#i'm going to try and sleep and just. sincerely hope that helps

[just-another-nerd-blog]

I am. So very tired.

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 20

THIS IS PART OF THE FRIENDS (WITH BENEFITS) DON'T SERIES! T

PROMPT: “I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

KINK: Morning Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (P in V. Lots of kissing and touching.)

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

TAG LIST: See Comments

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm going to be honest I was really struggling with my original idea for Kinktober Day 20. It was a different Kink with a different character but it wasn't coming together like I wanted. I had started and scrapped it five or six times. But I also had this that I wrote a few weeks ago. I wasn't going to post it because I didn't think it fit with the story I originally was writing it for (a Jake series that I've since abandoned cause I wasn't loving how it was coming together) but I feel like it could fit the Kinktober theme so here it is! Hope you like it! xx

The morning sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. You slowly stir awake, feeling the warmth of Jake’s body pressed against yours, his arm draped comfortably over your waist. His chest rises and falls with the rhythm of his deep, even breaths, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into him, enjoying the unexpected comfort of waking up in his arms. This isn’t how things usually go.

Your relationship with Jake has been easy, with no strings attached. At least, it was supposed to be. But now, with the way he’s holding you so protectively, it feels different. You remember last night—how you’d planned for another casual hook-up, but instead, after, you’d ended up tangled together under the covers, watching a romcom of all things. And then, instead of leaving like he always does, Jake stayed.

Your heart pounds softly in your chest, the weight of the situation settling in. Is this still just a fling? Or is something else happening between you two? The lines are starting to blur.

You shift slightly, careful not to wake him just yet, and glance over your shoulder. His usually cocky, confident expression is softened in sleep, his features relaxed, and suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of vulnerability you weren’t expecting.

You know you should probably move, maybe get up, but something about this moment feels too good to let go. You bite your lip, torn between the easygoing fun of what you had before and the undeniable change that seems to be happening.

Just as you're lost in thought, Jake stirs, his arm tightening slightly around your waist before his voice rumbles low in your ear. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

His voice, deep and gravelly from sleep, sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to smile. You manage to reply softly, “Morning.”

Jake shifts behind you, pulling you closer for a second before he stretches and rolls onto his back, his hand trailing down your arm as he moves. The bed feels colder without him wrapped around you, and you can't help but miss the warmth. He runs a hand through his messy hair and glances over at you, his usual cocky grin making an appearance. “Sleep well?”

You nod, still feeling a bit off-balance by the situation, and try to keep things casual. “Yeah, I did…you?”

“Better than usual,” he says, surprising you with the sincerity in his tone.

You sit up slowly, pulling the covers around you, suddenly feeling a bit exposed—not physically, but emotionally. This isn’t what you signed up for. Friends with benefits doesn’t include waking up in each other’s arms, watching movies together, and it certainly doesn’t include the softness in Jake’s eyes when he looks at you right now.

You’re about to say something, maybe ask him about breakfast or make some quip to lighten the mood, but before you can get the words out, you feel Jake’s lips press against your bare shoulder. It’s not just a kiss—it’s gentle, lingering, almost like he’s savoring the moment. And it catches you completely off guard. Jake’s mouth has been everywhere on you before, but this? This feels different. It’s tender. Intimate. Too intimate.

Your breath hitches slightly as you glance back at him, and you’re met with a gaze that’s softer than his usual playful smirk. His green eyes seem to be studying you, watching your reaction carefully. For a second, your heart pounds a little harder, and all you can think is what are we doing?

“Jake…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what you want to say. You feel like you should address this shift, but before you can even form a coherent thought, he’s already leaning in again, his lips brushing against your collarbone this time, trailing upward to your neck.

The air between you thickens, and any words you might’ve had dissolve in the heat of the moment. Jake’s hand slides along your waist, pulling you back down onto the bed, your body instinctively responding to him. You should stop and talk about this, about what this all means, but when he moves closer, you can’t seem to find it in you to pull away.

Jake’s lips linger for a moment, his breath brushing against your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine, not from cold, but from something much deeper. Something you hadn’t expected to feel this morning, or maybe ever in this situation. Sure, Jake has touched you plenty of times before, in ways that have sent your pulse racing and your skin burning. But this—this feels different.

Your heart begins to beat faster as his hand, which had been resting on your waist, tightens ever so slightly, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his muscles flex just beneath the surface as he shifts beside you. He presses another kiss, this time closer to the nape of your neck, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the contact. It sends your thoughts into a spiral, the question lingering in your mind—What is happening?

Before you can fully process it, Jake’s hand begins to move, sliding from your waist up along your ribs, his touch light and teasing. His fingers graze the band of your bra, tracing the edge in a way that makes your breath hitch. You shift slightly under the covers, your body responding to him even as your mind races to catch up. Every touch feels deliberate like he’s taking his time, savoring every second. It’s not the hurried, frenzied touches you’re used to—it’s slow, almost reverent, and it makes your heart pound in your chest.

His hand moves back down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, and in one smooth motion, he pulls it up over your head, tossing it aside. You don’t even think to stop him—you don’t want to. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of Jake’s hands as he cups your sides, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your bra. His lips find your neck again, this time pressing a series of kisses, each one sending sparks through your body.

You open your mouth to say something—to ask him what this is, what it means—but before you can, his hand slides around your back, expertly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. He pulls it off, tossing it somewhere in the room, and you suddenly feel exposed in a way that’s both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Jake doesn’t give you time to think about it. His hands are on you again, skimming over your bare skin as his mouth moves lower, pressing a kiss just below your collarbone. His touch is slow and patient as if he’s in no rush to get anywhere, and it drives you wild. You can’t help the way your back arches slightly, your body reacting to him before your mind can catch up.

As his lips trail down your chest, you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down with the same deliberate slowness. The way he’s taking his time—like he wants to memorize every inch of you—sends a flush of warmth through your body.

You reach up, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him back to you. His lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and consuming, filled with a hunger that makes your head spin. There’s an urgency now, but it’s not the same frantic rush as before. It’s something deeper—something that makes your heart race as much as your body responds.

Jake’s hands roam your body with a familiar ease, but this time, there’s a softness to his touch, a kind of reverence that makes your skin tingle. His mouth moves back to your neck, trailing down to your chest, and you can feel the heat between the two of you intensifying. Every kiss, every touch, feels deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment in a way that leaves you breathless.

Before you know it, you’re completely lost in him. His mouth is everywhere—on your skin, your lips, your neck—and all you can do is let yourself fall deeper into the moment, feeling the weight of him, the warmth of him, as he moves against you. You’re no longer just two friends sharing a casual hookup. This is something more. And it terrifies you as much as it thrills you.

Jake pushes your legs a little further apart as he reaches down and wraps his hand around himself. He spreads the precum that formed at his tip around the head with his thumb before pumping himself a couple of times.

He then presses the tip through your folds as he gently pushes into you. His eyes find yours as his hips slowly move until they are pressed flatly against yours. Jake leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips before he started slowly moving in and out of you.

Your breath started to hitch as he moved in and out of you, each thrust feeling like it was a little deeper than the last. Slowly his pace started to quicken.

“J-Jake,” you moaned as you started to move your hips up to meet his.

You feel his lips curve into a smirk against your neck before he whispers, “God, I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

Baby. That was new. He’d never used pet names before.

But you didn’t have time to overthink it because his hand slid down your stomach until one of his fingers started rubbing circles on your clit. You felt your back arch up off the sheets as the knot in your stomach tightened even further.

“F-fuck,” you cried out, feeling your orgasm right there.

“Not yet. Wait for me, baby. I’m…I’m almost there,” Jake breathily said as he picked up his face even further. Your hands grabbed at the sheets as you tried to hold it off, but it was getting nearly impossibly.

“Okay, come with me baby.” He breathed after a few more thrusts. Your toes curled and you cried out as you felt your orgasm wash over you. It was the most intense one he had ever given you. It left you feeling slightly dizzy as you laid there trying to get the air back into your lungs.

Once the intensity subsides, your breaths gradually even out, but the room still feels heavy with the lingering heat of what just happened. Jake shifts beside you, his body slightly resting on yours as if he’s reluctant to let go. His skin is warm, slick with a light sheen of sweat, and his chest rises and falls against your back. Slowly, his arm drapes lazily over your waist again, pulling you even closer until there’s barely an inch of space between you.

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, a gesture that feels impossibly tender compared to what had just transpired. It sends a strange flutter through your chest, and you can’t help but close your eyes, sinking into the feeling. His lips linger there for a moment, as though he’s savoring the closeness, his breathing still a little uneven as it fans across your skin.

You lay there in silence, the warmth of his body cocooning you, and for a fleeting second, it almost feels like more than just a fling. Jake holds you like you’re something precious, his grip on you gentle but firm, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he loosens it. His fingertips lazily trace small circles on your hip, an absent-minded gesture that sends ripples of electricity through your skin.

But even as your heart skips in response, your mind is racing. The intimacy of it all—of him kissing your shoulder earlier, of the way he’s holding you now—feels too close. Too much. Like it’s crossing a line you weren’t prepared to cross. You stare up at the ceiling, the fan spinning lazily above you, trying to quiet the thoughts spinning in your head.

What are we doing? It’s the question that’s been eating at you for weeks now, but after moments like this, it feels impossible to ignore. You’ve been telling yourself for months that it’s just physical—that this friends-with-benefits thing is working. But lying here, wrapped in Jake’s arms, the weight of his body still pressed against yours, you can’t help but wonder if it’s something more. And if it is—what does that mean for the two of you?

Beside you, Jake’s breathing has slowed, becoming more even, and you can feel his muscles relax against you. He looks so at ease, so content, like this is the most natural thing in the world. It’s disarming, seeing him like this, without the cocky smirk or swagger. Just Jake, quietly holding you in the early morning light.

He doesn’t say anything—maybe he’s thinking the same things, maybe he’s not thinking at all—but the silence between you feels charged, like there’s a conversation you should be having but neither of you is ready to start. You know you’ll have to face the reality of what’s happening between you eventually, of what it’s becoming. But not right now. Not yet.

For now, you’re content to stay here, tangled up with him in this moment. His arm still draped over you like he’s anchoring you to him, his breath warm against your neck, and the lingering heat from the sheets creating a bubble you don’t want to burst just yet. It’s safe here, in the quiet aftermath, even if it’s complicated. Especially because it’s complicated.

Eventually, Jake shifts beside you, the movement pulling you out of your thoughts. His arm loosens around your waist, and you can feel him adjust himself behind you. There’s a slight pause before he moves, as if he’s hesitant to break the moment, but then he finally leans back. You hear him run a hand through his tousled hair, the sound of it brushing against the pillow beside you.

With a small sigh, you push yourself up slightly on your elbows, feeling the cool air hit your skin as the blanket falls away. You turn your head just in time to see Jake glancing at himself in the small mirror on the wall, running his fingers through his hair again, making sure it still looks good. It’s such a Jake thing to do—caring about how his hair looks even after everything that just happened—and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

He catches your eye in the reflection, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lazy grin. “Pull yourself together,” he teases lightly, the heat from earlier still lingering in his tone. “You look a little... well, you know.” His eyes flicker over you in a way that makes you feel warm all over again.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite behind it. Instead, you push the covers off and slide out of bed, your legs still a little shaky as you stand. You make your way over to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and doing your best to hide any signs of what had just happened in the bedroom. The cool water is refreshing, helping you regain some sense of normalcy after the heated intensity of the morning.

When you finally feel composed enough, you step out of the bathroom and make your way through your apartment, finding Jake by the door. He’s already pulling on his shirt, his movements casual and unhurried, as if the last hour hadn’t completely turned your world upside down. He glances at you as you approach, a knowing smile tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t say anything.

The two of you walk out together, the easy silence between you feeling both comfortable and charged, the weight of what just happened lingering in the air between you. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the parking lot, and for a moment, everything feels almost normal—like this could be any other day.

You head toward your car, the cool morning breeze brushing against your skin, but before you can reach the handle, you feel Jake’s arm snake around your waist. He pulls you close, his body warm against yours as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your temple. The gesture is light and easy, like it’s something he’s done a hundred times before. And maybe he has—but it still feels different now.

Your heart stutters in your chest as the warmth of his lips lingers on your skin. You wait for something more—for him to say something, to acknowledge the shift between you—but instead, Jake gives you a small smile, his signature smirk just barely there, and turns to walk toward his truck.

You blink, watching as he pulls open the door and climbs inside, the engine roaring to life. His truck pulls out of the lot, disappearing around the corner like it’s just another day. Like nothing extraordinary just happened. Like he hasn’t turned your world upside down in the span of a single morning.

And you’re left standing there by your car, fingers still hovering near the door handle, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. What just happened? He kissed you goodbye—and went on about his day like it was nothing. Like it was routine.

But it didn’t feel routine, not to you.

Your stomach twists, a confusing swirl of emotions rising inside you. You’re no stranger to Jake’s touch, to the way he holds you close in private, the way he knows exactly how to make you feel good. That was the arrangement—the simple, no-strings-attached setup that the two of you had fallen into. It had worked perfectly at first. Fun, light, uncomplicated. But this morning, something shifted. And it scares you.

You press your lips together, your fingers tightening around your car keys as you replay the morning’s events in your head. The softness in Jake’s kiss. The way he held you like it was more than just a fleeting moment. The way he kissed your shoulder earlier, something so intimate it almost felt like a confession in itself. But none of it made sense. You weren’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Right?

You lean against your car for a moment, trying to sort through the haze of emotions clouding your mind. There’s an ache deep in your chest—something that wasn’t there before. It’s that feeling you’ve been trying to ignore for weeks now, the feeling that this wasn’t just about hooking up anymore. Not for you. And maybe not for him either.

But then why did he just leave? Why did he act like this was nothing more than your usual routine?

You bite your lip, trying to shake off the growing uncertainty. Maybe you’re reading too much into it. Maybe this is just what happens when you start spending too much time together outside of the original arrangement. Lines blur, things get messy, and suddenly it’s not just about sex anymore.

But the worst part is, you don’t even know what you want. You don’t know if you’re ready to confront whatever this is becoming. If you’re ready to have that conversation with Jake, to open up the possibility of things going wrong. Because things were good—before they got complicated. Before last night. Before this morning.

You sigh, the cool breeze brushing your hair as you glance toward the empty spot where Jake’s truck had been parked moments ago. Your mind is a jumble of emotions—confusion, longing, fear, and something else you’re not quite ready to name.

What if Jake feels it too? What if he’s just as confused as you are?

But then again... what if he doesn’t?

You unlock your car door and slide into the driver’s seat, the weight of uncertainty heavy on your chest. You don’t know where this is going, or what happens next, but one thing is clear: things have changed between you and Jake. And you can’t go back to the way things were, no matter how much you might want to.

As you sit there, staring out at the quiet street ahead, you wonder if Jake is thinking about you now, if he’s replaying the morning in his mind like you are. Or if, for him, this is still just part of the arrangement—a fun, easy fling that hasn’t crossed any lines.

Your fingers tap against the steering wheel, the echo of Jake’s kiss still lingering on your skin.

You thought you had it all figured out. But now, standing on the edge of something new and uncertain, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you’ve fallen in deeper than you ever intended to.

And the scariest part? You’re not sure if Jake’s ready to follow you there.

[j-jinxee]

୨୧ WHAT ENHA – HYUNG LINE – WOULD SAY DURING MAKE UP SEX ⸝⸝⸝

NSFW under the cut! ⊹ Hyung Line x Reader

✦ [warnings — sex obv, swearing, head - recieving, crying, fingering, petnames]

─────

୨୧ Lee Heeseung

��� The way he wouldn't even try to be soft. He'd fuck you dumb until you can't even remember what the argument was about.

⊳ He'd apologise after yes, but not now. For now he's filling you so good you're practically a limp little fucktoy for him :((

⊳ 'you know you can't stay mad at me baby, not when I make you feel this good, huh?'

⊳ 'awh, doll forgot how to speak? That's ok, I'll make you scream again soon bby'

⊳ 'feel me in there bby? feel how fucking deep I am, how well I fill your little cunt'

⊳ You hate that it worked, by the time he was done with you the last thing on your mind was that stupid argument.

⊳ He apologised for how he acted while providing aftercare, quietly but sincerely.

୨୧ Park Jongseong

⊳ Would be all for your pleasure. So incredibly whipped while doing anything to make you forgive him, yet not coming across as desperate.

⊳ So loving and gentle :(( but at the same time bringing you the most pleasure you've ever received in your fucking life.

⊳ 'love you so much bby, all I need is you, always'

⊳ 'I know we fight sometimes but, swear I'm gonna marry you one day'

⊳ He quietly apologised the whole way through, but made sure you knew he was so sincerely sorry by the end of it. Held you through the whole night and wouldn't let you go :((

⊳ Trails heavy kisses down your neck as you cum, whispering how good you are for him everytime, how good you make him feel.

୨୧ Sim Jaeyun

⊳ Poor boys nightmare is coming true :((

⊳ Will plead on his knees to let him eat you out, looking up at you like a lost puppy. Apologising profusely, promising he'll make you feel good.

⊳ Yes you're mad, but you're not stupid, so you reluctantly let him.

⊳ 'fuckkk baby, ' couldn't live without you, I really couldn't'

⊳ 'please bby, I'm so fucking sorry, let me show you- please'

⊳ So scared you won't forgive him afterwards, he means it when he says he couldn't live without you. Everything, your smile, your presence, your sweet little cunt, he needs all of you.

⊳ He's so grateful for you letting him pleasure you through this, n so hard by the end of it but won't dare ask for your help :(( poor boys boxers are drenched in sticky pre, feeling as if he could cry from the contrasting sensations.

⊳ Has you drunk off his tongue by the end of it, took him so long to stop, in fear of what words would come out when you were done screaming his name. Of course though, you forgave him.

୨୧ Park Sunghoon

⊳ Tears were falling as he began to kiss you, the moment was very overwhelming. As much as you wanted to push him away, his touch made everything go quiet.

⊳ When he pulled away, 'I- I just.. I can't do this anymore' you sobbed.

⊳ 'shh I know, I know baby' he whispers, laying you down like a child to sleep.

⊳ 'don't worry, it'll all go away soon'

⊳ Gently pulling down your shorts to slide a finger into your folds. Melting your anxieties away with the pleasurable feeling. Coming back up to capture your lips with his again, putting your soft cries to an end.

⊳ 'm sorry for snapping bby, I know you've been stressed 'm so sorry, you can let go now'

⊳ His sweet words guided you through your feelings, fingers working to tip you over the edge at any second. Quiet kisses and reassuring words, that was him :((

─────

Hope y'all like this one :33 idk why it's taking me so long to finish my one shots lately but anyway, have this 🤞🏻

[lincolndjarin]

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 

“My entire Christmas bonus.” 

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 

“Please, Steve.” 

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 

Javier P. 

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 

Every single woman, except you. 

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 

Red chipped paint. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 

Probably. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 

Jesus. 

You know way too much about him. 

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected. 

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 

Javier traded for your name? 

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 

Javier’s office. 

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 

What a foolish question. 

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 

“So this is about the secret Santa.” 

Of course he wouldn’t get it. 

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 

Jesus you’re soaked. 

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Gale Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Gale is the main speaker/subject or I think his reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Laezel_Gale_ROM_Act2]

Gale: So, Lae’zel - have you ever been tempted to use psionics in your, erm, romantic endeavors? {Devnote: Curiosity winning out over awkwardness}

Lae’zel: Only once. Did you know, in low-gravity settings, githyanki can maintain aerial suspension for hours at a time? {Devnote: cheekily}

Gale: Fascinating - I think the archmage Tasha described a spell with similar effect. I really must look that up… {Devnote: latter part almost to self}

[PB_Gale_Astarion_ROM_Act3_Spawn]

Gale: If you’re feeling faint after your bout with Cazador, Astarion, I don’t mind donating some blood. {Devnote: Sincere/Genuinely trying to help}

Astarion: When you’re still full of that Netherese bile? I’ll pass, thank you.

Astarion: Besides, I have someone else to nibble on. And they are delicious.

[PB_Gale_Shadowheart_Morgue]

Gale: Look at this place. Such horrors defy descriptions…{Devnote: In very bleak/grim surroundings}

Shadowheart: Silence can be best. Give it a try sometime. {Devnote: A little cheeky, though they’re in a grim place}

[PB_Gale_Shadowheart_ROM_Act3_Selune]

Gale: I must tell you, Shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired. {Devnote: a bit know it all}

Gale: The ablutions offered at the Temple of Beauty in Waterdeep are far superior. And they have the most excellent soaps. 

Shadowheart: Hmm. I was wondering why you always smelled like a wealthy dowager. {Devnote: teasing}

[PB_Wyll_Gale_ROM_Act2]

Gale: I’ve heard that in Baldur’s Gate, ‘wizard’ is also a term used for one who eschews their more, ahem, carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll? {Devnote: Fishing for info, a bit annoyed about what he’s heard.}

Wyll: Where are we going with this, Gale?

Gale: Oh, nowhere. I just think it a rather cruel misnomer. Not at all reflective of the glamour wizarding life affords. {Devnote: A bit sulky/sensitive about it}

[PB_Gale_Astarion_ROM_Act2]

Gale: I fear I've been rather hasty to judge you, Astarion. {Devnote: sincere/sympathetic}

Gale: One heartbreak was quite enough for me, but to experience it as many times as you have must change a person.

Astarion: Thank you, Gale. Let us both hope that broken hearts are a thing of the past.

[PB_Karlach_Gale_BlushingMermaid]

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who?

Gale: She who thirsts buys drink the first. {Devnote: Like it's a well-known saying}

Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! {Devnote: jockeying with Gale}

Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

[PB_Laezel_Gale_ROM_Act3_001]

Lae'zel: Gale, I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey.

Gale: And deprive them of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations? I'd never be so cruel.

Gale: The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.

[PB_Karlach_Gale_ROM_Act1]

Gale: Karlach... a hypothetical question for you.

Gale: If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another, unnamed individual, what might that someone do about it?

Karlach: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale. And leave out the hypotheticals.

Gale: Talking. Right. I'm good at that.

[fraugwinska]

I know canonically Alastor doesn't sleep but let's assume it's not because he doesn't have to but because he doesn't want to - he feels powerless and vulnerable when he sleeps, also he is tormented by nightmares.

What if one night everyone is waken up by hotel almost falling apart: walls are cracking, everything is shaking, and a green glow is flowing through the corridors. Turns out, Alastor is asleep and having a very bad nightmare. And unless they want the hotel to fall apart, someone has to wake Alastor up... (reader volunteers as a tribute)

LOTS of angst with a comfor ending? :)

You ask, Anon - and I deliver (at last)! Thank you for being so patient with me! Today just felt right to write this, and I sincerely hope you find it worth the wait! <3 TW: Depictions of Blood - Minors DNI - 2.8k words

The Eye of the Storm

"What the fuck is going on?!"

Another loud boom shakes the ground of the corridor, almost making you trip and fall if not for the handrail you managed to grab. Angels door opened at the other end, a scared squeal of Fat Nuggets faintly audible as Angel stumbled out, clearly as startled and scared as you.

"Fuck, toots, what is that?"

"I have no idea!"

You had no idea, but whatever was causing it, the entire building was shaking like in an earthquake and you were terrified some of the older, worn out parts of your floor could collapse any moment. The cracks on the walls were growing with every rumble, and a bright, green glow had overtook the lamps, turning the usually warm and inviting space into an eerie nightmare.

You exchanged a terrified look with Angel, both of you unsure what to do next. He hurried over to you, his piglet shaking in two of his arms, taking your hand with his free one and pulled you with him. "C'mon, we need to find Charlie, before the fucking ceiling falls on our heads."

You didn't even have the time to reply before the lights went off, a terrified scream leaving your mouth before you could stop it. You heard a string of curses from Angel and felt him squeeze your hand tighter. The both of you ran down the stairs as fast as you were able to in the dim darkness. You tripped several times, but Angel held you steady, trying his best to not fall himself. The lights went on again with another rumble, making the stairway moan like it was in pain.

"Charlie! Vaggie!"

You reached the lobby, where you found the rest of the residents already gathered. Everyone was there, looking shaken and confused, but unharmed. You saw them look around and then up to the ceiling, the cracking of the wood and walls sounding louder and more violent than upstairs.

"Ey, you two, are yo' hurt?" Husk yelled over the noise, his eyes scanning Angel with a worried look.

You shook your head, letting the spiders hand go so he could run up to Husk, who took his pig into his arms and hugged Angel close.

"Is everyone alright? Where's Niffty... and Alastor?" Charlie's voice sounded shaky, and you could tell she was doing her best to keep calm and not freak out.

"I'm here!" The little cyclops girl appeared behind Sir Pentious's hat, her eye wide. "But I think Alastor's not okay."

"What do you mean?" Vaggie asked, her hands stiff on Charlies trembling shoulders.

Niffty looked around, biting her lip. "He has bad dreams sometimes, and he's really scary when he does, and then stuff like this happens. He can't control his powers, and-"

"Wait, so it's HIM who's causing all of this?" Vaggie's eye widened in anger and another boom made the whole lot of you duck as the glasses from the bar fall from their shelves, flooding the floor with shards of glass and debris.

"Yes, but he can't help it, it's his brain messing up! We need to help him!"

Vaggie cursed, while Charlie and the others started to ramble over another.

"Someone has to wake him up, before the hotel really collapses."

"Are 'ya crazy, Charls? We can't go in there!"

"Yeah, at this state, yo' won't know that fucker won't rip yo' to shreds befo' you even reach his room."

"It'ssss better to evacuate, I think."

"And leave the building to fall into pieces? Ugh, maldito idiota de la radio..."

Your head turned worriedly back to the green glowing corridor. Alastor. What the hell kind of bad dream would make him lose control over his powers like that? Niffty said it was his brain messing up, whatever that meant - did he really suffer from nightmares? You felt a sting of worry for the deer demon. You didn't even want to imagine the kind of terrors he had to have in his head to cause something like this.

"I'm gonna go."

Everyone stopped talking and looked at you. Husk gave you an incredulous look, still holding Angel and the pig in his arms. "Y-yo' can't be serious. That's straight-up suicide."

You shook your head. "Someone has to. I'll be fine, just... get out of here, wait outside and make sure no one is getting hurt."

Angel tore himself out of the cat demons grasp, taking you by your shoulders, his eyes pleading. "Toots, Alastor is not himself right now. He can't control what the fuck he's doing, and if he hurts 'ya, I don't... Please, don't do this, that bastard ain't worth it."

You knew the spider demon was worried, and you appreciated your friends' concern, but he didn't know the Radio Demon as well as you did. You were aware of his reputation, the stories of his atrocities and his sadistic nature. You knew how cruel and unforgiving he could be, but you also knew that over the last few weeks, he had shown you a softer, less menacing side. You and him bonded over his love of cooking and your love of eating what he prepared, over your shared interest for record players and classical music and your affinity to magic and the obscure. He could be a lot of things, but he wasn't just the bloodthirsty serial killer most of the denizens of hell made him out to be.

You gave the spider a smile, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Don't worry about me, Angel, it's going to be alright. He's my friend, I can't just leave him in there to get crushed by the building."

Before you could be held back, you started to run towards the stairs. Charlie cried out to you, but you ignored her, you just took a last glance back, shouting as you vanished into the darkness.

"Just trust me, and get your asses out of here."

"Fuck."

The group stood there, unsure what to do, and a loud snap coming from the second floor made them turn and run for the doors.

The higher you climbed the stairs, the more intense the shaking and rumbling got. You had to crawl on the steps at times, because it was too dangerous to walk, and you didn't trust your legs not to give way under you. The walls were splitting, the green light was burning in the lamps, and the air was crackling with what seemed like dark magic, ominous glowing symbols appearing and fading in your vicinity.

When you finally reached Alastor's door, it was already hanging from the hinges. It had probably blown when the magic started to burst out in violent waves, the green glow brightly pulsating and threatening from within the inside. You wondered if your heart could beat any faster without giving way. It wasn't the first time you were scared witless, hell wasn't exactly a carnival. But as much as you believed the best about Alastor, he still was one of hell's most powerful overlords. He still had countless bodies in his name. You trusted him, but if Niffty and the others were right - and it seemed to be the case that they were - he had little to no control over himself when lost in a nightmare. Could a demon like him sleepwalk and kill you in their sleep?

You took a breath and squared your shoulders, turning around to call into the room, not daring to set a foot inside yet.

"Alastor? It's me. Can you hear me?"

The rattling of the sudden radio static made the framed pictures on the wall shatter to the ground, and from the edge of your field of vision you noticed the lights fade once more, turning the already ghost-like bedroom almost black. You reached for the doorway and lowered your voice.

"It's me, you have to listen, okay? It's okay. I just came to check on you. It's safe now. You are safe."

No answer, again. The darkness felt suffocating, as if it was about to crush you any minute. You felt dizzy, disoriented, like a rabbit that had caught the eyes of a fox. You didn't dare say anything else, not until you could at least see him, figure out what was going on. With shaking legs, you took a step over the threshold. The lamps flickered again and you tried your best not to stumble as you scanned the room in front of you in between the shutters of brightness for traces of the other demon.

When you found him, you had to bite down a cry of horror.

You wished you hadn't.

He was curled up and violently shaking on his bed, the covers ripped and laying in pieces around his sweating body. His head was almost between his knees, hair spiky and disheveled and his overgrown and twisted antlers slicing the mattress and pillows with every tremor rushing through him. You could barely see him, the flickering lights making his face obscured in the shadows, but what you could see made your heart sink. He was sobbing in between shattering breaths, his chest heaving up and down erratically and his claws digging deep ridges into his torso as his body jerked and twisted, blood pooling into the covers in deep red.

"Al." You couldn't control yourself anymore. The shock, the dread and worry freed your legs from their stupor and you rushed to the hunched form, nearly stumbling on the ripped fabrics.

His eyes flew open at the touch of your fingers, burning in bright crimson with ticking dials as irises, almost completely overtaking his entire eye sockets. The howling of radio static screeched from his lips as the room shook again as he bared his sharp teeth, his clawed hands swiping at you with violent intensity that send you flying on the ground. You tried to catch yourself, but fell to your side, letting out a pained cry as you felt the wound on your waist, dripping with blood and split wide open.

You watched him with wide eyes as his limbs grew, afraid to even move. His stare was petrifying you, you had never seen such violent, uncontrolled expression on him. He growled, his head turning towards you, his mouth, no, maw opening. He looked like he wasn't there anymore, that nothing left was inside besides a manic creature ready to slaughter everything it crossed. A nightmarish beast in its lair that had cornered a small helpless prey, ready to be swallowed alive.

He got up in one swift motion, the pieces of fabric that once were bedcovers flying through the air and a dark aura creeping into your vicinity. Your breath hitched. You couldn't get out of his range with him like that, the open wound kept you from moving fast, and his maw was so big it seemed he could rip you apart by just inhaling.

"Alastor, it's okay. It's me." you breathed, desperate not to lose hope. There must be something that could call to him in the deepest parts of his mind, something that could snap him out of this lucidity. You scrambled back as he stepped in front of you, lowering his head to meet your eye level. His claws dragged on the floor beside him, and in a sudden, swift move, his large hands grasped you, the pressure on the gash blindingly painful.

"I-It's okay, it's not y-you, it's just a bad dream. I'm here to h-help you. Let me..." You gasped, a sob leaving your throat as his claws started to dig into you.

"Nnnghh... Y...-you c..c-c-an't ...-he..lp...m...m-e-e.."

A snarl left his lips and he raised his face into the air, his arms lifting you effortlessly and you whimpered in fear. Pushing through the hazy fog that invaded your brain, you tried again.

"Please, Al, j-just look at me. Wake up a-and look at me. You'll be okay."

"W...-why d-d..id..-.yo...-u co..-m-e... -h..e-re...?"

The blood loss was making you feel faint, and you lifted a bloody hand, desperate to touch him, to reach the man behind the monster. With blurry eyes, you brushed his cheek, his face just near enough your fingertips reached the fizzing skin. It felt like dipping your hand in pure electricity, numbing and painful, but you didn't care.

"Because you a-are scared and h-hurting, and I care about y-you. What f-friend would I be if I l-let you s-suffer alone?"

At your words, his enormous form shivered, and you felt his grip on you loosen ever so slightly. The dials fixed on you were still ticking, but the red of his eyes dimmed. Your other hand came up, slowly, to take the other side of his face.

"Can you wake up for me, Alastor?"

More growling, more shaking.

"Pl-please. Wake up and come b-back to me."

His eyes flicked, the howling static became more hushed and his ears twitched under the forks of his antlers. You took a shuddering breath of relief as the animalistic stare on his face lost its threatening gaze and felt the buzz under your fingers slowly dying down. The sharpness under your hands subsided fully as you saw Alastor shrink back, slowly becoming aware again of his surroundings. The green glow that filled the room flickered and turned into the familiar oranges and reds. You held onto his face and his eyes, not daring to let him go until he had finally settled and transformed back into his regular form, the last clicks of the vanishing dials fading as his irises turned to dim reds once again.

"What happened. Why are you..." The sound of his familiar voice was all you wanted to hear now. As your legs gave away, you didn't fall however, Alastor's slender hands were quick to catch you, his smile confused and irritated. He let his eyes travel down your arms to the wound and pools of crimson surrounding you, and back at your face, now pale.

"What do you think you are doing, dear." he breathed, settling you down slowly on the ground.

"You had a nightmare. The hotel... everything was chaos. I had to come, had to... get you out of it." you stammered, watching him looking around to see the damage, his face warped in realization as he put the pieces together.

"Fuck!"

It was rare to hear the usually so poised and reserved Radio Demon swear, but for this situation you'd agree it was entirely appropriate. But the hotel still stood and he was back, and that was all that mattered. When he took you up in his arms and buried his face in your neck, you felt the more alive than in the whole time on earth.

"You foolish girl. You could've been killed by my hands."

You let him embrace you, his long arms circling around you protectively and his forehead resting on the hollow of your throat.

"But I wasn't." you said simply, smiling weakly into his hair. Your arms felt heavy but they still managed to find their way onto his back, reassuring and tender, letting him know you were fine, mangled maybe, but alive and there. You stayed that way for a moment, both of you unable to move or say something as you found some grounding in each other's warmth and the now peaceful silence.

The quiet was broken, however, when you heard frantic footsteps in the hall outside and the uproarious group of the hotel staff came charging through the opened door, halting when they saw your display. Alastor didn't lift his head, in fact, he didn't move at all. You turned your head, your hand barely leaving his back to give the speechless group a lazy wave.

"Are 'ya ok? I'll kill 'im if 'yer not, I don't give a shi-"

"You were so incredibly brave, oh gosh, look at all this blood. Vaggie, we need to get the first aid kit!"

"I'll get my mop! And a broom, look at the mess!"

"Aye, this fucker really owes you."

"Umm... this is rather... Should we give thossse two a moment?"

"Lo juro por Dios, un día de estos lo voy a matar..."

Through the mass of noise the others made, talking and fussing and scurrying, you heard Alastor's quiet whisper against your bloodied skin, loud and clear.

"Thank you, dearest."

You smiled, closing your eyes and holding him a bit tighter, even if it made your wounded side sting.

"It's okay, Al. What else are friends for?"

[aayakashii]

Finally managed to finish this fic 🧘🏻‍♀️ this one is for the members of Haku Gfs Club™️ @ghoulspaw @kusanagihaku and @pinkaditty

I just gave it a read so it's not properly edited – I apologize if there are too many mistakes in it ;-; I'm not super satisfied with this one, but I hope you guys like it <3 Also, it's a standalone, so there will be no continuation!

The title comes from a Florence+ The Machine song, Addicted to Love.

might as well face it

You never really knew why Haku didn't frequent Rui's bar. And honestly, you never thought of asking either. Among the thousands of secrets every ghoul always kept from you, that one seemed innocuous enough for you to ignore.

So, when Rui called you at 3am on a weekday, you would never guess he would ask you to escort Haku back to Hotarubi.

“Sorry, doll, you're the only one I can ask to help me with this.” Rui's voice sounded sincerely apologetic. “There's no one else here in the bar, I promised Lyca I'd help him with his homework – and you know how he gets when he's expecting something – and Subaru isn't answering his phone.”

You shrugged, as you changed out of your pajamas.

“I mean, it IS late at night and he’s way more responsible than us. But what happened to him?”

“Oh, you know.” You imagined Rui waving his hand dismissively. “Hakucchi can't hold his liquor very well. He's wasted.”

You pursed your lips, trying hard not to laugh. The thought of the most nonchalant and aloof man you knew tripping on his own feet amused you more than it probably should.

“And why can't he stay in one of the rooms like Haru does sometimes?”

Rui sighed loudly.

“He's adamant on going back to Hotarubi. I'm trying to keep him here for a little longer because I'm worried about him just crashing and sleeping in the middle of Obscuary's woods. Who knows, he could legit die on his way back.”

It was your turn to sigh loudly. A dull headache was slowly forming in the back of your head.

“Okay… I'm going.” You grumbled as you made your way outside of your dorm and into the chilly night. “He's lucky I wasn't asleep yet.”

“Thank you, cutie, I owe you one and Haku will owe you his life~” Rui made a sharp kissing sound on his end of the line, quickly hanging up before you could have any change of heart.

And after a hurried walk towards Obscuary and sincere apologies from Rui, you ended up trudging through the campus with a very much inebriated, heavy, limp-bodied Haku leaning on your shoulder – his sultry voice murmuring nonsensical things in your ear as you suppressed a shiver from going down your spine.

His breath smelled like one of Rui's sweet, sparkly drinks – the ones you drank when you didn't want to wake up the next day with a mean hangover.

Haku really was extremely lightweight, it seemed.

“You smell so good” Haku murmured, nuzzling your head as he leaned all his weight onto your body, feet dragging clumsily on the ground.

Not only were you struggling not to trip and fall headfirst onto the asphalt, bringing a grown man down with you; said grown man made the task all the more difficult as he kept on shamelessly flirting with you.

“Haku, please, can't you help me a little bit here? Try to walk a bit too, come on.” You grunted, pushing him away from you, only to have him throw his arms around your shoulders once more.

“But it feels so good like this.” He murmured way too close to your ear and you gritted your teeth, shutting your eyes tightly in order to keep your thoughts from going to places you really didn't want to visit.

Haku's breathy, silky voice had always been your worst and weakest point. Sometimes you wondered if he knew it, consciously or not. If he did, it would definitely explain how he always sounded just a little bit more husky, just a little bit more sultry whenever you two were alone.

“I can't carry you properly like this, though?! Look, we're already at Hotarubi. Try to walk just a little bit longer, please?” You huffed and puffed, the exertion and the warmth of his body overpowering the cold night and causing you to break a sweat.

“Hmm…” he hummed before rubbing his cheek against your hair, then sighed. “Okay… but just because it's you who's asking.”

Haku straightened his back as much as he could, slinging just one arm around your shoulder, and stumbled inside his dorm. You finally managed to breathe properly, relieved of all the dead weight he had been putting on your shoulder.

Still, you navigated through Hotarubi's slippery corridors quite poorly as Haku's head hung low and he blinked slowly, fading in and out of a drunken sleep while you dragged him to his room.

Once inside, you watched with an amused and exasperated look as Haku stumbled towards his futon, letting himself fall heavily onto it, face down, with a loud groan of someone who subconsciously knew he'd very much regret his choice to drink afterwards.

You wiped the sweat off of your forehead while you walked towards him.

“Sit up just a little bit. You can't sleep with your uniform like this.”

He shuffled on his bed, slowly propping himself on his elbows.

“Trying to get me out of my clothes, are you, Honor Student? How bold you are. Thought you'd ask me out for dinner first.” He murmured with a smirk and half-lidded eyes.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and pushing all of your confusing emotions away. You would not deal with your feelings right then and there. Not when Haku was so obviously out of his mind.

“You can't sleep with your blazer otherwise you'll wrinkle it. Unless you're a Frostheim bourgeois who has a whole collection of these expensive ass blazers. If not, you need to take it off.” you said, exasperated. You held out your hand, motioning for him to give you his clothes.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly, as if you had said something incredibly wise. You very much knew how expensive those blazers were after seeing how careful Kaito was with his. You wouldn’t let Haku just ruin his uniform.

He clumsily took off his blazer and handed it to you.

“You know, rumor has it that I might have been, in fact, a Frostheim bourgeois.”

You were trying so very hard not to notice the scent of sandalwood that clung in his blazer as you hung it on a nearby chair, that you almost didn't pay attention to the little gem of information he seemed to be offering to you. Almost.

“Well... Were you?” you asked with one eyebrow raised.

He grinned mischievously, putting a finger on his lips and shushing loudly. You rolled your eyes at his drunken antics as you scooted closer to help him out of his vest and tie.

“Sit properly so I can help you out of this vest and necktie.”

He pouted, rolling his head back. The sharp pops of his neck made him grimace.

“I think… That you’re enjoying undressing me.” he smirked as his head hung to the side. “You can always do this, you know, you just have to ask.”

You fidgeted in your position and pressed the heels of your hands on your eyes. You rubbed your face, trying hard to erase the tingling feeling on your cheeks and ignore his unabashed flirting.

‘He’s drunk. He’s just fucking drunk’ you chanted in your mind and took a deep breath.

“I’m just trying to help you not ruin the most expensive parts of your uniform, you dumbass.” you muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Haku threw his head to the other side, placing a hand over his heart as if you had just physically hurt him.

“Oh, how cold, Honor Student.” he sighed, head still limp as if he couldn’t hold it upright, but began to shuffle in place as he sat properly on his futon.

You held your breath while you opened his vest as fast as you possibly could, ignoring the heaviness of his gaze. He blinked lazily, eyes scanning your face and your hands as you fiddled with his buttons and then moved to loosen his tie.

You tried not to notice how he licked his lips when you pushed the vest out of his shoulders, but the gooseflesh that pricked your skin was proof that you failed.

“Hey.” He called out to you, voice hoarse and low - the type of voice you had always imagined he would have during early mornings, right after waking up, when his golden eyes would still be glossy with sleepiness.

You shook your head, pushing the thought away, and got up to place his vest and tie on the chair, right on top of his blazer.

“Yes?” you asked, straightening imaginary wrinkles on his clothes only to avoid his eyes.

Haku paused for a moment, as if waiting for you to turn around to look at him. When you didn’t, he took a deep breath and leaned back on his elbows once again.

“I'm so in love with you.” He murmured with a lazy smile on his face and his eyes closed, as if he had just told you the most obvious thing in the world.

You closed your eyes as your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists, gripping the fabric of his uniform tightly and undoing all your efforts of keeping it pristine and straightened.

Despite yourself, you felt a giddiness bubble inside your stomach. You wondered how many nights you’ve spent imagining scenarios in which he would say that exact thing.

Scenarios in which you actually deserved him saying such things while sober and not an overly-affectionate drunk.

You were quiet when you kneeled besides his feet to untie his laces and take off his shoes and socks.

“You hear? I'm in love with you.” He repeated as he nudged you with his knee, opening his eyes for a moment to check if you were actually paying attention. You gritted your teeth, jaw visibly flexing.

“Huh. Is that so.” You answered, bitter and cold, but your dismissal seemed to have gone over his head as he closed his eyes and sighed with a dreamy look on his face.

“Yeah. I love you. So much.”

You shot up to your feet, as if his words shocked you like an electric current, and walked towards his desk to grab his water bottle. You placed it right beside him with a heavy, tired sigh. You really didn't need that at that moment.

“Do you have paracetamol so you can take it if you need it during the morning?”

Haku furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, nose scrunching in a way that he never did while sober. You cursed yourself for thinking he looked adorable.

“Aren't you gonna say anything?” He asked.

“About?”

“I love you.”

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the leaps of your heart whenever he said those words.

“You're drunk, Haku.” You breathed out, looking at him with exasperation in your voice.

“And…?”

“You're spewing nonsense.” You muttered, dusting yourself off only to avoid his gaze and to keep your hands occupied. “Go to sleep and you'll feel better tomorrow.”

“You don't believe me?” Haku widened his eyes, a tinge of hurt audible in his honeyed voice.

“The alcohol is making you say things you don't mean. Go to sleep.”

“You don't believe me.” Hurt quickly changed to incredulity.

“Good night, Haku. If you need anything, you can send me a message.”

“No, wa-wait.”

Haku quickly tried to get on his feet, but the dizziness still clouded his movements and he ended up tripping, falling on his knees. You gasped and kneeled beside him, eyes trained on his knees that had hit the tatami floor with an uncomfortable thud.

“Are you okay?” You asked, hand hovering over his back.

Haku slowly turned his head towards you. His golden slitted eyes glinted with something you couldn't quite understand.

“Why don't you believe me?” He murmured.

You opened your mouth, then closed it – no words made their way out of your lips.

God fucking dammit.

How could you even begin to explain to him all the reasons why you couldn't believe in him – but mostly how you couldn't believe in yourself – no matter how much you wanted to?

“Do you think I would lie about something like that?” He narrowed his eyes, looking at you as if you had broken his heart.

“I don't.” You found your voice after long, uncomfortable seconds. “I just think you're letting the alcohol make you believe things that aren't true.”

He shook his head vigorously and you couldn't help but think that it probably made his dizziness a lot worse.

“I wouldn't let some alcohol make me confess my love for anyone else.” he grasped your hand with a lot more force than you were expecting him to have. You tried to pull it away, but his grip was that of steel.

“Please… go to sleep.” you felt your throat tightening and a pressure behind your eyes.

“I've thought of you every single moment of my days ever since I saw you. You don't get to dictate how I feel just because you don't feel the same way as I do.” his brows furrowed again, sudden aggravation taking up his features.

You almost gasped. Haku never got angry at you, not even when you were a lot to handle, nor when you made his life a bit harder. What an irony it was that the first time would be while he was confessing.

“That's not what this is about.” you shook your head.

“Then what is it?”

You felt your bottom lip quiver slightly. You quickly bit it hard, in order to keep your emotions at bay, ducking your hand down and shutting your eyes tightly.

You briefly regretted taking Rui's call. Opening the can of worms that was your feelings for Haku was probably one of the last things you wanted to do late at night, in the middle of the week. You had spent too much time closing that can very tightly, vacuum sealing it and stashing it in the depths of your mind, only to have all your effort ruined in mere minutes.

Haku placed his other hand on your cheek, gently tilting your head back up. You kept your eyes shut.

“It's okay if you don't love me.” He murmured, the same tinge of sorrowful acceptance in his voice as the one you usually heard when he talked about his family. “It won't change how I feel. I just want to know from your mouth.”

“Haku…” your eyelids fluttered.

“Just say you don't like me. Look me in the eyes and say it. And I promise I'll leave you be.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. His pupils were blown out and you could barely make out the golden ring of his irises. He looked at you with an adoration that could genuinely make you sick.

“I can't.” you whispered and leaned into his touch.

“Then-”

“I can't just doom you, Haku. I can't take you down with me. You can find someone better, someone who deserves you. Someone who isn't cursed.” you blurted out, the words flowing freely from your lips now that the dam had been broken.

“Don't say that.”

“But it's true. I would… I would love to let you love me.” At that, his eyes opened wide and you could almost see hope forming deep inside them. “But I can't, in good conscience.”

Haku leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“Why?”

“It would be selfish of me. What if I die from my curse? You'd be hurt.” You gulped, shaking your head and backing away from him. “And worse, what if I hurt you if I become a monster?”

His hand, still gripping yours tightly, pulled you back close to him. His eyes were wide, wild, searching yours.

“And why would any of this matter?”

You blinked, confused.

“What?”

Haku scoffed, as if you were being absolutely stupid. As if you were the drunk one.

“I already love you. I don't need your permission to feel my feelings. Even if you kept me at arm's length, it wouldn't change how I feel.”

You were quiet as he grabbed your other hand and held both of them tightly against his chest. You could feel the loud and fast thump of his heart against your skin.

“And if you let me, we can look for a solution together. Worst case scenario, we'd be together for less time than I wished for. But any time with you would already be perfect.” He rested his forehead against yours once again. “Even if it was just a second.”

God. Zenji was right when he said Haku was a charmer. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“I wouldn't say this kind of thing to just anyone, though. Not sober, nor drunk. I can only say it to you.” he added, finally.

Your shuddering breath was the only sound between the two of you as you allowed his words to sink into your brain.

Deep down, you knew your hesitancy was never because of his drunken state, although it still kept you on your toes. As much as you were aware that your fears were the main source of your insecurity, a small part of you was still terribly afraid of him forgetting it all in the morning.

You felt his breath get heavier and deeper for a few seconds before Haku hurriedly shuffled onto his feet and stumbled fast towards the balcony of his room, which hovered just a few inches over Hotarubi's lake. You winced when you heard the muffled sounds of him throwing up.

After a few minutes, he dragged his feet back to his room, looking ashamed and terribly disheveled.

“Are you okay?” You asked, handing him his water bottle.

“I'm sorry.” He said, voice raspy after the strain. He took long, big gulps of water before sighing loudly.

“It's okay.” You chuckled, leading him towards his futon. “Go lie down and sleep. Please?”

Haku eyed you with utter indignation.

“We will continue our conversation tomorrow.” he stated, seriously, but finally relenting to your request. You nodded, sighing.

“Yes, yes, we will. Now go lie down, okay?” You pushed him gently, helping him as he tried to get on top of his bed.

“And I will repeat every word I said to you in the morning when I'm completely sober just so you can't say I'm lying.” He continued while you fluffed his pillow and helped him get under his covers.

“Even if I have a huge headache and feel like shit, I will repeat everything.” He muttered, eyes quickly getting heavy as you finished tucking him neatly into his bed.

You couldn't help but smile as his eyes so quickly grew heavy with sleep, while still mumbling incoherent things.

“Good night, Haku” you whispered.

Between long, heavy blinks, he turned his head towards you.

“I love you.” He whispered one last time, before finally letting sleep wash over his body.

Your heart twisted inside your chest – a mix of fear, apprehension and excitement bubbling in your chest and your stomach, that could make you scream. Instead, you watched as his breathing got deep and even, before gently pushing his hair away from his forehead.

You leaned in, placing a faint kiss on his forehead, inhaling the comforting scent of incense that followed him wherever he went.

Against his skin, you confessed.

“I love you too.”

[grandline-fics]

hellooo!!! i really liked your unconscious protector story so i wanted to ask if you could make a story about luffy and zoro in which the reader has the most beautiful smile ever and they would do anything just to see them smile

i think it would be really cute and fluffy😭😭

DESCRIPTION: Your smile is all they want to see

WARNINGS: fluff central, established relationships this time

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro

WORDS: 1,030

A/N:  Thank you so much for the request. I'm still sick so I hope this turned out to your liking! I decided to do it a little differently for these guys but hopefully it still works

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

LUFFY

The first time Luffy saw you smile was the sole motivation he had to try and convince you to join his crew. It was as simple as that. Sure you were a good fighter and someone he was willing to help when you first met but he had been more than happy to just leave things there when he and the rest of the Straw Hats were ready to move on but then you just had to smile. Finally able to express just how grateful you were to him and the others you broke out into the biggest, warmest smile and wished him a safe journey. Only it caught you and everyone else by surprise when Luffy’s hands latched onto yours and he stared intensely at you begging you to come with them. While you were thrown briefly you couldn’t deny the urge to see the world and seeing how sincere Luffy was you could only say yes and follow him loyally. 

Since then he made it his own personal mission to get you to smile at him at least once a day. It was almost like it was as necessary as his meals, sleeping, and water. If he didn’t get a dose of your smile he wasn’t his usual bouncy self. The only time it came close to a full on disaster was when the crew split up into two groups on an island and didn’t regroup until late that night. When you returned you were startled by Luffy tackling you to the ground, shouting your name. Since you were used to your Captain’s impulsive and energetic nature you could only reason his actions were fuelled by excitement. So you could only grin at him and greet him with a warm “I missed you too, Luffy.” After seeing that which he’d been deprived from all day his shoulder’s visibly relaxed and he pulled you into a tight hug. Those in the group that had to suffer their Captain’s foul mood made an unanimous decision to never go with Luffy again unless you were joining them. 

After you and Luffy became an item, he found it so much better because then he could see you smile all the time. You were both practically inseparable and while it was easy to get you to smile before by just pointing out things that excited him he found that being a couple brought new ways to see the thing about you that just warmed him and sustained him so completely. Getting to sit side by side with you on the Sunny with his arm around you and talking about anything and everything always brought a smile to your face, unable to believe how lucky you were. Even when you asked him why it was you he wanted, Luffy could only tickle your sides lightly until you broke out into a laugh and bright grin. “That’s why. It’s my favourite thing in the world.”

ZORO

“Ugh he’s in a bad mood again.” Usopp sighed and you looked across the Sunny to see your boyfriend doing pushups. Silently you looked at the focused determination on his face that the others would mistake to be one of his ‘come near me and I’ll cut you’ moments. However this wasn’t one of those moments. You bit back the smile fighting to creep across your features and you nodded slowly, lightly tapping the sniper’s arm you gave him a convincing reassuring smile and as you walked away you promised “I’ll speak with him.” You knew Zoro was just too focused on his training but you just didn’t want anyone else to bother him. In moments like these when the other’s were giving your boyfriend a wide berth you liked to take advantage of it and have some alone time with him.

Just as his body was close to the deck you lay over him abruptly, knowing that your added weight wouldn’t faze him. You grinned when he paused his workout, body locked in the position. Draping your arm over his shoulder you lay your cheek against his head and grinned. “Apparently you’re in a bad mood.” You told him when he resumed his pushups and made a small uninterested huff.“And you’re risking yourself by being in my very presence?” he asked in a low voice, knowing you were the only one that could hear him and with the perception that he was in a bad mood, no one would be looking his way which meant he could smile a little more openly. 

“Oh don’t worry about me,” you mused. “I know how to defeat you, Demon Pirate Hunter in one move.” Now Zoro chuckled, his workout promptly forgotten and you could tell by his posture that he was done. With a knowing hum you got off of him to let him stand and reach for a towel to wipe his face.  

“One move huh?” Zoro asked, throwing his towel across his shoulders, finding he was already missing the warmth of your brief, distracting embrace. Now he’d just have to settle with you standing in front of him, relaxed and playfully regarding him with your best imitation of his usually stoic expression. “Care to demonstrate?”

“I don’t know…it is pretty powerful. Promise you can handle it?” Zoro rolled his good eye, indulging you. Slowly he folded his arms across his chest and made a single gesture with his finger, signalling you to hit him with this so called powerful move. Unsurprisingly you accepted the challenge. 

Stepping forward you placed your hands on Zoro’s arms and peered up at him making sure his gaze was focussed on your face. Then you beamed up at him with a bright smile that only grew when you felt him tense immediately. “You’re bounty went up again! Congrats, babe!” You cheered, watching in satisfaction when Zoro quickly lowered his head to press it against your shoulder, his arms pulling you close. “Damn that smile of yours.” He grumbled lightly. As much as he hated the idea of being vulnerable in most aspects of his life, he couldn’t hate this.

“You know you love it.” You grinned. He did, he really did.

[ikkyfics]

This is my first time requesting so I'm a little nervous!

Could you maybe write for Dave with a partner that has insomnia and really struggles with sleeping?

For example he would sometimes wake up at like 4 am and just see her on her phone wide awake?

Thank you if you decide to write this! Also please don't push yourself and take care! :)

Until You Sleep

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: When he entered, the steaming cup in his hand, you looked up at him, surprised. “Dave, you didn’t have to...” “I did, actually,” he interrupted with a soft smile. “Here. There’s nothing better than lavender tea to help you relax. Trust me, I researched everything about this.”

Warnings: none!

A/N: dear, i really hope you like this <333 it was a really cute request to write, please also take care

Masterlist

Dave had noticed you. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been paying attention before, but in the past few weeks, something felt different. You had been quieter, your eyes a little glazed, as if they were constantly tired. There were faint, but persistent dark circles that he had noticed while you bent over your college books or during the rare mornings when he woke up before you. It was as if insomnia had stolen some of the sparkle he loved so much about you, and that worried him more than he could express.

That night, Dave woke up suddenly. He wasn’t even sure what had woken him, but he instinctively turned to your side of the bed. You were there, still lying down, but something was wrong. Your silhouette, lit only by the faint blue light from your phone, was still, except for the soft movement of your fingers on the screen.

He blinked a few times, his messy dark curls falling over his forehead as he propped himself up on an elbow to get a better look. The first thing he noticed was the loose shirt you were wearing – one of his, navy blue, with the sleeves rolled up at your wrists. It was a sight that usually made his heart race with happiness, but now it only made him more aware of the fact that something was wrong.

“Hey,” he called, his voice still rough from sleep, but full of a sweetness he reserved only for you. “You couldn’t sleep, huh?”

You froze for a moment, as if you didn’t want him to know, but then sighed and lowered your phone. “I didn’t want to wake you...” your voice came out low, almost apologetic.

Dave leaned in closer, now lying on his side to face you. His blue eyes, even in the dark, had an intensity that made it seem like he could see much more than just your tired face. He reached out a hand to you, his warm fingers brushing against the cool skin of your arm. The touch was gentle, a silent request for you to look at him.

“You’ve seemed so tired lately. I’m worried,” the sincerity in his voice was enough to make you finally meet his gaze.

He slid his fingers down your arm until he was holding your hand, squeezing it lightly. “I know you’re trying to handle this on your own, but... let me help. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

There was something in his tone – a mix of determination and affection – that was so typically Dave. He wasn’t just awake; he was present. Completely focused on you, as if nothing else in the world mattered at that moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?” he asked, his other hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You hesitated for a moment, averting your gaze to the phone still in your hand. Dave’s fingers, warm and firm, traced a gentle pattern on your arm, as if he were trying to convey calm through touch. His question echoed in your mind, simple yet full of meaning. He wasn’t just curious; he wanted to understand, wanted to know how he could help.

“I... didn’t want to bother you,” you murmured, finally responding. Your voice sounded fragile, almost a whisper. “You have so much going on with college, with assignments... It didn’t seem fair.”

Dave shook his head almost immediately, his messy curls moving with him. “That’s not how it works, you know? We’re in this together. If you’re not okay, then I’m not okay. That’s what being together means.”

He squeezed your hand a little tighter, leaning in closer. His eyes were soft, but there was determination in them, a quiet strength that made you want to believe every word he said. “You’ll never be alone in this, okay? No matter what.”

A brief, shy smile appeared at the corner of your lips, but you still seemed hesitant. Dave noticed. He always noticed. Without letting go of your hand, he leaned in closer and placed a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek, just below your eye. It was such a simple gesture, but full of affection that made your chest warm.

“Wait for me here,” he said, his voice low, almost a secret shared between you two. “I’ll be right back.”

Before you could ask what he was doing, he got up. Dave was just in sweatpants, the muscles in his back moving smoothly as he walked to the kitchen. You followed his movement, his messy curls and broad shoulders a reminder of how he had changed since high school. He was stronger now, but still the same Dave – kind, caring, always willing to put you first.

In the kitchen, he moved with careful quietness, trying not to make noise. He opened the small cabinet where you kept the teas and scanned the packages. He had bought those flavors specifically for you, after a long night researching about insomnia. The promises of relaxation and calm were printed on the packages in soft fonts, almost as if they were the solution to everything.

“Chamomile... or maybe lavender?” he murmured to himself, holding both packets for a moment before choosing the lavender one.

While the water heated up, Dave rested his hands on the counter and glanced down the hallway, where he could see the faint light from the lamp illuminating the bedroom. He wanted to do more. He wanted to find a way to lift the weight that seemed to have settled on you, even if it was an invisible weight.

When the kettle whistled, he quickly made the tea, adding a small spoon of honey – just the right amount of sweetness. He made sure it was the right temperature before heading back to the bedroom.

You were still lying there, the phone now resting beside you. When he entered, the steaming cup in his hand, you looked up at him, surprised.

“Dave, you didn’t have to...”

“I did, actually,” he interrupted with a soft smile. He sat down beside you on the bed, holding the cup carefully to avoid spilling it. “Here. There’s nothing better than lavender tea to help you relax. Trust me, I researched everything about this.”

You took the cup, your fingers brushing his for a moment. The warmth of the porcelain matched his expression – so warm, so full of affection.

“You really researched it?”

“Of course I did.” He seemed genuinely proud of himself, the smile on his face growing wider. “And you wouldn’t believe how many forums I read about what works to help someone sleep. Seriously, some people even suggest smelling soaps.”

You chuckled softly, the first time in days, and Dave looked at you as if he had just won the biggest prize in the world.

“That’s so silly,” you said, but you were still smiling.

“It might be, but if it works, I’ll do it.” He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with that intensity so typical of him. “Anything to see you feel better.”

The silence settled back in, but this time it was different. There was no discomfort, only his presence, solid and comforting, like a safe harbor for the storms brewing in your mind.

Dave watched as you held the cup with both hands, blowing gently on the tea before taking a sip. He didn’t take his eyes off you for a second, as if every small movement you made deserved his full attention. It was that kind of thing that made him special – the way he was completely present, even in the simplest moments.

“Is it good?” he asked, his blue eyes fixed on yours.

You nodded, a small smile forming at the corner of your lips. “It’s perfect. Lavender with honey... you really pay attention to everything.”

“Of course I do,” he responded immediately, with a smile that made your heart warm. “I’m your boyfriend. It’s like... my mission to know what makes you feel good.”

The way he said it was so genuine, so full of affection, that you couldn’t help but smile even wider. He seemed satisfied to see it, as if that small gesture was confirmation that he was on the right path.

While you finished making the tea, Dave adjusted himself beside you on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with the pillow folded behind him. He was closer now, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, strong and secure.

“You know,” he started, his voice low, as if sharing a secret, “some people say that ambient sounds help with sleep. Like... rain noises, ocean waves... things like that.”

You tilted your head, curious, as you placed the empty cup on the nightstand. “Did you find that in your late-night research?”

“I did,” he admitted, laughing at himself. “I read a bunch of reports. There are even apps for that, you know? I thought about downloading one, but then I started wondering... what would I do if you said you preferred the sound of a waterfall or something impossible to replicate?”

You laughed softly, and he smiled along with you, as if the sound of your laughter was the answer to all his questions. He extended an arm, gently pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest.

“Well,” you began, your voice slightly muffled, the words vibrating against the firm skin of his chest, “I think I don’t need rain or waterfall sounds.”

“Oh, you don’t?” he asked, lowering his gaze to you.

You shook your head, a near-childlike gesture, as you slipped one arm around his waist, snuggling in closer. “I think I prefer listening to your heartbeat. It’s the most relaxing sound I know.”

Dave was silent for a moment, clearly surprised by your response. Then, his smile widened, lighting up his face in a way that made your chest tighten. He tilted his head slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head, while his hand began gently caressing your back.

“You’re unbearably cute, you know that?” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“You like it,” you replied, with a mischievous smile he didn’t need to see to know it was there.

“I love it,” he corrected, without hesitation. “And I love you. Far more than I can explain.”

Your face was pressed against his chest, and you could hear the steady, constant sound of Dave’s heartbeat. It was a rhythm that brought an almost immediate sense of security, as if the outside world could wait while the two of you remained like this, together.

“It’s beating fast,” you murmured, your voice soft and sleepy, as if it was more of a stray thought than something that needed to be said.

Dave laughed softly, a sound that reverberated through his body and reached you. “It’s your fault, you know?”

“My fault?” You lifted your face just enough to look at him, your brow slightly arched in confusion.

“Of course,” he replied, his blue eyes shining with amusement and something deeper, something more intimate. “You’re here, all cute, wearing my shirt... saying things that make my heart almost jump out of my chest. How do you expect it to stay calm?”

A shy smile appeared on your face, and you looked away, pressing your cheek back against his chest. Before fully resting, you left a delicate kiss there, right where you could feel the accelerated beats. It was such a small gesture, but it carried so much affection that Dave sighed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer, as if wanting to protect you from anything that might disturb you.

“You’re so silly,” he said, but there was a clear smile in his voice. “But, my God, I love this so much.”

You didn’t answer immediately, letting the comfortable silence fill the space between you. It was the kind of silence that didn’t need to be broken because it was full of meaning. The sound of your breaths blended together, and the warmth of his body beside you seemed to dissipate any trace of tension that might still have lingered.

After a few minutes, Dave spoke again, his voice low and soft, as if afraid to break the moment. “I’ll stay awake until you fall asleep.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you replied, your voice slightly muffled against his chest.

“Of course I do,” he said, as if it were obvious. “You’re the most important person in my life. If you can’t sleep, I can’t just ignore that.”

There was a pause, and he took the time to run his fingers through your hair, the movements slow and meticulous. It was a touch you knew he did on purpose because he knew how much it helped relax you.

“Dave...” you began, but your voice faltered slightly.

“Hmm?” He continued with his fingers in your hair, but tilted his head slightly to look at you.

“You make everything feel... easier,” you admitted, your eyes beginning to close as the fatigue finally started to take over. “Even when it feels impossible to sleep... with you, I feel like I can. I love you.”

Dave didn’t answer immediately but left a soft kiss on the top of your head, his warm breath against your hair. “It’s because you don’t have to do anything alone,” he whispered, as if it were a promise. “I’ll always be here, okay? Always.”

The sound of his heartbeat remained steady, and the arms around you were firm and comforting. For the first time in weeks, you felt your eyelids growing heavy for real, and before you could even realize it, sleep finally began to pull you under.

And Dave, as promised, stayed awake, watching you with a soft smile on his lips, as if taking care of you was the only thing in the world that truly mattered.

[elfarons]

OKAY BUT DAD!REN WALK WITH MEEE

cw: gn!reader, fluff, body insecurity, lowkey just a mashup of dilf ren teehee

it took a while to get ren to open up, but you stayed persistent and got them to rely on you for their more vulnerable moments. ren confessed he never saw himself with kids, or worthy of being a parent with you, but after years of just the two of you, you both decide to raise a child.

ren had no more time to overthink the small things because his family was top priority, what with all the late nights taking turns rocking the baby to sleep, staying consistent on feeding and nap times, and everything that comes with raising a human.

as time went on, he would indulge his little family with anything they wanted. going to all his kids school plays, or going to drop off lunch for you at work. all the movie nights of buckets of popcorn or eating all the junk food when out somewhere with you guys.

you guys were his world.

---

but sometimes ren forgets that he's in this together with you.

while in the line for a ferris wheel at an amusement park, you notice him zipping up his jacket and glancing at some of the other younger couples, "i thought you said it's burning hot?"

"i just think the outfit looks better like this dont'cha think?" he ruffles your kids hair when they nod at him, but you know it's deeper.

you pry a bit more and eventually ren relents, "it's just... i look so different from when we first met, and i'm just wondering if i'm still attractive to you..."

you felt guilty for not noticing ren becoming more self conscious and how they didn't wanna burden you with it.

you reassure them that you accept them no matter what, and honestly all you noticed was how good of a dad he's been! you barely noticed that his stomach is a bit more round, his arms a bit bigger, and the hair that now covers nearly all of his skin

but you are IN LOVE WITH IT!

he can easily carry a baby in each hand, he keeps you all super warm in your sleep as the family's heater, and he just looks so adorable fussing over your small children when he's basically a walking mountain.

he's just an amazing parent and his body is physical proof of his love.

---

on a normal day, you would wake up and cook breakfast because you can't trust ren. but one day, you wake up to the sound of ren and your spawn in the kitchen.

wait, ren is cooking?!

you bolt out of bed and run down the hallway to the kitchen, and once you turn the corner, you're.... confused?

ren is sitting on his heels with his head down and letting one of your kids scold him, "papa, i told you a billion times to only use one-four cup, not a full cup! are you trying to kill mama?!" ren shakes his head in shame and puts his head on the floor, going along with their antics, "i am sincerely sorry, sweetie. please do not speak of this to your mom."

you stifle a giggle and walk away to let him handle it, hearing the exchange eventually end with your kid taking over the kitchen and ren as their assistant.

when you finish your morning routine, you go back to the kitchen and ren gives you a special version of their pancakes, with your favorite toppings and your favorite drink.

"you two are so sweet! what is this for?"

the smaller copy of ren smiles wide, and excitedly says, "i watched papa makeyour favorite! he said it's because you make him feel better about himself."

ren nods and adoringly gazes at you, "you helped me through all my problems no matter how small, so i wanted to show you how much i appreciate you"

you kiss both of their cheeks and you all start digging in, ren and the head chef high fiving under the table when you point out how delicious it tastes.

ren thought he'd never make a good parent, but it comes so naturally. you love them even more for it.

author's note: ok hi i literally made this in like an hour bc we talked about him for literally like 10 mins and im CRAZY i need him so byad,, but i hope you guys like this mess :3c

ty kami + cybele for the inspo on the cooking part !!

dividers by @/enchanthings

[eee-lordy]

Practice Makes Perfect

!!! nsfw minors dni !!!

Jacob offers to help fem!reader get her first time over with. 6k

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Ready for your big move?" Jacob huffed, dropping a particularly heavy box onto the top of another. He'd come over to help you start packing up, you had a week left.

"Mostly, yeah I think so." You grinned, knowing he was talking more about emotionally than materialistically. Your eyes scanned the bare bones of your first apartment. It had been a welcoming and safe space for a handful of years now, but the time had come to move onto bigger and better things.

"Let's drink to the beginning of the end, then, shall we?" Your dearest pal declared, toting over glasses and liquor from your fridge.

"Don't say it like that, nothings ending here." You warn, sick at the thought of there being a time limit on your friendship once a little space got in the way. Jacob sat next to you on the sofa, pouring you each a drink.

"Okay sorry, we'll toast to now, then. May we enjoy every moment." Jacob's sincerity past the silly tone he used warmed your confounded heart. So many feelings had plagued you since finding out about your big move. How excited you were for the fresh start, and how you were, in fact, dreading leaving behind everything you loved so dearly, everyone.

As you sat and drank, it was all Jacob could talk about. He asked you all kinds of questions. What the place was like you were headed to, how you may come to decorate the home you were set to buy. How you may plan to spend your time. You fawned over descriptions of some new furniture you'd had shipped to your new place. And excitedly quipped about the plans you were making for the distant future.

"I hope to just go wild. Create a whole new thing for myself, ya know? Try everything, live to the fullest." The realizations that you could become whoever you wanted most to be in an all new place had your imagination running wild since theses plans became solid.

"And what are you most nervous about?" Jacob countered, squinting as if he knew this question was one that might really challenge you.

"Oh... I don't know." You feigned a laugh, hoping your face hadn't flushed red. Because you had been increasingly nervous about one thing, fretting over the many outcomes your imagination brought to life every time you wondered how to take on this certain situation...

"Ohhhh no." Jacob grinned wickedly, shifting in his seat to face you a little more head on, pointing his half full beer in your direction. "There is something, I know when you aren't telling me things, you know?"

"Jacob, can we please drop this?" You plead, feeling like sinking in on yourself for letting your facade drop for even a second.

"All I'm saying is, if you're this nervous about something, maybe I can help?"

"I highly doubt you can help with this one, dude." You let out a mortified giggle, feeling your blush coming back tenfold.

"Hey." Jacob lowered his tone, cocking his head to catch your eye. His were serious. "You know you can tell me whatever it is-"

"Is embarrassing-"

"And I won't judge you. You know that." And you did know. Jacob had told you his own mortifying confessions, from the time he'd lost his clothes in a sketchy overnight gym, to the salacious dreams he'd had about certain unattractive costar way back before you knew him. As you reminded yourself of the story Jacob once told you of his mishap with a zipper during the first night he spent in the bed of a lady, you realized you could tell him what was on your mind.

"Okay fine." You gritted through your teeth, clasping your hands together only to anxiously wring them. Jacob stayed quiet and awaited your words.

"I'm most nervous about having sex." You declared. "Because I'm more than ready to get out there and do it, but the thought of sleeping with some stranger is appalling, and I don't know who I trust enough to ask to see me through that awfully awkward first time. And what if I never meet someone I trust enough, just-" With a disgruntled sigh, you realized you were rambling.

"You're a virgin?" Jacob's mouth twisted into a confounded frown as his head turned much like a baffled puppy dog. Your friends studying of you made you want to slip into nonexistence.

"So what?" You huffed a nervous laugh, daring to meet Jacob's piercing eyes for the first time since revealing your secret.

"It's just I thought you'd have done it, like... a lot." He shrugged. "Being so smokin' hot, and all."

"I am not hot, Elordi, and despite really being ready, I'm way too nervous to do it. That's the whole issue here." You scoffed, taking a frustrated swig of your drink.

"Uh, yeah you are. And what is there to be nervous about, anyway?" He quizzed.

"What if I do the wrong thing or say something weird or just make a complete fool of myself? Or what if I hate it? I'm ready for it. But I really am scared I will never meet the right person to deal with how in my head I am about this..."

Jacob let his gaze fall to the floor, seeming to puzzle over your words. A considerable amount of silence settled about the room before either of you spoke again. He was the one to break that silence.

"Do you... trust me?"

Your eyes widened and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

"I mean, you know I think you're attractive. So, I won't care or even notice if you make a complete fool of yourself. And we know all each other's secrets. That's trust. And if you hate it, we stop. I'm kind of the perfect candidate her, love." His confidence had blossomed with the help of the drinks you two had shared tonight. Jacob spoke with assuredness, letting no signs of awkwardness show in his daring offer. The whole thing had your head spinning.

"Jacob."

"All I'm saying is... if you want, I'm down. If not, I get it." He took a swig, the last of his third glass. "I'm just saying..." Jacob let his sharp dark eyes rake across your figure as you sat in place, trying not to squirm. You considered the expression in his gaze, clearly drinking you in, yet keeping a respectable distance.

"I'll... think about it." And you really would.

He nodded. You nodded. He got up and turned on a movie. You went searching for more to drink. As some rather boring action flick unfolded on your telly, your mind raced. You did trust Jacob. You did find him attractive too. With his angelic features and fit figure. And you wouldn't mind if this little... experiment led to something a little more serious either. But that was a wild far off distant dream. And still, all the things that mortified you about doing it with a stranger made you just as nervous to consider in the company of one of your closest friends.

"It would just be, like, educational right? Just... one friend helping out another?" You pipped up in the middle of the action movies climax.

"It would be whatever you needed or wanted it to be, doll. I'm offering my sincerest assistance." Jacob spoke easily, keeping his apparent focus on the telly screen, settled an inch away from where you sat on the sofa.

You hummed in understanding, acknowledging how both of you kept your eyes glued to the movie on your screen, and that seemed soothing. There didn't seem to be any pressure, there didn't seem to be any stakes. And as you considered your nerves, you wondered if the feeling was more that of anxious wonder. And then you realized there was a way to test this theory...

"Kiss me. Then I'll know." You thought out loud.

"Know what?"

"If you're a shitty kisser or not. And if I'd even dream of letting you sleep with me." You were drunk enough to speak without consideration. You were curious enough to take Jacob up halfway on his offer. You really hoped he wasn't a shitty kisser. You may have let him have his way with you even if he was.

With a decided shrug Jacob leaned in. His lips were soft, the gentle way he pressed his against yours was more than comfortable. You let yourself relax into pressing your own kiss back, and he took that as a signal to deepen his display of affection. And the kiss that began as a seemingly casual interaction took a different form. Jacob let his lips slowly open, encouraging yours to do the same. As your kissing grew longer and deeper, your very dear friend let his fingers reach to brush your hair back; then let his digits press against the base of your neck to pull your lips ever closer.

The gentle forcefulness Jacob commanded brought a contented sigh from your throat, and your friend's smile in response broke your interaction.

"I'll take that as a yes?" He smirked, eyes focusing on yours close up.

"It's just... a lot to consider."

He had kept his hold on you. His hand clutching the back of your head, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hair.

"Listen. I won't push this on you. It's no sweat if you decide against it. But I really would be very patience and more than glad to help you out here. That's the last I'll speak of it. Now, what are we watching next?"

You spent the rest of that evening next to Jacob in mutual silence. You watched films until your friend grew tired and called it a night. All the while your mind raced from one scenario to the next. Wondering what the worst could turn out to be, if you said yes, or no.

///

Jacob stopped by one night later, saying he was simply in the neighborhood and wondered if you'd needed any kind of help continuing to pack up. So, you put him to work, cleaning out drawers and folding clothes into suitcases. You talked a lot while working, about eachothers lives and dreams and silly things. But the conversation kept leading back to the topic of your move.

"I'll be hours away from all my family and it's not like I won't see them but I'll be so alone you know?" You confessed your fears for living in solitude and worrying over worst case scenarios.

"Hey, you'll make it just fine. You don't give yourself enough credit." Jacob insisted, moving about your room from one task to another. "Plus, I'm only one phone call away."

"I know." You whispered, peering up to your friend through your lashes, biting back a frown. You set a roll of tape and a box cutter on a nearby shelf, done with the tools for now.

"This is supposed to be a good thing, a happy thing." Jacob reminded you, shuffling to stand before you. He reached out to tilt your chin upward as if that would encourage a smile from you.

"I know." You whispered again. And with no way of knowing who leaned in first, all you knew was Jacob was kissing you again. And you relished the comfort of his affection. Nothing stopped you now from slinking a lazy arm around his neck as the guy let his grasp splay across your back.

Jacob was the first to break away, like before. But unlike then, he said nothing now. Jacob just leaned back far enough to catch your eye, as one of his brows lifted in a silent question.

"I think I might want to take you up on your offer..." You seemed to realize out loud. Maybe you had always wanted it to be him. Or maybe his encouragement had done the trick of talking you into feeling this way now. But you were never surer about being intimate with someone than now, with the way your dearest friend held you in his arms.

"Yeah?" He nodded with a furrow in his brow.

"Yes, I- if you're really sure." You stuttered.

"I am if you are." Jacob continued to nod. And after a beat, when he asked "Like, now? Right now?" You moved to nod along with him, even though your heart threatened to leap from your chest.

"Okay." He whispered. "You just need to tell me if it gets all too much, no matter what. Promise me you will."

"Yeah. I'm, like, really nervous. That's the big problem. But I trust you, so I am very sure."

"Well, I can certainly help with that." Jacob brought a hand to your hair, "I think." He lightly chuckled, pulling a face, setting your nerves at ease already.

"We'll just go very slow. How does that sound?" He asked, still keeping a hand rested on the side of your head, while his other crept down to the bend of your waist. You let out a held breath and nod assuredly.

"Okay." You flickered a smile. Jacob nodded too, his lithe grin remaining as he searched your face, his eyes landing on your lips. You hadn't fully expected him to agree to this, and you hadn't at all expected things to start right off the bat. But you couldn't complain when Jacob closed the gap and pressed a gently feather light kiss to your lips. As he did so, he tucked a bit of your hair behind your ear, and ever so slightly tightened his grip at the bend of your waist.

This resulted in your hands finding his shoulders, resting them between there and his chest- where you wondered if you were feeling your own rapid heartbeat in your palms, or his.

His lips left yours for a moment, but another feather light kiss came soon after. A couple more small steady pecks made you comfortable enough to fully relax in the hold Jacob was beginning to wrap around you; his hand moving to hold the back of your head, his other moving from the bend of your waist so his arm circled around you.

When your arms slid into a loose hold around the guy's neck again, his kisses started to ever so slightly deepen. His tongue teased your lips, his thumb caressed soothing circles against your rib cage, a delightful hum escaped his throat.

"This okay so far?" Jacob wondered in a hushed rumble, meeting your eyes between kisses. You nodded and softly smiled, waiting for the guy to continue. When he dove back in, his kisses deepened even further, his tongue pressed against yours, his hold tightening, pulling you almost entirely against himself. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, just kissing and letting hands roam against backs and through hair.

He'd barely done as much as hold you close, but you were already feeling the hot coil of desire burning low in your belly, and it was starting to spread every place else. Your every nerve was already on end.

"I could gladly do this all night." Jacob hummed, moving his kisses to pepper your jaw, and then down your neck. "But would you like to go any further? You tell me, doll."

"Sure, we can go further. I just need you to guide me through." You blew out another shaky breath, trying to release the jitters.

"I can do that. Just remember you can tell me to stop anytime for any reason." Jacob kissed your forehead and waited for you to nod in agreement. He kissed your cheek and then your lips, and let his hands begin to roam new territory. his fingers grazed under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the skin of your hips, skin that had never been touched by anyone but yourself until now. It was starting.

"Can I take this off, doll? I'll take mine off too. We'll be on the same page." Jacob sighed into your mouth, and couldn't resist kissing you between words. He left one set of fingers creeping under your shirt while the other gently tugged at the garment.

"I like that idea." You smiled, his lips brushing against yours in a phantom kiss.

He opted for his first, shedding his tee in a lazy fashion, revealing a sight you had seen before, his bare chest. But now was different from the hot summer days you'd been near the guy in such a state. Now you were free to oggel his frame entirely. 

Jacob watched you watching him as he delicately took hold of the base if your shirt, and pulled it up. You lifted your arms instinctively and tried not to shiver in an anxious display of vulnerability.

The man you'd come to trust tossed aside your favorite old concert tee and brought both his hands to the bare skin of your waist. He'd see you in swimsuits and crop tops but he'd never been so close. Never had his hot skin been so easily accessible under your touch. Never had he caressed you in such a state. The pair of you stood there, holding each other in a delicate morphing clasp, for a brief moment. Your breathing synchronized before Jacob nuzzled against your neck and mumble something about how beautiful he thought you looked, and how lovely he thought it was to hold you so close like this. It was almost too sweet, his musings and the gentle way he held you. But the pecks he placed against your neck turned into something fiercer, his teeth grazing, his breathing audible. All the while, his caresses turned too, his fingers pressed possessive against your skin, one hand moving to bring your hips as close to his as possible.

You let it happen, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades and letting out a delighted sigh. You knew this was supposed to be a fun positive experience. But you felt quite unprepared for how much you were enjoying yourself.

Jacob planted another sloppy kiss to your lips, encouraging you to match his energy.

He began to drag you a few steps in another direction, never daring to break away from the kiss you were sharing, until he had to. Jacob eased onto the side of your bed, gently pulling you into his lap. He maneuvered you into a straddle you were happy to settle into, leaving no space between the two of you, as your kisses continued.

"This all okay, doll?" Jacob hoped, as his warm hand made its way toward your breasts, still covered.

"Yes Jacob," you breathed, taking your turn in moving kisses down the man's neck, not totally sure of your execution but lead by passion what could go so wrong, you wondered?

To your delight, Jacob practically melted under your bites and licks, and you were beginning to melt a little yourself, as he kneaded at your bra.

"You can take it off. If you want." You sighed, keeping up your work at his neck, moving from one side to the other.

"Oh, I've wanted to for a longer than you know." He let out a little laugh after his confession.

You sat up to meet his gaze, asking a question with one look.

"You know I've always thought you were beautiful. But I have always wondered just how much more beautiful under all your clothes." Jacob mewled, unclasping your bra after two tries. You let the thing fall away and slide down one arm to the floor, as Jacob ogled you shamelessly. Somehow the moment didn't cause you nearly as much nervousness as you'd anticipated. The way Jacob was handling this new interaction, the way he'd been handling you; caused your nerves that kept arising the settle, provoking much more excitement than you knew you were capable of feeling in a time like now.

"Even more beautiful than my imagination has been able to conceive." Jacob grinned up to you before rolling his eyes closed on his mission to cover you in kisses.

You couldn't hold back your sigh, one you'd never heard yourself make. A noise you didn't know you were capable of producing. Jacob's lips closed around one of your nipples while he let his hand attend to the other. You could feel his pants tightening beneath you, and his messy hair tangled in your fingers as you grasped at something to ground you. Things were moving at a steady pace yet seemed to be rocketing into progression much quicker than you were prepared for.

"Jacob." You reluctantly halted him, grabbing his attention away from making you feel so good. "Jacob, I don't want to stop, but can we slow down a little?" You asked in a shaky breath, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, like you'd just run a mile.

"Of course." He promised, planting closed mouth kisses across your collarbone. "Come'er."

Jacob pushed you from his lap to the middle of the bed and adjusted himself behind you, as you took in a couple deep breaths. Then his hands found your shoulders, and began to massage the tense muscle there.

"Are you still nervous? More or less? What can I do to help?"

"Still nervous. But you've been very patient so far and I can't imagine doing this with anyone else. Thank you, Jacob."

"You're practically a natural," Jacob purred in your ear, keeping up his work on your shoulders. You began to feel more at ease under his touch, and more ecstatic by his words and the tone of his voice. "Nothing to be nervous about."

Your hum gave him a green light to follow his hands with his lips, kissing the trail of his massaging.

He soon let his hands start to wander, keeping his face in the crook of your neck as his hands trailed lightly across your chest and tummy, stalling for a brief second at the hem of your pants before ghosting back up to brush at your already exposed skin.

You flipped around crawling into a position closer, moving to undo the button of his pants.

"You sure?" Jacob asked quickly, waiting for you to nod before shedding the trousers as lazily as he removed his shirt.

"Want me to do yours?" He asked, not wondering if you'd rather handle the task, but if you were ready for the next step to be initiated at all. You told him you were ready, looking right in the guy's hooded deep brown eyes.

Jacob gently pushed you against the stack of pillows at the head of your bed. For one small moment, you paused to look at each other and smile. And then your friend shifted and reached for the button of your trousers. You watched as he hooked a couple fingers in the hem to peel the fabric away from your body, his eyes drinking in every newly exposed inch of you. You helped kicked away the pants, as Jacob reached to pull you back into his lap. In one swift move, you pushed him back into the pillows. You relished having the boy pinned below you, as you closed in for another kiss.

His hands traced across the expanses of your skin, his warm form settled beneath yours in the very best ways. You began to let your fingers trace patterns across his chest, feeling the hammer of his heart. Now both clad in nothing but underwear, the thin fabric allowed for you to feel more exactly of how worked up you'd gotten the boy.

You weren't nervous now to roll your hips against his. Or even if you might've been, they seemed to move on their own accord, your body seeking to satisfy its growing desires. Your rocking against the man's lap grew quietly more confident, and in the matter of a couple grinds you had Jacob whimpering against your lips.

Jacob gently pushed you from his lap, moving to hover over you in turn. "Okay?" He asked more succinctly but paused and watched for your confirmation just as patiently as every time before. And right as you began to nod, Jacob pressed his clothed hips against yours, encouraging your legs to open a little wider to make space for him. He kept his eyes sharply focused on yours, as he kept grinding, palming at your breast all the while. You were overcome, the coil in your belly tightening, and you hadn't even gotten to the good part.

His hand that had been working at your breast traveled downward, stalling near the hem of your underwear. Just as Jacob opened his mouth to ask if his next move was allowed, you were quicker. You grabbed his forearm and gently pushed his hand past the fabric of your undergarment, immediately glad for it.

His fingers found their way gently to your heat, giving subtle barely there caresses to the part of you that was most sensitive. Your toes curled and your heart stalled as he touched you with such tender intention. The pair of you managed to settle side by side, and without discussion, you reached to move Jacobs fingers to the spot he'd been nearly close to finding. The feeling that followed sent sparks through your nervous system, and your own hand shot out toward Jacob's underwear in response. You didn't ask, you simply slid your digits up and down the clothed length of your friend's crotch, relishing the shuttered breaths he released as you did so. The pair of you kept this up for a short moment, kissing when you weren't stealing each others breath away.

"Can we get to the part where you fuck me?" You sighed, worried that if you didn't do so soon, in the midst of your highest confidence, you'd lose the nerve. Jacob let out a quiet chuckle as he nodded, moving to shed the last of both of your clothes. Gentle as ever, he took as much time with this process as ever, making you more at ease and anxious for the next step all the same.

"Are you sure?" Jacob worried, settling between your legs. You kept one hand against his face and the other set of your fingers grasping his shoulder. You nodded quickly between shaky breaths, your nerves heightening slightly at the realization this was happening. But then Jacob shook his head. "I'm not doing anything until you relax, doll."

You were fully aware of your uneven breathing and the tensing of your body, due to the anxiousness that threatened to swallow you whole. You wanted this, you really did. But that didn't stop your nervous system from going a bit haywire during such an unprecedented situation.

"Relax." Jacob repeated. He petted your hair back and smoothed a hand across your shoulder, attempting to ease the tension you held there. You tried your best to settle a bit more comfortably against the sheets as the guy spoke up again. "Take like four deep breaths, and relax." Jacob guided you through his desired number of focused inhales, taking them in just as deeply himself. You closed your eyes during the last couple and felt yourself truly a little more at ease by way of Jacob's help and kind focus. You watched the guy breath out same as you, the fourth time, and after a beat he gave you a subtle nod.

"Good, that's better. Now, are you super sure?" He prompted, letting his hands hold you firmly against him, not daring to move until you gave your full, more at ease, confirmation. When you said yes with a smile, Jacob smiled too, and proceeded to line his hips up with yours.

As he pressed into you slow and steady, he cooed in your ear. Mumbling pet names and sweet encouragements about how good you'd already made him feel. Between his saccharine words and the pressure between your legs, you were done for.

Your breathing quickened all too soon but wasn't as shaky and uneven as before. Your skin burned with want. Your legs spread far as they could. He placed a loving hand against your temple, and you gripped his wrist as he began to move his hips in a sinfully slow manner.

The press of his lips to your throat was made more intimate by the grazing of his teeth there too. The speed at which he rocked into you began to increase, your heart rate following suit. everything felt better than you could've even fathomed. You were glad you did this with someone you knew and trusted. Someone whose hands were familiar to at least some parts of your own body and whose voice was welcomed in your ear. So glad you were doing this with someone you'd let do it all over again. So glad you're doing this with Jacob.

"You're doing so good, so good, nothing to be nervous about." The last word of his sentence was abruptly cut off by a growl the man couldn't seem to hold back.

Jacob was relentless now, pulling your hips against his as he rocked so hard against you, the bed frame kept hitting the wall. You couldn't imagine feeling much better than this, but then he asked if you were close to reaching your breaking point. You realized you'd never known before, and you really weren't sure now. "I don't know." You admitted with a twinge of worry. "It feels so good, Jacob, but I-I don't know." A sigh escaped your lips as he hit a certain spot within you. He grumbled encouragement in your ear, saying it was okay that you didn't know, and kept up his efforts.

"But I can't hold back much longer, I'm sorry." Jacob cried, his movements becoming sloppy, still heavenly though. It was your turn to encourage him, and let him know it was okay to come undone. Jacob was a goner soon after your brief pep talk, pulling himself from you as his seed spilled across your stomach. As Jacob caught his breath, he promised to go hunting for a towel to clean you up as you propped yourself on your elbows.

"Is it disappointing that I didn't come?" You worried, sitting up a little, catching your own breath. Jacob smirked, and petted back your hair, settling a little closer to you.

"I'm just glad you didn't fake it. Sometimes it just takes practice to know how to make it happen... to find out what you like, ya know?"

"Yeah, I s'pose." You contemplated, a bit cross that it hadn't happened, because it was half the reason you were eager to get this first time sorted out, so you could know how to handle yourself. Jacob had spotted a towel a few steps from your bedside, and was quick to retrieve it. And as he sweetly took to cleaning up the mess he'd made about you, he spoke up.

"You know, I never said our little educational experiment was over..." Jacob was smug, but turned up a brow to nod seriously your way and in a moment that made your cheeks flush even still after everything that had just occurred.

"Would... would you?"

Jacob said nothing. He simply dove back in to kiss you again, with more passion than ever, you thought. The man pressed you to lean against the pillows once again, as his fingers danced lower and lower down your abdomen.

"You seemed to like when I did this." Jacob cooed, letting his fingers ghost over your heat for the second time that evening, grazing a certain spot you'd once helped him find. You sucked in a breath at the feeling, giving Jacob the green light to proceed with more vigor. He pressed his fingers against you with more certainty, swirling more meaningful circles in that one spot. Jacob watched as you bit your lips together, struggling to keep an undignified moan from bursting from your chest.

"Think I must be doing something right." You friend boasted, keeping up the motions he'd settled into perfectly making. All the while, he moved to kiss you. His mouth, you were certain, must've left marks peppered across you skin as his lips moved from your neck to your throat, to your breasts and down further and further and further.

Once his lips ghosted across your core, you knew you were done for. The man let his tongue replace his fingers, as his digits moved to slide inside of you. His hair tickled your thighs, and every sensation added up together was nearly too much to process.

You thought Jacob's hands were magical, his lips and tongue were mind blowing. His warm breath, his teeth grazing, it was all more intense than you'd though it could've been. Your back arched, your hips rolled, and Jacob shouldered closer, putting as much vigor into this process as he could manage. Now, you suddenly seemed to understand the answer to his previous statement. You were close, now. You had to be. Your every sense buzzed and all you felt was increasing ecstasy.

You couldn't begin to hold back your cries of pleasure now, as Jacob worked you into a frenzy. He kept up his efforts until your legs shook, and only when you nudged his head gently away from it's latch onto your lower half, did he cease.

"I would ask if you enjoyed that but I think I know the answer." Jacob grinned, crawling to lay at your side. You laid in a daze, wondering how someone could've gotten that reaction from you. Of course it was Jacob who had.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and for no good reason at all, you both burst into a fit of laughter. Exhausted giggles, that died down when a cough alerted you to how dry your throat had become from all the harsh breathing you'd done.

Jacob insisted on taking care of you, finding water for the pair of you to drink and escorting you to the shower. You pulled him in with you, and talked about silly things as you washed up, comfortable as before in your friendship.

"Hey, thank you. I really was so scared to go through all that. But you made it easy. You made it fun." You confessed, as Jacob wrapped a towel around your frame. He ran his hands up and down your arms, warming you from the chill of the room.

"Thank you for trusting me. You'll never know how much of an honour it was, really." Jacob nodded sincerely, before pulling you into an embrace. He went home shortly afterward, promising to see you soon, and joking that he'd more than happily help you practice again, anytime. You laughed along with him, and secretly hopped he wasn't joking.

///

After he left, sleeping with Jacob constantly played back in your mind. The phantom feeling of his body lingered about your skin. You thought of little else than your dear friend, as you moved through the motions of the next day. So, to remedy your fever for the lad, you called him and asked about meeting up for dinner. He responded quickly insisting he'd love to, and that he would swing by your place a little later on. Time dragged on as you counted the minutes until he arrived.

When the knock came at your door, you opened it with perhaps too much excitement. Neither of you said anything, and a brief moment of silence filled the space between you.

"It's still a little early for dinner." You schemed. Jacob quirked a brow, stepping in as you stepped back to make room for him. He shut the door behind himself, as you crossed your fingers behind your back... "Maybe... to kill time, we could do what we did the other night?" You hoped, casting a hopeful glare up to the man before you. And before you even finished your sentence, he reached out to pull you closer, crashing his lips against yours once you'd finished talking.

It wasn't long until he had you lifted from the ground in his arms, your legs wrapped around his torso as he moved to throw you on the sofa.

"You do have a lot still to learn." Jacob smirked, untying the joggers that hugged your hips.

"But we are eating later." You demanded, craving a certain local restaurant.

"Well, I'm not waiting till later." Jacob growled, smiling as he lowered himself between your legs right away. The night spiraled into a mess of moans that were familiar to you now. When the pair of you were spent, you cleaned up and went to dinner, and then parted your separate ways.

After that night, there were four days until you were set to move away. And Jacob showed up at your door every evening with a different excuse each time.

He'd wanted to see the newest horror film in the local theater. You left halfway through to fuck in your car. Jacob mentioned that practice made perfect, and he was more than happy to help you hone this craft. You'd wanted to throw a party with all your friends before summer sent you each different way's. A whole soiree was planned in which you and Jacob skipped out early on; because the broom closet you'd snuck into wasn't giving either of you enough space to work with, and you'd both concluded this may be the last chance you got to really participate in your new found hobby.

But the next day, he found his way over all the while. And neither of you had to ask. It was only a matter of time before he had you pinned against the bathroom counter, and you'd never been happier. Just as you began reaching your climax, Jacob spoke up between sighs, "I don't want you to leave."

"Then come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me." You manage to get out the words before losing all composure. He followed close behind. But you both knew finding release together wasn't what you meant when you asked him to come along.

As you both caught your breath, Jacob brushed your hair back, and let his eyes consider all of your features. As he took too long to respond, you decided to draw a bath, and invited him to settle among the bubbles with you, where you brought up your question one more time.

"We've had lot's of practice, you know." You settled across from the man you'd come to know better than you ever expected. "Maybe we can go pro. Make it official?" You watched Jacob watch you, as you spoke.

"Was this your plan the whole time? You're twisted way of getting me to fall for you?"

"No, I genuinely just wanted your help that one night. Then it turned into many many nights. And now I don't want to ever have to worry about practicing with anyone but you."

And so after a few more rounds of questions of answers, it was decided. Jacob would follow you to a new town to live a new life. But with your oldest friend at your side and under shared sheets, you weren't so nervous about all the new things you would get to encounter, together.

───※ ·❆· ※───

[queenie-the-court-jester]

A devil in disguise

Yandere fantasy ocs x gn reader

They're not really yandere in this fic, I'm saving that for later

Tw: none that I can think of, not proofread 🌺

⭐you were just an ordinary villager. Living in a cottage you Inherited, making a living by owning a bakery in the nearby village. You didn't think there was anything appealing about you. Nothing making you stand out. Well, the villagers thought differently. It was mainly filled with different mythical races, making you the only human.

⭐one day you were setting up shop like always, a suitor or two trying to get your attention when suddenly screams could be heard from outside. Rushing to see what was the commotion, a young.. girl? Man? Was fighting off a horde of wild goblins. Littering the ground with their little bodies. They fought valiantly, slashing one after the other.

⭐in the end they came out victorious, but heavily injured. You herded the other villagers away, a bar maiden helping you pick up the adventurer and taking them to your little bakery. She set them down and quickly left as you looked for your first aid, carefully cleaning up the blood and grime off their face.

⭐you did end up requiring to remove their clothing to better patch them up, sincerely hoping they wouldn't feel uncomfortable once they woke up. You stayed overnight in the bakery since your cottage was pretty far and you didn't want to leave the newcomer alone. The sound of fabric rustling woke you up.

⭐ lifting your gaze upwards, you were met with big green eyes staring into your own, faces inches apart. Their blonde hair was messy and a strand draped across their face. They reached a hand out, and booped your nose before pulling away. Intently observing the room.

"uhm.. thank you for fighting off those feral goblins. What is your name, sir or ma'am..?"

"Gideon. What is your name, lovely?"

"y/n. It's a pleasure to meet you"

⭐Gideon thanked you repeatedly and offered to help you out for a bit. You agreed, and with the time they spent with you,you learned they were a he. They didn't mind any pronouns, just that they were born amab.

"you see. I was on my way here to wait for my friends when I noticed those nasty green bastards hiding in the bushes. I couldn't just let those vermin attack such a lovely village."

"you're very brave Gideon.. I wish I knew how to swing a sword"

"I can teach you, if you'd like my dear"

⭐ Gideon shows you the basics of wielding a sword, he offered to show you how to hunt game aswell. The first hunt came out.. interesting. He'll have to make you exercise with him daily from now on.

⭐2 weeks have passed now, Gideon was helping you bring groceries into your cottage when you heard a loud yelling coming from not too far away

"GIDEON!? IS THAT YOU?"

⭐ turning around, you spot a girl who seems to be your age standing a few feet away. She seemed tired yet so elated. Gideon set down the basket carrying the vegetables and quickly rushed over to her

"darling! Oh there you are! Where are the others? Are you alright? You're not hurt are you?"

⭐the girl waved off his worrying, about to say something when suddenly she turned her attention to you

"Wow.. well hello there gorgeous~"

⭐the girl walked up to you, wiggling her eyebrows and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You could only stare at her and laugh in mild amusement. After Gideon thoroughly disciplined her on why she shouldn't flirt with people she doesn't know, you learned that their entire party were on their way to recollect him.

⭐so now you had 2 roommates. It was pretty fun, they helped with chores and kept you company. Darling seemed to really like your bakery, helping every chance she could. They enjoyed being with you, you were so much fun! They knew they'd have to leave as soon as the others came, so One night, the two waited for you to go to sleep. Talking outside near a pond, a bit far away from the cottage

"I don't know Gideon.. they're not exactly built for adventuring with us.."

"yes.. but you weren't built for this life either. We trained you. And we can do the same for our little y/n. They already knows the basics, We'll just need to convince them before the others arrive"

⭐and that's what they did. For the next three days, they kept pestering you to join their party. So don't worry, they'll train you. Aren't you tired of this boring life? Don't you wanna explore? Just find someone to run your bakery for you until you come back!

⭐and that's how you ended up here. Catching a ride on ogmund, the party's barbarian tank. You were happily chatting away, braiding his hair while you were at it. He told you all about his tribe, orc traditions, his past adventures. You nodded along, adding input every now and then

⭐darling was walking alongside you both, chewing on something, you don't know what, and holding ogmund's hand. The orc seemed use to the girls touchy nature. Darling was the party's druid. Specializing in healing and natural magic. Her little ears would twitch, with the occasional flick of her tail. Panther hybrids were so cute.

⭐Gideon was the party's paladin, you remembered they told you about their reasoning for choosing this life. As a boy his family was slaughtered, leaving only him and his younger sibling rougé Alive. Their mothers were brothel workers while their father was the owner. Don't ask them about their family.

⭐rougé was the party's bard. They were a half elf, like their brother and very flirty and touchy with whoever they deemed as a fun pick. Darling seemed to be their main target since she gets easily flustered. You had the sneaking suspicion they often slept together with how their physical affections towards her seemed too intimate. The only reason they didn't come after you so often was because they didn't ogmund to snap their spine in half

⭐mikal was the party's sorcerer. A stubborn little prick, proud and haughty. Just give him a good thwack on the head and he'll shut up. Once, you you were playing with his hair and he stood rigid the entire time. Simply nodding when you'd compliment his beautiful silver locks. It contrasted well with his near black skin. Who knew dark elves were so sexy? (Fucking everyone)

⭐venus was the party's cleric, and boy, darling had massive beef with him. For what reason? You don't know, they just really fucking hated eachother. Venus, out of everyone, was the most reserved. It'll take you a whole to tear down his walls but you'll get there eventually.

⭐from what the party told you, you were on your way to save a couple friends. You were practically buzzing with excitement, your first real adventure! Maybe you'd find a fighting class that suits you best while you're at it.

⭐ blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes staring at you from stop the trees..

[aboutchriss]

Bed bugs

Pairing: Idol! Chan x fem! reader

Genre: smut, fluff, maybe crack idk

Warnings: slight choking (just a hand on the neck, nothing more) (f! receiving), dry humping, oral sex (m! receiving), make-out session, cuddles, mention of Chan's room.

Author notes: when I first started writing "Physiotherapy and Coconut Oil" back at the beginning of October, I was convinced to write it as fluff, mainly because I can't write smut; after a couple of weeks, I left it in my drafts, and leave it there till the first two weeks of December, I was under heavy medication bc I had a painful surgery on my foot, and the only thing that helped to go through insomnia caused by the pain was writing that story, I wrote and wrote day and night, and it helped so so much, that's why I was shocked when @ardef38 asked for a pt 2, so here you go love, I hope you like it.

(Kinda proof read, it’s 1:40 am as I’m ’reading’ this so, be patient I’ll correct any mistakes later)

Fun fact: I do really ride motorcycles since I was 17 (and yes I may be reckless).

Word count: +4k (I got carried away I’m sorry)

Thank you so much, I really, really appreciate all the feedback, I love you all.🩷

Sincerely Glo

As always, requests are open!

-✉️

I'm so insecure about my English. As I said, it's not my first language, and I'm always scared to make mistakes or stuff like that. So, if you find mistakes, please let me know. I'll be thankful, and my English will improve!

-✉️

Part one is here

"Stop moving. I'm trying to sleep."

he mumbles on your back

"I can't, I'm sorry."

You mumble

"Why? What is happening, baby?"

he asks, hugging you tighter

"Uhm, I'm sorry my insomnia is bothering me, I-i don't know why."

"What can I do for you? A cup of tea? cuddles?"

he asks

"I don't know either, honestly, usually I stay in bed and stare at the ceiling."

"It's a common thing?"

he whispers, almost like he doesn't want to be heard by someone

"What? That I can't sleep? Oh yeah, definitely.”

you say, turning yourself towards him

"Mh"

"You should be tired, you know that? after a full day of work and after what we did."

he says

"I know, Channie, but my brain can't shut down."

"I have an idea."

he says, hugging you tighter, your head on his chest with his hand between your hair

"What?"

you ask, looking at him

"Shhhh, just close your eyes and relax, okay?"

"Mh, okay. I doubt that whatever you're about to do, you'll make me fall asleep."

"Shshhh"

close your eyes

go to sleep

know my love is all around

dream in peace

when you wake

you will know I'm still with you

He repeats the verse over and over until you don't hear him anymore.

You know that you fall asleep because of his voice and the lullaby that he was singing, and the way he was stroking your hair gently, but mostly because he's warm; one time, someone said that he's like the feeling of walking in a warm room after spending the whole day out in the cold. It's true he really is like that domestic feeling.

"Good morning, ray of sunshine. How did you sleep?"

he asks you when you walk into your kitchen

"Oh, good morning. I thought you were already gone and good. I don't know which magic you've put in your cuddles and voice, but I haven’t slept like this in months."

you say

"Gone? No, I had to make you breakfast since I've slept over and used your bathroom to shower. I also used your body wash. Now I know why you smell so good."

he says while working on something at the stove

"That's why the bottle is half empty."

you giggle, hugging him from behind

"I'm sorry. I'll rebuy it for you."

he says

"Ya, it's okay, you don't have to. you smell like me now,"

"Yep, and trust me, I love it."

he says

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm"

"Aaah, you're warm, Channie it's freezing today even if it's mid-summer."

you say, hugging him from behind

"It has rained all night, we didn't notice because we were...umh...busy."

he says, turning towards you

"Busy...yeah...Chan, oh my god, it was...did I do these?"

you ask, touching his neck and chest

"No, no, it was a bed bug."

"Ehi -you slap his chest- I-god, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. we got carried away, didn't we?"

he says, touching your neck and making you shiver

"Definitely, but I'm going to be honest I don't mind it and I don’t regret it.”

you say, smiling and kissing him on his naked chest

"Chan...-you say, sniffing around- something is burning."

"NO THE PANCAKES!"

he quickly turns towards the stove, swearing and mumbling against the burnt cakes

"Fuck, i-i wanted to make you breakfast."

he pouts, looking at the burnt pancakes

"It's okay, Channie -you giggle- thing like this happens when you're distracted."

"So you're saying that is your fault?"

he asks, looking at you, one of his dimples popping out

"Yeah, definitely."

you laugh

"Okay, put something on. I'll buy you breakfast."

"No."

you say

"Yes."

he says

"No."

"Yes."

"I said no."

"And I said yes."

"Channie, you don't have to"

"But I want to"

he says

"But-ugh, what if people see us around."

you say

"You're part of the staff, and we can go to the JYP cafeteria, the one inside the building."

"Mh, okay, but with one condition."

"Which one?"

he asks

a smirk appears on your face

"I don't like that smile."

he says

"I'll take you to the building with my motorcycle."

"You-you can ride?"

he asks

"yeah, I thought you liked it when I did it on your-"

"Shsh, don't-shut up, okay, okay."

he says, covering your mouth with one of his hands

"You're not reckless, aren't you?"

he asks with a worried tone

"Me? Reckless? absolutely not."

you smile

"That smile...I don't trust you."

"Not my business, Channie."

10 minutes later, you are in the elevator, and funny to say, but both of you choose a black hoodie (mostly because you have to cover your hickeys and not to catch a cold since the air is fresher)

"You copied my outfit."

you say, looking at him

"Do it look like I'm wearing Doc Martens and leggings?"

he asks, looking at you

"No, even if you would look good in leggings, but your outfit is total black, just like mine."

"I always dress like this."

“I aLwAyS dReSs LiKe ThIs”

You mock him

“It’s true, my whole wardrobe is black.”

"Yeah, but you still copied my outfit."

you smile, walking outside the elevator, Chan being by your side

"Jagiya.."

he says

"Mh?"

you say, not paying attention to the feeling that you felt in your stomach after that nickname

"I'm scared."

he says, looking at his feet

"About..?"

you say opening your garage door

"I've never been on a motorcycle."

he says shyly

"It's okay, Channie. There is a first time for everything. I'm going to explain everything, okay?"

"You-fuck, you can drive this thing?"

he asks

"Yeah, she's my baby."

"Baby? it's huge, how can you manage to drive this?"

you shrug your shoulders, looking at him

"I just do it, just trust me okay?"

"I do trust you."

he says

"Yeah?"

you ask, looking at him, and he simply nods

"Okay, big boy, put this on."

you say, giving him one of your motorcycle jackets

"I hope it fits; one of my friends gifted it to me, but she took three sizes bigger than mine, and I couldn't return it."

"It's a little bit tight on my shoulders."

he says, closing the zip

"It fits perfectly; you have protections, so it has to be tight."

you say, zipping your protective jacket

"It's weird. I'm not used to tight things."

he says, putting his backpack on his shoulders again

"Now, move, I have to take the motorcycle out of the garage. Can you grab the two helmets there? and when you're out, close the door, please."

you say, pointing at a wood cabinet. You press the clutch and move backward with the motorcycle; when the bike is in the correct position, you press down the stand.

"Okay, give me these."

you say, taking the helmets from his hands

"I'm going to put the helmets on you, okay, and I'll explain everything."

you say, putting the helmet on him. You do the same with yours

"Does it feel loose?"

you ask

"No, it's perfect."

you can see him smiling even if half of his face is covered

"And now -you press the inter-phone button- can you hear me?"

"Oh yeah, it's like you're inside my head."

he giggles

you turn on your bike, leaving her roar

"Damn, it's loud."

he giggles

"Okay, so -you say, straddling the motorcycle pushing the stand up with your foot- use that thing to get on and sit here."

you say, patting on the small sitting place for him

"Are you sure you can-?"

he asks

"Yes, trust me, Chan, I've been riding since I was 17."

you smile at him

he sits behind you, getting more comfortable once the bike is stable

"See? You won't fall; both of my feet are on the ground."

"Keep your feet there when we're on the road, don't put them on the ground at a red light or a stop sign. You have to put your arms around me tight or on the tank, especially when I brake; you'll feel it, so don't worry. When we take a turn, you have to follow me with your body. You're basically my shadow, or even better, my backpack, so follow every movement I make, okay?"

you say

"Yep"

"Now, arms around me."

you say, waiting for his arms

"Hold on tight."

you say before pressing the clutch with your left and putting the first gear with your left foot

"Here we goooo."

you say

"Oh my god, we're moving, ahah wow."

"Hold on tight, Channie."

you say, patting on his hands

"That's-wow, oh my god."

"You want me to go faster?"

you say once you're on the road

"Fuck yes"

he says

and you do as he said. You accelerate and shift gear; the sun has been out for hours, so the road is dry now.

"How does it feel?"

you ask him

"It's like, I don't know how to explain it."

"Freedom?"

you suggest

"Yeah, yes, that's the right word."

he says

"That's why you do it? I mean, that's why you drive?"

you hear his voice through the inter-phone, and you simply nod.

"Can you go faster? I wanna feel free."

he says

"Of course."

you giggle, and you shift once again the gear, the two of you speeding in the streets of Seoul, zig-zagging between the buses, cars, and taxis

"Oh my gooood, too fast, too fast"

he almost screams

"Ahahah, just hold onto me, and you'll be fine, Channie. Trust me."

the grip of his arms around your waist getting tighter

"You're crazy."

he says

"I know"

"And reckless, and oh my god, I want to do this every day."

he says

"I know -you laugh- should I pick you up tomorrow?"

"Oh, I—I'm not that brave. God, you have a big pair of balls to drive a thing like this. I could never."

"Oh, you could, and you would look so hot in one of these, with a compression shirt on-ush what a vision."

you say

"Are you fantasizing about me?"

he asks

"I mean, yeah, you as a biker? damn, Christopher, I would be on my knees."

you say, teasing him

"You were on your knees for me yesterday, and definitely, I'm not a biker."

he says, teasing you back

"I- you- uh- I hate you."

you say

"Yeah, yeah, it was clear with all the 'oh, ah' that you were whimpering against my ear last night."

he says, placing one of his hands on your thighs

"Oh-you-shut up"

you say, glad that he can't see the color of your cheeks

"Here we are person that I absolutely hate, and it's banned from my house."

you say braking and turning off the motorcycle once you're in the proper park

"Oh c'mon, I was joking -he says, taking off his helmet- I'll never mention cute whimpers again."

he pouts

"Shhh, are you crazy talking about this here?"

"Right, 'm sorry, where do I put this?"

he asks, lifting his helmet

"Oh, just bring it with you."

you say

"So...umh, breakfast?"

he asks, breaking the silence between the two of you

"Yeah, breakfast."

you sigh, looking at him, his hair messed up because of the helmet

"Ladies first"

he says, opening the front door of the building for you

"Oh, what a gentleman."

you say, walking toward the elevator, bowing to the person who just stepped out of the elevator

"Yeah, gentleman."

he mumbles, pressing the number three, and once the elevator doors closed, you talk

"What you're mumbling about?"

you look at him

"Nothing"

"Chan, c'mon, you can't do this after what we did."

"I'm -he sighs- I let you go first to look at your ass in those stupid leggings, so I'm not a gentleman."

he crosses his arms

"Oh, well, I'll make sure to put them more often."

you say, shrugging your shoulders

"You're not mad?"

he asks

"that you look at my ass when you can? No. You literally saw me naked, so that's nothing of this -you point at your whole body- that you haven't seen."

"Mh, good to know."

he smirks, and once the lift doors open, he goes

"Ladies first, of course."

he winks at you and you can do nothing but laugh at him.

after a couple of minutes of indecision, his indecision actually, he brings to the table two tall cups of cappuccino and a piece of cake for him

"You sure that you don't want a bite?"

he asks, offering you a piece of pie

"Hundred percent Chan"

you smile at him

"Do you have to work today?"

he asks

"Uhm... no, I don't think so, actually. I'm here just for breakfast—you giggle—why?"

"I have to meet with Han and Binnie for some fixes on a new song and do the usual Sunday live, so...would you mind coming with me?"

"I- you- you want me in your studio?"

"Yes"

"The one where no one is allowed?"

"Mhmm"

he nods, sipping on his cappuccino

"The one where the darker aura Christopher works?"

"Yes, that one."

"Mh, okay, if you... don't mind having me there."

you shrug your shoulders

"I don't mind it. You have a relaxing effect on me."

he says

"Interesting"

you say, sipping on your coffee

"The boys are already there. Should we go?"

"I follow you, mister dark aura."

"Oh, shut up."

he says, looking at you

"Hello everyone"

he says, entering in the studio

"Hi Hyung"

the bandmates say at the same time

"Oh, y/n? Hi, what are you doing here?"

"I-uh, I saw him in the middle of the street, he was like an abandoned puppy."

"Hey"

he says, sitting down in his working chair

"So I offered him a ride on my motorbike, and to pay me back, he offered me breakfast."

you laugh nervously

"You ride a motorcycle?"

changbin asks

"Yes? why does everybody find this weird."

you say

"I don't know, you don't look like someone who rides a motorcycle."

Binnie says

"But I am."

you laugh, sitting on the couch in the studio

The three men start working on the new song. You're not paying too much attention because

1. you're too distracted by the way Chan gets so severe when he's at work, so bossy but at the same time gentle with his members

2. you're working too, on your phone, but you're working, planning all the appointments with the members and the artists of JYP

"Oh, looks like someone had fun last night."

you hear Han's voice, and you're head snaps toward his direction so fast that you hear a crack in your neck

"Yeah, you weren't home last night. Where were you last night, Chan?"

Changbin says

then you notice that Chan took off his hoodie, revealing all the hickeys and bite marks on his neck

"What?"

he asks, looking at them

"Your neck Chan, what the fuck? What did you do?"

Han asks

"Uh, bed bugs."

he says, typing and clicking on his computer, not paying too much attention to them

"Yeah, a big one."

Han says

"One with human teeth"

Changbin laughs

"Oh shut up, the two of you."

Chan says, his cheeks turning pink

"Who is she?"

asks the two gossipy men

"No one, it was a bed bug."

he says once again

"Do you know anything about this?"

Changbin asks, and both of them turn toward you

"Uh, bed bugs are big these days."

you shrug your shoulders

"Mh, yeah."

they look at each other with a smirk

after a couple of minutes, they stopped asking about his marks and focused again on their work, recording some chorus, laughing when someone went out of tune, and listening over and over again at the song till it was perfect

"Aaaaand we're done."

Chan says, stretching up his arms in the air and clapping at the work of 3racha

"Aaaagh, I'm hungry."

Changbin says

"Me too."

Han says

"Hyung, y/n wanna join us for lunch?"

"Oh no, I must go now, maybe next time."

you smile at them

"I have to do the live so."

chan says

"Oh, okay."

they say

"Bye Hyung, Y/N see you on Tuesday."

Han says

"Bye guys, see you."

you smile

"Hyung, see you at the dorm and make sure to eat, or you get nervous, little bed bug…See you on Tuesday."

Binnie says, smiling at you and closing the door behind his back

"HOW THE FUCK DID HE?"

you say, covering your face with your hands

"He's not stupid."

Chan says

"But don't worry, they won't spill anything to anyone, that's for sure."

he gets up from his chair, locks the door of the studio, and walks toward you

"Ugh, are you sure?"

you ask, your voice muffled by your hands

"Yes, I trust them with my whole life. They're nosy, I know, but we have a rule: what happens or what we say in the studio stays in the studio."

He says, sitting next to you.

"Are you sure? I- I loved hat we did, and I love our bond, but I don't want to lose my job, Chan, I've worked so hard to be here, and I don't want to ruin everything because I had sex with you."

you say, looking at him

"Ouch"

he says

"No, no, I don't want you to think that I'm using you because I'm not okay? I loved our friendship way before what happened last night."

"I get what you're saying, y/n, don't worry, it's just that you're...I don't know…after what we did, I don't know what are we? friends? Best friends? friends with benefits?"

he looks at you

"Friends with..."

"Benefits, you know, two friends that have sex occasionally but remain friends."

"Yeah, Chan, I know what friends with benefits are."

"So?"

"What?"

you ask

"Friends with benefits? it will be our dirty little secret."

he says

"Mh, friends with benefits"

you nod

"Let's start this thing from now, yeah?"

he says, pulling your face towards him

"Yes, fuck yes."

you say, breaking the distance between the two of you, kissing his plumped lips again

"The door is locked, and we have about thirty minutes."

he says between the kisses

"Ugh, not enough time."

you say, pulling back from him

"We can go back to my place after the live, yeah?"

he nods, kissing your lips again, more roughly this time. You shift your position, straddling him, your legs on the side of his thighs

"It's not-that simple to- touch you with these stupid- mhpf yoga pants."

he says, kissing your lips

"You said that you loved them."

you say

"Yeah, and now I hate them; I can't touch you properly, which frustrates me."

He says, pulling you closer to him. You can feel his bulge against your clit

"It's okay, we don't need to take our pants off."

you say, smiling at him

"What- why? c'mon, I wanna see that pretty pussy of yours."

he says, frustrated, leaving his head against the headrest of the couch

"Mh, not now."

you say, starting to grind on his hard bulge

"Oh shit, what- do it again, please,"

he says, placing his hands on your hips, guiding you back and forth against him. You kiss gently his neck, trying not to bite him or suck his soft skin because his neck is already a mess.

"You- god"

he tries to say, one of his hands traveling around your body, grabbing one of your breasts under the hoodie

"Uh? you're not wearing a bra?"

he says

"Nope, free the nipples, Christopher."

You laugh while looking at him, poor guy, he looks desperate

"Fuck, full access all this time? Why didn’t you tell me? God, y/n, you're going to drive me crazy."

he says, kissing your lips. You laugh in his lips and keep grinding on his hard cock

"Please take your hoodie off, I want- at least I want to see your boobs."

"Uhm, so needy, aren't you?"

you ask, and he simply nods

you take off your hoodie, shivering, not because you're cold, no it's way too hot in the room, but because of the way that he looks at you; it looks like he wants you to eat you alive, literally. He licks his lips, looking at your boobs at then looking at your face, his eyes jumping between your two twins and your eyes

"What?"

you ask, looking at him, moving a clump of hair from his face

"I want to suck them."

he simply says

"Then do it. Don't be shy, Christopher."

"Oh, don't call me like that."

he says, looking at you, his eyes darkened

"I know that you like it, just admitted."

you whisper to his ear

"Mphf, if you don't stop grinding on me, I'll cum in my pants."

he says

"And? there's no shame in cumming in your pants, I love to see you so desp-shit"

you say, trying to find any other word to say, but your brain is short-circuiting, his tongue is moving around one of your breasts, sucking on the nipple, while with one hand, he pays attention to the other one

"I wanna live here."

he says, sucking and biting your nipple

"Mhpf, in the studio?"

you tease him even if you know what he meant

"Mh -he breaks off the contact between his mouth and your breast- between your boobs, I want to live here, they're-fuck, they're like a warm marshmallows."

you laugh

"I'm dead serious, y/n"

he looks at you so seriously that you have to cover your mouth not to laugh. You kiss his lips, making him smile

"You're going to be late, so let me do something for you, yeah?"

you say, shifting position and getting on your knees in front of him

"Oh fuck"

he says, pulling his pants down, revealing his hard dick

"You're going to drive me crazy, you know that?"

he says, caressing your face

"That's the point, Christopher."

you say, kissing one of his naked thighs

"Please, jagiya, please."

he says in a desperate tone. That nickname again, heavy like a rock on your chest, just friends with benefits, correct?

So you do what a good friend would do, you take his boner with your hands, stroking him up and down a couple of times, licking the tip, focusing on that particular sensitive part, making him whimper.

You take all of him in your mouth, breathing through your nose; you look up at him, his head on the headrest, his eyes closed, enjoying every moment, one of his hands in your hair, scratching your scalp gently.

You keep working with your mouth and tongue, adding once again your dominant hand, just because you can't take all of him in your mouth.

"Jagi...fuck."

"Uh, language, please."

you say, taking him out of your mouth without stopping working with your hand.

"How am I supposed not to say bad words when you're on your knees sucking me off?"

he asks, looking down at you

"You're dramatic."

you say, retaking him in your mouth, you know that he's about to cum because he's throbbing in your mouth

"Baby, i'm-i'm about to."

he can't even finish the sentence that a load of fluid goes into your mouth, you swallow it all the way.

You clean the corner of your mouth with your fingers and stay on your knees, looking up at him with a stupid smile on your face.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He says, pulling his pants up

“I’m not looking at you in any particular way.”

“Yes, you are, come here.”

He says, patting the place next to him

“Thank you”

He says when you sit next to him

“You don’t have to thank me, Channie.”

“I have to, I told you that you have a relaxing effect on me. And I’m talking generally, not when we...do other stuff, you know, even when we do them, but..."

“I get what you’re saying, Channie.”

You giggle

“Aagh, come here.”

He says, placing a hand on your neck and pulling towards him

“No, wait, I’ve just…”

“I don’t care, y/n, just kiss me, please.”

You sigh, and you kiss his lips, it’s a quick kiss, almost as if you did it every day

“You’re going to be late.”

You say, touching his forehead with yours

“I know, but I have to do it, it’s a safe space for me, and stays.”

“I know”

You say, pecking his lips once again

“I’m in my studio, I wait for you there, okay?”

You say, putting your hoodie on

“Mh, okay, thank you y/n, really.”

He says, kissing your cheek

“That’s what a good friend would do.”

You smile at him

“Yeah, good friend.”

He echos you

“Bye, bed bug.”

He says when you unlock the door

“Bye, Channie -you giggle at the nickname- don’t forget to put your hoodie on.”

“I won’t, thank you.”

He says, smiling, dimples on full display

Good friends, right?

A friend that has marked you all over your body

A friend you would go to live with just to have breakfast ready every morning

A friend that makes you feel butterflies,

A friend that fucks you till your brain short-circuit

A friend who makes you fall asleep while singing and cuddling

Maybe he’s more than “A friend”

A/N: me after writing this 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Tag list: @paboswriting (because of the mention of biker Chan, we have an obsession about him)

[zara-renata]

And hope to die | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: A continuation of the 'wholesome apple boy' Caleb fics I started before he was released. I'm still getting the hang of his voice. You wake up from your reoccurring nightmare about Caleb dying, only to find that he's alive, but you keep having trouble trusting that this isn't all still a dream. Caleb takes care of you, through your anger and your disbelief. Your boyfriend drops by, and Caleb is on his best behavior in sending him back on his way. Caleb x mc, Caleb x f reader. This story contains: angst, fluff, a traumatized and deeply angry mc, codependent Caleb and mc, nightmares involving serious bodily injury and Caleb's death, nsfw sexual content, cheating [mc may or may not sincerely think it's just a dream, sorry nameless boyfriend, you can't help not being Caleb].

It’s always the same.

No matter the season. 

You are falling.

Not flying.

You are falling. 

The fall is endless.

The terror of hitting the bottom never lessens.

There is never relief, never growing numb to the sensation of plummeting, of the imminent end.

You fall through rain

You fall through snow.

You fall through cherry blossom petals.

You fall through sun drenched, blindingly blue skies.

You fall, and there is nothing, and no one, to catch you.

Until you fall into his body.

As always, it is he who catches you.

You sit up, panting, big chest heaving. You feel the strength in your arms, your powerful thighs. You smell your own sweat.

You turn, and you see yourself. You, not the Caleb you, the body you’re currently in.

You look wrong. Small, fragile, vulnerable. That’s not you. You’re indestructible. You can survive anything.

You hate that this is how he must see you, as you look at yourself through his eyes.

You turn. Look out the window. A bright, sunny day.

You’re at the dinner table, there is news on the TV. Explosions throughout the city.

You’re worried about Gran, you’re worried about Pipsqueak, her new, dangerous job.

You’re carrying secrets that even though you’re inside him, he won’t reveal to you.

The dinner continues. You watch yourself respond to your Hunter’s watch, you follow yourself out the door, concern rising, frustration that your help is being rebuffed. You send yourself into the cornerstore. You buy vinegar, condiments, what you demanded he buy to keep him busy. You return to the bright, sunny day.

You argue with yourself. You snap at him, cut off his complaints. Lie to him. You’re so frustrated with yourself, why won’t you just listen to him? Let him continue to shelter you, as he has done for the only part of his life that matters to him?

You turn, lead the way back to your childhood home. You say something cutting, sarcastic to him, trying to create more distance, keep him at arm’s length, he who is you, whose body you’re in. 

Your heart hurts, beats painfully. You go in first, as you have been ordered to do by your princess. 

It happens so fast, but there is still pain. So much pain. And then—

You fall into your own body. You wake up, slowly, painfully. The fire is raging, consuming the carcass of your childhood home. 

You’ve been here before.

But this time, he’s outside the house. Instead of his necklace, it’s his big body tossed over the walk leading up to the house. He looks intact, whole in way that you know is impossible.  

You crawl to him, hope surging, despite the impossibility. Maybe this time, it’s different.

Maybe this time, there will be a different ending.

You crawl to him—everything hurts. You push yourself up on your arms, lean over him. 

He’s so beautiful. He could be sleeping. His sweet eyes, closed. His long, straight nose. His full lips slightly parted. You just need to wake him up.

Caleb.

You call to him. You call to him, softly, and then loudly, as he doesn’t respond. You reach up, caress his cheek, as you remember him caressing yours so often when you were younger.

Open your eyes, Caleb.

He doesn’t move. 

You’re desperate. You’re yelling now, screaming. Your throat hurts.

Caleb. Caleb. Caleb.

You’re desperate. You let yourself do something you’ve never allowed yourself to do before.

You lean down. You lean down and press your trembling, panting lips to his.

You kiss him. A soft press, first. Then harder. 

Wake up, you say against his lips. Wake up.

Wake up, you beg.

You frame his cheeks with your hands, touch him tenderly, fingertips drifting along his skin as you kiss him, over and over, untethered from gravity. 

Wake up.

You kiss him for a lifetime.

Finally, he opens his eyes.

You make a noise in your throat as he opens his eyes, and he kisses you back. His lips meet yours, press for press. Soft and alive.

You stare into his pretty purple eyes, the pink shimmering in the flames of your childhood home.

You could fly, with the relief, the realization that he’s not dead. That he’s fine—he’s fine, and he’s kissing you back.

You draw your hands from his cheeks, slide your fingers into his soft, soft hair, pull him closer.

He smiles against your lips.

You can pull harder, if you want.

You grin, laughing breathlessly. You’re overcome with relief, with desire. You slide your hands further into his hair, around the sides of his head, toward the back of it, to cradle it in your palms.

Your fingers don’t meet. They meet air instead.

Empty air.

You pull back. Stare into his face. He smiles at you one last time, before closing his eyes again. Before going limp. You tenderly turn his head in your hands, reluctant to pull your gaze from his beautiful profile. But you do. You have to.

You let your eyes drift, over his soft brown hair, the curve of his precious ear. To where his hair, his bone ends.

You stare at the back of his skull, no longer intact—you stare at the gaping wound of where his mind, his brain, the core of him should still be.

But it’s empty.

You start to scream.

It’s always the same.

You wake up screaming.

It’s always the same.

Sweat-soaked. Heart broken, and yet still pounding so hard in your chest it feels like your ribs are breaking, all over again.

Again, and again, and again.

You hate falling asleep. You hate waking up.

It’s why you’ve never spent the night at your boyfriend’s.

You meet him somewhere, out. Surrounded by other people. Have nice, pleasant dinners. Take in a movie. Go back to his place. He makes love to your body with his body that doesn’t remind you of Caleb because he’s shorter, less muscular. He smells wrong. 

Not bad. 

He’s just not Caleb.

But he was there, in the blurry haze of the aftermath of Gran and Caleb’s deaths. A nice, inoffensive presence, across the bar. 

Normally you wouldn’t have accepted his offered drink. He didn’t look enough like Caleb. Sure, he was tall, handsome. But not tall enough, not handsome in the right way. He would have done nothing for you before.

But after Caleb dies, you can’t stand to be reminded of him, when before, you tried to find him in everyone you met. Poor facsimiles, but enough for one night of fantasy in your head.

When you tried not to call the nice guy back, after the first time you went home with him, he persisted. For weeks. Sending cute, self-deprecating texts. Flowers to the reception of the Hunter’s Association. When can I see you again?

He was dogged in his pursuit of you, as you left him on read. As you accepted the flowers, gave them to Tara, to Nero, to Simone.

One day, the pain was simply unbearable. You needed a distraction, from your twisting, racing thoughts. From the same nightmare, every time you went to sleep. 

You called him back.

But you still never slept at his place.

Now, you wake up from the nightmare, as you always do, with your throat raw, your heart wreckage on the ground, knowing that you are simply moving from one nightmare to the next.

The nightmare of reliving what happened to Caleb, and the nightmare of waking up to a world where he’s dead.

It’s always the same.

Except this time it’s not.

There are arms around you. Warm. Big. A scent you’d know anywhere, in any lifetime, fills your nose. You want to cry. You’ve learned not to trust these aftershocks of the nightmares. Where you’re so desperate for the world to still contain him, that you hallucinate he’s here with you, holding you tight. You can’t believe it. You squeeze your eyes shut, tight, tight, tight. 

You try to roll yourself into a ball, a little shrimp, he used to call you, but the strong arms don’t let you. He holds you fast against his own body, where you’re lying… somewhere. It feels too cramped to be the bed.

“Hey, Pipsqueak. Open your eyes,” a boyish voice you’d know anywhere, in any lifetime, murmurs in your ear. Even as he grew huge, worked so hard to gain heavy muscle, his voice stayed so cute.

A cheek, rough with stubble, against your own.

You can’t. You can’t, only to find this is not real, again. This has happened to you, so many times before.

“It’s not a dream,” the voice says. “Open your eyes, let me prove it to you.”

You want to cry. But you do as he says, every time. How can you not?

You open your eyes and see Caleb looking down into your face—his expression soft, warm. Everything you remember of him.

You feel like time has stopped. You’re disoriented, on your couch. Faint, orange-tinted light pours in through the windows of your apartment. As if the sun is setting. It’s always this way, waking up from a nap, the rare times you have time to actually fall asleep during the day. As if you’re coming from another life, from such a great distance. But now it’s even more disorienting, as the dream of Caleb alive and warm underneath you feels so, so real.

“Caleb.”

It’s all you can say.

“That’s right,” he says, full lips curved in a soft smile, eyes crinkling at their edges. “It’s me.”

He’s stretched out on the couch, one arm bent behind his head. His chest is bare, as it was before you fell asleep. You’re lying on top of him, head lifted from where you’ve been resting it against his big pectoral. He runs his metal thumb languidly across your lower lip as you look up into his face, as he looks down into yours.

“You’re dead,” you say, your heart pumping, pumping, painfully in your chest. The nightmare is still with you. You’re afraid to believe him when he says he’s here, that he’s real. That the nightmare is over.

“I felt like I was, for awhile,” he says gently, letting his thumb fall away, moving his new arm across your back, his big, hard hand, clutching your hip tighter. The pressure is a little too hard. You like it. Maybe it will leave a bruise. “But I’m not dead. Check for yourself,” he invites you. His hand releases you.

You sit up, straddling him, his hips. You stare at him. Let your eyes drink him in. The healthy curve of his intact arm, leisurely bent behind his head. The soft dark hair in his exposed underarm.

“You can do more than look. Why don’t you touch me, if that’s what you need? I’m right here, and I’m real.” He sounds amused, teasing. As if the past year is something you could ever joke about.

You can feel the anger, the fury, close under your skin. But you’re not ready to release him yet. You’re not ready to punish him yet. You’re not ready to retreat again, as you have done for years now, ever since he left you stranded on the ground amidst the wreckage of his broken promises. Right now, in this orange-soaked, suspended moment in time, you can’t resist accepting his invitation. You’ll be mad at him, soon. You’ll make him suffer, soon.

You can’t help it. It’s in your nature. He should know. He’s the only one who knows.

You trusted him with everything, with all of you, and he left you, and then he let you think he was dead.

If he’s actually alive. If this all isn’t still just the cruelest nightmare you’ve ever had. You don’t think you’ll be able to survive waking up and finding him in the ground again.

You shake your head, the feelings inside of you so big, your body can hardly contain them. You can’t bring yourself to decline his invitation. You need to touch him again, to feel him. After so many years of your hands being empty, even as you were touching other people.

But you have to carve out an escape route, even as you accept his invitation.

You will never leave yourself exposed, vulnerable, like you spent years being with him, again. Only in this moment, hanging suspended, spinning lazily between the nightmare and the truth, will you let your heart finish what it starts every time you wake—you allow it to jackhammer through your ribs, crack them open and allow him to see inside.

But he needs to know that this moment is a clumsily drawn card, slipped into his pocket. Caleb’s right to a time out in a fight, valid until the end of the day of its use. 

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you say. “You’re a stranger to me still.”

His face falls. He looks so hurt, for such a brief moment. But then he takes a breath. His eyes soften. You recognize their indulgent affection from when you were younger, and trusted him. “Whatever you say, Pipsqueak. I’ll accept it, whatever you need to say to yourself, for however long you need to say it,” he murmurs.

You reach forward, cover his pretty, gentle eyes with your hands. “I mean it. Don’t look at me like that.”

He laughs, and it sounds infinitely sad. “I’m just lookin’ at you like I always do. I can’t help it.”

You run your fingers over his face, trace his thick, dark eyebrows. Let them drift across his forehead. You take your thumb, and smooth the frown there. He closes his eyes. 

You move your hands, sending your fingers into his soft, silky hair. You let your blunt nails drag across his scalp, and you feel him shiver underneath you. 

You swallow, terrified. Pause your hands in their trajectory that you know you must follow in order to reassure yourself that he’s here, that he’s okay. That the nightmare is finally over.

But you’re so, so scared.

You’ve been here before. Your hands in his hair. Moving towards the back of his skull.

“Caleb,” you plead.

He opens his eyes. The colors of a rainbow oil slick, the colors of his evol, the colors of your dreams. 

You clench your teeth. You’re trying so hard not to cry in terror.

His eyes drift from your face to your neck. 

He reaches up with his silver hand, slips his index finger through the silver chain around your neck. His necklace slithers from underneath your shirt as he pulls. He keeps pulling, gathering the excess length of the chain in his palm, the faint clinking of the metal necklace against his metal hand loud in the quiet room. When he has most of it fisted in his hand, he continues pulling, gently.

You don’t try to resist—you let him pull you down to him. You rest your forehead against his, your hands still clutching his hair.

His breath is warm, sweet against your lips. 

You’ve had this dream before. Your heart is racing, in terror, in response to his proximity, after being so far apart for so, so long.

“Caleb, wake up.” You can’t help it. The plea comes out of you without thought, without effort, like it always does.

Your hot tears hit his cheeks, despite your clenched teeth, your effort to keep them in your eyes, where they belong. He has no right to see them. He never had any right to see them, even when you trusted him.

“I’m awake, baby,” he says against your mouth. “I’m right here. I’m right here, and I’m never going anywhere again.”

He’s promised you before. Promises you’re not sure he ever intended to keep. “You’re dead,” you whisper.  “You’ve been dead for so long.”

“I’m not,” he insists, for the first time sounding a little desperate. A little impatient. As if he has any right to feel impatient. As if he has any rights at all, if he’s actually alive. If he’s actually here, under your hands, and this isn’t the same nightmare it always is, with a more bitter flavor. “I’m not dead. Touch me. Keep touching me,” he urges, softly. “Until you’ve convinced. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Take all the time you need. Just touch me.”

You let his words fill you. You let him nudge against your cheek with his nose as he asks this of you, let his breath in through your parted lips.

You clench your teeth again, brace yourself. “I’ll never forgive you, if you’re lying again.”

He laughs, breathless, eager. “But you’ll forgive me, if I’m telling the truth?”

You tighten your fingers in his hair, hear a little gasp pulled from his lips, puffing against yours. “You’re in no position to negotiate. All I said is that I’ll never forgive you if you’re fucking dead,” you bite out. “If I wake up from this, and you’re still dead, I’m going to take a bulldozer to the cemetery. I’m going to reduce your headstone to rubble. I’m going to gather the gravel in a big fucking sack, along with everything of yours I still have, every last scrap of paper, piece of fabric, your stupid little model planes, the tiny, pathetic number of things salvaged from the fire, and I’m going take my friend’s yacht to the deep ocean, and I’m going to weight the lot of what remains of you. I’m going to fucking sink it. I’m going to make sure that the last bit of you is as far as you can get from the sky as possible, forever.” You breathe. You breathe, and you whisper, “And I might have to tie it around my neck, and go down with it, if you’re fucking lying. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He stares into your eyes, and you’re too close to tell what the rest of his face is doing. He doesn’t blink. 

You take a deep breath. Let it out. You don’t care if your breath stinks from your nap. He’s probably fucking dead. And you’ve felt dead, for longer than he’s been dead. What does he care? What do you care? “So no, I won’t forgive you if you’re telling the truth. But I won’t bury you as deep as I possibly can if you are. You can fuck back off to your precious, wide open sky. In either case, you don’t get to haunt me anymore.”

In the silence that follows your promise to him, there is only your breath. His breath. Your heartbeat, and his. The city outside your window is just a quiet ocean you’d like to drown your dead brother in, the cars are waves breaking on the shore.

“You have to keep living,” he finally says, as if nothing else matters to him. “You can have everything else. But you don’t get to die.”

“You don’t get to decide what I can, or can’t do anymore, Caleb Xia,” you snarl, and your anger gives you the courage to force yourself to send your fingers further into his hair, curving around his precious head.

You let out a sob when your fingers meet each other at the back of his head, with his hair, his scalp, his skull intact underneath. 

“Caleb,” you keen, and he finally moves. 

He surges up, taking you with him, your hands still buried in his hair, clutching the back of his head. He wraps both of his arms around you, metal and flesh, and squeezes you so, so tightly. You bury your face in his neck, and you wail like an animal.

“This doesn’t change a fucking thing,” you sob. “You’re not dead but you’re dead to me, do you understand? I don’t give a shit where you’ve been, or what you’ve been doing. Fuck you, Caleb. You let me believe you were dead for a year.”  

He holds you even tighter, absorbing all of your fury, all of your hate, all of the feelings inside you that are too big for your skin, like he has always done. “I know,” he whispers. “I know.” He lifts his left hand and holds the back of your head, gently, gently, and rubs the other along your back, up and down, up and down. He listens as you rip yourself open and let all your venom out, soaking him in it, and he holds you, and he soothes you, and he takes it all.

The daylight has drained from the world while you were exploding in his arms. The lights from the city are the only illumination in your otherwise dark apartment, as you finally slump against him, utterly exhausted. 

“Feel better?” he asks, turning his head, nosing along your temple.

You refuse to answer him, even as you try to snuggle closer to him.

He just laughs softly at your mutinous silence, your traitorous body that refuses to let space come between yours and his yet.

“How about a shower? Might make you feel better.”

“Nothing will make me feel better,” you grumble. You sniff his neck, savoring his warmth, the familiar smell of him, and then deliberately rub your snot and your tears into his skin. 

He just laughs, like he’s ticklish, when you know he’s not. Or like he likes your snot and your tears all over him. 

“Idiot,” you say.

“Hey now, be nice.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “C’mon, Pipsqueak. A hot shower, and then a hot meal. I’ll make you whatever you want.”

You sigh. “I don’t have any food, remember?”

“A hot shower, a trip to the grocery store, and then a hot meal,” he amends the evening itinerary.

“Sounds like work,” you complain. “It’s my day off. I don’t do any work on my day off,” you lie. Because you often work on your days off. It’s another thing that bothers your boyfriend.

Shit, your boyfriend.

You remember the events from earlier today. Seeing Caleb through the crowd. Leaving your boyfriend behind. Letting Caleb take you home. Even though you have no idea how he knew where you live, how easily he got here, without looking at his navigation system while he drove. He has never been here before. You never invited him after you moved in.

You stiffen in his arms.

“I’ll do all the work” he interrupts your racing thoughts. “You don’t have to do a thing. I’ll take care of everything.”

You pull back, feeling like your face is twice its normal size, your eyes puffy and raw from all of your crying. “I promised my boyfriend I’d call him later today.”

There’s another flash of emotion on his face, there and gone again before you can decipher it. “It’s not every day you reunite with your closest friend back from the dead,” he says carefully. “He’ll understand, right?”

You stare into his eyes. He looks so earnest. He sounds so reasonable.

You don’t miss how he still refuses to refer to himself as your brother.

Closest friend.

Tara has never taken weeks to respond to your texts. Has never missed an important event for you.

Xavier has never made you think he was dead for a year.

Sylus has never broken a promise to you.

Rafayel responds to your texts immediately.

Zayne disappeared for years, but didn’t make you think he was fucking dead. 

You wonder who your closest friend is, now. 

You wonder who your brother is, now. What he’s been doing, the time he’s been gone. 

What else he had to pay, to attain his resurrection.

You think about retrieving your phone from your coat. Calling you boyfriend. Answering his questions about Caleb that he probably has.

But you don’t want to. 

You’re a liar to the world, but you’ve always had a hard time lying to yourself. You’re not quite ready to face the outside world. You want a little more time to indulge in the focal point of your inner world, so warm and solid beneath you, his arms around you, before you toss him back to the outside world and never speak to him again. He’s still dead to you, like he was before he died. Even though he’s alive.

He’s alive.

“Caleb,” you say, helplessly.

He smiles in response. “Yeah.”

Now that you’ve been emptied, for now, of all of your rage, your grief, your resentment, the relief is so big. It’s filling you, like helium. You could float away, without Caleb’s evol, you’re so full of it.

Caleb’s alive.

You don’t want to stab yourself yet, to pop the helium-bouyant balloon of your heart by tearing yourself from him, insisting that he leave, returning to the life you’ve made without him.

Is it so wrong to fly with him, for just a little longer? 

Caleb’s right to a time out in the middle of a fight.

“I’m tired,” you grouse. “The bathroom’s too far.”

When he realizes you’re conceding, he makes a little helpless noise, in the back of his throat. You feel his big chest expand, contract, as he sighs, closing his eyes. Then he smiles, opens them again.

 “Aaaall right, message received.” His voice takes on a customer friendly tone. “Wait one moment, please. Caleb’s personal delivery service is activating.”

You laugh as he shakes his body, and yours, while making brr brr noises, like an engine revving and shaking the chassis of a car. “You’re so stupid.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you, the motor’s too loud,” he says cheerfully, standing effortlessly with you still in his arms, your legs tucked around his waist. He carries you through your spartan apartment, to the bathroom. He nudges open the door with a foot, surveys the small space.

“You have a bathtub,” he says, lifting an eyebrow.

“And you have eyes,” you snark.

“I do have eyes, thank you for noticing, little puffer fish.” He smiles down into your face.

You scowl at him. “Puffer fish?”

“You cried so hard that you puffed up like one.”

You glare at him. You know your face and eyes are swollen from crying, but he has no right to tease you for it. “And whose fault is that?” you accuse. 

He lifts his left arm from under your ass and runs his hand over your hair, tucks a lock behind your ear. “All mine, Pipsqueak,” he murmurs, and his voice is filled with such familiar, sorrowful affection that you immediately deflate. “How about instead of a shower, you take a bath? That would be more relaxing. I’ll give you a massage, after.”

He’s been gone for so long. He’s not dead. He’s alive. You can’t say no, right now. Not yet. You want everything from him, like when you were younger.

Before he left you in pieces on the ground.

“I want bubbles.”

He laughs, caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Then you’ll have bubbles.”

You lean into his palm before resting your head on his metal shoulder.

He looks down at you in surprise. “Why not choose the soft shoulder?”

“Hard or soft, doesn’t matter,” you mumble. “It’s you.”

Inexplicably, his face flushes. He blinks, and then shakes his head. “One bubble bath, comin’ up.”

He sets you on the closed toilet before turning to the bath, fiddling with the knobs. He paws through your bath products along the edge, and then underneath the sink. He then turns to you, hands on his hips. “You have a bathtub, but no bath bombs? You only have shampoo and shower gel, you don’t even have stuff specifically for bubble baths.”

“Already breaking another promise?” you ask, softly, before you can stop yourself.

His teasing smile fades. “No, baby. You’ll get your bubbles.” He turns, and you watch his broad back, the muscles shifting under his soft skin—he’s right here, healthy, if no longer whole in the same way as before, with his metal shoulder shining under the soft bathroom light. His cargo pants are slung low over his hips. You can see the dimples of his lower back, the meaty curve of his ass before his pants begin. You want to touch him. You want to bury your face against his ass, use him as a pillow.

Your mouth feels empty.

He bends down and grabs your shower gel. He pauses, stares at the label. As if seeing it for the first time.

You feel your cheeks become warm, but he doesn’t say anything.

He shakes his head, squeezes the bottle. The viscous liquid forms a long, slow drip into the rushing water. 

Caleb’s scent fills the small room.

The bubbles build.

He turns around. His eyes are a lovely, dark indigo. His face is still serious.

He looks like the Caleb you remember. Mostly.

He was big then, but he’s even bigger now.

His arm is different, of course. 

He has that same angry, hungry look you remember that he’d sometimes get before he left for the DAA.

But there’s something else now, another layer to the complicated expression on his face. He’s looking at you with intention, in a way that you never remember seeing.

He squats down before you, looks up into your face.

“You’re going to undress now,” he says, voice low.

You swallow. Your heart is racing. “Am I?”

He nods, slowly. “Yeah, you are.” 

You stare into his beautiful eyes.

Part of you, the currently drained angry, abandoned, grief-filled part, wants to tell him no. 

That part of you wants to tell him to fuck off. He has no right to order you around. To tell you what to do.

That part of you wants to tell him that you have a boyfriend, and that when he’d help you like this when you were younger, it was unhealthy. Codependent. Dysfunctional. 

But he’s here, right now. He’s alive. After so, so long. You are filled with helium, looking into his beautiful, serious eyes. If you flicked an unlit match against the metal of his arm, you’d explode.

“Do it for me,” you order him.

He smiles, and it’s a smile you’ve never seen before. You can see his sharp canines, glinting like his arm.

He reaches forward with one big hand, and it envelops your foot. He pulls it into his lap, and he slowly, slowly peels down your sock. He sets it on the floor, and then pulls off your other sock.

He then slides both of his hands, the metal one cool, his other warm, even through the fabric of your tights, up your calves. He parts your knees, runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. 

Your heart is racing, so, so fast.

You gasp, when he lifts his hands right before his thumbs would meet where your thighs do, and instead gently hooks his fingers under your waistband. “Lift,” he tells you.

You lean back, place your hands on either side of the toilet seat, and lift your ass.

He stares into your eyes as he pulls, peeling your tights, your underwear, off of you in one long slide. By necessity, you close your knees again to ease his way.

The tights pool at your feet.

He doesn’t look away from your eyes.

He lifts his left hand, slides it between your knees, parting your legs again.

He still doesn’t look down.

He stands, takes a step forward, to stand between your now open legs.

His hips are at your eye level. Your eyes widen as you see the big outline of his dick, clearly hard, beneath his cargo pants. It looks painful, trapped down his left pant leg.

Your mouth feels so empty.

He looks down at you. “Lift your shirt.”

Your mouth is dry. If you could hear anything over the gushing water of the bath’s faucet, you’d probably be able to hear it clicking as you swallow again.

But there’s only the water, your heartbeat, his command in your ears.

“Do it for me,” you counter.

His skin, beneath the soft brown fur trailing down his stomach, sweeping across his big pecs, is flushed.

He leans down, gathers the fabric of your shirt in his hands, and lifts.

You raise your arms, and he gently pulls the shirt off your torso, letting it join your tights at your feet.

There’s only your bra, now.

He doesn’t look away from your eyes. “Take off your bra,” he murmurs, and you barely hear him over the water.

You lean back on your hands. Widen your legs. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, between your legs.

“Do it for me,” you say, one last time.

His nostrils flare as he exhales. His eyes look so dark. 

He leans down again, but this time, he runs his hands from your hips, up along your sides, until he’s holding you firmly along your ribs. He lifts you to himself, pressing your hips against his, your breasts against his chest.

His cool, silver arm is a steel band across your back, as he fumbles with the clasp of your bra with his other hand. You share his breath as he looks into your eyes as his hand works.

Finally, you feel the relief that only comes when you take your bra off after a long day. He gathers its fabric in his fist and gently tugs. You lean back in his arms, and he lets the straps fall from your shoulders, along your arms. 

He pulls you back to him, pressing your breasts back against his chest, skin on skin. He lifts you, like a princess, turns with you in his arms, and then slowly lowers you into the steaming water of the bath. The bubbles envelop you, come up to your neck.

He turns off the faucet, and the ensuing silence leaves your ears ringing with your ever-present tinnitus. Then he stands next to the tub, looking down at you, as if from a great height.

“Soak,” he says, voice hoarse. “I’m going to the store for dinner stuff. When I get back, you better still be in this bath. I’ll help you wash your hair.”

In the warmth of the bath, surrounded by the smell of Caleb’s shower gel, pinned by his intent gaze, you can only nod.

“Oh, before I go,” he says. He flicks his hand in a lovely, graceful gesture, and his necklace lifts from your neck, caught in a shimmering, rainbow haze. Your hair is caught in the same weightlessness, floating around your face, allowing the chain to drift over your head without obstacle. Once the necklace is free, your hair gently falls back down. Caleb catches the necklace in his hand.

He bends down again, offers it to you. “Put it on me,” he says, an echo of a playful order from so many years ago. This time, he sounds authoritative. Like he’s used to giving serious orders.

Time compresses. You are laughing with him on a sunny day, heartbroken that he is leaving, hopeful that you’ll see him again soon.

You are looking up into his dark, stranger’s eyes from the bathtub, heartbroken, missing him, mourning him even as he’s standing right in front of you. You’ve already lost him, all of your worst fears come true.

“Don’t you have hands?” you ask, quietly. 

He snorts, softly. “Yeah, yours.”

He stares at you, waiting.

You suddenly realize you’re scared that if he walks out the door, you won’t see him again.

“If you want it, you have to come back to get it.”

“No,” he says.

You look away. Clutch the tag of the necklace in your wet hand. “Then, no,” you mirror him. As you always have.

“Look at me.” His voice is softer, now.

You refuse.

“Be a good girl, and look at me.”

You swallow again. Feel that familiar warmth in your chest, between your legs, when he calls you that.

When he used to call you that.

You obey him. Look back at his face, filled with that sad affection again. He’s so handsome, it hurts. You missed his face so, so much.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a reward. 

You want to cry, it feels so good to hear him praise you again.

“Put it on me.”

You reach up, the bubbles sliding over, down the naked skin of your arms. He leans down further, turns his face to run his nose along your cheek as you focus on closing the clasp shut at the back of his strong neck. When you’re done, you rest your palms on the sides of his neck. You feel his thumping, living heartbeat under his skin. He presses his lips softly against your cheek  before standing again.

You look up at him, as he looks down at you.

“I don’t need the necklace as an excuse to come back. I’ve come back, from very, very far away, because you are enough to pull me from the dead.” His soft, silky brown hair falls over his serious, furrowed brow. “I’m going to make you believe that I will keep every promise I make, from now on.” His full lips are set in a determined line. “Starting now. I promise I’ll be back in less than half an hour, to wash your hair. Okay?”

Despite the sincerity in his words, you don’t trust him to come back. You’ve been here before. He was sincere, before. Or so you thought. You don’t want him to go. Not yet.

“Caleb,” you say. 

“Yeah, Pipsqueak.” He smiles down at you, and its warmth reaches his eyes.

You stare at him. You tell yourself that you’re going to toss him back to the world soon, anyway. What does it matter, if he leaves you here again, right now, instead of you kicking him out at the end of the evening?

At least this time, if he breaks his promise and doesn’t come back, you’ll know he’s not dead.

Maybe it will be even easier this time, if he doesn’t come back. You’ll survive, if he never comes back, as long as you know he’s in the world.

“Hurry up,” you say. Instead of, Don’t go. Instead of, Don’t ever leave me again. Instead of, Kiss me before you go.

His eyes drift over your face, and he rubs his left hand thoughtfully over his chin. “I can tell that you don’t believe me.” Before you can scoff at him, argue, lie, he continues. “I’ll just have to prove it to you. I’ll prove it to you, as many times as I have to. Until you trust me again. Be back before you know it.” He turns, and he walks out the door.

You want to scream.

You shove your hand in your mouth instead and bite down, so hard that you can feel your skin breaking.

You don’t make a sound.

You hear your front door shut.

The bathwater is hot. Your bathroom is filled with steam. You draw your knees to your chest, wrap your arms around them.

You think about the dream, and remind yourself that his head is intact. You think about your memory, and remind yourself that he survived the fire, despite everything. That he’s alive, if not entirely whole, anymore.

You want to get out of the bath. You want to crawl into your bed and pass out. You want to wake up, ten years from now. Maybe that’s enough time, to no longer miss him this much.

But he told you to stay in the bath.

So you stay.

You refill the hot water, each time the water begins to cool. 

He’s still not back. You hug your knees.

Your neck feels empty, without his necklace around it.

Your mouth feels empty.

Just as you’re deciding to accept that he’s not coming back, you hear your front door opening again.

You turn so fast in the tub, the water sloshes over the side. “Caleb?”

“Still in the bath?” he calls from your hallway. You can hear him smiling.

You want to throw something at him. How dare he smile, while you sat here, terrified he wouldn’t come back?

You hear rustling in the kitchen. Your fridge door opening, closing.

And then, there he is, in the bathroom doorway, filling it like he always does. He’s so big.

“Ready to wash your hair?” he asks, eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile. He’s wearing a shirt again.

“Caleb,” you repeat.

His eyes soften. “Yeah, it’s me.”

He walks over to you, squats next to the tub.

You can’t help yourself. You throw your arms around him, soapy and wet. He makes a surprised little “Oomph” sound, but he hugs you back.

“You’re gettin’ me all wet, Pipsqueak.”

“You were gone for so long,” you whisper.

He pauses. Seems to hear what you’re really saying. “But I’m back now. And I’ll never leave you alone that long again, okay? Cross my heart, and hope to—”

“Shut up,” you choke out. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“Okay,” he says, indulgent. “Then I’ll just say, I promise.”

You’re not satisfied.

You’re so pissed.

“Is your arm waterproof?” you ask.

It takes him a second to respond. “Yeah. Why–?”

Before he can finish, you use all of your strength, all of your hunter’s training to brace your legs against the side of the bathtub for leverage, and pull.

He was already a bit off-balance, squatting awkwardly as he leaned over the tub to hug you. You successfully drag his big, stupid body into the tub with you. Water sloshes over the side.

“I want to drown you,” you huff, as you pull him down on top of you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Well don’t drown me before we get your hair washed, or before I make dinner. That would be a waste of today’s perfectly good Caleb’s personal delivery service, wouldn’t it?” His voice has a sing-song, teasing quality to it. Its familiarity, its playfulness, makes you ache.

You clutch him to you. “That’s the only reason I haven’t done it yet,” you lie.

He laughs softly. “Sure,” he murmurs, pretending to believe you.

Eventually, the water cools again. He sits up, his sopping wet shirt clinging to his defined chest, his soaked pants outlining his big dick, still hard.

It has always been like this. His body, reacting to yours. His complete disinterest in acting on it.

He never said anything about it, so neither did you.

You used to think it was just normal for guys to constantly be hard, until you started fucking them.

He kneels above you and then strips his t-shirt, letting it hit your bathroom floor with a wet splat. He watches your face as he unzips his pants, as he shimmies out of them, water splashing over the sides of the tub again. You’re going to have to use up all your towels to clean up the mess.

Finally, he’s just in his soaking, plain black boxer briefs.

Your mouth feels empty.

He leans over you again. His necklace dangles in the air between you, dripping water. You want him to lean further down. You want to pull the tag of his necklace into your mouth with your tongue and suck.

He makes another little helpless noise, deep in his throat. Breathes through his nose. “Let’s wash your hair, Pipsqueak.”

You let him clamber out of the bath. You melt, as he runs his fingers along your scalp, as he shampoos your hair just the way he always did. You close your eyes, and just savor the feeling of his hands on you.

Instead of moaning, like you want to, you ask, “Where have you been, Caleb?”

His fingers pause. And then resume making you feel so, so good. “Skyhaven.”

It’s like a punch to your chest. He’s been so close, this whole time. 

So close, and so far. 

You want to cry. “This whole time?”

There is only the sound of the water, rippling against the sides of the tub. A droplet from the faucet, splashing. His smell, all around you. From his own body. From his shower gel, the shower gel you’ve been using ever since he left for the DAA.

“Yeah,” he finally answers.

“What have you been doing?” you ask, through clenched teeth. You don’t want to cry again. You want to ask him why.

But you don’t want to know why, yet.

“I got a new job. I’ve been working.”

You have a million questions. You’re too exhausted to ask them.

“Do you still get to fly?” you ask, instead of What happened to you? Why didn’t you come home? Why didn’t you tell me you were alive? Why now? Why not six months ago? A year ago?

He huffs in disbelief. “You’re worried about whether I can still fly?”

“Your only dream was being able to fly. It would make me sad, if you couldn’t anymore.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, before he takes the handheld showerhead and gently rinses the product from your hair. All you hear is the water trailing through your hair, past your ears. He sets the showerhead back in its holder. “Flying wasn’t my only dream.”

You open your eyes. He’s looking down at you, but he’s leaning over you, so his face is upside down in your field of view. “It wasn’t?”

“No, baby.”

He doesn’t elaborate.

You’re too tired to ask.

He finishes caring for your hair, like he used to. When he’s done, he wraps it gently in the type of towel you always use for your hair. He helps you out of the bathtub, but his eyes never leave your face.

He wraps you in a towel. Lifts you in his arms, like a princess, and carries you to your bedroom. He sets you on your feet.

You meet his gaze, as you let the towel fall, plop softly onto your bedroom rug. He refuses to look at your body, but he makes that noise again. Like he’s in a little bit of pain.

You turn, dive under your duvet. He tucks the edge of it under your chin. “You still use my old sweats as pajamas?” 

“Yeah,” you yawn. Your stomach growls.

He laughs, heading into your closet. “I’ll start dinner before we finish your hair. Just rest while I take care of everything.” You can hear him opening drawers, searching for his sweats. After a few minutes, he emerges, wearing only the sweatpants, slung low on his hips. He’s clearly not wearing underwear anymore. You try not to stare at how big he is.

You lift your eyes back to his handsome face, trace his long, straight nose with your gaze. “Caleb,” you say.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “It’s me. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He approaches the bed. Stands over you.

Time compresses. You are a kid again, and he is watching over you, making you feel infinitely safe in a world that taught you that nothing and no one is safe.

You are a teenager, and he’s lifting you from your bed after a nightmare, he’s clutching you to his chest, tucking you into his own bed, singing you lullabies in his breaking, teenage boy voice.

You are an adult, dreaming that he’s still alive, that he’s finally come home to you. But you know that when you wake up, the nightmare will begin, all over again.

“I promise,” he says, as if he can read your mind, just from looking at your face. “Dinner’ll be ready in a jiffy,” he says, turning, walking out of your bedroom.

You lie there, listening to him in the kitchen. Cabinets opening. Burners flaring to life. The fridge opening, closing. You fall asleep to the safest sound you’ve ever known.

It doesn’t take long for Caleb to orient himself in your kitchen. You have the absolute basics. A couple of pots, pans. Mismatched plates that look thrifted. Glasses that are clearly just jam jars repurposed for drinking.

He pauses, stares at a lovely set of crystal wine glasses that is jarringly incongruent with the rest of your things. 

He wonders who gave them to you.

Then his gaze catches on the world’s best hunter mug he had gifted you, after you had graduated. You had taken it with your fake smile. He was convinced at the time that you had gone home and immediately thrown it away.

He holds it in his hand, notes how its rim is chipped. It has faint rings of tea stains that are really hard to get out by just hand scrubbing. 

He looks inside your other mugs. They’re all pristine.

You wash his mug by hand, and you use it a lot.

He smiles.

No matter how angry or betrayed you feel, you still use his shower gel. You were wearing his necklace. His clothes are still in your closet, even though you had never invited him to your place, after you had landed your position with the Hunter’s Association. You clearly use his mug every morning, to—he grimaces at your half-empty jar of instant coffee—to drink your tea and your shitty morning coffee.

He lets his mind drift as he measures out rice, washes it, gets it cooking in your little rice-maker. As he pulls out your one, crappy plastic cutting board and sets it on the counter. As he takes your pristinely sharpened kitchen knives, and begins chopping vegetables. 

He’s secured his place as Colonel in the Far Space Fleet, as he was ordered to do. Things should be stable for him, for a while. Which is why he finally gave in to the desperate need to see you again. To weave himself back into your life, after being ripped from you a year ago. Long before a year ago, really.

Caleb Xia is a liar. 

He’s not going to let you keep him out this time. He was lying when he said he’d accept anything you said you needed, including acting like he’s dead to you, except your death.

He will accept nothing less but your hand in his, and your moans against his mouth. Your genuine smile, directed at him. 

He knows better than anyone how quickly circumstances change. How even on the sunniest, calmest of days, your plane can be knocked out of the sky. Each day is all you, he, anyone has, really. He’s not going to waste any more time. It’s a lesson from the book he used to read you. He had to leave his rose, for awhile. But now he’s back, and he’s going to give her everything she needs, whether she wants it or not. He should have learned this sooner. He wants to look at the world with the eyes of a child, instead of the eyes of a responsible, societally proper adult.

He has always been childishly selfish. He’s just not going to fight it anymore.

He looks around at your empty apartment, remembers the spoiled girl he used to know. But he can’t find her in this stark, deprived existence. He’s going to fix this too.

He’s a selfish child, and he’s a man with a plan.

It’s simple, really.

He’s going to prove to you, day in, and day out, that he’ll keep his promises to you. That he’ll show up, and be there for you, when you need him, and when you think you don’t.

He’s going to start with feeding you, and then a trip to the grocery story and the mall tomorrow. You need a full fridge and shit-ton of bath bombs, now that he’s back in your life.

The doorbell chimes.

He looks up, frowning.

He sets the knife on the counter. With his evol, he doesn’t need it for human threats.

He pads, barefoot, to your hallway entrance, checks the video feed next to your front door.

Ah. 

The minor obstacle in his plan.

He pauses, activates the cloaking function on his arm. He looks like a normal guy again, now. Nothing mechanical about him at all, not him, nope. He opens the door.

Your boyfriend is fidgeting on the other side, focused on his nice monk-strap shoes. Nice shoes, for a nice guy who works in a nice office.

Caleb knows that you need more than nice to be happy. That you need more than nice to be safe. Protected. Satisfied. Filled.

Despite his carefully cultivated mask, Caleb is not a nice guy.

But based on everything Caleb has been able to dig up on this guy, he’s a nice guy.

He’s just not the guy for you.

The guy lifts his gaze, eyes growing wider as he takes in Caleb’s sweatpants, his naked chest. “Oh, I must have the wrong—” he starts, but then he finally meets Caleb’s eyes, and his voice dies in his throat.

Caleb smiles at him. Wide and genuine. With that little slip, this asshole has revealed that he has never even been to your place before. Incredible. Caleb hasn’t even been back a day and he already has one over on this dude. “Hey, man.”

The guy swallows. Looks like he’s been hit by a truck.

Caleb just keeeeps smiling at him, letting him squirm. He’s certainly not going to be the one to break the silence. He’s got all the time in the world, on this side of your apartment doorway. He leans against said doorway, folding his arms. He doesn’t mean to flex his big biceps in the process, really.

Your boyfriend’s eyes flicker to the necklace that Caleb has the feeling you’ve never taken off since the day he died.

It occurs to him that this guy has fucked you while you were wearing his necklace. His augmented hand forms a tight, painful fist, without his permission. Sometimes he loses control of it, when he’s upset. He forces himself to focus on the fact that now the necklace is around his neck, and your boyfriend is staring at it. His fist relaxes. The pain in his arm recedes to its normal, low hum. Like a constant, distant bruise. The pain in his heart, on the other hand, throbs.

Your boyfriend frowns, shakes his head a little. “I’ve been texting. And calling. But she hasn’t picked up. Can I come in?”

“Oh, that’s my fault. I’ve been keeping her really, really busy,” Caleb says, cheerfully. “I wore her out.” He doesn’t mean to make it sound like an innuendo, honest. “She’s in bed, asleep. I’ll tell her you dropped by though.”

Your boyfriend’s frown deepens. “We had plans tonight.”

“Did you?” Caleb asks, eyes wide, innocent. “That sucks. But it’s not every day that you reunite with the closest person in your life after being separated for a year, you know? Can you maybe cut her some slack, take a raincheck?”

Your boyfriend sighs, runs his hand over his mouth. “I just… I just want to make sure she’s okay. She’s been really messed up, since you…” he pauses, looks at Caleb strangely. “Since you allegedly died.”

Oooh, he’s pulling out his fancy legal jargon. Caleb nods. “Well, as you can see, I got better.” He chuckles. He’s just a harmless idiot, after all. A meathead soldier boy. “And she’s fine. Just tired. She’ll call you when she’s ready. I’ll tell her that you dropped by,” he lies.

Your boyfriend stares at him for a moment longer. Caleb can tell how desperately the poor asshole wants to say something about how fucking weird this whole situation is. But he’s too polite. Too nice. He still cares about social conventions, and appearances. Obviously, he cares more about these things than he cares about you.

Because if his and Caleb’s situations were reversed, Caleb would have already torn the door off its hinges and removed this guy, permanently, from his path to get to you.

But right now, Caleb is inside your home, and this idiot is outside of it. And if he just disappears this perfectly nice guy now, you’ll ask questions. You’re a Hunter now. Which means you have to uphold the law and worry about optics. You’d probably be mad at him when he inevitably tells you the truth, because he can’t resist your cute, pouting face. Or your scary, angry face.

He can’t resist you at all, really.

He just needs to show you that this guy isn’t worth keeping.

All Caleb cares about is regaining your trust, and showing you the one fundamental truth of his universe.

You are his. And he is yours.

The world can end tomorrow, for all he cares. As long as you’re in his arms, nothing else matters.

The guy you’ve been using as a distraction for the past six months is nothing, in the trajectory of your life with Caleb, his life with you. A blip on the radar, after a little turbulence.

Now, he looks doubtful about Caleb’s reassurance that he’ll tell you that your boyfriend dropped by, so Caleb smiles even wider. “I promise I’ll let her know. Cross my heart, and hope to die.”

The guy winces at the reminder that you’ve been grieving Caleb for the last year, and seems to accept that he’s the one who’s being callous in this situation, as opposed to you, for not following through on the plans you had with him tonight. Then he nods in resignation, and he leaves.

Caleb smiles with teeth, shutting the door to your place.

He pauses at your coat, fishes your phone out. 

He snorts. Apparently he didn’t like the text Caleb sent saying that you’d be busy with him for the rest of the night. He sent a bunch of texts, sounding increasingly irritated about you flaking out on plans with him, and called five times. But the texts don’t directly reply to Caleb’s terse message blowing him off. The guy just comes across as unreasonably aggressive.

Caleb smiles. Leaves the messages and the calls untouched in your phone. He slips the phone back in your coat pocket, still on silent.

He whistles as he returns to the kitchen. He sautés the vegetables. Sets everything out in covered bowls, on a wooden tray he finds in the back of one of your cabinets.

Time to wake up his princess and feed her.

He grabs the massage oil he picked up at the corner store along with the food and heads back to your bedroom.

You’re out like a light. So, so pretty. He sets the tray on the floor next to your bed. He gently removes the towel from your hair, which is still damp but drying really prettily even without much effort from him.

He pulls down the duvet, and you make a soft noise of protest at the cool air hitting your naked skin. He stares down at you for a few moments, just drinking you in. 

You’re so, so beautiful. He feels his body reacting, like it always does, to your proximity, your lovely skin on display for him.

He gently nudges you onto your stomach, sits down down next to you on the bed. He pours some of the oil into his hand. It smells really good—it has arnica oil in it, for your no doubt sore muscles. He knows how hard your job can be on your body.

He places his left hand on your back, and it looks so big, against your smaller frame. He slowly rubs in the oil, smoothing his hand over your muscles along either side of your spine. Between your shoulder blades. Up the line of your graceful neck.

You whimper softly, shift a little.

He loves you like this. 

He loves you when you’re telling him that you want to drown him. When you’re telling him you want to bulldoze his grave.

And he loves you when you’re liquid under his hands, letting him move you however he wants.

He leans down, presses his nose into your damp hair. He presses his cheek against the back of your neck, not carrying that he’s getting oil on his face.

He keeps rubbing you with his warm, living hand, savoring your skin he can feel under his fingertips.

You wake slowly from a dream. A dream, where Caleb was alive.

You had tested it and everything. For the first time, Caleb was intact under your hands. It wasn’t his necklace on the sidewalk, or his empty skull under your fingers.

He was alive, and breathing, under you on the couch. Over you in the bath.

It was such a lovely dream. You’re so grateful for this reprieve, after an entire year of night terrors.

Your body feels so good. He’s rubbing your back, like he used to do after track practice. His big hand slide leisurely along your sore muscles.

You must still be dreaming your lovely dream.

You roll over, turning to look up at him. He makes a surprised little noise as you open your eyes, smile up at him.

“Caleb,” you sigh.

“Yup. It’s me,” he says, watching you carefully, but speaking with an upbeat note in his voice that rings false to you. “Delivering your massage, as promised.

You’re naked in the bed, the duvet only coming up to your waist. “What a lovely dream,” you say, reaching for him.

He lets you, his big body pliant under your hands as you rest your hands on his shoulders, pull him down to you.

“It’s so nice to dream about something else, for once,” you tell dream Caleb. “I always kiss you, but in the end you’re dead.”

Dream Caleb’s lovely lilac eyes widen, and he makes that cute little whimper in the back of his throat.

“Does it have to be a dream, Pipsqueak?” he asks, his lips hovering above yours, as you’ve pulled his face down to yours.

“You never kissed me in real life. It will always only be in my dreams. At least this time, you’re not fucking dead. Hurry up. Kiss me.” You’re getting impatient. Who knows when you’ll wake up, and he’ll vanish under the harsh morning sun? “My mouth feels so empty.”

He hesitates. “Do you still smoke, baby? When you’re anxious, or drinking?”

You nod. “I know you hate it. That it’s not good for me. But you never offered me anything else that I actually wanted to replace it with. And you’re fucking dead now, so you don’t get a say, anymore.” You sound mulish. Petulant. You don’t care. You’re mad at him, even in this lovely dream. He left you, over and over and over again.

“I’m not dead. I’ll prove it to you.” He leans down, runs his warm, wet tongue along your lips. “And this isn’t a dream.” 

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” you say, laughing softly, because otherwise you’d cry.

He smiles against your lips. “You don’t have to trust me yet. I’ll prove it to you, as many times as I have to. Open your mouth.”

You part your lips obediently. He lifts his necklace with his silver hand, places the tag, the apple charm on your tongue. “Suck.”

You close your mouth, wrap your tongue around the pendants. You suck, as he tells you to.

“You fucked your boyfriend wearing my necklace,” he says, nosing along your cheek. He caresses your cheek with his warm left hand, then lets it glide along your jaw, down your chin, over your throat. Over your clavicle.

He rests his big palm between your breasts.

You nod. 

“Why?” he asks.

It’s just a dream. It doesn’t matter what you say, whether it’s a lie, or the truth, because Caleb isn’t actually here to receive your answer. He hasn’t been, for a long, long time.

He gently tugs the necklace from between your lips. He puts the wet pendants in his own mouth and sucks, as if savoring your saliva.

You tell the truth. “It’s the only way I could stand for him to touch me.”

He opens his mouth, lets the necklace fall from his lips, swing into the space between his body and yours. The pendants hit the back of his hand, where it’s resting on your sternum “Why are you with him, if you can’t stand his touch?” He sounds so, so sad.

“What does it matter? You’re dead. I’ll never have who I want touching me, now. He’s nice. He cares about me. There are very few people left who do, anymore.”

You don’t want to talk about this, in the precious few moments of this lovely dream. “My mouth feels empty,” you complain. You want him to hurry up, do something. You want him to help you.

“Because you were such a good girl and answered my questions honestly, I’ll give you a choice.” He leans down again, kisses you softly. Your first kiss from him on the lips, ever. What a lovely dream. You’re full of helium. You’re surprised you’re not lifting the both of you off your bed. “You can have my thumb.”

He kisses you again. The strands of his dark hair sweep across your forehead.

“My tongue.”

His lips are so soft, as they press against yours yet again.

“Or my cock.”

You want all three. Everything. You want everything. His thumb, fingers, hand, wrist, fist, his tongue, his ear, his cock, his balls. For years, you’ve wanted everything of his. “Don’t make me choose. I don’t want to have to choose. I want you to choose for me.”

He pulls back from your lips, lilac eyes drifting from your eyes to your mouth, and back again. “All right, Pipsqueak,” he says indulgently. “But first, you have to admit this isn’t a dream.”

You scowl at him.

“It is a dream,” you insist. “Because you’re fucking dead.”

He frowns in turn, brows furrowing. “I’m not dead. I know you don’t trust me not to break promises anymore. I’ll spend as long as it takes proving to you that you can trust me not to leave you again, but it’s time for you to admit that I’m not dead.” He sounds stern. Your big brother, lecturing you to stop doing things that aren’t good for you.

“This is just a dream,” you insist. He doesn’t get to tell you what’s real and what’s not, after so long. He never accepted his big brother role, anyway.

“Fine.” He looks angry, hungry. “Then you only get my tongue, until you admit this is real.”

He leans down, licks your lower lip. You glare at him. He reaches up with his left hand, slides his thumb between your lips. You taste the massage oil, bitter. He opens your jaw, gently. “I know you can’t bring yourself to continue denying me,” he says, sweetly. “Let me in,” he coaxes.

You open your mouth wider, and he licks into it. His fingers fall away from your mouth, drift down your body, to one of your breasts. 

He makes that same helpless noise, as he thumbs along your sensitive skin, squeezes. As he rolls fully on top of you, chest to naked chest. He presses you into the mattress as he kisses you deeply, as his tongue fills your mouth. You suck on his tongue, curl your arms around his broad back, put your hands back in his silky hair. You shift your hips underneath his. 

He’s so big and hard—the only thing between your body and his, the gray sweatpants.

He bucks his hips, once, and you moan. He pulls back, tongue leaving your mouth. You make a little noise of protest. “Caleb.”

“Pipsqueak.”

“Why’d you stop?” you demand.

He looks sheepish. “I’m gonna come really fast in my pants if we keep going.”

“Then come, dummy,” you lean up to kiss him again. You want his tongue in your mouth again.

He looks frustrated. “This is our first kiss, and our first time making out. It’s not every day that I get to kiss you for the first time. I don’t want to just come in my pants within two minutes.”

You laugh. “What, Captain Caleb doesn’t have any stamina?” You run your hands down his back.

He hangs his head. “Not when it comes to you, no,” he mumbles.

“I won’t hold it over your head forever and ever,” you tease him, reassure him. “It’s just a dream—”

He leans down, shoves his tongue in your mouth before you can finish. He pumps his hips, and his big dick presses between your legs in a way that makes you feel as empty as your mouth was feeling earlier. You whine. “Caleb,” you plead, around his tongue.

He reaches down, slips his left hand between your legs. “I’m not gonna lie, Pipsqueak, I’ve dreamt about this before, yeah. But this is real. You’re so wet. Fuck.”

He pulls his hand back, stares at it, the wetness glistening along his fingers. He snaps them.

Rainbow shimmer bursts, soaks your body and his. 

You both begin to float. He leans down, kisses you again. Slips his hand back between your legs. Two big fingers slip inside you, and his thumb presses into your most sensitive spot.

“Caleb,” you whisper, moving your hips as he moves his hand. He pulls his hand from your body again, and you whine, but it’s just to flick his wrist. He fills you again.

Time slows.

He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, and his forearm flexes, as his fingers, his hands make you feel so good. Your pleasure builds, so slowly. His hand moves languidly inside you, his fingers in your wet, slippery places, but the pleasure doesn’t lessen. It keeps building, and building. He grasps your neck in his silver hand, squeezing just a little. Like he’s afraid of squeezing too tight, and is overcompensating by making his touch as light as a feather.

You float together, caught in a cloud of your pillows, your duvet, his shimmering evol. He slides the hand holding your neck down your back, until he has a handful of your ass, and he presses your body securely against himself, rubs himself against your thigh through the soft sweatpants.

The slow trajectory of his hand moving feels like it takes hours, as he continues to work his hand between your legs.

Hours. Days. A month.

He has slowed time using his evol, in order to make you feel as good as possible from just his hand on you, just his tongue in your mouth. You laugh a little, because you suspect that he's probably also trying to to make up for the fact that he's on a hair trigger right now just from touching you. But he seems to take your laughter as a challenge.

“Caleb,” you gasp, as his thumb presses harder, circles faster against you, as he adds a third finger inside you. You forget everything else except how good you feel, and with a graceful flick of his hand, his thumb, you come with a muffled cry, deep in your throat. The pleasure feels like it lasts a decade.

He does something with his fingers inside you, a subtle gesture that feels really, really good, an aftershock of climax, and then time speeds up again.

He jerks his hips into your thigh a few more times, his hard cock rubbing through his pants against you, and then he groans. 

He pulls his fingers from inside you, lifts them to his own lips. He shoves them in his wide mouth and sucks them clean, while holding you tight.

"No fair," you complain. You grasp his shoulders, push away from him a little. He looks at you like a kicked puppy, but then furrows his brow as you gently pull him up, up, until you’re floating, face level with his big hips. You pull down the band of his sweatpants, down past his still-hard dick, sticky with his come. You lean forward, and lick him with the flat of your tongue. He smells so, so good. Like Caleb, clean sweat and clean laundry, but also bitter, salty, a secret part of him you’ve never smelled, tasted before. You lap at him, and he groans again. You take him in your hand as best as you can despite how big he is and lick him clean, like a lolly pop, as he bows over you, gently palming the back of your head with both of his hands, as you both drift in the air above your bed, caught in the shimmering net of his evol.

You pull away after the silken skin of his firm cock is clean again. He pulls you up to him again, body flush against yours, and kisses you, tongue plunging into your mouth. You taste yourself, and you taste him. He rolls your bodies in the air, until he’s under you, and then he snaps his fingers again.

You both fall back to the bed in a soft thwump of duvet and pillows. His body cushions your fall, and the mattress cushions his.

You rest your chin on his chest. Smile at him. “What a lovely dream,” you say.

He frowns at you, like he’s in pain, eyes a dark indigo. He wraps his arms around you, palms the back of your head as you rest your cheek on his chest. “It’s not a dream, Pipsqueak,” he says, but he sounds resigned.

“Promise?” you sigh, but you’re already yawning. Drifting back to sleep.

You don’t hear him say, “I promise. Cross my heart, and hope to die.”

[thelazyhermits]

Even though I prefer to wait until TWST events reach the ENG server before writing anything for them, I just couldn't help myself when it comes to my Yuu's first meeting with Skully cause I just love him, and I really wanted to give writing him a try.

There are spoilers for the new JPN Halloween event underneath the cut, so if you don't want to be spoiled, I'd recommend not reading this, although I'm not strictly following what happened with Skully & Yuu's first meeting in the event since I wanted to put my own spin on it.

Also, I purposely avoided bringing attention to the event outfits here since my Yuu's event outfit hasn't been decided yet, so I'll just say Yuu focuses on her and Skully's clothes after this scene lol

Lastly, for those not familiar with my writing, my Yuu is female, so if that's not your preference, you probably won't wanna read this.

For those who do decide to read this, I hope you'll enjoy it! 😊💕

When you regain consciousness, it’s to the sound of an unfamiliar voice calling out to you.

“Hello..? Hello, my dear? Lovely lady sleeping in my arms?”

Upon hearing that voice, your groggy mind immediately focuses on the incredibly warm, gentle tone the unknown speaker uses when addressing you, which you’re unaccustomed to hearing thanks to the kind of upbringing you had and the kind of people you currently go to school with.

Seconds after that voice pierces through the haze that’s currently clouding your mind, you finally register the fact that someone is holding you in their arms, keeping you safely and comfortably secure against their chest.

“Can you hear my voice?” 

Once again, the unfamiliar voice addresses you, and at the same time, you feel a long, slender gloved finger brush against your cheek with a tenderness that surprises you.

Just who is this person?

And why do they sound genuinely concerned on your behalf? Why is everything about them so gentle?

“Hey, my dear, please, open your eyes for me…”

Upon hearing that request, you finally pry your heavy eyelids apart, so you can finally get some answers to the questions currently swirling around your groggy mind.

After blinking several times to clear your blurry vision, you take in the sight of a handsome, white-haired boy, who appears to be around your age, judging from his young face.

Just after your eyes open, the mysterious stranger beams, “Thank goodness, you’re awake!”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at that charming smile, which looks genuine from your perspective. That and the obvious relief in his voice, which doesn’t in any way sound forced, make you think that he really has been worried about you.

After taking a moment to scrutinize the sincerity of that smile, your eyes drift upwards and focus on the boy’s sunglasses, whose dark, circular lenses are completely hiding his eyes from view.

You have to fight the urge to click your tongue upon seeing those sunglasses since his eyes being hidden will make it difficult for you to properly read his expressions, which is why you never liked dealing with the people in Japan’s underworld who wore this type of eyewear specifically because they wanted to make themselves hard to read.

Ironically enough, just after the topic of his eyes occupies your thoughts, the still smiling stranger brings his face dangerously close to yours, making you think he really has no concept of personal space, considering he’s doing something like this and had no qualms about holding you while you were unconscious.

“Oh my, what dazzling eyes you have, my dear. They are just as lovely as you are. I am overjoyed to finally be able to see them at long last.”

Strangely enough, rather than have the immediate impulse to hit him, like what would normally happen under circumstances like these, you find yourself feeling only amused, perhaps because this boy reminds you a lot of Rook, whose eccentricities you’ve grown quite accustomed to these last several months.

Of course, it also helps that your instincts are telling you that this person isn’t a threat to you, and you’re always inclined to believe them since they’ve never lied to you before.

That’s why, rather than push this stranger away, you decide to take advantage of this perfect opportunity that he just unintentionally provided you.

Faster than he can react, you grab his sunglasses and move them upwards, allowing you a clear view of his wide, red eyes, whose pupils have a cool, concentric pattern.

A smirk rises to your lips. “If you’re gonna check out my eyes, it’s only fair you let me do the same.”

After moving his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head, you find yourself pausing after your eyes focus on the diamond-shaped patches of black hair that are now located directly beneath the sunglasses.

It kinda looks like a face…a very familiar face at that. You note. Although, I can’t remember why it looks so familiar to me…

Since there are more important matters that you need to attend to right now, you quickly shelve those thoughts, with the intention of going back to them later.

Quickly, you refocus your gaze on the face of the stranger, whose arms you woke up in, and firmly take hold of his chin, so you can keep him from moving his face away from yours since this close proximity will make it all the more easier for you to read his expressions.

Your earlier smirk returns when the mysterious boy becomes noticeably flustered, making you believe he’s not used to getting a taste of his own medicine. “Now, let’s have a little Q & A, Mr. Up Close And Personal, so I can decide what to do with you.” 

Giving the befuddled boy no chance to refuse, you ask, “Alright, the first and most important question is: Why did you decide to pull an unconscious girl into your lap? Sure, I can get wanting to wake me after finding me in such a state, but was that all really necessary?”

Rather than appear apprehensive upon being on the receiving end of your piercing, judgmental stare, the mysterious stranger, who appears genuinely surprised by your question, frowns, “Obviously, I could not allow a lovely lady such as yourself to remain on the cold, hard ground! I wouldn’t be able to call myself a gentleman otherwise!”

Because you can tell that he’s not lying thanks to the obvious sincerity in his eyes and voice, some of the tension in your frame eases as your gaze somewhat softens. “Heh, good answer. While not every girl would accept it, considering the circumstances, I will since I can tell you had good intentions, although I would still advise not trying something like this with any other girls since most girls would understandably hit first and ask questions later.”

Judging from his puzzled expression, this boy truly has no idea why a girl would react in such a manner, giving you the impression that he can be rather oblivious when it comes to the effects his actions have on others. 

Rather than try to explain things to him, you move onto your next two questions. “Second and third questions: Who are you, and how did you end up here with me?”

Much to your amusement, rather than appear bothered by your interrogation, the white-haired boy, who’s once again smiling and has seemingly forgotten his earlier embarrassment, cheerfully answers, “My name is Skully J. Graves. It’s nice to meet you!”

“As to how I ended up here with you, I stumbled upon your unconscious form by chance after I woke up in this unfamiliar place.” He continues, “I’m afraid I can’t provide any further information since I am just as confused as you must feel about these strange circumstances we’re both now facing.”

The corners of your lips dip downward. He’s not lying about finding me by chance, but I get the feeling he’s not being completely forthright with me about how he ended up here.

It’s possible he just doesn’t remember how he got here since my mind was rather hazy when I first woke up, although my memories of what happened with the crazy book that Grim opened at the used book fair are starting to come back to me. You think to yourself. He may think I won’t believe him if he claims to not remember how he got here, or he simply wants to avoid saying anything that may make him look suspicious.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot!” Skully exclaims, successfully drawing you away from your thoughts. “How careless of me!”

His concerned eyes peer into yours. “How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere, my dear?”

Upon seeing that he’s genuinely concerned about you, your expression softens. While I get the feeling that there’s more than meets the eye with this guy, I can tell he’s not a bad person at heart. A bad person wouldn’t be so kind and gentle toward me, especially not while I’m interrogating them.

While this doesn’t necessarily mean Skully can be trusted, you can at least give him the benefit of the doubt and be open to the idea of eventually trusting him after getting to know him better.

I would still like to get some more info outta him, especially in regards to how he ended up in this place like me, but it’d probably be better if I space out my questions rather than bombard him with them all at once. You muse. While he’s been pretty accommodating thus far, that might change if I start asking questions that make him uncomfortable, and I’d rather avoid causing any kind of conflict right now when I’ve got other more important things to worry about.

Rather than continue interrogating him, it’d be better to just wait and ask more questions later on once Skully has become more comfortable with you, or even better, if you bide your time, you may glean new information from him that he willingly provides without you even needing to ask since he seems like a talkative kind of guy.

That’s why you finally release your hold on his chin, surprising him, since it’s really for the best that you quit giving him the third-degree, especially when the boy hasn’t even technically done anything wrong yet. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for asking, er…”

Realizing you don’t know if Skully is someone you need to be more formal with like your upperclassmen or if he’s the same age as you, you ask, “How old are you? I can’t tell if you’re older than me or not, so I’m not sure how I should address you. I’m sixteen, by the way.”

Appearing noticeably pleased, Skully eagerly replies, “I am also sixteen! How wonderful to make a new friend who is the same age as me!”

“And you may address me however you please!” He adds, “I will be overjoyed regardless because such a lovely lady is calling me by name!”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards at his cute response. “You’re quite the charmer, huh? I like that. It’s rather refreshing, considering how most guys my age act.”

“Alright, considering you have no preference, I’ll just call you Skully and not worry about any formalities, like what I do with my other friends our age.” You add.

Your smile grows. “Since I’ve gotten enough info to satisfy myself for the time being, I’ll put an end to my little interrogation and introduce myself. My name is Yuu. It’s nice to meet you, Skully.”

Skully beams, “What a lovely name! I’m so glad to meet you, Yuu-san!”

Catching you by surprise, Skully gently takes hold of your hand and tenderly kisses your knuckles. “I thank you for this wonderful encounter.”

Once you overcome your surprise, your expression becomes amused. He did call himself a gentleman earlier, so I guess I should’ve seen this coming, especially with his formal, old-fashioned way of speaking. He’s just like the gentlemen characters you see on TV.

Luckily for him, you’ve always been fond of those types of characters, so you think the two of you will get along just fine.

Plus, it’s not everyday you meet someone this sweet and gentlemanly thanks to the kind of people you normally hang out with, so you want to make the most of this opportunity to get along with this somewhat odd yet still quite endearing boy.

A grin rises to your lips. Most importantly, when a boy acts this cute, it makes me wanna spend more time with him and look for opportunities to tease him to see if he’ll give me some equally adorable reactions.

That's why you decide to have a little fun by shifting your hand that’s currently still being held, so you can gently grab Skully’s, surprising him.

Giving him no chance to react, you bring his hand close to your mouth and tenderly kiss his knuckles, mirroring his previous actions, all the while channeling the princely charm Cater always has you show off for your fans on Magicam. “Likewise, handsome.”

Much to your delight, Skully instantly becomes incredibly flustered because of your actions - to the point his blush covers the majority of his face, making you think this is the first time someone has ever done something like this to him.

Even better, after you release your hold on his hand, Skully, who has apparently been rendered speechless, considering how quiet he now is, uses both of his hands to cup his incredibly flushed cheeks, making him look even more adorable.

Your grin grows at the incredibly endearing sight. Looks like he's the type who gets super flustered when flirted with, like Deuce and Sebek. How adorable. I’m definitely gonna have some fun with this boy. Hehe~

Regrettably, you don’t get to enjoy this moment for very long, because, seconds after you recall how Deuce and Sebek usually react to your playful flirting, you finally realize that something is missing here.

Or rather, some people.

Wide-eyed, you immediately turn to look around and realize that the only people in the surrounding area, which consists of a barren forest that stretches out as far as the eye can see, are you and Skully. “Wait a minute! Where are my friends?!”

I can’t believe I let myself get so distracted that I totally forgot about the others! You internally scream. I’m a horrible mother! Where are my sons?!

As you panickily try to climb out of Skully’s lap so you can start a search for Grim and the others, the white-haired boy catches you off guard when he suddenly rises to his feet and takes you along for the ride.

Once on his feet, Skully gently sets you down, so you can stand on your own. “There you are, Yuu-san. Now, what was that about ‘friends’? Did you not come here alone like myself?”

Rather than answer his question, all you can do is stare at this boy who’s now towering over you like a lanky giant. Holy shit. He’s tall. I had figured he would be a tall boy just from how he was hunched over me earlier, but I was not expecting him to be this big. He may be even taller than Jack and Tsunotaro!

Skully curiously tilts his head when you fail to answer his question. “Yuu-san? Are you alright?”

Realizing this is not the time for gaping like an idiot, you give yourself a quick mental shake before replying, “Yeah, sorry. I was just surprised by how tall you are. I have some friends our age who are tall, but I’m pretty sure you’re even bigger than them, which seriously amazes me.”

“Anyway, to answer your question, yes, I should have some friends with me here since they were all with me right before I ended up in this weird place.” You continue, “While it’s possible I’m the only one who ended up in this crazy predicament, I find it unlikely, considering how close some of them were to me when I got enveloped by the weird magic that brought me here.”

Much to your amusement, mere seconds after those words leave your mouth, you hear some incoherent screaming coming from the distance, and you immediately recognize that voice as belonging to Sebek since you'd know that booming voice anywhere.

Thankfully, the screaming you hear isn’t the kind that indicates Sebek is scared or in trouble, so more than likely, he’s just freaking out about his current circumstances and/or your absence. 

Your shoulders slump with relief when you hear your son’s voice. “Speaking of my giant friends, that voice belongs to one of them. Thank goodness. At least, now, I know where I need to go.”

“Would you like to go with me, Skully?” You ask, “I’d hate to leave you on your own, and we’ll have a higher chance of getting out of this mess we’re in if we work together.”

Skully beams, “I would be more than happy to accompany you! Thank you for your kind invitation!”

With that settled, you turn to face the direction that Sebek’s screaming came from, but before you can start walking, Skully surprises you when he quickly moves to stand in front of you.

Before you can question his actions, Skully gracefully bows before offering you a hand, smiling all the while. “Please allow me to be your escort.”

Since you see no harm in it and it would be nice to have a hand to hold onto while you’re walking through this somewhat creepy forest, you reach out and take his proffered hand. “Alright, thank you. Do you know your way around this forest, Skully?”

He shakes his head. “No, unfortunately, I am unfamiliar with this forest like you.”

Grinning, Skully asks, “But don’t you think it’s a wonderful experience to wander hand-in-hand in a mysterious forest?”

His question makes you giggle. What a romantic. Skully just keeps getting more and more entertaining the longer I talk to him.

After you rein in your amusement, you warmly smile, “Holding hands definitely would make this situation better, so I’m fine with walking like this.”

Plus, someone, who’s as touch-starved as you, would never turn down the opportunity to hold hands with someone, just as long as you know that person isn’t dangerous, of course.

You squeeze Skully’s hand. And I can’t turn down a request from someone who seems to be as touch-starved as me, considering his past actions remind me a lot of how I typically act around my friends, not when I know hand-holding will make both of us equally happy.

For a moment, Skully just stares at you in surprise, or at least, you’re assuming he’s surprised since you can no longer see his full face thanks to his sunglasses, which he returned to their rightful place after he helped you to your feet earlier.

His reaction further convinces you that your hunch about him being touch-starved is right since he really seems very unaccustomed to someone willingly accepting his touch.

Just like how you were before you came to NRC….

Once he overcomes his surprise, Skully’s earlier cheerfulness returns with a vengeance as he happily replies, “Let us be off then! I look forward to meeting all of your companions, whom I’m sure are just as lovely as you!”

Unfortunately, I doubt they’ll be excited to meet you when we show up, and they see you holding my hand. You wryly think to yourself. 

And, of course, you were exactly right.

[poisonedprose]

₊˚✧ happy trail — in which leon's happy trail drives you wild

leon kennedy x afab!reader

warnings: 0.9k words, smut, inspired by @ouchvns !! (this post), established relationship, pet names (baby, princess), curse words, oral (m), unprotected sex, p in v, soft dom!leon, slight degrading, choking (f), slight biting kink, (m having, f recieving), i dont caare how innactuate this is idc idc idc its rael to me🤤

masterlists

You stir awake at the sound of your boyfriend getting ready for work. The sun was barely starting to rise and you had fallen asleep late last night. He was really gonna hear it this time. Well, that was until you rolled over and trailed your eyes over his shirtless body. 

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry." He sounds sincere as he struggles to put his belt through the loops of his pants. You watch as Leon fumbles with the belt but your eyes can't help but drift up ever so slightly. You roll your eyes and push your face into the pillow. Does he always have to be this hot? "What's got your panties in a twist this morning?" He chuckles lowly at your dramatic reaction. 

"Nothing." You mumble into the pillow. Leon laughs again and he's sure you're pouting into the pillow by now. "You can go back to sleep, you know." He's still oblivious to how much he’s turning you on. Moreover, how much his happy trail is turning you on. You roll onto your back again, deciding you needed air. He looks over at you, his belt finally around his hips, but still unbuckled.

His eyes roll over your body. Those shorts didn't look so short on you last night before bed. His eyes trail down to the comforter that was now half on the floor from your little temper tantrum. He walks over and picks it up, throwing it on the side that he should be sleeping in right now. You catch a glimpse of his unbuckled belt and it only makes your mind hazy with dirty thoughts. 

 "Do you have to be at work soon?" Your mouth says faster than your brain can think. "Not for another hour and a half. Why?" He responds calmly, totally unaware of what he was in for. "Do you have time for a quickie?" You bite your lip as you ask the question, and a smile appears on your face trying to sweeten the deal. His eyes go wide for a second as he processes what you're saying. "Right now?" He can't believe that you woke up this horny. (You didn't. It was his fault for being shirtless.)

You nod, hoping he'll say yes. As you wait for his answer your eyes can't help but drift from his face to his happy trail. "Come here." You smile happily and quickly crawl over to him. You waste no time unzipping his pants, pulling out his cock with record time. He lets out a laugh mixed with a moan when you eagerly take him in your mouth. He doesn't know what's gotten you so worked up but he doesn't complain. 

He places his hand on your head, pushing you just a little deeper on his cock. "Mmm, fuck baby." He moans as you run your tongue on the underside of his dick. Drool collects at the corner of your mouth as you suck him off like he's your favorite lollipop. Spoiler alert; he is. Your hands run over his happy trail, and suddenly it makes so much more sense to him. "God, you're such a slut for me. I love it."

You pull off his cock with a pop, a smile on your face as you look up at him. He had so many things he wanted to say to you. Many of them were teases for how happily you took his cock down your throat or how enticed you were by his happy trail. But he was so caught up in lust, he couldn't bring himself to say any of them. "All fours, please." He commands and you obey, your shorts riding up more than they should. 

He slides your shorts and underwear down in one fell swoop. "So pretty." He mumbles as he leaves soft kisses on your ass before lining himself up with your entrance. He slides his cock into your tight pussy, groaning lustfully and he wraps a hand loosely around your throat and pushes you against his chest as he pounds into your cunt.

Jumbled up words mixed with whimpers fall from your lips. His cock is fucking so deep inside of you, and his hand around your throat just fits like a necklace. "Mmm, so pretty, baby. Your pussy was made just f'r me." He moans into your ear, his voice deep, sexy, and full of need, just how you like it. "Takin' it s'good, yeah?" He chucked against your jaw, leaving rushes kisses.

Your jumbled words and whimpers soon turn to Leon's name. "Leon, Leon, oh fuck, Leon!" Your voice is so loud, he can't help but let your words ring through his ears. "Does it feel good, baby?" You can feel his cocky smirk on your jaw but you nod anyway. 

You can tell he's close as his moans turn into whines. "Gonna fill y'up. Gonna fill your pretty pussy with my cum." He whines into your ear. "Is that okay, baby?" He asks sweetly compared to what he said moments ago. "Please. Please cum in me!" His fingers meet your clit, rubbing pleasurable circles with ease.

"How could I say no to my beautiful princess?" He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he cums. He continues to fuck into you and rub your clit until you cum. Practically screaming his name loud enough for his neighbors to hear as you do. He catches his breath before he pulls out, letting you fall back to your position on all fours. 

He watches as his cum drips out of you, pride swelling his chest. "Now, I don't want to go to work. Look what you did." He groans as he fingers his cum back into you. "Then stay." You wiggle your ass tauntingly and he can't see it but he just knows your smirking. "You're such a bad girl. I love it." He chuckles as he pulls his belt off. 

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