#don’t ask where they’re going idk either | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

steveslevis · 10 days ago

Text

i want your things in my room

azriel x roommate!reader

summary: azriel is your roommate and one of your best friends. it's normal to have a crush on and have horny thoughts about your best friend every once in a while...right?

warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love!!!!!, angst, alcohol consumption, masturbation (m), dom/sub dynamic, oral (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, so much dirty talk from az, slight degradation kink, praise kink, sir kink, semi-unprotected (?) rough piv, slight breeding kink, choking/breath play, size kink/big dick azriel as usual, dacryphilia, probably some things i missed idk

word count: 8.2k

a/n: based off of this ask!!!! don't ask how i wrote this so quickly idk what took over me

“Are you ever going to admit that you want to fuck Azriel?” a low, unamused voice murmurs in your ear as you feel the couch cushion behind your back dip slightly with the weight of their elbows.

You whip your head around at an impressive speed, coming face-to-face with your best friend and neighbor, Nesta, who is smirking at you as she extends a plastic cup filled with a mystery concoction of alcohol towards you.

She’d caught you staring at your roommate from across the living room, ignoring the rest of the people bustling around you to essentially undress him with your eyes. Well, it didn’t take too much to undress him with your eyes, considering he’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a fully open button-down short sleeve shirt, accenting the gold chain dangling around his neck and the swirling tattoos over his bare chest and arms. It’s not your fault that he’s attractive and nearly shirtless, it’s just distracting.

“I will never admit such a thing, because it’s not true.” you retort matter-of-factly as you pluck the cup from her hand with an incredulous glare.

“Oh, sure.” Nesta hums unconvincingly before rounding the couch to stand in front of you, holding a hand out to you to help you stand. “Let’s go, the boys want to play beer pong.”

A groan falls from your lips as you stand, letting her pull you across the room to the corner where Cassian had set up a folding table and ten cups on each side. Azriel and Cassian are standing on either side of the table, practicing tosses while poking fun at each other.

Cassian is the first to notice you and his girlfriend walk over, a wide, drunken grin spreading over his face as he sets the ping pong ball down to pull Nesta in for an embrace. As he does, Nesta grumbles something about how she just saw him ten minutes ago and that he’s so clingy when he’s drunk, but there’s nothing but love behind her eyes as she jokes with him.

Oh, how you wish you had someone to look at you like that.

An arm slings around your shoulder as you stare longingly at the couple, breaking you from your desperate trance. You look over to see your roommate tugging you close, a half-smirk on his lips as he stares down at you.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” you say to him before looking back to Nesta and Cassian, who are giggling to themselves in between kisses, in their own little world. “I’m so happy Nes finally found someone who actually makes her happy.”

“Oh yeah, they’re disgustingly adorable.” Azriel replies, a slight cringe playing on his face as his eyes flicker to the couple as his hand falls to the small of your back to guide you to your side of the pong table.

“What? Not the affectionate type, Azzy?” you tease, a twinkle in your eyes as you try to hide the disappointment at his disgust in the public affection, though you’re not sure why you’re disappointed considering you’ll never be on the receiving end of his romantic affection.

“I don’t know, not really.” he hums thoughtfully, arranging the cups to his liking as he avoids your gaze.

“You wanna know what I think?” you question, bringing your drink to your lips to take one long gulp. The two drinks you’d had prior to standing up are finally catching up to you now, leaving you with more courage and a warmer chest than you had five minutes ago.

“Pretty sure you’re gonna tell me what you think regardless of if I want you to or not, sweetheart.” Azriel teases, looking down at you as you take a step towards him, a smirk plastered on your face.

“I th–think that you just haven’t found the right girl to make you want to publicly display affection.” you say confidently, chin raised high to lock eyes with him. “I think you just need to find the perfect girl that you’ll want to claim as yours and scream it from the rooftops.”

The two of you have a momentary staring contest as you search his eyes for any sign that you’re right, but finding none. Azriel opens his mouth to give you a smart retort, but before he can speak, someone backs into you and makes you lose your footing. You stumble forward, your chest falling flush with his bare abdomen as his hands reach for your waist to keep you from falling. He looks down at you then, eyes glued on your breasts as they threaten to spill from your top as you wrap your arms around him.

All he can think about as he watches you scramble in his arms is how much he wants to say fuck it to this party and take you back to his room to see what those perfect tits look like in his–

A giggle falls from your lips, interrupting Azriel’s lewd thoughts when you finally stand up straight and take a step back when he lets you out of his arms. Your cheeks are flushed when you pull away, as if you’re just as flustered as he is about the interaction.

“S–Sorry about that.” you laugh nervously, turning to look over your shoulder to make sure nobody else is going to knock you over.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Azriel chuckles dryly, moving to stand halfway behind you in order to prevent you from being knocked over again.

“Are you two done being idiots for long enough for us to play or not?” Nesta calls over the table, raising her brows at you, which makes you roll your eyes at her as you nod.

To any outsiders, the game of beer pong definitely looks like it’s being played by two love-sick males and the females that they’ll never get enough of. Nobody would guess that the “couple” being exceedingly touchy and overly-affectionate was the pair who just discussed his hatred of public affection, especially by the fact that he can’t keep his hand off your back, and how it keeps almost falling to your ass every time you jump with happiness when you make a cup.

To anyone watching, it’s extremely obvious that Azriel is so infatuated with you that it’s almost ridiculous. To you, it’s anything but obvious as you tell yourself with every touch that he’s just your roommate and he’d never look at you that way.

________________________________

Azriel can’t sleep.

Usually after a party at the apartment, he’s out as soon as his head hits the pillow, but not tonight.

He’s plagued by thoughts of you, thoughts he probably should not be having about his roommate.

The two of you have always denied any feelings for each other in front of your friends, but there’s no denying how you run through his mind every night.

“We’ve just grown very close since living together, we’re best friends.” you’d said one night when your friends asked, as you were clinging onto Azriel’s arm on the couch drunkenly, “and best friends can flirt with each other and shouldn’t get any shit for it. Sometimes it just happens, alright?”

His mind races as he stares at the ceiling, unable to focus on anything but you, thoughts of you racing through his mind at breakneck speeds.

Thoughts of you underneath him, your breathy moans ringing in his ears as he thrusts into you mercilessly. Thoughts of tears streaming down your cheeks while you choke on his cock as he fists your hair, fucking your face while cooing to you about how you’re such a good little slut. Thoughts of bending you over the kitchen counter to take you from behind, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other over your mouth to muffle your cries.

Fuck.

He should not be fisting his cock to the thought of you, especially with you sleeping one room over, but he can’t help himself.

Ever since you moved in with him after you switched apartments with Cassian to escape the nightly fuck fest from Nesta and Cassian, Azriel hasn’t been able to keep you out of his late night thoughts. He knows it’s wrong, knows that imagining you riding his cock as he pumps his spit-slick length is fucked up, but you’re stuck on his brain.

Tonight specifically, he does not give a fuck. He’s too horny for his own good, especially after seeing directly down your shirt when you fell into his arms. So, he continues to stroke himself, breathy grunts falling from his lips as his imagination runs wild.

Azriel typically isn’t one to cum too quickly, but things have been different since you’d moved into the apartment. At first he’d told himself that he wasn’t having girls over so you wouldn’t have to listen to that, but deep down he knows that’s not the true reason. He’s utterly touch-starved and desperate for you only, so it only takes a few pumps with images of you flashing in his mind for him to finish into his fist, chest heaving and heart thumping against his ribs.

It’s fine, it’s totally okay that he just came in less than five minutes to the thought of you riding his cock.

Best friends do that sometimes…right?

________________________________

“So have you guys fucked yet?” Elain asks as she plops down on the couch next to you, making you nearly choke on your wine.

It was your turn to host so-called “girl’s night” that Feyre and Mor insist on having every month, so you’re sitting in your living room with all three of the Archeron sisters, along with Mor and Amren, drinking wine and chatting about nothing in particular.

You turn to look at the quietest Archeron sister, eyes wide in disbelief at her question.

“I’m sorry?” you question, raising a brow at her as she smiles innocently at you.

“You and Az,” she clarifies nonchalantly, pouring herself another glass of white wine as she speaks, “have you guys finally gotten over yourselves and decided to confess your feelings and fuck?”

Elain is the last person in the room that you’d expect a question like that from, especially considering she’s the only one in the room with a history with your roommate. The two of them hooked up for a month or two last year, right before she met the love of her life, Lucien. There were no hard feelings between the two of them, but it was still an unexpected question coming from her.

“Okay, you’re the second sister who’s asked me almost the same exact question about Az this week.” you say with narrowed eyes, shooting both Elain and Nesta glares as they smirk at you. “There’s nothing going on between us and there never will be. End of story.”

Your voice is firm, but that doesn’t stop the strange feeling that spreads across your chest as you speak.

“Oh come on!” Mor calls out, shaking her head at you. “You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that you feel nothing for him at all. I see the way the two of you look at each other and how you shamelessly flirt all the damn time.”

“I don’t feel anything for him, I swear.” you retort quickly, trying to push your feelings down as they threaten to bubble over. “Even if I did feel anything for him, he doesn’t feel anything for me, so it doesn’t matter.”

Silence falls over the room as everyone exchanges knowing glances, making you groan as you feel out of the loop.

“Why are you all looking at each other like that?” you huff, a frown pulling your lips down as you take another sip of your wine.

“You really think that Azriel doesn't have feelings for you?” Feyre questions, making your frown deepen as you shake your head again.

“You’re surely blind then, girl.” Amren calls out casually, shaking her head at you with slight disappointment. “That male is in love with you.”

“N–No he is not!” you nearly shriek, cheeks flushing at her words. “He is not in love with me! Like I’ve said before, we’re best friends, that’s all.”

Unconvinced murmurs spread through the room as you speak, making you laugh nervously.

“Can we just–just drop it? I don’t wanna talk about Az anymore.” you ask finally, reaching for the remote on the coffee table, “We’re supposed to be watching that stupid dating show and taking shots every time someone cries for no good reason, so let’s do that instead.”

Nobody argues with you as you fumble with the remote, but exchange more knowing glances before continuing the night without another word about your roommate.

After four episodes of the cheesy dating show Mor had picked out to make fun of, everyone decides to call it a night, leaving you alone in the silence of your apartment. You know Azriel will be home from Cassian’s apartment soon, so you make quick work of cleaning up the living room so you can sneak into your room before he arrives.

Unfortunately, the door to the apartment swings open and closed as you’re putting the last wine glass into the dishwasher. You look up to see a very annoyed Azriel standing in the middle of the living room, running his fingers through his hair as he sighs loudly.

“Hey,” you say softly, frowning as you take in the exasperated expression on his face. “Are you alright?”

The harsh lines on his face soften slightly when he looks up at you, a frown mirroring your own replacing the scowl that he had before.

“Yeah–Yeah, I’m fine.” he replies, shaking his head quickly. “Cass and Nes just need to keep their noses out of my business is all.”

“Oh? Are they very invested in your sex life too?” you say, forcing a teasing smile on your face.

“Yes, it’s fucking annoying.” he groans while striding into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge, “I’m sure they say the same shit to you, I’m tired of them trying to push this fucking ridiculous idea of me asking you out. It’s getting old, they should know that’s never happening.”

Fuck.

Your smile falters for a millisecond before you let out a forced laugh, shaking your head as you ignore the way your heart sinks at his words. You knew he wasn’t interested, but he seems absolutely repulsed by the idea of asking you out.

Is the idea of being in a relationship with you that disgusting?

“Yeah–That will definitely never happen.” you reply, your voice sounding a lot sadder than you’d planned. You point your gaze to your phone in your hand, pretending to check the time as you blink back a tear that threatened to spill at his reaction before taking a step towards your room. “I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight Az,” you say without looking up at the male once.

You close the bedroom door behind you and throw yourself on your bed without a second thought, letting your tears finally spill down your cheeks as you tug the comforter over your body.

If you weren’t thinking about finally letting your little crush on your roommate go before, you definitely are now.

________________________________

The environment in your apartment flips on its head after that night, mainly because you forced it to change. While laying in bed crying yourself to sleep after hearing his disgust, you’d decided that you wouldn’t allow yourself to get caught up on Azriel anymore, that you wouldn’t let yourself flirt with him constantly or even let yourself touch him because it would only complicate things more.

So you’ve been keeping to yourself, not spending any time in the shared spaces of the apartment, and avoiding him unless absolutely necessary.

Azriel always seems halfway offended when you shy away from his touch now, something like hurt swimming in his eyes when you don’t feed into his flirtation, but that’s not something you should worry about anymore, so you don’t let yourself think about it.

Everyone around you is extremely worried about your well-being, as you haven’t shown interest in going to parties or dinner or doing anything with the group in the last few weeks. Little do they know, you’ve been avoiding them for two reasons; because you don’t want anyone to ask about Azriel again and because you don’t want to put yourself in the predicament of getting drunk enough to flirt with him again.

Unfortunately for you, Nesta dragged you across the hall to their apartment tonight, insisting that you come spend some time with everyone instead of holing up in your bedroom like you have been every night. You let her drag you over to their apartment, mainly because your hurt has fizzled into anger now, so you’re okay with getting tipsy tonight to dull the sizzling irritation.

After three too many seltzers and a few slices of pizza, you’re feeling less annoyed by your roommate’s presence. You’re sitting on one of the couches in Nesta’s apartment with the Archeron sisters and Lucien, giggling about anything and everything with the females while Lucien busies himself on his phone and massaging Elain’s scalp as she lays against his chest. Cassian and Azriel are on the adjacent couch, while Rhys, Mor and Amren are carrying on at the kitchen island in a heated argument about nothing in particular.

“So, Y/N.” Feyre starts after taking a long sip of her white wine. “What have you been up to? It feels like we haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“Oh, don’t even start with her.” Nesta groans, shooting a glare in your direction, “she won’t even tell me, her girl best friend, what’s been up her ass lately.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times, Nes, I’m fine! I’ve just–just been trying to expand my horizons lately,” you say halfheartedly, slightly cowering under your best friend’s glare. “Just been trying new things, I even went on a date last night.”

“What?” all three sisters say in unison, eyes wide as they stare at you sitting between them.

“With who?” Feyre questions, and you realize that all other conversation in the room has stopped and all eyes are on you now.

“It’s not that big of a deal, guys–”

“With who?” Nesta repeats, silver eyes narrowed as she stares you down.

“E–Eris Vanserra.” you murmur, only loud enough for the sisters to hear clearly, a blush spreading across your face as you speak.

“Did you just say Eris Vanserra?” Cassian questions from the other couch, staring at you expectantly.

You can feel Azriel’s eyes boring holes into you from next to Cassian with his gaze, which makes sense considering you went on a date with a male that he’s hated for years. Little do they know, you two had a great time but decided it would just be a one-time thing due to some differences in relationship expectations, so things ended swiftly after you hooked up.

“I did,” you say with a smirk, finally sliding your gaze to Azriel for just a moment, who seems extremely annoyed by your revelation, “Seems like going on a date with me isn’t a fucking ridiculous and repulsive idea to every male out there.” You turn back to the sisters, trying your hardest to avoid seeing how Azriel reacts to your snide remark, opting to describe the date in detail for the girls instead of looking at him.

You successfully avoid any interaction with Azriel throughout the rest of the evening, though you feel his gaze on you multiple times. Eventually, the night dies down and you decide to head back to your apartment, in desperate need of some good rest. You hug your friends and promise you won’t disappear for so long anymore, knowing that Nesta will drag you out of your bedroom by the hair if you even try.

You finally make it to your bed a little after midnight, cozying into the covers as you try to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest that feels a little too similar to yearning for your comfort as you attempt to fall asleep.

________________________________

Azriel can’t sleep. Again.

And it’s because of you. Again.

He’s not plagued with horny thoughts about you this time, but he truthfully wishes he was. It would be better than whatever this feeling was that was overtaking his chest. Every time he thinks back to the look on your face after your remark about going on a date with you being a fucking ridiculous and repulsive idea, his heart threatens to squeeze itself to death in his chest. He can’t shake the image of your pain-filled eyes, can’t shake the thought of how you’ve avoided him at all costs since he made that remark all those weeks ago.

He knows he fucked up, knows he hurt you in a way that he’s unsure how to fix right now, but he knows that he has to win your trust back somehow.

________________________________

A week later, Azriel is leaning over the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cereal at 10pm when he hears the apartment door slam shut, followed by a sniffle and a stifled sob.

Before he can stand up straight, you round the corner to the kitchen a small gasp falling from your lips when you see him standing there, fucking shirtless and too sexy, like he’s mocking you for another failed date.

“S–Sorry, I didn’t hear you in here.” you say when you look up at him.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mean to scare you.” he chuckles dryly, taking you in as you stand frozen in front of him. You’re wearing a satin emerald green cocktail dress that hugs your curves in the best way possible and black heels that make your legs look like they go on for days, your hair is mussed now, but he can tell that it was perfectly curled and styled before you left, along with your smudged mascara and worn-off lipstick. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, the remnants of tears pricking the corners of them as you try to blink them away. “Are–Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright.” you say, finally brushing past him to grab a glass from the cabinet before filling it with water. “Just another shitty date.”

“With Eris?” he questions angrily, shaking his head. “I swear, I’ll kick his ass–”

“No–Not with Eris. We broke things off after that first date.” you say with a humorless laugh before taking a sip of water, “It was some other guy that I thought would be nice, but he tried to fuck me before taking me out and got really–really fucking rude after I told him no, so I left. I hate stupid, one-and-done hookups like that.” you sigh before muttering under your breath, “Guess finding a nice guy who wants to actually go on a date with me without me putting out is a ridiculous idea.”

“Well, they’re all fucking stupid if they say they don’t want to date you.” Azriel mutters, rolling his eyes at the thought of someone turning you down when you went out looking like that. “Can’t believe some stupid fucker would see you turn up to his place looking like that and decide that he doesn’t want to show you off to the world.”

“Az–”

“I’m serious, Y/N!” he all but yells, brow furrowing as he looks you over again. “You look beautiful even after crying half your makeup off, I can’t imagine how good you looked when he first saw you.”

“You don’t have to flatter me out of pity, I know you don’t find me attractive, Az.” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the male as he takes a step towards you.

“Who ever said I didn’t find you attractive?” he says, his voice dropping an octave as he reaches for your chin to make you look up at him. “Just because I fucked up all those weeks ago and said the idea of asking you on a date was ridiculous when I was angry and drunk doesn’t mean anything, I still find you so fucking attractive.”

“Azriel,” you warn, voice shaky as your mind races. Everything is happening so fast that you can’t truly process what he just said. “D–Don’t…”

“Don’t what, sweetheart?” he retorts, careful not to touch you anywhere else as he tries to think of how to navigate this situation, whether he should get on his knees to beg for your forgiveness or if he should just take you in his arms and kiss you until you forgive him.

Your knees buckle at the nickname, one that you haven’t heard from him in so long. Usually, he only calls you that when you’re both tipsy and feeling extra flirtatious, but you know he’s stone-cold sober right now, making it all the more intriguing. In your mind, you’re convinced he still truly thinks the idea of going on a date with you is ridiculous, but he did just admit to finding you attractive, which makes you more turned on than it ever should.

Oh, fuck it.

Without a second thought, you stand on your toes to lean up into him, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down for a heated kiss. Azriel almost stumbles away when your lips press to his, but his hands fall to your waist to steady himself as you deepen the kiss. His mind is buzzing as your tongue slips out, teasing his lower lip before biting it between kisses. After a few seconds, Azriel pulls away, panting slightly as he looks down at you with wild eyes.

“I–I, what are you doing, sweetheart?” he questions in a hushed tone.

“I think I need you, Az.” you say desperately, a slight pout on your face as you stare up at the male.

“But, you were just complaining about how you hate hookups.” he murmurs as you stand on your toes in an attempt to reach his lips again.

As much as he wants to take you right here and right now, he doesn’t want it to be because of an emotional tirade on your part.

You know it’s fucked up that you’re so turned on for your roommate right now, especially after getting mad at the male who tried to fuck you earlier, but you don’t care. You don’t want anything or anyone but him right now, despite your clouded emotions and any hurt you still carry for the male in front of you.

“Is this just a hookup to you?” you retort before shaking your head to cut him off before he can speak, “A–Actually, don’t answer that right now. I just know that I need you right now. I don’t care if you hate me or however you feel about me.”

“Gods, I do want you.” he murmurs, pulling you up for a quick kiss. “But I need you to tell me that you want me right now.”

“I want you, Az. I need you.” you say against his lips, “I–I’m yours tonight if you’ll have me. No strings attached tonight, I just–just need you. I’ll never mention this again if you don’t want me to.”

Something snaps in Azriel then and he can’t hold back anymore. He grabs your hips then, pulling you up to sit you on top of the kitchen island with your legs wrapped around his waist. The kiss he pulls you into is desperate and hot, your tongues and teeth clashing as his hands hastily push your dress up to your waist, revealing the black lace thong underneath. His hand glides between your thighs, fingertips grazing over the lace to feel the heat already pooling at your core.

“Fuck, love.” he murmurs against your lips, “You’re so wet, aren’t you?”

“Y–Yes,” you squeak out, hips bucking involuntarily against his hand. “So–So wet for you, Az.”

“Yeah? Just for me?” he teases, a smirk growing on his face as he circles your clit through the fabric, “Want me to taste this sweet cunt and make you cum on my tongue?”

You breathe in a ragged breath at his crude words, nodding feverishly at him as your mind spins at the sudden change in his demeanor. He just chuckles then, pulling your hips to the edge of the counter while also pushing your thong to the side to give him a full view of your glistening core as he shifts to his knees. Azriel mutters something under his breath then, two fingers teasing your clit before licking a stripe up your cunt, making you gasp loudly.

“F–Fuck!” you whine, hand falling to his head as he eats you out like a man starved with loud smacking of his lips to match.

“You like that, baby?” he says when he pulls away momentarily, positioning your legs over his shoulders before sliding a finger into your heat. “I bet those other stupid fuckers didn’t eat you out like this, did they?”

“I–I, they never did, n–never have.” you gasp, grinding your hips against his face when he dives back in with a chuckle.

“What a shame, a cunt this pretty deserves to be devoured at any possible time.” he murmurs against your slick skin, slipping another finger in, “Want you to cum all over my face before I even get a chance to fuck you tonight, you deserve it, love.”

“‘M already–already fucking close, f–feels so good.” you retort, tugging at his hair as he pumps three fingers into your cunt while focusing his tongue on your throbbing clit, pulling moans out of you in a way you didn’t know was possible until now.

Azriel only hums against your clit, letting his fingers set a brutal pace inside you as he licks and sucks on your sensitive bundle of nerves. He wraps an arm around your waist then, pulling you close to him to stabilize your squirming body as he continues his assault on your core.

“Such a good girl with such a sweet little cunt,” he praises, gazing up at you while he licks at you once more, “Can’t believe I’ve never gotten to taste you before, don’t know if I’ll be able to share after this, love. You’re making the prettiest noises for me and I don’t want anyone else to hear them.”

“Then d–don’t share, o–oh fuck!” you whimper, thighs quaking as you feel your orgasm approaching.

“Let me claim your pussy, sweetheart. C’mon, make a mess of my tongue and fingers.” he coaxes between licks, three fingers pressing into you quickly as you cry out loudly, “That’s it, baby. Yeah, I know, I know. Let go, love.”

Your vision blacks momentarily when you reach your peak, chanting his name loudly as he fingers you through your orgasm, cooing softly while pressing kisses to your inner thighs when you finally come down from your high.

There’s a smirk plastered on Azriel’s face when he finally rises from his knees, lips glistening with your slick while he continues to slowly pump his fingers into you. Your mouth gapes slightly when his thumb presses into your overly-sensitive clit, and you reach for his wrist to stop him as overstimulation wracks your body.

“You did so good, sweetheart.” he coos, ignoring your silent protest for him to remove his fingers as he leans down to steal your lips in a kiss. “So good for me.”

“A–Az, I–I can’t.” you whine, bucking your hips when his thumb brushes your clit again.

“You want me to stop?” he questions, though he already knows the real answer.

“I–I want you to fuck me.” you plead, shaking your head to cut him off before he gives you a smart reply about fucking you with his fingers. “Want your cock, please.”

“How could I say no when you ask so sweetly?” he coos, finally pulling his fingers from your dripping heat to pull your body flush with his. “Let’s go to my room, yeah?”

“Yes, sir.” you say jokingly, but the nickname triggers something in Azriel as he wraps your legs around his waist to carry you to his room, a low growl ripping from his throat.

“Don’t call me that if you can’t handle what will come after.” he warns, eyes dark as he pushes through the door to his bedroom.

“What if I can handle it, sir?” you tease, biting your lip as you look up at him with wide, doe eyes.

“Oh, you’re in for it now, sweetheart.” he growls, tossing you into the middle of his bed, “Strip for me, baby.”

Both of you make quick work of stripping out of your clothes, desire thick in the air as you make desperate glances at each other. After tossing your underwear and dress to the side, you crawl on your hands and knees to the edge of the bed in front of him. You reach your hand out for his cock once it springs free from his boxers, ignoring the nervous feeling in your chest when you see how large he is.

“So–So big,” you remark, eyes wide as you stare at it.

Your eyes meet his as you lean into his cock, eager to wrap your lips around the leaking, red tip, but his hand in your hair holds you back before you take it into your mouth.

“As much as I would love to see you choke and cry with your pretty lips around my cock, we’ll save that for another time. I need to fuck you, right now.” he says in a low voice, pupils blown with lust as he tugs you up to be face-to-face with him. “Is that alright with you, sweetheart? Can I fuck you senseless with my big cock?”

“Y–Yes, sir.” you say, nodding desperately at him.

“Good girl, now lay back on the pillows for me.” he instructs, following you onto the bed to kneel between your spread legs.

One of his large hands rests on your inner thigh while the other grasps his thick length, tugging on it lightly as he guides himself to your entrance. There’s a beat of hesitation as he slides his tip along your dripping folds, and he looks up at you for a moment.

“I’m–I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, please–please Az. Just fuck me.” you beg, hips canting up into his to make him groan loudly.

“I’m clean, too. You sure about this though, sweetheart?” he questions, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation but finding none, “Because once I start, I’m not gonna be nice, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give up this sweet cunt, you might be mine forever once I fuck you.”

“Yes–fuck, yes. I’m all yours, sir.” you say breathlessly, a pout on your lips as you beg.

“Alright, sweetheart. Now be a good girl, stay still and take what I give you, alright?” he retorts, gripping your hip as he finally slides into you with a groan. “Fuck, that’s so good, baby.”

Your mind goes blank when he bottoms out, feeling so fucking full as his cock nudges against your cervix at the perfect angle. A strangled moan falls from your lips when he starts to move, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as pleasure nearly blinds you.

“Look at you, such a good little slut.” he teases as he picks up the pace. “Already crying for me, sweetheart? Is my cock that good?”

“Y–Yes, so fucking big, sir. F–Feel so good, so–so full.” you whine, eyes squeezing shut with tears streaming down your cheeks as he continues to pound into you.

“That’s it, your tight cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?” he grunts, one hand falling from your hip to wrap around your throat experimentally, fingers splayed over the soft skin gently for now.

Your eyes snap open at the feeling of his hand around your neck, looking at him with wide eyes as he smirks down at you mischievously. He gives your throat a squeeze then, making you moan wildly at the feeling of your breathing being constricted and relinquishing control to him. There’s a feral look in his eye at your reaction, making him chuckle while his hips connect with yours roughly.

“Ohh, look at that.” he purrs mockingly, letting his hand squeeze around your throat a little tighter now. “You like being choked don’t you?” he asks, earning a subtle nod from you, “You love it when I’m in control like this, huh? You like it when I hold you down and make you take everything I give you and take your breath away?”

“Y–Yes! Fuck, I love it so much, sir.” you reply eagerly, hips bucking up to meet his as your fingers find your clit. “I–I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, s–sir.”

“Go ahead and cum on my cock, love.” he growls, his length pumping into you relentlessly. “I’m not gonna stop until I cum deep in you, though. Gonna let you milk my cock like a good little whore and then fill you with my cum, alright?”

You can only nod, mind blank once again as your walls flutter around him while he mutters degrading yet praising things to you as he continues to bully his cock deep into you. After this second orgasm of the night, you’re on such a high that you can’t think straight anymore, only babbling nonsense falls from your lips as Azriel’s groans and the smell of your arousal fills the air.

“I’m close, sweetheart.” Azriel warns finally, pushing your own hand away from your clit to rub circles around it with the hand that’s not wrapped around your neck. “Gonna cum with me, baby?”

“Y–Yes, gonna cum on your cock, sir.” you moan, the first coherent sentence you’ve said in a few minutes, feeling that familiar coil winding in your gut once again. “C–Cum in me, please.”

That’s all the encouragement Azriel needs before he’s reaching his own high, cock fully seated in you as his hips stutter. He mutters sweet words to you under his breath as you cum with him, bodies as close together as they can be without melting into each other.

It takes Azriel a few minutes to collect himself, panting against your skin as he finally releases you from his hold and rolls off of you. He looks to you then, seeing a blissful smile plastered on your face as your eyes are halfway closed, euphoria mixing with exhaustion as you catch your breath.

“Hi, sweetheart. You did so good for me, such a good girl.” he mumbles to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead as you murmur to him under your breath. “Gonna go get some stuff to clean you up, alright?”

You nod tiredly at him, watching as he slides some boxers before leaving the room. He returns only a minute later with a glass of water, a wet washcloth and a makeup remover wipe. He rummages through a dresser drawer for a sleep shirt as well, setting it next to you on the bed. Your heart flutters as he sits down on the edge of the bed, leaning over to help you sit up.

“Drink for me, sweetheart.” he coaxes, smiling down at you while holding the cup of water to your lips.

You almost finish the entire glass before you pull away and he sets it on the bedside table, then gets to work wiping off your thighs. He switches the washcloth out for the makeup wipe once he’s satisfied, reaching up to clean off your face.

“I can take my makeup off, Az.” you giggle, trying to reach for the makeup wipe but he pulls it out of your reach.

“No, no. Let me.” he insists, wiping gently at your cheeks, lips and eyes to get the remnants of your makeup that wasn’t wiped away off.

You sit up fully after he finishes, reaching for the shirt he’d sat next to you in order to slide it over your body. He walks to the other side of the bed after that, pulling himself under the covers as you turn to look at him with wide eyes.

“What?” he questions, brow furrowed as you stare at him with a sad look in your eyes.

“Can–Can I stay in here with you tonight?” you ask meekly, afraid of how he might react.

“Of course, why would I kick you out, love?” he says gently, pulling the comforter up to invite you to cuddle with him. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get some rest, okay?”

You smile weakly at him before climbing up to his side, letting his arm fall around your waist as you rest your head on his chest while he presses a kiss to your forehead. You know you should be worried about what’s to come tomorrow, but in the moment, while sitting in Azriel’s warm embrace, you couldn’t care less.

________________________________

Knock, knock, knock.

The most peaceful sleep Azriel has had in months is interrupted by an incessant knocking on the front door of the apartment. He groans loudly before opening his eyes while rolling over, eyes falling onto your sleeping form.

His heart skips a beat at the sight of you snuggled into his comforter, chest rising and falling steadily as you sleep peacefully in his fucking bed. Warmth fills his chest as he admires you, but is soon interrupted by another annoying knock on the front door. He leans down then, pressing a kiss to your temple that makes you giggle softly in your sleep, before sneaking out of the bed to slip a pair of sweats on to open the door.

The front door swings open to reveal Nesta and Cassian on the other side, both with amused expressions on their faces and bags filled with food in their hands.

“What do you guys want?” Azriel questions, narrowing his eyes on the couple.

Nesta shoulders past him, pushing into the apartment to make her way into the kitchen to rummage through the bags of food at the kitchen island.

“Excuse you,” Azriel scoffs, internally cringing as his mind flashes back to what he’d done on that very counter the night before. “Who said you could just barge in here like this?”

“It’s Saturday morning, we always have breakfast with you guys and neither you or your roommate were answering your phones, so we thought we’d just come over.” Nesta says casually. “Where is Y/N anyways?”

“Sleeping.” Azriel says too quickly, panic spreading through his chest as he watches the couple make themselves at home, knowing that you’ll likely wake up soon and have to face them as you walk out of his bedroom. “Why don’t I just let you know when she wakes up and you guys can just come back when we’re ready?”

“Sleeping? Where?” Cassian says incredulously, glancing at Y/N’s bedroom, noting the open door and empty, perfectly made bed before realization falls over his face. “No fucking way.”

“Cassian, I swear to the fucking Gods–”

“What? What just happened?” Nesta questions, finally looking up from the counter and to Azriel, noting his mussed hair and the ghost of a lipstick stain on the corner of his jaw. “Holy fuck. You guys finally did it.”

“Can you both shut the fuck up?” Azriel interjects, a frown etched onto his face as he glares at the couple. “Yes, we fucked. It was a heat of the moment thing and–and we haven’t really discussed what happens next. So I’d appreciate if neither of you were here when she wakes up so I can actually say what I need to say without you two fuckers staring at me expectantly.”

“Are you finally gonna confess that you’ve been in love with her since you first met her and that you can’t stand the thought of her being with anyone else but you?” Cassian questions with a knowing smirk, earning a withering glare from Azriel. “What? Those are your drunken words, not mine!”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m going to say yet, but I know that you both need to get out of here.” he hisses, starting to usher the couple out. “Breakfast is on me today, repayment for bailing on you guys, okay? Just request me the money and get the hell out of here. You two will be the first to know about what happens, I’m sure.”

Both Cassian and Nesta make their way out of the apartment begrudgingly, leaving Azriel alone to walk back to his bedroom. You’re still asleep when he walks in, but stir slightly when he closes the door and slides under the covers next to you. Your eyes flutter open only moments after he presses his body against yours, your brow furrows as you take in your surroundings, obviously forgetting what happened last night in your post-sleep haze. Eventually, you look over to him, an expression somewhere between a frown and a half-smile on your face.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, giving you space to sit up in the bed as you stretch your limbs and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Morning,” you say with a tired smile, a blush creeping up on your cheeks as you look over at him. “I–I almost forgot about last night.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles, smiling down at you adoringly, “I definitely didn’t.”

You’re silent for a moment, mind whirring as you think of what to say to him. Your chest feels like it’s going to cave in at the thought of Az wanting to continue being your fuck-buddy, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle being sexually involved without romantic involvement with him. It would fuel your crush way too fucking much. You tell yourself that you just need to lie to his face and say that it was a mistake, that it didn’t mean anything, but he speaks before you get a chance to let your word vomit come out.

“Okay, okay. I can see you internally freaking out already.” Azriel chuckles nervously, fully sitting up in the bed before reaching out to cup your cheek and get your attention. You look up at him and his hazel eyes are swimming with a mix of wonder and nervousness. “Let’s talk about it, okay? I, for one, had a really good time last night.”

“I–I did too.” you stammer, heart pounding against your ribs as your stomach churns. “B–But I can’t do it again.”

“And why is that?” he questions, a frown pulling his lips down.

“Because I know you don’t want anything out of this, I–I know you wouldn’t want to be involved with me romantically and–and I can’t handle that.” you say, forcing yourself to look away from him, eyes focused on the comforter in front of you instead.

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s not want at all.” he starts, shaking his head rapidly. “I want to be involved with you romantically, I was drunk and upset when I said that it would be a ridiculous idea to ask you out. I only said that because I thought you didn’t want me. I didn’t know you felt the same and was trying to protect myself. But–But now that I know you feel the same and that I hurt you by saying that, I’ll work my ass off every day to prove to you that this is not some meaningless fooling around and that I need you in my life. That I need to wake up next to you every morning and that I think I might’ve been falling for you since I met you in all honesty. I need you to know that you mean so much to me and I’m not just here for some quick fuck, okay?”

“I–I,” you stammer, at a loss for words at his confession. “You better not be lying to me, Azriel. Because I think I’ve been falling for you for just as long.”

“Oh thank the fucking Gods.” he sighs, finally leaning down to pull you in for a sweet kiss. “I promise to prove to you every day that I’m not lying, that I’m in it for the long haul.”

You giggle against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him as close to you as possible, heart filling so fucking full as his warm lips press against yours.

“Was I dreaming earlier or did I hear someone pounding on the door a little bit ago?” you question when you pull away from the very long-winded kiss.

“It was Nes and Cass coming here for Saturday breakfast, but I told them to fuck off.” Azriel replies with a chuckle.

“Do you think we should go tell them what happened?” you ask, eyes wide as you think of your friends finding out about you sleeping in Azriel’s bed without you knowing.

“I think they’ll get the memo if we take the day to spend by ourselves, don’t you?” he retorts, peppering soft kisses down your neck.

“I definitely agree,” you giggle, leaning into his embrace, “I don’t know if I wanna leave this bed today.”

“I definitely agree.” Azriel mimics, laying down on the bed and pulling you up to straddle his waist. “I have just a few things I’d like to do instead of visiting with them.”

tags (add yourself here!!): @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @Bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout @Buckingforbuckybarnes @thefandomplace @feyretopia @mad-hatters-lover @kissesfromnovalie @mulledwinetea @saltedcoffeescotch @mrsjna @chillymountsjess @azriels-human @messageforthesmallestman @delphinefour04 @kbear8863 @secretsicanthideanymore @randomgurl2326 @shushsstuff @Caitm1 @eeniemeenie @esahintzkanen @lafawndiaries @homeslices @juliebluehufflepuff @portkeytomyworld @ashjade19 @wildfloweroutlaw @lilah-asteria @dreamsandatars24 @korebringerofded

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel fanfic

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lordprettyflackotara · 2 months ago

Text

what a heavenly way to die || the proxies

‘forever is in your eyes, but forever ain’t half the time’

sum: after being stranded in the middle of a snow storm, you’re forced to take shelter with masky, hoodie, and toby. you need to stay warm, by any means necessary

tw:SMUT, FILTHY, LONG, AGGRESSIVE SMUT, foursome kinda? idk?, sub!reader, soft dom!masky, hard dom!hoodie, sub!toby, gun play, overstimulation, exhibitionism, lowkey throat fucking, praise, humiliation, power dynamics lowkey do be in place

a/n: FOR ALL OF MY OG HITCHHIKER BABIES <3

“But I don’t wanna wear gloves!”

“Toby if you don’t wear gloves, your fingers are gonna fall off.”

Masky’s voice was hoarse, his patience thinning the longer he walked. Not even a fresh cigarette could make this situation any better. Only some shit like this would happen to him.

On the way back from an assignment the car ran out of gas, courtesy of allowing Hoodie to drive for more than five minutes. Now with the tank on E, the four of you were stranded in the middle of no where. Snow fell from the sky, coating each of you more and more by the second. Hoodie seemed perfectly content with his offense, minus the occasional shiver. Toby couldn’t comprehend the need to wear so many layers, the kid practically fighting for the right to freeze to death. Masky found himself silently regretting his choice of a mask, his gaze landing on you.

Normally he discounted your presence, you being the newest member of the group. But he’d be lying to himself if he shrugged you off. Although you had only been around for a few years now, for such a tiny little thing you sure pulled your weight. He never thought much of you at first, your small stature and loud mouth telling him everything he could ever want to know. But over the years of enslavement together you simmered down, sometimes more quiet than Hoodie. Masky could deal with his silence, having been dragged into this shit show by his hand.

But you? He couldn’t handle it.

His dark gaze landed on you, looming over your shaking form like a dark cloud. You always wore skimpy clothing, even if not practical. This happened to be one of those times, your skirt riding up your thighs and knee high socks failing to conceal the goosebumps that littered your skin. “Cold, kid?” Masky asked, ignoring his own shaky fingertips as he took a drag of his cigarette. The four of you had been hiking for what felt like hours, more and more of your limbs becoming numb by the second. “T-Told ya life wasn’t a f-fashion show,” Toby chimed in, clearly enjoying the weather.

“Can it, you ticking time bomb,” Masky interjected, frowning. He noted the way you avoided his gaze, as if you were afraid of judgment. But why? You had never given a shit about his opinion before. He grunted to himself as he shrugged off his signature mustard jacket, forcefully shoving it on your shoulders.

“But you’ll freeze-”

“Put it on and don’t bitch about it.”

His voice was stern and full of authority, threatening you to question it. His mask hid his satisfied expression as he watched you put it on. “Any plans here boss? Or do we plan on camping out here?” Hoodie asked sarcastically. It was in moments like these Masky was thankful the two of them wore mask, his distain written all over his face. “We just need to keep heading south like boss ordered,” Masky huffed, blowing cigarette smoke out into the cold night air. Tensions were arising quickly, the freezing cold fizzling out any trust that had been formed.

“Head south? Are you on crack or delusional? Toby’s fingers are so frost bitten they’re about to snap off and the kid is so fuckin cold i’m surprised she’s able to stand at all,” Hoodie barked, his words laced with venom. Masky didn’t like to go off schedule. He didn’t like to piss off The Operator. If it were him and him alone, he’d continue walking south until he either made it or The Operator himself found him. However, as his eyes raked in the sight of his companions, he realized Hoodie was right.

“Fine, we’ll have a sleepover. Follow me. I saw smoke over this way,” Masky agreed reluctantly, tossing his cigarette bud carelessly onto the ground. Toby began to yap about Masky being a litter bug, earning him a knock upside the head from Hoodie. The silent proxy gritted his teeth, annoyed with Masky neglecting to tend to them sooner.

“You saw signs of civilization and just now told us? How long would you have let us walk before we fuckin froze to death?” Hoodie questioned, his gaze so deadly Masky could feel holes burning into his back. You awkwardly tugged his jacket closer to you, your breath shallow. “He’s k-kinda right, kinda an asshole move,” You said softly, completely exhausted from marching in a borderline snow storm. Masky’s gaze softened for a moment, before noticing Toby had taken off his gloves. “We need to get going before this dipshit loses his fingers,” Masky grumbled, shrugging off the issue at hand. The three of you trailed behind him, satisfaction washing over you as a cabin came into sight.

You weren’t an advocate for death, but you quite literally would’ve killed someone for a warm spot in that cabin. The four of you burst inside, scanning the room for any sign of human life. None of you could deny your eagerness to be warm. A small fire crackled in the background in the fireplace, providing a soft orange glow to the room. Masky gestured Toby to follow him upstairs, leaving you and Hoodie to scope out the remainder of the first floor. “Any guesses on why it’s abandoned like this?” You asked the taller proxy, avoiding his lingering gaze. Hoodie tended to be a bit unsettling sometimes, whether he meant to be or not.

“My guess? Some rich couple cut their honeymoon short and hauled ass once they saw the forecast,” Hoodie said blandly, shrugging off his ski mask. It had been a while since you had seen his face, his stubble grown out more than you could remember. “Good for us then,” You mumbled, averting your eyes. You stared at the ground so much you tended to forget what your fellow proxies faces looked like. Footsteps trampling down the stairs regained your attention, your head snapping in the direction. “Good news, place is ours. Bad news, the only heat source is that lovely fireplace right there,” Masky said, sitting down in front of the small couch. The three of you followed his lead, crowding around the tiny fireplace.

“This is your grand plan?” Hoodie questioned, his distrust visible on his face with his mask off. Masky fought the urge to light another cigarette, bringing his knees to his chest. “The fireplace as well as our body heat is enough to survive. Unless you have a better idea, be quiet,” Masky replied dryly. Toby took the opportunity to lay his head in your lap, a place he had been time and time again. You had taken on this role long ago, stroking his chestnut hair until the unpredictable ticking time bomb fell asleep. Tonight was no exception, even as you settled in next to Masky.

You ignored the ever growing tension that sprouted with each second as your arms touched, the smell of his cologne mixed with tobacco flooding your nostrils. Tensions were ever growing as your arm brushed against his, your energies so magnetic it made you unmistakably nervous. Nervous. You never felt nervous in any other situation. But around Masky? Especially close like this? You might as well have been a flirty high school girl. Hoodie ignored the three of you, jumping over the arm of the couch and making himself comfortable. He was always reserved like that, refusing to touch any of you unless he was back handing Toby. The couch squeaked under his weight, the squeaks continuing until the older proxy got settled.

You continued to play with Toby’s hair, swirling your fingers around his scalp. “Warm enough kid?” Masky asked, his voice more rough than usual. You tried to avoid staring, noticing him taking off his mask out of the corner of your eye. You wanted nothing more than to soak in his features, especially since his mask was practically glued to his face a majority of the time. Instead you forced yourself gaze to remain forward, watching the fire flicker. “I suppose,” You mumbled, catching a knot in Toby’s hair. You refrained from cringing as you brushed it through with your fingers, thankful he couldn’t feel pain as he slept soundly. The sound of Hoodie’s soft snores put Masky a little more at ease, his next words something he wouldn’t admit to the other two men next to you.

“You were right about earlier. I was an asshole, I should’ve had us head here to begin with,” Masky admitted timidly. He didn’t like being the leader, that role automatically assigned to him like it was his birth right. What he didn’t like even more than that, was admitting that he was wrong. He expected ridicule, which he would’ve gotten if you were Hoodie or Toby. But instead you laid your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against the fabric of his sweater. “I know you were just trying to please The Operator,” You whispered. You continued playing with Toby’s hair, ensuring your hand didn’t stop. You glanced up in his direction, soaking in his thick eyebrows and awkward side burns. His chocolate eyes met yours unsurely, an eyebrow raising.

“What are you doing to me kid?” Masky grumbled, his own heart beginning to race. This was bad news, feeling this way towards you. But the orange glow against your skin had him reeling in his own skin. “You tell me boss,” You whispered back, edging your lips towards his. It caught you off guard that Masky made the first move, planting his lips against yours. His lips were as chapped as yours, his taste a recognized mixture of mint and cigarettes. You melted under his touch, eagerly kissing him back. He was intoxicating, his large hand slipping into your hair.

You could feel your core throbbing with desire, your cheeks flushing pink as you realized this. Being a proxy didn’t exactly equate a productive sex life, your body longing for the touch of another human. You couldn’t get enough of his lips, his desperation. It was just as passionate as yours, both of you longing for human compassion. You shuddered as his large hand slithered down to your thigh, your legs parting instantly. His cold fingertips trailed up your sensitive skin, tracing your skin teasingly. You held back a soft groan, Masky eager to hear you make sinful noise for him. He was so close to your core, your body shuddering at the idea-

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Hoodies voice was sharp, abruptly interrupting your lustful daze. Love affairs between proxies was forbidden, a strict rule made clear to you by The Operator. While he gave the same speech to Kate, he knew that her feralness would unintentionally have her follow his rule to a T. You, however, were semi more mentally stable, with a knack for fashion and semi put together appearances. For the first time you saw panic across Masky’s eyes, causing you to clear your throat. “Sharing body warmth obviously, you cold Hoodie?” You asked, the lie leaving your lips before you had time to consider the repercussions. For a second you could’ve swore you saw a glimpse of Brian, a playful smirk crawling up his lips.

Your hand abandoned Toby’s hair, grabbing a handful of Hoodies coat to drag him closer to you. You managed to spare a moment of hesitation, dragging his lips to clash into yours. You were tense at first, unsure what the proxy would do. You were surprised to feel him meet your desperation all the same, the nagging realization of his similar loneliness crashing over you. Teeth clashed with teeth, his desperation resulting in a deeper kiss than you expected. You found yourself getting even more flushed, knowing Masky’s eyes were burning into yours. He took the opportunity to press his hand against your core, noting how damp your panties were already.

“You’re gonna wake the kid up,” Hoodie grunted, reluctant to pull away from your lips to begin with. Masky rubbed against your swollen slick, earning a small whimper from you. “I’m a-a-already up,” Toby said groggily, sitting up. You avoided his gaze as he soaked in the sinful sight in front him, Masky’s hand on your cunt and Hoodie’s lips mere centimeters from yours. You swallowed, your core throbbing at the idea of taking all three of them at once. After all, you had to convince yourself you weren’t lying. This entanglement was nothing more than an exchange of body heat, a way to keep warm.

Right?

You turned your head towards Toby swallowing nervously as you leaned forward to kiss him. It caught him off guard, his light grey cheeks forming a tint of pink as he matched your actions. Two sets of large hands rearranged you as you lost yourself into the kiss, your ass in the air as your skirt got flipped up. “Fuck,” Masky mumbled, his cold hand sending goosebumps across your skin. You could hear Hoodie moving on the couch, causing you to pull away from sucking on Toby’s bottom lip. The clinking of his belt fully caught your attention, your eyebrows raised. “Do you um, not wanna be warm?” You asked slowly. A pang of embarrassment shot through you, a creeping worry of his lack of desire for you arising. The taller proxy smirked, unzipping his jeans.

“I just wanna watch you get knocked down a few pegs, now go on and kiss Masky again,” Hoodie ordered, palming himself through his jeans. You turned to Masky, cheeks flushed red and heart pounding as you met his gaze. His pupils were blown with lust, his face in the softest state you had ever seen it. You met his lips eagerly, obeying Hoodies demand. Toby took the opportunity to come up behind you, his cold hands slipping under your shirt. Your hand slithered its way down to Masky’s crotch, palming his hard boner. You were satisfied to hear a small groan claw its way out of his throat, your lips eagerly swallowing it. You arched your back as Toby’s curious fingertips found their way to your breast, squeezing harshly at your perky nipples.

“N-No bra? You’re just d-d-dying to get fucked huh?” Toby snickered. Goosebumps trailed down your spine as you whimpered, nibbling on Masky’s bottom lip. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, soaking in his facial expression. “Let me suck you off,” You whispered, biting the inside of your cheek as Toby harshly twisted your left nipple. Masky seemed at a loss of words, something that rarely occurred to him. He looked over you, eyeing a mischievous Toby. “Hey kid, make yourself useful and let her ride your face,” He said, his words laced with authority. You couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread over you as Toby laid on his back, nuzzling himself between your knees.

“Sit back on his face princess,” Hoodie ordered, pulling his cock out of his boxers. Masky clenched his jaw, having momentarily forgotten Hoodie was even there. He watched your shaky hands fiddle with his belt, slowly lowering yourself onto Toby’s eager mouth. You nervously glanced down at the younger proxy, licking your dry lips. “You can uh, touch yourself you know, or something,” You offered unsurely, feeling him shove your panties to the side with his cold fingertips. Masky placed his hand on the back of your head, gently reminding you to focus. “He’ll figure it out kid, stop worryin’ so much,” Masky grumbled. You continued to focus on undressing him, whimpering as you felt Toby’s warm tongue dart in between your folds.

“This is taking way too fuckin long. Let’s speed things up shall we?” Hoodie asked, his cock already exposed and in hand. Your eyes widened as he took out his hand gun, clicking off the safety. “Get to sucking princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby continued to lap at your folds, his tongue messily flicking your clit. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Masky argued. His attention was diverted once you took him in your mouth, eagerly bobbing your head up and down on his hard cock. Hoodie smirked at your reaction, noting the way your thighs squeezed Toby’s head harder. “Look at her Mask. You think a girl like us isn’t into some freaky shit? Now shut up and enjoy it,” Hoodie snickered, stroking himself to the sight.

Toby was eager, his hand pumping his own shaft as he devoured your cunt. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, his soft groans muffled by your soaked folds. Your hips involuntarily grinded against his face, your own moans sending vibrations around Masky’s cock. The brunette tried to hide his own sinful noises, but you taking him to the base cancelled out any possibility of him being able to do so. His hand grabbed a handful of your hair, assertively guiding you up and down his cock. Hoodie couldn’t get enough of the sinful sight, your knees digging into the hard wood as you struggled to hold yourself up. He wouldn’t stop watching even if the world collapsed.

Meanwhile Masky was struggling to hold on, having spent years and years with his hand as his only companion. Your mouth was so warm and wet, your throat only making it harder to resist cumming right then and there. “Fuck kid, you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, feeling your tongue swirl around his tip. Your eyes were already flooded with tears, your gaze meeting his as you deep throated him. It was embarrassing to Masky how fast he knew he was going to cum, your sweet face only bringing him closer to the edge. Hoodie noted this as well, noticing the way Masky’s hips began slowly stuttering. A sadistic thought came to mind, one that he knew would ensure a good time for every party involved.

Your orgasm was approaching quickly, your thighs squeezing Toby’s head so tightly you were almost worried about him. “Go on princess, that’s it. Ride Toby’s face like the good whore you are,” Hoodie purred, stroking himself. He enjoyed watching your micro expressions, your mannerisms. The way your eyebrows furrowed when Toby licked you just right. Masky momentarily pulled out of your mouth, craving to hear your moans. Your spare hand was tugging at Toby’s hair, whimpers clawing their way out of your throat. “Fuck, feels so good T-Toby-” You whined, tilting your head back. Precum and saliva covered your swollen lips, your gaze meeting Masky’s. “Can I cum? Fuck, please let me cum,” You whined, struggling to contain yourself. Masky smirked at your request, briefly giving Hoodie a cocky glance.

“Go on kid, cum for us,” He cooed. Words couldn’t describe the satisfaction he felt as you came on Tobys face, your eyes rolling back and legs shaking. You planned to get off, a click from Hoodies gun ripping you away from your ride of euphoria. “I didn’t tell you to get off, did I? Keep riding princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby was still as eager as ever, his mouth gratefully accepting you as you lowered back down onto him. He lapped at your slick, devouring your cum. “Nobody’s stopping until everyone cums. That’s only fair, isn’t it?” Hoodie asked mockingly. You rolled your tongue out across your bottom lip, presenting yourself for Masky to use. “Masky, please, let me taste you,” You pleaded, struggling to stay upright. The overstimulation was making your body twitch, the brunette quick to shove himself back in your mouth.

Something about this, watching you be overstimulated and cumming, drove Masky feral.

He was more aggressive this time, pulling your hair and forcing your jaw to go slack. You whined as you struggled to keep up, saliva trailing down the sides of your mouth. “Such a good hole for me to use, fuck,” Masky groaned. He could feel himself coming closer to his orgasm, his hips stuttering as he thrust one final time down your throat. His warm seed made you gag as you struggled to keep him in your mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped his thighs, swallowing him whole. He pulled out of your mouth, watching you gulp for air. You were so pretty like this, your face fucked out and sounds nothing more than incoherent babbles. You could hear Toby’s groans growing louder as well, your thighs squeezing around his head as he came on his stomach. The three of you were spent, Toby’s tongue momentarily coming yo a pause.

The sound of Hoodies gun clicking caught all three of your attention, the taller proxy not hiding his sadistic grin. “Not all of us have cum, have we?” He asked, sending a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine. “Keep sucking princess,” He barked. His gaze landed on Toby, whose eyes were barely visible from between your thighs.

“And keep eating her out kid, I wanna see her squirm.”

949 notes · View notes

uniquethingtastemaker · 1 month ago

Text

Jade x Reader – Commit to the Bit

Summary: After escaping Scarabia and crash-landing in Monstro Lounge during Chapter 4, you form a deeper relationship with Octavinelle’s vice leader. The Reader’s bold moves pique Jade’s interest. The two are equally committed to keeping up their acts to maximize the most hilarious reactions from their friends. No matter how big the trick is they always “Commit to the Bit,” and some pranks turn into fact instead of a facade.

Word Count: 12.5k+

Author’s Note: This wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for @solxamber. I told her my idea and she became invested. It pushed me to finish this. Somehow it’s turned into this monster of a piece. I had a splendid time with this. Please comment and enjoy!

Tags: @marsinrain @solxamber idk who else to tag lol

You and Grim scream at the top of your lungs as Kalim’s flying carpet rockets past different sceneries. You hear Scarabia students shouting after you. However, no human is a match for an out-of-control, speeding carpet.

“We’re gonna hit the mirror!!” Grim shrieks.

You grip your companion as you fly through. You know you won’t slam into glass but you also don’t know where you’ll land. The two of you exit the hot desert and are flung into darkness. With no ability to see or steer, you crash into something.

You groan. Thankfully you landed on something soft. It feels like a couch.

“Grim, are you ok?” You call out.

The cat whines, “No, but I’m alive.”

“It’s better than being tortured and imprisoned in Hellabia,” you comment, before asking. “Where are we?”

Lights flick on. You wince, shielding from the unexpected brightness. A distinct voice echoes out.

“Oya, I was wondering who would be here at this time of night.”

Your head snaps up to see the tweels. A twinkle glitters in your eyes.

“Oh, thank god, it’s someone menacing!” you exclaim, “Plus, you’re in debt to us for stopping Azul’s overblot and you’ll find our situation interesting.”

You watch Jade’s eyes widen at your rapid-fire enthusiasm. Even Floyd seems momentarily lost for words. It’s not unexpected. Every time you’ve interacted with the trio, you’ve been reserved. The group seemed more trouble than they were worth. While you gravitate to interesting circumstances and people, you’ve been entertained by the overblots. It didn’t seem necessary to seek out the tweel tricksters and their con artist boss. However, your circumstances have changed.

You want revenge on Scarabia and you've fallen right into the perfect predator’s lap. This trio is vindictive and vicious. They like throwing people off for fun. They’re exactly what you need.

You haven’t sought vengeance on the other overblot students because you haven’t been directly involved. If you were, you knew you could get out of it. It was another riveting problem you needed to solve. You weren’t affected by Riddle. You don’t have magic and you’re not in Heartslabyul. For Leona, you can’t play Magical Shift. Ruggie’s magic didn’t hurt you. You didn’t make a terrible deal with Azul. You just had to get your dumb friends out of a bad situation lest you die of complaints. You weren’t worried about Ramshackle, because you had the skill to get it back. You were the one who planned Azul’s ultimate demise after all. With Scarabia though, they put you through torture. They forced you to walk across the desert. They caught you multiple times trying to escape and you’re not letting that go.

Therefore, you’re throwing away all pretenses to recruit these slippery fish folk. If anyone would be on board this ship, it would be the Octavinelle trio.

You barrel on, summarizing. “We just escaped Scarabia prison. They kidnapped us, locked us up for over a week, and forced us into inhuman slavery with the excuse of “training!” Plus, a coup is about to happen. Something’s fishy and it’s not you.”

You get up, walking toward the twin, bubbling in excitement. Before either of them can respond, another person speaks up. It’s the languid and steady voice of a businessman.

“A coup?” Azul inquires.

You glance at him and nod.

“The Scarabia students aren’t happy with Kalim’s treatment. They want Jamil to usurp him,” you briefly explain, before adding. “You know why that’s strange.”

The dorm leader gives a thoughtful hum before a group of Scarabia students burst through the door.

“We found you, thieves! There’s nowhere to run now,” one of them declares.

You step closer to Jade and retort, “Wrongful imprisonment and mistreatment of workers is a crime. We took dire measures to escape. Grim and I aren’t a part of your dorm. Jamil invited us. If you were good hosts, you’d respect the wishes of your guests and let them leave when they become uncomfortable. I have video evidence.”

The last part was a lie, but you wanted to provoke them. You pull out your phone and wave it around. You’re curious to see how the twins will react.

One hot-blooded student lunges for your device. You “yelp,” jumping behind the quieter twin. In a flash, Jade has their wrist in a crushing hold.

“When it comes to recording illegal activity, as long as the person recording does not interfere, it’s submissible in court,” Jade dictates in a smooth and steady voice.

His eyes narrow in delight as his victim’s hand turns blue due to lack of circulation. The student pales.

Another boy argues, “They stole Kalim’s magic carpet. Theft is a crime too.”

“Besides, this isn’t any of your business! Back off,” someone else interjects.

There’s a collective agreement when Azul cuts in.

“Based on the prefect’s testimony, we’ve offered them sanctuary. Until we’ve investigated this matter, Octavinelle will keep Kalim’s magic carpet,” the dorm leader details before giving a deadly smile, “For now, you’re in our territory. I’ll kindly ask you to leave. If you don’t do it willingly, I have no problem forcing you.”

One of the students grits his teeth and barks, “They stole Kalim’s carpet! Do you know how precious it is?”

You speak up, “Yes, and because Octavinelle is sheltering us, they’ll want to ensure his carpet is returned in pristine condition. It would be embarrassing if there were any blemishes they didn’t catch. They’re incredibly benevolent and would want to compensate Kalim.”

You’re about to reassure them you’ll give it back tomorrow when you notice something. Your crash landing destroyed some tables. Azul would never let that go. You change your goal and escalate the situation.

“Although, it is pathetic that there are so many of you and you’re scared of two people, a magicless student, and their cat. Your attitudes are a reflection of your dorm. Perhaps, you deserve the grueling treatment Kalim subjects you to. Maybe you can learn how to be mentally stronger,” you taunt.

It has the desired effect. The Scarabia students attack. You grin and snatch the carpet. Before you move, you see Grim lining up to fire. You pick him up by the scruff of his neck and slide up to Azul.

“Why are you taking me away?” Grim cries, kicking the air. “I want to fight too!”

“If you attack them, we’re at a disadvantage. They could claim we used force as well. It’s better to let the tweels handle it,” you reply, before whispering in his flaming ear. “I don’t fancy paying Octavinelle for property damage. If you don’t want to become fish food, keep quiet.”

Grim squeaks and nods. You place him down, pat his head, and watch the battle. The place becomes a mess. Your initial damages blend in with the landscape.

You’ve always admired the twins’ fighting style. They get up close and personal, bashing people into walls and tables. The combination of physical power and magical prowess is unique, effective, and intimidating. It sends people running.

“You should bill Kalim for compensation,” you suggest to Azul, “He’s their dorm leader. It’s supposedly on his orders that Grim and I were held hostage.”

The man grits his teeth, “You intentionally provoked them. We won’t get any money if the carpet is damaged.”

“It’s not. We can check now,” you reassure.

You turn and walk to the bar. You smirk to yourself. He didn’t notice your crash-landing. You distracted him with the potential coup and later the Scarabia mob blocked his line of sight. Now, you’re off the hook.

You lay the magic carpet on the counter.

“Carpet, are you hurt in any way?” You question.

The animated object’s tassels shake a no.

You request, “Perfect. Just in case, can we look over you?”

It moves its tassels up and down and flops onto the counter. You laugh at the action. Pulling out your phone flashlight, you ensure there are no imperfections. A scream and snap resound behind you. You and Azul ignore it. Floyd cackles with a crazed edge and a sinister chuckle comes from Jade.

You feel Grim press against your leg. Glancing down, you grab him and put him on a bar stool. You ask the carpet to flip itself so you can inspect the back more closely.

“This is incredible quality,” Azul states, running his fingers across the fabric.

You can practically hear the money signs in his voice.

You roll your eyes. “Do you doubt the Al-Asim’s wealth?”

“No! I’m just admiring the business opportunity,” he answers.

Something thuds beside you. You look down to find a struggling Scarabia student on the floor. You stare. You’ve covered up your part of the crime and it’s illegal for them to trespass on private property. You deem it fine to enact violence before slamming your foot into his face.

The student yells, clutching his broken nose. You kick him a few feet away. Once he’s out of range, you casually turn back to the Octavinelle house warden.

“You said you were providing us sanctuary. I expect you to uphold your statement,” you tell him.

The sophomore stares at you with an open mouth. You continue the conversation for him.

“If you can’t tell, I’d like to get revenge on these people. In addition, this is good for you. If we figure out what’s wrong with Kalim, he’ll owe you a debt. Your bodyguards will be invested because it causes chaos. There’s no down–”

A hand brushes your ankle.

You pin it under your foot before the perpetrator latches on. You slowly turn your gaze to the ground. It’s the scum you left a shoe imprint on. How cute.

You give a soft smile and swivel your heel into his hand. There are a few cracks.

“Did you know that there are 27 bones in the human hand?” you ask, leaning down. “That’s about one-quarter of all the bones in your body. They’re also some of the most painful to break because they have the most nerve endings. It’s been used as a torture method to get people to confess.”

The teenager’s free hand shoots out to grab your other ankle. A deadly spark flickers in your eyes. You snatch the extremity and extend it above his body until you hear a pop. His shoulder dislocates. You send another warm smile. It’s so out of place, it’s uncanny.

“You haven’t learned your lesson, have you? That’s ok. I’m a great tutor. Carpet, please move away from me and the fight,” you request.

You watch the magic item fly away and turn back to the Scarabia member.

“For the record, Kalim sent you, correct? I must ensure Azul sends the bill to the right person. I don’t want to be liable for any damages to the Monstro Lounge,” you explain condescendingly.

Instead of answering, your victim spits at you. Your eyes widen. You keep your calm and sweet expression.

“You just signed your ticket to hell,” you sing before stomping his groin.

You use his moment of vulnerability to yank him up. You open his jaw, place it on the edge of the bar, and crack your elbow over his head. Controlling your strength, you make sure he only breaks some teeth. You don’t want to kill him.

“Woaaah! Shrimpy's got some moves!” Floyd cries behind you.

You flash a brilliant grin. Jade looks at you with wide eyes before narrowing into a thrilled shimmer. They’ve dealt with the students on their side. Everyone watches you, so you put on a show.

Pulling your victim off the counter, you throw him onto a nearby seat. You pluck the magic pen off him and toss it to Grim.

“Now you can experience what it’s like to be a magicless student,” you comment, rummaging through his pockets. “Although, you got beat up by me despite having magic. It’s quite embarrassing.”

The boy is too terrified to stop you. You remove his wallet and flip through the different cards he has.

“In addition to losing against me, you lost Kalim’s carpet and—Ooh, a gift card.”

You pocket it and take out the wad of cash. You leave his ID and credit card. It’s more trouble than it’s worth to steal someone’s credit or debit card. If you use it, it can be tracked. On the other hand, gift cards and physical money are safe.

You continue, “You failed to recapture Grim and I. You should probably keep quiet for now and figure it out what to do in the morning. It’s late. Despite your injuries, you’ll have to walk through the desert tomorrow. You need all the sleep you can get. Hopefully, you have a medic on hand.”

After shaking the boy down you snatch his magical pen from your cat. You tuck it back into his shirt pocket and pat it.

“I’ll return this to you so people won’t question why you don’t have it. Be grateful for the small things.” You smile before shoving him out of his seat and onto the floor.

You toss the wallet on his limp body. After making sure there’s no blood on the bar stool, you replace him and cross your legs. When nobody moves, you glance at the mob.

“You should grab him before he bleeds out,” you suggest.

Two Scarabia students scurry up to help their fallen comrade and scuttle out the door.

Jade slides up beside you.

“That was impressive, [Y/N]. Where did you learn to fight like that?” The quieter twin asks.

Floyd grins, skipping over. “Shrimpy’s awesome! I haven’t seen anyone be that ruthless in a while.”

“My family taught me,” you shrug, before addressing Azul. “Do you have a room Grim and I can sleep in tonight?”

The octopus pushes his glasses up, regaining his composure from the intense shock.

The house warden answers, “No, we don’t, but—”

“--That’s fine. I’ll sleep with Jade.”

It takes a moment for the others to process your words. Azul is the first to react.

“WHAT?!?!” He screams.

Jade’s eyes blow wide as they look at you, stunned. Floyd’s voice is caught in his throat. It takes everything in you to keep a straight and innocent face. To distract yourself from laughing, you reach down to pick up Grim. You hold him out to Floyd.

“You can have Grim. He’s a great cuddler,” you tell him, before glancing at his twin. “You share a room, right?”

Jade slowly nods.

You bob your head and shove your cat into Floyd’s arms. Hopping off your seat, you grab the quieter eel.

“You’re ok with it, right?” you confirm.

The man looks torn between asking if you’re sure and agreeing for fun. Your decision to share a bed with a distant, borderline-deadly acquaintance is a wild and concerning move. You can tell he’s worried for your safety and sanity.

Azul interrupts, yelling, “You can sleep on the couch!”

“But I want to sleep on a bed,” you argue, before asking him. “Do you want to share with me?”

“Ew, no,” the octopus responds.

“Well, I’m not rooming with Floyd. Jade’s my best choice,” you say, “Let’s go. I’m tired and we have to get revenge in the morning.”

You drag the chosen twin out the door without waiting for anyone else.

From behind you, Floyd chortles, “Shimpy is bold! I guess you’re sleeping with me, Baby Seal.”

Grim cries out in distress.

Jade leads you to their bedroom. It’s obvious which section is his.

Walking over to his bed, you ask. “Do you have a preference on which side you sleep on?”

“No, I don’t.” The vice leader shakes his head.

Floyd busts in, clutching a dead-faced Grim.

“We’re having a sleepover,” he squeals, launching at you.

You slip behind Jade, but he dodges. Your eyes widen as the chaotic eel barrels toward you. You tackle the vice leader to avoid him.

Both of you fall on the bed as he lets out a surprised sound.

“Dogpile!” Floyd shouts.

He jumps and knocks the wind out of you. Grim screeches as he’s smooshed. The taller twin laughs and you can’t help but chuckle too. It turns into a full-blown cackle at the absurd situation. Factoring in your earlier stunt, you lose it.

You can’t breathe but it doesn’t stop you from wheezing, “Your faces when I said I’d sleep with Jade! You were so surprised. Azul’s reaction was gold. I had to fight so hard to keep a straight face, but it was worth it.”

You grip Jade’s shoulders, shaking. Tears begin streaming down your face. Your giggle fit continues as you shove Floyd off you. The Octavinelle student laughs alongside you and even Jade joins in.

Grim tries to stay silent, frowning, because you left him with Floyd. However, the air is too infectious. He can’t help but snicker too.

It takes a while before you can speak. You sigh as your laughter passes. You turn to Jade.

“Imma get ready for bed. I need all my energy to fulfill my retribution,” you state, sitting up. “Do you have an extra toothbrush and can I borrow some pajamas?”

Jade nods, standing up to fetch the requested items.

Floyd complains next to you. “I wanna stay up~!”

“We’re having a two-day sleepover. Maybe even more. We’re infiltrating Scarabia tomorrow. I’m sure we’ll be too busy planning dastardly schemes to get much sleep anyway,” you reason.

The fictitious eel weighs his options before agreeing, “Ok! I still have Baby Seal to keep me company.”

Floyd grabs Grim and squeezes. Your cat squeaks and looks at you desperately. You turn away, feigning ignorance, as you take Jade’s pajamas and the extra toiletries.

“I’ll get you for this,” Grim promises, as Floyd takes him to his side of the room.

You look at the offered sleepwear. It’s a set of turquoise silk pajamas. You rub your thumb along it. They’re soft.

“Thank you,” you tell him, “I’ll be quick.”

After completing your nighttime routine, you slip back into the room. Heading to the light switch, you focus on Jade’s bed. Once you’ve mapped your path, you flick it off and dive. Crashing into his body, your bedmate lets out an “oof.”

“You’ve done that twice tonight. You can’t keep your hands off me,” he teases, amused.

“You’re interesting and like to mess with people. Why wouldn’t I want to be close to you?” you throw back.

He’s quiet as you climb over him, taking the space closest to the wall and furthest from Floyd. If the ball of eccentric energy attempts to approach you in your sleep, you can use his twin as a shield.

Once you settle in, the vice leader speaks up.

“I could strangle you in your sleep,” he threatens in a low voice.

You raise an amused eyebrow. “You could but you won’t.”

“Why do you think so?” Jade questions.

“I’m more entertaining alive than dead or hurt,” you answer with confidence.

Burrowing yourself into the covers, Jade hums. “You have no sense of self-preservation.”

“Maybe I’m just good at picking people,” you reply.

“You have strange tastes,” he responds.

“If I have strange tastes, then you’re a hypocrite,” you retort with a smile.

Turning toward the wall, you let sleep overtake you.

————————

You’re a light sleeper. Thankfully, you’re only interrupted a few times. It’s better than sharing a bed with Grim. Unlike your cat companion, Jade is still. However, there are moments when you regain consciousness.

You feel the Octavinelle student shift. He drapes an arm over your midsection, pulling you in. You feel his warmth against your back. Your breath catches as you try to calm your racing heart. Despite your previous bravo and nonchalant attitude, you feel attracted to the twin. You take deep breaths and concentrate on deciphering if Jade is asleep. It’s important for your analysis. After a few minutes, you conclude he is unconscious. You raise your eyebrows. That's a surprising and good sign.

The stunt you pulled was a test. You wanted to see if Jade would cross any boundaries. He’s a wild card. You’re certain Floyd would choose his whims over your needs. However, his twin was more restrained or at least clear-headed during social interactions.

Before committing to your romantic pursuit, you need to know if the other person respects you. It’s a key factor in a lasting relationship. You’re not interested in a fling. You want a long-term partner. Jade piques your interest and you want to know if he’s a good match. The sophomore passed the first test. In light of that, you reward him.

Gently flipping over, you nuzzle into his arms. The man is surprisingly warm. Before you drift into dreamland, you wonder if it’s an adaptation to the cold sea climate.

———————————

Warm arms leave your side. You groan, grabbing onto Jade’s shirt.

“What time is it?” you question, bleary-eyed.

“6:30,” Jade states, stopping his retreat.

It sounds like he’s been awake for a while. You revel in the fact he didn’t move your positions. It’s another positive mark. You don’t let on to your thoughts.

“It’s way too early, but Scarabia starts walking at 8,” you grumble, “It’s one more reason to get back at them. However, I want to look good while doing it. I need to give off an innocent vibe.”

Your voice is still ragged from sleep and you slink your arms around Jade.

“Innocent?” the vice leader questions, “After you tore through that poor soul?”

“I gotta plan,” you mumble, burying your face into his chest.

Jade stiffens before tentatively relaxing. You resist the urge to smirk. The eel is intuitive. You appreciate a quick-minded and observant individual. It looks like the Octavinelle student is insightful enough to know that you’re up to something and to follow your lead.

You continue, complaining, “I don’t wanna get up.”

You keep it down, not wanting to wake up Floyd. Thinking about the room's other occupants, you peek past Jade to see the other bed.

Floyd is sprawled out with the sheets half kicked off him. Grim lies on his chest fast asleep. You smirk. You have to take a picture of this, but the bed and Jade are comfy.

You huff and scrunch your nose. Taking a breath of fortitude, you give your snuggle buddy one last squeeze, before slinging yourself over him. With the grace of a cat, you avoid getting caught in the covers and place your feet on the floor in silence.

Unbeknownst to you, your chosen eel follows your figure with the eyes of a predator.

Walking over to grab your phone, you pad to the left side of the room. You ensure the ringer is silenced before taking multiple pictures of the cute duo. When you turn back to Octavinelle’s vice leader, he’s half sitting up, gazing with a smirk.

The teenager’s hair sticks up all over the place. You turn the camera to him and snap a photo. A smile is still plastered on his face but his head tilts, planning payback. You roll your eyes. You’re not interested in being a victim of the twin’s antics yet. Plopping beside him, you grab his shoulder and pull him closer. You flip the camera to selfie mode and take photos of you and the eel. There’s a soft smile on your face and an entertained smirk on Jade’s. Both of you look equally ridiculous and disheveled.

“Now we’re even,” you whisper, “What’s your phone number? I don’t want you to think I’m holding this hostage. It’s only fair you have them too.”

Jade raises his eyebrows, impressed by your smooth way of getting his number. He enters his contact info into your device and hands it back. With a few taps, you send him the captured memories.

“We should get ready,” you sigh.

“Indeed. Although, I don’t know how you’re going to pull off an innocent look,” he comments, smirking.

—--------------

The Octavinelle trio, the Ramshackle duo, and the magic carpet enter Scarabia. The five humanoids are blasted by hot air.

Floyd laments, “It feels like the middle of summer. I’m going to dry out at this rate.”

You perk up, curious.

“Are your body temperatures higher than regular humans because you all live in a colder climate?” you question.

Azul turns to you, surprised.

“Yes, we do. How do you know?” he replies.

You focus on maintaining a straight face. Out of everyone’s reactions last night, Azul’s was the most entertaining.

“Jade was incredibly warm when we cuddled,” you reveal.

The businessman’s eyes bulge out and he coughs. You clench your teeth, resisting the urge to laugh. The gentlemanly twin is unable to resist and enhances your performance.

He puts an arm around your waist and confirms, “They were rather cool, so it didn’t bother me. Their hair also smells nice. It’s a mix of [whatever scent you like, but it’s very specific. Weirdly specific].”

You’re torn between being flattered, concerned about how descriptive he is, and laughing at the fantastic response. The Octavinelle dorm leader stares at the two of you horrified and wary. Floyd gleefully cackles beside you.

“Jade is down bad, and Shrimpy is making the moves~! No wonder Azul’s terrified. He just gained another of us,” the chaotic twin crows, bumping into you.

Floyd throws an arm around your shoulder. The twins squish you on either side. They tower above you with mischievous and deadly smiles.

“I hope you’re not leaving anytime soon. You’re too interesting and my brother likes you,” the basketball player sings, “If you try to escape, I’ll have to squeeze ya.”

You smirk back, looping your arms around their backs. You pull them in. They lean down, excited by the impromptu team huddle.

“You’re much more fun to work with than I thought. As long as we’re all in agreement, I’ll stick around as long as you like. Besides, Azul’s reactions are more than enough to get me to stay,” you say.

You gesture at the lone Octavinelle sophomore. His eyebrows scrunch, attempting to factor your brand of insanity into his plans. The house warden notices your gazes and glares at the three of you.

He pushes up his glasses and declares, “We have a coup to stop, business deals to make, and a mystery to solve. Let’s get going.”

The octopus spins on his heels and stalks forward. The eels and you straighten to attention, falling into your roles. As you walk closer to the elaborate building, Azul relaxes into his usual over-the-top attitude. He glances behind and finds perfect and docile assistants. You hear a sigh of relief.

Eventually, you’re close enough to hear the Scarabia students from last night’s fight. They took your advice and haven’t told anyone. Putting on your best acting face, you pretend to look at the Leech twins in fear. There’s a mirthful sparkle in Jade’s eye and Floyd is ecstatic to see what will happen. Without waiting, he shoves you forward.

“Go and tell them what you need to, Shrimpy,” the embodiment of chaos elogates.

His voice catches the residents’ attention. They stiffen at the sight of your quartet. You make your body small and unthreatening. You put your arms close to your chest, strengthening the effect. You spare the school mafia one more hesitant glance.

Floyd urges you in a threatening tone, “Tell them what you need to and make it quick.”

He puts a hand on his other shoulder, tilting his head. He wears the disconcerting expression of a wild predator about to snap.

“Be grateful we’re allowing you to do this much,” Jade chimes in with a similar grin.

You hurry to the beat-up students and start apologizing.

“I’m so sorry for what happened yesterday. I was scared you would take Grim and me. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. The person I should be mad at is the one making you do these inhuman acts. However, I can’t help but feel there’s something wrong with Kalim. He’s usually so outgoing and kind,” you start.

“I want to help your dorm. I need to make up for what I did and leaving you all to endure this torture isn’t right. As someone who experienced it first-hand, I want to stop this. However, I paid a heavy price to get some help,” you lie.

You slightly gesture to the Octavinelle trio. Based on the Scarabia students’ expressions, the mobsters are as intimidating as ever.

You plead your case, “I’m getting Azul and the twins to help me investigate, but we need to make sure our cover isn’t blown. Please pretend you didn’t see anything last night.”

You give a strained smile before pulling out a healing potion and presenting it to the student you hurt.

You bow. “Again, I’m sorry. Please accept this as part of my apology.”

Your ploy works like spreading hot butter on toast.

“We’ll keep quiet,” one of them assures, “Thank you for helping. You’re doing everyone a favor. There are no hard feelings about your attack.”

“Now that you mention it, you were the one who helped solve the incident in Heartslabyul,” another points out.

“Oh my god, they were! Didn’t they also solve the slavery issue in Octavinelle too?” someone asks.

“That must be where they became in debt to them,” one individual surmises.

They rally around you, buying into your lie and creating a story for you. They believe you’re a saint sent from the heavens. They don’t doubt your intentions at all.

“If you need anything, let us know. We’ll support you to the best of our abilities,” the last reassures.

You give a shaky and appreciative smile. “Thank you. I have one request. If something weird happens between the Octavinelle trio and me, it’s all part of the plan. I ask that you not to give anything away or oppose what’s happening.”

The Scarabia students immediately agree when Azul cuts in.

“[Y/N], we need to find Kalim,” he dictates.

You pretend to jump. You wave to your new followers and scramble back to your party. When you turn your back to the fools, you smirk at your fellow tricksters. Jade sends an approving nod as Floyd gives a joyful grin.

A familiar voice comes around the corner.

“It’s almost time for morning training,” Jamil warns, “Kalim will lose it if you’re la—”

The vice leader stops upon seeing the out-of-place sea folk. He narrows his eyes. Before he can say anything, Azul gives a signature business greeting.

“Jamil! Good morning. How are you on such a fine day?” he questions with a lavishing voice.

The Scarabia vice leader stares with a slightly annoyed and skeptical frown.

“Azul Ashengrotten with the Leech Twins,” he addresses, before asking. “What are you doing here?”

You speak up, “I brought them.”

Jamil furrows his brows. “Why?”

You move, allowing him to see Grim and the magic carpet. The brunette’s eyes grow wide.

“The magic carpet escaped. Grim and I were able to grab it just before it took off. However, it ended up dragging us through the mirror and into Octavinelle. They insisted we stay the night and return it together,” you start.

Azul seamlessly takes the baton and continues, “We want to personally deliver it to Kalim. It’s a national treasure. If someone were to find fault with it and claim it was Octavinelle’s fault, I’d have no end of trouble.”

Jamil purses his lips. “Kalim doesn’t care about something like that. You can give it–”

“--There’s no need for you to pay the 20% labor fee for returning a lost item,” the dorm leader adds.

The whole crew chips in.

“We heard about your training and wanted to talk to Kalim about it,” Jade comments.

“We also brought seafood pizza,” Floyd drawls with a grin.

“And snacks!” Grim adds.

“Anyway, I’d like to hand this to him directly. I assume he’s awake?” Azul finishes.

After being pelted with rapid-fire statements, Jamil closes his eyes and denies the request again.

“I’m telling you he’s in a bad—Hey! You can’t just walk in here!“

Azul strides past the protesting Scarabia student. Your party follows the Octavinelle leader inside.

—----------------

“The Ramshackle Prefect informed us you’re training over the winter holidays. The three of us happen to be stuck at school too. Isn’t this a perfect opportunity to deepen Octavinelle and Scarabia’s bonds through joint training?” Azul suggests to Kalim.

The sunshine student lights up. “That sounds like a great idea! I’d love to have you over!”

Jamil cuts in with a harsh voice.

“I’m against it. Octavinelle is a rival dorm. It would put us at a disadvantage if we let the enemy come in and learn our tricks,” he advises, crossing his arms.

The wealthy teen looks at his subordinate with a relaxed grin.

“‘Enemy’ is a bit much. Besides, didn’t you invite the Ramshackle dorm?” the sophomore points out.

Jamil purses his lips.

“I suppose you’re right,” he admits, before turning a stern glare onto the mafia trio. “I’m saying this for you as well, Azul. I know how much you value your grades.”

The businessman sighs, looking downcast. “I suppose you’re right. We should make our way back. Good luck with your training.”

The three of them turn around solemnly. You know what the next step of the plan is. They’re going to make themselves look pitiful. However, that wouldn’t be any fun. You can’t wait to see Azul’s facial expression to your next surprise.

“Wait!” You stop them in a heartfelt tone.

The trio glances at you, but you’re already looking at Kalim. You have a pleading expression.

“Kalim, I’m determined to stay here until the end of winter break. Grim and I were thrilled whenever Jamil invited us. We are often stuck alone in our dorm, isolated. Scarabia is so lively and we’ve made great friends. We want to foster those connections, but…” you trail off.

You mentally steel yourself and look at Jade. In your peripheral vision, you watch Azul stiffen and clench his teeth. Floyd gives the widest grin you’ve ever seen and Jade stares in amusement.

“I miss my boyfriend,” you finish.

You barely save yourself from laughing by breaking eye contact with Octavinelle’s vice leader.

You continue, rambling. “It’s ok if you can’t allow that–”

“No!” Kalim shouts, “I cannot break up a couple like this! Azul is one of the best mages at this school. If we let them stay, Scarabia will benefit. I’d sully the Al-Asim name if I turned you all away. Plus, I have to know how you got together.”

Jamil is too stunned to retort. There’s a brief moment of silence where typically Azul would speak up. However, he’s too busy containing his rage and annoyance to do anything.

Jade replies, heading over to your side. “Kalim, thank you. I’ve missed my significant other dearly during this time. You’ve done us a great favor.”

Azul gets his wits about him and puts on a business smile. It’s slightly taut, but he retains his drama and butters up the wealthy student.

“Yes, you are a truly kind and warm-hearted person! I will teach you everything I know,” he promises.

“Floyd and I are happy to assist with any cooking and cleaning,” Jade adds, snaking his arm around your waist.

You catch Azul glaring at the action before covering it with an elegant smile.

Floyd chips in. “Yeah, we’re old pros from working at the Lounge.”

“That’ll be a great help! Jamil won’t have as much work anymore. He already does so much for me,” the embodiment of sunshine beams.

Jamil speaks up with a calculated expression.

“I don’t need any help, but I didn’t know you were together. When did you start dating?” the vice leader drawls.

“I want to know too! You have to tell us everything!” Kalim jumps in.

He urges your party to sit. You move in tandem with your “boyfriend.” Sitting close together, Jade puts a hand behind you and leans into your figure. You copy his behavior and rest yourself on his shoulder. The Scarabia house warden squeals at your intimate position while Jamil narrows his eyes, skeptical.

On Jade’s left is a smug Floyd. He looks at Jamil with a confident smirk. He knows the two of you won’t break. Next to him, Azul regrets his life choices and plots to kill the two of you in private.

“How did you get together?” Kalim questions with twinkling eyes.

Jade chuckles, “I caught an interest in the prefect after Azul’s overblot. They were the mastermind behind his demise and I had to learn more. I ended up finding them in the greenhouse one day. We were both looking for the same ingredients for potions class. They asked me a few questions and I mentioned my terrariums. They were more enthusiastic than I expected, so I showed my hobby to them. [Y/N] wanted to help. I wasn’t opposed to the idea, so we spent time together. We bonded over shared interests.”

Jamil interrupts, “I can’t see you dating just because of plants. What other interests do you share? The two of you are quite different.”

Jade hums, placing his head on top of yours. You take the hint and nuzzle into him.

“You’re right. We do enjoy more physical activities.”

Azul squawks, his glasses going askew. Floyd cackles, clapping. Grim glances at you with a complicated and borderline disgusted expression. Jamil’s mouth falls open at the bold choice and Kalim fanboys.

You scoff, lightly smacking your chosen eel. “You didn’t have to admit that.”

“I know you like it,” he replies.

Kalim continues the interview. “Jade, what do you like most about [Y/N]?”

He gives a thoughtful look.

“They’re unassuming at first glance, but they’re an incredible strategist and tactician. They’re unpredictable,” he details.

Jamil hums, “So that’s why you’re interested.”

He turns to you and provokes, “I suggest you don’t place all your hopes and dreams on him. You’re just a passing fancy.”

Your eyes widen, genuinely offended. Jade grips your midsection and wraps his other arm across your torso. He keeps his ever-present smile, but it has a deadly edge. You lean into him.

Jade responds for both of you.

“Nobody asked for your opinion,” he comments, before turning to you. “I want to know what you find attractive about me.”

A silent understanding passes between the two of you. You want to distract Kalim from Jamil’s comment. The Scarabia vice leader is testing you, but you want to smooth this over.

In the back of your mind, you think that this dating simulation is going well. You’ll have to continue it for a few more days to gain significant data. However, the odds tilt in Jade’s favor.

“You’re rather gentlemanly,” you start, before glancing at him.

You let your eyes wander his face, before going in for the kill. You make sure everyone in the room knows what you’re doing. Your gaze drops from his eyes to his mouth. It lingers for a long time. You tear your focus away and look at Kalim.

“More importantly, he’s interesting. He likes to go along with my plans and I have fun with him,” you say, before adding. “His teeth are just a bonus.”

Azul jerks forward, having been metaphorically K.O.ed. He glares holes into both of you. You smirk. The businessman’s eyes widen, disturbed.

You furrow your eyebrows. The sunshine child explains what happened, clapping his hands.

“The two of you are in sync! You made the same facial expression at Azul. You’re fated to be together!” he praises.

You look at your partner with a satisfied grin. The Scarabia vice leader interjects again, displeased.

“[Y/N] is fairly open. Was there any reason you hid your relationship?” he interrogates.

You’ve been waiting for the question.

“Yes,” you sigh, “We thought Azul would disapprove. I was the one who planned his downfall after all. Unfortunately, we were right about his reaction.”

The Octavinelle leader whips toward you, his mouth open and his eyes filled with fire. You ignore him, continuing.

“It all came out last night. Floyd caught us making out. We tried to stop him from telling Azul, but you know Floyd,” you say, giving a helpless smile. “I’m glad you allowed them to stay, Kalim. I worried Jade might get berated if I didn’t return with him. Thank you. We appreciate it.”

“Anytime!” the Scarabia student waves you off.

The businessman cuts in to defend his honor.

“To be fair, I’m mostly shocked by your union,” he states, pushing up his glasses. “I just need time to process. I’ll get used to this new normal eventually.”

Kalim cheers, “I’m glad Azul is coming around!”

The sophomore in question scowls. From the corner of your eye, Jamil frowns. The vice leader doesn’t believe you and that’s fine. He won’t catch you or Jade slipping up.

—---------------

You continue the fake relationship for that day, avoiding Jamil’s attempts to prove your lie. That night, Azul almost strangles all of you for the stunt you pulled. You’re quick to distract him. Eventually, Jade and you find the culprit behind Kalim’s “mood swings.” From there, the five of you plan.

—--------------

You walk with Azul and Grim to Kalim’s bedroom. It’s early in the morning. You want to wake him before his vice leader does.

Azul stops and looks at you. He searches your eyes with a neutral and serious face.

“Are you playing with him?” he questions.

You tilt your head with a smile.

You shake your head. “I’m not, but it’s pretty cute you’re worried.”

The businessman crosses his arms, giving a light glare.

“I don’t want my best asset to decrease his productivity because he’s in a slump,” he argues, “He’s the one who deals with social interactions. If he’s not at peak performance, he can’t follow through with my schemes.”

You give an unconvinced look but don’t push. Instead, you answer the question.

“I am serious about him. My bold moves at the beginning were mostly tests,” you reveal.

The sophomore pauses, confused. “What?”

“When I suggested sleeping with him, I wanted to see if he would do anything inappropriate or cross any boundaries. I wondered how he would react in a domestic relationship. I got a satisfying answer,” you explain, “The fake dating ploy is to see how well we work as a team. I knew Jamil wouldn’t believe us, so this also gauges how dedicated he can be as my partner.

“I look at romantic relationships like a group project. Two people work toward a shared goal of staying together and supporting one another. Both sides have to put in work to maintain it. It’s efficient to put candidates through trials at the beginning. I don’t want to invest in a poor product,” you chuckle.

Azul stares at you, mildly impressed. He pushes up his glasses.

“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for,” he comments, “I’m sure Jade has a long-standing interest in you as well.”

You beam, elated. The Octavinelle student shakes his head before walking forward.

“We have a plan to dislodge,” he reminds you.

“Indeed,” you chirp, skipping alongside him.

The businessman sighs, resigned to his fate of you and Jade getting together.

————————

Everyone stands outside the dorm in the scorching sun, listening to the Octavinelle trio.

“Skirmishes are good exercise and help relieve stress,” Jade informs.

Floyd pipes up with his signature elongated vocals.

“I wanna go wild too! Someone come fight me!” He giggles.

You jump at the opportunity.

“I want to,” you volunteer, running up.

“Oooh, Shrimpy’s offering to wrestle with me! Yeah, I’ll do it,” the chaotic twin agrees, “One on one though.”

“Deal,” you grin.

You look at the Octavinelle’s first and second in command. Azul purses his lips but shrugs, accepting your death, while Jade is amused.

When you turn away, your fake boyfriend’s eyes narrow, cutting into his brother. It’s a warning. His counterpart laughs.

“I won’t kill them, Jade. They’re too funny to cripple,” the chaotic twin reassures, throwing his hands up. “I know they’re yours.”

You glance at the calmer eel. He has a small smile on his face like always.

“Just be careful, pearl,” he cautions you.

You perk up at the new nickname and nod with a hum.

“Thanks for looking out for me, sweetheart,” you reply.

Jade’s eyes flash with satisfaction before returning to normal.

He chuckles, “I’ll let you and Floyd have your fun. Azul and I will manage the rest of Scarabia.”

“Let’s go!” Floyd chirps, dragging you to a section of sand.

You take off your shoes and socks, knowing you’ll have a better grip if you go barefoot. In typical Floyd fashion, there’s no start signal. He just runs at you.

You bend your knees prepared to take him before faking out at the last minute. Wind rushes past you as he misses. However, Floyd’s reaction time is quick. He wheels around to snatch you. You duck and slip under his defenses. You punch into rock-solid abs. The hit doesn’t deter him. You leap back, creating distance and space.

It becomes a game of tag. You deftly dodge, trying to find a weakness, as the chaotic eel runs after you. However, Floyd’s attacks are so randomized, that it’s hard to deduce a pattern.

Then, your feet slip underneath you. Your eyes widen as warm sand meets your calf. Your opponent materializes in front of you. He blocks the sun like a reaper in a Wild West movie. Floyd shoots toward you. You spray sand into his eyes. The eel jerks back, making an odd noise. It’s a cross between a screech and a groan.

You take the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Before you can lock him down, he gives a frenzied laugh. The chaotic twin pulls his knees to his chest and kicks you in the stomach. There’s a burst of light as you’re sent flying. You skid across the sand as Jade roars.

“FLOYD!”

In moments, the vice leader is by your side. He drops to his knees, checking you over.

“Are you ok?” Jade asks urgently, “Did you get hurt?”

You blink and shake your head.

“My stomach hurts, but other than that I’m fine,” you respond.

Your romantic interest flips your shirt up to look where his brother hit you. Your eyes widen at the brazen action. However, you sober up as you watch Jade’s worried expression. There’s a tinge of frantic concern in his eyes. There’s no visible wound on you.

“There might be some internal injury,” he murmurs to himself.

Your eel’s hands clench in the sand as he recomposes himself. They’re on either side of you, protecting you from Floyd. You tilt your head and you glance up at the other eel. He gives a sheepish smile.

With one hand behind his head, he apologizes. “Sorry, Shrimpy. I used magic on you.”

He waves his magic pen for emphasis. The chaotic twin looks like he wants to come forward and check on you too, but he eyes Jade. He doesn’t move. Your eyes spark and you glance at your fake boyfriend. You’ve read about Moray Eels, they tend to be territorial. You’re glad he’s already so attached to you. It’s a good sign. Your brain kicks back into gear, thinking logically.

“You used magic on me?” you clarify, “I just felt you kick me. Was there supposed to be some other pain?”

Jade looks up, confused.

Floyd tilts his head. “Yeah, I threw an ice attack. Are you not cold?”

You shake your head.

“No, all I felt was your kick,” you answer.

The quieter twin hovers over you with a thoughtful look. You stare at him before catching onto his thought process. You call out to the embodiment of chaos.

“Floyd, can you hit me with that spell again?” you request.

Jade flinches. He gives a tight and displeased smile. You lean toward him and place a hand on his shoulder.

“If I can nullify magic, then I can help you more,” you reason, “If Floyd hurts me, you’ll avenge me.”

The eel’s mouth twitches upward.

“I’ll be doing that anyway,” he responds.

“That’s one of the things I love about you,” you chirp.

You watch Jade’s breath hitch at the word “love.” However, he regains his composure in an instant. He stands up, offering you a hand.

As the vice leader pulls up you, he instructs Floyd, “Let’s go somewhere a little more private.”

The three of you move to a more secluded area to test your unexpected constitution.

—--------

After experimenting, Jade ushers you back to change.

You meet in your shared bedroom again once you’re dressed in your typical outfits. In an instant, he’s all over you. He guides you backward until your knees hit the bed. You voluntarily sit down, looking up at him. The eel takes a moment to admire you in that position. Then, he loops his arms under yours and drags you into the middle of the bed. The vice leader drops beside you, pressing himself against you.

“Please don’t do that again,” Jade requests, wrapping his arm around you. “Even though we found out vital information, I’m still going to have a long chat with Floyd.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s the code word for beating him up.”

The vice leader grins. “You know me so well, darling.”

You smirk before relaxing into his hold and staring at him. You take in his mismatched olive-brown and yellow eyes. The ones that turn up at the edges. Despite being in his dorm uniform, he’s ditched the hat on the side table. The one strand of black hair threatens to fall on his face. You catch him lingering on your lips. You smile.

“Once this is all over, will you be my boyfriend?” You ask while tucking the hair behind his ear.

“Why wait?” Jade questions, pulling you closer.

“Think of Jamil’s reaction upon learning he’s why we got together. We’ll have a dramatic confession in front of everyone,” you respond, “Azul will be horrified.”

Jade responds with a shark tooth grin.

He hums, “Yes, your plans are thrilling. However, as your fake boyfriend, I deserve some kind of reward for caring about you.”

“Of course.” You lean in to peck him on the lips.

Jade swoops in to deepen it but you slip your hand between you.

“Not until the grand reveal,” you tell him with a smirk.

He chuckles, amused. “Alright, but I can still do this.”

He nips your fingertips, snatching your hand and kissing the inside of your wrist. Your eyes widen and you feel your pupils dilate. Jade smirks, snaking to your neck. He pries open your collar with his teeth and latches onto your flesh.

You jolt at the slippery sensation. He moves on top of you to get a better angle. He slips his arms under you, trapping you. You don’t mind. The eel kisses and sucks the hollow of your neck and collarbone. You tilt your head to maximize Jade’s access. You feel him grin, tightening his hold.

You bathe in the pleasure and let your hands wander along his back. You run your fingers through his hair. The eel hums, confirming he likes the feeling. You feel a little mischievous and give a sharp tug. A puff of hot air hits your neck in surprise. It makes you shiver.

He bites down, hard. You yelp, gripping onto him. You feel his teeth break into your skin. The vice leader swirls his tongue along the wound, lapping the blood. You stifle a moan. The man perks up at the noise. He moves up your neck, kissing it gently.

“You don’t have to hold back,” Jade purrs.

You pant, trying to reign in your reactions.

“What fun would that be?” You retort.

He huffs out a laugh, blowing on the shell of your ear.

“I’d be delighted to slowly break you, my dear,” your soon-to-be lover whispers.

You feel your ears and face grow hot from the action as you resist arching into him. You palm his jacket, trying to find something to ground you.

“That sounds nice,” you admit.

Jade is right next to your face, nuzzling it. You can’t hold back. You turn to kiss him when a hand blocks you.

“We have to wait until the grand reveal,” he teases.

You cackle, flipping him over. He allows himself to follow your movements, gazing up at you with satisfied eyes.

“You’re perfect,” you tell him.

“You are too,” Jade answers softly.

You gaze at him for a moment, basking in the moment. You peck his lips and move to climb off when you realize something.

“I should mark you too,” you comment before launching an attack.

He chuckles, shaking his head as you return the favor.

————————

You and Jade walk into the common room. Azul is sipping water when he spots you. His eyes widen and he sprays liquid all over Jamil. He chokes. The Scarabia vice leader shouts in disgust and looks in your direction. He immediately covers Kalim’s eyes. Floyd laughs so hard, he has to lie down. Grim looks at you in surprise before pursing his lips and reluctantly accepting. You have an inkling it’s because if you date Jade, he’ll get free food from Monstro Lounge.

“Jamil, why are you covering my eyes?” Kalim questions innocently.

“It‘s debauched,” he answered, numb.

Azul yells at the two of you, “It’s 2:30!”

“Do you want us to do it in front of you?” You ask.

The Octavinelle leader suffocates on his spit, shaking in rage and embarrassment. You give a full-force grin. You have no doubt Jade is doing the same.

“We missed lunch. Do you have anything left?” Jade questions.

You cut in with a skeptical hum. “I wouldn’t say that. We just had dessert first.”

Floyd screeches in delight. Azul takes off his glasses and covers his face. Jamil stays frozen, disassociating from this unwanted scene. Grim’s nose crinkles in disgust. He crosses his arms and looks away. You can practically hear the mantra he repeats about free food.

“What’s happening?” Kalim asks, pushing his vice leader’s hands off his face.

Jamil doesn’t resist. The sunshine student spots you and grins.

“It’s so nice to see you guys so open about your love for each other! I’m glad you’re so confident in your relationship,” he compliments cheerfully.

You withhold a snort. Thankfully, Jade responds for you.

“Thank you for your blessing, Kalim,” he replies before spotting some extra food and guiding you over.

You scarf down a bowl of soup. Jade watches in amusement, as he eats slower. Then you watch Jamil and Azul head off together. It’s time to enact the plan.

—--------------

Your party stands before Jamil with all of Scarabia behind you. The vice leader of Scarabia starts to lose it.

“Me, my family… I don’t care what happens to any of it!” Jamil screams, before encanting. “The one you see before you is your master…”

Your hackles rise but you don’t do anything. You don’t want to let on about your nullification ability.

Jamil continues, “Answer when spoken to, lower your head when ordered, Snake Whisper!”

A giant ripple of magic resounds through the dorm. It permeates every space, crevice, and crack. The vulnerable Scarabia students cow under the pressure of magical power.

“Is—Is he trying to brainwash the entire dorm?!” Azul shouts in disbelief.

Your eyes widen. You sprint toward Jamil, aiming for a weak point. Without flinching, he single-handedly takes you down, bellowing an order.

“Take Kalim, Octavinelle, and Grim and kick them to the curb!” he dictates, “I’ll handle this one.”

You cry out, as he twists your arm behind your back and presses down.

“[Y/N]!”

“Shrimpy!”

“Henchman!”

Then, your friends get accosted by Scarabia students.

Jamil taunts Jade, “I’ll take good care of your princess for you.”

The eel sends him a glare before tearing through Scarabia students.

Floyd growls, complaining, “These guys keep getting up no matter how much I squeeze them. They’re zombies.”

Amid the pandemonium, Kalim cries out to his childhood companion.

“Jamil, stop already, I get it! You can be the dorm head and I’ll go home!” he begs.

Your eyes widen. That was a bad response. You glance up at the vice leader. When you see his face, you purse your lips. He’s about to overblot and you’re pinned beneath him.

You take a deep breath and exhale through your mouth. Your heart pounds in your chest and your mind races. You’ve witnessed many overblots, but you’ve never been this close to one that’s about to happen.

Logically, you know you’ll be safe from his magic, but it doesn’t make you feel better. You’re about to be locked up without any of your friends. You’ll be stuck with an unpredictable power-crazed maniac.

You hear Jade speaking and you glance up at him. His eyes continuously flicker to you as he demolishes Jamil’s thralls. You reply with a strained and helpless dry laugh. His eyebrows furrow. He pushes himself harder.

Your face drops when Jamil screams again. Your whole body tightens as you brace yourself for the transformation. The first thing you feel is sticky ink on your arm. You flinch at the sensation, cringing.

Jade yells your name, panicked. Even through the crackle of magic, you hear him push and slam into people, trying to get to you. The air becomes more dense around you. You’re not affected by it but Jamil’s presence is enough to intimidate anyone.

“You’re coming to save your lover? How amusing. I never like Kalim’s version of love anyway. He seems too invested in your fake love story. I’ll take [Y/N] for myself. I’m sure they’ll be a wonderful pet,” the overblot student provokes.

You grit your teeth as rage flares in your eyes. He dares to call you a pet? When you have the chance, you’ll stab him in the back. You’ll take the time to set it up. You’ve become good at revenge plans since teaming up with Octavinelle.

Jamil tosses you to the side, ordering a group of Scarabia students, “Take and restrain [Y/N].”

They grip you and you don’t attempt to resist. You stare straight at Jade with an annoyed and irritated look, signaling your intent for revenge. The eel raises an eyebrow. He’s still concerned and worried, but your expression relieves him of some of his worries.

Jamil floats to the group before launching them into the sky with a huge show of power.

“Jade!” You scream, horrified.

They fade to nothing more than a dot in the sky.

You take a deep breath. They’ll be fine. So far you’ve been lucky with these overblots. Everyone’s made it out ok. You pray it’s the same this time.

You refocus on Jamil. Now, you must collect data, plan this man’s demise, and act.

—--------------

The Scarabia students dress you in a tight, red crop top with matching harem pants. You’re accessorized in gold and a blue, almost transparent, scarf is wrapped around your shoulders and over your head. They lead you back to the common area. Jamil is sitting there in all his glory. His thralls cater food, fan him, and praise his excellence. When Jamil spots you, he smirks, gesturing for you to come over.

You know how you need to act. The key was not laughing. During the past few days, you’ve become proficient in that skill. You hope your training doesn’t go to waste.

Your guards escort you to him before backing off. You don an innocent and docile air. You tentatively lower yourself on the floor.

“Thank you, Master Jamil,” you state.

The Scarabia student’s eyes widen before a large smirk forms on his face. He leans forward, tipping your chin up. You comply with large, doe eyes.

“It doesn’t look like you’re very loyal to your lover, [Y/N],” he comments.

You lean forward with a worshipping gaze. You keep eye contact as you speak earnestly.

“Master Jamil, you saved my life,” you lie, “I’ve been in debt to Octavinelle for a while. When they found out about Scarabia’s situation, they wanted to investigate. They forced me to follow their plans.”

The Scarabia student raises an eyebrow. A look of satisfaction passes over his face.

“I’m glad I was right,” he murmurs.

Internally, you laugh. Jamil just wants to be right. All you’re doing is feeding into his fantasy. As long as you tell him what he wants to hear, he’ll be none the wiser.

His thumb moves across your cheek and you lean into it. Jamil’s eyes spark at the action.

The man gave you a fantastic opportunity to make more contact. You need to be close to follow through with the plan. Internally, you chuckle. When you defeat the Scarabia vice leader, you’ll be sure to punish him most uniquely.

—--------

You sit in Jamil’s lap, feeding him grapes. You giggle and play with his snake hair. The little creatures gained a liking to you. It solidified your thoughts that he’s a blindsighted fool.

A lively and energetic voice bounces off the walls.

“Jamil! You’re a cowardly traitor and I’m going to punch you!” Kalim yells.

You withhold your snort at the brazen declaration. It fits the true house warden well. You look over and find Jade. You give a wink. He keeps a straight face but there’s a look of relief. However, his eyes darken at your position.

From beside you, Jamil is stunned. In a scratchy, otherworldly voice the overblot student speaks. Making sure he can’t see, you make a disgusted face. Jade looks placated for now.

“I threw you so far into the desert. How did you get here so fast?” Jamil interrogates.

Azul speaks up. “Kalim used his unique magic, Oasis Maker, to refill a dried-up river. Jade and Floyd swam us here.”

Jamil sneers, “I thought Kalim’s unique Magic was nothing more than a way to splish-splash in a kitty pool. Who knew you would muster the power to fill a river?”

“I’m here to challenge you as the house warden!” The boy in question declares.

“No, I am the rightful leader of Scarabia. I’m much better than you’ve ever been,” Jamil states before getting up from his seat with you in his arms.

You fake a small swoon and wrap your arms around his neck. He moves to deposit you a little ways away behind him.

“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll exterminate these pests and be back,” the overblot student reassures.

You nod submissively.

Jamil turns and flies at your companions. From behind him, you gag, dusting off wherever he touched you.

“Your lover doesn’t like you, Jade. They’re rather pliant in my hands,” the Scarabia student snarks.

Your eyes blaze with fire at the comment. The eel’s face tightens.

With his ever-present calm and polite smile, Jade replies, “I’m sure [Y/N] will see reason when we defeat you.”

“That won’t happen,” Jamil snorts, before blasting your friends with bloody burgundy magic.

Light flashes across the room as the ink behind Jamil gathers. A towering humanoid snake rises from the liquid. Its face is a broken, leaking ink bottle with a massive Sultan headpiece. On the wrists are two matching golden cuffs. It’s his overblot monster. This is what the group needs to target. They have to break the glass.

Carefully moving to the side where neither Jamil nor the entity can see you, you start giving hand gestures. The first one you give is putting an index finger to your mouth. Grim looks straight at you, confused. Thankfully your soon-to-be boyfriend moves to block your cat’s line of sight and kicks him. Your familiar gets the hint.

Surprisingly, Kalim notices you but doesn’t give anything away. Floyd is on the same page. Everyone makes sure to not look at you directly or at least simultaneously. You begin miming your plan.

When you finish, you see a spark of an idea in Kalim’s eyes. You raise an eyebrow. It looks like he’s planning something. However, none of the Octavinelle students can see it. You don’t mind altering your plans. You’re curious.

You creep up on Jamil, coming behind the monster. You plan to dash past. You lower yourself into a sprinting position and wait.

Kalim takes a deep breath and nods. You take your cue and sprint.

The white-haired boy shouts, “Do you know how this will affect your family?!”

Jamil stops casting, choking in rage.

You leap, latching onto his head. All of his magic stops as you cover his eyes. Restraining his snake hair, your legs wrap around his waist. Jade dashes up, spins, and delivers a roundhouse kick to the side of his jaw.

Jamil falls, unconscious. Jade catches you as the monster roars.

The sound is cut off by shattering glass. Ink gushes from the creature’s face. It crumples and disintegrates to mist.

You glance back. Kalim is standing there with his staff raised. He stays in that position, frozen.

The air clears to reveal the night sky again. The other Scarabia students are still knocked out from the amount of mind control power Jamil used on them.

Kalim hiccups and collapses to the ground, sobbing.

You give a sad smile. Standing up, you walk over to him and put a hand on his back.

“Nice thinking, Kalim,” you tell him, “You gave us the opening we needed.”

The crying student looks up at you.

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know he felt that way about me!” the Scarabia leader wails, “I didn’t want to say that to him either.”

Your eyes widen, not knowing how to deal with this. Then, you spot your out.

You swoop Grim into your arms and carry him over to Kalim.

“You better act like a good stuffed animal,” you tell him, “We both don’t know how to help crying people, but you’re much more huggable than I am.”

Your cat is about to thrash at you before you add, “I can get you seven cans of tuna for free because I’m about to date Jade.”

Your companion stills.

“If you throw me to Floyd again, that promise doubles,” he conditions.

“Ok,” you comply.

You can use his wording against him. He didn’t stipulate if Floyd caught him on his own. Your cat needs to learn that to live with this crew.

You deposit Grim in front of Kalim, who asks if he can hug him.

“That’s what I’m here for. Just don’t get snot on me,” your magical creature huffs.

The wealthy sophomore clutches onto him and weeps. You chuckle, watching the life get squeezed out of your familiar.

You head to the Octavinelle trio.

Before you can say anything, Jade reels you into him. He holds you close. You can feel his breath on your cheek. Beads of sweat drip down his face. You know he wants to kiss you, but he’s too committed to your upcoming stunt. Instead, he rips off the scarf and traces the hickeys he left.

Azul groans, “Not again.”

Floyd nudges Jamil with his foot. “When’s he going to wake up?”

The Scarabia vice leader responds, moaning in pain. Kalim shoots up from the floor and rushes to his side, balling.

The wealthy student is almost incoherent, babbling something about Jamil being alive. He helps the overblotted student sit up. The bruised and beat-up sophomore puts a hand on his chin.

“Who hit me?” he questions.

“I did. I also want to thank you,” Jade answers.

Jamil’s eyebrows furrow.

“For what?” he asks.

The eel ignores him, turning to you with a smile. He takes your hand.

“[Y/N], ever since you flew into Monstro Lounge three nights ago and pummeled that one student, I’ve been enchanted by you. From your bold declaration to sleep with me on the first night—“

“—You did what?” Jamil interjects, horrified.

Jade ignores him. “—to your fake dating scheme. They’ve been some of the most memorable moments of my life. Will you be my girlfriend?”

Azul lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank god, I thought you were going to ask them to marry you.”

You get an idea.

“Of course, Jade. I’ve always thought you were interesting. When we interacted before Azul’s overblot, you fascinated me. However, it wasn’t until Jamil’s shenanigans that we connected on a deeper level.”

You let the sexual insinuation sit for a moment. Jamil gags. You glance at Floyd with a smirk. That was the exact reaction you wanted from him

“You should force him to watch this entire thing. Jamil deserves to be punished for his overblot. It’s not violent, so this is a perfect way,” you suggest with a sweet smile.

The chaotical entity bounces on the balls of his feet and zooms at the offered target.

Jamil grunts as Floyd catches him in a chokehold and forces his eyes open. The eel cackles directly into his ear, causing the vice leader to wince at the volume.

“Shrimpy’s ideas are the best! You should team up with Azul to make even more hilarious schemes,” he chortles beside the Scarabia student’s face.

You grin and turn back to your lover.

“It’s all thanks to Jamil that we’re together. I love that we’re on the same page. I love how dedicated you are to our relationship (and schemes, you internally add, knowing he’ll come to the same conclusion). I love your willingness to try new things. In light of that…”

You get down on one knee.

Keeping your eyes on Jade, you hold your hand face up and demand, “Kalim, give me your ring bracelet. I’ll return it after I get a formal ring.”

You hear an excited gasp and the jangling of metal.

“Kalim,” Jamil complains, trying to caution him.

There’s a hitch in his breath.

“Let [Y/N] and my brother have their moment, Sea Snake~” Floyd sings, tightening his hold.

From the corner of your eye, Azul grips his hair.

“I hate both of you,” the dorm leader hisses.

Without missing a beat, you add. “You’ll be catering the event.”

The businessman pauses. He straightens up, pushing up his glasses.

“I suppose that’s fine,” he concedes, “The wedding business is incredibly lucrative. The price increases if you put the word “wedding” before it.”

Kalim claps his hands.

“I’m glad Azul has finally accepted the two of you,” he cheers, before depositing the requested item in your hands.

You take it.

Looking up at Jade, you hold in a burst of laughter at the absurd situation.

“Jade, will you marry me?” You ask.

“Yes, my pearl.”

You quickly slip the jewelry on before jumping him. You make a big show of making out.

In the background, you hear Jamil protesting as Floyd giggles. You feel your fiance’s sharp teeth as his mouth forms into a grin. After about thirty seconds of twisting tongues, you release your hold. With red lips, you turn to Jamil.

“You’ll be our guest of honor,” you tell him.

He glares at you before Grim speaks up.

“The only reason I’m agreeing is because I get free food from Monstro Lounge,” he states, crossing his arms.

Azul is about to protest when Jade cuts in.

“I can make that happen,” he confirms.

You raise an eyebrow with an amused smirk. “You’re already sucking up to the in-laws.”

He pecks you again. “You’ve successfully gained my brother’s favor. I’m only repaying the favor.”

“This is why I love you,” you sigh, smiling content.

“I love you too,” Jade replies.

————————

“Now, you may kiss,” the officiant declares.

A cheer goes up as Jade grabs your waist and dips you. He catches your lips with his teeth. Jade lets go of the teasing bite to actually kiss you. He pulls you up, still holding on. You smirk and lean into him, recalling the last time you pulled this stunt. You kiss long enough for people to become uncomfortable. It was the trick from when you proposed after Jamil’s overblot.

In the audience, Jamil states, “I’m getting flashbacks.”

“It’s just like old times!” Kalim cries.

“You mean the lowest point of my life? Floyd forced me to watch them make out. I do not want to see it twice,” he retorts.

You pick up more ambient chatter.

From the Ignihyde dorm, the in-person and shivering Idia asks, “Ortho, can we go now?”

“We need to stick around a little longer. They’ve helped us out and they play video games with you.”

There’s a deep, heavy sigh before a familiar flourish of words overpowers it.

“Beau! This is a gorgeous and fantastic match. The Trickster and Monsieur Mastermind. They’re truly a plotting and mischievous duo. I have no doubt their married life will continue to flower with time!”

“Rook, [Y/N] asked you to take their wedding photos. Why are you still sitting here?” Vil questions.

“I already took them!”

“…Why am I not surprised? Epel, did you steal food from the buffet table and bring it inside?”

A muffled voice responds, “…You’re not my dorm leader anymore.”

“Oh? So you think you can just get away with it?” Vil sasses.

“Wow, they’re so cute! It’s a picture-perfect moment and they’re holding their pose. I can get in a lot of good shots,” Cater squeals.

“Trey, what flavor of cake did they order?” The former Heartslabyul leader asks.

“The standard chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. Each tier has a different flavor. However, they had an interesting request. They want me to use Doodle Suit on a few people’s slices.”

“That sounds like them,” Leona butts in, “They’re always up to something. Even now.”

“Shi-shi-shi,” Ruggie laughs, “They match each other perfectly—Oh, look, Jack’s uncomfortable. That means they’ll end soon.”

“Human rituals are so interesting,” Malleus observes, “It’s fascinating to watch one up close. Although, Silver is missing out.”

“I’m sure he’ll see many more,” Lilia waves off, “I’m excited when they ask for my assistance again. They have a great sense of humor.”

Then your cue was given.

“CEASE THIS TOMFOOLERY THIS INSTANT! ITS UNDIGNIFIED AND YOURE SULLYING MALLEUS’ EYES!!” Sebek shouts, shooting up from his seat.

The two of you break away with matching grins.

From the audience, the green-haired man stands stunned that his demands were answered. Lilia cackles and pulls him down as Silver’s eyes blearily open.

Azul comments beside your husband, “Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends and then I remember how much money you make me.”

Floyd whines, “I’m sad it wasn’t more interesting. You’ve already used that trick before.”

“The night isn’t over yet. There will be more,” Jade replies with a smirk.

The other eel perks up.

From behind you, Deuce pipes up.

“Sebek could’ve come in sooner,” he sighs.

“I’m not surprised he didn’t realize he needed to yell,” Ace snorts next to him, “He’s as dense as a brick.”

“Henchman! I want food!!” Grim demands.

You laugh and follow his orders, hand in hand with your husband.

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robinsgrl · 3 months ago

Text

FEARLESS

chapter two. begging and begging

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pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 2.5k

warnings ⇢ curse words, yn overthinking and panicking like usual, second hand embarrassment (i had to stop and pace for a second but that’s me idk), a glimpse of daddy issues y’all its ingrained in me

authors note ⇢ hey……….. i personally am loving this story and hope you are too! i’ve compiled a bit of a taglist but i am very bad at keeping track or forgetting to add to my list so if you aren’t being tagged despite asking that of me, please remind me, preferably through private messaging since the comments can get kinda muddled to me 😭

────────────────────────

Logically, you know you’re not into JJ. He’s cute and funny, sure. But he’s no Jonah. Yet, his message made you nervous. Beyond nervous. You’ve never had any guy speak to you in such a flirty way. Or, send a text like that. You were used to pity compliments from other girls who felt it was their duty as girls who support other girls. So when you sneak out through your window frame and meet his eyes as he stands down on the grass with Kie and Sarah, you play it off as just being nervous. Which you are.

You’ve been at this for five minutes. The girls and JJ are trying to coax you into just coming down. But the distance looks insane from where you sit.

“I’m gonna die!” You whisper-yell down to them. They’re looking up at you with expectant looks, urging you to hop down.

“You’re not gonna die.” Kiara rolls her eyes but you can’t care for any of that as you take another peek down and scare yourself some more.

“My bones are going to shatter.”

“That sounds pretty cool, actually.” Sarah sends a smack to JJ’s chest, wanting him to shut up.

She looks up at you sweetly. “It’s really not a big drop, just put your hands out and jump. Trust, it’s easy.”

You slip down the steep roof part near your window and you let out a little yelp. Immediately, JJ gets to his feet and rushes to where you could possibly land and holds his arms out. This makes a bigger wave of embarrassment flush through you. He’s not the buffest and you’re sure you’re twice his size. To have him stumble and unable to catch you would ruin you. You’d beg your mother to let you go and live with your aunts back in California and never show your face in any Carolina. It’d be too risky to go to either.

The girls are yelling out to you. Something about being careful. That not being prepared for the jump will hurt. You’re panicking. Yelling out to them that you get it. JJ’s promising that he’ll catch you. Too much is going on at once.

“Your mother isn’t home.” The new voice breaks your chatter. The girls and JJ look up at you with wide eyes. You glance over from your window to another to see your step-father peeking his head out at the group and you. “You can just go out the front door.”

Kiara and JJ share a look as Sarah laughs. Your eyebrows furrow at his words. “You’re… you’re okay with this?”

He sighs, rubbing his face tiredly. “No. But you’re going to do it either way. I did a lot worse at your age than you’re doing now. Just… if your mom finds out, I didn’t know about any of this. Seriously, kid, I’ll throw you under the bus without a care.”

“Yo, your dads cool.”

“Step-dad.” You correct JJ. Usually, your mother would scold you for such a thing. There’s no step in a family, she would tell you. But it felt like a betrayal to your real father. You glance over at Anthony just in time to see a flicker of something pass through him.

He shrugs it off though, tapping the windowsill. “Just go through the front door before you break something.”

“Will—“ but you yell as you start slipping off the roof. The girls yell. JJ yells. You land in a thud, JJ’s arms wrapped around you as two tumble to the ground.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Anthony calls from the windowsill. When he gets no response, he waves his arm. “You’re fine. Don’t do drugs.” And he shuts the window.

You’re on your back now, looking up at the night sky. “Is she dead?” You hear Sarah ask.

“I wish I was.” You answer with a huff, your knees aching.

“Told you I’d catch you.” JJ hums with a smirk as he gets up off the floor, dusting off his cargo shorts and holding a hand out to you. “Come on. Pope’s drunk and you’re missing it.”

—

You’d never been to the boneyard before. Not to party, at least. Whenever there was a get together, a bonfire or a party, Scarlett would ask you to come with but you’d always say no. At some point, she stopped asking and you’d find out through Instagram that she was out with her cooler friends.

The bonfire is lit. There are people all over. People you’ve passed by all your years in Kildare but have never spoken to you. You felt the same towards the group you’re with but now… now they’re talking to you and laughing with you like they’ve all known each other for years.

You also never knew that Kook’s and Pogue’s could ever get along. But apparently they can when you’ve had a few cold ones. You’re sitting on a log with JJ on one side and John B on the other. Sarah’s sitting on John B’s lap, and you side eye it for a second, realizing that she and Topper really are done. You pay no mind to it afterwards and keep leaning up against JJ as he dramatically tells a story about his last time surfing, which was this morning, the kid living and breathing the sport.

Your eyes skim the grounds and your eyes immediately fall onto Rafe who’s standing around with his friends, beer at hand. Whatever his friends are saying is amusing him because he’s letting out a laugh, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes like he can’t believe it.

“She’s a pogue now.” JJ pulls you back into the group as he boasts about you. “Beat that Harlet girl.”

“Scarlett.” Sarah corrects the drunken guy.

“Whatever her name is. Can I say the b word?” He asks Kiara who shrugs lamely, taking a sip of her beer. “to beating bitches up!”

“JJ, why would you say that?”

“You just gave me permission!” He scoffs and turns back to you, hands squishing your cheeks and making you pucker up. “Look at that sexy shiner.”

You try to pull away from him with a laugh. If it were anyone else, the constant need to be touching you and being flirty would overwhelm you. But you’ve come to realize that he’s just an affectionate and flirtatious person. Plus, it’s very clear that he has his sights set on Kiara, with the longing looks he constantly sends her way.

“To my girlfriend!” JJ hollers far too loudly for your liking, eyes wide as you look at him, as he’s now dramatically standing on the log you were sitting on.

“N-not! Not his girlfriend!” You grab his hand and try to drag him to take a seat but he’s apparently a goddamn bulldozer when drunk.

Cleo and Pope are tending to the drunken guy when you find the chance to slip away. Luckily, you had brought yourself a sweater so walking down the shoreline at one in the morning isn’t the worst part of your night. It’s calm and cool now, the sound of chattering and music now becoming a distant noise, giving you the solace and warmth you need.

The path you’re on now is one you walked down with Scarlett by your side many times. It was never this late of course, always at a decent time with her dog on a leash before letting him run wild. You’d talk for hours. Despite the tension often felt from her remarks, you had a pleasant time. More than pleasant. Fun even. She’s a bad person. A mean person. A bully. But when it was just the two of you, she was just a girl. A girl with you. And you hate how easily she could have betrayed you.

A motion in the corner of your eye startles you out of your reminiscing thoughts. You see a figure rush between the trees and take notice of who it is. Rafe. If you were in a cartoon, you’d imagine a lightbulb drawn at the top of your head lit brightly. This was your shot. Your time to beg and beg until he agreed to take you under his wing.

With a small skip to your step, you follow after Rafe in between the few trees on the beach. You lose sight of him for a second before you spot him again. His back is facing you but what concerns you is how he’s kneeling to the ground. Carefully, you start approaching him.

“Hey,” you gently reach out and tap his shoulder. This startles him. And before you know it, you feel a thousand grains of sand in your eyes. You yell, hands immediately covering your eyes. “Oh my god! What the fuck?! What the fuck?!”

“Holy shit!” You hear him yell. The two of you are yelling now. You don't think you’ve ever heard such a big and tough man like him yell in the way he does. So high pitched. Or maybe that’s just you. But you’re in too much pain to pay any attention. “Why would you fucking creep up on me?!”

“I thought you weren’t okay!”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?!”

“Cause you were kneeling on the floor like a freak!”

“How does that make me a—“

“I think I'm going blind! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” You can’t help but cry out, unable to open your eyes fully because of the sand in them. “Why the fuck would you throw sand in my eyes?!”

“I thought I was being attacked!”

“I only touched your shoulder! Do you think an attacker would lightly tap your shoulder to attack you?! Take me to the hospital!” You’re screeching. You know this. But you can’t open your eyes and this means to panic. Or at least, it is to you.

He sighs, calming down. Or not. You can’t see anything, eyes shut tight. The way the sand grains feel in your eyes only drives you even deeper into a panic. “You don’t need to go to the hospital.”

“Then the eye doctor!”

“It’s one in the morning.”

“Oh my god, I’m never gonna see anything ever again! Do you know how much I like to see things?!”

“I’m assuming a lot?”

“A lot! Oh my—“

“Stop saying ‘oh my god’. Fuck, do you have any other phrase?”

You scoff, eyes still covering your eyes which wouldn’t be able to open either way. “Just help me!”

“Fuck, fine! I’ll help you!” You jump when his hand grabs your wrist, tugging one of your hands off of your face. You figured he would tug and drag you behind him but you’re pleasantly surprised that he’s carefully guiding you through the thick trees and what seems to be back to the boneyard. When your feet hit asphalt, you’re sure you’re in the parking lot, taking you to his truck.

“Just… stay here.” He advises you as your back presses up against the cold touch of a vehicle. You heard a car door click open, some scrounging, the door shuts and he’s back in front of you. You’re not sure what he’s doing as he stands across from you, eyes still shut tight. It’s quiet for a moment except for the sound of distant waves crashing.

“Hello?” You reach out shakily, unsure of where exactly he is. Your hand meets his face in a light smack and he pushes your hand off.

“Get off of me.”

“What the fuck are you doing just standing there? Help me!”

You hear him sigh heavily, the sound of his shoes on asphalt. You aren’t sure what you were expecting but his hand taking a hold of your face, big hand sprawled over your chin and onto your cheeks, puckering your lips out softly isn’t it. It’s oddly tender for a man who’s supposed to be abrasive. “I’m gonna need you to open your eyes for a second. Gonna flush ‘em out with water, alright?”

You have no words, you simply nod gently, opening your slightly burning eyes for him to flush them out. It takes a few gushes of water for your eyes to no longer feel grainy. The sleeve of your sweater is rubbing at your eyes tirelessly, the stinging unbearable. His hand grabs your wrist, pulling you away from your eyes again. “Stop doing that. It’s going to worsen it.”

You glare at him. The blurry version of him from how teary and red your eyes are. “It wouldn’t be bad in the first place if—“

“If you didn’t sneak up on me like a stalker.” His harsh words don’t deter you. His tone would have last week but not anymore. Normally, you'd feel a flutter of embarrassment or shame but after all that's happened in the past 48 hours, you can't find it in you to care.

“A stalker?! God, I just wanted to talk to you. You were kneeling over on the ground like you found a dead fucking puppy. Forgive me for wanting to check up on you.”

“This is a good lesson for you, kid—“

“Kid? Seriously?”

“A lesson to mind your own every now and then.”

You scoff but have no retort to throw back, tired and stinging eyes taking him in. His face is strong as usual, little to no emotion shown in them, even with the ridiculous sight of your extremely reddened eyes and roughed up face, he shows nothing. You wonder why he is the way he is for a second before snapping back into reality. “You owe me for this.”

“Is this that “make you hot“ bullshit?” He snorts out what you think is a laugh. But he would never so you can’t find it in you to stew over it.

“Yeah and wh—“

“I’m not making you hot.”

“Ugh, please! Look, I really need this! And you almost blinded me so you have to.”

“I don’t have to do shit. You put your nose in someone else’s business, that’s what leads to sand in your eyes.”

“Yeah, but—“ you try again but he easily shuts you up by putting a single hand up, palm to your face. A look of amusement flashes through his eyes when he realizes it actually worked and you’re too worked up to fight back. You’re about to speak and he’s about to decline and fight you again when another voice speaks up.

“Yo, fight club!” John B calls out to you, a sleeping Sarah on his back. Beside him, Pope and Cleo are placating a tearful JJ as he hangs off their shoulders between the two of them. Kiara is wearing a random hat that reads ‘Fish Fear Me’, probably stolen by JJ and now a trophy for her. “We’re leaving.”

You turn to speak to Rafe but he’s already gotten into his truck and with a loud sigh of defeat, you walk over to your new group of friends. Kiara brings her arm over your shoulder easily, putting the hat she had on top of your head with a bright smile. They’re talking about god knows what as your eyes turn back to Rafe’s truck one last time. And you’re not sure if you’re making it up but you swear your eyes meet through the slide glass before he drives off.

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taglist. @pinkyqily @chalahyung01 @lunalvrsblog @teenwolfbitches28 @jayjsbaby @yawnzshit @mytimeiswaiting @tsshifting @always-reading @chimchimjiminie16 @ayy1234567 (if your name is red, im not able to tag you and im not sure why, sorry!!)

#rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smau #rafe cameron social media au #rafe cameron texts #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron #obx x reader #obx x you #outer banks #obx social au #obx smau #obx social media au #obx socials

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messrmoonyy · 1 year ago

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-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea

Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur Morgan

- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you

- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.

- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3

- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.

- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.

- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.

- Forehead kisses!!!!!

- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.

- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you

NSFW

- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.

- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him

- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “

- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.

- Refuses to finish before you ever.

- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “

- Grips The headboard.

John Marston

- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.

- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘

- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.

- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.

- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.

- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.

- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.

- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.

NSFW

- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.

- Not very serious most of the time.

- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.

- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.

- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.

- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.

- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.

Dutch Van Der Linde

- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.

- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.

- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.

- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.

- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.

- Reads to you a lot.

- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.

NSFW

- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur

- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.

- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde

- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.

- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.

- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “

- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.

- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.

- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.

Sadie Adler

- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.

- Shes just so sweet to you.

- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat

- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.

- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.

- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.

- Big spoon.

NSFW

- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom

- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While

- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you

- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “

- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.

- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.

- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time

- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.

Molly O’Shea

- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.

- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being

- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “

- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.

- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red

- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes

- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.

- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.

NSFW

- Pillow princess. End of story.

- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes

- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.

- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.

- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.

- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.

- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.

- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.

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obxanon · 4 months ago

Text

Addressing the OBX drama and the speculations:

Was JJ’s Death planned?

No, Rudy asked to leave the show. It wasn’t something the writers planned. He didn’t want to renew, the writers were rightfully upset and then decided to kill JJ off.

Did the writers/producers create an uncomfortable set?

No, they didn’t. This post is not true. The brothers were never inappropriate.

Was Madison a bully on set?

I’ve seen a post going around of someone saying Madison was a bully, controlling the set, and bluntly treating Rudy and crew members like crap. That is NOT true.

Was Rudy’s decision sudden?

Yes and No. No as in he let the Pates know ahead of time he didn’t want to continue (some time during the strike, so they had time to change what was already written). Yes, as in they were shocked by it.

Was there on set drama between Rudy and the Pates?

Yes, there was many disagreements/personal problems during s4. Yes, Elaine was involved and so was Lilah Pate. They are civil now.

Why did every ship but Jiara get a still?

The jiara still does exist but idk why it was not released. My source doesn’t know either and I don’t want to spread something not true. Rudy and Madison took pictures just like everybody else did.

Why did the cast chemistry seem off in part 2?

They shot episodes 1-5 first, THEN 10, then 6-9. The cast didn’t know rudy asked to leave until they received the script for episode 10. You can tell there was a drastic change between JJ and Kiara in part 2 because after the cast found out, Madison was upset with Rudy and his decision, so she didn’t put in as much effort into the scenes with him. She was upset because she knew that would mean the near end of obx and her character… in a way.

Was there alternate endings?

Yes, but that was only because they wanted to see if rudy would change his mind. There was even scenes where a funeral was shot (obviously they didn’t air it so I’m assuming they’re saving it for s5). From March-June of 2024, they spent the entire time doing reshoots of some scenes. That is why some things don’t make sense.

Did Rudy and Madison talk on set?

Yes, but not closely or anything. They’re not friends, they just did the scenes they had to do and that was it. All those people saying they’re hiding their friendship from the cameras or whatever… that is not true sorry. The pates can’t force them to act like best friends as long as they were doing their scenes.

Why did Jiara have “less” than everybody else?

It’s true that Jiara scenes were toned down. Part of it was Rudy asking for it. Madison didn’t care as much. Another part was just Rudy and Madison not doing more than what the script asked.

Was Elaine uncomfortable with Jiara scenes?

Yes, and she has been since s2. It got worse during s3 and obviously s4. That was part of the conflict.

What is the Rudy and Madison Drama?

Obviously what happened between them is private. It wasn’t the fans. The fans were more so the catalyst to something that had been brewing.

It is true that the girlfriends are involved and that they weren’t happy. Madison hurt Rudy, but not by being a bully. It was emotionally. The feeling was then returned on his end and it just got worse from there. It didn’t help when the girlfriends and fans were involved. It is true that it’s not a coincidence this happened when they both got involved with relationships. Most of you have speculated correctly, that is all I will say. I think you know by now what I’m trying to say.

Also when I say fans, I don’t mean the “shipping.” They never cared about that. What I do mean is that all this drama happened when Jiara fans were at their peak. Them wanting to see those characters together put Rudy and Madison in a problematic situation because they knew they couldn’t avoid each other on screen. Instead they just did so off screen.

Should the Writers/ Directors/ Producers stepped in?

Yes, but what I need you guys to understand is that these writers were basically father figures to those actors. They watched them grow their careers, supported them, made them who they are now. It’s hard when you spent so much time with each other and became a genuine family. Even their conflict with Elaine was hard because Jonas knew her family, his wife treated her like a daughter, and lilah treated her like a sister. They had every right to be bitter because from their POV, it’s basically like “hey I trusted you to bring my project to life and now I’m being forced to go in a direction I never wanted to go in.”

What’s going on behind the scenes right now?

A mess. They knew it would be bad but infact it is worse and they know that.

Am I reliable?

Honestly I don’t care if you believe me or not. You didn’t before and I got attacked (literal death threats in my inbox). I’m just a messenger. I’ve given you info before and clearly I didn’t lie about it. It’s up to you to decide.

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thedreamlessnights · 1 year ago

Note

Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so

Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!

For Your Eyes Only

Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW

Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.

Word Count: 5.8k

After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.

You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it.

The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing.

Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.

What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.

Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long.

The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.

A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.

Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”

Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path.

“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”

“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”

“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”

And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.

“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel.

You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face.

Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.

When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.

“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.

“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”

Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch.

“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “You’re hurting her! Put her down!”

“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”

But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.

Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now.

“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”

“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.

“Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.”

Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same.

Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.

“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.

“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”

By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel.

The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”

It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best.

Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.

The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too.

You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees.

Nothing. You find nothing.

“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”

“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?”

He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”

“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”

A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”

Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.”

“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”

“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”

“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”

The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.

“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.

“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”

“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That’s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”

You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud.

“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”

You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.

You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.

Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.

When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything.

Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”

But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound.

Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.

Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?

Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.

In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”

Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood.

“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”

Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”

“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?”

Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”

He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.

There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.

When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.

The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision.

You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?

Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.

“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”

You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.

“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.

He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue.

Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.

He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.

Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind.

You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.

He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething.

And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.

After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief.

You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.

“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”

He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps.

You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him.

After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck.

Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.

One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.

When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.

Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.

You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.

“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”

“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.

“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”

“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.

And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.

You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it.

Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.

He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.

He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.

And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-

And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.

“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”

Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.

“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”

He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”

You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”

He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”

He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-

Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand.

You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.

Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again.

He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot.

For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.

You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.

“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”

And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.

“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.

“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment.

You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements.

Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.

You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble.

If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire.

He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.

Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”

You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”

He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.

“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”

Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals.

His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.

You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, darling.”

And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.

You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.

You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.

“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”

And, gods, all you can do is laugh.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #mywriting

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wheneverfeasible · 4 months ago

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Wiggly Wednesday?

The brain worms are here again.

I honestly hate Christmas and avoid doing too much for it. However, an idea came to me suddenly and I can’t stop thinking about…

Secret Santa Steddie AU.

In one of Steve’s high school classes senior year, they’re assigned a Secret Santa project. They all put their names in a Santa hat and have to draw one out (returning it for another if it’s their own) and that’s the person they have to secretly give a gift to, either homemade or purchased, but there’s a cap of like…whatever the equivalent of $20 today is back then. Idk.

This is supposed to be a team building type of exercise, something to foster camaraderie, after say maybe a huge argument/fight broke out between Tommy and his group and the Freak, Eddie Munson, as well as some other nerds. Steve is exhausted and doesn’t care for Tommy’s bullshittery anymore, so he didn’t really get involved, though Eddie did throw a few digs his way. Which was hurtful but probably deserved.

Anyways, Steve draws out Eddie’s name.

For the next week or so the last fifteen minutes of class are devoted to questionnaires and such where the students answer questions about themselves directly or they fill in answers to widely asked questions, all used to let the Secret Santas learn about their recipients. Some people take it more seriously than others.

Steve gets to know more about Eddie, who is more blasé about it all, obviously not expecting anyone to give him something good (if they give him anything at all) since he has no friends in the class and most people don’t like him. So Steve, who has never paid Eddie any amount of attention before in the past but has been now and finds himself intrigued, starts observing Eddie outside of class.

Steve knows he could buy Eddie something music related. An easy cop-out gift. But the more he observes Eddie, the more he gets to see the tiny cracks in the Freak persona whenever he spies on him, sees the nerdy but also kind person beneath the leather jacket. And…okay…maybe he starts to develop a sort of crush without realizing that’s what happens.

Maybe he bribes other nerds about Hellfire Club and Eddie and makes certain they don’t squeal about him asking (he doesn’t realize he comes off as threatening, he just thinks he’s being urging), maybe he hears Eddie mention things and then he goes and asks Dustin what they mean, learning it’s from a book series about midgets and some jewelry or whatever, and so an idea forms.

While shuttling the kids about after school, Steve asks Will if he’d be willing to draw something for him, which Steve would pay him for. Will, obviously excited because it’s his first commission job and Steve pays him fairly, agrees.

(Steve may also purchase a patch at the record store they stop at—Will’s request as he wants to buy something for Jonathan—because it reminds him of Eddie, but that doesn’t matter.)

Yadda yadda ya, it’s time to exchange gifts. The teacher has allowed them to drop them off leading up to the Friday before winter vacation to keep the mystery alive.

When Eddie gets his, he’s expecting something more like a prank gift. Instead, he’s gifted a colored drawing (sadly not enough time for a painting) of Eddie dressed as someone named something like Spider or Arrow Gone or whatever, Steve doesn’t really know, but it’s him fighting off a horde of monster things with a flaming eyeball in the background and further back is an erupting volcano.

Steve doesn’t know what the hell is going on, not really able to absorb the massive info dump Dustin gave him, but Will assured Steve that the dude was cool and the battle depicted was awesome and important when he dropped off his old yearbook for model reference. Will’s opinion was enough for Steve of course. He just hoped Eddie liked it, and the patch that he rolled up with the picture.

Eddie is, of course, gobsmacked and trying his hardest not to show it. He scans the classroom to try to figure out who could have given him such an amazing gift, but no one even looks at him. There’s no way he would ever suspect the truth.

Steve ended up getting a can of Farrah Fawcett spray, which everyone laughed at and assumed was a joke gift for a jock, but Steve noticed a small twitch of a smile on Tommy’s face, the only one besides Dustin now who knows his secret.

Later, Eddie’s battle vest is adorned with the patch he received in his gift, a red and black Leviathan cross, but Steve doesn’t know what happened to the drawing. He hopes it didn’t get trashed.

It’s not until later, after everything with Vecna and recovering what was salvageable from the trailer, that he found the picture safely secured behind a glass frame hidden in Eddie’s room. It’s only then that Steve realizes that he might have been a little bit in love with Eddie “the Freak” Munson all this time.

Aaaaaaaah sorry this is a little bit of a nebulous ending here. Does this story follow canon and Eddie is dead, never knowing who his Secret Santa is? Or is Eddie recovering from his injuries, fated to recognize Will’s art style and thus learning the truth behind one of his most prized possessions? Who’s to say 🤷

I’m just gonna tag my perma list because I’m lazy. Anyone can be happy to consider this a tag for their own future brain worms tho!

Hostage Hotties:

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife

@everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes

#wiggly wednesday #brain worms #secret santa au #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #light angst #vague ending #open ending #plot thots

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remotewatch · 8 months ago

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handprints, footprints all on my glass

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1.6k wc

minors dni please and thanks, this is hag business

summary: it’s a short ride from the afterparty to the airport, theoretically

cw: shameless smut, she comes first 💪, dry humping, dom reader sorta, pathetic simp Jack enjoyers make some noise!!!, oral (f receiving), fingering, we’re degrading him a bit whoops, accidental vabbing (?????) girl idk, reader wears the pants not the panties, they’re in one of those Mercedes vans, wear your seatbelts everywhere but here

The jet lag was undoubtedly winning. As luck would have it, the busiest weeks of the year for you and Jack overlapped nearly entirely. It had been nonstop flights, engagements, meetings, press releases, dinner parties, galas, openings of buildings for charities for either dogs or orphans, orphaned dogs maybe, for so long you’d entirely lost track and were ever thankful that most of your speaking assignments were behind you. This last afterparty had fried you both; you didn’t have a single networking conversation left in you. Collapsed opposite you in the jump seat, Jack looked just as spent as you felt.

Of course, he still looked too good. It was fucking sweltering in that venue, and he had loosened his evergreen evening tie and slightly unbuttoned his dress shirt the very second you were shielded by the limo tint. Faint wisps of chest hair peered out from the opening, a fresh tan making his teeth look even whiter. Gun to your head, he’d had his pants taken in too much at the hips, but you’d never say anything that would threaten such a view.

There wasn’t time for that; you were in the home stretch of this hell month and had a packed 16 hour day tomorrow. One last email once over, and you could abandon your work iPad and pass out for the flight back to New York.

“Have you been like that all night?” he asks tentatively.

“Like what?” There’s no immediate response, so you look up from checking tomorrow’s agenda to see Jack shamelessly staring up your cocktail dress at your lack of underwear. The spell breaks when you recross your legs and playfully kick his shin.

“Eyes up here. So what if I was?”

Jack blinks dumbly at you and clears his throat. His eyebrows draw together out of confusion.

“But I saw you get dressed this morning. Where’s that pair I just bought you?”

“They’re wrapped in your pocket square. Did you forget to switch it out for a dry one before lunch?” you ask, holding back a shit-eating grin.

It’s hard to deny the rush you get watching Jack go pale and fish the handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his discarded suit jacket, still sticky from cleaning you up a few hours ago. Sure enough, there’s a crumpled La Perla thong cradled in the middle. You interrupt his stuttering protests when you kick your pumps off and slide a foot up his leg.

“Oh please, like you don’t love walking around smelling like me.”

“I do,” his ears are turning red. “but I hugged like twenty people today!”

“Page six has been trying to pin down that musky “cologne” you use for ages. I think you’re safe.” You briefly wonder if you’re leaking onto the leather seats, but that train of thought is halted by Jack’s hand reaching to remove his tie.

“Keep it on.”

He snaps to attention at the direct order.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I like my handle.”

“Do you come with an off switch?”

Break lights flash on in the surrounding lanes. Just your luck; it’s complete gridlock in the few miles between here and the airpark. Maybe there was a little time.

Your foot slides higher, and Jack hisses through his teeth at the contact.

“Why don’t you try and find it?”

There’s barely a millisecond of hesitation before he falls onto you, licking stripes of sweat off your skin from your cleavage to your cheekbones. As always, he’s loud in the way that only a guy who never gets told to shut the fuck up can be: every breath shudders its way out, and he’s basically whimpering into your mouth by the time he gets there, louder when his right hand finds you, in fact, dripping all over the seat. You doubt you’ll ever get used to how thick his fingers are, or the vulgar noises they make when he’s showing off his grip strength knocking on your g spot.

He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up for the afterparty, but his watch was still squarely in the splash zone, and for the briefest of moments you wonder if it’s as waterproof as the cheaper ones he wears surfing. The thought is quickly pushed aside as Jack works you until you’re jolting off the seat trying to get his fingers deeper.

One good yank on his hair gets him off your neck, and he’s so dazed and fucked out already that you almost cum right there.

“Someone looks hungry,” you tease.

“Fuck, please let me-“ He’s cut off by the van suddenly lurching forward and throwing you both off balance, leaving only your vice grip on his tie keeping him in place. There’s a filthy squelch when he pulls his fingers out to suck them clean as he sinks down to his knees. It’s so warm that your dress is sticking to your thighs, and he rapidly loses patience trying to slide it up to your waist.

“This is a rental!” you squeal when the fabric rips, spraying sequins all over the floor. Jack doesn’t even flinch and wraps his lips snugly around your clit.

“Whatever, I’ll buy it,” he mumbles without breaking contact. You find yourself sliding down the sweat slick leather to grind against his face, and he has the nerve to lean back to watch your hips buck desperately.

“I love when you chase it,” he grins. Without missing a beat, you lock your legs around his head and shut him up against you.

“Don’t fucking tease me. I’m not the one humping the floor like a dog.” The mumbly, docile “sorry” that vibrates through you is the hottest thing he’s said all day. And he really is, if his overly enthusiastic slurping indicates anything. Those rapid, precise little strokes of his tongue always froth you up like he’s got a mouthful of soap. By the time you get tired of spelling your name on his nose and shove him to the floor to straddle his face, he’s completely lathered in you.

He lets out a little bleat of surprise when you roughly grab his hair and start manhandling him as if he’s a wet wipe, though he really should expect it by now. Normally, you’d be distractingly aware of the very real possibility the driver can hear the way you’re snarling his name, but time is not on your side right now. The last break lights recede, leaving the compartment only lit by dim blue under-seat bulbs. Your movements grow more frenzied; you’re totally disregarding Jack’s lung capacity and not even aiming for his mouth anymore, just using his whole face like it’s all he’s made for. Right as you begin to worry you have nothing left in the tank due to the lunch commute, a muffled, drawn-out “please” from beneath you sends you tumbling right over the edge. Your orgasm hits you more like a tranquilizer than anything else as the last dregs of your energy drench his face.

As soon as he feels your contractions lessen, he’s tossing you off to sit on his thighs and fumbling with his belt buckle. The van makes a hard right turn onto the final road to the airpark, and Jack lets out a frustrated groan knowing the clock is ticking. Still, he knows not to get in your way when you shove his hands away and slide right back on top of his dick, so hard you can feel the heat radiating through the fabric. You know you’re fucking up his dress pants grinding on him like this, but if nothing else, the linen will dry fast.

“I’m sleeping on the plane whether you finish or not, so make it work.” He doesn’t have enough time to be pissed at you, and he knows it. The sight of him so desperately rutting up against you is nearly enough to get you there all over again. All the tendons in his neck stand out as he presses his lips together trying to focus. His legs splay frantically in an attempt to ground himself, one jet black Oxford wedging under the jump seat and the other pressed flat against the far window. Jack’s head tips back and his eyes screw up in concentration, but you can’t have that, no matter how tasty his Adam’s apple looks. You loop his tie around your hand one more time and yank him back to earth,

“Uh-uh. Look at me when I’m making you cum.” That’ll do it. His expression softens then freezes as his eyes unfocus and his mouth falls open. He sounds downright melodic when he cums, just one long note that gets bounced up and down the scale before trailing off to a whine, and you relish every little twitch of him spilling into his pants, so far from you but certainly close enough.

The van rolls to a stop, and suddenly it’s a fumbling nightmare of you both trying to fish your shoes out from under the seats and smooth each others hair. You snatch Jack’s blazer to cover the rip in your dress, shove the iPad and pocket square-thong mess into your work bag, and throw the door open with what you hope is a believable amount of nobody-get-between-me-and-my-lie-flat-seat urgency.

Wobbly legs insist you grab his hand to step out of the van, and, of course, there’s a fucking pap pressed to the tarmac fence. Jack’s reflexes don’t stand a chance at turning him away in time after what you’ve put him through. When the flash catches his face, you can only look horrified as it perfectly captures the shine you’ve left on him.

Gossipy headlines and vague, tasteful PR statement drafts are already zipping through your head. Add it to the agenda: 16.5 hour day incoming.

#jack schlossberg #I have so much to do and instead I’m here #objectifying this little Ken doll #if you notice the phrases I struggle not to repeat #you did not #not my fault there aren’t enough words out there #jack schlossberg x reader

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wonderjanga · 3 months ago

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Billy's Gears/Modes Inspired by the post where you say he is far more serious when doing 'Champion of Magic' work. What other personality shifts might Billy go through that seem drastic and terrifying to Green Lantern and the Flash? Broke Billy might do something weirder and more drastic than just stealing more. or maybe after seeing movies he becomes more dangerous by imitating physics defying cgi on the job

Private justifications that cause drastic observable "unexplainable" shifts in how Marvel behaves (I doubt Billy is aware of the shifts in behaviour but Mary might notice the patterns) idk "the many faces of marvel"

I love this idea! Lemme see what I can do with it!

There is something wrong with her brother. Mary knows it. She doesn’t know what exactly it is, but she knows it’s something. Whatever it is, it not only affects her brother, but his Marvel form. It seems she’s not the only person who noticed these personality shifts too.

Flash, GL, and Marvel: *fighting Adam in Fawcett*

Black Adam: *mentions something about Billy’s parents*

Marvel: *looks more mad than Flash or GL have ever seen in their lives*

That’s how they ended up just standing to the side as Marvel was on top of Adam, beating his face in. He looked like a wild animal. A rabid dog if you will. Wow.

GL: *from like 20 feet away summons a hand to pat Marvel’s shoulder* “Hey, man? I think you got him…?”

Marvel: “NO, I DON’T!”

Flash and GL: *flinch*

Flash: “Oh okay. Our bad.”

As an apology, he ended up taking them out for milkshakes.

Marvel: “Guys I’m so sorry you had to see that side of me.”

Flash: “It’s- it’s fine. Do you let that side of you out normally?”

Marvel: “I try not to.”

GL: “I see. I see.” *nods head*

Then, there’s the time Freddy, Mary, and Billy snuck into a movie house to watch a thief movie. Billy got inspired to rob Ebenezer.

Billy: *humming the mission impossible theme as he sneaks through one of Eben’s windows*

Mary: “This is extremely unethical. Are you sure you’re pure of heart?”

Billy: “Yup.” *barely listening*

Mary: “So where’s the money?”

Billy: “What money?”

Mary: “The money we’re stealing? I was under the impression we were gonna steal money cause we’re broke.”

Billy: “Oh. No. No no no. We’re stealing this.” *stops at a drawer and pulls out Eben’s cane looking straight up evil*

Mary: *jaw on the damn floor* “Are you serious?”

Billy: “Yup. Now cmon.” *hums the mission impossible theme again as he heads back to the window*

Later…

Billy: *back to being the chipper little guy he normally is*

Mary: *shakes her head* “How do you do that?”

Billy: “Do what?”

Mary: “Go from being normal to evil then back to normal?”

Billy: “What? How am I evil?”

Mary: “Billy, you stole an old man’s cane. That’s evil.”

Billy: “Nuh uh. It’s Ebenezer.”

Mary: *sort of understands but still thinks he’s evil* “Okay.”

After a couple more flash instances of him being evil or angry for a couple moments around friends or family. Someone finally asked the question of what was wrong with him. Specifically, Flash and GL went up to Junior and Mary to pop the question.

Flash: “Hey uh… Kids? Does Cap have some kind of instability or condition or something?”

Junior: “Uh no, what are you talking about?” *looks him up and down like he’s stupid*

Flash: *feels stupid* “Well, uh-”

Mary: “You mean the personality shifts right?”

GL: “Yes!”

Junior: “The what?”

Mary: “B- uh Marvel sometimes does this entire like 180 into a different personality because he either feels really strongly about something or he’s just really focused on something.”

Flash: “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about! What uh what’s up with that?”

Mary: “To be honest, I don’t really know. He just gets like that under certain circumstances. Don’t worry though. They’re normally rare circumstances.”

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #mary batson #mary bromfield

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chenlezip · 3 months ago

Text

tell your friends ♡

⤷ summary : you tell your friends you hate him but you can't get enough.

warnings : smoker!reader + smoker!hyuck (my baddd), swearing, not proof read.. idk what else ngl.. >_<

annas note : literally just got this idea because im listening to music while writing and.. chase atlantic came on, heard that line and thought, hell yeah i know what i'm gonna write. also lil smau? idk? im also really craving a sex on the beach now.. *lets out a heavy sigh* beggars can’t be choosers..

and… here you are, stood outside a random club waiting for your friends to come meet you. you were clad in a cute jean mini skirt, a bralette with a small cardigan on and knee high boots; obviously paired with cute accessories and having your hair done nicely, what if you saw a cute boy? you had to be prepared.

as you waited, you had a look at all the people who were heading inside, they were dressed just as good. i guess this club is where all the attractive people go, huh? you thought to yourself before you noticed one man who looked oddly very familiar. fuck, it’s haechan.

haechan noticed you out the corner of his eye as he waited outside with a friend, smirking and nudging the boy beside him, eyeing your direction. the boy looked over and noticed you, he looked stunned almost, immediately turning back around to haechan and whispering. you wondered what they were talking about but before you could go over, you heard karina screaming your name.

“y/n! oh my god!” she smiled as she ran toward you, engulfing you into a tight hug. it’s been a while since you’ve all seen each other so it was nice to finally get to hang with your girls again. “i’ve missed you guys so much, ugh.. you all look so good!”

“as do you!! i can’t wait to get fucked up tonight, i’ve already pre booked a taxi so do nottt worry~ i’ve got us covered, it’ll be coming 2am so we should leave early just to make sure we get it alright,” giselle explained to you all as you nodded in return, “i can give you some money toward it when i’m not wasted - just let me know, okay?” you smile as she shook her head.

“no need y/n, it’s my treat, come on!” giselle dragged you and the girls inside, sitting in a booth and scouring through the drinks menu. “i don’t know what to get.. everything sounds good,” ningning mumbled as she looked at the rest of you, “anyone know what they’re getting?”

“i’m just gonna get a sex on the beach - always my go to,” you spoke up as you waited for the others to be done deciding. once you all were, you ordered and had them delivered to the table, thanking the waiter who brought them over.

──── ୨୧ ────

you excuse yourself from the girls for a moment, wanting some fresh air and to light up a cigarette. you were dying for one and the alcohol in your system wasn’t helping your case either. as soon as you stepped out the club, you felt the night air hitting you and you let out a soft sigh. the wind made you feel a little bit more sober. you spark up a cig and place it between your lips, inhaling and breathing in the smoke. oh, how you missed this.

“got a spare?” you recognise that voice from anywhere. you gaze up and see haechan standing just opposite you, a lazy grin on his face as he stared you up and down. you just give him the one you were just smoking and spark up another. “thanks.” he says as he leans against the wall beside you.

“no problem,” you respond coldly as you look away, trying to find anything other than him to look at but you can’t help your eyes from wandering back.. he looked good tonight. his floppy brown hair was slicked back nearly, his golden skin glistening under the street light that was outside the club, a leather jacket and his white shirt adorning his body. you swore to yourself the last time you saw haechan that you still hated him.. but he knows otherwise and deep inside, so do you.

“still claiming you hate me then?” he eyed you, turning to lean on his shoulder now. you cough, “what?” you didn’t expect him to ask you that out of the blue. “you tell your friends you hate me but i know you can’t get enough, y/n, you’re not very secretive with it, huh?” he blew smoke out into the air. you focused on the way his lips parted a little, his jaw.. his adam’s apple.

you shake your head, “you’re seeing things lee donghyuck, maybe you should see someone for these delusions?” he just laughed in your face and threw his (your) cigarette to the ground, “yeah.. maybe i should, huh? but i won’t if you come crawling back again tonight,” he says before stepping on it to put it out properly and walking back inside the club. you go on your phone after he’s left and quickly type something on twitter, posting it to your private account.

you decide to head back inside and you just can’t seem to get your mind off of him, your eyes wandering around the club to find him. you see he’s got a pretty girl slung around him, she’s pressing her body up against him. never mind, you definitely hate him, why were you even starting to like a frat boy anyway? hello?

#haechan smut imagines #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader smut #nct dream smut #lee donghyuck x reader #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck x reader smut #nct dream x reader imagine #haechan smut #lee haechan smut

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t-tomuras · 3 months ago

Text

⛏ ─── • 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬

Pairing: Gyuutaro Shabana x F!reader

Warnings: Modern au, mostly gyuutaro pov, self-depricating thoughts (gyuutaro), use of petnames (baby, pretty thing, pretty girl), 'brat' mention, male masturbation (non descript), mild dry humping, fingering, oral (m+f receiving), messy blowjob / face / throat fucking, panty stealing, praise, mention of breeding, biting, idk lotta plot with some porn

Wordcount: 16.6k

Notes: Please don’t look too hard this is just a giant self-indulgent love letter to this man. Not thoroughly beta read, be gentle 🥹

He hates this job, he really does. The flood of faces day in and day out, the monotony of the same insipid meaningless pleasantries exchanged against his will lest his plucky little barely twenty one year old party animal manager tries to scold him for being ‘unfriendly’. It’s infuriating, to say the least, and he simply isn’t paid enough for it despite the obscene amount of hours he takes up because his boss (that never even sets foot into the independently owned store) refuses to hire anyone extra.

Gyuutaro barely makes rent either, he’s thankful his roommate covers it without complaint when he can’t even though he hardly ever expresses any gratitude for it; he’s hardly ever home with how much shit he has to take care of. At this point the apartment was just proof of address because good luck getting a job when you’re homeless; he should know.

Plus, why should he thank the striped asshole anyway? The room dedicated to him was only a fulfilled favor from the man’s brattle girlfriend and self-proclaimed sister of sorts but Gyuutaro didn’t refute the statement either. Hakuji wasn’t exactly a welcoming man but he’d do anything for his little ‘princess’ so his headache is Gyuutaro’s gain, for what it was worth anyway.

He’d probably save more money if he didn’t send nearly every dime he had to his biological sister to ensure she never went without. A weekly ritual of scraping together what he can to give Ume as an allowance for whatever she so desired, things her scholarship doesn’t cover because he’ll be damned if his pride and joy would ever go without.

Even if that meant pinching pennies and skipping meals often to do so. It’s worth it to him, knowing she’ll be able to pursue her dream in clothing design and not have to take up a part time job to split her attention between. It’d be such a shame for her flawless face to bear the same dark circles that decorate his under eyes.

Thoughts like those are what get him through the doubles he pulls and minimal days off without killing anyone. Though, Gyuutaro swears he’ll hear the shrill ringing of cooler alarms along with the wretched chime of the convenience store doors opening and closing constantly in his sleep. He’ll probably hear it long after he quits, if he ever does.

Maybe the job wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to perform so much customer service; chatty elderly, rude and entitled soccer moms with their unruly little brats at six in the morning, burnouts that think they’re slick when they’re asking for cash back the second they walk inside and buy ninety-nine cent rolling paper. He hates it all, hates never being able to reach his boss and being expected to make judgement calls that are well above his pay grade like he gives more than a singular shit. Vendors and sales representatives coming and going with information on ads that he forgets the second they leave.

All but one; one rep that comes in never dressed in any uniform the company surely provides.

You always come in dressed casually where nobody would think you were working unless they’d seen you regularly. Black jeans because you “hate the work pants” with a plain black tee and a snapback hat that has your company’s logo embroidered professionally on the front with your hair pulled through the hole in the back while the fringe too short for the ponytail hangs from the sides, framing your face that you try and hide. You shake it up sometimes by wearing a company-provided jacket but only when it’s cold out or wearing your hair down entirely so it forces your hair to frame your face a little more than usual but he definitely prefers it like that. You always come in with a smile too, a sort of cheery that Gyuutaro would usually sneer at and waving to him behind the counter while making a beeline to the storeroom, grabbing a clipboard to sign in as proof that you even showed up in the first place even though he tells you often it didn’t matter. Gyuutaro was the only one ever here and if the teenager worked she’d call him a million times for questions she could figure out for herself but you flash him a playful little smile and tell him, “me signing in give her one less reason to call you on your day off.”

It didn’t though, the airhead would ask him where the sheet was despite it never moving from the same spot it’s always been in but he keeps that to himself.

You’re nice, that’s what he would say about you and probably the first and only kind word he’d used for anyone besides his sister for the first time in his entire life.

And it’s an objective truth, you’re incredibly friendly in a professional sense, he guessed anyway. Overly considerate as well. You asked about his day each time you spoke to one another but not in the obligatory way of menial conversation. You’re probably the only rep he even bothered to remember the name of, you’re the only one he’s ever taken the time to say more than two words to. Pretty too, objectively speaking of course, nice to look at so maybe that’s why he didn’t mind interacting with you more than the average person he was forced to deal with.

That’s the reasoning he gives himself anyway as Gyuutaro takes a second to look around the parking lot from the window, seeing if anyone else would come in before hopping over the counter and wandering over to the store room. It’s just to help you with whatever you’re doing, he’ll just see if you have any questions about inventory and then get back around to count the cigarettes or something; nothing more, nothing less.

You’re tapping something into your phone whenever he rounds the corner to the backroom, leaning against the doorframe with his hands shoved into the pouch at the front of his hoodie, the weight of them dragging the baggy material downward and giving him more space around his throat before clearing it ‘innocuously’’ to let you know he was there, sparing you from a fright. You look up for a second, face scrunched into a concentrated scowl that quickly melts into your usual soft look as you flash him a quick smile then get back to whatever you were doing on your phone.

“Yer kinda early today, huh?” kicking off from his perch as he ventures further into the room as you glance over all the inventory.

You’re scowling again whenever he gets closer, a short silence falling between you before you turn to him; nodding after heaving a bereft sigh after tucking your phone into your back pocket, “Yeah, reset guy called out so I’ve gotta do it instead because corporates breathing down our necks about the completion rate being so low. Boss told me he’ll cover anything else I have today but hey, I’ll get to bother you for a while.”

He can’t help but chuckle at the way you stick your tongue out at him as if you lingering for an extended amount of time could ever be a bad thing, continuing to babble about what you’ll have to do and what’s happening with all the products in the store. It sounds like a lot, obviously it is since your schedule was essentially cleared for it.

“You gonna’ need any help?” The question falls from his lips reflexively, surprising himself because he was never one to offer assistance to anyone, much more likely to make their lives harder and enjoy their suffering in the meantime.

The chime to the store's entrance doors rings when you open your mouth to answer, closing it quickly as you wave him goodbye with an apologetic smile as Gyuutaro rolls his eyes with a snarl to his lips. Pulling one hand from his front pocket and putting two fingers together at his temple paired with an exaggerated but muted explosion sound as he backs away from you to tend to the customer but he earns a cute, tinkling giggle from you over the semantics. He leaves you to your work while he helps the customer with whatever it is he’s needed to do. Put x amount on pump whatever, buying a ridiculous amount of junk food, vape stuff; whatever it is he’s not really paying attention while they’re talking to him and he pushes buttons on the register as that melodic sound plays on repeat in his head until you emerge from the back, his eyes on you instantly.

It’s obvious he’s staring at you, too, watching while you walk back and forth from the storeroom and between the aisles and displays of different products. Pushing standees around as kicking stacks to certain spots and bending over every so often to rotate perishable stock with a few choice words over the delivery drivers performances but it drains out quickly as Gyuutaro drinks you in.

And your shirt that usually drapes down to your ass rides up to reveal just a peek of lacy panties, making a pervert out of Gyuutaro quickly. Warming his chest with wandering thoughts that stray too far and end up carrying the heat in his veins until he has to shed the oversized hoodie.

Customers come in sporadically after that, keeping him tied to the register as he yells responses across the way to you the few times you poked your head around to ask him something. It’s about three hours whenever he’s finally able to actually move away from the counter and meet you in the storeroom where you’re tidying up, bent over yet again and his eyes instantly drag downward to enjoy the view but you sense his presence quickly enough.

Standing up just as quickly as crystalline hues flit to meet your gaze, saliva gathering on his tongue with the way you greet him so warmly like he weren’t just ogling you for the umpteenth time today.

“Hey!” chirped as you toed at the neat stack you were tending to when he’d appeared, “I’m just about done, I’m sending back all this junk in these boxes.” You could’ve told him the sky was green and he wouldn’t have questioned you, let alone the shit to do with this building he prays burns down. You’re typing away at your phone again at a system he never bothered to learn after explaining all the changes he may actually retain simply because it was you who said it.

Gyuutaro rubs at the back of his neck while you finish your professional spiel, biting at the skin on the inside of his cheek, “sorry I didn’t get t’help ya any, shit timing I guess,” but you smile at him nonetheless, waving your hand and dismissing his apology.

“It’s not a big deal at all, promise. You looked like you were ready to jump over the counter and throttle someone anyway,” he likes the way you giggle at your own comment, how it lights up your whole face and makes him need to swallow a little more. Thinks it’s cute, thinks you’re cute and he’s actually pretty annoyed he didn’t get to speak to you more the one day you’re at his store longer than an hour. Scowl marring his perfectly imperfect features as he slouches and scoffs as he recalls the faceless nobodies that kept him away from you.

“Everyone’s pretty fuckin’ annoyin, like they don’t have a shred of sense. We were busier than normal today too, should’ve just traded you jobs for the day,” to which you only gave him a sympathetic pat to his forearm in response.

It makes him feel warm, a comfortable heat in his chest, with how you always laugh at whatever he says or are just so genuinely enthused to speak to him and that you feel inclined to be near him or touch him. He scratches at the slope of his throat in a subconscious bid to fight the unfamiliar feeling you evoke, flicking the scythe earring that dangles from the tunnel in his stretched lobes while he thinks of what else to say; never one to actually desire for conversation to carry on.

“Uh, so, you gotta order more overpriced shit or?” Was all he could come up with, his cheeks heating rapidly when you look up from the small handheld clutched in your hands and nod before returning to whatever it is you do. Thankful for the dark marks he’s had since birth that spreads from his right cheek to just below the center of his left eye for once in his life as it disguises the blush that probably tints his pale skin. Sighing as he gives up on finding something to say and leaning against the doorframe again while peeking over your shoulder as you add and subtract god knows what to the store owners bill. Jarring him from his stupor when you shift from one foot to the other on your feet before you exhale heavily.

“Alrighty, ’m all done here now, you got much longer today?“

He groans long and low before he nods, scowl deepening and scratching noisily along his sharp jawline, “yeah, Imma be here pretty late, gotta’ work a twelve today because my boss is a dick and the brat he made manager has an important college party she can’t miss. Ya can only tell me yer dyin to have a train ran on ya in so many ways.”

That makes you frown, genuinely disheartened for a reason Gyuutaro can’t really understand yet, eyebrows scrunching as you chew at your plush lower lip for a second. The next moment you’re whipping your phone out of your back pocket and clicking several different apps before you turn it towards him and he sees the add contact screen, “Put your number in, I get off after I head back to our office to clock out and wouldn’t mind coming by to help.”

“To bother me, you mean?” quipped in jest as he takes your device with a raised eyebrow and crooked smile that makes you squirm minutely under his gaze, tapping in his contact information and sending himself a text with a playful little middle finger and scythe emoji in it to save yours before handing it back to you. You laugh at the text, rolling your eyes with a nod while tucking your phone away and moving toward the door with Gyuutaro hot on your heels, “Bothering you is an obvious given, you should know that.”

Playfully shooing you out the door in mock annoyance in response, hanging in the doorway as he sees you out to your car and for once the blaring chime doesn’t annoy him as it screeches in his ears.

The days don’t drag on like they used to after that, probably due to the fact that he spends all day on his phone now texting you. He’s in a better mood too, smiling more (at his screen but smiling nonetheless) because the conversation doesn’t feel forced or stagnant and you’re always engaging in one way or another and if you can’t think of anything to say you you send a meme or a picture of another location that you’re at for the day.

‘You’d never do this’, your text bubble highlights, which makes him roll his eyes, tapping at his screen in between mindless tasks he can’t focus on.

‘Probably would if it made you have to be here awhile longer,’ Gyuutaro smirks while he types it, lopsided grin splitting his face as he wonders if you’ll fluster over it or at the very least read it in his tone. He’s gotten a little more bold with you in the weeks you’ve been texting; mostly not so subtle hints of his attraction, telling you you’re cute for simple things and complimenting you in ways that couldn’t be considered platonic. You’re animated in the ways you respond too, displaying how what he says makes you feel with caps lock and unintelligible key smashes and Gyuutaro takes it as a good sign. The awkwardness of flirting with you had long since gone away because of it and he's learned you’re the incredibly nurturing type.

Displaying it overtly and subtly all at once with questions like, ‘Did you sleep alright? Have you eaten today? I’ll be in the area today do you want me to pick up lunch? Have a good day!

The more receptive you are to him the more he does it, always toeing the line of borderline sexting without plunging into it just yet.

For now he’ll just enjoy the mutually casual flirting, he thinks it’s flirting anyway, that’s what his roommate's stray of a girlfriend (and his bonus sister, he guesses) says when she snatches his phone from his hands or reads the screen from over his shoulder. Taunting teasingly ‘serial killers got a girlfriend’ before they end up rough housing as he wrestles for his phone back until her man came to separate them and toss her over his shoulder.

Gyuutaro couldn’t say he was opposed to the notion, however, you’d creeped your way into his personal life instead of lingering at the doorway of his professional life only. You both text one another as often as you can, but he feels the times where he has to wait, keenly aware of every agonizing minute as he drums his fingers along the counter and clicks through apps on his phone; he even hears a phantom chirp of your text notification every so often and cringes at himself if he dwells on that feeling of desperation too long.

Lets his mind wander in fleeting distraction when there aren’t customers to busy himself with. Gyuutaro thinks of how his roommate has made fun of him for checking his phone so often just yesterday, recalling the scene vividly in his mind's eye.

Hakuji watching the lanky man waking his screen or unlocking and locking it back more times than he can count. His legs growing restless as he did so, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he lounges in the living room of their apartment.

Pots and pans clatter as the bulkier of the two searched for the correct cookware as he commented from the kitchen, “y’know Shabana, it's pretty refreshing seein you this hung up on someone that isn’t your sister.”

The heavily tattooed man doesn’t realize the connotations of his phrasing, or maybe he does, Gyuutaro could never tell when Hakuji tried his hand at banter. The response was the same regardless “fuck off, stripes.”

His roommate puts his hands up in front of his torso in mock surrender, “just saying, seems like yer really into her, princess said the girl sounds into you and could be a good thing going.”

Gyuutaro didn’t respond further, simply sneered before retreating to his sparsely decorated room with his brows furrowed in thought over how the both of you interact and if the chemistry was really that palpable that people on the outside looking in could notice it too.

Returning to that line of consideration now as he waits, ruminating on it and if there were different attempts Gyuutaro should make but it’s abandoned quickly when an eagerly anticipated response wakes his screen and your name graces the notification bar on display.

‘Miss me?’ He reads it in your voice, a sweet sound that rattles around in his head more than he’d willingly admit to anyone aloud. Lips curling up around jagged teeth as he goes to tap out a reply before the door swings open dramatically enough that it agitates Gyuutaro. Growl rumbling from his chest only to die in his throat when he sees you standing with a beaming smile before you hold up a plastic bag with two containers of takeout while you laugh at him.

“Gotcha!” Exclaimed between your erupting giggle fit as you place the food on the chipping countertop as you make your way around the counter to him, “you should’ve seen your face you were about to lose your shit.”

The snarl he wears is significantly less menacing and off putting than any other that he’s adorned but only because it’s directed at you, “didn’ tell me you were stopping by pretty thing, didn’t even get time to make myself look all nice.”

You scoff as you lift yourself onto the adjacent counter facing the window, your back to it after you’ve laid out your respective meals, “always look nice, now eat, I know you haven’t since I came by yesterday.”

Gyuutaro doesn’t miss how you quickly slip in the compliment but you give him no time to refute it, chuckling himself as he shakes his head while grabbing his plate of food and the utensils that came with it. An upwards quirk lingers on his lips even as he takes a bite and lets his lids slip shut to savor the moment rather than the food itself, a pleasant heat pulsing softly behind his sternum as he realizes you’ve been subtly learning about him too. That you’re at least well versed enough to know how quickly he’d refute your genuine response to his sarcastic jab at himself.

Instead he lets you have this win, enjoys the fact that you genuinely find him appealing instead of the nagging urge to mock you for it before you could mock him because there simply isn't a singular instance where that would transpire. You were too good for that, too good for him he knows but Gyuutaro is a selfish man that takes what he wants and unfortunately (but oh so fortunately despite how unaware of the fact he was) for you, you and your affection was what he had his sights on.

‘I’m on vacation starting tomorrow,’ you break the rare silence that had blanketed the space after swallowing your own bite of food. Gyuutaro pulled from his musings with a confused sound muffled by his mouthful as he urges you to continue, “I’m not doing anything special. Staying home all week.”

You want to squirm over his expression, still clueless with a thin brow quirked high on his forehead hidden behind long fringe that hangs in his face. Waiting a moment in case he just needed the time to process what you were saying but once he continues to miss the point you finally sigh and ask him outright, “Do you want to hang out with me sometime during the week?“

Only for an impish grin to spread on his devilishly handsome face that makes your throat, ears and cheeks burn with heat, “thought ya’d never ask. Just lemme know when ya want me.”

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You’re relatively busy the rest of the week after you inform him of your time off, tying up loose ends so you don’t run the risk of being contacted during your vacation and leaving notes for whoever will be filling in for you. Too dutiful in Gyuutaro’s opinion considering all the times you’ve ranted to him about your coworkers screwing you over as he thumbs away frustrated tears when you’ve reached your breaking point over the added workload. Always telling him that it’s easier for you in the long run if you just take care of things ahead of time but you ignore him when he reminds you of how you pick up everyone else’s slack but they don’t allow you the opportunity to do the same.

It doesn’t sit right on his tongue and weighs heavy in the pit of his stomach but he lets it go when you ask him to; offering him placating words as if he were the one that felt overwhelmed.

So he just opts to make you laugh because apparently Gyuutaro’s ‘so good at cheering me up’ and he ‘always knows just how to put a smile on my face’.

But your relief come the end of the week is palpable even without the several texts to him in all caps about how you’d completed all your tasks and written out all your emails for the ‘team’ so you’re ‘home free.’ You’re so ridiculously cute Gyuutaro can’t even stand it, embarrassed about how his heart skips a beat when you ask him his schedule and if he’ll want to come by this Sunday before he could even respond to your joy. He takes a moment to calm himself, exhaling slowly as you coordinate a short back and forth and commit to a plan.

Excitement making his stomach twist with a different sort of hunger than he’s ever suffered from before. Fuck, was he in love with you?

He wished he’d never asked himself that question, at least not before he was going to spend time with you outside of work. The first time he comes over is somewhat awkward, being alone with you in private, nevermind the fact that it’s in the sanctity of your home at that, surely would’ve been.

The space is tidy, he notes, like you like to keep things neat and orderly the same way you do at work and he honestly isn’t surprised; demonstrating his assumption by holding out your hand for his keys as you toss them into the little bowl on the entryway table that houses your own set. Busying yourself as you move around the space before disappearing into the kitchen that wafts the smell of dinner throughout your home and makes him salivate.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you call from the other room but Gyuutaro only coo’s a cool ‘kay’ as he seizes the opportunity to explore his surroundings as he meanders to your modest dining room table that doesn’t look like it can seat more than two people at any given moment.

There are only a few scattered pictures on the wall, family he presumes, mostly you and who he guesses is your mother as well as a few that are of people that bear no resemblance to you at all that Gyuutaro gathers must be your friends. Closest to the archway that leads into your kitchen is a singular ornately designed analog clock and some painted canvas’ on the opposite side that lead down the extended hallway that make him smirk to himself, a little pleased to learn on his own that you like to paint and you aren’t half bad at it either.

Your home is dimly lit as well, curtains drawn for privacy and it blocks out a significant amount of natural light but it's rectified with lamps that cast a softer yellowish glow to illuminate the area. Overall you decorate pretty simply, modestly, keeping mostly essentials with the occasional knick-knacks placed sporadically so the space doesn’t feel so empty or bland.

Pulled from his reverie when he catches sight of you preparing the plates for both of you, snarling his lip because like fucking hell you were going to do more than you needed to especially on your vacation, especially over something like this.

Broad palm and lithe digits with knobby knuckles take the ladle from your hands with ease, sucking his teeth at you when you go to protest with a cute whine but he stands firm. Taking your dish and holding it higher so you couldn’t try and snatch it from his hands as he spoons the steaming food onto the ceramic. You relent easily enough though, but not without any complaint as your shoulders slumping animatedly in exaggeration as you let him finish up making both plates instead, “I could’ve done it ‘taro.”

“Ya cooked,” short and to the point as he hands you your food, jerking his head backwards because if he acknowledges the cute nickname for him he doubts he could contain he already barely concealed desire for you, “I’ll serve it. How it works.”

Nevermind he’s never served another soul in his life that wasn’t blood related to him. What had you done to him? Will you keep doing it?

He hopes so as you retreat from him, exhaling slowly to calm himself before he follows you into the next room to find you already comfortably sat at your table; waiting for him to join you before you start eating. Something Gyuutaro never let Ume do while they were growing up, always wanting to make sure she’d had her fill before he’d even consider eating.

But food was plenty when it came to you, he knows how to pick his battles as well, Gyuutaro didn’t think he could get away with strong arming you with something simple like this again. Sliding into the cushioned seat next to you as he digs his spoon into the hearty stew after only a moment's pause. Puffing out a disbelieved chuckle when you make no move to start eating yourself as you stare expectantly at him.

He rolls his eyes but take a decent spoonful and shovels the meat and potatoes into his mouth without even blowing on it to cool it off with little reaction besides a hum of satisfaction. Pointing the dirtied utensil at you when he swallows and lets the taste warm his belly, “s’great, now eat lil brat.”

The deliverance was a little curt but not insultingly so as you beam at him, rolling your lower lip between your teeth as you nod before finally tucking into your own plate with a playfully flippant, “was gonna, just needed to let it cool down.”

You do love your technicalities, Gyuutaro’s learned, “lucky yer cute, liars never are.”

Nudging at you with his elbow before the meal continues in amicable silence, interrupted with light conversation and Gyuutaro getting up to make himself a second bowl halfway through while you sit with him as he polished that one off as well.

This was probably the longest either of you had taken to eat any meal before, Gyuutaro never one to eat very often which was apparently in the way his skin clung to the bonier areas of his body; you because you bite off more than you could chew in other areas of your life and used the excuse of ‘never having the time to stop and eat.’

But this meal was enjoyable, one you both wanted to savor that didn't pertain to the food at all. Lingering at the table as you both idly chat a little bit more than you would when you see him at work or over text. You’d known about his sister of course but it’s more enjoyable getting to watch him talk at length about her more, have him detail to you about her personality quirks and cherished memories from their childhood that you’re sure she would be utterly mortified to know that he’d regaled them someone she hadn’t even met yet.

He was more like a proud dad than a loving older brother but you admire that about him, adored it rather. There weren’t many men like Gyuutaro that would accept that sort of responsibility over their sibling at such a young age, it shows you how good of a father he’d be one day before you nip that train of thought in the bud.

You hadn’t even met the most important person in his life yet, nevermind that you weren’t even dating or discussing the prospect of it, what did you think you were doing with mental images of him cradling a precious little swaddle of a newborn that looks like a healthy mix of you and–

“Ya feelin alright?” his voice has you careening back to the present from a future you imagine a little more than you should, looking somewhat stupified then shocking at the cool feel of the back of his palm on your heated cheek, “feel warm.”

Your fingers wrap around his wrist thoughtfully before pulling it away gently, patting it assuringly only to chirp out tightly, ““m great! Soups n’stews just warm me up a little too much.”

You’re aware that that sounds less than convincing but you breathe a sigh of relief when he shrugs his shoulders with a smirk before figuring now was as good a time as any to start clearing the table. It makes you frown though, reaching for him quickly and grasping onto his baggy shirt, “you don’t have to do that, I’ll get it.”

Gyuutaro casts a glance over his shoulder to scold you lightly over this as well but his words die in his throat when he sees your crestfallen expression. His cleaning up feels like their time together was already coming to an end and you’d be lying if you said that wasn't more than disappointing.

So he stops, stands less slouched than normal as he turns to you and lets his index finger hook beneath your chin to earn your gaze, “we’re gonna watch a movie yeah? What kinda asshole would I be if I dined n’ditched?”

His tone is so low and gentle paired with his touch as well as that soft expression on his face that he pulls off flustering and pacifying you in one fell swoop but you do the same to him in turn. Facilitating that pleasantly uncomfortable heat in his chest like a flickering flame that has smothering ash kicked from it’s core the moment your crestfallen expression melts from the warmth of your relieved smile.

This much of a change in mood so quickly, all because he said he’d be staying with you for a little while longer? If you’d told him weeks ago Gyuutaro alone was capable of that he’d have cackled maniacally in your face.

Well, maybe not your face specifically, but still the sentiment stands, the notion would’ve been unfathomable to him. Gyuutaro favored souring people's moods and leaving a bitter taste in their mouths but the thought of doing that to you in any capacity makes his stomach twist in familiar discomfort.

He doesn’t realize you’re still within his grasp until you reluctantly pull yourself from him, reaching for the stacked dishes in his other hand only for him to shift it further out of your reach, “What did I say earlier?”

Your arm flails slightly, trying in vain to take the bowls from him before you huff in momentary defeat and fix him with a defiant pout, “that I cooked so you made the plates, not a thing was said about cleanin up.”

“It was implied.”

“Implied where, in your imagination?” Wrestling with him playfully as he gives you his back before your arms slip between his own but still only come up short thanks to his lanky limbs, “I can clean up two plates, seriously.”

“Didn’t ask,” purred with his back to you as long legs carry him into your kitchen with three easy strides, maneuvering about the area like he belonged there as he crouched to the cabinet below to grab a new sponge on assumption alone. You protest a bit more, knocking your hip into his in a weak attempt to bump him out of the way only to be quietly humbled over how he doesn’t even budge. Averting your gaze and pouting with warm cheeks when he glances at you with that shit-eating grin of his before leaning against your counter with your arms crossed in an exaggerated huff.

Tapping your foot quietly against the hardwood floor as the sound of running water and the gentle clink of ceramics and metal fills the tranquil moment; simply watching Gyuutaro work comfortably in your kitchen and enjoying the delusion of domesticity until your heart races. Inhaling audibly and collating his curiosity as you scoot slightly away from him, patting your thighs because you’ve been too idle for too long.

“Actually.. Since you insist on not letting me clean in my own house, do you mind if I grab a shower? I don’t like taking one super late,” a habit even when you’re on vacation, trying to give yourself as much relaxation time before you finally decide to wind down for bed far too late in the night for how early you always seem to wake up.

Gyuutaro gives a simple nod, resuming his self-assigned task but not without an internal scoff to himself and a smirk that fights it’s way onto his lips with the passing thought of his roommate being wholly aghast at Gyuutaro in this moment considering he never even so much as looked at the sinkful of dirty dishes back home.

Glancing over his shoulder again when he catches the motion of you awkwardly shifting your weight on the balls of your feet as he quirks his brow. Tilting his head for the dip dyed ends of his mop of wavy locks to shift out of his eyes, “Need somethin else? Or was that an invitation?”

You stiffen and he almost thinks he’s overstepped and completely misread everything between the two of you up to this point before he watches you press your palms to your cheeks the same way his sister does when she’s trying to calm herself down. Attempting to stammer out a response but you can’t even meet his gaze and as relief washes over him he taps his foot near yours and shoots you a damning wink, “m kiddin, take yer shower or I’ll start the movie without ya.”

“Don’t you dare,” scowling exuberantly, recovering from your momentary malfunction in a way that has Gyuutaro grinning, “make yourself comfortable when you’re done, swear I won’t take long.”

He only responds with another nod, giving you an easy smile as he returns to the task at hand, grabbing a few of the stray tableware and cups while he was at it. He can feel you lingering though, feels your gaze on his back and it fleetingly makes the nape of his neck burn but he doesn’t resent the feeling. Another sensation only you stoke in him, one he doesn’t question because subconsciously he knows the cause even if he teeters between delusion and denial.

You almost look in a daze from what he can glean from his peripheral everytime he sets a dish into your drying rack, snapping you from it as he flicks soaked digits in your direction, “doubt this is an efficient way to shower pretty thing.”

The way you squeal and giggle louder as he flicks more water at you before you race off down the hall to your bathroom makes his (now full) shrunken stomach do a flip, fluttering in another of many foreign yet familiar sensations he continues to amass from your presence. Drying his hands as he smirks over the dull thuds of your feet and the door at the end of the hall shutting hastily as Gyuutaro calls out, “can’t blame me for using all the hot water either yaknow.”

Surprisingly satisfied with what he accomplished he moves to linger in your living room idly with nothing to do, glancing about and opting to occupy his time by familiarizing himself with the dwelling after shedding his hoodie when he rounds the couch. Picking up your scattered candles and appreciating the sweet smells that recognized the times they clung to your skin or clothes before wandering further into your home. Hoping to gain more than a shallow glimpse into your life and how you live it outside of the small window he knows you from on a week to week basis or walls of text messages exchanged for hours on end could ever offer him.

Returning to the kitchen first, concocting a flippant excuse of having a sudden sweet tooth should you emerge from the corner without him noticing, not that he’d really need one for some innocent perusing.

Starting off simple as he rummages through the fridge to see what you like only to find a random assortment of ingredients and a case of water. Frown marring his features with a slight growl, sucking his teeth because why the hell were you worrying about his eating habits when your fridge looked this barren? He’s a hypocrite for certain as he tells himself to get on your case about it later while straightening his spine and shutting the heavy door with an indignant scoff. Unsatisfied with his snooping yet as he opens and closes every cabinet in the room and stares into the pantry, growing bored before long and settling to just lounge in the living room.

Resolving to actually behave and respect your privacy.. That is, until he hones in on the sound of the running water of your shower trying and failing to muffle the sound of a melody sung in an impossibly sweeter tone than he already thought you’d had. Stalling mid stride, staring blankly down the hallway and at the simple door your voice emanates from.

A siren song for certain the way it draws him to you, craving to hear it more clearly as he closes the gap; allowing only the inch thick distance of the particle board and the few feet between it and your shower to separate you both. Leaning against the structure carefully with his ear pressed to the surface, almost holding his breath as he enjoys the sound of you. Arms folded over his chest with a ghost of a smile on his lips as his lids slip shut as if you were serenading him explicitly. Jarring when you a loud clattering of several things follows your cute little yelp, and he pauses to see if you’ll whine in pain, untensing when the sound never comes nor does the captivating cantical.

But that’s fine for now, something else has stolen his attention anyway as he carefully pushes away from the bathroom door to push open another. Knobby knuckle nudging open the already already ajar entryway to the room across the hall.

Your room.

And he shouldn’t slink in, knows he shouldn’t slither through the marginally larger gap he created but, the lamp on your bedside table casts such a warm and, like everything else about you, inviting glow. Call Gyuutaro a moth to a flame if you wanted, vying for just a little bit more of you in any way he could get his greedy little hands on.

Even for something so insignificant and inconsequential as the areas you dwell in, but there was an aspect of intimacy associated within the sanctity of where you seek solace and Gyuutaro has always been a man starved of many things. and since he’s met you you’ve only ever fed him more and more. He’s thankful you’d never taken the lesson to never feed a stray to heart.

Because he wants to invade every fiber of your very being, infect your life slowly like the plague he saw himself as. Praying to any god that only ignored his pleas until Gyuutaro finally stopped asking and dolled out misery that he’d be terminal for you but in a softer, more affectionate way.

The feeling festering in the space between his ribs as he stands in your sanctuary. Your room is as simply decorated as the rest of the house aside from a marked amount more pictures and tchotchkes that tell him more than idle chit chat ever could.

Even silence is a conversation, easy to glean desired information so long as you were willing to look for it.

Like that you loved deeply and cherish the moments you get to spend with those so fortunate enough you afford the affection if the candid moments immortalized in photos and preserved in protective frames are any indication. Friends mostly, some from your childhood, most from recent years alongside a lone photo of you with a woman you bare a vague resemblance to. Parental problems maybe? May you and Gyuutaro be kindred spirits.

Perhaps that alone validates his next assessment. Where he grew callous and cold you chose to be kind and warm, obvious enough, to him, that you crave comfort as his eyes rove over the abundance of plush creatures of all varieties, stuffed foxes, cats, a pink fawn as well as a rotund bat plush that looked specifically tailored to cuddle artfully arranged around strawberry shaped pillows.

Your bed itself reminds him more of a little nest with how it’s tucked into the corner of your room to accommodate the comforts artfully arranged around strawberry and heart shaped pillows along with the fluffiest comforter Gyuutaro has ever seen with another blanket folded at the foot of the bed. He wants to lie in it on the worst of days with you in his arms, curling around you protectively. Burns to bury his nose into your hair after kissing your crown as the smell of your shampoo, the sound of your breathing and the feel of your skin against his lulls him into the most restful sleep he’s ever gotten in his rotten life.

Gyuutaro has to take a few steps back, berating himself over the faithless fantasies from his wicked and treacherous heart while staring at your empty bed. The longer he lingered the more likely he felt he’d be inclined to stay and for once he didn’t want to intrude or invade, not without your explicit invitation.

Though he bumps into another piece of furniture on his exit, the rounded edge of the sturdy wood stabbing just below his shoulder blade causes him to hiss in pain. Pivoting on his heel with a snarl that quickly fades into benign curiosity as his hand strokes along the lip of your dresser.

Drumming his fingers against the material as he purses his lips and quirks a thin brow. Weird place to put something like this, in his opinion, rocking on his heel and as he does he can catch a glimpse of the bathroom just outside of your own room. Easy access, it must be here for when you forget your clothes to spare yourself the shameful shuffle in the starke nude despite living alone.

The thought makes him laugh, the scene a domestic one he’d never imagined of anyone as his hand rests over the top. Drumming his fingers against the hardwood as serenity turns salacious in his ever working mind.

It’s shameful, he knows this already, but what wasn’t when it came to Gyuutaro? If he were a kinder, more compassionate man, the kind of man you deserved, the wherewithal to not violate your privacy like this would be a nonissue.

But he wasn’t, never even considered to be and doubts heavily he ever would; in this life or the next.

So the drawers are already quietly opened with a practiced ease.

And of course they’re all organized. Jeans, skirts, shorts, leggings and sleepwear in the bottom two drawers. The one above those holds all your shirts, long and short sleeves alike with some camis and tank tops and he chortles over the realization that you’ve sorted the storage's contents by the placement on your own body for the most part.

Gyuutaro opens the top drawer last, he can hear how heavily he swallows as it creaks open, pausing with a scowl at the shrill sound. Is there any real reason for him to open the final drawer? No, not really, but there wasn’t any valid justification for coming to your room in general either; so, why should he stop now? Guilty is guilty, is it not, he’s always been punished severely regardless of his transgression anyway. It’s why he selfishly prioritized his own pleasure where he could and you being his currently coveted prize was enough justification to slide the drawer open further.

Just enough to revel at the assortment of bundled silky and lacy underwear alternatively. He should be ashamed of himself, feel disgusting for how he cards through the variety of styles with a lidded gaze and lazy smile, but he doesn’t.

Doesn’t still as he conjures images of you clad only in the pretty black, lacy pair with a precious little pink bow on the front while you stand between his spread legs with your hands on his shoulders before you climb to straddle him. Lashes fluttering over the daydream as he fists the fabric with a white knuckled grip before he forces himself from his reverie.

Heaving a bereft sigh as his cock twitched and threatens to throb if he doesn’t leave now, quickly but carefully closing the drawer after he’s pocketed the lingerie before finally fucking leaving your room and just in time for him to hear the steady stream of water to stop.

He’s in the living room again when the bathroom door opens and the humidity accumulated billows out. You're toweling your hair dry as you pad towards him, wearing a satin red camisole and dark dolphin shorts but you might as well be dressed to kill.

“Sorry I took a little bit, I just know after the movie I’ll want to go to sleep as soon as it's over,” there’s a ringing in his ears that almost drowns out everything you’d said to him. The sound blaring as crystalline hues quickly give you a once over as you cross in front of him

Gyuutaro croaks out a tight ‘s fine’ as he sits sprawled on your sofa, one arm draped over the back of the couch as he slouches lower. Cursing inwardly as he folds his leg in a way that keeps his swelling cock from tenting the material of his jeans. Gritting his teeth and subtly tensing every muscle in his body to will blood flow anywhere else but you (always unintentionally and jn the best of ways) make his life harder. Plopping down into the plush cushions with a saccharine suspire that will fuel his fantasies later before leaning your head on his shoulder while clicking through several apps before settling on Hulu.

So sweetly handing him the remote with a chirped ‘you pick’ like he wasn’t fighting for his life right now. He couldn’t be fucked to actually choose a movie so he chose some suggested horror flick and hoped for the best.

It takes about fifteen minutes into the movie before he’s finally calmed enough to let his arm fall from its perch and drape around your shoulder and tuck you into his side properly. It’s criminal how easily you adjust into him too, shifting your weight more into your hip as your head tucks into the crook of his throat and your hand splays just over his diaphragm after you’ve pulled the throw blanket over you both.

He doesn’t absorb anything from the movie, not that he’d really been attempting to anyway. Mentally occupied by how well you fit against him, how warm you are as well as committing the fragrant notes of your shampoo and body wash to memory. Mind wandering to anything else, though any and all thoughts still pertained to you, to stave off the dread of the movie ending because the last thing he wanted to do was to go home alone tonight.

Until he notices how you grip onto him for dear life, whole body tensing before you flinch and fist the material of his hoodie tighter; all normal reactions to a horror film. Gyuutaro almost wants to chuckle over your reactions until you whimper and hide your face, trembling over the gory and frightening scene that has him hastily fumbling for the remote to pause it.

You opt to hide in his throat when he does until his broad palm cups your cheek after a long moment and coaxes you to look at him, nose nudging against your own when he rests his forehead on yours. Cooing at you in the softest tone he could manage when you apologize for no reason while trembling in his hold, thumb swiping over the apple of your cheek as his fingers caress the hinge of your jaw.

Your eyes are pretty when they’re glassy with tears but he doesn’t think he wants to see them this way ever again, not from this circumstance anyway. There were probably less selfish ways to comfort you but he tells himself he isn’t a selfless man as Gyuutaro closes minimal gap between you, sealing his lips over yours. Chaste and tentative at first, testing until you whine approvingly and press closer.

It’s all the permission he needs to do what he does best; take.

His hand slides to the curve of your skull to press you closer to him, leaning into the contact as he tilts his head with a hum. Your lips are as soft as he thought they’d be, softer maybe but he won’t get too lost in those details. Not when you return his fervor by weaving your fingers into his loose locks, blunt nails scraping deliciously at his scalp and how you barely break the contact to take a breath.

It’s more than encouraging to him, slightly emboldening Gyuutaro as his tongue swipes along your plush bottom lip before you grant him entry. Your muted moan swallowed by him as he shifts you into his lap for you both to be more comfortable.

He figures it to be a safer bet than pressing you into the cushions and climbing on top of you. ‘Easier to hold back this way,’ Gyuutaro inwardly assures himself while staring directly at pure temptation with a lustful gaze. Chest heaving as you lean back just enough to adjust and sit comfortably in his lap before chasing his lips once more.

Broad palms finding your natural waist as your thick thighs frame his narrow hips and you cradle his jaw as if he was your personal treasure. Nipping at and gently pulling his own kiss swollen lower lip before you tug the hair at the base of his skull for him to tilt his head.

Eyes glinting with mirth paired with a mischievous little smile that he mirrors as he palms the nape of your neck, “feelin better?”

“Maybe,” giggling as your thumb swipes at the corner of his lips, “not sure yet.”

Dipping for another kiss as a chuckle vibrates his chest, reverberating against your own as your tongue swirls around his. Gasping in pleasant surprise when your clothed slit brushes over his throbbing cock, chasing the sensation by grinding down after he slouches lower in his seat.

It feels good, you feel good, even through the layers of clothes like this; it still makes Gyuutaro groan. His hands slipping lower and palm the fat of your ass to pull you closer as he presses further into the plush couch. Whimpering in turn when you repeat the motion with more confidence, rolling your pelvis into his only for him to rut upwards somewhat awkwardly until he falls into a comfortable unspoken rhythm.

Gyuutaro’s in trouble, mind racing with the desire to pull the thin, flimsy material of your shorts and panties to the side to glide his cockhead through your sticky folds. Gripping your hips with a bruising force that you seem to more than enjoy if how they jerk in his hold was any indication before tap your fingers on his wrist. It gives him pause, swallowing thickly thinking he’d done something wrong when you lift your ass and reach between your bodies to fumble with his button and zipper before he grabs both of your hands in one.

‘Wait, fuck, don’t wanna—“ he can already see you start to deflate at perceived rejection whenever he grabs your chin gently. Carefully cradling your jaw when you try and shy away from him to force eye contact, “nah don’t do that, believe me pretty girl, I fuckin wanna, but not on the first date. You’ll think I’m easy.”

He winks with a Cheshire grin that makes you giggle, relaxing against him as your thumb swipes affectionately over the marks he thinks are ghastly.

“Movie was shit anyway,” shifting you to sit in his lap with your back against the arm of the couch and your head tucked into his throat, “I’ll head home a little later. Put something on ya like.”

You nod but don’t detangle from him, only adjust enough to where your legs are kicked over one side to sit comfortably in his lap. Spending the next hour letting YouTube autoplay comfort videos with one another’s hands laced together in your lap and even still, when it’s time for him to head home, it feels too soon. Lingering in your doorway after he grasps at his discarded hoodie and helps you into it to see him off after demanding he text you he’s made it home safely with a petulant pout he wouldn’t dream of denying.

And true to his word he sends a concise ‘home’ after you’ve tucked yourself away in a bed that now feels too big with just you in it’s confines. Breathing a sigh of relief as you reply with a heart and telling him goodnight before you shimmy lower into your thick comforter.

On the cusp of slipping into a dreamless sleep when your screen wakes that does the same for you in turn when you groan to see what disturbed you.

A text from Gyuutaro that read “how bad I wanted to, btw” after resorting to fucking his fist with your pilfered panties pressed to his nose. A picture attached of him that’s cut just above his toothy, satisfied grin to just below his toned abdomen where you can see sticky white stain pale skin.

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It’s safe to say the proverbial ice had finally been broken, the shift in your relationship with one another unspoken and the nature of it is still undefined but you’re both certain (at the very least) that you're on the same page.

From the time he wakes up to the time you fall asleep you’re in constant contact with one another, texting between chores around your households or having extended phone calls during his shifts at work. Conversation feels impossibly easier than before, lighter, uninhibited and lacking any gnawing desire to fill any silences that fall between you often.

The week carries on doing simple activities, seizing any opportunity to see each other again any chance either of you get. Gyuutaro doesn’t collect nearly half as many of his usual hours because of it and he already knows his paycheck will suffer dearly for it but he can’t say it was any real loss. The lack of monetary gain is more than accommodated for with your loving laughter and welcoming warmth; tipped a gratuitous amount of unmitigated tenderness and unconditional care.

Paid in your panoply of both subtle and unsubtle displays of affection like sending him to work with a home cooked meal every day, for instance. Packed up nice and neatly in glass containers tucked away into a branded lunch box he’s never once seen you carry around. Always placed into his hands when he reluctantly kisses you goodbye for the night though it does hold an endearingly innocent ulterior motive on your part, hinted at with your ‘firm’ demand for the containers return the next day. Creating an excuse (besides the desire to keep his belly full consistently for the first time in his life) he doesn’t realize is just so he’ll have a built in reason to come over again, not that he ever needed one but it felt easier than outright asking him to come see you every day of the week.

Until the weekend before the end of your holiday arrives and Gyuutaro can see the telltale signs of trepidation that threatens to ruin one of the best weeks you’ve had in a long while.

The shift in you has Gyuutaro the slightest bit clingier, more doting in his own unique ways and subconsciously caring for you in the way you like to be loved despite having never been told how. He asks if you need groceries just to volunteer to drive you there, adding to it by insisting, “n’ if yer a good passenger princess I’ll take ya on that bike ride you’ve been beggin me for, maybe we’ll get that too sweet coffee ya like too.”

Treating the chore like an exciting excursion, playing dirty by sweetening the deal plus that damning lopsided grin of his is infectious and it only splits wider when you pout bleeds into a tentative smirk. Agreeing to his terms but with an added stipulation, “passenger princess needs her gas pumped and control of the radio.”

He slouches with a quirked brow and faux scowl before hooking his index finger beneath your chin, tipping it upwards to seal his lips over yours in a fleeting press. Muttering a graveled ‘deal,’ acquiescing to ‘staunch’ demands as if the exchange didn’t go exactly in his desired direction, heart warming as you giggle gleefully in victory before gathering your things to leave.

You hated shopping alone but with Gyuutaro it wasn’t nearly as nerve wracking and hard to focus. Wandering down the emptier aisles at a leisurely pace with him at your side and comfortingly placing his hand at the small of your back to guide you through the more crowded ones. Your basket gets filled with far more items and ingredients than it ever has for either of you separately, discussing dinner options and planning meals for certain days so he’ll have leftovers for lunch. Neither of you comment over how domestic the entire process is for the nature of your still undefined relationship, just enjoy the feeling and ease of it all.

Though if you asked Gyuutaro, regardless of if you were around or not, he’d proudly and possessively proclaim that you were his and he was yours.

He knows you better than most anyone else at this point too, bagging the groceries how you liked to have them sorted without even needing to be told. Gently kneeing your thigh when you try and carry a single bag out to your car and again when you try to do the same whenever you get back home.

“Don’t piss me off brat,” sniped with a notable lack of malice as he shifted his loaded down arms out of your reach, giving you his back as he crossed the threshold of the front door.

“Or what?” You taunt daringly only to give him little trouble, though not for a lack of serious trying. Looping your arms around his tapered waist and dragging your feet to slow him down to no avail before resorting to swiping uselessly at the bags before they’re all placed onto your countertop.

He only sucks his teeth at you in response for now, rolling his eyes when you snatch at a bag he reaches for to unpack and stick your tongue out at him for good measure. Repeating that process for each bag as it devolves into a harmless game, tricking one another with twitching hands and sudden jerks when reaching for what’s laid out on the countertop until there’s nothing left. The whole process of the menial task breezed through with your antics, simpering as you bump your refrigerator door closed with your hip. Turning to gather the discarded bags while Gyuutaro faces your pantry, humming as you flatten and fold the plastics before a startled yelp rips from your throat.

Broad palms placed onto the countertop cage you in as Gyuutaro’s chest presses against your back, the surprise makes you shrink lower but he grabs at you when you squirm, “where’re ya goin?”

His voice still playful but a silky pitch lower than what you’ve heard before, almost purring in your ear as Gyuutaro cups at your jaw, pads of his index finger and thumb pressing into hollows of your cheeks when you whine. He chuckles at you, the sound vibrating against his ribcage as he nips at your ear to elicit more of the enticing sounds from you; breathing you in as he lets his hands rove over your body.

Periodically pawing at the parts of you he knows are sensitive just to watch you try and drop to your knees to writhe from his hold fruitlessly until you giggle and gasp, “alright alright, let go of me taro.”

Just the response he was hoping for as he handles you with absolute ease, brushing his lips over the slope of your throat as his arms tighten around your natural waist. Hoisting you up just enough so your toes just barely graze the flooring as you flail in the short distance he walks from your kitchen to your living room. Stopping at the furniture placed in the center of the room before he corals you once again, growing bolder by pinning your hips to the frame on the back of your sofa. Lips to the shell of your ear as he shudders out a breathy exhale when you arch your back and the swell of your ass brushes against his crotch, “or what?”

He takes a sick delight in how your eyes widen but leaves no time to dwell on the notion before deft digits make quick work of your button and zipper. He works both of his hands into your pants, massaging at your hips and palming the sides of your thighs as he shimmies the dark denim lower until it pools at your knees. Taking the time to knead appreciatively at the exposed flesh as they crawl higher, cupping your mound and pressing the pads of his middle and ring fingers over your clit as Gyuutaro slouches around you.

Your breath hitches at the contact but the lack of tension in your body tells him enough that it isn’t unwanted. Encouraging Gyuutaro further by turning your toes inward as he pulls the lacy material to the side to feel you uninhibited, eyes rolling when you twitch in anticipation but he won’t leave you wanting. Parting your folds to play in the quickly gathering slick and he can’t help but think about how much warmer you are than he thought you’d be; warmer than what he’s fantasized about since the end of the week previous.

He moves almost reflexively, swirling his fingers around your pert bud in firm circles, growing in confidence when your head lolls forward and you brace your forearms on the back of the couch. Ass brushing against his crotch as you go slack in his hold, dipping lower as you spread your legs just a bit more for him, rewarding Gyuutaro with a throaty sigh as he tests out what makes you feel good. A learning experience for the both of you as the sound of slick clicking and shushed suspires mingle in the space between you.

Working you up after a few testing pressures and motions, guiding you to your climax while his breath dampens the skin of your throat and the sound of him warms the blood in your veins. The coil in your lower belly tightening with intensity as your thoughts race, all of them about him and how he makes you feel, how you think he feels about you. Focusing on how he praises you, encourages you, the feel of his cock prodding at the curve of your ass and the more he coos at you the warmer you feel.

Clutching at the cushions of the couch for dear life and finally, finally tipping over the edge when he nips at the lobe of your ear and husks, “cum for me baby, show me how good I make ya feel.”

Shuddering in his hold and your voice breaks on the syllables of his name as you reach rapture, arching your back and he supports you with his free hand as he overstimulates you with the other. Cupping your throat while you moan his name so sinfully while his fingers swirl in lazy circles over your puffy clit, hips twitching and bucking uncontrollably into his hand until you have to grip desperately at his wrist for some reprieve. Heaving a heavy sigh of relief when he relents and occupies himself with littering the slope of your shoulder up to the hinge of your jaw in gentle nips and caste kisses.

Slowing his affectionate assault, Gyuutaro takes a moment to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, marveling slightly over the pleasure he provided for you. Drinks in how you slack in his hold, leaning into him because the tremble in your legs betray you. He didn’t think it possible for you to look any more beautiful but your blissed out, satisfied expression and the softness to your features that follows proves him wrong.

Letting the moment linger until you regain your bearing before he helps you straighten up by fixing your hair and step completely from your pants after voicing you’d wanted to change. Lovingly kissing your temple with a soft apology for getting carried away but not without a swift smack to your ass and a wink, repeating coyly, “told ya not to piss me off pretty girl.”

He starts dinner while you get comfortable before coming to help cook and you equally split cleanup duty afterwards. Gyuutaro all but corrals you into the living room as soon as he’s done with the dishes, drying his hands on the decorative towels before quickly grabbing at your waist before you had time to notice.

Eager to get situated on the plush furniture and fluff one of your many throw blankets over you both. Cuddling on the couch soon after, again, with you in his lap and his chin resting on your crown as time ticks by watching all the updates to the shows you’ve taken to enjoying with one another until he checks the time and sucks his teeth.

“Gettin late,” he grumbles as he all but tosses his phone onto the couch cushion beside you, “should probably head home so I can drag my ass outta bed for work tomorrow.”

You almost visibly deflate, relaxed features devolving with dejection as you reluctantly move from his lap for him to stand. You watch as he rises to full height and takes the time to stretch but you grab at his wrist reflexively before he can move to put on his shoes, releasing him when he turns to you with a quizzical look. Turning fully and squatting down to your eye level when you pull your feet up onto the couch and bring your knees to your chest while you fidget with your fingers the way you always do when you’re working up the nerve for something.

Glancing away quickly when he brings his palm to cup the side of your head, stroking along it soothingly before you groan dramatically. You surprise him with the sound, making his brow quirk and he leans back slightly when you drag your hands down your face before resting your forehead on your knees with another groan. Mumbling something that’s too quiet to be understood but too loud for you to be talking to yourself so he leans closer to you, comically cupping his ear with one eye open wider than the other.

“Hah?” Scoffed slightly and though he can’t see it you roll your eyes, “that a mouse I hear squeakin at me?”

“I said,” you shoot up with a scowl on pretty features, “why don’t you just stay the night instead.” Rushed out in one breath, like you’d lose the nerve if you’d attempted to deliver the sentence in any other way.

Your shoulders slack again, tilting your head to lean your cheek on your knee as you fix him with this unintentionally hopeful look, “If you wanted to anyway, you don’t gotta of course. It’s just that it is kinda’ late and I can just bring you to work tomorrow but, you absolutely don’t have to. It's just that you live across town—“ you stumble through your sentence for him to, thankfully, cut off your rambling.

“Ya had me at ‘I said’ pretty thing, why the hell wouldn’t I wanna stay?” Gyuutaro teases as he leans forward on his haunches, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he flops back onto your sofa, pressing his back into the arm of it. He reaches for you, hand encircling your wrist with ease as he pulls you between his legs and into his arms, “plus ‘m not gonna say no to a night away from my roommate and his girl bein’ loud as shit.”

“You could’ve just said yes,” you scoff as you reach for his phone and the remote previously tossed to the wayside, handing both to him after you’ve woken the screen to check the time, “one more episode? Then we should head to bed.”

You’re telling rather than asking him, batting long lashes up at him as your chin rests on his sternum as if Gyuutaro could ever really deny you anything you desired but that doesn’t mean he won’t put on his own theatrics. Pulling a giddy little giggle from you when his head lolls back and he heaves an exaggerated sigh but powers on the tv anyway.

But ‘one more episode’ turns to two then four because ‘they can’t just leave it on a cliffhanger like that!’ Until Gyuutaro inevitably has to be firm when he tells you at nearly midnight that, “ much as I’d love to pull an all-nighter with ya, I do have the early mornin shift baby.”

Halfheartedly you pour at him, certain he won’t relent this time but you’re beginning to grow accustomed to asking just the slightest but more of him. He’d say he’s rubbing off on you, secretly he’s happy to notice it even as his thumb and index grab at your plush lower lip as he tuts. The sound of your petulant whine is music to his ears as he cackles before tapping suspiciously closely to your ass.

“Fine, fine, I guess you win this time,” you groan playfully as you detangle yourself from. Standing and stretching as you hold out your hand to guide him to the bathroom as if he hadn’t spent every day of the week in your home.

Gyuutaro’s brow quirks high and a ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips when you push into your bathroom with him in tow. Blood ready to thrum in his veins simultaneously with elated and nervous energy as you yank open the shower curtains.

Though he deflates quickly with a burning heat stinging the nape of his neck that forces him to grip it to abate the burn when he realizes you’re just preparing the shower for him. He clears his throat as you slip past him in the small space with a cute, “oh one sec,” as you all but scurry into your room.

The lanky man tails you like the stray he calls Hakuji’s girlfriend and the one he always has been. Standing and yawning as he slouches in your doorway, debating minutely if he should just crawl beneath your cozy looking comforter and force you into his arms with the excuse that he could just shower in the morning. Swaying forward with intent when he’s pulled from his reverie by the sound of your searching. He leans like he’s going to help you in rifling through your drawers before gasping in satisfaction.

You produce clothes from your dresser that he doesn't remember seeing whenever he snooped through their contents last week, heart skipping a beat and his fists clenching, hidden away by his pockets before you explain without prompt.

“They’re my brothers,” you add quickly, like you couldn’t bear the misunderstanding, “he’s nowhere near as tall as you, though. They’ll probably look like capris but I doubt you’ll want to sleep in jeans. Turning the nozzle up on the shower makes it hotter, down is colder and in is off kay?”

He showers quickly, he has to, as much as he’d like to stand under the spray and let the warm water soothe tight muscles he’s ready to lay down with you in bed. The thought is lame to him, but it’s been on his mind since he’d come over the first night; since he stood in your room and familiarized himself with it just in case he didn’t get the chance to. Groaning to himself as he slouches forward and the water streams from his wet mop of unruly locks and into his face, off his nose and blurring his eyes before he snarls.

It was too good of a day to let his self-deprecating tendencies ruin it, finishing up what should’ve been a relaxing experience by using a modest amount of your body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Thinking idly as he steps into just the pair of joggers alone that you liked the same sort of scents his sister liked to use, maybe just a bit sweeter where her preferences are more floral.

He’ll have to introduce you soon, if you were up for that anyway. It was a miracle he hadn’t mentioned you to her yet with how much time he was spending with you; cautious in case this (like everything else in his life) blew up in his face when whatever deity harbored a grudge against him in particular decided they needed some entertainment.

Gyuutaro finally emerges from the bathroom as he tugs the spacious hoodie on over his head and discards his worn clothes into the hamper with your own. Brow quirking in confusion when he sees the bed still made, no you sized lump beneath the thick comforter.

“Babe?” Called as he spins on his heel but you scurry hastily from the hall. Tucking your hair behind your ear as you step into the room and close the door behind you.

“Sorry, sorry,” huffed as you cross the room hurriedly as tug your covers back, “thought I heard something. Then I saw I forgot to turn off the oven and then I was making sure the front and the back doors were locked.”

Gyuutaro should be more than alarmed at the mention of forgetting to turn off the oven. Should question if you do that often and if he’s going to need to remind you or check himself before he can rest.

He should be, he likely will the following day but for now he’s far too captivated by you. Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows thickly when sky blues rove over your body. Drinking in how you don nothing but one of the hoodies he’d left here with only panties underneath. Overtly ogling you, letting his eyes linger on your pillowy thighs before they’re hidden from view when you crawl beneath the covers.

“Gonna sleep standin up taro?” Cooed cutely as you tap the empty space next to you, “pretty sure this is more comfortable though.”

You’re so cute to him, every positive descriptor he could use for a person comes to mind when he looks at you. Alluring without trying to be, or maybe you were with the way you pose yourself even beneath the thick comforter. Adorable with the way you smile at him, however impish the expression may be at times. You make Gyuutaro’s mind race but externally he looks calm as he crosses the room to join you even as he retorts, “maybe not with yer popsicle feet.”

Proving him right instantly as you cling to the warmth of his body, blade of your foot working up his joggers up just enough for your skin to touch his and earn a hiss. A curse from his lips hangs in the air but he resents none of what transpires as you squeal and giggle while Gyuutaro wrestles to return the favor. Gripping at his hoodie to let his cold hands rest at your waist before you offer a truth he’d rather label a concession.

Finally settling down with your back to him, scooting back into him until you’re contoured to the curve of his body. Finding an acceptable position to cuddle and be cuddled when his leg settles between yours with Gyuutaro’s arm thrown around your torso to keep you close.

Not that you’d dream of moving away, shimmying lower with an excited energy moments after you’ve both quietly settled together. And you were tired, honestly you were, whenever you’d initially got ready for bed.

Until Gyuutaro came out of the shower and you fully registered he’d be staying the night.

You’d cuddled plenty before, all during the week you’ve crawled in his lap or curled comfortably on his chest. You weren’t particularly that shy about anything with him either, not entirely anyway; more bold than you’d certainly ever been with all the times you’ve straddled him and held his face in your hands to kiss him as much as you pleased.

Going to sleep together was comparatively one of the more innocent, albeit just as intimate, moments with Gyuutaro.

Heaving a heavy exhale as you scoot ever closer into him, curling into yourself and writhing slightly as you adjust the position of your bodies. Wrapping your arm around Gyuutaro’s as it coils tighter around you, satisfied with the slight change before the sound of his voice sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Too much energy,” husked almost groggily from the gravel in his tone against the shell of your ear.

You shift slightly, kissing his knobby knuckles in silent apology as you twist your body once again, “m tryin to get comfy, just a little restless.”

“Ya sure it’s just that? Don’t really look like yer tryin to go to sleep baby,” voice a low tease as his other arm snakes between the mattress and your waist. Rough pads of fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your stomach as he slides lower, slipping beneath your panties to cup your mound with a sigh and, “need some help?”

You cast a glance in mock innocence over your shoulder at him, a pleading gleam in your eye as you slowly nod your head.

Not that he was entirely waiting on a definitive answer, having received an explicit enough response when you’d spread your legs wider for him, but; he still had no intention to deny you as he slowly rolls his fingers over your clit until your hips. Testingly at first, varying pressure and motions while he watches what you respond best to until your hips are bucking into his hand and you sigh out his name so sweetly, breathily.

He builds you slowly at first, basking in the way you respond to him but just when you’re on the cusp of euphoria he pulls his hand away, halting your high so abruptly you voice your frustrations just as Gyuutaro turns you onto your back.

“Don’t whine,” as he lays you on your back, fingers looped into the band of your panties on either side of your hips before tugging them lower to slip them off your supple thighs to position himself between them. Wasting no time in burying his face in your cunt like a man starved.

You don’t get time to protest, gasping with a roll of your eyes as you arch from the mattress with his first languid stripe up your soaking slit. Gyuutaro lets out a low, rumbling groan at the taste of you that sends pleasant vibrations and shocks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Lost in you as he laps lazily as your lips, harding whetting his appetite like this before his fingers join the fray, calloused pads playing in the gathering slick before adding just a modicum of pressure to spread your sticky folds as he ducks his head lower. Lids fluttering and he relishes in how your hips twitch just before the tense with each lazy lap until his lips purse around the pert little pearl at the apex of your pussy for a kiss.

Sweetly, affectionaly before sensually suckling at it in an adoring assault, alternating between rapid lateral flicks of his wet muscle and circling around it until your fingers thread through wavy locks.

Arching slightly from the mattress as your hips twitch minutely into his face, earning a rumbling chuckle from Gyuutaro and another kiss to your puffy clit. Softly sighing his name, broken by a muted moan and choked by a gasp when he resumes the motions he’d found you’d liked the most.

Humming your approval to him as your thighs tremble around his skull and your nails gently rake along his scalp as he works you over generously. Fueled by every sound and reaction you reward him with, never liking the sound of his name more than how you gasp it as thick digits sink into your greedy cunt gradually.

Gyuutaro’s middle finger first as he tests the motions and finds a rhythm. His ring finger follows second and it has you spasming without control, biting your lip to stifle the first debauched moan. Surely stoking his ego as you helpless rut into his face with babbled, witless whines of his name as you gripped the sheets beneath you like a lifeline.

He enjoys watching what he does to you, delights in how helpless you are to the pleasure he provides as the taste of you turns saccharine on his tongue when the coil finally snaps. Exhaling a breathy, “fuuuck, oh ‘taro ‘m cumming,” as the tension bleeds from your body and the roll of your hips falls out of sync with him.

Left reeling after he’s pulled his fingers from your convulsing cunt and climbing up your body, given no time to consider lamenting the loss as Gyuutaro cups your face for an impassioned kiss. Long tongue swiping over yours as he coos praises at you throatily between dizzying kisses but you’re too focused on the rigid length that pokes into the fat of your inner thigh. Leaky tip steadily staining his borrowed sleep pants as it soaks through his underwear, throbbing and left neglected while he enthusiastically tended to your own pleasure.

Humming as your fingers thread into his unruly locks and your leg hooks on his hip before moving in one swift motion, flipping your positions to straddle him instead. Arching into Gyuutaro and giggling at the muted sound of surprise that you swallow in chasing kisses, resting your weight on the tops of your thighs. Hovering slightly as your hands splay out over his chest, body alight and still thrumming with the aftershocks of euphoria as you arch into him, hands sliding from his pectorals to his trapezius.

Your thumbs swipe along the columns of his throat as your lips seal over his with a hum before reaching higher to thread into his hair. Blunt nails scratching soothingly at the curve of his skull as his arms wrap around you to pull you closer.

His lips seal over yours with a sigh as his hands roam your body, groping intermittently with appreciative groans that grow in volume.

“Fuck, I want you,” husked against your skin as his head dips to litter your throat with open mouthed kisses. Jagged teeth nipping pleasantly at sensitive flesh as you tilt your head to the side to grant him more access. Whining encouraging when Gyuutaro’s teeth testingly sink into the slope of your throat, moaning unabashedly when he adds more pressure. Not enough to break skin but enough to mark you as his, lovingly marr the unblemished space with the structure of his jaw.

Every reaction to him fuels him, goads him further and fans the flames of desire even more so as you soak through the lacy garment you wear and his borrowed joggers. Finally reaching between your bodies to grip at the elastic band and pull it down just below his sac to run his leaking tip between your folds.

“Wait, wait, ‘taro” muttered between hungry kisses, gently pressing your fingers into the planes of his chest, “do you have a condom?”

There’s a glaze over Gyuutaro’s eyes, lidded gaze “never had a reason to carry one pretty girl,” nosing at your pulse point, lips brushing over the thrumming artery affectionately as he kneads at the juntures of your thighs, “do you?”

“Um.. no? Was I supposed to?”

“Nah, m’ glad ya don’t, jealous guy after all” winking as he squeezes at the fat of your ass again and gives you a fleeting kiss, “but if I sink you on my cock I ain’t gonna wanna pull out.”

It is a little early on for him to even consider breeding you even though, in his shriveled little heart you’ve made room in, he’s certain you’re the one; he doesn’t want to risk scaring you off. Missing how your lips part in a soundless sigh at his comment, if he hadn’t you likely would’ve been pinned to the mattress with the entire length bullied into you in one stroke to feel that delicious burn of the sudden stretch.

Instead you give him a parting kiss that leaves him momentarily confused, subtly shimmying as you litter a trail chaste but loving brushes of your lips over every part of him that you adore.

First to the corners of his lips that curl up with his devious grins, impish smirks and gentle smiles. Then to the inky black birthmark that decorates both edges of his mouth, dipping lower to his adams apple that always bobs distractingly and sometimes holds your gaze in the times there’s a lull in conversation.

Your hands glide down his body to dip beneath the material of his hoodie as you straddle his knees. Hem of his borrowed hoodie pooling at your wrists as the pads of your fingers press into the toned flesh of his abdomen, firmer as your push upwards when Gyuutaro stops you. Broad palm and long digits resting on both of your hands to halt your ascent, jarring you slightly, ready to recoil in embarrassment thinking you’d misunderstood and were too forward when his free hand grasps at your chin to keep you in place.

“It’s not that baby, god it ain’t that,” he whispers, moving some loose hairs away from your face and running his thumb over your cheek, “just.. You don’t have to, ‘m not.” His voice softens and the sentence trails as his confidence wanes drastically with no intention to finish it, unsure of how he wanted to explain to you.

If he wanted to explain at all; especially something he thought he’d resolved and absolved himself of at a young age from cruel lessons hard learned.

You cup his face as lovingly, as you always do, comforting him with touch alone in ways even he didn’t know he needed and Gyuutaro is ever grateful for it as he leans into your palm with fluttering lashes. He’s certain of one thing as you blindly offer him consolation, he’s that same sniveling coward he was as a child.

He fears rejection but only from you, that it’ll take seeing him laid bare before you for you to finally feel the repulsion someone like you should’ve always felt towards a man like him.

You’ve proved yourself gentle with his jagged edges though, a sanctuary for him to find solace, time and time again.

“I want to, please?” your voice is barely a whisper, hand resting gently over his clothed cock, your index finger tracing the outline of his heady length.

Gyuutaro swallows thickly, the hushed plea and how you palm him making him throb with a need that overshadows his cowardice. He concedes to you once again as he nods, untrusting of his voice to not embarrass or fail him should he try to respond. You flash him a dazzling smile, the same one that had him fisting himself in the shower or in his bed with a pair of your underwear balled to his nose the nights following his days filled with you.

Would you laugh if he told you that all the simple things you did made him ache for you down to his bones? Probably not, because you’re kind like that, because you’re here with him right now, eager to please.

His blood roars in his ears and rushes in his veins over the way your fingers dance along his abdomen, pushing up his oversized hoodie to expose the years of his neglect the months of your care could only dream of reversing.

You can see some of his ribs but they’re far less pronounced than before he’d met you, though much less drastically and the crests of his hips still protrude a little too sharply for either of your liking.

And even though you’ve never judged him once in the time he’s known you, Gyuutaro still can’t help but hold his breath when the fabric is completely tugged over his head and you run your hands back down his body with such caring adoration.

You lean forward to kiss him then, a reassuring peck to his lips where your taste still lingers, another to his jaw, mapping a trail down his body to finally press another just below his navel as you untie the drawstring of his bottoms. You can feel his abdomen tense beneath plush lips when you hook your fingers into the material, urging you to press another kiss directly above the elastic band.

“Lift your hips,” your voice is sweet, gently commanding as he complies with little delay and shimmies from the cotton blend. Your fingers tap up his lithe but densely corded muscled thighs, sliding over his rigid cock that tents the fabric of his underwear before you let soft hand linger over the straining material. His jaw clenches tightly, molars gnawing at the inside of his cheek while you rub your palm over the bulge, kneading coyly and swiping your thumb over the darkened fabric dampened by his leaky tip.

Finally tugging his boxers down after a few agonizing minutes with a mischievously cute giggle but only just enough to free it of its confines and no lower. His engorged tip taps against his pelvis with a soft pap, saliva pooling on your tongue at just the sight of it, flushed and leaky.

You ogle him for a long moment and his lips part after his tongue nervously darts out to wet the flesh when your fingers wrap around the base of him. Your palm feels cool compared to the heated skin throbbing beneath it, it makes him hiss reflexively and you flinch slightly but thankfully your confidence doesn’t wane.

Moderately emboldened as you place your thumb and index fingers on his mons so the underside of his shaft rests in the web of your palm. Keeping his hard cock directly upright as you adjust closer to him, lying on your stomach between his legs.

His heart could almost skip a beat at the sight of you, how focused you look, he can’t tear his gaze away from how you stare at him. As if Gyuutaro and the pleasure you’ll provide him is the only thing that’s going through that meticulous little mind of yours that he’s come to adore.

Leaning closer as you purse your lips around the mushroomed tip with unwavering eye contact just to tease Gyuutaro as he had earlier. Humming coyly as you pull back with a mischievous quirk to your lips as you take a moment more to appreciate the view.

Memorizing the was his fingers fist the sheets and his pretty face dusts with a hint of red while his cock twitches in your hold.

It’s long, just like you thought it would be, thick too with a slight curve and a prominent vein in the underside. The muscles of his abdomen tighten when you test different pressures until you think you’ve found one he appreciates, thumb tracing over the slit of his mushroomed tip to spread the pre that leaks from the tip next.

He lets out a hiss, chest rising and falling a little faster when you give him experimental kitten licks to the head down the underside of his shaft. Tip of your tongue tracing over the vein all the way down only to let the flat of the wet muscle caress his girth as you drag upwards again.

Ending your teasing as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, taking him in slowly, sensually. Stretching your lips around it to form a tight ‘o’ before suckling gingerly in a way that earns you a beautiful sigh that has your lashes fluttering open to drink in just what you do to him.

Only to meet the gaze eyes of clear blue skies now darkened into a stormy cobalt before his hips jerk upwards slightly into your pursed lips with a curse, “fuck baby don’t do that, I could cum just lookin at ya like this.”

You take more of him, hum giddily when he huffs a light “fuck”, threading his fingers into your hair to push the lose strands that fall into your face. It’s tender, the way he tucks some behind your ear and gently holds the back of your head as you bob on his length.

“You’re so pretty,” Gyuutaro whispers, hips thrusting slowly, albeit jerkily, into your mouth. Emitting an involuntary rumbling groan when you hollow your cheeks, taking him in to the base of his cock in tandem with his thrusts.

You make him more vocal than you’d imagined he’d be, clenching your thighs to abate the throb to your clit from the sound of him.

Gyuutaro can’t help the noises that escape him before long, jaw falling slack as his head lolls back onto your headboard while he rewards you with his pleasure. He apologizes each time you gag on him, each time he thrusts to the back of your throat that makes your eyes water but you can’t say you hate it, far from. You thoroughly enjoy the way he chases his climax helplessly, using you for his pleasure while still being so loving.

His hands scratch lightly at your scalp, winding your hair carefully around his fingers, “Yer perfect, shit, yer amazin’— d-don’t stop baby please.”

You bring your hand down from where you caress his hips, fondling his sac to aid him toward his climax. Humming as you watch his jaw set tightly and Gyuutaro can no longer manage the rut of his hips, fucking up into your face with abandon when the coil finally snap. He lets out a long, relieved moan whenever he finally cums down your throat with a stuttered curse and throaty growl as your only warning.

He rides his high, fucking your slowly until he’s calmed down and you pull away with an audible pop. Swiping away the drool that dribbled down your chin, smiling to yourself as you appreciate the state you’ve left him in.

Gyuutaro’s managed to regulate his bresthing when you crawl up his body, tucking into his side with a leg kicked over his own. He presses his lips to your temple after he runs his thumb over the corner of your lips to wipe away the bit of saliva you’d missed. You nuzzle into him, arms wrapping tightly around his torso, warmth radiating between you both, “feelin’ good?”

“Yeah, feeling great. I think I’m gonna call out today,” he says after a long minute, lacing his fingers with yours over his chest, “it’ll be fine for one day.”

You hum tiredly in response, lifting your head slightly to rest your chin on his chest as a single digit twirls a lock of your hair mindlessly. Simply basking in the afterglow of everything and not just what Gyuutaro has done with you tonight.

He pulls your face to his in a tender kiss, one where you can’t help but smile at the affection, rolling your lip between your teeth when he cups the curve of your skull.

“Would ya wanna have lunch with me later? Want ya to meet my sister.”

#vixen writes #gyutaro smut #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x you #gyutaro x y/n

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