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m-jelly · 2 days ago

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Work and play

CEO Levi

You're a not-so-secret couple at work, it's unspoken that people know you're a thing. This is a moment between you and Levi in his office.

This is pure consenting smut with dom Levi and a toy used.

You gulped hard as you sat at your desk covered in cute things. Dating Levi was wonderful, and being engaged to him was incredible. You met him by being his assistant, and romance blossomed right away. He was nervous about pursuing something because he was your boss, but it was hard to deny the connection between the two of you.

The love the two of you had was powerful and Levi was slightly obsessive and protective of you. The jobs you did at work got less and less to the point where you barely did anything. You did confront Levi about it but he said you're company was all he needed. It made you happy knowing he loved you and wanted you close.

What you didn't expect was for your man to be so incredibly kinky. At first, sex was cute, romantic and passionate but then you two mixed things up a bit and learned what your kinks were and you two matched each other.

Today the two of you were extra kinky. It was all agreed upon and Levi kept asking if you were okay with it, covering your face with kisses and being a very sweet lover. You gave him your consent over and over to reassure him you wanted this and it was your idea.

So, now you were sitting at work, Levi's big officer next to you and a toy egg in you and the device to control it was in your man's hands. You shifted a little and grabbed your papers. You pressed your lips together and thought about when you should go see Levi. You rose to your feet with a smile and knocked on his office door.

"Enter." He looked up from his computer and smiled as soon as he saw you. He purred your name. "Hello." He lifted the controller and smiled. "Do you have a report for me?"

You shivered as you felt the buzz starting. You stumbled inside. "I-I do."

He tilted his head. "Close the door."

You closed it behind you and locked it. "Y-Yes sir."

He lifted his hand and beckoned you closer. "Come over here."

You walked closer to his large desk with a huge window behind him with a view of the bustling city. Your legs buckled a little when the intensity of the buzzing increased and moved right against your G-spot. You stumbled a bit, grabbed the edge of his desk and panted.

Levi smirked at you. "Something wrong."

You rubbed your thighs together. "Mm, no sir."

He leaned closer. "You look like you're enjoying yourself. I wonder why."

You nibbled your lip. "Your report is ready."

He sat back and played with the device. "Give me the full report and try not to stumble." He tapped it against his lips. "Each mistake you make is one spank."

You gulped hard and gripped the sheet of paper. "Understood." You started your report and it seemed to go really well, but then Levi turned it up high. "A-Ah."

Levi chuckled. "That's one..."

Your cheeks heated up. "Mm." You huffed and carried on your report and ignored the buzzing when it was turned all the way up. It vibrated just right against a sensitive spot that you were close to cumming. You panted a little as you spoke, your legs shaking in pleasure but then the buzzing stopped. "Ah, shit."

Levi shook his head. "Oh dear, that's not very professional." He wrote on his paper. "Two."

You growled. "You did that on purpose. I was just about to-."

He noted down on his paper. "That counts as five. So, you have seven in total." He looked up at you. "Anything else?"

You pouted hard. "You."

He turned up the buzzing. "Me what?"

You moaned. "Levi."

He looked at the papers. "Continue."

You mewled a bit and carried on your report. You cried out when he turned it on the highest setting. "A-Ah!"

"Eight."

You finished off the last of it. "Th-That's all."

He turned it up high again and watched you drop and lean on his desk. "I'd say that bumps you to ten, but well done."

You panted a bit. "Please, Levi, please let me cum."

He pushed his large office chair back. "Spanks first, then you can cum. Now, come here beautiful."

You wobbled over to him. "Y-Yes."

He caressed your cheek. "Good girl." He patted his lap. "Bend over."

You leaned over his lap and wiggled your bum. "Yes, Levi."

"Remember to count each one."

You felt excitement rush through you. "I'm ready." You moaned as Levi spanked you hard. "One."

"Good girl."

You shivered. "Two!" You mewled when he rubbed your bum. "Mm."

He turned on the vibration of the egg. "Keep counting."

You panted and wiggled on his thighs. "Three!" You squeaked at the pleasure of the spank and the vibration. "Four." You started drooling as you felt pleasure consume you. "Five." You moaned as Levi rubbed your clothed pussy. "Levi."

He chuckled. "I thought I'd give you a tiny reward."

"Thank you." You bucked when he spanked you again. "Six!" You rocked your hips a little. "Seven."

Levi played with your hair. "Three more to go and I'll give you the best reward."

You flinched when he spanked hard. "Eight."

"Good girl. You're doing so well." He turned the vibration up a little bit more. "Two more left."

You shifted on him. "Mm. A-Ah nine." You panted. "T-Ten!"

Levi lifted you and sat you on his desk. "Good girl. You did it."

You shivered as your legs started to shake. "Levi."

He pushed your skirt up before leaning up and kissing you. He softly said your name and smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He sat down and purred. "Now for the reward, which is really a reward for me as well." He pushed your legs wide and ripped your tights. He lightly touched your panties making you mewl a little. "You're soaked."

You tried to close your legs. "Le-Levi."

He tugged your panties to the side. "Don't be shy, my love." He dragged you closer by your hips. "Now, let's make you cum." He turned up the device on high before leaning towards your heat and taking your clit into his mouth. "Mm."

You cried out in pleasure, your thighs clenched his head and then you threw your head back. "Le-Levi!" You tangled your fingers in his raven hair and tugged hard making him growl against you. You panted as your eyes rolled back into your head. "A-Ah!" The pleasure that burned through you was blinding. "F-fuck."

Levi gripped your thighs as he enjoyed the blissful taste that was your arousal. He loved eating you, it was such a delight to taste you and see you crumble above him. The way your thighs always clenched him was so beautiful, it always made him happy to make you happy. Levi's pleasure was your pleasure.

You bucked your hips against him. "Mm. I'm, ah." Your legs shook hard as your orgasm rushed you and consumed all of you. "Levi."

He sucked on your clit allowing you to ride out your orgasm. He moved his tongue to your pussy and lapped up all of your arousal. He pulled back and panted as you shivered. He reached over and turned off the egg. He smiled as you flopped back onto his desk and lay there.

Levi looped his finger around the line for the egg and pulled it out of you. He smiled as you whimpered. "Sorry, my love." He untied the strap from your thigh and studied the egg. "It did well."

You sat up and leaned on your hands. "Mm, it was really good."

Levi placed it on his desk. "You did amazing."

You slipped off his desk and sat on his lap. "I didn't need to use the safe word."

He nuzzled the crook of your neck. "You were so sexy."

You giggled. "Are you okay? I know it's a lot to be dom."

He hugged you tightly. "I did worry at one point, but you looked so good and you were in bliss." He kissed you over and over. "We should do something like that again."

You nodded. "I'd like that."

He massaged your thigh a bit. "You need new tights." He pulled his drawer open and showed you his collection of new tights he had for you. "Which one do you want?"

You hummed and you looked them over. "So many choices."

"I got the cute pattern ones you like."

You slipped off his lap, pushed your skirt down and wiggled out of your ripped tights. "I have my eye on a pair." You paused when you heard Levi growl. You giggled and looked back at him. "Want me bent over your desk, mm?"

He panted a little. "Y-Yes."

You lay on his desk with your bum to him. You wiggled it at him. "Come on handsome, time to cum inside your fiancee. Fill me to the brim. Stuff me full. Give me everything you have. Empty yourself inside me and I'll keep it all in there all day long like a good girl."

Levi shook a little. "Oh, fuck I love you."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman

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berristreasuredlibrary · 1 day ago

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All characters are aged up as needed, MDNI 18+ !!!! Tryna get back into writing, it's a little sucky so I apologize. Spitroasting next?? Also not proofread :3

"Watch closely, brat. I won't explain it again. Got it? If you put her legs over your shoulders, you can go deeper - shit - and you'll hit the spot that - there we go, easy. Look at her, I got it spot on, didn't I?"

The older man above you shifts his hips, rolling them into yours slowly, fingers digging into your plush thighs - his nails leaving faint crescent-shaped marks upon your skin. The tip of his leaking cock prods against the gummy spot within your spasming walls, a soft grunt leaving him when your nails scorch marks down his back.

Your mewls grow increasingly louder as you near your peak, with how expertly he fucks you. Deep, slow strokes over and over, making your mind hazy and your toes curl. Yet the thing that brings you closer and closer to the edge is the pair of eyes watching entranced on the edge of the bed. Wide-eyed and lips parted in awe, your boyfriend watches his mentor bring you closer and closer to the edge, his eyes locked on where the older man's dick disappears into your squelching pussy.

It's perverted, it's wrong, but it's so damn sexy; watching you writhe and moan the name of his teacher. Watching your hands claw at anything they could grab hold of - the sheets, your tits, or the arms of the man above you. He can feel his own cock straining against the confines of his pants, just begging to be free, begging for some time of relief.

Yet he keeps his hands clenched on his thighs, refusing to look away from the erotic scene playing before him, even as his dick throbs and jumps with each sound you make. He forces his eyes from where you and the older man are joined to your face, watching your brows scrunch together and your eyes flutter, your lips parted in a perfect 'o' to let the most sinful sounds tumble out of.

When your orgasm does crash over you, his eyes dart back down to your pussy, watching as your juices come squirting out, coating his mentor's thighs and pelvis with your essence, his breath stopping entirely. The older man lets out a harsh exhale, gripping your thighs tighter as he grinds his hips against the backs of your thighs, balls flush against your ass.

His eyes move to the younger man at his side, watching him closely as he nods down at you. "Rub her clit. Tight circles. Not too fast - yeah, just like that. Good, good. Look at her, watch her face." The older man can feel his own orgasm rapidly approaching, the way your pussy clamps and gushes around his dick paired with the way you sound making it difficult to hold off his orgasm.

Gritting his teeth, he lets his head fall back, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to maintain his composure. When your moans trail off to soft whimpers, he pulls out of you with a sharp inhale, squeezing the base of his dick as he looks down at your limp, twitching form. "There, I assume you don't need my help anymore? Just do what I told you and you'll have your little girlfriend squirting without problem."

As the older man steps back, looking down for his jeans, the younger man speaks up, his voice ragged with barely concealed desire. "Wait." The younger man reaches out to grab a hold of his wrist, stopping his mentor and looking up at him with desperation, making breathing difficult.

"Can you teach me how to creampie?"

Eren + Levi

Simon (Ghost) + Johnny (Soap)

Sukuna + Yuuji

+ more

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cheesecakeloverr · 1 day ago

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THE MORNING AFTER

hamzahthefantastic x reader

‎𐰁𖦹°⋆ When you wake up after a night out in a strangers bed, the two of you desperately try and figure out the events of that night, and how you ended up in his bed.

———————-

I stir in bed, awakening to a headache that pierces my skull. I shift in the covers lazily, snuggling into the warmth of them as cool air filtered the room.

Just as I’m near the the point of drifting back to sleep, I feel an arm drape over me. I sit upright immediately in shock, my eyes wide as they land across a dark curly haired man, who seems cosy in bed beside me. My mind begins racing, my heart beating uncontrollably fast as I stare at him, extremely confused, realising he was shirtless.

My eyes tear away from him, to the room surrounding me, and my jaw gapes wide open, as the room looking back at me wasn’t mine. The question running through my head, was how the fuck did i end up here, in this house, in this man’s bed?

Suddenly, the man in bed starts to stir, his eyes opening blearily as he wipes his curls away from his eyes, yawning softly, completely unaware.

That is, until his eyes adjust to the morning light peering through the window, and his expression becomes bewildered, stumbling out of the bed, wrapping the covers around his exposed body.

“Why are you in my bed? Who are you?” He exclaimed, his eyes widening as they scanned over me.

“I don’t know! I don’t even know who you are, or why I’m here, or.. even where the fuck I am!” I nervously ramble, my head in my hands as I avoid eye contact with him, my cheeks flushing pink.

He tilts his head as he continues to look me up and down with wide eyes, making me all the more flustered as i realised my attire, and the lack of clothes covering me.

“I was hoping that you’d be able to fill me in on what happened last night too” he asks, his breathing slowing down as he began to calm himself.

“My head is fucking killing me, and all I even vaguely remember is that one of my friends invited me to this party last night..” I recall, sitting down on the edge of his bed as I try and remember more of the previous night.

He slowly nods his head as you speak, smirking slightly as he gets a good look at you in your underwear.

“You and me both, this hangover isn’t fun”He responds, scratching the back of his head as he groans, feeling the effects of the alcohol from the night before still.

“Any more details coming back to you?”

I sigh, frustrated, until I get an idea.

“Wait, your phone. Where is it?” I ask frantically, thoughts and ideas flooding my mind.

He chuckles at my eagerness to be on his phone, clearly amused by it. He stretches to grab his phone that was charging on the beside table, handing it to me.

“There you go” he smiles, sitting down on the bed beside me, leaning back.

“Did you take any pictures last night, or post anything?” I question, giving the phone back to him so he could enter his passcode, my fingers dancing against his as I do, causing my heart rate to go up just that little bit faster.

He leaned in close to me, his muscular build now almost touching mine, grinning as he watched me fidget with my fingers as he enters the passcode. He opens up his photos, scrolling through photos and videos from the night before.

“I got a few, yeah” he mentions, scrolling through the dozens he had saved.

“Show me” i whisper, almost scared to look, just incase, as I lean closer to him, peering over his shoulder to face the small phone.

He snickers at how close I’ve gotten, obviously liking having my body practically pressed against his. He opens up one of the videos, showing a clip of me and him, clearly drunk, dancing together in the middle of the table.

I groan, running my hands through my hair as my cheeks flush bright pink, embarrassment overcoming me at my past, drunken self.

“Just.. skip to the next one” i cringe, hearing my past drunken self singing through the speaker.

He chuckles at my embarrassed state, thoroughly enjoying my reaction. He skips to the next video, where we see a video of me and him standing next to each other, and I’m clearly trying to balance myself on his much larger frame as i struggle to stand up straight.

I can faintly hear the sound of my girlish giggling over the music, making me feel like vomiting due to how much desperation leaked off of me.

He continues to scroll through the videos for a little while longer, showing us both in various compromising positions on the couch, floor, bathroom, even the kitchen. He smirks to himself as i become more flustered, before finally returning to the main camera roll.

“Well” he grinned, turning to face me, our faces merely inches apart.

“That explains a lot”

“Remind me never to go out ever again and keep myself locked up in my house forever” i groan, rubbing my eyes intensely until I begin seeing stars.

He laughs gently at my dramatic exclamation, as he reaches his hand out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, enjoying how flustered i looked.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, trust me, we were both just as bad as each other” he sighs, leaning back again his bed once again.

A silence fills the air between us, not awkward, just comfortable as our minds race with different thoughts, and confusing conversations.

We both turn to each other, at the same time, speaking over one another.

“I don’t eve-“

“Listen I’m-“

We both pause, laughing slightly, until he motions his head towards me, and i go first.

“I don’t even know your name..” I admit, wondering if he ever told me it to begin with.

He chuckles as i admit that i don’t know his name, clearly amused by it.

“it’s Hamzah” he replies casually, before smirking.

“And what’s yours? other than the pretty girl that stumbled into my bed last night?”

Blush covers my face before I can help it, and I smile sheepishly. “It’s y/n. You’re so shameless” i laugh, slapping his arm lightly as he chuckles, his curls falling into his dark eyes.

He grins in response to my shyness, clearly enjoying my reaction to his shameless flirting.

He looks down at my arms as i slap his, taking my wrists in his hands, his fingers almost completely circling my arms.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered” he teases, knowing how to get a rise out of me at this point. How I wish I was sober enough to remember last night..

I freeze, memories from last night flooding my head as my heart begins to panic, beating faster and faster.

“I should probably, uh, leave. Get out of here, you know..” i say awkwardly, standing up from the warm spot on the bed beside him, and looking around the room for my discarded clothes, evidence of our interaction last night.

I’d never gotten this close with someone before, and certainly not a man I had met the night before. It was surreal, how easy it was to talk to him, but I knew I needed to slow down.

He watches me as i stand up from the bed, his dark eyes trailing all over my body, shamelessly appreciating the view. He lets out a light sigh, not making an effort to stop me.

“Yeah.. probably should”

He mumbles, also standing up, the sheets falling from around his waist to the floor, revealing his muscular bare torso, causing my heart to drop to my stomach, as was forced to peel my eyes away.

I grab the wrinkled clothes, throwing them on me, as I tug my shoes on. A part of me wished he wanted me to stay, but at this point, I’d felt as though I’d overstayed my welcome, and was sadly prepared to never see this man again, no matter how much I would yearn for it.

He stands there, in nothing but low hung sweatpants, watching me throw on my clothes, his muscular chest on full display, showing his broad shoulders and defined collarbone.

He notices my slightly flustered expression as i look up at him. He grins, clearly enjoying the way i was staring at him, before speaking up again.

“You really in a hurry to leave, sweetheart?”

“I’ll get out of your hair, stop bothering you. Just give me-“ i huff, struggling to get my shoe on.

These fucking converse would be the death of me.

He chuckles at my frustration, watching me struggle with putting on my shoe, still half naked as his strong arms cross over his broad chest. He watches me carefully for a moment as i struggle, before stepping forward.

“Let me help you, silly”

He grins, moving to kneel down in front of me, grabbing my foot gently and guiding it into the shoe.

I sigh, pink creeping in my cheeks as he got to his knees in front of me.

“Thank you, Hamzah.” I spoke, tasting his name on my tongue, and enjoying the way it felt.

He smiled to himself as i said his name, clearly enjoying how i sounded when i said it, evident by the expression on his face.

He finished helping me put on my shoe, gently setting my foot back down on the floor. He looked up at me from his knelt position, peering up at me with a sly grin, his face now even closer to my body than before. He slowly got up, bringing me with him, as we both stood facing each other.

“No problem” He replied, his hands finding their way to my hips, his calloused palms settling on the skin beneath my cropped shirt, as I began to feel as though I might melt under his touch.

I softly gasp, a little breathless, as his fingers dance their way further up my shirt, leaving a trail of fire as they did.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, causing us to fly apart, my skin cooling as his touch departs.

He groans, rolling his eyes as the doorbell rings, a look of annoyance crossing his face.

“Stay here. I know who that is. I’ll be right back” He mutters.

He quickly disappears out of the room, heading for the front door.

I’m still stunned from our interaction, but I follow him, not listening to his commands. I needed to see who was at the door. Who interrupted our moment..

He strides hurriedly down the hall towards the front door, still in nothing but his low-hung sweatpants.

After opening the door, and then promptly slamming it shut, he lets out a frustrated sigh, turning to head back to his room to get a shirt, but stops in his tracks when he sees me following behind him.

“I told you to stay in my room” He says, his eyes brows furrowing as his brown eyes glance over me, my dishevelled state.

“Obviously I’m not gonna do that, be real. Whose at the door?” I question, my voice unwavering as I roll my eyes.

He rolls his eyes in response.

“It’s my stupid friend, Martin. He’s probably just here to gloat at me about getting with a girl last night too” he shakes his head, rubbing his hands over his face briefly.

Relief floods from me, whether i wanted it to or not.

He sighs as he says this, seemingly annoyed by the idea of his friend coming over just to rub another hookup in his face.

“I’ll uh, get to going then..” i mutter, avoiding his eyes as I fix my short shirt on my body awkwardly. I didn’t want to make it uncomfortable between him and his friend, and I knew I was outstaying my welcome.

The.. interaction we just had, was maybe just that. An interaction.

He stands in front of me, looking down into my eyes. He could tell that i was a mixture of frustrated and disappointed from his friend interrupting us both, and he felt the same way.

He reaches a hand up to brush my hair behind my ear, just like how he did earlier.

“I’ll walk you out” he mumbles, unlocking the door.

I let out a breathe I didn’t know I was holding, and when he swings the door open, and his friend sees us, he smirks.

He groans at the sight of his friend’s smirk, knowing exactly what his expression was for.

His friend’s eyes dart to me as he looks me up and down, clearly taking in how i was dressed in last night’s clothes.

His grin widens as he notices my flustered expression.

Hamzah grabs my wrist, his touch enlightening me, and slides us past his friend, who enters Hamzahs apartment nonchalantly, slamming the door behind him.

Any more slams, and that door would be knocked off its hinges.

His friend lets out a chuckle that’s heard through the other side of the door, as Hamzah drags me out of the apartment quickly, obviously aware that he was annoyed with his friend’s presence, and trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He keeps a firm grip on my wrist as he pulls me outside, letting out a sigh once we’re outside and away from his friend.

I sigh, looking around at the exterior of the apartment building, and recognising it. “I can walk back to my place from here..”

He pauses for a moment, letting my wrist slip from his grip. He looks down at me, his face showing he was feeling frustrated by the fact that he knew this was the end of things, and that I was about to leave.

“Are you sure? it’s kind of late. you shouldn’t walk on your own”

I smile, giggling. “It’s 11am, Hamzah.” I remind him, the daylight shining on us in the cold autumnal air.

He groans, facepalming himself at his own stupidity, causing me to let out a small chuckle, appreciating how he cared for me, however small it was, before running his hand over his face, the reality of the situation finally setting in.

He looks down at me again, his dark eyes searching mine, desperately trying to look for an excuse to keep me there longer.

The silence between us is unfathomable, and I can’t take it anymore.

“I’ll maybe see you around Hamzah.” I finally speak, breaking the tension between us, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver, his arms not there to keep me warm anymore.

Hamzah watches me wrap my arms around myself, taking notice of the light shiver that passes through me. He sighs.

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime” He mutters bitterly, knowing it’s a lie the second the words leave his teeth.

I gently lean in, kissing him on the cheek, my warm lips on his cold face, as I smile, my heart heavy in my chest, and turn away from him, walking away.

As I take those steps, I can feel the weight of what just happened lingering in the air. It was brief, yet somehow profound, like a fleeting moment that leaves a mark.

I felt as though I had a connection with him, one that just wasn’t made too last. It was a moment, that I enjoyed, and appreciated in all its glory. But once a moment passes, you must let it move on.

I glance back, my eyes locking on his, catching a glimpse of his small, subtly sad smile, a reminder of the connection we shared, however little it was.

There's a bittersweet taste in my mouth, a mix of nostalgia and the realization that sometimes, moments are meant to be just that—moments.

———————-

He watches you walk farther away, his mind spinning in circles. He stands there on the sidewalk, his head swimming with a concoction of thoughts and emotions.

He couldn’t figure out why he was so reluctant to let you go, why he felt his heart ache in his chest watching you walk away.

He wanted to run up to you, to grab your hand and tug you back towards him, but just as quickly as the thought appeared in his head, it vanished.

Gone, not just for now, but for forever.

———————-

#hamzah fluff #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #slushy noobz #thatmartinkid #hamzah imagines #hamzahsmut #hamzah angst #martin and hamzah #hamzah fic #hamzah x reader #mandysiphone #girlblogger #just girly things #slushy virus

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lee-laurent · 1 day ago

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Ensnared - Luke Hughes

Summary: There's something suspicious about Luke's new girlfriend

content: swearing, angst, some fluff, supernatural aspects, spooky (a little)

wc: 7.4k

notes: ik i'm a few days late from halloween but i really wanted to put out a supernatural-esque fic for you guys! halloweekend was insane for me so again sorry this is almost a week post-halloween! hope you guys like this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! this is different than my usual stuff but i still love it

The lights were dimmed low in the apartment, the only glow coming from some twinkling fairy lights and candles flickering in jack-o'-lanterns. Luke could feel the music in his chest as he stood near the kitchen counter, nursing a beer. He usually didn't go all out for Halloween, but Jack had insisted he join the team for their party, saying her needed to get out and let loose. They'd even coaxed him into a costume--one of his jerseys and some fake scars on his face, almost too close to his usual look to be considered a costume.

"Lighten up, Lukey!" Jack clapped him on the back, grinning through his over-the-top vampire costume, his girlfriend tucked close to his side. "It's Halloween! Have some fun!"

Luke rolled his eyes, but cracked a smile. He scanned the room lazily, half-focused on all his friends and chaos of laughter and music. He was just about to glance away when he saw her.

She was standing alone, near the edge of the room, and she was... stunning. Her hair spilled over her shoulders like waves, catching the dim light and shimmering in shades that seemed almost impossible--dark but with an almost etheral glow. Her dress, flowing and midnight blue, hugged her figure perfectly, and she moved with a calm, mesmerizing grace that cut through the noise of the crowd.

Their eyes met, and his stomach flipped.

"See something you like, bro?" Jack nudged him, following his gaze, his girlfriend giggling beside him. Luke blinked, snapping out of his trance. He could feel his cheeks heating up, and Jack just laughed, rolling his eyes. "Go talk to her, dude. Looks like she's waiting for someone to notice her."

Luke hesitated, but something inside him urged him forward. He took a deep breath, gripping his drink a little tighter, and started weaving through the crowd until he reached her side. She looked up, her eyes catching his with an intensity that felt magnetic. They were deep and dark, like the ocean at night--bottomless, mysterious, dangerous.

"Hi," he managed, suddenly feeling like he'd forgotten how to form sentences.

A smile played at her lips. "Hi," she replied, her voice smooth and musical, like a song he'd heard once but couldn't quite remember.

For a moment, they just stood there, caught in the haze of the party, but it was like nothing else mattered. Luke felt a strange pull, something unexplainable that made him want to stay rooted there, by her side.

"I'm Luke," his voice sounded breathless even to him.

"Marina." Her named rolled off her tongue like silk, and she extended her hand. When he shook it, her touch was warm, but it sent a chill straight to his core, leaving a strange tingling feeling where their fingers had connected.

"Not much for Halloween parties?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too awkward.

She shrugged, her smile mysterious. "I don't usually come to things like this. But... something told me tonight was worth it."

His pulse quickened. It was probably nothing, but he felt like she was looking right through him, reading him in a way that made him nervous. He shook it off, laughing a little. "Well, welcome to the chaos. It's a bit wild, but it's a good time, I think."

"Chaos isn't always a bad thing," she leaned in a bit closer. "Sometimes it's exactly what we need."

Her words seemed to have a hypnotic effect on him, and he found himself nodding, his gaze locked with hers. Everything in the background faded. He could barely remember what he'd been thinking about just minutes before.

"Luke!" Nico's voice cut through his trance. Luke flinched, snapping his head toward Nico, who was standing with a raised eyebrow, watching the two of them with curiosity. He smiled, but there was a strange look in his eyes, like he'd interrupted something he didn't trust.

"Oh, hey, Nico," Luke blinked, trying to shake off the foggy feeling. He looked back at Marina, but she didn't seem bothered by the interruption. Instead, she just offered Nico a polite smile, tilting her head in acknowledgment.

Nico's eyes flickered between them, lingering a second too long on Marina. "Just checking in, man. You've been a little quiet tonight."

Luke laughed it off, feeling a strange surge of frustration at Nico's interruption, even though he knew his friend was looking out for him. "I'm fine," he said, a little too quickly. "Just... talking."

"Alright. Just wanted to make sure you're good."

Marina's eyes glittered with amusement as Nico walked away, and she turned back to Luke. "Your friend seems... protective."

"He just worries too much," Luke replied, a bit embarrassed.

"Well," she murmured, her voice like a gentle wave lapping at the shoreline, "tonight, you don't have to worry about anything. Just... enjoy yourself."

Luke couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so... alive. As the night went on, the others in the apartment had faded away into blurs, leaving him fully focused on Marina. She seemed just as absorbed in him, her dark eyes watching him with an intensity that made his pulse race.

"So," he attemped a casual smile, "how do you know everyone here?"

A wry smile danced on her lips. "I don't, actually. I just... found my way here." She shrugged one shoulder elegantly, her eyes glinting with a secret he wanted to know. "I suppose I'm just drawn to certain places. The right places."

There was a hidden meaning behind her words he couldn't shake. But her smile was so enchanting that he just nodded, leaning in a little closer. "Well, it's a good thing you came. I think I'd be bored out of mind if you hadn't."

"Oh, I doubt that." She tilted her head, considering him in a way that made his breath hitch. "You seem like you're never bored, Luke Hughes."

He blinked, surprised that she knew his last name when he hadn't mentioned it. But before he could ask, she smiled again, and he forgot his question as her hand brushed his arm--a light, fleeting touch that made his skin tingle.

"I feel like I know you already," he was surprised by his own boldness. He wanted to be seen by her, he wanted her to know everything about him.

"Do you?" her smile was amused. "Maybe you do. I have a way of... drawing people to me." Her words were like a whisper, her eyes locked on his. "I suppose I'm a bit of a mystery. Not quite from here, you could say."

The words made his skin prickle with something he couldn't explain. He wanted to know more, needed to know more. "What does that mean?"

"Have you ever felt like there was more to life than just... this?" she asked, gesturing to the room around them. "Like you're only seeing the tiny pieces of the world, when there's so much more hidden beneath?"

The question struck him as strange, but it made his heart race. He nodded slowly, feeling oddly exposed, as if she'd seen straight through his exterior to something he didn't know he was hiding.

"Yeah. I... guess I do."

"Good. Not many people do. You have to look a little deeper to see the real world."

A teammate's laugh broke their little moment, pulling Luke back to the sounds of the party. He noticed that the other guys had been glancing over at them, nudging each other and smirking as if to say, Look at Luke, completely spellbound.

He could almost hear Jack teasing him. Normally, he would've laughed it off, maybe shrugged and joined the guys for a drink. But tonight, none of that mattered. There was only her--only Marina.

"So, where are you from?" he asked, desperate to know more.

"Oh... a place far from here. Somewhere most people haven't seen." She lifted her glass, eyeing the liquid inside as if it were the most curious thing in the world. "You know, I haven't tasted something like this in... well, centuries, it feels like."

He laughed, but her eyes were dead serious. The chill that ran down his spine was unmistakable, and he felt an impulse to lean in even closer, to feel her presence more fully. It had to be a joke, a weird way to add to the Halloween vibe, right?

Before he could ask, she took a slow sip, the look in her eyes mesmerizing. It was like her words had wrapped around him, drawing him into her orbit, making him feel like nothing else mattered.

"I'm glad I came tonight," she murmured, her voice soft, almost as if she were speaking only to herself. "Sometimes, it's hard to find people who understand... the way things really are."

"Yeah? And how are things... really?"

"It would take more than one night to tell you that. But perhaps we'll have more time. If you want."

"I do," he said instantly, without even thinking. The words felt natural, as if she'd pulled them from him somehow.

She seemed satisfied, giving a small, mysterious nod before she leaned in close, brushing his cheek with a touch that sent shivers down his spine. Her lips were close to his ear, her breath warm. "Until next time, then."

And with that, she was gone. She drifted away through the crowd, disappearing like it was a dream. Luke tried to follow her, to catch one last glimpse, but the crowd thickened, and no matter which way he turned, he couldn't find her.

He stood there, dumbfounded, feeling as if a spell had just been broken--but only for a second. His head was spinning, and he felt her presence lingering like a haunting melody that he couldn't shake.

"Well, Luke, looks like you've got a new fan," Nico said from behind him.

Luke barely heard him, his mind lost in Marina's dark eyes and her words that felt like they'd been written just for him. He couldn't stop thinking about her, his heart aching with an unexplainable longing. She'd carved herself into his memory, and he knew, even as he lay awake hours later, that he was already falling, deeper than ever before.

Two mornings later, Luke was the first on the rink. Or, more accurately, the first one pacing the outside of the rink with an ear-to-ear grin on his face, his mind so far from hockey he might as well have been somewhere completely different. When the guys started trickling in, he didn't notice; he was scrolling through his phone, texting with a smile that hadn't left his face since last night.

Jack was the first to notice, elbowing Nico as he smirked. "Look at him," he whispered with a grin. "Our boy's got it bad."

Nico glanced over, amused but slightly concerned. "Bad? He met her two nights ago. Doesn't usually happen that fast, you know?"

"Oh, come on, Nico," Jack laughed, watching Luke's dazed, half-grinning expression with a proud, older-brother look. "Kid's in love. And he deserves it, doesn't he? Especially after all those jokes about him being too serious." He shook his head. "I'm just glad he's finally letting loose."

Nico was unconvinced. He frowned, noticing how Luke seemed glued to his phone, as if he couldn't bear to be away from it for even a second. The more Nico watched him, the more a strange, uneasy feeling settled in his gut. "It just... I dunno. It's a little fast, don't ya think?"

Jack shrugged, laughing. "Well, I for one am happy for him. Let's leave him alone."

Nico nodded slowly, but he couldn't help glancing back at Luke. Something about the way he was acting felt off--almost like he was in a trance. Usually, Jack would be the first to hit the ice, focused and ready to warm up, but he hadn't even looked up from his phone.

As practice began, Luke finally put his phone away, but Nico kept watching him. Every few minutes, Luke's gaze would drift to the door of the locker room, like he was waiting for a message. When drills started, his usually sharp reflexes were sluggish, his focus absent. He missed passes, stumbled through plays, and even forgot his positioning once or twice, much to the coach's frustration.

Jack just laughed it off. "Guess he's got other things on his mind," he joked.

Nico, however, wasn't laughing. When they had a break, he approached Luke, trying to keep things light. "So... someone had a good night at the party, huh?"

Luke grinned, his eyes lighting up at the mere mention of Marina. "Yeah... Yeah, I did. She's... different, ya know? I don't think I've ever met anyone like her."

"Different, huh?" The captain raised an eyebrow. "What's so different about her?"

Luke hesitated, as if he couldn't find the words to explain it. He just shook his head, his eyes a little distant. "She just... gets me. Like, she understands stuff that most people wouldn't, y'know? And when I'm with her, it's like everything else fades away. Like I'm in a dream."

Nico's concern deepened. "A dream? Don't you think it's a little... strange to feel that way this fast?"

But Luke laughed it off just like his brother. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's not like anything I've ever felt before. And she--" He stopped, his eyes glazing over a little. "I dunno. She just knows things."

"Like what?"

Luke hesitated again, a dreamy look on his face. "The other night... she knew stuff about me I didn't even tell her. Like, personal stuff." He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just overthinking it, but... it feels like I've known her for years. Like she's been a part of me."

Nico forced a smile, trying to hide the unease he felt. "Yeah, maybe. Just... be careful, okay?"

But Luke barely heard him again. As soon as a notification buzzed on his phone, his eyes lit up, and he pulled it out, smiling as he read a message from her. Nico had never seen Luke act this way before, and something told him that whatever hold Marina had on Luke wasn't as innocent as it seemed.

By the end of the week, the changes in Luke were impossible to ignore. His dedication to hockey--a commitement that had been rock-solid--was slipping. He was often late to practice, distracted, or exhausted. Once, Nico caught him sneaking off during a break, texting Marina with an intensity that bordered on obsession.

"Luke," Nico said, "are you even here right now? Or have you mentally checked out?"

Luke blinked, looking up from his phone like he'd forgotten where he was. "I'm here," he mumbled, though his fingers were itching to reply to Marina's last message.

"Dude, you're supposed to be focusing on pratice," Nico pressed, trying not to sound annoyed. "Are you okay?"

Luke looked at him, and for a moment, his expression was almost... irritated. "I am focused. Just... I don't know, she's different. It's like I need to be with her, Nico."

"Need? That's... not normal, man."

Just then, Jack bounded over, rolling his eyes at the serious expression on Nico's face. "Nico, come on, cut the guy some slack! He's got a girl he's crazy about, so what?" He threw an arm around Luke's shoulders. "Let him enjoy it! We don't all find someone like that."

Luke managed a smile, grateful for Jack's support, and Jack flashed Nico a pointed look, telling him to drop it.

But Nico couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Luke was acting like someone else, like he'd been changed. And it was more than just puppy love; it was like he was under a spell, an invisible tether he couldn't escape from. The idea sounded ridiculous--more like a Halloween ghost story than anything else--but he couldn't ignore what he'd been seeing.

That night, Nico lay awake, mulling over everything Luke had told him about Marina. He couldn't help thinking back to the way she'd looked at him that night, her eyes dark and knowing. There had been something about her... something he couldn't put into a words. A feeling he couldn't shake.

Then a memory hit him--something he'd heard, maybe just a legend, about people who could captivate others in ways that defied logic. He'd thought it was just a fairy tale, but now... he wasn't so sure.

The next morning, he found Luke standing alone by the rink, staring at his phone. "Still thinking about her?" Nico asked.

Luke glanced up, his expression... pained. "It's weird," he mumbled. "It's like she's in my head. I can't stop thinking about her."

Nico's concern turned to alarm. This was more than a crush. Something deeper, darker, was at play. "Luke, maybe you need to take a break from her Just... clear your head."

Luke scowled, his posture becoming defensive. "Why are you so against her, Nico? You don't even know her!"

"Maybe. But I know you. And this isn't you, Luke."

Luke looked taken aback, his gaze flashing with a strange confusion. But then he shook his head, pocketing his phone. "You don't understand, Nico. You can't understand."

As Luke walked away, Nico felt a chill run down his spine. He was certain now--Marina wasn't just any girl. And he was going to find out exactly who she was, no matter what it took.

Luke's sense of time was blurring. He couldn't pinpoint when he started feeling that itch to see her every moment he could. It was like he attached to a rope that kept pulling him back, drawing him in like never before. Marina had become his every thought, every second between practice and sleept spent waiting for her texts, which came at odd hours, often in the dead of night.

Every time they met, it was somewhere new, somewhere unexpected. She would send him cryptic directions that led to hidden spots in the city--places he hadn't known existed. First, it had been a secluded coffee shop by the river, only open after hours. Then, it was an abandoned rooftop overlooking the city, their eyes reflecting the city's pulse.

Tonight, she'd told him to meet at the edge of an old, overgrown park on the outskirts of town. Luke had hesitated as he looked around the deserted space, but as soon as she appeared, a smile on her lips, his hesitation melted. She took his hand, her fingers warm against his cold skin, and led him deeper into the park, away from the faint street lights.

"You like these places," he remarked, his voice detached, like he was in a dream.

She laughed softly, her voice weaving through the trees. "I like places that feel... hidden. They're more real, don't you think? Not so tied to the world that everyone wants you to see."

Luke nodded. It felt like she was speaking a language he barely understood but wanted to, needed to. "Yeah. Like... like they're just for us."

Marina turned, her eyes catching his with that same magnetic intensity she always had. "Exactly," she whispered, her fingers trailing up his arm. "It's like you know what I'm thinking."

"I... yeah. Sometime I feel that."

They stood close, her presence enveloping him like the night itself. She was so close that he could see the way her pupils dilated. "And that's why I like being with you, Luke. You're... different."

She knew exactly how to make him feel like the only person in the world. Any doubts he had, any worries that flitted across his mind about her or the way he felt... they all vanished the moment she looked at him. She didn't even have to speak; just a touch, a glance, and he was hers, swept into a current he couldn't control.

While Luke disappeared into the night, Nico sat in his apartment, his laptop open as he scrolled through Marina's social media for the third time that evening. He knew was overstepping, but his gut wouldn't let this go. Something wasn't right, and he was going to prove it.

He started with her photos, but that only added to his unease. Her account was full of pictures, but they were... strange. Oddly curated, almost impersonal, yet haunting. Most were places, landscapes with a dark, moody atmosphere--misty forests, empty fields, waves crashing against cliffs. When she did appear in her own photos, her face was always turned away or obscured, as if she were more a shadow than a person. And what really struck him was the dates. The photos went back years, yet she looked exactly the same in every single one.

He clicked on one from nearly eight years ago, studying it closely. She was sitting on a rock by the sea, her hair blowing in the wind, a distant look on her face. The style was modern, but there was something timeless about it, something off. And as he compared her current photos to older ones, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were... staged. As if she'd been posing in the same way for decades.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He tried to tell himself it was a coincidence, that maybe she just had a certain aesthetic she liked, but it wasn't convincing. Frustrated, he swtiched tabs, digging through online archives, local stories, anything that could give him more information. But her trail seemed to vanish whenever he got close, she was like a ghost, slipping just out of reach.

He leaned back, rubbing his temples, trying to shake off all the bad feelings. He didn't want to believe it, but the more he found, the more he was convinced: Marina was hiding something, and it was bigger than he'd realized.

Back in the deserted park, Luke and Marina sat side by side on a bench, the shadows thickening around them. Her presence was intoxicating, and he found himself leaning ever closer, mesmerized by her voice.

"Do you ever wonder what lies beyond this world?"

"What do you mean?"

"Life... it's just the surface of something much deeper. Most people never even notice. But you... I think you can see it." She looked at him, her eyes sharp and assessing. "Can't you feel it, Luke? Like there's something you're missing, something just out of reach?"

He nodded slowly, his words tugging at something deep inside him. It felt like she was speaking directly to a hidden part of his soul. "Yeah. I... I think I do."

She smiled, and he could've sworn her eyes darkened, just for a second. "Good," she murmured, intertwining her fingers with his. "Maybe one day, I'll show you."

He felt a thrill run through him. The way she said it felt like a promise, like she was offering him something no one else could. Any lingering doubt melted away, replaced by a hunger to know more, to fall deeper into whatever spell she'd woven around him.

It was nearly midnight when Nico stumbled onto a page in an old forum discussing local legends and folklore. The story that caught his eye created goosebumps all over his arms.

It was a tale about a woman who had been seen over the centuries, known for enchanting young men, leading them away to secluded places and leaving them forever changed--or worse, vanishing altogether. The description was vague, but certain details matched perfectly: her beauty, her mysterious nature, her tendency to appear and disappear without a trace.

His hands shook as he read the final line. According to the legend, she was a siren of sorts, feeding on the very essence of those she captivated. Her name wasn't mentioned, it didn't need to be. Every instinct screamed that it was her. Marina.

Without wasting another second, Nico grabbed his phone, dialing Luke's number. He had to tell him, had to warn him--whatever Marina was, she wasn't just another girl. But the call went to voicemail, and Nico cursed under his breath. Luke was probably with her right now, deep under her spell.

As he hung up, Nico felt an icy dread settle over him. He only hoped he wasn't too late.

The tension in the locker room was nearly tangible. Practice had just ended, and the rest of the team had headed out, but Nico stayed behind, watching Luke as he packed his things, his phone glued to his hand. His face softened whenever a message from Marina popped up, an unmistakable grin on his face every time without fail.

"Nico? You need something?" Luke asked, sensing his friend's presence behind him.

"Yeah. I need to talk to you. It's... important."

Luke finally glanced up, frowning. "About what?"

"About Marina," Nico said, his voice sharper than he intended. He saw the immediate defensiveness flash in Luke's eyes and rushed to explain before he could be cut off. "Look, man, just... hear me out, okay? I've been doing some research, and there are things about her that don't make sense."

Luke's expression hardened, his grip tightening on his phone. "Seriously, Nico? You're still on about that?"

"Yes, and I'm not saying this to mess with you. I'm saying it because I care about you," Nico replied. "There's something about her that feels... wrong. I don't think she's who she says she is."

Luke shook his head, laughing bitterly. "This is ridiculous. She's not some villain, Nico."

"I know how it sounds, but just listen to me. I looked her up. Her social media, her background--none of it adds up. She's been posting the same pictures for years, looking exactly the same. She's told you things that don't make sense, like... like how she's been around for centuries, or how she's from some place that 'no one's ever seen.' Doesn't that make you wonder, even a little?"

"You're really going to dig into her past? Based on... what, a feeling?"

"It's not just a feeling!" Nico snapped, frustration boiling over. "I think she's dangerous, Luke. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and it's not normal. You're not acting like yourself anymore. You're late to practice, you're distracted, always with your phone in your hand like you're waiting for her next command. You don't even see it!"

"This is insane, Nico! You don't know her like I do. You've never felt this way about someone, have you? You don't know what it's like."

"Maybe not, but I do know what it's like to care about my friends and want to keep them safe. I don't want you getting hurt, Luke."

"I'm not getting hurt! I'm... happy. She makes me happy, and for some reason, you can't stand that," Luke shot back, his voice trembling with anger. "Ever since I met her, you've been trying to find something wrong with her. You're just... you're jealous, or you're mad that I finally found someone I actually care about."

"Jealous? I'm trying to help you, Luke! Do you hear yourself? You're so deep under her spell that you can't even see what she's doing to you. You've barely been yourself since she came into your life."

"Maybe that's what you don't get," Luke replied, tone cold. "Maybe I'm finally being who I'm supposed to be, and she's the only one who understands that."

Nico stared at him, almost at a loss. He could see the intensity in Luke's eyes, an intensity that didn't feel... real. It felt like someone else was looking back at him, not Luke. He had no idea how much of Luke was even left, how much of him was already lost to Marina.

"Luke," Nico said softly, taking a step closer, "you don't even sound like yourself. You've only known her for a few weeks, but you're acting like you'd give up everything just to be with her. Doesn't that scare you?"

"No. It doesn't scare me. What scares me is you, Nico. You don't get it. You're so desperate to find some fault in her that you're willing to throw me under the bus." His voice grew louder, angrier. "Maybe I'm finally moving on from all of this, and you just can't handle it."

"Luke, think about it. Every time you're with her, it's like you're... drained. You're losing yourself."

"I don't have to stand here and listen to this," Luke spat, turning and grabbing his bag.

"Luke, come on--" Nico's voice cracked. "If you walk out of here, you're letting her control you. Can't you see that?"

But Luke didn't turn around. "What I can see is that my best friend can't let me be happy. Maybe you should look at yourself, Nico. Maybe you're the one who's lost."

Marina had led Luke to another place he'd never been--a small, secluded cabin tucked away on the outskirts of the city. The silence around them felt heavy.

Luke didn't ask how she'd found the place, and she didn't explain. Instead, she just smiled, her hand trailing down his arm. "Do you trust me, Luke?"

"Of course."

"Good. Because I have so much more to show you. But to see it... you have to trust me completely. Can you do that?"

Luke nodded. He was ready to follow her anywhere.

Nico's eyes burned from hours spent staring at his latop. He'd used the information from his previous search to find even more out about Marina. But every new lead, every story he uncovered, pointed to something far more sinister.

He stumbled across another thread of legends, all about a mysterious girl who had been seen in cities across the country, always the same striking beauty, always connected to young men who became infatuated with her. Some people claimed to have seen her over the course of decades, some even over centuries. But the worst part? Just like the post he'd found before, all these stories ended the same. The men either disappeared without a trace or were left broken, mere shadows of themselves, haunted by her memory.

One story in particular caught his attention: it was a newspaper clipping from a small town across the state. A local athlete, promising and ambitious, had vanished after meeting a girl who fit Marina's exact description. Friends said he had acted strangely, obsessed with her, and when he disppeared, they'd found no evidence of foul play. The town had written it off as a tragedy, but a few people had claimed there was more to it--that the girl was not human.

His instincts had been right, but this truth was more horrifying than he'd anticipated.

Every cell in his body screamed at him to warn his friend, to get him out of Marina's reach. Would Luke even listen? After their last fight, Luke had made it clear he didn't want Nico's "help."

Still, Nico knew he couldn't give up. He had to try.

Across town, Luke was with Marina in her small, dimly lit apartment. The room was filled with things he couldn't quite place--strange, intricate trinkets on the shelves, books with covers that looked centuries old. Everything about her was extraordinary.

"There's something I need to tell you," she murmured.

"Anything."

Marina sighed, looking away from him. "It's about your friend, Nico. He... he doesn't understand what we have, Luke."

Luke frowned, irritation flaring inside him. "What do you mean?"

"Nico's been... watching me, hasn't he? Digging into my past, trying to... find something wrong with me."

"Yeah, he has," he admitted. "But he's just protective. He doesn't know you like I do."

Marina's hand brushed his cheek, her touch warm and soothing. "It's more than that, Luke," she whispered. "Nico's afraid of what he doesn't understand. People always are." Her voice was soft, almost sad. "But he's not just afraid. He wants to keep you away from me. He wants to ruin what we have."

Luke felt a surge of anger at the thought. The way she said it made Nico's actions seem cruel, possessive. He hadn't thought about it that way, but hearing her say it--it made sense. Nico had been relentless, unwilling to let him find happiness with Marina. And for what? Because he didn't like her?

"I think... maybe he wants you just to focus on hockey and your friendship. Or maybe he's jealous that you've found someone who understands you."

Luke's brow knitted together, a part of him resisting, not wanting to believe it. But Marina's voice, her touch--they wrapped around him, making it feel real, as if Nico's actions were all part of some deeper betrayal. "Nico would never..."

Her gaze softened, but there was still something sharp and calculating in her eyes. "Sometimes, the people closest to us don't want to see us happy, Luke. They want us to stay close to them, just so they can feel safe. He doesn't understand what we have, and he doesn't want to."

He'd trusted Nico for years, and to think that his friend would stand in the way of his happiness, just because he didn't like Marina...

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "I don't care what Nico thinks," he said firmly. "I'm not letting him ruin this for us. I'm staying with you."

"I knew you would," she rested her head against his chest. "But you need to be careful, Luke. People will say things about me, try to turn you against me. They don't understand what we have... but that doesn't matter, does it?"

"No. It doesn't matter at all."

Nico tried calling Luke again, his heart pounding with every unanswered ring. But he got nothing--only Luke's voicemail, each message left sounding more desperate than the last. Frustration boiled in him and he decided he could't just sit there. He needed to find Luke, even if it meant going to Marina's place and dragging him out himself.

As he left, he thought over everything he'd learned about Marina, every detail of the stories he'd read. She was a predator, a siren of sorts, he didn't know for sure. But the pattern was always the same: men who fell under her spell, only to be broken or lost, victims of her influence.

Marina had lulled Luke into a sense of calm, making him feel safe and wanted, not registering the buzzing of his phone as another call from Nico came through.

"You're sure about this Luke? You're sure you want to be with me, no matter what?"

"Of course."

"Then let go of your doubts. Let me show you what we can have together--what life can be like when there's no one holding us back."

Marina leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "You'll never need anyone else, Luke. Not as long as you have me."

The street outside Marina's apartment was eerily quiet. Nico parked his car and stared up at the dark windows, his hands clammy and heart racing. Every instinct screamed for him to turn back, but he shoved his fear aside. This was his last chance to save Luke.

He made his way to the door and knocked, his fist clenched. When Marina opened it, she seemed unsurprised, her expression calm and almost amused.

"Nico," she greeted, her voice low and mocking. "What a surprise."

He didn't waste time on pleasantries. "I need to talk to you. Now."

She smirked, stepping aside with a graceful wave of her hand. "By all means. Come in."

Marina watched him enter, her eyes predatory. "So, what brings you here? Come to tell me how much you hate me? Or perhaps... beg me to let Luke go?"

Nico's jaw tightened. "This isn't a game, Marina. I know what you are. I know what you're doing to him."

She tilted her head, smile widening. "And what exactly am I doing to him, Nico?"

"You're destroying him. I don't know how or why, but you've got him under some kind of spell, and I'm here to end it."

Marina laughed, the sound filling the room with a dark, melodic energy. "Oh, Nico," she purred. "I'm not forcing Luke to do anything. He's with me because he wants to be. Because I understand him in ways you never could."

"That's not true!" Nico retorted. "You're manipulating him, feeding on his weaknesses. He's losing himself because of you. He's not the Luke I know."

She took a step closer to him, smile fading, and for the first time, her calm façade slipped. A flash of something dark, something ancient, crossed her face--a flicker of supernatural beauty that made her features seem sharper, more otherworldly. Her eyes glowed faintly, like embers hidden in the dark.

"I don't know who you are," he said, his voice unsteady, "but you're not going to have him. You're done with him. Let him go."

She arched a brow, her smile twisting into something cruel. "You think you can save him, Nico?" she asked, her voice laced with venom. "You think you have what it takes to pull him away from me? He's mine now."

"No. He's my friend. And I'll do whatever it takes to bring him back."

At that moment, the door behind them opened, and Nico turned to see Luke standing there with a bag of food in hand, his expression conflicted.

"Luke," Nico took a step toward him. "You have to listen to me. She's not who you think she is."

"Why are you here, Nico?" his voice carried a hint of accusation.

"Because I care about you, and I know what she's doing to you," Nico's words were rushed. "She's not just some girl, Luke. She's... she's something else. Like a siren. She's using you."

Marina moved to stand beside Luke, slipping her arm around him. Her touch seemed to calm him, his tense expression softening.

"Luke. You don't have to listen to him. He doesn't understand us, what we have together."

His defences slipped as he gazed down at her, and Nico's heart sank. It was like Marina's hold on him was too strong, she'd wrapped him in a web he couldn't break free from.

But Nico wasn't giving up. In a last, desperate attempt, he pulled out his phone, opening a recording he'd taken from his research--a clip from an interview with a historian who'd studied local legends, including the strange, eerie sightings of Marina over the decades.

"Luke. Listen to this."

Luke glanced down at the screen, but Marina's expression shifted. A flicker of something like fear crossed her face, but she quickly masked it.

The recording played, the historian's voice low and serious. "Throughout the years, there have been sightings of a woman described as hauntingly beautiful, appearing near young men who later exhibited strange behaviour--infatuation, detachment from their families, and in some cases, even disappearance. She's known by different names, but the pattern is always the same. She entrances her victims, drawing them away, leaving nothing but traces of a faded life."

The words sank in slowly, Luke's face twisting. But he glanced at Marina, who was looking up at him, eyes wide and pleading.

"Luke, it's... not what you think," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't listen to him. He's trying to tear us apart."

Luke looked at her, his hand shaking slightly. "Marina... is it true?" His voice was barely a whisper.

The softness in her gaze vanished, replaced by a cold, dark expression. Her eyes flashed with that unnatural gleam again, her voice dropping low. "I told you, Luke. I warned you that others wouldn't understand us."

Luke's breath hitched, and for the first time, he looked truly afraid. "Marina... what are you?"

"I am what I am, Luke. And I never lied to you about that."

Shock and betrayal crossed Luke's face, the spell around him cracking just enough for doubt to creep in.

"Luke," Nico said quietly, "remember the first time you told me about her? You said she seemed too perfect, too good to be real. You knew something was wrong, even then. Don't let her control you."

Luke looked between Nico and Marina, his mind racing, trying to reconcile the dream he'd been living with the nightmare it'd become.

Marina reached for him, her hand hovering near him his face. "Don't listen to him, Luke. I can show you things you've never dreamed of. I can give you everything."

But Luke stood a step back. "No... no, I can't..." He shook his head, looking at her with dawning horror. "I can't stay with you."

"Very well," her voice dripped with disdain. "But remember, Luke--you came to me. You wanted this."

With a final glance, she disappeared into the shadows, her form dissolving like mist, leaving a chilling silence in her wake.

Nico steadied Luke as he swayed, his face pale. "You okay?"

"I... I don't know what I was thinking. It's like I was in a fog."

"You're safe now," Nico assured him. "She's gone."

But as they left, Luke cast one last glance over his shoulder, wondering if Marina was truly gone--or if she was just waiting for another chance to lure him back.

Luke sat alone in the quiet of the rink. He took a shaky breath, feeling like he'd just woken up from a long, twisted dream. His mind replayed the last few weeks--how he'd fallen for her so fast, how she'd made him feel like no one else existed. Now that the spell was broken, the memories felt blurry, unreal, like a fever dream.

He barely remembered leaving her apartment. Nico had driven him home, guiding him to bed like a ghost, his mind empty and aching. He was grateful for Nico, though he hadn't been able to say much but a quiet "thank you." How could he explain what happened to anyone?

The sound of footsteps jolted him to the present, and he looked up to see Jack, Nico, and a few of the others guys looking concerned.

"Hey, man," Jack said softly, sitting beside him. "You, uh... you doing okay?"

Luke nodded slowly, though he wasn't sure he believed it himself. "I... yeah. I think so." He managed a weak smile. "Feels like I've been gone for a while, huh?"

Jack chuckled, though his voice was strained. "Just a bit. Had us worried."

"You're back now. That's what matters," Nico addded.

Jack turned to their captain, a sheepish look on his face. "Hey, man... I guess I owe you an apology." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely embarrassed. "I thought you were just being overprotective. But you... you knew something was off."

Nico shrugged. "You were just looking for him. We both were."

The other guys gathered around, patting Luke's shoulders, offering words of encouragement. For the first time in days, Luke felt grounded, his friends' helping to anchor him. But the haunting memories of Marina still lingered.

As they talked, Luke glanced around the rink, half expecting to see her standing in the shadows, watching him with that dark, knowing smile. He shook his head, reminding himself that she was gone. She had to be gone.

Jack’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Luke.”

He forced a laugh, shrugging it off. “Maybe I have."

It took days for Luke to even slightly feel like himself again. Every night he dreamed of her. He would wake up drenched in sweat, the memories leaving him shaken, unable to stop feeling like she was still there somehow.

One evening, after practice, he walked alone through the streets, trying to clear his mind. He passed a bustling café, the windows lit warmly against the growing darkness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of dark hair, a glimpse of a figure that made his heart stop. He turned quickly, his eyes searching the faces inside.

There--by the window, staring right at him--was Marina. She was as beautiful as ever, smiling at him. But when he blinked, she was gone, leaving only an empty seat where she'd once been. A cold sweat broke out over his skin. He backed away, she was still watching him, somehow... some way.

He walked away quickly, when he heard something. A whisper that was barely there. Barely audible.

I'm never far, Luke.

But there was no one. Only the empty street.

With a shiver, he continued, refusing to let himself dwell on the feeling that she might always be lurking, somewhere just beyond his reach.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes

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zolass · 7 hours ago

Text

ㅤㅤ𝗧𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘀

ㅤ···─TEACHING MANNERS with AJAX ILLAD

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCharacter by @yanderefarm

Summary: A lot of parents complained to you, about the way a certain Illad, dresses to pick up his youngest brother. So there seems to be no way around, but try to.. talk some sense into the other male. wc: 1.8k

tags: smut, top m reader, bttm ajax, semi-public, +

Note: This idea is mostly from this little thing, I had the 'au' already written down and thanks to the dear owner of the character, I now have an idea on how to write this a bit better.

Still there's probably a high chance it sucks, but oh well I hope you guys enjoy <3

Never did Ajax think this would work. The first day he laid his eyes on you, he was smitten away, how can he not? You always made his younger brother ramble about how nice and cool you are, how you were his and others favorite teacher.

Of course it is something that Ajax also noticed, at the beginning where he picked up his younger brother, you smiled at him and the way you held small talk with him, made his heart beat quicken.

Something about you was just simply so charming to him.

At first he wasn’t really happy, having to go back to school, even though he loved his youngest brother, he definitely would let someone else pick him up. But since he saw you, he couldn’t help but to simply pick his brother up with the driver. Over time he started to dress more– risky.

From tailored suits, to cropped shirts that showed his abs, and low sitting pants showing his v line dipping into his pants. But there were people coming up to you, to complain about a certain male, about the way he started to dress, seeing it as improper.

Mostly though it was women with.. Other stuff in mind thinking they could get something from you, maybe a phone number, to ‘complain’. Yet the number of Ajax was never even in the information, only the numbers of the parents.

But you still had to talk to the other, as you put all of your papers together and waved the kids goodbye. It was finally the weekend right in front of you. Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door, and as you looked over you saw Ajax. His shirt was cropped, like the last few times. But this time his slacks were rather nice fitting dress pants.

“My brother told me, you wanted to speak to me?” Ajax said, before he casually walked over to your desk, leaned against it. Your eyes were trained on him, as you gave him a small smile, “Yes.. there have been a few.. Complaints about the way you come to school, to pick your brother up, Mr Illad,” you told him, while you put the papers in a folder. Ajax’s eyes were glued to your figure, as a small smirk played on his lips, “Calling me Mr. Illad seems rather strange no? I mean we are both rather close age wise– call me Ajax,” he said.

Surprised you looked at the other, before closing the folder and putting it into your bag. “I’m sorry Mr–” there was a slight squint of Ajax eyes,”Ajax, but I only asked you to come here because of the..” you trailed off as you noticed Ajax leaning closer to you, “What can I call you? I don’t mind calling you mine,” Ajax winked at you.

Your mouth dropped open in surprise, “I– ehh M/n– but that’s not the importance–” you were interrupted, “Nice to finally know your name, handsome,” Ajax said. He took another step closer, “You look really, and I mean really good in these clothes,” Ajax eyes were basically like two pools of lust.

Ajax was attractive, you couldn’t deny that. So when he leaned closer, you couldn't help but pull him closer until you captured his lips with your own. The kiss was led by desire but had the passionate edge to it. Your hands were firmly on his rather slutty waist, kneading the soft flesh with your hands.

The kiss went on for a while, before you pulled back. Both of your lips were swollen red, “Let me close the door,” you breathed out before quickly walking over and closing the door. Your hand pushed your hair slightly back, the tent in your slacks was rather obvious what’s coming next.

As you walked back to Ajax, you couldn’t help it but let your eyes wander over his body. Swallowing hard you couldn’t help but to fuck that teasing smirk off his lips, you sat down on your chair with your legs spread enough for a person between them. You teasingly tapped your hand on your thigh, “Why don’t you get to work, Ajax– maybe I can teach you some manners.”

He couldn’t help but stare at your bulge, before he nodded and quickly kneeled between your thighs. Licking his lips, Ajax started to rub his thumb over your cock, while he opened your pants with the other one as best as he could. But as he struggled you helped get your pants off with a chuckle, “You soon learn how to do it,” you said.

Ajax’s cheeks were tinted pink at your words, but the way his own hard dick strained against his tight dress pants. Pulling your underwear down, Ajax couldn’t help the small gasp escaping his lips, as he watched with slightly widened eyes how your cock sprang free. Your girth was definitely nice, but what was catching his eyes more was your length that basically balanced your girth out.

Not wasting anymore time he can have with you, Ajax quickly got to work. His lips wrapped around your tip, as he glanced up at you through his lashes after a small groan leaving your throat. You noticed him looking at you, you placed your hand on his head, but not pushing him down. He pushed his head down, getting more of your cock into his mouth, god you were basically the perfect match for him and definitely his mouth.

Hopefully you were even better for his ass.

Ajax licked over the veins, making you groan a bit louder. He bobbed his head, happy that he finally reached half his goal. Suddenly you pushed his head down, until his nose was pressed against your groin and your entire length was buried deep into his throat. A moan rippled through Ajax’s throat as his eyes rolled back, yet he quickly knew what you wanted so he quickly got back to sucking you off, while you slightly thrusted up into his warm and wet mouth.

He couldn’t help it but just wanting you to fuck him, so he picked up the pace, hoping for you to cum right down his throat. Ajax could feel the way your dick twitched in his throat, and your hands grabbing onto his hair only to push his head down, he couldn’t help but moan as your cum spurted down his throat.

Slowly he pulled his head back, not without licking over the veins on your cock. A small groan left you, as your tip popped out and Ajax gave it a teasing kiss. You let out a sigh, as you watched Ajax stand up. His own bulge is obvious now to you as well.

You watched as Ajax turned around and swayed his hips from side to side. Biting your lip, as you stood up you were right behind him, your hands were placed on his waist, as Ajax grinded his clothed ass against your exposed cock. With a swift movement, you pushed the other's chest down onto the desk, showing two perfect round cheeks in front of you.

Making quick process, you quickly opened up the buttons to Ajax’s pants before pulling them down enough for them and his underwear to fall and pool around his ankles themselve. You held your cock in your hand, as you teased his hole with the tip, doing slow circles, smearing your precum around it. Whines left Ajax as he pushed his hips back, hoping for you to finally thrust into him.

“Please~ just fuck me already,” Ajax begged you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Someone seems eager,” you teased as your eyes were focused on his expression that was turned to you.

Biting your lip you couldn’t help but smack Ajax round ass, letting a moan break free from his throat. Ajax hated but loved the way you treated him, his dick leaking precum on the floor, “Please just put it in– I’m already prepped, just, fuck me,” he begged you again. You watched him for a little longer until you pushed your tip in, a groan left you while a loud moan left Ajax.

You placed both hands on his hips, before you slammed your entire length into Ajax’s hole making a scream escape his mouth, as his eyes rolled back. The heat of your dick and the twitching made butterflies erupt in his stomach, where a small bulge formed. As you thrusted roughly into Ajax, you leaned down on his back.

Placing a kiss on his shoulder,”Taking me so well, baby,” you groaned into his ear. His hole tightened at your words, making you curse out a whispered fuck, before you picked up the pace. The sound of your skin hitting his turned both of you on even more.

Your hands were gripping Ajax’s waist, as your thrusts grew sloppy. Ajax felt the abuse on his prostate turn rather sloppy, so he knew you were about to cum. He couldn’t help himself but moan at the thought of you pumping your cum into him, “cum in me– ngh fuc– ple-see–” Ajax begged through the moans. The to well known feeling built up in his groin, “cum-ing,” Ajax moaned out, before his eyes rolled back as he came. His big useless cock dirtying the desk with his cum, as he felt your tip push against his prostate one more time before a moan rippled from your throat.

With one last rough thrust you pushed your entire length into Ajax as you came, the belly bulge getting bigger while Ajax caressed the spot with a sigh and imaginary hearts in his eyes.

You basically stuck to Ajax even as your cock went soft inside of Ajax, but you couldn’t help but hold him in your arms. You kissed his shoulder, as you still held onto his hips. “You did well, pretty boy,” you said, slightly out of breath.

Ajax chuckled as a blush formed on his cheeks, “Thanks– you did fuck me pretty good too–” Ajax said, awkwardly even though he meant it. You did fuck him really well, his fingers trailed around the bulge, biting his lip Ajax couldn’t help but look back at you.

“Can I take you out on a date?” he suddenly asked you, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Sure– I mean yea-” you leaned your head against his neck. “You should wear suits more often– I still remember the times you had it on– you look really good with them,” you suddenly said.

Ajax seemed surprised at that, “Thank you,” there was another silence. “Do you think I’m pregnant with your kids?” Ajax suddenly spewed out, and you couldn’t help but look dumbfounded at him before you chuckled, “Ajax, I don’t think that’s how it works,” you said and a pout formed on his lips, “Sadly, but a man can have dreams–” he retorted.

You couldn’t help but simply kiss his cheek, “Then when is the date?” you ask him. “How about we start– after we make it out of here– and we do another round in my car, how about that?” Ajax asked, with a teasing look over his shoulder. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, “sure.”

#zolass writes #zolass fanwriting #mlm #male reader #male x male #x male reader #smut #top male reader #writer #gay #oc x male reader #dom male reader #sub yandere #sub character #writing for yanderefarm oc's yay TvT

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goblinontour · 2 days ago

Text

Sting

he can’t always be the man

warnings: sub!alex, smut, anal fingering (m receiving), handjob, piv, overstimulation, subspace, crying, two slaps

word count: 6.5k

He’d watched you slide out of the taxi first, caught the way you shifted your weight as you stood. It was then that he saw it: the faint, almost imperceptible tear at the side of your left thigh, just above your knee. You hadn’t noticed. He could tell that by the easy way you moved, so blissfully unaware of that tiny betrayal of fabric. But he noticed. And all night, that threadbare little mark was all he could look at, all he could think about, as you both moved through the evening like actors on an unwritten stage.

It was funny, really — the way something so small could hold such power over him. That barely-there hole in your tights became a quiet obsession in that small amount of time, a tug at the edge of his mind every time his gaze wandered in your direction. There were moments when his attention should have been elsewhere, on the faces you both half-smiled at, the clinking glasses, the fractured conversations weaving around you both. But he’d find himself drawn back to that tear, imagining his fingertips grazing over the rough edge, feeling the vulnerability of the fabric giving way to your skin beneath it.

Now, the two of you sat side by side in the back seat of another taxi, heading home, silent and suspended in the soft yellow glow of passing streetlights. You were close enough that he could smell the faint trace of your perfume — something sweet and lingering, fading as the night wore on. He thought about reaching over, his hand brushing just above your knee, where that rip teased him from beneath the hem of your coat. Maybe if he let his hand rest there for a moment, his fingers could wander to that tiny flaw, catching on the nylon and teasing it wider. But there was still time on the clock, a stretch of ten more minutes that felt impossibly long with the weight of that simple, forbidden urge pressing at him.

He almost laughed at himself. All this over a barely-there tear in your tights, a glimpse of skin. But it was more than that. It was what it suggested — a chance to touch something you didn’t even know he was looking at, to reach into that intimate, secret place where you’d let something small and imperfect slip through the cracks. It was everything unspoken between you, condensed into a stray thread he couldn’t bring himself to ignore.

The traffic slowed, the taxi lurching to a soft halt at a red light. He thought about reaching over, again. Just for a second, just to feel the roughened edge beneath his fingertips, to let his touch travel that forbidden path. But he didn’t. Not yet.

The leather seat beneath you groaned as he shifted closer, and he settled his head on your shoulder, pressing his cheek into you with a softness that felt almost vulnerable. Usually, it was your head that found its way to his shoulder — your quiet way of grounding him when words felt thin and hollow. But now it was him, nestling into you, like he wanted to bury himself in the warmth of your skin and hide there for a little while, away from everything that wasn’t the two of you in this dark, intimate slice of the night.

The driver might as well have been invisible, a shadow behind the wheel, guiding you both through empty streets that blurred under the passing streetlights. He didn’t matter. None of it did. There was only the warmth between you, the quiet hum of the engine, and the sound of his breath shifting against your coat.

“You okay, baby?” you asked, tilting your head to look down at him, breaking the silence as your fingers grazed his cheek. His leather jacket made a soft, almost comical squeak as he adjusted his weight, a reminder of how close he was, how each tiny movement stirred up a new layer of something between you.

“Huh?” He looked up, eyes a little dazed, as if pulled from some hidden place you couldn’t quite see. “I think so, yeah…yeah.”

You brushed your knuckles softly over his cheek, tracing the edge of his jaw in a way that made his eyes close, just briefly. “You sure? You seem off.” You kept your voice low, gentle.

He nestled in closer, his breath fanning against your neck, hot and unsteady. You felt the faint prickle of his gelled hair against your skin, an imperfect contrast to the softness of his breathing. And God, you’d love to feel it beneath your fingers, feel that wildness just barely tamed, slipping through your hands. If he’d only let you.

“Mhm…just-” He let his words fall off as he shifted, letting his thigh rest over yours, claiming this one small corner of you like it was the only thing anchoring him. It was the only other touch he’d allow himself for now, each beat of restraint coiling tighter within him. Waiting for you, maybe, to make it easier, to let him know it was okay to want more, to ask for more.

His hand was warm against your thigh, barely touching, and yet the weight of it — of him, folded into you like this — felt heavy with meaning. There was a certain unspoken desperation in that one small touch, like he’d already mapped out a hundred ways he wanted to hold you tonight, but for now, he was letting himself settle for this.

“Need ya tonight…” he murmured, his voice rough and frayed around the edges, as if he’d given up trying to hold back that lingering ache.

“We’re almost home, baby.” you replied, reassuring, your hand squeezing his thigh just enough to send a shiver through him. You felt him flinch beneath your touch, as though the gentle pressure was too much, too close to that quiet place he hadn’t let himself fully feel until now.

“No, I mean-” he stammered, pulling back just slightly, his eyes searching yours, almost asking you to see through him, past whatever words he couldn’t quite put together.

“I know.” You met his gaze, a knowing softness threading through your voice, and he felt it — felt the quiet promise there, the warmth and understanding that made the rest of the world fall away.

The rest of the ride had blurred by, or maybe he’d just let it blur. Everything outside the taxi faded into smears of city lights and shadows, indistinct and irrelevant. All he knew was the steady heat of your body next to him, the quiet ache of waiting. He’d given in, let himself go bare before you, peeled down to something raw and vulnerable. And now, with nothing else to hold onto, his mind was flooded, full to bursting and yet strangely still. Full of everything and nothing at all, because deep down he knew you’d take him somewhere he couldn’t get to alone. It had already begun.

The bedroom felt thick with anticipation, a quiet heat hanging in the air as he lay back, watching you in the dim light, his eyes drinking in every detail. His jacket lay discarded somewhere near the door, his shirt forgotten as his gaze followed you, taking in the languid way you undressed, unhurried, as if savouring every slow step you took. He swallowed hard, his fingers digging slightly into the sheets at his sides. His skin was already warm from the friction of the night, but there were places on the bed that still felt cold, sharp against his exposed skin, leaving him caught somewhere between comfort and a need that he could barely keep in check.

You stood at the foot of the bed, one hand on your hip, and he noticed again the tear in your tights. His mind buzzed, catching his eye all over again, making his fingers itch with the thought of tracing it. He imagined running his hand along that faint thread, felt the desire to pull it just a bit, to tease it further, to see the fabric stretch and fray. But his thoughts were cut off when he heard his own voice, unexpectedly soft, yet steady.

“Keep your tights on.” he murmured, his voice carrying a dark edge, almost a plea wrapped in a command. The words slipped out before he even had time to think them over, but once he said them, he felt their weight settle over both of you. He saw the way your lips curved slightly in response, a faint glint of mischief sparking in your eyes. His pulse quickened. Saying it aloud made it real, solid, something that could no longer stay confined to his imagination.

You looked at him, holding his gaze for a moment, reading into everything that lay beneath his words, and then you simply nodded, accepting his request with a calm that sent a shiver through him. In that moment, he felt completely exposed, as though with just those four words, he had laid himself bare before you, more than when he’d let himself lay naked on the bed, letting you see the hidden edges of his want.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra with a smooth motion, letting it fall from your shoulders, the last piece of you — save for those tights — slipping away. He watched, transfixed, feeling a rush of warmth flood his chest. Every movement you made felt deliberate, a kind of unspoken answer to his request, and it only deepened his sense of surrender.

“Don’t speak, okay?” you said, your voice calm but firm, a hint of authority cutting through the intimacy, leaving no room for protest. He caught the way you looked at him, a subtle edge to your gaze, like you were testing his ability to give in completely, to hand over control and let you guide him through this fragile, electric space between you.

He swallowed, his throat dry, and managed a small nod. “Understood.” he whispered, though he could barely hold onto his composure, his voice rough and unsteady, quiet but obedient, already thinning as he let himself submit. He watched you carefully as you climbed onto the bed, your knees pressing into the mattress, your fingers curling over the edge of the bottle of lubricant you’d set down beside him. So close, mere inches from his hand, a silent promise lying between the two of you, but it almost felt like a threat. You hadn’t moved closer, hadn’t yet reached for him, and he felt the tension coil tightly within him, a reminder that he was yours to shape, to hold, to let unravel at your pace.

“Keep your legs down.” you instructed. He felt the weight of the request, the way each word hung over him, and he shifted slightly, pressing his legs into the bed, though every instinct in him wanted to reach out, to pull you closer. The fabric was still warm beneath him, but the cool spots pressed into his skin in sharp contrast, heightening every sensation. He had to fight the urge to reach for you, to pull you down into him, but he resisted, holding himself still, waiting for your touch, for the weight of you to pin him down and erase whatever small amount of control he still had left.

When you settled over him, pressing his thighs down into the bed, a soft sound slipped from him, a breathless half-whimper, caught somewhere between complaint and surrender, involuntary, as your weight pinned his thighs to the bed. He hadn’t realised just how much he wanted that feeling, the quiet restraint of your presence holding him down, in a way he hadn’t felt before. His body was taut beneath you, every nerve alight, the warmth of you so close yet just out of reach, and he couldn’t suppress a breathless murmur. “The bed is cold.” he whispered, an apology almost hidden in his tone.

But you were quick to answer, your gaze sharp and knowing as you pressed your hands firmly against his chest, each palm splayed across the skin of each pec, feeling the way his chest rose and fell under your touch. “What did I say?” you replied, a soft warning lacing your tone, and he felt a flicker of heat shoot through him at the way you held him there.

“Sorry.” he mumbled, his voice barely audible, his lips already pressing tightly shut in response, knowing he’d stepped over some invisible line. He could feel the heat of his own breath on his lips, his heartbeat loud in his ears as he forced himself back into silence. But the apology lingered in the air between you, and he couldn’t help the faint flush that coloured his cheeks as you watched him, studying the way he fought to hold himself back, tinged with exhaustion, and you could see the way he waited, his mouth tense, like he needed to keep himself from asking for something, even now.

You let out a quiet, disapproving tsk, lifting a single finger and pressing it softly to his lips, letting him feel that faint touch — a gentle warning, a reminder. He fell still beneath your touch, exhaling slowly, and he could feel his entire body reacting to that simple, delicate contact. His eyes held yours, and he let himself sink into the warmth of your approval as you murmured, “Good.”

He could feel himself giving in more fully, the restlessness of the evening settling into something deeper, more focused. His lips stayed pressed together, His lips stayed pressed together, and his eyes, though tired, held onto that flicker of trust, of surrender. You leaned in close, the heat of your breath soft against his skin, your voice dropping into that low, intimate tone that made his pulse race all over again.

“Now touch yourself.” you said, each word quiet and unwavering, but carrying a weight that sent a thrill straight through him. He looked at you, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands, and felt the final threads of his restraint slipping.

And with a steadying breath, he obeyed. His hand moved instinctively, reaching for his cock, the heat in him unfurling, restless, urgent. But before he could even make contact, your hand closed around his wrist. He froze, the moment breaking into fragments as he looked up at you, confusion flashing in his eyes.

“What?” he breathed, his voice sharp with impatience, edged with a faint sting of frustration. His mind, so caught in the hazy tension between surrender and need, barely registered what was happening. He was desperate to move, to feel, to give in fully, and the sudden stop had sent a jolt of longing through him, an ache that was both maddening and addictive.

Your response was wordless at first – a swift, deliberate slap across his cheek, the sting blossoming hot and fast against his skin, leaving him momentarily stunned. He felt the air catch in his throat, almost choking on the breath he’d tried to suck in too quickly, his mouth slightly open in surprise. His pulse quickened, the heat pooling deep in his chest, radiating out to his limbs. It wasn’t the pain that surprised him – though he felt it, sharp and electric – it was the calm, steady look in your eyes, a gaze that stripped him down to nothing, made him feel seen in a way that left him dizzy.

And then you leaned in, one hand reaching to gently wipe the single tear that had slipped from his eye. “You look so pretty…” you murmured, and the words hit him with a force he hadn’t expected, a quiet, undeniable warmth that settled over the sharpness. It was a contrast that left him feeling light-headed, the sting on his cheek mingling with your praise, an impossible mix of tenderness and control that tightened his chest, made him ache for you even more.

He took a shaky breath, meeting your gaze, and in that moment, he understood, saw the glint of something unspoken in your eyes. He let out a small, almost bashful laugh, a release of the tension that had built up within him, as he reached for the bottle of lube resting on the bed. Right, he thought, feeling the subtle shift of power between you, letting it wash over him as he squeezed the bottle onto his fingers.

But as he spread the cool gel over his skin, he realised the texture wasn’t quite right – it wasn’t the one he preferred, the one you both knew he’d reach for given the choice. His brows furrowed slightly as he wondered, Did you do it on purpose? He could feel the subtle difference in each movement, the way it created a faint resistance against his fingers, like another layer of your control, present even in this small, unspoken choice.

You shifted back onto your heels, giving him the space to continue, your presence like a shadow hovering just at the edge of his awareness, watching, waiting. He took a slow, steadying breath, positioning himself as he reached down, his hand gliding lower until his fingertips dipped between his legs, cool and slick. His body responded instantly, the anticipation rippling through him as he traced small circles, rubbing, spreading it across his skin in a way that made every nerve hum with awareness.

One knee twitched, almost lifting from the bed, but he fought to keep it down, his breaths coming faster now, deeper, as he gave in to the sensations building within him. It felt like he was teetering on the edge of something delicate, something suspended between pleasure and surrender, and he could feel the quiet weight of your gaze as he moaned softly, his voice breaking the silence, a breathy sound filled with longing.

And then, finally, he let his middle finger slip inside, his breath catching at the sudden fullness, the way his body instinctively responded to the touch. “Fuck…” he whispered, the word spilling out almost involuntarily, a soft, desperate sound as he let himself sink deeper into the moment. The pleasure bloomed through him, raw and overwhelming, as he pressed his eyes shut, letting everything fall away except for the sensation, the quiet, intimate presence of you, watching, guiding him in silence.

“Come on, baby, one more.” Your voice was gentle but insistent, a quiet encouragement that washed over him. His eyes opened briefly, his chest rising and falling with the effort as he added another finger, feeling the stretch and burn as he tried to reach deeper, to push himself further, if only for you.

But he couldn’t quite get there – not in the way he craved, not enough to reach the spots that would undo him completely. He realised then, with a flicker of heat low in his belly, that this wasn’t really about his pleasure. It was yours, a kind of performance, one that left him raw and vulnerable under your gaze. And he was okay with that. More than okay – he was desperate to see the way your eyes would darken, the way your lips would part as you watched him lose himself for you. So he kept going, eyes closed, face taut with concentration as he slowly pumped his fingers into himself, taking on the strain, the surrender.

He hadn’t noticed you move closer, so when he felt the wet warmth of your tongue press against the back of his hand, the sensation jarred him, made him shudder. His fingers slipped from their rhythm, and without a thought, he brought his hand up to your mouth, his breath catching as you took them between your lips, your mouth soft and hot around him. It was instinctive, his need for you overtaking any hesitation. He knew you felt his taste, mingled with the faint salt of the lube, as you drew his fingers in deeper, letting your lips seal around his knuckles. He was helpless, caught in the way you took him, slow and deliberate, like each movement was meant to break him down.

His breath hitched, his lips parting in a silent gasp as he watched you, every nerve in his body focused on the feel of your tongue tracing along his skin, running over each line and ridge of his fingers. He felt like he was floating, like he was slipping somewhere beyond himself, his awareness narrowing down to nothing but the way your mouth wrapped around him, the subtle pressure of your teeth, the soft warmth that made his whole body hum. You looked up at him, your eyes holding him in place, and he let out a shuddering exhale, his mouth open, lost in you.

With a slow, torturous pull, you slid his fingers out of your mouth, leaving them wet and gleaming. He felt the air cool against his skin, the slickness of your saliva clinging to him, a reminder of how thoroughly you’d claimed even this small part of him. It was dizzying, the way you took your time, the way you’d turned his own hands into something for your pleasure. He could barely keep himself still, every muscle tense as he waited, watching, his fingers hovering between you both, uncertain but craving whatever came next.

You leaned forward, letting your breath warm his skin before your tongue traced a deliberate line from the base of his cock to the very tip, slow and unhurried. He sucked in a sharp breath, his body tensing, almost lifting off the bed with the shock of sensation. His mind was hazy, so wrapped in everything you’d done, of everything he’d offered to you, that he hadn’t realised how deep his need had grown. But now, the warmth of your mouth, the wet heat of your tongue against him – it was overwhelming.

“Please-” he whimpered, his voice breaking, betraying the raw edge of his desperation. The word slipped out before he could stop it, before he even knew what he was pleading for. He wasn’t sure if he wanted more or if he simply wanted to survive this feeling without completely losing himself.

“Shhh…” you whispered, your hand wrapping around him, squeezing with just enough force to draw a wince and a gasp, a silent reprimand. The pressure was perfect, grounding, and he felt the heat build and swirl under his skin, a pulse of sharp pleasure that bordered on pain. A thought drifted through his mind, foggy and hesitant – when had he become this willing, this eager for a touch that left him burning? Was this what it meant to be a masochist, or was it something different, something that only existed here with you?

You kept your movements precise, measured, not giving him anything too easily, each stroke and touch intentional. Your tongue traced around him, lingering, savouring, and he did everything he could to keep still, to be good, to stay quiet. Every instinct was telling him to reach for you, to move, to take what he craved – but he held himself back, feeling the delicious tension build inside him, letting it spread through his body like a current, leaving him at your mercy.

His murmured pleas faded into soft, unrestrained moans when your fingers moved to where his had been just moments before, pressing against him in a way that left him dizzy. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause, pushing inside him with a force that felt almost punishing, each movement deeper than he’d managed on his own. There was no gentleness in the way you claimed him, and he felt every inch of it, the stretch, the sting, the intensity of each thrust as you filled him completely, taking him apart piece by piece.

The roughness of your touch, the way you didn’t hold back, left him bare. Each time your fingers pulled out, he felt a faint burn, a reminder of the stretch, and he braced himself, his body growing more sensitive with each push, each thrust that felt like it reached into the very core of him. He didn’t even know if he could last. The sensations were blurring together, pulling him to the edge with every motion, every murmur and graze of your fingers.

He bit down on his lip, the pain mingling with pleasure as he tried to keep himself steady, his body shaking under your hand. But all he could focus on was you – your hand, your fingers, your mouth – and the way you consumed him, held him there, where everything felt exquisite and too much and exactly what he needed, all at once.

You leaned over him, your breath warm against his cheek, feeling the tension thrumming through his body, taut as a wire about to snap. “You close?” you asked, voice low, laced with that knowing tone that made his pulse race even harder. He didn’t answer, just let out a broken, desperate gasp, his eyes squeezed shut, hands clenched tight into the sheets as if he could keep himself from losing control.

“You gonna come on my fingers, huh?” you coaxed, leaning in closer, your words a soft demand. “Answer me.”

“Yes…so close…” he whispered, his voice strained, his body shifting restlessly beneath you, caught within the desperate need to hold on, just a bit longer, for you. He squirmed in your grip, barely able to handle the intensity, his gaze flickering open for the briefest moment, his eyes glazed with lust, with that pleading look that told you he was right on the edge.

But then you leaned back, withdrawing your fingers suddenly, and he whimpered at the loss, his body still tingling from the stretch and the way you’d left him feeling so completely undone. “I want you to fuck me.” you murmured, your voice leaving no room for question. The words alone made him shiver, his breath hitching, his body throbbing in response to your command.

You moved to straddle him, and his gaze followed every slight shift. He felt your hands slide down to guide him, positioning him exactly where you wanted him, but just as he braced himself for you to sink down, you paused, fingers reaching between your thighs.

In one quick, decisive movement, you gripped the torn edge of your tights and ripped them further, the nylon giving way under your touch with a sound so sharp and final it almost made him wince. The tear spread up your thigh, and he couldn’t help but stare, a faint ache in his chest at the sight. You’d ripped them so fast, so ruthlessly, and a part of him flinched at the cruelty of it. He wouldn’t have done it like that – he would’ve traced his fingers over that little tear, maybe kissed the skin underneath. But the way you’d just torn them open, effortlessly, almost without thought…it felt like you were unravelling him, too, pulling apart every last defence he’d tried to hold onto.

His breath was shallow as you settled over him, the rough edges of the torn tights brushing against his hips, a reminder of your deliberate destruction, your impatience to feel him without anything in the way. His face was a mixture of panic and need, his breathing ragged. “No- please-” he stammered, his voice laced with desperation. “I can’t…I’ll come…” The protest was weak, barely a whisper, and you ignored it, your hands steady, your resolve unwavering as you slowly sank down onto him.

He gasped, his hands reflexively reaching for you as he felt himself surrounded by your heat, his mind slipping further into that place where thought was lost, where all that mattered was the way your body moved against his, the way you took him in so completely, so thoroughly. His eyes were closed again, a futile attempt to control himself, to hold back from tipping over into oblivion. But you weren’t about to let him get away with that.

“Watch.” you ordered, your voice cutting through his haze. “Watch your cock fill me up.”

He opened his eyes, his gaze falling to where your bodies met, to the sight of you taking him in, inch by agonising inch, your body settling over him. He watched, helpless to stop the flood of sensation that swept over him. And the moment your hips stilled, pressing down to take him fully, he could feel the tension break within him, his body jerking beneath you as he lost control.

He shuddered, his hands clutching your waist as he felt himself pulse, the pleasure crashing over him, filling you with each desperate, instinctual thrust. He felt the warmth of his release inside you, the way it flooded between you both, and a soft, ragged moan escaped his lips, his body going slack beneath yours. The moment stretched, suspended between you, his head falling back against the pillow, his eyes barely able to stay open as he looked up at you, his breathing heavy, his mind foggy, blissed out from everything you’d just pulled from him.

You stayed there, letting him come down, letting him feel the weight of you, the heat of you surrounding him still, holding him in place even as his body gave way to exhaustion, the thrill and rawness etched into every part of him. And he couldn’t help but smile, that quiet, blissful smile that only you ever seemed to draw from him, his mind left spinning, his heart pounding as you’d taken him apart.

“Baby…” Your voice was soft, deceptively gentle.

He blinked up at you, his gaze dazed, unfocused, and he mumbled, “I’m- I’m sorry.” his voice trembling, cracking at the edges, his eyes glassy with the threat of tears he was trying to swallow back.

You leaned in close, your breath brushing against his cheek. “I thought you were a man, Alex…” you whispered, sharp and unforgiving. Before he could process it, your hand came down again, another slap across the same cheek, the sting spreading like fire. His skin was flushed, reddening under your touch, but this time, he didn’t react, didn’t even flinch, almost as if he’d been expecting it, bracing himself for whatever you’d give him.

You tilted your head, observing him with a look that was equal parts cruel and possessive, taking in his broken expression, his breath shuddering in his chest. “You’re just a little boy, aren’t you?” you murmured, the words laced with a kind of knowing that broke through whatever restraint he had left.

That did it. You saw the flicker of something in his eyes, the way his lips quivered, and finally, he broke, and when he did, it was quiet – a soft, ragged sob that slipped out before he could hold it back. It seemed to come from somewhere deep, a release he hadn’t let himself feel until this very moment. His chest heaved, and a single tear escaped, trailing slowly down his cheek, disappearing into the fabric beneath him. You’d led him here, piece by piece.

“You think you can make me come now?” you murmured, your voice low, challenging, a question that wasn’t really a question at all. He didn’t answer. He couldn’t, and you knew that. You’d already decided – you were in control now, and he had no say, no power left but to surrender to the rhythm you set.

Slowly, you began to move, so subtly he might not have felt it at all. Or maybe he was feeling everything too intensely, his senses overloaded, his body so sensitised that it bordered on numbness. Maybe he’d finally floated somewhere beyond sensation, beyond thought, until there was nothing left but you. Each gentle lift of your hips, every subtle press as you sank back down, was like a tide pulling him deeper. You could feel him, spent but still so sensitive, as your bodies met again and again.

A faint wetness slicked between your thighs, a reminder of his release, of the way he’d given himself up to you. You knew how he normally felt about things like this – the mess, the stickiness, the tangibility of it all. Usually, he’d flinch, squirm, his brows knitting with discomfort if anything lingered too long, if it wasn’t kept neat. But tonight, he didn’t care. He was too far gone, too blissfully adrift to mind. And maybe that was what made it so exquisite, that he’d given even that up, abandoned every control, every wall he’d usually keep so carefully constructed.

He tried to make a sound, his mouth falling open, lips parting, but nothing came out. His breath was shallow, his body pliant under yours, and for once, you didn’t watch him. You leaned forward, letting your lips brush the curve of his neck, tasting the salt of his skin as you pressed soft kisses there, each one a silent promise that you’d guide him back when it was time. But for now, he was good, perfectly, beautifully lost.

With a deep breath, you quickened your pace, the friction building as you moved against him, your own body beginning to crest toward release. He was your anchor and your audience, and as you chased that final, intoxicating high, you could feel the way his body responded to every slight movement, even in this undone state, holding onto each moment, letting himself be taken, without question, without resistance.

The wave of pleasure came slow and steady, sweeping through you, filling the space between you both, a shared warmth that seemed to hold him there as much as it held you. You stayed that way, still connected, feeling him breathe, your own heartbeat slowing as you brought him back, brought yourself back, from the edge you’d gone to together. You felt it, the unexpected pulse, his body giving in to another orgasm that caught him off guard, his expression empty yet vulnerable, completely still under you. His skin felt warm, flushed, somewhere unreachable.

You leaned in close, pressing a soft whisper to his neck. “Hey.” you murmured, voice gentle as you began placing slow, feather-light kisses from his neck, tracing a path up to his cheek, feeling the dampness where his skin was still wet.

As you kissed along his face, down to his eyelashes that glistened with those unshed tears, you saw him begin to come back, bit by bit, returning from the quiet. You shifted, letting your body relax fully on top of his, feeling your weight settle over him as he slipped out of you. You felt your warmth on his lower belly, a reminder of how close you’d been, how deeply entwined you were. And slowly, you sensed his awareness returning, his chest beginning to tremble beneath yours, small shudders building until he drew a sharp, desperate gasp, as if finally realising he needed to breathe again.

You moved instinctively, your hands gentle but firm, one reaching up to tangle in his hair, carefully breaking apart the strands still stiff from gel, while the other traced down the length of his arm. With each stroke, you felt him soften, his defences lowering, until he reached out, wrapping his arms around you with a fierce urgency. His grip was tight, holding you so close it was as though he wanted to fuse your bodies together, as if letting go even slightly would unravel everything you’d shared. He held on until there was barely room to breathe, both of your chests pressed so tightly together that neither of you could take a full breath, but neither of you cared.

He needed this closeness, needed you fully in his embrace, his hands pressing into your back, fingertips digging in just enough to ground him in the reality of your touch. His breathing was erratic, his body warm and trembling, and you could feel his heartbeat beneath yours, the soft, wild thud of it syncing with your own. And you simply stayed there, held within his grip, breathing in unison, letting him feel every inch of you, every quiet promise that you wouldn’t go, that you’d stay right here as long as he needed.

Your fingers traced slow circles into his scalp, soothing, gentle, coaxing him back to a place of calm, and as you felt his breathing begin to steady, he buried his face into your neck, nuzzling closer, his lips brushing faintly against your skin. The silence wrapped around you both, thick and comforting, and you knew that even without words, he understood.

He stayed silent for a long moment, his arms still locked around you. You felt each shaky breath he took, felt his heartbeat slow but still rapid beneath your cheek as you stayed pressed against his chest. Finally, his voice broke the quiet, soft and almost shy.

“Thank you…” he whispered, his voice trembling, barely more than a breath against your skin. His fingers loosened slightly, tracing gentle lines down your back. “You…I don’t know how you do this to me.”

You lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze, your hand cradling his cheek, brushing a stray tear with your thumb. “It’s okay.” you murmured, keeping your voice soft, soothing. “Just let yourself feel it.”

A fresh tear slipped down his cheek, and he turned his face into your hand, his lips brushing your palm in a quiet, grateful kiss. “I’ve never…” he started, but his voice broke off. “Never felt this…open.”

You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the raw emotion that he rarely let anyone else see. Gently, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, then to his lips, delicate and tender. His hand found yours, fingers interlocking as he held on.

“Don’t worry about words.” you said quietly. “Just let me take care of you.”

He nodded, his gaze softening as he took a shaky breath, and you carefully extricated yourself from his hold, moving slowly, not wanting to break the moment. He watched you with a kind of reverence, still lying back, and as you moved off the bed, he kept his eyes on you, silently following every movement, as if he needed that reassurance.

You reached for a warm, damp cloth, returning to sit beside him, gently urging him to relax back onto the pillow. He flinched slightly as the cloth made contact, his body still oversensitized, every gentle press of fabric sending ripples of sensation over his skin.

“Shhh…” you whispered. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

He swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling as he tried to relax under your touch, his gaze following the slow, careful movements as you gently cleaned him, wiping away every trace of what you’d shared. You could see the gratitude in his eyes, the way he’d gone soft.

He let out a shaky breath, his hand finding yours once more, squeezing. “I’m…I’m here.” he whispered, as if saying it aloud would help him believe it.

You leaned down, brushing a soft kiss to his hand. “I know.” you replied, your voice a warm promise. “I’m right here with you.”

a/n: based on some requests, I cba to find them all now but maybe you know which ones I mean. I think I like how it turned out

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #smut #sub!alex #goblinontour

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dead-boys-club · 2 days ago

Text

† memories : katsuki.

❥ scenario: i wish that you would stay in my memories. ❥ no triggers; not rated. ❥ no betas. ❥ requested.

it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

you hadn’t planned on running into him again - not after everything, not after the way things ended back in ua. but here he was, standing in the doorway of your kitchen with his familiar presence filling the space, making it feel smaller and too quiet all at once.

what was he even doing?

katsuki didn’t say anything at first, just leaned against the counter with that same intense expression you remembered from years ago. it was the look he used to give you when he was trying to hold something back, wrestling with words he didn’t know how to say. part of the reason you weren't together anymore - his inability to communicate.

the silence stretched on, heavy with everything left unsaid, until he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “you’re still… here.” The words hung in the air, not just a statement of where you were standing, but an echo of the past he’d never fully let go.

you were struggling to keep it in the past.

you tried to keep your voice steady, folding your arms to create some barrier, any kind of shield between you and the memories that threatened to surface. “yeah, still here. you too, apparently.”

he nodded, glancing around, his gaze lingering on the little details that hadn’t changed since the days you’d spent here together, laughing, arguing, and just… existing in each other’s lives. back then, the kitchen had been your shared refuge, a place where he’d let himself soften, where you’d sit on the counter while he grumbled about his day, cooking you dinner.

he occasionally stayed up to pack you little lunches.

“things… look the same,” he muttered, barely meeting your eyes. His voice was softer, almost vulnerable in a way that katsuki bakugo rarely allowed himself to be. “it’s like nothing changed.”

but you both knew it had. the years had shifted you in ways that made even simple conversations feel different, edged with a mixture of nostalgia and lingering pain.

you looked away, swallowing the ache that rose in your throat. “People change, katsuki. things end, whether we want them to or not.”

he flinched at your words, as if you’d struck him. the line between his brows deepened, his frustration clear. “i know that. doesn’t mean it doesn’t still… mess with my head, alright?” his fists clenched at his sides, a habit he’d never grown out of. “sometimes i feel like i could walk in and… like you’d still be here, waiting.”

the admission hung between you, raw and unguarded, and it made something inside you twist painfully. he’d always been so determined, so sure of himself, but now there was a crack in his armor, a glimpse of the hurt he never let show.

“katsuki,” you said quietly, finally meeting his gaze. “we’re both different people now. you’re a hero. you’ve got your life, your work. And me… i’ve moved on.” the words felt hollow, even as you tried to convince yourself that they were true.

his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with something fierce and unspoken. “have you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words crashed over you like a wave.

he had always been able to see straight through you.

you wanted to say yes, to give him the closure he needed, but standing here, with the ghost of your past filling the air around you, the answer felt so much harder to hold onto.

he pushed off the counter, stepping closer, his presence intense and overwhelming, as it had always been. “i just… i can’t stand thinking of someone else here,” he muttered, his voice laced with an anger he could barely contain. “thinking that this could’ve been us.”

the words cut deep, stirring the memories you’d tried so hard to bury. in his eyes, you saw the reflection of what could have been - a life you’d once dreamed of, a love you’d thought would last. but the years had taught you that some things weren’t meant to be, no matter how much you wanted them.

with a shaky breath, you took a step back, creating a space between you that felt both necessary and agonizing. “kat… you know we can’t go back.”

he looked away, his shoulders slumping in defeat. for a moment, you saw the boy he’d been back in ua, the one who’d held you with a fierceness that made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered. but now, as he turned to leave, you knew that part of him was as lost to you as you were to him.

and as the door closed behind him, you were left in the silence of a kitchen that still held the echoes of a love that neither of you had ever truly let go.

#mha imagines #mha imagine #mha #mha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #bnha #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader

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buddie-buddie · 2 days ago

Text

The headquarters of the Buckley campaign are alive with overlapping voices, ringing phones, and the low hum of news coverage on every available screen.

It’s election night, the air thick with anticipation as staffers, volunteers, and supporters move around the space, each one carrying an energy that’s equal parts excitement and tension. Tables are crowded with stacks of voter turnout reports and precinct updates, laptops open and phones buzzing as every new projection is analyzed and discussed.

Large screens along the walls display a constant stream of election coverage, each network breaking down swing states, exit polls, and county-by-county tallies. Color-coded maps flash across the screens, updates coming in minute by minute, with each projected win or loss sending a new ripple through the room. The cheers, murmurs, and exchanged glances create a low, steady hum that’s almost like white noise, underscored by the ever-present tension of the night’s stakes.

There’s an air of barely contained excitement, a collective holding of breath as everyone waits, glued to the screens, hoping for the numbers they’ve spent months working toward.

Between Buck’s team and Eddie’s, there are well over three dozen people milling around the room, but Eddie’s attention belongs to only one of them.

Buck sits on the edge of one of the desks, his posture just a little too rigid. His shoulders are drawn up tighter than usual, muscles tense. One leg is crossed over the other, but his foot bounces in a restless rhythm, betraying the nerves Eddie’s certain he’s trying his hardest to mask. His fingers tap against his knee, an unconscious beat that grows faster each time the news anchor cuts to another update.

He’s looking calm enough if you didn’t know him well, if you weren’t paying attention to the slight furrow in his brow or the way his jaw tenses every few seconds. But Eddie does know him. He knows the way Buck’s gaze keeps flitting to the nearest TV screen and then back down, never quite settling, as if he can’t bear to watch for too long. The strain in Buck’s expression is subtle, barely there, but to Eddie, it’s as obvious as a shout.

Eddie’s gut twists, both in sympathy and in something deeper, something that makes his heart beat a little faster. He’s enamored by Buck— has been from the start, from the moment he met him. Even now, in the middle of this crowded room, with the weight of an election hanging over him, Buck is captivating in a way that’s impossible to ignore.

And Eddie can’t look away.

Thankfully, it’s his job not to.

But keeping an eye on the guy he’s sworn to protect is a far cry from what Eddie really wants to do, from what he longs for with every breath and every heartbeat. It takes everything in him not to move closer, not to cross the room and kneel in front of Buck, to take Buck’s hands in his. He longs to kiss the worry lines off his forehead, to run his thumb over Buck’s bottom lip, to soothe the faint indentation where his teeth have been digging into it all night.

He feels helpless against the near-magnetic pull he feels toward Buck, how desperately he longs to reassure him, to let him know he doesn’t have to carry this alone. That Eddie has enough faith in him for the both of them.

There isn’t a doubt in his mind that tonight belongs to Buck. Never in his life has he been more certain about a presidential candidate’s ability to win–– and it's not because he’s spent the last fourteen months sharing most of his waking hours with the guy.

And many of his sleeping ones, too.

No, it has nothing at all to do with that and everything to do with Buck’s vision for the future, with the conviction Eddie has seen firsthand, day in and day out. He’s watched Buck pour himself into this campaign, not out of ambition or ego, but out of a genuine, undying love for the people he wants to serve. Buck’s loyalty to this country runs as deep as anything Eddie’s ever seen, and he believes in it wholeheartedly. He believes in Buck’s relentless drive to make things better, to bring hope and unity to a country that desperately needs it. Buck has a fire, a determination, that’s as clear as the blue in his eyes, and Eddie knows that if anyone deserves to win this, it’s him.

Eddie’s confidence isn’t just personal— it’s built on everything he’s witnessed, every late-night conversation about policies and plans, every impassioned speech, every flash of determination in Buck’s eyes when he talks about what he envisions for the future of America.

There’s no doubt in Eddie’s mind those 270 electoral votes are his. Hell, he’d bet his house and every dollar to his name that Buck takes well over 300 of them.

But it’s clear Buck doesn’t have the same faith in himself. There’s a pang in Eddie’s chest as he watches him, seeing the unease he can’t quite mask, despite his best efforts.

Eddie hates seeing Buck like this— tense, wound tight like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And he is, in a way. Eddie knows it. Just as he knows how hard Buck is trying to keep it together for everyone in the room, to project that calm confidence he thinks they need from him.

But he’s struggling, Eddie can tell.

Maddie stands beside Buck, her hand resting on his shoulder as she gives him a reassuring squeeze.

Words could never accurately convey just how grateful Eddie is for Maddie and all she does for Buck. Maddie is the person you want by your side–– in the good moments and the bad ones, too. And it’s not just about her work on the campaign, though she’s brilliant and absolutely incredible at what she does. It’s about her loyalty, her fierce, unwavering commitment to Buck’s happiness, his vision, his dreams.

Eddie’s grateful to Maddie for everything. For raising him and loving him and being his cheerleader and his confidante and his champion every step of the way. And for being here, for knowing exactly what Buck needs and offering it so freely.

And yet, despite the gratitude, there’s a flash of something else— something raw and unbidden— that twists in Eddie’s chest. A flicker of jealousy, sharp and undeniable, because Maddie gets to be the one beside Buck right now. She’s the one comforting him in a way that Eddie wishes more than anything that he could. She gets to reach out, offer that reassurance, bridge the gap that Eddie has to keep firmly in place.

He watches as Maddie squeezes Buck’s shoulder, her touch gentle and familiar, her presence a steadying force. Eddie aches to be the one in her place.

No, not in her place. He doesn’t want to replace her. Maddie is Buck’s sister, his family, his anchor through every high and low, and Eddie knows how much that matters. He knows how essential she is to Buck’s life, how her love and support grounds him in a way no one else’s could. And he’s grateful for that— grateful that Buck has Maddie beside him, someone who knows him so completely and loves him unconditionally, just as he deserves.

Eddie just wishes he could be there, too. Alongside her. To share in offering that reassurance, to stand beside Maddie as a constant in Buck’s life. He wants to be part of that inner circle, not to take Maddie’s place at the table but to pull up a chair of his own.

But he can’t. Not here, not with so many eyes watching. So he swallows it all down, grateful and envious in equal measure.

The tension in the room rises as more people move in and out, staffers murmuring updates and running quick calculations. One of them leans in, whispering something to Buck, and he nods, forcing a faint, strained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Eddie sees right through it.

As Buck glances across the room, his gaze lands on Eddie, and for just a brief second, their eyes meet. In that moment, Eddie catches a flicker of something vulnerable— something Buck would never let the rest of the room see. But Eddie sees it, and it’s enough to make his resolve tighten. He can’t stand the thought of Buck bearing this weight alone, can’t stand seeing that doubt flash in his eyes.

Just then, a break in the commotion creates a quiet lull. Eddie seizes it, catching Buck’s eye and nodding subtly toward the door that leads to the back hallway. Buck hesitates for a second, glancing around quickly before standing up and slipping away, Eddie following close behind.

Buck heads for an empty office at the end of the hallway, far enough from the main room and all the excitement of the night that no one will stumble upon them.

The second they’re alone, Eddie closes the door behind them, blocking out the noise and leaving them in a pocket of silence. Buck lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping just slightly as the weight of the night catches up to him.

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, just watches him, taking in the vulnerability Buck allows himself only in this moment.

“You doing okay?” Eddie asks gently. His voice is low and steady, but there’s an edge of worry there that he doesn’t bother hiding.

Buck nods, but his gaze drops, betraying the truth. “Y–Yeah. I mean… it’s, uh. It’s a lot,” he admits, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. He glances up, giving Eddie a tight smile. “Trying to keep it together, you know?”

Eddie nods. “I know.”

He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to. He knows that Buck is searching for his words, trying to sift through the flood of thoughts and emotions churning inside him.

Eddie recognizes the look in Buck’s eye— the one that says he’s struggling to make sense of it all, feeling the weight of every hope, fear, and responsibility pressing down on him. So Eddie just waits, steady and silent, giving Buck the space he needs to untangle it all.

He’ll give Buck all the time he needs. Eddie would stop the world for him if he could.

Buck’s eyes search his for a moment, as if gauging how much he can let down the guard he’s been holding up all night. “It’s just… what if it’s not enough? All this work, all these people counting on me, what if it– if I–”

Eddie’s hand finds Buck’s shoulder, a silent promise. “You’ve done everything possible, Buck. And you’ve done it better than anyone else could.” He pauses, letting the sincerity of his words settle. “This is your night. I believe in you.”

Buck’s gaze falters, his mouth pulling into a frown. “What if we lose Pennsylvania?”

Eddie cuts him off gently, shaking his head. “Your home state? No chance.”

“But–”

“But nothing,” Eddie says simply. “All the polls have you taking it by a landslide. That state has been behind you from day one. You’re not losing it.”

Buck bites his lip, and Eddie can see another worry forming in his mind before he even says it. “Yeah, but what if— what if the turnout isn’t what we expected? What if the numbers were off, or— or the projections weren’t accurate?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got every reputable source predicting a win. A runaway, in fact. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just looking for something to worry about now.”

“But–”

Eddie takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. His voice drops, low and steady. “You’re going to win. Trust me.”

Buck tries to respond, another worry on the tip of his tongue, but Eddie doesn’t give him the chance. Instead, he leans in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Buck’s forehead, right where the worry lines have creased all night.

Buck’s breath hitches, and Eddie trails a gentle kiss to his temple, then another to his cheek, each one a wordless reassurance.

“Eddie…” Buck starts, but Eddie kisses the bridge of his nose, effectively silencing him. Buck’s shoulders relax a little more with each touch.

“Shh,” Eddie murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips as he continues to pepper kisses across Buck’s face. “No more worrying, alright? It’s your night, Buck. Let yourself have it.”

Buck nods, his face softening as the tension finally begins to fade. He steps closer, reaching up to rest a hand on Eddie’s cheek, his thumb brushing gently over his skin.

“Thank you,” Buck breathes, barely audible. There’s a tenderness in his eyes, something unspoken but deep, as he leans in, his lips meeting Eddie’s in a soft, lingering kiss.

The touch is warm, familiar, and achingly gentle, carrying the weight of everything Buck hasn’t said out loud, but Eddie hears all the same. Eddie’s hand settles at Buck’s waist, pulling him just a little closer, his heartbeat steadying as he melts into the kiss.

For a moment, everything fades away. The noise, the pressure, the stakes, all of it.

It’s just them, steady and certain.

“Always,” Eddie murmurs, just loud enough for Buck to hear, a promise woven into the quiet moment that stretches between them.

Buck leans back, a bit of peace finally settling over him. “We should get back in there,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Eddie can see the reluctance in his eyes, mirroring his own.

But they’re on begged and borrowed time, and they both know it. With a slight nod, Eddie reaches for the door, his fingers lingering on the handle as he pulls it open, his gaze still on Buck.

“After you, Mr. President,” he says, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Buck gives him a look, somewhere between amusement and a hint of exasperation, his lips twitching in a barely-contained smile. He rolls his eyes, but there’s a glimmer of warmth in his expression, a quiet confidence that Eddie hasn’t seen yet tonight.

As Buck steps past him, their pinkies brush— a small, fleeting touch, but one that sends a spark through Eddie all the same. Eddie doesn’t pull his hand away, letting the touch linger as long as he dares.

It feels like a promise, a shared acknowledgment that whatever happens tonight, whatever waits for them beyond those doors, they’re in this together. Eddie’s chest tightens with a quiet certainty, a sneaking suspicion that no matter the outcome tonight, they’ve already won something bigger.

also on ao3

#happy election day have some white house au #anyone else bugging out?#no?#just me?#cool cool cool cool cool #white house au #my writing #president buck #secret service agent eddie diaz #buddie #buddie au #buddie white house au #i forget how to tag for white house au #that's what i get for going a year and a half without an update #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie fic

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screams-in-writing · 3 days ago

Text

Moar fluff snippets ‘cause I enjoy writing ‘em (and I need some more time to edit other wips):

13- cuddles of consolation (2nd pov)

You’re working at the cafe when Mr. Puzzles decided to visit out of the blue.

This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, since he loved to find any excuse to spend time with you. It tended to translate to him wanting your undivided attention with Puzzles giving you his in return.

But today, instead of sauntering up to the counter to flirt outrageously with whatever film he decided to recently take inspiration from, the tv headed man was more subdued.

In fact, he didn’t even look in your direction as he slipped into the secluded area of the cafe in the back corner.

And stayed there.

Interesting, and perhaps a little concerning.

Once you finished up your shift about an hour later, you get yourself a snack and a drink before joining Mr. Puzzles in the small, quiet space in the usually bustling, lively cafe.

Upon entering the small alcove, you find Mr. Puzzles scrunched up on the seat closest to the wall.

Hearing you, the man raised his head to show off a worn-out expression across his screen.

Shoving the table away from Puzzles, you sat down alongside him, which he was quick to take advantage of.

As expected, he was seeking comfort, but not in a way you’d anticipated.

But honestly?

You ought to have expected this to happen at some point when Mr. Puzzles just removed his metal television head and gingerly set it down on your lap.

The rest of the man’s body held in place, as if uncertain what to do with itself.

While you caressed the edges of the screen and the antenna, Mr. Puzzles’ body finally moved.

It scooted closer to your side, pressing up to you while an arm went over your shoulders.

“So.” You glanced down at the tv screen, and see bits of static here and there with digital eyes closed, and a content technicolor smile. “I don’t suppose you did something to upset Smg4 or one of his friends, did you?”

The digital eyes flickered open then closed at once as Mr. Puzzles grumbled something through the static in his speakers.

“Did you deserve it?”

A long, exasperated sigh emitted before Puzzles twitched his exposed neck in a nod.

“What am I going to do with you?” You patted to the side of the bowler hat.

In answer, Mr. Puzzles lifted your hand back to his antenna with the arm not over your shoulders.

“It was a rhetorical question.” You stated, pinching the metal between your fingers and giving it a little yank.

Quiet static became an interested purr of electrical sputters.

You remembered to quick turn the dial on Mr. Puzzles volune to prevent his moan and ��please, more’ to not echo into the cafe. As you did you let go of the antenna and after seeing the confused expression, smiled at the man, and turned his tv head to face away from you as you lean into his body’s side. You swat the hand trying to return the metal tv head to its rightful spot, but you just said ‘no’. There may have been a whine over that but it could have just been feedback from Mr. Puzzles speaker at a lowered volume. Shrugging off the man’s arm, you give his tv head a quick hug before placing it on the table, and sprawling yourself over Mr. Puzzles’ lap and chest.

Being poked and prodded gave no response nor encouraged you to move. Mr. Puzzles couldn’t turn up the volume on himself with where his head was, so you couldn’t quite hear what he was saying. But you got an idea when the body’s arms wrapped snugly around you and the neck nuzzled along your shoulder.

“Ssss-ne-sne-eak-akky-yyy.”

A guttural, hoarse whisper choked out near your ear as what made up Mr. Puzzles neck lingered alongside your head.

“Your vocal cords from when you were fully human work?” You twisted in the man’s grip as you carefully run your hands along Puzzles wire-wrapped neck.

“Yeh-yeg-yes-esss.” A raspy breath. “Ddiv-diff-ifica-ga-ficul-icullttt.”

“I had no idea…” You’d felt the faint vibrations beneath your fingertips. “Does it hurt?”

“S-s-ssomm-omm-mme.” Mr. Puzzles admitted with a wheeze and even a cough.

“More difficult and painful here in my world versus yours?” You asked, petting the wires carefully down to Puzzles shoulders.

“Mmhmm.” Was verbalized mainly with a breath versus a voice.

“I’m sorry. Do you need to put your head back on?” You let go and leaned back. “I was just playing around with the volume. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Iii-issss-all-all ri-ight-ghtt.” Mr. Puzzles’ hands gently squeezed you into his chest. “Can-cannn-annn leav-eave-eve but vol-lllum-ume-e up-p-p?”

“Of course!” You lean out of Puzzles’ embrace and reach around to fiddle with the dial as a slow sigh emits. You rest your hand on top of Mr. Puzzles’ metal head. “Sorry.”

“You didn’t know.” Mr. Puzzles said simply, no upset tone in his voice. If anything, he just sounded weary again. “Let me hold you?”

You leaned right back into Puzzles’ body’s waiting arms.

As the two of you snuggled, you fell asleep, closely followed by Mr. Puzzles.

It was proof to how much Puzzles needed the comfort and how tired you actually were that neither of you woke up to the gasps and stifled screams of some of your coworkers.

As it turned out, not all of them actually realized that Mr. Puzzles’ head came off of his body.

Another coworker, who just rolled with everything he saw, snapped a picture and printed it off on the printer up in the podcast room to leave it on the table for you and Mr. Puzzles to find.

You would snatch the photo up to put on your wall at home while Mr. Puzzles, with his metal head back where it belonged, mumbled under his breath about people needing to be more considerate of other’s privacy.

That tirade ended when you planted a kiss in the middle of Puzzles’ screen with a loud ‘mwah’ sound that made someone outside the alcove wolf whistle, and another loudly announce ‘hell yeah, kiss that tv man!’

Both you and Mr. Puzzles wore matching blushes when eventually emerging from the alcove despite doing nothing but cuddling and trading kisses with one another.

14- cuddles after being touch-starved (1st pov)

I wasn’t entirely certain about this.

It seemed much too fast, even if I desperately wanted to join you with the all but open invitation given to me.

The cozy, relaxed atmosphere and the soft material of pillows and blankets before me haphazardly tossed together in an inviting place to relax was so, so tempting.

But it was too good to be true, wasn’t it?

Was I lying to myself that you actually wanted me to spend time with you?

The doubt lingered as I stared at your living room floor, covered in a ridiculous amount of those pillows and blankets.

The invitation of comfort and company was something I yearned for, yet I couldn’t help but think it was meant to lower my guard. To hurt me in some way, when I wasn’t paying attention room to my surroundings.

I lifted my gaze from the soft items to see you sprawled on a patch of it, looking entirely relaxed and at peace with the world. I hesitated a moment longer, before I lowered myself into the comfy material, and lie on my side facing you while supporting my metal head with a pillow and a blanket shoved under my wire-wrapped neck.

Uncertain when or how it happened, I soon met you in the middle of the soft bedding, and went inert, craning my neck to meet your eyes with a wary static expression.

Was this really okay?

It was, for you, as you encouraged me to indulge in the thrilling sensation of holding another person in a loose hug, with no violence forthcoming.

I sagged with an internal sigh of relief as you ran your hands over my head, then down to my neck, where your fingers lingered. Shivering at the touch, I leaned into it as you trailed your hands down to my shoulders. Letting out a faint noise, I pressed back into your gentle caressing, before going still when you moved to my collarbones. I peeked at you with an undoubtedly flushed expression across my face, the screen dancing between a full on blush and a sheepish one when one of my speakers squeaked out a funny static.

You gave me an amused look at that, then continued to explore my collarbone before you abruptly placed both hands palm down on my chest.

I sucked in an unnecessary breath, then practically melted as I noted that you were listening, in a sense, to my heart beating with the aid of mechanics within to keep it beating with all the changes I’d made to myself over the years.

Your hands remained in place, and surely you noticed the quickening pace of the heart beneath.

I reached around you to clasp my hand over yours, then brought my other hand over to lightly grasp your wrists to lead you to my head again. Settling comfortably on the pillows and blankets I sighed wistfully as you brought your fingers to my screen to trace down along through the static fuzz that reacted to your skin’s touch.

Eventually, I was overstimulated from the static building up, and scooped you into my arms while I discharged it swiftly through my antenna with a sharp crack of electricity.

While you laughed at the unexpected sound, I happily drew you even closer to me.

This had been a good idea on your part; a quiet home, a comforting sensation of the soft bedding to rest on, and the feeling of being cared for.

I would have to give you the same care and attentiveness in return when I was feeling better and could devote my attention entirely to you.

For now, I would enjoy this quiet moment.

15- squeezing them tightly (1st pov)

(Note: I. Had fun. Interpreting this prompt after seeing the wotfi ‘24 trailer with Mr. Puzzles in the engine room and drafted this before the wotfi came out).

Tags: Sort of (?) suggestive content for this one. Cause. You know. Wires. But sfw here.

I believed that Smg4 and his friends would soon be rudely barging in an attempt to stop me.

Well, wouldn’t they be surprised to know that I was ready for them this time?

Without a sound, I used one of the trailing cables to snap up the intruder with ease. Already, I had plans forming in my mind with how to deal with whoever it was, as I brought my now-captive to be face to screen with me for better delivery of any threat or taunt to be had.

Instead, I froze up the moment my gaze landed on you.

I said your name shakily, static muffling my speakers. Swiftly, I loosened the cable wrapped around you. Shifting my face to a strained technicolor smile and worried digital eyes beneath a furrowed brow. My voice was as shaky as my smile was.

“What are you-“ I spluttered to a halt, paused. “Why are you here?” I eventually demanded, the worry trickling into my tone. “I could have hurt you!” Anger came next, covering my fear. “You shouldn’t be here! I didn’t…why are you here?!” I unintentionally gave the cable around you a squeeze while I went about frantically barricading the engine room.

Oh, this wasn’t good.

I couldn’t-

You made a tiny noise.

My metal head snapped to attention in your direction, worried again that I’d possibly hurt you, but what I found instead was rather…interesting.

Telling.

You were flushed in the face and looking mortified about it.

“Oh?” I loomed closer while using the cable to bring you closer. A hooded look with a sly multicolored grin planted itself on my screen. “Do you happen to like this current form of mine, my dear?” I growled the last bit in a deeper tone while my smile turned into a giant, eager grin at your deepening blush. Loose cables rustled restlessly around the engine room as I reached up with a hand to go beneath you. Carefully, I settled you on my palm, but instead of freeing you from the cable around your middle, I instead playfully directed a few more cables to wind around your legs and arms. I unwound them now and again, amusing myself by making different patterns around you while you wriggled in my grasp. You did an adorable flail when I removed all the wires but the one around your middle that you finally grasped in your hands.

My laughter, the less manic kind, rang out in the large room as I slowly lowered my head closer while waiting to see what you’d do next. The entire room rattled again when I reacted to you carefully biting the wire.

Oh?

“Be careful, my dear.” I chuckled lowly and curled my fingers around you to make it so you only saw the wide grin on my screen. “I’ve got the upper hand right now. And much more.” I raised the cables and lowered them while staring directly at you.

Another bite, and a defiant expression with the blush that remained.

I didn’t know it, but I was also blushing, along with a heart rate across my face and eventual heart eyes at another bite that went straight to my body despite the cable that just question protruded out of my back.

Digital eyes met yours.

I forgot about Smg4 and the others for a moment while I lavished attention on you, and received pets to my screen that was currently much bigger than you in return.

Smg4 was understandably traumatized by the sight of you and Mr. Puzzles, in a bigger form connected to the engine room, making out as best the both of you could with one of you only having a screen as a face. Not to mention you were much smaller than the screen so it looked like you were trying to hug Mr. Puzzles’ screen as he held you with one hand to said screen, and one carefully cupping beneath you to make sure you didn’t fall from such a high height.

Smg4 was quick to retreat, leaving the doors open a crack, suddenly very content to wait for Mr. Puzzles to notice that he and Mario had made it to the engine room. While Smg4 was questioning his life choices up until this point, Mario just lifted a phone, eyes crossed, and took a picture. With a brighter flash than the phone ought to have had.

On one hand, it got Mr. Puzzles’ attention.

On the other hand, fighting was made incredibly difficult because Mr. Puzzles really, really didn’t want to let go of you.

In the end, you ended up being brought outside the engine room to revolve the matter. It was luck that Mr. Puzzles didn’t end up getting destroyed along with the engine room, but you wouldn’t get to see the man for awhile after he was arrested for all he’d done to Smg4 and the others.

At least you were able to visit Mr. Puzzles now and again, eventually.

#mr puzzles x reader fluff snippets #*tumbles mr puzzles around in a dryer*#get fluff and affectionate tv man #engine room mr puzzles all ‘well hello there’#:)

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