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swordsandholly · 5 months

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Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

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000-pawz · 4 months

Text

drunk in love (bnd legal line) ˚ · .

bnd when they're drunk/when you're drunk , bnd x fem!reader , legal line reactions/headcanons , fluff , some suggestive sprinkles here and there , established relationship

more under the cut!

a/n: thank you for the request anonie! <3 this was so fun to write

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ if you call sungho while you're drunk at a friend's house, he'll be there in record time! he's not letting you go home alone or with someone else. he's going to make sure that you get home safe himself

𐙚₊˚ sungho is the best drunk sitter ever </3 he's making sure you are consistently drinking water throughout the night, getting food into your stomach the whole time (and rewarding you with kisses along the way!), and making sure you don't fall off of a roof or something

𐙚₊˚ at parties, he watches your cup the entire time, placing his hand over the top when you lean in to hug a friend, holding it for you while you go to the bathroom and everything!!! like he does not play about your safety at all

𐙚₊˚ if you start to get a little too out of hand, he knows it's time to take you home </3 and if you complain and pout about it, he'll just sigh and try to give you an incentive to cooperate like getting to steal all of his hoodies for a month (and of course, you give in!)

𐙚₊˚ throws you over his shoulder and carries you away when it's time to go and you're too drunk to walk >< pats your butt when you tell him to put you down lol

𐙚₊˚ helps you change into one of his big t-shirts and spoons you to sleep, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, whispering 'i love yous' into your ear until you fall asleep <3

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ i see sungho as someone with a pretty high tolerance, so it may take him a few drinks to start visibly showing that he's drunk

𐙚₊˚ the first sign would be how he laughs at everything. full on belly laughs, slapping his knee, falling over and it'll simply be because someone pronounced a word wrong or something >< like that is ijbol king

𐙚₊˚ sungho is an extrovert, yes, but he becomes the extrovert's final boss when he's drunk. he pretty much carries the conversation, but he probably is a little volume deaf too, like he gets really loud and hyper (at least he's cute though)

𐙚₊˚ he doesn't really get emotional, but his emotions are more raw for sure!! he might end up in an argument with someone at some point in the night if he's left alone for too long, so please keep an eye on him!!!

𐙚₊˚ he'll probably want to kiss you a lot. like even more than usual, and that's saying something. you'll be talking with a friend and he'll come up from behind you and slip an arm around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek and then he disappears again >< or if you two are just drinking alone, he'll peck your lips literally while you are in the middle of a sentence :C his impulse control is nonexistent when he's drunk like partner pretty so he kiss! it's that simple!

𐙚₊˚ getting home with sungho would be a personal podcast in your ear... he's going to be talking the entire time with exaggerated gestures, recapping his entire lift story because his filter completely disappears when he's drunk!!! and getting him to sleep is even harder </3 he'll be silent for a few minutes before asking you yet another question, so you have to kiss his lips and shush him to sedate him <3

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ loves when you're all over him <3 sitting in his lap as you laugh with friends, kissing him all over his face, running your fingers through his hair... it makes him so happy

𐙚₊˚ will gladly take pictures of you if you ask! pretends to be your paparazzi like "miss y/n!!! over here!!!" before snapping a picture all dramatically while you pose like you're on the front cover of vogue <3 just silly and fun

𐙚₊˚ if you're under the influence, he'll want to make sure you have the most carefree, stress-free, most enjoyable experience possible! he'll compliment you the whole night so you never forget how pretty you are, makes sure you don't go past your limit, and piggybacks you while holding your heels <3

𐙚₊˚ smiles at you so fondly when you drunkenly ramble to him <3 he gives you the most cartoonish reactions to everything you're saying, and when you realize he's not actually listening and just admiring how cute you are, he just laughs softly and kisses you, urging you to continue

𐙚₊˚ feeds you throughout the night so you don't feel too sick in the morning!! as soon as you take a break from talking, he's putting a cracker in your mouth and telling you to chew lol

𐙚₊˚ very gentle when he lets you know it's time to go home, waiting patiently for you to finish saying goodbye to all your friends (even if it's the entire room of people) <3 after you surprise him with another kiss attack as soon as you step foot inside the home, he manages to get you into bed, removing your makeup for you once you're asleep, treating you like you're a piece of glass </3 he loves you sm

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ riwoo brings sweetheart energy to the function like <3 he's not that talkative when he's tipsy, choosing to just observe the scene with a smile on his face. you'll probably have to pull him up out of his seat to get him to mingle lol

𐙚₊˚ as soon as he hits the dance floor though, it's sooooo over!!! his hands will be on your hips as you guys dance, laughing into your ear, hyping you up as you break it down like!!! he'll be really touchy too, holding you from behind as he whispers into your ear, grinding into you from behind just to tease ><

𐙚₊˚ he'll probably eat a lot before drinking so he doesn't get too drunk, but it honestly never works </3 thankfully, he's able to stay pretty level-headed when he's drunk, so you never have to worry too much

𐙚₊˚ when he's drunk drunk, riwoo probably slurs his words a lot, and gets really giggly, and really corny. he'll crack the worst joke you've ever heard and then laugh at it because he thought it was the funniest thing ever (and please indulge him </3 he's too cute to not fake laugh at his jokes)

𐙚₊˚ i see him as the type to turn into jell-o when he gets really drunk. like he'll be leaning on you the entire time because if you let go, he's going straight to the floor. getting him to bed would be an entire workout because he just goes limp randomly and trips on air every three seconds pls

𐙚₊˚ riwoo definitely likes to be babied when he's drunk ^___^ he'll be giggling the entire time as you help him get his shoes off and change into more comfortable clothes like "riwoo, lift your arms up!" and he's doing it with the widest smile on his face (and if you tell him about it when he's sober, he'll be soooo embarrassed </3)

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun is probably half-concerned/half-entertained the entire time </3 he's laughing whenever you stumble over your own feet, but his hands are quick to steady you to make sure you don't hurt yourself!!!

𐙚₊˚ records you with a big smile on his face when you're dancing on tables, cheering you on the entire time. but if your skirt starts riding up, he's quick to grab you down with his hands around your waist before helping you pull your skirt down <3

𐙚₊˚ taps his cheek whenever he wants a kiss because he knows that you love to kiss him when you're drunk </3 it becomes a game between the two of you during the night, where he taps his cheek randomly and you stop whatever you're doing to kiss him lol

𐙚₊˚ indulges you in all of your drunken activities! if you want to race him down the road barefoot, he's right there with you, his shoes tossed off to the side at the ready mark. or if you want to see who can do the most cartwheels, he wraps his jacket around your waist before the competition starts and then shows off that he can do more than you!

𐙚₊˚ if you're reaching your limit, he gently takes your cup from your hands with a little "alright, that's enough for you" and if you whine, he kisses your nose and goes "how about some water instead, hm?" and you reluctantly agree because he's just so sweet

𐙚₊˚ he's so subtle with the way he cares for you, you barely even notice what's going on. you're too busy having the time of your life to realize that jaehyun has already gotten you home, washed up and changed as you talk his ear off in your drunken haze >< he responds to everything while multi-tasking, making sure you get tucked in on your side just in case before you drift off <3

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun clingy drunk agenda! he'll always want to have his hands on you in some way, whether it be hugging you from behind, holding your hand, or resting his head on your shoulder!

𐙚₊˚ probably needs to be bodyguarded when he first starts drinking. please do not dare him to do anything because he will do it. and he will prove that he can do it better than anyone has ever seen.

𐙚₊˚ although his energy is usually always at 100%, i think he mellows out a bit when he's really drunk. at first, when he's simply tipsy, he's the life of the party! cracking jokes with everyone, sparking up a conversation with anyone in his vicinity, even he's dancing on tables lol but once he gets really drunk, he gets a little quieter and sticks to your side!! (that's when you know it's time to take him home)

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun can get pretty emotional when he's drunk too. he could probably cry just from thinking about how much he loves you!! you won't even notice that he started to cry until he's sniffling, dabbing at his eyes :< and if you ask him what's wrong, he'll just be like "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." and you're just like ???<3???<3??? because it'll come out of nowhere lol

𐙚₊˚ if you aren't with him at a party or something, he'll probably text you the entire time. just like paragraphs of how much he misses you, and how he loves you so so so so much, and he'll even send you cute drunk selfies so you know he is safe and having a good time!

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun can get very very needy when he's drunk! you could be chilling at home when he comes back from a friend's house and he'll be all over you, nuzzling his nose into your neck, kissing your shoulder, subtly trying to rub against your leg because he forgets to use his words :<

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ #1 instigator. he thinks that you are so funny when you're drunk >< how you'll do and say literally anything without a second thought and he encourages it even. it's cute to him

𐙚₊˚ like if you get into a rap battle with a random busker on the street, he's throwing imaginary money and tossing in random adlibs like he's a soundcloud rapper girlfriend lol

𐙚₊˚ always has an arm over your shoulder, holding you close to his side because you look so good and he doesn't want anyone to think you are single and try to hit on you! keeps you close to him at all times

𐙚₊˚ nothing really fazes him and he's good at keeping calm. like if you start to throw up, he'll simply hold your hair out of your face and rub your back softly before cleaning you up with a tiny smile. or if you suddenly burst out into tears, he's cooing at you, wiping your cheeks with his thumb, placing kissing on your nose <3

𐙚₊˚ but if you're blackout drunk, way past your limit, he gets really serious >< he'll sit you on the kitchen counter and make sure you drink a bunch of water, his eyes on you like a hawk. he'll rub your knee comfortingly to keep you present, praising you every few seconds for doing so well for him

𐙚₊˚ he'll tease you so much once you're sober, recounting all of the crazy things you did while you were drunk >< and when you start to get embarrassed, he wraps you up in his arms and reassures you that you are still cute to him no matter what <3

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ yapper. like. he's going to be talking soooo much!!! just about anything and everything, stumbling and slurring over his words as he recounts how he saw a squirrel earlier that day or something. shares wayyyy too many tmis too

𐙚₊˚ he definitely loosens up more when he's drunk. his composure and attention span goes straight out the window. he's usually pretty composed when he's sober for the most part, but as soon as he gets a few drinks in his system, something in him flips like a switch

𐙚₊˚ please do not let him pick up the karaoke mic oh my... he's going to attempt to have a rap battle with you or try to belt out the highest notes possible. he'll put on an entire show for your whole friend group!!! he might even join in on drinking games and stuff

𐙚₊˚ wanders off easily, so please can an eye on him!! he'll get distracted by every single thing, his feet carrying him away without a second thought >< you might even lose him for an hour, and then find him sitting in the kitchen eating a bag of chips with someone's hat on and a mustache drawn on his face

𐙚₊˚ taesan can get pretty pouty when he's drunk too. especiallyyyy if you're not giving him as much attention as he wants! you could be laughing with some friends and taesan will be sitting next to you with his arms crossed and the biggest kitty pout on his face ever because? why aren't you laughing with him!!!! (pls give him lots of kisses to make up for it!!!)

𐙚₊˚ he definitely has a habit of denying that he's drunk. he'll try to dismiss your help to get him home, or refuse to drink water, and claim that he can do everything by himself. he'll literally be tripping over his own feet as you try to help him into his bed and he'll be like "nooo i'm not drunk! i swear!" and then as soon as he hits the pillow, he's out like a light

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ follows you around like a guard dog the entire night! he knows that you like to run off and do reckless stuff when you get drunk, so he's keeping his eye on you

𐙚₊˚ makes all of your drinks himself and never lets you drink out of the punch bowl <3 you like to joke that he's your personal bartender and he takes the title with pride

𐙚₊˚ if you get really drunk and start getting emotional, he's quick to comfort you, even if you won't remember anything he said in the morning. he's cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips and telling you how much he loves you!!! he thinks it's so adorable when you start crying because of how much you love him, and he reminds you that he isn't going anywhere, ever <3

𐙚₊˚ super gentle with you when helping you wind down for the night!!! he'll remove your make up and help you brush your teeth with a quiet "say ahhh", smiling softly because you are just so cute and he's so in love

𐙚₊˚ lets you space out and stare at his fish tank while he makes you food to eat before you go to sleep so you can get something in your stomach! goes to the other side of the tank and makes a funny face through the glass just to see you giggle

𐙚₊˚ already has hangover medicine ready on your side table with water and snacks if you wake up and need something!!! please thank him a bunch in the morning for how well he took care of you <33

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ second highest tolerance i think! he definitely gets drunk quicker than sungho, but it still takes him a bit!!! mostly because no one can tell if he's actually drunk or not with the way he's able to keep his composure

𐙚₊˚ i don't see him as the type to chug a bunch of drinks immediately, probably only nursing one drink for a long time. he knows his limits, and tries to stick to them because he hates being hungover the next day!!! he has to feel good so he can take care of you instead <3

𐙚₊˚ he gets sooo flirty, it's unreal. he'll literally try to talk you up even though you guys are already together!! he'll comment on how good you look, his hand rubbing your thigh, leaning in to whisper into your ear and kiss your neck ><

𐙚₊˚ he gets really soft toward the end of the night, his head resting on your shoulder as he spaces out </3 he'll probably play with your fingers while you converse with your friends, laughing quietly every now and then, but his mind is on an entirely different planet. it's okay though because he knows you'll look after him!!!

𐙚₊˚ gets pretty defiant when he's had one too many drinks lol >< like if you tell him it's time to go home, he'll plant his feet into the ground so you physically cannot drag him away with a teasing look on his face. he might even just take a seat on the floor and look up at you with big puppy dogs eyes because he doesn't want to go yet!

𐙚₊˚ he sobers up pretty quickly and is usually fine by the time you guys get home!!! he'd probably want to shower together before cuddling up to you like a big teddy bear, usually asleep within a minutes, surrounded by your warmth <3

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

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reasonsforhope · 1 month

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"In drought-stricken areas, communities facing water shortages, or even in residential and commercial buildings eager to improve their environmental footprints, atmospheric water generators represent a new frontier in water production.

While it might sound like a tidbit from a science fiction movie, even the driest places on earth have moisture in the air that can be extracted and used for everyday necessities like plumbing and drinking.

Unlike traditional dehumidifiers, which also pull moisture from the air, AWGs utilize filtration and sterilization technology to make water safe to drink.

And while there are plenty of AWG companies out there — and the science itself isn’t novel — AWGs are becoming more efficient, affordable, and revolutionary in combating water scarcity in a myriad of communities.

Aquaria Technologies, a San Francisco-based AWG startup, was founded in 2022 to help provide affordable and clean drinking water in areas most affected by climate change.

Using heat exchange and condensation, Aquaria’s generators draw air into their systems, cool that air below its dew point, and as it condenses, capture that water and filter it for consumption.

As the cycle continues, the generator’s refrigerant vaporizes and goes through a process that cools it back into a liquid, meaning the heat transfer cycle repeats continuously in an energy-efficient and self-sustaining system.

“I’m sure you’ve had the experience in the summer, you take a glass of a cold drink out of the fridge and then water droplets form on the side of the bottle,” Aquaria’s co-founder and CEO Brian Sheng, said in a podcast episode. “That’s actually condensation.”

Sheng continued: “The question is, how do we create condensation? How do we extract water out of the air in large volume and using little energy? That’s what our technology does. We have created both active and passive cooling methods where we use special materials, and we’ve created heat exchange and recovery systems and airflow design, such that we’re maximizing heat exchange, and then we’re able to extract large volumes of water.”

Aquaria has created a number of generators, but its stand-alone model — the Hydropack X — can replace an entire home’s dependence on municipal water, producing as much as 264 gallons of potable water per day.

Other models, like the Hydrostation, can provide water for up to 1,500 people at parks, construction sites, or other outdoor public areas. The Hydropixel can make 24 gallons of water per day for a seamless at-home application, requiring a simple outlet for power.

“Atmospheric water generators present a groundbreaking solution to the global challenge of clean water scarcity, leveraging the humidity present in the air to produce potable water,” the company’s website explains.

“This technology is versatile, functioning efficiently across diverse climates — from arid regions to tropical settings. From rural communities in developing countries to advanced cities facing unexpected droughts, atmospheric water generators have a wide range of applications… transforming lives and providing secure, clean water sources.”

Considering an estimated 2.2 billion people lack access to clean water globally — including in American cities like Flint, Michigan, or Modesto, California — innovative solutions like AWGs are vital to maintaining the basic human right to clean water.

The World Economic Forum has begun to dip its toes into this technology as well, implementing public and private partnerships to introduce AWG units in Arizona’s Navajo Nation, where the machines produce about 200 gallons of clean water per day.

“When combined with an appropriate level of community engagement and triple-bottom-line business (people, planet, profit),” a blog post for WE Forum said, “this model can be a powerful stopgap solution where few exist today.”

Similarly, according to New Atlas, Aquaria has a partnership with developers to supply its technology to a 1,000-home community in Hawaii later this year, relying entirely on atmospherically generated water.

The company also has a “Frontier Access Program,” which partners with water-related NGOs, community project developers, and sustainable development groups to deploy this technology in areas most in need.

Regardless of their use cases — in homes, in communities facing water shortages, or at aid sites navigating natural disasters — AWGs have a minimal environmental impact. Sourcing water “from thin air,” requires no plastic bottles, no large-scale plants using up loads of energy, and no byproducts that can harm the environment."

-via GoodGoodGood, August 27, 2024

#water #water shortage #drought #united states #solar power #sustainability #clean water #human rights #good news #hope #solarpunk

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joelswritingmistress · 2 months

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Neighbors with Benefits: Part 2 (Joel Miller x f! Reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge put on by @hellishjoel 🙏 Thanks again for this overabundance of Dilfy Pedro content & promotion 🥵

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: Roughly 4000

Warning: Dilfy Smut/ Age Gap (23 & 42)

“(Y/N), do you want some money for pizza?" The voice sounded like a distant echo. "(Y/N)... (Y/N)?"

You finally snapped out of a daydream and turned to your mother in the kitchen from the sink where you aimlessly washed dishes. "Huh?"

"Do you want some money to order a pizza or are you going to have something here?" Your mother waited for a response that was taking you an extra long time to give.

"Oh." You cleared your throat and looked at the soapy bowl in your hands, "No... no I'll eat something here."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded. "Yeah there's... soup and stuff."

"Soup?" Your mother asked, "It’s eighty-eighty degrees outside.”

You shrugged. "I had a turkey sub for a late lunch. I'm fine." You managed a smile, "What time will you and Dad be back?"

"Well the banquet starts at seven." She eyed the ceiling as she thought, "I can't see us being out much past ten."

Your father wandered down the stairs straightening his tie that completed a black suit, "How do I look?"

"Dapper dear."

You laughed, "Dapper? Is that still a word?"

"Hey if selfie is a word," your father contested, "Then, yes, dapper is a word. And I'll take it." He kissed your mother on the cheek, "Are we ready to go?"

"Just about." Jennifer glanced at you again.

"I'll be fine." You shoo'd them with your hand, "You guys look great."

Tim reached into his wallet and handed his daughter a twenty. "Just take it," he ordered with a grin when you began to refuse. “In case you change your mind about the pizza.”

"Fine." You smiled and tucked it into your jeans and then kissed them each on the cheek. "Have fun."

The two of them waved and then headed toward the front door, locking it behind them and heading off for the evening.

You continued with the dishes, unable to put the events of the night before out of your mind. You knew you had officially crossed a line - a big line. You had had one of the hottest moments of your life the night before with your much-older neighbor. All day you had kept an eye out for Joel. Once you'd seen him outside watering flowers in the front of the house and another time washing his car. With your parents quite literally over your shoulder it proved to be harder to pursue his offers than you would have thought.

All the more reason to have my own place, you thought.

You turned off the faucet and dried your hands before making your way up into your bedroom. You had begun to feel like a stalker, staking out Joel's every move and looking for some opportunity or excuse to go over there to see him.

"Where ya headed?" Joel's voice filtered in through the open window in your room and you rushed to the window to listen.

You swallowed hard, watching as he sat on a rider lawn mower shouting to your parents who hadn't yet left the driveway.

"Retirement dinner!" Your father shouted, "Open bar!"

"Even better." Joel put his hands out to the sides and gave a wave. "Enjoy!"

You took a breath and saw him kick the mower back into gear before continuing on down the yard. You couldn't take your eyes off of him and only did to watch your parents' vehicle vacate the premises with a friendly double-beep of the horn as they headed a few towns away to a fancy dinner for a friend.

Do I go over there? you wondered. Will I look too desperate? Your heart raced and all of a sudden you felt like you were in high school again - waiting for your parents to leave so you could talk to some guy you were crushing on. Not just some guy, you knew. He was more than you had bargained for in the best of ways.

With a deep breath you took a glance at yourself and changed from the plain, pink t-shirt into a fresh cami from the closet before reapplying some deodorant and giving a spritz from her best Victoria's Secret body spray collection.

I'll just go grab a beer and sit outside, you decided with a nod before ripping the hair-tie from your hair and letting it fall in a naturally messy fashion around your face.

You darted down the steps, reached for a bottle of Bud Lite and headed out the back door to sit on the steps. Your heart was pounding now and flashes of memories from the night before continued to rattle your brain, sending electric currents to every part of your body. You didn't want the encounter to be a one-time ordeal and so when you saw him casually ride up and down in the next yard over you couldn't help but stare.

He's busy. You didn't know if you meant what you were thinking or if you were just scared to go over there and talk to him.

Each second felt like a minute; each minute like an hour. You adjusted from sitting to standing, to sitting again and then decided to pretend to check the mailbox, though you couldn't have cared less if there was mail or not. All you wanted was for Joel to notice you.

Like before, your heart thudded with each step as you crossed the yard and rounded the house that was adjacent to Joel's. His back was to you, and for that you cursed to yourself but you continued the walk toward the driveway, glancing out of the corner of your eye as he put the mower in reverse and turned to face your direction. As your feet waltzed over the pavement you saw him glance over, letting his stare linger as you paced the length of driveway before reaching the mailbox.

You swallowed hard, noting there was nothing to retrieve and then took a deep breath as you prepared your walk back. Again, Joel’s back was to you and he continued what he was doing, mowing perfectly straight rows up and down the lawn.

You sighed, noting it was only halfway done and the impatience that radiated out of you began to drive you mad. Still, next door Joel didn't falter. He carried on with a sense of patience and control that it almost made you feel crazy.

He doesn't seem to be in any rush, why should I?

You sipped your beer again and then reluctantly went in the house when Joel disappeared around the opposite side of his. You scrunched your nose and turned on the television to try to pass some time, though you opened up the living room windows so you could hear the hum of the lawnmower.

You actively felt yourself growing weaker as you relived the moment in the bathroom yet again - his face a few inches from yours while his fingers explored your most sensitive areas. You imagined his inability to control himself in the midst of his climax that left him cursing and moaning with no regard for anything but the way you were making him feel. And his eyes; his eyes burned into your soul and made you submit to him in ways that no other man had. Never in your life had you been enamored so quickly or fallen so hard and fast for someone. It was all brand new and exciting.

It's driving me crazy!

When the lawnmower went off you muted the television and listened, wanting to burst out the front door and run over next door. You knew you couldn't do that - not if you wanted to look like you could handle the passion that was brewing between you and Joel. He wouldn't tolerate some clingy little girl. You knew he needed a woman - a hot, young woman to satisfy him.

You tapped your foot and bit down on your fingernails until they were as short as they could possibly go. As the world grew darker your hopes began to fade. Truthfully, you didn't know if you had the balls to go over and knock on the door of his house. Though, without warning, fate finally appeared to be on your side.

A light knock at the back door made you freeze. Your body went numb and you swallowed hard, able to hear the beating of your own heart. On a second knock, you sprung to your feet and began to rush through the living room. The closer you got, the slower you moved in an attempt to look like you had your shit together. You didn't - not even a little bit. Still, you were addicted to the feeling and the suspense that went along with your short bout of time knowing Joel. If it was anyone else at the back door you knew you might lose it, and so when you flung it open and he stood there still in his yard clothes, you couldn't help but smile as excitement and relief filtered through your body.

"Hi." You smiled at him.

"Hi." Joel's voice cut straight through you. A familiar tantalizing chill ran down your spine.

You stepped aside and held the door, prompting him to slowly ease himself inside. As if it was already a habit he removed his work boots and closed the door behind him, leaving them on a mat so as not to make a mess. The action made you grin and you glanced up at him.

"You, uh... you cool with the shit that went down last night?" Joel asked, leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

You nodded. "Yeah."

"You sure?" The human lie-detector in him studied your features more intently now though he could tell from the smirk you were fighting off, your big excited eyes and the reddening flush in your face that you were being truthful.

"Yeah, I'm sure." You nodded and Joel looked around for a moment. "My parents are... gone."

"Until when?"

"Ten."

His eyes landed on a clock that read seven-thirty-six and then he returned his gaze to meet yours. "The mail doesn't come on Sundays."

"What?" you looked at him, "Yeah, I know..."Your voice trailed off and you felt your face grow a shade darker again.

Joel began to chuckle, "I was sure you did."

You shook your head and sighed, putting your hands on your hips for a moment before casting them out to the sides. He had seen right through your little stroll up the driveway.

"You could've just come over ya know." He gave a closed-mouth smile accompanied by playful eyes.

"I didn't want to bother you when you were mowing the lawn."

Joel smiled, "I was just fuckin’ killing time.. waiting around.. hoping you’d bring by some butter.”

"You were?" You smiled a little wider, pleased to know that you weren’t the only one who felt the anxiety that went along with the cat-and-mouse game you were actively involved in.

"My dick's been hard half the day thinking of last night. Took some serious will power not to fuckin' take care of it myself."

Fuck. What a visual that was.

You giggled but felt that familiar flush in your cheeks again as you leaned back against the counter across from him. Joel grinned when you began to twirl the blinds closed in front of the kitchen window.

For a moment he stared across the room, taking every part of you in from where he stood and eyed each twirl of your fingers around the blinds. When you moved to the next window to assure your privacy, he stalked quietly, waiting for you to begin to close the blinds on the second window before moving in behind to wrap an arm around your midsection.

You felt it again - the electricity. His touch shot currents through your body like you had never experienced. Your eyes closed as he kissed your neck; you whimpered as his fingers carefully undid the button of your jeans. He teased you by letting them dance just an inch or two below your waistline.

Joel reached for your hand, placing it on the front of his jeans and began to nibble on your earlobe. You bit your bottom lip when you felt his hard-on through his pants. "This is what you fuckin' do to me," he whispered.

"Mmm..." you moaned, keeping your eyes closed, "You already know what you do to me,” you told him, pushing his hand farther down your pants so he could feel the dampness that had lingered there since seeing him out on the lawn mower.

He moaned against you, pushing his erection against you from behind and continued to ravage your ear. "I've been dreaming of what you feel like all day." Joel continued to whisper, becoming more aroused by the second.

"God..." you pressed your eyes shut, your arousal spiking now from his words. When you felt his hands sweep down over the thin straps of your cami, you slunk your arms out of it, allowing him the access to grasp both of your breasts from behind. His hot breaths continued to land on your neck. When you heard him undo his zipper you almost couldn't take it. You sighed out loud and reciprocated his advances when he bent you over in front of the back door so your hands were pressed firmly against it.

Joel dropped his pants, stepping out of them with ease and removed himself from the black boxer-briefs he was left standing in. With a swift move he fingered your underwear to the side and positioned himself so at your entrance.The anticipation was almost too much.

You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes as you waited those long couple of seconds until finally feeling him for the first time. Inch by inch he eased in.When Joel pushed fully inside of you, you moaned

“Ughh…”. His deep, desperate breaths from behind made you feel weaker in the knees, though when his big, strong hands clamped down on the outsides of your hips and he started thrusting you were taken to a whole new level of pleasure.

"Fuck..." You were barely able to get the word out as he wasted no time, pumping hard and relentlessly into you; though when he didn’t stop you couldn’t contain yourself. “Oh..my..God.” You couldn’t hold it in.

Joel closed his eyes, switching his hands from your hips to her shoulders. He tried to remain in control of the feeling, but everything about you got the best of him. The way your back was arched; the way his name echoed off the kitchen walls as you moaned uncontrollably. You couldn’t help it.

As a man who often prided himself on control, Joel was the one who was overwhelmed with a desire so intense that he felt like he could come already at any second. It was why he was forced to pull out, replacing his dick with fingers so he could continue to pleasure you.

“Joel.” You whined his name and your fingers curled against the door, widening your feet again to assure he could do whatever he wanted. Your head dropped and your midsection went weak. “Fuck.” When he removed his fingers this time he pulled you back to him, spinning your around to face him and then crashed his lips against yours.

Joel's tongue dominated you and you wrapped your arms around him. Both of you moaned together as you took a breath in the kiss before he picked you up by the backs of your legs and set you down on the kitchen counter so you faced him. For another few seconds you continued to make out fiercely until he finally reconnected himself to you again at the edge of the marble.

You met his half-open eyes as he proceed to fuck you raw. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and left the other pressed firmly into the counter with your calves digging into the backs of his legs. He appeared as if he was barely hanging on, though everything he was doing was effectively leading you toward an orgasm.

Your eyes closed now and your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders. You tightened your legs around him and whimpered. It left your thighs aching; your stomach taut. The strength of what was building was mind-blowing, and you begged him not to stop as you let yourself go, releasing a moan you didn’t know you had in you. It was primal and raw, accompanying a burst of pleasure that pulsed with such ferocity that Joel groaned from the recognition of your climatic moment.

"Holy fuck..” He barely got the second word out and gripped your hips harder before releasing inside of you, complimenting your orgasm with a powerful one of his own. Joel let out a guttural moan and had trouble catching his breath as the feeling lingered. Joel kissed you hard as he finished completely, leaving an ache on your lips as he breathed his final breaths into your mouth.

You held onto him hard. Sweat coated his heaving back beneath your palms as he breathed heavily and rested his forehead against yours, now dormant inside of you.

"Fuck," he whispered against your lips and pulled your hips closer to his, thrusting slowly into you once more as if to assure you had gotten every single drop from him.

"Mmm..." you hummed a moan, keeping your arms slung loosely around him. In that moment, you knew you could easily get in too deep, too fast.

When his lips lazily danced against yours again you felt the same electricity as when he'd first entered the house. Your new mission was not to fall in love.

"Any of them college boys ever fuck you like that?" Joel whispered, half-smirking with heavy, satisfied eyes. He hummed another quiet moan and nibbled sensually on your earlobe.

Your senses hadn't quite turned to normal and your face glowed a shade darker. You breathed out the word, “No.”

Joel pecked your lips a few more times in a row before finally separating himself from you.

All of it still felt a bit surreal. For the first time ever you didn't have a care in the world for what kind of consequences could stem from your actions. Joel didn't take his eyes off of you. The lazy post-coital gleam in his eye was unmistakable and you finally chuckled when he failed to look away from here.

"What?" you tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Joel's face twisted into a mischievous smirk. "Let me see your phone." He kissed you once more before pushing back off the counter to retrieve his pants from the floor.

"My phone?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "Your phone." Joel began to get dressed and you slowly slunk off the countertop, feeling a heaviness in your thighs.

You glanced around the kitchen, not wholly aware of where you'd left it and then reached a few feet away across the counter when it finally caught your eye.

Joel waited patiently, still smirking to himself. "Punch the code in, honey."

You did as he asked and were tempted to ask what he was doing, but ultimately decided you had nothing to hide and slipped the phone into his waiting palm.

"What the hell was that friend of yours name from the bar last night?" He asked.

You pressed her eyebrows together, a small bout of jealousy filling your body. "Holly. Why?"

Joel kept his eyes on the small screen in front of him, letting his tongue dance over his lips in amusement as his thumbs began to type away at the screen.

The anxious butterflies returned to your stomach and you were dying to know what he was writing.

Joel continued to smirk, almost laughing to himself, and then a noise went off that indicated he'd successfully sent a text message. "Here." He tossed the phone back and sat down at a chair at the kitchen table, crossing one foot over the other, waiting in anticipation as you read what he'd written.

Your eyes scanned the screen and you couldn't contain a wide grin when you saw that he had texted her parents claiming you were spending the night at Holly's house.

When your eyes lifted to meet his, Joel maintained a smile and waited for what you would say.

You decide to tease him. "I'm not staying at Holly's house tonight."

"I know." He nodded matter-of-factly.

You snickered, knowing what he was getting at. "What about my car? My parents will see it in the garage."

Joel waved a hand again, requesting the phone back.

You handed it over, smiling as he sent another message before tossing it back to you again.

"Holly is on her way to pick me up," you read aloud.

Joel cleared his throat and then rested his hands behind his head. Before either of you could say anything more your phone went off and he chuckled, prompting you to put your finger to your lips over an ear-to-ear grin.

"Now, I thought you were an adult and could do whatever the fuck you wanted." He winked and you fought back a laugh as you answered the phone.

"Hi Mom." You made eye contact with Joel who you knew was gaining far too much amusement from the situation. "Yeah I'll text you when we get to her house... no we're not going out drinking." You paused, “Yeah I'll get us some pizza with the money." Another pause. "Okay, goodnight."

When you hung up the phone you eyed Joel again who appeared more than satisfied about the situation. "How will I get back over here without being noticed?"

“I've put all the pieces of this plan into motion,” he reminded you, “Time for you to be creative." Joel slipped his boots back on. "I'm going to shower," he informed you.

“Okay.” You reached down for your jeans, still standing next-to-naked in the center of the kitchen.

Joel made his way back to you, resting his fingers beneath your chin and tapping just under your lips with his thumb. He then leaned down and gave you a chaste kiss. "Pack a bag. I'll leave my back door unlocked."

CLICK HERE FOR PART 3

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @smolbeanzzz

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zweiginator · 3 months

Note

Drunk sex w patrick after a party perhaps???? Like you both get wasted and it’s just super messy and sloppy and hot 🤞🏻🩷😗

you both having the most massive crush on each other but you’re both way too stubborn to admit it. literally won’t make the first move. but as soon as alcohol is involved at this party you’re at— anything is game.

You shouldn’t even like him—he’s rude and cocky and has had everything in his life handed to him on a silver platter. but he’s addicting. those pretty green eyes and how his muscles ripple underneath his shirt.

he comes up to you and asks you bluntly, with a drunken slur: “why haven’t we fucked yet?”

“how fucking drunk are you?” you’re getting there too—but lord, Patrick has no filter on his words or how he’s looking at you right now. it’s making you starve for him.

“drunk words are sober feelings or whatever that quote is.” He stumbles into you a bit. “but actually—I know you want me.”

Again, with the cockiness.

“you sure?” you stand closer to him; he’s clearly looking down your shirt.

“I know you do.” so fuck me already.”

plenty of people are looking at the two of you; they’re ready to intervene, but you like his attention. You despise how much you fucking need it.

you feel his forehead; a plan comes to mind.

“are you okay? you look pale.”

“stop trying to change the subject.”

you grab his hand. “here, let’s get you to the bathroom.”

the door shuts.

“I’m not-im not sick. ‘m fine.” Patrick says.

“I know.” you pull him by the collar of his button up, using your other hand to fumble the buttons open.

“oh fuck.” he smiles at your desperation.

you kiss down his chest until you get to his belt. looking up at him, he looks perfect. abs flexed and toned, lips red and bitten. the veins in his arms protrude as he holds onto the sink for purchase.

his cock is heavy on your tongue, and you suck on the head, looking up at him. your eyes water as you push him deeper and deeper down your throat. when you lick down his shaft and suck on his balls, spit dribbling down your chin, Patrick is so loud you have to tell him to shut up.

but he can’t—and he doesn’t want to.

he pulls you to his level and kisses you hard, tasting himself on your tongue as he spits and drools into your mouth. groans as his fingers feel how wet your cunt is.

“fuck me.” he says. he’s almost begging. “fuck me here.”

you get him on the floor and he pushes your panties to the side, lining his weeping cock to your entrance.

“wait-“ you say. “The door’s unlocked.”

he pulls you close so your forehead is touching his. “don’t care.”

you sink down on him slowly, slowly and then all at once. he’s so fucking big and you almost want to tell him. but he knows from the look on your face, how your cunt stretches around him.

his hips buck up into you and he won’t shut up. his pleasure along with his drunkenness has him literally drooling for you.

you don’t know what comes over you, but you shove your fingers into his mouth and slap him hard with your other hand. “shut up or I won’t fuck you ever again.”

“oh Jesus Christ-“ Patrick doesn’t listen to you. Of course he doesn’t. “Bull fucking shit.”

he smirks up at you, his hands finding your hips to fuck up into you.

you test the water; you like how he responds to your dirty talk, how he wants you to take control.

“such a dirty fucking boy.” you tell him, grabbing his jaw.

he nods, his mouth hanging open as a cracked moan comes out.

“all yours—please fuck me harder.”

“open your mouth.”

it’s almost funny how fast he’s listening now. you spit onto his tongue and his hips buck up, his balls loud against your ass. Pre cum drips out of your cunt and down your legs.

“I’m cumming—where do i?”

you pull off of him and suck him into his mouth, feeling his hot cum spurt onto your tongue, into the back of your throat. some lands on the corner of your mouth, and Patrick gathers it with his thumb and sucks it into his mouth.

“next time, I’m fucking you.”

“who said there’s a next time?” You pull your dress down.

“i did.”

#ask #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut

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soulofapatrick · 8 months

Text

Nothing Changes - Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: You wake the next morning to an empty bed and panic

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: None; fluffy

Notes: I'm really sorry for writing so much Hotch, I'm rewatching criminal minds and all these story ideas for him have been on my mind

Waking up to an empty bed, I feel my heart sink as the realization hits me: Hotch isn’t lying beside me anymore. Panic flutters in my chest as my mind races through a flurry of thoughts. Of course, he left. He couldn’t stay, not without risking our jobs, our reputations, and maybe even our friendship. What if one of the team found out? What would they think of me? They’d probably assume I’m taking advantage of Hotch, especially considering it’s only been two years since Haley’s passing. The man seems to still be grieving, and here I am, complicating things even more.

The distant sound of the shower running breaks through my panic, and relief floods through me, mingling with a tinge of nervousness. Maybe he hadn’t left entirely. Maybe there’s still a chance, a hope that last night wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness, but something more. Last night was the first time we gave in to the building sexual tension between us.

His clothes are still strewn across my room, a tangible reminder of the intimacy we shared. I can’t help but replay the events of last night in my mind—the way his touch ignited a fire within me, the way his eyes held mine with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. The way he was so gentle yet so dominant, knowing how to work my body right.

As I slowly come to wakefulness, the sound of the shower grows louder, filling the empty space with its steady rhythm. Part of me longs to join him, to lose myself in the warmth of his embrace once more. But another part of me hesitates, afraid of what this newfound connection might mean for us both.

Before I can decide both of our phones are ringing, the shrill sound makes my head hurt and I’m groaning, burying my face in the pillow Hotch had previously slept on. The phones ring till they stop and I count to four before both start ringing again, ruining the peace this almost domestic moment.

I’m smacking the bed in faint protest before wriggling over to the nearest phone and answering, “Yeah?”

No one speaks for a second before I recognise JJ clearing her throat, “We need you in, we’ve got a case.” There’s amusement in her tone that has me frowning before my heart drops for the second time this morning.

“JJ…” I pause, swallowing thickly, “This is Hotch’s phone, isn’t it?” I groan, turning my head to look at the bedside table to see my phone sitting there, “Oh god!”

“I won’t say a word,” She pauses and I hear her stifle a small laugh, I won’t tell if you tell me all about it on girls night.”

“Deal.” I reluctantly agree before hanging up and throwing Hotch’s phone somewhere on the bed.

I climb out of bed, feeling the cool air against my skin as I pad to the bathroom, wearing nothing but Hotch’s button up I throw on haphazardly, not bothering to do it up.

Hotch stands under the shower, his silhouette obscured by the mist, like a figure emerging from a dream. The gentle stream of water traces the contours of his body, sculpting shadows and highlights that accentuate every line and sinew. Droplets cling to his skin, glistening like diamonds in the soft light filtering through the steam.

His shoulders, broad and powerful, bear the weight of countless burdens, yet in this moment, they seem almost weightless, as if the water washes away the weight of the world. The water cascades over his chest, tracing the ripple of muscle, each movement a testament to strength and resilience.

His jawline is sharp, chiseled, a portrait of determination and resolve. The water courses over it, tracing the curve of his lips, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners. There’s a vulnerability in that smile, a glimpse of the man behind the stoic facade, and it steals my breath away.

His eyes, closed in peaceful repose, are hidden from view, yet I can imagine them so clearly—deep pools of darkness, windows to a soul that has weathered storms and emerged unbroken. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and in that moment, I feel as though I can see straight into his.

Every inch of him is a study in contrasts—the strength and vulnerability, the resilience and tenderness—all wrapped up in one beautiful, complex package. And as I watch him, bathed in the gentle embrace of the water, I feel something stir within me, something deep and unspoken.

It’s as if with each droplet that falls, my heart beats a little faster, my breath catches a little tighter. In that moment, I realize just how deeply I’ve fallen for him, how every part of me longs to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and never let go.

I give in to that want, stepping towards the shower, the warm water enveloping me like a comforting embrace. With a quick motion, I shrug off his shirt, feeling the fabric slip from my skin, and I step under the water next to him. Droplets cascade over us, mingling with the steam, as I close the distance between us.

My fingers tremble as I reach out, brushing lightly up his toned bicep, tracing the contours of muscle beneath his skin. A small sound escapes him, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, as he looks down to meet my gaze. His cognac eyes soften as they meet mine, warmth and affection swirling within their depths.

His hands find my hips, fingers tracing patterns against my skin, as if mapping out the curves and contours of my body. There’s a tenderness in his touch, a gentleness that belies the strength of the man before me. With each caress, he stirs something deep within me, igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment.

I feel a surge of longing, an ache that resonates deep within my soul, as his touch sends shivers coursing through me. It’s as if every nerve in my body is alight with electricity, every sense heightened by the intensity of his presence.

And then, without hesitation, he pulls me flush against him, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss. It’s a collision of desire and longing, a meeting of souls bound together by the undeniable pull of attraction. His lips are soft against mine, a gentle exploration that sets my heart ablaze.

“Can we just stay here?” I mumble, pulling away from the kiss to rest my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my cheek. I don’t care if we’re late, if I have to dry my hair before we leave, if we miss the plane. I don’t care for anything except the safety of Hotch’s strong arms wrapped around me.

“I don’t suppose the only reason you came in was to shower with me, was it?” He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him, an eyebrow raise and an amused look on his face.

“No,” I can’t help but pout, drawing a chuckle from him and he ducks down to press a kiss to my forehead, “we have a case.”

“Well,” he brushes my now wet hair from my face, “We have about an hour.”

“It takes me 45 on a good day Hotch.” I grumble and his eyes widen a little in disbelief as I’ve never told anyone where I live let alone how long it takes me to get to work until now. Until the very man I’ve been dreaming of for months is standing, very, very naked in my shower.

“Alright sweetheart, we’ll pick up some coffee on the way in.” My heart flutters at the pet name, my cheeks heating up and I’m burying my face in his muscular chest, “Sweetheart?”

“What happens when we enter the office?” I mumble against his chest.

“Nothing has to change.”

“Nothing has to change?”

“I promise”

Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka

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writeriguess · 1 month

Note

this is a prompt I’ve had on my mind for a long time now and I wonder how people would write it

it’s wear Y/N is a mermaid who was captured by Reginald and being held captive in a secret pond in the mansion. where Y/N is from the Hargreeves are considered Gods/Deities and Allison is the first to find her and Y/N calls Allison "princess" upon meeting her. The Hargreeves get Y/N out of the pond where they learn mermaids can grow legs on dry land and Y/N ends up falling in love with Five and they have a baby in the future

You open your eyes to darkness, as you always do. The water is cool against your skin, the liquid murkiness around you a familiar shroud. The pond you're trapped in isn't large, but it's deep, its cavernous walls rough and unyielding, holding you in their grasp. You've tried to escape countless times, swimming in circles, clawing at the edges, but there is no way out. The pond’s boundaries are imbued with an energy that saps your strength whenever you draw near, a barrier that keeps you tethered here, in this mansion.

A prison, not of stone or metal, but of water.

Your mind wanders back to the day you were taken, the day your world changed forever. You remember the rough hands, the nets that tangled in your tail, the cold, calculating eyes of the man who brought you here. He called himself Reginald Hargreeves, a name whispered in fear by your people. To the merfolk, he was a figure of legend, a creature from the land who could bind the sea, a man who sought the unknown and bent it to his will. And now, you are his captive, a living artifact locked away beneath his grand mansion.

Time passes differently here. You can't tell how long you've been in the pond—days, months, years? They blur together in the unchanging darkness. You have only your memories for company, and the faint hope that one day, somehow, you’ll be free.

And then, one day, something changes.

You’re resting on the smooth, sandy bottom of the pond when you hear it—a sound that isn’t the usual creak of the mansion settling or the distant hum of life above. No, this is different. It’s a voice, soft and lilting, filtering down through the water. Curious, you push off the bottom and swim upward, peeking out from beneath the water’s surface.

Through the ripples, you see her—a woman standing by the edge of the pond. She’s beautiful, with warm brown skin and a mane of dark curls that frame her face. Her eyes are wide with wonder as she gazes down into the water, and you can sense the power radiating from her, a power unlike any you’ve felt before. She must be one of them, you think. One of the beings your people revere as gods.

You float just below the surface, watching her. She’s talking to herself, or maybe to you, though she doesn’t know you’re listening. Her voice is gentle, full of compassion, and you feel an inexplicable pull toward her. You’ve never seen one of the Hargreeves up close before, never imagined them as anything other than the legends whispered among your people. Yet here she is, not a distant deity but a living, breathing person.

You can’t help yourself. You break the surface, the water parting around you as you rise, your eyes locking with hers. Her gasp of surprise is the first real sound you’ve heard in ages, and it sends a thrill through you.

“Princess,” you murmur, your voice hoarse from disuse but still carrying the reverence you feel. She stares at you, her mouth open in shock, and you realize she wasn’t expecting to find someone like you here. You aren’t sure what she was expecting, but it clearly wasn’t a mermaid.

“I… I’m Allison,” she says, her voice trembling slightly, though she quickly composes herself. “Who are you?”

“Y/N,” you reply, tilting your head slightly. “You are one of the gods.”

Allison frowns, a line appearing between her brows. “No, I’m… I’m not a god. I’m just… part of the Umbrella Academy.”

But to you, that means little. In your world, the Hargreeves family is more than just human—they’re divine, beings of unimaginable power and grace. You’ve seen glimpses of them through the water, their lives full of turmoil and triumph, but never have you imagined that one of them would find you, speak to you.

“Please, Princess,” you say again, the title slipping from your lips with ease. “Help me.”

Allison’s frown deepens as she kneels by the water’s edge, reaching out as if to touch you, but she hesitates, her hand hovering just above the surface. “How long have you been here?” she asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you admit, glancing away. “A long time. Since your father… brought me here.”

She looks horrified, and you can see the wheels turning in her mind, the realization of what’s been done to you settling in. “He did this to you?”

You nod, a sadness settling over you. “He captured me. I am bound to this pond, unable to leave.”

Allison pulls back, standing up abruptly, her face a mask of determination. “I’m getting you out of here,” she declares, turning on her heel and striding away.

For the first time in as long as you can remember, you feel a flicker of hope.

Allison returns quickly, and she’s not alone. With her are her siblings—each of them as extraordinary as she is, each one a legend in their own right. They gather around the pond, their expressions a mixture of curiosity, concern, and, in one case, amusement.

“What have we here?” a man with tousled hair and a mischievous grin drawls, leaning forward to get a better look at you. He smells faintly of alcohol, and there’s a strange, otherworldly air about him.

“Klaus,” Allison admonishes, but there’s no real bite to her tone. She turns back to you, her eyes softening. “This is Y/N. We need to help her.”

Another man steps forward, his gaze sharp and calculating, as if he’s already considering a hundred different possibilities. His hair is dark, and there’s a weariness to him that belies his youth. He doesn’t speak immediately, but you can feel the weight of his stare, the way he assesses you.

You know, instinctively, that this is Five, the one who is both feared and revered among your people. The one who walks through time as easily as others walk through the sea. When his eyes meet yours, there’s a spark of something that passes between you—something that makes your heart beat faster, though you don’t quite understand why.

“What are we dealing with here?” he finally asks, his voice as sharp as his gaze.

“She’s a mermaid,” Allison explains, her hand gesturing to the pond. “Father… he trapped her here.”

There’s a murmur of shock among them, but Five’s expression doesn’t change. “And you want us to free her.”

“Yes,” Allison says firmly. “She’s been here for who knows how long. She deserves to be free.”

Five considers this for a moment before nodding. “Alright. But it won’t be easy. Father would have placed some serious protections around this place.”

“I can handle it,” another sibling—a tall, muscular man with a commanding presence—says confidently. He steps forward, cracking his knuckles. You recognize him as Luther, the one your people speak of as a warrior.

But Allison stops him with a hand on his arm. “We need to be careful. We don’t know what will happen if we just… break the barrier.”

Five’s eyes narrow in concentration, and he raises a hand, his fingers tracing the air as if he’s feeling for something invisible. “There’s a spell,” he mutters. “A strong one. But I think… I think I can disrupt it.”

The others watch as he focuses, his brow furrowing in concentration. You feel a tingling in the water around you, a shift in the energy that’s kept you trapped for so long. For a moment, nothing happens, and then, with a sudden jolt, the barrier shatters, sending ripples through the pond.

You gasp, the sensation of freedom flooding through you. Tentatively, you swim to the edge, pulling yourself up onto the stone ledge. As soon as your body leaves the water, something strange happens. Your tail, once sleek and powerful, begins to change, splitting into two, forming legs. You cry out in surprise, the sensation overwhelming, but Allison is there, catching you as you tumble forward.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs soothingly, helping you steady yourself. “You’re alright.”

You look down at your new legs, still damp and shimmering faintly with scales that fade as you dry. The transformation is complete, and you’re left feeling unsteady, vulnerable. But Allison’s presence is comforting, and when she smiles at you, you can’t help but smile back.

“Can you walk?” she asks gently.

“I… I think so,” you stammer, taking an experimental step. It’s strange, this new way of moving, but you find your balance quickly enough. The others watch you with a mixture of awe and curiosity, but it’s Five’s gaze you feel the most keenly. He’s still watching you, his expression unreadable.

“Welcome to dry land,” Klaus says with a flourish, bowing dramatically. “And what an entrance!”

You manage a small laugh, feeling more at ease despite the situation. But there’s a question burning in your mind, one you can’t keep to yourself any longer.

“What will happen to me now?”

Allison exchanges a glance with her siblings before answering. “You’re free now, Y/N. You can do whatever you want. We’ll help you adjust, if you want to stay here… or we can help you return to the sea.”

The thought of returning to the sea is tempting—after all, it’s your home, the place where you belong. But there’s something about this place, about these people, that makes you hesitate. And then there’s Five. The way he looks at you, the way he seems to understand you without words… it makes you want to stay, at least for a little while longer.

“I’d like to stay,” you say softly, your eyes meeting his. “If that’s alright.”

Five gives a curt nod, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Then stay.”

In the days that follow, the Hargreeves help you adjust to your new life on land. They show you how to walk, how to dress, how to navigate the strange world of humans. It’s a learning curve, but you’re quick to adapt, and they’re patient with you, especially Allison and Five. Allison becomes a close friend, always there to guide you, while Five… well, Five is something else entirely.

You find yourself drawn to him in a way you’ve never felt before. There’s something about him that calls to you, something deep and unspoken. He’s different from the others, more guarded, more intense, but you sense a kindred spirit in him, someone who understands what it’s like to be out of place, to be lost in a world that isn’t quite yours.

He’s often busy, caught up in his own work and responsibilities, but when he’s around, you gravitate toward him, seeking out his company. At first, your interactions are brief, moments stolen in passing, but they gradually become longer, more frequent. You find yourself opening up to him, telling him about your life before, about the sea, about your people. And in return, he shares his own stories—of time travel, of loss, of battles fought and won.

The more you learn about him, the more your feelings for him grow. It’s not just admiration anymore; it’s something deeper, something you can’t quite name. You find yourself looking forward to seeing him, to hearing his voice, to feeling his presence beside you.

And he seems to feel the same way.

One evening, as the sun sets and the mansion is bathed in a warm, golden light, you find yourself alone with him in the garden. The others have retired for the night, leaving the two of you in a comfortable silence. You’re sitting side by side on a stone bench, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant sound of water from a nearby fountain.

“I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” Five says suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice is low, almost hesitant, as if he’s unsure of the words.

You turn to look at him, surprised. “Like me?”

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes meeting yours. “Someone who… who understands what it’s like to be out of place. To be searching for something you can’t quite define.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “I feel the same way,” you admit quietly. “I’ve been searching for so long… and I think I’ve found it now.”

He reaches out, his hand brushing against yours, and the contact sends a jolt of electricity through you. It’s a small gesture, but it feels like the most important thing in the world.

“You’ve found it,” he echoes softly, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken emotion. “And so have I.”

The space between you seems to shrink, and before you know it, you’re leaning toward each other, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. His lips find yours in a gentle, tentative kiss, and it’s like everything falls into place. The world around you fades, leaving only the two of you, connected in a way that feels as natural as breathing.

When you finally pull away, you see a rare, genuine smile on his face, one that makes your heart soar. You smile back, feeling lighter than you have in years, as if a weight you didn’t even know you were carrying has been lifted.

In that moment, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

The days turn into weeks, and then months, and your life with the Hargreeves becomes the new normal. You’re part of their family now, and they accept you as one of their own. You’re no longer a captive, no longer a prisoner of Reginald’s schemes. You’re free, and you’re loved, and that’s more than you ever could have hoped for.

Five becomes your anchor in this new world, your constant companion, your partner. The bond between you grows stronger with each passing day, and before long, it’s impossible to imagine your life without him. He’s everything you never knew you needed, and you’re everything he never thought he’d find.

It’s not long before your relationship deepens in ways you never expected. The love between you blossoms, and one day, not too long after, you find out that you’re expecting a child. The news comes as a shock, but it’s a joyous one, and Five is there with you every step of the way.

The family is ecstatic at the news, and they rally around you, supporting you in every way they can. It’s a time of great change, but it’s also one of the happiest times of your life. You’re no longer alone; you have a family, a partner, and soon, you’ll have a child of your own.

As you sit in the garden one evening, the same garden where you and Five shared your first kiss, you place a hand on your growing belly and smile. Five is beside you, his hand covering yours, and you feel a sense of peace that you’ve never known before.

“I never thought I’d have this,” you say softly, your voice full of wonder.

“Neither did I,” Five replies, his voice equally soft. “But I’m glad we do.”

You lean against him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, and you know that whatever the future holds, you’ll face it together.

And that, more than anything, is enough.

#five hargreeves x reader

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

The Only Tally Mark

Ship: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: The 'You Suck' tallies are getting pretty high, but there's a girl in Scoops Ahoy who knows Robin in wrong. If she can just get the courage to open her mouth, Steve's luck is about to change.

Word Count: 7,250 words

Warnings: Robin's a bit mean, she also has no filter, pining, Steve's failed flirting attempts, blatant staring/pining, implied confession, first kiss

Note: Set pre-s4 and the day Dustin comes back, before the Russian code is cracked.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

July had only just begun in Hawkins, and you could already tell it was going to be a hot one. Less than twenty-four hours in, temperatures had already hit record-breaking highs—at least, that was according to the weatherman on the television you were sat in front of, sweating and feeling relief from the heat only when the fan beside you swiveled back toward you.

“Every July is this hot,” your father said from the kitchen, where he was drinking his second glass of water in five minutes.

“Oh, sure, but never this early,” your mother retorted. “It’s only the first, and already we’re melting out of the house.”

Sensing an irritable argument birthed from the nearly unbearable heat, you left the living room and headed up the stairs to your bedroom. You picked up the phone you’d begged your parents to let you have years ago, dialing the number of your best friend of four years: Robin Buckley, the band dweeb to your theatre kid.

It was her mom who answered the phone, several dial tones later. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Buckley—is Robin home?”

“Oh, hi, sweetie! She’s at work right now, her shift ends at seven.”

You stopped yourself from swearing. “Oh, right, I forgot. Thank you!”

“No problem, dear,” Mrs. Buckley said before hanging up.

You leaned against the wall. How could you have forgotten? Robin had been telling you about her new job in the mall—and the sailor’s uniform she had to wear. You’d seen her get ready for work once and had burst into giggles the moment she put the hat on her head.

You glanced at the digital clock next to your bed, checking the time. There was still several hours before the mall closed. You might as well visit Robin and abuse your friendship to get some free ice cream at the same time, right?

So you grabbed your wallet and shoved it in your pocket and bounded down the stairs.

"Hey, I'm going out!" you shouted to your parents.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" your father asked, appearing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen.

"To the mall? Robin works there and I'm going to visit."

"Don't spend too much, dear!" your mother called.

"Sure, Mom!"

You hopped in your car and headed for the mall, following the thick cluster of traffic that always lined the streets leading to the mall, passing through the streets lined with empty, hollow shops.

~❊~

The mall was crowded, as busy as it had always been since the day it opened. You pushed your way through the crowds gathered around storefronts and display windows, trying to remember which floor Scoops Ahoy was on.

You took the escalator down to the first floor and scanned the shops surrounding you. When you spotted the sign for the ice cream store, you headed toward it, maneuvering past a group of pre-teens cackling about manipulating the store's workers into giving them free samples.

There was no one at the counter when you walked in. A majority of the tables were occupied by groups of teens. As you approached the register, you could hear faint bickering from behind the pebbled glass windows, Robin's distinct voice floating out to you.

"...do the job you're supposed to do, I've been scooping so much ice cream my hand's cramped," she was saying.

You stifled a giggle and tapped your hand lightly against the bell in front of you, wincing when it was a little louder than you had been expecting.

The swing door on the left opened with a bang, revealing the back of a boy who was gesturing at Robin, who was quite literally pushing him out the door. She disappeared before you could catch her attention, and the other attendant took up his place in front of the register.

"Ahoy, sailor! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I'll be your captain, I'm Steve Harrington."

You blinked at him. "Is that company policy like the hat and the outfit?"

He stared at you. "I'm sorry, what?"

You shrugged. "I'm a friend of Robin's, she complains about the, and I quote, stupid company rules that make everyone look stupid."

He stared at you. You stared at him. Awkward silence settled between the two of you.

The introduction hadn't been necessary. You had spent most of your high school experience listening to Robin complain about Steve Harrington and his stupid perfect hair and his stupid easy charm and his stupid actual stupidity. The Steve she'd painted matched up perfectly with the kid you'd seen around in the halls, dressed in his ironed polo shirts and pleated khakis or that stupid basketball uniform and letterman jacket—and Nancy Wheeler on his arm.

You and Robin had watched his life crash and burn with malicious glee—and all the while you had tried to ignore that this was the very same boy you'd crushed on in middle school, and had been so shocked to find out had changed so much when you got to the high school, a year after he did.

Steve cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the register, firmly away from you. "Um. What can I get you?"

"Uh..." Every ice cream flavor you had ever liked instantly disappeared from your head. It wasn't like the usual mind-blankness that came from being asked a question about your favorite anything. It was like your entire body had stopped, freezing in the pretty face of Steve Harrington, ridiculous as the uniform was. Especially with the hat, which Robin hadn't told you about.

The door swung open again. "Jesus, Steve, what's taking you so damn long?" Robin froze where she stood. A smile lit up her face. "What are you doing here?!"

You grinned. "Visiting!"

Robin hip-checked Steve out of the way. Steve glared at her while she grabbed the ice cream scoop from the pocket at his side.

"Jesus, do you have to be so brutal?" he snapped.

Clearly fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Robin turned back to Steve. "I'm sorry, would you please get out of the way so I can serve my best friend? Thanks," she said, her customer service smile plastered to her face.

Muttering under his breath, Steve pushed away from the counter, leaning on the sill of the window behind him. He crossed his arms, still staring resolutely at the floor.

Robin grinned at you. "I wasn't expecting you to—"

"Be here?" you finished. "I called your house before I realized you were working, so I thought I might as well come visit."

"Glad you did," she said. "You would not believe how much of a headache it is working with dingus over there."

You glanced over her shoulder at Steve, his pink lips forming a pissy pout. Oh, yeah. Still pretty, still a bitch.

"You didn't tell me you worked with him," you said under your breath.

Robin shrugged, shooting you a knowing smile. "Yeah, well, I knew you'd show up and find out for yourself eventually." Her eyes slid to the corners, as if she could see Steve sulking behind her. "We'll talk about him later. What ice cream do you want? On us."

You giggled. "How did I know you'd say that?"

She snorted. "Oh, so you're abusing our friendship for free ice cream?"

"Maybe," you said. "Just this once."

Robin rolled her eyes and grabbed an ice cream cone. "Here—I'll grab your favorite."

And, without you needing to remind her, she lowered the scoop into the tub of ice cream that you got every time the two of you had gotten ice cream after going to see a movie, back before the mall. You wondered how you could have forgotten, until you looked over Robin's shoulder again and found Steve looking up, lips parted and eyes fixed on you. The minute you caught his gaze, he blushed and looked away.

You took advantage of his embarrassment, admiring the pink in his cheeks and how he awkwardly licked his lips. He toyed with the watch on his wrist, crossed and uncrossed his legs. Was he nervous? An even better question—had you ever seen Steve Harrington nervous before?

While you studied Steve, Robin made a second cone of ice cream, a different flavor than yours.

Robin looked behind her. "Hey—man the counter, will you? I'm going on break."

Steve spluttered. "You just came back from break!"

"No, we just finished our lunch break. I still have my federally-required thirty minutes to take. So I'm gonna take 'em." She shoved the scoop at Steve's chest and stepped out from behind the counter.

The pair of you took an unoccupied table near the counter, in case she was needed.

"Should you be leaving him to do it by himself?" you asked, glancing back at Steve one last time.

"What, are you worried about him? He'll be fine," Robin said. She shrugged with a sigh. "He's...he's not as bad as we thought he was in high school. He's less of a douche now, at least."

"Just a dingus?" you asked with a smile.

She nodded. "He's still as stupid as we always thought."

You turned your attention away from Steve at toward your ice cream. "Why didn't you tell me he worked with you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Let's not have that conversation while he's here, okay? For your dignity's sake. I know he's far away, but he's got impressive hearing." She shrugged. "Blame it on four years of listening for gossip, I guess."

Your gaze shifted back to Steve as he raked a hand through his hair, stretching enough for his shirt to lift. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you crossed your legs. Now that he wasn't surrounded by assholes who mocked you and Robin and your friends for their own personal entertainment, it was easier to appreciate how he'd grown into himself since middle school. Taking care of himself had made him a whole new level of handsome.

Robin giggled. "Yeah—that's why we're not gonna talk about this while he's around. You still have a thing for him, don't you?"

Steve relaxed against the countertop, fixing his hair and putting the hat back on with a scowl. You cleared your throat.

"I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"Me? Forget about you having the most embarrassing crush on him for years? Only to get to high school and find out he'd become a dick? Never."

You groaned. "Oh, stop rubbing it in!"

A gaggle of girls walked into the store, four of them giggling and talking and rolling their eyes. Immediately, Steve stood up a little straighter and fiddled with his uniform.

Robin snorted. "Oh, watch this. He's been failing catastrophically with every girl that walks in. I keep count."

"You keep count?"

She nodded gleeful, pointing with her chin in the direction of the counter.

"Ahoy, ladies!" Steve said, leaning on the counter. His attempt to be attractive failed dismally, however, when his hand slipped off the side and he lost both his balance and his composure for a moment.

One of the girls giggled with her friend. Steve's cheeks darkened.

"I'm Steve Harrington, I'll be your captain on this ocean of flavor. What can I get you lovely ladies today?"

You glanced at Robin. "I don't see what he's doing wrong."

"That's because this is scripted," Robin whispered back.

The first girl stepped forward. "One scoop of chocolate and one of vanilla, please."

Steve tried a debonaire smile. "Oooh, classic, I like it. I'm all for vanilla myself, you know, all the time."

You winced. "Was...was that supposed to be a double entendre?"

"Yep," Robin said, popping the p with a smirk.

"I see what you mean now," you said. The girl was making a face that said she caught Steve's drift and found it rude. Steve cleared his throat and moved on, scooping ice cream into a cone and handing it to her with a mortified whisper of "here you go." His gaze flicked over to you and Robin, at which point his mortification seemed to grow.

You watched the exchange grow steadily worse. Steve stumbled over his words and tripped over his feet and dropped an empty cone twice. Customers who had already gotten ice cream became onlookers who left, one by one, as the secondhand embarrassment grew.

"God, he's hopeless," you whispered. "Whatever happened to the Steve in high school?"

"You mean the one with a new girl on his arm every week? I'd say that stopping can be blamed on one Nancy Wheeler," Robin said.

You rolled your eyes. "While they were dating, obviously. But now? One relationship shouldn't make him incapable of flirting with a girl."

Robin watched the girls leave, snickering behind their hands. A moment later, Steve groaned, wiping a hand over his face. "You know what I think his problem is?"

"What?"

"He's trying to flirt all of them into submission, not just one girl he likes out of the group."

You nodded slowly. "Sounds about right. I mean...if he flirted with me one minute and then you the next, I don't think I'd want to jump his bones, exactly."

Robin rolled her eyes. "What are you talking about? You've always wanted to jump his bones."

"That was middle school, and that was before any of us gave a shit about sex."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Robin teased. "I saw how you looked at him during gym class."

You shrugged, trying to hide your face behind your hair. Robin knew your expressions better than anyone; your embarrassment was going to be obvious the minute she caught sight of you. "It's gym class! Guys don't wear shirts ninety percent of the time, they practically invite girls to stare." Your gaze slid back to Steve, who was once again staring at the floor. His cheeks were still red, and that pretty mouth of his had once again formed a pout. "Jesus, I don't think I've ever seen him so...despondent."

"He's like that at least five times a shift," Robin said. She played with a small red plastic spoon she had pulled from her pocket. "You know... You could come work here with us. Then you'd get to see Steve every day."

"Robin, you're constantly complaining about how much you hate working your, and I quote, pitiful minimum wage job."

"Yeah, but you like Steve, and eye candy makes the day go by faster."

You swatted her arm discreetly. "Don't objectify him!"

She rolled her eyes. "Hey, Steve!"

Steve looked up so quickly you swore you heard his neck crack, even with some distance between your table and the counter. "What?"

"Come convince her to work with us!"

You glared at her. "Robin, I already have a summer job!" you protested, trying to stop your heart from racing as Steve approached the two of you. You looked anywhere but him, knowing a soft smile and a well-timed flutter of his eyelashes was all it would take for Steve to convince you to do anything he asked.

Steve pulled a chair from the other table for two next to you, spinning it unnecessarily in his hand and dragging it to the edge of your table. He straddled it, leaning his arms against the backrest. Your heart climbed into your throat.

Steve's eyes met yours and every thought melted from your brain. Brown had never been such a pretty color. Although his eyes weren't just brown, they were hazel, mottled with soft greens and blues and greys. You'd never seen such beautiful eyes before, so expressive and kind and interested and attentive and—

"Tell her why she should come work with us," Robin said, breaking your focus on Steve's eyes.

You rolled your eyes. "Robin, I already have a job," you repeated. "A job I like that pays well that I can work at year-round."

Steve snorted, shaking his head absentmindedly. "Then don't come here, that's for sure. The pay is shit, the job is just as bad, and nobody likes ice cream in the winter."

Robin glared at him. "What part of convincing her do you not understand?"

Steve shrugged, ignoring her. "But, then again, you'd get to work with Robin and you might alleviate my boredom from dealing with her all the time." He jerked his head toward Robin. "You wouldn't believe how mean to me she is."

You stifled a giggle as Robin huffed. An easy grin reminiscent of the king he once as slid across Steve's face. You felt slightly giddy, knowing you had been the one to put it there.

More people walked into the store and Robin shot to her feet. "Come on, dingus. We have a job to do." She dragged him to his feet, ignoring his hiss of complaint. He shot you an apologetic shrug as she pulled him behind the register again.

While the two of them got back to work, you sat back in your booth table and finished your ice cream. Once you were done, you discreetly snuck out of the store, leaving a note for Robin at the counter promising to call her after her shift.

As you wrote the note and taped it to the register, you failed to notice Steve pause where he was scooping ice cream to watch you, or that his gaze stayed on you until you left the store and Robin had to snap him out of his reverie.

~❊~

Though it seemed utterly impossible, the next day was even hotter than the last. You lasted all of two hours at the community pool before you got tired of the screaming children and moms flirting with Billy Hargrove and you went home.

You changed out of your bathing suit, dressing more consciously than you had since the eighth grade semi-formal. You selected your jewelry carefully before hopping in your car and heading to the mall for a second time that week.

Scoops Ahoy was significantly less busy when you walked in. Robin looked half-asleep where she stood at the counter, but she brightened when you walked in.

"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" she asked, leaning on the counter with a grin.

You shrugged. "It's hot, ice cream is a solution."

She studied you for a moment. "The pool didn't solve that?"

You scoffed. "Hell no. It's full of tiny children and middle-aged moms and girls who only go so they can take up space and stare at Billy."

"And there's no Steve there, is there?" Robin teased.

You rolled your eyes. "No," you admitted. "Or you."

Robin scooped your ice cream and passed it to you over the countertop. "He'll be back soon, his break ends in a minute. He went to go grab us food."

"He what?"

Robin shrugged. "Yeah, he does that a lot. I hate to say it, but he's actually a nice guy. I think we might have been wrong about him."

You grinned. "So I was right back in middle school! I told you."

Robin rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you did." She cleared her throat. "Behind you."

You heard Steve's footsteps approaching a split second before he said, "Hey, you're back! Applying?"

Turning to face him, you snorted. "Absolutely not. I'm here for ice cream and ice cream alone."

Steve frowned. "What are we, chopped liver?" he asked, gesturing between himself and Robin.

"I'm surprised you know that phrase," Robin said.

Steve made a face. "I do know some things, Robin." He turned back to you. "I told you she's mean to me."

You laughed. "She's mean to everyone sometimes, it's nothing personal."

"Yes it is, dingus," Robin said, and you remembered she had plenty of reasons aside from Steve's years mocking her and her friends to be angry with him.

You just shrugged at him when Steve looked at you for guidance. He copied your shrug and passed Robin a plastic bag that smelled heavenly.

"If I'd known you were coming to visit, I would have gotten you something," Steve said apologetically.

"Oh, it's fine," you promised. "I've got ice cream." He smiled at you, his laughter shining through. "Honestly, I'm surprised you two don't exist off of ice cream."

"We used to," Robin said.

Steve nodded. "It got pretty tiring after a week. It's like when they told us in health class that energy from sugar doesn't last very long. Or something like that."

Robin squinted at him. "You can't remember enough of high school to get to college, but you can remember health class?"

"I remembered enough to graduate," Steve mumbled, cheeks turning pink once again. You were starting to get used to Steve's embarrassment. It was as cute as he always was.

"Stay and eat with us," Robin said, turning back to you. "I'll split my fries with you. You did remember the fries, didn't you, dingus?"

"Of course I remembered the fries," Steve snorted. He dropped the Closed for lunch! sign on the counter and held the swinging door open for you. You thanked him as you walked by, aware of his eyes following you.

You sat in the seat Robin pulled out for you and finished your ice cream before stealing some of the previously offered fries.

"I think we're closing early, Robin," Steve said, glancing out the cracked window. "We've had, what, three people all day?"

"Four if you count the Radio Shack employee across the way," Robin said. "But I don't, because they get it for free."

You frowned. "Do I not count as a customer because you give me ice cream for free?"

Steve shook his head a bit too quickly. "No, you count, Robin just doesn't like the Radio Shack employees."

"Because they're rude," she complained. "They complain about everything and change their minds three times—but always after you've already started scooping, and even when you're done, they don't like it!"

"Sounds like a regular day in customer service," you said, feigning cheerfulness.

"Yeah, a shitty day," Robin said.

"Where do you work?" Steve asked. "I don't think I've ever asked."

"The record store down on Main," you said.

"You know, the one I said I had been planning on working at," Robin said. "But Scoops hired faster."

"Maybe we should switch jobs," Steve muttered.

Robin snorted. "Yeah, like that'll go over well."

"The store won't hire more people, anyway," you cut in. "It got rid of most of the staff, especially the new people, to cut costs because of the mall."

"Is there a record store in here?" Steve asked.

"No, but there is a Sam Goody and a Camelot Music in the mall. We used to have a partnership with the Sam Goody on Main, but then it closed due to the mall, and we started losing business to the one in the mall." You sighed. "I hear about it all the time. It's all the owner ever talks about these days."

Steve munched on a fry, staring at you as you spoke. His eyes were stuck firmly on you. You tried not to squirm under his intense gaze.

Robin leaned back in her chair. "One of these days, I'm gonna visit you at work instead."

You rolled your eyes. "If you ever have a day off," you said.

"Kinda hard to have a day off when we're the only two working here," Steve said.

You nodded. "The constant problem of being short staffed."

"That would be solved if you just came and worked here," Robin muttered into her wrap. You rolled your eyes again, stealing another one of her fries.

"No, Robin."

Robin harrumphed and took a bite of her sandwich more viciously than twas strictly required.

Steve faked a pout. "You just really don't like us, do you?"

"She doesn't," Robin agreed, smirking. You knew that smirk; she was going to do her best to guilt trip you—using Steve, which was perhaps the only way to guilt you into doing what she wanted.

You rolled your eyes. "It's got nothing to do with you, I promise."

"Ouch," they said in unison.

You frowned. "What are you, the same person?"

They both shrugged.

"Alright, that's just weird," you sighed. You glanced down at your watch. "How long does your lunch break last?"

"Thirty minutes. Why?" Steve asked.

You shrugged. "Wouldn't want you to get fired because I'm here distracting you."

Steve propped his head up on his hand. Stray curls of hair fell into his face. Your heart twisted in your chest. He was beautiful. How could he be so beautiful?

Robin watched as you and Steve stared at each other. You were aware of her gaze bouncing back and forth between the two of you, observing the way you were melting under his gaze, your lips parting the longer he looked at you, the barriers you'd put up slowly crumbling. Steve was no better, staring at you with open, asking eyes. He moistened his lower lip with his tongue and it took everything in you not to whimper.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the look on Robin's face—the look of disgust that crossed her face every time she was disgusted by public affection from straight couples. Your heart did flips at the sight of her expression.

"Would you guys stop that?" she groaned, getting up from her seat.

"Doing what?" Steve asked, still looking at you. You tore your eyes away from him and back to the half-empty container of fries.

"Making eyes at each other," she said. Steve spluttered, instantly losing the lovey look in his eyes.

"Making eyes— Robin, what are you talking about?"

You cleared your throat. "Hey, um, what's the board for?" You hoped your question would steer the conversation away from the feeling bubbling in your chest at the sight of Steve.

Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"I told you I was keeping score of Steve's failing dating life. This is my scoreboard."

You nearly choked. "You keep track of it on a whiteboard at work?!" You looked at the neatly drawn board, the 'You Rule' and 'You Suck' columns divided by a line.

"Actually, I have to put the one from yesterday on here."

Steve groaned again, cheeks burning very red. He looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and stay there.

You watched her add a line. "Robin..."

"She's right, I suck," Steve sighed. "My luck's been pretty shit recently."

"You don't suck, she's just being mean," you said. You sent her a look, shaking your head slightly. She just shrugged.

"You don't have to be nice about it," he said. "I know how bad I am at this. I haven't gotten laid in months."

"Okay, too much information, Steve," you said with a little laugh.

"Oh, so this suddenly isn't a safe place to talk about all our life troubles?" he teased.

You laughed fully. He smiled, and the room seemed to light up with the glow emanating from him.

"Get a room," Robin groaned.

Steve turned around. "I'm not flirting, Robin!"

"Yeah, right," Robin smirked. "It's just working this time."

You coughed. "I, um, I have to go."

They both turned back to you, as if they'd forgotten that you were even there.

"Shit, hang on," Steve started, but Robin cut him off.

"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that—" Robin said, realizing she'd practically told Steve you liked him.

"Yeah, right, I know, I just have, uh..." You fumbled for an excuse for a minute. "I have to go drive a friend home! I'll call you later, Robs!" You rushed out the swinging door just as the bell at the counter rang.

Steve pushed his hands through his hair. "Shit."

"Oh, no," Robin whispered. "Steve, ignore that, ignore all of that, I screwed up, I shouldn't have said anything, she's going to be so pissed. It's just that she's liked you since middle school and it's gotten worse now that you're not a douchebag—" Robin clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I won't tell her you said that," Steve said quietly. "Oh, Jesus, Robin..."

"I'm sorry—"

"Stop apologizing to me," Steve said. "If you hadn't said anything, I never would have realized."

Robin made a face. "See, that's why you suck, not because you're bad at flirting with girls. You've just been flirting with the wrong ones, because you're oblivious of the ones that actually like you."

Steve was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. Thanks for pointing that out." He peered out the window, watching you leave the mall, wiping at your eyes and pushing your hair out of your eyes.

Simultaneously, Steve and Robin whispered, "Shit."

At the counter, Erica Sinclair tapped the bell again. "Hello? I want some samples!"

They shouted, "Shut up!"

Steve slammed the glass doors shut.

~❊~

Steve unlocked his front door, stepped inside his house, and put his back to the closed door. He slid down the door with a heavy sigh.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath. All he had been able to see since you left Scoops was your stricken face, horrified and embarrassed that Robin had spilled your biggest secret. (Which Robin had told him after, in bits and pieces, while they closed up the store.)

Steve couldn't believe it. How had he never noticed? Granted, he hadn't been the most observant for, well, the majority of his life. And his middle school years had been fairly dull, unmemorable. But wouldn't have noticed if you—you, out of everyone in Hawkins Middle—had been crushing on him?

To his utter shame, the most Steve remembered of you in middle school was how you had been a good friend to him, long before any of his high school friends knew who he was, and that he'd ditched you once he got to high school. You'd helped him study a few times, too. He wasn't sure what year it was, but he knew you'd helped him pass both English and History in the same year.

He'd shared a handful of classes with you, too, when classes had been so small they'd mixed grades. Sixth grade science, when the two of you had worked on a minor chemical project together. In seventh grade, you'd had two classes together. Gym, which had been downright brutal so early in the morning, especially when the teachers split up the teams as boys against girls. He remembered you had gotten nailed in the head with a basketball once, and that he'd been asked by your teacher to take you to the nurse. Then there had been math class, where he'd sat behind you, asking you questions and begging you to explain the concepts he didn't understand—even though you didn't understand it much more than he did. Eighth grade history, where Steve had done a presentation on his grandfather's experience in the World War, and you had been the only to actually raise your hand to ask a question.

Steve got up from the door and went up to his bathroom, stripping out of his uniform to take a shower. While the water soaked his hair and skin, warming him up, Steve's mind turned back to you—not that it had ever really left you.

You had been his first crush. Well, his first real crush. You'd been pretty, even when you were young and curious and a year younger than he was. Most of his friends had said that the younger girls were cute, but embarrassing to like. So Steve hid that he liked you. It wasn't until Nancy in high school, when it became cool, that he dated anyone younger than himself.

He wished he'd said something to you then. Would it have saved him a world of hurt? Or would it just have been an even worse broken heart waiting for him?

Steve recalled the way you had looked at him earlier, your eyes practically sparkling and your lips stretching into a gorgeous, content smile. It had stopped his heart to know that he was the reason you looked so happy, that he had brought that smile to your lips and that he had made those smile lines around your eyes appear and that he had been the reason your pupils were blown wide.

Steve shut off the shower and pulled on a new pair of boxers, flopping onto his bed with a content sigh, which matched the happy smile on his face.

You liked him.

Feeling like a teenage girl, Steve rolled until he could hide an excited squeal in his pillow.

You liked him again.

Steve was certain that's what made him so giddy. You'd liked him before he'd become King Steve, before the popularity made him interesting—and you liked him again, now that he'd changed and learned and grown up. Now that he'd learned to be himself without a care in the world for anyone else's opinion.

It was like redemption, but it felt so much better than that.

A sudden feeling overwhelmed Steve.

The next time he saw you, he needed to tell you how he felt about you. He needed to make it clear that Robin's slip-up had not ruined the slow banter, the friendship the two of you had been dancing around.

Resolved, his thoughts stopped spinning. He turned off the lamp on his nightstand and shut his eyes.

Please come back tomorrow, he thought, before falling into a gentle sleep, full of dreams of romanticized meetings, confessions, and kisses.

~❊~

You avoided Scoops for several days, choosing to tough out the warm weather in the overcrowded community pool until your mortification subsided. Robin had called repeatedly to assure you Steve wasn't weirded out or annoyed or embarrassed by your crush on him. In fact, she almost made it sound as if he was pleased by it.

But you still couldn't make yourself go to Scoops Ahoy. Even the mental image of walking in and seeing Steve's face twist with some kind of disgust made your stomach twist.

But a girl could only take so much of Billy Hargrove. So, after nearly a week, you drove to the mall instead of the pool. It still took you nearly ten minutes to force yourself out of your car.

You had thought seeing Steve and Robin in their sailor uniforms had been strange, but there was a far stranger sight directly ahead of you: Robin at the counter, staring in absolute confusion, and Steve jumping with joy at the sight of the small child in the front of the store.

"Henderson!" Steve's smile was huge. The sight made you smile, albeit a bit more confused. "Henderson! He's back, he's back!"

"I'm back! You got the job!"

"I got the job!"

And then, just when you thought this strange scene could not get any weirder, Steve mimed playing a trumpet and both he and the child did a strange miming handshake, giggling all the while.

Robin leaned forward. "How many children are you friends with?"

Steve's overjoyed smile slipped from his face. He gestured to Robin with a strained look on his face, as if he were signaling See what I have to deal with?

"You mean there's more children?" you asked, walking up to them with a shy smile, almost embarrassed to make your return. Your stomach dipped as Steve turned to you, but his smile was back.

"Hey, you're back!" Steve said. "I thought we'd never see you again!"

You shrugged. "Yeah, well, I got tired of Billy flirting with me."

"Max's brother?" the child asked.

You stared at him. "I don't know who that is. Or who you are, actually."

"Oh, I'm—"

"This is Dustin," Steve interrupted. "Dustin Henderson. He's, uh, he's one of my friends." He went behind the counter and started making an ice cream sundae.

You gave Dustin your name and offered him your hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"How do you know Steve?" Dustin asked.

At the same time, both you and Steve pointed to Robin. She waggled her fingers at him.

"I'm going on break," Steve said, handing the sundae to Dustin. "Your turn to man the counter. Come on, Dustin, my treat!"

The two of them slipped into a booth. You leaned against the countertop with a heavy sigh.

"There's like...five or six of them," Robin said. "Kids, I mean. That he's friends with."

"Jesus," you muttered. "How old are these kids?"

"Like...thirteen, maybe?"

"Oh, boy."

Robin giggled. "Looks like you gotta share your man with children now."

You choked. "He's— He's not my man, Robin!" you hissed, your entire body burning. You glanced at Steve, but he was too engrossed in whatever story Dustin was telling him.

"But that's why you're here, isn't it?" Robin asked. "You came back because you're ready to talk to him again, knowing that you like him and he likes you."

You glanced over at Steve. While you observed him, Robin slipped out from behind the counter, quietly humming to herself as she worked.

"Yeah, I mean, sure," he was saying to Dustin. "It's not really a good idea for me though, gotta keep in shape for the ladies." Was it just your imagination, or did his eye stray over toward you?

"Yeah, and how's that working out for you?" Robin teased.

"Ignore her," Steve said quickly.

"She seems cool," Dustin said.

"She's not," Steve said, even quicker. "But, uh, the girl you just met? She's cool. She's really cool." A smile tugged at your lips. You pushed it away as you looked down at the floor, completely missing Steve's lovestruck glance toward you.

Dustin, however, missed nothing, and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really, Steve?"

Steve cleared his throat. "Anyway. So, uh, where are the other knuckleheads?"

"They ditched me yesterday," Dustin said.

"No," Steve said, his face falling. Your heart squeezed at the sight of his empathy. The Steve from high school never would have cared about a kid whose friends had abandoned him, but this Steve did.

"My first day back! Can you believe that shit?"

"Whoa, seriously?!" Steve demanded, incredulous. Your heart warmed once again.

You turned back to Robin. "In answer to your earlier question," you said under your breath, "yes, that is exactly what I'm here to do."

She giggled. "I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" She paused. "Was Billy Hargrove really flirting with you?"

You nodded. "I guess he doesn't really care about high school social status, as long as he gets laid." You shuddered. "I've never felt more objectified in my life, and I pranced around on stage in fishnets and a bodysuit in front of the entire school last year during Chicago!"

"I'm still convinced that was our best show," Robin said.

"I'd like to know how we got the rights to it," you snorted.

"I'd like to know how we convinced Principal Higgins to let us perform it."

You snorted. "Yeah. Has anybody heard anything about next year's shows?"

"Nothing yet," Robin said.

You harrumphed, your gaze sliding back to Steve and Dustin and found them talking in hushed tones. Steve's face was fixed into an expression of embarrassed confusion.

"Oh, got customers, hang on," Robin said, and served them while you moved off to the side, watching Dustin speak behind his hand. Steve just blinked at him and told him to speak up.

"I intercepted a secret Russian communication!" Dustin said, far too loudly.

The entire store went quiet. You and Robin exchanged a glance.

"Jesus, shhhh!" Steve hissed. "Yeah, okay, that's what I thought you said."

Business as normal resumed and Robin's customers headed for their own table.

You cleared your throat. "Well, I guess I should head out—"

"No, no, no, wait! What about Steve?"

"He's busy, Robs," you said, gesturing to him. Your stomach did flips at the cute, teasing little expression on his pretty face as you caught him saying American heroes. You weren't sure you wanted to know what mischief they were getting into. "I'll just...come back tomorrow."

Robin sighed. "Fine. As long as you let me play matchmaker!"

You rolled your eyes. "You've been doing that for the past, what, four years?"

"Yeah, but this time I might actually be successful!"

You shook your head with a smile. "Catch you later, Robin. Bye, Steve!" you added as you walked past.

Steve's head snapped up. He scrambled up from his seat at the booth. "Hey, wait, wait, where are you going?" He caught your arm and your eyes darted to his fingers on you. Every possible excuse was wiped from your head. "I thought you were gonna stay and...hang out for a little while."

You smiled apologetically. "Yeah, I was going to, but your friend just came back, so I figured I'd just come back another time. So you don't have to...divide your already divided attention, y'know?" You gestured back to the counter.

Though there was understanding in Steve's eyes, he still looked disappointed. "Oh...um... Would you—" He cleared his throat, his cheeks gaining a deep pink shade. "Would you maybe wanna hang out together—" He stopped again. "Would you wanna go on a date? With me? Sometime?"

You couldn't stop the smile that stretched across your face. "When?"

"Oh, you know, whenever you want? If you want to, I mean."

You stopped his rambling with a finger against his lips. His eyes widened. "I want to, Steve. I really, really want to. I always have."

He beamed. "Really?"

"Really," you promised. You patted his chest. "Even in this stupid little uniform."

He laughed. "What do you say to...two days from now? Meet me here at the end of my shift so Robin can make fun of us like always—" You laughed with him. "—and then we can go see a movie?" His thumb caressed the skin of your arm. That single touch alone sent butterflies through your stomach, not to mention the beautiful, sappy look in his eyes.

"I'd like that," you said. "I'd like that a lot."

"And, um, if you'd like, there's a little dinner about ten minutes from here with awesome milkshakes we could go to after."

You beamed. "Oh, Steve."

"Yeah?"

"You're absolutely perfect," you said to him, cupping his cheek and smoothing your fingers over his skin. He hummed happily. "Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I... Do you... Can we kiss? I know it's soon, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time."

Steve beamed. He leaned in, cupping the back of your head and pulling you into him. His lips touched yours, and you swore your body crackled with electricity. A feeling similar to pins and needles, but far more pleasant, spread throughout you.

He made to pull away. You brought both your hands to his cheeks and held him to you, kissing him for all you were worth.

In the booth, Dustin's mouth dropped open. A grin spread across his face.

At the counter, Robin, who couldn't see the kiss but saw your hands slide into Steve's hair, pulled out her whiteboard and added a singular tally into the 'You Rule' column.

She glanced back at you and Steve. Steve had broken the kiss to tug you close to him, hugging you to his chest. You twisted your hand into his hair, smiling over his shoulder, your eyes closed against the rest of the world.

Robin grinned; she guessed the 'You Suck' tallies didn't matter anymore. Steve had found the one his charm worked on.

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2 coming soon!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

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violetteshoneybee · 3 months

Text

WIP. (remus lupin x reader)

remus lupin x reader

In which the marauders and their girls are on summer holiday in South of France and Remus realises he wants you.

Warnings: fluff (maybe smut, we’ll see); not proofread!!

Remus had no idea when he agreed to go to the Potter’s summer house in south of France that the summer holidays would go like this. He thought it would be just the four of them boys in a little house. But he did underestimate the Potters wealth a bit.

The taxi stopped in front of the iron gates of a three-story house. The path to the front door was lined by pine trees. Remus could hear some repetitive melody coming from the trees. He attributed that to some kind of grasshopper. The scorching sun, although filtered by the branches, was making the boy’s head ache and sweat. And the noise from what he had gathered to be a cigale was worsening it. Still, he was pleased to discover the house with its walls made of put-together stone, its shutters needing fresh paint, and the small fountain beside the floral arrangement that would go all around the building. James had pushed its faucet to bathe his head in cold water, but Remus was focused on something else now. He had seen someone in the window. Someone he didn’t know would be here.

The door opened in a hurry, and all he could think was, when did he miss that information?

“We were starting to worry, what took you so long?”

“James had forgotten his pacifier, that’s what took us so long. You know how he is when he doesn’t have it.” Sirius climbed the stairs, his sunglasses in his hair and his bag on the shoulder. “Insufferable!” He muttered loud enough for the four girls to hear.

Remus combed his fingers through his hair and took a long breath before opening his mouth

“Well! Hello-”

“What are you doing here? I thought it was just us four!” Peter asked joining Sirius and the others inside.

You stayed in the corner of the door looking at the two boys left.

“Had a nice trip?”

Remus nodded. You looked ethereal in your blue and white sundress, your hair braided together.

“And you? You didn’t wait too long? Lils is not mad right?”

“Don’t start, Prongs.” Remus lifted his luggage. “I like the dress”

“You’ll get burned if you don’t put sunscreen on, Potter.”

“It’s alright, Evans. He’s a big guy.”

“I have some sunscreen if you'd like.”

James shook his head no, not glancing at them, his arm covering his eyes to cover himself. He had decided he was done with Lily Evans. Too much running around, not enough results, he said. And, too busy becoming a better guy, he was not seeing how Lily’s attention toward him had changed. That’s what everyone understood, though.

Remus’s gaze turned from his three friends to the girl getting in the water. You chuckled a bit listening to Lily’s attempt at catching James attention.

“Not too cold?”

You immersed yourself fully in the pool and let yourself float around.

“It’s parfait!”

Remus smiled at your French pronunciation. You and Sirius had been going around throwing random French words in conversation since the first day of the holidays.

“Is it? Should I join you?” You shook your head.

“Don’t ruin it. It feels good like this.” You hummed plunging your head underneath the surface.

Remus looked at how your body moved expertly under the water. The way your hair floated above your shoulders and how sunshine seemed to rain on your back as you swam. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Away from your legs moving so delicately under the water like a dance he did not know of.

He watched you like this the whole time you were enjoying the nice and cool pool in the back garden of the house. He was sitting on a lounging chair in the shadow of a pine tree. He had kept his shirt on despite the warm weather, too embarrassed to show his scarred body. Remus’s face was already reddened by the sun, and some freckles had started to appear on his nose and cheeks. You had found them quite adorable on him. It betrayed his soft personality that you loved so much.

You had been in love with Remus for two years now. Stealing glances at him when you could, but keeping your feelings for yourself. You were worried you might ruin your bond and your friend group dynamic. As if getting serious with Remus would stop you from enjoying time with the others. Particularly if Remus were to reject you. You couldn’t even think of how your friendship would go after that without being embarrassed to death. Still, from time to time, when you were brave enough, you would attempt to flirt with Remus. Just to see if you had a chance, or if he really was too good for you. You were wondering at that moment, fully aware of the attention on your body, if you could say something to him. Your face was red just at the thought of it.

“My eyes are higher, Rem.” You managed to say without stuttering too much. You had swum to him and were now looking up at him through your lashes.

Remus was speechless. You looked so innocent, so beautiful at that moment. He wanted to take a picture of you, just to keep you in his wallet, and maybe, just maybe, sometimes say to strangers, “That’s my girlfriend, isn’t she beautiful?” He dreamed of that, of saying you were his.

Dividers credit to @cafekitsune

Tag list : @innerloverpainter

#on remus lupin ♡#violette talks♡#violette writes♡#wip #again and forever remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #marauders fluff #marauders x reader #i want a boyfriend #don’t support jk rowling #jk rowling is a transphobe #jk rowling is trash #dividers by cafekitsune

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praisethegabs · 1 year

Text

METANOIA

ID!Professor!Leon Kennedy x Student!F!Reader

euphoria masterlist

summary: your relationship with your professor remains a secret for everyone. despite the fact that you both know this is wrong, you both can't stay away from each other, making this way too difficult than it should be. things don't end too well when an unexpected person from his past appears suddenly at the same time your ex decides to win you back, jeopardizing your secret.

warnings: age gap, reader is in college and in mid 20s while Leon is in his 30s. NSFW content, delicate to rough sex, p in v, oral receiving (both), praise kink, degradation kink (eventually), use of pet names (bunny), vaginal fingering, masturbation, cum swallowing, dom!leon and sub!reader. leon is insecure af. oc named chloe as the reader's best friend.

word count: 7271k

a/n: part two of the euphoria series. this part is much longer than the first one bc let's be honest, we need some drama to balance things.

tags: @worriedweirdo

METANOIA (psychology) is the process of experiencing a psychotic "breakdown" and subsequent, positive psychological re-building or "healing"

The early morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow across the sparsely decorated room despite the noise caused by the rain. Leon sat at his desk, gazing out at the campus that spread before him like a promise of new beginnings. He took a deep breath, the crisp air filling his lungs, as if to cleanse the lingering doubts that clung to him.

The recent break-up had been a harsh jolt, a sudden rending of a once inseparable bond. The wounds were still fresh, and Leon sought solace in the unfamiliar halls of Woodsboro University. It was a chance for reinvention, a slate wiped clean.

As he leafed through the pages of his notebook, his pen poised in mid-air, Leon couldn't help but revisit the night that had left him wrestling with his own morality. A chance encounter with you, a whirlwind of emotions, and a single night that blurred lines he had once thought clear.

He had always prided himself on his sense of right and wrong, on being a man of integrity. But now, as he sat in the quiet of his new office inside his new apartment, those lines seemed to blur, to twist and contort into something unfamiliar. He wondered if this was a sign of weakness, a fracture in the armor he had worn for so long.

With a heavy sigh, Leon closed the notebook, setting aside his doubts for the moment. He knew he couldn't change the past, but he could shape the future. He would navigate this new chapter with care, mindful of the choices he made, and the impact they would have.

As the clock ticked on, Leon's resolve strengthened. He had to remind himself to find his way in this new environment, redefining not only his academic pursuits but also the man he aspired to be. The weight of his decisions, both recent and past, served as a reminder that growth often came from moments of discomfort.

But no matter how hard he tried to convince himself it was wrong and his morals were in conflict, the more he wanted to replay that night. Leon thought he could never feel that way again, he even believed he was destined to be alone, but when he saw you dancing in that crowded room, looking so beautiful and desirable, he felt something new floating inside his stomach.

It was pure physical attraction, but lord have mercy, his body reminded him everyday about this carnal pleasure, which he only felt with you and despite the fact he wanted you desperately, he still found himself in constant conflict.

A knock on his door was enough to catch his attention.

And there you were; your hair dropping water from the rain outside. You already knew the way to his place, and despite the fact that your relationship was pure sexual, you couldn't help but feel something for him as well.

"Why did you take so long? I was starting to get worried, " he said as you entered his place, watching outside carefully to make sure no one saw you.

"I'm sorry, but it's raining outside, and I had to stop before coming here," you said to him, removing your jumper. "I bought this. For you"

It was a bottle of wine. He seemed surprised by your kind gesture, but the feeling of guilty was practically eating him alive inside and out. Every time he tried to go back, to turn away from you, he ended up fucking you hard. It felt like this was the only way to release his conscience from guilt, the only way he could wash his insecurities and doubts; you ended up being his drug, his addiction. And he hated himself for using you like that.

"I think we should talk" he says, sighing heavily. He needed to be strong. He needed to do what was right.

"What's wrong?" You asked, the smile on your lips fading away when you notice isn't good news.

"I don't know. I can't keep reminding myself this is wrong, that we shouldn't be doing this... I came here because I wanted to start over, to forget what happened before... but then, when I saw you... and later that night when we had sex..." Leon said, walking around his living room, venting his feelings and his thoughts with you. "I just can't stop thinking I'm an awful person that's just using you to release my conscious from guilt... but this is so messed up... I mean, I could actually be your father and... and I'm your fucking professor... God, this is so wrong"

And his confession, this breakdown he was having... it was the first time you saw someone scared like this. You thought he was having a middle age crises or something like that, and you know he was entirely right. What you both were doing was wrong, against a lot of rules and basically defying the ethics and morals between your positions. But at the same time, he was so weak for you, and you were so weak for him. He was the only person that could put you on your knees, and apparently, you were the one that made his eyes sparkle like fireworks in the night sky.

This was pure chemistry.

Leon sat on the edge of an old, worn-out armchair, his face buried in his hands, his disheveled hair a stark contrast to the exhaustion etched into his features. You sat across him, wondering what you could possibly do. Taking a deep breath, you decided again to follow your guts. He needed you.

You moved closer, the soft rustling of your movements breaking the silence as you knelt down beside him. You placed a gentle hand on his trembling back.

"Leon," you whispered, your voice a soothing balm, "you don't have to carry this burden alone."

Leon's shoulders shook, and he lifted his head, tears glistening in his weary eyes.

"You don't understand. I've put you in danger. Our secret, it's a ticking time bomb." He said, and for a moment, you knew something was wrong with him. Maybe he was having a hard time accepting what happened between you two. "It's just a matter of time before one of us end fucked up"

You moved even closer, your touch becoming more comforting as you cradled his face in your hands.

"I know it's complicated, Leon. But we've made that choice knowing the risks. I'm not a child, and I can make my own choices. You're not alone in this." You said assuring, trying to find the right words to make him understand that you were in this too.

A tremor ran through Leon's body as he looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but understanding and love there. It was a carnal relationship. You were not his girlfriend, and yes, he was old enough to be your father, but you weren't naive. You wanted to be with him, and he knew that.

"I'm just scared, sweetheart. Scared that one day, they'll find out about us, and you'll be hurt because of me. I can lose my job and never teach again... there's so many things that could happen" Leon sighs, trying to recompose himself. He sounded like a baby boy, but he didn't care. He was honest with his feelings.

You leaned in, your foreheads touching, and whispered:

"Leon, I made this choice too. I knew the risks. But I also knew that I wanted you so badly... and at this point, I just can't stay away from you... and it sucks because I never imagined I would fall in love with my old-enough-to-be-my-dad professor. But here I am" you said, facing his blue eyes so deeply. He penetrates your soul, invading your veins like a drug.

His breathing slowed, and he nodded, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and it was just the two of you, finding solace in each other's embrace.

"I'm not ready for another relationship" he whispers, sounding broken. And that hit you really hard.

"I'm not either. But I promise I won't hurt you... just let me... take care of you" you whispered, your forehead touching his, as you feel his breath against your face.

Six months passed since his apparent breakdown that day.

And since that day, Leon seemed happier than before. All his worries were washed away when he decided to give himself another chance and enter this journey with you. He was healing, learning a new life with you, and despite the fact that it was a secret, he couldn't help but feel a teenager again.

He was distracted, writing in the board and thinking about his life. Then, when Leon turned to face his class, you were there, in the front row. Your eyes locked on his, and the way he was looking at you, it was enough to make your body go feral, already feeling something wet between your thighs.

"So, today's class will be different. I won't give you guys another lecture, " Leon says, making his students chuckle. "Shall we try a new dynamics? Please, Chloe, give me a hand"

Chloe glanced at you, and her cheeks blushed hard. She knew what was happening between you two, and when she saw you nodding discretely your head, she sighed in relief. She went next to him, waiting for new instructions. Leon asked her to help move some desks from the front row, giving enough space to everyone join them in a circle.

"I know, it's sounds like we're in elementary school, but I promise it'll be fun" Leon says, sitting on the floor. "When the subject is war, I want you guys to have a different experience. Yes, we all know what happened between 1914 and 1945, plus the consequences after this war..."

His method was simple but very effective. Although he was old, Leon had a way with his students, and the way he used to teach and talk about history, well... it was something else. He was funny and very intelligent. It was worthy to listen to him talk about the subjects because he made everything sound amazing and interesting.

"But let's be honest in here. Do we really know the consequences? The way people were affected? In history, we say there were thousands of people homeless, alone, and broken both emotionally and mentally. The war affected our economy, our jobs, our families..." Leon kept saying, his eyes focused on something else while he was gesturing his hands. "And when we see things from another perspective, we can change the world if we want. Thinking about that, today we'll share together stories from our families and how we got affected by previous events"

His class sounded surprised. He always found a way to improve his classes, to let people feel comfortable, and to enjoy their time together. And it was true. You could see Leon was very passionate about his job. That glow in his eyes, the way he treated every subject.

"Who wants to go first?" Leon asks, and everyone raised their hands, with no exceptions. "Okay... let's start with..."

And then, his eyes met yours. Everyone was looking at you, even Chloe. You gasped, but then started to talk.

"My family's experience during World War II," you began, your gaze fixed on the map, "is a story of resilience and sacrifice. My grandmother lived in Poland during the war. She was just a teenager when the war broke out."

You paused, your thoughts drifting back in time as you continued. Then you remembered all the times that your family shared this story as a reminder of how cruel the world could be sometimes.

"Her family faced the unimaginable. They were forced to flee their home as the Nazis occupied Poland. They endured hunger, fear, and the constant threat of discovery. My great-grandfather joined the resistance, risking his life to fight for his country's freedom." You said next, remembering the countless times your grandmother told you that story.

You stood up, walked to the board, and moved your finger across the map, tracing the path of your family's journey.

"They traveled for weeks, sometimes on foot, seeking refuge in neighboring countries. They faced discrimination and hardship along the way, but they never lost hope." You said, showing the path your family did to escape war.

"Eventually, they found safety in the United Kingdom, where they rebuilt their lives. My grandmother went on to become a nurse, dedicated to helping others, inspired by the wartime experiences that had shaped her." Your voice grew more impassioned as you shared your family's story.

The classroom was silent, the gravity of your family history sinking in. Leon, especially, couldn't keep his eyes off you. He was paying attention to every single word you said.

"Their story is a testament to the strength of the human spirit during the darkest of times. It's a reminder that war doesn't just affect soldiers and politicians; it touches the lives of ordinary people in profound ways." You concluded, looking at your colleagues, feeling his eyes on you.

"Thank you for sharing that personal perspective. It's a powerful reminder of the human stories that lie beneath the pages of history books." And then, Leon nodded, his eyes filled with respect for your storytelling.

Moving forward, everyone in the class had their moment to speak. Meanwhile, you've noticed that sometimes, Leon was looking at you and then looking somewhere else. At the end of the class, he called you again. His excuse was something related to your last essay that he needed to tell you, and that was why he waited until everyone left the room.

"Am I in trouble, Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, biting your lower lip as you watch him close the door.

"Oh, you have no idea," he said, walking towards you, his hand reaching the back of your head as he pulled you into a kiss. "God, you're so beautiful today. I had a hard time focusing in the class"

"That's why you suggested the conversation? Very smart" you whispered, feeling his lips on your neck as he kisses you passionately.

"Meet me tonight at my place" he said, his hand sliding through your thighs, making their way to your pussy. "At seven"

"Yes, sir" you moaned softly in his ear, automatically spreading your legs for him.

You felt his fingers touching your pussy. Today, you were using a skirt with no panties, since you liked to tease him between classes and when he saw that, he went crazy. You knew he would make you pay back for teasing him, but you didn't care.

"Come on, you really thought I didn't see you teasing me like that?" Leon whispered, circling your clit very slowly as your body joints with his touch. "Such a naughty girl... you think you can walk around shaking that ass and I won't do anything?"

"No, sir" you moaned, biting your lip and trying to control your breath while he kept touching you, his fingers dancing and playing with you.

He kept circling your clit, sometimes his fingers entering your pussy, savoring your cunt. With his free hand, he grabbed your hair tight, pushing your head back and forcing you to look at him while he's fucking you with his fingers. You knew if you closed your legs, he would punish you, so you didn't dare to defy him.

"Please, sir... let me cum" you begged, already feeling the pleasant feeling growing inside you.

And then, a knock on his door was enough to make him back off. Your legs were shaking, your breathing was labored, and Leon glanced at you, being extremely calm. He swallowed and smiled at you.

"Yes?" He said out loud to the person outside.

The door opened.

There was a beautiful woman, she was the most gorgeous you've ever seen in your life. She had a look in her face that you knew pretty well; arrogance. Her eyes met yours, and you felt something burning within you. The way she was looking at him... it made you uncomfortable.

And when she entered that room, you looked at Leon. He was pale.

When you entered your apartment, Chloe was sitting next to the window and painting her nails. When she noticed the look you had on your face, she immediately stopped what she was doing, knowing you needed to talk.

"Hey, bestie. You look like you've seen a ghost. What's up?"

You dropped your bag beside Chloe and plopped down next to her. You took a deep breath and began.

"You won't believe what happened after class today. Leon and I were talking about my essay when this mysterious woman walked in." You said to her, avoiding some spicy details.

"Mysterious woman? Do you mean like a substitute teacher or something?" Chloe raised an eyebrow.

"No, Chloe, it was nothing like that. She was… I don't even know how to describe her. Short dark hair, wearing this red dress that looked like it was from a different century, and she had this air of, I don't know, mystery and arrogance." You shook your head, describing the woman you saw earlier.

"Okay, so what did she do?" Chloe's curiosity grew as she leaned closer, listening to every single word you said.

"The weird part is that as soon as she walked in, Leon's entire demeanor changed. He went all distant, like he didn't even know me. And then, Chloe, he started talking to her. He sounded a little nervous, and she was practically eating him in there!" You continued, your voice tinged with frustration and confusion.

"That's... bizarre. I mean, Leon has always been attentive to you. Are you sure it wasn't just some random conversation?" Chloe's eyes widened, and she leaned in closer.

"I'm positive, Chloe. I could see it in his eyes. It was like he was under some kind of spell, completely captivated by her. And the way they looked at each other, it was like I didn't even exist." You nodded vigorously, sighing again. The image is playing in your head like a loop.

Chloe frowned sympathetically.

"Wow, sis, that does sound strange. Maybe you should talk to Leon about it, find out what's going on." She suggests, trying to cheer you up, knowing it was the right thing to do.

"I know I should, but I don't even know how to bring it up. It felt so... personal, you know? Like they had this secret connection, and I was just an outsider." You sighed again, your frustration evident.

Chloe looked at you like she was thinking about the right words. She knew about your secret relationship with Leon, and despite the fact she was concerned at the very beginning, she truly supported you. And then, you feel her put her arm around your shoulders.

"You're not an outsider, sweetie. Leon cares about you, and there must be a reasonable explanation for this. Maybe he didn't even realize he was acting that way. Talk to him, okay? Communication is key." She says kindly at you, her smile shining.

"You're right, Chloe. I'll talk to him and try to figure this out. I just hope it's nothing serious." You sighing, nodding your head, agreeing with Chloe.

She smiled again and then returned to finish her nails. You texted Leon to know if you could go see him or talk, and then, you left your phone to do your papers from the week.

As the hours pass by, you get no replies from Leon, which is odd. He never failed to text you. Even when he had a lot of essays to read, he always took some minutes from his time to talk to you.

You had spent the past few hours anxiously pacing your apartment, your mind a whirlwind of worry and confusion. Leon had been avoiding your calls and messages, and your instic were telling you something was wrong. Finally, unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, you decided to confront him. Lucky for you, Chloe wasn't in there to stop you from doing something stupid. You didn't care.

You took some time to go to his place. You were thinking about that woman. The way she looked at you, the way she was standing between the two of you. You felt something inside your chest. And it wasn't good.

You stood before the door to Leon's apartment, your heart pounding in your chest. With trembling fingers, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the hallway. After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, revealing Leon's tired face.

"Hey," you stammered, your voice quivering. "We need to talk."

Leon hesitated for a moment before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing you to enter his cozy and cute apartment. The atmosphere felt heavy, suffused with an unspoken tension. You could sense that something was terribly wrong.

You both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying a word. Finally, Leon broke the silence, his voice strained.

"We can't keep doing this." He says, avoiding your eyes for a brief moment.

Doing what? You thought, your heart sinking. You knew exactly what he meant, but hearing it out loud was a devastating blow.

"What do you mean?" Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, your heart skipping a few beats inside your chest.

Leon ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his eyes avoiding yours.

"Us. This... relationship, whatever it is. It's not fair to either of us. I can't give you what you deserve, and I can't keep pretending that I can." He says, and for a moment, you thought he was also heartbroken.

Your entire world seemed to crumble around you as the words sunk in. You had grown so attached to Leon, and you had allowed yourself to hope for something more. But now, it was all slipping away. Tears spilled down your cheeks, your voice trembling with hurt and anger.

"So, you're just going to push me away without even trying to make it work?" You ask him, your words painfully hitting you hard.

"I wish it were that simple. But it's not. I can't keep hurting you like this." Leon's shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated.

With that, he turned away from you, leaving you standing alone in his apartment. You felt like your heart had been ripped from your chest. You knew that trying to change his mind would be futile. With a heavy heart, you made your way to the door.

As you stepped out into the cold night air, you felt a mix of emotions — heartbreak, anger, and confusion. You couldn't go back to your apartment, not now. Chloe would ask you a thousand different questions, and you weren't in the mood to answer. In a moment of recklessness, you reached for your phone and called your ex-boyfriend, someone familiar who had always been there for you.

"Hey," you said when he answered. "Do you want to meet up? I could use some company."

Matthew's voice was warm and comforting as he agreed, and you knew that, at least for tonight, you needed the familiarity of the past to help mend your wounded heart.

As you stepped into the bar, the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses enveloped you. Looking around, you couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness as you glanced at the familiar figure waiting by the entrance. Matthew, your ex-boyfriend, stood there with a hesitant smile, his eyes carrying a mix of uncertainty and nostalgia.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft.

"Hey," you replied, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Then, you two exchanged awkward pleasantries and then settled into a booth at the back of the bar.

The atmosphere was charged with unspoken words as they ordered drinks. After a moment, Matthew cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"You know, I've been thinking a lot about us lately," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the tabletop.

"Me too, Matt. It's hard not to, you know." You sighed, you heart fluttering.

You two began to talk about your past, reminiscing about the good times and dissecting the reasons for your breakup. As the conversation flowed, old emotions resurfaced, and your connection reignited. With a mixture of longing and desire, Matthew reached across the table and gently caressed your hand. You met his gaze, your eyes filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty.

And then, you finally remembered your previous conversation with Leon. You were so heartbroken by his words; he made you feel like heaven, and then he dropped you like you were nothing. And the sad part was you couldn't understand why.

You look at Matthew, and then it happens.

Your lips met in a passionate kiss, igniting a spark that died a long time ago. But as your kiss deepened, a wave of nausea washed over you, and you pulled away, gasping.

"I... I need some air," you stammered, sliding out of the booth and rushing towards the exit.

The cool night air hit your face as you stumbled outside, trying to collect your thoughts. Feeling disoriented, you leaned against the brick wall of the bar. That's when you heard a familiar voice.

"What the hell?"

Turning around, you found herself face to face with Leon. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in your disheveled appearance.

"Leon, I..." You started, but before you could explain, Leon interrupted.

"Come with me," he said firmly, slipping his arm around your waist and leading your away from the bar. You both walked in silence, a subtle tension hanging in the air.

As they reached Leon's apartment, you felt a mix of relief and trepidation. Leon's face was tense, his brows furrowed, as he tried to find the right words to express his feelings. The tension between them was palpable, a thick cloud of unresolved emotions hanging in the air.

"You went out with Matthew again?" Leon's voice was laced with disappointment as he folded his arms across his chest.

"What's the big deal, Leon? You're the one who ended things, remember? You said we wouldn't work out." You look at him, angry and frustrated.

Leon sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had to choose his words carefully.

"It's not that simple. There are things you don't know." He says, avoiding your gaze for a moment. There you knew, he was hiding something.

"Leon," you began, your voice quivering with a mix of frustration and hurt, "I can't believe you're making such a big deal out of this."

Leon took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

"It's not about making a big deal out of it. It's about trust and respect in our relationship." He says firmly, trying to justify what happened.

You clenched your fists, your eyes flashing with anger. For a moment, you wanted to punch him in the face after he said that. He was being a hypocrite.

"Trust? Respect? You're the one who broke up with me, remember? You said we wouldn't work out. So why do you care who I go out with now?" You asked him again, your voice raising a little.

Leon's jaw tightened.

"I broke up with you because of something else, but that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you. And it certainly doesn't mean I want to see you with your ex."

You shook your head, your frustration mounting. Why couldn't he just trust you? You both been hiding this relationship for months, and now you noticed he didn't truly trust you. And that hurts a lot.

"You can't have it both ways, Leon. You can't end things and then act like you have a say in who I see or what I do." You said to him with a deep sigh. And it was true. He wasn't your owner.

Leon's voice grew more desperate.

"I still love you. I thought we could work through our problems, but seeing you with him... it hurts." He said, his breath was heavier.

"What are you hiding from me?" You ask him, wanting nothing more but the truth. You deserved to know. "Who was that woman?"

Leon avoided your gaze again, which made you way more angrier. He sat on his couch, his face buried in his hands. At this very moment, he was having the most difficult choice in his hands. It was a burden.

"She's... my ex fiancé" Leon finally looks at you, and this time, your jaw dropped. "And I think she knows about us"

And again, you felt your heart skipping a few beats. Your palms were sweating cold, and you felt your entire body shaking. This was very serious.

"What do you mean?" You ask, sounding less angry and more concerned, sitting next to him on his couch.

Leon took a deep breath, his fingers trembling as he pulled out his phone. He unlocked the screen and handed it over to you. On the screen were a series of threatening text messages, the sender's name blocked. Your eyes widened as you read the ominous words.

"Leon, who's sending you these messages? What's going on?" You ask horrified to him, still looking at his phone.

Leon swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"I don't know who it is, but they somehow found out about us, about our relationship. Look at the last message." He pointed at the screen, his voice quivering with a mix of fear and anger.

The final message was chilling: "Break up with her, Leon, or everyone at college will know your secret. Your reputation will be ruined."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked up from the phone to meet Leon's gaze.

"Leon, holy shit... we can't let them control us like this. I know it's against the rules, but we love each other." You said, trying to be reasonable. You were shaking. If someone leaked the information, he would be ruined for life.

Leon nodded, his eyes filled with determination.

"I know. I don't want to break up with you. But I'm scared of what they might do if we don't comply." He sighs, trying to find a way out from this mess.

"So... I think we... I don't know" Your voice sounds more like a whisper, and he looks at you.

Then, suddenly, you feel his lips against yours, his hands trailing down your body. Leon gripped your wrist and twisted it behind your back; you can feel his nails dug sharply into your skin, and instantly, you felt a rush of excitement, followed immediately by a wave of desire.

You had secretely wanting for this, had spelled out the fantasy in detail, wondering how he would fulfill your fantasy. And now that it was here, digging into your flesh and forcing your face-down onto the wall, it was too much: not just the helplessness, but how exciting the helplessness felt.

You didn't want to be that person. That cliche, the powerful woman who deep down just wants to be mastered by a more powerful man. Your safeword bubbled up in your throat, but you gritted your teeth and choked it back down. You had begged for this, and by God, you were going to see it through.

Leon led you to his room, already throwing you on his bed, spreading your legs without gentleness. He needed you. He desired you more than anything.

He forced his knee between your thighs and fumbled with his zipper, and all you could do was basically smalls whimpers, in something resembling real panic, as you felt pure wetness inside your pussy, already aching without his touches.

"Jesus Christ, bunny... I've missed seeing you like this" he whispers, his lips already circling your nipples.

His words made your pussy wetter, and the sharp fingers forcing your cunt lips apart made it wetter still, and you moaned in desire and pleasure at your treacherous pussy that was begging for his cock to force itself inside you like it was the last thing you would do in life.

"I'm gonna take you, bunny. I'm gonna make you scream my name" he said, his grip getting tight as you feel your stomach twisting.

And then, you feel him rammed himself inside you with full thrusts, going so deeper that you felt pain at first. He pinned your hands up, holding them so tight that it was almost impossible to get rid of him. His lips sucked your nipples with so intensity that when he released them, it was a soft shade of red.

"My bunny seems lusty" he moans again, still holding you tight.

"F-uck" you moan, closing and squeezing your eyes, your body automatically following his pace, your tits shaking up and down.

You feel Leon moving in and out of you. And your body jerked back and forth with the strength of his movement. The bed was practically banging against the wall with violence, and with every sharp thrust, your skin slapped together lusciously. This sex was loud and violent, just as you'd wanted.

Your moans and cries grew louder. You were at the very edge, about to explode into pleasure. Noticing how close you were, Leon flipped you over seamlessly and continued pumping into you with enough force to make you see stars. You were crying, desperate to be released, desperate to have your orgasm and be his.

You open your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks. His eyes were shining like sapphires, touched by the sun in a glorious morning, and his perfect features were shimmering with sweat. Leon looked beautiful than ever, like he was made by the Gods and blessed with their grace.

“You are mine, bunny. Do you understand me? I don't want to see you with him ever again" he rasped fiercely, leaning forward, as you felt him grabbing your face gently with one hand.

Waves of heat flooded your body. All you wanted was to cum on him, all you wanted was to be his and his only. You didn't care if people find out about you two; you wanted him.

Suddenly, Leon obliged you, wrapping his arms around your back. All you left escape was a gasp when he swung you onto his lap as he moved to the edge of the bed, still forcing you to keep your legs open. In one brutal thrust, he set you down on his length, filling you so suddenly you cried out in shock. His hands roamed, over you back and bottom, on your breasts, rubbing against your nipples.

He was everywhere.

Leon pulled you back up and then slammed you down again. You felt like you were flying, spinning, wondering why he made you feel so good and why you didn't let him do that before. Waves of pleasure rolled over you, making your entire body shiver with anticipation of your climax. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding you down when gravity ceased to exist.

And he was kind to let you cum.

You gasped for air, and the orgasm came to your relief. You were vaguely aware of his voice, your body shaking with this sudden release of pleasure as he whispered words of love and care. When you came back to your reality, you glanced at him, a tired smile on your lips, indicating you were more than satisfied.

"I love you" he says finally, kissing you passionately, his sweaty face and tired expression admiring yours.

Things couldn't be better for both of you and Leon. Sure, you both had to pretend for everyone nothing was going on. His ex fiancé was still around, and Matthew kept trying to convince you to hang out, which you declined every time, saying you needed to focus on college and, most recently, your new job.

You were working on a coffee shop not so far from your apartment, and you were excited. At least once in a week, Leon would go in there just to see you, and sometimes he wasn't alone. A few other professors would go in there as well, so he had excuses to see you.

As for the blackmail messages, it stopped for a few days. The last one he received was a picture from both of you kissing, so he decided it was safe to keep things lay low. He had to ignore you during classes, he avoided you inside the college — but at his apartment he would eat you alive without hesitation, making his neighbors know you're his and make them hear you moan very loud and beg to cum.

"So, how you're doing?" Chloe asks, sitting next to you for lunch. "It seems like you're happier than usual"

"Oh, it's just my new job" you said, obviously lying. Leon had specifically told you not to tell anyone, even your best friend.

"I'm happy for you" she smiled, her eyes shining again. "Does Matthew keep texting you?"

"Not really, I said that night was a mistake, and I was drunk. I apologized to him, " you explained, your eyes focused on your laptop as you research for your next assignment. "Anyways, it won't happen again"

Chloe nods, and then her attention returns to her own work. You wanted so badly to tell her about you and Leon, but you knew you couldn't put him in trouble. You sat at your desk in your bedroom, your fingers tapping nervously on the keyboard as you tried to focus on your homework. The soft glow of your laptop illuminated the room, casting a pale, eerie light on your anxious expression. You glanced at the clock on your wall, your heart racing with anticipation. Leon was supposed to call you any minute now.

Just as you reached for your phone, it vibrated with an incoming message. Your heart skipped a beat as you picked it up, hoping to see Leon's name. Instead, the message was from an unknown number.

The message read: "Naughty slut. I know your secret. I know about you and Leon. If you don't do as I say, everyone at college will find out."

Fear clenched at your chest, and you felt your hands trembling. You knew he was receiving messages, and it was a matter of time before you got your first, too. You quickly typed a response, your fingers fumbling on the screen.

"Who is this? What do you want?"

The reply came almost instantly, and it sent a chill down your spine: "You'll find out soon enough. But here's a taste of what's to come."

A photo appeared on the screen, a candid shot of you and Leon sharing an intimate moment inside his apartment. Your heart sank as you realized just how much the blackmailer knew.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you texted back: "Please, don't do this. We'll do whatever you want, just don't ruin our lives."

The reply was merciless: "You have 48 hours to meet my demands. You'll receive instructions soon. Remember, I'm watching."

Your phone went silent, but the threat hung in the air like a dark cloud. You knew your world was about to crumble, and there was no escape from the impending storm. You couldn't tell Leon, the blackmailer would know instantly. It was only you.

The room was dark and silent, the only source of illumination being the glow of your phone on the bedside table. You had been sitting there for what felt like an eternity, anxiety gnawing at you every passing minute. You had followed the instructions meticulously, as the blackmailer had demanded: no police, no friends, no Leon, just you, alone.

The digital clock on your phone ticked away relentlessly, the seconds feeling like a cruel countdown to your impending doom. You had been given 48 hours to comply with the blackmailer's demands, and time was running out.

As you stared at the screen, your heart raced with every passing minute. You knew the stakes were high, but the thought of exposing her secret relationship with Leon was unbearable. You couldn't let anything bad happen to him.

Just when desperation was starting to overtake you, a familiar chime broke the silence of the room. A text message had arrived. Your trembling hands reached for the phone, and you unlocked it with trembling fingers.

The message was chillingly simple: "You have one hour. Go to the college auditorium. Come alone, or your secret will be revealed."

Your heart sank as you read those words. The threat was crystal clear, and you had no choice but to comply. You quickly texted back an acknowledgment, confirming your compliance.

With a heavy heart, you began to prepare. You couldn't let this person destroy your life and Leon's. The next hour was a blur of frantic thoughts and hasty preparations. You dressed in dark clothing, concealing your identity as best as you could.

As the minutes ticked away, you left your apartment, your heart pounding with fear and determination. You had no idea what awaited you at the auditorium, but you were willing to do whatever it took to protect Leon.

As you arrive at the college, you walk towards the auditorium. You pushed open the heavy oak doors of the college auditorium, your heart pounded in your chest. That room, usually a place of inspiration and camaraderie, felt eerie and foreboding today.

The rows of empty seats seemed to stretch endlessly before you, leading you closer to the stage where a single figure stood, bathed in a cold, unforgiving spotlight. Chloe. Your best friend. The person you trusted the most.

"Chloe, what's going on?" Your voice quivered as you approached your friend, your steps echoing in the cavernous auditorium.

"Surprise" Chloe turned, her face twisted with a mix of emotions, her eyes wide and frenzied.

"Why are you doing this?" You demanded, tears brimming in your eyes as you realized it was her all the time.

"Because I love you, sweetheart. I've always loved you, and I couldn't stand seeing you with Leon." Chloe's laughter was unnerving, a shrill, hollow sound that bounced off the walls.

Your heart sank as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Chloe's jealousy had driven her to blackmail, to manipulate, to hurt those you cared about.

"You... love me?" You stammered.

Chloe's expression twisted with a manic intensity.

"Yes! I would do anything for you, darling. I had to get rid of Matthew and Leon to eliminate the competition and to make you see that you belong with me." She reveals to you, sounding sadistic and crazy.

She opened the curtains from the auditorium, and there he was. His face had a few bruises, and he was gagged, tied by his hands. You gasped in shock, but you didn't dare to move. You felt a chill run down your spine. This wasn't the Chloe you had known. This was a stranger, consumed by obsession.

"Chloe, this isn't love," you said, your voice trembling. "This is madness."

Chloe's laughter grew louder, more unhinged.

"You don't understand, darling. I did it all for us." She looks at you, pointing a knife towards you.

As Chloe's words hung in the air, the auditorium's silence was shattered by the sound of sirens approaching in the distance. Your heart raced, realizing that Chloe's breakdown had reached a critical point.

"I can't let them take you away," Chloe muttered, her voice a desperate whisper.

Before you could react, Chloe lunged forward, but a uniformed police officer burst through the auditorium doors, gun drawn. Chaos ensued, the echoes of sirens and shouting blending with your racing thoughts.

It happened fast.

In one minute, Chloe tried to end his life. In the other, you heard a gunshot, and Chloe was on the floor. You screamed, reaching both Leon and Chloe.

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corruptedcaps · 1 day

Text

Bad Influence

Isabel Parker, a middle-aged teacher, had long accepted the ebb and flow of her life. Divorced and childless, she had poured herself into her career, teaching English at the same high school she had herself attended. The years had not been particularly kind, her once bright eyes now lined with fatigue, her figure softened with time and a lack of care. But Isabel's latest frustration wasn’t her aging body or the quiet loneliness that had settled into her evenings. It was Jonas.

Ever since Jonas had transferred to her school a month ago, he had made her lessons a chore. His presence in her classroom was like a dark cloud, disrupting the order she meticulously tried to maintain. He was charming in a way that grated on her nerves, always finding the right moment to crack a joke, pull a stunt, or distract others. Worse yet, his influence was spreading. The once diligent students were beginning to slip, their grades reflecting the chaos Jonas seemed to thrive on.

Today, she had reached her limit. As the bell rang, Isabel’s voice cut through the usual post-class shuffle. “Jonas, I need a word with you after class.”

As the classroom emptied, Isabel remained seated at her desk, watching Jonas approach with a casual, almost lazy stride. He slid into the chair across from her, his smirk already in place.

“Jonas, this can’t go on. You’re causing too many issues in class, and it’s affecting everyone’s grades. If you don’t shape up, I’ll have no choice but to recommend expulsion.” She said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Jonas leaned back, his smirk widening into something more defiant. He toyed with a ring that was on his finger. “No, you won’t, and no, I won’t change.” As he spoke she noticed the ring on his finger begin to glow.

Isabel opened her mouth to argue, but he continued, his voice taking on an oddly soothing cadence. “In fact, I think YOU should change. Maybe you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a student.”

His words wrapped around her like a blanket, warm and oddly comforting. She blinked, her eyes suddenly heavy. “What are you…?” She tried to ask, but her thoughts felt sluggish, her eyelids drooping as his voice filled her mind. Then it all went dark.

Isabel awoke with a start. She was in her bed, sunlight filtering through the curtains, but something was off. Her last memory was of the conversation with Jonas. Then nothing. How had she gotten home? Was it all a dream?

Disoriented, she pushed back the covers and swung her legs out of bed. A strange sensation rippled through her as she stood up, a lightness she hadn’t felt in years. She padded toward the bathroom, intending to splash water on her face to clear the fog in her mind. But as she passed the mirror in the hallway, she froze.

A stranger stared back at her. Isabel’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the reflection. It was of a young woman, vibrant and full of life. Her heart pounded as she slowly raised a trembling hand to her face, the mirror echoing the movement. The skin was smooth, unmarked by time, her body slender and firm. She was 18 again.

Shock gave way to a strange, tingling intrigue as she took a step closer to the mirror, running her hands down the curves of her body. This was her, once. She had forgotten how beautiful she had been. Her body was sleek, her breasts big and firm, her hair thick and full of life.

Isabel stood before the mirror as the events of the previous day flooded back. Jonas. His words echoed in her mind: “You should change.” A chill ran down her spine. Somehow, impossibly, he had done this to her. He had transformed her into her eighteen-year-old self. Panic and disbelief wrestled within her, but one thing was clear, she had to find Jonas and make him reverse whatever he had done.

Isabel pulled into the school parking lot, her heart racing. As she scanned the rows of cars, she spotted Jonas stepping out of his sporty car, his usual smirk in place. Without hesitation, she threw her car into park and marched over to him, her anger bubbling to the surface.

“What the hell did you do to me?” She demanded, her voice sharper and more aggressive than it had been in years.

Jonas turned toward her, confusion flickering in his eyes as he took in the sight of the young woman storming toward him in frumpy mom clothes. Then, realization dawned, and his smirk widened into something more amused.

“Wow, Ms. Parker, I didn’t know you were such a knockout as a younger woman.” He drawled, his eyes raking over her.

The unexpected compliment caught Isabel off guard, a flush creeping up her neck. She hadn’t been prepared for his reaction, for the way his gaze lingered on her in a way that made her feel both self-conscious and oddly flattered. But she quickly pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the anger that had brought her here.

“This isn’t funny, Jonas. You need to reverse whatever this is. Now.” She snapped, trying to regain control of the situation.

Jonas held her gaze, toying with the ring on his finger. It seemed to respond to his touch, glowing slightly making Isabel feel light headed. She knew it was to blame for this but he had the control. His eyes danced with amusement tempered by something more calculating. After a moment, he sighed, almost as if he were considering her plea. “Alright, Ms. Parker, I’ll reverse it. But only if you agree to spend one day as a student.” He said, his tone surprisingly gentle.

Her immediate instinct was to refuse. The idea was absurd, humiliating even. But as she opened her mouth to protest, Jonas cut her off. “You’ve already called in sick I assume, so what harm could one day do?” He pointed out, his smirk returning.

"Absoultely not!" Isobel shot back.

"Come on, you've been stuck behind that desk too long. You need to see things from a young person's point of view. 24 hours and after that you can go back to your dull teaching." He added.

Isabel hesitated, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She hated the idea, but what choice did she have? With a resigned sigh, she muttered, “Fine.”

Jonas’s grin widened. “Good. But first, you’ll have to change. No teenager would be caught dead in those clothes.”

She looked down at her oversized sweater and jeans, irritation flaring again. “This is all I have.” She snapped.

“Don’t worry, I can help with that too.” He said with a mischievous glint in his eye as he opened his trunk. Isabel leaned in and her eyes went wide with what she saw.

Jonas walked into the school with Isabel by his side. A short flowery skirt clung to her hips, while a tight black top covered more of her arms than her body. Her hair was up in two ponytails to try and high heels clicked against the tiled floor. Her whole look appeared designed to accentuate her youthful figure in a way that felt foreign and uncomfortable. Makeup highlighted her features, giving her a polished, alluring look she hadn’t worn in years. Pink fake nails were pressed onto her fingers giving them a long an elegant look. Every step felt like a performance, each glance from her peers a spotlight she wasn’t prepared for.

As they entered the hallway, conversations slowed, eyes turning to take her in. Isabel could feel the stares, a mix of curiosity and admiration that made her skin prickle and cause her to play with her hair nervously.

“Where did your ex-girlfriend shop? Strippers-r-us? This isn’t going to work, they’re all staring at me! I look like a slutty schoolgirl!” She hissed, trying to adjust the hem of her skirt without drawing more attention.

Jonas chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “I'm not the one who decided on the pigtails but just relax. Every guy here is staring at you because they find you hot and all the girls are staring because they’re jealous. Use that. Let it fuel your attitude.”

Isabel bit back a retort, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Irritation, embarrassment, and a flicker of something else she couldn’t quite identify. As much as she hated to admit it, part of her wondered if she could pull it off.

When she was in high school there was a strict dress code enforced that prohibited the kind of clothing she now had on. She had spent her schooling buried under long skirts and baggy sweaters. No one had seen her naked until she had married her now ex husband in college.

As Isabel and Jonas walked down the hall, they were suddenly intercepted by Stacey, the school’s queen bee and notorious mean girl. Stacey’s eyes narrowed as she took in Isabel, her sharp gaze assessing every detail. For a second Isobel panicked, thinking Stacey somehow recognised her.

“Who’s the babe?” She asked Jonas, her voice dripping with curiosity and a hint of suspicion. Isabel opened her mouth to introduce herself, but before she could get a word out, Jonas wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “This is Bella. My girlfriend." He said smoothly, flashing a charming smile.

Isabel’s eyes widened in shock, and she quickly leaned in to whisper, “This wasn’t part of the plan!”

"Stacey has been trying to date me since I started going here, let's kill two birds with one stone here so she'll get off my back." Jonas whispered back.

Stacey’s gaze flicked between the two of them, her eyes narrowing as she sized up this new girl. Isabel could practically see the wheels turning in Stacey’s mind, calculating whether “Bella” was someone to be wary of or not.

"So you're the infamous girlfriend he's talked about. I knew you'd have to be a knockout for him to resist my advances these past few weeks." Stacey said, letting her demeanor soften as she flashed a cheeky smile. Her tone was laced with faux sweetness, but there was a grudging respect in her eyes.

Before Isabel could respond, Stacey grabbed her arm with surprising strength. “Come on, you’ve got to tell me and the girls how you snagged such a hunk like Jonas.” She said, pulling Isabel over to her friends. Isabel shot a panicked glance back at Jonas, but he just grinned, clearly amused by the unfolding events.

Within seconds, Isabel found herself in the center of a circle of the school’s most feared girls, the ones who ruled the hallways with sharp tongues and even sharper glares. As Stacey introduced her to each one, Isabel couldn’t help but feel a strange shift in the air.

These girls, who as a teacher had once seemed untouchable in their arrogance, were now looking at her with something akin to respect. But it wasn’t just respect, there was a subtle undercurrent of intimidation that hadn’t been there before.

As each girl was introduced, Isabel noticed how they averted their gazes, their confident postures faltering ever so slightly when they looked at her. They offered nervous smiles, their voices quieter than usual when they addressed her.

“So, Bella, how did you and Jonas meet?” Stacey asked.

It felt like an eternity to Isabel before she spoke next, her mind trying to figure out how best to play the situation. The girls already seemed intimidated by her just by being associated with Jonas, maybe she needed to drive that home.

“Oh, it was sooo dramatic. Jonas was with some girl, can’t even remember the loser's name now. She thought she had him wrapped around her finger. But he wasn't hers to have. I saw what I wanted, and I took it.” She said, her voice smooth and confident.

The other girls leaned in closer, their eyes wide with intrigue. Isabel could feel their attention, their admiration. It was intoxicating. She had them hanging on her every word.

“I just walked right up to them, pulled that bitch's hair back and said ‘You’re out of your league, sweetheart. He’s mine now.’ She didn’t stand a chance.” Isabel continued, the story taking on a life of its own.

The girls gasped, their eyes flicking between Isabel and Jonas, who was casually leaning against a locker, watching with an amused smirk.

As Isabel spoke, she found herself slipping into the imagined role of Bella that she was concocting on the spot with surprising ease. She played with her hair, twirling a strand around her finger, then letting it fall with a careless flick. She admired her long nails nonchalantly as she continued her story.

"Of course that little bitch went running to the principal to tattle on me but Jonas was a knight in shining armor and took the blame. He got expelled of course and that's why he's here." She said looking over to Jonas with a smile that felt genuine, as if what she said actually happened.

All the girls let out a 'aww' in unison as they looked over to Jonas. They turned back to Isabel, ready to ask follow up questions when the bell rang. The girls exchanged glances, reluctant to break away from the spell Isabel had cast over them.

Stacey looked at the girls rapt by Isobel's story and Isobel thought she saw a flash of jealously in her face. "Come on girls, lets get going and let the lovebirds catch up. See you later babe." Stacey said herding the girls away while flashing a look at Isobel that seemed to imply more than her words were saying.

Isabel watched them go, a strange mix of satisfaction and disbelief settling over her. She had done it, she’d played the part flawlessly. Effortlessly even. As the hallway emptied, she sidled up to Jonas, who was leaning against his locker with an amused expression.

“Bella sounds like quite the wicked bitch.” Jonas teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Isabel rolled her eyes, but there was a playful edge to it. She opened his locker almost on auto pilot to use his mirror. She plucked an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly, studying her reflection, then flicked her hair back with practiced ease. “I was just playing the part, the one I’ve seen girls like that go through these halls year after year. They all have the same playbook. There is always an alpha, I just recreated what I've seen.” She said casually.

Jonas’s smirk deepened. “Oh, so you’re the alpha now?”

Isabel turned to face him, her lips curving into a sly smile. She batted her eyelashes playfully, leaning in just a bit closer. “Isn’t it obvious? I'm your 'infamous' girlfriend after all.” She replied, her voice dripping with a bratty drawl.

For a moment, they locked eyes, their bodies slowly drifting towards one another as if they were two unstoppable magnets. Their hormones going into overdrive as they both were unsure of what was about to happen.

To be continued...

#f2f #bitchification #magic #evil couple #cc2024 #badinfluence

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tigertan · 7 months

Text

neighborly favors and chicago cigarettes.

uhh late to the bear party but eat up anyway .

probably part one of a slow burn fic im writing .. lmk if the public wants more :3 CONTEXT } you recently moved to chicago with the help of your friend syndey, who's boss-slash-friend-slash-business partner had an open apartment across from him. [word count ; 4k] [ mentions of alchohol, cigarettes, cursing. ]

;; all fluff. awkward first meetings. a lot of fuckin' tension and shared cigarettes.

the blackened mac and cheese in the pot bubbles vengefully on the stovetop and you curse it right back with a hissed out, “fuuuck.”

you’d left the stove on for a bit too long when you went to hop into the shower. as a result your mac and cheese became charcoal black and smoking. it’s a wonder how the fire alarm didn’t go off as you grab the handle with a stained rag and toss it into the sink.

the hot pot emits a dying hiss as it hits the water, and red whines from under the couch. “yeah, i know.” you respond to him, standing square in the kitchen and staring at the pot of your former dinner. “that was the last box too, shit.” you groan, finally stepping forward to peer over the sink edge and now you were staring at the guttering pasta and dairy mixture with furrowed brows. “fuck.” you say once more. instead of red’s usual whine in response your phone buzzes on the countertop and you received a text from sydney. she’s down by the bear if you wanted to stop by and maybe grab dinner with her and some of the staff since closing is in 30 minutes? you respond to her with a swift hell yeah. you didn’t dress up much. neat white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. afterall, the bear was a walking distance of four to five minutes. and you throw on a black puffer jacket, for chicago wasn’t christened the windy city for nothing. again, an entire scene change from the warm, near stagnant winds of southern california.

leaving red in the bedroom as it’s way past his bedtime, you grab your phone, wallet, and keys before stuffing your hands in your pockets and stepping out. but as you do there’s a rustling of paper against polyester and a crumpled sheet inside your left pocket. you already know what it is before pulling it out and every fiber in you wants to throw it away. it’s a photo roll— from last winter— of you and your ex-boyfriend, lucas. you sigh, stuffing your bottom lip between your teeth as you stare at the once over the moon you and him. it seemed so long ago, before he started drinking. you clench your jaw. you’d moped around enough in the past three months. this was a fresh start that everyone said you’d deserved, and it would not be ruined by him. nothing would ever be ruined by him again. a spike of anger wedges between your ribs, familiar and fucking ugly. you heave your chest once, exhaling it out along with the paper roll, tossing it to the floor. you jet down the stairs two at a time and step into the windy streets of the windy city, smelling the air. it smelled of petrol and cigarettes, but you didn’t outright hate it. it smelled like l.a. but then again, every big city probably smelled like gas and smoke.

the walk was quicker than you expected, as you strode down the street, you took in the street signs and flashing lights and other lone passerby who shared the sidewalk with you. a peaceful time of stressful pacing, for many a person walking the streets so late at night.

the bear was an elegant place, with a contemporary touch to the furnishings and finishings that you could see from the outside itself. you stepped inside, warm smells of food filling your nostrils and teasing your tastebuds.

it was beautiful, the ambiance had an aura that screamed both family and stress. but such was to be expected from a place that was aiming for a michelin star. you spotted where staff filtered in and out from the front of house and back of house and was beginning to make a line towards it when you were stopped by a very tall man— in his forties most likely— standing behind a lectern at the front who slid his hand between you and your goal. he wore a crisply pressed, all black suit and a buzz cut. “reservation ma’am,” he asked, a cocked brow as he took in your simple attire. you suddenly felt extremely self-conscious of your sweatpants and plain shirt; probably stained as well. “ah— well, i’m friends with sydney,” you reply, hoping it gets you past him. he doesn’t seem to be budged and you get nervous, even a little pissed from the way he’s looking at you. you’re a decent height, but he’s tall. that makes you shift on your feet. “i moved in next to her uh, friend-slash-buisness partner-slash-executive chef? does that— does that ring any bells?” you add on, shrugging. the big puffer you have on probably is not helping your case. “uh-huh.” he nods over another waitstaff, whispers in their ear and sends them off. you two then stand there for a bit, his blue eyes seeming staring directly into you and you shuffle a bit on your feet. you introduce yourself, guessing that maybe reducing the barrier of strangers would ease the tension of this encounter. telling him your name, you hold your hand out. he looks at it then back up to your face before taking it with a grip like iron. “richard. richie. nice to meet yo’.” “nice to meet you too, richie.” you nod shake his hand. at that moment the wait staff is back and whispers again in richie’s ear. he nods and they go back onto the floor and richie nods towards the back. “guess you’re free to go sweetheart.” he gives you a wink as you pass and you give him a scrunched up side eye. what a weirdo. the kitchen is fast. fast isn’t even the best way to describe it. just standing in the doorway had your palms itching to jump in and help, although you wouldn’t be much help, being a preschool teacher. a waiter was coming at you in long strides, an expensive dish in their hands and you immediately stepped to the side, not wanting to be the cause for someone missing their meal. you spot sydney, at the front of the line and constantly spewing out order after order after order, each one responding with a, “yes chef!” from the cooks in the kitchen.

suddenly another chef bursts into the kitchen from the front and his pale brown hair is flying at the ends, although it looks like he’d tried to slick it back it obviously failed; his eyes are a striking blue and widened, the irises eating away the white sclera. but even though he seemed a tad shorter than you, he was pretty fuckin’ cute. that was, until, he opened his mouth and his voice climbed to a screaming spiel at sydney and anyone who was around, really. rounding the large table of food and preparation in the middle of the kitchen, he grabbed two trays and shoved them at the waitstaff. while you didn’t understand most of it, kitchen lingo was incredibly confusing— why was everyone chef? how do you know who was talking to who?— you could tell that he was practically bursting in anger, the bridge of his nose bunched up with the t-zone of his face.

it was a sight really. a perhaps five seven man in a pressed white chef outfit screaming like all hell was breaking loose. maybe a little scary, but you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. from whatever dramas you’ve seen on chef life and the such— take marco pierre white, for example— head chefs were incredibly demanding, seemingly downright arrogant.

you didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, being a prime target for your un-chef-liness in the midst of a busybodied kitchen, so you ducked into what looked like an office, one wall plastered with a ceiling-to-floor bookshelf and a framed picture of a baseball stadium. hopefully you were safe in here. you sighed.

but it turns out you weren’t, because that same short angry chef came barreling into the office area and stopped short when he spotted you, the scream dying on his tongue. there was the thick and familiar air of awkward tension and you fiddled with the material in your pockets, swallowing. “hello.” you break in and he blinks. his eyes are huge, you realize. “are you— are you going to yell at me too?” “uh. i’m– i’m sorry, wh—” he replies, brows furrowing as he looks you up and down. “CARMY!” sydney followed in closely after the chef, cutting him off. she looked at you, doing a short double take before looking back at— carmy? “can you just— can you calm down? you’re scaring everyone again.” she sighed, obvious exasperation on her face. it flicked a switch in carmy and he turned to her, all the anger filling his features in an instant. “no syd, the fucking fish is cold again. we have a vip up there and the fish is cold and—” he was like a candle wick, you realized. exploding now and then in violent, flashing flames, only to get doused out with a simple thing or the other.

this time it was sydney circling her heart with a closed fist. and he stuttered, swallowing harshly before doing the getsure back to her. “i’m sorry.” she says, “i was caught up again and it all got fucked. i’ll fix it.” unsure of what to do, you debated doing it too. but maybe that would be weird. so you instead shoved your hands deeper in your pocket and thinned your lips. “uh. sorry,” you shot a look to carmy. “should i go?” you asked sydney. “i thought you guys were uh. done so i like— came over here.”

sydney chuckled lightly, though it sounded more tired than anything. “no, no you’re fine. it’s just the dinner rush. it’s dying out, the kitchen closes in like— fifteen minutes. i didn’t realize you’d get here so quickly.” “well, it’s like a five minute walk, so.” you explain. “i would’ve hung out with red,” you joke. sydney grins. “yeah, he would’ve liked that a lot more.” “okay, who is this?” carmy interjects, hands splayed in front of him as if he tried to physically stop the conversation between you and sydney. your friend nodded as if to say oh yeah, and gestured to you, telling carmy your name. “she’s the one who moved across from you. that’s why i asked you for that apartment information.”

he just nods, then hands you another look before turning on his heel back into the kitchen.

sydney watches him walk away and then turns to you. she shrugs in apology and you dismiss it with a wave. “i’m. so sorry. i genuinely thought you’d take longer. just… hang out in here, i guess.” you laugh and take a seat— gingerly— in the office chair. “yeah, i’ll just hang out in here.” sydney nods then jets back to the chaos that is the kitchen after flashing you another one of her signature smiles. thank goodness you’d downloaded that mind-numbing mobile app on the flight here.

-- you could hear the unwinding of the kitchen from the office. it was evident; the defeated hiss of fired pans falling into a sink, stoves clicking off, and the urgent yells of the staff had reduced to inaudible chatter. carmy walks back into the office, and he seemingly forgot you were there, from the way he stopped in his tracks and blinked at you. he was no longer in a chef uniform, eight sets of buttons across his chest were swapped out for a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that were too tight around his calves. the shirt also was fitted around his chest despite the bagginess it held around the rest of his frame. did he have a thing for too-tight clothes? you looked up, and immediately stood from the chair, apology written across your face. “ah. sorry. syd said i could wait in here after… all that.” “yeah, no no, it’s… it’s fine. i just need, uh,” he pointed to the jacket hanging on the seat of the chair. the one you’d been half sitting-slash-leaning on, and had noted mentally that it was a pretty ugly shade of brown. “oh. yeah.” you fumble the pickup, fumble the fucking delivery, but the jacket ends back in carmy’s hands and he slides it on. only then you realize he had tattoos. all over his arms.

you’d always wanted a tattoo, maybe one of red. you’d seen other dog obsessed people on tiktok get tattoos of their dog’s paws and noses. carmy’s ink peered out from his jacket, littering his left hand in numbers and other stray marks. you sort of stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do until he speaks, “are you um— you’re sydney’s friend?” he asks, blinking voraciously. you nod. “yeah. that’s me.” theres a bit of a chuckle to it, in the hopes of the labored tension between you two will dissipate.

unfortunately it doesn’t.

you’d heard many things about this guy, everything but his name, surprisingly. sydney had raved about him being named the ‘best chef’ in the ‘best restaurant’ in america. in socal, with the budget you had, the best you’d get was souplantation. it’s a shame they shut down.

maybe he should win an award for most awkward man ever, you thought with a bitter edge, swallowing hard. “are you going to the bar too?” you ask. he seems almost surprised you decided to continue to talk to him and he looks behind him then back to you in rapid succession. “oh. yeah. just for, for a few.” he replied. you nod back, and jump at this newfound opportunity. “how far is it?” “huh? oh, like, a ten minute drive.” carmy responds, taking out a rung of car keys from his left pocket. perfect. you think. “do you think—” you begin, on the path to ask him for a ride, maybe you’d break the awkward silence between you two and you’d be friends. but it never happened on account of sydney walking back into the office, changed into her large trench coat and grins at you as she calls your name. “you ready? we’ll take the subway,” she nods to the door, and waits as if you were to follow. you sigh internally. oh well. maybe he’d drink enough and they’d loosen up and you could ask him if his name was really carmy and why the hell he was so mad earlier. you side step carmy with a muttered, “excuse me”, and follow sydney out the back and around the corner and to the subway. —

the bar is quaint, some local pub with local teams and references plastered from wooden mahogany wall to wooden mahogany wall. it smells strongly of beer and grease, so thickly it lays gently on your tongue and makes you immensely hungry.

sydney walks to a table in the far right corner. a tall man and very short woman sit side by side, joking as the woman grins widely. a pudgy guy with a braid sits beside— great. richie is here too, you realize with sullen realization and swallow the sour bile in your throat. he just radiated a terribly immature aura. the other side of the table were four seats, the two on the right side filled by another tall man in a beanie and beside him sat carmy. you wonder in passing how he got here so fast. “sydney! you’re late,” richie booms, beer glass in his hand. the image is crude and you cringe by the slightest. sydney scoffs playfully, rolling her eyes. “shut the fuck up richie,” she retorts. you sit on the side next to carmy and sydney takes your right. he raises his hands in mock surrender, and passes two untouched beer glasses to you and sydney, you take it slowly. you hadn’t drank since— well, since you realized why lucas acted the way he did. so you held the beer glass between you hands on the table and watched the witty banter of the staff members unfold, so natural and so familial it felt warm and fuzzy— for lack of a better, less cheesy term— in the deepest parts of your heart.

but it was broken, momentarily, by carmy standing up in a bit of an abrupt manner and muttering something along the lines of “smoke break,” and you watch him leave with some sadness. he hadn’t talked much, during the whole show, whenever he did it was a sideish chuckle or a shut the fuck up to richie. a lot of people were saying that, you realized. the break let everyone take a hearty swig from their glasses, and the silence brought the attention to you. tina— the short woman with an underlying spanish accent— asked you where you were from. “california,” you replied. “it fucking sucks out here,” you joke, and feel a sense of social accomplishment when the staff laughed alongside you. it grants you that moment of courage for you to take a sip of ‘liquid courage’. you hadn’t drank in so long. you were never a heavyweight, but the long gap between your last taste of spirit let the alcohol in the drink go immediately to your head and opened the metaphorical floodgates of your surprisingly dirty mouth and quick whips that were always the highlight of your college party experience.

“so why’d you move out here, then, sweetheart?” [“you can’t just call people sweetheart, richie,” sydney scolded almost subconsciously, but was brushed off by richie with a wave.] you held the beer glass in both your hands, a brow lifting with the side of your mouth in a half-disgusted-half-scorned look. “um. california’s too fucking expensive?” you offer in a ploy to change the subject but he shakes his head as he follows through with his question, staring at you. “don’t believe that.” he retorted almost immediately in between a swig of beer. you glared at him. “okay, fucko. i needed a new job.” “and what are you?” “... a preschool teacher.” “not with that mouth!” ebra interjected with gibelike laughter, the other members of the beef chiming in. you had to admit, that was true. you’d always had a bit of a sailors tongue, something your fellow teachers berated you on during your days as a TA.

“okay, okay, yeah, i have a filthy fucking mouth, but i’m still a preschool teacher.” you shrug, taking a sip with a snarky smile. “okay, but preschool teacher pay is worse in illinois.” richie pressed you. he knew there was something, you knew he wanted it out of you, like the nosy fuckin’ bitch he was. “okay, but—” “come on, what is it really?” he interrupted you with a plaguey tone of voice that made your stomach curdle and your mouth twist in an annoyed grimace. “you fuck the wrong principal? buy the wrong drugs? bad fuckin’ boyfriend?” when your grip on the glass tightens, the beer sloshing the sides at the miniscule impact, richie knows he’s won. and like the loud mouth he is, he makes it known. “oh HO, so that’s your fucking pandora’s box. come on, what kind of asshole was he? the tight assed asshole? the—”

he doesn’t get a chance to finish because you slam your beer glass down onto the honey-washed wooden table and it spills, getting your hand and the sleeve of your puffer damp. you glare daggers into richie, the familiar javelin of rage fitting in your chest almost familiarly. “do you fucking mind? ever hear of privacy, you washed up gossip whore?” you damn near snarl, shoving the chair back as you stand and cock your head to one side. the bar had quieted; curious, nosy bystanders had taken an interest in the sudden spike of aggression and noise that radiated from you. sydney gingerly tried to lay a hand on your arm, but you pulled away from her as the pressure fell on your bicep. you didn’t mean to snap at her, but as of that moment, you’d snap at anyone. you felt cornered, like a wild animal being poked through the bars of a cage by jeering children. the teeth in your jaw ground together, and you pushed the chair back further with your legs to untangle yourself from the situation, taking long, deliberate strides to the back door, the one carmy had gone through. shoving through the heavy metal door, it didn’t take you long to find carmy. he stood a few paces away from the door, under a flickering street lamp that flirted with various winged insects. it splayed over him, illuminating the chef in harsh yet complementary light.

he looks almost surprised you’re there, a cig pursed in his lips, the case in one hand with the lighter in the other. “uh. hey,” he nods to you. was it routine for these awkward silences to find a home between you two? you nod back, the flush in your cheeks hopefully falling out. then you nod to the cigarette case in his hands. “enough to share?”

–

you two stand; around a foot or two apart, cigarettes in your mouths. one looked up and the other looked down. the sky was shittily pretty, you noted. city pollution obstructed the sight of any stars, but the neon glows of various billboards and street signs rose into the air and tinged the edges of the purple-black canvas.

you exhaled heavily, the smoke burning your nostrils on the way out. it’d been, what— two, three months?— since you’d “quit” smoking. it didn’t fit with the whole preschool teacher-esque you needed. but tonight was just getting worse and worse and you wanted to go bash your head against the brick alleyway until god herself would come down and take you away. “richie?” he speaks, and it startles you. the cig nearly falls from your mouth, but you take it away between your index and middle finger. you look back at him, blinking then nodding slowly. he nods back in acknowledgement. “what uh– what he’d do now?” “other than be a big fucking nosy bitch, nothing, really.” you reply, taking a long drag on the cigarette, the spike in your ribs chipping away with each wash of nicotine.

carmy makes an o with his mouth and nods again. he looked like a bird, you realized. but not in a bad way, or anything. like a flighty falcon, the kind you saw on those nature rehabilitation shows on animal planet. you just needed to hold them the right way, maybe say the right cooing words. maybe find something in common if you did that right. you give a slight look to him from the side. the cigarette was cushioned in his lips, and while they weren't very large, from here alone you could tell they were plush pink and soft, from curve it held around the butt of the cig.

“why’d you come out then?” he asks another question, snapping you out of your creepy lip-admiration. the fact that he was asking you more questions made you think this was either progression or unsettling, but it was hard to decide. you shrug in response, however. “i was hungry, actually. burned my mac and cheese.” there was another few moments of silence, filled only with the city life of chicago and your noisy exhale, blue gray smoke tendrils curling in the air.

“i could make you somethin’.” he offers, his voice nonchalant and passive, even though his big fuckin’ eyes stared at you like he was some lost puppy.

it was kind of endearing, actually. no one had ever cooked for you. why'd it make your chest tighten pleasingly?

you laugh. “sure. one day, when you can, neighborly favor of sorts if you’re into that.” you jest, unaware he was being serious. you take another lung filling puff of the cigarette, nicotine thick in your senses. “chicago cigarettes are strong,” you remark.

he nods. “like em’ better than the new york ones.”

you raise your brows in acknowledgement. he swallows some air, not for the cigarette, you realize as he begins to speak.

“i was, uh, being serious, by the way. i fucking hate mac and cheese.”

you grin, looking over at him, the dim glow of the cigarette hanging from your lip. “me too.”

...

for more / updates go check out my ao3 !

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viridianv0id · 2 months

Text

Alright.... guys

It's time

SEBASTIAN DESIGN AND LORE DUMP !!!!

Both a glowing and normal version

Now, lore dump will be under the cut!

Here is the base of Sebastian, nakey ;p

Now, those notes don't help much so heres the dump !!!!!!

1 Angler lure

his lure is a bit basic, no obvious species of angler is shown but more towards the end the colouration gets darker - something used to help camoflage the light when in the dark, made of a very soft cartilage which makes it very flexible

2 tongue

due to a bit of malformation on his face from the testing, he was given a forked tongue to help give him a better sense of smell esp while under water

3 Gills

there are two sets of gills on sebi on his neck and on his sides

3.1 neck gills

the gills on his neck aren't actually taking in any water, theyre used to filter the water and from the oxygen that he takes in from his mouth so water dosent get into his lungs

3.2 sidegills

his side gills do a LOT of the heavy lifting while hes under water, his top set of gills (black) Filters in water, keeping any particulates and other nasty junk out of his gills. While his bottom sets (blue) filter out water after the oxygen has been taken out

3.3

his lungs are still mostly human in nature, though now frills and other elements have been added to give aid to filtering water and oxygen, but also to protect what of his human lungs are left from getting filled with water and other fluids

4 lateral line

The lateral line on Sebastian spans his entire body, starting at his nose, going under his eyes, and down both sides of his body right down to the tip of his tail. Due to how deep the hadal blacksite is, being able to easily detect pressure (ha) changes and movements of others around him in places where it's dark or unsafe to use his lure.

4.1 electroreceptors

Like many fish, and especially for sharks, Sebastian has clusters of electroreceptors along his lateral line, localised to his face specifically. This gives him the ability to sense electrical stimuli, which makes it so Sebastian can sense electrical changes in others around him, giving him a high advantage over most people and creatures.

5 Scars

Sebastian has quite a few scars over his body, mostly localised to his top half as that's where his important internal organs are

Most scars hes got came from each operation that turned him into the leviathan we know him as today but he does also have quite a few after breaking containment and freeing the other Z-class entities from their own containment, fights with MTF from UrbanShade and a few self inflicted scars. (The main one being the scar on his face, as the one he had while human had seemed to vanish, and too feel like himself even a little bit he put it back)

6 Arms/Strength

With the addition of a manits shrip into his DNA his overall strength was increased greatly, his arms becoming much stronger than before - yes, his punches would hurt like hell, with his size and strength you'd be lucky to be more than a puddle of blood after one of his blows.

6.1 third arm

His third arm, smaller than his main set is actually quite weak, while not useless it's more of a supportive limb than anything, not that he likes having it anyway.

7 colouration

Sebastian's new skin tone and colouration takes on the Sam traits that a lot of fish have, darker on hid back and lighter on his stomach. His skin, especially on his lower half, has become slightly rougher in texture, being more akin to shark skin than any scaled fish, only having scales in certain places on his body (see point 9).

8 Fins

Sebastian has quite a few different kinds of fins along his body

8.1 'pectoral' fins

Just under where his human pelvis would be has two shark fins, very similar to pectoral fins, and greatly aid him in his movement underwater and a little bit with keeping himself steady and upright while on land. These are pretty rigid and Don't flex much

8.2 ventral fins

Very similar use to the pectoral fins, though they're quite useless on land.

8.3 dorsal fin (not shown in image)

Sebastian does have a dorsal fin, though it's more fish like as it spans from his shoulders, down his spine and tail, this fin helping with gliding through the water, mostly I'm smaller movements and even keeping himself still while not actively swimming.

8.4 ear fins

The fins on his head that replaced his ears have pretty much the same purpose as normal ears, though they're more sensitive and help his hearing underwater, giving him the ability to hear frequencies that humans cannot hear underwater.

9 Scales

While Sebastian mostly has a rougher sharks skin, he does have some scales. The most noticeable being his underbelly scales, something from the sea snake DNA that helps him travel more easily on land! These scales are smoother than the rest of his body so Sebastian is able to pretty much slither around

10 bioluminescenes

As many deep sea animals have bioluminesence, so does Sebastian, while only localised in certain areas. He has several lines of biolumenesence, especially down his lateral line across his face and body, as well as having some spots along his arms and collar bones.

11 Size / Whale fin

Okay, final point !!

An obvious thing about Sebastian is his sheer size, being that he's quite large and VERY long

These two factors come from the whale and sea snake in his DNA, whis also leads to his tail fin, being flat and whale-like instead of something more akin to the amount of fish in him, which this fact means Sebastian has remained warm blooded and a mammal. Do with that information as you will.

#sebastian pressure #sebastian solace #pressure #pressure roblox #pressure game #this has taken me so long....#two hours alone to write the info #about...#three days od drawing #please don't let this flop #Mobile formatting funked the post #Fixed it

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telleroftime · 1 year

Text

Bloom ||| Bowser x Reader

You're on a walk with Bowser in the woods of the Mushroom Kingdom when you end up falling down into a bunch of flowers.

———————————————

Pairing: Bowser x Gender Neutral ! Reader

Relationship: Romantic

Tone: Fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Bowser Masterlist

A/N: Someone complimented my writing and that inflated my ego so it's time for more Bowser fics.

———————————————

You didn’t know how you managed to convince Bowser to allow you to tag along on one of his expeditions into what was pretty much enemy territory, nor how you managed to convince the mighty King of the Koopas to go on a walk with you through the forests south of the camp, but you wore a bright and proud smile as you wandered down the worn, muddy path.

You've been to the Mushroom Kingdom before in passing, representing the koopas in any political squabble the royals decided to partake in, but you never took the time to actually see or experience it. You heard plenty of gossip from the castle staff. They always described the beautiful nature of the land. The flora that grew thick in the forests. The streams of water that rushed faster than lava could ever hope to achieve. Not only that, but you managed to eavesdrop on some scouts' talk, whispering about an opening somewhere within the woods. It was a clearing you wanted to see with your own eyes.

And now, as you walked ahead of your lover, the landscape was greener and more lush than you were used to.

Vivid grass sprouted from every corner, peaking between berry-clad bushes and tall, brown trees, fighting over the crust of the earth. Dots of red and blue and green mushrooms were scattered across the distance of the forest. Some formed tiny visible circles, no doubt highlighting the spread of mycelium below. In some places the mushrooms grew larger, competing with the size of the trees. Those reminded you of the decorated plazas of Toad Town, where the citizens of the Mushroom Kingdom showed off the largest growths like trophies.

You also wanted to argue that it was warmer than in the area surrounding the Dark Lands. Sunlight was bright on your skin as it filtered through the leafy canopy, heat seeping through the fabric of your royal clothes like the warmth of hot sand. It was smooth and felt like nothing less of a loving hug. It was a pleasant change to the lava's heat of the molten land you were used to, and it was different to the flicker of firelight that lit the pylons leading up to Bowser's Castle. The wind was fresh, not humid at all, and the air was breathable and ash-free.

You'd say that the moment rivalled the safety of the gold-lined walls of his kingdom.

Humming to yourself, your attention turned back to Bowser when you heard him release a low grunt. You had to cover your face to hold back your chuckle.

He was swatting his large paws at two bright blue butterflies. They dodged him with ease, though each swipe of his claws caused them to be pushed into disarray. They tumbled in the air, flapping their tiny wings wildly, before they returned to their assault. When one butterfly was pushed away, the other took its place in the fight. Whenever that one was hit, the previous came back, all the while Bowser grunted and growled in annoyance. It was almost like they were teasing the large koopa who was struggling against them and, against your better judgement, you let out a snort.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get to bask in the moment for too long as the ground below your feet turned into a pillow of soft mush, causing your leg to roll and shoot a sharp pain through you and causing you to lose your balance.

In the moment that followed, you saw Bowser’s boiled gaze soften as it turned to you then widen with horror. His body bounded towards you, a sudden disregard to the butterflies, however his paws didn't quite reach you.

You tumbled down the mossy growth, rolling and falling and bouncing off the soft hill. Your eyes were tightly closed shut, your hands around your head until you let out a final oof. Your body's motion came to a stop right in the middle of rustling blooms.

You were dizzy as you unravelled yourself, a dull ache all around your body. You could taste grass on your tongue. You could feel the dirt and moss push against the palm of your hand. You could smell a variety of scents, but for a moment the most prominent one was mud.

Breathing in and slowly breathing out, shaking yourself out of your spinning head, you opened your eyes and looked around. A smile grew on your face.

You were surrounded by flowers. Hundreds of them at least.

It was the clearing.

They were growing in the pocket of light that you were lying in, white and yellow petals with golden centres staring you down as if they themselves came alive in the moment. They swayed gently in the warm breeze, performing their little enticing dance that called forth multiple insects. Bees were humming their sweet melodies and promises of honey, orange and pink butterflies were hovering like colourful fairies. None dared to entertain you.

Sitting there, your clothes spoiled with patches of green pigments, you were surprised that you didn’t sneeze. Your body wasn't used to the flora after living so long in the Dark Lands, and yet you felt not even a smidge of irritation. You didn’t want to sneeze. You didn't want to cough. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe it was the truth the rays of light revealed as they filtered through the large gaps in the canopy. There was little to no pollen in the air. There was no dust and no seeds. The air was completely clear.

Knocked out of your thoughts, you felt the ground shake beneath you and heard Bowser roar your name. He thudded next to you, crunching the flowers under his body, large hands cupping your significantly smaller head with such delicate tenderness that even you thought you'd break at his touch.

"Are ya hurt?" He said, a growl masked through his concern, "tell me where it hurts."

You let him squish your face for a little while, nodding in his hands every time he growled and huffed in worry. His red eyes never left your body as he scanned over you. From your face to your arms to your chest to your legs. He checked you at least three times, and after he was done, he sat back with a loud thump, his hands dropping to the sides, grumbling under his breath.

A grumbling that stopped when you blindly picked a flower, leaned up as best as you could and put it between his horn and his flame-like hair.

"White suits you," you complimented, toying with a stray strand of red that fell from the rest of the heap.

You looked into his eyes only for him to huff in return, moving his head to look away.

Your smile widened.

There was a moment of comfortable silence that passed between the two of you as you sat amongst the blooms, your hand caressing the side of his snout. You heard the buzz of pollinators, seeing a few fly close with curiosity from the corner of your eye. You could hear the birds squawk melodiously in the trees above you. A tweet here and a tweet there in tune with the rustling leaves.

Most importantly, you could hear Bowser breathing.

In and out.

Only to pause when you leaned into his chest, your hand dropping to your lap. Now you could also hear his heart hammer in his chest. You could feel it strum and you could feel him swallow as he wrapped his large arms around you, mindful of the rough scales and the metal bracelets around his wrists. You sat like that for a moment longer.

"I'll be honest," you started, looking up at him from the safety he provided, cupping his snout in your hands again as your back rested against his chest, "I rolled my ankle when I fell. You'll have to carry me back."

You smiled, your brows furrowing before relaxing when you heard him muster a laugh. It was like a roar, though you felt the strain behind it. He didn’t want to be too loud with how close you were to him.

"How 'bout we continue with our walk?"

You felt his snout morph with his grin, Bowser being as emotived as ever. His arms moved, twitching with light anticipation, and you leaned to the side to place a soft kiss on his bicep. "Only if it's no trouble."

"If it's my consort then it's ne'er any trouble."

His arms moved then, effortlessly lifting you from the ground as he stood up. Patting himself off the flowers that stuck to his scales, he adjusted you in his grip. Carefully, he made sure you were comfortable and secure in the crook of his large arm, nuzzling into you before he trooped forward with a wide grin.

The butterflies from before had returned, fluttering around the two of you.

———————————————

Bowser Masterlist

#bowser #bowser x reader #bowser x y/n #bowser fanfic #super mario bowser #bowser fanfiction #mario bros #bowser super mario #super mario #super mario x reader #bowser headcanons #king bowser

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valkyriexo · 3 months

Text

Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 7 -Truth or Dare

ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.

ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids

ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery

ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ;Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS : dirty talk, swearing, use of ' 'whore', 'Good girl' , 'Slut', unprotected P in V, teasing, fingering , oral ( f. receiving), begging, edging, Aftercare, Smut. SMUTTTY SMUT, minors do NOT interact. Smut is in between the -- if you wish to skip.

EPISODE WORD COUNT; 5.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ; 1 more episodes left! Who's your guess?

If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me. Remember, none of this is real. It is a story. It is fiction. You can choose not to read it if it will make you uncomfortable.

Master Post | Teaser | Suspect Cards

The night had been restless, filled with uneasy dreams and fragmented thoughts. You woke with a start, the early morning light filtering through the curtains. Sitting up slowly, you rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep as you considered your options.

Chan was gone, that much was true. The dorm room felt emptier without his presence, the air tinged with the echoes of your heated argument from the night before. Staying here alone felt daunting, but the idea of returning home filled you with a different kind of dread.

Glancing at your phone, half-expecting a message from him, there was nothing. The silence between you was loud, laden with unresolved emotions. Sighing softly, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

The dorm was quiet, the usual sounds of morning routines absent. It was as if time had slowed down, allowing the weight of recent events to settle in.

Deciding to freshen up, you made your way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face. The coolness was refreshing, a brief respite from the turmoil swirling inside you. Staring at your reflection, you wondered how everything had spiraled so quickly. The award, the mysterious gifts, the confessions, and the loss—all seemed like an overwhelming blur.

All the events were reminders that trust was a luxury you couldn't afford right now.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, you decided to head out, feeling slightly more composed. Standing in the doorway, hesitating before locking up, your phone buzzed softly in your hand. It was a message from Aera, your assistant, whose concern warmed your heart amidst the chaos.

"Hey, how are you doing? Do you need anything done today?" Her message read.

You smiled faintly at her concern, typing out a quick reply. "I'm okay. I will let you know if anything comes up."

Leaving the dorm behind, you stepped out into the crisp morning air, the city awakening around you. People hurried past, lost in their own worlds, unaware of the turmoil churning inside you. You walked aimlessly for a while, seeking solace in the familiar streets of Seoul.

Seungmin remained in the hospital, his condition stable but unconscious.

As you walked through the bustling streets of Seoul, you found yourself drawn towards the hospital where he lay, a silent figure in a sterile room.

Arriving at the hospital, you navigated the familiar halls with a heavy heart. Nurses bustled about, doctors exchanged quiet words, and families sat in waiting rooms, their faces etched with concern. The atmosphere was one of subdued tension, a stark contrast to the vibrant city outside.

Finding Seungmin's room, you paused at the doorway, hesitating before stepping inside. His pale form lay still on the hospital bed, machines softly beeping in the background. The sight of him like this, so vulnerable and fragile, brought a lump to your throat.

Pulling up a chair beside his bed, you took his hand gently in yours. It felt warm, reassuring in its familiarity. Memories of happier times flooded your mind – his infectious laughter, his unwavering support during difficult moments, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"You're going to be okay," you whispered softly, more to reassure yourself than anything else.

As hours passed in the hospital room, you remained by Seungmin's side, lost in your thoughts. Aera's messages occasionally buzzed in your pocket, but you couldn't bring yourself to reply just yet.

The hospital had become a refuge of sorts, a place where time seemed suspended, allowing you to confront the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Lost in your contemplation, a familiar voice broke through the quiet. Minho, stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and reassurance.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping inside. "How are you holding up?"

You looked up, grateful for his presence but feeling a wave of awkwardness wash over you. Minho had always been a good friend, someone you could rely on, but the recent events had left everything feeling strained and uncertain.

"I... I don't know," you admitted quietly, your gaze drifting back to Seungmin. "It's just... a lot."

Minho nodded understandingly, pulling up a chair beside you. His usually easygoing demeanor seemed tempered with a sense of solemnity, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

"Seungmin's doing okay. The doctors say he could be out soon," Minho offered, trying to provide some comfort.

"That's good to hear," you replied with a breath of relief, grateful for the positive update on Seungmin's condition.

After a moment of silence, Minho spoke again, his voice soft and hesitant. "I... heard about what happened between you and Chan."

Your breath caught in your throat, surprised. "You did?"

He nodded, briefly glancing at you before returning his gaze to Seungmin. "Yeah. He came to the hospital late last night. Looked like he hadn't slept."

Guilt washed over you, not knowing that your argument with Chan had affected him deeply. "I didn't mean for things to get so... heated."

Minho sighed softly, his expression sympathetic. "Chan... he cares about you a lot. Sometimes that passion can come out in ways that surprise us."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I know. I just... I didn't handle it well."

"He'll come around," Minho reassured, his voice gentle. "Give him some time."

"I hope so.."

Minho nodded understandingly, standing up and stretching slightly after hours spent in the hospital room.

"We've been here a while," he said, glancing back at you. "Changbin will be here soon to replace me. I can take you home, if you're ready."

"Yeah," you replied gratefully, giving Seungmin a final glance. "I think I'm ready."

Minho nodded, standing up and stretching slightly. "Let me grab a few things, and we can head out."

As you both gathered your things and prepared to leave, Minho glanced back at Seungmin, his expression softening with empathy.

Together, you walked through the quiet halls of the hospital. The city seemed to hold its breath, the usual chaos muted.

As he drove you home, the atmosphere inside the car was tinged with a somber calm. The streetlights flickered past, casting fleeting shadows across his face as he focused on the road ahead. The silence between you was companionable, yet heavy.

As the silence lingered, your thoughts drifted to the unease of returning home alone. The recent events had left you feeling vulnerable, the safety of your own space compromised. The idea of installing security cameras had crossed your mind more than once, a desperate attempt to regain a sense of control.

Chan had taken the initiative to install security cameras for you the day he found out, a gesture that had should have eased the anxiety of being alone at home. His thoughtful act had provided a layer of reassurance during times when the presence of 'Stay' seemed to infiltrate even your most private moments.

"You sure you're going to be okay here on your own?" Minho asked softly, his voice filled the quiet space.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I have security cameras installed."

he glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly. "Cameras?"

"Yeah," you continued, feeling a bit self-conscious. "With everything that's been happening... I just... I don't feel safe anymore."

He nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his expression. "I get that. But wouldn't that be a bit... paranoid?"

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. "Maybe. But... I don't know what else to do."

Lee Know sighed, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "It's your call. Just... be careful not to let fear consume you."

You nodded, grateful for his honesty, even if it wasn't the encouragement you had hoped for. "I'll think about it."

As you arrived at your house, he pulled up to the curb, the engine humming softly. You hesitated before stepping out, silently thanking him before making your way into your house.

The days had passed in a haze of tension and uncertainty since your argument with Chan. Despite the passage of time, his absence weighed heavily on your heart, the echoes of his words and your own lingering in the quiet corners of your mind. Each day felt like a struggle to maintain normalcy, the absence of his presence a constant reminder of the rift between you.

Each night, you find yourself waking with a start, heart racing from nightmares that seem all too real. Normally, Chan would be there to comfort you, to reassure you that you're safe. But now, with him gone and no word of his whereabouts, you feel different.

Alone.

The days blur together, filled with a mix of worry for Seungmin, guilt over Chan, and the unsettling presence of 'Stay' lingering in the background. You've tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, focusing on work and keeping up appearances, but the fear of being watched, of something lurking just out of sight, is ever-present.

One evening, as you sat alone in your living room, the soft glow of the security monitors casting flickering shadows on the walls, there came a hesitant knock at your door. Startled, you glanced at the clock

—late enough that unexpected visitors were unusual.

With cautious steps, you approached the door, heart racing with apprehension.

Opening it cautiously, you were met with Chan's familiar figure standing on your doorstep. His expression was a mix of apprehension, exhaustion, and remorse, his usual confidence replaced by vulnerability.

You stood there for a moment, stunned into silence as you processed the sight of Chan standing before you.

"Chan," you breathed, the name escaping your lips in a mix of relief and disbelief.

"Can we talk?" he asked quietly. You hesitated, unsure whether to let him in, but something in his eyes—perhaps a glimpse of the hurt you knew mirrored your own—changed your mind. Nodding silently, you stepped aside, allowing him to enter.

Chan stood awkwardly in the center of the room. You waited, arms folded defensively across your chest, unsure of what to expect.

"I'm sorry," he finally began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have left like that."

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of his words. "I don't blame you. But... I invaded Hyunjin's privacy."

Chan looked at you, his expression softening with understanding. "But you had your reasons. You felt unsafe. I can't be mad at you for that."

You nodded slowly, grateful for his understanding yet still grappling with the guilt of crossing that line. "I know, but it wasn't right."

"I know," Chan replied gently. "We all make mistakes, especially when we're scared."

"but I... I shouldn't have said those what I said to you." he continued. " I was... I was scared. Scared of losing you."

His admission took you aback, the raw honesty in his words catching you off guard. Despite your own hurt, you couldn't deny the sincerity in his voice.

"I was upset," you confessed softly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "When you left... it felt like you were abandoning me when I needed you the most."

Chan's expression softened further, regret shadowing his features. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the words heavy with remorse. "I never meant to make you feel that way."

You sighed, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air between you. "I know you didn't... but it still hurt."

"I never meant to hurt you," he continued, his gaze pleading. "I just... I let my emotions get the better of me. And I know that's no excuse."

You watched him carefully, the walls around your heart beginning to soften in the face of his vulnerability. His apology was genuine, his regret palpable in the air between you.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "But I want you to know... I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. I'll give you space if you need it. I'll... I'll grovel if that's what it takes. I want to be here for you, no matter what."

He took a deep breath. "Can we... move past this?" he asked hesitantly, searching your eyes for reassurance.

You searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity and determination etched in every line of his face. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words and the weight of your own conflicting feelings. The road ahead seemed daunting, filled with uncertainties and the scars of recent wounds. But in Chan's earnest plea, you found a glimmer of possibility—a chance to rebuild what had been fractured.

"I want to," you admitted softly, your voice trembling with both fear and longing.

Chan's eyes softened with relief, his own hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a silent promise. The air around you seemed to shift, charged and electric as you leaned in, hesitantly closing the gap between your lips.

The kiss was tender, tentative at first, a gentle exploration of shared forgiveness and connection. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if afraid to let go. For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the both of you.

Chan's hands began to roam over your body, teasing and caressing you, pulling you even closer to him.

"God I love you so much." He said between kisses. You hands mad their wayt o his face, cupping his cheeks softly.

" Y/N.... I want you so bad," he growled.

"Then take me," you replied, your lips never leaving his. "I'm all yours."

Chan didn't need any further encouragement. He picked you up and carried you to your bed, kissing you all the way there as you straddled him, until he laid you down gently on the bed.

You removed your shirt and pants, laying before him in nothing but your cute red underwear, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Chan's eyes roamed over your body, a look of pure lust on his face. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "God im so lucky."

You reached out and took off his shirt, eager to feel his muscular body against yours. He kissed you harder, more intensely, as his kisses slowly made his way down your neck and chest.

His mouth found your nipple, and he began to suck and nibble on it. You moaned softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he teased and teased you with his tongue. As you writhed in pleasure, Chan's hand moved between your legs, his fingers gently rubbing your pussy through the fabric. You moaned louder, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Please, Chan," you begged, your voice ragged. "I need you."

Chan didn't reply. He simply smirked at you and began to remove your underwear, exposing your bare body to him.

"So wet.. And so pretty." he growled, his fingers sliding between your folds to find your clit. You cried out as he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles, his other hand gently massaging your breasts. You could feel your orgasm slowly building.

Chan's fingers were working their magic on you, and you were close to cumming. But you wanted more, you wanted to feel his hard cock inside you.

"Chan..." You whined," Please fuck me." You gripped his hair tighter.

"Hmm? What was that?" he said. His fingers going faster in you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Fuck... Please… please Chan," You cry out. "Fuck me.... please. I need you," you say, whining to his touch.

Chan chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent shivers down your spine. "What a whore… Look at you.. Whining for my cock. Are my fingers not enough for you?" He inserted another finger, the stretch becoming almost too much to bear.

"Fe-feel so good." You managed to say. You moaned as Chan pushed his fingers deeper into you, hitting your g spot.

"Oh-Oh my God, I'm so close, Chan.." You said, your voice a soft whisper. Your hips bucked against his hands.

"Not yet, baby. I want to taste you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire. "I want you to cum in my mouth instead."

His head found its way between your legs, his tongue finding your clit as his fingers plunged deeper and harder into your pussy.

You were close, so close, and Chan's tongue and fingers were bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He hummed against your clit as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair.

"Chan, please...I'm going to... "

Chan smiled, as he continued his actions. His tongue teased your tight hole as you reached your orgasm and your cum oozed out of you and down your thigh.

"Good girl," he purred, cleaning you up with his tounge. He pressed sweet, soft kisses to your clit and you whined.

Chan's lips trailed back up your body, kissing and nibbling their way to your mouth. He finally kissed your lips and you could taste yourself on his tounge. Your hands found their way to his clothed cock and you rubbed his hard member.

He quickly grabbed your hand to stop you. "Tsk.. Tsk ..Tsk..." he said. "This is about you. I want to make you feel good."

"No.." You said, trying to stroke him. "I want to make you feel good too."

Chan groaned and his hands went to his pants, unbuttoning and removing them, along with his boxers.

"You do make me feel good.." he said as his hands gripped your hips, lifting you and teasing his cock at your entrance. You took this opportinity to surprise him by flipping you both over, putting yourself on top.

You began to grind against him, mixing your cum with his pre cum.

"Oh?" he purred, his hands cupping your ass. "My baby wants to be on top?"

You leaned down and kissed him, as you slowly sank down onto his cock. You gasped, his length filling you completely.

"Fuck," he moaned, his eyes closing and his face contorting in pleasure.

You started moving up and down, your hips grinding into his as his cock slid in and out of you. Chan's hands roamed over your body, caressing and teasing you as you rode him.

You saw the bulge of his cock in your stomach with every bounce. "Mmm. That's it baby. That-Thats it. Good girl. Good Fucking girl." He said as you bounced faster and faster on his cock.

You began to clench around him, a tell tale sign of your coming orgasm. Groans leave his lips, dick throbbing deep inside you. Chan cursed lowly under his breath as he watched you look down at him.

You continue to grind your hips down against him, loving the look of desperation on his fucked out face as his leaking tip twitched in your warmth.

“Fuck” he said, feeling you clench more and more around him. "Fuckkkk. Fuck.. oh-" He said as he closed his eyes. Chan's hands remained on your hips, holding you as you moved.

Suddenly he presses his hands down on your waist forcing you to stop.

You whined from the sudden stop, on the edge of cumming. Chan was so thick. So big.

SO big.

Cockwarming him was almost painful. You wanted to keep moving, to keep feeling him hit your cervix over and over and over again.

"Get off" he said sharply. "Get-get… get off. Please" he whimpered. His hips bucked against you, contradicting what his words were saying. "Please.. I-I can't take it. I'm gonna cum if you dont- fuck.....If you dont get off i'll cum inside you."

"You don't wanna cum in me?" you purred, looking him straight in the eyes with a pout. He gulped and looked away, his breathing laboured.

"Tell me how bad you want to fill me up, Channie."

"Baby..please," he begged, his voice low and needy. "We have no protection and-"

"Cum inside Channie" you said, interrupting him. You slowly moved your hips, making sure he stayed deep inside you. And GOD did he feel good.

"Baby…Please," Chan said, his eyes pleading. "Please. You feel so good, and tight and warm and - arrgh.. If you keep going I won't be able to stop myself. "

He looked at you, his face filled with desperation. "You want me to cum inside you? Are- are you sure?"

"Please, Channie." You said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his lips and your hips moved a little faster. "I need you.." You begged him.

Chan moaned loudly and he pulled your hips onto his, his cock fully twitching inside you.

"Oka-Okay, baby." he said as he began to thruste up into you, harder than ever before, hitting your g-spot and cervix at the same time.

"Oh-oh-Ohhh.. oh my god" You said with every thrust.

"fuck, fuck, fuck." Chan cursed, his pace speeding up. "You're a slut you know that? wanting me to fill you up? Cum inside you huh? Such a fucking whore"

"yes! yes! YES!!" you scream, his dirty talk making you even more wet.

"You want it inside? Beg for it." He said, his voice strained.

"Channie..Please...I need your cum in me." you said, looking him straight in the eye.

Chan moaned loudly and his thrusts became erratic.

"Please" you whined, your walls clenching around him.

"Baby..Baby" he moaned, his hips snapping into yours.

Chan cursed again, his thrusts becoming erratic and wild, losing control.

"Chan.. I'm-I'm."

"I know baby. I can feel it. Cum with me." You came first, unable to fight it any longer. "That's it good girl.. good-mmh good fucking girl."

He followed quickly after, burying his cock inside you, his cum painting your walls..

"Fuuuucckkk" He whined. He kept pumping inside you, making sure you took every last drop. You collapsed on top of him, his cock still twitching inside you.

Chan's arms wrap around you, his hands caressing your back as you both try to catch your breath. Chan kissed the top of your head, his fingers gently running through your hair. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you more" you said, content.

Chan’s arms pulled you close against his chest. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, His breath slowing down. His hands moved slowly and soothingly up and down your back, each touch gentle and reassuring.

He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "I love you," he whispered again, his voice a soft murmur.

You sighed contentedly, feeling his fingers on your body. You both stayed like that for a while, the silence between you filled with unspoken words of comfort and love. Chan's hands continued their gentle caresses, tracing small, soothing circles on your back. His touch was tender, each movement conveying his care and affection.

Your legs tangled together under the covers, your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. He held you with a strength that was both protective and gentle, making you feel safe and cherished.

As you nuzzled closer, you felt his lips press a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Let me get you some water and a snack," he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his love enveloping you. "Thank you, baby."

He kissed your forehead again before carefully untangling himself from you. "I'll be right back," he assured you, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he got up and walked to the kitchen.

The quietness of the room was soothing, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to bask in the afterglow of the comforting moment you had just shared.

Suddenly, your phone dinged, breaking the tranquility. You furrowed your brow in confusion, reaching over to the bedside table to grab it. It was a notification from the new security cameras you had installed recently, informing you that there was someone at the door. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the alert. You weren’t expecting anyone.

Curiosity and a hint of anxiety swirled within you as you opened the app to check the live feed. The screen loaded, revealing the figure standing at your doorstep.

In the dim light, their silhouette seemed familiar. The person shifted slightly, adjusting their stance. You saw distinct features—strong jawline, and calm demeanor.

His profile was momentarily illuminated by a passing car’s headlights, casting a shadow across his face. He stood there, unaware of the camera, his expression unreadable in the ambient light. But as he shifted you could see his face.It was...

....Minho?

Your mind raced. Why was he here? What did he want?

You watched intently as Minho lingered for a moment, then bent down to place something on the doorstep. You tried to zoom in on your phone hoping to provide a clearer picture.

It was a gift box, or at least you thought from what you could make out.

Without ringing the doorbell or making any attempt to announce his presence, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night.

Confusion and curiosity mingled as you watched him leave. What could be in that box? Why didn't he want to speak to you directly? Why was he here at 2 am?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Chan's return with a glass of water and a plate of snacks, his face lighting up with a gentle smile as he approached. “Here you go,” he said, placing the items on the bedside table.

He noticed the change in your expression and the phone in your hand. “Is everything okay?”

You quickly composed yourself, hiding the unease. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you placed your phone face down on the table.

Chan handed you the glass of water. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”

You took the glass and sipped, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat. “Thanks, Channie.”

He sat down beside you, his eyes filled with concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, managing a smile. “Yes, just a little tired.”

He looked at you with a sleepy yet sincere smile. " Okay sweetheart." He said as he crawled into bed with you.

You nestled closer to Chan, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence. "I missed this," you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "Me too," he murmured. “I was thinking... how about we go on a date tomorrow? Just the two of us. We could use some time alone together.”

Your heart warmed at his suggestion, and you smiled back at him. “That sounds wonderful, Chan. Where do you want to go?”

" What about dinner? Just you and me, dressed up, enjoying a meal at that new French restaurant downtown."

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of an elegant evening together. "That sounds amazing, Chan. I'd love that."

He grinned, his fingers now gently caressing your cheek. "I thought you might." He pulled you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Chan wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. “Let’s get some rest yeah? We both need it.”

You leaned into him, grateful for his comforting presence.

In the quiet of the room, you let yourself relax fully for the first time in what felt like ages. His steady heartbeat beneath your ear was a steady rhythm that soothed your mind. You thought about tomorrow night's dinner, imagining the elegance of the French restaurant and the joy of sharing such an intimate moment with Chan.

A small smile played on your lips as you realized how much you trusted him, how much you leaned on him for support. Tonight, there were no nightmares, no fears—just the comfort of his presence, wrapping around you like a shield.

But as you settled back into the warmth of his embrace, your mind kept drifting back to the box at the door. You knew you would have to see what Minho left, but you decided to wait until Chan was asleep.

As the night wore on, you found yourself thinking more and more about the contents of the box, The image returning again and again to your mind. Finally, you decided to sneak out of bed, careful not to wake Chan. Quietly, you made your way back to the living room and to the front door.

The box sat on the floor in front of the door, its presence casting a silent, haunting aura. It was a simple but elegantly wrapped package, tied with a deep crimson ribbon.

The weight of its contents beckoned to you, stirring a mix of curiosity and apprehension within your heart. You picked up the box and brought it inside to the living room.

The lamplight cast shadows across the room, dancing around the edges of the box as you set it down on the coffee table. For a moment, you simply stood there, hands resting lightly on the lid, grappling with your thoughts.

You carefully untied the ribbon, setting it aside with deliberate care. The soft rustle of paper and the faint scent of memories stirred as you lifted the lid. Your eyes widened in surprise and awe at what lay nestled within its depths.

Resting on a bed of delicate tissue paper, you discovered a beautifully crafted dress made with a corset. The fabric was luxurious, and the design was intricate, a perfect blend of elegance and sophistication.

As you examined the corset, a sense of familiarity washed over you. You recognized the craftsmanship, but you couldn’t quite place where you had seen it before. The more you stared at it, the more confused you became.

Why would Minho drop this off?

Your mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle.

Why now? Why in this way?

You sat back, the dress draped across your lap, and took a deep breath. This wasn’t just a random gesture. There had to be a reason, something you were missing. The corset felt like a key to a memory just out of reach.

You knew you needed to get some answers, but it was very late into the night. You carefully folded the dress back into the box and returned it to its place. With a final glance at the mysterious gift, you headed back to bed.

On your way back, your phone buzzed again, breaking the silence of the night. The screen lit up with a message from an unknown number:

...What?

Could Minho be the stalker? The thought was almost too much to bear, given your complicated history with him.

Confusion swirled within you. You had been so convinced it was Hyunjin—the unsettling letters, the feeling of being watched, the inexplicable incidents that seemed to point in his direction.

Wait.

Wait. Wait.

The letters. You never opened them. You hid them and ran out so quickly that you completely forgot about them.

They were still in your jacket pocket, where you had left them. With Quick steps, you returned to the front door and reached into the pocket and retrieved the unopened envelopes.

Sitting back down on the couch, you carefully unfolded the first letter. The handwriting was elegant and precise. But instead of being addressed to you…

it was addressed to someone else?

Hyunjin had feelings for you? You knew that but that was a long time ago.. right? Why was STAY bringing it up now.? Unless.....

Unless the feelings never left like he told you they did.

You had believed that Hyunjin's feelings for you were a fleeting crush, something that he had supposedly gotten over quickly, according to what he had told you.

The letter realved that it wasnt just a crush.

Hyunjin was in love with you, and Chan didnt know.

As you re-examined the letters and their ominous contents, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. Each letter not only threatened to expose Hyunjin's feelings but also outlined specific actions STAY wanted him to take to keep his secret hidden. Among them were references to Hyunjin's sketches, songs he's written about you, paintings, and selca's together, indicating that STAY had been leveraging these to coerce him into compliance. This oviously meant that this wasn't Hyunjin's doing. Why would he write such threatening letters to himself?

The realization hit you like a weight. The cameras and sketches found at the scenes were likely part of Hyunjin's desperate attempts to appease STAY, to protect his secret at any cost.

You felt a surge of empathy for Hyunjin, realizing the depth of his predicament. He wasn't the stalker you had feared; he was a victim, like you, ensnared by STAY's cruel machinations.

More important than ever. you needed to figure out who STAY was and put an end to their manipulative games. Not only were they messing with you but now with the boys as well. Who knew which others had also recived letters?

You carefully gathered the letters and placed them into the box, and put the box in the closet away from view.

Quietly, you made your way back to bed, slipping under the covers next to Chan. His presence brought you a sense of security, a reminder that you weren't alone. As you closed your eyes, you knew that tomorrow would bring difficult conversations and revelations, but for now, you allowed yourself a moment of peace.

Ep.8 if the shoe fits..

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