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indecisivemuch · 8 months

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Lovesick & Lovelorn

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).

Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.

Word count: 3.3k

You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn.

Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.

At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.

Hence, the letters.

In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.

You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.

“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.

“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.

“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.

After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.

As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”

“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.

Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.

“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.

Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.

Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.

You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.

The box…where is the box?

You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.

“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.

“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”

Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.

“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.

“Listen, Luke—”

“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.

“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.

“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”

“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.

“Nope.”

“...So we’re ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.

“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”

“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.

“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.

“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.

You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.

“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.

However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.

You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.

You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading:

‘Dear Y/N,

This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.

You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer.

Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.

I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.

You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:

The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.

2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.

The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.

It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.

Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.

I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you.

In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it.

It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.

Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.

If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Luke Castellan’

Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.

“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.

“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.

Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.

“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.

“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.

“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.

“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips.

Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids.

You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.

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#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfiction #pjo fic #pjo #charlie bushnell #pjo imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo series #best friends to lovers #fluff

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imsilay · 1 year

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MANIA

obsessive love; very possessive and often jealous.

mdni NSFW! +18 cw: possessiveness, size k!nk, fem!reader, obsessive König, dominant König.

summary: König doesn’t wants you to leave him, even for a second. he finds excuses and makes it your problem so he could fuck you until you’re too sore to leave again.

i will post part 2 <3 (english isn’t my first language sorry for the mistakes) edit: posted! here

art cr: @kinky-thirsty-reader

He doesn’t like when you try to leave him…

After a long night, you were exhausted, your body sore from head to toe. You tried to sit up and leave the bed, but suddenly König's arm snaked around your waist and held you down. "Where do you think you're going, Prinzessin?" he whispered. "I need to shower." you mumbled as you put your hands on his forearms and tried to push him away, but it was a pathetic attempt. You were so powerless compared to him.

“So klein~” he cooed.

He chuckled at your struggles. "I don't think so, Schatz. You're staying here, in my bed, where you belong…" he purred, kissing the back of your neck and pulling you even closer, pressing your back against his chest. "König, stop the nonsense. Let go of me, i really need to shower." you protested— you wish you didn’t. His arms tightened around your midsection, reminding you that he could snap your spine effortlessly. "Are you talking back, Prinzessin? Did you forget you’re mine?" he whispered, his tone now edged with discontent. His grip was far from loving anymore. “Do i need to remind you?” he hissed, he would fuck you dumb until you understand that you’re his. His to use for his own satisfaction, his to kiss whenever he decided to do, his to touch wherever he wants. You were simply his.

When you realized you were in trouble, chills ran down your spine. You quickly apologized. "No, I was just... I don't like being sweaty. I'm sorry." Your apology made him loosen his grip a little. He placed a tender kiss on your neck. He turned you around as if you weighed nothing and pressed you against his chest.

“Hmm... let's see," his voice teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He sat up, leaning his back against the headboard and had you straddle him. He lowered his hands from your waist to your thighs and gently caressed them. You let out a groan of relief and wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the sensation of your lover's massage on your sore muscles. However, your relief was short-lived because he wasn't finished with you yet. "You tried to escape my bed. So you need to be punished, Hase." He squeezed your thighs until the pain in your sore muscles became almost unbearable.

You cried and whined but he shushed you softly, soothing you. “We’re not done, Liebling.” It was clear that his tone had changed again. The anger and firmness had given way to something more gentle, almost loving.

You slurred something for forgiveness and apologize nonstop. “Don't be sorry, Hase. I didn't like seeing you try to escape from me." he said with a hint of a pout. "But I think i can make a exception for you this time. What about you let me…" his rough hands slowly caressed your inner thighs making you shiver and gasp in anticipation. “use you as i please, then maybe i could let you rest.” he murmured as his hand found its way to your already wet panties. Your breath hitched and you squirmed on his lap as he teased your cunt through your panties until you’re soaked for him.

“You’re so easy to seduce, Schatz.” he chuckled lightly but his voice stained with pure lust. He lifted your chin up with his free hand to take a look at your lovely face. Your eyes red, your skin flush from all the crying and stimulation. It was all for him… right?

“Immer so empfindlich, wenn ich so mit dir spiele.” (Always so sensitive when I play with you like this.) he mumbled in German like he always did. You never understand what he said -mind foggy with lust and too focused to chase that sweet release.

He grinned with a proud expression and mumbled to himself. “Braves Mädchen.” he whispered before lifting his balaclava up just enough to capture your lips in a long passionate kiss.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked it <3

a/n: also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

#könig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader #konig smut #konig x y/n #i know it’s könig #könig x y/n #könig smut #obsessed könig #könig x reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #könig #silay

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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months

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do you believe me now? | 6

in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.

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this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe

The car ride is the worst of your life.

Neither of you speak.

And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything.

Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue.

Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again.

When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on.

For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away.

“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes.

“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted.

Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart.

But you never claimed to be strong.

Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.

“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”

Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands.

The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry.

For not loving you?

If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?

But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces.

As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied.

“I don’t understand you.”

The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears.

“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed.

“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”

“Explain what?”

You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding.

He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for.

“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”

A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath.

His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond.

“Love you back?”

You blink.

Your stomach drops.

For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself.

What a way to make an exit from your relationship.

Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something.

What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know.

“I didn’t…”

“You didn’t mean it.”

The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp.

“That’s not what I was—”

“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”

It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions.

“Spencer…”

It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable.

He swallows.

“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”

For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.

“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”

“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”

And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice.

“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”

You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her.

“Wait.”

He says your name.

And of course you pause.

You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle.

“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?”

You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again.

The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring.

“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”

You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about.

Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break.

“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”

Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly.

“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”

You blink.

And for some reason, begin sobbing.

Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in.

“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

You take a shuddering breath.

“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”

Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper.

You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty.

“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”

“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”

You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly.

“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”

His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel. Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this.

“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes. “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”

Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft.

“How could I not be so in love with you?”

Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold.

“Really?”

“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”

The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw.

When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat.

“Too honest?”

You shake your head as if in a fog.

“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”

He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone.

“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”

“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder.

“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”

There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up.

“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”

He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning.

“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”

You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him.

Spencer kisses you on the cheek.

“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”

As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is.

“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room.

“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on.

“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand.

“Ambience over everything, baby.”

His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other.

“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”

You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy.

Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.

He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this.

“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets.

“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”

He knows he hasn’t.

“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”

Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC.

“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”

“I missed you too,” you admit softly.

He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes.

Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck.

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs.

Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.

His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon.

And he’s laughing.

“What were you drinking?”

You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.

“Water.”

“Before that, baby. At the bar.”

You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall.

“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”

“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”

Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige.

Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all.

“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip.

“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face.

It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same.

“Love you.”

He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own.

“I love you.”

It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips.

A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately.

Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first.

“I’m sorry.”

You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology.

“For what?”

The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly.

“For what I said at the bar.”

Oh.

That.

It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth.

You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you.

At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth.

“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”

Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak.

“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”

“It is not. I made you cry.”

Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him.

“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”

You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back.

“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”

You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly.

“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too.

But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight.

“You know what you could do right now?”

The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would.

“What’s that?”

You smile slyly.

“You could kiss me again.”

“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”

“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours.

“I thought I was already forgiven.”

“Apologies can be retracted.”

“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”

Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel.

As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks.

Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee.

Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now.

But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy.

“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.

He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming.

“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”

Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him.

“Playing nice?”

“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”

Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his.

“According to who?”

His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?

“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”

You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart.

“What?”

“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”

You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall.

“I think I’m in a great place.”

At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet.

“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”

“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours.

“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”

Reluctantly you nod.

“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”

In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier.

“Hey.”

“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly.

“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”

That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would.

“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”

He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”

“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”

You turn back around, brows raised.

“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”

“Uh-huh. Come here.”

Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case.

But at the same time—everything’s different.

And you won’t make the same mistake twice.

“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face.

“Hey what?”

“I remembered what I was gonna say.”

The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Tell me.”

“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”

“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”

“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”

It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.

“You already knew everything.”

“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”

And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all.

“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top.

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled.

Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage.

Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.

Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you.

Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement.

The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself.

Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest.

“Jesus, you—”

But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs.

“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”

part seven

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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kenyummy · 5 months

Text

BEACH DAY — BLUE LOCK

SYNOPSIS: as a manager during the nel, a well-deserved rest was needed. what better way to rest than a fun day in the hot summer air, in a bikini, at the beach?

note: this was originally a special for 100k reads on my wattpad book found (which u should SO read btw #shamelesspromo) but to avoid confusion i edited out a lot of mentions of the manager characters who were included in this short! i really hope you all enjoy!

wc: 6.2k

TODAY

is a completely regular day of fun outings. Shidou had (in)formally organised a beach trip, something you decided would be a good idea. The NEL has been stressful on all of you, whether it be you and the other managers, the players, or even coaches—taking a good day off seemed to be a good idea.

So, you were heading to the beach.

The place where women can wear skimpy bikinis without being called promiscuous names (it would happen anyway—but in a perfect world everybody would mind their own business) and the place where strange men (some of those men may happen to be named Otoya and Aiku) would check out the local fauna dressed in said skimpy bikinis.

It was a fun day of splashing around in the waves, ignoring all problems present in your life, and unwinding in the grainy sand. You miss it. That is why, even though you're sure this will happen to end up in disaster, you agreed.

So, this is what got you in this predicament now—thirty minutes before you had to get there with a ten minute trip driving—that was all that was left for you to remember everything.

Swimming outfit. A change of clothes. Sandals that won't trap sand. What else...

You ponder as you stare down at your duffel bag, filled with everything you need. Money—food stalls at the beach were always ridiculously expensive for no apparent reason, Floaties—you never know when somebody might just need some abrupt saving. Towels—plenty of towels, A robe—you'll probably be a little chilly when you get out of the water.

Apart from the obvious essentials like hair ties, deodorant, sunscreen, keys and whatever other odd things you need whenever you go out—you think you're good to go.

You take a good look at your swimsuit. You haven't worn it in a while. A simple black two-piece with each front piece of fabric being held together with two silver rings—it's a little smaller than you would've liked, but you don't own any other kind, so you decide to just go with it.

You roll up your towel nicely and tuck it into your bag, then zip it up. You stare down at the fat duffel bag that is practically bursting at the seams. You are ready to take on the final boss—the beach.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

You stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, pulling at the tight elastic band of your bikini. It digs into your skin slightly. Hissing through your teeth—you decide it's nothing, and quickly make your way outside.

With your bag under your arm, you walk out and look around. Two of the other manager girls said they'd saved a spot underneath a bright purple umbrella. It takes little effort to spot it in all its neon glory.

They both sit atop a beach towel, with odd things like sunscreen, keys, and waterproof mascara all scattered around them. You wave a little before you sit down on a part of the towel, taking in the sight of the beautiful beach.

Children running around, adults chasing after them—some guy was even getting told off in the middle of the waves for losing his swim trunks. All in all, the beach was positively bursting with rich energy.

You missed this. You haven't felt this calm in a good while. Dealing with all those rowdy boys vying for your attention—it took a toll on you.

Too bad this peace would not last for too long.

Your phone dings. You pick it up and press on the notification—it's a snap from Shidou. You hesitantly click on the picture and it's a closeup of his left eye—but in the background, you can see the side of the building you had just changed inside, and a shirtless Otoya is trying to kick at somebody.

You don't even have the chance to properly react when a loud yell interrupts your thoughts. You snap your head towards the sound so fast your neck aches—the source was Rin on the floor while, even though a second ago a phone should've been in his hand, Shidou is jumping him.

A smart, sassy quip and loud groans erupts from both you and the other manager girls—you slap your phone down and squeeze your face in your hands.

Perhaps this is the start of doomsday, you think as the overly massive group starts making their way towards you and your blaring purple target of a neon umbrella.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

"[name]!!" Bachira crashes into you—with the way he knocks you both to the sandy ground, he should be playing rugby instead of soccer—and rubs his cheek against yours like a loving cat. "I'm so excited to see you again! You never come by our stratum!!"

He's flat on top of you and the stares you're receiving start to grow uncomfortable. You push back at his chest but he simply opts to sneak his arms around your shoulders, "Bachira...!! Let me... get up..."

It takes the brute force of Barou King Shoei to remove his figure from latching onto yours. With a twitching brow and eyes that could stab daggers into Bachira—a small laugh unintentionally escapes your lips when he talks, "You're all sandy, you disgusting bug. If you get all that sand on the towel, I'll seriously kill you."

Bachira is being held up by the scruff of his water suit like a cat. He dangles in the air and flings himself at Barou next—"Fight me, king!"

"YOU—!!!"

Ignoring the upcoming brawl on the ground, you step over the two and you find your way towards...

"Hello, Isagi."

Your voice seems to make him jump—his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of your face and he looks far too nervous to be speaking to you. "O—Oh... Hello, [name]...! It's good to see you again..."

He's trembling and making such intense eye contact that you wonder if he's okay. His fists are clenched hard beside his body and you think he might just about have a heart attack. "Are you... okay?"

He answers a little too quickly, "Yes! I'm fine, haha, why would you worry about me? I'm totally good! Best I've ever been! Why would you ask? I look okay, right? Well, I gotta go now! I'll see you later, [name]!"

He runs off like he's a high school girl who's just had her first conversation with her senior crush. I can't tell if he's insecure about how he looks or worried about being disrespectful to me.

Maybe it's a mix of both. Isagi is on the slimmer side, compared to guys like Barou. Even though I know he's not, he looks like he's on steroids.

And Isagi's always been worried about being disrespectful to you—worried about overstepping boundaries and making you uncomfortable—at least when he's in his usual, clear state of mind. There's no telling what he's thinking when he stares down at you late at night after a good game with that overconfident, egotistical smirk.

Anyways—he's rushed away by now, and you're just standing here looking all stupid. Oh well. At least you're not alone for too long, because your attention is quickly stolen away by a certain trio.

Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya all come up to you—only one bothers to wave or even smile (there's no surprise he's a model—he's seriously gorgeous, you note when glancing down at his torso).

"Hey." The sneaky ninja is not so sneaky anymore, because he doesn't even try and disguise the way he's staring at your chest. He gives you a thumbs up, to which you scowl, "Lookin' good."

"Get your eyes off my chest."

"Sicko." Karasu shakes his head with a disappointed expression. You deadpan.

"You too, stupid crow."

"Did your mothers not teach you respect?" Yukimiya clicks his tongue—eyes fluttering closed as he shakes his head. He soon turns his head towards you and he actually does make eye contact with you—a step above his two friends. "It's nice to see you, [name]. You look very nice. Ignore these two."

You promptly ignore the offended looks shot at the model—you opt to just stare, perhaps a little too dreamily (but you couldn't care less, really), and smile back, "It's nice to see you too, Yukki. Thank you, you look handsome today, too. I was planning on ignoring those two, anyways."

"Woah, that is seriously hurtful." Karasu places a hand over his bare chest where his heart would be. "Too bad I don't care."

You roll your eyes. "Of course you don't, stupid crow."

"Would you stop calling me that?"

"Would you stop staring at my boobs?"

He pauses. "Point taken."

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Having Nagi cling to you during your time at Blue Lock is pretty hard already. Believe it or not, he's 6'2, and believe it or not, having a grown 6'2 man hanging off your side makes it pretty hard to get around.

Having a shirtless, messy-haired Nagi plant himself right on top of you and having his face smushed against the top of your chest is a little worse.

You can feel a burning stare at the back of your head. You're not sure if the stare Reo is giving you is directed at you or the snow-haired boy. (Perhaps it is both and he's just conflicted—you would understand).

"Nagi..." You push back at his head and slowly intertwine your fingers in the white locks. They're softer than you imagined, but the ends are unmistakably dead. You should cut it for him later. "Go swim or something."

You are disappointed (yet, not the slightest bit surprised) when he promptly shakes his head no and proceeds to dig his nose even deeper into your exposed skin. His voice is slightly muffled, but still plausibly understandable, "Nuh-uh. Dun' wanna."

Your eyes twitch. Perhaps you have been spoiling him a little too much—so much so he refuses to leave you be.

"'Cause I didn't wanna go, but then mmmm... uh—Reo told me you were gonna come... and it wouldn't be too much of a hassle if you stayed with me. Hadn't seen you in so long. Missed you."

Right. You forgot he told you that before, too. Perhaps you had been a bit too doting on Nagi—he's clingy-er than you remember. Or perhaps it had been similar to that saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

A loud shriek (it sounds far too girly to have come out of Nagi's mouth, but go figure) alerts you and you see Nagi has been grabbed backwards into a headlock by Barou King Shoei. Perhaps he had turned away from the villainous side since your last meeting with him, because right now, he's saved you twice, like a hero.

Nagi doesn't even fight the King's death grip—he flops like a dead fish and it looks rather funny seeing it so closely. Nagi is taller, yet much lankier than Barou, who looks like a bodybuilder compared to the lazy snowhead.

"You're kicking sand all over the towel, Mr Hassleman." Barou snarls and jerks Nagi's head back. The boy doesn't react other than wearing his little :x face. "Go swim it off. Now."

Nagi does not make any visible effort to move. Barou still holds him like a ragdoll in his grip when he turns to look at you—you laugh a little and move your sunhat out of your eyes. "Hi, Barou. It's nice to see that you came. I didn't think you'd like the beach."

He looks a lot different with his hair down, you note. But in a good way. Fallen beneath his shoulders—you wonder why he does not wear it this way more often. He still holds his signature forever pissed-off expression, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I'm incapable of having fun?"

You pause, with a small grin. "Yeah, kinda."

He gives you a deadpan expression. "You're the same as always, you shit manager."

"I thought our relationship had progressed to the point we'd gotten past these mean names." You place a hand over your chest, a cheeky smile on your lips with a faux-hurt expression. You didn't usually joke around like this—it wasn't really your thing—but he was just far too easy of a target to tease. "I'm hurt, King."

He cocks a brow—you see Nagi trying to wriggle around now, and it's good to know he didn't actually die—"Seriously? Didn't think you were the type of person to care."

"Doesn't matter now. You're gonna swim, right?" With a nod of his head, you break away from his sharp stare and give him a small wave with a closed-eye smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Oh yeah—by the way, you look good with your hair down. You should do it more often. Anyways, see you later."

You do not catch the half-hearted wave Nagi sends you—which was just him flopping his arm up in the air—nor do you catch the look Barou throws over his shoulder at you, "... Not too bad yourself."

He says, but you do not catch it.

Nagi stares up at the man with a blank expression, "Who knew you were all sweet on our manager, huh, King?"

The King in question growls like an animal and tosses Nagi into the ocean like a ragdoll, "Shut the fuck up!"

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

"Beach volleyball?" Chigiri stares with confusion in his bright pink eyes as Kurona sits on Gagamaru's shoulders—setting up the tall net. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and his bangs fall over his eyes. "Are you serious?"

His head turns to yours when you shrug, "Why not? Beach volleyball is super fun. It's not like you guys can play soccer on the sand."

Chigiri pauses to think your words over for a second. You give him the most empty stare you can muster before you speak, "You really can't play soccer on the sand, Chigiri."

"Well, still. Are you gonna play?"

You shake your head and spare him a small smile. "No, I think I'll pass on this one. I'd like to see you play, though. You seem like you'd be really good at volleyball."

He gives you a pretty smile and shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't really planning to play either. I was honestly just thinking of sitting down with you and just relaxing."

"Oh, but I really would like to see you play. I bet you'd be better than anybody else out there, Hyoma." Not to be brass or anything, but you like to think you know a good amount about Chigiri—including how to get him to do what you'd like: Fan his ego. Or to put it in better words, praise him. "I think you'd look pretty cool."

You give him the nicest smile you can muster, and you're sure that's what seals the deal. He turns his head away from yours—yet you can practically sense the smirk he now holds—"Well, if you really think so, why not?"

You laugh a little as he walks onto the court, and each side with six players—even if in official beach volleyball, there were only two on each side, this was the most unofficial game you've ever really witnessed.

Otoya and Karasu are jumping on each other's shoulders in an effort to block the spikes—it only ends in the one on top tumbling to the ground and Yukimiya shaking his head in an I'm not mad, just disappointed motion.

Bachira is using his feet to play, kicking the ball up even when his hands were a completely more viable option—you think this is illegal, but who are you to judge—and Shidou is doing the same thing, except he... is hogging the ball. You aren't even sure how you hog the ball in volleyball, but he's managing it.

Rin is the one who manages to get it away from him but it only ends up in another tussle—something you do not bother to stop because one of the manager are already running toward them with a can of hairspray (which, if you were not previously aware, has the same effect as pepper spray if directed into the eyes).

You loll your head back and let out a heavy sigh. This beach day was going better than you had expected—still, your group by far had gained the most traction from how loud you all ended up being. You've gotten countless stink-eyes from old people, especially when Shidou yells out profanities in the vicinity of little children.

You wonder if the police may get called on you all. Maybe you should pretend you're not in their group as a last-ditch effort if it does end up happening.

You are broken out of your thoughts by a small, almost nervous greeting, "Um... hey, [name]."

You look to where the source of the sound came from—you get an eyeful of Isagi's bare torso before you see his face. He's looking off to the side awkwardly as if the mere action of looking at you would be purgatory, and he looks like he doesn't know what to do with his hands so he grips the end of his swimming shorts awkwardly. It's cute.

"Hi, Isagi." You smile. You shuffle over to create a little more room on the towel you are sitting on. You pat the free spot beside you and nudge your head towards him, "Come sit."

Obediently—you didn't expect him to move so fast—he sits beside you. He still looks stiff and nervous, so you ask him what's up. He responds, quickly but much quieter than his usual calm tone, "I was... um... ah, this is so stupid..."

He sucks in a deep breath of air and turns his back towards you. It's a little more built than you imagined. "I was... just gonna ask if you could put sunscreen on my back... I can't reach, and I trust you more than the... others."

You can practically feel the way his face burns up from how his voice cracks and grows more hushed with every word. To save him from the embarrassment, you decide to spare him from teasing words. "Sure. I don't mind. I'm glad you trust me, Isagi."

The words come out a little more sultry than you intended as you test the waters and place your fingertips on his bare shoulders. He shivers. You can feel it.

You spread the sunscreen all over his back—he places his face in his hands as you work your hands a little lower. When your fingertips brush against the waistband of his shorts he has to bite back a small groan. This was utterly humiliating for him—seriously, this was sad.

You're not completely oblivious to this fact, so in a menial act of pity for the poor guy, you try and finish up as quickly as possible—if only to save him from the embarrassment.

It feels far too intimate to be just a friendly gesture. He wonders if you feel that way too. You lightly rest your palms on his tense shoulders when you are done, sitting on your knees and leaning your face near his own, "Done."

He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat. He swallows thickly, blunt nails digging into his palms as he shuffles around so he faces you. The words that come out of his mouth are a little shakier than he would've liked, "T... Thanks... [name]."

The smile you have plastered on your face is nothing short of pretty, he thinks. "No problem. You can come to me if you need anything, okay?"

Why do you have to say things like that, [name]?

Isagi gives you a small nod, and practically forces a wavy smile onto his lips. "Yeah... You're really helpful, you know that?"

You laugh. "I know."

The mood between you two is calm and the strange tension from before has dissipated. You're smiling from ear to ear, about to say something—when Isagi's demeanour changes completely. You're not too sure why, but he seems to spot something behind you and his eyes completely shift.

Gone is the meek and shy boy, and in his place is a coy, smiling man. He places a hand on your upper arm—it makes you jolt and look at him in surprise. A second ago, he couldn't even look you in the eye, and now, he was shuffling closer towards you like it was the most natural thing ever.

"Anything, right?" He finally speaks, and he moves his hand up, away from your arm and it lightly traces underneath your jaw. He looks deeply into your eyes, but still keeps glancing behind you. "Can I do this?"

You do not get a chance to ask what this happens to be—although, it does not take a genius to figure it out, and you are no genius—or even spare him an answer before he grabs your hardcover novel and holds it up in front of where the two of your lips meet—covering your kiss from the other players that surround you all.

He doesn't dare take this further than a small kiss—yet, it wouldn't be considered a simple peck either. His hand holds the underside of your jaw lightly and tilts your head up so he can easily feel you and the back of the hard-cover book feels cool against your cheek.

You'd like to believe the reason your cheeks are on fire is from the blaring heat of the sun shining down on you—even though you are underneath the shade of that purple umbrella. His lips taste sweet, like a fruity drink. You think a stall nearby is serving something similar to that.

You can feel his smile against your lips, and he seems to be all too happy to have you like this. He tilts your face forward and your body has to follow—to the point you practically collapse into his lap. It feels much more intimate now that you can feel his bare skin against your own.

Isagi moves his hand down from your jaw down toward your waist, holding you taut against him and letting his fingertips rest in the dip of your back.

You finally end up moving backwards, and your sunhat almost falls off your head—Isagi quickly readjusts it when he pulls away. He gives you a sweet smile—though, it grows more cocky when he glances behind you again—and says, "You really are helpful, [name]."

You blush a little but still retain that same smile when his hands trace down your spine gently, romantically. "I know."

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Isagi joins in on the beach volleyball fun with Nagi after Rin and Shidou leave in favour of taking a dip in the sea (you think you hear Shidou saying something about skinny-dipping, and you pray to every god imaginable you heard wrong), so you are left to yourself once more.

You are perfectly content. Your sunhat lay on the towel beside you and your legs are peeked out in the sun—reading your book where you last left off.

Your life is perfectly calm until it is not.

Hands suddenly cover your vision and all you see is darkness. You jerk your head up and are about to say something when a heavily accented voice suddenly rings out throughout your ears, "Guess who?"

You could recognise that voice in your sleep from how often it haunts your dreams. You recognise that voice even before you hear it. You slump down where you sit, letting out a heavy, almost tired sigh. "Kaiser..."

"Ah! How did you guess it so easily, hübsches Mädchen?" He removes the hands blocking your vision and he suddenly plops himself down, right in front of you—of course, his little guard dog is right by his side, sporting his usual guileless expression. "Perhaps you think of me far too often, hm? Also, I told you to call me Michael. We are closer than that, no?"

You shake your head, eyes slightly squinted at him. "I don't know about that. Hello, Ness."

The puppy-dog boy waves his hand at you, clearly delighted. "Hello, [name]!"

Kaiser looks annoyed at this interaction. He scoffs, rolling his electric blue eyes and waving you off mindlessly, lashes fluttering closed, "Whatever. I cannot believe you're just reading at the beach."

You raise a brow. "What's wrong with that?"

He picks up the book by its spine and tosses it nonchalantly on the towel beside you, lips curled downwards into a sneer, "It's terribly dorky. You look like a huge dork."

"You sound like you care about that more than me."

"I don't want my love interest to look like a huge geek. Appearances matter a lot, you know." Yeah, you make that really clear. He abruptly stands up—Ness scrambles to get up as well—and looks down at you, finger curling upwards towards you like he's beckoning you to follow him. "Come on."

You blink with your nose scrunched up. "Excuse me?"

He coughs into a closed fist, looking up at the bright blue sky so he doesn't have to meet your gaze. He still holds a hand out to you, "Come on. Don't keep me waiting."

You're so shocked that you actually find yourself following after him—though, you do not take his outstretched hand and it is left hanging awkwardly. Ness would've taken it.

Your sandals flop on the sand as you walk down the beach, past families and couples and people simply wanting to tan—you follow behind Kaiser in silence while Ness walks beside you. You hope people don't think of you three as a throuple. That would absolutely not be good for your image whatsoever.

You pause as soon as you realise exactly where he is leading you. He's stepped halfway into the water when you halt your movements right before the splash of a wave hits your toes.

"Yeah, no thanks." You abruptly turn on your heel and proceed to try and make a getaway—you don't get too far until Ness grabs your wrist and tugs you backwards. You tumble into him—somehow, he doesn't fall over and only grabs your upper arms in his hands with a frantic expression.

"Please, [name]! Kaiser really wants to swim with you!"

Kaiser hisses through his teeth lowly and stares at Ness like he's just cursed out his mother, "What the hell, Ness?! I never said that!"

The small boy does not make it very subtle when he gasps in shock. Ness slaps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head—his voice is muffled when he speaks, but you can still understand slightly, "I—I never said that! Nobody said that!"

He's so embarrassed the poor boy rushes into the water and disappears beneath the waves. You wonder if he has become one with the sea. In the distance, you can see Kurona and Hiori chilling on a large unicorn floatie—with drinks and colourful straws—that should've only been able to fit one person.

You and Kaiser are now just staring at each other in very much awkward silence. You take a languid step back. "Well... If you don't want to swim..."

Once again, you do not get the chance to dash away because he's grabbed you and pulled you into his grasp before you could even react. You look at him with wide eyes—but you're practically putty in his hands when he bends down and clasps his arms over the back of your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder like a menial sack of potatoes.

Your sandals fall off your feet as soon as you find yourself tucked over him—you let out a very loud, very offended, very embarrassed gasp of shock, "What the hell... ?! Kaiser—put me down! Sick bastard!"

Your words have no visible effect on him. Your head slumps down when you feel him walking, and your hair hangs over your head. You get a good eyeful of his back. He's also more muscular than you imagined. Makes sense why he could even do this. That doesn't mean you're not pissed, though.

You can't see his face, but you can practically envision his signature cocky smirk and how it paints his stupidly handsome features, "I'm all fine, hübsches Mädchen. Are you ready?"

Huh? Ready for what—!!!

You feel so indiscriminately stupid for even asking this question—you should've already known the answer—because you suddenly find yourself collapsing into the water, salt filling each of your senses and the loud noises of children screaming around you fading to muffled nothingness.

You jump up as fast as you can—you're just tall enough so you can stand with your chest above the waves. You start coughing to try and get the small amount of water you happened to swallow out of your system—your hair is now wet with the water and is suddenly heavier, and you're shivering cold.

Kaiser, the asshole he is, is laughing wildly at your expression. You push your hair away from your vision and you receive an earful of his—stupidly charming—laughter. His hands clamp over his mouth in a last-ditch effort to muffle himself, which only makes your face flush hotter with anger and your chest tightens.

You want to yell and scream into his face, but you choose the better way out. You puff your cheeks out and hold your breath as you dive back under, swimming behind him and slamming your foot into the back of his knees so that he tumbles forward, face-first into the water.

You've never felt prouder of yourself.

You bob your head back up and start to laugh wickedly now—it was his turn to look like a drowned rat. When his head comes above water, you can't help the tears of laughter that brim across your waterline when he gives you a deadpan, silently fuming glare.

His wet bangs cling to his face (somehow, it suited him—the mere thought made you feel a little angry, in the way that your stomach started to feel all weird and your heart skipped a beat or two) and his red eyeliner is smeared down his cheek. He pushes his blonde hair back, so that his damp bangs fall over his left eye and his hair is parted strangely to the side.

"Hmph." He looks away from your figure—you have to cling onto his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over, and your chest heaves up and down wildly to breathe. "I don't know what you find so funny."

You look up at him from your slumped position, eyes squinted upwards and you're practically sparkling with joy, "You... you look hilarious! Ahahaha—look at you! I can't—" Your words are cut off by your gasps for air.

Kaiser does not look the least bit impressed. He stares down at where your cheek is planted on the side of his neck, right where the blue rose lies. His hands stabilise you by falling into the small of your back—right where Isagi's fingertips once touched.

You finally regain your composure and move away from how you were practically pressed up against him—your cheeks are starting to hurt from how hard you were smiling, and you now sport a much calmer sort of grin when you stare up at him. "Ah... I'm sorry—don't look so mad—"

He rolls his eyes, which makes you chuckle, hands resting on his shoulders, "Oh come on... don't look at me like that... I'm sorry..." Your tone is far too playful to sound apologetic. He is slightly enjoying the attention you bestow upon him, but the thought makes his head hurt so he chooses not to reflect on it. "Michael..."

Fuck. His name sounds so nice coming out of your mouth.

He still keeps up the annoyed act, however, even when you grin up at him with that stupidly pretty, stupidly knowing look, "Don't be like that... I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

The blonde pauses, blinking owlishly and looking down at you. You are still smiling, and he can feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. You almost look dazed, probably from your previous session of full-blown laughter.

His hands still rest lowly on your hips. He moves one and tilts your chin up with his thumb, "Hm." A smirk coils onto his lips and in an instant you can see the happiness that practically radiates off his being. "I think this will suffice, for now."

He leans forward, and suddenly, he is kissing you. Unlike Isagi—he wastes not a second to slip his tongue between your lips and kisses you as deeply and passionately as he can muster—it's so Kaiser, so him that it makes your stomach twist within itself.

His hands run down the side of your body—the places where his rough fingertips meet the skin that you usually cover with clothing make you jolt and goosebumps form on your wet skin.

His bangs tickle your cheek and despite how wet they are, they are soft. His left, tattooed hand finds itself on the side of your stomach and his blunt nails sink into the soft flesh—he grabs at whatever he can get his hands on. It's lowly and desperate and so unbefitting, so uncharacteristic of him—but in this moment, he can hardly find it within himself to care.

The hot sun beams down on you both and it causes your head to grow all hot and fuzzy—Kaiser's natural warm body heat is not helping either. You're feeling so much all at once that your hands unconsciously place themselves on his bare chest in a small attempt to create a sliver of distance between you two.

It does not work. Your torso leaves no room or gap as you're sunken into his arms—it makes him groan into your mouth and god, you almost feel sick to your stomach when you realise your first thought after hearing it is that you really want him to do it again.

You're not underwater anymore, but you might as well be. Every sense is muffled—the children screaming, the cool, glittery water that surrounds your bodies, even the blackness that clouds your closed-lidded vision—all you can feel is him, his tongue in your mouth and his hands running all over the smoothness of your skin.

Suddenly, you feel your lungs aching, and you realise you need air. You try to pull away—but his face follows yours like he's a mindless dog, and you could've laughed at it if you had not been so stripped of oxygen. You need air and yet he's kissing you like you are his air—it's a fact that makes your cheeks flush red hot.

The only option you can think of is the next action you take—you squeeze your hand out of where he presses your chests impossibly close and entangle them within his damp, blonde locks—tugging backwards and forcing him to leave the slightest amount of space between your mouths, so you can gasp for air.

Your hand tugging at Kaiser's long hair, hard, and you hotly panting into his mouth—he'd rather be caught dead than admit this aloud, but it doesn't feel half bad.

Your eyes crack open slightly, and you have to choke down a laugh when staring at his expression. His face is flushed bright red—compared to his usual pale complexion—and his squinted cerulean eyes are clouded with unmistakable desirable passionate lust.

"Scheiße, hübsches Mädchen." He curses lowly, chest rising and falling erratically as he pulls you in even closer—if that were possible. You can feel every ridge and bump of his hard torso against you and the smirk that pulls across his lips makes your heart pound. "You make my heart race."

When your breathing starts to even, he closes the gap between you both once more, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down—you whine into him and he kisses you softly as some sort of minor apology—you'd never hear the word sorry come out of his lips, after all. His hand dips down to trace up and down your spine, while the other rests below your ass.

He slides his lips away from yours, down your neck and he rests his face in the crook between your neck and shoulders—pressing languid, open-mouthed kisses against the salty skin. His hair falls over his shoulder and trickles into the water like molten honey—it flutters around in the sea and he looks stupidly gorgeous like this.

Now that he's not blocking your vision nor taking over each of your senses, you can see now see the distant figures of your friends all playing together in the sea, including that of Isagi. He's talking together with the others and having fun while you're over here, making out with one of his most hated rivals.

Still, you can't find it within yourself to give it a second thought when his teeth sink into your neck, and his hands tighten around your upper thighs. He lifts his head after you whimper a little and push him back—he follows where your eyes lead and you're sure he also happens to see the head of your dear friend.

The smile that curls across his lips is nothing short of dangerous. "Oh, is that Yoichi? Are you worried about him seeing us?" You do not give him a verbal answer, but the way you look down and the way your lips tremble gives him everything he needs. "How cute. No worries."

He lifts his face and all you can see is him. His hair falls over his shoulder and his bangs tickle your cheek once more. His touch is undeniably soft despite the carnal look he sports in his sharp, angled eyes. "Why don't we give him a show, hübsches Mädchen?"

He whispers so delicately—you do not have the mind to shake your head no, nor do you protest when he slips his tongue between your obediently open lips once more, hands tucked around your hips.

Your heart will not stop pounding. Kaiser smiles at the fact that he is doing this to you. He smiles at the fact you are like mindless putty in his hands, and he smiles at the fact that he can feel bright blue eyes staring holes into him—there's nothing wrong with showing off, right?

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anthotneystark · 2 months

Text

I wanna reach out and grab ya

(edit: now on ao3!)

In the aftermath, as the dust settles, the world shakes.

He expects it, but it still catches him off balance.

He leans against the ambulance, brushes off Nancy’s comment about him needing medical care. Jonathan gives him a look like he wants to call him out on it, but he lets it go. He’s not sure how long he’s been awake, but he knows that if either of them really pressed him, he’d fold like a paper bag.

You know, easily but with a decent amount of noise.

It’s all he can do to keep upright, using the cool metal door to help. The world doesn’t exactly feel steady, but he took a few hits to the head and he’s sure that’s not helping. There’s a ringing in his ears, his sides ache, his face burns, and he’s not altogether sure how long he’s been awake. He’s sure it’s been somewhere along the lines of too long. He’s not looking forward to going home, not when all he’s got waiting there is a cold, empty house. His parents won’t be back for a few more weeks.

Even if there’s a part of him, a big part if he can admit it, that desperately wants his mom to be there, he’s not going to call and ask for her. He’s supposed to be an adult now, he’s supposed to be growing up, he can’t call for her.

Even if it stings a little, watching other people reuniting with their families.

He loses track of time a little, and is only snapped out of it when he’s dragged into a hug. It’s tight, warm, and so gentle for how fierce it is. He reflexively hugs back before he puts it all together, before he recognizes that it’s Claudia Henderson. She’s saying something, but he can’t really hear it because he’s too busy trying to catch up on what exactly is happening. When she pulls back, she either repeats it or it’s a different question.

Robin answers before he can.

“Yeah, Steve’s gonna stay with me tonight.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, dingus, remember?”

“Right, yeah, I’m staying with her tonight.” Except. “How are we getting to your place? I lost my keys,” he adds.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ll take you,” Claudia says. A godsend, really, always. He’s going to need to get new keys entirely given that his have probably been melted by the fire, but he can’t tell her that.

Robin sticks to his side as they go to the car, her hand slides into his and he holds on tight. He doesn’t let go until they’re in her house, after the quiet car ride where he almost dozed off a dozen times. Her parents are at work, both on the night shift at the moment, so it’s just them. Convenient, given that they’re probably going to wake up screaming at some point. She shoves him into the bathroom first and he uses her strawberry shampoo and doesn’t bother to even attempt anything resembling his usual process for cleaning up.

While she takes her turn, he pulls on the clothes she set out. A Hawkins Band tee shirt that’s a little tight and a pair of gym shorts that are probably bigger than his own. He’s almost dozing when she starts messing with his hair, helping to dry it without him even noticing she’d finished her shower. It’s more a nervous movement than anything, but it feels nice.

“We’re going to need to keep some of your clothes here, you know.”

“Why?”

“So you have something to wear, obviously.”

Obviously. Because he’s going to stay with her sometimes. He should have her clothes at his place too then, even if he’s perfectly willing to let her raid his closet. He likes the idea though, the plan to mesh themselves together already. He’s never had anyone in his life who’s made themselves at home in his heart this quickly.

He’s not sure when he drifts off, when she tugs him the rest of the way onto the bed, when she pulls the blanket up, only distantly feels the way she leans into him, the way he reflexively curls into her.

She feels like she’s always been here with him and he can’t figure out how he lived without her.

----------

Robin is perfect.

Not like, literally, and it’s not the same as when he’d say it about Nancy.

That’s the other thing that he figures out with her. He’s really not in love with Nancy. He’d said it, but it really sinks in later. It sinks in the first time they talk about romance, as he tries to give her flirting advice while she laughs at him and asks if he needs a new whiteboard.

They do mingle their closets too, as planned. She still steals his clothes, and he ends up wearing her tee shirts more than his own. She takes him thrifting and shows him all her secrets and he teaches her the art of negotiation in stores.

(She’s in awe when he talks down a sales clerk over a stain that he then magics away in the laundry room at his house.)

He shows her how he learned to cook and she helps him to get creative with new ideas. She demands the first bite every time, and he’s happy to share it.

Her parents welcome him though. Her mom teaches him more about first aid than he learned lifeguarding, and her dad teaches him more about cars in his spare time. He’d known some, but it’s nice, being taught instead of just figuring things out on his own through trial and error. It doesn’t take long for him to get fully intermingled in the Buckley family and it’s the most love he’s ever felt.

Somewhere between the whiteboard and that first night spent sharing a bed, they become SteveAndRobin. Somewhere between her mom finishing her shift and finding them curled up on the couch watching cartoons (because after being exposed to terrifying monsters and soldiers, cartoons are necessary) and her dad coming home to find all three of them wrapped up in it, he finds out he fits perfectly in this space.

Somewhere between the first family dinner and the start of the school year, he unofficially becomes a Buckley.

Sitting there in the hospital waiting room, collapsed into a chair because he’s never felt this exhausted, with Robin at one side and Dustin at the other, with Erica and Lucas whispering with Nancy, with Eddie and Max in surgery, he feels it all building up. All the feelings he’d tried to push down, the fear and panic and pain, bubbling up to the surface. He’s not really looking where his eyes are aimed, not even paying attention until Robin is forcing his heavy, aching limbs up and toward an empty room. She gives him a look as she leaves him on the bed and he’s not even confused about her leaving him there to go back to the waiting room because it’s better if she stays with Dustin anyway.

Except then the door is opening again, with a familiar and welcome sight stepping in.

And then it’s all too much.

Those emotions bubble over with a half-sobbed “Mom” and then arms are around him, holding him together as he splinters into a million pieces.

His mother smells like expensive perfume, floral and chemical and strong. But Betty Buckley smells like antiseptic and cinnamon and it’s the most comforting smell in the world right then.

She doesn’t question the grime or blood staining his clothes, doesn’t try to get him to tell her what happened, just holds him because he can’t break in front of the kids, can’t let them see how much he’s struggling right now. He needs this, is the thing. He hasn’t really broken down yet because he has to be the strong one, he has to be tough, even if it kills him, but she’s safe. She’s safe enough for him to let go.

She lets him get it all out, and still doesn’t ask anything. It doesn’t really matter, not at the moment, so she just brushes his hair off his forehead, uses a damp cloth to wipe away some of the dirt, helps him to pull on scrubs before halting that process to treat his back and arms and sides and neck. He’s gone a little numb, but she moves quick anyway. And then he’s on his back, an IV hooked into his hand, and she’s pressing a kiss to his forehead and telling him to rest.

So he does.

It’s not a conscious decision, more like he was just waiting for someone to tell him he could.

When he wakes, Robin is in the bed next to him. Dustin is on a rolling cot against the wall. He knows without knowing that Max is down the hall, Lucas and Erica are with her, and Nancy is probably bossing around everyone in that way she does that he can’t help respecting. He doesn’t stay awake long.

----------

He’s going stir crazy.

There’s a lot of mixed feelings. On one hand, he’s slept a lot. On the other, the town is a little broken. Robin and Dustin are volunteering, and he’ll join them when he can get out there, but Richard Buckley is under strict orders to keep him from making an escape. The plant has been temporarily shut down, and he’s a glass half-full kind of guy, but it’s really inconvenient for Steve’s desire to be out of the hospital.

He still loves him though, really.

He finally gets a window when Rich steps out for real food.

(It had been hilarious when he and Robin established their dads are both “Richard”, but while Steve’s dad thinks shortening it sounds ridiculous, Robin’s dad loves to give himself new short names at every opportunity. The week he wanted to go by Chard was a fun week.)

He goes for the door, playing nonchalant, and is dismayed to find someone sitting outside.

“He told me you’d try and escape,” the man says, not looking up from his newspaper.

“I’m not escaping,” he lies.

“Humor me.” The man looks over at him then and Steve has to bite back his surprise. “Huh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your last name isn’t Buckley.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why have I been hearing for months about Ritchie’s boy?”

“Technically I am that.”

“Not the right one though.”

“No, but that’s sematics.”

“You’re missing an ‘n’ there, son.” The correction is gentle, carrying the tone of someone who’s used to reminding someone else of little details. For some reason, it doesn’t sting like it did when other people corrected him.

“Right, yeah.”

“You had a bit of blood loss, I hear. Maybe you should lay back down again.”

“I can’t. There’s…people are out there and need help. Other people got hurt worse than me. I can’t just lay here and do nothing.”

“You’re not doing nothing, you’re recovering.”

“I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like you are,” he half mumbles, and god, it’s so familiar it aches.

“I don’t know why you’re focused on keeping me in bed. You of all people should be fine with me going out there to help out.” There’s a beat of silence, where Steve thinks he maybe overstepped, getting just a sigh in return.

“Maybe. But I know damn well how important you are to a friend of mine and he asked for a favor. I’m not about to let him down.”

“Mr. Munson –”

“Wayne.”

“…Wayne. You should go back to Eddie. He needs you more.”

“He’s got a visitor already. I’m not hovering.”

“I think you’re hovering a bit here.”

“Well opinions are like assholes, son. Everyone’s got one.” It’s enough to startle a laugh out of him, as Wayne stands up and ushers him back into the room. He didn’t notice while he was standing there as the pain in his muscles, the itching of the scabs, the exhaustion in his bones, creeps back up on him. He protests, but doesn’t really fight as he’s nudged back into the too firm mattress.

“Get some more rest, kid. Long days are coming, take advantage while you can.”

----------

“I just don’t get it!”

“Is he still talking about this?”

Robin’s groan is the only answer he needs. Dustin, back on his usual arguments after saving the world again, is expanding his hobby. Now he’s not just bugging Steve and Robin about their love life (love lives?), he’s dragging others in on the argument too.

“Dusty-buns, you seem to be awful involved in this,” Eddie teases. “Maybe you have a crush on Robin.” She makes a face, throws a marshmallow at him, and Steve snorts as he cackles.

“No! I just don’t know why they won’t date! Eddie, back me up on this,” Dustin says. “They’re perfect for each other! They laugh at the same jokes, share clothes all the time, and don’t even argue, Steve, I’ve seen her wear your jeans before and you’ve worn her sweaters. They share food with each other, spend all their time together, and they share chapstick!”

“Hey, we don’t spend all our time together! Sometimes I wait for her to bike to my house.”

“Not helping, babe.”

“See!” Dustin is probably seconds from losing his marbles, and Steve really should put him out of his misery, but it’s too funny still.

“You’re missing some key information, boy-genius,” Eddie says.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that they’re never going to date.”

“That’s what doesn’t make sense!”

“Robin, pass me our chapstick,” Steve says, just to make Dustin a little more insane.

“You had it last. Steven, did you lose our chapstick?”

“I definitely gave it back to you.”

“Here you go,” Eddie says, tossing the little tube to Steve with a grin. Dustin’s eyes dart between the three of them like he’s just gotten new information.

“Eddie. Are you…dating Robin?”

It’s Steve’s turn to groan, and he doesn’t need to look to see the face Robin is making.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, Eddie is dating me!” Now he’s silent. And Steve is going to panic if he stays silent.

“Huh. That makes a lot of sense. You were weirdly jealous.”

“I was what? No I wasn’t!”

“You kind of were,” Robin adds.

“And it makes sense why you wouldn’t date Robin, who is literally perfect for you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you we’re just friends.”

“Yeah, and I could be literally perfect for him, pipsqueak,” Eddie says, grabbing one of Robin’s marshmallows to throw at him.

“You and Robin are still weirdly codependent, it has to be said,” Dustin insists, batting away Eddie’s attempts to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get psychically linked to each other. Get used to it, Henderson.”

“You’re what?!” Eddie and Dustin’s voices overlap, but they’re both drowned out by his and Robin’s laughter.

Their expressions alone are worth the lecture they’re going to get about keeping secrets.

#platonic stobin #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #kat writes #fic #idk i got really in my feels about Steve and family and Robin and wanted to have some fun with the angst of it all

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bettyfrommars · 1 month

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A little something inspired by this edit by @somnambulic-thing of what I imagine as a version of a mechanic!Eddie, but he's also biker!Eddie to me, or anything you want.

mechanic!Eddie x Reader

18+Only, secret work crush, gender neutral reader, just some yearning fluff with mention of weed and alcohol, bit of slut shaming, some sage advice from Wayne.

word count: 1.7k

Eddie had been staring at the door to the office and zoning out for a while when you opened it to step into the bay, and his unblinking gaze accidentally lingered at your midsection.

“What’s wrong?” You glanced down at your outfit, thinking maybe your zipper was open or something worse. There were three other mechanics besides Eddie there that day, each of them knee deep in the hustle and bustle of the busy season. A boombox on one of the tall, red cubbies blasted hard rock while an electric drill buzzed.

His attention snapped back to the bolt he was crouched down to tighten on the rim of a Ford Bronco.

“Nothing,” he grunted, cranking the ratchet so that the muscles on his tattooed bicep bulged. He had on his signature summer uniform of black coveralls with the sleeves ripped off. His hair was tied back in a pony with a navy-blue bandana on his head, making it easier to slip his welding helmet on and off. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

Now, that was a big fat lie. Spotting your car in the parking lot when he came in every morning was one of those things that set his day right. You’d taken Thursday off the week before, and he’d moped around in a bad mood for the entire shift.

Almost four months you’d been working in the office, and he still hadn’t summoned the nerve to ask you out. Instead, he drank too much after a show at the Hideout one night and ended up letting some random chick crawl all over him. The next day, the guys he worked with would make it sound more serious than it actually was.

“Soooo Munson, I heard you got lucky with Deep Throat Dana last night. They say she can suck an orange out of a tailpipe!”

And then the entire shop broke out into wheezing laughter like a bunch of hyenas, as if something funny was said.

It made him cringe, and he cast a side glance to see if you were within earshot. “Nothing happened with that girl,” he wanted to say to you. “We kissed, but I just couldn’t…ya know?”

But also, why did he feel the need to explain himself to you? It was as if he was being faithful to a dream. You’d never give him the time of day out in the real world. Sure, you knew just how he liked his coffee, and you asked him questions about DnD and his band as if you were interested. But, you were just being nice—he could tell. At first he thought he was special, but quickly realized that you treated everyone the same. You were, in fact, a thoughtful, likable person. Surely your only interest in him was as co-workers, nothing more.

Also, he could hear Wayne’s voice in his head: “Don’t shit where you eat, son.”

It was his uncle's long-standing advice to never get involved with a coworker, and Eddie just happened to agree. If he was ever lucky enough to take you on a few dates and then you dumped him or broke his heart, he wasn’t sure he could work at the garage anymore. On the bright side, he also had a CDL to operate heavy equipment, so maybe that would be his cue to become a long-haul trucker.

Deep breath Munson, you’re getting way ahead of yourself.

You hesitated in the doorway for a beat with Mrs. Chadwick’s paperwork for the Oldsmobile sedan in your hand, wanting to ask Eddie how his day was going. But then he sank down onto the creeper and rolled under the vehicle as if to avoid you in a hurry.

You really didn’t know what to make of him.

One second, you’d be certain he was flirting, but then later that day, he’d huff out the door without even so much as a wave. He’d tease you about things, like your collection of random motel pens or the music you liked, and then you’d give the energy right back and wait for that gremlin smile to spread across his face.

The other day, he’d left your favorite candy bar on the desk for you to find. You knew it was him because he was the only one in Hawkins you’d told. How the topic of sweets came up, you weren’t sure, but you’d never forget the curious narrowing of his eyes when he asked which one you liked best.

You had this strange feeling that he was secretly studying you.

The other night you were sitting across from your friend Tina, having burgers and beers at The Hideaway, when Eddie just happened to breeze in.

Your heart stuttered, whatever you’d been saying dying on your lips, completely losing your train of thought. The vinyl in the booth squeaked as you craned your neck to watch him. That was the first time you’d ever seen him in street clothes without coveralls on, and it was raining, so his long hair was soaked. He greeted the woman at the cash register, and you were too far away to hear, but apparently he was there to pay and pick up his takeout order in a big brown sack with greasy handprints on it. You thought about waving him down to ask if he wanted to join the two of you, but he did his business in a hurry and didn’t seem to want to be noticed.

“What’s going on?” Tina asked, gaze darting from you to the Dio patch on Eddie’s back as he exited the building. She munched a french fry before wiping ketchup off her lip. “Did something happen between you and Eddie?”

You snapped a look at her. “You know him?”

“Well, not intimately,” she ate another fry. “But I went to school with him, and bought weed from him a few times.”

“He sells weed?” You cocked an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised.

“It’s been like, a while, but maybe he still does. How do you know him?”

“We work together,” you brought the half-eaten burger up for a bite and paused there. “I think he hates me.”

“I highly doubt that.” And then she stared pointedly at you when she said, “he’s cute,” with a knowing smirk.

“Ha,” you adjusted the napkin on your lap. “Well, as you know, I plan to stay single for the rest of my life.”

“Sure, sure.”

When it got closer to 6 that day, you scrambled to get off the phone with a customer, worried Eddie might slip out again and you wouldn’t see him for the entire weekend. After hiding in the supply closet for a full minute to avoid Phil—one of the other mechanics who liked to talk your ear off—you finally made it to the break room, panting as if you’d just run a marathon.

Eddie was there, bent over to snatch a Pepsi out of the vending machine. Freezing in place, you suddenly forgot how to form words.

Eddie felt like an idiot, like for sure you’d caught on to the fact that he’d been finding shit to do for the past half hour just so he could be there to have some private time with you. He didn’t like the idea of you closing up the shop by yourself, especially now that it was getting darker sooner.

And then fucking Phil wouldn’t leave. His wife had relatives visiting, and he was shuffling around like a sad puppy trying to avoid going home. Eddie had to pretend he needed to take a shit just to get rid of him, and was halfway surprised the dude didn’t follow him into the bathroom.

He usually brought his own lunch, but the snack and soda machines were always tempting. He knew how to open the damn things up and thought about doing some last minute grocery shopping to make up for his crappy wage.

You cleared your throat. “So, what are you up to this weekend? Any fun plans?”

Eddie pulled his shoulders back and spun around at the sound of your voice, fisting the can in one hand and running the other through his hair. He’d been growing his bangs out, and they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears. The length was so fucking annoying at times that he’d often considered chopping them to nubs.

You were smiling at him, eyes bright and sincere, and it made him feel all fuzzy inside like his brain was made of cotton candy.

“My day was good. You?” That was what came out of his mouth, and then he let out a silent, internal scream that made his ears ring.

But he recovered quickly. “I mean, I don’t have any plans. I don’t usually have…I mean, my buddy Jeff and I might go see a movie, but not like major plans.” He didn’t want to tell you he was taking a trip out to Rick’s on Sunday to beef up his supply for weekly customers. He sure as hell couldn’t restore the van on the chump change he made at the garage.

You stared at him intently, softening when you realized he was nervous.

How could that be? Did you make him nervous?

You pulled a folded piece of paper out of your back pocket and held it up. “I found this at the laundromat. It says your band is playing at The Hideout on Tuesday. Is that still happening?”

Pinched between your thumb and forefinger was one of the handmade fliers Gareth had helped him make.

“Well we…yes-–” he cracked open the lid of the soda and it fizzed everywhere, dripping down his arm and onto the linoleum floor. “Shit, I’ll clean that up, don’t worry.”

He didn’t want you to get stuck having to get the mop out to clean again, so he put the leaking can down on the lunch table and went over to grab something to wipe it up.

He busied himself with sopping up the mess, albeit poorly, while you inched closer.

“I think I might stop by and check you guys out,” you saw that his face was red when he stood, chocolate orbs lit up in anticipation. “Maybe we could have a beer or something after?”

His cotton candy brain tried to filter his next thought, but it was too late. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” You blinked a few times. “Is your band playing somewhere tonight too?”

“No, but I—” the tip of his tongue slipped side to side between his lips. “If you’re not busy tonight maybe we could go somewhere to eat or drink or hang out or something.”

“Or something,” a grin quivered in the corner of your mouth.

And then the two of you were just standing there, close enough for your breathing to fall into sync. Gathering up a nice helping of nerve, you reached an arm out and ran the back of your knuckles down the front of his shirt.

Eddie was vibrating.

Don’t shit where you eat, son.

No disrespect Uncle, but fuck the job.

“Anything," he said softly, hope blossoming in his chest like those wildly palpitating hearts in cartoons. “Anything you want.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson edit #mechanic!Eddie #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Somna's edits #eddie munson x reader #Wayne Munson #Eddie Munson fluff

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cupcakeslushie · 4 months

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For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)

Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)

——

The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.

“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.

“Michael?”

“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”

“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”

That gets the laugh he was looking for.

“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”

Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.

“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.

“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.

Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.

“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.

“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.

Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.

Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four weeks). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.

———

He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.

“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.

It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.

“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”

No answer.

The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.

But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.

Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.

A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.

He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.

As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise kendra #Kendratello au #ask slushie #rottmnt writing #kendratello au ask

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won4kiss · 1 month

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── ❝ ꒰ 𝑀𝑌 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸, 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐸 𝒜𝐿𝐿 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐸 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 박종성 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ fluff & angst ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which your pregnancy hormones are acting up, and make you snap at jay .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1385 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not edited ៸ pregnancy ៸ pet names ៸ moodswings ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭— hybe pls let enha rest ! (╥﹏╥) ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

THE HOUSE FELT UNUSUALLY QUIET— ALMOST TOO QUIET.

you’ve been sitting on the couch for what feels like hours, wrapped in a blanket that does little to weigh down the constant train of emotions swirling inside you.

the tv is on, but you’re not really paying attention to it. your mood has been all over the place for the past few days due to your pregnancy hormones, and now, you felt an uncomfortable tightness in your chest.

everything seemed to irritate you at the moment—the sound of the ticking clock, the soft buzzing of the refrigerator, even the sunlight filtering through the windows felt too bright.

you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away quickly.

you’ve cried more than enough lately, and you’re trying not to let it consume you again.

you know it’s just the hormones, just your body adjusting to this huge change, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

and the worst part is how you’ve been snapping at jay, your husband over the smallest things. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

he doesn’t deserve it, not one bit, and yet you can’t seem to control yourself.

you snap out of your thoughts as the door clicks open, and jay steps into the living room, looking slightly worn out but smiling with his eyes lit up when he saw you.

he’s carrying a couple of grocery bags, the crinkling sound filling the silence as he sets them down on the counter.

he walked over to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead, and the warmth of his lips lingers on your skin.

usually, his affection would calm you, but today, you can’t shake off the random irritation that’s settled deep inside.

"hey, love," he greets softly. "i picked up some things for you. got your favorite snacks."

he smiles down at you, his eyes soft and filled with affection.

he’s always thinking of you, always trying to make things better, and that should make you feel grateful.

but today, the knot in your chest tightens even more.

you glance over at the bags, seeing the snacks peeking out from the top, and instead of feeling touched, a wave of frustration surges through you.

you didn’t ask for those, you don’t even want them right now! why would he recklessly be spending money like that?

"why would you get those, jay?" you snap, your voice harsher than you intended.

you can see the surprise flash in his eyes, but the words keep tumbling out before you can stop them.

"i didn’t even ask for them! i just wish you’d check with me before doing stuff like this, such a waste of our money— money that we need for the baby!"

jay blinks, momentarily stunned by your outburst. he straightens up, his expression shifting from soft to slightly hurt.

his smile falters, replaced by a confused frown.

"i’m sorry… i thought you liked them," he says quietly, the vulnerability in his voice catching you off guard.

he’s trying to understand the reasoning of you outburst, but you’ve already wounded him.

you saw the hurt in his eyes, the way he was trying to mask it for your sake, but you can tell.

it’s in the way his shoulders tense and the way his gaze drops to the floor, avoiding yours.

he’s always been so strong for you, so understanding, but seeing him like this—seeing the pain you’ve caused him— that same expression after your outbursts, breaks something inside of you.

tears well up in your eyes, and this time, you can’t hold them back—they spill over, hot and uncontrollable, as sobs rack your body.

"jay… i’m so, so sorry," you choke out between gasping breaths.

"i didn’t mean it— i swear, i don’t even know why i said that… it’s just these stupid hormones. i feel like i can’t control anything anymore."

jay’s eyes widened at the sight of you crying.

his own hurt is quickly forgotten as he rushes over to you, dropping to his knees in front of the couch.

he gently took your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that stream down your cheeks.

his touch is so tender, so loving, that it only makes you cry harder.

"hey, shh… it’s okay," he whispers, his voice soft and comforting.

he leans in, pressing feather-light kisses to your tear-streaked cheeks, his lips lingering as if he was trying to kiss away your sadness.

"please don’t cry, baby. i know you didn’t mean it. it’s not your fault. these hormones are just messing with you, and that’s completely normal. don’t stress yourself out, okay?"

you shook your head, still feeling the weight of guilt pressing down on you.

"but i hurt you. i hate that i hurt you. you don’t deserve that." your voice thick with emotion, and you can barely get the words out between sobs.

jay’s heart aches seeing you like this, but his love for you outweighs any pain you may have caused.

"you didn’t hurt me, silly," he says softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead, his lips warm and reassuring.

"i promise, i’m okay. i know it’s just the hormones talking. you don’t need to apologize for that. we’re in this together, remember?"

his words only make you cry harder, but this time, it’s more out of relief than guilt.

you bury your face in his chest, clutching at his shirt as you let the last of your tears fall.

jay wraps his arms around you, holding you close, his hands rubbing comforting circles on your back.

he doesn’t rush you. he just lets you cry, lets you release all the pent-up emotions that have been swirling inside you for days.

his presence is calming, grounding, and little by little, your sobs finally began to subside.

when you finally pulled back, sniffling and wiping at your eyes, jay looks at you with so much love that it makes your heart swell in affection.

he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear and presses another kiss to your forehead.

"let’s not worry about this anymore, okay?" he says softly.

"how about we just relax? i’ll put on your favorite movie, and we can cuddle. i think we both need it."

you nod, still feeling a bit raw but grateful for his unwavering patience and understanding towards you.

jay stands up and helps you adjust the blanket around yourself before grabbing the remote.

he flips through the streaming options and puts on one of your favorite comfort movies—the kind that always makes you feel warm and safe.

he sits back down beside you, pulling you into his arms.

you immediately snuggle into his chest, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

his hand stroked your hair gently, and he occasionally presses soft kisses to the top of your head, each one filled with love and reassurance.

as the movie played, you found yourself slowly relaxing, the tension in your body melting away under jay’s touch.

his warmth surrounds you, and the quiet hum of the movie in the background lulls you into a state of peace.

"i love you," he whispers into your hair after a while, his voice soft and full of sincerity.

"you and our little one… you’re everything to me."

your heartbeat quickens at his words, and for the first time today, you feel a sense of calm wash over you.

"i love you too," you whisper back, your voice still a little shaky but filled with as much emotion as you can manage.

"i’m— we’re so lucky to have you."

jay tightens his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head.

"i’m the lucky one," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the soft sound of the movie.

"no matter what, i’ll always be here to take care of you. always."

you smile softly, closing your eyes as you allow yourself to drift asleep into the comfort of his embrace.

wrapped in jay’s arms, with his quiet reassurances and the warmth of his love surrounding you, everything feels alright again.

𝒯aglist open ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @greentulip @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @pockyyasii @iluvnikism @hooniesgf @niawonn

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aestheticaltcow · 6 months

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Six Months

An attempt at some parenthood angst?

Similarly to the title, this fic has been in my WIP folder for a minute; it went through a handful of edits. I'd like to think this is good enough for y'all.

The Bear Masterlist

Next part

Carmy sat in the office staring at the paperwork Sugar needed his signature on; when he saw the date on his phone, it hit him—today marked six months. Six months of parenthood and six months of celibacy, to say Carmy was sexually frustrated, was an understatement. “Hey Carm, did you- are you okay?” Sugar asked when she caught him staring blankly at his phone. He didn’t respond until she put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch snapped him out of his trance. He looked at her before quickly apologizing, “Sorry, what were you sayin'?” Sugar grinned as she patted his shoulder, “You okay, Bear?”

Carmy nodded and straightened up in his desk chair, “Yea- just thinkin’ bout the baby.”

Carmy got home from work late. He quietly slipped his jacket off, and hung it on the coat rack before removing his shoes. Walking down the hallway, he slipped into the nursery, knowing the baby would be asleep. He found it impossible not to be happy in her room. The walls were decorated with vintage floral wallpaper you’d bought off Etsy, it may have been a pain in the ass to put up, but Carmy happily obliged when he saw how happy it had made you. He crept to his baby girl’s crib and felt the day's stress disappear. She was peacefully sleeping in a light pink sleep sack, furiously sucking away on her pacifier. “Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered. “I love you.”

The joy of watching his daughter sleep faded away as he approached the askew door to the master bedroom the two of you shared. “I’m home, baby.” Carmy grinned as he walked toward the open closet door, “Hi, Carm.” you called from the bathroom. When he entered the bathroom, you were brushing your teeth. As the mix of salvia and toothpaste residue dripped from your mouth Carmy’s breath hitched- was this enough to get him goin’? He shook his head as he pulled his shirt off and threw it in the laundry hamper before turning on the shower.

“How was work, babe?” you asked before bringing a small cup of mouthwash to your lips. Carmy watched as you swished it around your mouth and spit it into the sink. “Carmy?” you asked again; he swallowed. “Yeah, uh, it was good. Busy,” he answered as you hopped up on the counter. You were desperate for adult interaction after being home with the baby all day.

“Mia, have a good day?” Carmy questioned. You nodded, “We did some laundry, then had mashed pears for lunch- she did. I had that leftover pasta sauce you made... Read a couple books and went on a walk... Then did her bedtime routine, and I worked on that stupid documentary I was telling you about.”

As you recounted your day, Carmy nodded, but he was staring at your chest, barely hearing what you said. You’d been wearing one of his old T-shirts. He noticed how prominent your nipples were under the soft, worn-in material. He was captivated by the fullness of your breasts, and he’d do just about anything to touch them again. “Carm, you okay?” you asked, hopping down from the counter; he nodded. “Wanna get in with me?” he asked cocking his head in the direction of the running shower. You giggled, “Maybe next time, bear.”

“Oh fuck-” Carmy grunted as he worked his hand up and down his length. He felt like a teenager again, masturbating in the shower before going to school. However, now, instead of imagining the unrealistic scenarios he’d see in pornos, he had memories of you. Carmy thought back to the last time you’d really touched him. Heavily pregnant, hormonal, begging for his tongue and his cock… he’d expected a shift in your sex life as the two of you adjusted to parenthood, but this long of a dry spell was the last thing he’d expected. Carmy squeezed his eyes closed as he came down the drain.

“Good morning, princess.” Carmy cooed as Mia squirmed in her crib, trying to get out of her sleep sack. She spat her pacifier out and let out a gruggle. “So it’s one of those mornings?” he chuckled as he unzipped her. He watched her stretch before carefully picking her up, “See, you’re okay.” he rocked her gently before exiting the nursery and heading downstairs.

You were making coffee and prepping a bottle for Mia as he entered the kitchen. “You’re off today, right?” Carmy nodded in response before handing you Mia. “You goin’ to work?” he questioned, as he got two mugs from the cabinet. You groaned in response, “Jenny called off, so I have to go in. I’ll be back before bedtime.”

“Well, looks like Mia and I are havin' some Daddy-Daughter time,” you smiled as Carmy gently kissed her head before going to get the milk from the fridge. When you’d met Carmy all those years ago at some trendy Chicago bar, you found him incredibly alluring. His disheveled curls, the mix of some musky cologne and cigarette smoke, the way his T-shirt wrapped around his muscular arms… he’d always been… sexy. But watching him interact with Mia was a different kind of attractive.

Carmy drummed his thumbs on the handlebar of the grocery cart. He scanned the shelf before him as Mia happily made her baby noises as she looked around the aisle. “Okay, princess… they don’t have almond extract. What kind of grocery store doesn’t have fuckin’ almond extract.” Mia put her hands out to Carmy, grabbing at the air. Carmy chuckled and ducked to kiss her cheek.

“Oh my gosh, she’s too precious.” a sickly, sweet feminine voice cooed from behind Carmy. He grinned when he turned his attention to her, “How old is she?” she asked. Carmy got a good look at the woman; she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. “Oh, uh, she’s six months,” he answered as the woman stepped closer. She smelled like cheap vanilla and a mix of flowery scents Carmy couldn’t place. Mia glared at the woman, and Carmy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Selena. I’m in this parenting group. You should stop by.” she smiled as she looked him up and down. The attention made Carmy regret not regularly wearing his wedding ring. “I’m not really the par-” Carmy started to say before Selena cut him off. “I’m not takin’ no as an answer. What’s your number?” she handed him her phone.

Carmy didn’t know why he gave her his number- could he blame it on feeling uncomfortable? Was that even the right thing to do? It’s not like he’d ever do anything with this woman. He’d never throw away his marriage to you by hooking up with some woman he met at the grocery store. The reality of Carmy's actions didn’t hit him until he was in the checkout line. He gave his phone number to another woman- was that cheating on you? Did doing that in front of his daughter make him a bad father? “Okay, your total is $63.82.” the cashier smiled. Carmy nodded and swiped his card. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t run into Selena again.

It had been a couple of weeks since Carmy’s interaction at the grocery store. He’d noticed Selena’s text messages here and there. They seemed innocent until one Friday night, he was working late, you were home with the baby, and Selena had sent Carmy an explicit picture, hoping it would get his attention.

We’re both parents.

I’m not looking for anything serious, Carmy…

My son is at his Dad’s place

Come over <3

Carmy stared at the messages before his eyes went up to the attached photo. Selena had the hem of her T-shirt between her teeth, showing off her toned stomach. He swallowed as he admired the contrast between her skin and the brightly colored fabric of her lacy underwear. He should block her. He should just delete the messages and block her number. He had a wife and baby at home—he couldn’t make this kind of mistake. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket before returning to the kitchen cleanup, “Hey Carm, I can finish this up. Go home.” Sweeps grinned as he attempted to connect his phone to the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. Carmy grinned, “You sure, man?” Sweeps nodded assuringly. “I think I can handle this boss man.”

You heard Carmy walk into the bedroom that night, “Hey babe!” you called as you put your blowdryer in its designated spot by the sink. As the bathroom door swung open, Carmy’s lips were on yours. The initial shock wore off as Carmy’s tongue invaded your mouth, and his hands pushed under the hem of your sleep shorts to grasp at your ass cheeks. Carmy pulled you closer to him, forcing you onto your tip toes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers delicately tangling in the roots of his hair. The passionate kiss ended when Carmy started to kiss down your jaw. A giggle escaped your mouth as his lips brushed against your earlobe before he nipped at your neck. “Carm-m what got into you?” you croaked as you adjusted your hips against his.

“I need you, baby,” he muttered, lifting you off the floor. You squealed as he crashed down onto your mattress. He hovered above your body, staring into your eyes. “I need to be inside you, baby.” he swallowed hard as you bit your lip. “Carmyyy,” you giggled as you watched him pull his t-shirt off. You ran a finger down his chest, making him moan softly.

“Let me make you feel good, baby…” Carmy whispered in your ear as one of his hands found its way into your oversized sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his calloused fingertips graze your ribs. " I-I—" you studdered nervously. “Baby…please.” Carmy quietly asked as his lips brushed against yours. “No.” you whispered as you grabbed his wrist through your shirt, “What?” Carmy questioned as he stood up abruptly, “Did I do something? We haven’t done anything in like six months- clearly I did something wrong. Just tell me so I can fix it!” Carmy raised his voice as his eyebrows knit together in frustration.

You propped yourself on your elbows and watched as he picked up his shirt from the floor, “Carmen, please don’t yell at me.” you said calmly. You watched as he rolled his eyes and paced before you, “Baby. I want to have sex with you. I need to have sex with you-” Carmy groaned as he pushed his hands over his face into his hair. Your eyes narrowed, “Carmen. I had a baby-”

“I KNOW! I fucking know! You had my baby, but now you don’t even want to fuckin’ shower with me! I get it- pregnancy was hard, and then giving birth was hard, and now being a mom is hard.” Carmy started staring at the ceiling while he expressed himself. He took a breath and turned to look at you; regret washed over him when he noticed you were on the verge of tears. “Baby, please don’t cry…” he pleaded as he knelt by the bed. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away before he could grab it, “Sorry, I don’t want to fuck you after taking care of your baby all day.” you spat. Carmy closed his eyes and took another breath trying to compose himself before saying something dumb, “How dare I fail to meet my wifely duties.” you angrily laughed as you stood up.

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared as Carmy got up. “Baby, I didn’t—" you cut Carmy off with a groan. “Shut up, Carmen. You don’t get to speak to me like that.”

Carmy sighed and stepped closer to you, as he reached out for your hips only for you to slap his hands away. “Don’t touch me.” you glared at him, “Fuck this.” Carmy muttered under his breath as he pulled his shirt back on over his head. “What do you mean ‘fuck this’?” you questioned as Carmy exited the bedroom, “I need air.” Carmy called back to you.

You moved to your bedroom window to see Carmy walking toward his car in the driveway. He got in and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket.

Send me your address.

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billyloomiswhore4 · 1 year

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Dark Habits | Billy and Stu x Reader

Warnings: petnames, (babe by stu, and baby by billy) Smut, consensual but not very safe, cheating, knife play, consensual cutting of the reader by the boys, fear play, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving). P in V, pussy slapping

anonymous asked:

I really liked your POV from the last ask, and I got inspired with a smut request from it if you're interested

Reader is Billy and Stu's childhood friend. She was there when they started having this sick fascination with gore and death and even "hardcore" interest when puberty hit them, making her end up being their "friends with benefits ", she isn't aware of their plan so when they got Tatum and Sydney as girlfriends she expected them to stop thier secret relationship but they still came back to her even though she knows it's bad to cheat, but they come back to her not only because they are obsessed with her and love her but also because she is the only woman who can handle thier Dark sexual habits, the fear with billy and the inflicting pain with stu.

a/n: im still struggling to figure out whats wrong with me but i felt bad for not posting, so i found this is my drafts and rushed to finish it up so im sorry if the end sucks its also not edited to again im sorry.

You’ve been their friend since before you can remember. You were there for everything. When their obsession with horror movies grew stronger. When your play fights got a little too rough, and they seemed to enjoy your fighting a little too much.

The first instance you could remember was when you were eleven years old. Billy and Stu were twelve. You had found a movie in your older siblings room. You can’t remember the title now but what you do remember was when it started, and got right off into the murder. It was intense, it looked a little too real but stu still complained about how blood wasn’t really that color. He’d been hunting plenty of times with his dad, when he was home, and knew what blood and insides looked like.

Billy though, was a different story. He seemed entranced, and even licked his lips at a close up of the victims face as she was being murdered.

Stu was ecstatic that he found a good movie that he hadn’t seen. They both loved it, maybe a little too much and that’s probably why the memory stuck with you.

The memories only got more and more intense from that one. The next instance was when you were fourteen. You were in the living room of Stu’s house, Billy sitting on the couch, and you and Stu were wrestling on the floor. He eventually got you down, your hands pinned above your head. He was squeezing your wrists a little too tight, and you winced. He grinned at this, and squeezed tighter.

“Ow Stu that hurts,” You whined, attempting to kick him off you. Billy’s attention was now on you and Stu, and Stu’s grin only widened. When he squeezed even tighter, fear flashed across your face. Billy had a frown on his face, but his eyes shone with something you’d never seen before.

“Stu, seriously that hurts.” You were serious now, and he quickly snapped out of it, letting you go and helping you up off the ground.

That moment you knew something was off about your best friends. It freaked you out a bit, the way Stu smiled at your pained sounds and Billy’s eyes when he realized you were afraid.

That wasn’t the last incident. But as you grew older, and learned more about your sexual desires, you realized you weren’t like other people. When watching movies with Stu and Billy, you often found yourself watching intently as the killer would tease their victim with the knife, dragging it across their chest or arm just to see them squirm. You wondered what it would feel like, what it would be like to be so afraid and at someone's mercy.

You let it slip before you could even think.

“I wonder what that would be like.” You immediately grew red. Both Stu and Billy looked at you, staring intently.

“Wanna try it?” Stu asked all of the sudden. Billy smacked him on the shoulder.

“You can’t just ask that, fuckrag.” Billy seemed a bit angry at Stu for suggesting it.

“I mean..” You trailed off, eyes pointing towards the screen in front of you.

“Wait, you’d actually want to?” Billy was shocked. And you tried to subtly rub your thighs together. Stu’s hand suddenly met your thigh, and you jumped, not expecting him to notice your minuscule movements.

“I think she wants it, Billy.” Stu’s cheshire grin was wider than you’d ever seen it before, and his eyes met Billy’s. They exchanged looks and it was all history.

That night changed your life. You’d laid down in Stu’s bed, and he brandished a pocket knife from his pocket. He trailed it from your collarbone and down to your thigh. You tried to hide how hot the cold metal against your skin made you feel. When he cut your shirt off, you’d gasped. Billy stared at your face, watching your eyes change from fear, to excitement to fear again. God did he enjoy it.

That started something between the three of you. You were in a sort of “friends with benefits” situation, though you never really clarified anything. It was heaven while it lasted, but soon Billy got with Sidney, and Stu started dating Tatum. You assumed the situationship was over, but how wrong you were.

–

You're sitting on your bed, it must be around midnight. There’s a tapping against your window. You don’t normally lock it, because before Sidney and Tatum, they liked to sneak in through your window. It added a certain fear into the situation, you never knew when they planned to bust into your room and take you as they pleased.

When they started dating the girls, you started locking it, worried that anyone could take advantage of your unlocked window. You assume the tapping sound was just the wind, but it got quicker in succession. So you stand, and walk to the window, looking out. You’re met with a disheveled looking Stu, and a frustrated looking Billy. You unlock and slide open the window.

“What are you guys doing here!” You whisper-yell at them, your arm resting against the healing marks underneath your clothes. Stu shoves you aside and makes his way into your room, Billy follows.

“We wanted to see you, duh.” Stu grins at you and Billy smirks with a look you know all too well.

“No, no,” You pause, watching them. “You’re with Sidney and Tatum. We can’t.” You insist.

Billy puts a frustrated hand through his hair, and you look at him, realizing that he’s hard in his jeans.

“There’s this whole thing…” Stu trails off.

“What, Stu?”

“Well- I was with Tatum. And we were gettin- y’know.” He makes a gesture that tells you that they were fucking.

You raise an eyebrow, your chest tightening at the thought of him and Tatum together. “When- uh. We were doing it, all I could think about was you, and how you look underneath me with my knife to your chest.” Stu’s hands make contact with your throat, his thumb resting right on your pulse point. Your heart beats faster at his confession, and you're sure he can feel it.

“Oh,” Your eyes flutter closed, and you take a sharp inhale of breath.

“We want you, Baby,” Billy’s voice is pleading. “Just forget about the girls, just for tonight.”

“You’re the only one who understands us, who will take everything we give you and thank us for it.” Stu stops to take a deep breath. “We love you, more than anything..or anyone”

You give in allowing Stu’s lips to connect with your own. Billy moves, removing his shirt as Stu backs you up towards the bed. The back of your knees connect with it, and Stu pushes you to fall onto the softness. He gets out of the way, allowing Billy to crawl in between your legs.

HIs lips meet yours and his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You don’t open, you know how much he likes it when you resist. His hand comes to your jaw, pressing his fingers in between the joints and your mouth opens. He slips his tongue inside, wrestling yours.

You don’t even notice as Stu pulls off his shirt, and pulls out the pocket knife he knows to keep in his pocket when he’s coming to see you.

Billy’s lips leave yours to grip the hem of your shirt and pull it up and over your head.The bandages across your hip come off next. Billy moves to pull off your pants and Stu straddles your thighs, pressing the knife against the skin of your other non-marked hip.

You hiss when he presses down, the knife cutting the skin of your hip. He groans when blood bubbles up to the surface, and he uses his thumb to smear it across the skin. He makes another one, quick but thin and leans down to lick it softly. Billy’s lips meet your neck, sucking harshly against the soft, supple skin.

Billy moves away from your neck and switches places with Stu. He quickly makes work of pulling down your underwear. Billy throws your legs over his shoulders and dives in, eating you out like it’s his last meal. He laps at your clit, his pointer finger going to your hole, and pushing inside you.

Suddenly, Stu is pressing the knife against your neck, and you quake in fear. Your thighs shake with stimulation as Billy looks at you through his lashes from between your thighs.

Stu shushes you when you open your mouth to speak, and trails the knife from your throat down between your breasts. He continues moving the knife down, and then he makes a particularly deep cut across your stomach.

It shocks you, he’s never done that before. Always in one spot so it’s easier to hide, and never that deep so it doesn’t scar as badly. This time, he’s trying to mark you, claim you as his. Because even if he has Tatum, he still wants you.

Billy stops completely, making you whine at the loss. He shimmies out of his pants and boxers, leaving him completely bare in front of you. He crawls between your legs, sitting back on his heels and pulling you against him. Your legs go over his hips, your cunt pressing against his hard cock.

Stu pulls off his pants and boxers as well, grabbing his cock and pressing it to your lips. You open up, allowing him to slip it in your mouth.

“Good girl..” he groans as his dick is wrapped in the warmth of your mouth. Billy gets jealous, as you’re staring into Stu’s eyes, seemingly forgetting about him. So he slams into you, making you moan around Stu’s cock.

“F-fuck,” Stu stutters, moaning as you work your tongue around him.

Billy pushes into you with quick, hard thrusts. You whine in pain as Stu’s fingers wrap in your hair, and he pulls on it, hard. Billy’s fingers slip down to play with your clit, before he pulls out completely, laying a quick smack against your cunt and then slipping back inside you. You moan in pain and pleasure, the sound vibrating against Stu’s cock.

He groans softly, shallowly thrusting into your mouth. He pulls out, with a pop sound. He strokes himself in front of your face for a moment, and then pushes back into your mouth.

Billy twitches inside you, rubbing your clit with his thumb. He thrust into you even harder, while you hollow your cheeks around Stu’s cock. Stu quickly falls apart, twitching inside your mouth and then releasing his spend. He grips your jaw, pulling out while Billy continues.

Stu pries open your jaw, and looks at the white substance as it trickles down your chin. He pushes your jaw shut.

“Swallow.” You obey, and then open your mouth to show him.

Billy falls apart quickly after, pulling out and cumming on your pussy.

They both fall on seperate sides of you, laying there. They pull you into their arms, and Stu closes his eyes.

Billy laughs, watching how quickly Stu falls back into the same old routine.

#billy loomis smut #scream 1996 smut #scream 1996 x reader #billy loomis x reader #billy x stu x reader #stu macher smut #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis fanfiction #slashers x you

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writeonwhiskey · 2 months

Text

the skz house: ch 23 (chan pov)

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i really loved writing from chan's pov. i hope you all enjoy this one!!

[ read chapter 22 here ]

Chapter Twenty-Three: Of You

You haven’t spoken to me in days.

A few months ago, this wouldn’t have bothered me at all. I would have been fine with it. I would have preferred it. Here I am now, silently pleading with you at the table to look at me. But you don’t. And it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said those things to you the other night. I shouldn’t have fucked you like that.

Seeing you hurt as a direct result of my actions has never been easy to accept. In the beginning I brushed it off as being necessary. After you bulldozed through the walls I had up, though, it felt impossible to reassemble them. I’m Humpty fucking Dumpty over here.

Should I have sent you away when you showed up at our house? Lee Know was in charge of the applicants, so I was floored seeing you walk in behind Seungmin that day. If I’d seen you amongst the candidates beforehand, I would have rejected it...maybe. I would have at least been able to spare you of the bullshit I put you through then, and again now. It’s unfair to you. I know it is.

But once you were here, I didn’t want you to leave. I pushed you away because I needed you to make the choice to go—I’m too selfish when it comes to you, I learned that quickly. I’ve never felt this way about anything before and I honestly don’t know how to cope with it. I feel whole when I’m with you in general, I feel invincible when I’m fucking you…how can this possibly be wrong?

Now I’m left hanging on to the tiniest of threads that connect us and I’m trying not to cling too hard for fear that it will snap from all the weight I bear in this. The thought of losing you terrifies me. And I know it’s inevitable.

I attempt to talk to you after dinner when I see you in the hallway. I want to apologize for my actions, but you cut me off.

“Don’t be. You’re right. We should want to do this and I’m going to give it a try.”

I feel consumed with rage at your words. I want to lash out and scream or punch a hole through the goddamn wall. But I don’t. I let you go.

I have to let you go.

On Sunday when you come to my room to grab your sheets, you don’t say anything. I deserve it though, don’t I? If I hadn’t taken that trip with you my father wouldn’t have grown suspicious. I wouldn’t have to give you up for the next two weeks when I already have so little time left with you. If I hadn’t opened up to you, this wouldn’t be so hard on both of us. And on top of all that, I’m the one who told you we should be open to this first. I’m reaping what I’ve sown.

Allie comes in a little while later to put her sheets on your bed. The sight of them there doesn’t look right. Neither does she.

I watch as she moves around my room, oblivious to my mood and making small talk. I’m responsive…I think. I will myself to feel some kind of emotion while looking at her—even if it’s just lust. She’s pretty, I could be attracted to her. If I call her over to my bed right now, she’d come. I could fuck her…but I don’t want to.

My ears perk up when she says she wants to spend the first night with me. As much as I want to object, I don’t. I can’t, really.

After dinner, I quickly shower and get into my own bed with the lights off before she returns. I can’t fall asleep, though. I’m thinking about you. Who are you staying with tonight? Are you sleeping in their bed?

I’m still wide awake when she comes back in, wearing just a towel. I can’t even be bothered to take a gander.

It disturbs me.

She shouldn’t be here.

“Chan? Are you asleep?” she calls out into the darkness.

I remain silent and still. I hear her change into her pajamas and climb in her—your—bed, and finally feel relaxed enough to actually try falling asleep.

She stays with Hyunjin for the next three days and it feels like a relief. I’d rather be alone. But…being alone, with my thoughts does little to help me. I can’t stop thinking about you. What are you doing? Is Seungmin being good to you?

As fucked up as my mental and emotional state are, on Jeongin’s birthday I can’t keep being a recluse. He’ll be offended if I don’t show up for a little while, at least. So, I join the others in the basement for drinks and karaoke. Drinking to drown my sorrows is not something I enjoy, but tonight I want to. Especially since Allie will be in my room. I don’t want to do anything I might regret—but have you?

I’m one drink deep by the time you come in with Changbin. You seem happy. He offers to get you a drink, which I don’t mind. Then he calls you his girl. Which I do mind.

At that, I finish what’s left in my cup and give myself another heavy-handed pour of whiskey to replenish it. Have you fucked him? I wonder. The thought makes me feel sick to my stomach. I can’t help but feel selfish. In this fucked up situation, I know none of these guys would do anything to intentionally harm you. I know you’re in good hands, but…fuck. I don’t want anyone else on this entire planet to have you.

As the night carries on, everyone’s having a good time and I’m sulking in the corner like a toddler that’s been forced to share his favorite toy. I don’t know how else to feel right now. I am used to seeing you be flirtatious with Hyunjin. Seeing you cuddled up to Changbin on the couch, though, makes me want to snatch you away from him and claim you in front of everyone. But I can’t.

I can’t even be mad at him. He means well. And when he gets up to perform, I’m left smiling at his antics. I couldn’t seriously hate any of them, even if you are involved. I’ve known them for too long. These are my brothers. At the end of everything, they’re the ones who will be with me the rest of my life. Not you.

“Chan-hyung!”

I’m ripped form my confuddled thoughts when Jeongin says my name. I immediately shake my head—I’m not in the mood.

“For my birthday,” he adds. “Stop being boring and old.”

I frown at that.

Then Lee Know is marching towards me, grabbing me by the arm, and pulling me to the other room. I don’t put up too much of a fight—I’m old and boring, after all.

“For your birthday,” I look pointedly at Jeongin to which he beams back at me. “What do you wanna hear?”

“That new song you were finishing up last week,” he says.

“No, not that,” I shake my head.

For my music production minor, I’ve been spending more time in the studio than usual. There’s no better way to get my feelings and frustrations out than through music. Tortured artist and all that.

“Yes, that. It’s my birthday.”

He’s really milking this birthday thing. He connects his phone to the speaker, and I silently curse myself for having sent him the song. Everything I’ve done lately has come back to slap me in the face.

The melody starts to play, and I let out a sigh, trying to shake my troublesome thoughts and get into performance mode. I turn to face the TV; I can’t look at you while I sing this.

“Got so many questions, you seek information. No need to be desperate, we’re just getting started.”

I started writing this song before we even took our trip, but only just booked the studio time to record it. The lyrics cut deeper now than when I originally wrote them. They reveal the way I’ve felt about you. The way I still feel about you.

This is bad, isn’t it?

Do you hate it?

Are you repulsed after the way I treated you?

As I continue singing, I turn around to face everyone. My eyes find you first. You seem taken aback—it’s understandable.

“Locked in sight, we’re in trouble. A lock and a key making rumbles. I know you want me, don’t crumble.”

I avert my gaze before the next lyrics. Looking at you and singing them will make me crumble. But I mean every single word. I never thought I’d meet someone that feels so perfect for me. Why did it have to be like this?

When the song is over, I pass the mic to Rhiannon and retreat back to the bar. You’re performing now. You’re smiling and happy…all the things I wish I could make you. But I can’t. I’m not allowed to. Not for real anyways.

My eyes are so focused on you that I don’t notice Allie until she’s snapping her fingers in front of my face.

“Earth to Chan—you okay?” she places a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m good,” I say, sitting up straight and drinking from my cup.

She’s standing between my legs. Again, I will myself to feel something…anything. Maybe not unbridled attraction, but at least a desire to fuck her. It doesn’t happen. I raise a hand to her waist to test it out, but it doesn’t feel right. I could kiss her right now, get it over with.

“I have class at 8 so I’m gonna head up. You coming?”

I shrug, dropping my hand from her waist.

“Come on,” she says, sliding her hand down my arm to my wrist.

I let her pull me off the chair and up the stairs with her. I guess I could go to my room with her. I probably should.

So, I do. I follow her up the steps, her hand still holding my wrist. We get to my room, and she shuts the door behind us.

“I’m gonna shower first,” I say, in hopes the steam will clear my mind up.

She releases my wrist and I retreat to my bathroom.

I should fuck her. I really should. Even though I don’t feel physically attracted to her, I can think of you to make my dick hard. Then I can fuck her and get you out of my head. I can end this turmoil.

The shower does little to make me feel better. Nothing can make me feel better.

Except you.

I spend far longer than necessary in there and when I get out, I’ve lost all conviction to sleep with her. As I re-enter my room, I’m hoping and praying that she has fallen asleep.

She hasn’t.

“Get some rest…I’m gonna go make a snack.”

“I can make you something,” she offers, pushing the sheets back.

“No, it’s okay—thank you, though. Go to sleep.”

She nods and pulls the blankets back over her.

Downstairs, I sit down on the couch and turn the TV on. I’m not even hungry. I just didn’t want to be in my room with her. I’ve never felt so hung up on someone before, it leaves me at a loss of what to do. If I fuck her, it would only be to help myself move on from you. I’m just not convinced it would work. And I’d hate myself after for it. But have you already moved on? The thought keeps plaguing me.

I remain in place, rooted to the couch, as the others start to file out of the basement. First Han and Charlotte, then Lee Know, then comes Changbin…and you.

He’s drunk. He has one arm slung over your shoulder, and both of yours are wrapped around his waist to support him. You help him up the stairs without so much as a glance in my direction. What are you going to do up there? I want to go up there after you, but I can’t.

The sounds coming from the TV start to annoy me. I mute it and stare blankly at the moving images. I don’t know how much time passes in silence. My attention is drawn to the stairs at the sound of footsteps coming down.

It’s you.

You immediately look away from me and proceed into the kitchen. I shouldn’t follow you. But I’m up and off the couch before I can stop myself. I’m drawn to wherever you are. I’m a magnet and you’re my true north.

With every step I take towards you the voice in my head—my father’s voice—is telling me to stop and turn around and I hate it. I hate that voice. I hate that it wants to steal the one piece of unadulterated happiness I’ve felt in years. You feel like bliss. You feel like hope.

He threatened to make you leave. I swear to God I nearly fucking broke right then and there. He can yell and berate me all he wants, but to threaten to take you away before our time is up? Out of the question. I put up a front, acted nonchalant about you.

‘She doesn’t mean anything, Appa.’

Lie.

You mean everything.

When I enter the kitchen, you’re grabbing water bottles from the pantry. I don’t have a plan, but I know I need to be near you, so I walk over to the pantry and wait for you to turn around.

The second your eyes land on me, all traces of feeling confused and lost leave my body. I’m found. My body is filled with the purest warmth, and I have to touch you to get more of it. I have to have you. You avert your eyes to the water bottles in your hand and I feel a pain in my chest.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask, placing a hand on your waist and pulling you towards me.

It’s an unfair question. You don’t know this inward battle I’ve been fighting since you showed up here. But I don’t know what else to say. It’s less of a question and more of a plea, really.

“I’m not doing anything,” you say softly. “I’m just…existing.”

“That’s all it takes, honestly,” I reply.

“Chan,” you whisper, shaking your head, eyes still on the water bottles.

You won’t look up at me. Why won’t you look at me? I need you to look at me.

I take a few steps back from the pantry and bring you with me. This is the most I’ve touched you in a week. I’m not letting you go. I hold your waist with one hand and use the other to grab the water bottles, two by two, from your hand and set them on the counter before returning my attention to you.

“I feel like I’m in shambles when I’m away from you,” I admit, hooking a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at me.

“You’re drunk,” you say, trying to push me away.

I hold on to you tighter, standing my ground.

“I miss you.”

You close your eyes and sigh, shaking your head again. You don’t believe me?

“You can’t.”

“But I do.” I say, bending down to nuzzle my face into your neck.

If you push me away again, I’ll take that as a sign. If you’ve made up your mind, I’ll have to live with it.

I wait for it, but it doesn’t happen.

Instead, you wrap your arms around my neck and pull me closer to you. I take in a deep breath and feel the stars align as the familiar smell of your skin ensnares my senses.

My hand leaves your waist and trails up your back, into your hair. I grab a handful of it and tug back on it. You look up at me with those soft fucking doe eyes that make my insides melt. The complete and utter trust you have in me. I can see it.

I smash my lips against yours, maybe too hard, but I don’t care. I want you. I fucking miss you.

You don’t hesitate to kiss me back, just as passionately. Do you miss me too?

I grab you by the waist and hoist you up on the counter as we kiss. My hands fumble at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. I want you so bad. Why am I nervous? And then, you’re helping me, leaning back and lifting your hips to push them down. I pull them off and toss them on the floor beside us. I scoot you to the edge of the counter and lower myself to my knees.

You tangle your hands in my hair as I rub my nose along your slit, inhaling my favorite scent. You smell so good, baby girl. I use my tongue on you next, needing to have you with all my senses. You throw your head back and let out a quiet whimper as I continue to fill myself with what I’ve been deprived of. What I don’t want to go without.

You.

My hands grip your thighs and as I’m licking, lapping, fucking you with my tongue, the emotions I so desperately willed myself to experience earlier surface. And I know then. I know I’m done for. How can I willingly give this up?

I stand from my knees and pull you off the counter, covering your mouth with mine again.

Do you like the way you taste on me? Your moan says yes.

“My cock throbs every time I see you, y/n,” I tell you, breaking the kiss as I turn you around, groping your breasts over your t-shirt. Your head falls back against my shoulder and litter the side of your neck with kisses. I pull you against me and press my hips against yours. I want you to feel how hard I am. How hard you make me. I could come in my pants right now, without even fucking you.

I’m helpless when it comes to you. Can’t you see that?

“Tell me to stop,” I plead, resting my cheek on yours and thrusting my hips against you again.

You shake your head and lean over on the counter, poking your ass out at me. You’re such a good fucking girl. I slap your ass with the palm of my hand, watching as it jiggles in the dimly lit kitchen. I grab a hand full of it, squeezing tightly.

I push my shorts and boxers down and grab my cock with one hand, holding your hips steady with the other. I rub my cock up and down your slit, groaning at how wet you are. Your pussy is always so wet and ready for me. Do you need me just as much as I need you?

“Every time before I fuck you,” I say, teasing your opening as you moan, “I tell myself I can live without it.”

I ease myself inside of you and we both let out the biggest sigh of relief at the same time.

“But I can’t,” I continue, slowly withdrawing. “I fucking can’t.”

I thrust myself back inside of you with as much force as I can and all hell breaks loose.

I realize the precarious situation we’re in. In the kitchen. But I could not care any less. My cock is home inside of you. This is where I’m supposed to be. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I keep thrusting into you and you fuck me back. You want me just as much as I want you, don’t you? But do you need me like I need you? I can’t ask you that, so I just fuck you harder instead. It’s not healthy to communicate this way, but I can’t bring myself to say these desperate words to you. You take each thrust of my hips without running away and I love it. I fucking love—

No. No. I can’t.

The sound of your hushed moans, combined with the knowledge that we could be caught at any second, have all of my nerves standing at attention. You grip the edges of the counter as I grip your waist, pulling you back against me as hard as I can.

Mine.

Right now, I don’t care if you’ve fucked Seungmin or Changbin or both. They can’t hold a candle to what we have when we’re together like this. That much I’m certain of.

You’re mine, y/n.

You stand on your tiptoes and arch your back. I grit my teeth, and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to shake off my release. I need more. But even with my eyes closed, I can picture how you look in front of me. I have every curve of your body memorized; do you know that? The dimples on your back that I love pressing my thumbs into when I grip your hips. The thought makes me growl as I pummel into you harder and faster.

You’re perfect. I need you to know that. With every thrust, every grunt, every moan. I need you to know.

“Chan,” I hear you say and my eyes snap open.

I see your hand buried between your legs, rubbing your clit and working yourself to an orgasm.

Yes. Please, baby girl. Come on my cock.

I feel your pussy, my pussy, clench around my cock as your legs start to shake and I let myself go too; thrusting into you with reckless abandon as I come.

I’m convinced there’s no better feeling in the world.

I��m glad you stayed.

I’m glad I didn’t see your name on the list before you showed up.

Your legs continue to quiver as I lay myself across your back, leaving my cock inside of you.

I don’t want to move.

I don’t want you to leave me.

[ read chapter 24 here ]

a/n: HOW ARE WE FEELING, MY LOVES? poor baby chan is stuck between a rock and a (constantly) hard place. i am so so so excited to hear your thoughts.

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dustofthedailylife · 2 years

Text

A Gift For You

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham, Cyno, Heizou x (gn!) Reader

Summary: They plan to give you something for White Day (Info: White Day is the counterpart to Valentine's Day where you usually get the person who got you something, something in return.)

Tags: Fluff, best friends to lovers, pining, mild cursing, very slight angst for Heizou and Cyno at first but also not really, they have good intentions haha!

A/N: This is my White Day gift for @feeblescholarmyass! I hope you like it :3

ALHAITHAM

Two knocks on the door of your office snapped you out of your work-induced haze.

You’ve been working non-stop on this project for the Akademiya for months now and have only been allowing yourself breaks to eat or sleep. Well, to be fair, sleep was negligible too, seeing as you only got around three hours of it per night for a couple of weeks now.

What didn’t help was that you just couldn’t get a hold of a super rare edition of a book that was practically essential for this paper. However, the physical copy was lost to the void of the library as it was never returned. And since the Akasha terminal no longer worked you also couldn’t fall back on that.

“Come in.” you answer, rubbing your eyes quickly in a futile attempt to make yourself look less tired. But deep down you knew there was nothing that could hide the deep purple eye bags you’d been carrying around like a designer accessory the past couple of weeks.

You continued to read through one of the many books on your desk as the door was opened quietly and you heard long strides approach your desk.

“Are you seriously still working on this?” a familiar voice asked reprimandingly.

You looked up into the face of Alhaitham who looked down at you in a less than amused and almost accusatory way. You genuinely didn’t have time for this now, as much as you would rather spend every free minute you had with him instead.

“Well yes, I am. Things have been going slower than I had planned and the deadline is breathing down my neck.” you sighed burying your head into the book you had been skimming through prior. “What did you want?”

“You are going to take a break.” Alhaitham remarks. This wasn’t a plea, he was leaving no room for protest. He snatched the book out of your hand and placed it on a table out of your reach.

“Hey! Alhaitham! You can’t do that. I need to finish this.”

“Yes, I can. And I will.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “When was the last time you ate?”

Well, damn. There was nothing you could hide from him, was there? He always saw right through you. Always had. One of the perks of being friends with a genius, you thought to yourself. And your silence following his question seemed to confirm his suspicions once again.

“Come on. Let’s go to the Tavern, I’ll treat you to lunch.”

You knew there was no point in resisting so you tagged along and unsurprisingly as always, he was right. Getting out of your cramped office and breathing in some fresh air was balm for your soul.

You sat down outside of the Tavern, both ordering a meal and talking about some recent research you both were interested in. Well, it was mostly just you ranting about your project and the sheer stress the lack of one certain book was causing you, but he listened to everything attentively.

You once again came to realize what an incredibly calming effect talking to him had on you. Despite how fast your heart started drumming inside of your chest every single time without fail. You suspected that he likely would never be interested in you beyond the friendly relationship you had with him and you didn’t mean to destroy what you both had by laying your feelings for him bare. So you simply kept them locked within your heart and simply basked in his presence whenever you could.

“Oh, since we’re on the topic. I bought something the other day. This is for you.” Alhaitham suddenly pulled a book out of his bag and slid it across the table. You only had to glance at the cover briefly before you realized what it was and your eyes became as wide as saucers.

“Th-this is… the super rare copy of Ancient Nomad Language and Symbolism! How did you–?”

You were awestruck. You had no idea how he managed to get his hands on a copy. It was as if this book had vanished from the face of the earth. Aside from the fact that you could no longer buy it either or just for an extremely inflated price. How in the world did he get his hands on this?

“Let’s just say, I have my methods.” he replied with a hint of a smug smile painted across his lips.

“How much did you pay for this? I promise I’m going to pay it back–”

“No need.” he shook his head to deny your offer. “Consider it a gift.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me.” you blurt out, almost brought to tears by this act of kindness. With this, your project was saved, and after so long you could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel.

“Well, in fact, I do. Considering that you didn’t shut up about this book for the better half of a month now and everyone you spoke to knew how much you wanted it.” he stated factually.

“Hey! No need to get all snarky with me now, when I just want to express my gratitude!” you chuckle and playfully roll your eyes, prompting him to smile smugly in a barely noticeable way once more.

“It was my pleasure. Besides, today is White Day, so it was only logical to get you something.” he remarks and he continued to drink his coffee entirely unbothered as if he didn’t just insinuate the most unbelievable thing you had ever heard. He surely misunderstood something here, right?

“Uhh–” you pause. “You know what this day is for right?”

“Naturally.”

You felt like your heart was about to jump right out of your chest any second. What did he mean naturally?! Was what you deemed impossible actually true and…

“Do you… like me?” you whisper, too scared and unable to speak any louder because it felt like all air had been knocked out of your lungs.

“Looks like you’ve finally caught on as well. I thought you’d never realize.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I repeatedly asked you out for lunch or dinner? Or why do you think I keep returning your books for you if you’re very capable of doing so yourself? Amongst other things.” he enumerated.

“Well yes, but that’s what friends do.” you retorted confusedly.

“Then let me spell it out for you.”

He put his cup down on the table and leaned forward. He stared deeply into your eyes before ushering three words you’ve always, deep down, longed to hear from his lips.

“I love you.”

CYNO

Three Matra ringing on your door at 10 in the morning was not what you had expected to see today, but here you were nonetheless. They had arrived just as you were about to head to the Akademiya for work but effectually canceled all plans you had made.

“Good morning?” you questioningly asked, raising an eyebrow at them. “Can I help you?”

“We would like to ask you to accompany us back to the Akademiya.”, they plainly stated, signaling you to follow them.

You quickly grabbed your keys and tracked behind them with unease pooling at the pit of your stomach and a violently beating heart.

What could the Matra possibly want from you? Did you conduct some illegal research? Did someone turn you in for plagiarism to save their own skin? Or did it have something to do with academic funds? As far as you were aware, the answers to all of these questions were no.

You didn't commit any serious academic offense to your knowledge and never planned to do so in the first place. But being called in by the Matra always had something to do with that, so naturally, you had a very bad feeling about this and couldn’t help but desperately try to find the answer to it in your head before you’d arrive.

You knew your best and long-time friend Cyno, was the General Mahamatra but even he wouldn’t show mercy if you seriously screwed something up. You knew he didn’t take academic offenses lightly - it didn’t matter who it was who committed them. He dealt out punishment equally.

The way to the office seemed like it was taking forever and many people along the way to the Akademiya threw you pitiful glances and were whispering as you were escorted by the Matra.

Once you arrived at your destination you were led into the General Mahamatra’s office. The Matra who had escorted you were bowing their head down once before they left you and Cyno, who was standing behind his desk, alone.

“There you are!” he stated, sounding surprisingly cheerful. Well, at least compared to usual anyway. He certainly didn’t seem sinister or as if he was out for your head.

He walked around his desk and came to a halt just in front of you. You slightly twitched as he put one hand on your shoulder and looked right into your eyes. This entire situation was odd, to say the least.

What didn’t help was that the warmth that radiated off his hand on your shoulder was entirely distracting to you right now and made the blood rush to your cheeks and your heart skitter in your chest.

“U-uhhh…” you stammered, unsure what to say or do.

“Do you still remember the special animated Genius Invokation card of Tighnari you got me last month?”

What? Was something wrong with it?

“Uhm… yes, of course, I do.” you reply, uncertain as to where this was leading.

He nodded as his lips curved into a small smile. “Follow me.”

You trailed behind him out of the Akademiya and along the streets towards the outskirts of Sumeru city. You remained silent the entire way, intimidated and unsure about his intentions. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was taking you and whether he was intending to exercise his judgment where no one was able to bear witness to it.

He came to a halt next to a small, run-down house at the border of the city and leaned against the fence there, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing below himself. You cautiously came to a halt as well, making sure you maintained some distance from him.

“So… w-what did I do?” you carefully inquired.

“Well,” Cyno cleared his throat as if he was struggling to find the right words. He stepped a little closer to you once again, taking your slightly trembling hands in his. “You stole something.”

“What? I did n–”

“You stole my heart.” he interrupted both your words and ability to form clear thoughts.

You parted your lips with the intention to say something but every word seemed to have died in your throat. You knew he was one to often speak cryptically so you were uncertain about the true meaning behind his words.

“What?”

He took a deep breath as if he was preparing to say something impacting before pointing toward the fence he had been leaning on with a dead-serious face.

“I fence-y you!”

At this point, you couldn’t help but chuckle. The hilarity of this entire situation was unbelievable. Not only did he have you worried sick he also chose to confess to you after years of pining with some stupid pun.

“Did you seriously lead me here just because there is a fence here?”

“Curses. I feared you would not understand… see fence-y sounds like fancy which means I–”

You quickly pulled him in by his neck and pressed your lips softly against his, successfully stopping him from explaining his joke. The feeling of his lips on yours was something you had dreamed of for so long. When he slung his arms around your waist the endorphins rushing through your bloodstream made your head swim and you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. You wondered if he felt the same.

“That was supposed to be my gift to you,” he remarked with a smile, leaning his forehead against yours. “but you beat me to it.”

You playfully punched his chest with a chuckle. “Idiot. You have no idea how much you had me scared to death with this entire scheme of yours. I fence-y you, too”

“Allow me to make it up to you again. Do you like raisins?”

You questioningly raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to this time.

“No? How about a date, then?”

Someone seriously needed to remind you again why you fell for this guy.

HEIZOU

You were walking through the streets of Hanamizaka to run some errands when you bumped into your long-time friend aka. the best detective in town. Or maybe even in the entirety of Inazuma.

“Would you look who it is!” you perceived the familiar voice coming from your right.

You turned your head only to spot the familiar tuft of auburn locks and the pair of mischievous green eyes that always made their owner look like he was up to no good.

“Heizou!” you cheered, hugging him tightly.

“It’s a good thing I run into you actually. I’m onto something and you’re just the person who could help me out.” he remarked.

“Oh, is that so?” you asked stemming your hands on your hips proudly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Indeed.”

“So, what do you need from me, Mr. Detective?” you tease.

“Alright. So, as you may or may not know it’s White Day. I’m looking for a present for someone since I’m going on a date, and I want to get something for them.” he explained.

You had to try your hardest to not drop your smile. It almost faltered just now, but you couldn’t let your disappointment show. He didn’t know you had feelings for him, so to him, you were still nothing more than his best friend. Obviously, he would come to you with something like this. It’s also on you for not telling him about your feelings for him, too.

As much as your heart ached while thinking about it, you simply had to try to be a supportive friend in this situation. Even if it would most likely prove to be a challenge. Both for your heart and also to hide your dislike about this from him, since he was generally very perceptive. It was in the job description after all and he was one of the best in his field.

“So what do you say?” he interrupted your train of thought. “Will you help me?”

“Sure!” you agree, faking a smile.

You followed him through the streets of Inazuma City walking past several restaurants and storefronts continually catching yourself getting lost in your own thoughts while he was talking.

Your mind was way too occupied with reproaching yourself for not opening up about your feelings. Would you still be able to look him in the eyes when you soon saw him with someone else by his side? Or would you be strong enough to still be as close to him as you are now, despite your aching heart? These were questions the future you would have to eventually find answers to, but for now, you decided you should focus on helping him.

“Which restaurant would be a good option for a dinner date?” he pondered tapping his chin with his index finger.

“Well, I do like Uyuu Restaurant just across the bridge from here. But then again, it tends to be rather crowded on holidays. So maybe Kiminami Restaurant instead? And quite honestly, the food is also better there in my opinion.” you advised.

“I see. Great!” Heizou cheered writing some things down in his notebook.

“So…” he began again after he was done taking notes. “Now for the present. I have no clue what to get them, yet.”

“Well, what a lousy detective you are if you can’t even sneakily ask them about what they would want.” you teased.

He raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest, acting playfully offended at your remark.

“Hey now! No need to get personal! Besides, that would only be the last resort! Anyway, hypothetically speaking. Imagine I’d get you something for White Day. What present would you want?”

For Archon’s sake, did he really have to have you imagine that? Getting a present from him on White Day would be a dream come true so he could practically get you anything and you would be head over heels for him all over again. But naturally, you couldn’t just outright say that.

“I don’t think this should be about what I would want. You should consider what they could want instead.”

“Hmm. I see your point. I could just ask them directly, I suppose?” he proposed tapping his chin as if deep in thought.

“No numbnuts! That’s not something you just ask them. It’s supposed to be a surprise, you know?”

“But then it may be even more important if you could give me an idea knowing what you would want. To gather some… inspiration, basically. I have to consider all possibilities after all.” he lightly bumped his finger on your forehead and smirked slyly. “So what would you want… jewelry? books? something to decorate your home with perhaps? Or maybe–”

“I fear I may not be of much help. I genuinely wouldn’t know what I would want.” you quickly interrupted.

Aside from wishing to be the object of affection of the man in front of you. But it was probably better if you buried that hope alongside your feelings for him once and for all.

What you were dying to say to him for a long time, had died in your throat the moment he told you he was going on a date. And as much as you honestly wanted to help him with this, you couldn’t recommend him something in good faith when it made your heart painfully throb the way it did right now.

“Hmmm.” he pondered looking at the ground with crossed arms. “That’s a shame, I’d immediately know what I’d want.”

“Oh? And what would that be, Detective?” you replied cheekily, quickly trying to distract yourself from the aching feeling in your chest.

“You.”

“What?” you falter.

“Do you happen to be free later?”

“Y-you–?”, you stammered.

“I set you up? Hmm, I suppose you could say I did. Sorry about that, but I had to find something out first.” he hummed, leaning in a little closer with a smug smile before whispering in your ear. “And I’m pretty sure I connected all the dots by now, did I not, sweetheart?”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #astronetwrk #giwhiteday2023 #genshin fanfic #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #heizou x reader #genshin x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin x gn reader #genshin x female reader #🍁 dust writes

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forjongseong · 1 year

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pine-fresh // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: slytherin!jay x gryffindor!fem!reader

genre: hogwarts!au, somewhat rivals to lovers, smut (minors dni)

warning: profanity, a lot of making out, fingering // word count: ~4k

summary: a dash of bickering and a whole lot of miscommunication in Potions class landed you and Slytherin's Park Jongseong in detention. did you ask for it? no. did you regret it? also, no.

author's note: at last, the Slytherin!Jay of my imagination has now, sort of, come to life...

ever since I came across that edit you see on the header, I've thought about him A LOT. now that his hair is actually silver, I have thought about him MORE. especially when @jaylaxies made this, which I thought about ALSO a lot... let's just say that Slytherin!Jay has been occupying my mind a lot more than I expected.

my knowledge on the HP universe is quite limited, so please excuse if some scenes don't seem too believable (like Snape somewhat being less strict here, or detention being scrubbing the bathroom). the title of this fic refers to the password that is needed to enter the Prefects' bathroom.

now, I know I say when I post oneshots I intend for them to be standalone fics, meaning that I most likely won't write a part two. but for this one??? if a lot of you like it, and a lot of you ask for it, I might be open to writing a sequel (once I conduct a lengthy research on Hogwarts grounds)

anyway, I hope you enjoy this little treat! I'm trying to shake off my writer's block, so please expect secretary!Jay to return soon.

taglist: @jaylaxies @excusememissiloveyou @thots4hee @end-hyphen @nyanggk @maggstar @bucketofhiros @shinkenprincess-oh @mydarlingjay @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @strawberrification12 @xiaoderrrr

permanent taglist is open! send an ask or DM if you want to be tagged.

As your House’s Prefect and one of the smartest students at school, you thought it would be impossible to dislike a class. Getting good grades in almost every subject seemed to prove that you liked learning everything, but by God, you hated Potions. Other than the fact that the lessons took place in a literal dungeon, which made it colder than any of the classrooms above, you always had to deal with the unpleasant smell of whatever was brewing in the room. Add the inconvenient detail that half of the class consisted of Slytherin students, which was more than you could tolerate.

You did not know when it started, maybe since the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor or when you witnessed one of your classmates getting teased by a Slytherin, but you had a strong aversion to anything related to that house. It became so bad to the point that whenever you got paired with a Slytherin for an assignment, all you wanted to do was to get the job done quickly for the both of you so you could leave the class as soon as possible.

“Miss L/N,” called Professor Snape. Your head snapped up and you locked eyes with him, somehow convincing him that you had been listening to all his instructions despite staring into the empty vials on your table. “Today you’ll be working with Park Jongseong.”

You nodded softly and once Snape turned his head towards another student, you made an audible groan and leaned back on your chair.

“You don’t sound so happy to be paired with me.”

Jay took the now unoccupied seat beside you and sat with a force that made his robe flutter. The flash of green caught your eye, and you hesitantly pulled your books to your side, making room for his on the table.

“I’ll handle the mixing,” you replied, completely unrelated to his remark.

Jay frowned before letting out a soft chuckle. “Wow, I guess you really aren’t in the mood today.”

You turned your head only slightly enough to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, and his response was just a huff to his face, messing up the silver bangs on his forehead. The sound of Professor Snape’s voice caught your attention, so you straightened up and listened intently, but also noticed how Jay was mimicking you. Once you were all instructed to begin, Jay grabbed his quill and started making notes for the recipe.

For the first couple of minutes, the process went well. You were mixing and adding stuff according to Jay’s dictation. However, after he misread the measurements for a certain ingredient, causing your brew to bubble uncontrollably, you began scolding him and blaming him for everything.

“What’s distracting you? How could you have misread that?” You half-shouted, a handkerchief in your hand as you attempted to clean up your surroundings.

“Maybe if you weren’t shaking so much when you’re holding the vials then I could have paid more attention,” Jay retorted, snatching a vial from your other hand to prevent more spills. “We should switch. You tell me what to do and I’ll redo everything.”

“That will take us even longer, and everyone else is already halfway done,” you complained as you looked around the class. You saw Professor Snape eyeing your table.

“Do you have another solution?” Jay asked, staring back at you.

You reluctantly agreed to switch tasks, but it turned out that Jay was worse than you. He kept spilling liquid, pouring more than needed, and overall causing more chaos than when he was just giving you instructions. Your grunts and groans were starting to gain the attention of the whole classroom, and by the time you were almost done, the bell rang.

The sound of your quill hitting your book was silenced by the footsteps of the other students exiting the classroom. They had finished their potions, and your table was literally the only one in the room that was still messy, with a mixture that looked too suspicious to be called a potion.

“I have been patient enough to let you two bicker the whole time, but for you to not finish making your potions,” Professor Snape said as he walked back to his desk, his cape almost floating behind him.

“Great, he’s gonna put us in detention,” you muttered to yourself.

“That is correct, Miss L/N,” Professor Snape continued. “Once you’re both done cleaning up your table, meet me in my office.”

The frown you wore on your face was so bad that anybody who saw you could easily tell that you were pissed, but between gathering the books and papers and wiping off spills with a cloth, you could have sworn you saw Jay smirking to himself.

---

As you placed a bucket of water in the middle of the Prefects’ bathroom, you sighed at the exhaustion that you felt despite not having even started your detention. You and Jay were both assigned to clean up the bathroom, which, despite only being restricted to use by the school Prefects, Head Boys, Head Girls, and Quidditch captains, was in an alarmingly grimy state.

You purposefully steered away from the side of the room with the toilet stalls and stood by the large, swimming pool-like tub sunken into the ground with bath taps surrounding it. The tub was drained, and you much preferred scrubbing it to cleaning all the toilets.

Jay was standing by the bath supplies on one side of the pool, staring at the different kinds of soap, bath oils, bath salts, shampoo, and conditioner. It took a while for him to realize you were glaring at him, basically waiting for him to start working already.

“Damn, it would be worth becoming a Prefect just to be able to use this bathroom,” Jay muttered, placing a small bottle of bath oil back in its place. “You must take baths all the time.”

You snorted, audible enough to make it echo throughout the whole room. “I don’t have time for baths.”

“Really? What a shame,” Jay sighed, rolling up his sleeves. “How long do you think it would take for us to finish?”

“If you keep using your mouth instead of your hands, probably a lot longer than I expect,” you replied without a pause, sounding annoyed.

Your snarky remarks did not bother Jay at all. In fact, it amused him, and the way he was laughing softly was not helping at all. He walked over to the stalls and finally began to work only minutes after you started.

“Today is really not your day, huh?” Jay’s voice echoed behind the stalls.

“Thanks to you, it’s not,” you answered, polishing one of the hundred golden bath taps that surrounded the tub.

“You know,” Jay started, only to pause to flush the toilet so he wouldn’t have to compete with the sound. “I have a feeling that you don’t like me.”

You rolled your eyes and moved your bucket to polish the other bath taps. Jay cleared his throat as he waited for your reply.

“Is it because I’m a Slytherin?” He asked. “I mean, it’s kinda unfair that just because I’m in this House, you automatically hate me—”

“I don’t hate you,” you finally responded. “Hate is a strong word.”

“Alright then,” Jay walked out of one stall and looked in your direction before entering the next stall. “So, what’s the story?”

You let out a heavy sigh and wrung out the cloth you were holding. It was a long story, you thought to yourself. You came from a family of Slytherins—both your parents and your older brother were—but since you were old enough to understand and remember things, you had always been the odd one out in your family. They would excel academically and go on to achieve things you never even dreamed of. Your interests were always different, and what got you far at school was thanks to your personality and smart work.

It was still a vivid memory to you, the moment you sat down and let the Sorting Hat analyze you. You thought you would hear a confident ‘Slytherin!’ from the Hat, but after a couple of seconds of deciding, it placed you in Gryffindor. Switching houses was never a thing, so you did what you could and made good friends, studied hard enough to make the professors notice you, and eventually, you earned the title of Prefect as you entered the fifth year.

Despite that, throughout the years in Hogwarts, you kept hearing and witnessing stories about Slytherins, how they always happen to achieve so much but at the same time are notoriously problematic. The house you once dreamed of being a part of quickly became one that you were relieved to be excluded from, but somehow, the longing remains.

Around your third year in Hogwarts, you began hearing chatter about Park Jongseong. He became popular, it seemed, after he was assigned to be the Keeper of Slytherin’s Quidditch team, and also after he had an insane glow-up. You then noticed that he was the quiet nerd who used to bury his nose in whatever book he was reading in a dark corner in the library, but since then, he had ditched his glasses and styled his luscious silver locks in a way that—

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Jay’s voice woke you up from your extensive daydreaming, and it made you realize you were polishing one bath tap for way too long.

“How long were you polishing that tap?” Jay asked, tilting his chin towards your hand.

His question spooked you, and you were beginning to think he might have heard your thoughts. You cleared your throat before moving to the next tap. “Not long, why?”

“Because I’m done with all the toilet stalls, and I noticed you haven’t moved an inch.”

Well, that’s embarrassing, you thought. How long exactly did you zone out for?

“Should I start cleaning the pool’s floor then?” He asked, fixing his folded sleeves before squatting down and then jumping into the empty pool.

“Sure,” you said, immediately picking up your pace and trying your best not to steal any more glances in his direction.

“Listen,” Jay began, both his hands firmly holding a mop. “You got really silent after I asked a question, so I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. We can continue to work in silence if that’s what you prefer.”

You smiled as you moved on to the next tap. “It’s fine. I was just tired.”

You refocused on your own task, determined to leave the bathroom spotless, but after a moment, you noticed Jay moving oddly around the pool floor, dragging his mop in a way that was not normal. When you lifted your head to look at him, you saw that he was singing, no, lip-syncing a song and using the mop as a mic stand, completely immersed in his imagination but being considerate not to bother you with noise.

At this sight, you burst out laughing. Jay stood up straight and turned his heel to face you, looking surprised.

“Please,” you said after you contained yourself, “do continue.”

“Miss Prefect,” Jay sighed, “this bathroom is way too huge for only two of us to clean. Do you think we can sneak out and get our wands from Snape’s office?”

You shook your head. “The door is locked with a password.”

“But you’re Miss Prefect,” Jay said, matter-of-factly. “Don’t you know the password?”

“He literally changed it after leaving us here with these cleaning supplies, Jay. I don’t know the new password.”

Jay paused and for a moment you thought he was figuring out a way to escape, when in reality, his stomach just did a backflip from the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“So, what you’re saying is there is literally no way to get out of this bathroom unless we finish cleaning it?” Jay asked.

“That is the point of detention, yes,” you replied, shrugging.

Jay groaned and turned around, pushing his mop and reluctantly continuing to clean the pool floor. You were almost halfway done with polishing all the bath taps, and you sighed as you looked at all the mirrors waiting to be scrubbed clean too.

After a while, Jay finished scrubbing the floors, and you began to wonder if you should have taken his work instead since the bath taps seemed like a never-ending task to complete. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first few buttons on his shirt, making you quickly look away.

“Should I help you with the bath taps or start doing the mirrors?” Jay walked over to your side before pushing himself up the edge and then standing up, towering over you.

“Mirrors, please,” you answered, this time tilting your chin to point at the direction of the sinks.

“Really? Because you seem like you’re taking your sweet time polishing all those taps,” Jay said, tilting his head to one side.

You looked up at him and he had this teasing, lop-sided smirk. Meanwhile, the unintentional doe eyes you were giving him made him almost choke on his own saliva.

“Just do the mirrors, Jay.”

You saw him smile the second you finished your sentence, and when he turned his back to you, it somehow looked like his shoulders were happy. He stood in front of the sink and did a quick count on the number of mirrors he had to clean. You saw him start from the far left, where one of the mirrors was cracked on the edge.

“Be careful with that one. Ravenclaw’s Head Girl almost—”

“Fuck!”

You heard Jay groan as he stumbled a few steps back, wincing in pain and shaking his left hand.

“Jay,” you sighed, standing up and throwing the cloth you were holding to the floor. “I didn’t even finish my sentence.”

You walked up to him and stood before him with your hand out. He looked at you questionably before lifting his left hand for you to take a look.

“Is it bad?” He asked, slightly looking away. “I don’t like the sight of blood.”

“That explains a lot,” you muttered, placing your hand carefully over his. “Oh, my God.”

“What? What is it?” Jay asked, his right hand shaking in panic.

“Your fingers are so thick and stubby, like cocktail sausages.”

Jay snorted before pulling his hand away and you giggled.

“It’s just a scratch,” you said in an attempt to calm him down. “You can carry on.”

“Well, do you have something I can use to treat it?” Jay asked.

You were already sitting by the edge of the pool to continue with your polishing. “Do I look like a walking first aid kit to you? Just spit on it and move on.”

Jay looked at you, unsure of your advice. He then turned around and decided to wash his hands with soap. The suds obviously stung, so he was flinching and wincing quietly, but he could see you giggling silently from your reflection in the mirror in front of him.

“Do you really mean it?” Jay spoke, looking at you through the mirror.

“Mean what?”

“That I have stubby fingers,” Jay clarified.

You were unsure what to make of his tone. He sounded curious but also hurt, or maybe…

“So what if you do?” You asked back, not paying attention to him.

The strands of your hair were becoming loose and covering your eyes, and you were dying to fix the scrunchie on your ponytail, but both your hands were wet and occupied with polishing. You kept huffing and puffing and even attempting to move your hair using the movements of your shoulders until Jay sneaked up behind you and tapped you on your arm.

“Here, allow me,” Jay said calmly, tugging on your scrunchie.

You sat up straight and let him pull your scrunchie off, letting your hair cascade to your back. He began brushing your hair with his fingers before gently bunching it into a ponytail. He skillfully tied your hair up into a bun that was less messy than before. You were about to thank him, but he moved from behind you and jumped back into the empty pool, standing in front of you and tucking the loose strands of hair behind both your ears.

His fingers brushed against your ear, and for a moment, you were lost in his eyes. The next thing you felt was his hand behind your neck, pulling you closer as he stood in between your legs, his lips crashing against yours. You sighed as you let yourself be enveloped in his warmth—his tongue tugging yours, his lips devouring yours, his palms pushing against your back, and his breath mixing up with yours.

You felt his hand travel lower down your back, settling on your ass before he pushed you closer to him, earning a soft yelp from between your lips. His mouth detached from yours only to give you a sly smirk before he dove back into you. Your hands rested comfortably on his shoulders as you gave into his every move, and when you felt one of his hands grazing the exposed skin of your thigh from the gap between your skirt and your knee-high socks, you gasped.

“Wanna see what these fingers can do?” Jay asked, speaking right against your lips.

Your eyes searched for his before you nodded a little too eagerly. He chuckled before sliding his hand between your legs and under your skirt. His fingers easily found their place on your clothed cunt, and despite his gentle moves, you could not hold in your moans.

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands bunching up his shirt.

“Oh, I like it when you say my name like that,” he teased, leaving a wet peck on your chin. “Can you say it again?”

He pressed his thumb on your clit before sliding it down your folds, and he could already tell that you were soaked. You were biting your lip, and he chuckled, bringing the same hand that was caressing you up and towards your chin.

“Come on, now,” Jay cooed. “Prefects are usually good students. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

His thumb slid upon your bottom lip, and you could almost sniff the scent of your own arousal. You were trembling at this point, desperate to feel more of him, so all you could give as a response was a nod.

“Say my name.”

“Jay—”

Your voice was muffled as he slid in a finger when you opened your mouth. You instinctively sucked on it before he entered another one, and then he hurriedly placed his hand back between your legs, pushing your panties to the side before easily sliding those two fingers inside of you.

“Jay!” You moaned loudly, spreading your legs wider so he could do whatever he wanted to do to you comfortably. Your fingers reached for the back of his head, pulling on his silver locks before you pushed his head to your neck. He began licking the soft skin under your chin before placing wet kisses down your neck. With one hand, you unbuttoned your top and pulled your collar open, giving him more access to your skin. He sucked on your collarbone softly and, at the same time, curled his fingers inside of you.

You repeatedly moaned into his ear, and at some point, you thought you sounded way too pathetic, but the way Jay was thrusting his fingers in and out of you and the way the squelching sound was echoing throughout the whole bathroom made you believe that the sounds you were making were actually quite tame.

“Jay,” you sighed. “Oh, my God.”

Jay lifted his head from your neck and flashed you a proud smirk before leaning in to kiss you again. You whined at the contact, and as your hands found his face, you began to caress him, pull him, and do whatever was necessary to send the message that you wanted him bad.

You felt the increasing pace of his fingers between your legs, and you began to feel the ache in your ass for sitting on the edge of the pool for too long. Jay pressed his thumb on your clit, and you threw your head back in pleasure, grabbing onto his biceps for support. When your moans started to sound higher and more in sync with the movements of his fingers, Jay leaned in and pressed his cheek onto yours before speaking right into your ear.

“Cum for me, will you?”

The deep tone and gentle vibration of his voice sent shivers down your spine, and with that, you finally reached your high. Your legs were shaking, and to soothe you, Jay began kissing your cheek softly. He kept kissing you and moving towards your lips, giving you a long peck before moving down to your chin and neck. He kissed the parts of your skin that were beginning to turn purple, and once he heard your leveled breathing, he pulled away to take a good look at you.

“Good girl,” he said right to your face.

You playfully, and very gently, slapped his face. He let out a wholehearted chuckle before pulling his hand from between your legs. Just seconds later, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom door. Your eyes widened, and Jay quickly registered the situation. He fixed your collar for you to button up before he sprinted back to the mirror he was supposed to be polishing while you frantically searched for the abandoned cloth that you had been using the whole time.

“Why am I not surprised that you haven’t finished cleaning the bathroom?” Professor Snape stated after scanning the area. “It’s almost curfew, so wrap up and continue cleaning tomorrow. I’ll consider your detention done once this place is spotless.”

You stood up and observed as Professor Snape reached into the pocket in his robe and took out your wands. After he handed them over to you and Jay, he turned around without further question and left the bathroom. Jay looked at you, and you sighed in relief, almost collapsing to the floor because of your weak knees, if not for Jay holding you up by your elbows.

“That was too damn close,” you commented, standing uncomfortably since your panties were not fixed the right way.

“I’d say it was exciting,” Jay said, leaning into you and sniffing your neck.

“Jay, stop it,” you said, placing your palm firmly on his chest.

“That’s not what you wanted me to do when I had these stubby fingers inside you,” he teased, raising his hand and wriggling his fingers in front of your face.

You smacked his hand away, and he cackled, almost making the room shake from the echo.

“We still need to come back tomorrow and whose fault is that?” You asked, your back turned to him as you were tidying up the supplies.

“Fault?” Jay tilted his head. “No, favor. You’re missing the point. We get to come back here tomorrow.”

You stood up straight before turning to face Jay. He boldly took a couple of steps towards you, closing the distance and pulling you by your waist to press your body against his.

“Are you honestly telling me you’re not looking forward to it?”

With Jay’s arm firmly around your waist, the heat of his body against yours, his eyes boring into yours, and his silver hair messy from the way you were pulling on it earlier, there was no way you could lie to his face.

“Okay, I am looking forward to it,” you said after gaining enough courage. “Maybe instead of your stubby fingers, you can show me something else.”

Jay’s eyes twinkled at your daring tone, and you both chuckled before letting each other go, nagging at him as he collected your supplies while shamelessly ogling your body.

-END-

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!!! do NOT copy, translate, or repost any of my work to your blog or ANY other platform.

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chaos-in-deepspace · 2 months

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L&DS Xavier: Bunny Tears | 18+

So anyway Kirakanjo posted another piece of art with Xavier in it and I went absolutely FERAL once more. So not only did I write a Xavier pegging fic again...I edited it. Y'all I put effort into my writing which never freaking happens. Them images be doing something to me and I need to write it.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Xavier x Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Blow jobs, hand jobs, men crying, submissive Xavier, pegging, cum eating ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: Xavier has once again managed to almost burn down the kitchen, leading the two of you to be covered in ash. A small suggestion to shower together leads to a little bit more...but really who's surprised by this turn of events? ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Word Count: 8k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Bunny Tears

You looked over at Xavier from behind the couch, your entire body a little tense. He had insisted he was going to cook, something that made you nervous and on edge. The man had gotten a little bit better after your mission when he was masquerading as the perfect house husband, but you were still weary about it; your eyes never left his figure as he hummed. It was only when he opened the oven that you felt your stomach drop.

“Xavier?” your voice was hesitant as you looked over at him. The man turned, his fluffy hair catching the sunlight and creating a halo effect around him. For a moment he seemed like a true angel…which at times he was. In this exact moment though he was closer to a devil who was about to lay ruin to his own domain.

“Yes?” he seemed so calm, so gentle as he looked over at you. Those pretty blue eyes shining in the light and you almost felt bad for not trusting him with the simple appliance.

“How about I go ahead and do that part,” you were already standing up when his voice stopped you.

“Don’t worry, I made sure to read the instruction manual on this oven. I have it all covered, you just sit back and relax,” he assured you, but his words refused to calm your nerves, “Dinner will be ready soon.” he promised.

You reluctantly sat back down, but your eyes never left his figure. He went back to humming some tune you didn’t know, placing the tray inside the oven and closing it up before hitting a few buttons. From your angle you couldn’t see what was on the tray, nor the buttons he selected. You could only hope things went smoothly.

It took about ten minutes before your fears were realized. You shouldn’t have been surprised to see it, but honestly it was like fireworks. Whatever was inside of the oven literally exploded and made a loud bang noise that shook the room; you just stared at it with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Xavier, who had been watching this monstrosity cook, was also staring at it. He seemed more confused if anything and after you both watched it you realized somebody had to kick it into gear.

You vaulted off the back of the couch and began rushing into the kitchen like your life depended on it. There were already flames and you had no idea how this was even possible in only ten minutes. You grabbed the fire extinguisher from underneath the sink and managed to snuff out the fire in record time, then quickly went over to shut the damn thing off before anything else could happen. You were panting as you stared at the now burnt oven, then back at Xavier who had opted to just watch the entire thing with wide eyes.

After a moment of silence you finally managed to get out, “Xavier…what the fuck?” you looked between him and the ashes. Xavier finally seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, walking over to you and the oven. He placed a hand over your waist, probably about to apologize and make everything alright when the next series of unfortunate events happened.

The food that Xavier had managed to cook had become char in the oven, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the center of the lump to explode and propell said ashes all over the surrounding areas. The explosion also managed to ricochet the powder from the fire extinguisher that had been coating it, making a beautiful plume of every chemical that shouldn't be in your lungs.

It had you coughing and hacking, “The window! Get the window!” You called out to Xavier, not even capable of seeing through all the smoke. Xavier’s frantic footsteps could be heard as he dashed towards the nearest window in the kitchen, the latch clicked open as it was unlocked and thrown open in a flurry.

“Come on,” Xavier’s voice had the nerve to sound worried as he wrapped strong arms around you, lifting you up and carrying you out of the main area of the explosion where particles still lingered. Once safely in the living room, you hacked and coughed some of the smoke out of your lungs then looked over at Xavier. You were opening your mouth to begin a long and drawn out lecture, but he managed to beat you to it.

“I’m sorry…” He said, his voice a gentle lull that made all your anger about the situation dissipated. You let out a small sigh then took in his appearance. His pristine skin now had smatterings of ash all over it and you couldn’t help but laugh. He looked like he had just come back from a battle against some wanderers with how the dark soots clung to his hair and face and slowly fell to the ground whenever he moved.

“Xavie…” You said with amusement in your voice, “You got a little…” you pointed over at his nose where some of the ash was smudged. He looked at you with a similar look in his eyes.

“I’m not the only one,” He pointed out, reaching over and swiping his thumb over your cheek, “We’re both messes right now,” he sighed, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. His hands now on your waist as he looked into your eyes with a lovestruck expression.

“Oh I wonder whose fault that is,” you teased, shaking your head, “We need a shower and a change of clothes. We can order some food afterwards,” it was a suggestion that you were certain Xavier would be all for. It would also give you two an opportunity to clean up the mess in the kitchen while you waited for dinner…it wasn’t something you looked forward to as your eyes glanced behind Xavier to see that there was still stuff floating about in the kitchen.

“That sounds nice…should we open some more windows?” Xavier asked after he followed your gaze. Everything was destroyed and you were certain there might’ve even been some neighbors in the hallway staring at the door with all the commotion this had caused. The only difference this time was the fire alarms weren’t blaring to alert everyone in the complex that this man hadn’t a single clue about how to cook.

Honestly you were damn happy you managed to uninstall his fire alarms. Was it a violation to the apartment contract? Without a doubt, yes. Did you care? No. You would actually cry if you had to hear those alarms going off anytime the man thought he could cook, a sentiment you were sure was shared amongst everyone living nearby.

“Ya, let’s open every available window for now,” you said, “Then it’s shower time,” you were already heading towards the living room to get to work. It only took a few minutes to get everything open, and Xavier even went so far as to open the ones in his bedroom as well, just in case. The gentle breeze that blew into the apartment was already making it easier to breathe in.

Once all was said and done, Xavier had come back up to you, “If you’d like, you can shower first,”. You couldn’t help yourself, he was just too sweet and adorable when he gave you those eyes and put your needs before his. Your hands cupped his cheeks and you dragged him down for a quick kiss. He let out a confused noise from the back of his throat, but ended up leaning into you like he always did. His body melted into you everytime your lips touched and right now was no different; his hands gently placed on your hip, his lips gently grazing your own.

When you parted you looked up at him, “How about we shower together today?” showering was something you two didn’t partake in too often as the shower wasn’t huge, but in moments like these it made sense. You both desperately needed to clean up.

Xavier’s grip on your hips tightened in response as he then leaned down quickly for another soft press of your lips and smiled, “I like the sound of that,” he took your hand into his own, his thumb grazing against your knuckles. It was tender as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles before giving it a proper hold.

He began leading you through the apartment, gently tugging you along and squeezing your hand until you arrived in his restroom. It was just big enough for the two of you to comfortably be inside at the same time. The room looked like a perfect combination of the two of you, a few of your personal belongings scattered about. Xavier had insisted you kept things over here despite how you lived right below him. You assumed he liked having pieces of you in his life, and you could relate.

The moment you began undressing you realized that your current attire was absolutely ruined, no amount of washing would fix that. As you began working your pants off your eyes trailed over to your boyfriend. Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect as you watched him take off his hoodie in one swift motion, revealing the expanse of his muscular chest. You had to pause for a second, taking in the sight. You didn’t know how someone could be sculpted so perfectly, but here Xavier stood, like a greek statue come to life. Except…

Your eyes turned down to him unzipping his pants…ya that certainly wasn’t like any of the statues you had seen. He had stopped in his motions and your eyes went back up to see him looking directly at you. One of his eyebrows rose as he noticed how your eyes were practically glued to him. You were completely unashamed of your actions and when you noticed his eyes quickly flickering over your form you smirked.

“Why’d you stop, I was enjoying myself,” You teased him, slowly making your way to the shower. You turned it on and sat at the edge, leaning on the wall as your gaze went back to him, “Go on,” you encouraged. Now you were making a show of how you looked at him, even going so far as to lick your lips. You could see the way his body shuddered under your gaze and it was already starting to set the mood for something else.

Xavier looked at you one more time before his hands went back to his half open pants. He slowly worked them open and hooked his fingers into the edge in a seductive fashion, eyes quickly flicking to yours to make sure you were watching. You watched the shuddered breath he took in as he worked his pants and briefs off, for a second the briefs got caught on the half hard bulge. You fought back the urge to tease him, knowing just how his body reacted when around you. This shower was probably going to last a little bit longer than expected, but you certainly didn’t mind.

Once he was fully undressed he approached you, taking your hand once more as he led you into the shower. Like the gentleman he was, he made sure you were directly under the showerhead. His hands went into your hair, massaging your scalp as he worked out some of the ashes. The water poured over your face as you closed your eyes, feeling his hands rubbing off the dirt and debris for you. You briefly felt his lips ghosting over your own, but when you opened he was just looking at you with that innocent smile as though he didn’t do anything.

“Xavier…” you murmured, wanting to drag him back down for a proper kiss, but he needed to be cleaned up first. With your hands on his shoulders you were able to spin the two of you around, the motion fluid with the amount of times you had done this. He didn’t fight you on it, instead sighing as he got under the running water. He turned towards it, letting it splash onto his face and hair as he washed himself, leaving you to watch him.

The way the water trickled down his back teasingly, his back muscles moving with every motion…it was so tantalizing. He managed to be sexy without even trying and you knew for a fact you didn’t want to hold back for even a second longer. As soon as you were certain he was cleaned up, you took a step forward, wrapping your arms around his front and pressing your face between his shoulder blades.

Your lips gently grazed his shoulder blades as your arms held him tighter to your body. A shiver went down his spine as he craned his neck around to look at you. “Did you need something?” he asked, his voice as sweet and gentle as it always was.

You let out a satisfied hum at his question, you pressed another sweet kiss into his shoulder before speaking up, “You’re so pretty, Xayxay,” you muttered contently against him. Your grip loosened a bit as you nuzzled your face into him..

Xavier understood what you wanted, turning around in your arms. You wasted no time, leaning up and pressing your lips against his own. Once more he began melting against your mouth as he sighed as though your lips were the only thing he needed in life. Xavier let out a small gasp once he felt your tongue prodding at his lower lip and he easily opened up, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth. Xavier always tasted sweet to you, something so uniquely him as your mouth explored his own.

Xavier’s groan echoed along the shower walls, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Your bodies were pressed together as one of your hands grasped his hair, keeping him right where you wanted him. The loud smacking of lips reverberated in the small room as you drank in the man before you, enjoying every brush of his tongue against your own as your thighs pressed together.

You felt his cock twitching against your stomach and you smirked against Xavier’s mouth. Your free hand running down his chest until you were tracing the lines of his Adonis belt teasingly. You parted for only a second and looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Getting excited?” you asked with a smirk, your hand now trailing even lower until you were cupping his dick. He let out a small groan, his hips rolling up into your hand in response. You grasped his dick, giving a few experimental tugs on him, watching as his mouth dropped open and he stared down at you, “I wanna hear you, sweetheart, want you to tell me exactly what you want,”

“O-okay,” he managed to moan, “Please keep…” your pace got a little bit faster at the sound of his pleading. The smallest whimper escaping him, his voice got caught in his throat as the only thing he was focused on was your hand pumping his cock with the perfect pressure that had his mind reeling.

“Keep what?” You cooed, loving how responsive this man always was. His breathing began mixing with the loud noises of your hand expertly working his cock. Your thumb swiping some of the leaking pre cum that was threatening to drop onto the shower floor, “Come on, I wanna hear you,” you teased, placing a small nip to his jawline..

He leaned closer to you, his hands grasping your hips as he rolled his own up into your waiting hand, “Keep…touching me,” his voice sounded breathless and you could feel how he twitched in your hand. To think he would be this quick to cum just from a simple hand job. You absolutely adored this side of Xavier, when he completely gave in to you and became such a good and submissive boy. This side of him was reserved only for you which is exactly why you enjoyed drawing it out of him.

“Alright, pretty boy,” you cooed, your hand now speeding up. Your only goal at the moment was to get him to cum, and with how his hips were jerking he was seconds away. His head bent down into your shoulder as he let out a small whine. The pelting of the water against his back was the only thing grounding him at the moment as he finally gave in to the pleasure.

You looked between your bodies and watched as ropes of cum erupted from the head of his cock. The thick fluid coated your hands and splashed between your bodies, some of it getting right onto your stomach and dripping down between your legs. Xavier seemed to have noticed this too, another lewd moan coming from the back of his throat as he rolled his hips a few more times into your waiting hand, letting his spend wash over the both of you.

You let him relax against you for a moment, your fingers playing with some of his cum that was now coating your palm and fingers. A thought crossed your mind and after Xavier’s breathing started to even out, you used your shoulder to gently nudge him off you. He stood back up, looking down at you with a gentle flush coating his cheeks that seemed to darken as you brought your hand up to his mouth.

“Want a taste, bunny?” You asked, the cum slightly smearing on the corner of his lips as you swiped your thumb over his mouth. You watched how his eyes widened a fraction as what you were asking. He looked at you for a minute more, weighing his options as he felt your finger pressing a little harder on his bottom lip, a silent command to open.

He complied, opening his mouth, his tongue darting out and licking his essence off your palm. He groaned at the taste, and you smirked as he lapped up his own release. HIs pink tongue licking between your fingers as he worked on making sure it was completely clean. When most of it was gone you pressed two fingers onto his tongue, pressing down as his jaw opened for you to look in his mouth. You could see a little bit of the white on the tip and you glanced back into his eyes.

“What a good boy, now make sure to swallow it,” you said and watched as he closed his mouth around your fingers, giving them a gentle suck as he swallowed his own load. You took your fingers out of his mouth and reached behind him, turning off the shower and looking up at him.

“What a good boy…” you murmured, your hand on his shoulder as you coaxed him to follow your lead, leaning down and kissing him again. Xavier groaned against your mouth as you pressed your tongue back into his, able to faintly taste his release. His grip on your hips tightening for a second as you parted as though he didn’t want you to go. He looked so damn handsome like this and you swore you were falling in love all over again.

“We should…” he trailed off and you knew exactly what he was implying. Without the running water it was starting to get chilly. As much as you watched to watch his nipples pebbling up from the chill, you did want to get warmed up.

“Alright, come on,” you said, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips before taking his hands off your hips. You took his larger hand into your own, dragging him out of the shower. He was smiling at you, allowing you to pull him in any direction you wanted. You took a towel and wrapped it around his waist, forcing him forward and into your body once more, “How about after we dry off a little…” you began suggesting.

You didn’t even finish your train of thought as Xavier nodded, “Yes please,” he quickly said, not even an ounce of shame with how desperate he was for you. You chuckled as you wrapped the fluffy towel around his waist and grabbed your own. The two of you fell into a rhyme together, practically dancing around one another as you worked on getting yourselves dried off.

Once you were somewhat dry you two left the towels abandoned on the floor. Hand in hand as you made your way into the bedroom, bumping into one another like excited teens doing something naughty. The way Xavier kept gazing down at you like you were the one who hung every star in the sky.

The moment you came to the bedroom you were gently pushing him down onto the mattress, your hand on his chest. He didn’t fight it, allowing you to crawl on top of him, your lips meeting again and Xavier’s hands threaded through your hair, gently playing with it as he kept you against him. If there was one thing Xavier loved, it was kissing you. It was like oxygen as your lips perfectly melded together every single time, sending a tingling sensation to the back of his head and making him shiver. He could never get enough of you as you gently bit down on his lower lip, requesting access once more.

You parted your lips from him, opting to look down at the man as your hair dripped onto his body, “Xavier,” you began breathlessly, catching his attention, “I still wanna play a little bit,” you murmured, catching his attention at the way you said it. You had the smallest pout on your lips, although he could tell with how your eyes were gleaming that something sinister was brewing in your mind.

Still, he was a weak man, and if you said jump he’d ask how high and to where. “Alright, if that’s what you want,” he said, his voice wavering only slightly. He had hoped you would just ride him, or maybe let him flip you over, but if you wanted to play with his body then he’d allow you. As long as you didn’t tease him too much he let you do whatever you wanted.

“Thanks babe,” you leaned back up to kiss him quickly before your lips began pressing along his body. You could hear his breath hitch as your lips trailed down his neck and to his chest. Your tongue lapping at one of his hardened nipples before latching on. His back arched into you just from the simple.

“W-wait,” he moaned out, feeling how your tongue swirled around the hardening bud. You let out a hum, looking up at him while your other hand went to play with his other nipple. You waited for him to continue but instead he ground his hips up into you. At this angle his cock was rutting against your stomach and you could feel how hard he had gotten since the shower. You felt the slightest wet sensation from the top of his cock leaking.

Perhaps at some point you’d see if it was possible to get him to cum with just stimulation to his nipples, but you wanted him to cum in your mouth at the moment. When you had kissed him earlier, tongue pressing against his own, you could faintly taste him. It had you craving more, like it always did. It was bitter, salty, but it tasted like him and that was all your mind really wanted. You wanted Xavier in every way possible, all at once.

You popped off his nipple, licking your already wet lips, “Xavier, you told me to wait,” you pressed a kiss between his pecs, “Now what am I waiting for?” your mouth was moving over to his other cute nipple. It was pink and pebbled perfect as your breath ghosted over it, sending a shiver down Xavier’s spine.

Xavier opened his mouth and was about to say something when he seemed to pause. His eyebrows furrowed as he clearly tried to think about why he wanted you to wait. You felt so good kissing him, licking his nipples, it was making him hard and needy. He swallowed the lump in his throat as you spoke up, “Can’t remember? Want me to continue then?” teasingly your tongue poked out your mouth and licked his pearled up bud.

This elicited a small gasp from him, his hand reaching up to run through your hair, pushing away some so it wouldn’t get in the way, “Yes please,” he said and your mouth latched onto him, giving this side the same treatment. Your tongue swirling around his hardened peak, making him groan as he pressed his chest closer to your mouth. Your fingers played with the other side, giving it a harsh pinch so you could see him mewl.

His hips were rutting shamelessly against your stomach, twitching as he tried to get some much needed stimulation. You smirked, biting around his nipple and god that had him moaning like a damn whore, his grip on your hair tightening as you popped off his nipple. You looked at your work, seeing his pink nipples now turned a red tone. Your teeth marks were perfectly around one of them and his blush now spread from his cheeks down to his chest so perfectly it made you want to eat him right up.

“Such a pretty boy,” your words made him whimper, watching as you began kissing a trail down his chest to his abs. Your tongue lapped at some of the water droplets that still clung to his skin as you gazed up at him. He was watching you with such an intense gaze as you made your way down to his hips.

You bit down on his Adonis belt, making Xavier’s hips buck up into you. You felt his erection between your chest now, leaking all over you from how hot and bothered you managed to make him. You chuckled as you licked at the small red bite mark you had left on him. Xavier looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowed at your teasing.

“Something to say?” you said, your hands now rubbing at his thighs as you coaxed him to spread them. The pink dusting on his cheeks didn’t seem like it would be going anywhere soon, in fact it seemed to make him a shade darker as he looked away from you for a moment. Despite his embarrassed state, you watched as he opened his legs to make room for you to nestle between them. Your cheek rested on his inner thigh as your other hand gently played with the other.

“N-no…” he said, looking at you between his thighs. You looked at him lovingly, smiling as you kissed his thigh and adjusted yourself. Your hand wrapping around his cock as you gave a few gentle tugs, feeling how he twitched in your hands. He let out a small whimper at your hand wrapping around him again, his eyes half lidded as he stared down at you. You could see his mouth open slightly, panting and you shivered at the sight. He was so sensitive and it never ceased to turn you on.

You teased him one last time, biting down on his inner thigh hard and watched as his cock jumped in your hands. A thick bead of pre cum dripping down the shaft and right into your hand as you casually pumped his cock. Xavier let out a whimpering moan at the rough treatment and you only wished he didn’t heal so damn fast the marks you left would be seen for at least a week after this. It was fine, you’d just have to refresh them daily since they went away seemingly overnight.

Finally you took his cock into your mouth, giving the tip a harsh suck. Xavier’s hips rolled into your mouth out of instinct, making you smirk and pop off him, “Xavie baby,” you cooed, watching his hazy eyes staring down at you as he tried listening, “Be still for me, okay sweetheart?” you began, “Think you can do that for me?”

Xavier let out a groan and nodded, but when he noticed you weren’t back on his dick he realized what you wanted, “I-I promise,” he swore, his tone breathy and debauched already. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth. You briefly wondered if you could make him drool today by fucking him. Well, there was only one way to find out…

You wasted no time, your mouth moving on Xavier as you began sucking his cock like it was the last thing you’d ever taste. The change was immediate as you began working in earnest, and Xavier clearly wasn’t prepared for you to be sucking him like this right out the gate. The high pitched keen that left him was telling, as well as the steady dribble of his pre that was coating the back of your tongue. You groaned at the taste of him, working to relax your throat so you could take all of him.

Xavier certainly wasn’t small, the girth of his cock was punishing if you weren’t prepared to take it, but thankfully his length was only a little above average. It made it a little easier for you to deepthroat him, but even then you gagged around his length a little as it hit the back of your throat. Xavier gasped at the sound you made, looking down with a flush as his hand went back into your hair, dragging you off his cock and watching the trail of saliva connecting your lips to the tip.

“Y-you don’t have to…” he swallowed, “Take it too deep…it feels good no matter what,” he said, his eyes concerned despite how turned on he was. You moved to kiss his cock, making him close his eyes and breath deeply, trying to steady himself from how good you were making him feel right now.

Finally you deigned to speak up, “Do you not like me gagging on your cock, Xavier?” the lewd words making him groan, “Because I love taking you deep, babes, seeing your eyes rolling back from the pleasure. Want you to get lost in it,” you rambled on, licking up his length. A small whine escaped him as his grip on your hair loosened enough for you to move freely, “Let me make you feel good, bunny, I promise I won’t push myself. Is that okay?” you licked the dribble from his tip again.

Xavier licked his lips and nodded, “If you’re sure…” he said and it was the green light you were waiting for. Your lips wrapping back around him as you sank down as deep as you could go, feeling his cock once again hitting the back of your throat and you hummed in delight.

Xavier hadn’t expected you to sink down like that the moment he said it was okay. His head was thrown back onto the pillow as he let out the loudest moan of the night. His sounds were music to your ears, so beautiful every single time he let a noise escape those pretty lips of his.

His head was now spinning from how good you were making him feel and it was a struggle for him not to roll his hips into your mouth. His throbbing cock was heavy on your tongue as you worked on swirling it around his shaft. With how thick he was it wasn’t easy, his dick taking up all the room in your mouth and it caused a gentle ache in your jaw.

His breathing was becoming labored and he could feel himself getting close embarrassingly at an alarmingly fast rate. Perhaps it was due to him still being sensitive from you jerking him off in the shower, but the moans coming out of him were so loud and his cock was now twitching against your tongue. His body trembled as he worked on holding himself back and it was so adorable seeing him place his hand in his mouth, biting down on it to keep his noise level down.

What wouldn’t fit in your mouth was now being stroked with your hand, your other one cupping his balls and you could feel how they tightened in your grasp, “W-wait I’m…” Xavier managed to get out, wanting to warn you, maybe even stop you from continuing. He probably wanted to be inside of you before he came, but at present you had no intention on letting him fuck you for this evening.

You could feel his cock twitch once more before you could taste the bitterness of his cum as he shot out and onto your tongue. You worked on angling his cock so his load wouldn’t shoot right down your throat. You wanted to taste him as you worked him through a second orgasm for the night. You hummed around his length, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment as his grip on your hair was so tight. The burn of it only made you feel hot and bothered as you rolled your hips into the mattress below.

Xavier was so sensitive at the moment as he started to come down from his high. He flinched at feeling how you had kept him in your mouth, your tongue laving at the lip as you swallowed his load. He could feel your throat constricting with the motion and he recoiled. You smirked at the reaction he had, knowing it was probably a little painful after just coming for the second time that night. You had every intention of ruining this man though, so instead of letting him have a moment to breathe you were popping your lips off his cock and replacing it with your hand.

You spit on your other hand, placing your wet fingers against his entrance. Some of the spit from your sloppy blowjob had already dripped down to his ass, making it easier to push a finger into his hole. You watched Xavier’s eyes shoot open, widening almost comically as he let out a whorish moan. He looked down as you began fucking him with your finger, your mouth going back to wrap around the head of his dick.

“S-stop it’s-mhm fuck,” he gasped out as your fingers found his prostate the moment you were pressed into him. You had done this so many times it was second nature to you. You felt how his cock was twitching again in your mouth. It hadn’t even had a moment to soften as your tongue worked on the length. Xavier looked completely out of it, staring down at you with a frantic look in those hazy blue eyes.

Xavier was panting, trying to shy away from your touches but it was no use. He let out another whine and rolled his hips up, making you gag for a second on his length and you looked up at him in amusement. He looked so fucked out and he had only cum twice so far. He was honestly too adorable as you continued to finger him, a second finger now pressing inside as you scissored him. You worked his entrance open all the while listening to his symphony and whimpers and whines.

He was squirming under your ministrations, the hand that wasn’t in your hair was thrown back into his mouth as he bit down harshly in a failed attempt at muffling those cute noises. The noises he made were sure to get you guys a few noise complaints come tomorrow morning, but as it stood you were drinking them all in as you didn’t let up. His cock throbbed in your mouth, pulsing against your tongue and you finally took your mouth off his cock. You licked your lips, his taste lingering in your mouth and you ground your hips once more into the mattress to help alleviate the growing arousal in you. You wanted to focus on Xavier though, you could deal with your own needs at another time.

Xavier’s ass clenched around your fingers perfectly and you almost felt bad when you took them out. Xavier looked down at you confused as to why you stopped. While his body was sensitive he was starting to get so close to coming again.

“W-why’d you…” he trailed off, his lips forming a cute pout and you chuckled at the sight. Fuck he was too adorable and he didn’t even realize it half the time. How was this man a dangerous hunter yet easily fell apart into a whimpering mess the moment you toyed with his body?

“Give me a minute, okay?” you assured him with a gentle squeeze to his thighs. You stood up from the bed and walked over to the drawer in the nightstand, quickly finding your harness alongside the lube. It was a pretty little thing, a sleek baby blue strap that was long and tapered. It wasn’t particularly girthy, but the end of it did have an upward turn for finding the prostate. It was the perfect toy for Xavier. He didn’t much care for having something huge in him, but he was always readily accepting of something that would graze that tender spot inside every thrust.

Xavier has wrongfully assumed he had a moment of peace as he laid back on the mattress, his cock hard but sensitive. That illusion was destroyed the moment he looked over to see the strap in your hand. His breath got caught in his throat as he saw you holding the harness and lube, looking at him with intrigue. His cock betrayed him, twitching at the sight of you and it didn’t go unnoticed if the growing smirk on your face was telling.

You watched as your sweet boy squirmed on the bed, attempting to sit up so he could have at least a little dignity. Just by clicking your tongue he paused, looking over at you, “Xavier, calm down baby boy,” you cooed, “I’ll give you what you want in just a second, let me just put this on real fast,”

He stopped moving for a moment, opting to sink back onto the pillows underneath him. He watched as you put on the harness, working the straps of it over your thighs and hips as you secured it into place. He licked his lips as you tightened it, watching how it clung to you so perfectly. You gently got on the bed, the mattress having enough give to shift Xavier on it as he looked at you with so much want in his eyes.

You crawled over until you were between Xavier’s legs and tapped them then smiled as you saw Xavier eagerly opening his legs so you’d have better access. His cock laid heavy between them, dripping onto the mattress as your hand took it, pumping it twice before laying it on his stomach.. The popping noise of the lube cap opening sounded so loud in the room as you poured some over your hand; Xavier watched as you smeared some of the viscous liquid onto the artificial cock.. Those same fingers that were making him fall apart minutes ago now pressed against his entrance.

“Is this okay?” You murmured, pressing a finger inside of him. It was an easy glide and soon the second joined it as you scissored him. You were careful not to press against his prostate again, your only goal was to get lube inside of him so the cock would be comfortably nestled in his warmth.

He let out a loud moan, feeling how you began working him open some more. He nodded in reply, his jaw open in pleasure and you stopped your movements and looked at him, “Use your words,” you instructed, “You know how much I love hearing your voice,”

Xavier swallowed thickly before nodding, “Y-yes, it’s okay…” he trailed off once he felt your fingers moving inside of him. It didn’t take much with your previous ministrations and you took your fingers out, stroking your strap as Xavier’s eyes flew down to you, trying to relax in anticipation of being fucked.

You pressed the head of the strap against his hole, teasing him as you put just a little bit of pressure and allowing the tip inside. Xavier looked up at you with pleading eyes; they looked almost wet with unshed tears and you couldn’t help but smirk at how docile he appeared to be in the moment. He claimed he wasn’t some sweet and innocent bunny, but it took barely any coaxing to get him to this point of being needy. Sure sometimes he was capable of flipping you over the couch and fucking you dumb, but he was just as willing to be on his back like this.

“Please don’t tease me,” he managed to mutter, his cute flush crossing his cheeks as he stared up at you. He looked so fucked out already and you hadn’t even put it in yet. You felt your entire body getting a bit warmer, licking your lips as you decided to give him what he wanted.

“Of course, my love, you know I’ll give you anything when you ask me like that,” The toy easily began sliding into his waiting hole, his entire body lax under your touch as you bottomed out in him. You heard him letting out a keening whine as you adjusted, the tip of it no doubt grazing his prostate as you intended You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it again and without warning you began thrusting hard.

Xavier’s legs were quick to wrap around your waist at the feeling , locking his ankles around your back as he let out a loud and needy moan. Small curses escaping his mouth at feeling how fast you began fucking him, how your slick hand wrapped around his cock and worked him at the same pace as the strap.

It only came as a small surprise when you watched his cock twitch before splatters of cum painted his abs and your hand. It had happened so fast that you don’t even think Xavier was able to comprehend that he came immediately, the sensations being too much in such a short timespan that he let out a broken whimper as you worked him through it.

“Fuck…” you moaned out, seeing how easily he came, his cock still twitching as you didn’t let up your pace. Xavier’s arms were clutching at the pillows near his head, his back arched off the mattress as you continued fucking him at a fast pace. He felt like he was going to break as tears slid down his cheeks at the near painful feeling of your hand jerking him off.

Your hips worked against Xavier, thrusting into him at a brutal pace as the room filled with the slapping noises and Xavier’s small sobs. You wanted to see him become a complete and utter mess and you were so damn close to it. Xavier made the realization at what you were after after he started to come down from his high. His body felt like a livewire, already coming three times within maybe half an hour.

His entire body jostled with every thrust and he was absolutely whining now, babbling about it being too much as the strap hit his prostate with every thrust. His head was thrown back as he tried squirming away, his hands still grasping the sheets underneath him like a life line as the material scrunched up and almost tore from the grip. He couldn’t stop the pathetic whimpering noises that flew out of his mouth, every thrust punching the air right out of his lungs.

“Ah-ah-hah p-please mhn-hah…” hearing him moaning your name like it was the gospel as his cock leaked, his own cum being smeared over his stomach as you pressed his dick onto it. You used his own stomach and your hand to create more friction as you worked him perfectly to the same tune of your thrusts.

His mind instantly went to mush at the sensation, short circuiting as the only thing his brain could focus on was the pleasure coursing through him. He didn’t even think he had anything left to give as tears streaming out, his mouth opened as he let out sobs that he couldn’t contain. You could feel his cock twitching and his body responded like you’d come to expect when he came, but instead of cum leaking from the tip there was only a drizzle of clear fluid as he had a mostly dry orgasm.

He couldn’t even speak at this point, his entire mind clouded and as much as you wanted to keep fucking him, you knew he was spent. He was panting and crying and damn he couldn’t even cum anymore at this point. You let go of his poor cock, watching as it dropped onto his stomach as you let out gentle coos, your hands rubbing his hips gently as you tried getting him to come back to you.

Still you couldn’t help but tease him a little more, those blue eyes seemed a little far off but they were still staring at you helplessly. You slowly took the strap out, watching as he let out a whine or protest that he probably didn’t even realize came out of his mouth. You smirked, rubbing his thighs now, “Good job, Xavier, did such a good job,” you said as you adjusted yourself. You leaned in, your tongue now licking a strip up his abs and collecting his fluid. Xavier shifted, letting out a few cute noises at the slight tickling feeling which turned into a sharp gasp.

Your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock, giving it a harsh suck as you cleaned it up. You didn’t remain there for long, popping off after a second. You just wanted to see him twitch from the sensitivity not actually work him towards another orgasm. With Xavier being somewhat clean you worked the harness off your body and tossed it to the ground of the room. It could be cleaned later, but for now your beautiful bunny needed you.

His legs had long since fallen from around your waist as you grabbed at his upper thighs, moving his body with you as you laid him on his side. You leaned up and gave him a quick kiss that he couldn’t even respond properly to. Instead of trying to get him to talk. You began pressing kisses on his forehead and cheeks, “Such a good boy for me, Xavie,” you murmured against him, smiling at how cute he looked. It took a couple of minutes before he seemed ready to respond, his eyes now tired and red.

“You good, Xavier?” you murmured as you adjusted him so he was securely wrapped up with you. His arms were around your waist and he dragged you closer to his chest, nuzzling his face into your shoulder.

“Ya…” he muttered out, making you smirk. He seemed to finally be coming back to his senses which meant he was going to be extra cuddly, probably not letting you go for the entire night.

“Alright good…you know I still need to clean you up,” you pointed out and Xavier’s grip on you tightened, holding you like a stuffed animal. It seemed like your observation was right, you were going to be trapped here. You let out a small sigh as you readily accepted your fate, your hands wrapping around him and relaxing into his body. He didn’t even get a chance to say anything else as his body fell into a gentle sleep, completely spent from the activities.

I would like to apologize if there's any typos in here. I really wanted to get this out before work but there's literally almost 8k words here and there's no way I'd be able to finish rereading the entire thing.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Xavier Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Xavier #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #xavier x reader #l&ds #l&ds xavier #l&ds xavier x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads xavier x reader #rabid rabbit hours

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