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zepskies · 11 months ago

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Smoke Eater - Part 15

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁

**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.

If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!

Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.

Part 15: “The Good Part”

“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.

His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.

“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.

“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.

Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.

The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.

“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”

“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”

Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”

Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.

“Dad, it’s your move.”

Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.

“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.

Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Daniel just smiled.

It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.

Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.

Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.

You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.

If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.

“How old were they?” you asked.

Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”

You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”

Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.

“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”

Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.

Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.

“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.

Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.

“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”

Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.

He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.

“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”

Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”

She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”

You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.

“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.

“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.

You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.

You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)

Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.

“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.

“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”

Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.

“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”

You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.

“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”

“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”

Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.

“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.

“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”

Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.

“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”

“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”

You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.

“What model is this?” you asked.

“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.

He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.

What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.

“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”

Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.

His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”

It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.

“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.

You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.

“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.

“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”

He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.

You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.

“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”

Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes.

“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.

It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.

“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.

Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”

When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.

In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.

John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”

“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.

There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.

“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.

“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.

Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.

“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”

You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.

You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.

Or as Dean would say, Your people.

To you, that was life.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.

You shot him an amused look.

“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.

Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.

“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”

Your brows raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”

You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”

“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.

You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.

“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).

“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”

You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.

Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.

He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.

But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.

Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.

“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.

You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.

“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”

He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”

“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.

You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.

“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”

“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.

You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.

“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.

“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.

John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.

In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.

Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.

By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.

You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.

Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.

You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.

Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.

“Are you asking?”

He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.

“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.

He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.

“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”

“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.

“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.

You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan.

First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.

You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.

By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.

Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.

“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.

You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”

He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.

“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.

“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.

Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.

You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”

You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.

“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.

Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.

“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.

Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.

Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.

“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”

Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh.

“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.

“Just relax.”

You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.

You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.

Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.

He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.

…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.

When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.

He groaned deep, surprising even himself.

Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”

Dean chuckled. “Never.”

You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.

Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.

You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.

You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.

“I love you, you know?” you said.

Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.

He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.

You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.

Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.

You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.

You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.

But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.

There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.

You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.

You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.

But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”

He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.

Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

It was a heady feeling, and you needed a moment just to recover. Even though you were on birth control, every time he came inside you still felt like a dangerous, delicious game.

But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.

It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…

“You like kids, huh?”

The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.

He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.

Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”

“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”

He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”

Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.

“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.

You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.

“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.

“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”

You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.

“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”

He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”

You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.

“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.

Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it.

“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach.

“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.

And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”

Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.

“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”

AN: All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?

...Ready for some more drama? 😏

Next Time:

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

Keep Reading: PART 16

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#The Good Part #Smoke Eater #Part 15 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #Sam Winchester #eileen leahy #john winchester #zepskies writes

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anarchy-and-piglins · 5 months ago

Note

How about a Mafia Peerpressure AU?

Techno is a high school student. He tutors middle schoolers as part-time job to save up money for college. He totally expects to get scholarships and stuff, but places don't really DO full rides anymore. In modern day now times, full rides don't really exist. So, yeah, he tutors middle schoolers for money.

His favorite student is Ranboo. Obviously, because his Moms pay the best. And they have the nicest house. And the best snacks. Like, really, other kids his age are breaking their backs serving burgers to stuck up Karens while Techno is chilling teaching a quiet kid about area and perimeter formulas. He wins.

And maaaaayybe Ranboo is pretty cool, too. He certainly doesn't try to bite like Phil's younger brother Tommy. If Phil wasn’t his best friend, he would drown that jerk in the school pool for laughing at him when Tommy LITERALLY bit his ankles. Ranboo's also better than that kid Tubbo because it was SOOOOO obvious that kid already knew everything and just thought it was hilarious to pretend he didn't. Techno saw the calculus book in the kid's room. He wasn't fooled.

Ranboo was smart, too. He was just a little shy and unconfident. Anxious with a issues with forgetting assignments and homework. His mind tended to wander in class and only zoned back in when the teacher repeated the question for the third time.

Technoblade TOTALLY didn't see himself in Ranboo. Nope. No way. The fact that Technoblade's self-made strategies helped the kid out was complete coincidence. Yep.

Ranboo was also HILARIOUS. Once the kid realized Technoblade wasn't going to roll his eyes whenever Ranboo accidentally left his homework at school, the kid brightened up alot. The sarcasm matched Technoblade's humor well. They have a lot of the same interests, too!

Honestly, Techno wondered if this was what it was like to have a little brother. Techno had always assumed a younger sibling would result in a kid like...Tommy.

Eventually, there is some event that has the Middle Schoolers come up to the High School for the day. Maybe a sport event, maybe a Mentor Day. However, Techno just sort of sees Ranboo around in the periphery.

Until lunch.

Of COURSE Tommy would find some way to weasel away from his group to eat lunch with his Brother. Phil doesn't seem too bothered (or surprised) by his little brother squeezing onto the bench at lunch.

However, Tommy didn't JUST bring himself. Oh no, he had to bring the rest of his trio with him. All three of them squeezing to try and fit on the bench.

Ranboo apologizes when his elbow digs into Techno's side. Techno assures him its fine.

Or it was fine until the men with guns come in.

Instant chaos. Kids start running before the men with guns even say anything. Phil yeets Tommy out of the bench before grabbing Tubbo's arm and sprinting. Techno throws a frozen Ranboo over his shoulder and follows. The men with guns fire into the ceiling, shouting orders at the kids who haven't run yet.

Technoblade's group don't hear it. They are already out the door and GONE.

They aren't the only ones. Techno definitely passes Niki and Jack. Quackity and Charlie carried Fundy and Purpled (well, Charlie was carrying them) and were running toward the front parking lot. Technoblade's group turn a corner and MORE MEN WITH GUNS.

They just barely get away from them, but Ranboo and Techno get separated from the others.

Ranboo is freaking out, saying that he HAS to call his Moms. He NEEDS to call them. Technoblade tries to say they NEED to call the police, but Ranboo is insistent.

Technoblade finds a place for them to hide under a stairwell and Ranboo immediately wips out his phone and calls his Moms. Techno keeps a lookout, listening for ANYONE who gets close. He doesn't even register Ranboos whispered conversation.

Ranboo tugs on Techno’s sleeve and hands the phone to him.

Techno has never heard Ranboo's Mom be so...serious. She is usually so warm, but she is downright FRIGID. She tells Technoblade to try and make their way to the gymnasium, which is on the complete opposite side of the building. They have to do it while staying out of sight of the cameras. Techno tries to ask for an explanation, but he keeps getting cut off by her clipped tone.

Eventually, the line goes dead and Technoblade has nothing else to do but obey.

Cue desperate attempt to get through the school. Climbing up into the drop ceiling and army crawling across classrooms held at gunpoint. Lock picking the door that leads to the roof so they can carefully make it to the fire escape on the otherside.

At one point, Techno gets in a tussle with a solitary gunman, tries to wrestle to get the gun away from him without the guy calling for help. The guy manages to shoot Techno in the arm, but he doesn't give up. In the tussle, Ranboo kicks a fireman's axe toward Technoblade.

Technoblade doesn't even hesitate to bury it in the guy's neck. Though, afterwards, he quietly had a panic attack over what he just did.

He can't act scared, though. That will just freak Ranboo out more than the kid was already freaking out. Honestly, he should have grabbed a paper bag earlier to help with the hyperventalating kid.

Technoblade is still bleeding from the gunshot that hit is bicep. But they don't have time to fix it because the scuffle was DEFINITELY heard.

Techno grabs Ranboo's wrist and sprint toward the gym. They are so close. He ignores the shouts after them as he bursts throught the door into the gymnasium. There is no one in there and they HAVE TO HIDE.

The locker rooms? No, they will check that immediately. Under the bleachers? They'll be spotted. Technoblade spots the climbing rope. He tells Ranboo to wrap his arms around Techno's neck and Technoblade starts to climb.

Never had Techno been more grateful that he was incredibly competitive. He and Phil had been trying to one up each other with the dumb rope, seeing who could get the top first. Phil HAD to be part bird with the way he seemed to FLY up the dang thing. But Techno was still quick.

The freely bleeding arm wound and the clinging child didn't even phase him. He was sure that he broke his own record with how fast he pulled himself up it.

Carefully, he pulled Ranboo and himself up onto the giant metal ceiling frame. Techno just barely ducks behind a piece of the frame, tucking Ranboo to his chest, as the gunmen sprint inside.

Techno covers his mouth to hide his gasping breathe as the gunmen scour the room, speaking into radios at their hips. Frustration bleeding into their expressions.

Then, a man dressed in Green walks in the room.

He doesn't have a gun, but he still feels dangerous even with the relaxed posture. Techno pulls Ranboo a little closer as the man speaks to the gunmen, hands in his pockets as his eyes glance around.

And then glances up.

And smiles.

No matter how nicely his asks for them to come down, Technoblade can still see the guns aimed upwards.

Man in Green wants him to come down and give him the kid? What kid? There is no kid here. He must be seeing things. And coming down isn't an option. He is in the middle of his Climbing Exam and they aren't supposed to cover "climbing down" until after the midterm-

Warning shots. Techno pretends that his heart isn't trying to beat of his chest. Tries to pretend that Ranboo isn't shaking curled up against him. Tries to act cool and unbothered as the man in green gives him One More Chance to come down before they open fire-

The gym doors slam open. The gunmen turn, weapons swinging behind them.

Gunfire echoes in the room, loud and booming and painful and Techno buries his face into Ranboo's hair, squeezing his eyes closed tight until the sound starts to fade.

He doesn't look up. But then, he hears a familiar voice.

Ranboo shoots up at the sound of his Mom's voice leaning over the beam to see his Mom standing dressed in body armor, men in black and purple suits fanning out among the lifeless forms of the gunmen before.

Technoblade almost doesn't let Ranboo go as the kid scoots to try and climb down the rope, eyes teary as the gangly kid awkwardly slides down.

Hesitantly, Technoblade follows.

As soon as Technoblade's feet touch the mat, he passes the fuck out. Stress and Bloodloss will do that to you.

Techno wakes up in a private hospital room, Ranboo fiddling with his fingers sitting next to him. When Techno wakes up, Ranboo looks relieved but nervous. Technoblade asks for an explanation and hesitantly, Ranboo talks.

His Mom's ran Ender, a criminal empire. One of their competitors had tried to kidnap Ranboo during the event at the high school because it was more unfamiliar to his security team. As soon a his Moms found out, they immediately rallied to get the school as soon as they could.

Techno asks if he had just joined the Mob by mistake, because he REALLY wasn't about. Ranboo hurries to say no, you aren't in the mafia. Not unless you want to be. But Ranboo's Moms WOULD like to pay Techno extra the next time Techno tutors.

Techno also asks if Ranboo is going to be the next head of The Ender and Ranboo laughs about that because DEFINITELY not. His older sister who goes to OSMP University is going to be the next leader. Definitely not him.

All that settled, Technoblade is definitely not going to complain about how hectic Tommy tutoring is EVER again.

Techno saying no to the mob thing initially but being sliiiightly coerced into being paid extra to be Ranboo's unofficial bodyguard, perhaps? As a treat?

#ranboo #technoblade #thoughts #asks #lenn takes the mic #love me a good peerpressureduo thing this one was tasty yesyes

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qiaipia · 1 year ago

Text

Somebody Tied You to an Ant Pile — miguel o’hara

ミ★ a Bullet fic on being in Highschool with a Miguel O’HottieHara

ミCONTENT: miguel o’hara x afab! reader. childhood friends to lovers. nerd/popular trope. messing around (r16). Inspired by blueastriz’s work on TT.

read this as if i was a friend barging in ur inbox for a fic idea lmao. don’t take the formatting too srsly!

The cicadas rang their symphony in the hot summer air. It was time to part ways.

“You’ll text right?” An 11-year old Miguel O’Hara pouts, beside you on the swing. The sun was setting. A chapter was now closing.

You laugh, excited about the new adventure that came with moving homes, but you give him your biggest comforting smile. “Of course! You’re my best friend Miggy, we’ll even talk all night if you want to!”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, pout still evident.

You outstretch your hand, and he hands his over, interlacing each other. Stubby and sweaty children hands.

You gave his soft palms a gentle squeeze. “I promise. Nothing’s going to get in between us.” Your eyes beamed with hope.

Miguel gave a small smile and nods. “I’ll ask mama to buy me a phone.”

- But that was 5 years ago and well, times have changed.

- But now you’re in Highschool as a popular kid!!

- Mostly because you hung out with the mean girls

- names? Stacy and Jane lmao

- You though? you’re Nice, buuuutt you were also a bystander. Kid getting bullied? Not exactly your problem.

- But when it mattered you spoke your mind and had a rbf so everyone stays away from your clique

- You and Miguel go waaaayy back

- Before you moved you were neighbors!

- You and Miguel are childhood best friends

- First grade at ur old school some bullies tied you and Miguel to an antpile

- You two were bonded ever since over red ant bites and swollen faces

- Playing games together with the O’Hara brothers

- Pulling stunts on his younger brother Gabri

- Making messes everywhere

- And blaming Gabri lol

- U guys were together EVERYDAY practically inseparable by the 6th grade. Never one without the other

- Then you moved u tried keeping contact but life kept u both busy, u guys just eventually stopped talking

- Cue 10th grade! There is a new transfer student

- U usually dont care, so u went a while without noticing this transferee

- Then you saw someone getting picked on at lunch

- U were studying the kid from afar - Jane saw u staring and teased u for it

- Said his name was Miguel O’Hara. The newbie

- “He’ll adapt soon enough.”

- DUH u remembered Miguel. He was ur grade school crush. And with his dorky glasses and thin frame, you STILL thought he was cute

- U wait for him out of his AP Science class

- U creep behind him as he rummages through his locker and u shove him to get his attention

- He was annoyed doe, “Ay mierda, you piece of shits took all my lunch money, I have nothing more-“

- You grab hold of his shoulders and turn him around with the biggest grin on ur face lol

- He is light as a feather and u were the same height lmao

- He squints at you. “y/n?”

- “Hola Miggy.” You laugh.

- He is Shookt!! U went HERE?!?!

- U guys catch up going home, it was getting dark! U tease him abt the glasses, he teases u that ur a popular girl now

- He is surprised,, to see u have such a big house now WOW ok

- Ur family moved because ur dad got a better job offer and made much much more in the business

- U invite him in, he says his bro is waiting for him. U miss Gabri!!

- He is shookt when u say u have a pool PLS. U promise to invite him over next time

- Gabri teases him ALL NIGHT LONG abt u, ur Miguel’s his gradeschool crush too, now he’s just happy to get back his friend

- The next time someone bullies Miguel in front of u, its a jock who likes u, and u dont say much, so people are surprised u defend this nerdy new guy

- “Pick on someone your own size Archie. You get off hurting people smaller than you?” You call out from your seat on the table.

- Stacy backs you up. “Maybe he’s compensating for something.” She snickers. You make a puking sound. Everyone laughs.

- Archie is embarrassed and leaves.

- You flash Miguel a wink. He has to laugh. You stood up for him.

- Honestly, you guys don’t really interact at school. It was like teenage pride abt different social statuses and whatnot. You knew it would be bad for you and Miguel if you guys were seen together.

- but u always wait for him on the days he has AP classes.

- In return he walks you home.

- You both catch up.

- Remember times like when you were both in grade-school, like the time his pants fell down while he was on the jungle gym. Or how you made a stupid amount of pastillas with him and had a sugar rush for days.

- How your parents were now getting a divorce, and how yesterday he caught Gabri smoking Camels

- Your girl friends have caught on. They wanna know the guy you were seeing.

- You had a stupid smile on your face all the time, of course it was a boy.

- You couldn’t tell them of course, its social suicide

- Once he came out of the AP Class early, you were confused

- He said classes were cancelled

- It was too early to go home, but it was too late to stay in school

- He mentions that Gabri was at a friends house and that the house was empty

- “Let’s get home before your mom does, yeah?” You say shakily, with a grin - You both obviously knew where this was going.

- You both rushed to his house, nervous and clammy

- “Is this your first time?” You ask with a nervous bite on your lips. “Yeah, yours?” He says, awkward fitting jeans doing nothing to hide pre-pubescent down there emotions.

- “Mine too.” You mention nervously. “You’re shitting me.”

- “Don’t laugh!” You squeal throwing a pillow at him.

- You didn’t know much about your body yet, and neither did Miguel, but his brown eyes were so captivating as he shuffled on top of you, sans glasses

- It’s a normal thing now lol

- Miguel actually ditches AP classes to mess around wit u

- Esp with Gabri being out all the time

- down bad fr

- But it sort of goes like u need help also with homework after,,

- So u learn??? because Miggy is such a smart cookie

- U ACTUALLY LEARN

- U learn each others bodies too atp so thats cute!!

- It shows in ur grades lol

- By then he is literally the only one ur messing around with

- But this one time: you both fall asleep after particularly tiring time alone

- Sleep UNTIL DARK

- Conchata’s knock wakes u both tf UP

- It’s impossible to hide u so u both settle for messily dressed and “We’re doing homework.”

- She doesn’t remember u at Miguel’s insistence lol

- You awkwardly leave the house because she is NOT happy her son is bringing a girl home behind her back. Under the roof she pays for?!?!

- “Do you even use protection mijo?” “…” “AY POR DIOS MIGUEL”

- And well, now he gotta text his mom when u come over and Gabri gotta be there too

- Gabri loves having u around, he geeks out with ur secret obsessions of comic books! It’s not really popular among your friend group, but you got really into it last year

- Conchata doesn’t really approve of her son hanging out with a girl but “Ma I’m tutoring her.” And she rolls her eyes

- You see it’s tense between mother and eldest son

- You put a hand over Miguel’s after a harsh fight. “But you still love your mom don’t you?”

- His eyes soften.

- You have definitely pulled Miguel under the bleachers to make out once or twice

- And you definitely have dragged him to empty supply closets lol

- He’s down bad and a pretty girl just asked to blow him so is his 16 year old self gonna say no?

- Fuck no.

- You can’t keep ur hands to yourself lol

- Plus you can see Miguel is slowly but sure changing. You gotta tiptoe now to kiss him WHAT

- He also stares a LOT it gets you self conscious but he assures you your the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Followed by cupping your breasts and going “Have they always been this big?” Followed by you elbowing him

- And who says sex ruins friendships?? It doesn’t! You and Miguel are closer than ever because of it

- You know what does though?

- Love.

- And you found that out when you cried yourself to sleep when Miguel said he was asked out by a girl to hang out in his AP Class

- He said yes to her and he’ll hang out with you soon

- But it’s always the same girl with him

- Talking to him in class, during lunch, before, during and after AP Classes

- Eventually he was halving his time with you and with her

- They match well together, him and Xina Kwan. She was crazy smart and the same social status as him too.

- She was sweet and smart and you have been avoiding Miguel like the plague in hopes it won’t wake up the vicious green monster

- DAMN you were crying, mascara all over your face.

- It was the last day of school too urgh poor u. You wipe your tears as you wash you face on the school bathroom sink

- Miguel had enough of u ignoring him tho so he walks up to you

- While you were with ALL your popular friends around ur locker

- And he asks if you wanted to walk home together

- He wasn’t really thinking, he just didn’t want u to avoid him anymore

- You gave him a horrified look and ran away

- And everyone laughed at poor heartbroken Miguel O’Hara

If this works out I’ll put out a fic for it. Hmu with thoughts!!

again, read this as if i was a friend barging in ur inbox for a fic idea lmao

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #atsv #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099: atsv #spiderman 2099 #+MYWORK+#miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o hara #spiderverse x y/n

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kjmsupremacist · 1 year ago

Text

poison sweet off the vine (chan/felix)

Chan, a poor student hoping to make a little extra money while he pursues a masters in music production, lands a gig as a super rich family's pool boy. He thinks it's pretty sweet at first. He'll get to stay in a fancy house and eat fancy leftovers and all he has to do is clean their pool and help out around the house. And then he meets Felix, the bratty, sharp-tongued, skirt-wearing son of his employers. He knows he could get fired for just looking at Felix the wrong way, but Felix, even with his stormy, unpredictable moods and ignorant selfishness, is alluring and beautiful.

Part 1 | next mlist

Characters: Chan, Felix, other members of skz throughout

Genre: smut, eventual romance, angst, I cannot overstate how much of this is sex

Pairing: Chan/Felix

Warnings: alcohol, family dysfunction, mentions of homophobia, slut-shaming (both the fun kind and the not fun kind), feminization

Rating: Explicit

Length: 12.4k

Felix has got some shit going on in this one. It's not, like, super serious and we don't really get into addiction territory, but I will say it might be triggering for some people, so please just proceed with caution.

On that, we also don't really see what I would say is a realistic path of recovery or whatever. The ending is by no means meant to be read as "and then they lived happily ever after the end" but I leave a lot out because ultimately this is a horny fic within a sort of fucked up setting, and I didn't want it to turn into a pedantic exercise. So I guess this is sort of me saying the dove isn't dead, per se, but it's not doing well. I'm in no way trying to glorify mental health issues brought on by neglect and self-loathing, so please just keep that in mind.

Chan probably should’ve known what he was getting himself into.

After months of searching for side jobs and apartments, he finally found what seemed to be a perfect solution—pool boy and general assistant around a grand estate, with room and board covered. The house is huge, with large, comfortable staff quarters. It’s a short bus ride away from the University of Sydney, where Chan will be pursuing a masters in music composition and production starting in February. And while the family who owns the place are rich and snobbish, they’re nice enough, and seemed reasonable during his phone interview.

Chan had no reason to say no. So in early December, he packed himself up and moved back to Australia from Korea, away from all his university friends and into a house of strangers. He’ll be missing the holidays with his family, but he wanted to start making money, so here he is. And up until this moment, Chan thought everything was going to be fine.

“You’ll sleep here.” Mrs. Lee shows Chan to his room personally—a basement level bedroom with a small connecting bathroom and a sizable closet. There’s even a small desk in the corner—perfect for when Chan will stay up late studying. “You’ll use the small kitchen to make most of your meals, but we have luncheons and dinners sometimes to which all the staff are invited. Additionally, our cooks usually buy a little extra on groceries in case something goes wrong. If there are any leftovers, they of course go to our live-in staff members. So don’t worry too much over your grocery bills. For tonight, of course, I hope you’ll join the family for dinner so we can get to know you. I understand you’ll be taking classes after the break?”

“Yes ma’am,” Chan says, nodding as he tentatively drops his bags on the floor.

“If you could just send me your schedules as you get them, that would be helpful,” Mrs. Lee says. “I will try to let you know in advance if there are any important events where we need you, but for the most part I’ll leave those decisions to you. I just like to know when we can expect you to be home or away.”

“Will do,” Chan agrees.

“Mostly, you’ll help with outdoor maintenance. We do have a gardener, but we let him know that he can feel free to ask for your help with more menial tasks.” Mrs. Lee gestures for Chan to follow her down the hall. “Here’s the staff laundry. There is also our main laundry room, where our maids take care of the family’s laundry. Since the holidays are coming up, we might be a little short-staffed over the next month or so. If our maid needs a hand with the laundry, can I ask you to assist?”

“Certainly,” Chan says.

“Perfect.” They head back up the stairs. “I believe that’s all I have for you, except to give you your key. Please use the staff entrance through the back. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Ah, yes,” Chan says. “Are there specific hours I’m expected to keep? Such as being up at a certain time?”

“Unless one of us requests your presence earlier, I don’t mind when you get up as long as your sleep schedule doesn’t inhibit you from performing your duties,” Mrs. Lee says. She rummages around in a drawer in the study. “Here.” She produces a silver key on a plain keyring, handing it to Chan. “Try not to lose it, but if you do, just tell us straight away. We know a good locksmith, so it will be a quick fix. You have all our contact information?”

“Yes,” Chan says, attaching the key to his ID protector that also has a few of his other things on it. “Thank you.”

“I think we’re all set, then,” Mrs. Lee says, leading Chan back out into the foyer. “I think introductions will wait until dinner, as my husband doesn’t get home from work for a few hours and goodness knows where Felix is—”

“I’m here, Eomma.” Chan turns at the sound of a deep voice, and sees his undoing poised at the top of the grand staircase.

He’s the prettiest thing Chan has ever seen. His hair is dyed a pale pink, and grown out so his bangs sweep low past his ears, the longest strands just brushing his shoulders. Chan can make out freckles scattering across his face, and delicate silver jewelry dangles from his ears and neck, glinting in the light as he makes his slow way down the stairs. Most notably, though, he’s in a baby pink blouse, tucked into a short white skirt, with matching pink knee-high stockings.

Chan’s world tilts. He knew that this family had kids, that they were around his age. But at the time, Chan had reasoned that it wouldn’t be a problem. He’d be too busy between work and eventually school to develop much of an interest, and besides, they were probably all boring, spoiled brats that Chan would become disenchanted with the instant he saw them.

Now, he has to grapple with the fact that he was sorely mistaken. Everything is not going to be fine, because his new employer has a beautiful, skirt-wearing son, and Chan has to fight to tear his eyes back to Mrs. Lee instead of staring at Felix’s thighs when his skirt flutters with every step.

“Is this the new pool boy?” Felix asks, and Chan doesn’t miss the lofty tint in his tone. He bristles a little, but it’s hard to stay mad when he glances back and catches sight of Felix’s cute little button nose scrunched just slightly against the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

“Yes, this is Chan,” Mrs. Lee says. “Chan, this is Felix, my son. He’s just finished his first year at university and is home for break.”

“Hi, Felix,” Chan says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” Felix replies as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “You’re studying music at Sydney Uni, aren’t you? For your masters, right?”

“Ah, yes,” Chan says, realizing that Felix must already know all about him; he has no doubt the parents shared his resume and details with their children before agreeing to hire him. “Where are you studying?”

“UWA,” Felix replies, smiling politely. “I’m not sure what I’ll be studying yet.”

“Perth,” Chan says, nodding. “That’s quite aways.”

“Not as far as Korea,” Felix says, and Chan can’t tell what he means by that. “Besides, Perth has some of the best schools, so it’s worth it.”

Chan decides that he’s being put down, but can’t figure out how, exactly, so doesn’t bother trying to piece it out. It hardly matters, anyway; Mrs. Lee is right here, so it’s in Chan’s best interest to remain ignorant and well-mannered. “That’s true,” he says simply.

Felix looks between Chan and his mother for a moment. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he says, and walks down the hall.

Mrs. Lee watches him go with a small, fond shake of her head, then turns back to Chan. “Feel free to head back to your room, wash up, maybe take a nap,” she offers. “I’m sure you’re tired from traveling. Dinner will be at seven.”

Chan ducks his head in lieu of a proper bow. “Thank you again for everything,” he says, and makes his escape. As he weaves back through the house, Chan catches a glimpse of Felix padding out into the garden. He’s got a full bottle of wine in hand, almost as pink as his stupid little stockings.

Chan sighs. It’s going to be a long summer. His only consolation is that Felix will go back to Perth at the start of the next semester and only be back for breaks, and Chan will be able to drown in his homework in peace.

* * *

Dinner is served at the big, fancy table in the dining room just off the foyer. Chan makes his way through the maze of hallways and sees an army of staff setting the table. He counts four positions—the parents, Felix, and him, then. The daughters aren’t supposed to be back for another week, if he recalls.

Mrs. Lee is directing her staff, positioned in the threshold of the kitchen entrance, tasting dishes and sending some back. She spots Chan during a lull and steps into the dining room fully.

“Please, take a seat.” She gestures him to the spot furthest from the head of the table. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Ah,” Chan says, pulling out his chair but hesitating to sit. “Just water, please. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, don’t worry,” she replies, ducking her head back into the kitchen. “A glass of water, please.” She pops her head back out to the dining room. “Though if Felix doesn’t appear by the time my husband arrives, I might ask you to go fetch him.”

Chan inclines his head, though the thought of it makes him tense. He doesn’t like the idea of being alone in a room with Felix. He’s not sure if it’s fear over what Felix will say to him, or fear of his own impulses. Maybe both.

The table is set before Chan; eventually, Mrs. Lee is satisfied with her staff and takes a seat, too, to the right of the head of the table, opposite side as Chan, which means Chan’s seatmate will be Felix. Great.

Mrs. Lee checks her watch. “I think he just got home,” she says. “Would you mind getting my son for me? We don’t want the food to get cold.”

“Sure,” Chan agrees, pushing his chair back cautiously and standing. “Any places I should check first?”

“Out in the garden, most likely,” Mrs. Lee replies. “If not there, then the pool, and if not there, then his room.”

“Got it.” Chan heads through several rooms to the back door, shoving his feet into the slippers Mrs. Lee had laid out for him there when he first arrived, and punches in the code on the alarm system so the siren doesn’t go off before opening the door.

The air is muggy and thick and oppressive. Chan feels the moisture on his skin as soon as the door shuts behind him. He trudges across the vast second-story patio and over the bridge that looks down onto the smaller patio below, as well as the pool. No sign of Felix there. He crosses into the gardens, venturing deeper until he comes upon a clearing. It’s lined with carefully-maintained plants and a few statues. There, on the other side, sprawled on an ornate bench beneath the grand weeping willow, is Felix. He had one arm draped over his eyes, the other hanging off the bench, clutching the neck of the wine bottle, which rests somewhat precariously in the grass.

“Ah, Felix?” Chan tries. Felix doesn’t budge. Sighing, Chan makes his way across the clearing, swatting a bug away as he nears him. There’s a nearly-red tinge to Felix’s cheeks, obscuring his freckles. He must have gotten some sun, despite the fact that this entire clearing is in shade. Then again, he’s been out all afternoon, Chan supposes. He comes to a stop a few feet away from the bench, unsure. The skirt Felix is wearing is riding up his thighs. Chan clears his throat and tries not to stare. “Felix, your father is home and your mother asked me to bring you to dinner.”

Felix raises the hand over his eyes, squinting up at Chan. There’s a blankness on his face for a few moments, and then a detached sort of recognition falls into place. “Pool Boy Chan,” he says, voice slow and syrupy. “Your welcome dinner, right. It’s seven already?”

“Seven-twenty,” Chan supplies.

Felix sighs, peeling himself up from his perch and bringing the bottle into his lap. Chan sees it’s almost completely empty, and understands the flush on Felix’s cheeks. He watches as Felix yawns, runs his eyes, and then surveys the contents of the bottle. “Ugh, it’s all warm,” he mutters, but downs it anyway before pushing himself up to his feet, now-empty bottle swinging at his side. He sways for a second but rights himself before Chan can reach out to help him. “Well?” he prompts, looking at Chan. “Are you gonna stand there, or are we gonna go to dinner?”

Chan wonders how Felix’s parents will react to the wine, but decides it’s not his place to say anything. “Right, yeah,” he says, turning and shuffling back the way he came, checking over his shoulder every now and again to make sure he hasn’t lost his charge.

Felix picks his way through the garden with ease. How are his stockings still so perfect? How is his blouse still tucked and smooth? How is he pretty even with a sour attitude and alcohol warm in his cheeks? Chan balks at this last thought. Stop it. You cannot be thinking about how pretty your boss’s son is. On day one. Get a fucking grip, Chris.

Felix does trip going from the grass and dirt of the garden to the concrete and tile of the bridge. Chan catches him, staying steady even when the wine bottle hits him right in the elbow. Chan makes the mistake of inhaling when Felix is pressed close. He smells like wine, certainly, but he also smells like lemons and sugar and something that makes Chan want to press his tongue to Felix’s skin.

“Sorry,” Felix says in a tone that’s just a touch too silky for his loss of balance to have been accidental. Chan steels himself, making sure Felix is solid before simply letting go.

“No worries,” he replies mildly. If Felix wants a reaction out of him, he’s not going to get one. “You okay?”

Felix nods, lifting the bottle a bit. “Drank most of it sitting down,” he says, offhand. “Thought I would sleep it off, but…”

Chan nods wordlessly, continuing across the bridge and patio, back to the door. He unlocks the door, sliding his shoes back off and waiting as Felix struggles a little with his. When he offers his hand, though, Felix gives him a look of disdain.

“I’m tipsy, not catatonic,” he says, tone icy. Chan retracts his hand quickly before he can stop himself, stung.

Felix gets rid of the empty wine bottle somewhere between the back entrance and the dining room. When they return, Mr. Lee is just settling into his chair. He looks up and, upon seeing Chan, offers his hand to shake. Chan hurries to accept.

“Chan?” Mr. Lee asks.

“Yes, sir,” Chan says. He doesn’t miss the slightly sharper inhale from behind him—thinly veiled amusement from Felix. He doesn’t turn his head.

Mr. Lee also ignores this intrusion. “Mr. Lee, and no need to call me sir,” he says. “Please, sit.”

“Thank you for getting Felix,” Mrs. Lee adds, picking up a dainty bell beside her empty wine glass and ringing it once. “He’s often late, though I must say it’s not like him to… indulge so much before dinner.” There’s a sharpness under the polite tint of her tone, Chan notes as he slides into his chair and reaches for his napkin—disappointment, edges jagged with embarrassment.

“I just had a couple glasses of wine,” Felix defends. Staff members file into the room, carrying pitches, dishes, more wine. “I’m on break, Eomma. I’m relaxing.”

“Only one glass with the meal,” Mrs. Lee says.

“Eomma,” Felix complains.

Mrs. Lee’s eyes flick to Chan, then back to her son. “Fine. Don’t do it again.”

Felix nods. Chan files this exchange into his mind to study later.

Wine is poured, soup is served, and dinner begins.

“So, you’re studying music, Chan?” Mr. Lee asks.

Chan is grateful the soup is made from cold cucumbers; he swallows quickly and painlessly so he can respond. “Ah, yes, music production.”

“The arts are very important,” Mr. Lee says. “But they require a passion.”

“I believe I have that,” Chan says as politely as possible.

“That’s good,” Mr. Lee says. “We are nothing without drive, ambition.”

Felix takes a long pull from his wine glass.

The rest of dinner goes this way—polite drivel bounced back and forth like a casual tennis match between Chan and the Lee parents, while Felix mostly ignores all of them in favor of his meal. Each new course resets Chan’s expectations for just how horrendously rich this family is. A dish featuring caviar is followed by a truffle risotto, and then lobster. The wine is endless, so Chan keeps to sips.

He also gets the distinct impression that family mealtime is rare, a practice that is stored away in a cabinet with the nice dishes, taken down and used only when necessary.

Chan doesn’t keep track of how much Felix is drinking, but by the time dessert comes around, the flush has crept down Felix’s neck. Still, he seems steady enough, and when he is pressed for a comment, he provides one with ease. So is that what he is? I guess every rich family has its functional alcoholic. More money, more problems.

“Thank you for the meal,” Chan says earnestly when the staff come to clear the last of their dishes away.

Mrs. Lee offers him a smile. “Of course,” she says. “Thank you for joining us.”

“Congratulations,” Felix cuts in before Chan can formulate a reply. “She’s impressed with your table manners.”

“Felix,” Mrs. Lee says, tone cool but meaning clear. “It wasn’t a test, Chan,” she adds. “We just would provide some… instruction if you had been… less practiced. So you could be prepared in the case of a more formal event.”

“Ah,” Chan manages.

“Well, on that note,” Mr. Lee says. “I think we’ve held Chan here long enough. You must be tired from traveling.”

“A bit,” Chan admits. It is true, but he’s mostly interested in getting away from the awkward tension at this table.

“Go on and get some rest, then,” Mrs. Lee says. “Both of you. The staff will clean up here. We—” She gestures to her husband. “—will likely be gone when you get up and will return later in the evening. That’s typical of our schedules. Meals are whenever you’re hungry. Our kitchen isn’t fully staffed at the moment, but Chan, please help yourself to any leftovers. Maya—one of our senior employees—will be able to help you.”

“Thank you,” Chan says. Felix is already standing. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Chan takes this as a final dismissal, and hurries to follow Felix’s retreating footsteps down the hall.

He doesn’t catch up to him; the steps leading down to the staff quarters are closer. As he descends, he looks back and catches a glimpse of the swishing white of the skirt and the faintest whiff of sugary lemons.

* * *

Chan collapsed into sleep as soon as he got settled in his room, exhaustion pulling him down into unconsciousness almost violently. When he wakes, the house is still and dark, the air in his room stale. There’s a damp patch directly beneath his body on the sheets from a small accumulation of sweat—he must not have moved a muscle since shutting his eyes.

Though fatigue weighs on his limbs, his mind is decidedly awake, so Chan pushes himself up, slapping around for his phone and then groaning when the bright screen sears his eyeballs.

Eventually, he discerns that it is 5:17 a.m. Chan’s an early riser, but not this early, so he blames it on the nap he took before dinner yesterday. In any case, it can’t be jetlag, since Korea is an hour behind Australia. Chan gets up and dressed, bumbling around his room quietly and trying to kill a little time.

Around six, his stomach growls angrily, so he resigns himself to human interaction and opens his door, making for the kitchen.

The light is on when he gets there, and an older woman is stacking dishes in one of the cupboards. She must have heard Chan approach, or else simply has a great sixth sense, because she turns as he enters.

“Chan?” she asks. She’s white, unlike most of the staff, with weathered skin and crooked teeth and piercing eyes. Chan guesses she must be in her mid-fifties; her hair is just beginning to grey.

“Ah, yes,” he says, realizing it was more a question than a greeting.

“Maya,” the woman says, and some neural pathway manages to fire in Chan’s brain and reminds him that this must be the woman Mrs. Lee mentioned the night before. “Good to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Chan replies.

“You hungry?” She returns to her task, sliding some plates into place.

“Yes,” Chan says.

“Me too.” She takes the last handful of silverware and files it into a drawer. “How about some bacon and eggs?”

“That would be amazing,” Chan says. “Can I help?”

“If you want toast, it’s in here,” Maya says, tapping a long, skinny cabinet door as she shuffled past on her way to the fridge. “Could you grab me a slice? Not toasted, though, just leave it on a plate. Do you want coffee?”

“Yes please,” Chan says, taken aback by her blunt but warm welcome, lurching into motion and crossing to the cabinet.

Chan makes toast and Maya cooks at the stove, coffeemaker brewing to the side. “Mr. and Mrs. Lee are already gone,” Maya tells him without him even asking. “Felix will get up anywhere between seven and noon. The girls will be the same. Generally, as long as you’re polite and you don’t get… underfoot, you’ll find your time here to be quite pleasant.”

Chan registers that she’s offering him some valuable advice. “I’ll keep it in mind, thank you,” he says.

Maya looks him over out of the corner of her eye. “You seem like a nice young man, though,” she says. “I doubt you’ll have a problem.”

“Have there been… problems before?” Chan ventures.

Maya is quiet for a moment, but eventually she responds. “Yes, we’ve had a few pool boys in the past. Of course, some simply moved away, but.. we had a few get in trouble for making passes at the girls.” She turns and Chan sees she’s done cooking—she’s holding two perfect plates of bacon and eggs. “Not just the pool boys, of course, other staff members have been fired for similar reasons. It’s usually that, or stealing.” She offers Chan one of the plates.

“Thank you,” he says. “And thank you for explaining. I am just here to earn some money while I’m in school, though, so you’re right, I doubt I’ll have a problem.” That is, unless Felix takes over my brain, he adds silently.

The leathery skin of Maya��s cheeks wrinkles as the corners of her mouth tug up in a small smile. “Good.” She nods towards the door. “Go on, find a spot at the island. Take your toast. I’ll bring the coffee and jam.”

Chan’s just finishing up his food when Felix stumbles in, head in his hands. He’s barefaced and puffy-eyed and wrapped in a simple silk robe. It hangs loose at the chest. Chan snaps his gaze back to his plate before he can get caught looking. Felix slumps into a seat at the far end of the island.

Maya has already finished eating, and was in the kitchen cleaning up, but she comes in now with a mug of coffee and a small tablet of medicine in the other hand, tsking at him softly.

“Thank you,” Felix grumbles quietly. “I haven’t thrown up yet, but if I do, I’ll clean it myself.”

Maya hums her approval. “Just toast for now?”

“Yes please,” Felix says.

Chan listens to this exchange attentively. This Felix is entirely different from the one he met yesterday. He kind of expected him to snap at Maya, to be antagonistic the way he was before, but instead he’s small and quiet and contrite. Maybe Chan misread him. Or maybe his hangover is just that awful.

Felix downs the pill Maya brought him with a soft groan. There’s a heavy silence save for the soft scraping of Chan’s fork against his plate. And then—

“No, I don’t usually drink like that,” Felix says flatly, and Chan nearly jumps out of his skin.

“I didn’t say you did,” he replies quietly once he recovers.

“You were thinking it,” Felix says. “Last night. And yes, I’m usually polite to our staff. I’m spoiled, but I’m not a monster.”

The Felix Chan met yesterday had been a bit of a monster, rude and arrogant and selfish, so Chan doesn’t know if he buys that, but he just puts his utensils down and looks up at Felix, holding his gaze. “Okay,” he says.

“You’re not smarter than me, okay?” He says it with such finality.

Chan’s not exactly sure what he means. “Uh, okay,” he agrees anyway, taking his final bite of toast and washing it down with the last of his coffee.

Felix nods and goes back to being miserable into his palms. Chan almost feels bad for him—almost.

He brings his dishes back to the kitchen, protesting weakly when Maya takes them.

“Your job isn’t in here,” she says. “Go on, tend to the pool before it gets too hot.”

“Thank you,” Chan says, and slips out the front entrance so he doesn’t have to confront Felix again, heading back to his room for some sunblock and a bottle of water.

Though it’s only a bit past seven by the time Chan makes it outside, it’s already punishingly hot. He tries to make quick work of it, skimming off dead leaves and dead bugs and other unidentifiable debris. He tests the water, tests the filters, tests the temp, and clears the pool deck of debris as well. He checks the stock of towels, water bottles, liquor and ice and mixers behind the bar on the far end of the patio. By the time the pool and deck look spotless, it’s nearing eleven and Chan is drenched in sweat. He retreats to the shade, treating himself to a bottle of water.

He doesn’t see Felix approach, but suddenly the boy is standing over him, dressed in nothing but short black swim trunks, sunglasses pushed back over his hair.

“Come float with me,” he says. “You’re gonna die of heatstroke if you don’t.”

Chan grunts, taking another swig of water. “I'm supposed to be working.”

“Well, are you?” Felix asks. “Working? The pool’s already clean. Jerry isn’t here today, so there’s no gardening to do. Your only responsibility now is keeping me company.”

Chan’s still not sure how to take this shift in attitude. “I don’t think that was in the job description.”

Felix’s eyes narrow, his eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. “Fine, sit here and melt then, I don’t care.” He turns to go; Chan finds himself wounded somehow by the sourness in his voice.

“Hey, alright, alright,” he says quickly, pushing himself up onto his feet and tugging his tank top off. “You’re right, anyway, I’m melting.”

Felix turns back, and his gaze is bright again. “Good,” he says, and slips into the deep end.

Chan joins him, and has to admit the relief of being in the cool water is almost overwhelming. He paddles out to Felix, tipping onto his back. “Feeling better?” he asks.

“Mmhm,” Felix says. “Toast, coffee, and antiemetics work wonders.”

Chan can’t help but laugh. “Oh, that’s what Maya gave you?”

“What, did you think it was an antidepressant or something?” Felix asks. When Chan hesitates, he groans. “We’re not that stereotypical. Rich family with tortured children. No, we’re just about regular in terms of dysfunction.”

Chan isn’t sure how he’s supposed to respond to this, so he just kind of hums.

“What’s your family like?” Felix asks. He floats into Chan; their shoulders bump and settle against each other. Neither of them move to pull away.

“Ah, I dunno, we’re pretty boring,” Chan says. “Grew up here, actually. Moved back to Korea. I have two younger siblings, a sister and a brother. Hannah’s in secondary school. Lucas is still in primary.”

“And you’re going into music,” Felix says, like he’s reviewing a file.

“Trying to, anyway,” Chan replies.

“I wish I could go into music,” Felix says. “But Abeoji says it’s not sensible. So I’m studying business and communications. He wants me to take over for him.”

Chan can’t conjure up much sympathy. No matter what Felix does, he’ll be doted on and provided for for the rest of his life. He has a path laid out before him; all he has to do is walk it. If he says he wants to walk it but is too tired, his parents would probably conjure up a gold chariot to carry him down it instead. Maybe it’s not what he wants, but it’s secure. Chan wishes he had security.

He feels tiny fingers on his bicep and looks up. Felix is ghosting a hand over the muscle, watching Chan, waiting.

“What?” Chan asks.

“Do your parents know you’re gay?” Felix asks bluntly.

Chan blinks. “Uh, how did you know I’m gay?”

Felix gives him a look. “Please,” he says. “I already told you, you’re not smarter than me.”

“Yes, my parents know I’m gay,” Chan says, sighing. “Why?”

Is Felix moving closer? “How do they feel about knowing?”

“They’re supportive,” Chan says uncertainly. Felix’s hand is still on his arm. His lips have gotten color back into them, pink-red and plush, Cupid’s bow all dramatic corners and enticing. Chan can smell him over the chlorine and sunscreen. Lemons and sugar and something else. He swallows, hoping Felix doesn’t see.

“Lucky you,” Felix says. “How do you feel about knowing it?”

“I’m not emotionally constipated, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Chan says. He can’t stop staring at Felix’s lips. He wants to grab his little wrist. He wants to grab both of them, wrap his arms around Felix’s waist, pin his hands behind his back, and kiss him. And kiss him. And kiss him. “I’m very comfortable with who I am.”

“Lucky you,” Felix repeats. Closer still; his eyes are half-lidded. Chan could count his freckles. He could kiss every one. “Lucky me.”

We had a few get in trouble for making passes at the girls. Felix wouldn’t be any different, Chan knows. Chan would be fired on the spot. He needs an escape, so he blurts out the first thing that pops into his head, wrenching himself from the lust-addled stupor Felix has somehow coaxed him into. “If you don’t usually drink like you did last night, then why did you? Last night?”

It works, at least; Felix pushes away. “I’m hungry,” he says instead of answering, paddling over to the ladder. “Let’s get lunch.”

Chan accepts this, hurrying to follow him.

* * *

The next week passes mostly in this way. Chan gets up early, cleans, spends the midday either lounging or helping one of the other members of the staff. Maya cooks a lot of his meals. Felix comes to bother him on occasion, demands for his time or attention. When Chan accepts, Felix is bright and sunny. His air of general superiority never goes away, but he’s fun to hang out with when he’s not actively trying to get Chan to touch him. When Chan rejects him, too busy with work or too tired to withstand the teasing, Felix’s entire disposition shifts, dour and sulky and often rude. He retreats into himself for the rest of the day, punishing Chan by punishing himself. I guess he’s just used to getting his way, Chan thinks to himself. Not a monster. Just spoiled.

Still, in the back of his mind, Chan remembers the first day. What had Chan done that day to elicit the moodier Felix? Was it something Chan had done at all, or was he simply a convenient target for Felix’s ire? He’s not sure. He’s not sure which option he dislikes more.

The girls arrive that weekend. Chan meets them briefly; Rachael, the eldest, is much like her mother, and will be out most days because she has an internship. Olivia, the youngest, is sweet and funny but spends most of her time chatting on the phone with her boarding school friends. Their parents, at least, had the foresight of putting all of them in separate wings, so there’s very little chatter about the house, even when all three are home. Felix has rooms on the fourth and highest floor of the house, and overlooks the back patio, gardens, and pool. Olivia is in a tower to the east—like, a literal, actual tower; Rachael sleeps on the third floor in the western area of the house, nearer to the elevator and overlooking the front drive. The primary suite takes up a majority of the rest of the third floor, which is about all that Chan knows. He’s only been as high as the second floor once, and it was to fetch something for one of the maids. It’s mostly guest rooms and entertaining space.

Felix’s sisters are friendly, but they generally keep to themselves even when they are at home. Chan imagines they’re skittish around new male hires, and can’t blame him. He wants to tell them they don’t have anything to worry about, but knows it won’t do any good. Still, the idea does give him some dark amusement. Don’t worry about me, girls. It’s your brother I want.

And god, does Chan want. Felix is always in short little skirts and dresses, sometimes with stockings and other ridiculous little accessories, and is usually made up too, with sparkly eyeshadow and dark eyeliner and smudged mascara and sticky lip gloss on his pouty lips. He always ends up in Chan’s space whenever he can get away with it, coming up to him when he’s working on the pool or settling in the grass beside him in the garden or perching on a running washer while Chan works on a new load of laundry. He leans in close until Chan’s head is filled with the smell of him, taunting Chan, daring him to take.

Chan maintains his composure as best as he can over the next couple weeks, better than the first day at the pool now that he knows what he’s in for. Felix asks him about himself, and Chan answers delicately. He doesn’t pry into Felix’s personal life. He tells himself it’s because he’s being professional, or that he doesn’t want to give off the impression that he’s interested in Felix, which he fears will only make him bolder. But really, he knows it’s because he’s afraid that he’ll like what he finds, dragging him impossibly deeper into this weird psychosexual vortex, or else that he won’t like what he finds, but will nonetheless be enraptured by Felix’s terrible beauty.

He even jerks off to the thought of Felix despite his guilt, hoping it might cure him of his desire, but it does little to curb his impulses. Instead, it fills his dreams with Felix. Tortured, awake and asleep.

It’s not like Felix is helping in the slightest. If it were just in Chan’s head, he could probably bear it, stuff it away in some dark corner of his mind and soldier on. But the problem is, Felix seems to be determined to make Chan crack. He’s not even sure if Felix actually wants him, or just loves to toy with him. Either way, it’s kind of working. Chan is a man possessed.

Some days are like the first day, though. It doesn’t happen often, but Felix will disappear, and when he returns, it’s with alcohol in hand and an invisible veil over his features. He gets drunk and doesn’t speak to Chan or anybody else and stumbles off to bed. The next morning he pays the price for his indulgence, miserable but resigned. It’s almost like he’s punishing himself, but Chan doesn’t know for what. Still, by noon, he’s his regular self again, probing and selfish and dripping sweet poison that makes Chan nearly lose all sense.

Chan does all he can to cling to his sanity. Keep your hands to yourself so you’re not tempted, he tells himself one hot morning as he pours himself a lemonade behind the bar, chores finally done. No matter what he does. You can’t control him, but you can control yourself.

And, of course, Felix appears. He’s in a little skort-bottomed bikini, baby pink with cherries smattering the surface of the fabric and heart-shaped pink sunglasses slung over the string in-between to the two cups on his chest. Chan feels a heat rise to his cheeks immediately, and fixes his gaze determinedly on Felix’s face instead.

“Can you mix drinks?” Felix asks, hopping up onto one of the barstools. “You used to bartend, right?”

“Uh, yes,” Chan says.

“Make me a Sex on the Beach,” Felix says, and Chan tries not to choke on his next sip of lemonade.

“D’you even know what’s in one of those, or are you just saying it because you like the name?” he asks with raised eyebrows, suppressing a cough.

“Vodka, peach schnapps, orange juice, and cranberry juice,” Felix rattles off immediately. “And sometimes those cherries or an orange slice. But I like mine with more peach schnapps and less vodka.”

Chan sighs at him. “I can’t just feed you alcohol. I don’t care if you’re old enough, I shouldn’t enable you. Your parents will kill me if you swan into dinner drunk on cocktails I made you.”

“I won’t get drunk off one cocktail,” Felix says. “Especially if you make it with less vodka and more schnapps.” When Chan hesitates, Felix wheedles, “Fine, no vodka at all. I just wanted to watch you make it, really. That’s all.”

“What?” Chan blinks at him stupidly. “Why?”

“You have nice arms,” Felix replies, like it’s simple. “I like strong guys, you know.”

“Well, I’m definitely not doing it now,” Chan mutters.

“Chan.”

“Felix.”

“Please?” Felix makes his eyes big and sad and pitiful.

“Will you lay off if I do?” Chan barters.

“Pinky-swear,” Felix says, offering his pinky.

Chan links his reluctantly. “Okay, fine. Just one, though. No vodka, just schnapps.”

Felix keeps to his word. He doesn’t say anything else suggestive or flirty. What he does instead, Chan thinks as he lifts a bottle to measure and watches Felixfollow the line of his arm, is much worse. His eyes darken, his tongue poking out to swipe over his gloss-covered lips. He drags his gaze over Chan’s body, hiding nothing about it, about where he’s staring and why. Chan is embarrassed by the attention, of course, but mostly it all just goes straight to his dick. Felix is practically begging Chan to fuck him, and Chan wishes more than anything he didn’t have to say no.

He finishes making the drink, dropping a couple of maraschino cherries in, and even finds a pink umbrella to garnish it along with a matching straw.

“Thank you.” Felix’s voice is even deeper and huskier than usual. Chan clenches his fist around the neck of the schnapps bottle as he moves to put it away. “Ooh, this is really good. You must’ve been popular as a bartender.”

“I got good tips.” He cleans off the counter and dries his hands. “I’m, uh, gonna go in and see if Maya needs anything from me. Leave the glass in the sink when you’re done. I’ll clean it later.” He starts walking before he even gets an answer.

But Felix’s voice floats over to him on the wind, sweet poison just like the drink in his hand. “See you later, Chan.”

Chan doesn’t go see if Maya needs anything. He heads straight to his room, locks the door behind him, and turns the shower on. He strips quickly, throwing his clothes on the floor and steps in under the cold water, chest heaving.

He comes with his forehead pressed to the cool tile, icy water pounding against his back and fist wrapped around his cock. It barely keeps the heat beneath his skin at a simmer.

When he goes back to the pool, Felix is nowhere to be found. The glass is clean and drying on the rack.

* * *

It’s on a particularly hot day that the last of Chan’s resolve melts into nothing.

Felix’s parents are both out, his father at work and his mother at some kind of social gathering; his sisters are gone, too—Rachael at her internship and Olivia at a friend’s house, and most of the staff have already taken leave for the holidays—Christmas is less than a week away. So it’s just Chan and Maya, and Felix.

Felix came down to breakfast that morning in something rather modest, actually—a light, flowy skirt that fluttered a few inches above his knees, and a plain t-shirt tucked into the waistband. Simple and demure. Chan had let it lull him to a false sense of security, thinking, it’s too hot today for mischief anyway, right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. Chan’s checking one of the filters in the shallow end of the pool, water lapping at his thighs, when Felix pokes his head out the back door. “Chan,” he calls.

“Yes?” Chan looks up, rinsing his hands off in the pool water.

“Can you help me? The zipper on my skirt is stuck, and I can’t twist it around to the front to see what’s wrong.”

Chan knows it’s dangerous. His promise to himself from the week before echoes faintly in his head. Keep your hands to yourself so you’re not tempted. But Felix looks genuinely upset. And it’s not like there’s anyone else to help him—Maya’s probably busy with the laundry, or working on lunch since their private chef is off until Christmas Eve.

It’s just a zipper, Chris, he tells himself. You can handle a fucking zipper. “Sure, lemme just dry off.”

“I’ll be in the bathroom,” Felix replies, disappearing inside again.

Chan grabs a towel and runs it over his legs, just so he doesn’t drip all over the floors, and then chucks it on a nearby pool chair and ducks into the cool relief of the house. He pads across the hall and knocks on the bathroom door.

Felix opens it and Chan slips inside, trying not to stare. Felix is shirtless, wearing just his skirt and a pout. Unlike Chan, he doesn’t try to hide his staring at all; Chan considers only now that he should’ve put a shirt on before coming in, or at least kept the towel as some kind of buffer.

Not that it would’ve done anything, he thinks wearily as he gestures for Felix to turn around so he can look at the zipper. He’s as incorrigible and fickle as they come.

The zipper is, in fact, stuck—Chan has to wrestle with the fabric as delicately as possible, but growing up with a little sister wasn’t for nothing, and eventually he manages to free it without putting a snag in a single thread. He doesn’t unzip it all the way, just far enough that it’ll be easy for Felix to reach. He’s honestly a little bit afraid that Felix is naked under the skirt, and that interaction is the last thing he needs.

“All set,” he says, cringing at the way his voice comes out, hoarse and weak.

He turns to leave, but one of Felix’s tiny hands curls around his wrist, pulling him up short. “Finish unzipping it for me,” he says. “It’s hard for me to reach.”

“Felix.” Chan turns back around. “You can do it yourself.”

“Why don’t you wanna do it for me?” There’s that pout again, the pretty pink lips, glossy and so inviting; the wide, pitiful eyes. Chan almost falls for it, too entranced.

“You know why.” Chan tries to gently pull away, but Felix’s grip is too strong. “Felix,” he repeats. He thinks maybe he’s pleading with him, please, have a little mercy on me.

But Chan isn’t sure Felix knows how to be merciful, at least not in the face of something he wants. “Unzip me,” Felix demands, voice soft and almost petulant. “You said you’d help.”

Just unzip him and run, then, Chan thinks, sighing and moves behind Felix again, shaking his hand until Felix lets him go. He pulls the zipper down all the way and nearly bites his tongue so he doesn’t curse out loud.

He’s cursing a lot in his head, though. Fuck, shit fuck fuck fuck shit, oh fuck. Because Felix isn’t naked under the skirt. It’s worse.

Felix shimmies his hips a little so the skirt falls to the floor. He steps out of the puddle of fabric, then bends at the waist to pick it up. Fucker, Chan thinks. “What? D’you like them?” Felix asks, throwing Chan a glance over his shoulder. “Hyung?”

What a stupid question. Chan tips his head back, forcing himself to stare at the ceiling instead of at Felix’s cute little ass wrapped in a baby blue swimsuit bottom that’s only a few square centimeters of fabric away from being an honest-to-god thong. Felix has them hiked up over his hips, leaving very little to Chan’s imagination. He wants to escape before he sees what the front looks like and abandons all of his feverish promises of goodness right here and now.

“Felix,” Chan says through gritted teeth. “I don’t think your parents would appreciate this behavior. I certainly don’t.”

“You don’t?” Felix’s voice sounds closer, but Chan doesn’t dare look down. “Are you sure about that?”

Chan is absolutely sure about that. His body, however, has other plans. He can feel himself getting hard, and he knows if he doesn’t get out now, Felix will be able to see it through his swim trunks, and he’ll be done for.

He feels fingertips on his waist, soft and warm. “Hyung,” Felix murmurs. “Look at me.”

Chan can’t help it. He crumbles completely at the sound of Felix’s voice, low and sweet and so enticing. He brings his head back to center, eyes focusing on Felix, and his breath catches in his throat as his gaze instantly travels lower. The front of the swim bottoms barely cover him; one wrong move and Chan’s certain Felix’s dick will pop free—which, he reflects, is probably exactly what Felix wanted. He flicks his eyes back up to Felix’s face, and is met with a devious little grin.

“I’m looking,” Chan says. “What else do you want from me?”

“I think you know exactly what I want,” Felix says.

“We can’t,” Chan says. “It’s not—appropriate, you know it’s not.”

“Why, because you’re working for my parents? So what?” Felix says. His hands are still on Chan’s body, trailing up his stomach. “They don’t have to know. It’s not that big of a deal! You’re only a couple years older than me, it’s not like it’s that scandalous. I want it. Don’t you?”

Chan swallows roughly. His skin is hot where Felix is touching him, even though goosebumps have broken out over his back where the A/C is blowing. This is it. Chan’s going to ruin his life for a terrible, pretty boy, and he finds that he doesn’t even care. “I do,” he whispers. He grabs one of Felix’s hands, the one that’s trying to sneak a little too low. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Victory shines through on Felix’s face, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Fucking finally,” he goads.

“Shut up and come here,” Chan says, and leans in and kisses him.

Felix squeezes Chan’s waist with his other hand, gasping into his mouth. Chan takes a step forward, and another, cupping Felix’s jaw with one hand and nearly crushing his fingers in the other, backing him up against the wall. He licks Felix’s lip gloss off his lips, his teeth, his tongue. It tastes like artificial strawberry, gooey and sickly-sweet. He drops Felix’s hand, breaking away from him for just a second so he can take his baseball cap off, so the brim doesn’t get in the way. He throws it over in the direction of Felix’s discarded clothes without looking, and surges forward to kiss Felix again. Felix moans, taking hold of one of Chan’s biceps.

“Fuck,” Chan pants, reaching down and palming Felix’s ass, groaning when Felix hums out a noise of satisfaction. “God, if your parents weren’t gonna kill me before, they’re definitely gonna kill me now.”

Felix giggles. “No, they won’t.”

“I don’t care,” Chan says, dipping his head so he can nip at the sensitive skin of Felix’s neck, kissing over the hollow of his throat. “I’ll tell them it was your fault. You were the one who kept flirting with me, kept riling me up. Always wearing your shortest skirts, always looking for an excuse to touch me.”

“I wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t looked at me like that on the day we met,” Felix shoots back, and Chan flushes in embarrassment. He should’ve been more careful, he shouldn’t have even wanted it in the first place, but—well. It’s far too late now. “You made it so easy. It was too fun, I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re such a brat,” Chan bites out. “Don’t act like it was just for fun. You wanted me to fuck you from the start.”

“So are you going to?” Felix asks. “Fuck me?”

“Well,” Chan says. “We’re gonna need lube. And probably a condom. And we probably shouldn’t be in the bathroom, what if Maya walks by? What if your mum gets home early and comes looking for you?”

“We could go up to my room,” Felix says, but he makes no move to pull away, and neither does Chan. Instead, Felix’s fingers find the waistband of Chan’s shorts. He toys with the fabric. “But I don’t want to wait. I want to come.”

“Already?” Chan asks, like he isn’t just as worked up, like he isn’t hard and aching just centimeters from Felix’s fingertips.

“Touch me and find out,” Felix replies, and Chan doesn’t need to be told twice. He reaches down, ghosts his palm over the bulge in Felix’s obscenely small swim bottoms. Felix whines softly in his ear, so Chan gets bolder, curling his fingers and squeezing just slightly. The noise it pulls out of Felix’s chest is poisonous and wonderful.

Chan tugs the swim bottoms down as Felix lets his fingers slip inside Chan’s pants. A string of precome stretches from the head of Felix’s cock to the fabric before snapping midair. Chan presses his thumb against the slit, looking down to watch a few more beads dribble out over the tip when he pulls away. He collects it with his index fingers, spreading it down the length of Felix’s cock before taking him in his fist. “So messy, Felix,” he murmurs.

Felix fumbles for Chan’s cock, moaning softly. “Your hands are so big,” he whimpers. His hips twitch up into Chan’s palm. “Feels good.”

Though Felix is wet, there’s still too much friction, so Chan releases him for a moment. Felix whines at the loss, but Chan shushes him, spitting into his palm, and then takes him in his fist again, letting his spit mix with the precome, making the glide easy and smooth. Felix stutters over a moan, letting his head tip forward so his forehead is resting on Chan’s chest. He runs his fingers up the length of Chan’s cock, then brings his hand back out to the waistband of Chan’s shorts and tugs them down with a frustrated noise.

Chan moves his hand faster over Felix’s cock, a dark, nasty sort of pleasure blooming in his chest when it makes Felix tremble. He lets out another choked little moan, and Chan shushes him. “Someone could hear you, and we don’t wanna get caught, do we?”

Felix doesn’t listen. “Cha-an,” he slurs, pressing a wet kiss to Chan’s chest as he fumbles with his cock. His little fingers are a bit clumsy, but it doesn’t matter to Chan. Felix is touching him, like he’s been imagining, like he does in Chan’s dreams. He’s not entirely sure this isn’t just another dream, except that it feels so real. He can smell sugar and lemons and Felix. He speeds up his hand, moaning low when Felix nips at his skin.

“I tried, you know,” Chan huffs softly. “You know that, right? I tried not to let this happen. I tried not to want you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Felix says against his skin. “Didn’t work.”

“No it didn’t, did it?” Chan finds it easy to accept. “Look at me, baby.”

Felix straightens, looking up at him. There are stars in his eyes. “What?”

Chan doesn’t reply, just kisses him again. His lips are so soft, mouth so inviting. Chan could kiss him all day, he thinks, running his tongue over the backs of Felix’s teeth. Felix rolls his hips in time with Chan’s hand, stroking Chan at the same pace, letting himself be kissed. The noises he makes against Chan’s lips only make the dark pleasure grow. Felix is ruining him, but at least the destruction is mutual. Chan’s gonna make sure he’s the best fuck Felix will ever have.

Felix pulls away to pant out, “Chan, Chan, oh fuck, so good, daddy, fuck,” and then he’s shooting hot white release onto Chan’s fingers, Chan’s arm, Chan’s stomach. Chan can’t help the low almost-growl that drags itself up his throat as Felix shakes, whimpering sweetly in Chan’s arms.

“Good boy, baby,” Chan murmurs, head spinning from the way Felix sounded, the way he called him daddy. Coming out of any other mouth, it would’ve made Chan cringe, but somehow with Felix it makes his knees weak and his vision blur. “Made such a mess, you gonna clean it up?”

Felix doesn’t say anything, just bends over, still trembling, and presses his tongue to Chan’s abdomen, swiping at his own come until Chan is clean, even his arm and hand. He pulls off Chan’s fingers with a wet pop, blinking up at him.

“Still want me to fuck you?” Chan asks darkly, prying Felix away and tucking himself back into his pants.

“Yes,” Felix whispers, that same trained sultry look back in his eye. He recovers quickly, Chan thinks, almost exasperated.

“Get dressed, then,” Chan says. “If Maya asks, you invited me up to game.”

“Got it,” Felix says pertly, side-stepping Chan to retrieve his skirt, handing Chan his cap while he’s at it.

Chan takes it, but doesn’t put it back on, instead doing his best to smooth his hair in the mirror, waiting while Felix tugs his t-shirt on, too.

“Zip me up?” Felix asks, and Chan is reminded exactly how he got here. It almost makes him laugh.

“Sure.” He pulls the zipper into place, bending to kiss the top of Felix’s spine when he’s done. “Ready?”

“Mm,” Felix says. “Let’s take the elevator, Maya probably won’t see us.”

He’s right. They get to the elevator without interruption and spend the ride from the basement to the fourth floor in complete silence. Chan had almost forgotten there was an elevator in the building, since most of his time was spent in the basement level or on the first floor. He’s pretty sure he’s never been in it. But it moves quickly, and soon Felix is leading them out and down a hall Chan has never stepped foot in.

Felix’s room is like the rest of the house. It’s clean, proper, and stately. The only things that betray its inhabitant’s age are the figurines lining one of the bookshelves. Chan closes the door behind him, flicking the lock, and doesn’t have the chance to take in any more of his surroundings. Felix is on him in an instant, fingers at the waistband of his shorts again, needy and demanding.

“C’mon,” he says, muffled by Chan’s skin. “You said you’d fuck me, so fuck me.”

Chan picks him up with ease, smiling to himself when Felix squeals his surprise, and walks them over to Felix’s bed. He deposits Felix in the sheets, hiking his shirt up and bending over him to suck a hickey into his inner thigh.

“Chan,” Felix moans, sweet and low and perfect. “Daddy.” Chan bites, and Felix whines. “Oh, fuck, you’re so mean.” He’s breathless when he says it, delight pitching in his voice. His fingers find Chan’s hair, tangle in the curls. “Will you fuck me like that? Mean?”

Chan looks up, finds Felix’s glassy eyes. “Is that what you want, baby?” Felix nods, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Want me to treat you rough? Want me to pound your cute little ass into the mattress?” He doesn’t know how the words have snuck their way into his mouth—dirty and depraved. But it doesn’t matter, because Felix rolls his eyes back in his head, nodding emphatically.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please. It’s all I’ve wanted this whole time. ‘S why I’ve been so annoying.”

“At least you’re self-aware,” Chan mutters, crawling up the bed so he can kiss him.

Felix wraps his little legs around Chan’s waist, kissing him hungrily, trying to pull Chan closer. “Chan,” he murmurs against Chan’s lips between kisses. “Daddy, need you, please.”

“Where’s your lube, baby?” Chan asks. “Condom, too.”

Felix rolls over with a groan, yanking open the drawer of his bedside table and rummaging around inside. Chan takes the opportunity to unzip Felix’s skirt again, though he doesn’t tug it down yet. It’ll be easier when Felix is on his back.

Felix reemerges from the drawer with lube and a condom held victorious in a tight fist. He rolls back over, lifting his hips as he hands over the goods so he can tug his skirt off. Chan helps him, dropping it on the floor off the side of the bed. Next goes Felix’s shirt, shucked easily up over his head and leaving him in just his microscopic swim bottoms.

Chan does the only logical thing. He bends down and undoes the bows on Felix’s hips with his teeth. Felix gasps softly; it turns into a breathy moan when Chan turns his head and kisses the tip of his cock.

He kind of wants to blow Felix, but Felix asked to be fucked, and Chan has basically accepted that he’s never going to tell Felix no ever again, so he sits back on his heels and pumps out some lube.

“Showered earlier,” Felix supplies. “I’m all clean.”

Chan wasn’t gonna ask, honestly, was just gonna go for it, but he appreciates it. He raises his eyebrows as he reaches down to spread his cheeks. “You were that confident it would work?”

Felix shakes his head. He looks so little, drowning in the crumpled duvet. Chan thinks his mouth is watering. “I was hopeful,” he says. “I’ve done it every day, hoping.”

“Jesus, baby,” Chan mutters, easing his first finger in and rubbing something patternless into the skin over Felix’s hip bone when he whimpers. “Just for me?”

“Mm,” Felix confirms. “Knew you’d come around eventually. Just wasn’t sure when.”

Chan’s got his finger in up to the last knuckle already. “You’re kinda loose, baby. Did you prep yourself already?”

“A little,” Felix admits coyly. “But you’re bigger than I thought.” A soft giggle rises up. “You’ll have to go up to four fingers for sure. I only did three of mine, and mine are tiny.” He holds up his hand to show, as if Chan hadn’t already catalogued this fact on day one, and hadn’t been obsessing over it ever since.

“Jesus,” Chan repeats. “You do that every day, too?”

“Not every—every day.” Felix’s breath hitches when Chan’s second knuckle slips back out and catches on his rim. “Usually just one finger, maybe two.”

It’s still incredibly hot. “Sure you were doing it for me, or do you just like having your hole played with?” Chan pushes two fingers in this time. It’s still not much of a stretch.

Felix moans, showy and sweet. “Both,” he says. “Your fingers feel better than mine, though.” Chan is working up a slow rhythm. “You get deeper. I bet your cock will feel best.”

“Have you been thinking about it?” Chan asks, curling his fingers a little, searching around for Felix’s prostate. “Imagining my cock?”

Felix’s eyelids flutter. “It’s almost all I think about when I’m with you,” he admits, low voice impossibly lower. “Oh, fuck!” He arches up off the bed. Chan’s found it.

“Yeah?” Chan teases, hoping his voice comes out steady so Felix doesn’t have proof of just how much this is turning him on. “Right there?” He does it again, petting over the spot, and Felix twitches weakly, letting out another incoherent moan.

“Mm, daddy, stop, hurts,” Felix whines with absolutely no conviction in his voice.

Still, Chan avoids it for the next couple thrusts. “Can’t take it?” he goads. “But what happens when it’s my cock? I’m gonna fill you up, baby, you’re so tight, I won’t be able to avoid it.”

“I’ll fall apart,” Felix says, though not piteously. It’s more a statement of fact. “I don’t wanna fall apart yet.”

That’s fair, Chan supposes. He doesn’t respond, just fits his ring finger in alongside the first two. He meets some resistance, but Chan has done a good job so far, and Felix opens easily, so it’s not long before he’s pumping three fingers in and out of Felix like it’s nothing.

“Ch-Chan,” Felix stutters. “Hurry up, I can take it.”

Chan kisses the inside of his knee. “No, I don’t know how you’d explain the limp to your mother.”

“She wouldn’t know it’s you I’m fucking,” Felix points out.

“Still,” Chan says.

“She already thinks I’m a whore, it doesn’t matter,” Felix mumbles, so swift and quiet Chan almost misses it.

“What?” He pauses mid-stroke.

“Nothing,” Felix says. “It doesn’t matter is all. I said hurry up.”

You’re fucking him, you’re not his psychiatrist, Chan thinks to himself as he resumes fingering him. It’s not your job to try and fix his life. Even if you could, he’d hate you for it.

They brush past the moment quickly, drowning it with the wet noises from between Felix’s legs and Felix’s sweet moans. Chan murmurs praise as he adds in his pinky—doing so good, baby, almost there, look so pretty, so patient for me—and Felix responds beautifully, fucking himself back down on Chan’s fingers and twisting in the sheets. A fine layer of sweat has broken out across his skin, making him glisten in the early afternoon light. By the time Chan finally pulls away, satisfied that he won’t tear anything when he fucks him, Felix’s cock is already hard again, red and leaking against his stomach.

Chan rolls the condom on, spreading a little more lube over the length, watching Felix catch his breath. “Ready?”

“Chan, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll never forgive you,” Felix replies, and Chan laughs. He realizes it’s the first time he’s laughed in a while, the misery from keeping his desire tamped down and hidden for weeks too heavy for joy. But now it doesn’t matter anymore, and he’s laughing again. He lines himself up with Felix’s puckered entrance, pink and red and perfect.

“Well, we can’t have that,” he says, and pushes in.

Felix is perfect. Chan knew this, but still—it was only imagination that had guided him all this time, because Chan’s never known anyone as perfect as this. The tight heat around him makes him shake. Felix’s eyes cross first, and then roll back completely as he lets out a moan when Chan finally bottoms out. Chan tips over Felix’s body, breathing out soft moans and pressing reverent kisses to his chest and stomach.

“So full,” Felix rasps softly. His hands are in Chan’s hair again, combing it off his forehead. “Oh, fuck, Chan, feels so good.”

“Perfect, baby, you’re perfect,” Chan manages. He doesn’t know what else there is to say. “Take me so well, it’s like we were made for each other.”

Felix refocuses his eyes. Chan watches his slow blinking. “Could just stay like this,” he says. “Till my parents get home.”

This makes Chan’s dick twitch; Felix feels it and giggles. “Thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Chan counters. “Mean.”

Felix sighs dramatically. “I want that, too.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” Chan says, drawing his hips back and pushing in again.

“Mm, or tonight,” Felix says. “After everyone’s gone to bed. You won’t be able to fuck me hard then ‘cause we’ll have to keep quiet. You could just put it in and we could cuddle like that.”

Chan groans, imagining it, their hushed voices in the dark, hoping no one hears them, biting back moans as Chan pushes in and fills Felix up. Huddling under the covers, chest to back, Chan’s arms wrapped around Felix’s lithe body. “Fuck, baby, you’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

Felix nods. “I want you,” he says plaintively, like that explains it. Maybe it does, except Chan’s been wanted before, and it wasn’t like this. This is something else, something deeper, more primal. He knows because he feels it in himself, too.

“What do you want, baby?” Chan asks. He wants to know the ways Felix has been picturing him, wants to know if it’s the same as the ways he’s been picturing Felix. He thinks he’ll agree to anything Felix asks.

“I-I,” Felix stutters, hesitant, but Chan recognizes it as fake. The words are just waiting to trip off Felix’s tongue. “I want you to fuck me and make me come over and over,” he begins. “I want it rough and fast. I wanna come so hard I almost pass out.” He’s picking up steam, talking faster. “ I want it everywhere. I want you to fuck me in the shower and bend me over my desk and push me up against the mirror.” He’s panting now, but he keeps going. “I want to ride your thigh in the pool, I want to choke on your cock when you’re eating breakfast. I’ll come find you in the garden, too, and I won’t be wearing any panties so you can finger me under my skirt.” He gives Chan a wide-eyed, innocent look when he says it, but Chan sees the clear intent behind the facade. He’s trying to rile Chan up, but he’s also dead fucking serious. “I can take it anywhere, any time, I want it like that. Doesn’t matter if I’m busy or drunk or asleep, I like it. I’ll like it if it’s you.”

“Lix,” Chan groans. “That’s so dirty.”

“Want you to take advantage of me, daddy,” Felix pleads, blinking up at him, his beautiful eyes huge. “I’ll only wear my tiniest underwear from now on, and I’ll finger myself open every morning so it’s easy. I’ll carry condoms in my bra, so you’ll know where to find them. Will you do it?”

“All of it?” Chan licks kisses up Felix’s neck. “We’re gonna get caught, baby.”

“Only when it’s safe,” Felix amends. “Can’t have them taking you away from me, who’d fuck me then?”

“Okay, only when it’s safe,” Chan agrees, because of course he wants it, too.

“Good,” Felix says. “Now fuck me harder, I wanna feel it.”

A strange sort of noise rumbles out of Chan’s chest. It’s something close to displeasure, he’s pretty sure, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it. He pushes himself up off Felix’s body and grabs him by the backs of his knees. He pushes him down into the bed that way, folding him at the hips until Felix’s knees are almost at his ears. “So flexible, baby,” he murmurs. Felix lets out a satisfied sigh, which hiccups into a moan when Chan thrusts into him. His cock bobs in midair from the force of it, dripping precome on Felix’s chest. “That how you wanted it?” He adjusts to the new angle quickly, picking up the pace again.

Felix is breathless when he responds. “Yes, just like that, yes.”

Felix is spread so wide like this, his body curled over itself to accommodate Chan. Chan digs his fingers into the skin of Felix’s thighs, hard enough to bruise. Felix can always wear stockings to cover them up, and Chan has a feeling he’ll like having the reminder. He slams his hips forward, rough just like Felix asked, fast and ruthless. All Chan’s hours in the gym are finally paying off, and he forces down delirious laughter at the thought.

“Look so pretty like this,” Chan grits out. “Should’ve kept your skirt on, babygirl, they always make your waist look so nice.” Felix lets out a whimper at the word babygirl, and Chan zeroes in on that immediately. “You like that? Babygirl?” Felix nods fiercely; Chan realizes tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes, his cute nose reddening. Chan leans close. It’s a little difficult, with all the body in the way, but he manages, kissing the hollow of Felix’s cheek, then trailing down to his jaw. “Why the tears?” he murmurs into Felix’s skin.

His voice vibrates in Chan’s skull. “Feels so good,” Felix replies. “Just—overwhelmed, can’t help it. Good tears, don’t fucking stop.”

Chan straightens again, satisfied that Felix is okay, so he doesn’t have to work so hard. “Okay, baby. You need me to stop, though, just say so.” He rocks his hips in deep, making the bed creak. It’s a good thing nobody’s home.

“I won’t ever tell you to stop,” Felix says, and it’s dreamy and almost vacant. He’s staring up at Chan, eyes a little unfocused. A tear rolls down his cheek, leaving a pale grey streak in his skin from his mascara. He snakes a hand between his torso and his thigh and wraps it around his cock, stroking slowly, almost absently. His eyes never leave Chan’s face, even when Chan thrusts hard and deep and makes him cry out. “D-daddy, hn, gonna make me—gonna make me come—ah, oh fuck.” The rest is unintelligible, staccato moans, and then Felix’s whole body convulses. He clenches down on Chan, making it almost impossible for him to move; his pretty face contorts into a twisted expression of bliss, and his legs tremble. He comes with a string of soft curses, so hard some of it shoots past his chest and hits his face, coating his lips and spattering across his cheeks, a few droplets even sticking in his eyelashes.

Felix releases his cock, which still dribbles out a few beads of come with Chan’s every thrust, arms going limp at his sides and head lolling back.

“Fuck, Lix,” Chan grunts, movements shallow despite the urge to start pounding him again, kind of worried he’ll fall apart. “Sound so gorgeous when you come.”

Felix is slowly licking the come off his lips while he cleans his eyelashes with the hand he wasn’t using to touch himself, his chest heaving. “I wish,” he says softly, so faint Chan barely hears it, “that I was flexible enough to suck my own cock.”

Unbidden, the image of Felix curled tight over himself, his own cock stuffed in his mouth, hole gaping and spread, manifests in Chan’s mind. “Oh, god,” he gasps, and before he realizes it, he’s coming, too, buried deep inside Felix, knuckles white where he’s still holding his legs.

Chan hangs his head, panting and disoriented, as he comes down. Presently, he unlocks his fingers and releases Felix’s legs; they slide down on either side of him, whispering soft against the duvet cover. He makes no move to pull out. He’s not sure he can move at all.

After a while, he looks up, and sees that Felix has managed to clean off his face. He shakes his head, groaning, and sits back on his heels, bending over Felix’s body, running his hands down his sides, and presses wordless kisses to his ribs and stomach, slow and lazy.

“Good?” Felix whispers.

Chan looks up at him. “So good,” he replies. “Better than I imagined. Not sure I should say that, since it’ll just encourage you, but it’s true.”

Felix giggles brightly. “I won’t be nearly so bad now that I know you’ll give me what I want,” he says, tipping his head to the side.

“I have a hard time believing that,” Chan replies, finally pulling out. He gingerly removes the condom and ties it off, crawling up the bed so he can reach the waste basket next to Felix’s bedside table. He grabs a tissue while he’s at it, and rolls onto his side, towards Felix. “C’mere,” he coaxes softly. “Let me clean you up.”

“Oh,” Felix says, like he’d forgotten entirely about the mess on his chest. He turns to Chan, reaching out and laying a hand on his bicep.

Chan swipes his drying come away, leaning it to kiss away the rest, tugging Felix close to him until they’re lying chest to chest, legs slotted together. He looks up. “All done,” he says softly.

Felix leans in and kisses his forehead. The gesture is oddly sweet. “You really went for it,” he says. “I was impressed. I thought you’d need more prodding.”

“You’ve been quite frustrating,” Chan points out, keeping any trace of venom out of his tone. He’s not angry about it anymore. “I guess that was all the prodding I needed.”

“Mm, I’ll keep it in mind,” Felix says.

“Please don’t,” Chan mutters, and Felix giggles again.

“Out of curiosity,” he says. “Which outfits did you like best?”

“What?”

“What do you like to see me in?” Felix asks evenly. “It’s just you around. I can dress just for you.”

“Oh,” Chan says weakly. “I like the short skirts. And the stockings. You have—” He shifts his hand lower and squeezes. “—the best thighs ever, I like when you show them off.” Felix hums, clearly pleased. “But seriously, you could wear anything, and I’d want to fuck you. So don’t worry about me.”

Felix laughs again, full-bellied and mischievous. “Oh, Chan,” he sighs. “And here I thought my Christmas break was going to be boring.”

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measuringbliss · 2 months ago

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Spider-Man Read-Through 082 Secrets, Confessions and Endings (ASM 249-251, SM&PP 01)

MASTERPOST

So...

More importantly PETER IS IN MINI SHORTS. I REPEAT: PETER IS IN MINI SHORTS.

#249 starts with a lady objectifying Peter to my delight, and... uh...

Oh, the 80s are HERE!

Those guys on the right are definitely ogling at him.

The "animal" shirt was given to him by a "grad-student buddy as a gag". Probably Steve Hopkins.

Pete's so funny.

It's the 80s alright!

So in that very heterosexual setting, Peter suddenly feels danger.

Way to be dramatic!

While Peter's having fun, Jameson's being blackmailed for his involvement in the Scorpion shebang. Then Harry gets a special delivery and proceeds to ride his bike away. Peter finds him quickly thanks to their gay mental special bond. Turns out Harry's being blackmailed too! The letter says that his father was the Green Goblin. Oops.

Peter reminisces about that.

That is NOT what Gwen was wearing that "night".

Anyway, Peter says he's going to help Harry. First step: meeting the blackmailer!

Boyfriends!

At the club, Peter expects the Hobgoblin but sees the Kingpin instead. Some members enter another room, including Jameson and one Mr. Kingsley... Intcheresting! Presumably, they're all blackmailed by the same individual.

By the way, I'm glad to see Peter and Harry team up. I missed that. To say that it pretty much never happened.

While Harry gets to go to the meeting, Peter changes into his costume. Everyone suspects Harry, but then the Hobgoblin appears.

Hmm. HMM.

He basically asks for money, and Spidey is surprised that his Spider-Sense doesn't activate when he's damn near the Hobgoblin.

HMMMMMM.

Jameson's not happy about that, and neither is Harry.

AH-HA! HMM-HMM. *nods*

INTERESTING THAT YOU'D SAY THAT.

But then Spidey's Sense activates and the Goblin does get in the room through the window. Hm!

While Spidey and the Goblin are fighting, Fisk looks at them, analyzing.

We're doing a lot of callbacks recently. Not that I mind.

The Hobgoblin's about to strike down Spidey when the Kingpin interrupts him, and, as the Goblin flees, throws Spidey's tracer at him. I actually gasped. Good twist! The Kingpin gets more compelling each appearance, hell yeah.

The Kingpin's motivation is simple: he's afraid that the Goblin might interfere with his operations. Makes sense.

However, Spidey can't use his tracer without his Spider-Sense...!

In the letters, people suggest Flash or Ned as to the Hobgoblin's identity. Interesting...

It kind of was, yeah. Also neat picture.

ASM #250 has a neat change! I like it.

Peter quickly changes back before Harry starts to get suspicious.

Great panel.

You beautiful man.

At a cafe, Harry tells Peter that the Hobgoblin seemed to know the club well-enough to be a member.

The Hobgoblin notices Spidey's tracer, but he knows that it's useless now. He also gently confirms to us that Norman's diary stopped just before he discovered Spidey's identity, but the Hobgoblin's sure interested in that information as well.

We get a great cameo by Peter's landlady, then Spidey tries to interogate the various men who're being blackmailed: Georgie, Kingsley... and the others.

No luck. A visit to Jameson only serves to jerk his Spider-Sense (he thinks back to Liz's party, where it also happened... weird).

Peter remembers that in the past, he also used a signal receiver to track villains.

A LOT of callbacks, as I said. And just as Peter focuses on repairing it, the Hobgoblin analyzes Spidey's tracer.

And Spidey finds the Goblin's lair. Ensues: a fight!

The Hobgoblin eventually accidentally destroys Norman's papers and provokes an explosion. As Jameson tells an employee to warn Robertson, he also...

Maybe he did grow a conscience.

In #251, the Hobgoblin flees in his van. Spidey was barely able to hitch his ride.

In a critical moment, Spidey's sense comes back to him.

Then they get in a nearby pool of water.

Love those perspectives.

The Hobgoblin says that being unmasked would be too much of a disgrace for him... and his family.

Hm. I think they're trying to steer us toward Harry, maybe?

Love the shading on the bubbles.

In the water, Spidey can only find the Hobgoblin's mocking mask...

The next day, following his confession, Jameson steps down from being editor in chief (but he's still a publisher, so...?).

The next day...

Oooh, Peter looking like Cyclops now!

Love those panels but seriously Peter what the heck.

Kiss!!!

I'll be honest, I don't have the faintest idea what this means. It's great to be unspoiled!

From the looks of it, Peter's glasses are for his punched down face. Alright. (It suits him well!)

Anyway, Peter's pinpointed the source of the signal!

...........................................................................................Marcy?

He checks the thing and disappears.

OH. OH!!!!!!!!!!!!

So that was the last of Stern's book, and honestly he was good! He was a good one. Spidey got consistently good again.

(By the way, the other issue of this post is that Skip story. We all know how it goes. Moving on... See you next time for Peter's unmasking in SSM, and then Secret Wars!)

#peter parker #spider-man #hobgoblin #comics #comic books

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mt-musings · 2 years ago

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Bluebell

Chapter 49

After being abruptly transferred to the BAU at what she suspects was Gideon's request, Cassie Boann struggles to find her footing. Shy and solitary by nature, the transition is made all the more difficult when Dr. Spencer Reid seems to take an almost immediate dislike to her. Unfortunately for them both, their respective areas of expertise leave them paired off more often than not. But when Cassie's past literally starts hunting her, Spencer is forced to consider that he might, in fact, not hate her at all.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Spencer Reid x OC

Warnings: Canon typical violence, kidnapping, stalking, drug use, blood, injury, death, PTSD, eventual smut, more tags to be added

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

49. Feel the Silence

“He’s targeting brunettes,” Spencer said as she poured over autopsy reports from the previous two victims.

“There’s an excess of rage in the attacks. In two out of three he’s broken the breastbone. That takes roughly nine-hundred and fifty pounds of pressure,” Cassie replied without looking up.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“He’s targeting brunettes. Doubtless they’ll be a run on the local beauty store.”

“Cass, I’m telling you, you need to be careful, you fit the profile.”

She looked up, biting off her quip that she fit the profile for about fifty-three percent of their victim types. “It’s fine, Spencer, you know I’m careful.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make it any less worrying. He killed the last girl in the ten minutes between shuttles.”

“Well, we better catch him fast then,” she said, turning back to the evidence. Spencer had begun to worry more since finding out about Hadeon, something that should have been endearing, but she found mildly irritating. She knew it wasn’t how he meant it, but it felt like he was questioning her capabilities as an agent, her ability to look after herself, and she’d worked extremely hard and continued to in order to keep in peak condition for the field. There was a reason she kept three guns on her at all times in the field, that she’s kept a knife lodged in her boot since everything had happened in Montana last year.

Nothing had changed since New York, since Frank, except for the fact that he now knew.

It didn’t help either that Gideon was off, had been since returning from bereavement. She didn’t say anything, knew it was perfectly understandable, all things considered, but she couldn’t help but feel if Spencer needed to worry about anyone, it should be Gideon.

She certainly was.

They hadn’t spoken, really, since she’d left his apartment. She’d tried a few times, but he’d always given her short, one word answers or declined her calls. She knew he needed time, knew it would be a while before the extent of the trauma he was working through even properly processed, never mind started to heal.

She wished she could do something to help.

She sighed and shut her files. “I’m going to see what Gideon and Hotch have working. Text me if you think of anything.”

“I’ll go with you.”

She shot him a look. “Spencer, I can walk to the other end of campus. You have interviews to get through with JJ. I’ll see you later.”

She left before he had a chance to argue. It took her ten minutes to cross the campus to where Hotch and Gideon were going over the school’s new security measures with the local detective.

“Have you gone over campus security personnel?” She asked by way of greeting.

“We have the Dean pulling files now, Prentiss and Morgan are conducting preliminary interviews,” Hotch replied.

“Who has access to the safety shuttle schedule?”

“It’s posted on the school’s website and hardcopies went out to staff and students.”

She made a face. That didn’t do much to narrow their pool then, though it was still most likely to be someone within the school community. Her money was still on someone within security—the timing was just too clean.

She glanced at Gideon as he surveyed the scene. He seemed out of it, almost distracted. It was disconcerting—he was always the first to say that the focus always had to be foremost on the case.

“What did you and Reid find out from the coroner?”

“Nothing that we didn’t already have an idea of. No particulates of use, nothing note-worthy as far as weapon, standard Bowie with an inch or so of serrated blade at the base. Spence and JJ are interviewing girls at the east dorm, where the latest victim lived.”

Hotch nodded. Cassie glanced at Gideon as the detective rattled off the plans for the new security camera, only half listening. She followed his gaze, finding nothing but a few gnarled trees. He looked away as if caught.

He avoided looking at her the rest of the day, avoided talking to her unless absolutely necessary—something that made the afternoon particularly difficult, considering she was supposed to help him interrogate their prime suspect. After all, he was a raging misogynist with a special hatred for brunettes—she was just the person to agitate him so Gideon could get him talking.

It didn’t work though, not really. They got about fifteen minutes in before he lawyered up. The way Gideon looked at her on their way out of the room made if feel like it was her fault.

She didn’t speak to Gideon the rest of the night. She didn’t try. She guessed it would only make it worse.

She stopped outside his hotel room on her way back from the vending machine. She knew he was hurting, knew he missed Sarah terribly, felt crushed by the guilt of her death. She wished she had the right thing to say, knew something to make it even a little more bearable.

She balanced a bag of peanut M&Ms on the handle without knocking.

When he’d first pulled her out of the woods in Montana she wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t look at him. Until he’d come back to sit by her bed in the hospital with a bag from the vending machine. He’d sorted through it, filling a paper cup with just the blue ones. It was the first thing she ate in a week.

She doubted he even remembered it.

She turned toward her own door, looking forward to a few hours of fitful sleep. They’d caught the guy, at least. Now their only problem was going to be holding him.

She didn’t hear about the murder-suicide until after the ambulance had shown up. She’d been at the dorm with Spencer and JJ, going over Anna’s room.

She hated that she was glad she hadn’t been with Prentiss and Morgan, hated that she was glad she was spared the ten minutes of futilely trying to staunch the bleeding, of being soaked in the blood of two murderers.

She should have felt worse for the girl, Anna. She knew she should have—she was clearly ill, clearly suffering. It still didn’t change the fact that she’d killed a girl to see what it felt like, to try and get Tubbs to make her his next victim. A girl she’d claimed to like.

A girl who would never grow up and graduate, or start a career, or a family, a girl who’s family would spend the rest of their lives coping with her loss.

She wished she felt bad for Anna. She should, she knew. She was a troubled kid. Still, she only felt disgust.

She pushed it down, trying to ignore it.

She glanced over at the other side of the plane where Gideon sat, pretending to sleep. She knew by the set of his shoulders he was still awake, mind reeling.

“Cass?” Spencer asked softly, diverting her focus.

“Yeah?” she asked, voice equally as quiet, keen not to disturb the rest of the team that was either sleeping or reading.

He didn’t say anything else, just slipped his hand around hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. She squeezed his back.

It was the last shred of normalcy before everything fell apart.

First was the fact that Hotch was suspended for two weeks, the team grounded until he returned. They all knew it was a horseshit call, that Strauss had it out for him, but they couldn’t exactly do anything about it.

Gideon didn’t come in after the case. He didn’t answer her calls, either. He wasn’t at the apartment, or the hotel, and she checked with his friend Dr. Louis in the ornithology department at the Museum of Natural History—he hadn’t heard anything from him since everything had gone down with Frank.

So she called again. She called and called and called and called for days, and each day the dread in the pit of her stomach grew. No one else could get a hold of him either—he’d blown off his and Spencer’s weekly chess game without explanation and Spencer had slept the night in his office waiting for him to show. She knew Spencer didn't want her to know, but it was fairly glaring that he was in the same button up and trousers as the day before.

And now Prentiss a no-call-no-show.

She glanced at him across the table, brows furrowed, cataloguing the shadows under his eyes. He raised a brow and she looked away, towards the newest carnage on the screen.

She swore under her breath as JJ outlined the case, flipping through the coroner’s reports. The rib extraction was particularly brutal, completed antemortem and judging from the wreckage left behind, probably done with some sort of chisel. The marks were inconsistent with those that would have been left by a handsaw, too irregular to be done with a hobby saw.

Humans certainly were creative in the way they mutilated one another.

Her mood only soured further when she stepped on the plane to find Section Chief Strauss already aboard.

Cassie sat next to Spencer, spying on her behind their seats with one of the dental mirrors from her kit.

“You know, from this angle she almost looks human,” JJ said, voice too low to carry.

“That’s a stretch,” Cassie replied, sinking lower in her seat.

“Has anyone talked to Emily yet?” Spencer asked.

“She was gone before I heard the news.”

“Now we’re down two agents and Gideon’s MIA,” Morgan said.

“Doesn’t Strauss ever—“ Spencer began but Cassie elbowed him as she watched her stand and stride towards the group. She tucked the mirror out of sight before Strauss could see.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe it’s protocol to brief everyone before we arrive at the crime scene,” she said. JJ smiled—the warm kind that didn’t even look fake.

“Yes Ma’am.” She listened to JJ run over the case with kid gloves, watching Strauss’s face. She wasn’t a field agent, after all—she was a pencil pusher, her only focus protecting the Bureau’s ass.

In other words, useless.

She watched her physically recoil from just one of the crime scene photos that Morgan dropped on the table, watched her try and play it off as if nothing happened. She met his eyes before he stalked off to the other side of the cabin, before opening her own files and splaying them over the entirety of the table. Spencer gave her a look, but didn’t say anything about it as she started rambling about suspected tool marks.

---

Milwaukee was going just about as well as she could have expected with Hotch, Gideon, and Prentiss gone.

Which was to say, shit.

She hadn’t been able to find anything on the latest body that proved useful until she had a weapon to match the wounds to and the lab, as usual, was backed up with samples from other cases and wouldn’t have any results back for at least two days. Strauss had already managed to insult the lead detective, who’d worked the Dahmer case, who actually knew his stuff, in less that ten minutes of meeting him.

Luckily for them, he had a longer fuse than she did.

She was about one moderate inconvenience away from telling Strauss exactly what she thought of her leadership and field capabilities, that she’d effectively hamstring the team and was too entrenched in her dumb little castle of Bureau regulation that she couldn’t even see that her obstinate rigidity and unwillingness to adapt to their given environment was costing them real, actual, human lives. A consequence she didn’t even have the stomach to look at properly.

Maybe Cassie would have been less likely to want to bite Strauss’s head off at any given moment if it hadn’t been her signature that had come on more than a handful of the denied requests to re-open her parents’ case on the grounds of it being ‘a poor use of resources.’ Maybe it would have been less likely if she hadn’t been the first one to deny the re-testing of evidence when Cassie had first started at the Bureau, that she didn’t consider the massive failings of the Lab division in the 80s and 90s a good enough reason to ‘waste money re-running samples on a case without leads.’

She pushed into the empty conference room, the tang of blood still sharp in her nose, her throat raw from vomiting. It was getting harder to stomach the smell of it, since Sarah, since Rebecca. She’d have to consider the eucalyptus oil she kept in her bag if the bodies kept piling up, going full Silence of the Lambs like she’d advised Spencer to do nearly a year ago when he was struggling with the stench of decomp. She had to do something other than opt to carry around a miniature toothbrush to scrub out her mouth every time she was met with an eviscerated corpse.

She was losing her edge.

She dialed Gideon. It was almost a reflex at this point. She snapped her phone shut at the sound of his voicemail and swore, turning back to the map on the wall. She traced the radiuses Spencer had mapped out from each school to fit the timing of each disposal. Even operating under the smallest of possible radiuses left them with dozens of square miles to cover, with an unsub who’d already begun to observe their patrols and circumvent police presence.

It was still too much to cover. At least before the next woman’s heart was carved from her chest.

“Shouldn’t you be going over the newest body? That is your job, isn’t it, Agent Boann?” Strauss asked sharply as she entered the room. Cassie made a face, glad she was facing the board.

“It’s Dr. Boann,” she replied without turning around.

“That is your job Dr. Boann?”

“With all due respect, Section Chief, I know how to do my job, both theoretically and in practice. In fact, I’m good at it, so I suggest you leave me to it. Preliminary autopsy report is on the table, particulates should be back in 48 hours, which makes them fairly useless to us at the moment.”

She didn’t wait for a reply, instead stalking out of the conference room before she could dig a deeper hole. She spotted Morgan next to the door, no doubt just having listened to the whole exchange.

“You’re going to be the next one on leave if you keep it up,” he said, dropping a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, well, we need an actual Unit Chief to coordinate the search, but instead we’ve got the lion, the witch, and the sheer audacity of that b—“

“Watch it, Miss Morticia. I like having you on the team.”

“I don’t like her,” she said, with more venom than she intended. Morgan raised an eyebrow.

“I noticed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be mean on purpose. I thought she was going to throw up on the jet.”

“She’s a liability and detriment to the investigation, and somebody ought to tell her if she’s to arrogant to see it for herself,” she said, knowing she sounded defensive and probably childish. Still, she was nearly past the point of caring and knew he at least felt similar.

“I’m not saying, you’re wrong, I’m just saying keep your head down and your mouth shut and focus on the case. You wouldn’t be running your mouth off like this if you weren’t on edge because of Gideon.”

“Maybe I’m on edge because we have twelve hours before we find the next woman with her heart ripped out.”

Morgan didn’t contradict her, though he gave he gave he a look that told her he didn’t quite believe her. “Come on, we have about four thousand school records to comb through."

---

Spencer watched Cassie flip her phone over and over in her hands as she watched Emily in the back of the ambulance. It had become a nervous habit the last two weeks, ever since returning from Flagstaff. He’d looked at her call history the other day when she’d been in the shower, just to confirm his suspicions. She’d called Gideon an average of thirteen times a day for the past week. It had been less the week before, only four or five times.

None of them had been answered.

Spencer hadn’t been able to get a hold of him either, going so far as to sleep in his office to wait for Gideon to show for their usual chess match. He’d told JJ not to mention it to the others—he hadn’t told Cassie, hadn’t wanted her to worry even more.

She wouldn’t talk about it with him, brushed it off every time he brought it up—he was fine, he was grieving, no, of course she wasn’t worried. He knew it was a defense, knew she didn’t want to let on just how worried she was. She’d been spending more time at the lab, barely sleeping at his place, taking the first Metro in to Quantico, rather than meeting up and riding in with him as had become their habit. By the time he’d get in she was already working, hair damp from her post-workout shower, her lips pressed into a thin line, the shadows under her eyes growing darker by the day.

The part he hated most was how similar her behavior was shifting to her first few months with the BAU, though there was a ragged edge to her now that hadn’t been there before. He’d seen a hint of it in Chicago, when she’d returned to the precinct after discovering the shoddy CSU work, ready to rip Gordinski a new one. He’d seen it again on the plane with Strauss, how she purposely displayed the most disturbing autopsy images while going off, in detail, about the force and tools it would require to create the wounds, as well as the extent to which the victim would be conscious for it. They were things she usually kept to herself or skated over with just the bare relevant details, but something in the way Strauss had reacted to the first crime scene photo Morgan had tossed her had set her off.

He crossed to lean on the hood of the police car next to her, watching the local PD bustle in and out of the house.

“Prentiss should get an MRI,” she said finally, without looking away. “She took an NSAID earlier for a headache, with coffee, both of which are blood thinners and increase the chance of hemorrhaging.”

“You should tell her that.”

“She’s more likely to listen to you.”

He glanced at her, searching her face for an edge of hurt or bitterness at the statement. There was nothing, as if it were just a statement of fact. He moved his hand over next to hers, close enough that their pinkies barely touched. She gave him a small, sad sort of smile.

She nearly jumped as her phone rang and quickly turned it over to read the caller ID. He watched her shoulders slump as she read ‘Smthsn AnthLab X DrG.’

“Sorry,” she said as she a stood up.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, watching as she stepped away to the back of the car as she answered. He listened to her rattle off a litany of results and incoming remains off the top of her head, chat about a visiting specialist out of the Netherlands arriving next week. He hung back a moment before crossing to the ambulance and relaying what Cassie had told him about the MRI.

“I’m sure I’m fine, Reid, but thanks for checking in.”

“It was Cassie who brought it up, actually. She just, um,” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Prentiss just smiled, furrowing her brows as she found Cassie in the crowd of officers still on the phone, one hand covering her eyes as she ran through something rapid-fire.

“I’m glad you’re not quitting,” he said, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

“Me too,” she replied. “I’m ready to head home, though.”

The plane ride back to Quantico was uneventful. Most everyone slept, except Cassie, who spent the flight glued to her laptop, a fresh set of remains on her screen. Spencer tried to make sense of what, exactly, she was trying to work out as she flipped through the images, but quickly gave up in favor of slouching in his seat and closing his eyes.

He woke just as the plane started its descent, face pressed into Cassie’s shoulder. She was still working, though she leaned her head on his affectionately as she felt him stir.

“I’m going to have to go to the lab tonight, Spence,” she murmured, voice low from lack of sleep. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s going to be late by the time we get back.”

“I know, but there’s a backlog of partials that came in from that nightclub bombing in Tampa and it’s all hands on deck.”

“Can you come over after? I don’t care if it’s late—“

“Spence—“

“I’ve seen you three times in the last two weeks.”

“You see me every day.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s been crazy, and I’m still trying to find a balance,” she said. He knew it was half true. He’d overheard enough conversations between her and Dr. Garvey and Ayesh and the rest to know they were swamped. Still, he knew she was overloading herself to keep busy.

“I know. Just—I don’t care if it’s late, come over?”

She surveyed him a moment before smoothing out his sleep-rumpled hair. “Okay. I’ll try not to be too late, okay?”

“It’s a deal,” he said, giving her a bright smile.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #long reads #slow burn

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romanoffsbish · 3 years ago

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Mama’s Baby 🥵

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Top!Reader x Sub!Natasha

SMUT — 18+ — Sugar baby relationship.

This is a snippet into an upcoming eventual WandaNat x Reader short series 🤪

Natasha's week has been nothing but stressful with finals not too far around the corner. She's nearly finished with her masters degree in Technology, and the stress of moving into the career worlds taking quite the toll on her.

She's also been sexually frustrated for going on about three weeks now, as her girlfriend Wanda's away on a family trip, and you've been utterly consumed by work making you unobtainable. Sure, you check in with her almost daily, providing her with all the support she could dream of, and making sure she's fed; at night, you even listen to her rant about what's stressing her.

———

It's not enough though, she wants you in every sinful way she can dream up. She wants to be in your bed, putting on a show for you, as she takes her skimpy clothes off and reveals the newest lingerie set she'd bought for your enjoyment. She wants to see as your eyes turn all those many shades darker, and feel your hands as they bend her over the nearest piece of furniture to fuck her senseless.

Even though you not so secretly mean the world to her, and she knows the feelings are obviously reciprocated; she kind of misses the earlier days in your guy's agreement, where all she was to you was a means to get off. You'd met each other back when she was still obtaining her bachelors degree, it was her third year and her internship program matched her up with Stark Industries.

Your older—not wiser—brother was in charge of selecting the interns, so it was no shock to you that they were all visibly easy on the eyes. There was no worrying that he'd hire duds, because you partnered with elite schools, full of top of the line students, so trusting him with this one job would suffice.

Natasha was different from the rest—for starters, she didn't come from money like the others clearly did. She was pretty laid back, incredibly intelligent, strikingly beautiful, and most of all she was humble. The galas always seemed to throw her for a loop, so you'd kindly excuse yourself from your boring conversations to take her somewhere quieter. She'd always appreciated your kindness, and would smile that gorgeous smile of hers, practically melting you into nothing every time.

The problem here was, she had a long term girlfriend, and you'd also not been all too interested in settling down. After the fiasco that was your last marriage, you were still a bit jaded to love. Your current arrangement only came about when Wanda had been off on a missionary trip in her home country, that was slotted to last upwards of six months. Natasha started to traipse around your office in clothes that border-lined between business casual, and stripper, you didn't mind all that much, but one day her teasing had gone too far.

"I'd be careful if I were you with all that teasing, don't want me bending you over and ruining that pussy of yours for anyone else now would we... Surely your girlfriend wouldn't like that."

She whined pathetically at your words, and boldly made her way over to straddle your lap, you both groaned when she felt that you were packing, and her movements had caused the strap to deliciously rub against your clit.

"What if I do?" She'd whispered into your ear, then she lightly bit your earlobe and pulled away, smirking at the sight of your lust blown eyes.

"What about Wanda? She seems like such a nice girl, I wouldn't want to hurt her." You'd quietly murmured, not wanting to wreck a relationship, as that would honestly hit too close to home.

Natasha's face softened at your words, and the genuine care you'd shown, but it quickly faded as she'd remembered the incessant arousal pooling in her panties.

"She knows, and she's okay with sharing me, because she knows I'll always come back home to her..." Natasha breathes out, and you took the confession as a green light.

You firmly gripped her hips, and guided her clothed core against the bulge within your pants, and she loudly moaned. You quickly smashed your lips against hers to swallow them, not wanting to alert the office to your doings, as this could very well be the happenings of an HR nightmare.

The grip you had on her was tight, she whined at her inability to grind against you, and you chuckled darkly as you pulled away from her lips.

"Oh, is my baby that desperate? How long has it been since you've been properly taken care of, hmm?" You condescendingly tease the younger woman in your lap, as she stares at you with the softest 'please fuck me' eyes you'd ever seen.

"Answer mommy..." You whisper against her jaw, as you trace your lips down, nibbling lightly.

"Two months..." She whimpers, as her body starts to squirm in anticipation for what she's hopeful to come her way...

"Oh, a pretty thing such as yourself surely could've found someone to take care of the itch. Tell me, why now?"

"I..." She shyly looks away from you, as her face heats up, and you smirk to yourself.

"Tell me baby girl, were you waiting for mommy to take notice?"

Your lips fall to her pulse point, and you suck harshly, wanting nothing more than to mark her up, and her head falls to your shoulder as she tries to stifle her moans.

"I'm waiting..." You say while smiling against her neck.

"Yes... I've wanted you for so long... God, I just, I want you to fuck me mommy.. Please..."

"Well... I've definitely taken notice, as your outfits get shorter by the day, and let me tell you darling... I don't generally appreciate being teased, and distracted from my work..."

She whimpers, fearing the release she'd been hoping for was about to be denied. She could feel as unshed tears made their way to her eye line.

"However, I'm not going to lie and say I haven't been grateful for the show. I've been thoroughly impressed, so much so, that when I go home, I usually pour myself a glass of wine, then pull orgasm after orgasm from myself at just the image of you in my mind."

"Fuck..." Natasha groans out at the confession, having had similar intentions most nights, but she could never get to the end result because she desperately wanted it to be your fingers between her legs.

"Tell me... Do you wanna be mommy's girl?" You breathily whisper against the shell of her ear.

"More than anything." She replies rather quickly, and you reward her with a subtle grinding of your clothed bulge against her clothed core.

"Well, then that can be arranged, for now though, I'm just going to fuck you over my desk like the whore that you are while I also finish these budget reports. Sounds good?"

She vigorously nods, and you stand up while still holding her tightly and Natasha's arousal increases tenfold at your show of strength. She wraps her legs around your waist, then you remove one hand from her body to smoothly clear your desk of nonessential equipment.

You settled her body down on the desk, and stepped back to take in her appearance while putting on a show of removing your clothes for her. Her eyes were consumed by lust, her lips were swollen, and her collarbone had already been beautifully painted with your marks.

Natasha's eyes shamelessly raked over every inch of your body as it became exposed to her, and you felt yourself shying away under her focused gaze.

"Jesus, Y/N, you're stunning.." Natasha relays with a softness to her tone, and you allow the slip up of your name, but you won't be so nice in the future...

"Thank you baby, now, it's your turn."

She wastes no time sliding off your desk, landing onto wobbly legs, and appreciating your gentle hands that reached for her shoulders to stabilize her. She swiftly removed her shirt, then you reached around to unclasp her bra. The moment she nodded, you'd removed it, and lowered your lips to her chest. You took her left nipple into your mouth, tracing your tongue all around, and used your hand to pinch and grope her right breast. Her body arched, pushing more of her breast into your mouth; her moans grew in intensity, and you bit down as a warning, before simply pulling away, much to Natasha's dismay.

"Friday... Activate quiet mode." You husk out.

"Quiet Mode Activated Miss. Stark."

Natasha stared at you with wide eyes, to which you just shrugged and winked her way. You returned to her breasts within an instant, giving the opposite breasts the same treatments, while your other hand trailed down her body. You felt her abs tense as your finger slid passed, and her breath hitched as your fingers lazily stroked over her soaking panties.

"Shit... You're dripping... Tell me baby, what do you want? Mommy has a little bit of time, be as greedy as you want..."

Natasha's whole body felt like it was on fire, and her mind ran wild with all she could imagine you doing. You stared up amusedly as you saw her brain working in overdrive.

"How about you just let mommy decide for now, hmm? I'd really love to taste you, what do you say?"

"Pl-please do mommy.." She stutters out and releases a low groan.

You dropped to your knees, pulling her panties down painfully slow and then subtly placed them in your desk drawer as a souvenir of sorts. Natasha's eyes were transfixed on your movements, and the pressure building in her abdomen became borderline unbearable at the simple action. You inhaled dramatically, reveling in her intoxicating scent, then you tapped her thigh twice in warning before diving in. Your tongue quickly glided up her slit, purposefully avoiding the throbbing bundle of nerves that was begging for just the simplest of touches. Her whines of disapproval served to spur your need to tease, so you continued to slowly lick at her folds, and prod gently at her entrance. Suddenly, you traced your tongue across her clit, and her body jolted, so you then sucked it in between your lips, which caused her upper body to hunch over and for her to release a guttural moan.

Her bodies reactions and taste drove you feral, so you swiftly laid her back on your desk, gripped her thighs to hold her open, then began to lap at her folds at an animalistic pace. Your tongue pushed passed her entrance, swirling avidly, as you continued to thrust it in and out. Her legs were trembling, her breaths were more like short gasps, and after one final prodding at her walls, and press to her clit, her walls clung to your tongue, and she was thrown over the edge of bliss.

After helping her to ride her first orgasm out, you gently remove your head from between your newfound safe space. You rise to find her body shimmering in a thin layer of sweat, and her chest still rising and falling irregularly. She tiredly smirks at you, as she takes in your glistening face, and you smirk right back at her.

"Baby girl, I'm actually mad at you, I can't believe you've been depriving me of such a sweet taste..." You whisper against her lips, and she hungrily pulls you down to close the unnecessary gap between the two of you.

She moans at the transfer of her arousal from your mouth to hers, then she squeals as you manhandle her, spinning her body around and pressing her into the desk.

You kick her legs open, and lift her skirt up until it's bunched up and out of the way.

"Let's get to work shall we?"

You relay, as you immediately pound the strap into her eager cunt, and pull your laptop over while she cries out and adjusts to the size. You slowly start to rock your hips, while going over the reports you'd finished hours ago.

"Baby girl, what do you think? Should I cut a 0 or two off Tony's proposed budget for the month?"

Natasha's completely out of it, mind foggy from her previous release, and at the feeling of the current one building up as your pace continues to pick up.

"Baby girl... Answer mommy, you wouldn't want me to stop now, would you?" You gently threaten, as your hips still for a brief moment and she whines almost instantly.

"Mommy, please, don't stop.. I need you, I need you to fuck me. You make me feel good." She pleads, and you look down to see tears of frustration trail down her face and onto your desk.

You press your front firmly against her back, and place your lips against her ear.

"Then answer mommy when she speaks to you, I told you we'd be working... Not all of us have the luxury of being an intern darling, so you'll need to use that big brain of yours to help me out a little..." You lightly growl into her ears, then lower your lips to suck a hickey onto her shoulder.

As you feel content with the current mark, you swiftly sink your teeth into her skin, and jut your hips forward at the same time, causing her to moan at the mix of pain and pleasure she's being subjected to.

"So, what do you say darling?" You mumble against her skin, as you now move your hips at a painfully slow rate, and continue to move your lips across her back.

"I-I, yes, cut him down." She groans out, as she rocks her hips in an attempt to pick up the pace, not even looking at your screen, simply just giving you the answer she'd assumed you wanted.

"I like the way you think baby..." You reply with a mischievous tone, and then input the new numbers before sending it off, and picking the pace back up.

"Now, let mommy fuck you quickly, wouldn't want the soon to be angry Tony to see you all exposed like this for mommy now would we?" You chuckle out, while placing one hand beside her for support, and dropping the other around her to work on her clit.

Natasha's gasping for air within an instant, as her body's all but consumed with pleasure. The fear of being caught is honestly exhilarating for the redhead, causing her arousal to grow, she'd want nothing more than for the other women in the office to know you're not available. This possessive feeling she has for you—her boss—that's graciously getting her off, is honestly confusing for her. Something about being yours just captivates her, and has her walls fluttering around your strap.

"Are you mommy's good girl??" You grunt into her ear, as you've fallen against her, as your own climax is threateningly near.

"I'm mommy's good girl..." She clumsily mumbles, and you smirk against her skin.

"Then cum with mommy baby girl, because those loud footsteps above us will soon be here..." You murmur, as you suck on the skin beneath her ear, and twist tight, fast circles against her clit.

Her legs tremble, and if not for your body holding her against the desk, you're sure she'd be a pile of mush on the floor. The sounds leaving her mouth are nothing if not incoherent, as she's been reduced to a blubbering mess. With one final pinch to her clit, and thrust of your hips, she releases a pornographic moan and you feel her arousal gush out and drip down the both of your thighs.

You continue to thrust into her, fucking her through her orgasm to extend the pleasure, while you chase your own impending high. Your sweaty forehead is leaning in between her shoulder blades, as your pants cascade across her back, and Natasha shudders at the feeling of your hot breath. Your hips stutter, as the strap hits your engorged clit just right, and sends you into an earth shattering orgasm of your own.

Natasha's mind is reeling, as your moans only prove to further spur her arousal on, and honestly leaves her core aching for more.

"You did so good for mommy..." You pant out against her back, and she whimpers as she feels you removing the strap from her clenching core.

You are gentle as you lift her weak body from the desk and lean her back against your front. Gently turning her around to face you, and smiling widely at her dazed expression.

"Such a good girl." You whisper, as your lips ghost over hers, and she sighs in contentment as your lips meet hers in a gentle kiss.

She whines pathetically as you step away from her, and begin to put your clothing back on.

"What is it baby? Was that not enough for you?" You mockingly question the desperate woman before you, she stares back at you with the most pitiful of gazes, and whimpers.

You approach the redhead with a gentle smile, having already fixed your top half up just right, and grip her hips and pull her flush against you. You smash your lips to hers in a dizzying kiss, then pull back almost instantly, and chuckle as she chases your lips.

"How about this... You show me what that pretty little mouth of yours can do. Pleasure mommy while hiding under her desk, and if you do it just right, I'll take you home tonight and fuck you until you pass out, sound good?" You husk out against her ear, as you place sloppy kisses across her collar bones.

You feel as her head nods vigorously, and you pull back to see the determination in her eyes. You smirk, and push her to her knees, and she shimmies beneath your desk. You settle in your seat before her, and you hear as she groans at the sight of your drenched pussy. She dives right in, and you control the moan that threatens to spill out, as Tony makes his expected grand entrance.

After the memories of your first encounter had replayed over in her mind far too many times, she'd set out on her mission for the day. She's now on her way to your penthouse, wearing a simple sundress, which is covering the blood red, crotchless lingerie set she'd picked up this morning...

Busy or not, you'll make time for her, she'll see to it, as that had always been an agreed upon stipulation...

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3,105 Words

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff pov #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff smut #gxg #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wandanat #black widow

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

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Demigod MC Series: Poseidon

Fishy fishy fishy… I honestly could write 100 more things for Poseidon MC and Levi. I just love the dynamic between an insecure, otaku shut-in and a chill California surfer dead set on becoming his friend.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon

For anyone unaware, Poseidon is also the god of horses. I know it's a weird combo, but I didn't write the mythos.

Lucifer

…..

They came out of the portal….

On a horse….

They brought the mortal down to the Devildom…

On a goddamn horse….

There's a demigod on a live horse brandishing a weapon and doing laps around the Student Council Room…

Congratulations, he already wants to pull his hair out!!

Honestly, it would have been preferable to pluck them out of the sea. At least then they'd just need a towel! What the hell were they going to do with an entire horse!?

And his nightmare didn't stop there. Poseidon is a notoriously mercurial god, prone to bouts of anger and spitefulness for reasons far less grievous than kidnapping his children…

Their apology was swift and (seemingly) effective, though the tide waters around the Devildom did rise by several feet for some time…

As for the MC… uh… Well, they're an energetic one to say the least…

Lucifer hasn't met a more active individual since Mammon. They horseback ride, swim, surf, skateboard, and probably do ten other things - the point is, they Hardly. Keep. Still!

They're also annoyingly easygoing… He can't count the number of times they've told him to, "Just chill out," or, "Hang loose…" What does that even mean??

Between having to order a stable made for their horse and just trying to keep up with them, Lucifer already thinks this mortal has caused him more trouble than they're worth… At least they keep Mammon busy...

Mammon

Upon first meeting them atop their horse, Sunset, his first thought was of course:

"I wonder if I sell that...?"

After that, they nearly fed him to sharks for trying to take their beloved steed on same night. Safe to say, he never touched a hair on its head again…

These two had a rocky start, but their relationship mended fairly quickly. As it turns out, the MC is literally one of those "go with the flow" types. You can say it was water under the bridge soon enough.

Mammon actually thinks the MC is a hell of a lot of fun, even if they're super laid-back. Most of the time, they won’t take his drive for money (or fear of his bills) all that seriously and tell him that he’s worrying too much, but they’ll still lend a hand if its on their way.

He finds their ability to control water pretty cool as well. Levi has it to some extent, but the MC can make a whole-ass whirlpool or use water like a whip!

He once begged them to call up some rare fish for him to sell, but they got all pseudo-philosophical on him about how “trading life for material wealth” is “not cool, dude...”

He also made the mistake of challenging them to a splash fight only once…. They managed to drench the whole family with a single wave….

The only thing that bothers him is their weird insistence on being Levi's "Best Buddy…" Why would someone like them even bother with a shut in??

Is it the water? … Probably water. Levi, that lucky bastard…

Leviathan

Thinks they're a big normie, no scratch that, a HUGE normie! The biggest normie he's ever met!! They skateboard and horseback ride for Devil's sake!!

...But they’re also, undoubtedly, the best friend he could've ever asked for.

To be fair to Levi, their friendship was sort of forced upon him. The MC took one look at him, his aquatic-themed room, and his pet goldfish then declared their new friendship status at that moment.

Unfortunately for him, though, they're energetic, extroverted, and generally have little understanding of personal space… aka, an introvert's worst nightmare…

The next month could accurately be described as the MC doing everything in their power to make their stubborn "senpai" like them.

They would drag him out to the aquarium, beach, or pool; they befriended Henry so he could put in a good word for them; and they'd even bring him little gifts or trinkets they'd find on the ocean floor. Pretty shells and stuff like a cat bringing its master a dead mouse.

After he finally began to accept them as a persistent fixture in his life, he introduced them to gaming and anime and started accepting them little by little...

By the end of their stay, these two were practically inseparable. Not just because they like spending time together, but because they figured out they could have a telepathic link due to Levi being part sea serpent.

No matter how far they are, they can always have a chat! (That no one else can hear so people think they’re just crazy...)

Satan

Satan honestly isn't the MC's biggest fan, he generally finds them too loud and gregarious for his liking. But their horse…?

He never really thought that he'd be a horse man... Yet it didn’t really take long for Satan to adore Sunset, their beautiful golden-maned mare. Apparently she's not their only horse, but by far their favorite traveling companion.

Sunset is a wonderful horse - brave, strong, and well-trained. It only took a few weeks before he was regularly sneaking out to the stables to brush her fur or feed her apples...

After the MC taught him how to ride, that was it. All other forms of transportation were inferior to him now.

Satan would ride Sunset everywhere and he looked damn good doing it! It takes all that fairytale Prince Charming thing he has going on and puts it through the roof.

It's a good thing too, because when I say everywhere, I do mean everywhere. Lucifer had to put seals on the House doors to keep Satan from riding Sunset through the hallways...

Of course, he’ll always let the MC have Sunset back when they need her!... with a little complaining but nothing terrible.

The MC doesn't mind much because Sunset likes him and they know he takes good care of her, but the rest of the House is slightly unnerved at how quickly he went horse crazy… What if they brought a giant crab instead?? No one wants to deal with crab-Satan...

Asmodeus

Their body is just scrumptious. Oh, how he could look at their swimsuit-clad figure all day!! 😩

Between the swimming and the fighting, their form is toned to all hell and he can't get enough of it! Yes baby, yes!! Take those clothes off again!!! He'll help~! 😘

When he's not staring at them “totally respectfully,” then he's inviting them out to pool parties or begging them to take him riding...

There are parts of horseback riding he doesn’t like, the smell and the jostling specifically, but there is a kind of… romance to it, no?

He loves having the chance to snuggle up to the MC as they trot around the Devildom! It's so romantic, like they’re his knight in shining armor! (Or his demigod in a damp swimsuit, either works. 😏)

His Devilgram is just full of selfies of him and MC riding on the back of Sunset or sitting by the edge of the pool or them in the middle of a swim meet…

Yeah his Devilgram is now a one part him and one part MC-Appreciation account.

After the pact he'll eventually cool down some and stop staring at them like a sex-object, but even then he'll be at every swim meet. Don't you worry~

Beelzebub

He actually really likes them! It's great to finally have another athlete in the House. 😊

The MC joined the RAD swim team just as soon the coach was able to convince Diavolo that having the child of a water god wasn't completely cheating...

Since swim and fangol practice ends at about the same time, they walk home together a lot and complain about... sports things... (Forgive me, I don’t know sports. Uhm... Rival teams? Coaches? That one drill everyone hates? Stuff like that.)

Beel also can surf, skate, and snowboard so the two have a healthy competition going. They're about on equal footing so they tie often (except in surfing but Beel doesn't think that should count cause they’re probably cheating).

The only thing that he has to watch out for is Sunset… As in, he has to watch himself around Sunset because he absolutely could eat her on accident…

Look, he doesn't want to and he doesn't even like horse meat that much, but even he has to admit there are times he gets hungry enough to consider it…

Of course, he knows that if he ever did Satan would rip him limb from limb then the MC would drown the rest so he really, really tries to control himself… but still… She’s a very healthy horse...

At least he didn’t try to sell her like Mammon. The MC hung him over a shark tank for that stunt… He’d feel bad, but Mammon kind of had it coming.

Belphegor

The first time they met, the MC smelled like beach water and called him "dude-bro…" He didn't like his prospects.

For a while, he genuinely thought that they had a lump of sand where their brain was. They were just too chill!! Here he was saying that he's being held captive and they were like, "Well that sucks, man… I'll help ya, but I've got practice tomorrow. You can wait, right?"

It's not like he expected them to jump on top of it, but some urgency would have been nice…

When they eventually got around to helping him, he was actually looking forward to choking the life out of them for the extra wait. Unfortunately, they apparently had a horse…

Yeah, Belphie found out just a bit too late that the MC could summon their steed to them whenever they wanted and ended up with Sunset's hooves firmly bucking into his back for his trouble…

What followed was Belphegor running circles around the attic from the weapon-totting MC riding their terrifying murder horse until Lucifer finally intervened....

Thank the gods he wasn’t near any water….

As it would turn out later, as long as he's not being held captive in an attic Belphie kind of vibes with their laid-backness… They say they approach life "one wave at a time" or something.

He could care less about what that actually means, but what it translates to is "Stop stressing out and just keep chill" which he's all about.

Everybody should just chill out!... dude…. Nah, he'll let them stick to the “dude”-thing, it feels weird...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me demigods

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luna-the-moth · 4 years ago

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Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving S/O (SFW)

I accidentally deleted the ask, but here’s what was requested: @hey-its-spades : Hello! For Levi, Lucifer, and Satan if you dont mind uwu . Mc has a knack for plants and has taken it upon themselves to put plants everywhere. ( hanging from ceilings,crawling ivy on outside walls,in the kitchen, library, even luci's study.) All the rooms look a liytle greener and None of them say anything but the student body is saying that it makes the old place look alive and home-y. It makes mc really happy.

Oh I adore this ask! SFW, with a GN! reader. I’m assuming by student body you mean the HoL residents? Since almost nobody outside the household residents visit there. I got really carried away with Levi and the Lucifer angst as well-

My vampire poll for the OM characters

My ask box is open, but please read my rules and guidelines before requesting! Please send them in my ask box, as I can keep track of requests better. Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving Reader (SFW)

Prologue/basics for all of them:

Ever since you came to the HoL, you decided that it was too....lifeless.

Sure, there were bright candles lighting the halls, but the house was devoid of any life, besides the brothers and Henry.

So you took it upon yourself to decorate, of course!

While many human world plants didn’t fare well in the Devildom due to the poor soil quality, Lord Diavolo had agreed to bring you enchanted soil, guaranteed to grow any plant.

Regardless of temperature or sunlight needs, whatever plant grew in that soil would flourish to its upmost potential.

Asmo had a great deal of amusement with you decorating, advising you on what colors would fit specific areas of the household, and what species of flowers would bring beautiful symbolism as well.

In the house’s entryway, you left a pair of Strelitzia nicolai (giant bird of paradise) plants, as they added a subtle flair.

With long, stemmed leaves, it contributed a touch of elegance and flair.

On the a few windowsills, you had placed Begonia rex-coltorum (Rex begonias), their dark, vivid, colors standing out.

You had planted crawling ivy on the outside walls, making the house seem more inviting.

Lucifer:

Lucifer hadn’t minded your redecoration, as it had matched well with the house’s aesthetic, adding to the beauty.

In fact, he had quite enjoyed seeing you pore over catalogues and books, deciding which one would fit the space best.

Over the next few weeks, he watched as the House of Lamentation became brighter, more colorful.

It was a nice change, he thought.

However, he was surprised when he had woken up in his study, rose bushes in the corners of his study.

Deep, red roses greeted him as he surveyed his study with a pleased smile.

It was no secret Lucifer adored roses, and he was appalled when he had first arrived in the Devildom, as the soil quality was so poor, it could hardly grow anything.

Which meant he couldn’t grow roses, one of his favorite flowers.

The fact that you had thought about him, and wanted to gift him such a beautiful display, greatly moved the stoic demon.

Making his way to one of the bushes, he took off his gloves and knelt down on one knee.

The soft, sweet fragrance immersed his senses, filling him with memories of laughter, smiles, serenity, and Lilith.

Roses were her favorite flower.

As the memories flooded his mind, Lucifer suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of longing, and his vision became blurred.

He remembered the way Lilith used to brighten up when helping him with his garden, an eager grin ever-present on her face.

The way she would make him a colorful bouquet of roses whenever Michael had given him more stressful tasks than usual.

He quickly wiped a stray tear that had fallen from one of his eyes, and calmed himself.

Taking one of the velvety flowers in his hand, Lucifer gently brought his lips to the flower head, leaving a soft kiss, almost as if it was Lilith’s forehead.

The next time you went over to his study for some tea, he brought you into his arms, bringing you close to him.

Kissing your cheek, he lets a small smile break through his usually-serious facade.

“Thank you for the roses, my love. They compliment my study’s aesthetic nicely.”

Placing a small kiss on your neck, he smirked.

“Perhaps I can thank you with a date tonight?”

Leviathan:

Levi actively enjoyed watching you redecorate the HoL.

It was like one of his favorite games, The Grims! (Yes that was a terrible pun for The Sims.)

He had listened with interest as you went off on the best plants that would fit his aesthetic, and would match well with water.

What caught his attention, was when you brought up the topic of bio luminescent plants.

Of course, they weren’t naturally grown in the human world, but scientists had recently found a way to genetically modify tobacco plants.

In doing so, they had spliced the genes with four fungus genes related to bio luminescence, then carefully cultivated them.

From a seedling to maturity, the plants presented a small glow, visible to the naked eye.

The gene modification had no harmful effects on the plants, and the only difference between the lab-modified plants and wild plants, were height.

The entire time you had explained the plant’s origins passionately, Levi sat in awe, watching as you had gestured your hands in an excited fashion.

So this is what you meant when you had said you enjoyed him being so passionate about an anime or game.

At first, Levi had thought you were merely exaggerating to cheer him up, but as he looks at you now, eyes shining with delight, he understood.

You decided that since you were decorating the HoL, you would decorate Levi’s room as well.

You didn’t have access to the bio-luminescent plants, but you decorated his rooms to the nines nonetheless.

So, you had pooled together your money and resources, to create a mini lily pond for him!

You had miraculously gotten him out of the house, for a cosplay con, in which you had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to buy yourself a ticket.

Which we all know is a lie, you had just not bought one for yourself in order to stay at home, assembling the pond with Solomon’s help.

It was small, enough to fit around 6-7 lily pads/lotuses.

You had carefully grown the lily pads in your room, watching as they eventually bloomed into light, almost ethereal flowers.

By the time Levi came home, you had just finished cleaning up, getting the mud washed from your hands and arms.

Upon seeing the lily pond, Levi’s eyes were wide with amazement and shock.

You created and did this, for him?

Absolutely sets down his handfuls of merch, (gently, mind you) and silently steps over to you.

He does his best to hug you like in anime, wanting you to know how much he appreciates this.

Yes, it may be awkward, but it warms your heart knowing that he stepped out of his comfort zone, just to thank you.

He’s too embarrassed to say it while looking at you, but you can hear his voice as he rests his head against yours.

As he pulls away, a blush is evident on his face, his head turned to the side as he awkwardly places his hand against the back of his neck.

“T-thank you, Y/n. It’s a b-beautiful lily pond.”

Satan:

He fully supported your botanical excursion

After all, he’s always had an affinity for plants.

Whether it be for potions, poisons, or mere decor, Satan had a green thumb, through and through.

If his room weren’t full of books, scriptures, and all sorts of literature, he’d fill it with various plants.

So when you had announced that you were going to re-decorate the HoL with various flora, he was buzzing with excitement.

He gathered every human botanical book he knew of, and started leaving them for you on your desk.

Within a week, you had stacks upon stacks of books, knowledge ready at your disposal.

And so you began to research.

Satan was considerate to leave footnotes in a few of them, like what type would pair well with what color schemes, etc.

You smiled while reading through them, seeing Satan’s elegant handwritten flow across the pages.

Within a few weeks, you had skimmed through the books, thoroughly reading a handful of them.

After ordering the plants you wanted on Azukon, (courtesy of Lord Diavolo’s credit card-) you were eagerly anticipating their arrival.

Especially because a few ‘special items’ were in the package.

After all, you wanted to thank Satan properly for his help.

When the various flora arrived, you had carefully cultivated each of them, encouraging their growth.

Satan had assisted you, monitoring their progress, and making sure none of his brothers ruined them.

The following weekend, Satan had a student council meeting planned, as did the rest of the brothers.

Which left you with the perfect opportunity to set up Satan’s gifts.

In his room, you had placed Senecio rowleyanus (string of pearls) plants, their bright green globes spilling over the bookshelves.

Along with that, were lavender candles, with dried lavender crushed inside.

After all, Satan had always (usually) been the most level-headed out of his brothers, despite his title.

He’s much more than the avatar of wrath, and has gone through painstaking time and trials to overcome that.

That’s why you had picked lavender, which without a doubt, would be noticed by Satan.

When he had come back from the meeting, he was already in a pissy mood, as things didn’t go as planned, ending in an argument between the brothers.

However, when he stepped into his room, seeing lavender candles lit, and garlands of plants over the bookshelves, he immediately broke out in a smile.

A real, genuine smile.

Seeing you sitting on his bed, lavender candles lit, plant garlands stringing down from the bookshelves, it was almost like one of the romance novels he had read...

Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms, spinning you until you were laughing for him to stop.

Finally setting you down to gently kabeddon you, he playfully kisses the corner of your lips.

“Thank you my love, these are absolutely beautiful. I shall preserve these for all eternity.”

#my writing #obey me #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x reader fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me scenario #obey me headcanon #obey me angst

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atlafan · 4 years ago

Text

Lock the Door

a/n: college!Harry one shot because why the f not??????? I’ve wanted to write a good college!Harry au for aw while, and I’m happy with this. 11K of friends to lovers. (not proofread)

Warnings: Smut.

It was junior year of college, Y/N and her friends were thrilled to finally be out of the dorms. Even though they were still living on campus, they were in a student apartment, and incredibly thankful. Now instead of sharing a bathroom with hundreds of other people, there would only be four of them. The only thing was Y/N’s parents weren’t thrilled about the people she was rooming with.

There was her best friend, Liv, who her parents actually really liked. It was the other two roommates that made them feel uneasy. See, Liv really wanted to live with her boyfriend Chris, but they didn’t want to exactly live by themselves, and the student apartments for just two people were really expensive. They’d been dating since second semester their freshman year so it wasn’t weird that they wanted to be in closer proximity. Y/N also thought Chris was an amazing person. He and Liv never made her feel like a third wheel, it was an ideal situation. The three would have been fine to live together, but the university had certain policies in place. One guy was not allowed to live with two girls, they needed another guy. That’s when the topic of Harry came up.

“I know he’s not your favorite of my friends, but the other people he was supposed to live with are going off campus, which he can’t afford to do.”

“It’s not that he’s not my favorite, I just don’t know him that well.” Y/N shrugged. “If that’s the case, I think Liv and I should share a room…”

“Yeah, that works. Chris and I don’t wanna be on top of each other all the time, we’re just sick of going across campus all the time.” Liv says. “So, you’d really be okay with Harry living with us? You’ve said before you don’t really care for his lifestyle…”

“He’s just not the first person I would hang out with, but if it means we get this apartment, then I’m cool with it. We’ll get to know each other better if we live together, right?”

When Y/N broke the news to her parents they got into a big fight with her about it, but she assured them that a lot of other students did what she and her friends were doing. Living with boys really wasn’t that big of a deal. If anything it would give her practice for when she someday actually got a boyfriend that she would eventually move in with.

The four of them got coffee together the morning they had to have the housing application in. Harry didn’t say much, clearly not a morning person, but he seemed alright with the situation. He and Chris were good enough friends, and he was also excited to not be in a dorm next year.

“I just have one request.” Y/N says. “A lot of the apartments usually have one room that’s bigger than the other, from what I’ve noticed. I’d like for Liv and I to have the bigger room. Chris, I’ve seen your dorm, you literally have like nothing in there. Liv and I have a ton clothes and other things that we’ll space for…”

Chris and Harry look at each other and shrug.

“Alright, that’s not problem.” Chris says. “We should make a group text so over the summer we can see who’s bringing what. We need to figure out dishes and other kitchen shit.”

“And we’ll still need a mini fridge for extra shit, one of my friends was tellin’ me there’s not much room in the apartment fridges. I can bring the one I have.”

“I have a microwave.” Y/N says. “Happy to bring that too.”

“We’ll also need a chore chart.” Liv says. “Just because Y/N and I will be the women of the house does not mean we’ll be the maids. I am not going to be on my hands and knees cleaning the bathroom all the time. We should also pool in money for toilet paper and stuff like that.”

“Good idea, babe.” Chris kisses her cheek and Harry rolls his eyes.

That was is right there, the attitude that turned Y/N’s stomach. She thought Chris and Liv were a really cute couple, their affection didn’t bother her at all, but Harry seemed overly annoyed. All it was, was a peck on the cheek.

You all wished each other a good summer when the time came. The four of you group texted off and on best you could to make sure there was little miscommunication about who was to bring what. Since Harry was an international student, he would be moving in a week before everyone else. Y/N was actually happy about this because he would be there to help her move in. She’d be coming up the night before move in to get a good parking spot, and then her parents would come the next day with the rest of her things.

For the first time, she texted Harry outside the group chat when she arrived at her apartment. He opened the door for her only wearing a pair of shorts. Her eyes grew wide, and he notices.

“Sorry, it’s hotter than satin’s asshole in here, I hope you brought a fan for yourself.” He rubs the back of his neck, and you laugh.

“I did. That’s the worst thing, no A/C in these old apartment. At least it’s only hot like this for a couple of weeks, right?” He hums his response as she walks in. “To be honest I was expecting a mess…but it looks good in here.”

“Not much to make a mess with.” He shrugs. “I rearranged some of the furniture in the living area so it was less tight next to the kitchen. Got the TV set up too.”

“I can see that, it looks nice.” You smile.

“So…do you like need some help with your shit?”

“That would be great, actually. The microwave is pretty heavy.”

“Thank god you brought it with you. I’ve been dying for some popcorn.”

“Great, you can stink it right up.”

“Relax, I was kidding.” He rolls his eyes. “Take a joke, Y/N.”

Her mouth falls open as he walks out to her car. He opens the trunk and hoists the microwave out while she grabs her luggage bags that were full of clothes.

“I can bring that up for you. It’s an up and up, so Chris and I are on that level, and you and Liv will be up top. That was the bigger room just like you requested.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

Harry helps get everything else inside while Y/N goes to get a prime parking spot. Harry felt sort of awkward just standing around while she unpacked certain things for the kitchen.

“Jesus, it really is hot in here, I need to go change.” She wipes some sweat from her forehead.

Y/N goes up to her room and opens the two small windows, and turns her fan on to try to get the air to move. She comes down a few minutes later in just a sports bra and a pair of shorts.

“This is sort of awkward, but you help me with my bed? I’m having a tough time getting it up a little higher…”

“Not awkward…at…all.” When he looks at her he sees how little clothing she’s wearing.

“If you get to be shirtless then I get to dress like this.” She says, putting her hands on her hips.

“I didn’t say anything.” He smirks. “Besides, I’m sure we’ll be seein’ each other in a lot less as the year goes on.”

She shakes her head and follows him up. Harry’s able to get the bet up a few pegs so Y/N can slide the small dresser underneath it, creating more floor space.

“That’s perfect! My parents are bringing those plastic pins you can stack as like a makeshift dresser that fits in the closet tomorrow. Hmmm.”

“What?”

“Well, usually my mom helps me make the bed. It’s just so long, it’s hard to get a good grasp on the sheet.”

“I can help if you want.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” He smiles. “After this though would you wanna get out for a bit? I feel like it’s cooler outside. We could go downtown for a slice.”

“Oh, I like that idea a lot. Pizza is a must right now.”

Harry helps you get her sheets on her bed, and she tell him she’ll fix the rest later. Y/N knew she wouldn’t need a lot of extra blankets tonight. She throws on a shirt and so does he, and out the door they go. They walk down town the local pizza place, and grab a booth after getting their slices.

“Nice and cool in here, huh?” He says.

“So much better.” She giggles. “Where are your other friends living?”

“They’re over on Russell Street. It’s kinda nice, I’ll have a place to go party, and then have a quiet place to come back to afterwards. Think it all worked out for the best.”

“Can you remind me again what your major is? I know Chris is Sports Management…”

“I’m an Art major…” He says quietly. “And yes, I know it’s going to be hard for me out there once I graduate.”

“Woah, I didn’t say anything.” She puts her hands up in defense. “I think that’s cool actually. What do you do? Paint? Sculpt? Draw?”

“Mix of all three actually. Basically if I can get my hands dirty, I will.” He smirks. “I just wanted to get a degree in something I liked doin’, but I do have a minor in graphic design just in case I need somethin’ to fall back on.”

“Oh, is that how you and Chris met? That’s his minor too.”

“Mhm.” He takes a bite of his pizza. “We had a couple of classes together and got paired on some projects, hit it off right away.”

“That’s great.”

“How did you and Liv meet?”

“We roomed together second semester freshmen year. Our other roommates both dropped out so we got paired randomly. She’s the best, I got really lucky. She was already dating Chris when we met.”

“The three of you seem close.”

“He’s really nice, always included me. They never made me feel like a third wheel which was nice. I mean, I have other friends, don’t get me wrong. I found things to do when they needed their alone time.”

“And you ever find any alone time?”

“That’s an awfully personal question, don’t you think?” She scoffs.

“Thought we were gettin’ to know each other a bit here…sorry.”

“It’s okay…um…I mean, there are guys I’ve been alone with…” Y/N clears her throat. “I use Tinder like every other college student, you know?” He hums his response and finishes up his slice. He leans back and sits with his arm strong across the back of the booth. “What about you?”

“Eh, I like to meet people in person, at like a party or somethin’.” He thinks for a moment, and leans on the table to be a bit closer so no one else around could really hear. “You’re pretty, Y/N, why do you use Tinder?” She blushes. “I mean, surely you could just meet someone out.”

“I…well, I don’t really go to big parties, mostly kickbacks.” He nods and finishes up his bottle of soda.

“You ready?”

“Mhm.”

They both walk back to the apartment, and he keys in. She goes upstairs to keep unpacking and to tidy up. She was trying to hang up some curtains, but she fell back from trying to reach to high. Harry hears the thud and rushes right up. He had a nicer short sleeve shirt on now, and a nicer pair of shorts.

“Are you okay?!”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Just lost my balance. Do you think you could help me hang these up quick?”

“Sure.”

The curtains get hung and they look great with the twinkling lights Y/N strung up.

“Liv and I love these lights.” She looks at him. “You like nice.”

“Matt’s havin’ a party…do you wanan come?”

“God, with the amount of time I’d need to get ready you’d be late.” You laugh.

“I wasn’t plannin’ to leave for another hour, plenty of time to freshen up.”

“Sure, I could come out for a bit, thanks.”

He leaves her to get ready. She puts her hair up in a cute, messy bun, and touches up some makeup. Y/N finds a cute pair of shirts and a crop top to throw on and down the stairs she goes. Harry was pouring two shots of raspberry vodka into two small glasses.

“Here.” He smiles. “Wait, you drink, right?”

“Yes.” You giggle. “I can’t wait to turn twenty-one. Just a few more months.”

“Same here, February actually.”

“No way! Me too. When’s yours?”

“The first, yours?”

“The fourth.”

“Wow, that’s crazy.” They clink their glasses and off to the party they go.

Y/N drank way too much last night, and she knew her parents would be able to tell. They were there bright and early with the rest of her things. They also put Harry to work.

“You have a lot of shit, you know that?” He says, setting another box down.

“I’m well aware.”

Eventually Liv and Chris show up and it’s hugs all around. Y/N and Liv get a minute alone in their room, finally.

“So how was last night with just you and Harry?”

“It was good! We went out for pizza, he helped me a bunch with my things, and he took me to a party. I’m glad we had the time to get to know each other a little bit.”

“Me too. He can be kind of shy from what Chris tells me.”

“Apparently he’s an art major.”

“I wonder if he’ll hang any of his things up.”

“You know, he’s been in our room a ton already, but I didn’t think to go into his.”

“Well, let’s check it out.” They both go down and into the boy’s room.

Both sides were organized, but they could tell whose side was whose. Harry had his art supplies all over his desk, and had boxes of paint and brushes under his bed. He had a couple of things up as well.

“Looks good in here guys.” Liv says.

Y/N and Liv end up going out for lunch with Y/N’s parents, and then they go on a trip to the grocery store to pick up what they think they need.

“Alright honey, I guess we’ll see you at Thanksgiving, if not sooner.” Y/N’s mother says, giving her a hug.

“Please, be careful.” Her dad says.

“I’ll be fine. Let me know when you get back home. Thanks for everything, love you both!” She sighs as she closes the door. “Finally.”

Y/N and Liv go up to their room and continue decorating it to their liking while Harry and Chris get their gaming consoles hooked up to the TV in the living area.

“So…you got to know Y/N a little last night?”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool so far. I was kinda worried, I didn’t think she liked me every much.”

“She just didn’t know you, that’s all. What did you guys do?”

“I helped her with her things, we grabbed a slice of pizza, and then I took her to Matt’s for a party. I think there were like three different guys that tried to take her home, but she turned them all down.” He shrugs.

“And what did you do?”

“She didn’t have a key yet, so I made sure she got back here, and then I slipped out an hour or so later to hook up with this girl that gave me her number at the party.”

“Well, thanks for getting her back here at least.” Chris chuckles.

“I’m not a fuckin’ asshole.” He nudges him playfully. “She did have fun at the party, I’ll probably bring her out again. You all can come any time. I feel like that place is gonna be my second home.”

Y/N and Live come down with all the things they like to keep in the bathroom and the boys look scared. For a student apartment it was a decent size bathroom, with a good size tub-shower. Liv opens the cabinets under the sink, and you hand her two boxes of pads and tampons.

“Yup, definitely livin’ with women.” Harry smirks and crosses his arms.

“If feminine products are going to bother you-“ Liv starts, but he cuts her off.

“Got a mum and a sister back home, periods don’t scare me. Was just simply makin’ an observation.”

“Good.” She grabs a small trashcan puts a bag in it. Y/N hands her the lid. “Listen to me very carefully, this is just for Y/N and I. There’s another small can for community use, but this is for her and I’s…”

“Say no more.” Chris says. “Just keep it under the sink and we won’t touch it.”

“I also would like some courtesy with shaving.” Y/N says. “I really don’t wanna see pubes around the toilet.” She crosses her arms. “If you make a mess, you clean it up.”

“I feel like the two of you think we’re savages.” Harry laughs. “I’ve been in a girl’s bathroom before, and I have to say, I think girls are way more disgusting.”

“Why were you in a girl’s bathroom?” Liv asks.

“I was asked to join someone in the shower.” Harry says bluntly. “And it didn’t last long because we both walked in and saw a fuckin’ bloody tampon on the floor. So we went to the men’s bathroom and it was spotless. And while we’re on the topic, you both have long hair, so if you don’t wanna see pubes around the toilet, I don’t wanna see hair in the drain.”

“Deal.” Y/N says. “Let’s move on to the kitchen, shall we?” The four walk out to the kitchen area. “If you make a mess in the microwave, you clean it immediately, don’t leave it for someone else.”

“If someone’s name is on something in the fridge, don’t eat it.” Chris says. “However, I would like to see us cooking together. Like if someone makes pasta, someone else could throw in a meat or veggie.”

“That’s a good idea.” Liv says. “If you make a mess in the fridge clean it up. Check expiration dates. Oh! Trash is a big thing. We all need to take turns with that. If you see it getting full, just take it out, don’t leave it for someone else.”

After spending over an hour on a chore chart and going over more house rules, the four feel satisfied.

A few weeks into the semester, and Y/N noticed that Harry wasn’t home a lot. He was either down at the art studio, or at his friend’s apartment. She also noticed he didn’t sleep there much on the weekends, but it worked out well for Chris and Liv so they could have the room alone when they needed. Y/N never saw Harry bring a girl home with him, and she was sort of relieved.

Living with two guys wasn’t as awkward as Y/N and Liv thought it might be. Everyone was really chill, and it was nice to cook together. It was like being in a little family.

One morning Harry woke up late for class, but desperately needed to shower. Y/N happened to be in there. Everyone usually showered at the same time, but Harry was in a rush and annoyed. Liv and Chris had already left for class. Harry was standing the hall, just in a towel, waiting for you to finish. When he hears the water turn off, he sighs with relief. When she didn’t come out right away, he groans.

“The fuck is she doin’ in there.” He knocks on the door. “Y/N?! I’m runnin’ late, and I need to shower!”

She opens the door immediately and they both freeze. Her eyes fall to the towel that was hanging low on his waist, and then up to him. Her towel wasn’t exactly as secure as it could be either. Her hair was just brushed out and dripping wet down her chest.

“I’m so sorry, why didn’t you knock sooner? I, uh, just let me grab my blow dryer…” She snatches it and scoots by him.

“I’ll be quick if you need to get back in there…”

“Thanks.”

Harry takes his very quick, and semi-cold shower, and gets ready for class. He had ab out ten minutes to spare. Y/N comes down the stairs, and slips into the bathroom to grab some spare tampons, and bumps into Harry on her way out, causing her to drop them.

“Shit sorry, I’m fuckin’ up your entire routine this mornin’.” He bends down to pick up what he caused her to drop and blushes when he sees that they’re tampons. He grabs them anyways and hands them to her.

“It’s okay, really.” She takes them and sticks them in her bag. “Um…well, have a good day Harry.”

“You too.”

“Y/N?” Harry knocks on her bedroom door late one night. She climbs out of bed and goes down the few steps to open it.

“Is everything okay, Harry?”

“Yeah, I think Liv and Chris fell asleep…and I really don’t wanna sleep on the couch, nor do I wanna go in there in case they decide to get busy again.” He huffs. He looked exhausted, he was at the studio all evening and just wanted to sleep.

“Oh! Well…okay, I could sleep in her bed if you wanna sleep in mine?”

He follows her up the stairs.

“I’ll just sleep in hers, we’re all close enough now. She doesn’t really have a leg to stand on to say much about it.” He yawns and takes his shirt off.

“Okay.” He watches as she uses the small step stool to get back into her bed. He waits until she’s scrolling on her phone to take his pants off, and he climbs into Liv’s bed. “I’m gonna turn the light off now.”

“Alright.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Similar nights to those kept happening, and Harry was starting to get aggravated, so he called for a roommate meeting to discuss it.

“I’m sick of not bein’ able to sleep in my own bed. I know I’m not here a lot, but when I am, I’d like to be able to just go to my room and go to sleep.”

“You’re right, Harry. I’m sorry.” Liv says, sort of embarrassed.

“I think you two should just share a room. It’s clear that’s what you want anyways.”

“But what about Y/N?” Liv looks at her.

“I feel like Harry’s been my roommate anyways.” She shrugs. “We share every other room with guys, guess I wouldn’t mind rooming with one either.”

“What if your parents find out?” Chris asks.

“It’s not like we’re gonna push the bed together and sleep next to each other like you both are probably gonna do. He’ll have his side, and I’ll have mine. I think it makes the most sense too.”

That afternoon everyone helps move things around. Liv gets situated with Chris while Harry gets his things the way he likes.

“You know secretly, I’m happy they didn’t ask for the bigger room. It’s way nicer up here.” Harry says, sitting down on his new bed. “You sure you’re okay with this? I don’t wanna take away your privacy…”

“I’ll just change in the bathroom more.” She shrugs. “Or, I mean, just look the other way if I happen to need to change quick up here and I’ll give you the same courtesy.”

“I know I’m not here a lot on the weekends, but for the times I am, I mean, uh, like do you ever bring anyone back here with you? If you could just text me a warning or somethin’ or put somethin’ on the door.”

“I don’t…I haven’t, um, it’s been a dry start to the semester.” She blushes. “I had my period, and then I’ve started to get busy with my classes…I’ve gone out a few times, but there’s also no one I’ve really wanted to hook up with. Don’t worry, if the occasion happens I’ll give you a heads up.”

“Cool.”

“Is that what you’re out doing on the weekends? Hooking up?”

“Sometimes…mostly I just end up sleepin’ at Matt’s. They have a futon for me there for when I get too drunk to walk all the way back here. You should come out to another party, he’s havin’ people over tonight if you wanna come. Let the lovebirds down there have a little privacy.”

“Good idea, yeah, that sounds like fun.” She gets up and goes into her closet to pick out a casual dress. “Is your friend Matt single?” She asks without looking at him.

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know…I think he’s cute, and he was really nice to me last time I was there. Gave me a bunch to drink.”

“Well, that’s just common courtesy when you bring a girl to a party. Get her all liquored up.” Harry smirks.

“Mhm.” She rolls her eyes at him, and grabs a blue dress from her closet and her jean jacket. “Do you think he’d be into me?”

“What’s not to be into?”

“Oh stop it.”

“M’serious! You’re really nice, and you’re cute. He’d go for you.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

Harry walks Y/N to the party after pregaming a bit at their place.

“Harry!” Matt says as he walks in. “And you brought Y/N again, hey.”

“Hi.” They smile at each other.

“We’re just setting a game of flip cup up in the kitchen, you guys wanna play?”

“Sure!” Y/N says brightly.

The night was a lot of fun. Harry found himself talking to some girl who was clearly trying to get him to go home with her, but in the pit of his stomach he wanted to make sure you got home okay.

“Let me just find my friend and make sure she’s all set, okay?” He say, leaning into the girl and she nods.

Harry searches for you. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Matt in a while either. He walks into the kitchen and stops short when he sees Y/N sitting up on the counter with her legs wrapped around Matt’s waist, and his tongue down her throat. He wants to say something, but he opts to just text her that he’s left with someone.

“She’s all set, let’s go.” He takes the girl by her hand and leads her out of the house.

She tells him where she lives and that her roommate was gone for the weekend so they wouldn’t be disturbed. She was a good shag, Harry was having fun, but just as he coming an image of Y/N’s legs wrapped around his own waist, instead of Matt’s popped into his head.

“Shit.” He groans and looks down at the girl underneath him. She smiles up at him and he smiles back.

He pulls out and throws the condom away. She frowns when he starts to get dressed.

“You don’t have to leave…”

“I know, usually I would spend the night, but…uh…I.” He sighs and looks at her. “Listen, I don’t really have a good excuse, I just wanna go sleep in my own bed, I’m sorry.” He leans in and kisses her forehead. “I had a lot of fun though.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You have my number?”

“Yeah.”

“Text me anytime.” He winks, and leaves her there.

When Harry gets back to his empty room, he’s not entirely sure what it is about it that’s bothering him. Eventually he’s able to fall asleep, but he’s woken up a few hours later by the sounds of Y/N coming up the few steps to their room. She was carrying her shoes to not make much noise. She gently opens her dresser drawer to grab a large t-shirt and shorts. He looks away while she changes, not that he could really see her anyways with how dark the room was. He hears her get into bed, and the satisfied sigh she makes turns his stomach.

The light creeping in from the curtains punched Harry in the face. He sits up and see Y/N on her side facing him, scrolling on her phone. She looks up at him when she sees he’s awake.

“Morning.” She says quietly.

“Hey.” He stretches and gets up. Even though they’d been sharing a room for a while, she would never get used to seeing him in just a pair of boxers. “M’takin’ a shower.”

“Okay.” He stops short before going down the stairs.

“What time did you get home last night?”

“Um…like 3AM I think. I was surprised to see your shoes downstairs. I’m glad I caught them or I would’ve flipped the light on and barreled up here.” She laughs. “I thought you went home with someone.”

“I did.”

“Oh.”

“Didn’t feel like spendin’ the night.” She hums her response. “Did you hook up with Matt?”

“Yeah.” You blush. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, why the fuck would I care?” He crosses his arms.

“I don’t know…I mean I figured you knew what my intention was since I asked you if he was single, but if you don’t want me hooking up with your friends, I don’t have to again.”

“So if I really had a problem with it, you wouldn’t fuck him again?”

“If you had a valid reason, sure. I mean…it was a nice hook up, but not the best I ever had. It’s not like I need to have his dick again.” Harry had never really hard Y/N talk like that before, it surprised him. “Oh god, don’t tell him I said that…”

“What wasn’t good about it?”

“I…what?”

“Well, if it wasn’t the best you ever had, what wasn’t good about it? Come on, you can tell me?” He leans back against the wall.

“I didn’t get off.” She says bluntly.

“Oh.”

“And I had to fake it so we could be done.” Her cheeks grew redder.

“You sounded pretty satisfied when you got back…”

“I sighed with relief because I was exhausted and was finally in my comfy bed.”

“So you faked it.”

“Mhm.”

“Why not just tell him he was doin’ it wrong.”

“He was so drunk, Harry, I don’t think it would’ve made a difference. He passed out after, and I slipped out the door.”

“Wait, you walked back by yourself?” He frowns.

“Yeah.”

“If that happens again, just call me, okay? I don’t like that.”

“But you were with someone.”

“So? I’m always there for my friends, come on Y/N. What if somethin’ bad happened?”

“Okay, okay, I won’t walk alone again.”

“Good.”

“Go shower so I can shower, will you?”

“We could just save water and shower together.” He jokes, and she whips her pillow at him. “Oi!” He picks it up and whips it back at her, making her laugh.

Harry came home with paint all over his hands, and was scrubbing them profusely when Y/N came in through the door.

“Thank god it’s Friday, I’m beat.” You sigh and flop onto the couch.

“Me too, I think I’m gonna stay in tonight.”

“Oh?” She was shocked.

“Mhm.” He sits down next to her. “Might play some video games or somethin’. What about you, do you have plans?”

“As of right now, no. But who knows, my friends my text and say something’s happening.” She shrugs.

“We could hang out if you wanted.”

“What would you wanna do?”

“We could watch a movie.”

“Sure! That sounds nice actually. We should see if Liv and Chris wanna join. I feel like we never all hang out.”

Harry was annoyed, but not visibly. He really hated hanging out with couples.

That night the four get cozy on the couch for a movie. Chris made everyone drinks, and Y/N popped some popcorn. The girls sit in the middle of the couch while the boys take the end seats. Not that that mattered, because eventually Chris pulled Liv into his lap, and they got comfortable together. The wine Y/N had been drinking was making her sleepy, and her head dropped onto Harry’s shoulder, not that he minded.

She wakes up to the feeling of being carried up to their room.

“Harry?” He sets her down on her bed.

“Yeh fell asleep.” He smooths her hair away from her face. “Brought yeh up.”

“Do you…never mind.”

“What?”

“I don’t know…it’s stupid, never mind.”

“Y/N, would you just tell me what you want?”

“Well…sometimes I get a little jealous that Chris and Liv can just cuddle, and I didn’t know if you’d wanna have a platonic cuddle with me for a bit.”

“A platonic cuddle?”

“Yeah, but only if you want.”

“What does that entail exactly?”

“Well, you could lay next to me and I could just rest my head on your chest. No spooning unless I’m the big spoon.”

“Why’s that?” He chuckles. “Not that I don’t like being the little spoon.”

“I wouldn’t wanna give you a boner if I was little spoon.”

“Ah, right, because I have zero zelf control.”

“Do you wanna cuddle or not?”

“Yeah, alright.”

He climbs onto her bed and lays flat on his back so she can rest her head on his chest, just like she wanted. He puts an arm around her and rests his hand on her shoulder. What Y/N didn’t know was that Harry had gotten a booty call text, and was supposed to be out the door, but this was something that Harry just couldn’t say no to, so he texts the girl and apologizes, and tells her he’ll be over another time. He feels her nuzzle into his chest further. Harry realizes he very much likes the attention he’s getting from wine-drunk Y/N.

They both asleep like that, cuddled together on Y/N’s bed. Her eyes fluttered open, at first she was confused when she saw Harry, but then she remembered she asked him to cuddle with her. She didn’t remember getting so comfy she had fallen asleep. Both of his arms were around her, and she had a leg over one of his. His lips were parted and light snores were coming from him. Y/N desperately needed to pee, but she also didn’t want to disturb him. She notices his phone lighting up with texts, and her curiosity got the better of her. After all, it could’ve been an emergency.

Lindsay – Matt’s Party: are you serious? 12:04AM

Lindsay – Matt’s Party: you’re rly not coming over? 12:07AM

Lindsay – Matt’s Party: this is the 3rd time you’ve done this, H. I’m done. 12:15AM

Y/N sets his phone back down, and looks back up at him with a raised eyebrow.

He blew off some girl for me? She thinks to herself. He could’ve gone…maybe he didn’t really like her that much.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes slowly open. He has the same slight confusion Y/N did, but then he relaxes when he remembers he voluntarily slept next to her.

“Hey.” He mumbles in a sleepy voice, one she had gotten quite used to and liked a lot.

“Hi.” The air suddenly felt awkward. “I need to pee.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t wanna wake you up.”

“Okay.”

“So, I’ll just…”

She sits up slightly, and ends up straddling him to try to climb over him. Her head suddenly started hurting and she almost fell off. Harry grabs her by her hips to steady her.

“You’re like really clumsy.” He says to her.

“I’m aware.” She looks down at his hands. “I still need to pee, can you let go of me.”

His cheeks heat up and he lets go of her so she can continue trying to get off her bed. Harry was still tired, and he could easily go slip into his bed, but he liked Y/N’s bed, for whatever reason. So he rolls onto his side and checks his phone.

“Fuck.” He says when he sees the texts from Lindsay. He thinks to text her back and apologize, but he didn’t want to lead her on anymore because odds are he’d stand her up again. ]

Y/N comes back up a few minutes later, feeling much better after having used the toilet and brushed her teeth. She chuckles when she sees Harry still on her bed.

“What are you doing?”

“M’not awake enough to move yet.” He mumbles as she grabs some clothes from her dresser.

“Well, I have some homework I need to get done, so I’m gonna shower and then go to the library.”

“I’ll be at the studio most of the day, and then I’ll probably go to Matt’s tonight…”

“Okay.”

He watches her go back down the stairs and he sits up. The two had gotten into the habit of giving each other a play by play of their plans. Harry figured it was just common courtesy as a roommate, but maybe it was a little bit more. It was like they were an old married couple who slept on two different beds. Harry changes into some new clothes quick and goes downstairs. Chris was eating some breakfast as he grabs a Gatorade from the fridge.

“Mornin’, mate.” Harry says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Morning, thought you went out last night?”

“Nope, I stayed in with Y/N instead.” He shrugs. “I feel kinda bad, the girl was pissed…but I think it was for the best.”

Things were a tad awkward between Harry and Matt since Y/N slept with Matt and never really followed up.

“Did she ever say anything to you?”

“No.” Harry lies. “You hook up with girls all the time, why are you hung up on her?”

“I don’t know, she was a good fuck, I’d like to hit it again.” Harry rolls his eyes as bites down on his cup. “You haven’t brought her here since.”

“She hasn’t seemed interested.” Harry shrugs and turns to see Lindsay talking to her friends. They make eye contact and she flips him off. “Jesus.” He walks over to her. “Can we talk?”

“Why? Because you suddenly have the time?” She huffs.

“Please?”

“Fine.” They step aside from her friends.

“You know, you act like I didn’t even tell you I couldn’t come over…”

“One second you’re saying see you ten, and the next you’re saying not tonight. So what happened? Get a better offer?”

Yes.

“No, it wasn’t that…my roommate needed me…”

“Right, the girl you conveniently share a room with.” She crosses her arms.

“It’s only like that because our friends are dating.”

“What did she need from you then, Harry? Your dick?”

“No!” He groans. “It’s not like that with us, we’re just friends.”

“So then what did she need?”

“She got a little wine drunk, and she seemed like she needed me to stay, so I did. She didn’t know I had other plans when she asked me to hang out a little longer…” Not a total lie, not a total truth. “I really did wanna see you.” He puts his hand on her shoulder.

“I hate how crazy you boys make me, I swear. It’s not like you’re the only person I’m hooking up with…”

“Yeah, same goes for me.”

“I just thought we had a regular thing going, and that was like the third time you blew me off. If you don’t wanna-“ Harry cuts her off by kissing her.

“Let’s get outta here.”

She nods and takes his hand. They walk back to her place, and start to get busy. He was just about to go down on her when his phone rings. He pops his head up to grab it.

“You can’t be serious.”

“It could be an emergency.” He sits up and squints to see it’s Y/N. “Hello?” He starts fingering Lindsay while he’s on the phone with her.

“Harry?” She slurs.

“What’s up?” He rubs Lindsay’s clit and her head rolls back into the pillow.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but.” She hiccups. “Liv and Chris left, or maybe I just can’t find them, anyways, I wanna go home, and you told me to-“

“Where are you?”

“On Russell actually…uhhhhh, 19D I think.”

“Okay, I can be there in like ten minutes, can you hang tight?”

“Mhm. I’ll sit out on the steps for you.”

“Okay.” He hangs up and tosses his phone. “What?”

“You’re a nutbag.”

“Do you want me to fuck you or not? Yeh get me for ten minutes, how do you want it?”

Y/N was sitting on the front steps of the house she was at, waiting for Harry. She was slightly cold from the crisp fall air.

Harry: be there soon :) 1:30AM

She sighs with relief when she gets his text. She sees him walking up the drive and stands up and walks towards him.

“I’m so sorry if I ruined your night.” She stumbles as she walks over to him.

“You didn’t, I’m glad you called.” He hooks his arm around her waist to steady her.

“You smell like perfume.”

“I just hooked with someone, sorry.”

“You what?!” She starts laughing.

“I was in the middle of it when you called, actually.” He starts laughing. “She wasn’t too happy, but I made up for it. Although I deleted her number after I left, it was sort of a parting gift.”

“Sometimes I forget you can be just like every other guy.” She scoffs.

“Hey, I told her it was the last time before I left. She said it was probably for the best anyways.”

“Oh, well as long as she knows.”

“I thought you didn’t really go to parties like this often.”

“I don’t…but Chris got invited out so he brought me and Liv with him, and we all drank a lot. I don’t know how I lost them. I texted them both and told them you were coming for me.” She looks down at the heels on her feet. “I have to take these off, they hurt.”

“It’s too cold to walk barefoot. Lemme give you a piggyback ride.”

“Really?!”

“Sure.” He shrugs.

Y/N gets on his back, and he carries her the rest of the way home. When he gets her inside they see Chris and Liv on the couch.

“There you two are?!” Y/N yells as Harry sets her down. “Where the fuck did you two go?”

“Liv got sick at the party, so I brought her home, we’re so sorry Y/N.” Chris says standing up.

“Yeah, Y/N…this is the first time in over an hour I haven’t had my head in the toilet. Chris cleaned it up so it’s all good.”

“Well I’m sorry you got sick.” She starts unbuttoning her pants and scurries to the bathroom. “I have to pee so bad!”

“Thanks for getting her.” Chris rubs the back of his neck.

“It was no problem. I told her I didn’t want her walkin’ alone and to call me if she was in a place where that might happen.”

Y/N comes out of the bathroom and looks at everyone.

“Feel like I’m gonna pass out so I’m going to bed.”

“I’m gonna take a quick shower, I’ll be up soon.”

“Okay.”

“You two sound like us.” Liv jokes.

“M’just bein’ courteous.” Harry points out and goes to take his shower. He didn’t wanna smell like Lindsay anymore.

When he gets upstairs, only in his towel, he see Y/N sitting up in bed wearing just a large t-shirt and panties. Harry walks by her quick and hope to god his face isn’t red.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He turns to look at her.

“Would you come cuddle again?”

“Course. Now turn around so I can change.”

She playfully covers her eyes and he shakes his head as slides his boxers on.

“This is all I’m wearin’, hope that’s okay.”

“S’fine with me.” She yawns, and he turns off the light.

“Scootch over.” Instead she just rolls onto her side, facing the wall. “Thought you said no spooning.”

“Thought you said you had self-control.”

“I do…” He looks down and sees the t-shirt was now bunched around her hips and he could see the lovely curve of her ass in her cheeky panties. “Just don’t wiggle against me like a brat.”

“I’m never a brat.”

“Mhm.” He mumbles sarcastically as he settles in. He slips a leg between hers, and wraps an arm around her stomach. She adjust against him, just to get comfier, and they both settle.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She yawns.

“Night.” He liked the smell of her perfume much better.

“What the hell happened up here?” Liv cackles the next morning, well, more like afternoon, it was already noon. Harry and Y/N wake up and groan. Harry was still spooning her.

“Liv…no offense, but this isn’t your room anymore.” Y/N groans as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“I just came up to grab my sweatshirt that I let you borrow a couple days ago, but I can see I walked in on something. How long has this been going on for?”

“How long has what been goin’ on for? We’re just sleepin’.”

“Harry you don’t have any clothes on!”

“Not true! I’m wearin’ boxers.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“I asked him to sleep with me, just sleep, well cuddle really.” Y/N speaks up. “It’s platonic.”

“Yeah, not all of us have a boyfriend to go to sleep with every night, Liv.”

“Well, pardon me.” She scoffs and grabs her sweatshirt. “You know it wouldn’t be a big deal if you two hooked up. I think it would make sense, and-“

“Goodbye, Liv, have a nice lunch with Chris’ parents.” Y/N says. “Hope you’re feeling better.”

“Much…and I’ll tell them you say hi.”

“Thanks.”

They watch as she goes back down the stairs, and then look at each other.

“Wanna grab brunch downtown?” Harry asks.

“God, that sounds amazing. Just let me jump in the shower quick?”

“Go for it.”

Harry waits for her to leave before getting out of bed. He removes the blanket and looks down at his morning wood. He was sort of glad Liv woke them up so Y/N didn’t have time to notice it poking her. Or maybe she did and just didn’t say anything or care. Either way he wasn’t going to say anything.

He gets dressed quick and waits for her in the living area. Once she’s ready they walk downtown to the diner, and get a booth for two. They both order coffee and water.

“Wanna split some hashbrowns?” She asks, looking at the menu. “I might get a veggie omelet.”

“Yeah, we could do that. That sounds good too, I think I’ll get the same.” He chuckles.

They both give their orders to the waitress.

“I hope Liv didn’t bother you, you can sleep in my bed any time you want. I kinda like having your wait on me.” She blushes.

“You mean your three weighted blankets aren’t enough for you?” He laughs.

“I do not have three…I have two, and no, they’re not.” She crosses her arms. “I don’t really think it’s that weird.”

“It’s only happened twice too…” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Your bed is way comfier than mine, so I think I’ll be taking you up on that more often than not.”

“Works for me.” She smiles. “I’m really glad we’ve gotten so close, Harry.” She puts her hand over his and it gives him goosebumps. “You’re like my best guy friend.” A punch right to his gut.

“I’m glad we’ve gotten closer too.”

It didn’t happen every night, but Harry and Y/N had gotten into a habit of cuddling and falling asleep together pretty often. There was just something soothing about it for the both of them.

“What the fuck happened up here?” Harry says coming home late from the studio one Thursday night.

“I’m so sorry, I have like two midterms tomorrow and I’m trying to study for both of them and I’m freaking out!”

Y/N had papers and books all over the place. Her laptop was open and she had music playing.

“How long have you been studying for?”

“Hours.” She groans.

“Well, maybe you need a break.”

“I can’t take a break! What if I don’t…what are you doing?!”

He was in the middle of taking his clothes off.

“Hi, I’m Harry, and I tend to get paint all over me, so it required me to change quite frequently. What’s your name?”

“Your sarcasm isn’t helpful. You’re supposed to tell me to turn around.” She pouts.

“Y/N.” He sighs. “You’ve seen me in next to nothing, and to be honest, I don’t really care if you look.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” He throws on a fresh shirt and some sweatpants. He sits down on the floor in front of her. “Look all you want.” He shrugs and picks up her flashcards.

“What are you doing?”

“M’gonna help you study.”

“You don’t have to. I’m sure there are better things you could be doing with your Thursday night.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, don’t you have some girl you need to go fuck?” Harry’s jaw drops. “I’m so sorry, that sounded meaner than it was supposed to. I didn’t mean-“

“But you still said it.” He shakes his head at her. “Is that what you think of me? Some guy that just fucks a ton of girls.”

“Well, to be fair, you do fuck a lot of girls, Harry.”

“A lot of guys do.” He huffs, and then he smirks at you. “You know what your problem is?”

“What’s my problem?”

“You don’t get fucked enough, no scratch that, you don’t get off enough. That’s why you’re so stressed. You get A’s all the time, you know this shit. You’re just tense because you can’t get there, and you share a room with a dude so it’s not like you’re gettin’ yourself there, unless you’re doin’ it in the shower.”

“Would you listen to yourself?” She laughs. “Can you please quiz me?”

“Thought I had better things to do?” He grins.

“Harry.” She sighs.

“Okay, okay.” He squints at the flashcard. “What is Andre Bazin’s main film theory?”

“Realism.”

“Correct, see, you know this.”

“That’s an easy one!”

“I still think you’re just wound up.”

“Would you like to do something about it?” She scoffs.

“I would, actually.” He puts the cards down.

“What? I was kidding, Harry.”

“Well…I’m not.” He sighs.

“You…wait, I’m very confused.”

“To be blunt, I’d like to have sex with you.” Her eyes grow wide and her cheeks flush. “But…I don’t wanna do anything that might ruin-“

“Go down and lock our door.” He’s stunned.

“Wait, really?”

“Do it before I change my mind.” She whispers.

Harry stands up and quietly goes down to lock their door. When he comes back up he sees Y/N bent over cleaning everything up off the floor. She puts everything on her desk, and turns her twinkling lights on. Then she turns the main light off, creating more of an atmosphere.

“You really wanna do this?” Harry asks.

“You’re like the hottest guy I’ve ever met, of course I want to…I just didn’t think you wanted to. You treat me like your little sister or something sometimes.”

“I…wouldn’t call the way we sleep the way I would sleep next to my sister.”

“You really do like grind right into me.”

“So you have noticed that.”

“Of course I have…I just figured it was something all guys did in the morning so I never said anything.”

“You’re on the pill?” He asks, stepping closing to her.

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to use a condom?”

“Yes.”

He nods and goes into his desk drawer to grab a couple, he sets them down.

“Let’s do it on my bed, it’ll make less noise, yours will rock too much since it’s up higher.” She nods and goes over to his bed and sits down. He sits down next to her. “You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

He caresses her cheek.

“You’re shaking.” He says softly.

“I’m nervous.”

“Why? S’just me.”

“That’s exactly why I’m nervous. You’ve always made me nervous, Harry. I’ve just been good at hiding it.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because we have a really good, chill thing going here. And I like being your friend.”

“This doesn’t have to ruin anything…” He cups both of her cheeks with his hands. “Let me make you feel good, Y/N.”

“Okay.”

He pulls her in and crashes her lips to his. Her eyes flutter closed as he swipes his tongue across her bottom lip, and she opens up for him. He tasted just like the mint gum he chewed constantly. She was making out with the guy every girl wanted. Y/N knew about Harry’s reputation, but she also knew a different side of him. She knew the side of him that liked his head scratched to help him fall asleep, and the way he really did just want a banana and nothing more for breakfast, and the way his hands always smelled like paint no matter how many times he scrubbed them.

He pulls back from her to get some air, or so she things, but his lips connect with her jaw and then to just under her earlobe. She gasps when she feels him suck on her skin, but she loves it. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, so she just grips at his shoulders, while his hands roam down to her hips.

In a swift motion, he sits back on the bed, and pulls her onto his lap so she’s straddling him. She rolls her hips down on his while they’re lips find each other again. He groans against her bites down on her bottom lip. He hands tug at the hem of her shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He says, panting.

“Yes.”

He lifts it up over her head, revealing a sports bra that was really pushing her boobs up. He pulls her close and kisses on the tops of her breasts while she continues to grind down on him. She was starting to feel how hard he was and it was making her wet.

“Just take it off.” She says.

He nods and lifts the bra off her. He moves to take his own shirt off as well before cupping her breasts in his large hands. He tweaks her nipples, making her head roll back.

“I’ve wanted to see you like this for a long time, Y/N.” He says as he wraps his lips around her, sucking one of her breasts into his mouth, and letting it go with a pop.

“You have?” She gasps as he does the same thing to other one.

“You have no idea.”

He pulls her close so they’re chests are flush and they go back to kissing. His hands slide down to the globes of her ass and he gives her a good squeeze. He shifts them to lay her down, and she wraps her legs around his waist, just like how he’s wanted for a while. He kisses down her neck, chest, stomach, and then hooks his fingers into her leggings.

“You’re sure?”

“Please, just get them off. Get my underwear off, just take everything off of me.”

He smirks and does everything she says. She was full exposed to him and it was a glorious sight to see. Every curve, every dip, every mark on her was beautiful. He kisses her left knee and works his way to her inner thigh. He looks up at her one more time and he gives him an approving nod. She grips the blankets when she feels his tongue on her. Her hips buck up towards him, but he uses his arm to press down on her waist. He gives her a few slow licks at first, and then flicks his tongue back and forth on her clit. She moans softly, and then grits her teeth when he sucks on her. Her hands fly to his hair when she feels a finger slip inside. He looks up at her again and she just nods yes.

His mouth works her clit while he pumps in and out of her, knuckles deep, curling his fingers up. She gasps and groans, desperately trying to stay quiet so Liv and Chris don’t hear anything. Y/N’s legs were shaking around Harry, and he loved it. Her back was arching, he could tell she was close from the way she clenching around his fingers.

“Oh, shit!” She gasps and claps a hand over her mouth.

Harry waits for her to finish riding for him to pull his fingers out. She watches as he sucks them into his mouth, and hers falls open. She blinks tears away.

“Are you crying?” He runs a thumb under one of her eyes.

“I just…um…that was intense is all.”

“Do you wanna keep going?”

“Yes.” She props herself up on her elbows. “Do you want me to, uh, return the favor?”

“Maybe another time.” He stands up and pulls his joggers down. “I really just wanna fuck you, if that’s alright.”

“Mhm.” She smiles. Wow, we haven’t even finished yet and he’s already talking about another time. She thinks to herself.

She watches as Harry slowly takes his boxers off. Her eyes grow wide when she see it. It was big, and thick. Suddenly her mouth felt dry. He grabs a condom from his desk and rolls it on with ease. He gets back on the bed, between her legs.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes, Harry, I want you.”

He smiles and kisses her quick. He looks down so he can line himself up with her dripping center. He slowly presses his tip in, and she can already feel him stretching her out. He accidentally slides in a little fast, though.

“Holy shit!” She moans loudly, and he presses his hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wild looking up at him.

“I know, okay, I know, but if you wanna do this you need to stay fucking quiet. I don’t want them to hear. Can you do that f’me, Y/N?” She nods her head yes, and he takes his hand away. “I didn’t mean to just shove it in like that, m’sorry.”

“S’okay, it felt good.” She giggles. He looks down between them.

“S’really snug…you’re so tight.” His words make her clench around him. “Can I move?”

“Please.”

Harry pulls out slightly and thrusts back in, and eventually he found a pace that suited the both of them. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, and hooks his arm under one of her legs, while her other leg was wrapped around his waist. Her nails were digging into his back, and it all just felt so fucking good. Her face was hidden in her shoulder to keep her moans and cries muffled.

“Takin’ it so well, Y/N.” He peppers kisses to her sweaty forehead. He drops her leg and uses both of his arms to prop himself up so he could really give it to her. The bed was shaking, but it wasn’t making much noise. “How’s it feel?”

“So good, so fucking good.”

“Yeah? Like havin’ me in you like this?”

“Yes!” She gasps as he hits her g-spot. “Oh my god.” She says shocked and then looks up at him. “Do…do that again.” He gives her another thrust right on the spot and her eyes roll into the back of her head.

“You’ve never come vaginally before, have you?” He grins.

“No.”

“Oh, baby…hold on tight.”

She grips his shoulders while he hits the spot over and over. Her teeth were clenched, trying so very hard not to make much noise, but when he hits it just right again, she lets go and cries out. Harry crashes his mouth to hers to swallow it best he can. She was writhing beneath him, having never had orgasm so strong before. Harry can’t last much longer after that, and spills into the condom. He collapses on top of her for a moment or two, just trying to catch his breath. He slowly pulls out of her and she winces.

��Sorry.” He whispers. “You…might be a little sore.”

“A little?” She scoffs. “I can’t believe you fit that whole thing inside of me.” She sits up and grabs her shirt. When she stands her legs feel like jello.

“Where are you goin’?”

“I have to pee, you went down on me, I’m not gonna risk getting a UTI. Just get into my bed, I’ll be back in a second.” He smiles and nods. He was happy she wanted to cuddle.

It stung when she went to the bathroom like she figured it would. She was thankful Liv and Chris didn’t seem to be awake. She fills a glass of water and brings it up with her. She takes a sip and hands it to Harry as she climbs into bed. He takes generous sip and hands it back to her to finish. He puts it on her desk when she’s done. They both sink down and she lays her head on his chest.

“How do you feel?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“Good, how do you feel?”

“Good…didn’t realize there was that much tension between us.” He chuckles.

“Harry, I don’t wanna be one of those girls, but what’s supposed to happen next…”

“We’re gonna cuddle and go to sleep like we usually do. Then tomorrow you’re gonna ace your midterms.”

“And after that?” She looks up at him, and he looks down at her.

“I think I only wanna be a one woman kinda guy…” She smiles up at him. “Would you wanna try going out on a date?”

“There’s a free skate happening down at the ice arena on Saturday night…any interest?”

“No interest in doin’ anything tomorrow?”

“Someone’s a bit eager.” She smirks.

“Alright, ice skating actually sounds good for Saturday. I have a couple of midterms tomorrow too that are gonna take a lot outa me.”

“How about pizza and a movie tomorrow night then?”

“Oh, I like the sound of that.” He kisses her hair line. “What should we do about Chris and Liv?”

“Let’s see how a couple of dates go before we tell them anything.”

“Good idea, although, I’m sure they probably heard you.”

“I wasn’t that loud, and it wasn’t my fault if I was.” She swats at his chest.

“True.” He looks over at his bed. “This could work really well. Use my bed for the fucking, and then we have your nice comfy bed for sleepin’.”

“Yeah, and then there’s no gross wet spot to worry about.” She giggles, and he bursts out laughing.

“I didn’t hurt you or anything did?”

“No, not at all. It felt really good the whole time, I promise. It hurt when I went to the bathroom though.”

“M’sorry.” He sighs. “You were so tight, I didn’t really know how to be any gentler than I was.”

“It’s okay, really. You took really good care of me. I feel way more relaxed now. I think you were right about me just needing to de-stress before my exams.”

The two end up falling asleep, and it’s a miracle Y/N hears her alarm go off the next morning. Harry knew Chris and Liv would be gone already since they both have 8AM’s, so he gets up with Y/N to take a shower. They didn’t do anything sexual, but it certainly was an intimate shower. She thought about him all day, everything from last night replaying over and over in her mind. It was a wonder she could concentrate during her exams.

She orders the pizza when she gets in later and sets up the movie. She bumps into Liv after freshening up upstairs.

“Hey, haven’t see you all day. How’d your midterms go?” Liv asks, about to take a slice of pizza.

“That’s not for you!” Y/N yelps. “And they went fine, Harry, uh, helped me study last night.”

“Oh, good! And who’s it for?”

“It’s, um, for Harry, as a thank you for him staying in to help me last night.”

“Um, okay?”

“Sorry…in fact, I’m gonna go put it on his bed so no one touches it. What are you and Chris doing tonight?”

“We were gonna go to Charlotte’s place. Do you wanna come?”

“Nah, I’m exhausted, I’m gonna stay in, but thanks.”

Y/N: I’m bringing the pizza up to our room, I think we should watch the movie up here too…

Harry: are chris and liv home??

Y/N: for now, but I think they’re going out. I just don’t want them snooping

Harry: good call…I’ll be home soon btw, just finished one of my graphic design exams

Y/N: Yay!

Harry gets in, and goes right upstairs. He locks the door behind him. Y/N was sitting on his bed with her laptop and the box of pizza.

“Hey.” You smile.

“Hi.” He smiles back. “That still warm?”

“Mhm.”

“Think it’ll stay that way?” He asks, taking his shirt off.

“I guess we’ll find out.” She sets it on his desk, along with her laptop.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day.” He says, leaning down to kiss her. She lays back on the bed so he can get on top of her.

“Really?” He hums his response as he kisses on her neck. “I thought about you too.” He yanks her shirt up over her breasts and kisses on them. “Harry, I really wanna do this again, but I’m…too sore…” She sighs and he sits up. “But…maybe now I could return the favor.”

“Yeh wanna suck me off, baby?”

“Mhm.”

After one hell of a blowjob, Harry and Y/N cuddle up and crack open the pizza that was waiting to be eaten, and they start their movie.

“How do you think your exams went?” He asks.

“Good, I think I did really well. What about yours?”

“Piece of cake.” He scoffs. “Graphic design is so easy, I don’t know why Chris complains about it all the time.”

“He’s just not as creative as you are. I wish you’d hang more of your paintings up…”

“Really? I have some down at the studio I could bring home.”

“Please! I’d love it, and I’m not just saying that, I think you’re genuinely talented.”

“Thanks.” He kisses her temple.

“I have to say, I was nervous having a guy I barley know as a roommate this year, but it’s worked out way better than I ever could’ve imagined.” They both giggle.

“Mm, I’m sure your parents will be thrilled when they found out their fears came true.”

“God, I can’t even think about that.” She takes a bite of pizza. “I was gonna ask you to come home for Thanksgiving before all this happened, but now maybe that wouldn’t be such a great idea.”

“You were?” He gives her a thoughtful smile.

“Yeah…I didn’t know what you normally did.”

“I usually stay here and eat shitty food at the dining hall. I’d come home with you.”

“You would?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “We’re tryin’ somethin’ new between us, but at the core we’re still friends right?”

“Yeah.”

“So then I’d love to come home with you for Thanksgiving either way, and I think it’s very nice of you to think of me.” He takes a bite of pizza. “Plus, then I can see if your family likes me at all.”

“Good point.” She puts the pizza box on the desk and nestles in closer to him. She looks up at him and puckers her lips. He happily gives her a kiss. “I like you, Harry.”

“I like you too.”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles smut #college!Harry #uni!Harry

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years ago

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Scenario: (Reverse AU) Game character MC is also the exchange student

for context here is the HC post I made with the [Reverse AU]

//hehe i’m pretty happy you all liked that post so much-- biggest uwus-- but tbh I had really hard time trying to title this LMAO

Lucifer

Tries really hard to act cool with it-- he really does

The moment you are summoned into the Devildom he has to turn away and compose himself before giving his spiel/introduction about the exchange program, how it’s a year, how you’ll live in the House of Lamentation-- (oh fuck oh god you’re going to be LIVING with them?)

On the outside he is composed

In fact he’d rather die than reveal to you that he’s not okay that you look AND act like the character he was deeply invested in the game

His brothers definitely know though, so any point he shows weakness they WILL pounce on it and tease him about it by hinting to you about your game-character look-alike

He doesn’t really seek your attention (like canon) mainly because he keeps getting nudged by Diavolo into interacting with you (“don’t they look familiar, lucifer?” and “why don’t you get to know the exchange student more, lucifer :^))))))”)

In comparison to canon, probably treats you a lot nicer just by default-- coddling to the MAX (what can I say he plays favorites)

Can’t bring it in him to really get mad, buys you gifts to leave at your door for your hard work as an exchange student-- but literally everyone else knows he’s spoiling you

anything cute you do KOs him and he has to compose himself with breathing exercise lmaooo

Mammon

Basically this [post]

SIIIIIIIIMP

Considering the type of money he blew on the game, the fact that you’re real means that the money will now be pooled to you instead of game-character you

When you got summoned and you called him over the phone, he legit thought it was a game call??? And was so confused because why did you mention Lucifer

When he comes and complains, he legit shuts up so quick when he sees you because (wheeze) is that-- is that really--

“Mammon, you’re going to take care of all their needs here during their stay--”

“NO PROBLEM”

He’s so sweet towards you and takes his role to take care of all your needs very seriously

You’re craving something? He’s got it. You need to buy something? Say no more. Avatar of Greed is here for you baby

You have no clue why he’s being so nice to you, but you think he’s the nicest demon and person you’ve ever met

Like usual, protective over you and sticks by your side-- so really, has much changed? He’s been putty in your hands since the minute he laid eyes on you

He’s not too careful about keeping the fact that you look like a game character though so when you ask him about it he freezes and stammers through an explanation (you think the game is funny though)

Levi

SIIIIIIIIIMP

Sees you and immediately freezes, turns around and goes back into his room to freak

It’s literally a dream come true?? To have a game/anime character be real????

Peeks and looks at you again to confirm your name, how you act, and what you look like

He’s the embodiment of “Un-Follow Me Now, This Is Gonna Be the Only Thing I Tweet About for The Next Week.”

He makes fan cams of you alsdfkjaslfjksjf and admires you from a far for a while

He’s a little afraid to approach you because what if you don’t like him?

Kinda adorable when you approach him because he’s soooo shy

Tries really hard so that you’ll like him-- not that he really NEEDS to because you’d like him even if he wasn’t extra sweet-- but he’s convinced he needs to bring his A-game at all times

Remember what he did during the otome game chapter? He’s your husbando, baby, and he made your bento with LOVE

Probably still plays the game for a while but honestly getting to know you organically is 100x better than seeing you through a screen

Is a Complete Mess whenever you do something cute or wear cosplay-- how do you breathe again???

Satan

The only one that’s not a mess that was highly invested into the game

He’s surprised-- of course-- when he sees you summoned in the Devildom because what a coincidence to see someone look exactly like his favorite character in the game

Then you acted exactly like the character and had the same name and he had to take a little breather because his heart was beating so fast (be cool, Satan)

Legit wants to throw hands with Lucifer there and then when he gets a roast-y introduction from him

Spends the rest of his time from then on being courteous and sweet and trying to make the best impression possible without being too extra (lookin’ at his other brothers cough)

Invites you to places and hang out with him like in canon and treats you normally best

Gets you gifts that he knew your game character liked in-game just to test to see if you really are like the character

Becomes a little secret experiment for him to see what the similarities are and if there are any differences because it’s honestly just really funny for him to see how alike the two of you are (and if Simeon is behind it just like how he is with TSL)

He’s all chill until you dress up in cat-ears for some school event and he can’t even look at you without getting heart palpitations

Asmodeus

“Ohhhhh wow!! You know, you look suuuuper similar to this one character--”

Has absolutely no qualms with revealing that you look like a character in a game he plays and gushing about you and the character

tbh ofc he’s the only brother who has the finesse to make this revelation casual and no-big-deal because he wasn’t very invested in the game but he played the game enough to have you as a favorite

Right from the get-go is very friendly towards you and wants to get to know you better

He wasn’t very invested into the game in the first place, but you BET he’s gonna drag you to his room to dress you in cute clothing

He can’t unlock all of the game-costumes or your cute cards, but having you give him a mini fashion show is way easier and a lot better in his opinion

And the fact that you’re real and he can touch you? Ugh, say no more

He’s a very tactile, touchy person so being able to hug you and give you affection is making this 100x better than just gushing about game-character you

You are on his Devlilgram ALL the time-- and takes a bunch of pics with the two of you together in all the possible poses and filters he can find; he can’t get enough of you!

Beelzebub

Considering how little he invested into the game, he probably doesn’t even realize the similarities between you and the game-character you for a long time

His brothers probably have to bring it up for him to realize

“Beel, don’t you think they look exactly like the game character?”

“...............oh.”

He probably starts asking questions about you just to check if you really are the game character that everyone is talking about

You don’t even know why he’s asking you what your favorite food is or what is your opinion on summer festivals-- but you feel kinda happy because he’s asking so much about you

Does eventually tell you about the game and seriously talks to you about you being a game character but that he’s liked you regardless anyways

Honestly… doesn’t treat you that differently ngl he was already sweet to you from the beginning (after he, you know, gets over his food getting eaten)

Belphegor

He’s REALLY confused when he sees you as the exchange student

Thinks he’s still asleep and dreaming for a hot second because there’s no way that his favorite game character would actually manifest in reality

Then you talk to him and he’s like “..................oh.” (twinssss)

Lowkey gets more invested into the game after seeing you because if that’s not a sign he’s going to get the next UR he doesn’t know WHAT is

Definitely asks you if you can dance (yknow for the dance battles)

A little shy at first, mainly because he doesn’t know how to react, but once he warms up to you, treats you as normal

This is all assuming he is NOT IN THE ATTIC

If he IS STUCK IN THE ATTIC, the first time he sees you walk up the attic andn find him is like a fever dream and he thought he just manifested you because he was desperate

A little paranoid that this is just a hallucination or a trick of his mind-- because go figure he’d go insane being stuck in the attic and being addicted to this game

Definitely soften his tone when talking to you and a little weirded out that you’re the exchange student

You have a high chance of NOT dying by his hands because he has a soft spot for you and getting to know you :)

#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me reverse au

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urnooboo · 4 years ago

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LIFELINES AND LEGACIES - A D&D inspired TS4 Legacy Challenge

By me, @urnooboo!

Even though I’m not active, I wanted to start another legacy challenge, but I didn’t want to do a normal one. Since my friends and I play D&D and love it, why not take inspiration from there? And so here is the culmination of that little brainstorm! It’s my first time making a challenge like this, so hopefully it won’t be that bad. :D It’s a legacy challenge based on the Dungeons and Dragons classes!

If you want to try this challenge out, please use the tags #L&L challenge or #ts4 L&L ! I’d really appreciate it if anyone tries this out just for fun!

Bit of a warning, this challenge gets a bit chaotic in the middle because...honestly, I dunno,,,,

Rules and requirements under the cut!!

Pack Requirements: All the EPs and GPs except for Star Wars (ew), but you can always skip some requirements if you don’t have the packs for them

You can choose to do this on normal lifespan, but playing on long is allowed too.

So, how do you want to do this?

GENERATION 1: Fighter

You don’t have much right now, but you’re determined to build yourself from the ground up and start a family. You have a strong will to fight when needed and you’re quite athletic. You don’t have to be completely alone at the start of this journey, however, and a long time best friend of yours can be part of your party.

RULES:

Must have Active trait

Fight/”Friendly Spar” with at least 3 different sims and 1 occult sim

Complete Successful Lineage aspiration

Starting funds must be less than 20,000 simoleons after buying a house

Get a job in either the Fitness career or the Military career

OPTIONAL: Can have another sim in the household when starting out, and must be friends with them. They can be your family, childhood friend,existing lover, or just some random roommate. (Also yes, you’re allowed to romance them. Unless if they’re your family, yikes)

GENERATION 2: Druid

Your family may not have had the best financial state starting out, but you don’t let things like money phase you. You’ve always loved nature and going out, and dreamed of wanting to do more for the environment as an adult. You like to take things a bit slowly, and love to lounge around.

RULES:

Must have Vegetarian, Lazy, and Loves Outdoors traits

Lot must be off-the-grid

Have a green eco footprint

Marry in adulthood instead of young adulthood

Meet and become friends with the hermit in Granite Falls

Max out the Gardening skill and grow your own food

Optional: You must only have one lover and you must woo them with bees

GENERATION 3: Artificer

You’re dissatisfied at how your family lounges around most of the time, and you’re quite the workaholic compared to them. Your career is your life, and you happen to be both ambitious and gifted. Though you love your child but you have absolutely no idea how to be a parent. So you might end up being a bit of a helicopter parent…

RULES:

Must have Ambitious and Genius traits

Graduate college on a scholarship

Get a job in the Scientist career

Have at least level 6 Robotics skill

Have only one child, born from a one night stand/fling

Never get married

Only do strict parenting interactions with your child

OPTIONAL: Complete the element collection

GENERATION 4: Wizard

You grew up in a house with high expectations, and always wanted to please your family. You worked hard in your studies and in the end- it paid off. But at the cost of you not having much of a social life. However, that really isn’t your priority. Instead, you chose to start learning the magic arts, enthralled by its mystic ways. You were always good at school, so why not start getting good at magic now? As long as you put your mind to it, it shouldn’t be that hard...right?

RULES:

Must have Perfectionist and Loner traits

Have less than 5 friends

Must finish Whiz Kid child aspiration

Become an “A” student in both grade school and high school

Must have “Responsible” trait when you reach Young Adulthood (via high responsibility value)

Graduate college with a distinguished degree

Become a spellcaster

OPTIONAL: Take the teaching or doctor career

GENERATION 5: Sorcerer

You were born with a magical bloodline, and you love to show it off. You want the whole world to see that you’re a cool prodigal spellcaster. You’re the complete opposite of your parent; loud, outgoing, quick to make friends. You’ve even developed a knack for acting in order to impress people, and you dream of becoming a famous star in order to show those who wronged you before that you’re the best thing on earth.

RULES:

Must have Self-Absorbed and Erratic trait

Must have weak bloodline trait from parent and become a spellcaster

Reach the Adept, Master, or Virtuoso rank

Become at least a B-Lister

Get to level 7 of the Actor career

Have some sort of rival

Must have “Good Manners” trait when reaching Young Adulthood (via high manners value)

Must have good reputation

Optional: Be the leader of a popular club and have the Insider trait

GENERATION 6: Bard

You’ve got it all. Rich and famous family, a magical bloodline, musical skill, lots of friends...but something inside you just feels...missing. Thanks to this, you started going around looking for lovers, carelessly tossing aside those who happened to not meet your indecisive standards. It would probably take you years before you calm down and settle with someone you truly care about, but all the heartbreak you’ve caused before that is quite impressive, to say the least.

RULES:

Must have Romantic, Music Lover and Non-Committal traits

This sim has to be the hottest generation. Go all out yo!!!!

Must have strong bloodline trait but cannot be a spellcaster

Complete the Serial Romantic Aspiration

Work in the Entertainer career as a musician

Have as many affairs as you want and have illegitimate kids BUT…

Your heir must be the result of an affair with an occult sim that isn’t a spellcaster. See rules for next generation below

OPTIONAL: Only get married in late adulthood or elder life stage. You can’t have kids with this person.

GENERATION 7: Warlock

You never really had a close relationship with your “famous” parent, and spent more time with your occult family, making you pretty close with each other. Your half siblings don’t like you because you inherited a part of your famous parent’s fortune, despite being...you know...a paranormal freak? To get around this, you developed quite a skillful tongue, and you know your way around words. Now you’re looking for someone to get some more money from...

RULES:

Must have bloodline trait AND be part of an occult race that isn't a spellcaster. Like, you could be a mermaid, vampire, or alien with the bloodline trait, or even a half alien or half vampire.

Have a high relationship with your occult parent

Reach level 10 charisma skill and get yourself a sugar daddy/mommy. :D

Now, your path for this generation will differ depending on whether your parent is an alien, vampire, or mermaid, and is based on some of the D&D warlock patrons. However, this divergence is completely optional. and you can just focus on finding a sugar daddy/mommy only

ALIEN PARENT (Great Old One patron) You can be either a full alien or half alien for this one.

Get a job in the Astronaut career and visit Sixam

Max out your Logic skill

If you’re a full alien, memory wipe at least one person who you had a high relationship with if they find out you’re an alien.

Must have Insensitive trait when you reach Young Adulthood (comes from having low empathy)

VAMPIRE PARENT (Undying patron) You can be either a full vampire or half-vampire for this one.

Max out your vampire lore skill

Own a cowplant for as long as possible

If full vampire, turn at least one person into a vampire

Become friends with the Grim Reaper, by any means necessary :)

MERMAID PARENT (Kraken/Lurker in the Deep patron) (UA) You can only be a full mermaid for this one.

Max out your fishing skill

Try to have one child with Sulani Mana trait

Collect 5 rare fishes

Die from polar bear plunge (jumping into a pool outside when it’s freezing cold)

GENERATION 8: Cleric

The generation before was…chaotic, to say the least. You may have occult blood in you but you’re gonna try to set things straight for future generations. How are you gonna do that? BY GETTING RICH, OF COURSE! SPREAD THE WORD OF CAPITALISM AROUND BY STARTING YOUR OWN RETAIL STORE! Or a restaurant, that works too. The most prominent thing that you’ve inherited from your parents is your love of money, and you’re constantly coming up with schemes to get more. Gods may not exist in The Sims, but you might as well worship something that’s powerful. And money is power.

RULES:

Must have Materialistic trait

Have a job in the Business career, Politics career, or Civil Designer career (Civic Planner) and bop bop bop, bop to the top

Own at least one retail store/restaurant with a rating of at least three stars

Complete the Fabulously Wealthy Aspiration

Eventually move to a penthouse OR one of the big apartments in the business district in San Myshuno

Have only one child

Fall in love with someone from work, then divorce them after having a fight

GENERATION 9: Paladin

Despite the unique circumstances that happened before your birth, you grew up...pretty normal. There’s not much to say about you since your magical bloodline and occult genes are probably dwindling from here, and sooner or later your family legacy will go back to being humans. You’ve always wanted to protect this world and be the one to bring justice to it, so you take up a job in the police force. You and your lover unfortunately had a kid, and even though your lover may have wanted it deep down you actually hate kids. You’ve heard about strange events going on in a town called Strangerville, and you’ve been itching to investigate…

RULES:

Must be close with Generation 8 sim

Must have Hates Children trait

Have a job in the Police career

Complete the Strangerville Aspiration and become the Hero of Strangerville

Have the “Mediator” trait when reaching Young Adulthood (from high conflict resolution)

Stay in the penthouse/apartment your parent got

OPTIONAL: Complete the “Rambunctious Scamp” child aspiration and get “Physically Gifted” trait

GENERATION 10: Rogue

Ironically, despite your upbringing, you ended up becoming a deviant that has constant run-ins with the law. Your relationship with your family isn’t great, but you’re determined to make a name for yourself as a slippery troublemaker. Your true dream however, is to find your one true lover, since you’re a secret hopeless romantic. Your flirting skills are laughable though, and you tense up whenever you have to do something romantic. How are you gonna find love like this?

RULES:

Have bad relationship with Generation 9 sim

Must have Kleptomaniac, Gloomy, and Unflirty traits

Reach the top of the criminal career

Complete both the Soulmate aspiration

Whenever you visit another sim’s lot, steal something from their house

Have up to two exes before finally settling on the one you wanna marry

Get friendzoned at least once

Move out of your parents’ penthouse/apartment and into a small 20x15 lot

OPTIONAL: Have negative reputation

OPTIONAL: Be BFFs with your other parent

You can end the challenge here, but there are still some more D&D classes left to do, so here they are, the optional generations!

GENERATION 11: Barbarian

You take after your parent a lot, and you’re skilled in making people absolutely hate you. Your emotions are just as stable as Philippine wifi, and you have this terrible habit of getting into fights a lot. But just because people don’t like you doesn’t mean you can’t go out and have fun. In fact, you’re quite infamous for going out to parties and starting bar fights.

RULES:

Must have Hot-headed and Mean traits

Must have “Uncontrolled Emotions” trait when aging up into Young Adulthood (from low emotional control)

Fight as many people as possible, make lots of enemies

Throw a lot of parties and go to lots of bar nights and events

Complete Public Enemy aspiration

OPTIONAL: Die from cardiac arrest

GENERATION 12: Monk

For someone with a public nuisance for a parent, you’re pretty chill. You love to make stuff, and your way of life is quite tranquil, to say the least. You’re handy and artistic, and love to do things yourself, even if it does give off the impression that you’re super cheap. You’ve always got a gift for someone during christmas, and your inventory is full of stuff that you’ve made, or components to make stuff with. The world is cool with you, and you’re cool with the world. You’re not the type of person who could hold down a regular job though...

RULES:

Max out the Wellness skill

Must have Maker trait

Be at least level 4 in the all following skills: Handiness, Fabrication, Painting, Writing, Flower Arranging, and any instrument skill. (Also Knitting, if you have it)

Always change jobs when you reach level 4 in them, and your only truly stable source of income is from selling the stuff you’ve made

Live on an off-the-grid lot, preferably somewhere near the water or near a forest

Have twins for kids and only those twins (you can cheat to get this ahhaha)

Elope only, cause weddings aint your style

Explore Selvadorada with your family at least once

GENERATION 13: Ranger

After you and your family went on a vacation to Selvadorada, you decided that you’d travel the world, no matter what! Your twin sibling was originally gonna help you complete this dream, but unfortunately they died due to mysterious circumstances. While you mourned away your sorrows, you came across a stray animal that reminded you of your late sibling and decided to take it in. Once you got yourself together out of your slump, you decided to pack your bags and start travelling around the world for realsies.

RULES:

Be BFFs with your twin

Twin sibling must die during their teenage/early young adult years

Adopt at least one pet after that (yeah, you can have more)

Complete Friend of the Animals aspiration

Visit all the vacation worlds at least once in your lifetime

Discover all the secret lots except Sixam

Visit at least one lot in each normal world with your pet

Move household at least once

Don’t have children

And that’s it! I hope you guys enjoy this challenge!! I’ll try to play this too, though I might be even more inactive since school is finally starting hnnng you guys are free to tweak some requirements to better suit your gameplay so just have fun and enjoy!!!

#ts4 L&L #L&L challenge #ts4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy challenge #the sims 4 legacy challenge #legacy challenge #ts4 challenge #sims 4 challenge #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #s4 legacy #s4 legacy challenge #legacy gameplay #ts4 challenge prompt #ts4 prompt

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