade of pink. You leaned back to get a good look at your work. He looked a lot better without the makeup, his natural beauty taking you by surprise. Maybe the dim lights wouldn't see you blush. Hopefully.

There was a light pause. This time, it was Anasui getting embarrassed by the attention. He looked to his lap, and the hands he rested there.

"Do.... Do you think my friends hate me?"

You tossed the used wipes away, looking back at the man to answer truthfully. "I don't think they do." You moved back to the bed, "But, I do think they don't understand what's going on in that head of yours. I don't think they knew leaving you alone was gonna do... this to you."

You were interrupted by Anasui propping his head on your stomach. He was affectionate like a cat, hands wrapping around your waist. Subconsciously your hand went up to brush through his hair. Tonight was full of firsts, why stop now.

"You should try to talk to them about it, I'm sure they'll understand."

"And what if I was right, and they leave me if I told them?" It felt weird to have him talk against your stomach.

"Then they aren't real friends, are they? Anyway, I'm sure that's just your head lying to you." You couldn't get over how insane his hair was. It was silky soft, without any tangles. You were adult enough to admit you were jealous. "And on the tiniest, minute off chance I'm wrong, you could hang out with me and the girls! I promise Helena is super cool when we aren't out drinking." He didn't talk back immediately, and instead of agreeing he asked, "You're not leaving, are you?"

"Well, I was expecting to sleep upstairs and give you your privacy," You sighed, beginning to think that was just wishful thinking. Anasui finally looked up at you, violet irises sparkling like puppy eyes. "Stay here with me, please?" You echoed back the same groan he made previously, but you guess deep down, you really didn't mind. You just wanted the guy to feel better. Plus, you were tired, and ready to have this night end. "Fine. Just let me change in the bathroom quick, then I'll get in bed."

By the time you got out again, he was already dozing off in the covers. Again, you were envious of his skill to fall asleep so quickly.

You got an extra cover, not chancing sharing one with him, whether he was half naked or just a blanket hog. The room was extra cold, so you made sure to get a big one. You could finally get into bed, your sore muscles immediately relaxing into the mattress. In the blink of an eye, Anasui sensed the new presence, quickly sliding over to mooch off of your body heat. You've officially given up, allowing him to stay close. He smelled good, at least, and it felt nice to cuddle. Maybe it was wrong to admit to liking sharing your bed with a stranger, but you couldn't say no to Ana. Maybe in the near future he wouldn't be a stranger, maybe this didn't need to be a one time thing. You weren't in love with this guy, not by a long shot. He was emotional and clingy. But maybe you could grow to like him more. And if you didn't start to develop those feelings, maybe he could stick around as a new buddy? Maybe keep this one away from the juice, though.

   

Anasui woke up the next morning alone, in a bedroom he didn't recognize. He was scared for a second, but he got to calming back down quick. He didn't feel sticky, or gross. He was clothed, well, for the most part. Nothing hurt aside from his splitting head and his empty stomach. The smell of cooking food didn't help it at all.

He looked around. The new morning light lit up the place in warm oranges and yellows. There were clothes scattered around the floor, metal and classic rock posters on the wall next to the big window, the two dressers in the room were covered with carelessly placed books and knick knacks and trinkets that didn't go together. Was he picked up by a teenager?

The door opened, Anasui threw his covers over himself in surprise. He recognized your pretty face. Speckled with a drunken haze that gave you a glow like a halo. Imagining you seeing him in such a state made his cheeks hot, but he tried to ignore it.

"Morning!" You chirped. "How're you feeling?"

Bad. Anasui wanted to say. "Sober." He said instead. At the same time his head throbbed, and Anasui grabbed at his crown, groaning in pain. He changed his mind. "And bad. Everything hurts."

You nodded, "I'll go get you some pain meds, one sec."

He took the two pills gratefully once you came back, along with a cold water bottle that tasted like the nectar of the gods. "Thank you." He said. After a pause he added, "I wasn't too much trouble last night, was I?"

"No way," You giggled. "It's nothing I haven't had to deal with before."

Memories started to trickle in to Anasui. Memories of watching Hermes leave, then Jolyne, then Weather, and Foo Fighters, the memory of him clinging on to a stranger's back sobbing like a loser. Come to think of it, that stranger was probably standing in front of him right now.

The cringe on his face was probably obvious, if the obnoxious laugh you let out was anything to tell by. "Hey, we don't have to talk about last night if you don't want to. I've got breakfast ready in the kitchen. Wanna join?"

The promise of food, maybe bacon and eggs, made Anasui's mouth water. You smirked slightly. "Just put your skirt back on, I'll meet you in the dining room pretty boy." And you left without another word. The little comment made his heart flutter in a weird way. Anasui didn't think little pet names on his appearance would make him feel so light in his chest, but you've proved him wrong.

He put his lace back on, along with the boots and his skirt. But he wanted to keep wearing the Van Halen shirt. What a stupid little thing to get excited over, sharing similar taste in music, but he couldn't help himself.

Your house was much more tidy than your room. It was cozy, and Anasui liked it a lot. He found you setting two plates down, piled high with breakfast food with two glasses of orange drinks. You settled at the table in your seat, looking proud of yourself, "Eat up, afterwards we can drive back to your place. Or go back to the bar, if you have a vehicle."

"Thank you. For everything." His fork poked at some eggs. They were bright yellow, fresh. Anasui had never seen yolks so bright in his life. "I can't remember the last time I had an actual breakfast."

Your smile faltered a little bit at his tone of voice. "It's no worries. Don't beat yourself up over it, I would've done all this for anyone."

"Thinking like that could get you hurt." He muttered rather darkly. You snorted in response. Most of your conversation with him was like that for the rest of breakfast. He was much more mature sober, you appreciated that. Made him much more appealing. He was a little more haughty too, though. Any sarcastic comeback was met with more sarcasm, though sometimes you'd say something that would make Anasui stop and look away. Like the shirt.

It was after he helped clean your dishes. You walked him out to your car, swinging your keys around your pointer while Anasui shielded himself away from the sun like a vampire. He stopped you before you'd completely gotten into your car. He was about to pull off your shirt before you stopped him.

"Keep it." You told him.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yeah. Why not? You can give it back next Saturday, after you clean off the drool and makeup." He raised an eyebrow.

"So, this won't be the last time we talk?" You laughed, unlocking the car and getting in. "Shoot, no. We go to the same bar every weekend, I see you every time! Me and my girls will crash your friend's little get together next Saturday, to pay back your babysitting fee."

It was meant as more sarcasm, but the thought of getting to see you again made Anasui's heart jump again. You pulled out of the driveway, leaving back to the bar like Anasui asked. In secret without you seeing it, he enjoyed the smell of your cologne on the fabric of the shirt he wore. It partnered well with his own. He couldn't wait for next week.

[burymagdalene]

Covetous Cravings - S. Reid x Reader

Spencer finds himself sulking around in jealously for the first time after you regrettably tell him you have plans for the night. When surprising him with your presence later, Spencer realizes just how badly he missed you while he was away.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Smuttttt...... (18+ pls pls) tags: Whiny & desperate Spencer, he's just very eager to please. virgin Spencer, munch!spencer, head (fem!receiving), coital takes place on Spencer's pretty Persian rug, jealous Spencer, fingering, heavy make out session, nipple play, handjob, panty sniffing, Spencer's POV! Dirty dirty dirty wc: 5.3k a/n: I've written "Spencer" so many times it doesn't sound like a name anymore. I saw this tweet and was inspired to write something related to the carpet picture. That's all. I don't even think of you that often.

Cold water washes over Spencer's tired eyes and rolls slowly down his wrists to the bottoms of his sleeves (that he rolled up to avoid getting them wet, annoyingly) as he frantically tries to wash away a strange sour feeling in his gut.

Upon looking into his mirror he gazes over the 5 o’clock shadow he’s garnered over the few days spent away in a small town in Delaware. He pulls in his lips and rubs over it with his finger tips. He doesn’t have the energy to shave it right now.

Spencer is currently harbouring a bit of a sourpuss persona, he knows this well. The team had wrapped up the case quicker than expected, leading him to message you as soon as he could about heading back to D.C. and seeing you again.

To his dismay, when he got off the plane and checked his crummy silver Nokia, that you’ve giggled at a fair share of times, the response he receives from you is… that you’re… busy?

Something about a group of friends at a late night cafe/bar getting together, he didn’t read all of it, pouting so much that he just closed his phone. Spencer is aware you had these plans before he asked to see you. Spencer is aware that he’s back from Delaware earlier than expected. Yet he’s still over his sink, face wet and cold, grumbling about your social life.

The two of you have been together for a couple months now, it’s extremely new, he knows you wouldn’t drop everything upon his arrival, but the whole plane ride home he imagined your ideas around hanging out once he got back. He got his hopes up too high.

He begins to reflect a bit, maybe a better word would be spiral, as he wanders back into his bedroom and unpacks his go bag. I shouldn’t be feeling lousy right now, he thinks. We’ve been dating for 2 months and 3 days, he had missed your two month anniversary while he was away. He couldn’t even text you that day because he was too busy. Should he even text about anniversaries like that? He’s so new to this he has no clue. 

Considering your dating timeline now he starts to worry. He’s inexperienced, almost completely… no, yeah, actually completely. He sighs.

You have been over twice, by all the beautiful luck he might have fostered in a past life, he has had the spine-tingling honor to have made out with you those two times as well. After a handful of museum and bookstore dates, even visiting your apartment once, the first time you shared a kiss was when he was showing you Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Cercle Rouge, attesting it was substantial to the gangster film genre. 

When he felt your eyes against the side of his face during the best part of the film, he took a double take at you, seeing an unreadable expression in your eyes. He cringes at the memory of his confusion.

“Th-this part is really good… Pierre’s use of cinematic synecdoche here is perfectly timed compared to–” 

You had leaned in closely and started kissing along his jaw as he fumbled through the rest of his explanation till he tapered off into a whimper that was sealed with a kiss planted on his lips. He even reached to the coffee table in front of him while you were kissing to pause the movie, not wanting you to miss anything.

Spencer groans a bit at the memory, a little embarrassed, he now would recognize the signs you were displaying easier. He’s jealous of his past self, having you to himself so unabashedly. He’s jealous of his past time spent with you and he’s jealous of your friends right now who are hearing your laugh and smelling your perfume all night.

He sighs and flops down on his back to his bed. Spencer does not feel jealous often. He feels completely rotten and out of sorts. He thinks, maybe if he would’ve kissed you more suavely that first time you would’ve dropped your plans now. Maybe if he translated the French into English for you in a more sultry voice you’d skip out on a coffee with your friends. Maybe–

Spencer hears a faint knocking on his front door. He looks over at his alarm clock, 12:12 a.m., hm. He’s hallucinating for sure. Like a lonely old man who hears his late wife’s voice in the dark of his haunted halls–

Another tentative knock. 

He leaps up from his bed and races over to the front door with his legs moving so fast he feels like he’s in Looney Tunes. His heart starts pounding as he looks through his peephole to see a small blurry version of you shifting on your feet. He scrambles to unlock his door and swing it open. 

“Hi!” You smile at him, smelling like strong coffee mixed with whatever lactonic and spicy fragrance you usually wear that curls his toes. You step forward and give him a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. This springs him into action, wrapping his arms around your waist he mutters out a “wow” against your shoulder. Like he just won a sweepstakes. 

You pull away a bit, but Spencer's arms stay around you. “Is it okay I’m here? You never responded to my texts.” You give him a shy smile and he realizes as he was grovelling he didn’t open his phone again after you said you had plans for the night. 

“Yes! Yes,” he clears his throat… be suave. “Of course. Um. Was just thinking about you, ha. Come over whenever. Yea. Even if I say I’m busy, come over still, haha.” Shit. 

“Ah. Okay, noted. I missed you too, Spencer.” You giggle a little at him and walk into the apartment, leaving him to shut the door behind you. “What were you thinking about?” You muse. 

“Ummmm. Le Cercle Rouge.” Spencer clears his throat again. IQ slashed to 60. 

“The Le Cercle Rouge incident, right.” You laugh again and look over at where he’s standing with a blank face. “Oh. Are you sure it’s okay that I'm here? I know I said I was busy, so I’m sure you’re ready for bed now, especially after the case. Did that go well?” His blank expression has made you nervous, he notices, though he was just considering again the feeling of his neck being kissed for the first time in 24 years. 

“Please stay. A while, too. I’m not tired.” A pause with long eye contact. “The case went surprisingly well, hence the early arrival.” 

The curve of your lip pulls up in a smirk and he sees he’s convinced you fully now. You bend down and unzip the sides of your brown high rise boots, leaving you in your black tank top, skirt, and now kneehigh socks that create a monochromatic wet dream for Spencer. Though this isn’t a dream, he shakes his head from side to side to get rid of the distracting thoughts.

“Good.” You sit down fully on his red carpet now, trying to pull your last boot off. “You know, you were a really short walk from the coffee shop, I’m surprised you’ve never been. As soon as you texted you were back I kept trying to slip away as politely as possible.” You talk while struggling with the shoe.

Spencer takes a deep breath in and meets you on his carpet, sitting on his knees to pull the boot off of you, which was incredibly easy. You were pretending to struggle with it on purpose. Once removed, he sits back against his heels and pushes your knees together by your ankles.

“You walked?” He mumbled back. He would’ve picked you up. He should’ve just checked his phone, told you to have a good night like a proper boyfriend. 

“Mm, like five minutes. No worries.”

“Its midnight- I. I can always pick you up.”

You whined your response, “But you weren’t answering your phoneeee.”

Spencer rubs his face with his hands, covering his smile a bit and feeling his skin heating up. “I’m very glad you showed up anyway. Even if it scares me you walked alone this late,” he glances at you leaning back against your hands, knees still pulled together. “You look very pretty.”

“Really? Thanks. I thought so too. About you, I mean. You’ve got a little 5 o’clock shadow right now, you look really handsome.” You smile and let out an airy laugh. Spencer subconsciously rubs his face again. He’s not sure when these jittery feelings will go away, if they ever will. One compliment from you and he’s feeling a blush coming from inside of him stretch over to his skin. 

He remembers his petulance earlier, his flair for the dramatics. Whining over people other than him seeing you, cursing his past self for awkward conversations, so he leans over onto his hands and knees and kisses your lips. 

You hum against his lips, knees together against one of his sides, happy at Spencer's first time initiating a kiss between you. You sit up off of your hands now  so they can cup his face and pull him firmer against you. Taking one of his wrists from where he’s planted on the floor to the other side of you, you guide him to slowly hover over you. 

Spencer can’t help but let out a tiny noise, a moan, against you as his palms dig uncomfortably into his carpet. He feels you lean back against your elbows and swing one of your legs to the other side of him. Now, you are pressed flat against the carpet, legs on either side of his waist. Spencer slowly moves so he’s on top of your frame, elbows crowning your head.

Both times Spencer has had the pleasure of tasting you like this you have been straddling him on his couch. This is the first time that he’s been able to lay on top of you and feel his hip bones dig into you and your legs around him.

Woah. Your legs are wrapped around him, just like how he’s dreamed of having you in his bed. Legs squeezing helplessly around him as he buries himself in you. Feeling your chest against his as you arch up into him. He lowers one hand to trail it up from your shins covered in your knee highs that make him faint to your hip.

He pushes his crotch down a bit from where it was against yours, making it so the hard-on he’s now sporting is against the floor now. He remembers the visceral feeling of you kissing his neck. Immediately he’s moving down to return the favor. What starts in soft kisses escalates quickly to sucking and laving against your skin, face buried into the source of his wildest dreams, your perfume. 

Your hands are carding through his hair right now, nails scratching at him softly and he has to position himself a bit closer to the ground now to rub off some built up tension his cock is begging for. This is usually where you part.

Face buried in your neck he’s smelling your intoxicating scent and moaning against the skin. He feels like a wild animal smelling a pheromone filled scent gland. Spencer realizes briefly where he is and pulls up from your neck to stare down at your face.

Hair haloing around you, you’re feverish and pressed against the Persian rug he spent his first big paycheck on. You have a bit of mascara smudged under your eyes and the lamps scattered around his living room are highlighting you in a way so beautiful he moans out again softly. No friction, no kissing, just by looking at you.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he traces the line of your neck up and down softly with the tips of his fingers. “I almost drowned in my sorrows before you knocked on my door.” He leans back down and chuckles against the skin of your neck.

You don’t have exactly the same romantic thoughts in mind as you gasp out for the first time since he’s laid on you, “You feel so good against me, Spence. Wanted this so bad,” he stops kissing, breathing lightly against your neck as you continue. “Can’t believe I haven’t pulled you on me sooner.” He’s blinking silently hidden in the corner of your neck. He acts on a whim and bites down lightly against where your neck and shoulder meet and you squeal. 

Spencer was not prepared for the blazing eye contact he’d be met with once pulling away to look at you. Your tank top has ridden down, the top of your pink bra showing a bit and your hair is drastically more disheveled than when you arrived. He can feel his heart in his throat. He has to keep making you let out that sound.

You seem to notice his brazen eyeline and you take one hand to pull the neckline of your top down a bit, exposing most of the bra covering your breasts that are only slightly spilling out from all your wiggling. Spencer shuts his eyes like he’s in pain, but he’s actually moving his hips up and away from the floor so he doesn’t come in his pants right then and there.

A completely new and formidable heat spreads over him and into his loins. Never in his life has Spencer trembled with anticipation in this way. His skin is on fire and he’s struck with the overwhelming need to make you the happiest person in this world. He wants to have you shiver and shudder completely against his apartment floor, he wants to hear every moan and grunt until your voice gives out. He wants to fuck you with his mouth.

“Gah-God, baby,” Spencer moves himself away from you so that he’s kneeling between your open thighs, rubbing the outsides of your legs as he looks into your eyes. “My mouth. Um, can I use my mouth?” He lets out a shaky breath at the image.

You bite your lip softly at him, he feels like he just licked the screen on one of those old staticy TVs he used to have. “Use your mouth for what?” You half play coy and half ask in earnest, not wanting to jump to conclusions since you and Spencer have never taken off many layers together.

“I want to use my mouth to make you cum.” His face flushes immediately, your eyes widen in shock. He drags his sight down to where you lay in front of him. Legs spread open and skirt ridden up giving him an obscene upskirt of your underwear for him. Also black. He keeps his eyes there as you reply.

“Yeah. Please, please-” he whips his head up to look at your face again to engrain the image of you unkempt and nodding a desperate yes into his memory. He lightly reaches out between your thighs to briefly feel the bottom of your panties. He’s barely thinking, his first instinct was to gauge how wet you are, to compare it to how you’re going to feel later. You gasp sweetly and he moans in response, untouched, again.  

With this searing hot permission Spencer gets hit with a strong pietistic devotion towards you. There is literally nothing in his life that has mattered more to him right now than how the gusset of your panties stick onto you and that his tongue can finally be given the task he has thought about constantly since knowing you. 

The anxiety Spencer was expecting as a result of his inexperience is completely overthrown by a perfectly instinctual autopilot setting he falls into. The excitement of making you feel good, you letting him touch you in such a profound way completely overshadows the doubt of his expertise. 

Not that he’s completely clueless. Erotica classics hide in his bookshelves, copies of Anaïs Nin’s short stories, the detailed counts of female pleasure derived from biology books, decent sex education stemming from the countless hours he’s poured into literature. He’s fairly in tuned to what generally makes people crumble, he just has to try it out himself. 

Spencer starts at the top again. The push and pull between him and eating you out the way he’s craving will have to drone on a little longer as he starts kissing along the exposed skin of your breasts, not wanting to leave anything unkissed. How rude. 

You outstretch your neck to him and slide the tank top off yourself, leaving just your pink lace bra that's covering little of your nipples. Spencer fingers the straps briefly while taking in the sight of you. He cannot believe the cosmic circumstances that have led him to this moment.

“D’you like?” you mumble while watching him eye-fuck you. He almost feels sorry for how he’s watching your chest rise and fall but the way his dick is pulsing under the confines of his underwear allows for little words.

In fact, his hips kick a twitch forward at the sound of your voice. A siren song as old as time. 

“MmmIwanna,” Okay. Form words. “I wanna-” he pities himself enough to give up on that one and kisses along your chest again.

“Do what you want to. I want to feel you everywhere… I want you to touch me.” You seem to understand his dilemma. A once articulate tongue falls flat in such a frenzied situation. 

Spencer palms your tits through your bra properly now while kissing you sloppily. He feels the friction of the lace against his palm and your hardened nipple receiving the rough friction from it as well. He picks up on your whine against his lips and pulls your bra down by the middle of it, exposing your chest fully. 

You gasp against his lips and move your tongue against his as a thanks. Spencer lets out a tiny “ah” from the back of his throat when your tongues meet. To regain composure he takes the nipple he was palming through lace earlier and rolls it between his middle finger and thumb, it’s your turn to kick your hips up for friction now. 

He decides to lower his hips against yours fully for the first time, desperately searching for that debauching pleasure that he was avoiding earlier. His dick rests nicely under your belly button and you bite his bottom lip when he’s fully settled against you, he feels sort of proud. 

Feeling your body completely pressed against him in this way makes him mourn every second he’s been with you and not made you moan in happiness like he is now. Wishing that the pesky virginity he’s carried with him this long will be taken by this angel underneath him right now. His cock twitches against you at the thought of it.

He stops fiddling with the nipple and instead moves to hold one of your hands with his as his other hand moves to rub your neglected nipple. He subtly grinds a long and slow rhythm against where you two are pressed together and you make a curious noise, a full moan caught before getting let out. Nudged in your throat as you hold it in.

Spencer thinks for a moment and smiles at the realization that it sounds almost exactly like how you hold back a laugh in your throat. A small and choked out “hngh” high pitched before its snuffed out. He thinks of any future endeavors where he gets to hear you hold back a laugh in a quiet museum or library from one of his stupid jokes. With this comparison he’s going to be pathetically hard in so many more inappropriate situations now.

“Please, can you please take my panties off.” You mewl gently, almost as if you’re worried he will refuse, and break him out of his thoughts. Spencer nearly forgot how lost in his head he was while methodically rubbing your sensitive breasts and grinding against you. 

“Pretty girl, I’m sorry.” He really is, he never wants you to feel so desperate you have to beg for him to touch you, but without interference he could probably sit for eight hours straight playing with your tits to see if you could come from it. He whines out loud at the thought. “I will, of course, I will.”

The feeling of him peeling himself off you feels tortuous. However, it is very much a high risk, high reward scenario when he looks down between your thighs again to see a wetter fabric clad to your hips. Spencer leans towards you, pushes your socks down slightly to kiss the tops of each of your knees. You giggle and he nips the inside of your leg slightly. 

It’s dizzying, the experience of pulling your panties down for the first time. Every night where he has sloppily fucked his fist thinking of your smile lines and pretty hands, every evening after you’ve left his apartment well kissed has finally led to this life altering moment.

Your panties have been slid off and he’s got an iron grip on them as he’s staring at you fully exposed, the translucent liquid smudged around your cunt. He’s trying incredibly hard to not push them up to his nose and inhale, he thinks he’s done enough animalistic sniffing and grunting at you tonight. He places them neatly on the couch instead. 

“Baby, Spence, you’re a voyeur.” You laugh at his staring gently, he assumes 25% of this experience for you has been watching him stare bug eyed at every inch of skin you’ve surrendered. He lays down flat on his tummy, sucking in air through his teeth as his dick presses against his carpet through his slacks again. “Feel sensitive, that feels like a lot?” You ask softly down at him. He flushes, embarrassed a little that you notice him the exact same way he notices you. Spencer pinches his eyebrows together and nods.

“Feels.. real good though.” He laughs gently at himself as you groan and rest your head back down on the carpet at how sweet he is.

He wraps his arms tightly underneath your thighs to pull your pussy closer to him, your skirt riding up to your belly in the process. He feels you squirm a little under his arms and kisses the skin above your hip flexors softly.

His heart skips a beat when he’s up close to you, a sliver of doubt creeping up along with the immeasurable need to make you feel good. Spencer takes his tongue out and licks a broad stripe up from right below your opening to above your clit. This is more for himself, actually. He wants to taste every single drop you expelled from him kissing and touching you, it’s what he deserves.

Spencer's arms immediately have to resist against your thighs moving shut, using a bit of his strength to keep you open as he does it again. This time he moves his head slightly side to side. The whine he hears coming from your lips makes him take one arm away without thinking to hold your lips open and wraps his lips around your clit.

The open window you get without one arm suspending your leg allows you to close one thigh to the side of his face while the other is still pried open by him. He continues to suck gently, pulls away and lifts up the skin covering your clit, kisses it softly, you let out a pitiful sobbing noise and Spencer sucks your clit again, rolls it between his lips.

You help him out by taking your other thigh away from his face and holding it up yourself. “Wh-who taught you to do this?” You squeak out giving him a sense of confidence he’s been desperately striving for. Spencer cannot bear to part from your cunt to reply so he just hums lowly against you, hoping that you get his message of I daydream about doing this to you every waking moment through the vibrations he’s emitting.

He feels you rock your hips against his face greedily and he smiles a toothy grin against you. His perfect pliant girl, he couldn’t be happier to have your wetness rubbed against his nose as he dives into you. 

Wanting to escalate the scenario a bit, he’s internally pleading to feel you cum against his face, Spencer begins to suck harshly and suction onto your clit intermittently. The loud “fuck” you whimper out and how your torso isolates to twist to the side as you keep your hips in place is a good indicator that he’s making you feel good. This is a dream.

“Hh- mmmm” you cry out and Spencer flickers his gaze up to your face. You’re scrunching your face like a sweet bunny and have one hand up and posed above his head, waiting to push him away, the pleasure so strong you have to implicitly prepare yourself to shove him away when it gets to be too much. He moans highly against you.

The hand you had defensively propped up begins to lightly push at his face, he smiles at this, suctions your clit through his lips and runs circles over it with his tongue, your hand falls limply to your side.

“Fingers- ah, fingers!” You manage to gasp out one more plea before sucking your lips in and moaning deeply against them.

You seriously do not have to ask him twice. Being able to feel you twitch and grip around his fingers while he sucks on your clit has him pushing himself against the floor. The bordering on painful stimulation he’s getting from using all his body weight to hump his carpet sends tingles up and down his spine. As you said, sensitive. 

Spencer starts by tracing your entrance with his middle finger, he slips in easily just by doing that, your slick and his spit making the intrusion incredibly easy. He wastes no time pulling his finger up against your g-spot and slips in his ring finger alongside it, rubbing slick circles inside of you.

The noises your cunt is making from his incessant sucking and rubbing could probably be heard from any of his neighbors walking by his front door. He gasps hotly at this thought, what are you doing to him? Has he no shame?

You’re riding his face and fingers again, mumbling intelligible sentences. God, his cock hurts. 

“Baby, close, don’t stop-” The angelic words fall from your mouth and his ears perk up like an owner saying her dog's favorite words to it. Spencer continues exactly what he’s doing against you and looks up at you again through your back arching.

He can feel you twitching and senses you’re done for. If only he could talk and eat you out at the same time, he wants to call you pretty until tears come from your eyes. You gasp wetly and come all over his fingers.

Your thighs clamp against his head and he lets you do whatever you need to do to his face to get off. He’s rubbing soft and soothing circles against your hips as you hiccup through your orgasm.

You open your mouth as if you have something to say, and close it again, shuddering out a breath of air. Spencer pulls away, he can talk again.

“My good girl, thank you. I mean, you tasted so good… you’re so pretty, my pretty, oh my god-” He’s got a lot on his mind right now.

Spencer watches and follows your movements as you sluggishly sit up to kiss him, moving your tongue against his in an eager display to taste yourself against his lips, he whines again, feeling your warmth against him. When you palm him through his pants Spencer stutters out a pornographic “hnnn”, the friction from his rubbing against the floor has left him painfully needy.

“Can I take your cock out baby?” You ask against his neck. Spencer is aware of the embarrassing uhhuh uhhuh he releases as he scoots back against his couch. You don’t bother teasing him, taking out his red dripping dick from his pants and underwear and you don’t even giggle when it makes a whip sound as it taps against his skin.

He actually has to close his eyes after watching you whine in overstimulation as you collect your come from yourself to use it as lubrication to jerk him off with it. He’s genuinely going to pass out.

With a mouth open to the shape of an “o”, Spencer has an onslaught of tiny gentle noises that fill up the room alongside the skin slapping sound of you jerking him off. You touch the crown of his dick and one of his arms shoots out to brace himself against the couch. 

He accidentally grabs your panties he placed on the couch earlier.

Not thinking, he grips onto them and you kiss his cheek. “Want em’?” You tease. “My panties are in my top drawer next time you come over and want to snoop around.” You joke further, a red flush of humiliation covers Spencer's neck and chest. He slowly moves his grip on them over to his nose. Too far gone to have the same self-control he had earlier to set them aside, he finally indulges in taking in your scent.

He’s somewhat expecting more prodding and teasing, but you just continue to kiss over his face softly. He’s so thankful.

There’s no surprise to the fact you have him coming especially fast. Spencer feels his legs twitch and he sets down your panties to kiss you properly as he finishes all over your fist. 

As he comes down from this unexplainable high he is struck with such a tender feeling of affection towards you his eyes water. You notice and scoot onto his legs and lap and wrap your arms around him in a hug.

Not letting go until you feel him chuckling against you, you ask him how he feels and he sighs out dramatically. He’s so exhausted now.

You shyly offer to wet-vac his carpet once you guys move to clean yourselves up and he breaks out into a laughter that makes his stomach hurt. You eventually join his contagious laughter at the situation.

Spencer’s suggestion for you to stay a while is accepted with open arms. You spend your first night together wrapped up in each other's embrace. Being back in his own bed with you here settles his mind so gently that within three minutes of his head hitting the pillow he’s out like a light. 

In the morning when he wakes up for work he rubs his nose softly all over your face to wake you up. Spencer offers that you stay in his bed and sleep more or he can drive you back to yours before he heads over to work. He ends up driving you home so you can get ready for work yourself. Once you’re back home he finally opens up his phone again from last night to see a picture of yourself you sent on the walk to his apartment last night with the text under it “Had to come see you anyway, hope the doors unlocked mwahaha”.

He finds himself smiling at his missed message all day at work and once he’s seated back in his car to go home later that day he finally finds the “forgotten” panties you left on his passenger car seat when you left this morning.  

Spencer flushes then pockets them before texting you that he is in fact not a voyeur or a perv and he did not put your panties in his pocket and he is not asking you to come over again tonight so he can cook you a pasta dinner before he lays you out for him again, hopefully on his bed this time.

[blueivyy99]

Calm and Serenity (Part 5)

Sylus x Non!MC

summary: you didn't know what sylus saw in you. he said you were calm, quiet and serene and that's what he needs. you believed it. he showed it. not until little miss hunter came. she's everything you're not. news that she's in danger can make the ever so calm sylus to run and leave everything behind. it made you think, would he do that for you as well?

tags: angst, romance, hurt and comfort, confused sylus, non-mc reader, mentions of death/dying, cursing

taglist: @fknblsht @aboobie @nin10doo @ixloom819 @damatically @sylusgirlie7 @stellisangelicus-world @kira-loves0905 @wanderlustingcastaway @browneyedgirl22 @lumieresdreams @babygirl-panda19 @picnicinthegarden @96jnie @xxfaithlynxx @wrimaira @reni502 @lazypostfandomer @augustdxjiminx @hey-airam @vevlvtcherie @marquitas-en-verano @ma-cherie-lovely @zeskyzed @imnikki @shiorihoshino @mentaltrouble2201 @sylustoru @imaginarytheatre @seris-the-amious @zoyadarling @sanghyuksgasolinestationscream @young-adult-summer @iamawkwardandshy @r0ckb1n @openthenyoor01 @malleus-draconias-rose @syyyy4ever @yutterfly @xsammijoanneex @reni502 @animegamerfox @hao-ming-8 @angelicspaceprince @codedove @bxtchopolis @nommingonfood @esylwen @phisen @gojosbedwarmer @rubyninja1 @lemonn015 @cordidy @blueesmiski @yunhogrippers @sleepykittenenergy @thatsbunnysmind @lumi-s-garlic @splaterparty0-0 @soulaandshere @sillyfeeakfanparty (OMG I CAN'T TAG ANYMORE HELP)

note: one last part next. and a big thank you to the love on this series. y'all make me wanna cryyyyy 🥹🥹🥹

Masterlist

Sylus eyes flickered over the screen scanning every area in N109 Zone’s security cameras hoping in one of them he'll see you but for some reasons he can't.

The frustration is slowly creeping to his skin. He doesn't like the obvious fact that you left him with no explanation, that he is too late. That it took him long enough before giving you the assurance that you needed.

But most of all, he didn't like it that he inflicted such an amount of pain on you that you had to leave him quietly.

For every moment that passes without any news of you, Sylus can feel the anxiousness in him double in numbers. He won't stay still. He needs to find you now.

He grabbed his jacket and was about to get his keys when he heard footsteps approaching his directions.

He hoped that it was you. That you decided to finally come back and maybe hear him out. He quickened his steps but when he saw the red link on his wrists glowing, immediate disappointment consumed him.

“Sylus, I kept calling you but I was sent straight to voicemail," she said with a pout.

“MC, now is not a good time. Please take your leave." he coldly said.

It made her frown and he knew that she's not used to him saying no to her. But it had to be done. He didn't define a proper boundary before and now his life is a mess so even if it's late, he will do his best to straighten up his act.

Maybe if he did this the heavens would smile at him and make you go back to him.

“MC? I thought I'm Miss Hunter? Or Kitten? What happened? Did Mephisto throw that away by the window?"

He just stood there unmoving. Hearing her say that is an additional punch to the gut. Sylus didn't hide anything from you including this. And even if he can't control what he feels, he should've taken control of the things he says.

It's not right to call her those pet names when you exists and it must've been hell for you to hear that rolling off his tongue so naturally.

"I said leave.” he finally managed to get a word out of his mouth.

“Why? I thought we were spending time together to establish our connections? For us to get synced when using our evols?” She inquired with an obvious irritation in her face.

If it were before he lost you, he might have laughed and teased her about it and will add a little bit of sass to rile her up more.

But now? All he can think about is how insensitive he is. An asshole even.

No wonder she left.

No. He can't think like that. He needs you back and he will do everything to see you tonight.

Sylus took a deep breath. He can feel his brows twitching. Every second wasted here is a risk for your safety and what if you come back and see her? What would you think?

He doesn't know exactly why you left but he is not stupid to not know that it has something to do with Miss Hunter.

“I don't want to have any connections with you," Sylus answered.

“What do you mean?"

“See this link?" He asked and showed her his wrist.

“Yes. That connects us, right? You, me, grew from the same soil, kindred spirits like you said." She recounted their previous conversations.

“Good. Now I want us to get rid of it. I want you to get rid of it."

Sylus can see the gears in her head turning at every word he says. He knows he's asking for too much. She doesn't even remember cursing him but Sylus is desperate. He needs to find you and he needs this connection to finally be broken.

He can live without half his soul. He's been doing that for a while now, but he cannot live without you.

"Are you out of your mind?” She exclaimed, "I don't even know how we got tied together and now you want me to break it?”

Sylus is losing hope. He doesn't want her to remember. What's the point? It will hurt her, it will make all of this complicated … but he also needs to break free from this curse.

He will make this conversation quick. He needs to get this out of the way.

“Y/N is missing," he said. “She left me and I know it's because of my own stupidity, but it also has something to do with this bond, MC."

“I-I don't understand,"

“I will explain, but not now.” Sylus met her gaze making sure she understands every word he says, "A lot has happened in the past and it had something to do with a curse that binds me to you in every life we live. And you know what's the worst part? We're always doomed. We don't get to be really happy. I always end up dead and you end up killing me … grieving me.”

Recalling it all, it leaves a bitter taste in his tongue. Always cursed to die, to suffer. To love her but always end up dead. It drained him of hope, of joy, of life.

"It made me who I am today because of all those experiences. Living day to day just to wait for the time that I'll die. But that changed here. It changed because of Y/N. I get to experience the things that I thought I was desensitized of. She made me hope that I can break free of this cycle.”

Sylus held her hand. Begging.

“So please, think of it. Help me find a way to break this cycle."

With a single tear and a shaky voice he begged. “Please let me go."

"Let me go!” You screamed and tried to kick Luke and Kieran. "Get off me!”

"No can do, Madame. You need to go home. Boss Man is going crazy looking for you.” Kieran said. "He's flipping the base inside out just to find you.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Ah so he does remember I exist? I was so close to being free and you just have to drag me back."

Indeed, you're so close to leaving the N109 Zone. Just one step and you're out of their radar but just before you can run, Mephisto’s blocking your way followed by Luke and Kieran.

“I know you've been having a hard time lately and the boss is really at fault. But come home for now. It's dangerous out here. He has a lot of enemies and they won't hesitate to use you to their advantage.” Luke said. “Plus, he has alerted everyone of his trusted alliances and the whole base to guard every entrance and exit in N109 Zone. Even if you manage to step outside you'll be dragged back home.”

“Fine. I guess I have no choice." All that running and hiding just to come back to base and it's not because you want to, but because you can't. You're sure that the moment you run, Mephisto is already tailing you and alerting everyone. Plus, you can't really outrun a bird.

“If you really want to leave, and you have enough reasons, Boss is not heartless enough to cage you. I know that you know it very well." Kieran said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

You didn't give him an answer. You just walked with them to their car and closed your eyes. You can hear the twins updating Sylus that you're with them.

Right … Once you get home, you have no choice but to face the inevitable. You planned to just leave him be and let him live his life with Miss Hunter, but he just has to find you when you don't want to be found.

You're too busy thinking of every possibile thing that you'll say to Sylus and didn't notice the time it took before the car stopped in front of his home. Luke and Kieran left you saying something about giving you privacy. You can't really tell. You're not paying much attention.

Just as you were stepping down from the car, you saw Miss Hunter. Anger bubbled in your chest. You're here being dragged back home with the thought that he's looking for you because he cares but then you're gonna see her here?

You were about to march back to the car when you saw the state that Miss Hunter is in. Her eyes are puffy and red. Looked like she cried. Once she saw you, she avoided your gaze and muttered a brief “I'm sorry," and left.

It was weird. What's happening?

Behind her you saw Sylus running for his life. Immediately, you thought that he's running after her. That's the natural order of things right?

“You're back, you're really back." His hard body slammed yours and you were engulfed in a tight hug. You can feel his erratic heartbeat and his shaking hands that cradle the back of your head.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need anything?"

You looked at him. Your heart is splitting in two.

This is your Sylus. This is the Sylus you loved. The one who only looks at you. The one that loves you.

He's back.

But why now? Why now when you decided that you're done? You tear your gaze away from him.

“Sweetie, please say something." He begged, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him.

“I know I have not been a good boyfriend, but please hear me out, okay?” His voice breaks as he talks to you. You can hear fear, desperation and sadness in them. “I love you, I really do and I'm choosing you. I'm choosing us —”

A hiccup escaped from your lips. Since when did you start sobbing? You didn't know. But your tears are free flowing now. All the hurt that you kept hidden is now out in the open.

“But you left. You left me. You chose her. You always choose her." you said. Like a kid who lost her precious toy, you cried and hit Sylus's chest. “I know everything. You don't have to lie. Sweet Evil Trap, huh? Half of your soul? I know that. I read them in your journal."

“How can you tell me you love me when you have her? You were waiting for her. Not just once but in every lifetime." You sobbed as he pulled you to a hug. He didn't say a word. He just let you pour your heart out.

“All I wanted was one dinner with you. A time for just the two of us, but you're so ready to ditch me because she called. A-and I realized that no matter what you say, that no matter how much you tell me you love me, I can't really compete with her because you don't love me as much as her."

You tried to pull away from him but he just held you closer.

"That's not true, no, no, I love you. No one else. It's just complicated, darling. We have this bond —”

You snapped and pushed him away.

"That stupid bond again! How many times do I have to hear that? How many times do I have to be slapped by the fact that I do not have any connection with you? That you need to discard me as soon as possible to be with your soulmate!?”

He grabbed your wrist when you tried to walk away. “Listen to me first! Yes, there's a bond connecting us but I want it gone! AND IT'S NOT A FUCKING SOULMATE BOND IT'S A CURSE!"

He raised his voice at you and that made you shut up. He never yells at you. This is the first time. And you expect anger to fill his eyes but it's pure sadness and pleading that you give him a chance to tell his truth.

“Sylus,"

“It's a curse, alright? She cursed me to always have my soul tied to her. Yes we did have a past, it was beautifully tragic. She had to kill me. I had her kill me so I could save her. But it gets tiring over time. It gets tiring to always live just to die. I relived that life multiple times and I was not happy anymore.”

You see his tears flowing now. You want to wipe them away but you're stoned in place still trying to process what he said. So when he kissed your hand, you didn't pull away. You saw that it gave him a little relief so you let him continue.

“And then you came. You came and changed everything. For once, I wanted to be happy again. To be selfish again. To live for as long as I can just to be with you. I may have been a fool as of late, but that's the life that I was accustomed to.”

"Once she's here, I know it's a matter of time for me to die and I willingly throw myself in there. Because that's the fate I have to live. And this bond? This energy linkage makes sure that I hurt every time I try to defy my fate. But because of you, for once I have the desire to take control of my life again.”

You cannot stop crying now hearing all of that. He wipes your tears with his thumb and planted kisses on your temple. You mustered the courage to reach for his face and wipe the wetness off his cheeks. He leaned in to your touch savoring every moment.

“I talked to MC, I asked her to help me break the curse she bestowed upon me." He said kissing your palm. “I'm choosing you, sweetie. I'm choosing this life. So please, please let me make it up to you?"

You take a deep breath. You have decided.

"I love you. So, so much,” you gave him a quick kiss. "And thank you for choosing to live your life as your own.”

His hold on your hand tightens, "Baby, please.”

"But I still need to leave.” New waves of tears flowed from the both of you. "I know that you're telling me the truth and you're genuine, but the problem here is not just in your situation with MC but with the conflict on myself as well.”

"Sylus, I'm insecure and I'm having a hard time accepting that you're choosing me. In my head you're saying this because you're guilty. Because you're a good person and you can't bear to see me hurting so you're sacrificing your own happiness just to cater to me.” you said.

“Do you see the point I'm making? I acknowledge your bravery for choosing us, for choosing your happiness, but I also have to make this decision, Sylus. The hurt I felt won't be mended and healed just because you told me all of that. So I need to go away for some time. To heal, and find it in myself to trust you without any speck of doubt. You get me right? If I don't do this, I will just end up hurting you more because I am broken.”

“I need time, Sylus. Time to process and heal. And if by the time we see each other again and you're still feeling the same thing and I am as well, then maybe we'll go from there."

It was hard for Sylus but he knows that you need this. That you both need this. So despite not liking the idea of you leaving and the fear of the possibility that you won't be back, he nods his head. It was his own fault that you're thinking that way. He broke you and mere words are not enough to mend your heart.

He will live his life as his own. He will hope that you will keep him in your heart because he is sure that he won't be able to find anyone to love aside from you.

“I understand, darling." he replied, “I am so sorry for putting you through that, but please know that I love you and if ever you find it in your heart to come back to me, you know where to find me."

That same night, you packed your bags and left the N109 Zone. Sylus took you to Linkon. He remembered looking at your back as you walked away. Your shoulders obviously shaking as you cry.

That night was the night that Sylus felt the loneliest he has ever been. That night, Sylus wished that you'll find happiness and come back to him.

But if you don't?

Then he'll just be content and happy that even for a brief time it felt like he truly lived again.

OMG last part? Hmm Yes, No, Maybe so?

Reactions, reblogs and comments are welcome please let me hear them. Thank youuuu

[softaestluv]

Grease & Grime Won’t Break Your Bones

You never thought you were attracted to grease and grime, sweat and exhaustion, definitely needed a shower and scrub, but no one has worn it like he is.

Mechanic! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem! reader

Tags: dirty, greasy, grimy, sweaty, blue collar worker, yeah I’ll take one of those! you own a pick up, & I actually don’t know anything about cars, eventual smut

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Ao3

You’re entirely too eager to return to ‘Ghost’s Garage.’ Maybe you walk through the front doors of the rundown shop a little early, definitely do.

Your shitty pick-up probably only needs to be topped off, but you did drive 3000 miles, and it’s not like being on top of maintenance would hurt.

So, you brush your arrival off as maintaining the integrity of your pick-up, and not the fact that sweat drenched skin and a Manchester accent hasn’t left the confines of your mind since.

Unfortunately, you’re not greeted by Simon when you arrive, instead, blonde hair is replaced with a brown Mohawk, said English accent replaced by a Scottish one.

“Oi, hello lass!” The man greets, a wide smile on his lips.

“Oh, hi,” You respond, giving him a tight smile in return, “Is Simon not here?”

“Aye, he’s busy wi’ another car right now, but ah can help ye, nae worries,” He explains, with an encouraging nod.

You try your best to hide the disappointment in your tone, but its hard when you did your hair this morning with Simon in mind, when you wore your uncomfortable pencil skirt to work with him in mind, when you showed up after work instead of on your day off because you had been hoping that you could see him just as filthy after a full days of work.

“Ah, okay,” You mumble quietly, “I just need my oil changed is all.”

You can’t help, but mourn the money you’re about to spend on an oil change you don’t really need, when the whole reason you were so adamant to return isn’t plausible. It’s too late to walk out now, how desperate would you look if you left because Simon wouldn’t be the one working on your car?

So, you accept your fate, that it wasn’t in the cards, listen to the new man’s instructions and pull your truck into the service drive.

Guilt eats at your chest because it’s not really the mohawked mans fault; he isn’t even ugly, definitely a sight for sore eyes— desperate eyes that is. He wears less than Simon had, a white tank top that’s a little too tight for him, and worn in jeans with more than one rip in them. Wears it a little braver than Simon had, smug and confident, probably a heartthrob for all the mom’s cars he works on, probably flirts with all of them too with no actual intentions, just to make them feel good.

When you park in the service drive, your wandering eyes find Simon across the garage, bent over the hood of a car. It’s not your truck; you won’t get to talk to him, but you think it’s worth it when he’s bent so low over the sedan that his white shirt rises over his hips as he reaches forward. The sliver revealed is paler than the rest of his bronzed skin, freckles littered across the lighter flesh, draws excess saliva in your cheeks, embarrassingly so, over an inch of skin.

But it makes your mind wander, filthy images of connecting the sun marks with timid fingers and shaking hesitation, find out how far down the brown freckles trail.

You don’t have to imagine for long, not when he realizes you’re standing across the garage, gawking at him with a ravenous hunger in your eyes, and starts to walk over to you. He dabs at the sweat on his hairline, makes his shirt rise even higher, reveals light brown freckles curled over his abdomen and a blonde happy trail disappearing into his coveralls.

It’s almost impossible to force your eyes up, find his gaze when he’s walking around like that. With his fucking happy trail on display between the sweat drenched skin and grimy oil marks. The spitting image of a hard working man, powerful and stout, makes a stinging warmth coil in your limbs, thighs pressing tightly together.

“Hi,” You squeak when he stops in front of you, cheeks burning hot in embarrassment because you can’t decide if getting caught drawing lewd shapes with his freckles outweighs the reward of him approaching you.

“Hi, sweeth’art.”— and you decide right then and there that getting caught was worth it when the deep timbre of his voice washes over your shoulders.

He’s positively filthy, more so than last time.

Wet, greasy.

You can smell it on him just as strongly as you can see it on his skin. Like car oil that sat out for too long, the rubber burnt off tires.

A heavy musk, acrid, pungent odor.

You have half the mind to know you should be disgusted by it, that a dirty mechanic calling you a term of endearment should crawl under your skin and make you uncomfortable, but it does the complete opposite. It’s not like you have much of a fight in that game when you were just greedily memorizing his blonde tufts of hair, picturing how it would curl over his pelvis, matted and damp from his hard work.

Even still, you’re pinpointing all the places fingerprint grease stains would imprint on your skin in his wake. How thick the layers of sweat and grime would taste on your tongue.

“Johnny, I got ‘his one, okay?” He shouts to the other side of the garage.

Johnny wears a devious smirk on his face, but Simon doesn’t let you see it for long, shifting to face you just as quickly as he wore it.

You’re not sure if you took a step forward or if Simon was standing this close to begin with. Maybe he was just truly this massive, but you have to tilt your head back just to look at him. He doesn’t necessarily make it easy either, not when he stares down at you with piercing eyes, makes you feel out of your own skin.

“You jus’ need yer oil again?” He asks.

You nod, licking your lips, “Yes, but I thought you were busy? You don’t have to stop to help.”

“Don’t y’worry,” He reassures, shaking his head, “I’ll do it, told you t’come back ‘n you listened didn’t ya?”

You can’t do anything else but nod because you did listen, practically thought of any excuse to find yourself back in his office, his thick build over your engine over you, as soon as possible.

Simon’s lips twitch at your agreement, “Jus’ sit in my office, yeah? No worries, I’ll take care of you.”

You find yourself back in Simon’s office, a warmth to your skin that you can’t seem to shake, not when you keep thinking of every imaginable way he could take care of you. It only gets worse when you perch yourself on the edge of the seat to get the best view of him working on your pick-up.

Maybe it’s something primal, but seeing his large frame bent over, working on your truck and not someone else’s sedan flares satisfaction in your chest. Especially when you watch his sweat drip from his forehead onto your engine, splattered droplets on your blue hood.

If it was anyone else it would make your stomach twist in disgust, gnawing at the back of your mind until you could wipe the hood clean, but it’s not. You’re not entirely sure why you feel this way, maybe it’s his physique that allows you to brush these things off, but it scratches at something carnal in your conscious.

You don’t get much time to appreciate the divots in his shoulders and neck like you truly wanted, like a specimen of his kind really deserves, when Johnny walks in the room. You fall back into the chair quickly, trying to hide the way you were practically leaning forward desperately to see Simon.

He wears a knowing smile, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything about it, “Didnae think ma work would be up tae par?”

You chuckle lightly, shaking your head, “No, Simon insisted.”

“Never heard of tha’ man takin’ on extra work willingly,” He jokes, leaning against the window sill— quiet irritation settling in your stomach as he covers Simon completely from your view.

“Must be that skirt yer wearin’.”

Your eyes widen, face burning, “Jus’ my work clothes.”

You’re not lying, they are your work clothes, just happen to be the more form fitting ones, is all.

“And your work clothes?” You remark, arching your brow at him, gesturing from head to toe, because his outfit is entirely more barren than yours is.

“Workin’ man’s uniform,” He shrugs nonchalantly, but he struts across the thin office and does a twirl for you, propping his hip out as he poses.

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, Simon walks into the office.

“Johnny, I thought I told ya to stop harassin’ our customers.”

“Ah’m doin’ nae such thing. Just tellin’ lass here she might’ve got oil grease on her skirt.”

You furrow your brows at his words, looking down at the front of your skirt with a pout because you really didn’t want to stain the skirt without a purpose, except you don’t see anything.

“Nae, nae,” He shakes his head, gesturing to your back.

You do a spin of sorts, arching your head to find what he’s referring to.

“Johnny.” Simon spits.

His tone has more bite to it than you completely understand, but he grabs your arm, pushing you to face forward again.

“There’s nothin’,” Simon explains.

You’re still confused, brows still pinched together, until you look at Johnny, a proud smile smeared across his face.

“Aw, come on, ye liked it jus’ as much, Si,” Johnny teases, realization dawning on you, throat constricting in embarrassment, but he mumbles an apologize when he meets Simon’s scowl.

“Your pick-ups ready for ya,” Simon says, ignoring Johnny.

You follow him out of the office gratefully, too humiliated to even think for yourself right now.

“Is it too much?” You ask Simon with a frown.

“Huh?”

You tug on the seams of your skirt as an explanation.

“Oh,” He says before pausing, “No, no ‘ts not— you look great.”

“Thank you,” You murmur bashfully, atleast you got a compliment out of the whole ordeal, “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothin’.”

“No!” You protest, “You have to let me pay you back somehow!”

You’re not prepared for the way his expression changes, irises dipping into something dark, and you’re definitely not prepared for his next request.

“Do a twirl just f’me?”

✦.─Masterlist ─.✦

[joonberriess]

t h e b o y i s m i n e

⋆ TAGS — mean!jk, heavy degradation, sub!oc vibes, fingering, creampiess, pussy eating, oc is super sensitive hehe, cock warming in the car, ass play(?), intense cow girl moment, dirty talk, mentions of squirting(?), messy sex, oc is cunty (CUNT CUNT CUNT), RED MF FLAGS, jk ain’t shit and neither is oc, mentions of cheating, possessive!oc don’t play about her bestie, joon n oc moment bc why not, she’s lowkey a bimbo, jk likes mocking oc, nasty sex, jk’s a simp for his bestie, oc whines a lot lol, 4liferrrsssss, oc messy asf but jk is too

⋆ WORD COUNT — 6.2 k

‘Something’s not right.’ Is what Sujin begins to think right off the bat when her boyfriend brings her to meet his “best friend”. Sujin already knew that Jungkook had a “girl” best friend wayy before she even talked to the man. All her friends were against it when she told them she was interested in Jungkook.

“No girl, you’re gonna regret it like big time. That man is going to have you looking like a fool.” They’d say but Sujin seemed hard of hearing..

Sujin knew what she was getting into but nothing could have prepared her for the hot piping mess being served in front of her face. For fucks sake her boyfriend couldn’t even fucking sit next to her because he chose to sit with “y/n”. Sujin wants to think it’s a childhood thing, maybe that’s why they’re so unnaturally close.

“Oh.” Sujin says when y/n tells her that no, they in fact met almost two years ago as college freshmans. (Sujin’s beginning to run out of ideas to make up in her head so she doesn’t go insane over the sight of you casually touching her boyfriend and Jungkook letting it happen?) Jungkook even helps separate your perilla leaf with his chopsticks.

What are you a child? Sujin’s NOT liking this so far.

“So,” Sujin smiles as politely as she can muster, “how’d you guys meet?”

You smile softly back at her, “My brother has a frat house and Jungkook happened to join, we only met cause my brother was forcing his frat guys to help me move into my new apartment. He made them do it shirtless which was pretty funny.”

Sujin nods slowly, “Ohh.. how nice. So like you guys started hanging out or what’s the deal?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I saw her manga books and we bonded over that,” he keeps it curt, like he’s not interested in talking to her (his own girlfriend), “we started chilling and yeah.” Sujin fucking hates when he talks to her like he’s bored already.

“He kept saying I reminded him of Bayonetta!” You pipe back in with a dreamy smile.

“Uh-huh, Bayonetta..” Sujin clears her throat and shifts around in her seat, “Uhh well, I think it’s getting a bit late no? Kinda time for me to get going.”

You purse your lips in a soft pout and nod at her, “I see.. I hope to see you again, you’re really nice and pretty.” You coo, “Jungkookie’s super lucky to have you,” Sujin appreciates your sincerity but she’s not so sure if she can look past how close you are with her boyfriend.

“You didn’t bring your car didn’t you?” Jungkook suddenly says, “C’mon I’ll drive you.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you take.

Sujin’s jaw nearly drops as HER boyfriend slings your purse over his shoulder and helps you up, guiding you out of the booth by a hand to your back.

“Jungkook.” Sujin snaps, “I think she’s got it don’t you think?” Her boyfriend turns to look at her, and proceeds to give her the meanest fucking mug ever. Like if she had the audacity to ruin whatever the fuck was happening in front her. “What?” Sujin raises a brow.

You look up at Jungkook with those stupid puppy eyes of yours, “I can call an uber no biggie.” You say softly.

“Hey, since our meeting was cut so short, how bout I pay for it, yeah?” Sujin smiles while whipping her phone out and pressing ‘request’, like she didn’t have that ride ready to order.

Jungkook does that thing when he’s pissed where he pokes his tongue inside his cheek, he has the audacity to have a staredown with her but Sujin doesn’t back down. “..Yeah, I’ll walk you out then y/n.”

“It was nice meeting you.” You softly say while hugging Sujin tightly before waltzing out the door with Jungkook’s hand over your hip.

Sujin has to pinch the bridge of her nose, on one hand you’re the sweetest thing ever but c’mon you can’t be THAT dense can you? Sujin would have liked you in another world where you weren’t trying to get with her boyfriend.

Sujin looks out of the window and sees Jungkook leaning against the car door while you slip into the back. He’s telling you something and you’re looking at him like he’s hung the fucking stars or something. Luckily nothing happens and Jungkook closes the door before stepping back to watch the car take off.

“Fucking prick.” Sujin mutters under her breath as she steps out with a pissed look. “What the fuck was that Jungkook, huh? You gonna sit there and lie to my face and tell me not to worry about her? Answer me.” She lightly hits his arm.

Jungkook sighs deeply, “What? Fuck are you on right now, the night was going so good I don’t see the problem here.”

His nonchalant attitude makes her seethe even more, “Jungkook, she has no fucking boundaries and you don’t seem to give a shit about that, I’m the GIRLFRIEND here but this fucking turned into me meeting you two instead of her meeting me. It’s fucking humiliating watching her put hands on my boyfriend and worse that you chose to sit with her.”

“And yet you knew I was friends with her. Literally that’s everything everyone’s been telling you before I brought you here to meet her, be prepared for how close y/n is with me. This isn’t brand new to you Sujin.” Jungkook replies while fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.

Sujin watches in disbelief as he lights it and takes a drag like nothing, “That doesn’t make it okay for her to do that though. Close or not I don’t give a fuck Jungkook, you’re either with me or you’re not.” She snaps, “So tell me now before I waste my fucking time.”

Jungkook takes his sweet time, puffing away as he watches the smoke disappear into the night sky, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Sujin tilts her head, “Okay, what?”

“It’s over.” And just like that Sujin’s jaw drops for real this time, she’s utterly gagged into silence as she watches her (now) ex-boyfriend stomp out the cigarette before turning to her with a sinister look in his eye, “Bye.” He passes without as much as a glance, leaving her silent.

Sujin turns her head and watches him leave, “What the fuck.” She whispers.

.

(Not even an hour later.)

“Okay, this one or this one?” You held up two different babydoll dresses—one white with delicate frills, the other silk but more of a bodycon-type but it had a cute bow on it so why not.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flick up from his phone, he stares at both of the dresses for a cool minute before nodding his head, “The white one.” He leans back with one arm on the bed and both legs spread apart (gosh him and his manspreading).

“I thought so too!” You happily say and carelessly toss it into the pile of clothes lying in your open suitcase, “Okay now help me decide between my sneakers or my ballet flats?” He doesn’t even answer cause he’s busy laughing at something on his phone.

“Jungkooookkk,” you huff irritably but this man does not look up. He just toys with his stupid lip ring while smiling down at his screen.

You let the shoes hit the ground as you quietly saunter over, slipping right into his lap with practiced ease. He doesn’t react because this is an all too familiar scene for him. He hooks his arm around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder, still scrolling mindlessly. “What’s up? Hm.” He murmurs.

“I needed your help choosing which shoes I should take.” You hide your face in his neck and lay one tiny kiss on it, “You’re mean.”

“Am I?” Jungkook brings you down with him when he slowly lays back on the bed. He tosses his phone somewhere and rests his arm behind his head. His free hand strokes your backside, cheekily stopping right above your ass before repeating.

Your hands settle over his toned stomach where his shirt has ridden up revealing his beautiful physique underneath. His damn Calvin Klein boxers hug him just right too, hanging low over his hips where a small amount of hair leads down…you know where..

“Mm-hm, ‘s not nice to ignore me.” You nod with a dreamy look, pillowy lips pursed (which make them much more alluring in Jungkook’s humble opinion).

Jungkook hums again and runs his hand over your ass, landing small little pats of appreciation here ‘n there, “It isn’t huh,” he trails off quietly while tattooed fingers make work of the bow tied around the front of your shorts.

You shake your head and come down so that you’re chest to chest with Jungkook, face leveled with his as the two of you stare into each other's eyes. “No,” you softly say, nimble fingers creeping under his shirt to trail up his middle with light feathery touches.

“No.” He softly mimics in a high-pitched tone that’s meant to sound like you, “You’re so fuckin’ cute, but you might wanna get a move on though cause the guys are gonna be here any minute now ‘n you don’t want them to come in and see what a desperate little thing you are? No huh,” he mock pouts while tapping your cheek.

“You’re mean! I’m not talking to you for ten whole minutes.” You huff angrily and get off his lap, “Stop laughing, it's not funny.” You’re whining again before you can even stop yourself. It makes him double over in laughter, shoulders shaking and all too.

“My bad, my bad, I didn’t realize you were still upset over the shoes.” He chuckles while sitting back up with messy hair, “C’mere I’ll make it better.” He waves his hand, “C’mere! I’m not joking!” He laughs because you look at him incredulously.

You fold your arms over your chest and turn away, “No, I have to pack remember?” You’re shoving clothes into your suitcase with a quiet huff.

“Yeah, yeah.” You don’t even notice when he comes up behind and hauls you up into his arms. Jungkook tosses you on the bed like nothing causing you to yelp in surprise as your body bounces off the mattress a little, “If I give you a kiss will you quit your fuckin’ pouting?” He smirks.

You nod vigorously, “I want one here, here, and here.” You tap different areas on your face.

“I said one, not fucking five,” he snorts while peppering your face in small smooches regardless because he could never resist a pretty girl like you, “dumb little thing you are.”

“They don’t count as real kisses.” You smugly reply.

Jungkook smirks, “Oh, and what does hm? Give your Jungkookie a kiss and show me.” Without hesitating you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.

You’re lips locked, softly moaning as he kisses the fuck out of you. It’s the way his lips glide over yours so smoothly like you’re meant to be kissing. All you can really do is dreamily sigh while his tongue runs over the seam of your lips. Of course you let him in and the kiss gets filthier if possible.

You feel his hand slide up your back slowly until he’s hooking his finger under the strap of your flimsy sleep top. He watches in hunger as your tit slips out from under the top, perky nipple already hard as he leans down to wrap his lips around it. The pleasure is hot when his tongue presses down on the bud, he has you whimpering quietly while burying your fingers through his hair.

“Mmm–Jungkook, wait,” you breathlessly sigh while pushing his face away, “Sujin.” You softly say while playing with his hair, “What ‘bout her?”

Jungkook stares back up at you through hooded eyes, “Who?” He replies to which you grin back, “Hm, just let me enjoy your tits in peace.” He crudely mumbles before taking your nipple back into his hot mouth.

He fondles and squeezes your other tit while sucking on your rather sensitive teat. The heat between your legs is unbearable, Jungkook knew damn well why you hated having your nipples played with yet he carried on without a care. Your poor clit throbbed from neglect and your pussy was slicking up by the second, you fear a glob would slip out if he dared to switch your positions.

“J-Jungkook..!” You huff and press your thighs together hoping to alleviate some of the heat.

He pinches hard causing you to whine, it doesn’t stop him because he’s then using a hint of teeth on your sensitive bud. “Oh..!” Your mouth falls open and your back arches off the bed, thighs shaky and wobbly.

Jungkook pulls away with a string of slick connecting to your nipple, “Turn over baby,” he smacks your ass hard and jiggles your cheek, “arch that pretty back for me, yeahh like that—low.” He darkly comments while watching you turn over with your hips raised high and front flat to the bed.

He shuffles around and gets behind you holding you steady with a hand to your hip. “Pull ‘em to the side,” he says while lazily pushing his sweats down, shoving them low enough till they’re right under his balls, “How desperate are you, hm? How bad do you want this cock baby?” He grins while slapping the tip through your dewy sticky folds.

You bite your lip and reach behind you to hold yourself open for him, “Bad, need it so bad Jungkookie..feel so empty without it.” You pout while pushing back until his cock gets trapped between your thighs, the thick shaft pressing right up against your throbbing little clit.

“Yeah?” Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna let me have it?” He murmurs as his cock slides through the mess between your thighs, globs of slick coating the shaft.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod.

“Mm-hm.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a rough smack to your ass, “Push me in baby.”

You reach back to rub his cock through your folds, tapping the tip against your needy hole until it catches. Your breath hitches as the tip pops in, he doesn’t make a move to shove himself deeper or anything—he stays perfectly still.

“Jungkook!” You turn to glare back at him, “S-Stop teasing me.”

“I’m not doing anything, if you want it you know what to do.” Jungkook grins while biting his lip, “You know what I wanna see baby, don’t play dumb.”

You grumble under your breath and slowly push your hips back until your ass meets his pelvis. There’s a low squelch as the rest of his cock slips in and as much as you would’ve loved for him to fuck you, this was also good. You pant hotly into the pillow and wiggle around with soft little ‘mm’s as Jungkook rubs his hand over your hip and holds you steady.

“There you go, bring it back for me,” he huskily mumbles while watching the ripple of your cheeks jiggle each time your ass meets his pelvis.

Little clapping noises begin to rise subtly as your pace gets quicker and quicker. You meet him thrust for thrust, there’s a low fopping sound as his balls make contact with your puckered lips, pressing right up against you each time you bottom out.

Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the sight of your pretty pink rim hugging his cock tight each time he backstrokes. His cock is covered in a sheen of slick and he swears every time he pushes back in he comes back out with more.

“So messy,” he lays his thumb over your other puckered hole, “hear that?” He grunts, “Sloppy lil cunt taking me so well, got you creaming for me.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches when his thumb accidentally slips through the tight barrier and into your ass. You loudly mewl and buck your hips in surprise, it doesn’t hurt but it feels weird..weird in a good way though.

“Oh, you like that don’t you?” He licks his lips, “Baby loves having her holes filled up doesn’t she?”

You moan in response and bury your face in the pillow with muffled cries. The pleasure shoots up your spine and has you curling in on yourself. Your cunt throbs like crazy now and everything somehow feels ten times better than before.

“Answer me.” Jungkook slaps your cheek rather hard.

“Mmph–y-yes..!” You whimper despite the pillow being in your mouth.

“Yea,” he laughs as he suddenly snaps his hips up, “you love it don’t you? Can’t get enough of this cock.” He plows into you with repeated thrusts, each one jostling you up the bed and sending you into a pleasure hazed mind.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as Jungkook grips you by the hip with one hand and slams you back onto his cock. Your toes curl from the intensity of his cock slamming into your g-spot while his thumb fills your ass. The heat coiling in your tummy has you squirming and whimpering.

“Too much? Where you goin?” You don’t realize you’re actively moving away from him till his cock threatens to slip out, “You can take it baby, don’t run.” He laughs low while dragging you right back onto his cock.

In fact he follows you down till you’re laying flat on the bed and his thumb slips out of your puckered hole, “Gonna cum? Hm?” He lays flat over your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t go stupid on me.” He smacks your cheek gently a couple of times.

“Yes..!” You gasp breathily, “S-So, so close..” Your voice sounds wobbly and garbled, and the shaking in your thighs doesn’t stop.

Jungkook coos, “So close,” he buries his face in the side of your neck and leaves marks of his own there, “go on, cum on this dick.”

Your lips part and you let out a high-pitched mewl, your pussy spasms around him with your cunt squeezing and massaging his cock. Your eyes slip shut and you slump against the bed with a whine, the orgasm took the life out of you.

“Fuuckk,” he sighs as he slows down, grinding his cock in and out of the mess between your thighs, “good girl,” he groans softly until he comes to a stop and stills.

His cock throbs and twitches, spurt after spurt of cum filling you to the brim. You can feel some of it slide out with globs of your own slick. Jungkook hums deeply and gives your ass a pat of appreciation, “Shower?” He asks softly.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod still face down in the sheets.

“Mm-hm.” Jungkook copies while laughing to himself as he slips out of your cunt with a lewd squelch. You don’t even have the energy to fight with him right now, you’re just ready for bed at this point.

+

You can’t help the little yawn that escapes as you turn your face to tuck yourself into Jungkook’s side. Whose idea was it to take a roadtrip to Busan, you don’t know but you’re barely even awake after that rough fucking.

You and Jungkook had opted to sit in the back away from everyone and enjoy each other’s company instead. Jungkook’s hand came to rest over your thigh like that’s his permanent spot.

So far the ride is peaceful, Yoongi’s managed to successfully get you all out of the city and onto the highway (thanks to Namjoon’s excellent navigation skills). In front of you Jimin’s knocked out while Taehyung watches something on his phone. Namjoon’s talking with Yoongi about something you can’t bring yourself to care for.

You can feel your eyelids getting heavier by the second and it feels like you’re about to slip into the best sleep ever when Jungkook stops you. Not literally, but it still feels like it with the way he slides his hand up your bare thigh.

“Hm?” You sleepily look up wondering what on Earth he was up to now.

Jungkook pats you, “C’mere, want you on my lap baby.” He mutters as quietly as he can.

You rub your eyes and slip yourself on to his lap, tucking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing your thighs on either side of him. God bless that you chose to wear your thin sleeping shorts and slutty juicy sweater, Jungkook can just about feel your perky tits through the soft material.

“Shh.. not a peep or else I’m gonna gag you with your panties.” He mumbles low in your ear, stroking over your back to keep you calm.

“Jungkookie–”

“Jungkookie needs you to shut the fuck up, can you do that for me?” He squeezes your ass and kneads both cheeks rather roughly, “Good girl.”

“If they look, I’m not stopping. So if I were you I’d keep quiet baby, unless you want Joon and them to know how much of a cock hungry slut you are.”

He sounds so fucking calm but his words are the complete opposite, you find yourself holding in your desperate whines. “Can you..?”

“Can I what?” He slips his hand under your shorts and tugs it to the side alongside your panties, “Hm?”

You bite your lip and lift your hips, “Want something in me, I feel so empty Kook..” You breathe out and wrap your arms around his neck.

Through the drowsiness you faintly make out his soft curses as he whispers under his breath. Jungkook pokes at your slit and slips his fingers through your messy folds.

“Take my cock out,” he mumbles and you happily reach between the two of you to slip your hand into his sweats.

His cock throbs when your soft hand wraps around it, he has to bite his lip when you dig your thumb into the slit and swipe over the messy head. “Don’t tease..” He grunts with a small sharp smack to your ass.

You lift your hips and with his help manage to slip his cock through your dewy folds. You blindly slap the tip against your slicked up hole, the tip catching on your rim.

“Slow,” he sounds calm and collected but the way he swallows harshly tells you otherwise.

You bite your moans back and push yourself until your ass is meeting his thighs. The heat in your belly pools and your poor clit throbs. Is it you or the car feels hotter?

You hide your face in his neck and suck over old and new hickeys you’ve left these past days. Jungkook relaxes into the seat and sighs, luckily it doesn’t sound like it’s out of the ordinary.

“You can sleep now.” Jungkook off-handedly mumbles while closing his eyes, leaving you utterly speechless. You’re not entirely surprised given his little track record of being mean and shit.

“G’night..” You softly mumble and kiss his cheek, you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Maybe if you’re a good girl he’ll make you cum later on..yeah, that sounds amazing, you smile in your sleep and drift off into dreamland with a cunt full of cock.

.

“So hot..” You softly mumble while fanning yourself with a make-shift fan.

Everyone but Namjoon went out today to explore the town and shit. You opted to stay back and wait for the sun to die down to go out later. Namjoon said something about keeping you company so you didn’t mind.

Here you are laying on the ground with your legs thrown up on the couch over Namjoon’s lap. Your pretty babydoll dress rides up your thighs and you occasionally catch Namjoon’s gaze drifting down. What a sight is it to see—veiny big hands plastered over your soft ankles toying with your cherry charm anklet.

“Namjoon, if penguins are related to the bird family, how come they can't fly?” You softly say while looking at him through your lashes.

“I dunno,” He shrugs while stroking over your foot, “environmental and evolutionary reasons maybe?”

You pout and tilt your head back to watch the TV, “I think they’re cute.”

“Why don’t you find one and give it a kiss then?” Namjoon smirks in amusement, “Maybe Jungkookie can save you if it tries to attack you or something.”

“Not funny.” You whine kicking your sock-clad foot at him, but he catches it and tugs on your foot.

You squeal softly as he ends up dragging you upwards just a tiny bit, “Owie let go, you’re squeezing my freaking bone.” You giggle.

Namjoon lets your foot go with a laugh, “My bad, my bad.” He raises his hands in surrender, “You can tell your Jungkookie to kiss it all better when he comes back yeah?” He grins.

“Ugh you’re also mean.” You huff while sitting up feeling light headed cause you were laying on the ground for so long. “You and Jungkook.” You mumble and climb onto the couch with him.

Jungkook finds you two like that. You’re tangled up with Namjoon side by side, legs thrown over his lap as he strokes over your soft thigh. Namjoon’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone and you’re just you watching some animal documentary on the TV.

“Hey.” Jungkook greets while falling on another sofa.

“Back already,” Namjoon hums, “where’s the others?”

“Out, they went to the beach cause Jimin wanted to go. It was fuckin’ hot so I came back, we didn’t do much but walk around the tour shops and shit.”

You lift a leg in the air to admire your pretty anklet, “Did you bring me anything?” You softly ask.

“Yeah, it’s in the bag.” Jungkook replies calmly as he fishes his phone out and does whatever the hell he usually does on that thing.

With both men preoccupied with their phones you decide to head outside to sunbathe. God bless the airbnb for having a private pool. “Where you going?” Jungkook mumbles, not looking up from his screen.

“Sunbathing.” You curtly reply and head outside through the large patio doors.

It’s hot as hell but you don’t care as you kick your socks off and strip out of your babydoll dress. You happily lay your towel out on the grass and set up a mini umbrella. Once you're happy with your setup you lay on your back and slip your heart shaped glasses on.

You can hear Namjoon and Jungkook talking in the background faintly, something about Sujin but you honestly don’t bring yourself to care much. Along the lines Jungkook mentions Sujin texting him again, Namjoon says “oh shit really” and then Jungkook tells him everything.

“..giving… chance… again..?” You can’t make out the entire convo. You crack a slow smile and turn over on your belly, legs kicked up and your feet in the air as you call out to the boys.

“Can someone bring me my phone?” Your voice soft and velvety, you slip your glasses up on your head and flutter your lashes, “Please?”

Jungkook stops talking and looks over the coffee table before stepping out with your phone in hand. “Look at you all cute and shit, enjoying your sunbathing?” Jungkook asks as he squats down in front of you.

“Yep, it’d be funner if you and Joonie joined me though.” You softly hum while tilting your head up and letting Jungkook lay a kiss over your soft lips.

“Yeah..?” He murmurs low. It’s glaringly obvious you have this man wrapped around your little fingers. It’s like you didn’t even have to try with him.

“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the house.

You roll over on your back with a satisfied smile, slipping your glasses back on as you hum, “The boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him,”

+

Maybe Jungkook’s the one trying you right now. It’s not even nine am yet..

Your thighs encase his head like a pair of soft earmuffs, he’s got his tongue dipped between your messy folds with your pussy stuffed in his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care though, he’s got his strong big arms wrapped around your thighs as he holds you down and makes you take it.

Your clit’s just as sensitive as every other part of you, and Jungkook just loves to make you shake. He traces the tip of his tongue over your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth with quick strokes. It has your lips parting and your head leaning back from the cloudy pleasure.

“Oh..” You roll your hips upward into his eager mouth, something that greatly pleases Jungkook.

He slips his tongue lower and flicks it upward to get a taste of all that creamy slick gushing from your empty cunt. You slap a hand over your mouth and whimper when he goes back to your poor clit. This time though he wraps his lips around it and gives it a harsh, mean suck.

Jungkook flicks his dark eyes up to look at you, just watching as you lose yourself on his tongue. The way your tummy goes taut and your body stiff when he grazes his teeth over your clit sends a dark thrill down his spine. He wants to see more, so he’s going to get more.

“J-Jungkook!” You cry out as he stuffs his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy.

There’s a loud squelch each time he slaps his fingers up into your greedy cunt. Your pussy’s literally leaking as small dribbles of squirt oozes out with each passing second. You’re shaking, thighs struggling to stay open and not clamp down on his head. Your lower half shakes slightly from his rough movements and your pussy makes these nasty wet sounds.

“Wait,” you sob and reach down to grip his hair, “ ‘m so close..! P-Please, please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for—go, stop?

The heat in your tummy builds quickly and you’re teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm when he suddenly stops. All at once both his fingers and mouth are gone as he pulls away while harshly panting. You can’t even complain but the intensity has your heart racing with excitement and fear.

“Okay?” He quietly asks while stroking your thigh gently.

You take a couple of seconds to catch your breath, meekly nodding as you bite your lip, “ ‘m okay.” You softly reply.

He climbs up the bed and hovers over you, necklace dangling in your face as you stare up at him with glossy eyes. “Kiss?” You softly say while parting your pillowy soft lips. He’s very much happy to oblige of course..

You lazily make out, your lips feel swollen and they’re glossy from spit. He doesn’t let you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips and reel you back in with a hand to the back of your neck. His hand tightly grips your hair and teasingly tugs because he knows you’re a little slut for it.

You moan into his mouth and needily press yourself closer to him, hooking your thigh over his hip just so you could press your needy pussy against him. Everything feels hot and you don’t like it, Jungkook’s not helping with the way he drops his other hand down to your ass cheek, gripping it tight and using his grip to yank you even closer.

Body to body, you’re rolling your hips up to feel the tent in his boxers. It’s mouth watering when the curve of his thick cock presses into your inner thigh, so close to where you need him the most..

Jungkook tightens his grip on your hip, it’s bruising even as he presses himself into you and rubs his cock over your soaked pussy. The rough friction has your toes curling and another needy gasp escaping. He pulls away from the kiss with a wild look in his eye, he pants quietly as he shoves his boxers off and tosses them somewhere.

“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he holds his heavy cock in his hand, stroking over it slowly as he looks down at your glistening cunt, “just like that..” He mumbles darkly.

You hook your arms around your thighs and pull them up to your chest so that your pussy is laid out bare for him. You bite your lip in anticipation and try your best to stay still when he taps the tip over your swollen clit.

“Look so pretty like this,” he muses as he slips his cock in inch by inch, “prettier down here too.” He grins as he lays his thumb over your clit and rubs it side to side slowly.

You let out a long “mm” as his cock fills you over and over again, filling you in the right places combined with his gentle strokes over your clit. He’s got you dripping even more as his cock re-surfaces covered with your creamy slick.

Jungkook rolls his hips into yours slowly, you can hear the quiet grunts and moans slip from his lips as he remains focused on the spot where you’re connected. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and his thumb becomes jerky as he messily swipes over your bud.

You get the urge to ride the fuck out of him, he’s been nothing but doting and now you want to return the favor. Always the giver but never the receiver, and you’re going to change that.

“Jungkookie,” you softly sigh as his eyes snap up to your face, “wanna ride you,” you pout, “can I pretty please?” You purposely squeeze around his cock as he back strokes slowly.

“Yeah,” he softly breathes out and lifts you up into his lap as he switches places with you.

You huff as his cock somehow slips deeper in the new position, “No, you lay back and let me do it.” His eyes widened slightly at your demanding tone, “I wanna make you feel good too..” You pout and wiggle around in his lap.

Jungkook bites his lip and lets his hand fall to your thighs, “Fuck–okay, yeah,” he lays his head back on the pillow and swallows harshly as you smile down at him and lay a soft kiss on his lips.

“Fuck,” he groans when you turn around in his lap to ride him reverse cowgirl. He lays his hands over the fat of your ass and smacks each cheek repeatedly while you grind yourself in his lap.

Your moans spill from your lips as you arch your back and roll your hips back and forth. Behind you Jungkook sounds like he’s having the time of his life as he holds your ass tightly in both hands. The noises he makes only fuel your desire more as you rock yourself in his lap.

“Mm–fills me up so good,” you tilt your head back with a teasing smile, “can feel it so deep in my pussy.”

Jungkook growls low and spanks you harder, “Yeah? You like knowing you’re the only one taking my cock like this huh,” he smirks, “ ‘s all yours baby.”

You huff softly and look at him over your shoulder with puppy eyes, “Mine only.” You nod, “Not hers,” you roughly slap your hips back, catching him off guard as he grunts, “Right?”

“Only you.” Jungkook sighs as he tugs you back so that you’re grinding over his cock the way he likes, “Always yours.” He murmurs.

You smile happily and begin bouncing in his lap, your ass claps against his pelvis as low fopping noises build up. The bed creaks a little and your skin smacks together as you get a little wild with it.

Your moans rise in volume alongside his as the two of you lose yourselves in your rough fucking. Your pussy clamps down when the tip of his cock brushes over your g-spot repeatedly. You have to put your hands on the bed for support as you whimper and grind quickly on his lap.

“F-Fuck..” You whimper low as your thighs begin to tremble again.

Jungkook throws his head back with a low groan as he holds your hips tightly, “Fuck keep going baby, almost there,” he whispers breathlessly, “you can do it.”

You let out a cry and slam yourself on his lap until you go still as your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. It’s mind blowing as your cunt tightens up and a wave of hot pleasure comes crashing down on you. You shake in his lap and whimper out a garbled version of his name.

Jungkook quietly moans as he holds you still and bucks his hips up a couple of times until he’s filling you with his cum. His cock twitches and pulses through his orgasm, dully reminding you that you’re on planet earth still and you need to come down from your high.

“My pussy hurts.” You softly whine while looking back at him.

“My pussy hurts,” he mocks softly, “but who just got the dicking of their life hm? You did.” He pokes your cheeks and brings you back so that you’re laying with him, “You okay?” He chuckles.

You hide your face in his neck and nod, “Nap now, food later?” You softly ask.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grins.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

[corinthianism]

SOMETHIN' STUPID || VIKTOR

pairing: viktor (arcane)/fem!reader additional tags: viktor's pov, viktor is a certified yearner, maybe ooc, unrequited love that's actually requited, no physical descriptions for reader other than having dainty fingers and being shorter than viktor, hopefully correct use of czech pet names, barely proofread synopsis: the ever-brilliant viktor finds himself drowning in feelings for his colleague, so what does he do? bury them, of course.... until he learns that love is not something you can just ignore.

author's note: hello everyone! it's been a long, long while since i've written anything so i thought i would try and see if the ol' writing machine (aka my brain) still works lol. this is more of a blurb than anything so please go easy on me. also trying out something new by writing in present tense (lmk if it flows well!) viktor might be a little ooc but i'm still trying to fully understand him. hopefully my characterization of him in future fics (if any) will be more faithful to the viktor you're all familiar with. anyways, enjoy 2k words of viktor yearning like CRAZY 🫶🏼

Viktor doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. How many more times would your eyes meet from across the room at one of those parties he never really wanted to attend in the first place? How many more times would your fingers brush in the early morning, when he accepts the steaming sweetmilk that you so kindly got for him? How many more times would your laughter intermingle softly late into the night, when exhaustion took over and your writing started to look more like chicken scratch rather than letters?

He might just go insane.

How was it possible to want someone this much? Maybe he’s experienced something like this before, in tiny amounts, for people he hasn’t thought about in years. Deep down, he knows that even if he added all of those fleeting romances together, it would still only be a fraction of what he feels now. For you.

He can’t pinpoint that exact moment in time when everything changed. There were definitely a few of those moments that stood out more than others, but none of those instances were the catalyst for whatever this is. But they certainly don’t help his case.

A few words of encouragement.

A book recommendation.

A smile— so soft, so intimate, he briefly allows himself to believe that it was meant just for him. Something precious for him to keep, to be his and his alone.

In the dim light of the lab, he finds you asleep on your desk. The humming glow of the hex crystals leaves you blanketed in a gentle blue. He’s heard tales of this before, from when he bothered to listen to such things. It would happen just like this, they said: his heart would beat so fast, it threatened to leave his chest entirely. His skin would burn with something unmistakable, a feeling that left one in a state of simultaneous confusion and clarity.

He feels it all now and he finds it polarizing. It’s too much and not enough. He chases and runs away from it at the same time. A part of him wants it to stop, to go away and leave him forever for the sake of ending this game he’s painfully losing… but a greater part of him hopes that it will grow and grow to the point where maybe you’ll notice and do something about it. His palms get a little sweaty just thinking about making the first move. Symptoms of a lovesick fool.

The soft sound of your breathing quiets the pounding of his heart, prevents the wretched feelings from overflowing and spilling everywhere. Even if it was just for tonight. Tonight, he keeps his lips sealed, fights to keep himself from reaching for you. It would be unbecoming of him.

His eyes land on you again, observing how your head rested on your arms. Understanding hits him then, why you’re so bothered by seeing him stay at the lab so late that he ends up falling asleep. That position couldn’t have been comfortable. Of course, he knew that from experience, but it’s your comfort he’s thinking about right now. He wonders if this is what you felt whenever you woke him up and implored him to go home.

Surely not.

No, he can’t wrap his head around you possibly viewing that act the same way he does. Not when he wants to bottle this moment, wants to capture the preciousness of seeing you like this. It just can’t be the same.

So can you really blame him if when he finally rests a hand on your shoulder to wake you gently, he lets it linger there for just a little longer? An infinitesimal piece of time that he claims for himself. He never thought himself to be the sentimental type, but he cherishes it all: he cherishes the way you blink slowly as you returned to the waking world, and your tired murmur of his name that makes his chest tighten.

It’s just a wisp of a moment, never really tangible enough for him to hold in his hands, but he cherishes it all the same. It’s burned in his memory, in his very being, the same way everything else about you is. Every piece of you that you so generously gifted him.

“You should go home, darling.”

The word slips past his lips before he could even think about it. But he allows himself this one indulgence. He can’t help it. He’s always been a bit greedy.

“What time is it?” you ask.

“Far too late for you to be here,” he answers.

You huff out a breath of a laugh, “That’s rich coming from you.”

He finds himself smiling. How does someone manage to be so endlessly endearing without even trying?

It takes an embarrassing amount of effort for him to pull back his hand from your shoulder. Had you been more awake and had the room been brighter, he might’ve schooled his expression into something more neutral. Something to hide the unbridled adoration in his eyes. He doesn’t do that now. With the shield of darkness to protect him, he lets the mask come off. He lets his affection for you wash over him in waves. It would’ve been liberating, if it wasn’t for the tiny detail that that affection was unrequited.

Still, he says your name with utmost care. “You must go home and rest.”

To his surprise, you listen. You mumble a tired "okay” and gather your belongings, slipping on your coat. “You should go home, too, Vik.”

“I will. Soon. I just need to finish a few things.”

Your face twists into a frown, “No, you’ll do that tomorrow.” Before he can interject, you speak up again, “Just… come with me? It’s late and I don’t want to walk home alone.”

His brain refuses to reconcile with what his eyes see: the trepidation written all over your features, the way you clutch the lapel of your coat just a little tighter. He knows it’s a trap, you just want to get him out of the lab but how could he possibly reject the promise of a few more minutes with you? The chance to pretend, even if it’s just for those precious few minutes, that he was taking you home as someone more than a colleague? More than a friend? Only a fool would say no to you. Or perhaps he was a fool either way. He really must be going insane.

He says yes almost instantly.

It’s cold in Piltover tonight. It makes his bad leg ache more than it already does, and so his strides are a bit more careful. He doesn’t say anything about how you also slow down to match his pace but he appreciates your considerate gesture nonetheless.

The moon hangs in the sky big and bright, making everything around you seem softer. It’s picturesque. Almost romantic. He tries his best not to entertain that thought for much longer. Instead, he focuses on what you say to him so he could ignore the traitorous thoughts his mind conjures up and the way his knees were protesting because of the cold.

Conversation with you is easy— terrifyingly so. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when you first met.

Early on in the process of finding sponsors and securing funding, him and Jayce quickly realized that they needed help. Yes, Jayce is a friend of the Kiramman family. Yes, Viktor is Heimerdinger’s protégé, but they’re academics. At the end of the day, Jayce’s warm personality could only do so much when he was still greatly inexperienced with navigating these more political spaces and for all of his experience and perceptiveness, Viktor knows he’s no good at sweet-talking sponsors, either.

Enter, you.

Caitlyn Kiramman was the one to recommend you, her former tutor. Jayce was quick to back her up, remembering that you were also Academy alumni; a particularly strategic businesswoman. Viktor was hesitant at first, knowing that a third party could complicate things. Hextech was born out of the dream to help people. He worried that bringing business and politics (even though he knew it was necessary) into the mix would warp Hextech into something it wasn’t. Jayce convinced him to take a gamble, and it seemed that the potential of Hextech was enough to bring you back to Piltover from your travels across Runeterra.

It took him a while to warm up to you. You weren’t nobility, but most definitely well-off. Even more so after your years as a business consultant to organizations all over the continent. He respected you, sure, but Viktor had a hard time trusting someone who was so… privileged. How could you possibly understand how important it was that Hextech remained a beacon of hope for the less fortunate? Perhaps it was naive of him to think that way, as much as he hated to admit it.

But true to your reputation, you delivered exactly what they needed. You bridged the gap between Viktor and Jayce’s hopes for Hextech and the support they needed from sponsors, protecting them and their inventions from being taken advantage of.

Suffice to say, you earned his admiration.

Never in a million years would Viktor imagine that you would captivate his entire being, too.

It was daunting. Scary, really. Especially now that he’s beginning to understand the full extent of his affections. Years and years of burying that softness from his youth deep beneath the armor of his intellect— all that hard work diminished by a pretty girl. Gods, he really is just a man. Not even that. With you, he feels like a highschooler with a crush. It’s painful. Downright humiliating. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not when you link your arm around his, laughing at something he said. Was he really that funny? Probably not. He’s just happy to make you laugh.

“You don’t have to be nice about it. Salo is a grade-A asshole,” you grinned. “We both know it. If I have to spend another dinner with him present I might actually stab a fork in my eyes.”

He smiles, “Ah, but that wouldn’t save you from his incessant chatter.”

“I’ll stab the fork into my ears too."

“I might just follow after you,” he hums, “you’ll have to check if it works first, though.”

Your friendship blossomed when your visits to the lab became less for work and more for leisure. You wanted to visit, wanted to learn more about what he and Jayce were working on and why. Everything after that was just dominoes. You, with all your fiery passion and sharp wit, have become a permanent fixture in his life and now? He could hardly imagine life without you in it. You're one of his dearest friends and, much to his dismay, that makes his current predicament even more challenging than it already is.

Before he knew it, the two of you were standing in front of your apartment building— one of the most luxurious in Piltover. He could only imagine how much it cost, though he knew for certain that your penthouse probably barely made a dent in your wealth. He’s gotten somewhat used to your differing lifestyles, but he’s never completely able to not marvel at it. A gust of wind kissed his skin once more as he turned to look at you.

“This is me,” you say, gloved hands in your pocket and your lovely, lovely face framed by your hair and ruby red scarf. He recognizes it as the gift he gave you a year ago now. A spur-of-the-moment purchase on one of the rare occasions he was actually outside Academy grounds. He remembers thinking that the color would look nice on you. He was right. He finds himself holding onto the seconds before he has to go. “Thank you for walking me home, Viktor.”

“Of course,” he nods but the calmness of his voice don’t match the way his eyes bore into yours. “It’s only proper.”

“Proper?”

“Yes. Proper. I am a gentleman, after all.”

His accent comes out thicker, emphasizing the words more than he means to.

“I didn’t take you for someone who cared much about propriety,” you tease.

“Is it because I’m from the undercity?” he deadpans and he relishes in the look of horror on your face that replaces your grin.

“What? No!” you exclaim, smacking his arm when you realize he’s just joking. “You. Are. Impossible.”

A laugh bubbles out of his chest, “Oh, that’s cruel. You would hit a defenseless man? How heartless.”

“Shut up. That cane of yours is a weapon of war. Don’t think I haven’t seen you smack Jayce with it.”

“If I hit him with it, he probably deserved it.”

“Poor Jayce,” you laugh as well. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Viktor smiles.

“I do not think you could even if you tried, lásko."

He freezes and so do you. The laughter—the music—that you shared for the briefest of moments was thoroughly snuffed out, leaving you both in a silence that threatens to swallow him whole. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to speak so gently, but there is not a part of Viktor that could withhold this sincerity from you. Specks of the truth, of the confession he’s barely managed to wrangle into submission and lock away somewhere dark and unreachable.

He pulls back on instinct. He’s shown too much, said too much. You don’t move. He is petrified.

Your eyes widen and he sees his reflection in them, staring back at him. This is it, he thinks. He’s crossed the line and he’ll have to deal with the crushing blow of your rejection.

You manage to compose yourself and what you say next is… well, unexpected. Your tone is light, clearing the air and allowing him to breathe again.

“Do you say that to every woman or am I a special case? I’d hate to be part of a roster.”

He’s taken aback, but he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. You are a miracle in his eyes. Washing away his worries with a kind smile and a few choice words. He laughs again and this time, he doesn’t stop himself from speaking the truth. It’s now or never.

“Surely you know by now that you are singular,” he whispers, his accent a pleasant drawl in your ears. He takes a step forward. It is gravity that pulls him in, not the Earth’s, but yours. A force that he can’t help but be drawn to. Not that he would ever dare to resist it now that his fear has shrunk down to something a little less debilitating.

His face is inches from yours. You don’t move. He gets a little braver.

“I do not appreciate your implication that I would pay attention to anyone else,” his voice is low, honest. “As if anyone could compare to you. As if you don’t hold my very being in the palm of your hand. Miláčku, I adore you. Don’t you know that?”

There is a hint of pleading in his tone, begging you to understand the full scope of his feelings from those few words so that he wouldn’t unravel before you, a bundle of nerves and petals the same shade as your scarf.

“Say something. Please,” his fear rears its ugly head once more. “Say the word and we’ll pretend this never happened. I will remain your colleague and nothing more. A friend, if you would allow it.”

“What if I don’t want that?” you ask, your own voice a little shaky with uncertainty. Maybe it was also fear. That, he’s not quite sure.

Viktor doesn’t fully trust what he’s hearing, thinks it to be a figment of his deluded imagination, but his heart is screaming at him now to push forward.

“What is it you want, lásko? Tell me and it shall be yours.”

You're almost breathless when you finally respond, “You. I want you."

The world stills. Time itself screeches to a halt. There is only you and him, together in this moment that he knows will be woven into the threads of his soul. He has never known euphoria quite like this. He can’t name it yet, doesn’t know if this is love. He can only hope that it will be.

When he looks into your eyes again, he does not see his own terrified reflection. He just sees you. And the sheer intensity of your gaze that rivals his own. Have you always looked at him that way? Was he just too blind to see it?

“Do you mean that?” he finds himself asking. He has to— has to make sure that this is real.

You smile again, dainty fingers intertwining with his. It is a gentle smile, a hopeful smile that answers his question before you even open your mouth.

“I do,” your voice is so gentle and yet it squeezes his heart. “I’m yours, Viktor, if you’ll have me.”

He brings your knuckles to his lips, places a reverent kiss on them like you’ve given him the world. In a way, that’s exactly what you did. Maybe his lips were always meant to be on your skin, worshipping you like the goddess you are. It feels too natural for it to mean anything else.

And for the first time in a long time, he allows himself to hope.

“I would love nothing more.”

[tojirights]

I absolutely love your Alastor smut! Is there anyway you can make one where your Vox’s ex and Alastor decided to somehow show off to Vox how much reader loves his c*ck more?? A special broadcast maybe?? Please keep up the great work!

a/n: i love vox but if there's one thing i love more, its making him feel inferior to alastor 😍 this is soo good. REQUESTS OPEN! 🩷

tags: 18+ smut nsfw!

vox thought alastor couldn't get any worse, there was nothing that shit-for-brains demon could do to enrage him more. that was until valentino told him that alastor had a new pretty little thing hanging on his arm. "he WHAT?!" vox's voice cracks from the sheer force he puts behind those words. valentino snickers, watching vox run to his security room.

and there you were, locked arms with that fucking deer demon, walking down the street. you looked absolutely enthralled with that fucker! "you've gotta be fucking kidding me..." he growls, static filling his vision. as if alastor can sense that they're being watched, he winks at the camera and pulls you down a more secluded path. vox puts his fist straight through the screen before pacing around the room. it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before his ears pick up that voice, that shitty radio voice.

"good evening viewers!" alastor begins, making vox's head spin around. the tvs were blank, just audio playing through them. he's about to smash the rest of them when something catches his attention. he swears he hears a familiar noise, your noises specifically. then he hears you panting, and blood rushes to his groin first and then his face. "thank you for tuning into a very special late night broadcast." alastor's voice sounds... breathier.

"what the fuck is-" vox mutters to himself before his eyes go wide. "o-oh god." you moan, sounding far too sexy. and enjoying yourself far too much. "yes alastor, fuck. that's so good." your whines play out, filling the room and vox is just about to lose it. "is alastor fucking your ex?" valentino leans against the doorframe, a smug look on his face. "you’re so tight, my dear. your cunt was made for my cock just as i was made for radio." he laughs to himself, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you over his desk.

this little plan of his was working just as intended. he asked, of course, if you'd be interested in ruffling your exes feathers a little bit and you agreed. this special broadcast was only being shown directly to vox through his security. not a single other soul would be able to hear you but vox. it sent a certain chill up your spine, knowing that he was definitely listening. every thrust of alastor's cock presses you harder into the desk, bruises sure to form later in the evening.

"that's kinda hot, yknow-" "SHUT UP VAL." vox feels as though he's about to implode, anger coursing through him in a way he's sure he's never felt. "i am going to finish him. both of them. they won't live this down."

valentino covers his mouth to stop from laughing. "it sounds like they're about to finish each other." and he was right. your breathy little moans are a dead giveaway. "please, please your cock feels so good. g-gonna cum." vox paces the room, plotting your downfall but his cock is hard as a fucking rock in his pants.

"such a good girl, you are. you sing so pretty my dear." alastor grunts, pressing the head of his cock up against your cervix before he feels you clamp down around him. with every pulse of youe orgasm, alastor follows. "cum alastor, p-please fill my pussy." you gasp, riding out wave after wave of deep pleasure. vox should turn this off, he should walk away but he can't make his feet move.

and after alastor finishes deep inside of you, filling you to the point of it leaking down his cock, he lets out an almost sinister chuckle. "thank you my loyal viewers for tuning in for this one of a kind show! we hope you thoroughly enjoyed."

the room is silent after the broadcast ends. that is, until velvette clears her throat. "was that alastor fucking your bitch?" she raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading over her lips when she sees vox's face.

"no one talk to me. i have business to attend to." and with that, vox disappears, leaving valentino and velvette to themselves.

"bold move, i gotta hand it to him."

[thinkinonsense]

I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ

dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader

cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.

wc: 800+

a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.

Your Logan.

"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.

Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.

Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?

Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.

"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."

"I know."

Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.

"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.

"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."

Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.

"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."

"You don't have to be."

ᰔ

It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.

All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.

"What are you doin' awake?"

The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.

"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.

"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.

"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.

"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.

"Were we really married?"

You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.

"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.

"Five."

"What was our life like?"

"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."

"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.

"You would have to."

He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.

"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.

Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.

"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"

"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."

You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.

For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.

[angelltheninth]

Hi just wanted to say that I love reading your invincible fics !! If your still accepting requests; would it be ok if I request dating hcs on Mark , Eve and Rex please 🙏 (separate if possible) love them so much (reader I’m fine with female or gn ^^)

I love those three too! I will gladly accept your request.

Pairing: Mark Grayson, Eve Wilkins, Rex Sloan x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, dating, kissing, flying, power use, flirting, banter, established relationship, superheroes

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Dating one of them would be great, but imagine dating all three?!

The best boyfriend you could ask for, will take care of you no matter what you need

More on the shy side when you first begin your relationship and easily flustered

You have to be the one to kiss him first, he doesn't exactly have a lot experience with dating

Always got tongue tied around pretty women and you are no exception even after you begin dating

Uses his powers to impress you, or tries to impress you, but he almost crashes into a building because he was too busy flirting with you to notice it

Happy to be affectionate in public, always holds your hand while you walk together

Stays up late to talk to you, Mark is pretty stubborn when it comes to ending the call first

Listens to your heartbeat from far away because it helps him relax and puts him to sleep easier

His phone is filled with pictures of you in various outfits, some of which you bought on your dates, others that you had in your closet and sent pictures to him

The best kinds of dates are the nightly flights he takes you on, high above the city, somewhere private, there are so many romantic spots to explore around the world

Eve compliments you a lot before and after you begin dating, that and affectionate touching are how she expresses her love the most

When she wants to kiss you and you're on the other side of the room she floats right next to you and plants a quick kiss on your cheek right before moving away

If you want to kiss her back you're gonna have to catch her first, which might prove a bit of challenge but the reward will be worth it

Kisses your hand a lot and enjoys the way it makes you blush, you're like a pretty princess

Doesn't let anything interrupt your cuddling sessions and if there's anything either of you need to grab she will levitate it within arms reach

Loves helping you with your makeup and buying you makeup and various accessories, most of them matching

Not shy about taking showers together when either of you spends the night at the others place

Absolutely melts on the inside when she wakes up and sees that you cooked her favorite food to make her feel better when she had a bad night or a bad mission

Hugs you tight when you sleep next to each other, kissing your forehead before she fully falls asleep

On your anniversaries she always tries to come up with something new and fun for the two of you to do together

Big flirt compared to your previous boyfriends and will use any chance to make you blush

Can be the big spoon or the little spoon, it doesn't make much difference to Rex as long as he gets to hold you in his arms all night long

Enjoys leaving kiss marks and bite marks on you, grinning like a lovesick fool when he sees them on you while you're getting dressed

Kisses you in front of his friends and teammates when ever he gets the chance

When it's your anniversary he makes his own fireworks, maybe slightly less flashy but he wants you to see the effort he put in

Gets slightly jealous when he sees other heroes trying to flirt with you

Often works out in front of you since he knows you enjoy seeing his muscles, and the occasional invitation to get into the shower with him after he's done

Huge fan of sleeping over at your place and leaving his clothes there, but he pretends he does it on accident

Actually he does that specifically to see how you're wearing his clothes more and more, during the day and when you're going to sleep, wearing one of his shirts

Instead of just kissing you he will often instigate a long make out session, he can't keep his hands off a pretty girl like you

[loganficsonly]

the cure

worst!logan x f!reader, 1.3k SUMMARY: logan thinks about his relationship with you, and with a past like his, he doesn't take things for granted. WARNINGS/TAGS: SMUT—minors do not interact!!!, pre-established relationship and consent, reader is younger (maybe mid-late 20s) but who isn't younger than logan?, somnophilia, slight angst, dirty talk, body worship?, emotions, mainly written in logan's pov AUTHOR'S NOTE: i appreciate every reblog, follow, reply, what have you—thank you so much for letting me know you enjoyed my fic! <3

The dull noise of construction wakes him up in the morning. That’s New York City for you.

At first he thinks that he’s late for work. The sounds of a pile driver hammering into the ground, the to-and-fro of cranes and thuds of materials remind him of the place he’s supposed to go to for money—because of course it doesn’t matter that you’re torn and spat out into this universe from another and saved the timeline from the threat of non-existence.

You still gotta pay rent.

But the warmth next to him makes him remember. His eyes, opened with alertness, soften at the sight of you. Under the sheets, asleep, though you’ve moved slightly to get closer to him. As if he were some kind of magnetic rock and you’re the one with a metal skeleton. 

That’s right, he’s taken the day off today. And so did you. A small lift in his lips at the memory of how you excitedly told him you got a day off to match his. 

“Can we spend it together?” you asked gingerly, as if you needed to.

As if you hadn’t shared his bed in the last six months.

His lashes flutter as he blinks, drinking in the sight of you lying next to him. The blanket rustles as he moves to his side, an arm moving over you, fingers gently brushing hair out of your face.

When Wade introduced you to him not long into his life on a new Earth, he could feel the old grinding of gears kicking into motion. Endlessly slow and grating after being on a standstill for god knows how long, but he felt it nonetheless. You spurred a dangerous something in him that sat motionless in the bottom of his blackened heart. 

You became an object of held-back affection.

It remained that way for a long time: pining, yearning, longing from afar. He was a wounded animal nursing old scars—you would always approach with caution, and he would mostly allow you, but never too close. The relationship felt like a dance. A little shy, careful not to push too far. You on your tip-toes, him with tense hands.

Somewhere along the way, neither of you could take that anymore. 

A cord snaps, and when he finally let you in, it was with the intensity of the sun. You surrendered willingly, welcoming the way he traps you—his hands down the curve of your spine and bottom, words whispered into your ear (“This is what you do to me, darling”), the marks he leaves all over your skin. 

He made you his in one night. Hasn’t stopped doing so, and it’s been six months. 

Where he first claimed you with passion and pleasure, you claim him with a rising tide. Yes, he knows he's been ensnared since day one, but your presence floods him little by little. The meals you cook for him every now and then. The smell of your favorite detergent. How he’d catch you humming absentmindedly in the shower.

He’s drowning in you and he still wants more.

And he hasn’t always freely admitted it. His past wouldn’t let him, clinging onto his limbs like chains of heated tar. A slave to shame.

He isn’t supposed to be here. How could someone like him be allowed this? Be given a pretty young thing to share his bed with, who coos comforting words and runs her fingers through his hair when he wakes from a bad dream, who is kind and patient, who’s seen the shattered pieces and still wants to be with him?

Voices in his head derided: animal, coward, murderer. You don’t deserve her—

You are always the one who chases those thoughts away. Even these days, when they resurface in smaller, less harmful ways, you dutifully stamp each little doubt dead.

The hand drifts to your cheek, thumb slowly stroking your skin, careful to not wake you up as hazel eyes continue to watch you. Your breathing is slow and even, fast asleep.

How did he get so fucking lucky? An angel in his bed, wearing his old T-shirt.

A familiar need rises in him at the sight of your slightly parted lips. His thumb moves to brush against the plush of it, admiring them, the touch warming the blood in his veins.

You were so good for him last night.

Hot memories flash in his mind’s eye, the replayed scenes making his body react. How you moaned against his shoulder as he was on top of you, wanting and failing to keep quiet. How he made you forget about keeping quiet. The slight shade of pink your ass took after a spanking while he took you from behind. God, that view of your naked back, an empty canvas for his mouth to paint with dark marks.

And then there was the thing you said right before you fell asleep—the agreement you had with him, the words that gave him permission to take you again come morning, whether you’re awake or otherwise.

He huffs, feeling the discomfort of his own arousal.

You murmur, perhaps from the slight jostle of the bed as he shifts to tower atop you. Maybe it’s the morning, the warmth of sleep still enveloping your bodies, the fact that you let him do this that loosens his lips as they kiss your jaw, then neck, then collarbone. 

“What’d I do to deserve you, sweetheart?” 

His voice low as hands snake up your shirt, exposing your stomach, then your breasts. He swallows at the sight of the hickeys littering your chest and ribs—he enjoyed leaving them, but seeing them the next day is something else.

Delight as he smells arousal pooling between your legs, finger teasing your naked core—smart girl, letting him take what he needs easily. His hot mouth is on a hardened nipple, sucking needily, on his elbow holding him up, his other hand busying itself between your legs. A small noise escapes you that makes him shiver.

“Sweet thing,” he rasps, “let me take care of you.”

And he does. 

Slipping out of slumber, you find yourself moaning, voice husky from sleep, eyelids fluttering to find him between your legs as he busies himself in worship. Your chest heaves, breath getting heavier as dream and reality begins to merge. Your hand moves to his hair and he groans—not realizing he’s been craving for you to touch him.

“Logan…”

There it is, the sound of his salvation. His name is a plea on your lips, mounting higher and turning into a drawn out whine when he makes you come on his tongue, thighs tensing at the sides of his head. He doesn’t stop, lapping at you, large calloused hands caressing shaky legs and the fat of your hips. 

“Taste so good f’me, honey,” he growls, mouth still affixed to your core. “Gonna make you feel so good, ‘kay?”

You come a second time with a high-pitched mewl not too long after, this time with two fingers curled inside you. 

When he finally sinks his inches in, cock stretching your walls, he watches your face. He always does. This time, your eyes meet his, slightly groggy, but pupils dilated—an unmistakable desire for him. One that he mirrors in hazel eyes gone dark.

Bottoming out in you, he groans, hand gripping your hip. 

“So fucking tight. Made for me, huh?”

You pant, clenching around him at the sound of his voice.

This. This is what heals his hurt.

Each drag and slam of his length inside you, a balm to the scars. 

“Ngh—ah—”

Your sweet sounds of pleasure chases the voices in his head away, as if they never existed in the first place, as if there was ever only you.

“You have any idea how goddamn beautiful you are like this?” Lips against your ear, body crowding yours, feeling his breath as he pounds into you harder. 

“Ah, Logan, please…”

Your voice calling his name in a breathless exhale is a drug that makes him feel alive again. Makes him want to live again.

Truth be told, you never needed to beg. He’d give you anything you ask for. 

divider by cafekitsune. thank you!

[bellaxgiornata]

Nothing Remains the Same

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.1k [Matt Murdock Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; DDBA SPOILERS, angst (not a happy ending), emotional hurt, pining, mentions of sexual content

Summary: In an attempt to bridge the distance between Karen and you, Matt invites you both to his apartment for dinner while the pair of you are visiting New York for work. But after that night at Josie's over a year ago and your almost-relationship with Matt had long since ended, clearly nothing is the same anymore–especially Matt.

a/n: I've had this idea stuck in my head for over a week now because I've been craving angst so...here you go. This contains DDBA spoilers and has no happy ending (unless I make a second part at some point). Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

tag list: @captainorbust-blog @hollandorks @lights-on-the-ridge @spider-jedi17 @raindropsandteaandtears @thekidsare-kinda-alright

Leaning against the counter beside Karen, a glass of wine in your hands, you watched Matt and Heather as they continued talking on the other side of the island in Matt’s kitchen. Karen stood beside you with her arms crossed over her chest, absently swirling the red wine in her glass. The smile on her face was polite but strained as she listened to the story the couple was currently regaling you both with–how Matt had asked Heather to move in. But even you could see that Karen was thinking the exact same thing you’d been from the moment you both stepped into this apartment.

Nothing felt right here. 

Your eyes lingered on the way Matt stirred the sauce in the pan on the island stovetop, his red glasses perched on his nose and still obscuring his full expression from view. You hadn’t seen his eyes even once since Karen and you had arrived almost an hour ago, which only made the distance between you three feel like a gaping hole only growing more impossible to cross. Jaw twitching as you tapped a finger against the glass in your hands, you barely registered the conversation occurring around you. 

You were not remotely interested in hearing about Matt and the girlfriend he’d surprised you and Karen with the moment you’d stepped through the threshold into his apartment for dinner tonight–not when you had once been the woman in his life telling stories like this. It used to be you and Matt telling Karen and Foggy about the date you'd gone on, or how Matt had slipped through your window late as Daredevil and crashed at your place as you both explained why you had showed up late to the office together that morning. And then Foggy would always tease you both about your flirting in the workplace and–

No. Now wasn't the time for that.

But it was impossible to focus on what Heather was saying as your own memories kept flashing through your mind. Memories of drunkenly making your way into Matt’s previous apartment, clutching a bag of Thai food in your hand from the restaurant around the corner you both loved. Or the nights he'd asked you to stay over because he liked having you in his apartment when he made his way through the roof access door, exhausted and maybe a little banged up in his suit. All those times you’d both been over-eager on his couch, too in the moment to make it to his bedroom before undressing each other. Those times when you’d both been washed in the deep hues of different colors from the billboard across the street, bathing your bodies in various shades as you made love on his couch.

Glancing through the kitchen towards his living room on the left, you noticed his couch was different. Not the same one you remembered. It wasn't the leather couch you both had cuddled on countless nights before, or the one you'd cleaned his blood from off the cushions on multiple different occasions. Your hand tightened around the wine glass as you stared past Karen into his living room, blankly taking in his new apartment.

It felt cold here. Fake. Like a prop and not some place where Matt actually lived–where he came home after a day of work to unwind and where he laid down to sleep at night. This wasn’t Hell’s Kitchen. His fridge was fully stocked with food instead of just beer, half a bottle of orange juice, and the rare carton of eggs. There was no obscene billboard across the street, and those stairs leading from the roof that you’d seen him stumble down too many times to count in his red suit were missing. The furniture here was different–nicer. Everything from his kitchenware to the sweater he had on looked expensive. And where had that red plaid blanket gone that you’d both wrapped yourselves in all those times you’d drank cheap beer on his roof?

But as your eyes returned to Matt, Heather now having switched topics to some upcoming book about vigilantes that she was working on–which made it apparent that she had no clue she was living with one–you noticed the worst part about all of this. Matt felt different. That smile on his face seemed strained, and you had a feeling if he removed those glasses, you'd easily see it didn't quite reach his eyes. His laugh sounded off whenever Heather told a joke. The way he moved around the kitchen cooking dinner with that slightly diluted charming smile on his lips just felt wrong. 

This didn’t feel like Matt. You didn’t know who the hell was standing on the opposite side of the island counter from you with some other woman’s hand lingering on his shoulder, but he wasn’t your Matthew. It felt like you were somehow standing in the middle of a nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. Because this couldn’t possibly be where things had gone now between all of you.

As your pulse quickened, that heartache you thought you’d buried for the past year–the one you thought you’d come to terms with while you’d been gone from New York–suddenly felt as if it had torn your chest wide open again. Almost instantaneously, Matt’s head shifted towards you from across the island counter. Raising the red wine towards your mouth, you swallowed the bitter alcohol down as his covered gaze landed on you. 

You knew he’d caught that. 

Pressing your lips together and forcing a smile onto your face, you turned your attention away from Matt and back to Heather. She smiled at you as she came to a natural break in her explanation of what she was working on and you nodded your head, trying to take an interest in what she was discussing. You knew you’d been far too quiet since having arrived here and it was probably bordering on rude, but your mouth felt so damn dry.

“That–that sounds like an interesting premise,” you forced out. 

Heather smiled before she draped herself around Matt as he continued cooking, your stomach twisting at the sight. How had Matt thought that this would be a good idea? A good way to catch up and try to mend things between Karen and you? How had he not realized how much this would hurt you? Even if you hadn’t gotten Matt to the point of officially labeling you as his girlfriend back then, that’s what you’d been. And now you were watching him live that out with someone else right in front of you. It made you want to be sick.

“I told Matt here that he should get me an interview with one of his vigilante acquaintances,” Heather continued, affectionately patting his shoulder as she looked up at him. “Frank Castle or Daredevil. Maybe both.”

Beside you, Karen nearly choked on the wine she’d been drinking. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you refrained from blurting any of the comments that were sitting on the tip of your tongue as Matt chuckled good-naturedly. That feeling of everything being off only intensified.

“Yeah, I’m sure he could absolutely manage that,” Karen said, her blue eyes piercing into Matt while she spoke. “I could only imagine those two sitting down with a therapist. Bet that’d be interesting, wouldn’t it, Matt?”

Matt glanced up from his cooking, a tight smile on his face. “Yeah, I’m sure it would be.” A muscle jumped in his cheek before he focused on Heather beside him, that slightly off smile on his face again. “But I already told you that I’m not so sure if that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

The moment the simple term of endearment was out of his mouth, you froze in place as if the air had just been sucked straight from your lungs. Sweetheart. He was calling her sweetheart. After all of those times he’d called you that–over the phone when he was making plans with you, in his deep sultry tone when he’d flirt with you in the office, panted into your ear when he was buried inside of you–now he was calling someone else that?

You felt lightheaded, your heart beating unsteadily in your chest. Reaching a hand out behind yourself, your fingers gripped onto the cold stone of Matt’s kitchen counter behind you as your knees felt like they were beginning to buckle. Beside you, Karen turned her head at the movement, catching the look on your face. Her blonde brows drew together in worry, a silent question forming on her features clearly asking if you were alright. But it was one that you weren’t sure how to answer. Because no, you weren’t alright. Nothing felt right anymore.

Across the kitchen, you heard Heather call out your name as you set your wine glass down on the counter beside you. One hand reaching up, you grabbed the collar of your blouse, trying to pull it away from your neck. It felt stifling in here all of the sudden.

“Are you alright?” Heather asked, her eyes scanning you closely. 

“Is something wrong?” Matt asked. 

He stopped stirring the sauce in the pan in front of him as he’d spoken with genuine concern in his tone. His attention fixed on you instead of the dinner he’d been preparing, no doubt reading your body closely and listening to all of the things even you couldn’t catch. You wondered what it told him. Wondered if he knew how much he was tormenting you right now or if he even cared because he just wanted you and Karen back in his life, as if things could somehow snap back to how they were between the three of you while one part of the group was glaringly and permanently missing. 

“I uh,” you began, trying to find the words as all three sets of eyes landed on you. “I just–just need some air. The uh–” you broke off, feeling your body growing hotter as Karen gave you a knowing look. “I just think that flight in from California took it out of me.”

A nervous laugh slipped out of you, the urge to bolt from this apartment–from this whole damn city–slamming right into you. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stand here and smile and pretend like you were fine with everything. Because you weren’t. And you weren’t even sure if Heather knew that you were basically Matt’s ex and not just one of his ex-associates from Nelson, Murdock, and Page. 

“I’m just going to step out,” you said, pushing off of the kitchen counter.

Not even caring about how rude you might’ve appeared, you slipped past Karen and the knowing look on her face before making your way through the kitchen and towards Matt’s front door. Without a backwards glance or another word, you pulled the door to his apartment open and darted outside of it, hurrying straight for the elevator at the end of the hallway. 

As you jammed your finger into the elevator call button, waiting for the doors to open, you hated knowing that he was aware of your entire exit from his place. You couldn’t just cry in peace in the elevator as you made your escape, because if Matt was still Matt, you knew his senses were focused on you as you stepped into the elevator. Knew that he could hear you trying to fight back the quiet sobs threatening to overtake you and the erratic beating of your heart in your chest.

But none of that stopped you from letting the tears spill down your face the second the elevator doors shut in front of you. Slumping against the wall of the elevator as it began to descend towards the lobby, you wiped away the tears with the back of your hand as they began to fall. It had been a horrible idea to accept Matt’s offer for dinner at his place tonight with Karen while the pair of you were briefly back in New York. You had hoped that this weird, painful divide between the three of you could gradually be mended after the loss of Foggy, but now you weren’t sure how possible that could ever be. 

You couldn’t see him with another woman. It didn’t matter how smart, successful, beautiful, and kind she seemed. It didn’t feel right seeing her wrapping her arms around his waist or rubbing his shoulder affectionately. Kissing his cheek and sharing little jokes. Hearing him call her sweetheart. Knowing they were living together.

That was supposed to have been you. It had been you.

Until that night at Josie’s a little over a year ago now. The night that had changed everything. The night where your’s, and Matt’s, and Karen’s worlds had fallen completely apart. The night you three lost Foggy. When he’d taken that last gasping breath in front of you and Karen right outside of the bar the four of you had frequented almost weekly. That night when a part of Matt had died with him. But while you and Karen had tried struggling together to move on and deal with your grief over the tragic loss of one of your best friends, Matt had only shut you and her out completely.

But you were still in love with Matt. That much was painfully obvious after tonight. He might have walked away and moved on from you, even if it all seemed so damn fake and forced, but you’d apparently been holding onto something that wasn’t ever going to happen again and you were just now realizing it.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, the noise cutting through your thoughts. Sniffling softly, you pushed yourself off of the wall and stepped out of it, heading into the well lit and extravagantly decorated lobby which was a vast difference from Matt’s previous apartment building. Thankfully, it wasn’t too crowded with people coming and going, meaning no one really spared you a passing glance as you wiped at your tear-stained cheeks. 

You had no intention of going back up to Matt’s apartment. You would just come up with some lie for Karen to tell them about you not feeling well and instead spend the rest of your evening crying alone in your hotel room until Karen came back. But just as you’d felt for your phone in your pocket so you could send her a text, you heard your name being called across the lobby. Brows furrowing together in confusion, you paused and turned your head towards where the voice had come from.

Matt was making his way out of the stairwell, his cane sweeping across the floor as he hurried towards you. You were vaguely aware of how little he was hiding the fact that he knew exactly where you were standing despite that he was in public, his feet leading him straight towards you. His dark brows were pinched together, furrowing deeply beneath his glasses as he approached.

“Matt, you don’t–”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stopping just in front of you. “Why’re you leaving? You’ve only been here for an hour. And don’t tell me you just needed air or that you’re not feeling well because we both know that’s not true.”

Unable to stop the humorless laugh that bubbled up out of you, a look of disbelief crossed your face at the question. Even with the glasses covering his eyes, his face noticeably twisted up as if the sound had somehow physically hurt him. 

“Why didn’t you tell us your girlfriend would be joining us for dinner when you invited us?” you questioned back. “That she was living with you? Or that you even had a girlfriend, for that matter.”

“I–I wasn’t…” he trailed off, at least having the sense to sound guilty. He paused, gripping his cane tight between his hands as he pursed his lips in frustration. “Look, I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the opportunity to try to fix things with Karen and you, so when I found out you both were coming out here for work, I took my chance to invite you both for dinner. I didn’t think it would be a problem that I was seeing someone, but initially Heather had an appointment scheduled for the evening which had been canceled last minute.”

Pulling a face, you shook your head back at Matt. “So you were going to what? Pretend there was no live-in girlfriend when we came over?” 

“No,” he answered firmly. “No, I wouldn’t have kept her a secret. That’s not what I meant, I just meant that I had been intending for tonight to just be the three of us, alright? Sweetheart, I didn’t–”

“Don’t.”

The word came out both sharp and pained as it passed your lips. You could feel something squeezing your heart in your chest as you remembered how he’d just called someone else that right in front of you without a second thought. The tears were burning in your eyes again as you held the gaze of those red lenses which he still hadn’t removed. His lips twitched at the corners in something like a wince at the sound of your voice, his throat visibly bobbing above the neckline of his sweater as he swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Eyes snapping shut, you couldn’t even look at him. A few more tears slipped out, sliding their way gently down your cheeks as you stood there. What the hell were you supposed to say to that? It’s not like it changed anything.

“You left,” he continued quietly. “You left New York.”

Eyes slowly opening, you looked back at Matt through the tears blurring your vision. “You left first,” you breathed out. “That night. After that night. You shut me out, you shut Karen out. You locked yourself away in your apartment. Didn’t answer our calls or our texts. Never opened your door to us. You came to work at the office barely there after you told us you wanted to close the firm.”

Pausing to try to swallow down the lump forming in the back of your throat, one of your hands reached up and wiped at the tears still steadily falling. Matt stood there in front of you with trembling lips, making you wonder if he was tearing up behind those red lenses himself.

“You left first, Matt,” you repeated. “I tried to get through to you for months, but you wouldn’t let me in. And then the firm closed and Karen was leaving to California. I needed a job and I needed the only friend I felt I had left, so I followed her.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. Just–just stay for dinner. Please.”

“Matt, you know I can’t do that,” you told him, voice pained. “I can’t go back up there and watch you two together. It hurts. Not just to see you with someone else, but seeing you acting like someone else.”

Matt went tense at the accusation, shaking his head once more at you as his jaw clenched tight. You knew he was in denial about what he was doing, how he was handling Foggy’s passing. You knew him far too well to let him lie to you.

“I’m not acting like someone else,” he disagreed. “I’m trying to live my life as Matt Murdock.”

Gesturing a hand sharply at Matt in front of you, you couldn’t fight back the truth as it fell past your lips. “This isn’t you, Matthew. This is you hiding away from your grief instead of facing it. You're burying it deep down and pretending it's not there but it is.”

A bitter scoff left Matt as he readjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose, those red lenses of his flashing beneath the lights of the lobby. You could see his tongue running over his teeth in frustration behind his closed lips before he continued.

“I’ve been dealing with it,” he countered. “Every damn day.”

“You left Hell’s Kitchen, Matt,” you pointed out. “You’re partnered at some fancy law firm that doesn’t feel like you. Living in a fancy apartment that doesn’t feel like you with a girlfriend who clearly doesn’t really know you. And–” you continued, the words just spilling out of you like the tears still running down your cheeks, “–I’m guessing you still haven’t put the suit back on since that night.”

“You know I can't.”

His words came out dark and quiet, his lips thinning into a straight line. You could see the muscle working in his cheek as he stood there, clearly trying to fight down his own emotions like he'd been doing for more than a year. Part of you felt bad for pushing the subject, but you knew what was going to happen if Matt kept lying to himself. 

“You didn't kill either of them,” you whispered, lowering your voice so your conversation couldn't be overheard. “I know you don't believe me, but you didn't, Matt. What happened that night–”

“Can't happen again,” he stated firmly. 

Biting your lip, your hands curled into fists at your sides. It was almost impossible to get through to Matt when he'd made up his mind. But you'd seen the news reports since you'd been back in the city. You'd heard about the uptick in crime. About Fisk becoming mayor and wanting to come down hard on vigilantes. You'd heard people wondering about what happened to the Devil. But what hurt was knowing that even if Matt refused to put on his suit and help, he was still hearing the pain and suffering of everyone around him. He couldn't just ignore his senses, and you knew that had to be slowly killing him inside.

“You can't fight that side of yourself forever, Matt,” you told him softly. “You can't run from who you are.”

“That's not who I am,” he snapped, shaking his head. “It's not. Not anymore.”

A small, sad smile tugged at your lips at the blatant lie. You didn't need his heightened hearing to know that it was. Your hand reached out in the space between you both, your fingertips lightly brushing over his soft sweater, just above his heart. You saw him stiffen under your touch.

“The Devil is as a part of you as Matt Murdock is,” you murmured. “And he's a hero to more people than you realize. You can't keep him locked away, and you can't keep lying to yourself. It's only hurting you more.”

Your eyes dropped down to where you were touching him, a tense silence following your words. Slowly, your hand fell away from his chest and back to your side, but you noticed the tension and fight had eased out of him almost immediately, as if your touch had briefly soothed something inside of him.

“Please just come back up for dinner,” he begged again, emotion thick in his words. “Please don't go.”

His words were like a knife to the heart, the pleading note of them only adding to the pain. But you knew you couldn't follow him back up there. You couldn't put a smile on your face and pretend like your heart wasn't breaking all over again at the sight of him with another woman. A woman who didn't truly know him yet had someone gotten close enough to move in. 

“I can't, Matty,” you said, noticing how he flinched at the name. Taking a step back, you fought to keep yourself together, not wanting to break down here in the lobby of his apartment building. “I can't do that.”

“Please,” he begged.

A single tear slipped out from beneath his glasses, the sight of it causing you to take another abrupt step back. This hurt so damn much, but you knew going back up with him would only hurt even more.

“Take care of yourself, Matthew,” you said softly. 

Biting down on your cheek, you turned and forced yourself to walk away from him. Throwing a hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs, you headed towards the building's exit and attempted to keep your composure. Just until you could get back to the privacy of your hotel room. But it was so hard to hold yourself together when that same painful thought kept repeating in your mind with every step that continued to grow the distance between the two of you.

He wasn't your Matty anymore.

[always-just-red]

hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.

but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.

maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)

feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.

Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰

Technical Difficulties

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.

Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!

Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?

Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?

You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.

Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:

Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx

Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, okay? You have time.

Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:

Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!

Okay, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.

Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?

“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”

Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”

“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”

The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.

“Mmhmm.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Sylus.”

You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  

“I need to go, okay?” Your eyes are shining.

“Okay,” he says softly.

There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??

You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.

…

You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.

You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.

Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.

Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.

Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.

At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.

You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”

“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.

“How did you even get in here?”

He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.

Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”

“Magicking, yeah.”

You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.

“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  

“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”

Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.

“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”

“Snob.”

“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”

You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.

Nero’s yelling at me

Wants to talk to U

Can U pick up? Pls?

It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”

He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.

Nothing happens.

Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.

With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.

“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.

“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”

“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”

“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”

“No, okay?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”

“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”

“Are you okay?” he asks after a second.

Okay? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”

Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.

You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.

Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.

The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.

“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.

“That’s Skye!” Tara.

Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.

You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.

With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.

Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.

He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.

Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”

“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”

His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”

“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  

Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”

It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.

Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.

It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right.”

“…Good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.

“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”

There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”

Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.

You chuckle to yourself.

And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ leaning on you ˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

read other parts first!!! : part 1 — part 2

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you somehow managed to cross the line with your bunny, can it be pleasurable for the both of you?

tags: 「NSFW! 18+ only! smut | hybrid!lee know | referring to lee know as minho | hybrid wanting to mate | needy!lee know makes a return | humping/thighjob | nipple play | unprotected sex (i dont condone!) | anal | orgasms for both^^ | cuddles are here i promise | reader has no gender」

word count: 2.5k

a/n: hello! i severely apologize to all of you who have been waiting for this part to come out :( ive been struggling to find time to continue to write, and the motivation with it... but here it is! seriously... i can't explain how much i appreciate all of the love you guys have given to my stories♡ im so happy you guys love bunny lee know so much! i also wanted to keep this as neutral as possible regarding the reader (hence the anal) but you can switch it out in your imagination! (i wanted to have all readers to be able to enjoy!) also this is my first smut story being uploaded... i hope you guys have a good read><!!!~

(special shoutout to @omgsecretsecret for helping me edit this part♡)

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

"so do bunnies like you experience everything a human should?"

you didn't know why your mind was drifting towards this direction. for as long as you had minho in your house, you were sure your relationship would be 100% platonic. he was adorable as hell, eased your mind whenever any worries came to you, and was always there by your side. did that give you clearance to make a move on him? you didn't want to ruin the perfect relationship you two had, but you have needs, and you were wondering if he had the ability to share those same needs.

minho paused for a moment, sitting oddly still while you sat above him. you were sitting on the edge of your bed, playing with his hair while he sat on the floor with his head leaning against the mattress. his head was almost at a distance where you could press your thighs against each side of his face, but you resisted enough so the lingering thoughts of teasing him went away.

he turned around briefly to face you, "what do you mean by 'everything'?"

your face began to flush after you realized how insensitive your question could've been.

"not to pry or anything but... aren't bunnies known for... having a high sex drive?" you spat out quickly before your confidence faded away.

his eyes widened, this is the first time youve seen him this shocked at your words. he was too shocked to even reply to you, not that he had anything ready in his mind. you could feel his presence tense up and you wanted to steer clear of whatever dirty path your mind seemed to wander on. he didn't say anything and just turned back around, finally leaning into your thigh. he wrapped one arm around your leg, feeling your cool skin calming down his burning face. having him so close to you when you wanted to run away in shame felt strange. you were always used to being close to minho, but the sudden affection, especially after that moment, was out of place. your leg started to warm up because of his face. starting to relax a bit, you realized that it wasn't the right time to head across that line.

you smiled and started to play with his hair again, looping each little section around your finger into curls. they eventually sprung back to its natural shape once you let go. minho loved this time with you, when all you did was leave your worries for that day and focused on him. it was his favorite thing to do while being with you. he still carried the thought in his mind, 'maybe something would happen during my need for mating'. only time could tell the new moments you two would experience together.

during the late night, you and minho were cuddling in bed. it wasn't strange for the both of you anymore. you knew that minho felt more comfortable knowing that you kept him safe. cuddling with him was the least you could do to comfort him.

this night felt different though. the question you asked earlier felt like a reach into unwanted territories. you wanted him to expand on his feelings, but at the end of the day he was a shy bunny who got flustered easier than you thought.

unsure of your next thoughts, you closed your eyes and tried your best to go to sleep as soon as you could. feeling rustling from behind you, minho's presence inched closer to you. the movement didn't stop, you could feel him shaking now. was it too cold in the room? you stayed as still as possible, trying to make out the noise coming from him. he was whimpering softly, almost like he needed something desperately.

"m-minho?"

you turned around to face him, tears were welling up in his eyes. he was clearly distraught about something but you had no clue what happened. your heart sank, was it because of the invasive conversation from earlier?

he sniffed softly, trying to make out words but ultimately getting choked up.

"i... i need..."

his eyes glanced down to the bottom half of his body. tentatively scanning his body as to what he was trying to point out, the last and most obvious thing you noticed was a slight twitch coming from his crotch, the cloth sticking up as well.

'fuck... is this really happening?' you thought to yourself. you managed to repress and bury all the inappropriate thoughts you had about minho, but he was about to fuel it once again. his face was as pink as ever, in desperate need for your warm touch.

"is this what i think it is?"

"mating tendencies... yeah... i-ive never experienced it while being human, i dont know if it will feel the same. but i r-really need..."

he was huffing between words, stuttering as well.

"let me think for a second."

you turned facing away from him. rubbing your thighs together, trying to hold back the good aching feeling rising within, you couldn't help but panic for a second. would you help him out because he's in pain and needs to relieve himself? how would this moment affect your relationship moving forward? would it be a normal occurrence, or only during his need to mate? would it be better to just ignore it and try hold on to whatever you two had going on when you first met?

your rushing thoughts were interrupted by something warm, sticky, and hard. something poking at your thighs, trying to squeeze itself in between.

you couldn't help but let out a small yelp. that feeling began to rise in you. there was no way things were going back to how they used to be. the movement kept progressing, you glanced down in front of yourself to find the head of minho's cock against your thighs. you wanted nothing more than to take him, take his body, and pleasure the both of you were bound to have.

"minho please.." you reached down towards his cock, ready to progress. he misunderstood and took it as you wanting to stop. he pulled away, hesitantly, already missing the softness of your thighs.

"mm sorry... i j-just need.."

"hey," you turned around slightly to grab his face. you flashed him a small grin, making sure he didn't feel guilty for acting this way around you. "it's okay."

a tear started to stream down one side of his face. your reassurance made him slide himself back in between your thighs. you wondered how it was possible for it to feel so good on your bare skin. you had shorts on but it all of a sudden became more hot under the blankets. your thighs were coated in a thin layer of his precum. he gripped onto your body for a better stroke pattern.

sweet little moans erupted from behind you. minho was the one engulfing your body with his tall stature against you. however, you felt like you were in charge at the moment. letting your sweet bunny try and cum from your body was more than enough for you to start to get horny yourself.

slipping a hand under your shirt, you began to play with your nipples slowly. you shut your eyes and leaned more into minho's chest, hoping that he wouldn't catch you in the act. sweet little huffs turned into loud groans, he was in a trance and he hadn't even started to properly explore your body. he had ultimately noticed you leaning more into him, even arching your back. he wanted you to feel comfortable and not worry as much about trying to relieve yourself on your own. although you were the one trying to help him, he wanted to be the one to help you with your release too.

"let me.. please?" he said while placing his hand on top of yours, wanting to take your place on your chest. you moved your hand down in defeat, it was impossible to say no to him. his hands felt warm on your bare skin. swirling his fingers around you and occasionally pulling, your nipples hardened more and more. your breath started to get unsteady as you wanted more. shivers ran throughout your whole body.

gently breaking the contact of his cock and your thighs, you turned your whole body around to face him. you locked eyes with him and all the guilt and doubts you had in your mind about you two went away. his cock began to twitch at the loss of warmth. you suddenly placed your hand on him, slowly stroking and gliding on him, your hand becoming a sticky mess. he let out a strong huff and tilted his head back. you both were seeing stars. minho was unable to fathom that you were finally touching him, taking in all the strength to not cum right then and there. you were also shocked at how good you felt. seeing his reaction made you more comfortable and ready to move further.

grabbing your face with both hands, he placed a passionate, wet kiss on your lips. his tongue was determined and he kept moving his mouth in ways that sent you to heaven. pulling away to see your reaction, he smiled, "im still all yours, remember?" his voice just became more sexy to you than ever. you quickly locked lips with him again, smiling through it all. his lips were soft and plump from all the action, he bit the bottom of your lip to signal he needed some air. both of you sharing the same blushing expression.

he tried to drag your body back around but ultimately needed assistance. helping him out, you turned around immediately. sticking your ass out on his bare cock, you moved your hips up and down. minho was at his breaking point. he nudged his mouth near your ear, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down. "please? let me put it in... i need to feel you.." his breath was hot and low on your ear. you were surprised you hadn't melted into a puddle yet.

you didn't say anything. you were too drunk off of the bliss feeling lingering throughout your whole body. you placed a hand on top of his that was resting on your hip. he took that as a sign to start.

not a second to waste, he lodged his entire length into your ass, letting out a deep moan into your ear. you arched your back more and almost choked up on the intense yelp you let out. he filled you up so good, it barely hurt from all the precum he was dripping with. he also took his time on the first stroke, pulling out his length so you knew how its absence would feel. you squeezed his hand, wanting more.

he slowly stroked back in, his high coming back harder this time. you felt like your heart was going to explode. his slow rhythm became more loud and sloppy, the wetness spreading throughout your bodies. syncing your moans with each pump, you instinctively rolled your tongue to hang out and pant more. you wanted this feeling to last for as long as possible.

the pace began to increase, and minho wasn't holding back on his moans. this whole time he was in his human form, but this much work was bound to make him change. you didn't notice at first, but his bunny ears appeared and drooped down, gently caressing your face. being in his hybrid form made him more bunny like, it made him go faster. the rhythm was so irresistible, it was fast but gentle, hitting you in all the right places. you felt yourself being filled with more fluid, gliding himself became easier than before.

he held onto your body even closer and tighter. minho started to felt bad about involving you in this situation, but you did want to be closer to him in this way. he wanted to make sure you felt satisfied, so he held himself back and focused the pleasure going to you. the final stretch of your rising heat and the steady rhythm snapped you out of your trance.

"s-slower, please minh-ho," you whined out. you couldn't tell, but he began to smirk at the way his name sounded in that tone. it drove him crazy, the fact that he was actually making you a complete mess. you wanted to savor this addictive feeling, but the slower strokes made your body greedy.

it all came rushing in at once, you let out one last yelp as you rode through your high. minho helped you by holding on to your shaking body.

the sight of your worn body filled himself with so much pride, he was shocked that he hadn't came yet. "did that feel good?" his voice was low and velvety in your ears again.

"y-yes," you managed to whisper out. still sensitive, you could feel him twitching around your walls, which made you choke slightly between breaths. he was trying his best not to move too much, but his body wasn't on his side.

you wanted to help him, but first you needed to recover. he moved his head to your neck, slowly sucking and kissing around to make sure you were okay. his sweet behavior was very calming, especially after the first orgasm you experienced with him.

"dont you want to cum too?" your question snapped him back to the situation at hand.

"can i?"

you nodded lazily, about to doze off at any minute. however, minho was quick to return to his rough pace, making your eyes steady again. he buried his head back onto you, acting like the shy bunny you knew too. the deeper and harder he pumped, he suddenly whispered a quick 'fuck' under his breath, pulling out of you. he grabbed his dick and painted your ass with his warm, thick cum.

it was beautiful, seeing how happy he was to finally get his first orgasm as a human. he pressed his body up against you, getting all the cum and sweat on his body as well. he didn't mind it though, he was too tired to clean up.

he looked drained, you noticed the beads of sweat all over his face and body. he was glistening with a new aura, and he looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. he still managed to give you a crooked smile, letting you know it was a good experience. you started to get flustered, even though you two just experienced the most intimate action ever.

you changed your position, letting your face sit on his chest. you buried and hid your red face from him. he gently reached up to pet your head, soothing you to sleep.

waking up to minho distanced away, you couldn't help but pull him back into a cuddle. he had quickly turned back into his bunny form to recharge from the actions that took place last night. he didn't flinch at all from the movement, he just slowed his breathing down as he was surrounded by a sudden warmth. you couldn't help but feel a little sorry about the sacrifice he took today. you pet his body slowly, kissing his head gently. you wanted to apologize for the state he was in now, but he was the one who made sure that it was okay to go through with in the first place.

♥︎taglist: @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lunathewonyoungstan @syedazarintasnim @yourlocalstayyxi @yukichan67 @qwonyoung23 @cupidcures @verynormalsstuff @leezanetheofficial @brainrotahahaha @kim-hao-han @b0os-jellfyfish @l33felix @wirwirfr @skzmylove75 @katsukis1wife @zyoopioo @katsukisloveinterest

© nmn-yty ★ 7.15.2024

[r3starttt]

Young reader x Caitlyn where reader is an influencer on TikTok / YouTuber and post a lot of soft lunch of Caitlyn ( we never see her face , like js their dates , Caitlyn’s Hand or her back )

And her fans quickly recognize Caitlyn ( how ? Idk crazy fans and the signature colour of Caitlyn’s hair )

The fans are going absolutely CRAZYYY over it.

Imagine this: you start off small, just making fun TikToks here and there. What begins as a casual hobby spirals into something bigger—you’re on YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, maybe even Twitch. Before long, you’re gaining traction, invited onto podcasts, and suddenly, every chance you get, you’re talking about Caitlyn. She’s the actress of the moment, starring in countless queer films, and you’re just like everyone else, hopelessly captivated by her.

It escalates. People tag you in edits of her, and you lean into it, making videos gushing over her because, let’s be real, there’s no way she’ll ever see them. After all, she has social media, but it’s handled by her team. She’s older, more private, and has never publicly talked about being into women. Meanwhile, you’re just a silly influencer with a crush on the unattainable. Or so you think.

One day, you’re invited to the premiere of her latest movie - your dream come true. You get to interview her. When it’s your turn, she surprises you, leaning in with a knowing look you know: “You’re the one who makes those videos, right?” She catches you off guard, and you’re stumbling over apologies. But then she replies again, casually, “I like your content. I’ve been following you for a while."

The internet erupts. Everyone’s talking about how Caitlyn actually knows who you are, how she seemed genuinely charmed by you during the interview. It’s the kind of thing people dream about. But for Caitlyn, it’s more calculated. She’s smart, too smart to let a relationship—especially her first public one—be exposed so easily. Later that night, she sends someone from her team to bring you to the afterparty. It’s discreet, casual, but enough.

It starts with Instagram messages, small conversations that grow into something more. Despite the walls she’s built around her life, you’re charming enough to break through. She’s giggling at your jokes, brushing her hair behind her ear as if she’s not one of the most sought-after actresses in the world. Eventually, she can’t resist, and she asks you out—not for a flashy date, but something quiet and thoughtful, just the two of you.

Caitlyn is not one to flaunt her wealth, but she’s meticulous, researching your likes and interests, piecing together the perfect date. Over time, the connection deepens. Phone calls turn into late-night visits at each other’s homes, and one night, under the soft hum of background music, she leans in, her hands cupping your face as she kisses you. It’s natural.

As the relationship blossoms, you respect her desire for privacy. You post subtle hints on social media—coffee cups at her favorite spot, a new brand of makeup you both love, glimpses of the places you go together. Caitlyn plays along, occasionally posting from the same locations, but always with enough time and space to keep people guessing.

The fans start noticing the small details: her dogs in the background of your Instagram stories, your sweater draped over her shoulders, matching jewelry. It’s a slow burn, a puzzle people piece together over months until the connection is undeniable.

And then, at one of her premieres, it becomes official. You’re by her side, her arm around you, a soft kiss shared in front of the cameras. The world explodes—some people are thrilled, calling it a dream come true. Others doubt it’ll work, citing the differences in your careers and lives. But you don’t care. Caitlyn starts mentioning you in interviews, and every time she does, the audience melts at how deeply she seems to care for you.

#needthat