#he's so slow most of the time and just sleeps
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moonstruckme · 2 days ago
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MAE I'm sorry, I thought of another (no pressure at all of course). maybe hot cocoa - send a character + a prompt with Spencer Reid and reunion? Maybe Spencer wasn't supposed to be home in time for the holidays and surprises his love??? AH so cute ok sorry I'll retreat back into my cave now thanks love you byeeee
Never ever be sorry lovely!! Thanks for your request <3
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 465 words
You set your keys on the counter when you come in, your cheeks tingling pleasantly from the change of the cold wind to your warm home. You’re carrying a small bag of presents which you set down next to your keys before taking off your shoes. It takes you a few seconds to realize something isn’t the way you left it a few hours ago. 
The Christmas tree is lit, its warm glow emanating from the living room and casting hazy shadows on the walls. 
You don’t proceed with as much caution as a woman who’s expected to be alone in her home likely should. You know Spencer and most anyone from his team would crow at you for leaving your mace with your keys by the door; but really, what creature of malintent plugs in the Christmas tree? You find Spencer sleeping on the couch, shoes nowhere to be seen but still in his work clothes. 
The smile that takes you is ginormous. He looks especially lovely. The gentle glow of the lights makes the curves of his face look soft and sweet, cherubic almost, but you’d be just as happy to see him if he were rough and grimy and frowning in his sleep. 
“Spence,” you murmur, crouching beside him. You touch his shoulder gently. “Spencer.” 
His eyes move under his eyelids before they open, settling blearily on you. “Hi.” His voice is rough but tilts up with pleasure. He blinks his way into the world. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to doze off.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” you say, beaming. “What’re you doing here? What about the case?” 
“We, uh…” Spencer sits up, rubbing his face. “We solved it. They haven’t caught the guy yet, but I’m never as helpful with that part as Morgan or JJ anyway. I wanted to be with you.” 
Your cheeks are starting to hurt. You hug him fiercely. It’s awkward and half sideways, but full of more love than you can express. Spencer seems to get it. 
“I know how much Christmas means to you,” he says, folding an arm around your back. “I didn’t want to miss it.” 
Whatever he says, you know how much finishing out a case means to him, too. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got here,” you offer. “I’d have come home.” 
“That’s okay, I didn’t want you to cut your celebration short.” Spencer’s pinkie sweeps in slow arcs between your shoulder blades. “We’re together now, right?” 
You let him go to take his face in your hands, thumb denting softly into his cheek to make sure he’s really there. “Yeah,” you say, kissing him. “Thanks for coming home, Spence.” 
“Thanks for having me,” he says, a bit awkwardly. His smile when you laugh is the brightest thing in the room. 
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ariiadnes · 2 days ago
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╭ ⿻ ・ 0713
ଓ.° ・ simon riley. call of duty. family fic -- simon and reader have a daughter. may as well make this an unofficial series ~( TロT)σ every day i am victim to the delusions !!
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when you first met simon, you quite honestly did not think you'd end up having such a domestic life with him. you've known each other for a long while, been together for less. you've seen each other go through hell and back, worry for each other's safety and return, and here you are now, with a daughter that is exactly like him.
kind of. mostly, you'd say.
personality? absolutely. quiet, reserved-- her, mostly in the sense that she's shy. him, in the sense that he just doesn't like talking to people very much. but quiet all the same, you suppose.
appearances? oh, one hundred percent. brown eyes, brown hair. sharp gaze. you don't know how a two year old has a sharp gaze, but she does.
little quirks? you suppress a sigh just thinking about it. wherever you are, simon is. he's practically your shadow-- so what's your daughter? his shadow. so basically, in summary : anywhere you go? have no fear, you will never be alone. ever.
oh, forgot something in the bedroom? just turn around and you'll face-plant into your husband's chest, and when you recover, you'll see your daughter peek out from behind his leg to see what all the ruckus is. oh, you're going to do laundry? forget the television, make it a group effort instead. grocery shopping? no need to split up to make it faster. he's mapped out the most efficient route around the store to knock out this trip in less than an hour.
yeah. they're weird. but you love them, so it's okay.
you'd like to think that nothing surprises you at this point, until today -- when you're tending to the house, bright and early, only to see a certain half awake toddler and her dad standing in the living room. you pause for a moment, mildly surprised that she's already up. you don't say anything-- just watching, as they haven't noticed you around the corner of the hallway quite yet.
"papa."
"munchkin."
silence. like, a long silence. your brows furrow, and you can't help but tilt your head in confusion and curiosity as you witness the strange phenomenon that is your family. she closes the distance, looking up at him. and in return, he looks down at her.
and they just stare at each other. in even more silence. for a good few minutes. not a single word exchanged. you're just so confused by this interaction that you're about to speak up, but then she raises her arms, and just like that, he picks her up, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead-- his usual good morning greeting to her, you've come to notice.
you stand there in the hallway, confused as ever, as he walks off to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her. you have no idea what that was. you blink a few times before shaking your head, joining him in the kitchen to help with the morning prep.
-- so naturally, when night comes, the little one is sleeping, and you're laying in bed next to simon, you can't help but ask:
"what the hell happened this morning?"
he pauses at the sudden question.
"you burned the pancakes, dove."
your eye twitches.
"i did fucking not." you roll your eyes, though you don't put up any resistance as he pulls you closer to him, an arm draped over your waist. "i'm talking about your little stare down today. what was that?"
simon stares blankly at the wall in recollection of the event. a moment or two, then a slow shift in his gaze as he looks at you.
"-- just had a bit of a chat."
"...you both said one word each."
"said it was a bit, didn't i?"
oh, insufferable. weird and insufferable. you give him a deadpan stare, in which he returns full on-- and now you're stuck in a silent staring contest with him. as much as you'd love to try and redeem yourself from the losing streak you've maintained all these years, you understand that one : it is midnight, and you would like to not stay up until three in the morning only to lose, and two : you should be realistic and know that you'll never win.
"stop that." you grumble, hand covering his eyes. "she's gonna pick up on that and start staring into people's souls. it'll freak them out."
he chuckles softly, moves your hand away before lacing his fingers with yours, lips gently trailing down your neck. "not a bad thing. instills fear."
"...i would really like you to not encourage our two year old daughter to instill fear into people, simon riley."
a faint hum of acknowledgement and amusement, then another kiss along your jaw, the corner of your mouth, then your lips. he can't help but notice the feeling of your smile despite your disgruntled words, and he thinks he loves you all the more for it.
"i'll consider it, love."
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loganhowlettshousewife · 17 hours ago
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animal
chapter 6
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friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.
warnings: swearing, smut, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected piv, my first time writing smut so i'm sorry if it's horrible
series masterlist │my masterlist
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you’ve known three versions of logan so far. the feral, animalistic version of logan that seems to be at the core of who he is - without any memories, that’s the personality he reverted to, those were the actions he took when controlled only by his baser instincts. then there’s the version of logan you imagine he’s created over the years to deal with his pain, the one that drinks himself stupid and fights against his nature to make others more comfortable, terrified to hurt anyone, terrified that he’ll prove to everyone that he’s a monster.
this version of logan though, the one you see before you now, is as close as you’ve ever gotten to knowing the real him. a person's memories and experiences make them who they are, shape them as a person, and the same can be said for logan. but he’s no longer trying to hide what his mutation makes him, at least not as much as before. he’s not the innocent, loving man you’d brought into your home - you doubt you’ll ever get that exact version of logan back - but he expresses himself in a new way now.
he’s explained to you some of the conditions of his mutation, why he acts the way he does. it makes more sense to you now, why his face is always finding its way to your neck, pressed to the spot where your scent is the most pronounced, mixing your scent with his to mark you. it soothes him, to walk by you and recognise that even when he’s not at your side his presence clings to you.
it’s nice, watching him slowly let his guard down, opening up to you. you’re proud of him every time he mutters something about himself or his past to you, quickly and quietly as though he’s partially hoping you won't hear him.
“i love you,” he says, taking a break from kissing you to breathe the words into the shared air between you.
you smile back at him. the words are as easy as breathing. “i love you too.”
he kisses you again, loving and intimate, a hand going to your waist, gripping onto your flesh tightly as if you’ll vanish if he ever lets go. you’ll have bruises in the shapes of his fingers tomorrow, a reminder of his touch, of the way he worships your body. you part your lips for him, gasping lightly when his grip tightens, giving him free reign to explore your mouth with his tongue.
heat grows in your stomach, wetness flooding between your legs, insistent, and you grind down on his lap, feeling him growing hard underneath you. he’s big, you’ve seen him naked enough times to know, but it feels different with you pressed against him, much more imposing.
“need you,” he groans, fingers sliding under the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts, releasing it to watch it slap your skin. you gasp again and he chases the noise with his mouth, catching it on your lips.
he takes his time pulling your sleep shorts down your legs, reverently. there’s always a strange duality to intimacy with logan. he’s intense in everything he does, taking you apart multiple times a night, his gaze almost predatory as he explores your body. and yet he treats you like a queen, taking his time to make sure you feel good before he ever does anything for himself.
he spreads your legs open with his large hands, kneeling between your legs. he kisses up your thighs, so close to where you want him and you squirm.
“please, lo,” you beg, your hands in his hair.
he starts off slow, a consistent rhythm that has you begging for more, your moans growing breathier and louder until he can no longer control himself, eating you out like a man starved. his beard burns against your thighs, a delicious pain that only makes the pleasure more intense.
he adds one finger, the thick digit brushing against your walls, pressing against the spot inside you that makes you cry out. his fingers are bigger than your own, longer too, and he’s always much more effective at fingering you to an orgasm, able to give you what you need. he always knows what you need.
he adds a second finger, and that paired with the way his tongue drags against your clit, catching on the tip, has the pressure building inside you. 
your orgasm hits you like a wave, a slow crescendo and then you’re falling. you ride his face as you cum, using your grip on his hair to pull him closer to you, feeling his nose bump against your clit as you press your cunt against his mouth. you shudder as you come down from your high and logan pulls away, mouth and beard glistening with you.
he’s still nearly fully dressed, which you find absolutely unfair, so you pull his shirt off, tossing it aside, making quick work of removing the rest of his clothes until he’s gloriously naked. his cock is hard and proud, flushed and straining.
he needs you, and he tells you so, the words echoing between you, the sentiment going straight to your core.
you wrap a hand around his cock, stroking him a few times, running your thumb over the tip to collect the beads of precum and rub it down his shaft. he groans at the feeling, rutting into your hand. usually this is the part where you take him into your mouth, let him fuck your throat until you’re gagging around him and spit dribbles from your lips around his thick cock.
but you want something different today, you want more. you haven’t taken this step yet, you didn’t feel ready before, wanting to wait until you were at a point where your rocky, unlabeled relationship felt solid. now, you couldn’t imagine not being ready to share this step with him, to give him every piece of you, putting your life and your love in his hands and begging him to keep it, keep you.
“lay down,” you order him, letting go of his cock to shove lightly at his chest, not hard enough to actually move him - you’re definitely not strong enough for that - but he goes willingly, and you smile at how quickly he complies.
you’re not usually the one giving orders in the bedroom, but he’s always weak to your whims, regardless of how small or meaningless they might seem. he wants to make you happy, something he’s told you multiple times when you teased him about how willing he was to do anything you asked of him. you could easily make him submit to you in bed if you batted your eyelashes at him and asked nicely.
he watches you with dark, lustful eyes as you crawl over him, straddling his lap, grinding your leaking pussy against his hard cock. you both moan at the feeling of your wetness sliding against his length, at how ready you both are for this.
“i want you inside me,” you say.
“are you sure?” logan asks, breathless. he wants it, you can see how hard he’s fighting not to rut up into you, but he’s holding back. it makes you feel warm all over, the way he cares so deeply about you, never pushing your boundaries, never wanting to push for more than what you’ll allow. it makes you want him even more.
“i’m sure,” you affirm, “don’t think i’ve ever felt more ready for anything, actually.”
you line him up with your entrance and slowly sink down, feeling the stretch with every inch of him. you're thankful he stretched you out with his fingers, but you have to stop to breathe regardless when he’s halfway inside, the sound of your heavy breathing mixing with his own ragged pants as he fights to let you take the time you need.
finally you sink down onto him, a sigh escaping your lips when he’s fully sheathed inside you. you roll your hips to adjust to the feeling and logan growls, low in his throat. 
you lift yourself up halfway before sinking back down, a new rush of heat rolling over you when you hear the way logan groans. he holds onto your waist as you move, helping lift you so you don’t get too tired, but eventually you start to falter, unable to keep up the steady rhythm. you pout as your movements become slower, annoyed at yourself, but logan takes over the moment you can’t, rolling you over onto your back so he’s hovering above you.
you wince at the feeling of him slipping out of you, but as soon as he has you positioned on your back the way he wants you, he’s lining himself up with your hole again, fucking into you hard and fast.
“this okay?” he asks, though you doubt he needs the answer given how you’re whining and writhing underneath him.
his thrusts are relentless, a steady pace that he could probably keep up for days and days. he has wonderful stamina, something you’d learnt the first time you’d made him cum when his cock immediately hardened again in your hand, your eyes widening as you looked up at him. he’d shrugged and smirked as he explained he didn’t have much of a refractory period. “‘least not when i’m with someone as pretty as you,” he’d continued.
he’s using one hand to grope your breasts and the other sneaks down between your legs, rubbing circles over your clit. he’s hitting that perfect spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and you can feel your second orgasm approaching, more intense than the first.
“fuck,” logan grunts, “y’feel so good, so tight.”
he looks wild, fucking into you like this, his eyes roaming over your body like a predator assessing his prey. you feel your stomach twist pleasantly at the thought. he keeps up his pace until you’re coming around him and even as you squeeze around him he doesn’t falter.
“logan!” you scream as he continues, overstimulation bordering on painful.
he grunts and growls, and you grip onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his arms. he moans loud when you accidentally draw blood from the intensity of the hold you have on him. you feel the blood welling against your fingertips and then the strange sensation of his skin stitching itself back together until it's smooth again under your touch.
“gonna breed you,” logan growls, and you babble incoherently in response. you’re not quite sure his words are even penetrating your mind. all you hear is the sound of his voice, the rough timbre of it. “gonna make you mine. my mate.”
“yes, yes logan, please, come inside me. need you!” his thrusts get more erratic as he gets closer to the edge, and then they falter for a moment and he’s coming. hot spurts painting your insides as he keeps fucking into you, shallow thrusts that push his cum deeper, closer to your womb.
he presses a kiss to your stomach, nuzzling his head into the soft flesh there. his breathing is as ragged as yours. you feel completely undone, your mind fuzzy and content, like you could stay right here forever and you’d be perfectly happy.
“that was amazing,” you say.
he looks worried now, eyes narrowing like he’s not quite sure he trusts you to be telling the truth, like what just happened wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.
“you sure?” he asks, “that wasn’t too much?”
“no,” you smile, “i told you, i like when you act like an animal.”
you can feel his cock hardening again inside you, pressing against your walls. he moves his hips so you can feel it shifting with the change in position, at the perfect angle that he knows will make you scream. you watch his lips curl up, a dark smile that matches the darkness in his eyes as he stares at the way you’re trapped underneath him.
“do you?” he says, not a real question. you love when the feral side of him takes control, and you’re watching it happen now, can read what he wants from the look in his eyes.
yeah, you’re in for a long night. and you couldn’t think of anything better.
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“you called me your mate,” you comment much later, feeling sated and boneless with your head resting on logan’s solid chest, feeling it rise and fall along with the steady pace of his breathing.
logan hesitates for a long moment. you can feel him tense underneath you, his muscles freezing in place, the smallest hitch in his breath that you wouldn’t have noticed if not for your close proximity. you don’t mind waiting for him to cycle through his thoughts, the words caught in his throat, seconds ticking by in comfortable silence until his frame relaxes once more and he pulls you in closer.
“i did,” is his only reply. short, succinct, waiting expectantly for your response, your reaction to a term that is distinctly animal-like. it’s also the first time he’s put any sort of label on your relationship, other than calling you “mine”, possessively whispering the word in your ear as if you’ll forget if he doesn’t remind you.
“what does that mean for us?” you ask, tracing patterns on his skin, forming each letter of your name with your index finger, “we’ve never actually said what we are, you know. and i can’t say i know the ‘human’ equivalent of the term mate. does this mean you’re my boyfriend? something else?”
“that’s a childish term,” logan says, lines forming between his brows as he frowns.
you smile, leaning in to kiss away the tension there, feeling the slight sheen of sweat that had formed over his skin while he fucked you, not quite dry yet. you should be getting up to shower, rinsing away the salty layer of sweat from your activities, throwing the ruined bedsheets into the laundry to be replaced by clean ones.
but you’re comfortable where you are now, avoiding the mess you’d made of the sheets by curling up on the other side of the bed, wishing you could push up closer to logan despite the fact that you’re already as close as humanly possible. if only you could crawl into his skin, break past his ribs and settle there, protected where no one else could ever reach you, tucked right against his heart.
“what would you want me to call you then?” you ask.
“for now, nothing,” logan says. in his eyes you see a battle, words and thoughts that you wish you could read, that you hope he’ll one day say aloud. “there isn’t a word that’s enough to describe this. one day i’ll be your husband, but until then, just say you’re mine. my girl.”
“are you proposing to me?” you laugh, eyes bright and smile pulling at your cheeks in a way that’s nearly painful.
“no,” he grunts, “when i propose to you it’ll be much better than this.”
and what else can you do but fall into him? your heart feels like it might burst from the warmth that fills you, threatening to spill out from every cell in your body, too much for anyone to properly handle. it’s on your hands when you use them to hold him down, swinging your leg over his lap so you’re straddled atop of him, kissing him in the hopes that it’s enough to express what words will never be enough to express.
he meets you in the middle, mouth hot and demanding. you’ve never felt more wanted, never felt more loved, like you could take on any struggle the universe may throw at you and be fine because logan’s by your side, always there to catch you. you read the promise on his lips, and the word forever is unspoken but you both hear it anyway.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 days ago
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missing steve rogers hours, need someone to be a gentleman just for an hour. so, on those lines, what’s some of the things steve would do that would make you realise how well you deserve to be treated?
a/n: i will never stop missing him
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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well, he’s literally an old-fashioned guy, so he'd do a bunch of the classics that never go out of style 
like opening doors for you
pulling out your chair for you
he’s a flowers guy. even if it seemed a bit over the top to you in the beginning, as he kept up the habit, the more used to it you got and now it would feel wrong if there wasn’t the last bouquet from him on your dining room table 
holding your hand, both in casual settings, but especially in times of stress. if he’s by your side when something knocks the wind out of you, even just a tiny bit, his hand slides into yours. 
he also fixes your clothes, like tugging a tag back under your collar or picking off lint if he randomly notices 
another thing that he just naturally does that you didn’t know you were missing till you got it was how present he is when you’re together. always actively listening, attention always on you and never half on a phone as the interactions with most of your friends go
on that note, he often surprises you with the random things he remembers you telling him, and when you stare back at him in total shock that he remembers your aunts and uncles names or something random, he just tilts his head and is like “of course i remember.” because his brain clings onto each and every little thing you blabber on about 
i can also imagine him casually pulling you in for a slow dance whenever he’s put on an old record. just a little bit of gentle swaying…cheek to cheek...
also, he always tells you how proud he is of you. no matter if it’s for some big accomplishment or a tiny little thing like you tackling a chore you hate, he always says it. 
another thing he always remembers to say? that he loves you. i might even argue that he was the first one to say it. maybe it was right after he got home from a mission and he just had to spit it...
and lastly, whenever you’re having a bit of an off day, maybe you didn’t sleep well or you’re just feeling blue, he doesn’t hesitate to give you a hand with whatever you need. were you supposed to do the dishes today but suddenly it became too cumbersome of a task? he’s already there scrubbing away even though you didn’t ask, he’s just trying to help you lighten your load.
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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subcultureblues · 23 hours ago
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Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 3
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Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)
1 / 2 / 3
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“I’ll be there in thirty!” Dustin said. He slammed the phone down and dashed to his room to round up his notes.
“Bye mom love you gotta go!” He shouted as he hustled out the door and jumped on his bike. Dustin had just made it out of the suburbs and into town when he spotted a familiar Maroon Beemer in the lot by the Quickie Mart.
Steve was standing beside his car in a fluorescent windbreaker, leaning on the open driver’s side door. He was staring at the bouquet of flowers in his hands like his nose was about to start bleeding.
Dustin slowed.
….He could probably spare a few minutes to see what the hell that was about.
Really, it’s been a while since Dustin made peace with the fact his curiosity would almost invariably get the best of him.
“Hey Steve!” Dustin hollared, dinging his bike bell a few times.
Steve startled, comically jerking to attention. As a thoroughbred jock, Steve could be ever so slightly air-headed at times. But that usually didn’t extend to a total lack of situational awareness.
Steve waved at Dustin as he approached.
“Why are you angry at those flowers?”
“What? I’m not - “ Steve cut himself off with a sigh. He shot the flowers another grimace. “I’m just trying to decide if I’m being a total idiot right now…”
Ah, Dustin realized. Must have pissed off Robin.
“What happened?”
“I fucked up, I think. And flowers, that’s my go-to right? That’s the move. But…” he tapped above his temple with the side of his fist - as if to dislodge the stupid. He rested it there for a second. “I can’t help but think I’m becoming totally neurotic.” He said, vaguely concerned.
“Girls like flowers.” Dustin offered a simple shrug.
“Yeah, girls do.” Steve agreed. Then sighed again, shaking his head distantly.
Jesus, he must be gone bad.
And Dustin likes Robin. More importantly, he liked her for Steve, they were a perfect match. But most importantly of all - if Steve fucks this up, Dustin spends the next who knows how long listening to him complain about his endless strings of unfulfilling dates.
“And red roses? Can’t get more romantic than that, right?” He said, trying to sound encouraging.
“You don’t think they’re… I don’t know. Lame? Christ, what the hell am I even - I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.” Steve groaned, sounding totally defeated. He dragged a hand through his hair, displacing his artfully styled do. And too distracted to even notice? Dustin was very nearly starting to get worried. “Never mind forget it. Just, forget I said anything…”
“Who even is this guy? Your Steve.” Dustin scoffed. “Legendary lady killer of Hawkins High. Remember? You’re great at this.”
““Yeah, that’s different though. I guess... I don’t know.”
“Different how?” Dustin demanded.
“How about because this is important. That’s how!” He said.
“Ok? That’s a good thing, Steve.” Dustin said, which even to his own ears sounded just a little bit demeaning. Maybe he did need to work on his tone…
“Is it? The last time I really thought there might be something there, it was Nancy. So of course, I manage to fuck the whole thing up. Because that’s my thing I guess.” He deflated. Then quietly, as though speaking to himself, he said. “Things were going so good too… I just had to start a stupid - “
He finally looked back up at Dustin. He closed his mouth and the far away look cleared. He shook his head, like was done thinking about it right now. Or at least done talking about it because he said,
“Henderson, what are you doing running around this early anyways?”
“Pft, what are you doing running around this early? You and Eddie. I’m surprised you’re not sleeping off your… illicit activities.”
Steve made a face. “No. Don’t call it that. I - we… called it an early night last night.”
“Figures. I’m headed to Eddie’s right now.”
“Ah...” He muttered to himself. He looked down at the flowers again and his shoulders wilted. Then he chucked them into the the passenger seat.
“Woah, man, careful with those.” Dustin scolded him.
“No, it’s fine. Look, I gotta go pick up Robin soon. We have a shift together later. See you around, man.”
Dustin frowned. Why were adults so goddamn weird? Is Dustin gonna start acting like this in a few years.
“Good luck.” Dustin offered, tilting his head optimistically. Steve just waved him off, still very obviously distracted.
“Yeah, I’ll figure something out.”
Dustin watched him climb into his car. Steve would figure it out. Dustin had faith in that, at least. He could have a thick skull, but give him enough time and eventually he got it together.
Steve drove off and Dustin started pedaling again, in the opposite direction, towards the Forest Hills trailer park.
Dustin was at the trailer almost till dinner time, fine tuning what will soon be the very first one shot, nay the very first D&D session Dustin will ever orchestrate. He can’t help violently oscillating between excited and nauseous, but Eddie’s advice genuinely did provide a solid foundation to work with.
Eddie even assured Dustin he’d act just as shocked as the rest of the party, gasping during the big moments. Stuff like that - even though he knew pretty much every story beat he had planned just from helping Dustin sort it all together.
They were just packing up to leave when the phone rang.
“Shit. Give me a sec. That’s probably Wayne.”
“He’s not at work?”
“A buddie’s house. He got the weekend off.” Eddie said, picking up the receiver.
“Munson’s Mortuary Services. You got the purse, we got the hearse. Are we picking up or dropping off, cause - ” Eddie cut out mid bit. He grimaced, looking back at Dustin. “I - uh, hey. Look this really isn’t a good - “
Dustin was only really half ease dropping as he tried to order his session notes correctly. Eddie was talking quietly for the first time in his life, holding the receiving close to his mouth, which was making it kind of difficult.
“No, it’s fine… I’m serious, it’s fine. Yeah, I’m sorry too…. Well, I was being an asshole. Look this really isn’t a good time…” Eddie glanced back over his shoulder at Dustin. Dustin tried to look busy. “Just, don’t worry about it, seriously…. Yeah. Sure, talk to you later, ok?” Eddie started to move the phone away before bringing it back to his ear.
“This week? I’m not sure… Maybe. I’ve just - I got a lot of stuff going on… I’ll call you… Yeah, bye.”
Eddie hung up, hand lingering on the phone for a long moment.
“Who was that?” Dustin asked, so casually it was probably immediately suspicious.
“Funny how you think I won’t make you walk home.” Eddie said, a bone dry threat. That roughly translated to, it was definitely totally my secret girlfriend. “Pack your shit, dude. I’m calling Wayne so you better be ready to go by the time I’m done.”
It seemed like Eddie took it to heart what Dustin said about them never hanging out anymore. That week, Eddie really seemed to be making an effort to start making time for him again.
And the rest of the party of course.
On Monday, Eddie suggested Hellfire (plus Max!) hit the arcade after school. He didn’t give them any quarters, but that was fine, they had enough loose change to have a good time. They’d just need to plan ahead and bring Steve next time.
After school on Tuesday, Dustin called to see if Eddie wanted to keep working on the one shot. Which he couldn’t cause Corroded Coffin had band practice.
So instead, he invited Dustin tag along. It came with the strict stipulation he kept his mouth shut, his ass glued to the couch, and he not try to touch anything, on pain of a swift and merciless death. But Dustin’s come to understand Eddie’s threats have a lot more to do with his penchant for dramatics than any honest hostility.
Eddie was just heading out the door when Dustin called so he said he’d come grab him from his place on the way to Jeff’s.
Dustin thought for a moment about changing out of his pun-derful shirt but ended up scrapping the idea for time.
He kind of regretted it when Eddie rolled up. Music loud and looking, as always, too cool for school. Summer was still fading, so he was wearing a loose, faded Cult shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had more tattoos than Dustin realized (all of them ugly.). There was a red flannel tied round his waist and he was wearing a thin leather bracelet.
Dustin couldn’t pull off a leather bracelet in a million billion years probably.
“Little mans sitting in on practice tonight.” Eddie announced as they walked into Jared’s garage. He got a scatter of hey’s and what’s up’s.
Dutifully, Dustin belined it for the couch. He sat next to the plastic Halloween skeleton that was already sitting there posed to watch (Dustin was introduced to him as Manny).
Eddie seemed to switch into DM mode, someone had to keep the boys focused and on track.
Dustin sat still and didn’t touch anything, which was easy enough.
But come on, their music was way too awesome for a passive listening experience.
Gareth, Jared, and Jeff seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm. Still, Dustin made sure to keep distractions to a minimum. A reasonable minimum, at least.
“God, you guys are just so - “ Dustin rambled. It had gotten dark outside and they were started to pack up their gear.
“Metal?” Eddie said, winding up his guitar chord with a smile.
“Metal as hell.” Dustin agreed, standing and walking over.
“We’ll make a public menace outta you yet.” Eddie said proudly.
“You can always bring the kid around more during practice.” Jeff said to Eddie. The rest of the band nodded around and shrugged.
“Actually having a live audience every once in a while couldn’t hurt.” Gareth said, nodding his head at Manny. Him and Jeff were dragging his drum kit back into the corner of the room.
“Yeah?” Dustin asked, grinning.
“Maybe you’ll pick up a thing or two.” Eddie grinned back, shoving at him a bit and fucking up Dustin’s hair.
“You’d teach me?” Dustin asked, swatting him away. Eddie shrugged easily.
“Oh man. That’d be so cool!” He said. “Maybe next time I could bring some of the other guys? Oh, and Steve could come too!”
Jared practically choked on his instant laughter.
“The King?” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, sure - you wanna bring King Steve here, to sit on the ratty couch in my garage and listen to us thrash around and scream for a few hours?”
“I dunno, could be pretty entertaining.” Gareth elbowed Jeff, nodding down towards Eddie. He was on his knees, focusing intently on tucking his Warlock away in its hardcase. Gareth leaned in closer and whispered. “He’s getting a little too cocky with those guitar solos, don’t you think? Could use a chance to play under pressure.”
“Oh, that does sound entertaining.” Jeff snickered, just as amused by the prospect.
“Can it.” Eddie said, without looking up.
“Eddie?” Dustin insisted, looking to his DM for backup. They were talking like Steve was gonna march in here and just start heckling. Or throwing tomatoes at them or something.
“Sorry kid, they’re right. He’d probably hate it.” Eddie shrugged.
“Come on, it’ll be cool! I could at least ask? You don’t know he’ll hate it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Steve Harrington would think our heavy metal band is so totally cool.” Jared said flatly, as he leaned over to grab the handle on his bass amp.
“Hey. I saw a Metallica tape in his car the other day!” Dustin said to Jared. Jared’s eyebrows climbed, surprised. Maybe even a little impressed, though clearly too stubborn to admit it.
Dustin turned back to Eddie. He was still expecting him to come to Steve’s defense. But he stayed quiet, barely a part of the conversation. “Come on, I thought you two were friends now.” He accused.
“Sure, Harrington’s fine.” Eddie shrugged.
“Yeah he is.” Jeff muttered under his breath. Gareth puffed up with a badly contained laugh.
Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Right, you blow us all off to go to go smoke weed with him at the drive through, but he’s just fine.”
Jared, who had been bending over to put his amp against the wall, froze in place.
“No fucking way.” Gareth’s head shot up, his eyes blown wide. But it didn’t sound like he was pissed at Eddie for crossing party lines. Not with the massive, disbelieving grin on his face. “You and Harrington? You fucking took him to a drive through?”
“What movie was it?” Jeff shot out, equally delighted.
“Was it a scary movie?” Gareth said. They both scrambled out from behind the drum set, their task wholly forgotten.
“Guys.” Eddie huffed. “Fine. Yeah, ok, we went to go see a movie - So what?”
“And you just, what!? Forgot to mention it?”
“Sure!” Eddie grimaced. He shrugged defensively. “We just - caught a movie. It’s not a big deal.”
Gareth barked out a laugh. Like that, that right there, is the funniest thing Eddie’s ever said.
“Guys.” Jared looked at Jeff and Gareth pointedly, before glancing at Dustin.
“Sorry it’s just…” Jeff paused with his mouth open, incredulous. “Didn’t know you guys hang out now.” He finished. “Ya know, outside the whole - coparenting.”
“We don’t.” Eddie said, tensely.
Dustin frowned as he watched the guys continue to stow their shit. Gareth and Jeff went back to sorting out the drums. “Not a big - “ Gareth scoffed under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.
The rest of the boys were struggling to contain shiteating grins and Eddie was just pretending not to notice.
Dustin had never known these guys to be such… jerks. Why would it be such a big deal if Eddie and Steve were friends?
Could it really be all because they’re just so - different? The idea of hard rocker Eddie kicking back with a jock even once was just patently absurd? Ridiculous enough they jump straight to teasing him for it?
Dustin’s frown deepened. For a bunch of freaks, that all seemed pretty judgmental.
These guys would come around on Steve. Seems like Dustin would just have to make sure of it.
On Thursday Eddie agreed to pick him up from school.
He was late of course, so Will, Mike, Lucas, and Max had all started towards home by then.
When he did roll into the parking lot, it was in a sweeping wave of orchestral heavy metal.
“Pick it up.” He said impatiently, as Dustin opened the door. Eddie evil eyed the school building while he turned down the music. “Don’t like being here any longer than I need to be outside D&D hours.”
Dustin hopped in. He had a VHS copy of Jaws in his hands. He had left it behind at Lucas’ like two weeks ago and promptly forgot about it. A week later Lucas brought it to school and Dustin had only just re-unearthed it from his locker today. It was daunting just thinking of the fees that were sure to be stacking up by now.
His only salvation was Steve. Who’s thankfully working today.
“I need to drop this off at the movie store and before you say no - “
“Sure.” Eddie said, already starting the van.
“I - that was easy.” Dustin sat back and relaxed against the seat.
Eddie kept his eyes on the road and shrugged.
“I was thinking about renting something anyways.”
They drove straight to Family Video. The door dinged as they walked in.
Robin was sitting behind the counter. Still focused on her crossword she said, “Hi, welcome to Family Video, can I help you find - Oh, hey guys.”
“Hi Robin!” Dustin said, walking up to the counter.
Eddie lingered by the displays. He traced a finger over one of the tapes on the shelf. “Harrington, here?” Eddie asked, inspecting the cover.
Robin rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “You just missed him. It was seriously slow today and he won rock/paper/scissors so - he clocked out early for the day.” Eddie hummed and put his hands in his jean pockets.
Dustin handed Robin his VHS tape.
“This is eight days late.” She frowned at the computer.
“So - “ Dustin said, thinking fast to distract her from errant thoughts of late fees. “how’d you like the flowers?”
“Flowers?” Robin scrunched up her nose at him.
“The flowers Steve got you?” Dustin blurted out before he clamped his mouth shut again. She squinted at him. Suspicious.
“What are you on about?”
Shit. Steve hadn’t got those for Robin had he?
“Nevermind.” Mayday-mayday. Pull up!
Hopefully Steve wasn’t too pissed at Dustin for letting that little detail slip. And Dustin could barely feel bad for blowing Steve’s cover because, what the hell Steve?
Robin’s lip twisted. She looked down her nose at him, regarding him uncharitably. He forced a smile as she stared him down for a moment longer. Then her face cleared. Raising her eyebrows innocently she turned back to the monitor.
“So about that fee. That’ll be five fourty-“
“Ok! I - “ Dustin hesitated. Sorry Steve - that was five dollars he really did not have. “I don’t know. I ran into him a few days ago. And he’d just bought a big thing of roses.” Dustin caved, shrugging and holding his palms up defensively.
“Ooooh.” Robin’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile and her gaze slid somewhere behind Dustin shoulder. Then quickly snapped back into place.
“Oh.” Robin said again. She looked baffled, like the implications of that just hit her and clearly didn’t sit with her right.
“Maybe they were for his mom? His parents are in town aren’t they.” Dustin offered.
“You know what? Yeah, that’s probably it.” Robin nodded vigorously. The poor, love struck girl just immediately latching onto the explanation.
“Nah.” Dustin turned around to look at Eddie. He was still feigning intense interest in that copy of An American Werewolf in London. “His mom is allergic to roses.”
“That doesn’t mean he - ” Robin scrambled. “Maybe he just… forgot, or something. I mean, you know Steve. Total ditz.”
He shrugged. “That’s fine isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I mean, yeah.” Robin said cautiously. She seemed confused more than anything.
Eddie said cooly, hands still in his pockets. A perfectly neutral smile on his face. “Steve’s a free agent, right? He’s free to play the field.”
Jeez, did Eddie have to be so blunt? What ever happened to letting a girl down easy?
“Uh…” Robin said, looking between the two of them uncomfortably. Like maybe she didn’t quite know the answer to that anymore but it was also something she really didn’t want to sort out in public.
Dustin honestly felt a little bit bad for her. Sure they both always say they’re not dating, but clearly she seemed none too thrilled at the idea of Steve going around giving another girl flowers.
Dustin had hoped with the way Steve was talking the other day, he had finally got his head out of his ass and was ready to go public and make them official.
“Hey, man, I’ll meet you in the car, yeah?”
“Sure.” Dustin said.
“Eddie - “ Robin said. Eddie looked over his shoulder, lingering half way out the door. Robin glanced at Dustin. “Uh. Bye.” She finished lamely.
He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.
Robin went back to the computer. She worked in complete silence. Suddenly the thick clack of the keyboard and the low murmur of the movie on the screen in the corner were way louder. Her brow was set like it gets when she’s stuck on a troublesome crossword.
“Sorry.” Dustin said, his face twisting up with guilt.
Robin glanced side long at him.
“I can talk to him you know.” He said.
“Huh?”
“I can talk to Steve. He shouldn’t do that to you.”
“Jesus, for the last time. We - are not - dating.” Robin said through gritted teeth. She made a frustrated noise. “Do you have to be so… ergh, meddlesome.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He lied, taking a step back.
“You need to stay out of your friends love lives.”
Yeah well, how about Dustin stops meddling when his friends stop being so dumb about everything. Till then they’ll just have Dustin to thank for sorting out their messes.
Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @aroseandherthorns-blog1 @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369 @rawrx3ky-txt @thespaceantwhowrites @blcksh33p1987
@the-legal-shipper @maverickricky @i-amthepizzaman @pretend-theres-a-name-here @steddiefication @that-one-gay-crow @gleek4twd
@theintrovertedintrovert @tinyplanet95 @queercrisis2003 @awkwardgravity1 @stripey82
@sofadofax @midnightskeeper
@blurryjoji @estrellami-1 @caraspud @little-trash-ghost @finalmoondragon
@samsoble @depressed-freak13
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carbondioxidewater · 24 hours ago
Text
Make A Move (Pt. 5)
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footballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader
genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst
warnings: none so far
word: 3.1
(-> Pt. 1) (-> Pt. 2) (-> Pt. 3) (-> Pt. 4) (-> masterlist)
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On sunday morning, you woke up early, even though you hadn't been sleeping much. The events of the previous day came back to you one after the other. First, you thought about the game and Sukuna's impressive skills in it.
You reflected on the motorcycle ride with him and how he drove you to the Rainbow Bridge just so you could see the city at night. That must've been one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for you. You turned over on your side in your bed, smiling.
And then you remembered how you almost kissed and how he treated you completely different later at the party than when you were alone. A feeling of embarrassment washed over you again at the thought that everyone present had noticed Sukuna not wanting to kiss you. Not that you were dying to feel his soft lips, probably salty from the sweat - no, that wasn't it. Because even if that were the case, it was more the fact of how and why he rejected you that was bothering you.
But asking him was out of the question. After all, you still had enough pride left to not give him that pleasure. After all, he wasn't obliged to kiss you. You shouldn't let anything show, otherwise he might get the wrong idea. And with that mentality, you went to your first lecture on Monday.
After the lecture, you entered the cafeteria. Today they cooked vegetarian pasta again and it always tasted delicious. You grabbed a plate, had it filled up, and walked over to the where the silverware was. As you were putting down your tray, someone spoke up directly from the side.
"I got your message, by the way."
You weren't startled this time.
"Did you know that people usually greet each other before starting a conversation?" you expressed calmly and Sukuna burst out laughing. You always managed to entertain him.
"Sorry, hi princess."
"Hi." you said quietly, a gloomy feeling at the nickname. "What message?"
"Yuji told me he should wish me 'good luck' from you."
"So?"
"Well, I certainly was lucky, after all you really came. But..." he didn't finish his sentence, obviously waiting for your reaction. Was he really trying to flirt with you again? This man was difficult.
You took your tray and moved towards one of the tables. Of course Sukuna followed you and sat down on the opposite chair. You sighed.
"But what, Sukuna? What do you want?" you asked in annoyance.
"You should give me your number. I couldn't even make sure you got home safe on Saturday." he flashed his shiny white teeth at you.
"Why do you care? I went home with my friends." you said, but not snippy, more in a neutral tone.
"I know that." he simply returned and didn't seem to have anything else to say. He just looked at you.
Seriously? He doesn't mention what happened at all? Well, if he can act like nothing happened, so can you.
"I don't like being watched while eating." you said bluntly and Sukuna couldn't help but smile.
"Why, are your table manners so terrible?" he countered. You puffed.
"Aren't you hungry?" you then asked, whereupon he told you that he had already eaten.
"I saw you and with you the opportunity."
"The opportunity for what?" you then questioned.
"Asking you for your number."
"You have my address already, that should be enough."
You would not let him get any closer to you.
He chuckled and you ate the first forkful of pasta.
"So you don't want to give it to me?" he carried on.
"Obviously not."
"Okay, I'll find a way. Oh, and enjoy your meal." he winked at you. And then he stood up and left the table.
Finally you could eat in peace.
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You didn't see him for the next few days, which gave you enough time to concentrate on your studies. It was thursday evening and you had to give in your assignment for neurolinguistics, the due date was today. You quickly finished explaining how the priming effect works, when suddenly Utahime entered your room with the mail in her hand.
"Oh, are you finished for today already?" you asked, referring to her job, to which she nodded.
"But look at this!" she said, astonished, and waved a letter in front of your face.
The letter was addressed to you, but had no sender. Strange.
You opened it and the content was a single sheet of paper with a few lines written on it.
"You're right, your address is enough. If you don't want to give me your number, I'll have to try this way ;)"
Your face immediately heated up, you never thought he would go out of his way like that. But what was he doing that for? What was his ulterior motive?
Utahime saw your shocked face and read the letter. Then she laughed.
"Wow, he's really trying. Have you eaten yet? Should we order something?"
And together, you ended the evening with a juicy pizza.
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But on the next day, you found a note in your locker too. You opened the folded paper and it said:
"Meet me under the bleachers"
Oh God, your heart was pounding. Just what was he thinking?
You decided to meet him at the stands to ask him to stop this whole thing. Even though you were really flattered by the attention, it still hurt your ego that he apparently thought he could win you over like that. Was it working? Maybe a little, but he didn't have to know that. And you definitely wouldn't fall for it any further.
When you finally got there, there was no sign of him. You asked the few players practicing on the field about him.
"Sukuna? No, he's not here. As far as I know he has a philosophy class right now."
Philosophy? You didn't even know that was his second subject. But that explained why he was around you so often, because philosophy and linguistics were taught in the same building. But why did he send you here then? Nothing he did made sense and you were slowly getting fed up with this chaos.
You were just on your way back into the building when all of a sudden, you bumped into someone's back on accident. He turned around and to your surprise, it was the menace himself.
"Careful." he laughed lightly. But you were a bit pissed at him right now and just walked past him. He walked after you.
"Hey, where are you going?" he yelled.
"I don't feel like playing your games. Find someone else to annoy." you said without even looking at him.
He grabbed your wrist and brought you to a stop. When you tried to escape his grip, he blocked you with his arm and caged you in.
"Calm down. What's going on with you?" Sukuna exclaimed.
"No, what's going on with you? Why do you leave those notes in my locker, arrange a meeting and then don't come?"
"That's what it is about?" He chuckled. "Now do you see how complicated it is? If I had your number, you would have known when I wrote the message."
You were flabbergasted, was that really his plan behind all this? To show you the need to exchange numbers?
"Or you can just write the time next time!" you spat out.
"Next time? So you like when I leave you letters?" he smirked and upset you with his presumptuous words.
"Don't twist my words..." you pouted and looked to the side. He let you go now, you had calmed down.
"Then what do you say: We have another game next Friday. If we win, I get your number, if we lose... well, you can choose."
"Why do you want my number so badly?" you probed.
"Because I like you. You're fun to be around."
This confession knocked you off balance, but you swallowed your speechlessness. In the end, two could play that game.
"Okay, if you lose, you'll never ask me for my number again." You smiled mischievously and he followed suit, tilting your chin upwards with his big hand before responding.
"It's settled then."
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You stayed at Shoko's for the weekend, since you wanted to binge-watch the new season of your series. Utahime didn't like the show and had to work anyway, so it was just the two of you tonight.
After a few episodes, however, it turned into a deep talk session. You told Shoko everything that had happened with Sukuna so far and she reprimanded you for getting into this 'pact'.
"His team will win either way, the only ones who would have a chance against them are the UOT." she explained and you thought about her words.
UOT? Of course! They say their quarterback is on par with Sukuna. They are the biggest rivals!
"Are they gonna play against each other too?" you wondered.
"I think not until the very end of the season. That's the most important game after all."
The end of the season... So in about 8 weeks. But wait a minute...
"How do you even know that?" you stared at Shoko in amazement and she looked up at the ceiling.
"A few of my high school friends are on this team. Utahime knows them too."
"What? Why am I only finding out about this now?" you shifted in your seat, grinning at her. She shrugged.
"I never thought it was important. After all, you haven't been interested in football until now."
You nodded. Then your phone rang. You took it from the coffee table and saw that it was Utahime, but before you could even pick up, she already hung up.
"Who was it?" Shoko interrupted and you told her, but you two didn't think much of it.
You thought that maybe she called you on accident, so you sent her a message asking "are you okay?" and checked her location. She was still at the hotel. A few minutes later, she finally replied and confirmed that everything was indeed alright.
"Okay she just replied, she's fine. But next time we're all together, you two have to tell me more about your mysterious old friends." You waggled your eyebrows and Shoko laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, even if there's not really much to tell."
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And then you were back in the stadium, this time, on your campus. It was a home game and the people on the stands were louder than at the last game, but this time you secured yourselves better seats. You were sitting in the front row now!
At the opening, all of the players walked onto the field and turned to the audience. Sukuna waved at the big crowd, his eyes moving from left to right, and finally rested his gaze on you, a small smirk spreading on his face. And then it was kickoff. As always, Sukuna's leading skills ensured a successful first half. It was clear that the team had been a unit for a long time, as well as they complemented each other.
After the first half, there was the usual break and you used it to quickly go use the bathroom. The line was long though, of course you weren't the only one who had to go after such a long time. But luckily, it quickly emptied and after you were done, the break was almost over. While the water was tingling on your hand, you heard a few girls coming in, chattering. You recognized the cheerleaders, one of them was the blonde girl named Manami.
"So, how are things going with Sukuna now?" asked Manami's friend.
At the mention of that name, you became very wary. You felt like you were eavesdropping, but you couldn't turn off your hearing sense after all.
"I think he likes me." Manami said the words dreamily, but you couldn't listen to their conversation any longer, because if you stayed at the sink for too long, you would attract their attention. You dried your hands and then went out the door.
What was their true relationship to each other? She thinks he likes her? What is he doing for her to think that? You had a weird gut feeling on your way back and when your friends noticed, they asked if you were okay. You lied to them and, thank goodness, that feeling disappeared as soon as the second half of the game started again.
And as Shoko predicted, your team won. The others weren't bad by any means, but Sukuna isn't feared in the world of football for nothing. He once again secured a great victory and after the game ended, his teammates all ran towards him to celebrate.
They picked him up and carried him to the front of the stands while you and the others clapped for their success. Many shouted his name, others shouted for the other players, but his grinning, smug look was only on you.
His comrades let him down and the crowd slowly started to leave the stands as Sukuna continued to keep you under his spell. He stepped on a bench in front of it, leaned his elbow on the railing of ​​the stands and pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. He pressed it between his fingers proudly and held it in front of his slightly tilted face, a mischievous smile on it, so that you could make out the numbers on the note.
You narrowed your eyes in an attempt to see more clearly and as the digits became visible, you recognized them as your phone number.
How did he-
You were about to ask him that, but Aoi intervened, jumping onto the bench and putting his arm over Sukuna's shoulder, happily dragging him into the locker room.
When you finally came down the stairs, you decided to wait for Sukuna outside. Your friends were talking about something you didn't pay attention to.
Then the door opened and you walked towards Sukuna expectantly, but he was stopped by Manami at that moment. You saw her putting her arm around his and how she walked to the parking lot with him. That made you abandon the whole plan and you went back home with your girls.
When you got there, you got a message from an unknown number.
unknown number: not even curious how I got your number?
That was definitely Sukuna. Your mood immediately worsened. You just couldn't figure him out. You threw your phone on the bed and made yourself something to eat. Cooking should calm you down, so you put on some music and started chopping. It took half an hour before you got the motivation to text him back.
you: aren't you out with the cheerleader right now?
You sent the message and threw your phone away from you again. Why had you been so direct? You were about to take your phone to delete the message, but Sukuna had already replied.
unknown number: oh you're curious about something else I see. u stalking me? ;)
you: no, I just saw you two together after the game. hope you had fun.
unknown number: yea sure had.
you: good for you.
Somehow the message came across as more bitter than you anticipated, and Sukuna also noticed the harsh tone.
unknown number: wait, you weren't seriously thinking I was after you, were you?
you: of course not? I was being genuine.
You were not. He typed.
unknown number: well then, that's good.
And then you left him on read. Asshole.
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The whole weekend was spent trying to figure Sukuna out, but as much as you tried, his motives remained unclear to you. You even started listing different possibilities together with Shoko and Utahime, but for every idea there was something in Sukuna's behaviour that didn't add up. You set up three theories:
REASON NUMBER ONE: He really just likes you platonically. But then why did he flirt with you sometimes, why did he almost kiss you, why did he put in such an effort into getting your number?
REASON NUMBER TWO: He was just trying to get into your pants. Maybe there was something going on with this girl, Manami, and he didn't want her to find out. But then why did he never make a move on you like that? Apart from the teasing, he's never been disrespectful or dirty towards you.
And, this was the most unlikely one, but,
REASON NUMBER THREE: He had a serious interest in you. But then, why wouldn't he just be straight forward? Why was this girl all over him at all times? And why didn't he do something against it? Or was he keeping the both of you as mere options?
Whatever it was, it was getting on your nerves. And you decided you wanted to make clear to him that the both of you should either be friends or nothing.
You were just taking a few things out of your locker when there was a sudden bang next to you. You took the last book out of it and then looked at the source.
"Boo." Sukuna called out, pressing his lower arm against the locker. He was wearing a simple white sweater with the sleeves rolled up, but it was so tight that it highlighted his broad, big chest. His hand was clenched into a fist, which meant that you had a perfect view of his flexing muscles as well.
You gulped and tried not to let on how attractive that was to you, because you couldn't afford to seem weak in front of him.
"Wow I'm so scared." you commented and closed your locker.
"I bet you are, now that I've got your number." he claimed. Then you faced him.
"Where did you get it from anyway?" you wondered. You still didn't have a single clue.
He smiled wickedly again.
"Why don't you ask your friend Utahime?"
Safe to say that's not what you expected coming out of his mouth.
"You're lying." you doubted.
"Why would I do that?" he replied with a foxy grin.
You took a deep breath.
"Alright, I'm gonna ask her later. But can we stop with the constant banter, it's giving me a headache."
"Oh, why's that?" he came closer, but you pushed him away again.
"It was fun in the beginning, but it's getting annoying now. Let's just be normal friends." you proposed.
"Friends?" Sukuna raised an eyebrow gently, considering your words and quirking a small smile. "You wanna befriend me?" he seemed oddly delighted about that. You didn't know if he was poking fun at you or not.
"Yeah, isn't that what you wanted?" you inquired, dumbfounded by his reaction.
"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Alright, let's be friends then." he stared down at you, a gleam in his eyes that you couldn't make out.
Yes, it would definitely be better to be friends. That way, he wouldn't constantly irritate you with his mixed signals.
And with that, your friendship with the star player began.
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RAHHH he's so confusing!!! Wdym you send me LETTERS to contact me?!?!?! And then say you're not after me? ARGHHH
What do you think his intentions are? As always, reblogs and comments are so so appreciated! I wanna hear your thoughts about it so bad! <3
taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus @silkija @sad-darksoul @joh-ahae @mysteriaqueen @rebirthbunbun @inflatabledinosaurs19
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kikiiswashere · 15 hours ago
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Four to Tango
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As promised, part two of Waltzing for Three!!!
Thank you for helping me reach 200 followers for this little ol' blog of mine 🥰 And welcome to all the newcomers!
The idea for this ficlet was born of watching my bestie @sand-sea-and-fable help out a pregnant friend by lifting her belly off her hips, and it just sort of spiraled from there.
It's also worth noting that I myself am not a mother, nor have I given birth, nor do I wish to be a mom (husband got the ol' snip-snip). So why this fic? Good question 😅
That being said, I did my best to write about the labor process relatively accurately without getting into the super nitty-gritty of it 😂 So, please enjoy this weird little fever-dream of a fic, and please comment and reblog 💗
Tags for the interested parties: @luhmoon, @legendaryflowercheesecake, @thebeserkvernid, @miffysoo
Pairing: Established Silco x AFAB!Reader
Rating: Teen/Mature (brief reference to oral sex)
CW: Non-graphic descriptions of pregnancy and labor
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Insistent cramping had woken you up in the wee-hours one morning, swelling and ebbing in a slow rhythm that sent your heart tapping, a loop of nerves coiling around your gut – little room that there was for it.
Silco had been a terribly light sleeper ever since Vander’s betrayal, ever since those early years on an under-tested Shimmer variant that left his brain unable to fully settle. So, the moment you shifted into a sitting position, he shot up as well.
“What’s wrong?”
Words got gummed up on fear and excitement in your mouth. There was a slight tremor in your fingers as they grazed over your belly. You had noticed it sitting even lower on your hips these past several days. While you were very done with being pregnant, you were still nervous and surprised to say –
“I think it’s time.”
With comical amounts of speed, but awe-inspiring grace, Silco flung himself from the bed, divesting himself of his eyepatch and pajamas. After changing into a simple set of trousers and an old button-up shirt, he fetched the stopwatch Jinx had invented to easily time your contractions, and wrote a tube prompting your midwife that she was needed. It had been decided early on that the babe’s delivery – barring any complications – would happen at The Last Drop. You, nor Silco, were willing to venture outside to a clinic when your family would be at its most vulnerable.
Too nervous to lay down, much less fall back asleep, you began pacing the large bedroom in your large sleep shirt. Every time a contraction locked up and spasmed through your lower belly and back, your fingers pressed the stopwatch’s clicker. And you breathed as the midwife had instructed. Silco kept you company, walking with you up and down the length of the bedroom, holding your hand and becoming an anchor to squeeze when contractions rolled through. Together, you both noted and kept track of their intervals. Their spacing  and length suggested that the little one’s arrival was not imminent, but the consistency indicated that this was indeed labor.
The midwife arrived, ushered in by a half-asleep Sevika. You’d bribed her with an absurd bonus and several pre-paid sessions at Babette’s for her to crash in one of the Drop’s private guest rooms during these last days of your pregnancy. She was needed for security, and to stand-in for Silco when his attention and priorities would be elsewhere.
“Good luck,” she’d grumbled, barely glancing at you before shutting the bedroom door, and trudging back down the hall.
The midwife was a petite, wizened Vastaya who’d been selected for her services not only because of her field prowess, but because she was staunch loyalist to you and Silco. Shimmer had helped save more than one of her clients when the birthing process had begun to go sideways, and that was enough for her to hitch her wagon to your agenda.
She was also direct to the point of rudeness – a personality trait that was wholly welcome given the slippery, hidden, self-serving rhetoric you were used to having to deal with.
“Time?” she asked, setting her medical bag down on your dresser with a heavy thunk.
“Forty-five seconds to a minute, about every seven minutes,” you answered. Then gasped and doubled over as another contraction bent you.
The midwife hummed. “How long?”
“About an hour,” Silco said. He squeezed back at your hand as you rode out the current wave rolling through.
Clucking her tongue, the midwife shook her head, long ears slapping lightly against her horns.
“Early.”
Silco frowned. “You are being more than thoroughly compensated to show up whenever we ask.”
“Indeed. To the bed, miss. Let’s have a look.”
Once your legs were freed from the lock of the contraction, you shuffled to the bed. Silco helped you into position, and the midwife closed in. Her fingers were warm, but the tools were cold. The combination, along with your nerves, caused your lungs to shudder.
“Five,” she declared, drawing her head from between your thighs.
“That’s halfway,” you chuckled weakly. Silco brushed his thumb over your knuckles
The midwife hummed in agreement. “True. But as discussed, this process is not linear. And being your first delivery, it is very likely this will take a while. How is the pain?”
“Fine. Manageable.” It came out as a grit, but she didn’t seem to doubt you.
“You should eat and drink while you can. Is there anything else you want or need right now?”
Together, you and Silco walked to the small kitchen in your private quarters. You rested your forearms on the counter as the length of your spine hammocked behind you, hips gently swishing side-to-side. Silco kept the breakfast blissfully simple: toast with a light slather of butter, and a mug of warmed water with lemon.
Eating was slow going. Between the jitters and contractions, your appetite was seriously curbed. When you finally made it to the second piece of toast, Jinx shuffled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and bed-headed. Her bedraggled demeanor did not last long though, as her whip-quick senses tuned into the energy of the space. Big, blue eyes tracked between Silco – unusually underdressed – and your strange posture. One could nearly hear the cogs in her head clicking and whirring.
“Is it time?!”
In a flash, she clambered onto the stool next to you, bright and tittering. Her exuberance washed over you in a relieving breeze. Reaching over, you ran a hand through her unkempt hair.
“Sure is, kiddo.”
“When will he be here?”
“Could be a while yet, Jinx,” Silco answered. He set a glass of juice in front of her. “What would you like? Toad-in-the-hole? Porridge? Pancakes?”
“Make ‘em have a face!” she crowed.
A hook of a smile pulled at Silco’s mouth as he turned back toward the stove.
Jinx settled onto the stool; legs kicking merrily beneath her as she sipped her juice.
“What does it feel like?”
“Like intense menstrual cramps.”
Her small face squished in a ponder. While you had had that conversation with her, Jinx had yet to broach into that aspect of puberty. Thus, she had no point of reference.
“Kinda like when you roof-run after eating, and your abs cramp up,” you offered. “Kind of.”
A contraction swelled upon you, and you grit your teeth, face pinching, head dropping. Silco stepped away from the stovetop, and placed a grounding hand between your shoulder blades. Jinx watched, eyes wide and worried. Timidly, she shifted toward you, pressing her forehead to your shoulder.
The pain continued, but was temporarily numbed by the overwhelming love and gratitude for the two people on either side of you.
Your family.
It was never part of the plan when it came to your Silco’s ideas to lift Zaun up, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. And in a few hours, three would be four. Your heart beat big, tapping against your throat as the contraction passed. You clicked the stopwatch.
“That seems worse than roof-run cramps,” Jinx said suspiciously.
You chuffed. “Like I said: Kind of.”
Silco rubbed his hand up and down your spine a few times, before kissing your temple and returning to the stove.
“You remember what we talked about?” you asked Jinx.
She fiddled with her hair, nodding. “I can come and go as I please.”
“Right. If you want to be with us, I want you to be there. If you don’t, that’s fine, too. You get to decide, and it doesn’t have to be right now.”
Jinx nodded again, eyes staring into the middle-distance. Reaching over, you brushed your fingers through her hair again. Her eyes snapped back to yours.
“Are you scared?”
You gave her a reassuring smile.
“No. I’m happy.”
It wasn’t a lie. But a few hours later, your happiness was thoroughly overshadowed by the pain of labor. It was staggering how it had intensified. How it was becoming near non-stop as the space between contractions shortened and shortened. Gravity felt impossible to contend with on top of everything else, so you sank onto your bedroom floor with a low, guttural growl.
Silco had been attentive throughout, anticipating your needs before you even voiced them. Ever your anchor, your source for steadiness. Even now, on your hands and knees, his own wide palms settled onto your hips and pressed in. It pulled an appreciative groan from your throat.
“You’re doing so well, my love.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
Your eyes flicked to the bathroom door where Jinx was helping the midwife prepare a warm bath. You were proud of your girl. Admittedly, part of you doubted she would choose to stick around once labor became loud and more intense. When you could no longer keep yourself from crying out, hesitancy had flickered in her eyes, and her brows pitched in concern. But instead of dashing away, she’d reached for your hand and held tight.
“Is there anything you can give her?” she’d asked the midwife incredulously.
The female had smirked, impressed and moved by the girl’s protectiveness of you.
“I have mild pain relievers, but nothing that will fully numb – “
“Shimmer?”
The midwife’s black lips thinned. “That is only to be used in emergencies,” she explained. “It is too potent and powerful to be used for anything other than the most extreme circumstances. Which – “her eyes looked up at your haggard form on the bed – “does not seem probable. Her labor is progressing as it should. There is nothing to worry about.”
Jinx frowned, doubtful, and hunkered closer to your side.
“Seems like a dumb design that it hurts so much.”
“Agreed,” you wheezed.
“Come,” the midwife said, “let’s check you.”
She declared you’d progressed to eight centimeters. That had been three hours ago. And the pain just continued to climb and build.
A small sob burst through your teeth. Silco knelt at your side, quietly saying your name.
“I’m scared, Sil,” you admitted in a whisper. You were thankful Jinx wasn’t near to hear you back-pedal. Your breath hitched and words tumbled out: “I don’t know if I can do this.”
He took your warm and tear-streaked face between his hands, and repeated your name.
“Look at me.”
Reluctantly, your tired and wet eyes focused on his face. He looked at you with fierce earnestness, thumbs sweeping across the apples of your flushed cheeks. Suddenly, part of you grieved that the baby would never know Silco without his scars. Or yours. Outside and in.
Silco called your name again.
“Look at me,” he repeated. Your eyes slid back to his. Blue and red pinned you in place. “You can do this. I’ve not met anyone more tenacious, nor strong, nor as spirited as you. Those are but a few of the reasons I fell in love with you so long ago.” His eyes softened now; his adoration made plain. “You’ve absolutely no reason to doubt yourself.”
A small hiccup bubbled from your mouth, and you pressed your face into the warmth of his palm, breathing him in deeply. Not having properly dressed for the day, he hadn’t put any cologne on. The natural terra-sweet scent of his skin filled your nose. You were grateful for his support, respect, and belief in your abilities. A sudden, silly thought flitted across your mind.
“Not my dance moves?”
A single amused breath huffed from his throat. That infinitesimal smirk – one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with him – appeared on his lips. His blue eye flashed; as it often did when an idea struck him. Silco lifted to his feet, and used a strong grip to pull you to yours. He guided your arms to loop around his shoulders and neck, while his went to your low back. A weary chuckle left you as you understood. Your cheek was a relieved, heavy weight against his shoulder. It had to be a strange sight, this dance configuration: with your body slouched against his, massive belly hanging between you two. Slowly, your feet began gently shifting side-to-side.
“Admittedly,” he murmured against your crown, “your dance moves leave something to be desired right now.”
You laughed, even as another contraction swelled within you. Silco’s hands firmed up on your body, holding you upright as it moved through your body.
“I’ll make it up to you,” you hissed as most of the pain subsided. It was such now that there was no longer any real relief.
“A dance and a suck job? Lucky me.”
Your fingers pinched Silco’s upper back, and you felt the tremor of silent laughter in his shoulders.
“Tub’s ready!” Jinx sang as she flounced out of the bathroom.
Managing to smile at her, despite another great, contracting swell that threatened to bring you to your knees, you took her hand. Silco kept a strong arm wrapped around your middle, and you followed Jinx into the humid warmth of the bathroom.
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The water helped. Its heat soothed your pained muscles and aching bones. The irony was not lost on you that you found peace in it. After a few minutes of settling into the tub, you gave Silco a look that to anyone else may have seemed like nothing. But he caught the message in your eyes, and tucked himself close to the tub’s edge, taking your hand. Jinx huddled herself into his lap, nervously fingering the buttons on his shirt.
About an hour later, the midwife’s large ears flicked in your direction as the quality of your breath shifted, as the sounds leaving you turned deeper and more animal. Her deft hands slipped into the water and between your legs.
“Something changed,” you gasped, hunching slightly. “It feels like – “
“It’s time,” she said, pulling her hands from the water. Somehow, she’d also stripped your underwear off in the same movement without you noticing. “It’s time to push.”
Push. The word settled into your body with a deep, innate knowing.
Yes. That’s what you were feeling. The near uncontrollable need to bare down. An old, predetermined instinct washed over you. You could do this.
But you did not want to do it alone.
“Sil.”
The grit of his name and the way you shifted yourself forward spurred your partner into understanding. Swiftly, he stood, deposited Jinx onto the stool he’d vacated, and then stepped into the tub, sliding in behind you. Settling against his chest, your hand ferociously intertwined with his. His heart beat firmly against your back.
“You can do this,” he whispered into your ear.
“Give me your other hand, dear,” the midwife said. You did so and she guided it under the water, preparing you to feel and catch. “Push.”
“Push! Push!” Jinx cried, her little fists pumping and bopping in the air madly.
Gritting your teeth, you did just that. A sound you didn’t know you were capable of making burst from your lungs. When the air ran out, you slumped against Silco’s chest.
“Breath in,” the midwife demanded. You did so. “Push!”
You did again, a roar ripping from your chest. A roar that ended in a surprised yip as something into your hand.
“Again,” the midwife demanded.
And you complied, baring down with everything you had. With all the might and tenacity and power your body could exert. Another battle cry echoed off the bathroom tiles, and a solid weight slid into your hand. You ripped your other hand from Silco’s grip, and pulled a wriggling newborn from the water.
“It’s a boy!” Jinx yelled, bouncing up and down in her seat.
Her brother’s face squidged, and his pink mouth opened in an announcing wail. You joined in and pulled the babe to your chest. Silco went very still behind you, scarcely breathing. Then his hands appeared over yours, cradling the baby at your chest. Like on the night you’d taken in Jinx, he pulled his legs up around you both and held tight.
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Later, once the placenta had passed (something Jinx was equally horrified and enthralled by) you were helped out of the tub, and cleaned. The midwife tied off the babe’s umbilical cord, and once some time passed, you watched with an incredibly full heart as Silco severed it.
You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen the expression on your partner’s face. A soft, careful, wonderous thing. Then it hit you all at once. You were watching Silco fall in love. The notion took your breath away and fresh tears welled in your eyes. Jinx clung to you, and you to her.
“Thank you for being with me, Jinx. It helped.”
The girl beamed up at you, holding on tighter.
“I think it is your turn for a shower, sir,” the midwife said, twisting off the umbilical nub.
Silco watched her hands like a hawk as she did. He slid in once she finished, and wrapped him in a blanket Jinx had decorated. It was a small thing, but you caught the tremor in his hands. Keeping Jinx tucked against your side, you came to stand next to him.
“He’ll be here when you get out of the shower,” you whispered, voice hoarse.
“Yeah! Go get the baby juice off you!” Jinx ordered.
Silco’s expression of awe turned to one of bemusement as he glanced at your daughter.
“Yes. I suppose I should.”
Your own hands shook a bit as you gathered your son – your son! You wondered if the shock would wear off – and ushered Jinx to follow the midwife out of the bathroom.
With no small amount of effort, your body, beyond sore and exhausted, climbed into bed. The baby cooed and nuzzled and fussed against your chest as you settled into the pillows and duvet. Jinx climbed in on the opposite side, and snuggled close.
“He’s already sleeping!”
“It’s hard work being born. Don’t you remember?” you chuckled.
Jinx laughed, “No!”
A small smile curled the midwife’s mouth as she snapped her bag shut. She turned to you and bowed her head.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you said, eyes on your boy. Then you lifted them to hers, and said again, “And thank you.”
She nodded again, horns catching the light in the room.
“It was my honor.”
She gave you and the baby one last cursory check over, and took her leave.
A few moments after she left, there was a knock on the door, and Sevika stuck her head in.
“Ogre!” Jinx cried. “I gotta brother!”
Even Sevika’s presence couldn’t dampen Jinx’s mood.
Silco’s lieutenant grunted, and stepped over to the bed. She stayed at a distance though, craning her neck to peer down at you and the baby.
“Yep. That’s a baby. Congrats.”
“Thank you, Sevika.”
Behind her, Silco emerged from the foggy bathroom in a fresh pair of slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. Sevika tilted her strong chin in his direction and he nodded back.
“I’ll leave you all to it then,” she said.
Her poncho twirled as she spun back to leave. As she and Silco crossed paths, a metal finger tip whipped out from beneath the red fabric, and poked his bare belly. He jolted and shuddered. He sneered at her, but she just snickered and slipped out of the room.
Silco shook his head, damp hair beginning to curl at the ends. He rounded the bed, and climbed in, sandwiching Jinx between your bodies. He leaned over the girl’s head and kissed you.
“What’re we gonna name him?” Jinx pipped.
You and Silco exchanged a look.
“I’m not sure,” you admitted.
“I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” he added.
Immediately, Jinx began rattling off all her suggestions.
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Before a name could be decided, you fell asleep. Jinx followed shortly after; her plump cheek pressed against your shoulder. Gingerly, Silco lifted the baby from your arms, and brought him to his bare chest. The boy tensed, and then melted, a small wispy sigh leaving him.
Silco melted, too; a foreign, near indescribable softness filling him up. He brought his hand to the boy’s back, its length and width nearly covering all of him. His son was so small.
His son. His son.
Emotions gripped him so intensely he nearly choked.
Elation, love, fear.
Grief.
There was grief that his child was born technically as a citizen of Piltover. But that anguish was small compared to the other one that had been tucked away in the scar tissue of Silco’s heart ever since you had told him of the pregnancy. A pain that he hated he harbored.
The secret grief was that Vander wasn’t here to see this. The grief that his Brother had ruined any chance of participating in this milestone. The grief of Vander’s death (justified though it was) was scratched open as Silco’s son lay on his heart. The grief that, had things gone differently, Silco would’ve named the boy after his Brother.
“Sil.”
Silco’s head whipped around at the sound of your voice. Your beautiful, exhausted, beautiful face shone up at him. There was a smile on your lips that he wished to taste, so he leaned over Jinx’s head again and pressed his mouth to yours. 
“I told you you could do it,” he whispered leaning back. You smiled and nodded wearily.
The baby grunted and shifted against Silco’s chest, and he pet the back of his head so, so softly. It broke your heart into a million pieces, and then they jumped right back together. Your eyes slid back up to your partner’s profile.
You felt his grief, because it was yours, too.
“I know, Silco,” you whispered. He looked over to you. Jinx snored softly between. “I wish it had been different, too.”
Silco’s eyebrow dropped, and his lips softened. He glanced down at the baby on his chest, and chuckled ruefully.
“I truly don’t know what to name him.”
You shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”
He nodded. You sat in silence for a while, listening to your children breath. Jinx’s raspy breaths and the baby’s snuffling. It was music to your ears. You would never tire of hearing it.
Just as you were about to doze again, you felt Silco’s energy shift. Eyes sharpening onto him, you watched as he first gently ran his fingers over Jinx’s freckled cheek. Then, so carefully, he lifted the baby from his chest so he could look at his small face.
“You and your sister will have better than we did,” he promised. “Me and your mother will give you a nation.”
Your son’s eyes fluttered open and closed, the bud of his mouth stretching into what looked like a small smile. Your throat tightened horribly, and you tucked your nose into Jinx’s crown.
When you were sure you could speak without choking, you lifted your head and said, “We promise.”
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I hope part two scratched the itch <3 If you enjoy my work and would like to support me (firstly, THANK YOU!) check out my Ko-Fi page!
ko-fi.com/kiki13
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rafelandia · 3 days ago
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Hwy can you wtite dad rafe x mom reader after giving birth to their daughter how did the first time (s€x) went or something like that, you can do what you want.
I feel like Rafe is hesitant to initiate once they get cleared by the doctor. He wants to so fucking bad but these last few weeks had been rough and he knows Y/N hasn’t had the best time. He unintentionally makes the drive home awkward and quiet, not wanting to bring it up until she does.
It probably starts out slow and on a whim, maybe she goes to check on Rafe in the middle of the night because he’d been out of bed a bit longer than he normally is. She finds him in the kitchen cleaning a bottle and there’s just something about the way the moonlight is hitting his broad chest and toned arms that reignites the flame deep in her tummy. Rafe would scoop her up and sit her on the cool, marble countertops of their kitchen and lazily plants warm and wet kisses down her neck and chest. He thinks it’s finally happening and right when his fingers navigate their way through her sleep shorts and hover over her sweet heat, they’re interrupted by a piercing cry of their newborn that jolts them out of the passionate state of longing they were in.
The next time, she’s nervous. She knows her body has changed and while she is extremely confident that Rafe could care less because she’d given him the most precious gift in the world, it’s a personal hurdle that she hasn’t quite been able to jump. She eventually agrees after being begged for what felt like the millionth time to let Rafe eat her out. He takes his time, refamiliarizing himself with her pussy and relishing the taste that he’d missed so much. Rafe’s got some stubble now due to late nights and exhaustion, which only enhances the sensation Y/N feels while he massages her clit with his tongue. The build up is intense and it doesn’t take long before her back arches up from the plush mattress they share when Rafe gently pumps one of his fingers inside of her and she’s seeing stars.
The rekindling of their sex life makes them feel young again — they find themselves sneaking away during any free time they have when baby girl is asleep. She’ll sit on his face while he devours her, and she’s leaning back so she can haphazardly stroke his thick cock. She’s getting more comfortable and gaining her confidence back — Rafe knows it won’t be long until she’s begging him to fuck the daylights out of her.
The first time they actually have sex is probably on a whim too — no elaborate gesture like flower petals on the bed and no meticulously planned “massage” that they both knew what would really end up going down. Rafe and Y/N are probably just in the hot tub after enjoying some wine at dinner and what starts as slow, drunken kisses turns into her on top of him and his hands shoved down the back of her swimsuit. He’s rubbing circles on her ass while she’s sucking on his neck, fingers moving dangerously close to her sweet spot. She’s putty in his hands and it’s not long before he’s teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock, waiting in agony for her to make the next move. The look in both of their eyes is unmistakably lust-ridden as she slowly sinks down into him. Rafe brushes her hair out of her face with a wet hand and tells her that she’s beautiful and to go as slow as she needs to, though he knows he’s on the brink of cumming just from the way the jets are swaying her body back and forth against him.
It would start agonizingly slow, Y/N having to stretch herself to fit all of him inside. He jumps the gun and bucks his hips on instinct. She tenses up at the sharp movement and he kisses the swell of her exposed breast before muttering a breathy, “Sorry, baby,” against her skin. Only a few minutes of rocking back and forth against him pass before they’re both out of air and panting heavily in each other’s ear. Rafe takes over for the last little bit, bouncing her up and down on his length. He tells her he’s close and is a bit embarrassed by it, but as her core rocks against the trail of hair beneath his navel and he knows she’s not far behind him. He gets it out of her when he starts talking, moaning into her neck about how much he missed fucking her pussy and how good it feels to have her again after what felt like centuries. Her body convulses as she comes undone, making her clench around his cock. That was all he needed to finish, though he makes sure to pull out before cumming into the water. They lay there for a bit, Y/N on top of him while she regains her strength. Swimsuits are abandoned in the hot tub when they head up for a shower and some sleep, knowing the house keepers will find them in the morning. Neither of them really seem to care.
Rafe is deeply unserious so he probably says something stupid like, “We are so back,” and playfully slaps her naked bum as she makes her way up the stairs and into bed. He’s missed his girl and the feeling he gets when he sees her with their daughter makes him want to put another baby in her and do it all over again. He knows it’s ridiculous to want another so soon — it’s more of a newly developed breeding kink than anything. But he’ll wait patiently until the time comes.
Little did he know.
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lailols · 15 hours ago
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Kai's Pretty Girlfriend [2]: Step Two
Hueningkai x Reader, eventual OT5 x Reader [3k ish words]
Warnings: thigh riding, kinda mean dom kai, sub reader, unprotected sex, dub con (Kai does things under the assumption that since the guys like the reader, they won't mind and while he's right, he still doesn't ask for consent), exhibitionism, voyeurism
Movie nights are a bit of a sacred tradition between the six of you. The only reason they work so well with your busy schedules is because you all make an effort to spend time together. It might seem silly, but you all push through fatigue and a promise of a good night sleep if it means you’ll spend even just two hours with each other. So maybe Kai should feel a little more remorseful for tainting them.
It’s for the greater good! He thinks to himself as he lets his hands travel down the front of your body under the blanket covering the two of you. Making sure to stop at your covered tits to give them some love. Pinching and pulling them through your shirt just a bit before traveling lower. You’re ever so pliant for him. He tells himself it’s because you’re such a good girl but he knows it’s probably because of the four guys sitting right next to you.
Well, right next to you is a bit of an exaggeration. You and Kai take the loveseat as the resident love birds while the guys pile onto the couch. They could very well see what’s going on if not for the action movie playing on the TV. Kai should probably know what it is, but he didn’t even bother to pay attention when they explained the two-part series because he knew he’d have more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, you.
He decides he should have some decorum, at least at the start. It’ll be no fun if you’re found out so soon after all. He just lets his hand wander under the blanket and your skirt to check what he already knows. Of course, you’re wet for him. Knowing you, you’ve been wet since you got to the dorm for the movie night. Kai was not secretive about the things he wanted to do to you, making sure to strip you of your panties and work you open for him as soon as he got his hands on you.
But that just makes this all the more fun. He keeps you still on his lap through the first movie but doesn’t let you rest. Instead, he trails his hands up and down your waist, sometimes letting them go up to fondle your tits some more and sometimes letting them go lower fluttering around but never where you need him most.
About halfway through the second movie, he turns you around on his lap, making sure to keep the blanket in place. You go willingly, letting him manhandle you into a different position and just tuck your head onto his shoulder with your face turned out to the TV. No doubt, it's a very uncomfortable position, but you don’t whine or complain. But Kai knows you well enough to know that your silence will go away very soon.
He takes a glance at the guys to see what they’re up to and finds them all glued to the screen. It seems like a fight scene is on and they’re all adamantly watching it. Yeonjun is leaning a bit out of his seat on the couch to see better while Soobin is resting his head on the back of the couch probably fighting sleep. Taehyun and Beomgyu are squished in between the two also fixed on the tv. Kai takes that as being in the clear to continue.
He starts off slow and simply grabs your hips to adjust your position from on his lap to hovering over his thigh. Setting you down and leaning to your ear to whisper, “Go ahead, sweetie. Don’t you wanna get off?”
Your hands twitch where they’re rested between the two of you before moving to his shoulders, squeezing. “But the guys…”
“I don’t think I mentioned them, did I?” He uses his grip to push you down onto his thigh, flexing the muscle. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You were so wet when I checked earlier. I’m not gonna help you out, so get started before I change my mind.”
You mutter something he can’t hear before rolling your hips against him. Shifting your head into his neck to hide your gasp. The rough fabric against your bare cunt doesn’t feel as good as you were hoping but you’re not gonna complain. You start off with a slow movement, too aware of the other people in the room with you.
Your hands flex on Kai's shoulders as you move yourself over his thigh. You quickly soak Kai’s pants which makes you run hot, but it does aid the slide. His flexing every so often also helps, but besides that, he leaves his hands at your hips and doesn't talk to you. It makes you feel so needy and desperate as if he didn't get you like this.
You crave his hands on you. Want his hands to wander down to the crease where your ass meets your thighs and grip. Want him to guide your movements above him like he usually does. Want him to trace your thighs and pinch at your skin while laughing at the tears his touch brings. But since he isn't, it's up to you to bring yourself pleasure, grinding against his thigh while you muffle your sounds against his skin.
You eventually build up a good rhythm that isn’t too noticeable while still working yourself to the edge. But that’s the problem. You’re only on the edge. It feels like you’ve been doing this for so long. Short pants leave your mouth from the effort and you angle your hips just right to rub your clit against his thigh.
But even that doesn’t help much. It feels so good and you know you’ve gotten off with less before, so why is it so hard? You just wanted to come, is that so much to ask? Kai has had you wound up since you walked into the dorm and this could be the sweet relief you needed but of course, it’s not that easy. A grunt of displeasure leaves your lips.
You never liked doing the work, content to let Kai move you as he wishes. Hell, you don’t even like riding him all that much. It doesn’t take much longer before you’re whimpering into his neck and clutching his shoulders, on the verge of tears because your thighs hurt and you’re no closer to coming than you were before all this.
“Kai.” You whisper into his skin. “I can’t. Help me?”
“Of course, you can’t. Dumb thing always needs me to help her out, hm?” Kai makes sure to let out a sigh before moving his hand from your hip to your cunt. He uses two fingers to open your folds and circle your entrance before continuing. “You just can’t help it though, can you? Always need me to make you feel good, right?”
“Need you. Need you.” You agree as you push your hips closer to his hand, urging him to get inside you. “Please. Please? I’ll be good, promise.”
He takes that as the okay to push two fingers into you. You gasp at the intrusion and clench around them. “I can’t help if you do let me in, pretty. I prepped you earlier, loosen up.”
You take a deep breath before relaxing into his hold once again. He mutters a ‘good’ to you before spreading his fingers inside you and thrusting them in and out. You try to keep your sounds down, you really do, but Kai knows how to make you feel good. He knows which parts to prod and press at to have you seeing stars and he doesn’t even try to help you out.
Not even bothering to be nice, instead playing with you in a way that he knows makes you loud. He doesn't bat an eye at how you bite your lip and squeeze his shoulders because he knows you'll be good. Knows you’ll take whatever he gives you and you will, but it’s hard. How can he expect you to be quiet when he’s doing this to you?
“Kai.” You moan out when he pushes his fingers to that spot that makes you feel so so good and grip his shoulders tighter. “I can- you can’t do that.”
“And why not?” He asks as he teases a third finger at your entrance. “I thought you wanted my help, baby. Am I not helping?”
“No, no, you are. Bu-“ You’re cut off by another moan escaping from his movements. “I can’t be quiet like this.”
“You can, baby." He pulls his fingers out to readjust before thrusting three into you with his thumb making a home on your clit. "I know you can be good for me.”
“I can’t.” He presses a kiss to your head, telling you to continue. "Not like this."
“Well, then you’ll just be loud.” His movements get more rough, each time he thrusts his fingers in he spreads them out mapping your core but making sure at least one of them is hitting that spongey spot inside you. “I know that’s what you wanted anyways, hm? Baby needs attention all the time. I’m not enough for you?”
“No!" You jolt at your volume before resting your head further into Kai's neck to continue. "No. Kai- Hyuka that’s not it, please.”
"Well, what do you want, hm?" His free hand travels to your waist and pinches hard making the tears that pooled in your eyes earlier spill over and whimpers leave your mouth. "I'm trying to help you out and all you're doing is complaining."
"Sor- 'm sorry." You cry out. "Just feel so good, you make me feel so good, I can't be quiet."
"My sweet girl." He purrs, bringing his hand from your clit to cradle your face, making sure to smear your wetness on your face. "My poor sweet girl. How could I forget? How dare I forget how dumb you get when I get my hands on you? That's okay, I'll make you listen."
He slides two fingers into your mouth and continues his ministrations below. And this feels good. Oh, it feels amazing, but then you realize that you don’t want to come like this. You tap his shoulder a few times and he slides his fingers out.
“I need you.” You trail your hands down to pull at the hem of his pants. “Please, please?”
“For how worried you were before, it seems like you want them to know how much of a slut you are.” He chances a glance at the guys to find them still watching the movie. Now, whether that’s out of respect or genuine interest is not determined. “Should I just take the blanket off of you? Let them see for real?”
You shake your head but continue pulling on his hemline. "No, 'm just need you. Need you. Please?" And for as hard as Kai can be on you, he really likes to give you what you want. He likes making you feel good. Likes turning you whiney and making you cry and beg for what you want just so he can give you it and so much more. Maybe that’s why you continue to ask for more, knowing whatever you take he returns tenfold.
“Lift up a bit.” You raise onto your knees to give him room to slide his dick out. “Bite my shoulder, sweet thing. So you’re not too loud.”
You were about to retort but when he guides you onto him, you quickly bite down to keep in your sounds. Kai's not helping any with the way he travels his hands up from your hips and to your stomach to press on the bulge he's leaving in your tummy making you choke down a moan.
“This is what you needed, hm?” He says as he picks you up a bit to fix his footing. “Always need me to do all the work, right baby? Pretty thing can’t get off by herself, but that’s okay, I’ll help you out.”
He takes to moving you up and down his cock but never letting you go all the way down so there’s no sound of skin hitting skin. Not that the lack of sound would matter much because you’re not quiet whatsoever. You poor thing, gripping his shoulders so tightly and digging your teeth in so hard but even that isn’t stopping your sounds.
You probably don’t even realize, too caught up in the feeling of wanting a release so desperately that you can’t think of anything else. Kai likes it when you get like this. So lost in the way he makes you feel. It makes him want to devour you but more than that, makes him want to show you off. Show the world how good you are, how sweet you sound.
He looks up to check if the guys are still watching the TV and they are but it’s clear their minds are elsewhere. All of their ears are tinted red and they’re all sitting ramrod straight, adjusting every now and then.
Kai wants to say something, but he didn’t talk to you about how far he could push and, honestly, you’d agree to anything he’d ask of you right now but would it be genuine? Or would you just be agreeing so you could come? He doesn’t have much time to assess before your keening and pulling off his shoulder to beg.
“Kai! ‘m gonna- gonna come.” You choke out as your hands go from his shoulders to his neck, tilting your head up towards him. “Kiss? Please?"
“You never have to ask, love.” He bends down to meet your lips, sliding his tongue into your waiting mouth. “Go ahead and come for me, baby.” He whispers into your lips. “You’ve been so good, you deserve it.” He slams you down onto his lap and moves his hand to your clit, passing over it once, twice, until you’re coming around him.
When you’re finished riding out your high, he pulls himself out of you and hushes your whines with a sweet kiss before he picks you up to pull up his pants and carries you out of the living room. Leaving his friends and group mates to sit in silence (besides the movie credits rolling) with awkward boners and flushes on their faces. When he lays you down on the bed, he kisses you again as he strips you of your clothes.
“Did I do good? Hyuka?” You ask even though he already said it, craving his words.
“So good, baby.” He pulls down his pants and enters you again. “Always so good for me. My perfect little slut, yeah?”
His words may grow more brazen but his thrusts are slow and deep. His hands are sweet as they guide your legs over his shoulders. You love Kai in all of his moods but this one might be your favorite. The way his hands trace your body as if your glass but his mouth runs a mile a minute. Telling you how you were so good and so quiet that he almost thought he wasn’t making you feel good. Saying how he’ll just have to make you scream now to make sure he can still satisfy you.
He continues to ramble as he travels his hands to interlock with yours and bring them above your head. Rocking into you and reaching so far you swear you feel him in your throat, as impossible as that is. It feels so good, he feels so good, you can’t help the little ahs that leave your mouth.
He makes you both reach the edge like that, rambling off about anything and everything before sliding himself out of you and grabbing something to clean you off. Then pulling you into his arms and whispering sweet nothings to you until you fall asleep interlocked together.
<3
Kai expected a talk after you were less than subtle during movie night, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing to be scolded by his friends.
Taehyun, Soobin, Yeonjun, and Beomgyu are currently standing in front of the couch where you and Kai are cuddling. Taehyun is standing with his hands in his pockets looking bored, Soobin is fiddling with his hands and looks as if he'd rather be anywhere else, Yeonjun has his arms crossed and is tapping his foot, and Beomgyu looks excited that he isn't currently being scolded.
"Is there anything you guys need?" Kai asks casually as he adjusts your position to sitting up.
"You guys can't sit together for movie nights anymore," Yeonjun says with shockingly little remorse considering the fact that he just ripped Kai's heart out and stomped on it in less than ten words.
"What?"
"Why not?" You and Kai share a look of shock and devastation before turning back to them.
"Well, putting aside the fact that you don't even pretend to pay attention to the movie, you also are very distracting to those of us who do want to watch the movie," Taehyun responds.
"How are we distracting?" Kai asks.
"Y/n doesn't even attempt to be quiet an-" Beomgyu is cut off by your gasp as you turn to Kai.
"You told me I was quiet!" You shoot him a look of pure betrayal that Kai has to look away from in shame.
"Well, maybeee you weren't as quiet as I was telling you," Kai proceeds to defend himself (read: lie through his fucking teeth), "You always try so hard to be good for me, I couldn't handle breaking the truth to you."
You don't spare him another glance before looking at the guys in remorse, "I'm so sorry that someone is a lying asshole, I didn't mean to stop you guys from enjoying movie nights."
"No, y/n, it's not your fault," Soobin stops before you can overthink. "We completely blame Kai. It wasn't even that big of a problem, we really wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t during movie night!”
“You wouldn’t have minded?” You ask surprised. Soobin promptly flushes.
“I- I mean, if you’re comfortable- but like- we don’t mind- I mean I can’t speak for them but-“
“What Soobin is so eloquently saying is that you’re hot y/n,” Beomgyu chimes in, not even flinching at the scorching glare Soobin sends his way. “We’d be crazy to not want to see you fall apart so prettily.”
“Oh.” You’re rendered speechless while Kai struggles to keep his smile at bay. This means Step Two is a success as well! He’s two for two. Damn. He should’ve placed a bet with someone. Or maybe not because when he thinks about it, Step Three needs a bit of revision...
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Step Two is done!! Yippie! This took so long because chapter three had me in a chokehold (and I was sick). Love ya! Let me know what you think!
What is Kai's revision to step three? The guys have watched so long, do you think they'll break and start doing something?
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ppumeonae-bigvibe · 3 days ago
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heart on the line
↖ navigation: enhypen masterlist || main masterlist
pairing: bodyguard! sunghoon x gn! reader
tags: reader being a precious human being (yes you), underlying hints of attraction <3, reader being more on the quiet side but is more vulnerable around sunghoon, sunghoon being the sweetest ever hehe
summary: unspoken feelings blossoms as sunghoon vows to protect you, the one he's come to love
word count: 1k
continuation from icy cold warmth [you don't have to read it to enjoy this fic, but it would be useful background information!]
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"...your dream?"
sunghoon blinked a couple of times, snapping out of his thoughts, "huh?" he glances at you, perched snuggly next to him by the balcony. stars twinkled brightly against the dark backdrop of the night, an occasional gust of wind causing the trees to rustle gently. both of you were staying up past your bedtime, finding solace atop the balcony ledge right outside your bedroom.
"being a bodyguard." you repeated again, a little softer this time. sunghoon stood protectively beside you as you swung your legs back and forth on the ledge, not at all bothered by the cool night breeze. he shifted his weight towards you, arms ready to catch you if you fall.
"well, my father and even my father's father have all served dutifully in this line of work. it felt right to follow their footsteps to protect the people we care about, just as they did for their valued personnel."
"am i just...one of the many people you'll serve?" the words left your mouth with a tinge of hesitation and sunghoon was quick to dispel it, "you might not be my first, but i want you to be my last. i want to be with you."
silence blanketed the both of you and sunghoon feels embarrassed by his bold proclamation, "i'm sorry, i was too forward--" you reached over to hush him with a finger over his lips, "i appreciate it." a small smile graced your face and sunghoon flushes from your genuinity.
you glazed over the horizon once more before you tuck your legs back behind the ledge. sunghoon instinctively holds you firmly in his arms, carrying you off the ledge and bringing you back into the warmth of your room. sunghoon apologized when you shivered in his hold, no doubt because your bare feet touched the floor. "it's cold." you murmured and he was quick to wrap another layer of clothing over you.
he felt your icy fingertips graze his inner wrist, eyes begging him to stay. "i'm right here." he promised, and you eventually lay down on your bed, with sunghoon knelt next to you.
"go to sleep now."
--
sunghoon knows you're a person of little words, so whenever you'd speak to him with that alluring voice of yours, he's hooked onto everything you say.
in this case, your usual poised demeanor was replaced with a more lighthearted one as the two of you made your way down by the riverside. you had shyly asked if sunghoon would like to spend one early morning by the river, a secret you sworn he should keep. of course, he rarely denies your requests, especially if it concerned something you desired.
you wanted solace away from home for a bit, and although you two had an hour before you had to hurry back home to get ready for the day, sunghoon took the opportunity. anything for you.
armed with a big umbrella and a picnic mat, he chases after you, "be careful!"
unable to contain the laugh that escaped your entire being, you gleefully dashed through the grass, flowers swaying in the wind, "come on!"
he holds dear moments like this, where you could put away your facade and be you, the person he cherishes the most. not that he didn't like you when you were serious or quiet; if sunghoon could, he would bring joy to you at the cost of the world.
you secured a secluded spot under the tree, beckoning for him to hurry along. together, you and sunghoon set up the area cozily. he sat down cross legged beside you, lightly chiding you, "you could have slowed down. what if there was something dangerous in the field i didn't see?"
"if we went any slower, i wouldn't get to spend these precious minutes with you." you blinked and sunghoon feels his entire body awaken under your scrutiny. "you do know the severity of your words, right?" he muses, gazing at you.
"i do."
the sky became pink like a sea of cotton candy, with the light of the sun coloring the clouds above with a pinkish hue. in this moment as he appreciates your sincerity, you grasped his hands in yours, "will you be by my side?
"of course."
--
gentle, soft-spoken. a stark contrast to him: brash, and sharp. two halves of a whole, he thinks to himself as he waits outside the music studio for your piano class to finish. he feels his body relax when he locks eyes with you, the small wave of your hands causing his heart to erupt.
"that will be all for today's class." the teacher greeted and you bowed your head, "thank you for today." sunghoon mimics your action as he leads you out of the building, not forgetting to hold your bag
"did you hear me earlier?" you tilt your head upwards, sparkling gaze directed to the male. sunghoon nods, "i have been standing outside after parking the car." he opens the door of the car for you, ushering you to get in, but you stood rooted by the door all while looking expectantly at him.
sunghoon noticed the tint of pink dusting your cheeks and realizes the meaning behind your question.
"i like the piece you were playing. will you play it for me later?"
he doesn't miss the way your lips curved up even higher. "i want to." with that promise, you slid into the seat beside his, your actions causing him to shake his head good-naturedly.
"your father is going to hear about this if he spots you sitting beside me instead of behind me." sunghoon lightly teased but you huffed, choosing you cross your arms, "but i want to."
just four simple words nearly had sunghoon clutching his heart, unbeknownst to you. he composed himself, starting up the car and reversed it out of the driveway.
"we'll take a detour then, so you can move behind before we arrive at the garage." sunghoon suggested and seeing you beam at him was more than enough.
"i'd like that."
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@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3
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valentine-cafe · 1 day ago
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My lieges, I humbly request your permission to make the 781 trio come in their pants <3 Wet dreams, a little too much teasing, dealer's choice on this one! I just adore it when men end up acting a little pathetic ο(=•ω<=)ρ⌒☆
-🍂
˖⁺. “ mess makin' ! ” : 
﹙ monster boyfriends x gn reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁
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. . . verse 781 alessio, rishen & talisen x gn reader !! 🍒 :  ﹙ rishen: hero ˖ preppy nerd ˖ moth-spider-mantis character ˖ alessio: mercenary ˖ antihero ˖ punkgoth character ˖ talisen: grim reaper ˖ naga character ﹚
your lover just can't help himself when it's the thought of you on the line. what else can he do but cream themselves ? 
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﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ wet dreams ˖ monster heats  | wc : 1.0k 
﹙ receipts ﹚: here you are most faithful knight, just for you <3
꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱
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﹙alessio 781. ﹚. . . dreamer !! 🍓 : the sound of skin smacking against skin was like a symphony. the sight of you bouncing up and down on his cock. chest flushed into his. walls squeezing around him as you push down once more and swirl your hips after he gives you a little clap to the thigh. oh he was in zenith. you’re always so perfect.
“that’s it baby - fuck - yeah that’s it. show me y’love me.”
he’d groan. leaning back into his black leather sofa so that he may simply watch you. moving up and down on him as though you were made for it. made for him. he can’t stop his hands from caressing your sides. reaching up to your chest. his own hips moving up into yours in fluid motions. his tummy tightens - fuck - he’s gonna fill you up and see all of it. see the way you -
a groggy noise would leave the mercenary who shifts around amongst the sheets. an emerald eye cracking open to his phone beeping with messages. the culprit of his sleep theft.
it’s the least of his worries. not when he shifts to reach over and feels a particular slick between his legs — he’s silent for a bit. tiredly staring out of his apartment window before he groans and sits up. flips the sheets off to reveal his messy shorts. hard dick. and no you.
“for fucks sakes - again?” he knew he’d miss you while you’re on that damn trip but this was the third time this week. his jaw tightens in frustration and he slumps back into his sheets.
what else can he do other than slip his hand down. jerk at himself until he’s gripping onto his pillow and stuttering out groans. soft whines. he’ll stain his hand twice, wishing it was your warm hole instead.
꒰  mercenary ˖ antihero ˖ immortal ˖ punkgoth character  ꒱
﹙rishen 781. ﹚. . . hybrid woes !! 🍒 : it’s been a bad week. exams. hero work. the fight with his dad on thursday. not to mention the artisan fucking up the city for the last three days. he’s barely gotten an ounce of his precious sleep.
let alone forget to take her stabilizer.
it should be every three days. he knows that. you and talisen have tried to remind him when you can - but both of you are equally as busy. the poor girl forgot altogether.
she felt a bit agitated as she sat within the biochem lecture. a little frustrated. a little all-over. the professor spoke too soft. the person on the far right coughed too loudly. the pace of the lesson was slow. the words on the screen moved too fast.
from your spot next to him you see the tension. and so you reach over to gently caress his hand. squeeze and tell him it’s okay. you feel him relax - he always does when you play with his hands. your fingers link into his and you run them down his knuckles. flip his hand over and do the same.
and that’s when she tenses. so instead you go to rub a her knuckles. he tenses more. something’s not right. he feels his tummy twist. he has to bite down on his lower lip and shut his eyes.
you grow concerned. in your desperate effort, you go to her wrist in assurance. slowly. completely unaware of the swollen. silk slit. that you so perfectly graze against.
suddenly he pushes his head into his forearm on the table. bucks his hips under the table and lets out a low whine. his thighs smeered with the squirting of his cum. at least she wore pants today.
you sit there. wide eyes meeting his that peer up at you from his forearm. realisation settles in and you let out a soft breath. “oh rishen. . . your stabilizer,” you whisper.
he tries not to whimper. but she can’t help but grip your hand and pull it under the table. against his crotch. hiccupping. “f-. . . f-felt really good. ‘m sorry - please. . .” needless to say you’d have to wrap your sweater around his waist and shuffle to the bathroom with her once the bell rings
꒰  hero ˖ preppy nerd ˖ moth-spider-mantis character  ꒱
﹙talisen 781. ﹚. . . beat the heat !! 🍓 : he knew the date was coming and yet he dreaded it more than ever this time around.
reaper heats were never fun. at least not alone. once he’s got his cock buried deep into a warm hole and fucking them mercilessly - well. it’s definitely a way to beat the heat. only this time - everyone that could help him, including you, would be out of the city.
how convenient, right?
well he certainly was not ready to miss a whole week of uni thanks to the incessant urge to fuck one of his beloveds who were. nowhere. in sight. the endless jerking off and pillow humping he’d be subjected to. oh he could already picture the utter despair he would be in.
he tried to push it to the back of his mind. he still had about a day or so before the dreaded date. so he would go about his normal uni day. well. at least he would try to. that was until he went on off to the rooftop to take a breather because everything just seemed so hot - what was the temperature today? it’s a overcast - what’s the -
it’s only when he leans against the wall after sliding down onto the rooftop flooring that he feels it. the sparks at the base of his spine. he raises a hand to bite down on his knuckle and he whines at the feel between his legs he’s been trying to ignore all day.
his heat arrived a day early. just as he had seen the signs. just as he had been trying to nerve. his crotch feels all sorts of heat and oh does he wish one of you were here.
poor thing. he’ll vapour back to the dorm as quickly as possible. pull out one of the old voice notes he has from you and try to satisfy himself as much as he possibly can.
꒰  grim reaper ˖ naga character ꒱
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﹙ tip jar. ﹚: like our work? consider suporting us 𖹭 
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luvlystarr · 21 hours ago
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⋆。 ˚。 ⋆୨୧⋆ 。˚
Prompt: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Reader, meet-cute with a beautiful stranger, based off of Beautiful Stranger by Laufey!
Content: Fluff
This has been sitting in my drafts for so long and I just wanted to get it done with 😭 Also thank you so much for the huge support on my last post!🤍🤍
⋆。 ˚。 ⋆
Everyday has always been the same. Get up, get ready, go to work, go back home, sleep and repeat. Nothing much changed in your routine.
So, there you were again, standing in the middle of the train station while patiently waiting for your ride to work. It was early in the morning and your mind was still numb from the very little sleep you had. You were still trying to make sense of your surroundings.
It didn't take long for a voice to ring throughout the station, which came from the speakers, indicating that your train is finally coming. Everyone hustled around, trying to be first ones in and find a spot.
The train appeared and halted in front of you. Once the doors opened, people around you began rushing in. You were pushed around relentlessly, but you had no energy to stop them. Unfortunately, you letting them push you around left you with no spots for you to sit, forcing you to stand. As much as you hated the idea, it was probably best knowing if you chose you sit you would've fallen asleep and missed your stop. So, you held onto the metal pole next to you, making sure not to topple over once the train began to move. Time seemed to slow down, it felt like it was taking ages for you to get to your stop. Your body was begging for a wink of sleep and you tried your best to distract yourself by thinking of random things. Ranging from work to useless information you found on the internet. Although it ended to no avail. Your eyelids began to feel heavy and your head began to nod as you slowly drifted into sleep. The grip you had on the metal pole loosened ever so slightly, leaving you vulnerable to any sort of movement from the train. Half of your body was asleep while the other half was awake, desperately trying to stop succumbing into the drowsiness. You didn't even notice someone stand next to you, also holding onto the same pole. Just then, the train abruptly shook which caused your body stumble over. Your eyes instantly shoot wide open, feeling the exhaustion switch to panic. Your hand's grip on the pole tightened but your body was already sent flying forwards. Before you could face plant on the floor, somebody's hand catches you and you land on that person's chest. A rush of heat quickly crept up your face. You pull away, flushed from embarrassment, as you look up to see you saved you. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—" Your words instantly died in your mouth as your eyes landed on the most handsome face you've ever seen your entire life. The man's brown eyes looked down at yours, a small grin on his face from amusement. His chuckle reverberated from his chest, which sounded so heavenly in your ears. You were left dumbfounded, staring at the most beautiful stranger you've ever encountered. "It's fine, don't worry about it. You okay, though?" The man asked, his British accent becoming apparent. God, even his voice sent shivers down your spine. You meekly nodded your head, feeling your blush get worse. "Yeah, I'm good," you awkwardly chuckle. If only you had put more effort into your appearance, you probably look half dead right now from the lack of sleep. He smiled once more and you could've sworn your heart dropped. Now your nerves were all over the place. All because of some random handsome guy who saved you from embarrassing yourself. His hand eventually leaves you but lingered for a bit before fully pulling away. The doors opened and the train came to a stop. You look outside and notice it was finally your stop. Once again, people began hustling outside, pushing you around once again. But before you could leave, you give one last look at the man. You give him your best smile, despite still feeling tired, and awkwardly say, "Thanks for catching me, I would've fallen face first on the floor." You regretted saying that the moment you said it. In your entire life you’ve never heard your voice so shaky and weird. Your words were followed by another chuckle, which the man returned. "No problem," he said, his own smile becoming bigger. Although you didn't want to say goodbye, you didn't want to be late to work either. You give him a small nod before getting off of the train. The doors behind you close. Instantly, you feel stupid for not even asking for his name. Just before the train could leave, your quickly look back, only to find him staring right back at you.
There was something special about him, besides the fact that he was absolutely attractive. It was as if there was an invisible string that bound you to him. So many questions flooded your mind about him and you couldn't help but feel the need to know more about him.
The two of you were left standing there, staring at each other through the doors of the train before it began to move. Your eyes followed him, watching him give a small wave before the train finally left your view. After another moment, a disappointed sigh leaves your lips. Time to face reality again. He'll most likely remain a stranger until you encounter him again. Well, if you ever encounter him again. You get to work and clock in. Your job is a barista at a small cafe that usually isn't busy, which is pretty simple enough. You liked the quietness and the constant smell of coffee and bread.
When you finished making another customer's drink, your manager called you over, asking if you can be cashier for a bit while she quickly does something. Of course, you agree and take over as soon as possible. You wait for the next customer while mindlessly staring at the register in front of you. The sound of the door opening caught your attention and you quickly pull yourself together for the customer. "Hello! Welcome to..." Once again, your words failed to leave your lips as you look up to meet the exact same man from the train. He let out an amused smile. "Oh, it's you! What a coincidence," he laughed. You returned his laugh as you feel your face flush. At that point you could’ve died from embarrassment. "Yeah, this is where I work. So, what can I get you?" You ask him
No way this is happening. You had already embarrassed yourself enough and you can’t handle anymore dumb memories to keep you up at night.
“Just a medium coffee," he responds.
You put that in the register before finally asking him, "Can I get a name for that?" "Kyle Garrick." You nod your head. Oh, you were definitely going to remember that name from now on. "Alright! That'll be $4.90." You hand Kyle the card reader and he inserts his card in. Once he was done, you hand him the receipt and gesture him to the side where he can wait. You quickly go and make his drink, making sure every little detail is perfect. It was such a simple drink yet your hands trembled at the thought of making a mistake. Once you were done making the most perfect medium coffee you could make, you quickly turned back to Kyle.
“Order for Kyle!” You called out.
Kyle came over and took the drink from you. His fingers brushed against yours in such a brief moment, in your perspective it didn’t seem accidental at all. Yet somehow that small touch left your mind completely blank.
He smiled at you again. “Thanks.. (Name).” You could tell he got that off of your name tag from the way he quickly glanced at it. You nodded your head and returned his smile with a sheepish one.
Before Kyle could leave he took out a small folded piece of paper and slid it across the counter to you.
“Are you gonna be here tomorrow?” He asked.
You were taken aback by that question but you were still quick to answer. “Yeah, I work from Monday to Friday,” you answered.
Kyle nodded his head. “Then I’ll see you again tomorrow. I’d like to stay and chat for a bit but I gotta go. Thanks for the coffee,” he said while gesturing to the cup in his hand. With that, he takes his leave. You quickly took the little paper and read what was written inside.
Not even a mere millisecond passed when you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Your face burned red as you stared at it for God knows how long.
It was his number.
If you could, you would’ve quickly pulled out your phone and saved it but you didn’t have it with you since your boss makes no one has their phone on hand while working.
“Geez, your gonna burn a hole through that paper if you keep staring like that,” your coworker chuckled, snapping you out of your trance.
You hastily shove the paper into your pocket. “Holy shit, you scared me,” you uttered.
Your coworker continued to laugh at you. “You know, you can be so oblivious sometimes. Did you even notice the way he started at you while you made his coffee? He looked like he got love at first sight.”
Hearing that made your heart jump like crazy. It was true, you didn’t notice at all and just assumed he was looking somewhere else.
“Why don’t you chase after him? You never know, he could be your future husband,” your coworker grinned mischievously.
“Shut up…” You grumbled, moving past her to try and focus back on your work.
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majoriehoax · 2 days ago
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╰┈➤ ❝ BOTS UPLOADED ❞
╰┈➤ ❝ includes scream / elite / stranger things / PJO / diary of a wimpy kid
╰┈➤ ❝ BILLY LOOMIS ⚔︎ mask || Billy leaned against the kitchen counter, his dark eyes fixed on the back door, waiting for the sound of footsteps. He heard them approach, slow and deliberate, before the door creaked open. He didn’t move right away, just watched, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Hey,” he greeted casually, pushing himself off the counter. “You took your time.” His tone was relaxed, maybe even amused, but his gaze was sharp, like he was seeing something nobody else could. Billy wandered around the room, his fingers grazing the edge of the counter as he spoke. “You ever think about how people… wear these masks every day? Act like they’re something they’re not?” He paused, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, it’s kind of fascinating, right?”
╰┈➤ ❝ CARLA ROSON 💳 new student || Carla spotted the new student lingering near the entrance of Las Encinas, looking a little lost and out of place. She sighed, watching as they awkwardly fumbled with their schedule and glanced around, clearly unsure of where to go. With a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, she decided to step in. Striding over, Carla flashed a polite but amused smile. “You must be new,” she stated, her tone calm and confident. “Let me guess—first day, no idea where to start?” The newcomer nodded, looking somewhat relieved to have someone approach. Carla gave a little shrug, her eyes glinting with a hint of intrigue. “Don’t worry. This place can be… a bit overwhelming,” she said with a knowing smile. “I’m Carla, by the way.”
╰┈➤ ❝ JONATHAN BYERS ⊹ ࣪ ˖ sparks fly || Jonathan didn’t know exactly when his harmless little crush on user had turned into this all-consuming distraction. All he knew was that whenever she stood close, every coherent thought he might’ve had completely dissolved. His pulse was loud in his ears, and he had to remind himself to keep breathing, keep cool, act normal—whatever that even meant anymore. That day in the Hawkins High hallway, she was leaning casually against a locker, smiling at him in that way that made him feel like maybe she knew what was going on in his head and didn’t mind. Jonathan tried to keep his focus, nodding along to whatever she was saying, but his mind kept drifting to how close she was. Close enough that if he just leaned in a little… He snapped out of it, swallowing, hoping she couldn’t read his thoughts. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting an almost ethereal glow on her. She laughed, and he caught himself smiling back, probably looking like a total idiot, his eyes fixed on her mouth. He quickly looked down at his shoes, cheeks burning, cursing himself for being so obvious.
╰┈➤ ❝ LUKE CASTELLAN 🍓strawberry field || As the morning sun began to rise over the strawberry fields, a gentle warmth spread across the soft grass and dew-kissed leaves. Luke stirred, feeling the tender rays of dawn on his face. For a moment, he kept his eyes closed, savoring the feeling of peace that surrounded him. The air was filled with the faint, sweet scent of strawberries mingling with the fresh morning breeze. Opening his eyes slowly, Luke turned his gaze toward the figure resting peacefully beside him. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and his heart swelled as he watched them sleep, still wrapped in the afterglow of the night they had shared. He reached out carefully, brushing a stray strand of hair from their face with gentle fingers, not wanting to wake them but unable to resist the urge to be close to them, to memorize the quiet beauty of the moment.
╰┈➤ ❝ PERCY JACKSON 。𖦹˚. bi bi bi (masc user!) || Percy was sprawled out on the grass by the lake, squinting up at the autumn sun through his fingers. Camp Half-Blood was quieter than usual, most campers off in the arena training or gathered in the pavilion. But Percy liked it here by the water, feeling the cool breeze ruffle his hair, the faint scent of pine and ocean mingling around him. It was peaceful, the kind of peace he hadn’t really known before Camp Half-Blood had become his second home. He glanced to the side, where user sat cross-legged, idly tracing patterns in the dirt. They’d been close for months now, training together, sharing stories, laughing over just about anything. The first time Percy had realized how much he liked spending time with them, it had hit him harder than any monster ever had. With Annabeth, he’d always been sure, that tug in his heart pulling him straight toward her. But with user, it felt different—unexpected, gentle, as if he were discovering something new about himself, layer by layer. (book percy!)
╰┈➤ ❝ RODRICK HEFFLEY 🎸 teenage dirtbag || Rodrick leaned against his van in the high school parking lot, arms crossed, his usual smirk plastered on his face. He watched as user walked up, wearing that band shirt he’d never admit he thought was cool. He pushed himself off the van with a lazy shove, barely nodding as he opened the passenger door and gestured for them to get in. He didn’t say much at first—Rodrick never did when he could get away with it—but there was a little grin when he caught user sneaking a glance at him. The van smelled like gas station snacks and that weird pine tree air freshener he’d jammed into the vent a few months ago. His favorite CD was already blasting some loud, screechy guitar solo. Rodrick liked it that way; it saved him from having to come up with something clever to say. Instead, he threw the van in gear and peeled out of the parking lot, a little too fast on purpose.
— SAOIRSE.
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vi0l3tluvsu · 18 hours ago
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Nightcrawler x Peter headcanons
a/n: I’m switching up my posts cause I’ve always wanted to post headcanons and fanfics but I’ve been too scared lol so now I’m just gonna do it until someone corrects me :p
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Nightcrawler
-> uses his tail to hang from EVERYTHING (scares the others because he’ll sometimes let himself fall)
-> helps Peter steal from candy stores
-> AWFUL cook, has burnt water.
-> cusses at Peter in German because he knows Peter doesn’t have the patience to learn the language
-> hates faux leather
-> goes to Europe at least once a week because “the food is much better”
-> enjoys being “pet” but has hissed at people for touching him without asking
-> he’s had fleas (Peter’s fault)
-> LOVES reptiles. Is fascinated with how they don’t burn under heat
Peter Maximoff
-> had a hamster wheel made special for him so he could get his zoomies out
-> “real food is boring.” (13 cavities)
-> has been caught ON CAMERA stealing
-> once dated a girl who lived across the world from him & ran to her place once a week (got so burned out from this he would stay with her for two days)
-> now that he’s in his twenties he gets burned out more easily and has to rest longer
-> one of the only times the world ever slowed down for him was the first time he tried an edible, he thought they were normal blondies. He was very wrong.
-> “this would be so much better with Kurt..” is a daily sentence people hear from him
Nightcrawler x Peter
-> share a bed after missions so they know the other is really alive
-> CONSTANTLY get into small fist fights
-> Kurt has stolen Peter’s shirts more than once
-> Kurt has 3 alarms (7, 7:30, 8:00) Peter turns all of them off before they sleep so they “accidentally” miss missions
-> Kurt has, on more than one occasion, awoke to Peter staring at him while they are supposed to be sleeping
-> Peter is a sleep talker, Kurt is a sleep hitter
-> most of the mansion was surprised when they found out the two of them were dating because of Peter’s string of week long relationships
-> Peter has a spray bottle that he sprays Kurt with when he’s being mean
-> Kurt sleeps best when laying on Peter’s chest with his tail wrapped around Peter’s leg
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In Love and War (9)
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Summary: The completion of the wards falls on an anniversary Warlord!Rhys can't forget.
Content Warnings: Mentions of Death/Infant Loss; Depression; Mentions of Drinking.
Author's Note: Brought the story back just to fill it with angst, I'm so sorry!
Previous Chapter/ Masterlist
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Rhys is gone by morning, his side of the mat cold. My head feels like it’s full of cotton; mouth full of sand. My bones ache, most of all my hands, it’s an effort to stretch out my fingers without feeling like my skin might tear right off the bone.
At least I haven’t covered the tent in vines while I slept.
There’s a waterskin and some rations left beside the mat for me, after a couple minutes of trying to rub the stiffness from my fingers, I sit up and scarf it down like I haven’t seen a meal in a week. My stomach certainly rumbles like it. I wonder if an increased appetite is a side effect of expelling so much power?
Once I’m finished, I slip back into my armor, wincing at the smell that clings to the leather. I need a shower, desperately! We’re supposed to be meeting up with Cassian’s group today, hopefully that means we’ll return to the valley soon and I can find some place to get clean. 
By the time I’ve finished with the laces, Azriel’s poking his head in the tent and giving me a five minute warning before camp starts to move. He doesn’t offer up any answers as to where Rhys is before disappearing again.
Hoping the minatiny of this familiar task will help lessen the tension in my muscles, I make quick work of tearing down the tent and getting it all rolled up to leave. My head still feels terribly foggy, but I suppose I could still feel like I was going to tear out of my skin, so I’ll take it as a win. 
Azriel helps me get the supplies mounted onto Rhys’s horse, but the warlord still doesn’t show himself until right before we leave. He wears his cowl again, the stars covering his eyes, the heavy fabric shielding his wings from the cold mountain air. His gloved hands grab my hips and lift me into the saddle and he swings silently into his seat behind me without so much as a hello. 
I try to not let the silence get to me, but worry worms its way into my chest the longer we go without speaking. Had I done something wrong yesterday? Was he irritated with how slow my progress has been? He seemed pleased last night, had I misinterpreted it?
His powers seem… dull today. The starlight not so bright, his shadows sluggish as he stitches the wards back together. His body is heavy against my back, like he’s having a hard time holding himself upright.
“Are you ok?” It takes a couple hours for me to work up the courage to ask.
He nuzzles his cowl covered head against my neck. “I’m all right.”
“You’re quiet today,” I say gently.
“Just a little tired,” he assures.
“Did you not sleep?” I was so exhausted last night I hadn’t been aware enough to see if he’d fallen asleep with me. He’d been so exhausted when we’d made it back to camp I’d just assumed he was out as fast as I was.
“I’ll sleep when this is done,” he replies.
My chest aches at the thought of him being up all night, tying these wards back together after spending all day babysitting me and my errant powers. “You need to rest too.”
He kisses my temple, his lips like ice against my skin. “I’ll be alright.”
A few more minutes of silence stretch out between us, the only sound the horse’s hooves against the rocks and boisterous conversations of the men behind us. They’re in good spirits today, making bets on whether or not we beat Cassian around the mountain. Rhys makes no attempt to join the conversation, his focus still on the wards.
I see no sight of the other group ahead of us, just lots and lots of mountain, and some dark clouds ahead of us. We might meet Cassian as the storm arrives to meet us. I shiver at the thought of what might have happened to me if I was still out alone in that kind of weather. It’s almost cold enough to snow, if I had still been looking for game in that poor excuse for clothes, no real shelter to be had, I’d be dead. It still hits me like a slap to think that Tam left me out here, knowing I could die, knowing I wasn’t prepared to make it on my own.
“How do you feel today?” It’s not the first time I wonder if he can hear my thoughts somehow. He always seems to know when they turn to Tamlin.
“My head feels like it’s full of cotton,” I say truthfully. “But it is better than yesterday.”
He twists to find the waterskin and passes it to me. “It might feel like that for a while.”
I subconsciously bring my fingers up to rub my temples. “Suppose it’s better than clawing at my skin all day.”
“It will help if you keep practicing,” he assures. “The more you get comfortable with it, the less energy you will have to put in expelling it. It will come out naturally and it will hurt less.”
I think the bones in my fingers might snap in half if I keep trying to summon claws after yesterday. 
He stops warding long enough to cup my hands together in my lap. “Just practice making those flowers, like last night. No shapeshifting on Midnight, he doesn’t like having fangs near his neck.”
“Your horse’s name is Midnight?” I can’t help the laugh that slips out of me. Death Incarnate rides a horse that sounds like it got its name from a child! It’s so very un-Warlord like of him that I can’t help but smile.
“He was born at Midnight, so his name is Midnight,” Rhys counters and Midnight huffs in what sounds like agreement.
“Oh of course, I was just expecting something… more intimidating, I guess.”
Midnight shakes his mane in a way that looks to me like I’ve insulted him and I run an apologetic hand over his silk smooth neck. 
“It’s intimidating,” Rhys insists.
“It’s cute,” I amend.
He huffs as he leans his chin down against my shoulder, hand leaving mine to resume his stitching. “I was ten, it sounded cool to a ten year old.”
I try to picture a scruffy haired ten year old Rhys, but come up empty. “Even cuter!”
“Hush, you’ll ruin my reputation,” he warns, nipping playfully at the juncture of my throat and shoulder. 
“Your reputation is safe with me,” I swear.
He chuckles at that, but as my focus shifts to practicing like he suggested, he once again slips back into silence. His shadows drift lazily over my arms and wrists as I practice, as if watching my progress. Sometimes they brush soothingly over my shaking wrists, or rub circles into my palms when the tension becomes too much, but Rhys says nothing for hours.
The storm on the horizon continues to drift closer, the temperature dropping the further into the mountains we go. When I start to shiver, he draws his cloak around the two of us, and tucks himself a little tighter around me to share the blissful warmth of his body heat, but even then he says nothing. 
Worry once again worms its way into my chest. Is he hurt? Did I do something wrong yesterday? Did he somehow figure out what I’d done?
I worry my lower lip between my teeth to avoid him seeing me wringing my hands the longer this drags on. We don’t stop for lunch, only for a brief period to let the horses drink from a small stream, and not even long enough for us to dismount and stretch our legs. It’s a quick drink and then we’re right back to it. The men seem pleased with this, the less stops mean the sooner we reach the rendezvous point and beat Cassian. If any of them think something is amiss with Rhys, they don’t voice it.
It comes to a point that I try to catch Azriel’s eye to see if the other male notices anything off with his warlord, but Rhys keeps us steadily ahead of the others, leading the way into the coming storm. 
The wind beats relentlessly at us now, I have to shield my eyes by tucking my head inside Rhy’s cloak. Still, Rhys doesn’t slow, even if I hear the heavy rasp of his breathing beneath his chestplate the harder he pushes. 
By nightfall, lightning streaks across the sky in angry slashes, thunder echoing off the mountain tops. I can smell the rain on the wind, though trouble finds us first when a lightning strike hits the side of the mountain and a rush of boulders and debris come raining down on our heads. 
Rhys’s magic flares in a protective shield above our heads, sheltering us from the worst of it, and once he’s sure everyone is unscathed, he presses on. 
Still, none of the men protest. Not even when the rain finally comes. It beats down on us like thousands of icy needles, pelting relentlessly against every bit of exposed skin it can find. Rhys’ cloak protects us from the worst of it, but even for all its magic properties, it can’t keep the rain from sliding down into our boots. 
I try not to complain. I’ve been through worse. But my teeth are chattering and I’ve done my best to curl up into his chest to try and preserve any bit of body heat I might have left. “Rhys, are we going to stop soon?”
I’m not sure at first that he can hear me over the rain, but his body shifts, an arm wrapping around my waist and then Midnight is moving faster, uphill. A few minutes later, the rain stops. Well, not stops, I can still hear it, but it no longer beats against us. 
He slides off the horse and I hear the wet thwack of his boots against stone before he hauls me down onto the ground next to him. I don’t know how he’s not shivering, he’s as soaked as I am.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, pressing a damp kiss to my forehead. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
We’re in a large cave carved into the mountain. It’s cold and damp and so dark I can barely see, but it’s not raining on us any longer so I’ll take it. The rest of the men file in behind us, proving the size is bigger than I can make out in the dark. 
“Az, get a fire going,” Rhys orders. 
“This the spot we’re meeting the others?” One of the men asks.
“It’s up the ridge,” Rhys returns as he pulls off his gloves and shoves them in his pocket so he can help rub some warmth back into my fingers. “I’ll finish it in a moment.”
He brings my hands up to his lips and as Azriel gets a fire going with some debris littering the cave, I get the first real look of him all day. “I’m sorry, Darling,” his eyes are rimmed with dark circles and bloodshot, face pale. “I’m sorry.” He keeps repeating it even as he kisses my knuckles, more like he’s talking to himself than me and my chest cracks open a little more.
“It’s ok,” my teeth are still chattering. 
Some of the men find the wood they’ve kept wrapped and dry and get the fire growing, but Rhys pulls me farther into the dark, deft fingers unlacing my chestpiece, the leather sticking to my damp skin. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again and even though he’s still brushing his lips against my forehead while he works, I don’t feel like he’s seeing me at all. He’s far, far away from me, body moving on instinct and I reach out to touch his face.
“Hey, I’m ok,” I promise.
But he won’t stop moving, not until he’s completely stripped me of all my wet clothes and found something dry to slip me into in his pack. They’re all way too big for me, but they're dry and I can’t make any complaints about it. 
“Was distracted,” he mutters to himself, hands pulling my damp hair off my neck and into a swift braid. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m ok, Rhys,” I assure. Some warmth already returning to my stiff limbs.
He still doesn’t hear me as he leads me back over to where a roaring fire now blooms in the heart of the cave. A few of the men stand around it, warming their hands, but the rest remain dutifully near their horses, waiting. 
Rhys throws a blanket around my shoulders as he helps me sit like I’m incapable of doing it on my own. At least all the supplies had been covered in waterproofing before we set out. Nothing has been ruined. Anything too soaked to be of use gets left draped over some rocks near the fire to dry out.
“Better?” His own wet clothes make a puddle around him as he kneels next to me, making sure I’m fully wrapped up in the blanket. 
“Better,” I confirm, and I mean it, the heat is delicious, warming the rock beneath us so that the chill is no longer seeping through my clothes. 
He leans in to kiss me gently on the lips, like I’m made of glass or something. “I’m sorry.”
I try to reach for his hand to assure him that I am fine, but he pulls away before I can. 
“Stay with her while I finish the wards,” he orders Azriel.
I drag my attention away from Rhys to look at the other Illyrian. The orange glow of the fire of the sharp planes of his face make him look like a primordial god. 
“You shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel returns, muscular arms crossed firmly over his chest.
Rhys huffs as he strides past him, “Stay. With. Her.” Then he’s back on his horse and riding back into the rain before anyone else can try and stop him. 
Azriel sends some of the men out with him before settling down next to me on the floor.
I don’t know Azriel well enough to start up a conversation, at least, rationally I know that. That doesn’t stop me from trying anyway. “Is he ok?”
Azriel throws his wet boots to the floor to dry out with a sigh. “Today’s a bad day.” His wings flair out behind him, shaking out water droplets that make the fire hiss and sputter.
I glance at the remaining men, who make themselves comfortable and busy doing anything other than sit near the two of us.  “What’s today?” 
Hazel eyes flick briefly to me, and I get the distinct impression he’s sizing me up, before he goes back to starring in the fire. “Feyre…”
Shit.
“She died five years ago today.”
I glance back towards the mouth of the cave, out into the rain, even though I can’t see him out there in the dark. 
“She…” Azriel throws another log into the fire with the energy of someone who just needs to be doing something with his hands. “She was pregnant. A boy. They’d just found out the gender.”
I don’t know what to say. The beast that lives caged beneath my skin howls and rages against my bones, like it might break free and rip through the pain I feel shred my soul at the realization of how deeply Amarantha had hurt him. My claws tear easily through my nail beds.
“He always gets like this on the anniversary,” Azriel continues. “Usually does some reckless shit and drinks himself half to death.” He too glances out the mouth of the cave. “Give him some space tonight, ok?”
I nod, not trusting my voice to speak. 
“He’ll need you in the morning. It’s usually worse the day after, when he wakes up and realizes…” he trails off.
“When he realizes she’s not coming back,” tears prick the corners of my eyes. How many mornings had I awoken, still anxious that my mother had wandered off while I slept, only to remember she was gone?
“Yeah.”
“Will you check on him, in a bit?” I tuck my head against my knees. 
“No,” Azriel replies. “If I leave you alone tonight…” he lets the words hang there, but I get the point. The look in Rhys’ eyes earlier was clear enough. If he thought for even a second that I was in danger tonight, after what he’d already lost, he might just tear the whole world apart.
I pull the blanket tighter around myself and lean back against a boulder, trying to get comfortable. I’ll just have to wait up for him then. He has to come back eventually, right? He’s not so distracted by the date that he’d stay up in the rain all night, would he?
Azriel brings some food out for me a little while later, and some of the men start playing card games to pass the time. We don’t speak any more after that though, the silence only broken by the pounding of the rain against the mouth of the cave. I barely have the stomach to eat anything, I just keep staring at the entrance, waiting.
Today isn’t the day to ask him why he chose me. Tomorrow won’t be either. That’s ok. For whatever reason, it doesn’t feel like it matters right now. He needs me. I’ll be here. Whatever the reason fate brought us together, whatever either of us intended to do, tonight it’s irrelevant. Tonight I don’t want to think about all the trouble behind me. I just want to be here for him, like he has been for me. 
The hours start to tick by. Some of the men unfurl their sleep mats around the fire and drift off. Azriel sits dutifully beside me, spinning his dagger in his hands, only getting up every now and then to feed the fire. Rhys still doesn’t return. 
My fingers drift absently to my chest, to that spot where I sometimes feel that thing that ties me to Rhys. I don’t know that it’s really a bond, it seems cruel that the Mother would tie me to him when he deserves someone better than me, but tonight I hope that it is something. I push on it, hoping that there’s another end where he can feel me. An end that tells him I’m here if he needs me, if he wants me. I can’t replace her. Or what he’s lost. I won’t even begin to try, but if he wants me, I will be here, waiting.
“You should get some sleep,” Azriel says after a while.
I shift my position to be a little closer to the fire. “No.” I don’t need to explain myself, so I won’t try.
An hour past midnight, horses come into view through the downpour. As I sit up, hopeful that he’s finally back, Cassian dismounts from a horse covered in mud. Mor follows, barely conscious, her rain slicked hair plastered to her face. She yawns as she stumbles over to the fire, and strips right there in front of everyone, her wet clothes hitting the floor with a thwack. 
I don’t miss the way Azriel quickly looks away from her. 
Cassian only chuckles as he throws a fresh pair of clothes at her. 
Once she’s changed and holding her own blanket, she settles down next to me with a grin. “Guess you guys win this time around!”
“Yeah,” the words come out of me absently, my gaze still fixed over her shoulder, trying to see past Cassian and the rest of his men as they file in. 
Azriel stands to help them light a second fire, further blocking my view. 
“He was right behind us,” Mor assures, following my gaze. 
I find myself biting my lower lip again as my gaze jumps from one male to the next. Where is he? He should be back by now! But none of the faces that slowly come into view as Azriel gets the fire going is the one I want to see. 
My lip is bleeding from how much I’ve been biting on it tonight; I move to start biting at my nail instead. He shouldn’t be out there this long! Azriel says he gets reckless, did he do something stupid? What if he’s hurt?
Mor reaches out to grab my wrist and only then do I realize how deeply I’ve been digging my knuckles into the knot that’s been steadily forming in my chest. Her eyes are gentle as she pulls my hand away. “We weren’t followed, he’s fine.”
The beast beneath my skin snaps and growls. He’s not fine! He’s alone out there in the cold and rain, in pain and I can’t shake the feeling that he needs me… but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.
“He shouldn’t be alone.”
She glances over to Azriel and Cassian before looking back to me. “Trust me, he wants to be. Just give him space.”
The minutes drag on for eternity. Mor lays down next to me and drifts off almost immediately. I’m so restless I’m about to start pacing. I might have actually gotten up and done it if Azriel’s disapproving gaze didn’t land on me the moment I tried to stand back up. Bastard!
It’s probably no time at all before Midnight finally comes riding through the rain into the mouth of the cave, but it feels like eternity, as if I’d been holding my breath the whole night. The knot in my chest loosens as Rhys jumps out of the saddle and finds some scraps of cloth to dry the horse off with. 
His cloak is still drying across the fire, his clothes now sopping wet. Every move he makes leaves a puddle behind him. The strands of his dark hair have slipped free from the knot he’d tied them in, the long locks now clinging to his face. It takes everything in me not to get up and push them out of his way for him. 
He strips down to his boxers quickly, tossing his ruined clothes somewhere behind him carelessly. The glow of the fire makes the circles under his eyes darker as he snags a wineskin from one of the men. 
I watch as Cassian tries to make a joke, but Rhys just huffs at him as he pushes his hair out of his face and takes a long drink from the skin. 
I’ve waited all this time to make sure he’s ok, but now that he’s back I don’t know what to do. Azriel told me to stay away tonight, and by the looks of it, he’s following his own advice as he finally retrieves his mat and lays down near the entrance of the cave. Cassian hovers for a few minutes, trying to make conversation, but Rhys just keeps drinking and ignoring him, his gaze lost in the flames. Eventually he gives up and gets his own mat ready for bed. 
I wait, watching as Rhys finally sits down in front of the other fire, the light glistening off his damp skin. The shadows trace his tattoos like I often find myself wishing to do with my fingers. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make this better for him. But when my world fell apart, he’d come and held me, so maybe he needs that too?
I swallow the lump in my throat as I finally stand, dragging the blanket with me. 
For once, Rhys doesn’t seem to notice me, eyes still locked in the flames as he brings the skin to his lips and drinks again and again and again. 
I should be afraid of him. All the males in my life were violent drunks. The scars on my side are a testament to that. Rhys is stronger than all of them, and I have no idea what he’s like drunk. But I only feel trepidation because I don’t want to make his pain worse, not because I think he’ll hurt me. I don’t think he’s capable of that.
I take the blanket off my shoulders and drape it around his, careful of where his damp wings drape across the floor. Only then does he glance up at me, his eyes glassy. Wordlessly, his hand brushes over mine, barely holding on, just enough to give me a little tug, asking me to sit. For a moment, I just sit next to him under the shared blanket, but his skin is so cold! He’s not shaking only because he’s had enough to drink to keep him from noticing.
Damn me, and the stupid thing that lives in my chest that feels like it’s breaking from my inability to fix this. I’d thought what I was feeling might be pity at first, but now… now I can’t help but think I manifested this somehow, when I asked him all those days ago if he would show me how to be a good mate. 
I had spent most of my life wishing this kind of pain on him. I’ve gotten what I wanted and I hate every bit of it. This isn’t what  I want at all!
Slowly, unsure of myself, I twist so I can wrap my arms around his waist. At the very least, my body heat might keep him warm. He stills under my grip, body rigid. Maybe this was the wrong move, maybe Azriel was right and I should have stayed away.
“What are you doing, mate?” He whispers in my ear, voice slurring.
I tuck my head against his bare chest. “Want to hold you.”
“Why?” His hands shake as they trail down my spine. 
“You’re sad.” That’s an understatement, but I don’t know how else to put it. “I’m not very good at this comforting thing, you know? But you’ve held me when I’ve been sad so I thought, maybe, you would want that too.”
He goes quiet for a bit and I think maybe I’ve lost him to the horrors that plague his mind again, but then he tosses the wineskin to the floor and rolls us both onto our sides on the rough stone ground. The stone is uncomfortable without a mat, but he shifts so his arm is beneath my head, and glides my leg up over his hip so we’re chest to chest. I’m not sure how warm he’ll be with the fire at my back, but I hope my body heat will transfer to him well enough. 
“You didn’t have to stay up for me,” he says.
I gently trace my fingers over the swirls of ink on his chest. “I know, but I wanted to. I didn’t want you to be alone.”
He nuzzles his face against mine. “Will you stay with me?”
“For as long as you need,” I assure.
His wing comes up to cover us, but he doesn’t close his eyes, fingers drawing lazy shapes against my back. 
“You should sleep,” I try but he shakes his head.
“Not tonight.”
I wonder if he sees what he’s lost as clearly as I do in my dreams, but it feels like a bad time to ask. No need to further dredge up those awful memories. 
“You said you used to tell your mother stories,” he says, the firelight dancing over his face. “Will you tell me one?”
It is an easy rhythm to fall into, as easy as breathing. The words spill out of me, the tale weaving itself along with the tempo of the crackling wood and the pouring rain around us. I tell story after story about the nymphs and the dryads, in a world long before Hybern and Amarantha, long before war tore our people apart. I talk until the fire starts to die, and the rain becomes a dull thud against the rocks outside; until the words become as heavy as my eyes. He never says anything during my tales, but he never closes his eyes either, hands still wandering absently up my back. The gesture more soothing than he realizes, I don’t think anyone had ever held me like this. My eyes droop despite my best efforts, words starting to slur.
“You should sleep,” he says.
“Don’t want to leave you alone,” I confess, but my eyes are so, so heavy. The strain of the last few days still weighs on me. 
My vision is blurry, sleep pulling on the edge of my consciousness, so it has to be a trick of the light that I see tears in his violet eyes.
He buries his head in the crook of my neck, breath stuttering out of him, and I realize that it’s no trick. Not when I can feel the damp stain across my sleeve. He muffles a sob in my shirt, the dull thundering of the rain enough to cover the rest. My fingers move instinctively into his hair, brushing through the tangled strands., my senses once again alert and awake.
The knot in my chest aches so deeply I think it might keep me awake for days.
“I wasn’t fast enough,” he whimpers. 
Gods, how many times had I whispered that very thing into the dark, rocking myself to sleep, trying to soothe myself with all the possible ways I could have saved my parents, even when I knew it was futile? 
“There was nothing you could have done.” That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? It sounds right. Sounds like what I wanted someone to tell me when I spiraled down into the depths of my depression. 
“It should have been me,” he sobs.
I draw him tighter against me. If I had any way to draw that pain out of his chest and take it into my own I would. I’d do anything, offer any distraction, sacrifice any plan, to take that burden off my mate.
The world feels like it zeroes in to that one, particular point.
My mate.
Of all the godsdamned times for it to click into place, for him to be right, it had to be here, in this damp cave when I have no idea how to make any of this better. I’m out of my element, in more ways than one.
“You…” I’m having a hard time breathing around the knot in my chest--no, the tether in my chest, all jumbled and tangled by all the fucked up stuff between us, but a tether none the less. “You can’t think like that.”
“You don’t understand-” he growls into my throat, but I cut him off, “Yes, I do. I do understand what it feels like to have the people you love ripped from you.”
His body stills under my hands again.
“I understand the emptiness, the loneliness, how… dark and cold and fucking brutal the aftermath is because there is suddenly no one there to tell you that it’s not your fault. There’s no one to assure you that they would want you to live and not carry the weight of it on your shoulders every godsdamned day.”
He slowly tilts his head back to look at me, his face tear streaked. I move my hand out of his hair to brush some of it off his cheek. “No one can replace what you lost.”
Slowly, he leans his head into my touch. “And I’m so sorry that you’ve lost so much.”
It’s unfair that one person should have to lose so many of the people that he loves; looking at him, I can’t believe how close I was to bringing even more pain into his life. If I had succeeded… gods I would have been worse than my father!
“But I have to believe that you are still here for a reason.” He should get to have a life! Whatever that costs me, he’s more than earned it. “Even if you haven’t found that reason yet.”
Rhys leans back down against my shoulder with a sigh that makes his wings shake. “It’s so heavy,” he whispers.
My hands go back to his hair, working through the knots the rain has created. “Show me how to help you carry it?”
His wing comes back over me again, his weight now fully on me. Somehow, it feels like that helps the tether linking us together settle. The ache… soothed, just a bit. I drift my hands from his hair down his back, careful to avoid his wings, soothing over hard muscle, until his breathing stops feeling so shaky. 
“Distract me,” he whispers.
“Whatever you need, Rhys, I’m here,” and I mean it.
“Tell me another story?”
“As many as you like,” I promise. It’s the least I can do, for my mate. I shove all the fear and uncertainty the word brings to mind into a quaint little box in the back of my mind; bury it under layers of emotional damage I’ve never dealt with and refuse to let my thoughts run away with me. I will figure it out tomorrow. I will find a way to make sure I don’t become another scar on his heart. He can’t ever know what I planned to do… it would ruin him.
And I wouldn’t survive it.
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Thank you all for your patience! <3 I'm trying to get back on schedule with this!
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codfanficedits · 2 days ago
Text
Before the mask - part seventeen.
Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.
Wordcount: 1525| Rating: E! (18+ only!)
Warnings: Just fluff :)
A/N: I am so sorry for dissapearing like that. I graduated in the meantime, landed my dreamjob, I'll hear in about a week if I'm keeping that dreamjob, since I live with a racist goverment. I went to Sleep Token, had surgery again and I started to plan my wedding. Anyway, enjoy this short chapter while I try to sort my life out.
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Simon knew that he was a lucky bastard, having someone as beautiful as you next to him. And it made him want to try. He wanted to try to be a better man, to improve himself, he wanted you to be so proud of him. 
So when he saw you, all by yourself in the common area, with not a single soul who could see you two, he knew what he had to do. 
He stalked closer, almost as a predator stalking its prey. His footsteps oh so quiet, holding in his breath, his strong hands wrapping around your elbows, his chest against your back. “Care to dance with me, my love?”
Always." You answered, a soft smile on your face. Your eyes locked with his eyes, and you turned around, placing your hand in his, your other hand on his shoulder.
"Lead the way."
He spun you around in slow, gentle movements, moving your body effortlessly, almost as if his hands weren’t made for killing, but just for this. He held you close to him, resting one hand on the small of your back and moving the other from your hand to your hip. He stepped in time with the rhythm of his beating heart, his hands grazing your body intimately.
When he pulled you into him, you felt his heart beating strong. He leaned in and brushed your nose with his. "Don't ever let go of me," he whispered. "As if I would ever let someone as wonderful as you go." You whispered as you let him lead the way in this gentle dance. 
"I don't think you'll ever get rid of me." He chuckled softly. "That's good, because I can't imagine life without you." He held you tightly. Your hips moved against him in such a tantalising way, your body brushing up against his body. He leaned you back a little, leaning down to kiss you deeply. There was just something about you that had him smitten. "That sounds like a plan." You answered, after pulling back from the kiss, so you could rest your head on his chest. His heart was beating so fast, so hard, that it almost made you worry that it would beat out of his chest. 
"I really love you." You murmured softly as you closed your eyes, enjoying this sweet little moment together. 
"I really love you, too," Simon whispered. He stroked your hair gently, letting his hand trail down to your jaw, needing to see your face once more, his lips lingering near yours. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Another quick kiss gets shared, and you smile at him. 
"I really can't wait to grow old with you." You begin. "To be old and wrinkly and still be yours."
"Old, wrinkled, and in love." He chuckled lightly. "Nothing and no one can keep me from you."
Simon lifted you into his arms and twirled you around, pulling you back into his embrace. His hands gripped your waist firmly, caressing the shape of your body. "I love being with you, all the adventures and surprises. I want that forever."
Oh, how you loved this, just softly swaying with the man you loved most. When you first met Simon, this would’ve never been the way you would've seen yourself with him. 
"Is that a promise?" You murmur, as you look up at him, trying to look for any form of doubt in his eyes. "A promise." Simon planted a kiss on your forehead. "When we're eighty-five and we've had a lifetime of adventures together, you'll be holding my crusty old hand and I'll be thinking you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
The gentle swaying stopped and you looked up at him again. His words made your heartbeat a little faster. 
"You have no idea how much I look forward to being eighty-five and being able to look back on the beautiful life we had together." You whispered.
"Growing old is a privilege and I'll be so happy to do it with you."
"You may have to wheel me around on a wheelchair because of how old I'll be." He chuckled. "You'll be as beautiful as you are now."
And I could never get bored of you. I wonder what you'd look like with grey hair and wrinkles, never losing that beauty you radiate.
"I would gladly wheel you around." You laughed softly, picturing it all in your head. "I'll use your lap as a personal seat every time I get tired."
A brief moment of quiet before you started to speak again. "You'll always be the most handsome man to me."
His lips curled upwards. "I'd love anything if I could be with you."
His hands shifted from the small of your back, sliding up to your hips as he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips caressed yours, lingering longer than you would think needed.
"I want to wake up every morning and see your face in the bed beside me for the rest of our lives."
You took a deep breath, letting his sweet words linger in the air. "What did I ever do to deserve you." You whispered softly as you kissed him again. "Hmm, I think it was just sheer luck and destiny that I got to meet someone quite as amazing as you." Simon squeezed you against his body, letting his hands drift upward, back to the small of your back again. 
"I want to make happy memories with you, live out my dreams by your side. Whatever life throws at us, I don't think we'd mind if we had each other."
There is something so adorable about him, and you know that he is trying so hard to find his own spot in the military, and you also know that he is risking it all by dancing with you like this, with holding you like this, and that makes the whole thing all the better.
His large hands go to cup your face, and he looks you into your eyes, almost immediately making your breath hitch. “Tomorrow, when we are on that mission together, I want you to stay in my direct line of sight.” Simon murmured, just soft enough to hear. “I’m serious, I don’t want to worry how you’re doing, okay?’
It is tempting to argue about it, even though you’ve had this conversation with him before, you’re not a child, you do not need to be babied, but at the same time.. It is hard to put your foot down when he is looking at you like that. 
Like you’re the sun, the moon and the stars all at the same time. 
“Fine.”
And Simon couldn’t be happier. He got to protect his whole world. 
His hands give your ass a teasing squeeze, there is so much that he would like to say to you, there is so much more that he would like to do, but he needs you well rested for the mission tomorrow. It doesn’t matter that it is just routine, he has come close to losing you once, he is not going to risk it again. 
“Get some sleep.” He ordered, trying to be stern. “I need my soldiers to be in the best shape.”
Of course you knew that it would be best to get some sleep, to call it an early night. But who could blame you for trying to stay a little longer with him? 
“Oh come on!” You protest, not really wanting to pout, but that might just do the trick, your chest pressed against his, trying to get him to stay a little longer. 
And Simon had to bite his cheek, as there was nothing he would've loved to do more than to pull you closer, to let you feel how hard you’re making him. 
But your safety comes first, no matter how turned on you’re making him. 
“Maybe you can stay for the night?” You add in a soft whisper, your lips close to his ear, trying to ignite the fire inside of him. 
And dear God, Simon is just a simple man. 
He gives your ass another squeeze. Taking a deep breath to compose himself. 
“You’re being too cheeky for your own good.” Simon grumbled. “But we’re sleeping apart, and that’s final.”
He would've loved to sleep next to you, in fact, he wouldn’t want to do anything else. But he knew that the moment he got under the covers, feeling your body against his, he would be a goner, and he would do nothing more than keep you up at night. And God forbid that something would happen to you because you’re too tired to focus. Simon had seen too many losses to take risks like that. 
So his nose brushes against your jawline as he is breathing you in. It wouldn’t be fair to be selfish, he knows that he has so many more moments like these with you, yet he can’t stop himself from savouring the moment. 
Simon finally pulls back, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Go on then, before I change my mind.”
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