#This is becoming a regular occurrence now

[all-the-feelss]

I LOVE this song!!!!!!!!! ✨💖💖

[bambiraptorx]

Leo's playing Artificial Intelligence, by the way. Bit of an awkward song to blast at two in the morning.

[daz4i]

they should invent a waking up early that doesn't kill you

[justablah56]

ALSO SORRY FOR USING UR ASK BOX AS MESSAGES WHEN I COULD LITERALLY JUST MESSAGE U ON TUMBLR DISCORD OR THE GROUP CHAT ON DISCORD I JAUT LIKE ABUSING THE TUMBLR ASK BOX

dhnsmxksms no you're literally completely fine , cookies does the same thing I am very used to just fully having normal conversations via asks

[starmocha]

but if it's forever, it's even better [Sylus/Reader ★ 4610 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] “Did you just…say you were…ovulating?” A/N: I finally have a new proper desk again. And I decided to christen it by writing Sylus smut. ♡

Sylus had always made it explicitly known that his home was yours to do as you pleased. He had never once forbidden you from treading into any of the rooms, never once told you that you were not allowed to touch his belongings or use his staff as needed. In fact, he had actively encouraged you to make yourself at home, to treat his place as yours—a home away from home.

Yes, he had made this offer explicitly clear.

It still, however, did not prepare him for just how comfortable you had made yourself in his spare room.

Having awoken not too long ago, Sylus had originally planned to check in on his houseguest. A seemingly innocuous decision that somehow led to him standing outside the guest room, his hand gripping tightly the doorknob as he unwittingly listened to the faint buzzing noises inside the room, mixed with the wanton moans you were making.

“This…girl…” Sylus’ breath quickened, his hold on the doorknob unconsciously tightened, as his mind reeled with images of you shamelessly pleasuring yourself in one of his many beds. He knew he should leave you to…finish, but at the same time, the noises he was hearing was so enticing and sweet, like a siren’s song keeping him trapped in place.

He could hear the vibration adjusting to a different frequency, changing from quick, short bursts to an aggressive pulsation that made you moaned louder, voice reaching a new pitch. Sylus took a glance around the hallways, wondering to himself if you even realized that the walls here were in no way sound-proofed. However, if this was going to become a regular occurrence for your future visits, then perhaps, he should add that change to his home in the near future, Sylus thought wryly.

“Ah—what? No…fuck!”

The buzzing stopped abruptly and Sylus heard your immediate frustrated curse from behind the closed door. He smirked, realizing what might have happened.

He should leave.

However, he would rather mess with you instead—in more ways than one.

He gave three swift knocks, startling you immediately. “Battery died, sweetie?”

He laughed when he heard your mortified shriek.

“You heard?!”

“It’s my house,” he reminded you as if that was enough. “Let me in.”

“No!”

“Sweetie, I do have the keys to all of the rooms in this house,” he said calmly, smirking again when he heard your panicked shuffling inside the room, “I’ll come in one way or another—”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

Sylus crossed his arms, shaking his head in amusement as he heard more panicked noises behind the door. Even he couldn’t imagine what state of mortification you were in. He blinked when he heard you let loose a string of curses as it sounded like items were being thrown haphazardly around. Just as he was about to speak again, the door swung opened and he stared down at you, wrapped carelessly in the bed comforter, face completely scarlet, and your breathing rapid and uneven—possibly as a result from your little private time, but more than likely it was a result of being caught by, of all people, the leader of Onychinus.

“Now I know I offered my home for you to use freely, but—”

“Oh, just get in here!” you quickly yanked Sylus by the arm into the bedroom, promptly shutting the door before anyone else could catch sight of the scene. You immediately locked the door again, turned around, and slid down the door in a state of absolute humiliation. You could barely bring yourself to look at Sylus in the eyes.

“I…I can explain…”

“Go ahead,” Sylus said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed as he stared at your pitiful state. “I’d love to know why Miss Hunter decided to play with herself in my home—and not invite me to join in the fun.”

You glared at him.

“Sweetie, it’s very impolite to glare at the host who so graciously offered you his home while yours is being fumigated for…what was it? Cockroaches?”

“Silverfish…”

“Right,” he said, “Now, sweetie, care to explain yourself?”

“Um,” you started, but honestly, you didn’t even know how to explain yourself to him exactly without making the situation worse. You wrapped the comforter tighter around yourself. “You know this comforter is very soft, Sylus. Maybe I should buy one just like this—”

“I can take you shopping for whatever you may need or want,” he interrupted, seeing through your flimsy attempt to deflect from this awkward conversation, “But only if you explain to me why you were fucking yourself silly with a sex toy just a moment ago.”

“I was…” you racked your brain. “That is to say I am…”

“Go on.”

“Well…I am…” you covered yourself completely in the comforter and the final word you said was completely muffled by your sudden blanket-cocoon.

Sylus sighed, mildly exasperated, and stood up, crossing the room quickly in just a few strides. He bent down to your height on the floor and reached forward to pull the comforter back. He frowned when you avoided eye contact with him. “What was that last word?”

“Sylus…”

“The longer you stall, the worse you’re making for yourself,” he said.

“Ovulating.”

There was an immediate deafening silence in the room as Sylus stared at you, completely unprepared and blindsided by that one word. You stared right back, cheeks burning up even more as you realized what you had just told him.

When Sylus managed to find his voice again, he started hesitantly, “Did you just…say you were…ovulating?”

You nodded.

“And that meant you…”

“I was horny.”

Sylus found his brain shutting down again by your bold confession. He cleared his throat, trying to recompose himself. “And you happened to have brought along your…toy?”

“Well…”

“And you forgot to charge it?”

You flustered and glared at him, hearing that insufferable trademark teasing tone in his voice again. “I thought I did!”

“Well, you thought wrong,” he quipped, amused, “There is one thing about this whole situation that is a bit upsetting for me.”

“Upsetting for you?!”

He nodded, unabashed. “If this kitten was feeling a little frisky, she does know I am just a few doors away, right?”

“Oh, we are not having this conversation!”

Before you could even get up, Sylus pulled you into his embrace, and he stumbled back on the floor with you in his lap. He steadied his balance with one hand behind him while his other arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. He laughed lowly, “You’re right, this comforter does feel soft.”

“What do you think you are doing?!”

He cocked his head to the side in amusement when you glared at him again. “Now, sweetie, I just had to listen to you play with yourself for god knows how long—you don’t think that did something to me?”

“I…I just told you I was ovulating…”

“Mmhmm, you did,” he agreed affably.

“Sylus…” You gasped as he lowered the comforter, revealing your nude body underneath. He smiled appreciatively at the sight while you struggled to speak under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m not on birth control…I could…I could get pregnant…”

“I know,” he said, unconcerned. Before you could respond, he smiled at you roguishly with a slight knowing tilt of his head. “Would that be a bad thing, sweetie?”

“Wh—what?”

“You pregnant with my baby,” he murmured, his hand skimming over your flat belly.

“A baby? You’re joking…”

“Oh?” Sylus looked up, smirking, “Did it sound like I was joking?”

“Sylus, quit teasing me…”

You yelped in surprise when suddenly he shifted you so you were straddling him. Sylus tightened his hold around you, the comforter falling completely off of your body as you found yourself trapped in his embrace. You shivered, unsure if it was because of the sudden cool air caressing your nude body, or more than likely, it was because of the man before you keeping you in his lap. Sylus’ face moved closer to yours, and you attempted to avert his gaze again, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. You felt your stomach dropped when he spoke, his voice held none of his usual teasing.

“Sweetie, I am serious,” he murmured, loosening his grip from your chin, but you found yourself now unable to tear your eyes away from him as he spoke, “I wouldn’t mind seeing this belly of yours all round and swollen with my baby.”

He leaned in and pecked your lips, smirking briefly when you widened your eyes in surprise. He continued, “I wouldn’t mind if people knew it was me who knocked you up—in fact, I’d like that very much.”

“Sylus…”

“I wouldn’t mind if…we have a family together.”

Sylus gauged your reaction, seemingly mindful of his words for fear of scaring you away, but in his eyes, there was a strong resolve. When you didn’t outright object or react negatively to his words, Sylus smiled.

“Mm…” he pressed his forehead to yours, his warm breath brushed against your lips, “We would make such a beautiful baby together…”

Your cheeks tinged pink, but you found yourself at a loss for words, unable to rebuke him. The way he was speaking was making you tingle, feeling a tiny shred of embarrassment, but surprisingly more than that, there was a sense of enthrallment by his words.

“Half you, half me,” he continued, his eyes had brightened when he had said ‘you’. Sylus reached for your hand, guiding it to his lips. He tilted his head to the side again, smiling, “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

You nodded numbly, almost instinctively, as if his deep, smooth voice was hypnotizing you. He continued to speak, but you were barely hearing him now, lost in your own thoughts as you watched this man before you wearing an expression of almost pure joy. You weren’t sure if you had ever seen Sylus as happy as he was now talking about having a baby with you.

The more he spoke, though, the more the thought became enticing to you. Sylus loved you unconditionally and wholeheartedly. All you had to do was ask and he would move Heaven and Earth for you. The depths of his love for you would extend and magnify a thousandfold for the child you two would have together.

Dependable, protective, loving—could you ask for anything more in a partner?

You watched him, seeing his large hand covered your entire tummy, and you could see the almost wistful look in his crimson eyes. Your head tilted a little in wonder, remembering that Sylus had never once brought up the subject of family—his own growing up or even the prospective future. This was the closest the two of you had ever treaded on the topic, and the fact that he was the one who had suggested it first made you realized that he had pondered about the matter before, enough so that he had decided that his future was you and the family you would have together.

You swallowed slowly, feeling a swarm of butterflies fluttered in your belly. You were nervous, a little scared, but more than anything, you had never felt surer of what you were about to say than now.

Your future was with him. That was all you knew, and all you wanted.

“Sylus…”

“What is it, sweetie?”

“I…” you swallowed hard, face flushed with arousal as you locked eyes with the man in front of you, “I…need you…to fuck a baby into me.”

Sylus’ breath hitched the moment those words left your mouth. He steadied his breathing the best he could, but he could feel his heart racing at the thought, at the plea in your soft voice. “Is that what you want?” His words were barely above a whisper, as he could feel himself hardening at the thought of impregnating you with his baby. He continued, the rasp in his deep voice noticeable, “You want me to knock you up, sweetie?”

Just from the sound of his voice alone had you clenching, and you nodded. You had already decided on this, already spoken the words out loud. There was no going back now. You wanted this.

“Use your words,” he commanded, “I want you to say it.”

I need you to say it, his eyes seemed to implore you.

His hands were already around your waist, pulling you up flushed against his body. Your hands rested on his toned chest and you gazed up into those scarlet eyes darkening with desire, the mere sight stealing your breath away as your body trembled with anticipation of what was going to happen tonight the moment you reaffirm your earlier plea.

“I want…”

You could feel Sylus’ fingers digging into your hips, there was an air of impatience around him as he waited for you finish your sentence. You could almost hear the sharp hiss of breath from his barely parted lips as he gazed at you intently.

“…your baby,” you finished, “I want to…have your baby.”

The moment that last word left your lips, you gasped sharply as Sylus immediately lifted you into his strong arms, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist for support as he carried you to the bed. Within seconds, he had you pinned down on the bed, his larger body hovered over you. “That’s a dangerous thing to tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his finger tipped your chin up, exposing your neck to him, “Because now I have no intention of letting you leave this bed until you’re knocked up with my baby.”

You bit down on your lips, holding back another gasp as you felt his large hands trailed down your body, feeling familiar curves with practiced ease. “Ah—!” You squirmed when his lips trailed down your chest to your belly, his hands caressing the flat abdomen with revere.

“Your body is already so gorgeous,” he murmured, kissing your belly again, unaware of your reddened cheeks, “And it’ll become even more beautiful when our baby grows inside you…”

You felt your heart skipped a beat. The way he was speaking as if you were already pregnant made you blushed in embarrassment. You squirmed again, but Sylus immediately gripped your hips, keeping you in place.

“What…” you racked your brain for words, feeling suddenly insecure by his keen attention to your body. When Sylus looked up at you questioningly, you couldn’t help but frowned a little, “You’re just saying that…men don’t really find pregnant women attractive…”

He laughed at your words, making you even more embarrassed. He shook his head in disagreement. “Sweetie, how can a man not find the woman carrying his baby the most beautiful being in the world?”

Sylus loomed over you, his lips hovering above yours as his eyes gazed down at you with deep affections. His hand caressed your cheek in comfort as he spoke, “Sweetie, I can barely restrain myself from touching you now.”

“Hmm?” You looked at him quizzically, making him smiled wider.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” he continued, brushing his lips against yours, “Mm, I’m gonna want to feel you all the time—feel our baby in your womb.”

“Sylus…you’re making me embarrassed now…”

“I’m just stating facts,” he responded, brushing your flyaway hair out of your face, “So trust me, sweetie, I mean it when I say you are the most beautiful woman in my life.”

As if to prove his point, he covered you in endless kisses, responding to your pleased gasps and sighs with his own knowing hums. “We’re going to make such a beautiful baby,” he murmured. “I can’t wait…”

“Sy—”

“Can’t wait to see you grow, to see you swell…” he continued to mumble lazily into your skin, his lips leaving trails of kisses all over. “My beautiful hunter…my beautiful…goddess…”

From his tantalizing words to his expert ministrations, you could feel yourself throbbing, aching to be filled by him. You tugged at his shirt, and he laughed at your impatience before he undressed himself, taking off piece by piece as slow as possible to further tease you, the amusement on his face a complete opposite to your frustration. When the last article of clothing—his boxer briefs—was removed, he allowed you a moment to rake your eyes over his toned body. Sylus ran his hand over his hair, pushing it back as he looked at you with a look of pure lust.

“God,” he muttered, “This is happening…”

He nudged your thighs apart, pleased that you were already so wet, willing, and ready for him. He grasped his hardened member, giving it a few strokes as he prepared to line himself up to your waiting entrance.

“Already this wet, sweetie?” he questioned, his tone light and teasing, “From your little solo playtime, or perhaps, me?”

He didn’t even leave you enough time to respond. You gasped and arched forward, feeling just the tip pressing in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bracing yourself for the massive intrusion.

“Answer me, sweetie,” he murmured, letting more of himself in.

“Y—you!”

He hummed in satisfaction.

You gasped as more of him entered, the feeling of how massive he was bringing tears of both pain and pleasure to your eyes. “Oh—oh, god!” you whimpered when he bottomed out, filling you completely.

“My sweet little cock-warmer,” he murmured, planting more sweet kisses down your neck.

“S-Sylus…please…”

“Please what, sweetie?” he asked, though you both knew he was well aware of what you desired in that moment. When you didn’t respond, he nipped your left earlobe, his sinfully deep voice sending shivers down your spine and straight to your core as he whispered, “Say it, and I’ll give you everything you desire, sweetie.”

You panted softly, almost convinced that with just a few right words, his devilish voice alone could make you cum, but right now, in this particular moment, with his cock situated so perfectly inside you, you needed more.

“Please…”

He raised a brow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as his crimson eyes gleamed in satisfaction at seeing you already so helpless and needy. You could feel his large hands gripping your hips tighter, fingers digging into your flesh, almost as if he was waiting for you to break the final restraint he held.

“…Fuck me,” you uttered at last, voice soft and vulnerable, “Please, Sylus, fuck me…”

You gasped suddenly as he pulled out slowly and then slammed back in, that first thrust already making you see stars and ripping out a cry of pure pleasure from your throat.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, already knowing the answer as he set a steady pace, “Is this what you need, sweetie?”

“Yes!” you yelled out, arms encircled around his neck tighter as you let him take control.

“Doing so well,” Sylus crooned, his thrusts steadily becoming harder, faster, “What a good—hnngh—fucking—hah—girl you are…taking me—ah—so well…”

You were barely aware of your back touching the mattress again as he lowered you back down, taking you in deeper. Your arms loosened around his neck, fingers finding their way to grip the bedsheets. You tossed your head to the side, moaning when his mouth took in your nipple, suckling on it gently at first before his skilled tongue swirled over the sensitive nub, the sensation was enough to have you arching up into him again. He pulled away, making you whined in frustration at the sudden loss of attention, but just as quickly his hand took over to massage your breast, keeping you moaning helplessly for him as he teased and pinched your nipple, feeling it firming under his expert touch.

“Your breasts will fill up with milk for our baby,” he murmured, already picturing you nursing his baby. He smiled at the thought, unable to contain his excitement. He squeezed your breast harder and you cried from the feeling of his calloused hand on your soft flesh.

Amidst the pleasurable stimulations of him massaging your breast as he drove himself into you, you had a thought—a need, really. “I…” you felt your cheeks warming up again, embarrassed or otherwise, you weren’t sure anymore, but you still voiced your newfound desire aloud, “Sylus…I want…”

“Hmm?” He tilted his head a little, his gentle smile remaining as he waited for you to finish your thought. With his thick member so deep inside you, you could barely think straight, your focus shifting back and forth between the feel of him and his arousing words that spawned your new thought.

“I want you…to have the…first taste.”

His smile faltered. “What?” Sylus paused, but there was an intense look of intrigue in his eyes, never once expecting such words to leave your lips, but the bold suggestion had him excited by the prospect. He watched you intensely, waiting for you to repeat the sweet offer and confirming that he had not misheard you.

“My milk,” you clarified, face flushed red, “I’d want…you to taste it first…”

“You want me to…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence as he laughed, delighted by this surprising offer. The look he gave you was a mix of arousal and absolute adoration. “Oh, sweetie,” his voice was breathless as he pulled you in for another intense kiss, “You are going to be my fucking demise.”

You whined against his lips, your voice swallowed by him eagerly. The overwhelming stimulations of his relentless kisses and renewed strength had you fumbling with your thoughts and words as the only thing you could focus on was just the feel of him touching you—inside you.

“Oh god, oh god!” you whimpered when he started moving faster, driving into you harder, deeper. “Ah—Sy-Sylus!” You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the beginning of the familiar tightening that signified your impending release.

Lost in your focus on the feeling of your approaching climax, you didn’t even notice that Sylus’ movements had become more hurried, graceless, and eager. His eyes greedily drank in the sight of you beneath him losing yourself to this state of euphoria. His mouth parted, panting, as he gripped your hips harder, enough that there would be bruise marks by morning. He could barely hold back a groan as he felt your walls tightening around him.

This is it.

You were so fertile right now, the perfect moment for him to fill your womb full of his virile seed. Watching you unraveled before him, Sylus’ eyes darkened with pure lust, a haze washing over him as he was consumed with only one thought and goal.

She’s perfect.

So perfect.

Gonna fill her up.

Knock her up.

Mine, she’s all mine.

Fill that pretty little cunt.

Pump her full.

Breed her.

You screamed in pleasure as without a word, Sylus pumped you full of his seed, emptying into you so much that there was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant from this encounter.

“Sylus!” Your legs wrapped around his waist tighter, pulling him in deeper, needing him to fill you completely. Your walls tightened around him, squeezing and milking all of him for your womb. You were going to get pregnant. You were going to have his baby.

Sylus’ baby.

You whined and sobbed into his shoulder as you felt both his release dripping down your thighs and the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through your spent body. His arms wrapped securely around your waist, keeping you held against him, close enough that you felt all of his body heat and the warm sweat that glistened on his skin.

“Good…girl,” he gasped, rubbing your back up and down as you came down from your high, “Such a good girl for me. Only me.”

Sylus lowered you back down on the plush mattress, your half-lidded eyes gazed up at him, meeting his pleased smile. You lay on the bed boneless, drained, and satisfied, feeling his heavy body still hovering over you as you listened to his deep voice murmuring, unsure whether he was speaking to you anymore or to himself.

“…Mine. Mine to have.”

Mine to breed.

He stared down at you, almost in a state of awe, the realization of what had happened made his heart speed up. His eyes focused on your belly, already imagining that it was going to grow bigger, rounder, in the coming months with his child in your fertile womb. There was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant from this session, but even if you didn’t, Sylus had already planned on fucking you until you showed the first sign of pregnancy. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he could even restrain himself from taking you even when you were round and full with his child.

“Oh, sweetie…”

You looked up at him doe-eyed, making his heart softened further. For all of his talks about his lack of luck, he knew he had hit the jackpot with you. The greatest fortune of his life was meeting you, and he was willing to risk all of the good luck in his lifetime to keep you in his life by his side.

Sylus’ cheek brushed against your head before he leaned inward and pressed his lips there. His hands continued to rub you up and down while you both recovered from your shared climaxes. “Shh, I got you, I got you, sweetie…”

When he pulled out of you, Sylus laid down on his back on the bed, dragging you to lay on top of him. He continued to hold you close to him, clearly having no intention of letting you out of his embrace any time soon. Just as well, because all you wanted in that moment was to remain close to him—skin to skin and heartbeats in-sync.

“Sylus…”

He hummed softly, his hands still rubbing your back gently. You could feel your heart calming down, your breathing returning to normal. You rested your head on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall as his own breathing evened out.

The world suddenly felt so still and quiet, as if you and him were the only occupants remaining. You raised your head from its place on his chest, eyes widened when you made out his loving smile. You sighed happily when he caressed your cheek and his thumb brushed over your lips.

Your heart fluttered as he spoke, his normally deep voice a light, soft murmur:

“My pretty hunter.”

“You’re so full of it…”

He laughed and shook his head, amused by your weak attempt to counter him. His eyes wandered down, lingering on your flat stomach once more. He looked pleased.

“Your body is going to change so much,” he husked and your heart skipped a beat once more, “It’ll be all my fault that you’re nice and swollen with my baby.”

“Sy-Sylus!”

He chuckled again and pulled you deeper into his embrace. Your cheek pressed against his chest again, his large hand resting gently, but firmly, on the back of your head keeping you in place. Your stomach did flips when he spoke again:

“Rest for now, sweetie, the night is just beginning.”

“What?”

He laughed. “Oh, sweetie, we are just getting started,” he said, eyes twinkling in amusement when he caught sight of the pretty blush rising on your cheeks, “I meant what I said earlier: you are not leaving this bed until you are pregnant with my baby.”

You started to protest, but he captured your lips with his, parting just long enough to whisper: “I’m going to enjoy you all night long, sweetheart.”

[daosies]

when you get injured

sylus, xavier, rafayel ♡ gn!reader

warnings: alcohol (sylus), graphic depictions of violence, sylus is his own warning he's so freaky (but hes so fine), major story spoilers (all three), blood, mc is the protagonist but gender neutral, lowercase intended

notes: MISTY INVASION GOT ME

sylus always looks forward to your calls.

he likes listening to you ramble about the little nothings of your day, the mindless white noise that echoes from your end whenever you get lost in thought.

more often than not, sylus isn't satisfied with just that. sometimes, he wishes he could witness your expressions for himself rather than through the chirps and retellings from mephisto, to narrow the distance between the two of you.

clink! he lifts a glass of whiskey up to his lips.

sylus eyes his phone before taking a sip, gaze beginning to drift around the vastness of his bedroom. warm lamps illuminate the corners and his attention redirects towards the various plushies that line the shelves.

ever-so slightly, the corners of his lips break into the subtlest of smiles.

his gaze returns to the phone.

later than usual, sylus thinks, staring at the pretentious (according to you) grandfather clock in his room. tick, tick. its tempo mimics his heartbeat, the steady rhythm falling into place.

sylus's days are redundant—they have been for quite a while—but what he always looks forward to is your calls, which always come at this time.

except for today, it seems. even though you're not obligated to call him, and you never told him that these calls would become a regular occurrence, sylus has grown expectant. terribly so.

he takes another sip of his drink, eyes darting back and forth from his phone to his wristwatch.

sylus would like to maintain his image as an independent, mysterious alpha; but you—oh, you—have a knack at dismembering him, at taking apart the chambers of his heart and weaving yourself into its tissue. you tattoo yourself into his skin, permeating into his existence without ever realizing.

you've always been a little cruel. sylus likes that about you.

tick, tick. he half-considers calling you first. when it comes to you, sylus has nothing to lose—from the crimson of his irises to the crimson of his blood, he's surrendered everything, offering all that he has in a ferocious, lovely organ that goes, endlessly: thump, thump, thump...

he thinks of your fantastic beauty. the tempo stutters.

tick, tick. ring! sylus reaches for his phone within an instant, not caring about luke and kieran's spiel about how a "real charmer" would wait for the phone to ring multiple times before picking up. but sylus doesn't have time to play games like that—he wants to hear your voice and he wants to hear it now.

"so, you finally decided to call, hm?" sylus asks, swirling his drink leisurely. he brings the glass up to his lips, unable to contain the way a smirk breaks out onto his face, the way you do so much as exist, the way you radiate and oh, the way you seek him out!

sylus thinks he's never felt so satisfied before, with all that he's ever achieved, you just might be the greatest of them all.

and he hasn't even achieved you yet. he thinks he never will; you've always been volatile, wildly beautiful and wildly free. again, sylus likes that about you.

you don't respond. sylus sets his glass down on the table, unbothered, smirk still fixed onto his lips. that is until he hears a loud crash from your end, the sound of labored breaths following soon after.

"[name]?" sylus calls, standing up immediately. his whiskey remains forgotten, free hand reaching for the leather coat draped across his chair, the fabric still stained red from earlier events.

sylus has no time to worry about how he presents himself, because before you can even utter another word, he's racing out of his pretentious (according to you) mansion and swinging a leg over his motorbike.

the steady tempo of his heart begins to race, beating the rhythm of the grandfather clock that, endlessly, echoes tick, tick... sylus attributes its consistency to the fact that the grandfather clock, in all its glory, has never had the pleasure of knowing you.

if it did, then its flow would be disrupted, its rhythm would stutter and leap, and sylus knows this fact all too well because it's happened to him. because it's happening to him.

thump, thump-thump... "[name]," sylus calls. he says your name just to say it, to feel its syllables on his tongue, to swallow the sound and let it reverberate throughout his chest, easing the spasm of his heart and the fracturing of his ribs.

"[name], talk to me," sylus says, the steadiness of his voice starkly contrasting the tremble of his irises. "[name], i'll be there. count to three?"

one. he revvs the engine.

two. his fingers tighten around the handlebars.

three. the tempo of his heart goes, achingly, thump-thump-thump, thump... for a second, the sound changes. for a second, the sound shifts and utters, in the softest of timbres: you.

black and red tendrils spew from the ground below you, wrapping your figure in a tender embrace whilst the sound of an engine rings throughout your ears.

smoke envelopes the room, your vision becoming blurry while the tendrils shrink away, their absence filled in by the warmth of calloused hands.

sylus lifts you up, pressing your head against his chest before whispering, "go to sleep, darling. it'll all be over soon."

when your eyes lull back, and your body falls limp, sylus goes mad. his hands never leave your figure, his evol forming limbs to strangle your opponent, watching the way they writhe and scream without ever tearing his gaze away.

"report," sylus demands, talking to no one.

"after finding out [name] was closely associated with you, boss, this person tried to get some information about you." still, someone responds.

sylus chuckles. "two corrections." he steps towards the suffocating person, crimson gaze trailing theirs and landing on you. when he notices this, sylus clicks his tongue, tightening the tendrils of his evol and forcing the perpetrator to look away from you.

tenderly, sylus caresses the side of your face, as if to brush away that person's distateful gaze.

"[name] and i are more than just close associates," sylus continues with his previous statement, holding you closer towards him. he finds solace in the way your chest rises up and down, reassuring him of your vitality, your incomparable radiance.

"and," he says, retracting his evol. the person falls to the floor with a harsh thud, and sylus merely tilts his head in the direction of the body, commanding the twins to clean the corpse up.

"that isn't a person. it's just some pest. kieran, don't make that mistake again."

luke snickers.

kieran straightens up, mop in hand. "yes, boss!"

only when your breathing steadies does sylus's heart return to its regular rhythm, matching the pace of the pretentious grandfather clock.

you've taken his bed (he's given it, really), and sylus doesn't bother pulling up a chair; sinking to his knees as he gazes at you fearfully, reverently. his hands come up to cover yours, elbows digging into the mattress. the warmth of your skin mixes with his own.

you've taken his bed, but sylus thinks that that's only one of the many things you've taken. you've taken his mind, his heart, him. you've taken all that he's got to give, all that he's ever fathomed of being his.

"you're always so cruel," sylus mutters to himself, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

(but, i love that about you, he thinks.)

your head and side are wrapped with bandages, tended to by sylus himself. he doesn't trust anyone else—not even luke or kieran—when it comes to treating you; you're too delicate, too fragile for a place like this.

sylus's gaze remains fixed on the bridge of your nose, the cracks of your lips. sweat trickles down your forehead, your brows furrowed from discomfort and nightmares plaguing your sleep. he reaches a hand to brush the sweat away, grazing across your skin until your brows ease up, until your expression drifts into that of contentedness.

oh, you're beautiful. ethereally so.

(you don't belong here.)

still, sylus's hand traces over yours. he feels the callouses adorning your palm, marred by your work as a hunter. filling the gaps of your fingers with his own, sylus's hand locks into place.

(you call it abduction. he calls it love.)

whenever it comes to you, xavier is on high alert.

he's always hyper aware of your location, your status and your surroundings. whenever you fight wanderers together—as partners often do—he's always thinking of you, of ways to redirect everything towards him, of ways to get you as far away as possible.

for the longest time, xavier thought that that'd be enough. he thought that, so long as you're okay, he doesn't care about what happens to him, about what happens to anything. he's always thought that, really. here and philos alike.

"xavier!" you yell, and before he can even react, your figure comes colliding with his, arms wrapping tightly around the back of his neck as the two of you tumble towards the ground.

he doesn't know what went wrong—was it his clumsiness? was it his arrogance? he had always thought that, so long as you were safe, nothing else mattered.

but xavier had never thought of a situation where he was the one at risk, where he was the one who needed saving. he had never thought that you'd be the one to sacrifice yourself, because, ever since he met you, xavier identified himself as a sword, as a weapon at your disposal.

he is your weapon. he is yours.

xavier's hand comes to the small of your back, feeling the blood seep in between the gaps of his fingers. his breath falls short of escaping, shrinking down his esophagus and bringing everything, from the race of his heart to the warmth of his face to a standstill.

primal instincts take over. xavier fights with tooth and nail, forgetting all that he's learned from his swordsmanship classes—but oh, never forgetting his time with you—while his grip around your waist tightens.

his movements are quick and wild as he slices through each wanderer with the efficiency of a machine, running on a code that prints out, endlessly, you, you, you.

after everything has been eliminated, xavier reaches for your neck, searching desperately for a pulse. after confirming that it's there, he teleports away to the nearest hospital, free palm pressing into the center of your wound.

xavier's scared. he's scared you won't make it. he's scared he's failed you. he's scared of a lot of things, really.

when you're wheeled away in a stretcher, tended to by a whole team of medical professionals, xavier's left yearning and waiting, clinging onto nothing but hope and a fragmented memory of you. he's always yearned—back in philos and here, now—but it's a little different this time.

you've always been out of reach, like you were a star and he, an observer. but now, you're so tangible, so delicate and so fleeting despite being right there.

xavier feels like you could disappear within an instant, and he wouldn't put it past you to leave this life behind, to restart anew somewhere else. with someone who was a little stronger than him, a little less selfish.

he's selfish. so what?

you evoke something primal within him, something that makes him forget his etiquette classes and his time at the academy, wasting away at textbooks and duels. you make xavier burn, wildly, fantastically, like a flame—like a star, even.

you make him feel unlike himself, because xavier's used to being calm and collected and oh-so drowsy, but when it comes to you, everything changes. the world reinvents itself anew and presents itself, fogged in a pink lens, as something lovelier than before.

xavier resigns himself to one of the many chairs of the waiting room. he buries his face into his gloved hands, not caring about the messiness of his appearance.

when he closes his eyes, all he can see is your limp figure. he opts to stare at the television screen instead, the reports of the news appearing mute to his deafened ears. xavier swallows thickly, mouth feeling terribly dry, wrapped around the shape of your name. it waits.

a couple hours pass, and a nurse appears to fetch him. xavier says nothing, tongue still stuck in time.

only when he enters your room, and listens to the repetitive beep of the heart monitor, does his mouth free itself from its prison, liberating itself to utter, in the faintest of whispers, "[name]..."

you don't stir awake. xavier's fine with that. he pulls a chair to your bedside, and he sits, and he stares. periwinkle eyes trail across your features, tracing them like a sculptor, desperate to reshape the bandages and gauzes that cover your abdomen.

xavier wishes he could crawl into your body and steal all the pain for himself.

there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him, the kind of instinct that is only ever sung about in epics and myths and tragic, star-crossed plays.

he reaches forward, bare thumb coming to graze over your cheekbone. you're quiet, too quiet, and xavier's paranoid. too paranoid.

there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it takes over xavier's eyes and it trains them to fixate on you.

your image slips into his sight, swallowed greedily by xavier's pupils, remembered fervently by his mind. while his hands cannot have you, xavier compensates with his eyes, desperate and mad and oh, so lovely.

there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.

xavier forfeits his beloved sleep in order to watch over your heart monitor, to watch over your heart.

even when all the lights shut off, and when the device's beeps blend into the white noise of the hospital room, his periwinkle gaze never leaves your figure, adjusting to the darkness and finding solace there.

(a star has landed on earth. it's guided by a great, irrevocable instinct. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.)

once more, xavier's mouth wraps around the shape of your name. it utters, in the softest of timbres, "[name], i love you."

although you aren't awake to respond, xavier is content with just this.

(a star has landed on earth. it stayed because it found you.)

"[name]," he whispers again, finding comfort in the familiar syllables, "i love you." maybe, saying it will make it realer than it already is. maybe, saying it will satiate his soul, providing him with enough sustenance to feast on for the next century or two.

maybe, xavier just calls your name to feel its syllables on his tongue. because he likes the sound of your name. because he wants to hear it, in whatever capacity, whenever he can.

maybe, it's just a great, irrevocable instinct.

whatever it is, xavier is content. he stares at you, and he feasts.

it always goes like this: with rafayel chasing after you.

you have a habit of leaving him behind—rafayel thinks it's just in your nature.

you give him a taste of everything before leaving him with nothing, and even though rafayel hates, hates you for that, he can't help but want everything again.

(he had everything, once.)

"[name]!" the scream that erupts from rafayel's throat is raw, marred by a desperation and anguish that travels across lifetimes. rafayel can't lose you—not again, not like this.

"raf—" you're interrupted by a violent cough, blood spilling from your lips. "just go!"

and there you go again, in all your selfish glory, in all your inconsiderate and shameless heroism. do you like watching his expression drop into that of utter horror, when all he's ever wanted was you?

he can never get his way.

"ugh," he mutters to himself, voice cracking at the end. "i just hate you, you know!?" your gaze is preoccupied by the giant wanderer that looms over your figure, its attention belonging wholly to you.

rafayel has the audacity to be offended. hello? he manages to think, despite all the fear and anxiety. why's it not looking at me? i'm right here!

you aim your gun at the wanderer's head, and rafayel almost wants to laugh. to think you're fighting close-combat with guns—wow, what an accomplished bodyguard you are!

rafayel is half-considering finding a new bodyguard now, because it looks like his current one isn't too bright in the head.

rafayel hates the way you go around, saving everyone, saving everything. he hates the way you save and the way you forget, the way you go around picking up more strays whilst forgetting your first one.

rafayel hates you. he hates you. he hates you!

despite all the pain and soreness in his (self-proclaimed) delicate limbs, he rushes forward, daggers in hand while fire vomits from the ground. rafayel hates you, sure, but hate and love are lawfully wedded, tightly intertwined and fueled by one another.

rafayel hates you. he hates you. but oh, he loves you. he loves you in the way he's willing to let you keep that heart of his, the way orpheus loved eurydice, the way he did everything and anything, only to catch a glimpse before losing it all.

he charges in front of you, occupying the wanderer while you take a couple steps back. rafayel half-wishes you'd run. he half-wishes you'd turn and abandon him so he could find it in himself to abandon you. you did it once before, so why can't you do it again?

when bullets stop flying, rafayel wonders if you left. he wonders if it's really over. so, he looks back.

you're still there. this time, you don't disappear. your eyes meet his, and somehow, you find it in yourself to smile.

he wants to cry.

"rafayel, let's resonate!"

and oh, you're otherwordly. you're so, so gorgeous. it's in the flame that dances across your irises, the determination that settles into your features.

you're so beautiful it hurts, because rafayel hates the effect you have on him, the way you go around enchanting everyone, everything!

when crimson blood trickles down your face, staining your skin a violent red, rafayel thinks you're sublime. he feels insignificant in your radiance, in your marvelous existence, your marvelous world.

"fine, let's!"

your hand locks with his, and rafayel hates the way his heart skips a beat. he hates the way yours didn't. he hates the way he's the only one overthinking these things, the only one who remembers after all this time.

the world is engulfed in flames. and rafayel spares you a glance, your skin illuminated by the warmth, flickering in and out. the wanderer disintegrates into ash, leaving nothing but a measly protocore for all the suffering it put him through.

your eyes fall back. instinctively, rafayel reaches a hand out, catching you in his arms despite hating the way you contort his limbs, the way you make him trail after you like a madman.

he is anything but a madman—in fact, rafayel is perfectly normal.

still, he cradles you in his arms. blood trickles from the side of your face.

"you're not the only one bleeding," rafayel mutters bitterly, feeling lightheaded himself. "who do you even think you are?"

his thumb comes to brush your chapped lips, wiping stray droplets of blood from the dried skin.

you're ethereal. rafayel will never admit that outloud. not like this. but, he thinks that you're something akin to a grecian statue, reflecting all that is lovely and all that is mortal.

rafayel thinks that, when you were crafted—long before this current incarnation—you were crafted with the most delicate of touches, the loveliest of visions.

he looks at you, and he wants to create. he wants to waste away at his canvases, wild and fanatic and looking over his shoulder, wondering if you'll still be there when it's all over.

knowing your nature, you won't be.

still, rafayel can't help but dream. dreams can change the world, after all. dreams are what led him back to you.

his thumb reaches for his own lips. he kisses the skin and he weeps.

rafayel hates you.

he hates you so, so much.

he shrinks into your figure and he follows your heartbeat, the sound so, achingly familiar.

when you regain consciousness, it's in rafayel's studio. your figure is drowned in pearl-white blankets, your wounds wrapped tenderly with fresh bandages.

"good mooorning, sleepyhead," rafayel says, not facing you. his hands are occupied with a brush and palette, head craned upward to fully take in the canvas. "some bodyguard you are, huh!"

"rafayel!" you quickly exclaim, trying to stand up. rafayel is quick to turn around, setting his palette down to wag a disapproving finger at you.

"nuh uh! don't get out of bed! get some rest! and oh, don't even talk to me! not until you've apologized for doing all that dumb, fish-brained stuff!"

rafayel looks back. you're still there.

in this life, rafayel thinks he has everything.

[tired-biscuit]

I licked it so it’s mine

pairing: stepbrother!yuuji/fem!reader

premise: After a long day of work, you decide to make use of the empty house by having some drinks and a movie night with your older stepbrother. Eventually, one drink turns into two, two become three, and so on. As the buzz of the alcohol progressively fills you with more and more courage, interesting things commence.

cw: 18+ MDNI. stepcest, ‘in the flurry of the moment’ setting, no curses AU, characters are in their 20s, intoxication, dubcon, implied corruption, coersion and pressuring from reader, descriptions of size difference, manhandling and roughness — poor yuuji gets a little too into it in the end.

wc: 6.7k

divider credit: @/adornedwithlight

———

Your big stepbrother Yuuji is likeable. He always has been.

To be fair, what is there not to like? When it comes to his looks, Yuuji is tall, handsome, a proud owner of a pair of pretty honey-coloured eyes that make him resemble a puppy, and an even prettier smile. Every summer, his skin gets this wonderful, almost golden tan that makes him outright glow from within, and his face gets sun-kissed, causing his already rosy cheeks to get dotted with tiny, barely visible freckles that gather under his eyes and only enhance his cuteness.

However, after living with him for so long, you’ve since learned that he rarely actually pays attention to his appearance, much less dresses to impress.

After all, Yuuji is a simple man. He does not care about clothes besides the level of comfort they provide, and yet he still somehow manages to achieve victory. Catching girls checking him out when he’s in nothing but his trusty pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt is a common occurrence. Even listening to flustered whispers and giggles has turned into a regular thing at this point.

On top of all that, he’s also nice. Kind and open and warm – you could use so many more positive words to describe your stepbrother’s wonderful personality, but you’re pretty sure that they’d never do it justice. Perhaps the only bad thing you could say about him is that he’s too nice. Too helpful and giving.

Especially towards the people who don’t deserve it.

And as you watch him from the corner of your eye now, hanging out at the park and licking the ice cream that he’d treated you to as a reward for beating him in his favourite video game, you try to consider yourself as one of the people who do deserve his everlasting kindness. Who do deserve to be treated nicely by him, and to hear the laughter in his voice, and to accept his almost naive generosity.

It’s a nice day out today. The wooden park bench that you’re sitting on currently is warm from the setting sun that still filters through the leaves above your heads. Small, moving patches of light and shadow linger everywhere, causing you to stare, almost mesmerized, as some of them lazily continue to dance across your big brother’s face.

Yuuji’s arms are splayed wide open and draped on either side of the worn backrest that you’re both leaning against. He’s finished his ice cream ages ago, so now he’s got his legs outstretched and his head angled up towards the sky, enjoying the peaceful tranquility that this year’s summer brings. 

There are quite a few people out and about in the park during this time of day – most of them joggers and dog walkers that are using the slightly cooler temperatures to their benefit – but if you listen closely, you can make out distant shouting and laughter coming from a group of children who are occupying the playground that’s on the other side of the trees.

The sound makes you feel kind of old, so you zero in on your sandals to keep yourself busy.

“Remember when you used to scream like that?”

“What?” 

When you turn your head to the side again, Yuuji’s gaze looks expectant.

“Back when we were kids,” he explains, jerking his chin towards the direction of the playground. “You got all shrieky and high-pitched whenever it was my turn to chase you, remember? Made you sound like a deflating balloon just by running in your direction.”

“Oh!” You take another lick of your ice cream, fully flattening the scoop before sinking your teeth into the edge of the cone. The scent of strawberries fills your nose in an instant. “In my defense, that probably happened because I didn’t like playing tag with you all that much.” 

He quirks an eyebrow at this, intrigued. “How so?”

“Well, for starters, your legs were longer than mine, which made you catch up so fast that it wasn’t fun for me anymore. Aaand your hands were also always sticky for some reason,” you reply, still chewing on the wafer. “It was gross.”

“Wow, okay.” He rolls his eyes but it immediately gets followed by a brief chuckle that escapes his lips. “Excuse me for trying to be a little bit sentimental with my clean freak of a baby sister.”

“I’m normal… You’re just nasty,” you fire back, smiling when he goes to playfully shove you.

His hand is warm when it lands on your shoulder; so warm, in fact, that you can feel the rise in temperature even through the sleeve of the thin, cropped T-shirt that you’ve put on this morning. 

It doesn’t take you by surprise. For as long as you’ve known him, Yuuji has been one to have blood as hot as molten lava running through his veins. You’re unsure how he survives it whenever the weather is scorching hot, like today for example – August has always proved to be a bitch whenever it comes to heat – but so far he seems to be doing just fine.

And while it may be weird to some, him being hot-blooded is the reason why you sometimes like to drag him into your bed during the winter months, when it’s cold and you come back home from work feeling like your toes have turned half-frozen in your shoes. Besides being provided with good company, he’s also like your own personal heater.

And that’s it. There’s nothing else to it; how could it be when he’s your stepbrother, for crying out loud! You grew up together and have lived under the same roof for years. He’s walked into your room just to leave the lights on and the door open so many times. You’ve endured his godawful Fortnite phase and have seen him be at his worst just as he did with you. The only feelings that you harbour for him are strictly platonic. 

You’re both pretty set on that.

“I should take that ice cream from ya as a form of punishment for being so mean to me,” said stepbrother teases now, pulling you back from your thoughts. When you look up at him, he’s grinning like a little boy. From ear to ear and in a way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Cute.

“Nu-uh,” you respond, allowing the evidently distrustful tone to lace your voice. “I licked it so it’s mine.”

“Tsch.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Like that’s ever been an issue before. C’mon, give.” 

“It is for me because unlike you, I’m not- Hey!” Before you can finish your sentence, he swipes the ice cream from your hand, successfully stealing it right in front of your nose.

You glare at him now, brow slightly furrowed in annoyance, as Yuuji proceeds to lick the melting sweet with exaggerated delight. Since whatever was left of the scoop sank deeper into the cone, you realize that you’re unexpectedly intrigued by the fact that he needs to push his tongue out a little more to get to it. 

And he does; of course he does. He twirls it across the flat, creamy surface, and it’s not long before the inside of his mouth is coated in milky pink and there’s a hum of overly satisfied approval sounding from the back of his throat.

You’re unsure how to feel about the entire thing, but you definitely don’t dwell on it.

“Mmm,” he purrs, squeezing his eyes shut. He even makes sure to go as far as to smack his lips. “Mmm-mmm-mm! So good.”

For whatever reason, you feel your stomach do a weird spin as you listen to the sounds he’s making now. It’s like there’s an instant flash of heat searing through your body, similar to the pesky one that you get in the middle of the night when you’re hormonal and on your period, but before you can even properly acknowledge it, it’s gone as fast as it came.

“Again: you’re so gross,” you manage to say with a huff that’s supposed to be disapproving but doesn’t sound like that at all. The shake of your head that you add to the jab also feels somewhat unnatural. Every one of your mannerisms does, actually.

Yuuji, seemingly blissfully ignorant of your inner turmoil, laughs before he takes a giant bite out of the side of the cone and finally hands it back to you.

“Hey, at least my hands ain’t sticky this time.”

———

The house is empty when you come back home that evening.

This too is not much of a surprise, really. Your parents have been gone for the last couple of days, enjoying their yearly vacation to the seaside that neither you nor Yuuji could attend this time because of your work schedules. 

So while your mom and his dad are basking in the sun and drinking sugary cocktails, you’re waking up at six in the morning every day to make it to your dull desk job in time, and he’s stuck flipping burgers at McDonalds and honing his social skills in the drive-through booth for eight hours every day.

Poor, poor you.

“Did you see the drinks they’re having over there? Gosh,” Yuuji grumbles on this exact topic as he throws himself onto the couch and flicks the TV on. His expression looks mildly conflicted at the list of movies he’s being offered by the streaming service you’re both leeching off of, but it eases back into neutral as soon as he rests his feet atop the coffee table and crosses his ankles. “They even had those fancy umbrellas on the top and everythin’.”

“There, there,” you say, quickly patting his knee before sitting down beside him. You’re not sure why, but you pay extra attention to the small sliver of distance that you keep between his leg and your own now. The feeling from earlier didn’t fully go away yet, so touching him or him touching you still feels kind of odd.

Meanwhile, Yuuji doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at all, because now he’s resting his head against your shoulder, invading your personal space whilst he pouts.

The action is nothing unusual for him – it’s normal, he does it all the time – and yet you still swallow thickly, trying to ignore the sudden hyper awareness. 

“What is it now, you big baby?” you manage to muster out, taking the remote from him.

“Eh… It’s nothing,” he says.

“Aha,” you say.

“Well… It’s just that I want nachos and cocktails with fancy umbrellas, too!” he bristles at your prodding, pressing the side of his face even further into your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek because of it.

“We have nachos at home,” you utter, trying to avoid the ticklish sensation.

“Yeah. Shitty tortilla chips that come in a bag, with a side of tasteless dip from the fridge,” he quips. “Yum.”

You stifle your laughter. He’s making such a big deal out of a silly thing like nachos. “I’m pretty sure they all come in a bag, Yuu… Come to think of it, theirs are probably stored in one of those big, wholesale bags that most food places get.”

“Well, I want the wholesale ones, then.”

“You’re pretty set on this, huh?”

He just gives you a look.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you ramble, pulling back just enough to make him lift his head and look at you properly. “How about… we try to make semi-decent nachos and cocktails with what we have, and have ourselves a little movie night since we’re both off work tomorrow and we definitely deserve it after all the pain and suffering we’re going through?”

Yuuji muses. “All you do at your job is sit behind a desk all day.”

You feel your eyes narrow. “So?”

“So,” he says, sounding smug. “I’d hardly call that pain and suffering.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you chide. “I wasn’t aware that your job also consisted of crawling underneath barbed wire and coming face to face with excruciating death between all those burgers you flip.”

He pokes you in the side for the insult. After jumping a little bit at the ticklish sensation, you make sure to immediately return the favour.

“Do you want those cocktails or not, Ronald McDonald?”

Yuuji stretches his arms above his head and yawns before he gets ready to stand up. “Yeah, yeah… Let’s make ‘em fancy.”

He follows you into the kitchen then, where you both work to recreate the vacation food and drinks to the best of your – and your pantry’s – capabilities. 

The nachos end up being surprisingly decent after you sprinkle some shredded cheese on top and give them a spin in the microwave. The cocktails, on the other hand, are a mixture of cheap wine from the corner store and coke, adorned with pieces of sliced pineapple at the top because you sadly ran out of cute paper umbrellas, much to Yuuji’s disappointment.

Though in the end, everything works out just fine.

You have yourselves a nice, perhaps you could even call it relaxing kind of evening. You change into your comfortable pyjama shorts and tank top, he gets rid of his T-shirt because he prefers being shirtless during the summer, and you play a couple rounds of his favourite game again; all of which you lose because Yuuji decides that he isn’t holding back this time. Afterwards, you watch a movie that isn’t all that good necessarily, but isn’t half bad either, and take rather hefty sips of your makeshift cocktails.

By the time the credits start to roll, you’re both feeling a little buzzed and warm in the face. Neither of you feels like calling it a night just yet, though – being off work the next day at the same time happens so rarely, after all – so you decide on watching something equally as uneventful and drinking some more.

So that is how both yourself and Yuuji end up drinking more than you’d initially planned. The alcohol becomes easier to swallow down when you’ve already numbed out your taste buds and have adapted them to the cheap, shitty wine flavour. It even makes the pineapple slices look cool.

And now you’re both drunk. Not shitfaced, per se, but definitely more than tipsy. Enough that it’s making your vision a little bit blurry around the edges, your limbs soft and pliant, and your mind fuzzy. Enough that it’s making you feel like you could do just about anything you’d set your mind to.

You’re both giggling like morons as you sit cross-legged and face each other on the couch. He’s desperately trying to tell you a story about one of his co-workers, who, according to him, is supposed to be very weird, but he keeps on slurring his words and keeps on losing track so often that it’s making the entire thing outright incomprehensive.

“Dude-” Your voice falters as yet another set of giggles pushes its way out. Goddamn alcohol. “You have got to stop laughing and tell me whatever it is you want to tell me about this weirdo, because if you don’t, I swear to god that I’m going to fucking lose my shit.”

“Listen… Jus’ listen-” 

“I am listening, you dumbass!” you interrupt, reaching over to flick his forehead. He flinches at the action.

“No, but like,” he mumbles now, rubbing the aching spot. “I want to tell you, but at the same time… I kind of don’t.”

This instantly succeeds in sparking your interest. There’s something he’s unsure about telling you? How curious; you tell each other everything!

You lean forward slightly, resting your elbows on your knees. “How so?”

Yuuji’s eyes flicker towards the television for a quick second. The movie is still playing – it bathes half of his face with light and the other half in shadows. 

Much to your bafflement, he sheepishly bites his lip before he says, “‘Cause it’s a secret.”

“A secret? Really?” You groan as you grab the small decorative pillow just so that you can throw it his way. Despite his intoxicated state, he’s still rather quick to deflect it. It lands on the ground soundlessly.

“What was that for?” he asks now, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I dunno,” you say, bristling. “Did it maybe ever cross your mind that telling me that is only gonna make me want to hear it more?”

“I mean,” he says, scratching the back of his head and shrugging. “I guess…?”

You give him a pointed glare. “You know how much I love secrets, Yuu!”

“I know.”

“Then tell me!”

“No.”

You pout in answer, clearly unsatisfied.

Yuuji looks at you, his expression slipping into something that’s a bit more sincere and apologetic. He watches as you continue to avoid eye contact and push out your bottom lip, clearly trying to appear upset as much as you possibly can in order to get him to change his mind.

Sooner or later, it ends up working.

A person like him is so giving… Who is he to ever tell you no?

“Oh, fine,” he says, sighing with defeat. “Just pinky promise that you won’t tell anyone, okay?”

Your grin is pleasantly lazy because of the alcohol that’s still coursing your veins as you chirp, “Of course.”

He hooks your pinkies together and shakes them from side to side lightly as if it’ll help solidify the promise better.

“So, what’s the secret?” you ask when you pull your hand back and use it to support your cheek.

After a short moment of silence, he finally forces himself to blurt out, “My co-worker, he, uh… He thinks you’re hot.”

You stare at him, arching one eyebrow. “Wait, that’s it?”

Yuuji can feel his entire face tingling with heat now. The blush that steadily continues to bloom makes his skin slightly itchy, but he refrains from scratching it. “Yeah, that’s it.”

You watch him closely. 

“What?” he inquires, not liking the fact that you aren’t saying anything. The flush of red has crept down to his neck now.

“You’re lying,” you reply at long last, expression blank.

He sputters when he inhales a sharp breath, ready to defend himself. “Am not!”

You throw another pillow at him. He avoids this one, too. “Are too!”

“Stop throwing stuff at me!”

“I will, if you tell me the secret!”

“I already did!”

“The actual secret, dumbass!”

“Fine… Fine! Ugh,” he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He also said that, umm…”

You enthusiastically gesture at him to continue when his voice fades into nothing again. Curiosity is threatening to eat you alive at this point. “Yes? He said what?”

“He said-” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. “He basically told me that if you were his stepsister, that he would’ve been all over you ages ago. Or whatever.”

You stare at him once more. He stares right back.

“What?” he asks again, this time slightly more nervous. His pupils are huge and the blush is starting to make him sweat. “What is it?”

After a moment that seems like forever, you repeat, “...That’s it?”

Yuuji feels like his heart has dropped to his ass. “What d’you mean that’s it?!”

“Exactly what I said,” you say, shrugging. “Your co-worker has a ‘Oh no, stepbro, I’m stuck’ fantasy. So what?”

“I-” Yuuji’s eyebrows draw so tightly together until there’s a small v etched between them. He pauses for a long time before he says, “Don’t you think that’s weird, though?”

“Not really.” You take another small sip from your glass and place it back onto the coffee table. “I mean, have you never noticed how popular it is in porn? Lots of people are into that kind of stuff.”

“N-no…” He stutters, somehow succeeding in turning even redder in the face. “I don’t-”

“Watch porn?” you offer quickly, already rolling your eyes.

“Not porn like that,” he quips, suddenly sounding uncharacteristically snippy. 

You chuckle at the tone he uses, attempting to tame the upward curl of your lips. Things are getting interesting and dirty – something you don’t get to encounter a lot whenever it comes to golden boy over here. “Well, what kind of porn do you watch, then?”

Oh, that is very bold. If it weren’t for the liquid courage, you doubt you’d dare ask the question. But it’s out in the open now.

Hanging in the tense air that’s between you two. Waiting. Preying.

“Not the stepsister kind,” he says in a low mutter, surprising you that he even chose to answer. “I’m not into that.”

You can’t help but let the smile show now. “How can you know if you’ve never seen it?”

Yuuji gawks before letting out a nervous laugh. “...What?”

“I said,” you repeat, leaning ever so slightly closer. Enough to make him feel on edge, but not enough to scare him away. “How can you know that you’re not into it-” There’s another pause, another closing of distance. His freckles are visible now. “If you’ve never seen it? Hmm?”

“I just-” He tenses up when your knee bumps into his. The short moment of contact is electrifying for some reason; it jumpstarts his heart into a far quicker rhythm. “I just, uh, do.”

You look him directly in his sweet honey eyes. “Yeah?”

And he immediately rushes to break eye contact. “Yeah.”

“You know,” you trail off innocently, patting his knee this time instead of ‘accidentally’ bumping it. Unlike before, though, your hand remains on his leg. “For someone who swears up and down to not be into it… You really don’t sound so sure about it to me.”

“Well, I am,” he protests in a heartbeat, however the bite that’s supposed to be in the statement isn’t quite there. 

The reason behind it might be because he’s quite tipsy and can’t bring himself to be firm with you. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because he’s staring at his lap when he says it; right at the spot where you’re still touching him.

Your hand feels so warm as it sits on his thigh. And pleasant. 

He doesn’t exactly… want it to go away.

You watch as he huffs in defeat and shakes his head with evident frustration the thought must have evoked. It causes a giggle to bubble up your throat from how entertained you are. You don’t even try to stop it this time.

He could tell you off, call you names, push you away, whatever… But he doesn’t. 

No, he’s just too good of a big brother.

So you allow the flat of your palms to rest on both of his knees now. Still careful, though not nearly as much as before. Meanwhile, your own knees dig into the softness of the couch as you readjust your weight forward so that you can lift yourself just enough to be eye level with him.

Guilty anticipation pools inside his gut and turns him frazzled when you use the momentum to invade his personal space even further. All of a sudden, you find yourself nose to nose with your cutesy stepbrother. Chest to chest. So close that he can feel the heat of your breath on his lips and smell the fading scent of your perfume mixing with thin layers of sweat and sunscreen. 

“Prove it, then,” you say. Your voice could barely be considered above a whisper but the silence that follows after it is so loud.

Yuuji gulps from how unnerving this entire situation has become. Gulps. “Prove… Prove what?”

“Prove that you’re not into it.”

Thump, thump, thump! His heart is going wild. “How?”

“Watch it with me.” You move your hands upwards ever so slightly as you speak the words, but it’s not long before you’re sliding them all the way up to his thighs. 

They’re strong, his legs, and the muscles in them flex and harden underneath your touch, making the lines of his gorgeous, so profoundly male-like physique all the more defined. The hairs there are lighter in colour and they’re silky smooth. They tickle the tips of your fingers when you finally let them settle at the very edge of his gym shorts. 

Digging your nails into his skin just enough to make him jump a little, you add, “Please?”

God, you’re so drunk and… something else. Your pupils are huge; so big that Yuuji swears he can see himself in them, and the laugh you let out a moment later is girlish and kind of breathless. 

And he, well, he just looks so goddamn confused in response to it. Like a little puppy that’s been caught doing something naughty and bad. Big, round eyes, twitchy upper lip and everything.

“I, umm… I dunno,” he chokes out finally. He feels like coughing so that he can clear his throat, but he somehow manages to stifle the annoying sensation. “I just… I’m not so sure about that-”

“Pleeease, Yuuji,” you repeat, pushing, pushing, pushing. You even start pouting right at him as a means to get him to budge. “I wanna!”

Fuck.

The whine that’s appeared in your voice now makes his cock involuntarily twitch. What the actual fuck, his dick is responding to you – his baby sister. Little by little, blood is rushing south; right below his waistline until he can feel warmth slowly taking over every inch of his lower half. He tries to make it stop, to put an end to it, to slow it down at the very least, but his efforts prove to be completely useless.

His throat feels scratchy and dry now from not allowing himself to cough, and his skin feels too tight on his face. It makes him rasp as he says, “You, uh, you wanna?”

“Mhmm,” you purr in a mere instant, squeezing his thighs again just the tiniest bit. Goddammit, since when did those parts start feeling so fucking sensitive? “Wanna… wanna see you start sweating a little when you realize that your dick is getting hard over dirty shit like stepcest, you know? Wanna prove you wrong.”

A second twitch, a second rush of blood. Yuuji’s stomach spins and tightens with anxiety. His nerves go haywire. With each passing second, he can feel his cock getting heavier in his shorts. Can feel pre-cum turning the front of his underwear more and more sticky. Can feel his mind going dizzy with quick-paced lust.

You’re just so goddamn close. Staring right at him, with your tits almost on full display in that tiny thing you call a shirt, and with that infuriating, shit-eating smirk plastered on your lips. Kneeling right between his legs, talking about stepbrothers fucking stepsisters, allowing your breaths to intermingle as if it’s no big deal.

But that’s not all. Besides being too close for comfort, he’s also pretty sure that you’re quietly hinting at the possibility of something happening tonight, like letting him stuff your pussy with his cock. Hell, forget stuffing – even just seeing it would be nice. 

Not that he’s ever thought about laying eyes on his sister’s cunt, much less filling it, but now that this entire thing is unfolding in real time, before his very eyes, and he swears that he can feel the tips of your fingers subtly brushing against the ridge of his hard-on over his clothes… He doesn’t feel like refusing the idea necessarily, if it were to actually happen.

Fuuuck!

“It-it won’t,” Yuuji stammers in one last attempt at keeping his sense of morality, however all he does is end up fumbling over his own damn self like some pathetic loser. He’s so red in the face, it’s obvious now. “I, ah, I already told you-”

His sentence gets interrupted by a sudden kiss that you press right onto his still half-open mouth. 

You don’t know what exactly it is that compels you to do it, but here you are. Kissing your big brother. Latching yourself to him. Offering him things you shouldn’t.

Oh, here you are, all right.

The kiss itself is clumsy, rash, idiotic. Your teeth clash as you hurry forward to wrap your arms around his neck, and there’s a small, muffled noise – that terribly sounds like a squeal of excitement – escaping your lips when his big hands find your waist and he yanks you forward until you’re fully seated on his lap.

One second ago you were merely looking at each other, tip-toeing the line but never quite overstepping it, and now you’re grinding against one another like animals in heat, tangling tongues and tasting each other’s spit. Everything happens so fast and it’s all based on pure instinct and executed with zero thinking, because if it happened any other way, you’d surely regret it.

He tastes like pineapple and the lousy chewing gum that he bought back at the corner store earlier in the afternoon but spat out pretty soon after. You shouldn’t find the odd combination of flavours that good, you know this, but right now the inside of his mouth tastes like sweet, sweet heaven.

And possible release.

“Fuck, Yuu,” you pant between messy kisses, running your fingers along his undercut. “You’re so hard, look… Proves me right, mm?”

Yuuji wants to tell you to shut up, to stop saying things like that, to stop making him feel both so guilty and turned on at the same time because it’s complicated and he doesn’t fucking know what to make of it.

But all he ends up saying instead is, “Yeah...”

Because, as always, he’s simply too good of a big brother. Too good to tell you no.

Especially when you’re right.

And even if your big brother’s cock is hiding underneath several layers of clothing, you can still feel it pressing firmly between your legs now. Thick and heavy and in urgent need of some tender affection; a little sisterly love, if you will. It’s making you grow more and more expectant of what’s to come. There’s no space for shame left.

His size seems promising – at least judging by the feel of it. Each time you push your weight against him, circling your hips a little, he responds by pushing you down even further with the help of his hands on your hips; spreading your folds slightly apart and allowing the seam of your shorts to dig straight into your clit.

Your breathing grows laboured because of it. Slowly but surely, you’re becoming a hot mess of mm’s and ahh’s. And Yuuji, poor, sweet Yuuji, is nowhere near to being any better after he’s forced to hear all of it.

He’s sweating like crazy. Is throbbing between his legs. Is trying to tame his pulse but it just keeps on hammering and ringing inside his ears. The blush is making his entire face itch all over again and his clothes feel too tight on his body. What else is there?

Oh, even his heart feels like it’s jammed itself inside his throat when he pulls back just enough to break the string of saliva that’s bridging the narrow space between your mouths and asks, “You sure you wanna do this?”

“Just fuck me already, god,” you hiss in response. You’re so sexually frustrated that it’s making you pissy.

Neither of you has planned this nor expected this to happen, but you’ve both been feeling lonely, terribly single; are yearning to be touched. It’s been a while for the two of you, shit happens and people get too busy to enjoy the simpler pleasures in life, and you both consider the other to be attractive, so… why not?

Why not? Maybe because this entire thing could, quite possibly, be a disaster in the making.

Still, it doesn’t feel like a disaster when Yuuji’s hands wrap around your sides and slam you down on the couch. Doesn’t feel like a bad thing when he blindly hooks his fingers to the waistband of your shorts and you bring your legs closer to your chest and lift your hips a little so that he can tug them off easier.

Either he’s too impatient to wait or he did it by complete accident, but he manages to pull down your panties right along with your shorts. They’re both left dangling from your left ankle now, hanging uselessly and completely forgotten because he’s too busy trying to push himself inside you.

His back is hunched and his rosy lips are parted as he sucks in and exhales sharp breaths above you. They fan your forehead, cooling the sweat that’s gathered there, only causing you to shiver. 

You press your foreheads together when you lift yourself slightly with the help of your elbows so that you can reach between you, tug his waistband low just enough to expose him and guide him inside you. He grits his teeth, baring them like a threatened animal as soon as your fingers curl around the base of his cock, mindlessly stroking the impressive length, spreading the pre-cum that’s gathered at the tip without any sense of patience.

Neither of you looks into each other’s eyes; all of your attention is aimed at the spot where you almost connect. After all, his fat cockhead is bumping against your sticky pussy now, inconsistently gliding up and down and smearing arousal. Every time he teases your entrance, your breath hitches in the back of your throat and you cling onto him a little harder.

“Yuujiii,” you whine, teeth sinking into your bottom lip so harshly that you fear you might have drawn blood. He almost doesn’t recognize the sound of your voice. “What’re you waiting for?! Put it iiin!”

“Yeah… Y-yeah, okay,” he bites out, trying to stop the persistent flutter of a muscle in his cheek. His arms feel like giving in but the muscles in his biceps still flex and shudder with anxiety and anticipation when he finally presses in.

His cockhead pushes past the initial ring of muscle pretty effortlessly from how wet you’ve gotten from mere kissing and a little bit of grinding. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s making you so pliant and eager, but it’s easy to open your legs wider so that you can let in even more of him.

Yuuji feels dizzy; like the entire world is spinning. You’re underneath him, panting so loudly and you’re so warm inside, so accepting, so wet. Your pussy hugs him just right, walls squeezing around his girth, sucking him in further. The sensation makes him drop his entire weight right on top of your writhing body the second he allows himself to slowly rock into you and sink balls deep.

He hides his face into the crook of your neck as he begins to lazily thrust inside you, doing whatever feels best because he can’t possibly bring himself to form thoughts right now. In and out, the strokes are long, slow and deep. So deep, in fact, that they make you wince each time he hits the sweet spot that’s hiding inside.

You’ve ended up so close yet again; with your limbs intertwined and your bodies pressed tightly together that your shirt is crinkling between you. It rides up with the movement of his hips slamming against your own, exposing your stomach, making you stick to each other from how sweaty you’ve gotten.

“Nngh… You feel… s’good,” he grits out, quiet moaning already lacing his voice. His breathing has gotten so heavy that it’s creating moisture on the small patch of skin on your neck that he’s got his mouth pressed against. “Won’t last long… Ca-ah… Can’t.”

He sounds so fucking drunk as he continues to say pure nonsense into the side of your throat and keeps on pressing you into the softness of the couch. Not only on alcohol, but also on your pussy it seems. 

It makes him practically start pounding into you now. Abusing your tight little hole. He slips one arm underneath you and pulls you even closer so that he can steady himself a little bit, and wetness squelches between you as a result. Skin slaps against skin, breaths intermingle. His fingers tangle into your hair crudely – it hurts when he tugs at the roots even if you’re well aware that he doesn’t mean to.

He’s so big above you. So strong. So stupidly male. And he’s also gotten lost in the moment. For a second it makes you scared of him a little bit even if he’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, a real proper marshmallow. And it doesn’t help that his cock is as big as the rest of him is; stretching you so deliciously, splitting you wide open, causing tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes even if the booze that’s coursing your veins is supposed to numb you out to a size like that.

“Yuuji, wa- fuck, wait…!” You cross your ankles at his waist in an attempt to slow him down, heels panically digging into his back dimples and toes curling. 

“N-no, I can’t, please… Don’t make me wait, please, please, please, c’mon,” he babbles, still not slowing down, not stopping. His eyes are half-closed and they show concern, but they’re also dark and foggy when he lifts his head just enough to look at you. “Just a lil’ more, yeah…? Yeah? Just a lil’... Ugh, keep still just a bit longer- I’m almost there. So… mmh… close.”

You try to fight against him, tugging on his hair and sinking your nails into his back, but all he does is endure it, not really caring much about your thrashing and turning. He’s got you caged underneath him, crying out his name, clawing raw red lines into his broad back. It’s all drunken breeding instinct and no brain as he uses your body like a toy, and the realization that you can do nothing but take it is terrifying as much as it is thrilling.

His pounding has turned borderline ruthless by now and in his urgency to cum, he’s pushed himself so deep inside you that you’re pretty sure he’s fucked his way straight into your goddamn womb. In his weak attempt to make you last until the end, he’s even started to messily rub irregular circles into your clit.

It makes a thin line of drool dribble down the corner of your mouth from how fucked out you’ve become in a mere fifteen minutes. The overstimulation is probably completely accidental, but it achieves the same result just the same. He outright forces the climax out of your body, and the second he feels you squeeze around him, abused pussy trying to milk him dry, he’s giving in, not resisting anymore, shooting his load inside you in an instant.

The groan he lets out is almost like a growl. He arches his back again, balls tightening, grip almost turning iron-like. You can feel the warmth of his cum as it fills you in steady waves of pleasure. 

You both stay still for a long while after that, trying to gather your senses, attempting to calm down your trembling. His cum is warm and sticky; tacky between your thighs. It starts to drip out of your hole by the time his cock softens enough to create more space. 

There’s just so much of it. A fuckload.

And he’s still breathing so hard. You both are.

“I’m so sorry… Fuck, I-” he rasps out. His mouth is so dry that he feels like he could chug an entire jug of water, but he pushes that need away for now in order to get a good look at you instead. “I just- I-”

Yuuji stops mid-sentence when he sees you push two of your fingers between your legs before bringing them up in front of your face again. He watches, eyelids heavy, as you spread them then, toying with the glimmery, cloudy white substance that’s gathered there until you gently push them inside your mouth, licking his release right off of your fingertips.

His jaw almost hits the floor. He’s so baffled by what he’s just seen that he barely registers the fact that his cock is trying to get hard again, throbbing against his thigh.

“What?” is all you say in response to the incredulous look that sits on his face now. Your voice is muffled from the way you keep your mouth stuffed full.

“I licked it so it’s mine.”

[illmissthecrowning]

no i need the consensus song to be making regular occurrences. Percy starting to sing it when Annabeth is butting heads with Tyson but it just makes everything worse because Grover’s in danger. Grover trying to sing it during Titan’s Curse but getting frosted out by the Hunters. Grover looking around during Battle of Labyrinth, realizing that 3 out of the other five people on this quest have a crush on Percy and realizing no consensus song can fix this. Percy starting to sing it during Son of Neptune and having no idea where that came from. Annabeth starting to sing it during a tense moment with Jason and Percy and it completely diffuses the situation because now Percy and Annabeth have to teach it to everyone else and that’s how they all become a team (or better yet Coach Hedge asking what they have to say for themselves about the overnight incident and Percy and Annabeth just start singing and everyone thinks they’re absolute weirdos.) Percy and Annabeth singing it in Tartarus to keep themselves going. The trio singing during Chalice of the Gods because everything’s changed yet nothings changed

[zph]

he can’t sleep without you. | roommate!scara x gn!reader.

in which you both are roommates (gasp). and he cannot seem to have a good’s night rest without your warmth.

notes: clingy scara!!, profanity, mutual pining, one mention of innuendo but still sfw, scara is sort of like a cat that waits outside of the bathroom door, not proofread

roommate!scara small hcs: here | masterlist

For someone so adamant about getting all his 8 hours of sleep, he sure as hell was too willing to lose it so easily.

With one hand begrudgingly wiping away the drowsiness from his eyes, he clenches the blanket closer in the other, shivering as the breeze hits his puffed cheeks and loose top that he carelessly slipped into the night before.

Scaramouche felt the heaviness weighing on his movement; his hair was no doubt disheveled, and his dark circles were already starting to pull underneath his bottom eyelids. Miserably, he tried to run his fingers through the strands, only to struggle when he was met with a particular knot...

In other words, he felt like complete shit.

…

Just where are you right now?

Squinting at the faint light peering through the corridor, he hears nothing but the hum of the air conditioner and the shuffling of footsteps behind the bathroom door.

Tossing his legs over the edge of the mattress, he briefly weighed his options:

Either pass out on the cold, hard ground

Watch the lost hours take a toll on his plummeting mood as he waits for you.

Neither which seemed possible nor pleasant to him.

God, are those his only alternatives? He drags a hand down his face, slipping on some fuzzy cat sandals (a gift, courtesy of you after convincing him that it was well worth the price only to see him lap around rocking cute merch, much to your amusement).

And his mind reels back at the thought of you.

…

A normal and sane person wouldn’t limp his way out of the bedroom; a normal and sane person wouldn’t take the time dragging his dwindling patience and weary feet towards a conveniently placed bathroom door; a normal and sane person would instead, hog the blankets and fall back to sleep...

…

Despite this, Scaramouche found himself at the mercy of the blazing light at the aforementioned conveniently placed bathroom door.

He scoffs. ‘A normal and sane person.’

With his blanket draped across the wooden tiled floor, his hand dug out from under the duvet before landing swift knocks on the wood.

1 knock.

Then 2.

Then finally, 3.

Scaramouche clenches the makeshift coat closer, shivering as he shoots glares at the door.

“Are you done?” Scaramouche grumbled before plummeting his head onto the door itself; a sense of exasperation flowing through him and by god, he hoped you could sense his desperation too. “Come back to bed, it is too cold.” His sense of shame would come back in the morning once he was more lucid. But right now, he just wanted to sleep.

And unfortunately, he also wanted you.

—

It started as a simple movie night: hiding within the cozy sheet of a small blanket, huddling closer for warmth, pressing up so close against each other. Even with the screen blaring on his face, the clear exhaustion from a movie marathon, he still found comfort in the way your fingers gently roamed and traced down his back then up to brush the hair sticking out from his neck. While his head rested comfortably at your shoulder, humming slightly to the background static.

This was becoming a regular occurrence:

You suggest a movie after watching him fumble around with his work, eyes nearly drooping after painstakingly looking at a computer all day, with coffee prepared in those branded ‘Best Employe of the Year’ mugs his company loves parade around. With one quick glance at his sad form, you were already coaxing him onto the couch for ‘just a few minutes’ until suddenly, he was cozied in pajamas and the blanket wrapped around him like some sort of makeshift hostage situation.

More and more, until he finds himself cuddling close to your form, his arms wrapped under the fabric of your waist, and your leg lifted onto his hip.

More and more, until he is the one to instead force you out of your chair and into watching a horror movie with him, sliding snacks he knows you’ll indulge in when he doesn’t see.

More and more, until he feels you wrap the blanket around him the next day, gently whispering a quick ‘good morning’ before quickly making a beeline to the bathroom in order to prepare for work.

But in your absence, his hand reaches out after you, eyes flat on the door: a fleeting acknowledgment and the longing to get you back into his arms.

It was maddening.

..So, this was no different.

Another excuse to press close against each other; the cold chill from that busted heater leaving you to fend for yourself with the only pair of a heated blanket until the next morning—bringing you to offer another movie.

This time, childhood classics.

“You know, we should sleep together,” you suddenly say, the rumbling from your chest awakening him.

He pauses, his head lifting from his spot. “Excuse me?”

“Like bed-sharing. Cuddling. Horizontally lying on a mattress. Together. Ever heard of the concept?” you chuckled. “What were you thinking about?”

He makes a face. “Absolutely nothing.” And he turns on his side, his back to your chest, away from your stifling laughter. “…Why are you even asking in the first place?” comes out after a moment.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the way you stretched your arms out to release some of the tension from your body, then leaned your head on his shoulder. “We’ve been doing this for a while, yeah? I don’t know, heater is still kinda busted and I kinda don’t want to be alone right now.”

There was an extended pause in his reply.

Truthfully, there were little reasons to hate the arrangement and even fewer reasons to refuse it. In fact, with the way your chin comfortably sits on his skin, his mind was reeling with warmth despite the bitter cold biting his skin.

“No worries, the deal is still on the table so don’t feel pressured,” you smile up at him, taking his silence as a refusal. “I can go out to get-“

Then he cuts you off, huffing with amusement. “Sure, do what you want.”

And he leaves it at that, already scooting closer to your chest and comfortably making room in your arms.

But soon, he feels you gently intertwine your hands together, pulling the back of his to your lips. With your eyes glinting with fondness, you breathe in. “Thanks.” and before he can react, you were already pressing your face into the curve of his neck, contentment rolling off on you in waves.

…You were maddening.

—

For a moment, there was no other sound except the hum of the air conditioner and the shuffling of footsteps behind the bathroom door. Scaramouche sighs.

From being habitually conditioned into only sleeping by your side, he finds that the aftermath led up to whatever state he is in right now.

3:12 am. He checks once more. You were taking long. He embraces the cool chill, the blanket already half shallowing his body at this point, spilling to the bottom like some coat.

He probably looks ridiculous standing in front of the bathroom, tapping his foot, impatiently waiting for your return.

Like a cat, he could hear you say.

And as if you heard his increasingly humbling pleas, before long, the door peers open, shedding light on his poor eyes and through his rather tense squinting. Barely stepping foot into the room, you jump at the sight of your roommate—who, he would have guessed from your dumbfounded gasp and prolonged stare, you weren’t expecting to be up at this hour.

“…How long were you standing there?”

He only regarded you with the tilt of his head, his eyes narrowed at your form. “Long enough.” he murmured.

With your eyes doused with concern, he watched as you took one step towards him, reaching out to tug his hand back into your room. “Sorry, had to use the bathroom.” That was until you seemed to catch the odd blush on his face, dimmed light exposing his visage. He could almost sense your glee the moment you decide you weren’t going to pity his poor self. “Did you miss me by chance?”

Firmly, he quickly tugs you closer, landing his head on your shoulder and pointedly ignoring your comment. “Just shit faster, I need to sleep.”

Scaramouche didn’t comment on how you sucked in a harsh breath, lips parting as he hugged you tighter. Buried into your neck, he fought the smile that crept up on his face and the raging heat coaling in his cheeks. He heard a soft laugh echo into the air before a lightweight softly hit his head, humming a gentle: “Missed you too.”

He wasn’t sure if it was pounding in his ears or the thumping of your heartbeat, but as your warmth wrapped around his cool body, his composure ever so slightly weakened and lulled into a quiet hum. Gathering all his aches in a single embrace, he can’t help but desperately tug onto your shirt, demanding a resemblance of dignity — only for it to fail terribly as he leaned in closer, his body already weak to the kisses you press against his temples.

And that was enough for him.

(That was enough for his mind to come to a rest.)

So yes, you were revolting in every sense of the word. And yet if he were to choose, Scaramouche would willingly suck up his pride than ever pull away from your warm embrace.

[a-high-femme]

I just had a hysterical laughing fit for 10+ minutes with only brief periods of calming down/breathing normally and my entire body hurts

TO CLARIFY this was a situation where I was laughing/shrieking uncontrollably while crying and trying my best to catch my breath, this used to happen all the time but I’ve been better ughhhhh

[tinkerbellknockoff]

jinx's housewife // jinx x fem!reader

jinx's housewife // jinx x fem!reader

jinx bagged a baddie who takes care of her at home.

-- a/n: did this on a bored whim. enjoy!

Jinx knew you had to be hers after she had walked into a small cafe in the depths of zaun and was greeted with your soft smile and greeting

Jinx began to regularly visit the cafe, even after silco had begun to notice her strange absences and chastised her for possibly getting distracted, her waving him off with a blink of an eye and telling him to “not be so worried about it”

Jinx gradually increased her flirting efforts with each visit, successfully catching you during every one of your shifts (she had memorized your schedule)

Outsiders could have possibly taken her flirting for strange, but you were oddly into it so that didn’t matter! 

It took her a while, but eventually, she had finally bagged you (which she was ecstatic about, leaping into your arms), and after a year of dating, you had moved into her workshop

Some events started happening near the area of your cafe, Jinx becoming gradually worried at the notice of shimmer activity in the area, 

“Princess, are you sure you’re going to work? I can’t always protect ya, ya know?”

You shrugged it off. You’ve seen worse. 

You quit after you actually did in fact see worse. A man on shimmer had broken into your cafe, robbing you while you were at the cashier, and Jinx had forced you to quit the second she heard about it

So, you began moving your baking abilities to Jinx’s workshop, beginning to make it a regular pattern for you to make goods for her

“Princess, is this for me?” She’d come up behind you, wrapping her slender arms around your face and placing her head on your shoulder, looking down at the desserts you were preparing.

“Who else, Bluey?” You giggle in response, turning your head to press a quick kiss to her cheek, causing a giant grin to spread on her face, “We need to put some meat on your bones.” 

Jinx turns her head to meet your gaze, her nose bumping with yours as the smile never leaves her face, “Oh, yeah? You spoil me..”

She would distract you momentarily by sealing your lips with hers, still grinning into the kiss but you nudge her away with your shoulder, telling her to stop distracting you before the food got cold. She would simply giggle at your complaints before placing one last, sloppy kiss on your cheek before finally letting you go to work on some projects. 

Alongside beginning to bake, you had begun to start taking care of her workshop in general. Since living there you two always made an effort to keep the area as clean as possible, but it wasn’t a daily occurrence or anything

You began cleaning areas on the daily, and Jinx had started taking notice. She began to be more careful about cleaning up after herself, not wanting to purposefully increase your workload (even if you were doing it willingly) but also didn’t want you to think she was a slob and stop liking her

She’d also get upset if you stayed cleaning too late

“Babyyyyy,” Jinx groaned, flopped onto her makeshift bed, seeing you across the room assorting a few of trinkets that you both had gathered that you had displayed on the shelf, “you don’t have to do that right now!”

You turned around to meet her gaze after finishing placing down the last one, pouting at her before starting towards the bed, plopping down by her side, “You’re so impatient, you know that?”

“You basically hate me,” Jinx jokingly whined, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you into a tight hug, bringing you flush against her chest as she looked to meet your gaze, pouting back at you. A laugh slipped from your lips,

“You know that’s not true,” you reach your finger out to lightly pinch at Jinx’s bottom lip, pulling it out for a quick second before saying, “ya know I could never hate you.”

Jinx’s pout dissipated in a matter of seconds when your words hit her ears, a laugh coming out of her with her pink eyes swirling with entertainment, “Jeez, princess, can’t take a joke?”

“Not bad ones,” you retorted, and Jinx huffed for a moment. Choosing not to respond, Jinx leaned down and locked her lips with yours, kissing your attitude away. 

[buckyalpine]

Bucky’s gift from you

Imagine Bucky receiving a birthday gift from you. His first birthday after years of not even remembering what day it was. Nothing extravagant; a small dinner and a chocolate cake with presents after. You got him a copy of his favorite book. Tea that helped him relax. Sitting on top of the gift bag was a soft, light brown teddy bear with the softest fur imaginable.

You wondered if the bear was a good choice to add, starting to feel a little embarrassed when you saw him inspecting it but Bucky thanked you for the gift with a polite smile nonetheless.

From the time you met Bucky, you knew he was a man of few words. He got along well with you and while you wanted to deny it, you were harboring a massive crush on the super soldier. The last thing you wanted to do was mess things up with his gift but there wasn't much you could do now.

What you didn't know was Bucky adored the bear with his entire being. It reminded him of the first and only bear he had, the one his mama got for him before he was even born. It was his favorite thing to sleep with, his protector to keep the nightmares away. He held the soft stuffy in his hands, placing it carefully beside his pillow, blushing when he could smell the soft scent of your perfume lingering on the fur. He got absolutely tongue tied around you, mustering a thank you without stuttering.

Bucky is well aware the bear is just stuffing and material sewn together but that doesn't stop him from occasionally hugging it tightly to his chest when he can't sleep. It starts to become a regular occurrence to the point where he doesn't fall asleep as easily without it.

He starts to take it with him everywhere, stuffing it into his duffle bag for safe keeping but of course he never actually takes it out. It stays perfectly safe, tucked between the book you got him and a few tea bags. He just likes to know its there.

The teddy bear remains a secret until a particularly taxing mission. He's exhausted, as is the entire team going days without rest, on the run the entire time. Once he boards the jet, he wants to collapse and sleep for the entire week but he just can't. He tried to close his eyes but sleep won't come.

He knows why.

He eyes his bag, now too sleep deprived to care about what anyone else thought.

Sam and Steve eyed a sleepy Bucky dragging himself off to the corner of the jet, pulling something out of his bag before curling up and falling right asleep almost instantly.

"The hell, he never falls asleep that quick" Steve cocked an eyebrow, hearing his best friend softly snoring peacefully.

"What did he grab from his bag" Sam whispered, both men peering over to get a better look, eyes growing wide when they saw what Bucky was holding.

His face was practically smushed into the bear, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, not a single sign of stress as he relaxed, holding onto his bear. He dreamt of you, asking you out on a first date, hoping you'd say yes to a second and maybe a third. He dreamt of getting to cuddle you when he slept instead, cheeks reddening in his sleep when he thought of how you'd feel wrapped in his arms.

"We're not letting him live this down, are we" Steve whispered while Sam reached for this phone, snapping at least 100 photos.

"Not a chance"

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you can't sleep

Requested? No!

Genre: Comfort

A/N: This is entirely self-indulgent because I woke up at 3:45am and couldn’t go back to sleep. For this reason, please forgive any typos or mistakes.

Seungcheol

Deeply disturbed when he finds that you are not next to him in bed. Gives it a few minutes, thinking you might have just gotten up to go to the bathroom or get some water, but when the time ticks by, he gets up to find you on the couch, watching TV. “Baby, what are you doing up?” He’ll ask concerned, glancing at the clock. When you say you woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, he’s plopping onto the couch with you, making you curl into him. You feel bad because he needs his sleep, but he’ll brush you off, saying he’ll stay up with you any night. You do eventually doze off in his warmth while reruns of some sitcom play on the TV and he’ll carefully carry you back to bed.

Jeonghan

He feels you tossing and turning for what feels like hours. He’s tired and maybe even a little bit irritable when he touches your back, asking why you’re still up. He immediately feels bad for his irritability when you say you’re sorry, but that you had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. He’s tugging you into his side, patting your head in a ‘there, there’ sort of motion, asking you to tell him all about it. It becomes clear that you’re not going back to sleep anytime soon, but that’s okay, because he’ll just lie there next to you and talk, no matter how drowsy he is. 

Joshua

Seems to have a sixth sense about when you get out of bed. You’ve barely got your slippers on before he’s asking where you’re going. When you say you just can’t sleep, he looks at the time, which is somewhere around 4am. He shrugs, getting out of bed as well, despite your insistence that he needs his sleep. He starts the coffee pot and gets a skillet out to make breakfast and you’re resigned to the fact that you both are now up for the day. He doesn’t have any complaints, not even when you both are dozing on the couch by 2pm. 

Jun

When he realizes that you never actually got to sleep and are just laying in bed scrolling at nearly 1am, Jun simply takes the phone out of your hands and puts it back on the charger. “Play a game with me. Eye spy with my little eye…” You have to laugh because, well, it’s totally dark in the room now. But you play along because everything in your bedroom is familiar to you, even in the dark. You’re kind of touched at how aware of the little things in your room he is, even if he doesn’t live here (yet). Like he knows that you left a blue sweatshirt on the back of your vanity chair, or that there is little green detailing on your jewelry box. You doze off by about the tenth round and Jun keeps quiet after that. 

Hoshi

He comes home late from practice and finds that you’re still awake, tossing and turning, and he’s concerned. When you say you just haven’t been able to settle down, he thinks for a split second and says, “Well, I was about to shower. Come with me, maybe the warmth will help.” There’s absolutely nothing suggestive about the idea. He even washes your hair for you, letting you relax as he scratches your scalp for way longer than was probably necessary. You’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow. Now showering before bed, especially with him, is a regular occurrence to wind down. 

Wonwoo

When he rolls over in the middle of the night to find that your beside lamp is still on and you’re still reading, he glances at the clock and then raises an eyebrow. “Must be a good book,” he mumbles. When you hum and tell him that it’s actually not, but you just can’t sleep, he’s sitting up next to you, leaning against the headboard. “Just how bad could it be?” He doesn’t acknowledge the ‘can’t sleep’ comment out loud, plucking the book from you and reading to you. He has to admit, the book does kind of suck, but he’s relieved to see that you’ve dozed off to the sound of his voice within a couple chapters. 

Woozi

He knows your sleeping habits and also notices some of the things that don’t help it. But he’s hesitant to correct you, so he tries correcting these bad habits by correcting them in himself. Say you’re hanging out late with him while he works. The first thing he’ll do is turn down the caffeine at a certain point, saying he wants to actually get some sleep tonight. The second thing is that he’ll subtly rush to wrap things up quickly for the night so both of you can get home at a decent time. This technique won’t work every night because sometimes you don’t follow his lead or it’ll just be an exceptionally late night for him, but both of you tend to get better sleep when you keep a routine and cut the caffeine. 

DK

Didn’t you see this coming? The moment you say you can’t sleep, he’s serenading you. Sometimes it’s sweet and soft with the intent of soothing you, and sometimes it’s goofy and animated with the intent on making you lighten up when you’re particularly frustrated by your bad sleeping habits. Sometimes you scold him to rest his voice, but he Will. Not. Be. Stopped. He’ll sing entire albums for you until you’re sleepy again, so don’t test him. 

Mingyu

Prepare to be cocooned the moment you say you can’t sleep. He’s so sweet and he also doesn’t work out for no reason. He’ll literally wrap you in the blanket and hold you tight against his chest, talking sweetly about what might be bothering you. Even if nothing in particular is bothering you and you just can’t sleep, that’s fine too. He’ll stroke your hair and keep you warm until you’re ready to sleep. 

Minghao

He absolutely thinks it’s stress. He notices the pattern - when you have a lot going on a work or in your family life, you’re extremely restless. Like Woozi, he might make it seem like it’s for him when he says he wants to try out a new bedtime routine. He likes meditating and decides to do it before bed, asking you to join. Then, when you both are done, he pushes you towards the bedroom, following you with two cups of tea. It doesn’t work right away, but the longer he keeps up this little routine with you, the more he notices that your shoulders are more relaxed and you fall asleep faster. 

Seungkwan

One night, you’re exceptionally restless and he asks what’s wrong. You complain that the street lights coming through the windows and all the city noise have been bothering you lately. He lets you be for the night - if you want to toss and turn for a while, if you want to get up, if you want to cuddle, whatever is fine with him. But the next night before bed, he hands you two small boxes, one with a brand new sleep mask and one with small noise cancelling earbuds, encouraging you to try them out. These two things will constantly be replaced and upgraded as needed as long as they seem to help.

Vernon

Might be a little dead to the world when he sleeps, but if you happen to nudge him in the middle of the night saying that you can’t sleep and you seem upset by it, he’s automatically offering to take a walk, no matter how groggy he is. Throws on some clothes and splashes his face with cold water in the bathroom so he can get with the program for you. Walks for hours if you need it - talking or in total silence, headphones or no headphones, holding hands or no physical contact at all. Absolutely does not matter to him. He’ll get back to sleep when you do. 

Chan

Another one that makes it seem like it’s for him. He’s noticed your sleeping habits and how run down you seem by it, but doesn’t address it directly. Instead, he says he read an article that described how bad blue light was for sleep and he thinks he wants to try an electronic cleanse a couple hours before bed to see if it helps him. “Are you okay with that?” He’ll ask hopefully. Of course you agree, because it’s for him! He’ll resist the urge to giggle to himself when you pass out almost immediately when your head hits the pillow on the first night of this so-called electronic cleanse. He did not expect it his little plan to be successful so quickly. 

[puppym3]

Heyaa! Is it possible to request an enemies to lovers one bed trope smut with bangchan? Like maybe reader and skz go on a trip but there’s not enough rooms so they decide to pair u guys up so that y’all can make up or whatever. Little did u know that Chris has a massive crush on u and was only being insufferable because he thought he didn’t have a chance but little did he know you thought he was cute too. Maybe he pops a boner while sharing the bed and becomes embarrassed but you decide to take matters into ur own hands and dom him for treating u liek shit lol 💀

↠ friction ↺ and ⊜ fire

*+:｡.｡ bangchan x fem!reader

wc: 4.8k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, smut, enemies to lovers, one bed trope, dom!reader, servicetop!bangchan, subby!bangchan, brat!reader, one-sided pining (kind've?), they're both idiots, piv, unprotected sex (sighh), they traumatize the other members, oral (m. rec), creampie, (lmk if i missed any)

a/n: thank you so much for the suggestion anon hehe.. it was so good and i hope i served what needed to be served!! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

*+:｡.｡

Stepping out of the van after a long, winding drive, you stretched your arms above your head, relishing the cool mountain air. The cabin loomed ahead, a cozy refuge nestled in the heart of the forest, promising a weekend of relaxation and fun. You were close friends with the boys and these trips were a regular occurrence. However, there was one member you couldn't stand.

Bang Chan.

Ever since you first met, the two of you had bickered incessantly over the most trivial things. Whether it was your taste in men or the way you folded your clothes, Bang Chan always found something to nag you about. You rolled your eyes just thinking about it. How could someone be so insufferable?

It reminds you of the time you had just broken up with your ex-boyfriend after you found out he had been cheating on you the entire time, you had unknowingly been the side piece throughout your relationship. Bang Chan warned you about him the entire time, saying he wasn't good for you. And now that things had crumbled, he was in your ear about how right he was. It frustrated you.

"Hurry up! We need to check out the rooms!" Felix excitedly called out, breaking your reverie.

You grabbed your bag and followed the boys into the cabin. As they scattered to explore, you took in the rustic charm of the place. It was perfect, except for one glaring issue: you only spotted eight bedrooms.

"Hey," Minho announced, holding up a hand-drawn map of the cabin. "There are only eight beds."

"Great," you muttered under your breath.

The boys gathered around, frowning at the realization.

"Well, who wants to share?" Seungmin said, glancing around.

"I don't mind sharing," Jisung shrugged.

Everyone seemed to share a knowing glance across the room.

"How about Y/N and Chan share a room?" Minho suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You and Chan simultaneously snapped your heads toward Minho, protests ready on your lips, but the rest of the boys quickly agreed.

"Yeah, maybe you two will finally stop bickering," Jisung added, smirking.

"Fine," Chan sighed, his eyes meeting yours with a challenge.

"Fine," you echoed, refusing to back down.

"Awesome," Jeongin laughed nervously, trying to defuse the tension in the room. "We can check out the rest of the cabin tomorrow, so why don't we call it a night?"

"Yeah, I'm exhausted," Changbin agreed, calling out from his room, already laid out on his bed like a starfish.

You followed Chan to your room and set down your bags. The bedroom was spacious, but the lack of a second bed left a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Guess you're sleeping on the floor," you smirked, taking note of the single queen-sized mattress.

Chan raised an eyebrow and looked you up and down.

"Like hell, I am. You can sleep on the floor," he argued, his eyes glinting with amusement.

You let out a scoff, but before you could open your mouth, Felix appeared in the doorway.

"You're both responsible adults, you can share a bed."

You shot Felix a glare.

"Goodnight!" He quickly ducked out of the room, leaving you and Chan alone.

Chan crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face.

"Don't get any ideas, pervert," you sneered, brushing past him to get ready for bed.

"Wouldn't dream of it, darling."

The rest of the evening passed in tense silence. The two of you were cordial when brushing your teeth and washing your faces, but once you were settled under the covers, you turned away from each other, as far as you could go without falling off the bed.

Lying there, staring at the wall, you couldn't help but feel the tension in the room. It was more than just annoyance; it was a palpable electricity that seemed to spark every time you argued. You hated to admit it, but there was something about Chan that intrigued you, something that made your heart race in the most frustrating way.

And you were overly aware of how attractive he was, secretly ogling him when he would perform on stage. It annoyed you, a lot.

You shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body and it was driving you crazy. The more you tried to ignore him, the more aware you became of his presence.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. You rolled over, determined to confront him, but the words died in your throat. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, and his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

He looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, that you couldn't bring yourself to wake him. Instead, you watched him, admiring the way the moonlight illuminated his features.

You traced the line of his jaw with your eyes, trailing down to his full lips. Your heart skipped a beat as you imagined what it would be like to kiss him.

You quickly shook your head, berating yourself for even thinking such a thing. Chan was the last person you would ever want to kiss.

But the more you denied it, the more you thought about it. What if his lips were soft? What if he kissed you gently, his hands caressing your body?

The thought made your cheeks flush.

"Can you stop eye-fucking me? I'm trying to sleep."

Chan's voice snapped you out of it, and you quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks burning.

"I wasn't- I just, wanted to say something," you stammered, the defensiveness in your voice showing.

The fact that he was so cocky and attractive drove you crazy, you wanted to put him in his place then and there, you wanted to pick another fight with him, the fights you had him ignited a certain fire in you that you couldn't explain.

"What is it?"

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. What was wrong with you? You couldn't even form a coherent sentence around him.

"Just..." you scoffed, giving up when the words in your head scrambled.

"Goodnight."

With that, Chan rolled over, putting his back to you.

You huffed, annoyed at the way he dismissed you. You knew he was trying to get under your skin, and it was working. You glared at the back of his head, wishing you could slap the smug look off his face.

But even as you silently fumed, you laid in bed next to him. Unable to relax, you tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. But the bed seemed to grow smaller with each passing moment, and the space between you felt like an infinite chasm.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his mere presence setting your nerves alight. You were overly aware of his breathing, his steady inhale and exhale. And the longer you lay there, the more restless you became.

"Will you stop moving?"

His voice was barely above a whisper, but the sound made you jump.

"I can't sleep," you replied, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling.

"Try harder."

You scoffed again, turning your head to look at him, and before you could come up with something to spit back at him, your gaze lowered, and your eyes landed on the very prominent tent on the bed.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly averted your gaze, but the image was burned into your mind.

Your cheeks flushed, and your heart began to race. Chan was hard. The realization sent a jolt of excitement through your body.

Now this was an argument you could easily win, you could definitely embarrass him with this.

So why couldn't you say anything? Why was the heat in between your thighs growing undeniably unbearable?

You couldn't stop yourself from stealing another glance. Your eyes trailed down the length of his body, coming to rest on the bulge straining against his pants.

Chris turned over to face away from you. You couldn't help but smile. You knew he was embarrassed, and the thought of him being uncomfortable made you feel satisfied.

Without hesitation, you moved closer, pressing your body against his. Your chest was pressed against his back.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice in an innocent tone as if you had no idea what he was talking about.

"Don't act stupid."

You couldn't help but smirk. You could hear the embarrassment in his voice, and it only made you more confident.

"You know exactly what I'm doing," you said, your voice dropping to a whisper.

"This isn't funny."

You couldn't believe how much this was affecting him.

"You're telling me," you purred, sliding your hand down his torso.

Your fingertips brushed over the hard outline of his cock, and you felt his breath catch.

You couldn't resist, he was a brat, and now it was time for payback. You wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his pants.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and his hips jerked involuntarily. You bit your lip, trying to contain your own excitement.

"You're a fucking tease."

"Says the one with a boner," you retorted.

"I'm serious," he breathed.

"So am I," you said, tightening your grip.

The sound that escaped his lips made you shudder.

You knew that if you didn't stop now, there would be no turning back.

But you didn't care. You wanted this.

You grabbed his shoulder, pulling so he was lying on his back. His eyes were wide, his breath ragged.

Without a word, you straddled his lap, the thin fabric of your pajama shorts doing little to hide the heat between your thighs.

"You're a brat, you know that?" he groaned.

You smiled, your confidence growing by the second.

"Maybe, but I think you like it."

You rolled your hips, and his cock twitched beneath you.

"Fuck," he cursed. You couldn't help but smirk. He was clearly losing his composure.

"Don't get too cocky," he said, grabbing your hips and grinding up into you.

Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how turned on you were.

"That's funny, coming from you," you managed to say, rocking your hips against him.

He was rock hard beneath you, and the friction was sending waves of pleasure through your body.

The outline of his cock through his pants was aligned perfectly with your cunt, gently brushing against your clit through each movement.

It was agonizing.

You leaned forward, your lips grazing his ear.

"Is this what you want? Then beg me."

You could feel his resolve breaking, and the satisfaction was almost overwhelming.

"Please," he choked out, the shyness poking through his cocky demeanor felt rewarding.

"I'm not sure I heard you."

You rocked your hips again, the friction making your head spin.

"Fuck, please" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could tell he was embarrassed, but you didn't care. This was too good to stop now.

"You're a pervert," you whispered, tugging at the waistband of his pants. "Getting hard from sharing a bed with a girl?"

He couldn't meet your eyes, his face flushed red.

"It... it's not like that..." he murmured, but the tent in his pants told a different story.

You slipped your hand inside his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his length.

He gasped, his eyes widening.

"You-" he breathed.

"Tell me what it's like then," you teased, stroking him slowly.

His jaw was clenched, and he looked like he was struggling to form words.

"I'm waiting."

"It's because- fuck, it's because of you."

His response caught you off guard, and your heart skipped a beat.

"What?"

You couldn't hide the surprise in your voice, and the way it caused you to clench around nothing.

"It's you," he breathed, his gaze finally meeting yours.

You could see the desire in his eyes, and it took your breath away.

"But don't we hate each other?" you protested, unable to hide the hint of confusion in your voice, feeling like maybe you lost the plot somewhere along the way.

"I don't hate you," he admitted. "I just- I thought I did. But it was only because I couldn't handle the fact that I liked you so much."

You couldn't believe your ears. Chris liked you? It made your heart flutter, a million fantasies running through your head in a second. Why did this excite me so much? Why did I like hearing those words coming out of his mouth?

"You like me?" you echoed, unable to hide the disbelief in your voice.

"God, you're dense," he groaned, his frustration evident.

Before you could respond, he sat up and pulled you in, his lips were on yours, and his hands were gripping your hips.

You melted into the kiss, the taste of his lips and the warmth of his skin setting your nerves on fire.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, and you moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth.

His kiss was fervent, lips melding with yours in a way that made your mind go blank. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as he pulled you closer, pressing you against him.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his heart pounding in time with yours. The kiss deepened, tongues dancing in a rhythm that felt both urgent and unrelenting. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of mint toothpaste and something uniquely Chris.

His hands roamed over your body, caressing your back before settling on your hips, guiding your movements as you rocked against him. Each touch sent sparks shooting through your veins, and the friction between your bodies was driving you wild.

You couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All you could focus on was the feel of his lips, the warmth of his skin, the sound of his breath, heavy and labored.

When you pulled back, you pushed him back to lay on the bed.

"You really are a brat, huh?" he panted, his eyes dark with desire.

"You have no idea," you smirked, tugging his boxers down his hips.

His cock sprung free, and the sight of him made your mouth water. He was big, bigger than you expected, and the thought of him inside you made your stomach twist in anticipation.

You wrapped your hand around him, stroking him slowly.

He let out little breaths, his head falling back. You could tell he was struggling to hold himself together, and the sight made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

This feeling wasn't unfamiliar, you felt this way sometimes when you watched him on stage, his expressions, his confidence, everything about him. It was why you pretended to hate him. You were attracted to him, and the thought terrified you.

But right now, in this moment, there was no room for fear. All you could focus on was the feel of him in your hand, the taste of him on your lips, the heat of his skin.

You moved down the bed, kneeling between his legs. You couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Fucking hell," he cursed, his hand tangling in your hair.

"I'll be gentle," you teased, wrapping your lips around his tip.

The sounds that came from him was unlike anything you had ever heard, and it only fueled your desire.

You swirled your tongue around his length, savoring the taste of him. He was intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough.

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks and sucking gently. Your hands searched his body as you tasted him, feeling every inch of his chest and every detail on his body.

He was shaking, and you could tell he was holding back. And you had no intention of stopping, not until you had your fill of him.

"F-fuck," he breathed, his hand tightening in your hair. The feeling of him tugging on my hair sent shivers down my spine.

You hummed in response, the vibrations making him gasp.

You worked him slowly, teasing him with your tongue and lips. He tasted amazing, and the sound of his breathless moans was music to your ears.

You could feel the tension building in his body, his thighs twitching as he fought the urge to thrust into your mouth.

The power was intoxicating, but it wasn't enough, you wanted more.

You released him with a pop, his length coated in your saliva.

"Don't move, I'm going to ride you."

"What?"

You could see the shock on his face, and it only made you smile.

"I'm going to ride you," you repeated, climbing back onto his lap.

"But- wait- are you sure?"

His expression was comical, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Chris, do I need to spell it out for you?"

He shook his head, his eyes wide.

"Good, because I don't have the patience for it."

With that, you pushed your panties to the side, letting your legs spread wide so he could get a perfect view as you prepared yourself for him.

His breath caught in his throat, and you could feel his eyes on you, watching you as you slipped a finger inside yourself.

You couldn't believe how wet you were, your arousal coating your fingers as you stretched yourself open. You could feel him twitch beneath you, his length throbbing with need.

You added another finger, moaning as you worked yourself open. He was still watching, his gaze locked on the movement of your fingers as you fucked yourself on them.

"Fuck," he cursed, his hands gripping your hips as he tried to keep himself from thrusting up into you.

"Impatient, are we?"

He shot you a look, and you could see the desperation in his eyes.

"Fuck you," he said, though his words lacked any bite.

"I thought that was the plan," you teased, withdrawing your fingers and wiping them on his thigh.

"God, just- please," he breathed, his resolve crumbling.

"Since you asked so nicely."

You positioned yourself over him, his tip brushing against your entrance. You were already so wet, so ready for him.

"Are you sure, with no protection?"

"If you ask me one more time, I'll leave you here to take care of this yourself," you threatened.

You were on the pill, and you were too needy now to look back, the thought of feeling his raw cock stretching you out also made you super impatient.

You inserted the tip, the feel of him filling you up was overwhelming. He was big, bigger than anyone you've ever been with, and the stretch was almost too much.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you adjusted to his size.

"Fuck," you breathed, sinking down until he was buried to the hilt.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening.

"And you're fucking huge," you replied, the pressure and heat building within you.

He couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I've never had complaints."

"Shut up," you smiled, pulling him in for a kiss.

Your tongues met, dancing together in a messy tangle. He kissed you like he was starving, and you could feel his hunger for you.

You began to move, slowly at first, rocking your hips against him. His breath hitched, and his hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air.

"God, that's it," he groaned, his head falling back. His hands pushing at your inner thighs to spread your legs further.

His eyes intently staring at your body made you shiver, you grabbed at the hem of your shirt before pulling it off, giving him a better view to take in.

He groaned, his gaze roaming over your body. "So fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hand trailing up your thigh.

"I could say the same for you," you replied, tracing the lines of his abs with your fingertips.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, and the attention was overwhelming. You increased the pace, rolling your hips as you rode him. He was buried deep inside you, the sensation of him filling you up was incredible.

"God, yes," he breathed, his fingers digging into your skin.

You moaned, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. He was hitting all the right spots, and the pleasure was building, coiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Don't stop," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't bring yourself to form words, the sensation was too much, your head was spinning.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss, the taste of him only adding to the pleasure.

His tongue darted out, tracing your bottom lip.

"Fuck, Chris," you breathed, breaking the kiss.

He was breathing heavily, his gaze locked on yours. "Use me to come," he urged, his hands on your hips encouraging you.

"Chan," you moaned, his name on your lips like a prayer. You could feel him throbbing inside you, and the sensation was incredible.

"Come for me," he groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

And then, the pleasure washed over you, the waves crashing into you with such intensity that you saw stars. You felt yourself tremble as you clenched over him, falling on his chest as you cried out, whimpering as you lightly grinded your high out.

He broke when he felt you cum on him, the soft breaths coming out of his mouth, and you could feel him twitch inside you, his cock throbbing as he came, his cum filling you up.

The feeling was unlike anything you've experienced, and you could feel the pleasure coursing through your veins.

When he finally stilled, the two of you were a panting, sweaty mess. You could feel the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through your body, and the sensation was incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed, his fingers digging into your skin.

"That's exactly what we did," you teased, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

He couldn't help but laugh, burying his face in your shoulder. "You're insufferable," he murmured, his breath tickling your neck.

"Oh, and you're not?"

"I guess we're perfect for each other then."

He raised his head, his eyes meeting yours. The sincerity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but press a light kiss to his lips.

"Maybe," you conceded, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

"I'd like that," he smiled, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

Your heart swelled, and you leaned in for another kiss, a little longer than the last.

"So... I'm guessing this means you like me too?"

His question caught you off guard, and the thought made your heart flutter.

"You could say that," you replied, unable to hide the hint of hesitation in your voice.

He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "That's not an answer," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance.

You bit your lip, the uncertainty rising within you. You couldn't help but worry that this was a mistake, that it was all a joke.

"Hey," he said, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. "Talk to me."

"It's just... are you sure? I feel like you're fucking with me again, this is just too good to be true," you said, completely honest and a little too vulnerable in front of him.

"Oh my god," he sighed, his frustration evident. "How much proof do you need? If it wasn't obvious, I don't usually let people ride me."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it.

"Fair enough," you conceded, leaning in to steal a kiss.

He hummed, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"I think I'm going to enjoy proving myself," he murmured, his fingers running along the curve of your ass.

"Is that so?"

He nodded, the glint in his eye making your heart skip a beat.

"I promise you'll be begging for it next time."

"That's a bold claim," you challenged, unable to hide the amusement in your voice.

"One that I'll gladly prove," he said, his tone playful.

"We'll see about that," you teased, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Don't challenge me unless you're prepared for the consequences."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the idea of him having his way with you was intoxicating.

You giggled, stealing a quick kiss before climbing off his lap.

You couldn't help but laugh looking at him, "God, you're so cute," you teased, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before padding over to the bathroom.

You woke up early, the sunlight streaming through the window and the sound of birds chirping outside.

You groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and sitting up.

The events of last night rushed back, and you couldn't help but smile, the memory of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the sting you felt on your legs from the workout.

As you looked around, however, you were met with an empty bed, the sheets beside you cold.

A wave of panic washed over you, the realization that he wasn't here was jarring. You couldn't help but think that it had all been a dream, the thought of us doing anything already seemed unreal to you.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the door opening, and the sight of him made your heart skip a beat.

"Morning," he greeted, a wide smile on his face.

You felt way too giddy seeing his face, seeing him just made you want to plant kisses all over his face.

"Morning," you replied, the warmth spreading across your cheeks.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.

You couldn't help but stare at him, the sight of him in a plain t-shirt and shorts, his hair tousled and his skin glistening from his morning shower.

"Well, you didn't snore." you teased.

He rolled his eyes, the gesture making you giggle.

"I'm glad my princess could sleep without any disturbances, then."

The words made your heart skip a beat, and you were left speechless. You couldn't believe how quickly he had gotten under your skin.

You couldn't deny the effect he had on you, the way your heart raced when he was close, the way your body craved his touch.

You bit your lip, trying to push down the feelings that threatened to overwhelm you.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"Yeah, just... I was worried, that's all," you confessed, unable to meet his gaze.

He frowned, clearly not understanding. "Worried? Why?"

"I thought... I thought it was all a dream, that I was just imagining it."

He couldn't help but laugh, the sound filling the room.

"You're too adorable," he smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I really do like you," you countered, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them.

His expression softened, the laughter dying on his lips.

"I really do like you, too"

You couldn't help but melt, the words echoing in your head.

You leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you.

Suddenly you heard loud pounding knocks at your door.

The door opened and Minho with a tired face walked in, Seungmin shyly trailing behind him.

"I'm glad you guys... 'made up', but for fucks sake," Minho complained.

"Couldn't you have saved that?" Seungmin joined in, equally mortified.

You couldn't help but blush, the thought of your friends hearing the two of you was embarrassing.

Chris, trying to keep a straight face, couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Okay, okay, we're sorry," you apologized, holding your hands up in surrender.

"Sorry," Jisung says, barging into the conversation, "I'm just so happy for you, I've had to endure this guy whining about you for the past 2 months."

"Shut up," Chan blushed, his cheeks tinted red.

"Oh my god, is that why you were such an ass? You were pining?" you teased, pinching his cheek.

"Don't," he whined, pulling away from your grasp.

"Well, Jeongin left last night, he fled to a hotel room." Minho chimed in. "I should've just done the same."

"Why didn't you?" Jisung asked, clearly amused.

"I don't know, I was hoping the walls would be thick enough."

"Lee know, oh my god," you blushed, hiding your face in Chan's shoulder.

"You were loud, we could hear you from our room, which is right next to yours. We can also hear everything," Minho complains.

"Okay, okay," Chan concedes.

"So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?" Felix pipes up.

"What elephant?" Changbin asks, who clearly hasn't caught on.

"These two fucked," he says, just now coming into the conversation.

"Okay, that's enough, I'm leaving." You say, your face red with embarrassment.

"I'll come with," Chris agrees, and you both get up and leave the room.

"Oh my god, can they just hate each other again?" Seungmin complains.

"For the love of god, yes," Minho agrees.

*+:｡.｡

[pepsichrry]

Ride Pt. 2 || Theodore F. Nott

Summary: Your relationship with Theo escalates further

Set after the Battle of Hogwarts!

Warnings: Sexual content, Smut, Mentions of violence, Theo is in love, Theo is obsessed with his wife!!

—————————————————————————

The spring had flourished into summer almost overnight, giving way to the birth of the sunlight and the heat that came with it. The Nott family home had grown more and more familiar as these days passed and you hoped that it would continue.

Things had shifted around the house, and not just because of the change in weather. You and Theodore finally began to align like rigid puzzle pieces. What was once a secret glance became a staring contest, being in the same room became sitting together and rooms on the other side of the house became Theo sneaking into your bed each night and staying to just be with you.

You soon became comfortable with the marriage, allowing Theo to shadow you around the house from time to time or even to sleep in your bed with you, sometimes you even allowed him to distract you from your reading and eat fruit with you on the lawn. As your relationship bloomed, you thought back to the very night that broke the silence.

It had become a regular occurrence now for Theo to spread you over your bedsheets and burying his head between your thighs. But that was all. Even as the months passed by, he hadn’t asked for anything more from you, only to sleep beside you and watch you as you slept. You obliged, not minding the company. You grew used to the familiar creaking of floorboards and the gentle nudges against your skin as he slipped into what was now his side of the bed.

But something urged you further than your new routine, to find out the extent of what could be done. You wanted to know what it felt like to be completely and utterly full with him, body and soul.

So, when he finally crept into your room in the dead of night, worshipped by the dim lick of candlelight, you were already waiting for him. His deep blue eyes watched you like he never had before, sensing the shift in the air. As he got closer, you sat up, looking over the expanse of his body. His hard chest was blanketed by a soft jumper which made him all the more comfortable than he already was, and his legs were clothed in a simple pair of sweats, ready for bed. It may have not been all that enticing, but the sight of him always seemed to drive you crazy. There was something about him so siren-like, so enchanting.

“You’re awake?” He asked you with his smooth voice and cheeky smile. You nodded, waiting for him to get closer so you could finally reach out to him. “I thought you’d be asleep, I didn’t mean to wake you, Bella.”

He drew your duvet back and climbed into bed with you, lying flat on his back with his hands over his middle. You turned to him.

Bringing a gentle hand to his head, you brushed his stray curls from his forehead as he watched you with tired eyes. He happily reciprocated your soft kisses as his eyelashes fluttered against your cheekbones and he breathed in your air.

You couldn’t stop, you needed him. You needed to drink every ounce of him up, you needed to feel him all over you, you needed his soft hands to touch you and hold you to him. It was as though, suddenly, you were overcome by desperation, or better yet, adoration.

He sighed softly, fanning soft air onto you as one of his hands cupped your neck, the other finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him still. You gladly obliged, pressing your chest against his and kissing him like he was your final breath, your only lifeline.

Theo felt giddy at the sudden attention on him. Your experimental hand dragged over his chest and slowly down over his stomach. He couldn’t help but squirm in anticipation at the idea of your hand trialling any lower. Your fingers entwined in the waistband of his sweats and you ran your fingertips lightly over the edge of the fabric.

By the sounds that he was making, you could tell that he needed you just as much you needed him.

Your pinky preached the top of his bottoms and ran over the slowly tanning skin of his abdomen as he kissed over your cheek and jaw. His pillowy lips traced over the curve of your jaw, leaving hot and damp hair to travel down your neck as his breath began to deepen upon your fingers trailing beneath his bottoms.

You pulled back, the ghost of your lips hovered over his as you watched for his reaction as your fingers began to brush over the tiny curls at the base of his cock. Slowly, they came into contact with the ache that Theo so desperately wanted to ignore, until your smooth hands were wrapped around it, he could have died on the spot.

His head flew back against the pillow, his eyes shut and his brows pulled into a deep frown, not of perplexity, but of utter pleasure. Your grip tightened ever so slightly around the thickness of his dick and he keened from where he lay. His mouth tipped open, so you opted to kiss around the apples of his cheeks, over every mole and dimple, further down over his neck and in the sickly sweet spot behind his ear, whispering for him to take off his top.

Theo couldn’t help but shiver as he peeled off his jumper, revealing him to the cool air and your piercing gaze. Every inch of his gorgeous skin was kissed by the sun, leaving freckles and birthmarks in its wake. You made sure to do the same, bending your head to press your lips against the moles on his collarbones. Theo sighed softly as you began to work your hand as best as you could whilst it was restricted by the fabric of his underwear, the sound carrying through the room. Merlin, he hadn’t even taken the rest of his clothing yet, but you felt him in the place where you needed him most, and he was big.

His slender hand soothed over your back as you sucked light purple bruises into his chest and neck while you pumped at his cock, encouraging you to do something, anything further. He didn’t know if he could take any more anticipation. He’d been waiting for you to allow him the chance to sink into you at last, but he was so desperate and pussy-whipped that anything would do. He waited patiently and happily for his climax and inevitably cumming in his pants again, until you slipped your hand back out of his underwear.

You looked up at him with desire on your face and he knew what you’d ask. “Take these off.” You told him and he obeyed.

Theo thought you could ask him anything and he’d obey, just like a slave to your command, not that he’d mind. It was just one of the many things he’d do for you in order to satisfy you.

He lay before you, nearly bare except for his underwear which did nothing to conceal the embarrassingly obvious fact of his need. His chest lifted up and down as his lungs worked double time and you eyed him admiringly. Despite the hardness beneath his boxers, you gently squeezed him through the fabric, enjoying the tortured whine he gave out.

You hushed him sweetly, rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip with a grin. His eyes lit up with desperation. You booked a finger beneath the band of his boxers, yanking them firmly, and with his help, he became entirely exposed to you. You still wore your nightgown, which he eyed hopefully, but you made no move to take it off just then.

The lower you took your body, the higher Theo’s heart rate became, until your face was just above his crotch and he swore that he felt his heart stop. Testing the waters, your hand wrapped around him once again and brought your mouth down to place a teasing kiss over the tip of his dick. He puffed out a breath that he never knew he was holding and entangled a hand in your hair.

Slowly, you grazed the underside of his cock with your tongue, trailing over the soft skin with ease, wetting it with your saliva. You continued to do so, each time your tongue met the tip, you’d broaden your tongue and do the same thing over again as he grew more and more restless each time. You placed a reassuring hand on his thigh as they began to tremble and your thumb rubbed the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, dangerously close to the curve of his balls. His head pressed harshly into the pillows behind him as he panted.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you took the very tip of his dick into your lips, surprising you at how much bigger he was than you thought. You sucked, hard, and he let out a deep moan at the sensation. It was an unusual situation to you, but you found that you could learn quickly about what he liked, so you continued to suck. Your hand pumped his length as you suckled and licked at his tip, gaining confidence as his noises grew louder.

His cock began to throb and his balls tightened, the only warning he was able to give being the grip on your hair clamping down. That was when you pulled off of him with a ‘pop’.

“But- Wh-“ He began, but you cut him off with a kiss, enjoying how quick he was to melt into your sudden affection.

You didn’t give him long to ponder as you slipped your nightgown over your head, revealing your naked body for him to see. His intense gaze lingered over your chest before it trailed down to your wet pussy. You supposed he was half expecting for you to sit on his face like you often did, but you took him by surprise when you asked him:

“Are you gonna let me fuck you?”

Of course he was, how couldn’t he? All he’d wanted since he saw you in the big white dress at the wedding was to take you to bed and make love to you. And now that you were finally going to allow him the honour? How could he say no?

“Merlin, yes!” He rasped, watching you as you swung a leg over his hips as though mounting a horse. His eyes didn’t know where to look, so they raked over you as he prepared for you to take him.

You smiled sweetly, leaning down to peck his lips with your own. You took him into your hand and dragged his tip over your soaked folds; you had no idea how much pleasure it gave you to hear him whine. Finally, you lined his tip up against where you needed him most and sunk down onto him.

Theo felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him, you were right above him, as beautiful as the sun and the sky and he’d never felt such bliss. For a second, he swore he saw heaven.

That was until you started to move, and he was rendered powerless against the pleasure you were giving him. He moaned fully now, head twisting into the pillow as though it would give him some relief to be rid of the sight of you. He couldn’t take it, he was sure to come just by looking at you. His mouth was hung open as though he was screaming in agony, except he was only tensing in pure unbridled pleasure.

His length hit against the most dangerous of angles inside of you, sending shocks up your spine as you clenched around him. The twinge of pain you’d felt at the initial stretch had quickly subsided as you began to bounce on top of him and was replaced by a blinding blood rush to your head. You felt dizzy, only it was in the best way possible.

With each brush against his skin, your clit was stimulated, forcing you to let out a sigh each time. He poured every inch of his soul into yours with every breath he took, watching you like a lifetime of his memories and future all at once, worshipping at your altar of your goddess. He’d serve you, he’d obey, he’d care for you, if you allowed him.

You let out a loud cry as his hips jolted from the bed, pressing against your cervix in a sudden pain, though it soon dissipated, soothing into sparks of pleasure. He forced his weight off of the bed in time with you, encased to the hilt of his cock in your soft pussy. And with every meeting of your hips, the warmth in your belly loosened, allowing you to steal bursts of pleasure for your body. Heat throbbed over your body and your heart pounded, you were so close.

And then it stopped. Theo pulled you off of him with a firm grip, eyes wide, pupils dilated. He looked almost feral as you frowned up at him as he took his place above you. Without wasting a second, his lips were on you, trailing over your chest and sucking your nipples into his mouth.

His hand lowered down to where you needed him the most, guiding his painfully hard dick into your tight entrance, sighing as you squeezed him to nicely. The softness of his hair on your sternum, the kindness of his hands and the noises he made, it was all taking its toll on you. You were surrounded by him, his arms encasing you, the warmth from his body still on the sheets that you rested against, his dick inside of you. He was everything in that moment.

The slapping of skin filled the air as he drove his hips harder and faster with each pull of your charm. He let out a choked sigh as he pounded into you, chasing his high more desperately than he ever had. His constant motion made you clench around him, feeling your orgasm creep up through your spine.

“Theo!” You gasped, and he responded with a pitiful whimper. He’d dreamed about the way that you’d cry his name, about this very situation. It was feeling so real, so much. He couldn’t help but be dragged closer to the edge.

He buried his hot face into your hair, moaning with each thrust of his hips, his feet pushing against the sheets to look for any way to sink deeper into you.

Your body erupted with the winding of warmth and unbearable pleasure. Your orgasm washed over you like a tide as Theo’s body met your own. You tensed and it was like nothing you’d ever felt before, your thighs shook from where they were wrapped around his hips and your hand clawed at his scalp like you could pull yourself up from the fire of hell. But nothing felt better than the flames licking at your skin.

He couldn’t help but feel bus eyes water with tears as he so desperately wanted to scream. His climax hit him like a brick straight to the face, so much that he could hardly feel his own body. He tried to cry out, but it was as though you had complete control over his body as you shared your pleasure like treasured goods.

You felt him still, pushing into you as much as he could. That was when you felt him spill into you, a kind of warmth pouring into you, you realised that he’d just come inside of you, not that you minded. His skin was moist as he slipped his weight on top of you, and every inch of you was now touching him. You could get used to it.

You wondered if his nightly visits would escalate to this in the future. You certainly hoped so.

pt.1

[temilyrights]

in the darkness (open your eyes)

melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

summary: melissa and reader are angry with each other over reader's dating life. who will break first? or will someone need to intervene to get them to pull their heads out their asses and make up? inspired by prompt 31 “Let’s just say that if I saw you bleeding out on my kitchen floor, I’d act like I hadn’t seen you.”

word count: 4.6k

warnings: arguments, swearing, hurt/comfort, insecure!melissa, age gap, reader is referenced as being under 30.

a/n: hello friends, this has been a long time coming. i've wanted to write for this queen for ages and when i finally sat down to do it the words didn't stop spilling out of me. i haven't been able to write like this in years, so i think i've found my passion again in melissa <3 it's good to be back. it's a long one and i hope i managed to capture her correctly. enjoy :)

For twenty years Barbara Howard has arrived at Abbott Elementary at 5.50am on the dot, just in time for her to park her car, take a stroll to the staffroom and make herself a coffee before Action News started at 6 sharp. Now, the walls of Abbott were never calm, but for 30 minutes every morning, while she sipped her coffee and listened to the soothing tones of Jim Gardner, everyone around her seemed to be able to keep themselves together. Even in her first year of teaching Janine had never tried to disturb her, maybe for once able to sense the importance of these moments for a successful teaching day. 

Barbara can tell it will not be a normal day in Abbott the moment she pushes past the green doors into the building. The energy is high in the air and she fears if she touches anything an electric shock might meet her. Still, she sends a prayer to God and pushes her way through the building.

No one was stopping her from getting her 30 minutes of peace. 

She finds the culprit for the upsetting energy the moment she crosses the threshold of the staff room and is not slightly surprised. Melissa sits in her usual chair, her face murderous, eye’s dark and tongue in cheek as she stares pointedly at the wall with her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Jacob sits on the couch, eyes on his phone and leg bouncing anxiously, he shoots a look around the room and when his eyes land on Barbara his body sags in relief, thinking he’s found safety. 

Whilst Barbara’s got no idea what has happened, she also notes that the room is empty apart from the three of them and although Melissa’s anger making people scram is not an uncommon occurrence, it has never, in the last two years since you joined Abbott, made you flee a room. In fact, Barbara had watched you calm Melissa down with a simple touch to her arm, something she has never been able to do. 

You did not fear Melissa, which means this anger was likely related to you. These moments were normally quick and fleeting and yet Melissa was so upset it was going to disrupt Action News. Definitely not a regular morning. 

“Would you like a coffee, Melissa?” Barbara asks, starting simple as she enters the room and makes her way to the coffee machine, barely sparing Melissa a glance.

Melissa stands and takes the coffee mug from the table beside her and throws it on the floor, shattering it into tiny pieces, making Jacob yelp. She stalks from the room, muttering angrily under her breath something about ‘betrayal’. 

Barbara sighs tiredly, pressing her fingers to her temples. Today was going to be a long day. 

She considers going after the redhead but as a simple question had produced such a ferocious reaction, she decides it is best to let her cool off before work starts and sits down with Jacob to catch the reminder of Action News. 

She was determined to not let today become a complete lost cause. 

Later, on her way to her classroom to set up for the day, she finds Melissa with her head buried in grading, probably a good idea and a way to calm herself down after this morning's fiasco. However, you’re completely missing from your classroom, very unusual. 

A complete disruption to your routine this morning it seems, Miss L/N.

Barbara lays eyes on you for the first time that day when she’s walking her class to their music lesson. You offer a smile and “Good Morning, Miss Howard,” but the bags are obvious under your eyes. You did not sleep well last night. 

“Good Morning. Your class is in an excellent mood this morning. Gym class?” She asks, looking behind you to the excited third-graders who stand in lines of two, well-behaved but talking in a low excited chatter. 

You chuckle, “I’ve never known a class to love it more.”

Barbara hums, waving goodbye as you turn off down the corridor towards the gym. She drops her class off with the music teacher, making sure to remind them to be well behaved before she heads back down the corridor, stopping at your classroom. 

You look up from your desk, surprised. “Can I help you, Barbara?” 

She’s never seen the point beating around the bush, and she was not about to start now. “I ran into a very angry Melissa this morning. Do you know something about that?” 

Your entire body tenses, your smile going rigid and tight on your face. Barbara can see the anger simmering behind the surface. Unusual. You were always more calm, more open to reason. “I’d be more surprised if you’d said she was in a good mood. Now I’ve actually got work to be doing, if you don’t mind.” 

“Y/N,” Barbara sighs, giving you the pointed look that always works on students and teachers alike. 

You shake your head, “I really respect you a lot Barb, but you’re not gonna be able to fix this one. Please just leave it alone.” 

Barbara stands there for a long moment, staring at you, before she releases a sigh. “Fine. But one of you needs to fix this because Abbott barely has enough mugs as it is.”

She gives you one last pointed look before leaving the room. You sink into your desk, hands capturing your head to stop your head from slamming against the desk and adding to your already growing headache. 

Fuck Melissa Schemmenti. 

Fuck everything about her. 

She had no right to be angry. You’d done nothing wrong. You felt bad for blowing off Barbara, you knew she was just trying to help. And usually a pointed look from her had you confessing your darkest sins, but not this time you couldn’t. She couldn’t fix it. Melissa was the one in the wrong and you were gonna keep a wide berth until she bloody well realised that. 

Although knowing Melissa, you’ll be on your deathbed before that happens and maybe even then she’ll find something scalding to say. It’s what you get for trying to have an honest conversation with a red-headed cancer. 

She was more ill behaved than your worst students. 

 ——

You dismiss your students for lunch minutes before the bell rings, hoping you’ll be able to run to the staff room and grab your lunch and run back without facing the redhead. It’s not that you’re scared of her, you simply don’t have the energy to deal with her attitude so eating in your classroom was the best option. 

However, your plans are foiled when Ava stops your pathway talking about a new tiktok challenge that she wants you involved in. “You’re the only teacher that won’t embarrass me and show off that this place has at least some fit, young teachers.” 

“Sure, whatever. I need to go.” You say, not really listening as you put an end to the conversation and move past her. 

“Rude!” She yells back at you, “But do your thing, girl!” 

By the time you make it to the staff room everyone is already there. Jacob is telling an over the top story about something uninteresting to Janine and Gregory. And Barbara and Melissa are talking quietly at their usual table, where you usually join them. Melissa looks calmer than when you’d spoken to her this morning, she even smiles at Barbara, however the moment you step into the room it all fades away. Her eyes land on you and her eyes harden and her shoulder tense. She jabs the salad in her tupperware harshly. 

You can’t contain your eye roll and don’t bother to say hello to anyone as you make your way through the room to the fridge. 

Janine picks up on the tension in the room, drawing her away from Jacob’s rambling that appears to have gotten more anxious. “Woah, what’s going on guys?” 

“Nothing.” You say.

“Y/N’s a snake.” Melissa gruffs at the same time. 

You slam the door to the fridge before you can grab your lunch, swinging around to glare at her as Barbara releases a horrified, “Melissa!”

“You’re a child. Just grow up!” You growl. 

“Rich comin’ from the girl that isn’t even thirty yet.” 

“Well that wasn’t a problem for your sister when I went on a date with her last night!” 

The gasps in the room are instant. Even Gregory breaks out into a coughing fit as he struggles for breath. And okay, yeah. So you went on a date with Melissa’s sister, but in your defence you hadn’t known she was her sister until half way through the date and then you’d fucking ended it because you knew Melissa would get her panties in a twist. 

And you thought you were being a good friend coming clean, that it would be a funny story. But no, classic Melissa flipped her shit talking about betrayal and schemes. 

“Kristen Marie?” You hear Jacob mutter horrified under his breath. You don’t bother to correct him but no, her you knew. It had been Toni, Melissa’s youngest sister. You’d matched on Tinder and apart from both having green eyes there was nothing on her profile that gave away they were siblings. Toni was tall with short brown hair. You hadn’t even known she was from Philly until you showed up.

Melissa pushes herself up from her chair, her eyes dark and murderous as she stalks over to you. “I want nothin’ to do with ya.” 

The hurt you’re feeling is shoved down. There’s no place for it when she’s angry. “Fine by me. If you’re this upset over one date I left early then maybe it’s a good call to bring this friendship to an end.” 

“Guys-” Janine tries to interrupt.

“No,” You state hardly, eyes never straying from Melissa’s cold ones, “Schemmenti finally knows what she wants.” 

“Yeah I do, and it’s you far away from me. In fact, so it’s clear for everyone just how I feel about this traitor, let’s say that if I saw you bleedin’ out on my kitchen floor, I’d act like I hadn’t seen ya.” 

More horrified gasps. The words hit you in the chest but you barrel forward, your words scalding as you see red. “Wow, Schemmenti. It’s real no wonder you’re alone, is it? Determined to run anyone out your life that shows you any kindness. I’m surprised Joe lasted so long.” 

Barbara shoots up, lips pursed and hands signalling a sharp line. “Enough! That is enough!” 

Your shoulders slump, tired and drained. Everyone looks on edge, Janine close to tears although the words hadn’t been directed anywhere near her. Barbara was right. 

You sigh, turn around and grab your lunch from the fridge while Melissa storms back to her chair. 

“I’m sorry for the disruption. Enjoy your lunch.” You say to the group as you head for the door. 

“Yeah, and don’t come back.” Melissa grunts. 

“Oh, fuck off.” You snip, sending her one last glare before you storm back to your classroom where you close the door with perhaps too much force behind you. Which works in your favour because it’s a great deterrent in case anyone gets any unwise decisions to follow you, luckily they don’t. 

Over the course of the next week you try every mindfulness trick in the book but still end up going home most evenings and screaming into a pillow. Everyone for the obvious reason that they weren’t shit scared of you had started coming to you begging you to fix the relationship between you and Melissa, like she wasn’t the one to burn it down in flames in the first place!

You don’t care how many times Janine comes to you crying about Abbott peace needing to be restored, or Jacob complains that he’s running out of crockery because Melissa keeps smashing it, or even Barbara’s pointed looks (which you know Melissa will be receiving as well) you refuse to give in. Not this time.

Ava’s pointed, “Fix this because I’m not starting doomsday with a fighting crew so I will have to pick, and it’s not looking good for you.” definitely hurts a little because you thought you were friends. 

“This is the end of the world, Y/N. Friends get you killed! I need a crew with skills to make sure I survive.”

You walk away from that conversation and miss Melissa not for the first time that week. She’d say something kind to cheer you up like, “Doomsday ain’t happening, but if it does I’m not anyone’s patsy. Me, you, Barb and her family are all headin’ up to my timeshare and I’m keeping youse safe.”

As you walk the hallways of Abbott you hear her voice through the open door of her classroom. You pause, leaning against the wall where she can’t see you, and listen to her teach. You haven’t heard her voice void of hate all week and it was draining you. For a woman set on wanting nothing to do with you, she seemed to be around every corner shooting you a glare or scorching remark. 

You melt into the wall, and listen to her lead her class through a grammar lesson, her voice gentle as she praises and encourages students. You miss the days you could drop in to her class on your free periods and bring her a cup of coffee just to see her eyes light up and receive a warm smile before leaving her to teach. You miss sharing food over lunch, you hate not having anyone to try your new recipe’s on. You miss every little soft touch she’d give you throughout the day, a hand on your arm, on your upper back, on your shoulder. You didn’t realise how much you relied on those moments to keep you steady until they were pulled away and suddenly you didn’t feel safe in your own body anymore. Ridiculous. You lived many years before Melissa Schemmenti your body and brain just needed to get the memo that it was happening again. 

You needed to get over yourself because your friendship with Melissa Schemmenti was dead. Those kind comments weren’t coming and you needed to stop yearning for them if you wanted to survive at Abbott. First things first, maybe stop wistfully waiting outside her classroom. 

You’re back in your classroom at the end of the day, packing up after dismissing your kids, when Ava’s voice rings through the intercom, “Miss Schemmenti and Miss L/N report to Miss Howard’s classroom immediately.”

What the hell?

You frown and place the books in your hands down before you head towards the kindergarten's teacher’s room, curiosity getting the better of you.

Melissa runs into you in the corridor, her brows drawn together in confusion. “You know what this is about?” She asks gruffly.  

“Not a clue.” You sigh. 

You let her lead the way into the classroom. Her walk signalling her preparation for battle. The protective streak in her simmering under the surface, you’d be dumb to think it had anything to do with you. 

The kindergarten classroom is empty and in perfect order. Barbara Howard stands poised perfectly beside her desk, her head held high. “I’d like both of you to sit down please.” She says in her sickly sweet voice. The one you know means danger if you don’t comply so you perch on a desk near the front of her class. 

StIll, Melissa doesn’t follow orders. Instead, hovering by the door. “Barb, what’s going on?” 

Barbara holds her gaze, eyes flashing, even as her voice drips with honey, “Melisssa, dear. Sit down.” 

She grumbles but this time complies, choosing the desk on the other side of the aisle to you. “Happy?” 

“Wonderful.” Barbara clasps her hands together and starts making her way to the door. “Now, you two are going to fix what’s happened between you-”

“I’m not talking to that-”

“Barbara-”

“I do not want to hear it!” She cuts you both off. “I’ve had enough of the temper tantrums and sulking. You’re worse than the teenagers. So pull it together and admit you miss each other so people can stop walking on eggshells and poor Janine’s hair stops falling out.” 

Thoroughly told, you slump further in on yourself as Barbara strides out of the room. The door shutting behind her and the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking into place.

You chance a glimpse of Melissa from the corner of your eye. Surprised she wasn’t up, ready to kick the door down to escape you. It’s then you notice just how tired she looks. Her makeup has begun to fade, revealing the dark circles under her eyes, her face was drawn and pale, her eyes lacking their usual sparkle. She looks exhausted.  

“Melissa, what’s it going to take for you to forgive me?” You ask plainly. 

She shoots you a glare, eyes full of fire again. The tiredness hidden and slammed up behind shields. “You know this ain’t a forgive and forget sorta situation.”

You push yourself off the desk and walk closer to the woman of your torment, “What so we don’t listen to Barbara and Abbott continues to be an awful place to work because everyone is uncomfortable whenever we’re in the same room.”

She shrugs, “I’ve worked with enemies before.” 

“I’m an enemy now? Come on! It was one lousy date! You wanna throw away years of good friendship for that? I’ve apologised multiple times and I’ll do it again. I’m sorry Melissa. I wouldn’t have gone on the date if I’d known. You must know that.” You say incredulously, watching the hard-headed woman in front of you. “Why would I wanna jeopardise my closest relationship here? You really think you mean that little to me?” 

She wavers, the words touching her, but she doesn’t soften. Instead, she pushes herself off the desk, making herself taller. 

“You talk the talk. But if that’s all true,” she jabs a finger in your direction, “why’d you send goddamn’ nudes to my sister, Y/N!” 

Your eyes widen, jaw dropping in shock. “What the hell are you talking about? We went on half a date. Why would I have sent her nudes? Do you really think I’m that sort of person?” 

She crosses her arms against her chest, “I saw her last Sunday, before your date. She told me about this ‘young thing’ she was messagin’ and receivin’ risky photos from. You tellin’ me that weren’t you?”

“Firstly, ‘young thing’ is disgusting.” You protest, and Melissa winces in agreement. “But more to the point, no it was not me. Not that it would be any of your business if I did decide to send those types of photos to someone because I’m an adult and it’s my choice, Melissa. I get she’s your sister but I told you I left the date when I found out and that I had no interest in seeing her again. So I just don’t understand what the problem is.”

She sighs, and takes a step back. “You really tellin’ the truth?” 

“Yes!” 

“Fuckin’ hell,” She grumbles.

Her gaze drops from yours as she kicks her shoe into the ground, a frustrated grunt leaving her lips. When she looks at you again, her gaze softens, the anger melting away leaving her vulnerability exposed.  “Look, I hated the thought of her seeing youse like that, alright? I love my sister but she’s not got the best track record of treatin’ women the way they ought to be treated and I didn’t want you messed up in that. If you were sharin’ those photos it should be with someone that respected ‘em, respected you. Not someone that treated you like her latest play thing.”

“So you took it out on me.”

“Well you still went on a date with my sister,” She says with an eye roll, “but I guess I got a second wind of anger when I connected the dots and It was easier to blame you. I’m sorry.” She shrugs.

You smile tenderly. The calm good, hope settling in your stomach that everything might actually be okay. She cared about you being treated right, that was something, at least.

“I’m sorry too. For everything I said in the staff room. I didn’t mean it.” You respond genuinely. You’d regretted the words as soon as your anger had faded. 

“All’s good.” She shrugs again, with a smile. And you know you’re forgiven, even if you don’t feel like you quite deserve it. 

She tilts her head, fingers tugging on the belt straps of her jeans - which doesn’t make your heart skip a beat at all. “Let me ask one thing ‘nd then we can move on for good.” 

You clear your throat, “S-Sure.” 

“Why her?”

“Mel-” You shake your head.

“Come on, there’s gotta be loads of women on those apps, but ya choose to meet with Toni, why?” She asks, watching you closely, eyes guarded, like she’s scared of your answer.

You sigh and contemplate lying or refusing to answer, especially with how new the calm is and how quick she can be set off again. But you also don’t want to refuse her and you can see the vulnerability she’s desperately trying to hide.

“Honestly?” You shrug, unable to hold her gaze, “I liked her eyes.” 

“Seriously?” She chokes, eyes widening in surprise. She ducks her head and shifts on her feet, “People have always said we got the same eyes.” 

“Similar. Yours are lighter, bigger, prettier.” The words are out your mouth before you can stop them and you kind of want the ground to swallow you up whole. 

Melissa smiles, her cheeks dusting pink, as she laughs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, hon.” 

The compliment hadn’t been intended and leaves you feeling exposed, but still you hate her immediate refusal. A trend since you started at Abbott. Apart from compliments on her teaching, which she accepts, she’s always quick to dismiss the kind words that come from your mouth. Any compliments on her hair, her outfits, her personality are all quickly laughed off. You hate it, and what’s worse, you really don’t understand it. She accepts everyone else’s nice words, you know she’s so confident in herself, so it doesn’t make any sense. 

“Why do you do that?” You ask, sighing. 

She furrows her brows, “Do what?” 

“Always reject the compliments I give you.” 

She huffs, eyes averting yours. “I don’t.” 

“Oh, come on,” You chuckle, “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

She crosses her arms against her chest, shrugging, “You’re a kid, whats it matter if I accept your compliments or not?” She challenges

“I’ve told you not to call me that.” You say firmly, eyes narrowing. 

You had this conversation a few months after you started working together and she promised she’d stop calling you that. You were aware of the age gap, but that doesn’t mean you need to be patronisingly called ‘kid’, especially by Melissa. She knew better. 

Her eyes narrow as her hand comes out to wave at you, “But you are, alright? Ain’t even thirty. Why are we kiddin’ ourselves with nice conversations and stupid compliments that mean nothin’.”

“You don’t honestly believe that,” You breathe, voice calm even as your heart beats rapidly. 

“You should be hangin’ out with kids your own age, not me.” 

“I do, you know this. I have out of school friends and I’ve got Ava and I join the after school crew sometimes.”

She stares at you, her eyes hard even as her hands shake. You reach out and place a gentle hand over hers and watch as her whole body relaxes. 

Her eyes squeeze shut and she drops her head, a deep sigh escaping her lips. 

“Mel, this is me.” You whisper. “My favourite part of the day is sneaking into your classroom and giving you a coffee because it makes you smile. You have no idea how much I’ve missed it this last week. It just so happens that out of everyone you're still my favourite person to be with. What’s so wrong about that?”

Shining green eyes meet yours, “I ain’t good for ya.” 

Your brows draw together, heart aching as you step closer to her. “That’s not true.” 

She’s so close you can see the brown specks in her green eyes. You want to reach out and cup her cheek, hold her close and help somehow. 

“Isn’t my opinion what matters?” You prompt. 

Her eyes gaze back into yours, pained and tormented. 

“You’re a terrible idea.” She breathes, voice so quiet you barely hear it over the sound of your thumping heart. 

“Mel,” Your heart thuds, your voice shaking as you're guided closer by an invisible force. Your hand rests on her upper arm, hers perching on your waist and all your thoughts disappear in an instant as your eyes squeeze shut and you try to remember how to breathe. 

Her eyes track your face, memorising every detail now she has you so close. The slight furrow of your brow, your delicate eyelashes, your open mouth.

“Fuck it,” She sighs, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, fingers cool against your overheated skin. Your eyes open and Melissa’s darkened ones stare back at you. Your teeth dig into your lip and her eyes follow the movement. 

You can’t find your breath as Melissa guides you towards her, her mouth slowly moving closer to yours. Your fingers grip into the cotton of her t-shirt the moment her lips tenderly brush against yours. You melt into the kiss, a mew escaping your mouth as you kiss her back. All thoughts gone as you give into the sensation of her lips against yours.

It doesn’t last long but you still can’t find your breath when Melissa pulls back, a nervous smile on her lips. 

“Wow,” You breathe.

She chuckles affectionately, her eyes warm as she watches you. “That’s all you’ve gotta say?” 

“Uh…Kiss me again, please?” You offer

She chuckles again, her smirk victorious as she rolls her eyes. “Come on, tell me what you’re feelin’” 

“Oh, isn’t that obvious?” You squint, “I’m obsessed with you. I have been for ages. You’re the one that was keeping it all close to the chest, Schemmenti.” 

She shrugs, “Dunno. I might’ve suspected you had a thing. Wasn’t sure though, and with those dates you’ve been going on. I was gettin’ mixed signals.” She rolls her eyes. 

She’s been going on dates as well but it seems pointless to point that out. “Melissa, I’m crazy about you.” 

She grins, “I kinda have a thing for ya too.”

Your heart thumps at her words, like the kiss wasn’t enough confirmation. Her smile and warm eyes, matching your own goofy smile. “That’s good to know. How about you let me take you out for dinner?”

She rolls her eyes, “What the same place you took my sister? No hun, I’m takin’ you out.”

Your teeth dig into your lips as you try and fail to suppress your smirk, “Oh, was that the real issue? Jealous that your sister got to go out with me first?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” She grumbles.

“Oh yeah, is that so?” You tease, leaning in close. 

Melissa’s eyes darken, “I’d watch it if I were you.” 

“Why’s that?” You ask, excitement rippling down your spine.

“‘Cause you’ve got no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A promise.” 

Your body heats up. All the air leaving your lungs as Melissa laughs. 

“This is gonna be fun.” She grins. 

She pats your hip, “Come on, hon, let's find a way out of this room and then I’ll take you on a proper date.”

You nod, unable to form words as you follow her blindly.

But with Melissa Schemmenti, you know you’ll always be okay, even if she does have a dangerous impact on your ability to regulate your breath.

You think it’s worth it. 

For a woman that beautiful, just about anything is.