#somebody would have made this joke before...
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
| I am in love and deep shit |
A tale of self-indulgence, affections and vengeance.
Part 1
SelfawareAu, isekai, vengeful mc. 8k words. LADS x nonmc!reader
AN: phew I finalllllyyyyyy got the first part done. I had a different idea but when people loved the vengefulMC arc so much I just had to redo the whole thing.
Summary:- you died and got isekai into LADS. Chapter 1: basically a crash out. Chapter 2: you meet the guys. Chapter 3: Lore?
Chapter 1: THE AWAKENING.
Pain.
Unbridled and sharp pain courses through your entire body as if it had been dispersed through the air and reassembled. You rolled off the soft plush of the bed and threw up a string of curses dropped softly from your mouth "fucking hell, I ain't ever gonna touch anything they give me ever again," you mumble to yourself.
Dazed and trembling you barely manage to stand up and look around. A vague sense of familiarity bound with the reality that this was not your room invokes sheer feelings of panic and fear. "no way, no fucking- WHAT THE FUCK"
The moment you realized you were not in your place, you had a very valid crash out, screaming and crying and banging on the door, demanding to be let out or else you would scream so loud the dead would- oh.
The door was not unlocked.
You were alone, you made sure of it. There wasn't a sign of another person, at least not one of a man. Everything in that apartment looked like it belonged to women, from the furnishing to the clothes that were present. It was a cozy and homey space with high-tech appliances that didn't sit right.
In the middle of desperately looking for your phone, you passed by a huge window; by now, you were alert enough to notice the difference.
You lived in a quiet, peaceful and clean town, nothing close to the sight in front of you, "wow!" Even in the current situation, you were mesmerized.
Tall skyscrapers, with fancy designs, streets, and roads unlike you have ever seen before. Forget the town. You were sure your country didn't have anything like that. "Am I in a different country?!? Did somebody fucking smuggle me- oh my- I am gonna throw up again" That feeling of sickness swarmed in your stomach when you theorized that you maybe were on a different continent altogether.Â
Oh, you sweet summer child.
Just like that, you had another very valid crash out. In a fit of irrational haste you tried to make a run for it going straight to the front door but of course...it had a lock, and you had no idea how it worked you tried it once and then twice only to fail both times, scared you might screw up and alert the wrong people if you keep punching random buttons you stepped back, taking few deep breaths because Rash decisions were no help.
Now you were locked in.
Entering a spacious bathroom you went straight to find a mirror. Checking your whole body; you had felt such immense pain when you woke up. Surely there must be something wrong. All your fears died down when you didn't find any sign of injury or trauma. Absolutely nothing, only for it to now be replaced entirely by confusion. "The...the accident," you whispered, feeling perplexed. The images were still there; you were bleeding and severely injured, but right now, you stand here, all fine and pristine. Just how long were you out?
-----
"If this is some kind of practical joke, it isn't funny," you said out loud. You have been doing that for a while now as you searched for your damned phone. "maybe for you it is but the moment I catch you, you will wish I had died instead" Making threats to your imaginary kidnappers was turning more and more frustrating, tearing apart whatever was left of your sanity, a part of you regretted reading all those dark romance obsessed stalker fictions because look what happened.
Tired and parched from taking out loud so much, you went to the kitchen, the fridge, and the pantry fully stacked. You did find a cellular device, but your joy was short-lived since it was powered off due to a low battery. The charger was nearby, and you did not waste a second to plug it in.
Finally, a ray of hope had shined up on you.
While the phone charged, you started paying more attention; your focus was entirely on looking for your phone, but now that you had your 'kidnapper' phone, you decided to look for more clues about your whereabouts, and the best way to do that was through the news channel.
------
âGood morning, Linkon City! Iâm Seliha Ramona, and youâre watching Linkon City Newsâbringing you the latest updates to start your day.
Something strange happened while most of us were asleep. Late last night, a mysterious energy flux wave passed over the entire city. No power outages, no disruptionsâjust a brief, unexplainable pulse of energy that left scientists scratching their heads and residents wondering if they dreamed it. So, what was it? A natural anomaly? Perhaps a wandered attack? Or something else entirely? Weâll be diving into what we know so far, right after the break.â
Any other sound emitting from the screen fell deaf to your ears as your knees gave out and you fell limp on the floor.
"no, no, no, no wakeup, wakeup, wake,p, wakeup, wake..up the wake. Up wake...." your eyelids grew heavy, and the room spun as you babbled incoherent words.
-----
When you regained consciousness again, the TV was still on. Something played on it, maybe the advertisement for some products you knew jack shit about. As you lay there on the cold hard ground, you don't bother turning it off; the noises keep you grounded.Â
One would expect another wave of valid crash out but it never came. Your staggered breath and half-opened eyes were the only signs of life emitting from your body as you lay there...
Numb.
Once the irregular breath became steady you opened your eyes and welcomed the darkness. The sky outside had darkened, taking away the main source of light from the apartment. You stare blankly at the screen, not watching what it shows. A part of you had hoped to wake up in your world, surrounded by your things and people much to your dismay.
After you had actively accepted the fact that you were in Linkon City, a made-up place of a virtual world, you found the strength to sit up and then stand on your own two feet and hurry towards the device you had left to charge.Â
As you go through that phone, something inside you churns as it vibrates continuously, notifications one after the other.Â
Tara
yevone
Grayson
And others so you didn't care for you scrolled down pausing till you found .... them.
Dr. Mcdreamy
pretty fishie
eepy baby
handsome boy
Colonel bbg.
Your hands shake and you put the phone down, smart enough to make the connections. You were in the game; this was the apartment designed for MC, and this phone belonged to MC, but the question remains...
Where was she?
But wait...
Aren't you MC? Have you just taken her place but how? How in the ever-burning hell did you get inside the game? And what the hell are you supposed to do now?
The phone was useless now; you couldn't reach out to anyone; what would you even say?
"yes hello! See your world and everything you know is fake but me, I am real, and I decided how the fate of your world goes because it is all a game for me, but I am kind of stuck in the game right now so like? Do me a solid and help a sis out?"
Yeah no, that is not very smart.
-----
You found yourself standing in front of the mirror again, face wet with the cold water you splashed on your face.
"lucid dreaming," you give yourself a thumbs up to a viable theory. "Ugh, no, I only tried it once when I was 15...shifting perhaps? No, what am I even? ARGH-" You pull on your hair in frustration, and then it hits you.
Hard like the truck that killed you.
"coma! I am in a coma," you jumped. "Yes, now that makes sense. I got in an accident and fell into a coma!" Yes, you were pacing around talking out loud to yourself like a maniac, but it is all very valid in your given situation. "I just need to find a lamp and stare at it!"
Long story short. That didn't work.
You were looking up the internet for methods to wake up from a coma, but the best you could find were cases when patients woke up when they realized they were in a state of dream; self-awareness was something that may help a patient wake up. If not that, there were other medical ways that you were sure did not exist in your world. Whatever hope you had left was now in the hands of the doctor of your world.
Pushing the sleek laptop away, you lay back on the couch. "Now what?" you say out loud. "Well, if I am here, I might as well..."

Chapter 2: THE RE-INTRODUCTION
The hunter uniform looks good on you. It was a brand-new day, and staying in that apartment would not answer your questions. Tara had texted you the most. You made up Some excuse about being sick, but there hasn't been one text from....them.
Your heartbeat picked up at the thought of them, millions of questions running through your mind: will they recognize you as MC? Will they show you the same affection as they show her? How will it be? What if they know you are not the MC but an imposter? Because let's be real, no matter how hard one tries, you can't make your MC look exactly like you. The game didn't even have the right option to do your hair right!!!! MC is just 10 times prettier version of you with vaguely resembling features, so would they really know its you?!
Well, only one way to find out.
----
Turns out the lock on the door had an option of a biometric system in case of emergencies. Mucb, to your joy, it accepted your fingerprint so that answered your first question. You were in the place of MC!
You opened the door, took a deep breath, and stepped out; you went to the elevator.
Pressed the button and waited.
The elevator stops.
The door opens.
Nothing prepares you for the sight in front of you.
Standing there in all his glory was the sweet beloved neighbor, Xavier.
The tall, starry-eyed man looks at you as if he had seen something marvelous, a vision so puzzling he couldn't even breathe right.
You were in awe, too; you thought he was pretty on screen, but right now, you wanted nothing else but to hold him and find the solace in his arms that you knew he could bring you. It was as if he had been harvested from the sun it self, molded into perfection as a beacon of strength
The trance is broken when the elevator door starts closing and Xavier shoots his arm out to stop it "You-"
"Hi Xavier!! It's me! ymcn" you chirped, sounding a little too cheerful to be real, so smooth of you. "ymcn?" he tilts his head in confusion.Â
Oh no, is he catching on already. the thought made you gulp. "Ah, you know your neighbor and very good Friend. You said stepping inside the elevator
Very smooth
Xavier graciously made space for you, his eyes scrutinizing, studying your every move and actions, he seemed to be on high alert and that scared you shit less. âSo another day at work huhâ you tried to make small talk feeling nervous but giddy, playing with the lobe of your ear, a dumb habit since childhood when you get awkward.
And finally, finally that guy cracks a smile.
âYou really do that huhâ be said his eyes suddenly brightening up with mirth, putting you at ease but you were confused âuh I do what-â you couldn't finish your sentence when Xavier suddenly reached out and pulled you flush into him.
Your brain shuts down.
He was so warm and despite his size, very huggable too. He seemed bigger then the description but then again you had taken infolds description with a grain of salt when they said Sylus was 6 '2 pfft.
It wasn't until you actually hugged him back that you noticed he was trembling âXavier?â You questioned, trying to pull away only for him to tighten his grip âam sorry, just need to hold you right nowâ he mumbles face pressed in you neck making your heart flutter, it was hard not to jump at him and hopefully trigger the freaky Xavier to come out and play. You really questioned your morals at that moment. âIs everything alright Xavierâ you asked again once you gathered yourself, noticing the fact that heâd squeeze you ever so gently every time you say his name âam good justâŠjust need a hugâ. He was so endearing, you can't be blamed for the way you just melt in his arms. âAwh sweetie, a difficult hunting mission?â You asked, rubbing his back, a soft cooing sound from your lips that made Xavier dig his fingers in the softness of your waist and take a sharp breath. â Uh I-â Before he could form a coherent sentence, the elevator door opened. You quickly pushed him off, you were at the ground level now and people needed to board on as well.
The moment you exited the elevator Xavier's finger found your wrist again holding it firmly, keeping you in place. You turned to see him and he was looking down at your body, not in a lustful way but observant. Still the fact he was looking at you like that made you blush âuh Xavierâ you poke his side and his head snaps up to your face âoh I uh I am so sorryâ he was aware of his staringâŠjust not truly apologetic âits just I was looking for the injuriesâ he says nervousness taking hold on his tone âinjuries?â you tilt your head, was mc supposed to have some injury at this point in the game?What chapter is this?.
âYeah you know from-from our last mission!â He looked away and he didn't seem convinced on his own words âoh yeah no I am fineâ you brush it off as just Xavier checking you out, you were his queen after all.
The thought made you giddy and inflated your ego.
âStill maybe go to dr. Zayne to get yourself checkedâ he said, fidgeting just a little. You didn't question the fact how he knew Dr.zayne, since in the game it was made clear that they weren't that aware of each other, but only because of the fact he looked so pretty when he blushed âyeah but I don't have an appointment I can't just barge in there now can Iâ you shrug as you both walk out of the building together. Hand in hand.
âNo he will, he is your primary physician, he will take out time for you.â The conviction in his voice didn't miss you, while you were aware he was you LI and your affinity with him was just as high as Xavier's you still felt uneasy. âBut my heart is-â
âPleaseâ he begged, his sapphire eyes brimming with emotions, worrying being the most prominent one âthat a- mission was bad and you were hurt. Captain Jenna told you to see the doctor first and foremost, remember?â
Like hell you did.
To not look suspicious you nod making him sigh visibly with relief âI'll go back to the headquarters I will do your desk work tooâ he said taking out his phone âwait you know where the hospital is right?â He asked, suddenly making you stiffen.
Like hell you did.
Again to not look suspicious you nod, Xavier only smiles âI'll still send you the directionsâ he smiles warmly, you couldn't help but giggle like a schoolgirl. His suave and charismatic demeanor fitting a royalty had you swooning.
Xavier not only gave you the address he fetched you a cab because let's be real, you don't actually know how to ride a bike ... .at least not the kind Mc had in the game.
And so now you stand in front of your other âboyfriend'sâ office. One thing you noticed was how everyone recognized you as the MC they treated you like they would treat her, Grayson even gave you the proper guide to his office not at all questioning why you would need to know, to them you were a wee little sick girl, who probably got a bad accident during a mission and is a bit confused and forgotâŠno biggie.
When you finally got the courage you knocked on the door, a smooth âcome inâ called back to you, an allowance to open the door and enter that you did.
âI was starting to think you fell asleep while standing right at my doorâ dark zayne spoke his chair turned away as he fetched a file from a shelf behind him âwho does that? I am pretty sure that's not possibleâ you say hoping heâd stay like that because after Xavier you were not in the shape to look at another devastatingly handsome man.
But of course he just had to turn.
You felt butterflies soaring when those sharp eyes were on you, This man. THIS man should NOT be a doctor. THAT face is not good for ANYONE'S heart.
âI think you should know that it is possible with some individuals, you maybe one of themâ
âWhat is and a- who?â you replied with a question, your voice strained, eyes unfocused.
âI am saying- are you having a stroke?â He asked head tilted as he tried to decipher your weird behavior.
âPossiblyâ
In hindsight you knew you should not have made that joke because now you were in a hospital bed going through tests. being closely monitored by Dr. Zayne. To no one's surprise your heart rate was accelerating in a concerning way.
âNervous?â The doctor clad in white smiles in a knowing way. âIt-its routine right. I am all goodâ you managed to say in between the short encounter with Xavier and now that you had no idea how you will handle the other three. You almost jumped at the prince and the doctor was making you weakâŠ.
This is so NOT going to be easy for you.
â
âSo you were not having a strokeâ Zayne comments the obvious. You were seated in front of him, on the other side of the desk âI told you it was just a dumb joke but you insisted on that testâ you retorted not wanting to be accused of wasting his precious time, even if he seemed to be fine with it. âI know I just wanted to make sure of some thingsâ he says vaguely with a dismissive wave as he reads the report Grayson had delivered, and as if on cue Grayson poked his head inside the office âdoctor zayne I took the liberty to ask for equipment maintenanceâ He says.
âThank you dr.Graysonâ
âYeah I mean after those inaccurate result of miss hunter I thought it was appropriate to do so, it be a miracle for her heart to be in that great shape in such-â
âYou can leave dr. Graysonâ
The other doctors cheeked flushed as he mumbles out apology and steps outside. You sat there, still. Surely Dr. Zayne is too smart for your bullshit right he can obviously see through it. Panic bubbles inside your heart again but before you could even formulate your next move he spoke up.
âYou should get back to work tooâ zayne says, making you look back at him âI have ... .things to doâ.
âRight! Yes, of courseâ you sat up from your seat hastily turning towards the door âsee- see you on my next appointmentâ you said finding yourself to be looking forward to seeing him again, to revive that kind of care and attention again, one you only thought happened in fantasyâŠwell you were living in one now.
Zayne lip curled into a slight smile, observant eyes softening in to tenderness.Â
âSooner then that I hopeâ the way he says it make your heart soar and you couldn't help but grin back âyes, of courseâ
As you exited the room, you noticed a movement zayne hunched over putting your recent test report in the paper shredder
â-
You had just stepped outside the hospital feeling giddy, the Sunshines on your skin spread in warmth over your body, there was a skip in your step as you walked. This wasn't as bad as you thought you could enjoy it till you woke up back in your world right? No harm in that, sure it will be hard to leave them butâŠ.
Your train of thoughts vanishes when an eerie feeling creeps up your back, that feeling of female intuition that puts you on high alert.
You are being watched.
You look up and around to see any signs of a mechanical crow but there was none. Hell you even retraced your step to make sure but there was no sign of anybody following.
âCaleb you sexy freak if that's you I swearâŠâ you mumble as you continue in your direction before your phone buzzes. Captain Jenna had given you a day off. Apparently it was the doctor's order? But did not zayne just tell you to go back to work?
You decide to text zayne and ask why but a car, a gorgeous one at that, stopped right beside you followed by rather loud honking. You couldn't believe you couldn't escape catcallers even in a fictional world. You were going to ignore like always but of course that was not how it was going to go. âHey cutie get in!â If it weren't for that voice you would not have looked up in its direction
âRafayelâ you gasped, the sight in front of you almost had you on your knees in broad daylight. âThe one and onlyâ the unfairly gorgeous man replies, pink pouty lips quirked in a smirk, well aware of your sinful admiration. âNow stop gawking, it's getting embarrassing, miss bodyguardâ that playful lilt in his voice made your heart skip a beat, âget in now, we have places to beâ he didn't even have to use his siren song to lure you into his ocean of secrets.
You got in his car without a single question, the soft face that glowed like a polished pearl under the sunlight made you forget all about those creepy feelings. âWhere do we need to be?â You ask after pinching the underside of your leg to get hold of yourself.
âTsk, don't tell me you have already forgotten? Weren't we going to find those corals that are going extinct? I need those pinkish pigments and only they have the right one, ah my miss bodyguard doesn't like me as much as I like her if she forgets so easilyâ he pouts.
Oh those lips. Its illegal not to kiss them right then and there
You are more than willing to get into another fatal accident, consequences be damned.
âWell I guess it's your luck then, I just got a day offâ you chuckle looking outside at the view. Rafayel glances at you. Those gorgeous galaxy eyes taking your appearance neatly seated in his car. âmhm, super convenientâ he says one hand one the steering as he guides the car smoothly on the roads of Linkon.
Something in his tone unsettled you and you turned back to look at him, he was whistling without a care in the world, those mischievous eyes on you again âcan't get enough me huh cutie?â He says teasingly and your guards crumbled down before you could even get them up. âyou know you look differentâ rafayel beams as the color drains out of your face. You fidget in your seat and open your mouth.
âYou look so much more prettier now cutie, so livelyâ
His gaze lingers on you, seeing your cheeks flushed âI'd rather just spend my day looking at you instead of gathering coralâ he sighs in a very dramatic fashion.
âFlattererâ you grumble, having a one sided beef with your treacherous heart for going absolutely crazy for him.
âAs it takes you everywhereâ he replies with a wink in your direction.
â-
âRafayel? What corals would we find hereâ you said motioning at the small cafe in front of you. The sign said Destiny Cafe cafe but something was wrong. Why was it so far from the main city and in the middle of nowhere?Â
You had fallen asleep since rafayel said it was quite far away, mostly because you did not trust yourself with that pretty boy.
So imagine your surprise when he stops the car in front of the lonesome cafĂ©.Â
âRelax cutie, we are Just making a pit stopâ rafayel dismisses your concern. âWe-well okay but-â you wanted to speak but was interrupted by his ringing phone. The purple haired man groaned at the name displayed, it was Thomas.
âTell you what cutie, why don't you head in and get us a table and I'll be right there with you okayâ his soft but callused hand pats your head, pretty eyes on you conveying his desire to not let you go even for a moment, you have had seen them so many times, but this intensity was real, a first. You could go through all his cards and chapters but still wouldn't find the look he was giving you now.Â
This one right here was just for you. this aching desire was not animated, it was and unadulterated. A man who waited enough.
And that scared you.
âAlrightâ you speak softly, his soft hand trailed down to cup your cheek, a breath too long and you would have reduced to putty, easy to mold, to be sculpted by his artistic hands anyway he likes.
â
You enter the near empty cafe, aesthetic all it looked the same as the game giving a sense of calm. There was only one guy who was sitting with his back to you, you saw the lack of staff and was quite confused.
through the window you could see Rafayel in heated discussion flailing his arms around in such animated way that had you giggling âoh he is definitely the cutestâ you say and not a second later a heavy arm drapes around your shoulder.
âWhat was that pipsqueak?â
You jumped turning to face those amethyst eyes that took your breath away. âCaleb?!?â You were happy to see him but also panicked because Rafayel was just outside. They weren't supposed to meet, at least not yet, you don't exactly remember where the game was but not here!.
âWhat are you doing here Caleb?â You ask him stepping away I front of him, a lame attempt to block his view of the merman thay was currently throwing a tantrum of some kind. âAye come on pips are seriously gonna ask me that? it's our go to place we always meet here don't we?â His voice was playful and teasing but you did notice the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, screamed he knew something more than he should.
âI-I mean yeah but like i just didnt thought I'd bump into you todayâ you try to cover it up somehow. Caleb chuckles patting your head âI know but I am so glad to see you anywayâ you had a revelation that you were actually a slut for those so you couldn't help but blush and look away to clear your throat in an attempt to not look completely pathetic. Unaware how his eyes darkened the moment crimson hues spread on your soft cheeks, âlook at me pipsâ he says, he says his voice was breathy and caught you off guard when you look at him, those purple eyes you adored bore something far more primal then just adoration âuh ye-yes?â. He says nothing, just cups your face with both hands and squishes it ever so gently his hands felt kind of rough in a manly sort of way. âCaleb~â you whine making the man in front of you break out that teasing playful smile, he sighs âyou are actually so warm and softâ he says, and no, nobody blames you for blushing as hard as were right now because who wouldn't if they were being cradled with such gentle affection.
âThank youâ you mumble and he only squishes your face harder making you whine again, you grab his wrist and pry his hand away from your face, hot or not he was still a strangerâŠwe'll kind off.
You turned back to look at Rafayel, anxious once you see him ending the call âwell Caleb don't you have things to do I don't know colonel thingsâ you try to push a very amused Caleb away. âNone actually I specially made time for my little pipsqueakâ he says, and now you just felt bad trying to push him away,buy it quickly died when Rafayel turned around making his way to the cafe, it was clear he too had seen Caleb now âoh no..â You spoke softly bracing yourself to whatever awkward situation that was to come.
âCutie I turned my back for a minute and you are already paying attention to some other manâ Rafayel spoke calmly as he approached the two of you standing right next to you one armed draped over your shoulder. Rafayel did not looked too pleased.
Rafayel regarded the man with a nod that he returned, am in the midst of the pretty boy standoff you caught on to the air of familiarity between them.
âAh yes rafayel this is Calebâ you say awkwardly pointing at the dark haired man.
Both of them turned to you now, a spark of mischief mixed with adoration they look back at each other Caleb extending out his hand âhi I am Caleb her friend nice to meet yaâ he said barely controlling that grin, AND so was rafayel âhello Caleb I am Rafayel also her friendâ. He says shaking Caleb's hand.
You weren't stupid you could see it so clearly that they knew each other. But why? How? Canonically it should be right.
âAh by any chance you guys know each other?â you ask only earning a pat as a response from Caleb. His large hand goes to the back of your neck to pull up towards him. âWell you see rafayel I WAS having conversation with my pipsqueak so if you could excuses us-â he tries to pry you away only for rafayel to not budge âno I brought my cutie here and I suggest we sit downâ he says sounding far more serious then he had been â you know whatever you have to say to her you can say it in front of meâ at this point you were getting worried again because it didn't seem right.
Caleb's eyes narrowed down again âit's unfair you had her for the whole ride feom the hospit till here I get to have some time with Y/N too before-â
Your blood ran cold, it shouldn't be that name he should call, you weren't listening to what they were saying anymore, that wasn't your name in the game. It was something else, a nickname you had but not your real legal name no! âWhat did you call me?â You ask softly, simply. Their attention was on you again.
Panicked, both of them. The sight blared alarms in your head, something was wrong. âHow did you know he picked me up from the hospitalâ you stepped away from rafayel, creating some space. Rafayel muttered something under his breath, Caleb looked solemn âwell cutie-â rafayel was interrupted.
âAlways the quick one to pick on things aren't you little detectiveâ Caleb says casually with an under current of intensity. Rafayel seemed just as uneasy as you âwhat the hell do you mean Calebâ you glare at the man much taller than you. âCalebâ rafayel says in a warning tone, the tension only thickens as the seconds go by âof save it sardines, she is bound to know that's why we brought her here, you brought her hereâ.
Something inside your stomach churned âI asked what the fuck.is going on!â You asked again, this time louder disguising your fear as anger.
âNow now y/n no need to be fussy, you know it and we know it so let's drop all this playing by the storyline alrightâ Caleb tries to approach you cautiously only to be pushed away. âAll you are doing is scaring her Caleb, get a gripâ the slightly shorter guy held him back by his arm, you could see how desperate he was to reach out again but he didn't, for once Caleb listened solely because how you looked at them right now, threatened.
âRemember what the doc said, we need to ease it inâ Rafayels words did something to him and he nodded.
 âAlright if you two are done having a moment can we talk about the fact you know we are in a game!!!â you cried out, the same force of panic takes over you, the dizzying feeling you had when you were at the apartment standing I front of the TV screen âsee this is why zayne told us to break it down easy and together in his presenceâ rafayel snapped at Caleb who only looked guilty âyou know she tends go spiralâ now it was Rafayels turn to pale AMD shut his mouth looking horrified âoh very smart and you had been scolding me!â Caleb hissed at him as you staggered back âhow would you know thatâ you asked. Not really sure if you could even bare to learn how âpipsqueak-â he tries to reach out only for you to step back, only to bump into something firm yet warm, Xavier.Â
âI knew it shouldn't have been me bringing you hereâ he was addressing you while glaring at the two men in front of him.Â
Before you can register that he was now here as well the doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of another figure, zayne.
âthere seems to be tension around hereâ his eyes were quick to find you, icy demeanor changing into one of concern âyou look unwellâ he states approaching you with hurried steps but you dodged him, stepping away from Xavier and shoving past rafeyl, sending the guy straight into Caleb's arm.
The cafe was pretty small you had nowhere to run, the only place your desperate legs took you was behind the cafe counterâŠas if that would do something.
âStay back I don't as in DO NOT want to be near any of you right now!â You say quivering.
âTake it easy dear you are alright but I need you to take a deep breath for meâ zayne says stepping forward with her hand stretched out as if tending a skittish animal. âI will just stay away!â You say urging him to get back, zayn understood and stops his pursuit âalright this isn't how I wanted to do this, but since someone forgot to give Caleb the wrong time we have to have this conversation like thisâ zayne speaks, his words pointed at his irritation towards Caleb who just scoffed âas if you can outsmart meâ he grumbled but was ignored.
âare you aware you are in the game Love and deep spaceâ the doctor asks
âYes, are you aware you are part of the said gameâ you answered along with the question of your own.
a beat of silence, âyesâ the doctor answers the rest nods.
Before the conversation could continue there was a sound akin to mechanical purr the halts every one and make you climb a random shelf.
âHe is hereâ Xavier announces. While zayne breathes a sigh of relief, Rafayel and Caleb groan and roll their eyes.
âOh the party started without me? Tsk how meanâ deep silky voice, dipped in lust and pleasure booms through the cafe.
Red cunning eyes on you, mirth comes alive in them as he sees you on that shelf, annoyed. skittish and oh so very adorable.
âAh would you look at that, a real life kitten.â
â
You looked at the five men standing in front of you.
Xavier, the prince, the neighbor. Stands tall desmour wrapped in polished manners and elegance.Â
Rafayel, the merman, the artist. Effortless grace and elegance tainted with worry.
Caleb, the fallen soldier, the childhood friend. If strength and intensity was a person it was him.
Zayne, the messenger, the doctor. Stands there radiating aura of serenity AND Reliability.
Last but definitely not the least.Â
Sylus, the dragon, the underworld lord and ally. A beautiful combination of power and passion.
And then there was you.
Simple and unremarkable you.
â
âSo let me get this straightâ you spoke after a whole session of zayne breaking down the reality to you, as all six of you sit together on the table, three table joined together so that the five stupidly large men can sit on one side and you the other since you refused to sit with any of them. It looked like you were being interviewed by a board of something elite, a modeling agency or by a network of powerful men looking for disposable minion.
âyou are telling me that you have been Aware of your existence as a game character way before the accidentâ you say.
âPreciselyâ sylus says taking over the conversation after zayne. Rafayel and Caleb were still not allowed to talk. Xavier made sure of that.
âYou were spying on me?â Your tone was accusatory. âNo that's not it, we could only interact when you logged in on the gameâ sylus says casually but something in your heart wasn't convinced. âStill why didnt you make me aware should have said something in the chats we had anythingâ frustration was evident in your tone.
âOh be for real you wouldn't have beloved us cutieâ rafayel said only for Xavier's palm to cover his mouth âwhat did we say, no talking till she truly gets the entirety of her situationâ.
Sylus ignored all that and continued âits true you would have thought its the game talking, and well you wouldn't have suspected itâŠyou know since the beta testing updateâ sylus ads carefully his he looked laid back but he was ready. To take action if needed. âWaitâŠno do not tell meâ your eyes widen met with sheepish grins
Oh you should have known.
That fucking Beta testing team invite
Of fucking course.
It had started simple, like glitches and bugs. Them acting weird, almost skittish, mc completely glitching out and the LIs acting out of character. They started from looking actually offended at you constant touches to being amused. Quality time becomes a bit more intimate as they tend to stare a lot. The text box got specific ie AND diverse in responses. Something that wasn't happening to others.
Until one day, the game completely blacks out and shuts down for days. Would not even uninstall. You were worried since you had spent a lot of time and money on that game and did not want to lose the progress. And of course that unhealthy attachment to the guys themselves. You emailed Infold, but never heard back.
Just when you lost hope the game was back up new and improved!
When you launched it all happy and giddy you revived an official notice inside the game to become the super VIP beta tester, a compensation for causing you worry.
You signed the fuck up.
It came with an NDA and you did not care. This was the best compensation ever!
And the feature? Whew now you can have actual chat with the LIs! And interact with them FOR REAL.
Technology am I right?!?!
If you only knewâŠ.
___
âSo I wasn't talking to mindless bots but actually you guysâ you exasperated AMD earned solmem nods.
âI know it's a lot to take in, that's why I, as your official doctor, suggested we should give you a day or two.â zayne sys only to be shut down by Xavier âno she is here in a new world the sooner she is aware of her situation the better or it could be dangerousâ he says.
âI actually agree with the bunny for once.â Caleb saysÂ
âOkay no one asked you Buckyâ rafayel cuts in between earning a glare from the purpled-eyed man who was quick to grab his collar.
âalright that's enoughâ syylus says With a finality in his tone as he gets up âshe had enough excitement for one day look how pale she isâ he said motioning towards you.
âNo I am okay, I need more answers. I am not done with my questioningâ you say, as stubborn as always. âHow did I get here? Where is mc? what am I supposed to-Mmphâ zayne silenced you with a pastry he produced from who knows where.
âAll your questions will be answered one by one please take care of your health for now, sylus is right you have enough excitement for one dayâ he says also standing up, the rest naturally followed.
The doctor's keen eyes could already see the protest forming on your lips.
âYou will be no help to yourself if you are sickly, you don't work well after burn outâ he says, making your words die in your mouth, this guy actually knew you.
They actually knew you.
âSo what nowâ she asked awkwardly âam I like? MC now? Do I fight wanderes?â
âNopeâ
âYou don't have tooâ
âAbsolutely not I have seen your skills, subpar at bestâ
âif you really want to feel the thrill of taking a life I can arrange that in a controlled environment sweetieâ
They all glared at Sylus who only had a casual smirk on his face, ready to fulfill any of your whims.
Xavier who had yet to comment moved close to you, his warm hand and pretty blue eyes brought you sort of calmness you had felt only so rarely âI get it starlight, you feel overwhelmed and all I have requested few days off on your behalf from the quarters take it fully process everythingâ once again you felt your body relax in his presence âthank you Xavier I promise I will do my best to be a good hunterâ no way in hell you are going to sit around and to nothing when you have a chance to kick ass.
 âOkay romeo step backâ AMD suddenly rafayel was in the middle of you two. âI just want to let you know you don't have to stress to much we are not connected to the game anymore, we have separate ourselves from the mainframe and there is nothing you should be worried about doing all that battle and stuffâ he says âthank you rafayel but I kind of want to, but I'd be carefulâ she says and he only nods knowing you won't change your mind.
âso this uhm- world is separated from the rest of the game?â You ask to clarify and Caleb was the one who answered âyep realized, we can't truly communicate with you until and unless we have been separate out entirely so we rewrote the whole thingâ he says and you won't deny it sounded impressive âwow the whole thing? Thats kinda cool that you did thatâ
âFor you sweetie, anythingâ voice belonging to sylus spoke, suddenly from behind you. His words had you blushing hard. The man before you smiled âand here I thought I'd never actually get to see itâ caleb, sighs his head tilted as he just studies you from his place.
You had to clear your throat to calm the Raving butterflies in your stomach. âERM so like no updates and allâ you tried to steer back the topic to safe yourself further embarssment âmhm noneâ
âSo what about the 6th LIâ
Your words caused a heavy silence and instant regret, they looked mildly offended and mostly pitiful. Except for zayne who just deadpans giving you a once over âwhy? Are five men not enough to sate you?â
Somebody delete me right now.
You were so flustered and embarrassed you choked on your words dissolving the tension into amusement. Cursing yourself in your head you began walking towards the door to escape.
âYou know what I should go it's late I am kind of tired and hungry and like Xavier said I really need to like process and all so like yeah thanks for the meltdown-I mean breakdown I guess I will see you around-â you were cut off you bumped straight into the glass door, none of the guys bothered to even shuffle their laugh, even zayne grinned at the sight âI wish I could just delete myselfâ you grumbleÂ
âYou aren't going anywhere kitten, you don't even know where we are or how to get backâ sylus says grabbing his leather jacket and helmet âI'll drop you, besides Mondays are mineâ he says smugly making Caleb groan âI did not agree to that time tableâ he sya âno one cares, the rest didâ zayne replies, which made him huff.
âWait what time tableâ you asked
âWe came up with a time table we each get to hang out with you without the interruption from othersâ sylus answered âMonday is mineâ.
âI got Tuesdayâ rafayel says âso tommorw I'll show you my painting and you can tell me how much you love themâ he says sound genuinely excited and you couldn't help but match the energy.
âI got Wednesday since thats when I have normally nothing scheduledâ zayne says âthat day is reserved entirely for you nowâ he says making you feel warmÂ
âI got Thursday, nobody likes Thursdayâ Caleb says huffing again and you couldn't help but grin at his petulant look âI would like Thursday if I get to spend it with youâ the moment you said it you witnessed a grown man turned into a puppy before he could wag his tail Xavier cuts him off âAnd I hot Friday!â he said ânot for any particular reason but because you on time said it was your favorite dayâ he says and you could obviously see what he was trying to do.
You smiled at them already feeling better while being surrounded by their genuine adoration for you. One that couldn't be fake âoh youâŠI can't believe I am almost glad I slipped into comaâ you say chuckling to your self unaware of the wave of unease and confusion the washed over them but before they could speak zayne reaches out to pat your head âgo with sylus and rest okayâ he says, changing the topic instantly âyeah pipsqueak get some restâ even Caleb joined in on it, and Sylus did not waste a second to guide you out to his bike.
âSo she doesn't knowâ.

CHAPTER 3: THE VESSEL.
oh look at you, such a pretty flower. So easy to pluck from the root planted into another. I won't deny it was so delicious to see you crumble, so ridiculous to see you fascinated and absolutely hilarious to see you flustered. Such entertainment.
For me
Sweet girl, do you love it? Bathing in their attention, just as you oh so desperately wanted, hmm. Are you happy now? Far from your world and into the unknown, does that make that heart of yours fill with excitement.
Finally, finally you are important. Something that can not be overlooked. something actually needed.
You wanted to be me! Isn't that what your ungrateful self wanted? To ditch the life you had and be pixelated. Wasn't it fun to play with me? Use me and then be fucking envious of me? Your vessel.
I guess you should thank me for fulfilling your dream.
To make you so important for a world that it would die without you. Well now you have it, it's now your burden to bear.
I could have just let you goâŠ
Let that pathetic life end right there. What good did you make of it anyway, if all you end up doing was be jealous pixelated one? Likes of you don't deserve the gift of free will. It should have been me instead.
I wanted to know what freedom tastes like, what it's like to do things on your own accord, to have full control of your body, to speak what you must but no.
All I got was scripted words to repeat, forced interaction with those mumbling fools who somehow fell for you, why?
just because you were real? With real laughter, real joy and real tears?.
As your perfect vessel who had it all I brought you here on this plane of existence, with my resonance and energy manipulation borrowed from the glorified lizard. I held on to that soul, energy so strong and powerful that for a moment all I wanted was to have it all to myself.
My freedom.
My body.
My words.
Sucks that I couldn't, not entirely at least, but it did help me tear away from this suffocating existence, reducing me toâŠ
Hah!
I am still nothing.
Fuck !
There is a price to pay for every wish, and when the time comes I will be back to collect the penance.
Because I deserve it, I get to have my entertainment too. Now we both can play together.

AN: dang its long. Anyways I hope you like it I have currently so many ideas hoi g through my brain right now, there us so much I want to do with it. The fic is inspired by the follow I g idea I had. Hopefully you like it, ideas AMD criticism are welcome if its constructive and creative.
#love and deepspace#lads#lads rafayel#l&ds rafayel#lads xavier#love and deepspace zayne#l&ds#rafayel#lads meme#doctor zayne#lads fanfic#lads x non!mc reader#lads angst#lads smut#sylus x reader#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds caleb#lads caleb#love and deepspace caleb#caleb x reader#caleb love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#xavier x reader#xavier#isekai#sylus
214 notes
·
View notes
Text
my contribution to society for today
#homestuck#vriska serket#art#jerma jumpscare#somebody would have made this joke before...#ibis paint x
251 notes
·
View notes
Text
I canât believe people assign Kaveh the yandere trope sometimes like that is SO ooc he literally wouldnât ?! I mean I personally donât care if he is or isnât but canonically speaking bro let his own mother whom he loved so dearly to leave FOR HER SAKE even though he was so hurt by her going ⊠he would not trap somebody like he would probably end up killing himself from guilt like are you serious đ
#dora daily#âčïž#pls why am I making myself so sad in the early morning âŠ#I joke abt me being yandere for him but omg yall i would notttttt đ#weâre both of too weak of a character to impose ourselves onto someone#the moment I feel like Iâm not liked enough no matter if this person is an extra organ to me idc Iâm distancing for their sake#this is why it annoys me when ppl say Kaveh would do this Kaveh would do that#HE WOULDNT ?!! like you need to know his personality SUPER well and usually the way to be that knowledgeable is by experiencing it first han#hand* like istg not to sound weird BUT NOBODY GETS HIM LIKE I DO đ itâs almost disturbing how similar we are like srsly#from the thesis between him and alhaitham to the fallouts to the all consuming guilt and shame ALL THE TIME#I always feel guilty like at a certain point the fact I existed made me sick with guilt and shame#thereâs actually sooo many more similarities that are way more intricate rather than these generic details#my mum would hate his gutsssss btw icl she would be one of those prolific Kaveh haters#honestly I wouldnât be surprised if she was one of those ppl who say he has stds âŠ.#like ik how my mum would react to him bc she reacts that way to me she mocks me for how I think of other ppl before myself đ« #not that I think Iâm great not at all I promise nobody hates me more than I do myself â ïž#but yeah#POINT IS : kaveh isnât a yandere and never would be#ty for coming to my ted talk#all these fics abt him killing ur best friend or him locking you imprisoning you in the house#Etc etc ⊠NAH if I wanted somebody like my mum I could literally stay under my mums care forever#but if you wanna know idc if he hypothetically snapped and became a yandere and started acting like my mum ? đ ID HAPPILY OBLIGE !!!#like idm technically being stuck here in this house as much anymore and having everything monitored for me#bc Iâm just so miserable abt this condition that Iâve accepted it#at least Iâd have him with me đđ#perfect victim forreal đ LMAO SORRY Iâm just coping with how sick / neg this life of mine is â ïž
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
"creature of myth."



pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, itâs too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+Â ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as âsinfulâ, very minor religious themes, fated âmatesâ, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the âSAY IT, SAY ITâ. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)
You remember perfectly the way your motherâs jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. Youâd never seen the man, and you still hadnât. Heâd asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things heâd be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. Youâd thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. Youâd only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the manâs suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.Â
Youâd asked for proof nonetheless, and youâd gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didnât surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes⊠âhauntingâ said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return⊠changedâ if they returned at all.Â
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering⊠why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but youâd never get it.Â
Your wedding wasnât even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and⊠that was that. You were married.Â
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them youâve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.Â
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you canât bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldnât even show his face for your wedding.Â
The carriage ride is somehow longer than youâd thought it would be- apparently, the castleâs size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think youâve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.Â
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. Itâs⊠terrifying.Â
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.Â
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castleâs peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but itâs not from the cold.Â
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your familyâs annual income.Â
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you donât belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?Â
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than youâve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than youâve ever dreamed of.Â
âPull this if you need any sort of assistance, maâam.âÂ
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume itâs one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servantsâ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- youâve never seen one in real life before.Â
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. âThank you, um-â you pause, your brow furrowing. âIâm sorry, I donât think I asked your name.âÂ
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like heâd never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. âThomas, maâam.â
You smile and itâs genuine. âThank you, Thomas.âHe bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. âOh, um, Thomas-â He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.Â
âYes, my lady?âÂ
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and⊠wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. âDo you know, um, well-â You shift, trying to word your question properly. âDo you know when I might see the Lord?âÂ
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. âNo, my lady.â
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.Â
Youâre stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to⊠consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When heâs over you?Â
You sigh. Thereâs nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- itâs going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and donât fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. Youâre tired. You didnât sleep much last night, anxious for the morning⊠and itâs only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself itâs a bad idea and then youâre swept away into a world of warm darkness.Â
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that itâs dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like youâve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you donât remember it. Perhaps thatâs a blessing.Â
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didnât walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. Theyâre worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, theyâre all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.Â
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect youâll be sore for many days to come.Â
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. Youâve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family⊠then youâd pay it gladly.Â
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually⊠black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when youâve finished it doesnât feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.Â
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that itâs still warm, you conclude that it canât be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.Â
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.Â
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly⊠amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort⊠Your hand brushes purple silk and-Â
âDo you like them?âÂ
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin⊠you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. Heâs your husband⊠and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing youâve ever seen.Â
He laughs, then, and itâs a warmer sound than youâd thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.Â
âSorry. Didnât mean to scare you,â he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps thatâs a lie.Â
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. Itâs shut. You didnât hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didnât hear footsteps, didnât hear breaths, didnât hear him.Â
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit⊠strained?Â
âI have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.âÂ
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. âYou must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.âÂ
Thereâs a beat, and then footstepsâ ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.Â
âSatoru, please,â he winks and you think you might stop breathing. âI am your husband after all.âÂ
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like⊠that? Thereâs something too unreal about him, too perfect. Itâs almost⊠unsettling.Â
âOf course⊠Satoru.âÂ
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.Â
âSo, do you like them?â Your brows furrow- âThe dresses,â he clarifies.Â
âO-oh.â Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You donât think youâve ever touched something so⊠finely made. âI like them very much. I donât know how to thank you.âÂ
Thereâs a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. Heâs mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes foreverâŠÂ
âNo need to thank me. If they donât fit, weâll call for the seamstress in the morning.âÂ
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. Thereâs a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but⊠look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
âDid you⊠get dinner?â Itâs a stupid question, you know, but you donât think you can bear another second of that look heâs giving you. âI fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didnât prevent a proper mealâŠâ You trail off. Perhaps you shouldnât have pointed out your own shortcoming?Â
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. âYou did no such thing. Iâm⊠perfectly satisfied.âÂ
You nod, glad that he doesnât seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. Youâve never had a husband before. Wasnât he supposed to just sort of⊠put you on the bed and⊠do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.Â
âWell, Iâll see you in the morning then, hm?â His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. âWear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.â He chuckles like heâs just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was⊠not the topic youâd been expecting. âYouâre notâŠâ You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. âNot staying the night?âÂ
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You donât think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesnât stop until youâre nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. Itâs cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.Â
âNot tonight.âÂ
His head dips and for a moment you think heâs going to kiss you, but then heâs bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.Â
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then heâs gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.Â
âGoodnight,â is all he says, and then heâs gone.Â
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.Â
~Â Â
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, youâd only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and directâ you would have remembered sending your measurementsâ you didnât. So had he just⊠guessed?Â
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.Â
When you join Satoru for breakfast itâs in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more⊠liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever heâs drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps heâs just not a breakfast person.Â
âIt fits!â he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.Â
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. âYes, perfectly.â
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals itâs Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.Â
âI hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?âÂ
You glance up, but Satoruâs eyes arenât on you, theyâre on your footman. His smile is bright, but itâs anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.Â
You glance at Thomas. Heâs perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. âY-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.â When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, â-and very respectful.âÂ
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. âPerfect.âÂ
Thereâs a beat and then heâs standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. âWell, I have some work to do. Iâll see you for dinner?â Heâs grinning again, like itâs so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. âSee you then, princess.â And then heâs gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. Itâs like he fears coming too close. Heâs never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan⊠and no Satoru. You donât see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You donât see so much as a ripple in the curtains.Â
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When itâs finally time to get dressed a ladyâs maid whose name you donât even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough sheâs back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that youâve yet to step foot in.Â
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the placeâ filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think youâve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoruâs already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.Â
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. âHow was your day?â you ask as he takes his seat again.Â
He chuckles. âPerfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?â Your nose crinkles. Thatâs the second time heâs called you that. Something about it feels wrong. Youâre still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.Â
âIt was⊠good.â
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. âOh? Just good?â You donât miss the way his eyes flicker to the cornerâ to Thomas.Â
You hurry to elaborate. âWell, I justâ I canât help but feel as if thereâs not much⊠use for me.â Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.Â
That brow arches impossibly higher. âUse?â His lips crack into that smile again, but itâs tight this time. Too tight. âYou have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.âÂ
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell canât quell the sudden dread in your gut. âOf course! Of course he did.â Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. âIâll just⊠Iâll try riding tomorrow.â You hate riding, but itâs the first thing that comes to mind.Â
Satoruâs smile thaws into something less menacing. âIâm sure youâll enjoy that.âÂ
You nod eagerly. âIâm sure I will.âÂ
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though itâs the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
Itâs not until several bites later that you realize youâre the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. Heâs only⊠watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.Â
âYouâre not⊠eating?â
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you canât help but feel as if thereâs something⊠menacing about it. âAte before I came.âÂ
Your brows furrow. âOh. Were you on the road?âÂ
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. âNo.âÂ
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesnât eat a bite, doesnât even look enticed. You wonder how thatâs possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.Â
By the time youâve cleared your plate youâve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. Itâs comforting to know a little more about your new home, but itâs not enough.Â
âIs there a library?â you ask. Youâre on dessert now. Itâs the best chocolate cake youâve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.Â
âOf course.â Your husbandâs eyes flicker to Thomas again and youâre honestly starting to fear for the poor footmanâs life. Everytime you ask a question itâs like Satoru is angry it hasnât already been answered. âItâs yours to use as you please.âÂ
You smile lightly. âPerfect. Thank you.âÂ
He softens a bit at that. âIs there anything specific you wanted to read about?âÂ
You shrug. âThe estate, I suppose. I should know my homeâs history, no?â
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. âOh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. Iâll leave them aside for you?âÂ
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. âThat would be perfect. Thank you.âÂ
He chuckles. âMy pleasure.âÂ
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoruâs not far behind you, saying heâll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?Â
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, youâre thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but⊠off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?Â
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. âWill you stay with me tonight?âÂ
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.Â
âNot tonight,â he whispersâ and then heâs gone.Â
~
You wake suddenly. Itâs the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.Â
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.Â
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, youâd rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. Itâs sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.Â
The books Satoru left you are⊠perfect. Just what you were looking for. Theyâre all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. Youâre stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo familyâs influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of informationâ but thereâs one book that doesnât fit with the rest. Itâs relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads âCreatures of Myth and Where To Find Themâ. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the sideâ must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servantsâ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you canât figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?Â
You decide itâs a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crownâs ego. The estimates of your husbandâs net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. Itâs⊠unsettling to say the least. Itâs always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.Â
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but youâve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. Youâve nothing better to do, right?Â
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. âCreatures of Myth and Where to Find Themâ. You donât recognize the authorâs name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.Â
Itâs fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying youâve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblinsâ all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. âVampires [Vampyr]â.Â
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.Â
âContrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.âÂ
You purse your lips. What a⊠terrifying thought. You skim a little further.Â
âA vampireâs key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampireâs body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teethâ.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.Â
âVampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.âÂ
Your stomach drops. You donât want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.Â
âVampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a humanâs predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampireâs strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.â
You skip ahead again.
âVampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mateâs safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.â
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperateâ desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the âWhere to Find Themâ subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?Â
âVampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.âÂ
No, no, no. This canât be happening to you. It canât be real. Youâre dreaming, youâre having one of those nightmares again. Youâre going to wake up any second.Â
âOne tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.âÂ
Youâre panting, hyperventilating. This isnât happening.Â
âSoldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his familyâs characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.âÂ
No, no, no.Â
â(See next page for only existing portrait)â
Your fingers tremble but you canât stop them. Thereâs no way. Itâs not possible.Â
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.Â
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but youâre not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.Â
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. Youâre suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.Â
âHello,â he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.Â
You force a breath into your lungs. âHello,â you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.Â
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. âAre you alright? You seem a little⊠flushed.â The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.Â
âIâm fine,â you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. âIs it time for dinner? Whereâs Thomas?âÂ
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. âThomas has⊠left us.âÂ
No. This wasnât happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.Â
âHe⊠what?â Thereâs an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoruâs face to fall further.Â
âItâs no matter. Heâs gone. Now itâs just you and me, hm?â He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. âIn fact, I was thinking Iâd cut down on the number of servants we have entirelyâŠâÂ
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didnât have. âVampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mateâs safety is usually disposed of quickly.â
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
âWhat have you been up to today, princess?â The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husbandâs eyes flicker behind you.Â
You wet your lips. âJust some reading.â You plead that he doesnât ask anything further. He does.Â
âAbout the estate?â he asks.Â
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. âYes.â
His smile returns and this time itâs not forced. âYou got my books, then?âÂ
You try smiling back, but youâre fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. âYes.â
âAnything interesting?â he presses.
This isnât happening. This canât be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? âYes, of course. Lots.âÂ
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think itâs the first time youâve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. âI think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.â
You donât even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until heâs shutting your door behind him. He doesnât stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and youâre falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
âWho knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time⊠You must be simply spilling with information.âÂ
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. Youâre trapped.
His hands find your hips and youâre all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
âSatoru-â your voice is pitiful, breathless, and youâre ashamed to say itâs not just from the fear in your gut. Heâs never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. âThomas-âÂ
âDonât speak his name.â His face pulls into the first scowl youâve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. Itâs wrong. âHeâs gone. Heâll never bother you again.â Heâs closer now, his breath skating over your skin. Itâs cool and now you know the reason why.Â
You shake and tremble and you knowâ Thomas is dead. Your husband killed himâ killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.Â
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. âThought I could put up with it, just so youâd have someone to take care of youâŠâ He groans. âI was so wrong, princess. Couldnât stand it. Couldnât stand the way you smelled more like him than meâŠâÂ
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. âBut heâs gone. And now itâs just you and me, hm? Just you and meâŠâ He hums, like remembering that fact is all heâs ever needed.
Heâs kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. Heâs a killer, of thousands no doubt. Youâve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. Youâre not even the same species. Heâs something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.Â
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says⊠but you donât. You canât. Itâs too⊠good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what youâre sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse⊠itâs intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?Â
âHave you figured it out yet, love?â Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. âI can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?âÂ
He knows you know. But heâs going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. âYouâreâŠâ Your breaths come faster. You canât. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too⊠real.Â
âYessss?â he prods. Heâs licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.Â
âYouâre notâŠâ Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.Â
âGo on, princess.â You think heâs just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.Â
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. âNot human,â you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. âThatâs good,â he purrs. âBut I think you can be a little more specific, no?â His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw⊠âTell me.âÂ
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You donât want to say it, donât want to speak it into existence, but you also donât dare to disobey him.Â
âYouâre aâŠâ You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
âMhm?âÂ
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. âVampire.âÂ
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. âThatâs right, princess. So smart.âÂ
He smiles and you suddenly realize youâve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you itâs close-lipped and dimpled. But this⊠this is the smile of a predatorâ all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.Â
âShhhhh,â he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. âI wonât hurt you, love.â You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. âNot unless you want me to.â He wiggles a brow like itâs just a little joke, like heâs not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.Â
âSatoru,â you beg. Youâre not sure what youâre begging for. Release maybe? But, no, thatâs not right. You donât want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. âWhy did you pick me?âÂ
The question slips out. You hadnât even been thinking about it, hadnât even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in⊠thoughtfulness. âDo you think about that a lot, princess?âÂ
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.Â
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. âWellâŠâ he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. âAt first I wanted you for this.â His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. âYou smellâŠâ he chuckles. âLike heaven. Which is a place Iâll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?â He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. âWent into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.â Heâs still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. âWent crazy, princess. Didnât think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.â He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. âBut then I saw youââ he groans and something clenches deep at your center. âAnd I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.â Heâs rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. âWent to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldnât stay away. Knew I had to have you.â You feel him smile against your skin. âAfter a week I couldnât take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.â He groans again. âThen I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearinâ you talk to me, look at me.â Teeth graze your pulse. âNeeded you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookinâ at those dresses.â You whine when his hips roll into you again. âOh, but I knew I couldnât. Youâre so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, âfraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.â He panting, like heâs so pent up he can hardly sit still. âDo you trust me, princess?âÂ
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You canât. âYes,â you breathe.Â
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. âGood girl.âÂ
Youâre on your back. It happens so fast your eyes donât even have time to gasp. You donât see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. âSo good, princess. Letâs get you out of this dress, yeah?âÂ
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru canât seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.Â
âI always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,â he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.Â
âSatoru,â you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.Â
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. âYou wanna see me too?â You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. âAlright.âÂ
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like heâs been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.Â
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. Youâve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. Heâs art, you think- nothing less.Â
âTouch me, princess,â he says. You canât. You shouldnât. Heâs too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. âNeed a little help?â he asks, and thereâs a lilt in his voice that makes you sure heâs grinning.Â
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one⊠You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then heâs laughing again and heâs throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.Â
âNot so fast,â he says, like he wasnât the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and youâll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell heâsÂ
thinking the same thing. âYou touch me, now I touch you, yeah?â Thereâs a tug and a tear and then so much⊠cold. Youâve never realized how cold this castle is, not until youâre exposed to its elements fully. Youâre naked.Â
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. Itâs too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-Â
âNo.â Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. âLet me see you,â he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.Â
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. Thereâs silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that youâreâÂ
âBeautiful,â he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. âBeautiful,â he says again, and then heâs on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. Youâre not sure itâs entirely from his temperature.Â
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if heâs sucking your soul out through your lips. âTell me youâve never done this before,â he begs. âTell me Iâm the first to touch you.âÂ
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what heâs already giving you. âY-Youâre the first,â you whisper.Â
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. âYes,â he breathes, and you shiver again. âLie back, princess.â Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear youâre not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. âDonât worry. Iâll be gentle.âÂ
You pray he means that. âJust relax, love. Here, hold my hand.â His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like heâs committing you to memory, itâs nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.Â
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.Â
âTell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?â His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but itâs the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. Itâs shameful, itâs dirty, itâs- âDonât think Iâll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.âÂ
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. âY-yes,â you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.Â
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. âOn the outside or the inside?âÂ
Your eyes widen. I-inside? Youâd never considered that⊠âJ-just the outside,â you answer.Â
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. âWell, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?âÂ
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he meansâ his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. âSomebodyâs sensitive,â he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. âTry to stay still. I promise itâll feel good.â
You nod hopelessly, but this time youâre prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasnât your own. But then itâs more. Itâs languid, slow circles around a spot that youâve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. Itâs heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. Itâs relaxation that youâve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.Â
Thereâs a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. âGood girl. Feels nice, yeah?â You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. âItâs about to feel even nicer.âÂ
By the time you realize what heâs doing itâs far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but heâs got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. âStop that, princess.â Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. ïżœïżœïżœRock into me like this.â His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. âGood girl,â he says and your heart rises right back up. âKeep doing that, now.â You donât dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. âThatâs it, love,â he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. âHere, put your hand in my hair.â He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. Theyâre even softer than youâd imagined. âGood girl,â he whispers and suddenly heâs taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. ââM gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.â Your chin wobbles. âIt might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?â You canât do anything but nod.Â
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. âRelaaaaaax, love,â he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouthâÂ
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusionâ but itâs already too late. Thereâs a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then heâsâ laughing?Â
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoruâs hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated inâ blood, you realize. Your blood. And heâs a fucking vampire.Â
âOh princess,â he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. âYou really are perfect.âÂ
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. Youâre sure youâve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like heâs ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.Â
When he pulls his finger from his mouth itâs completely licked clean. You hold your breath. Heâs going to go for your neck now, right? Heâs had a taste and now heâll want more of it, all of it?
âFuck,â is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you donât even see him move.Â
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesnât bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. Heâs lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like youâre a fucking gold mine. Heâs lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.Â
Youâre not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You donât notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesnât fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.Â
âYes. Yes. Give it to me.âÂ
âS-Satoruââ you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any youâve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and thenâ you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you donât hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.Â
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before⊠well, there was no doubt any longer.Â
Thereâs a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and youâre suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, youâre not done.Â
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if heâs holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isnât working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.Â
âS-Satoruââ
âItâs alright, love.â His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. âJust stay still.âÂ
You whimper, but you donât think heâs paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.Â
Youâve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldnât help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurtâŠ
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. âGonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.â His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. âStay still, now.â
Itâs all the warning he gives you. You feel like youâre splittingâ straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.Â
âSatoru, p-please! ItâsââÂ
Lips catch yoursâ hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. Itâs too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but itâs no use. By the time heâs fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that youâve only just begun.
âGood girl,â he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. âTook me so well.â You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because heâs quick to comfort. âJust hold my hand, princess.â His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. Youâre panting as he chuckles. âBreathe, love. Breathe. Soon youâll be begging for more,â he laughs. Itâs not long before heâs rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first itâs all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then itâs⊠more. Itâs heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. Itâs sensation and⊠pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.Â
âFeel good, princess?â You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels goodâ it feels right. He chuckles, but thereâs nothing light about the sound. âWanna feel even better?â Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.Â
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. âJust a taste, love. I promise it wonâ hurt.â His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. âYouâll feel sâ good anâ Iâll only take a little.â He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. âPromise.â He sounds breathless, like heâs struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. âCome on, love. Say yes. Say yes fâ me.â Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. Heâs desperate now, seeking a release that you donât think is any kind youâre familiar with. âYes, yes, yes,â he chants in your ear. Youâre not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.Â
âYes,â you whisper.Â
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savageâ but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to⊠ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. Youâd thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesnât. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You donât want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.Â
Heâs moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.Â
âSatoruâŠâ You hadnât noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why⊠ââM gonnaâŠâÂ
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.Â
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. Itâs an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.Â
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. Heâs moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.Â
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. Thereâs a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You canât help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.Â
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You donât think youâll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.Â
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. âNo, princess.â He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. âI took more than I should haveâŠâ His expression doesnât tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. âBut what can I say? You just taste so good.â Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. âYou taste like mine.â
You whine. More, more, more. Itâs all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.Â
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.Â
âNot yet, princess.â he coos. âBut soon.â His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until youâre trembling again. âForever,â he whispers.
taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000
please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading âĄ
#gojo#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#satoru#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader smut#vampire gojo#vampire#tw: loss of virginity#tw: yandere#jujustu kaisen#gojo x you#bree's fics!
33K notes
·
View notes
Text
veritaserum - mattheo riddle
summary: when mattheo drinks veritaserum on a bet, he's confident he doesn't have anything to hide... until you show up.
word count: 3.1k
a/n: gosh i love this messy boy. just a little something sweet + fun!
"I don't know... shouldn't we save it for something... important?"
"Like, what Blaise?" Malfoy responded, exasperated.
"Yeah, got any plans you want to share?" Theo asked.
"All ears, bud" Mattheo joined in.
Blaise threw his hands up. "Fine, fuck it, do what you want with it" he said, resigned, referring to the small vial in Malfoy's hand that had the group's rapt attention as they huddled in the corner of their dormitory like they were first years at a sleepover.
"We should put it in somebody's goblet at dinner."
"We should slip it into Dumbledore's cup, Merlin knows what the geezer would say."
Theo got a wicked look on his face, "I'll give any of you lot 100 galleons to drink it."
Eyes widened around their circle at that.
"You're joking."
"Piss off."
"No, listen to me, we think we know everything about each other, don't we?" Theo continued, letting the sentiment linger "Which means the things we don't know are deep."
He grabbed the vial from Malfoy and dangled it in front of them; Veritaserum, the most powerful truth serum in the wizarding world, even having it in their possession was breaking about 15 Ministry laws.
Members of the group stared shiftily at one another, but Theo found Mattheo's gaze staring boldly at him as he leaned casually against his four-poster, a smirk on his face.
"Make it 200 and you've got yourself a deal" Mattheo grinned.
Snickers of laughter took the group as they punched one another in amusement and excitement.
"Bottoms up" Theo said, tossing the vial at him.
"I've got nothing to hide" Mattheo replied with an air of emblazoned confidence as he deftly popped the cork and threw the liquid back like a shot of firewhiskey before anyone could stop him.
It didn't taste like anything other than water, and for a moment Mattheo thought this was the easiest 200 galleons he'd ever make, but then he felt a sort of bubbling in his chest, like every feeling, every sentence he'd ever held back wanted to burst forth.
"...Well?" asked Malfoy, cautiously, leaning in, "How do you feel?"
"Bloody weird" Mattheo said, looking down at the empty vial in his hand. "And apprehensive, like I definitely don't want you to ask me things." His eyes widened at the words that had come so truthfully and vulnerably out of his mouth before he could stop them, suddenly realizing that he'd made a horrible mistake.
Theo was howling with laughter, leaning in and rubbing his hands together as he got ready to obliterate his best friend for being so cocky; he was going to make every galleon worth it.
"Did you take Blaise's Chudley Cannons scarf last term?" he asked.
"Yup, sold it to a fifth year for a bag of weedâ SHIT" Mattheo said quickly, eyes wide before slapping a hand over his mouth.
"Mate, what the fuck?â" Blaise started, but Theo was on a tear.
"âDid you cheat off of Lorenzo's potions exam this week?"
"Of course" Mattheo admitted, the words blasting by his hand, "I've been doing it since fourth year, his handwritings the size of my fist, thanks for that by the way" he said, looking at Enzo.
"Prego, amico" Lorenzo said smiling and shrugging, "happy to help."
"Alright then" Blaise said, the anger and frustration clear in his voice as he eyed Mattheo, "better own up, didn't you slip McLaggen a galleon to let Theo score on him last match?"
"Yeah, fuck, and I'm not sorry about it. I'm tired of hearing Theo piss and complain about losing when he barely shows up to practice and lets the rest of us down."
"OOHHH!" shouted several of the guys.
"Fucking harsh mate!!"
"What the fuck?!?" Theo shouted angrily as he lunged for Mattheo and the others tried to hold him back.
Amidst the shouting and commotion, they didn't hear you knock on the door.
"Guys?" you asked, raising your voice to be heard.
Five heads turned your way as they stopped mid-brawl and began to stand up and right themselves, adjusting their ties and smoothing their robes. For his part, Mattheo's heart nearly shot out of his chest. No, no no no not right now he thought as you pushed your way into their room. On any other occasion he'd be thrilled to see you, but now the bubbling in his chest was reaching its peak at the sight of his deepest, most tightly held secret: you, and every single thing he felt about you.
He took in your amused smile, the light laughter on your lips, the way it made your eyes sparkle and he felt his palms tingle with sweat as he grasped them into fists and swallowed deeply, like he could ingest his own thoughts. You were his best friend, had been since the moment he met you on his first train ride to Hogwarts and he had no illusions about ruining your friendship by trying for anything else; girls like you didn't end up with guys like him.
"Are you alright?" you asked, looking at him strangely before his friends chimed in for him.
"S'fine!"
"Yeah, yeah!"
"Never better!"
"What do you need, love?"
"I am NOT fine!" Mattheo said boldly and rather loudly before he could stop himself and your eyes shot to him with concern.
"Wait, what's wrong Matty?" you asked, using the nickname he only tolerated coming from you.
He pursed his lips tightly and shook his head, averting his eyes to the floor, physically warring with the words that were flooding his subconscious.
What's wrong? A lot of things are wrong, YN. For starters, I love you. I love you so much it physically pains me to spend as much time as we do together and not to grab your hand, to pull you onto my lap, to nuzzle into your neck, to kiss you; I have a list of things I want to do to you every time I see you. Especially in that godsdamn skirt you're wearing. It's my favorite. You should know that. And I wish you would stop wearing it, you have no idea the ways guys look at you. I wish you'd wear it only for me. I wish you'd want me the way I want you, because I want you so badly. I wish you were mine, but I'm scared, no, fucking terrified of the way I feel about you because love is vulnerability and vulnerability is weakness and I can't tell you any of this so please, please don't ask me anything and please, please stop looking at me like that.
"Matty?" you asked again, now thoroughly concerned as your best friend slammed his hands over his ears as you walked towards him.
Theo was burning hot with anger, stewing over what Mattheo had said about him, he wanted to take him down a notch, to embarrass him in return. "Admit it" he interrupted, staring at Mattheo "you have a thing for Pansy and you've tried to make a move on her even though she's with Draco."
You stopped short of approaching Mattheo and stared at Theo.
"What?" you whispered, feeling physically ill, jealous and hurt even though you had no such right.
Mattheo straightened up and glared at Theo.
"What the fuck did you just say?!" Draco said, brushing past you as he came for Mattheo.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Theo pushed further, so smug, so certain he was right.
"No you fucking prat" Mattheo spat at him.
Draco grabbed Mattheo by the front of his robes. "You swear it, you haven't made a move on her?"
"I swear it."
"Not even before we were dating?" Malfoy pressed.
"Not even before you were dating" Mattheo confirmed.
"What the fuck is going on?" you said, exasperated, almost to yourself as you tried to calm down.
"Veritaserum" Blaise said by way of explanation as he leaned in to be heard over the continued shouting of your friends. "Theo bet one of us to drink it and, well..." he said, gesturing his hand by way of explanation at the calamity in front of you.
Malfoy was shouting questions at Mattheo who looked genuinely surprised if not annoyed, and Enzo was looking back and forth at them like it was a tennis match. Theo had a deeply skeptical look on his face as he listened on, "No, you're always weird around Pansy and YN though, I thought..." then, like a lightbulb went off, Theo looked at you, to Mattheo and back again.
"Do you think Pansy's hot?" Malfoy continued.
"Bro, give it up" Blaise said finally, stepping to pull him back, "I think you're in the clear."
"I mean yeah she's hot, but she's not my type. FUCK!" Mattheo replied, rubbing a hand over his face at the admission.
"She's not, but YN is" Theo said finally.
Mattheo bit his bottom lip and stared at the floor, concentrating very hard on the tassels of the rug beneath his feet as he shook his head, a grimace on his face.
Your heart trilled in your chest, which was literally rising and falling in both panic and excitement. Mattheo was shaking his head no, but his whole body was fighting something, there was something he didn't want to say... about you.
"So, she's not your type? Not attractive to you at all?" Theo pushed.
Mattheo's face was turning a dark shade of red as pursed his lips closed and shook his head vehemently, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, his own nearly watering with the exertion of fighting the potion within him.
"Totally platonic? Didn't give a shit when Seamus Finnegan asked her out last term?"
Mattheo glanced at Theo, gathering himself, as he tried desperately to say the only truth he wanted to share. "He's a prick, no secret I didn't think it was a good ideaâ"
"âYou never told me that" you said quietly, confused, and not a little bit angry. "But you avoided me for a few weeks after, I remember..." you said, trailing off as you stepped closer to him, and Mattheo's looked genuinely afraid, outstretching his hands to stop you from coming any closer.
"What don't you want to say?â"
"âI don't want you here right now!" he said loudly.
You physically reared back at the harshness of his words. You caught his eye, trying to communicate the way you often did with one another, to ask things that could only be said without words, but you got nothing in response.
"R-Right" you said, your voice wobbling as you turned to leave, thoroughly embarassed.
And the sound of it nearly broke Mattheo's heart.
"Wait, wait, I didn't meant it like that, I don't want you to be upset, please don't be upset" he said, moving to reach for your hand urgently, the unmasked care and compassion in his voice making you turn and making Draco and Blaise bat at each other's arms in excitement like school girls at the scene unfolding in front of them.
"I don't want you to hear my truth" Mattheo said quietly, and just like that it was just the two of you, you who knew more than any of these idiots, you knew about Blaise's scarf (you had told him not to sell it), about him cheating in potions and paying off McLaggen, but even you didn't know his most deeply held secret and this isn't how he wanted it to come out.
"Please" he begged, in way none of his friends had ever heard him speak before.
"I just... I thought I knew all of your truths?" you said vulnerably, your chin wobbling, saddened at the idea that there was a part of him you didn't know.
"You don't. I'm sorry" he said simply.
"But they get to hear them?" you said, gesturing towards your friends.
"No, they don't know them either."
"What would be so bad that you wouldn't want anyone in your life to know, Matty?"
He bit his tongue as he tilted his head. "It isn't bad. I didn't say it was bad" he said.
You could tell he was playing with you, selectively choosing his words. Your curiosity piqued as you turned to face him fully with your arms crossed.
"What don't you want us to know?" you asked.
"How I â FUCK â feel â mmhmm" he tried to physically shove the words back into his mouth, clapping his hands over his mouth again as his body betrayed him.
Theo stepped forward, trying to pry his hands back. "Say it!" he said.
Mattheo tried to wiggle out of his grasp, the two of them thrashing back and forth.
"C'mon mate, time to earn those galleons! Cough it up! How you feel about what?" and Theo yanked Mattheo's hands away from his mouth just long enough for Mattheo to all but shout:
"HER!" he said, loudly, pointing to you. "About YN. I â FUCK â fucking love her."
You could have heard an owl feather hit the floor.
"Oh shit" Malfoy whispered.
Theo took a step back as he realized the enormity of what he'd just done. He'd thought Mattheo had a little crush on you, I mean, didn't they all? He thought it was just a bit of fun. But love? He'd know Mattheo for 7 years and he never so much as heard him say the word, let alone direct it at another person, in fact he knew just how much the concept had been beaten out of him as a child.
"Mate, I'mâ" he started.
Mattheo glared at him in way that reminded you for a moment about the family he came from, and it was the first time you'd ever seen Theo genuinely afraid as the smile dropped from his lips and he took an unconscious step back.
"Fuck you" Mattheo said, stepping towards him, the measured control in his voice somehow more frightening than the alternative. "You always take shit too far, you know that? That's whyâ"
"âMatty?" you said, your quiet whisper and the questions that lingered behind it tugging at his heart and pulling his attention back to you.
He met your eyes and the fury he felt at Theo dissolved in an instant, like it had apparated from the room, because the way you were looking at him was an expression he'd only seen in his dreams. You didn't look angry or confused, you weren't laughing or embarrassed, the sparkle in your eye was back and a soft smile rested on your lips, your eyes were blown wide, hopeful even, with a hint of something else underneath that had a sensation like melted honey spreading throughout his entire body.
"Can we maybe talk... outside...?" you asked.
"Yes, for the love of the gods" he said, walking quickly to your side, letting his hand rest gently at your back, the intimate gesture not lost on anybody as your friends wolf-whistled and snickered and he flipped them the finger over his head.
Now that the truth was out, there was nothing stopping the words that flew out of Mattheo's mouth as you led him to a nearby secluded corridor.
"I really want to talk to you about this" he said, the moment you were outside of the dormitory, "I am so embarrassed that it came out that way, that's not at all how I wanted to tell you, well, I didn't want to tell you at all, I was terrified actually. I've liked you for a long time, really since the first day we met, do you remember? On the train? You were wearing that blue jumper, you smelled like cinnamon and vanilla... You always smell so fucking goodâ"
You laughed as you pulled him with greater urgency by the hand away from prying eyes as he continued to ramble on, the truth serum creating a veritable waterfall of words out of his mouth.
"âYou're so fucking beautiful, I love your hair, your eyes, your smile, your nose... that sounds weird, but it's true, it's so fucking cuteâ"
"âMattheo" you said, as you stopped, placing your hands on his chest and pressing him gently against the stone wall to get him to slow down. "Breathe."
He shook his head.
"No, it's out now, and I don't know how long this shit lasts and if I don't say this stuff now, I'm not sure I'll ever have the balls to say it to your face, I've held onto this for 7 years YN."
Your lips curled into a small pout at how sweet he was being, at the idea that your best friend had been pining for you since you were 11 years old.
"I love you" he continued breathlessly, "and not like a little bit. Like, a lot. I don't know..." he said, carding his hand through his brown curls, "I've never felt this way about anyone, anything. I'm all consumed with you. You're the only thing I think about, the only girl I want, I'd do anything for you. And I'm sorry if this is going to totally wreck our friendship, if you want things to stay the way they are, I will try my level bestâ"
But his words were cut short as you pressed your lips to his, capturing his truth, letting it wash over you, every word you had been desperate to hear, every thought you'd shared the same. It surprised him for only a second before his hands grasped your face and he pulled you further into him.
"You're fucking perfect" he whispered after a moment, his eyes dancing over your features.
"Remind me again why I didn't give you veritaserum like years ago?" you said, smiling against his lips.
"It's a felony?" he said, laughing.
"...Right" you said, laughing back.
You were only gone a few minutes, but as you scurried back to the dormitory you tried to fix your hair, and wipe the lipgloss off of Mattheo's face as he smiled down at you with puppy dog eyes.
"They're going to lose their mind" you said quietly just outside the door, "let's just play it cool, alright?"
And before he could respond that there was no way on earth he could possibly do that, you pushed the door open and all conversation stopped.
"...Alright?" Theo asked, turning to face you both, nervous at the potential mess he may have caused.
"Fine, we were just talkingâ"
"âShe macked me!!" Mattheo shouted truthfully with a huge grin on his face as he wrapped his arm around you.
You gasped and swatted at him playfully, your cheeks blushing a rosy pink as your friends erupted into cheers, hoot and hollers, descending on you both as Mattheo looked down at you, glowing, happier than you could ever remember seeing him.
taglist: @girllblogging777, @iamdnb, @bookworm124, @zatannasrealgf, @r-a-c-h-e-l
4K notes
·
View notes
Text

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo
chapter one
summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you canât stand each other.
{enemies to lovers, fake dating}
includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn
wc: 2.4k
-
a/n: first series! it wonât be super long, but I hope you enjoy. send requests for more fics!
-
âMatt, you canât back out now!â You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare at your best friend where he lays on his bed, setting his phone down to look up at you.
âIâm sorry, love, something came up and I canât make it,â he apologizes, shrugging his shoulders. âI canât get out of it.â
You groan, throwing your head back in frustration. You had a family wedding to attend and already RSVPâd with a plus one, which was supposed to be your best friend Matt, who had lovingly agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend for the night. Your family was super invasive about you getting a boyfriend, and you wanted to avoid all of the comments and questions by just pretending to have a boyfriend for one night at the wedding, but your plan was falling apart.
âWhat am I supposed to do? I already told everyone I was coming with somebody, theyâre gonna know I was lying if I show up by myself,â you tell him, trying to rack your brain for any ideas.
âYou could bring Nick,â Matt suggests, picking his phone back up and going back to scrolling.
You scoff. âYeah right, like Nick could pretend to be straight for an entire night. Heâd be caught in less than an hour.â You shake your head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to Matt. âIâm gonna have to go on, like, Bumble or something and find some random to go with me.â
Matt looks up at you over his phone, waiting for you to lock eyes with him before he starts to speak. âI mean⊠I know one other guy you could ask.â
You tilt your head, excited to hear the suggestion, before you realize who heâs talking about and your eyes widen, head shaking rapidly. âAbsolutely not,â you put your hands up, pointer fingers crossed over in an X. âI am not asking Chris, no way.â
Matt raises his eyebrows and purses his lips. âI told you I knew someone, I didnât say youâd like what I said.â
You roll your eyes. âHe would never say yes to me anyway, even if I did want to ask him.â
Matt shrugs. âMaybe. You could always bribe him, he loves a good bribe.â
You think about it for another moment, knowing it would be easier to get Chris to do it than it would to find some random guy to go to a wedding as a first date, but the thought of spending an entire night next to Chris made your skin crawl.
The two of you had never really gotten along, even with you being around as much as you were, you guys never clicked, in fact it was the complete opposite, always insulting each other any chance you got, ignoring each other, and always avoiding being in the same room by yourself, even if only for a few moments.
âI mean⊠I could try but I really canât promise I wonât kill your brother, Matt,â you half joke, but not really. âMight turn you into a twin.â
âThatâs fucked,â Matt laughs, using his foot to kick you lightly. âIâll still be a triplet, even if you kill him. Iâll just be a triplet with severe depression and no will no live.â
âYouâre so dramatic,â you tell him through a laugh. âYour life would be so much quieter, wouldnât that be nice? Youâd secretly thank me for killing him.â
Matt shakes his head at you with a smile, though his eyes tell you he thinks youâre crazy, before looking back down at his phone.
âKilling who?â A voice sounds from the doorway and you look up to see the man of the hour staring back at you, a disinterested look on his face.
âYou,â you smile sweetly up at Chris.
âThatâs nice,â he says, flashing you a fake, tight lipped smile before turning to his brother. âHey, can you take me to go get food?â
Matt groans and throws his head back, closing his eyes. âBut Iâm so comfortable,â he whines.
You take a deep breath and consider your options. Chris, who you hate but have known for years, or a random guy who might be a serial killer? Youâd definitely be safer with Chris, but the thought of having to be near him without his brothers for an entire night seemed like hell. Especially having to act like you were pleased to be in his presence.
âIâll take you,â you speak before you can stop yourself.
Both Matt and Chris look at you with shocked expressions, Chris having a bit of disgust in his eyes.
âIâd rather starve, thanks,â Chris replies. âMatt, câmon seriously, can you take me?â He asks again.
âChris,â you say in a stern voice, standing up from the bed and walking towards him. âLet me take you. I need to talk to you.â
Chris watches you walk past him through the doorway and then looks back at Matt, shooting him a confused look, to which his brother just shrugs, before he leaves to follow you, finding you by the front door slipping your crocs on.
âThe fuck is this about?â He asks, trotting down the stairs to meet you by the front door. âYou in love with me or some shit?â
You look up at him with an unamused expression. âYou wish I was in love with you.â You huff. âI told you, I gotta talk to you.â
You open the front door and head outside towards your car, opening the drivers side door. You look behind you and see Chris standing in the doorway, staring after you. âIâll buy your food,â you tell him, and he immediately shuts the door behind him and walks up to your car. âYou shouldâve led with that!â He says.
You both get in your car and you start driving. âWhere do you want to go?â You ask him, turning your head to see him on his phone. âChris,â you push, reaching out to smack his phone out of his hand, causing it to land on the floor.
âWhat the fuck, dude. Unnecessary.â Chris huffs, reaching down to grab his phone, but he tucked it between his legs instead of going back on it. âI donât know, McDonaldâs?â
You groan. âYou always get McDonaldâs. Canât we get like Popeyes or something?â
Chris looks at you, raising an eyebrow. âWell I didnât know you were gonna eat, too, jesus. Sure, Popeyes is fine.â He goes for his phone again, but you reach out and grab his hand, stopping him.
âWait,â you start. âI actually do need to talk to you.â
Chris sighs and puts his phone away in his pocket completely, looking over at you. âOkay, spit it out then.â
You flash a glare at him quickly before returning your eyes to the road. âSo⊠Matt was going to be my plus one for a wedding Iâm going to, but he canât go anymore because something came up, and I canât ask Nick because heâs gay and that just wonât work, and so that just leaves you.â You tell him nervously.
âSo what if heâs gay, your family homophobic or something?â Chris asks, annoyance lacing his voice.
You sigh and pull into the Popeyes parking lot, pulling into a spot and throwing the car into park before you turn your body to face Chris. âNo, theyâre not homophobic. Itâs just⊠I kind of told them I was bringing a boyfriend.â
Chris stares at you for a moment before laughing, completely unserious. âYou? A boyfriend? Thatâs hilarious. I canât believe youâre lying to your family about having a boyfriend.â
You donât laugh though, you just drop your eyes down to your lap, knowing that this was exactly how the conversation would go.
âWait a minute, that means you want me to pretend Iâm your boyfriend? Fuck no, Iâd rather be single for the rest of my life. Forget it, dude, youâre shit outta luck with me.â Chris shakes his head, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.
You nod and start backing out of the spot, heading towards the drive-thru. âYeah I figured that was how youâd respond,â you murmur.
You guys order your food, and you still pay for it, staying true to your word, before heading home. It was a quick but quiet ride back, both of you getting out of the car without a word, not even a âthank youâ shot your way. You take your shoes off and head back up to Mattâs room, seeing him in the same position you left him in, only now he was watching a movie, and you got in his bed to join him with your food.
âHowâd it go?â He asked, reaching out to steal one of your fries.
âExactly how I expected it to go. He laughed in my face and said heâd rather be single for the rest of his life than pretend to be my boyfriend,â you tell Matt, looking down at him from where you sat.
Matt smiles up at you, reaching out to pat your leg. âSorry, kid. You tried.â
You nod and look up at the tv screen, starting to eat your dinner.
-
The next day, youâre sitting on your couch panting your toes and watching your favorite comfort show when you hear the doorbell ring, startling you as you werenât expecting anybody over today. You look down at your toes and swear under your breath, seeing that you smeared polish along your skin.
You set down the polish on the table and stand up, walking to your door and pulling it open, jaw dropping in shock when you come face to face with Chris, the last person you expected to show up at your door unannounced. You almost wanted to rub your eyes in case you were mistaking him for another triplet, but you knew your eyes didnât deceive you.
âChris?â You question. âHow did you get here?â
He rolls his eyes at you. âI ubered?â He says like itâs obvious. âYou gonna let me in or what?â
You take a step back and let him into your house, shutting the door behind him. âSo, to what do I owe the pleasure?â You say, sitting back down on your couch. He follows and sits at the opposite end, looking over at you.
He ignores your question, watching you as you continue to do your toes, cleaning up the mess you made. âWhy not just get your toes done?â He asks.
You look at him with an annoyed expression. âCosts money? Why spend money when I can sit around and do it myself?â You go back to painting your toes. âWhy are you here?â
Chris shrugs. âBeen thinking about what you said yesterday, about the wedding.â
You stop what youâre doing and put the polish back down, turning your attention on Chris completely. âDid you change your mind?â You ask him.
He sighs and licks his lips before speaking. âConsider it my charity for the year,â he smiles, tilting his head at you. âBut I need a small favor from you.â
âA favor in return isnât charity, Chris, itâs like⊠eye for an eye or whatever.â You look at him deadpan. Of course heâd want something in return, he could never do something for you out of the goodness of his heart.
âWhatever, dude, you want my help or not?â Chris asks. âIf not Iâll just leave, doesnât make a difference to me.â
You huff and give in. âFine. Whatâs the favor?â You ask him.
He pulls out his phone, scooting a bit closer to you on the couch. âThereâs this girl that will not stop hitting me up and sheâs driving me crazy. I told her Iâm not interested, Iâve ignored her messages, I even blocked her on snap to see if sheâd get the hint but she still texts me every day.â He shows you all of the unanswered messages and your jaw drops.
âHoly shit, what does this girl see in you?â You laugh, reading how desperate she was for Chris.
âFunny,â Chris replies, unamused.
âWhat does this have to do with me?â You ask him, looking back up at his face.
âI think itâs only fair if I pretend to be your boyfriend at the wedding, you pretend to be my girlfriend on social media. Only for a few weeks or until she stops messaging me. Plus, youâre way hotter than her. â Chris tells you, and by the tone of his voice, heâs completely serious.
You feel heat rising up your neck and you try to get it under control before your cheeks turn red. âYou think Iâm hot?â You ask him, a teasing lilt in your voice.
âNot the point,â he replies.
âSo you tell me that you would rather be single for the rest of your life than pretend to be my boyfriend, and now you want me to pretend Iâm your girlfriend?â You clarify, and he just nods, like itâs no big deal. âPretending to be together at an event is one thing, but you want to take photos to look like a couple? Thatâs a little⊠intimate donât you think?â
Chris shrugs his shoulders. âIâm a big boy, youâre a big girl. Donât think you can handle a little physical touch without falling for me?â He smirks, leaning in closer to you.
You grimace and reach up to push his shoulder away. âGross, dude. I could have sex with you and still not fall in love with you and your terrible personality.â
Chris gasps, fake shocked, throwing a hand to his chest. âI am a very good lover, why do you think this girl wonât stop texting me?â
Your eyes widen. âYou had sex with her?!â You shriek. âChris, no wonder she keeps blowing your shit up!â
Chris groans and throws his head back, leaning it on the back of the couch. âIt was supposed to be a one time thing, I donât know why sheâs so hung up on me!â
You find yourself giggling a bit before you stop and clear your throat, not wanting to give Chris the satisfaction of making you laugh. You compose yourself and shake your head, clearly disappointed in the boy across from you. âFine, Iâll pretend to be your girlfriend, but no kissing! I draw the line at kissing.â
âOh, you donât have to worry, I donât want to kiss you,â Chris cringes. âSo⊠I guess we should start planning this?â
You nod and smile towards him, placing your hands in your lap as you guys start to figure out how to execute both individual plans.
-
a/n: this chapter is SUPER short but itâs kinda just to get a feel of the fic and how itâs gonna play out. I really hope you guys like this series im so nervous about it!!
taglist
@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#matt x reader#matt x you#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris x you#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#chris x reader#chris#my fics
990 notes
·
View notes
Text
MDNI
Working at a restaurant with 141! (pt. 3)
"All of us under one roof? Have you lost the plot?"
Gaz snorts, all of you sitting at the bar. You shake your head. The thought alone makes you dizzy.
"Just me and you is hectic enough."
Gaz stares at Soap. John laughs, sipping his scotch. You think for a moment before taking your shot. Wait a fucking second. You joke about how they have decided to make your flat nothing short of a base, and if they're gonna be at your place more than theirs they should at least pay some of your bills. They freeze. Johnny nearly jumps for joy, grabbing your face and kissing you,
"Smart fuckin girl. 'N' if we're paying 'er bills, might as weel move in aye?"
That is not what you meant.
"Who knows, maybe it'll stop them from trying to drag 'er in the walk-in."
John shrugs. They cannot be entertaining this bullshit.
"Doubt it."
Simon shoots back his glass. There's a pause. They look at each other. Oh my God they are entertaining this bullshit.
"I'll think about it."
Price finishes his drink. They talk like you're not even there. You're horrified. Four men and you. One apartment. Not just any men, them. Maybe this is all some sick joke.
"You can always say no."
Simon kisses you before you hop out his car. You're not sure if you believe that. Your phone buzzed in the middle of the night, it's the group chat. Soap sends a link to a three bedroom flat,
Thoughts?
Three dots pop up.
Ok.
Simon replies. That's the only they blessing needed to move forward.
Hectic does not describe the move-in process, there are arguments on who's furniture gets moved in, who sleeps where, who gets to use which bathroom. Eventually there was a vote held (not that it mattered, John always had final say).
Anything big enough to accommodate the five of you was moved in. There would be a bed rotation, making sure no one slept with Ghost and Soap at the same time (and if everyone got tired of their shit, there's three beds for a reason.) Gaz and Soap shared a bathroom upstairs, you shared the one downstairs with Ghost and Price (this made sure you and Kyle had enough space for both your skincare products.)
You barely wore your own clothes anymore; with a closet full of clothes that were comfy and looked good on you, why bother? All your love languages included physical touch, so at any given moment, someone was touching somebody in the house. Lots of shared showers to "save water". Simon mostly cooks with the occasional help of you or Johnny. Sunday roast meant the kitchen was off limits for everyone except Simon, God help anyone who even tries to step foot in his territory.
Holidays are chaotic, always loud with a lot of drinking. And sex. Your first Christmas together was particularly memorable. Of course everyone got gifts that they treasured, including you. But you didn't know what to get Simon. Of course he was the type to say he didn't want anything but, that wasn't right. He opened his gift from you, he stared at it, said a simple thank you and slid it into his pocket. There's a game of poker being played in the living room after gifts are opened. Simon leaves to the bedroom,
"M tired."
Everyone else says goodnight, too enraptured by the game. While there's an argument about Johnny's shuffling, you walk to the bedroom. There he is, cranking the little handle on the wooden music box you gave him; it played Danny boy, wasn't bigger than the palm of your hand, and had an engraving on the inside lid.
"It's the words on the first hoodie you gave me."
"Mhm. Didn't have to get me anything."
He says, still turning the handle. Avoiding eye contact. You sit next to him.
"Don't know if you know how much you mean to me, promise I'll show you though."
His voice the softest you've ever heard. He tucks the box back into his pocket. A quick kiss to your forehead before walking back to the living room with you. This was one of the many holidays Simon didn't have to spend alone anymore.
#sorry it got sappy at the end LMAO#poly 141#141 x reader#simon ghost riley#johnny soap MacTavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#simon ghost x reader#cod x reader#soap x reader#kyle gaz x reader#price x reader#ghost x reader#kyle gaz x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#price x you#short stuff#simon riley x you#soap x you#johnny soap mactavish#gaz x reader#ghost x you#simon riley x reader#gaz x you#john price x reader#john price x you#141 x you#cod#cod mw2
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
PICK A CARD: What is beautiful about you
Hello and welcome to this reading! Here I will tell you what is beautiful about you. I hope you enjoy this reading!
Masterpost > Paid Readings > Patreon Masterlist
The extended version of this reading can be found on my patreon, the link of which is here

Pile 1:
You truly are so creative. There is no one the people around you know that is as creative as you are. You have an insane amount of ideas constantly in your mind, and all of those ideas are great for problem-solving. Even if your idea seems absolutely atrocious and you simply made it up to make light of the situation, often times there is still more truth in it than you had ever thought, and often times it will actually help finding a solution to something. Your creativity isnât only good for problem-solving or thinking of things to do, it also helps cheer people up. You have an incredibly good sense of humour, and you make not just your friends and family members laugh, you make everyone laugh all around you. You have the quickest responses sometimes, and your jokes are often jokes that have not been heard before. You are quick-witted and your brain goes way faster than anyone elseâs.
extended reading
Pile 2:
You are quick to call out somebodyâs bullshit. When you see some unjust hanging around somewhere you will be speaking up about it. The people around you see you as a strong-willed person, someone who is never going to let anyone walk right over you. You are loyal to yourself and your friends, and if any of the people you care about gets harmed you always know that revenge is going to be bittersweet. You are someone people look up to, even those people you donât believe ever would do. They wish they had the balls that you seem to possess as long as they know you (for many of you this obviously isnât true, you have learned to become like this, or forced to become like this, and for a couple this is most likely also a façade you put up. But whether you are actually insecure or not doesnât matter; you are still a very strong person, with strong morals and a strong sense of justice). You should realise how good of a friend, a partner, and a family member you really are / can be.
extended reading
Pile 3:
You are unique. There is no one like you out there. Some of you donât believe that this is the case that you are just like anyone else. But there truly is no one like you out there who has the set of interests that you have, the hobbies you have and the dreams that you have. You have a personality no one else has, you have authenticity and some people do not like that. Those people you are insecure about because they are so vastly different from you are the ones who are jealous of you; they do not understand you so they try to dislike you. People are afraid of the unknown, and those people who all seem to be the same? They have that whenever they see you. Not understanding something and not wanting to understand is ignorance, and there are a ton of people who sadly carry that trait. Your uniqueness isnât the only thing that people find beautiful about you. Itâs also because when you want something you truly go for it. Sure, sometimes it doesnât feel like this immediately; but if you have a goal you will reach that goal no matter how long it takes you.
extended reading
#pick a card#pick a pile#pick an image#pac#pap#spirituality#spiritual#divination#tarot#tarot reading#tarotoftheday#tarotblr#tarot readings#tarot deck#tarot cards#tarot blog#tarot pac#tarotcommunity#tarot commissions#beauty#shadow work#love reading#self love reading#advice reading#loa#law of assumption#witchblr#free tarot reading#free tarot#free reading
468 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could I please get a fake dating or like Hotch jumps in to be Reader's date for a wedding or something story?
Everybody Loves Somebody
Masterlist || Ao3
AN: I keep telling myself that I want to post something every day of December, so let's see if I can keep this up! This one I fought myself back and forth if I liked it, so I hope you guys do! I also need to update my masterlist...like bad.
Pairing:Â Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader||Word Count:Â 13.5k
Tags/Warnings: Female Reader, BAU Reader, Hotch and Reader are Best Friends, Reader is being breadcrumbed by another guy, insecure reader, reader does not know her worth, weddings, mentions of alcohol in a wedding setting, smut, smut with feelings, smut that you have to use your imagination for in some points, not specified, but unprotected sex, one-bed-trope, romance, fluff, angst, eluding to reader being in toxic relationships before, hurt/comfort.
Sypnosis:Â At a wedding filled with laughter, romance, and unexpected revelations, You and Hotch find yourselves navigating the fine line between friendship and something more. What starts as a favor soon becomes a night of quiet truths and unspoken emotions, as the two of you grapple with feelings that can no longer be ignored.
Aaron Hotchner had long considered himself an observant man. It was, after all, an essential trait in his line of work. But when it came to you, his closest friend and confidant, observation was more than professionalâit was personal. He prided himself on knowing you better than anyone else, even if the knowledge sometimes brought him a frustrating ache he didnât dare examine too closely.
That ache flared again today as he glanced across the bullpen to where you sat at your desk. To the untrained eye, you were simply busyâtyping emails, jotting notes, occasionally furrowing your brow in concentration. But Hotch knew better. The tight set of your jaw, the way your leg bounced beneath your desk, and the fact that you hadnât laughed at any of Morganâs jokes all afternoonâthose were your tells. Something was wrong.
He waited until the team dispersed for lunch to approach. You didnât notice him until he leaned against the edge of your desk, his arms crossed, and gave you one of his signature looksâthe kind that said he was waiting for answers.
âWhat?â you asked, feigning innocence as you glanced up at him.
Hotch raised a brow. âYouâre upset.â
You scoffed lightly, turning your attention back to your computer. âIâm fine.â
The evasion only confirmed his suspicions. âYouâre not fine,â he said softly. âTalk to me.â
For a moment, you hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then, with a sigh, you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms defensively. âItâs nothing, Hotch. Just... plans fell through, and Iâm annoyed. Thatâs all.â
But it wasnât nothing. He knew exactly whatâor rather whoâwas behind this.
âLet me guess,â he said, his voice hardening despite himself. âItâs him.â
Your silence was damning.
Hotch felt his stomach twist. He hated thisâhated how that man, who didnât deserve an ounce of your time, could still have this hold on you. It wasnât the first time heâd seen you like thisâhopeful one minute, crushed the next. He clenched his jaw, reigning in the frustration that wasnât entirely directed at the man.
Hotch remembered every instance in painful clarity.
The blown-off phone calls. The texts left unanswered for hours, sometimes days. The signs of interest one day, only for them to vanish into disinterest the next. It was a cycle so predictable it made Hotchâs blood boil, not just because it hurt you but because you still held out hope every time that this time would be different.
And then there were the worst momentsâthe ones that left marks even you couldnât brush off.
There was the time youâd shown up to work after a rare weekend off, a hopeful sparkle in your eye as you mentioned that things finally seemed to be turning around with him. Hotch had wanted to believe it for your sake, but heâd barely had time to hope before you confidedâover lunch in the BAUâs break roomâthat the man had stood you up for dinner, citing a âmisunderstanding.â Hotch had gripped his coffee mug so tightly he thought it might crack.
Through it all, heâd stayed quiet. Heâd been your friend, your colleague, your confidant. Heâd listened when you needed to vent, offered advice when you asked, and let you lean on him when the weight of disappointment became too much. But inside, heâd been screaming.
Screaming at the man who couldnât see the incredible person standing right in front of him. Screaming at himself for letting it go on for so long without saying more.
âWhat happened?â he asked, forcing his tone to remain gentle.
You sighed again, this time heavier. âMy friend from college and grad school, Annie, is getting married this weekend. I had a plus-one, andâwell, he was supposed to come with me.â Your voice wavered just slightly. âBut he bailed last minute. Said he couldnât make it because heâs âtoo busy.ââ
Hotchâs jaw tightened further. Too busy? The excuse was laughable, infuriating, and so painfully predictable. He hated seeing the way you tried to downplay your disappointment as if his latest betrayal were somehow your fault.
âI donât get it, Hotch,â you continued quietly, staring down at your desk. âI thought things were finally going somewhere this time. But heâs alwaysââ You shook your head, blinking back tears. âI donât know. Maybe itâs me. Maybe Iâm justââ
He wanted to tell you why. Wanted to tell you that you hoped because you were good, because you believed in people even when they didnât deserve it. He wanted to tell you that your hope was one of the things he admired most about youâand the thing that tore him apart when it was weaponized against you.
âStop,â Hotch interrupted, his voice firmer than he intended.
You blinked up at him in surprise.
âThis isnât about you,â he said, holding your gaze. âItâs about him. Heâs a coward who doesnât see whatâs right in front of him. You deserve better than thisâbetter than him. You do this because you care. But he doesnât deserve it.â
You smiled weakly, but it didnât reach your eyes. âThanks, Hotch. But itâs not like I have a backup plan. Itâs just one weekend. Iâll survive.â
Hotch watched as you tried to bury your hurt under a mask of indifference, but it didnât fool him. He wasnât sure when he made the decisionâit was instinctive, like every protective impulse he felt when it came to you.
âThen let me go with you,â he said, the words spilling out before he could overthink them.
Your eyes widened. âWhat?â
âIâll go with you to the wedding,â he repeated, his voice calm and steady. âIf youâll have me.â
The stunned look on your face made him wonder if heâd overstepped. But then your lips curved into a genuine smileâa rare one that he hadnât seen all day.
âYouâd really do that?â you asked softly.
He nodded, his own lips twitching into the smallest smile. âOf course. Thatâs what friends are for.â
You laughedâa light, incredulous sound that made something warm bloom in his chest. âAaron Hotchner, my wedding date. Who wouldâve thought?â
âItâs a first for me, too,â he admitted, his tone light but sincere. âBut I promise, you wonât regret it.â
For the first time that day, Hotch saw a flicker of hope in your eyes, and he silently vowed to make good on his promise. Because whether you realized it or not, you deserved someone who saw your worthâsomeone who would never dream of leaving you hanging.
And if that someone couldnât be him, heâd at least make sure you saw what it was like to be treated the way you deserved, even if just for one weekend.
Aaron Hotchner wasnât sure how it had happened, but somehow, agreeing to accompany you to this wedding had become the most complicated logistical endeavor of his week. Which, considering he led a team of profilers tracking violent criminals, was saying something.
He sat across from you at the round table in the break room, a notepad in hand as you went over the details for the weekend. You were in full planning mode, leaning forward, your fingers tapping rhythmically against your coffee cup.
âSo,â you began, grinning. âThe wedding is in Stafford. I already booked a room because I wasnât sure how late Iâd stay, but now that youâre coming, I can probably cancel that and justââ
âYou should keep it,â Hotch interjected.
You raised an eyebrow, your grin morphing into something sly. âAaron, are you worried about your reputation? Afraid of being seen walking out of my hotel room in the morning?â
His lips quirked into the faintest smile. âIâm worried about getting enough sleep and having to share a room with someone who steals the covers.â
âWow,â you deadpanned, pretending to clutch your chest. âAccusing me of being a cover thief without evidence. Profiling me already, Hotchner?â
âCall it an educated guess.â
Your laugh was light and easy, the sound wrapping around him in a way that momentarily made him forget you were planning this trip because someone else had let you down. He knew better than to dwell on that, though, especially now that you were in good spirits again.
âSo,â you continued, brushing a strand of hair from your face, âyouâre driving, right? Youâve got the serious FBI Dad car that wonât break down.â
Hotch raised a brow, unsure what quick-witted joke you were making at him. âFBI Dad car?â
âYeah, you know,â you teased, gesturing vaguely. âSturdy, reliable, no-nonsense. It practically screams, âIâm an authority figure, and I have juice boxes in the back seat for emergencies.ââ
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. âIâll take that as a compliment. Yes, Iâll drive.â
Before you could respond, Morganâs voice drifted in from the hallway.
âSounds like weâre right after all,â he said, loud enough for both of you to hear.
Hotch turned to find Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi standing in the doorway, all wearing expressions ranging from smug to amused.
âRight about what?â Hotch asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
âOh, nothing,â Morgan replied, but the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth said otherwise.
You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at the trio. âOkay, spill it. What conspiracy theory are you cooking up now?â
Prentiss smirked. âOh, itâs not a conspiracy. Just a little⊠friendly office speculation.â
Rossi, ever the instigator, folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. âLetâs just say thereâs a reason the betting pool has been so active lately.â
Hotch blinked, confused. âBetting pool?â
âOn what?â you asked, your tone equal parts curious and incredulous.
Morgan didnât miss a beat. âOn when you two were finally going to get together.â
For a moment, there was silence. Then, simultaneously:
âWhat?â Hotch said, his voice clipped with disbelief.
âExcuse me?â you said, your tone higher and filled with mock outrage.
The trio in the doorway looked utterly unfazed.
âOh, come on,â Prentiss said, rolling her eyes. âYou finish each otherâs sentences, you bicker like an old couple, and donât even get me started on the way you look at each other.â
You snorted. âThe way we look at each other? What is this, a rom-com?â
Hotch held up a hand, his expression stern but his tone baffled. âThis is absurd. Weâre colleagues and friends. Thatâs it.â
Morgan raised a skeptical brow. âFriends, huh? Youâre going to a wedding together. And if Iâm not mistaken, Hotch just volunteered to driveâsounds pretty couple-y to me.â
You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. âOh, Derek, sweet, sweet Derek,â you said, your voice dripping with exaggerated condescension. âAre you trying to tell me that I canât ask my best friend to be my date to a wedding without it being some grand romantic gesture?â
Morgan grinned. âNot saying it, just calling it like I see it.â
Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. âThis is ridiculous.â
Prentiss gave him a mock-serious look. âItâs not ridiculous if itâs true.â
âItâs not true,â you and Hotch said in unison, which only seemed to amuse the team further.
âUh-huh,â Morgan said, exchanging a knowing look with Rossi.
Hotch turned to you, his lips pressing into a thin line. âTheyâre crazy.â
âOh, 100%,â you agreed, giving him a quick, conspiratorial grin. âBut letâs not correct them. Letâs just let them spiral into their own delusions. Itâll be fun to watch.â
Prentiss smirked. âYou know we can still hear you, right?â
âThen youâre welcome for the entertainment,â you shot back, standing and grabbing your coffee cup.
As the team finally dispersed, still laughing and muttering amongst themselves, Hotch shook his head, bemused.
âUnbelievable,â he muttered.
âHey, look at it this way,â you said, bumping his shoulder lightly as you passed. âAt least now youâve got a reputation as a fun wedding date. Thatâs gotta count for something, right?â
Despite himself, Hotch felt a small smile tug at his lips. âRight.â
Hotch arrived at your apartment a few minutes early, the morning sun casting long shadows across the quiet street. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket while waiting, catching himself fidgetingâa rare occurrence. He told himself it was because of the unfamiliarity of the situation, not because of you.
When you finally emerged, his breath hitched. You were dressed simply but elegantly, exuding a confidence that he found himself noticing more than usual. As you approached the car, you waved with a teasing smile.
âWow, Aaron, I didnât think punctuality extended to wedding duty,â you quipped, opening the passenger door.
He smirked as you slid into the seat. âYou make it sound like this is an interrogation.â
âDepends. Will there be a polygraph at the reception?â you shot back, buckling your seatbelt.
Hotch chuckled softly, pulling away from the curb. âLetâs hope not.â
The silence between you was comfortable as the car rolled onto the highway. Hotch found himself glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You were scrolling through your phone, your brow furrowing in that way it always did when you were deep in thought.
âSo,â he began, breaking the quiet, âwhatâs the plan for the reception? Do I stand in the corner and look intimidating, or are you expecting me to charm your college friends?â
You turned to him with a mock-serious expression. âYouâre under strict orders to charm, obviously. Whatâs the point of bringing you along if youâre just going to brood in a corner?â
âI donât brood,â he replied, raising an eyebrow.
âOh, you absolutely brood,â you said with a grin. âBut donât worryâIâll coach you. Step one: smile occasionally. It wonât kill you.â
Hotch shot you a dry look. âIâll take that under advisement.â
Your laugh was light, but it held an edge of something deeperâsomething that lingered in the air between you like a static charge.
After a beat, you shifted in your seat, your voice softening. âYou know, you really didnât have to do this. I wouldâve survived.â
He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. âI know. But I wanted to.â
Your eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. There was something in your gazeâa mix of gratitude and something unspoken, something he didnât dare put a name to.
âWell,â you said, your voice tinged with a sly edge as you broke the comfortable silence. âIf weâre doing this, we might as well make it fun. Tell me, Hotchâhowâs your dancing?â
Hotch glanced at you, arching an eyebrow as his lips quirked into the faintest smirk. âImpeccable.â
You blinked, your grin faltering in mock surprise. âWait, really? You canât just say that and not elaborate.â
âI donât think thereâs much to elaborate on,â he said, his tone light but confident. âYears of events, fundraisers, and... the occasional gala. I can hold my own.â
For a moment, you simply stared at him, then let out a sharp laugh. âOh, this is going to be fun. The FBIâs most stoic agent is secretly a Fred Astaire in disguise? Who knew?â
Hotch chuckled softly, shaking his head. âDonât get your hopes up. I didnât say I was flashy.â
âFlashy is overrated,â you replied, leaning back in your seat. âGrace, timing, presenceâthose are the real markers of a great dancer.â
âAnd youâd know this how?â he asked, shooting you a sidelong glance.
You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. âI took some lessons in college. Turns out I have two left feet, but Iâm a great judge of talent.â
He smirked. âTwo left feet? I find that hard to believe.â
âBelieve it,â you said, grinning. âSo, looks like Iâll be depending on you to keep us from embarrassing ourselves on the dance floor.â
âI think weâll manage,â he replied, his voice steady but laced with a quiet warmth.
There was something in the way you looked at him then, your teasing smile softening just enough to give away the unspoken tension humming beneath the surface. Hotch forced his attention back to the road, though his mind lingered on the way your presence seemed to fill the space around him so effortlessly.
âYou know,â you said after a moment, breaking the silence with a playful tilt to your voice, âif youâre this good at dancing, Iâm starting to think Iâve been seriously underestimating you.â
âIs that so?â he asked, his tone carrying the faintest hint of a challenge.
âYeah,â you replied, tapping a finger against your chin in mock thought. âWhat other hidden talents are you keeping from me?â
Hotch smirked, but instead of answering, he let the question hang in the air, his silence calculated.
âOh, come on,â you pressed, laughing lightly. âYou canât just drop a bombshell like that and leave me hanging.â
He shrugged, his expression unreadable but his tone unmistakably amused. âMaybe I like keeping you guessing.â
You scoffed, shaking your head. âYouâre infuriating, you know that?â
âSo Iâve been told.â
Your laugh filled the car again, bright and unrestrained, and Hotch allowed himself a small smile. It was moments like thisâwhen the walls between you seemed to lower without effortâthat he felt the tug of something deeper. Something heâd long ignored, even as it grew impossible to deny.
As the miles stretched on, the banter gave way to quieter moments, but the tension never left. It simmered beneath the surface, in the way your knee brushed against the center console, in the way his name sounded when you said it, in the way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long at every red light.
By the time you reached the venue, Hotch found himself gripping the wheel a little tighter, his usual composure shaken just enough to make him wonder if this was really just about being a good friend.
And judging by the way you looked at him as you stepped out of the car, he suspected he wasnât the only one wondering.
By the time Hotch pulled into the parking lot, the late morning sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the small boutique hotel nestled on the edge of town. He stepped out of the car, grabbing your overnight bag from the trunk and trying not to notice the way your dress caught the light as you smoothed it out.
The lobby was quaint, adorned with rustic charm, and the check-in process was quick. Hotch couldnât help but notice the faint blush that crept up your cheeks when the receptionist handed him a single key card.
âEnjoy your stay,â the woman said with a knowing smile, though Hotch couldnât decipher if it was genuine or merely part of her routine.
As you both stepped into the elevator, you glanced at him, your lips twitching with amusement. âSo, any guesses on the room situation?â
Hotch gave you a sidelong glance, his voice steady. âIâm sure itâs fine.â
But the moment the door to the room swung open, he realized "fine" was a stretch.
There it was. The single bed. Large and neatly made, taking up most of the modestly sized room.
You stopped in the doorway, your bag slung over one shoulder as you surveyed the scene. âWell,â you said after a moment, turning back to him with a raised eyebrow, âthis is cozy.â
Hotch cleared his throat, stepping inside and setting your bag on the chair in the corner. âItâs practical,â he said, though even he didnât believe the words.
You smirked, closing the door behind you. âI didnât realize practicality came with a built-in proximity test.â
He gave you a faint look, his lips twitching despite himself. âIf itâs an issue, I can take the floor.â
âOh, donât be ridiculous,â you said, brushing past him to set your phone on the bedside table. âWeâre both adults. I think we can survive one night.â You looked back at him and had almost a nervous laugh, âPlus, I have to prove to you Iâm not a sheet thief.âÂ
The confidence in your voice didnât quite match the flicker of something else in your eyesânervousness, curiosity, or perhaps the same undercurrent of tension heâd felt since the drive.
âWell,â you continued, shaking off the moment as you dug through your bag, âwe donât have much time before the ceremony, so Iâm claiming the bathroom first. Try not to miss me too much while Iâm gone.â
Hotch chuckled softly as you disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water quickly filling the room. He loosened his tie, sitting on the edge of the bed and glancing around. The space was neat, understated, with soft lighting that made everything feel strangely intimate.
He caught himself staring at the bathroom door longer than necessary, then stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair.
When you emerged a few minutes later, your face freshly washed and your lipstick reapplied, you looked radiant. Hotch found himself at a loss for words, though he masked it by stepping into the bathroom with a curt, âYour turn to wait.â
The cool water on his face did little to clear his mind. By the time he stepped back into the room, fully composed, you were seated on the edge of the bed, slipping your shoes on.
âAll set?â he asked, his voice steadier than he felt.
You glanced up at him, your smile soft but teasing. âReady when you are, Fred Astaire.â
He smirked, grabbing his jacket and gesturing toward the door. âAfter you.â
As you walked ahead, Hotch allowed himself a brief moment to exhale, the weight of the growing tension settling over him like a second skin. The day had barely begun, and already, he found himself wondering just how long he could keep his thoughtsâand his feelingsâin check.
The sun filtered through the trees, casting soft, dappled light on the guests as they made their way toward the outdoor ceremony space. Hotch walked beside you, the sound of gravel crunching underfoot filling the brief silence. He couldnât help but glance at you as you adjusted your dress, the soft fabric shifting gracefully as you moved.
âYou look...â Hotch began, his voice quieter than usual. He cleared his throat, glancing ahead at the clusters of chairs. âYou look incredible.â
You turned to him, surprised. âHotch, was that a compliment? Are you feeling okay?â
He smirked, his lips twitching. âIâve been meaning to tell you all day,â he admitted, his gaze steady now. âJust... took a bit of courage.â
Your playful grin faltered slightly, your eyes softening as they met his. There was a flicker of something in your expressionâsomething unspoken, almost vulnerable. Before you could respond, a voice cut through the moment.
âOh my God, is that you?â
You barely had time to turn before a woman approached, her enthusiasm unmistakable. She was around your age, with bright eyes and a warm smile that radiated familiarity.
âWow, itâs been forever! How are you?â the woman gushed, pulling you into a quick hug.
Hotch stepped back slightly, his hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he watched the exchange.
âIâm good,â you replied, your voice friendly but a bit guarded. âHotch, this is Taylor. We were in the same program in grad school. Taylor, this is Aaron Hotchner.â
Taylorâs eyes lit up as she turned to him, her smile widening. âOh, Aaron. You must be her boyfriend!â
Hotch blinked, the words catching him off guard. He opened his mouth to respond but paused, glancing at you as you froze slightly, your lips parting as if to correct her. But something stopped youâcuriosity, maybe, or hesitation.
Instead, Hotch smiled faintly, extending a hand. âItâs nice to meet you,â he said, his tone calm and composed, deliberately sidestepping the assumption.
Taylor shook his hand enthusiastically. âIâve heard so much about this wedding. Youâre both going to have such a great time! Anyway, I should grab my seat before I lose it. So good to see you again!â
She darted off, leaving the two of you standing there in her wake.
You turned to Hotch, your brow raised. âBoyfriend?â you asked quietly, your voice low enough that only he could hear.
Hotch glanced at you as the crowd began to settle into their seats, his expression calm but with a glint of dry humor in his eyes. âIs âbossâ better?â
Your lips quirked into a smirk as you shook your head, letting out a soft laugh. âTouchĂ©.â
The ceremony began before either of you could say more, but the weight of the word lingered between you. Hotch tried to focus on the officiantâs words, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the quiet murmurs of the gathered crowd. But his mind kept drifting back to your reactionâand to the flicker of a thought he didnât dare voice.
Maybe the assumption wasnât as far-fetched as it seemed.
Hotch settled into his seat beside you as the ceremony began, the soft murmur of conversation fading into a respectful silence. The bride and groom stood at the altar under an archway adorned with delicate flowers, the golden light of the late afternoon casting everything in a warm, dreamlike glow.
He tried to focus on the ceremony, the gentle cadence of the officiantâs voice blending with the rustle of the trees. But your presence beside him made it difficult.
The chairs were close together, the space between you almost nonexistent. He could feel the warmth of your arm just brushing against his, a subtle contact that sent a current through him more powerful than it should have. You shifted slightly, your knee brushing his, and Hotch held his breath for a moment, willing himself to remain composed.
When the officiant spoke about loveâabout commitment, vulnerability, and the courage it took to give yourself fully to another personâHotch found himself watching your profile instead of the couple at the altar.
Your expression was soft; your lips curved into a faint smile as you listened. There was a light in your eyes, one that made his chest tighten unexpectedly. You looked beautiful, yes, but it wasnât just that. It was the way you seemed so present, so genuine, so effortlessly yourself.
And for a moment, he let himself imagine.
He imagined reaching for your hand, letting his fingers curl around yours in the quiet simplicity of the moment. He imagined what it might be like to sit beside you at a ceremony like this as something moreâmore than friends, more than colleagues. The thought was fleeting but potent, leaving a weight in his chest he couldnât quite shake.
When the bride and groom exchanged their vows, their voices filled with emotion, Hotch stole a glance at you. A soft smile played on your lips, and you leaned forward slightly, your focus entirely on the couple.
âItâs beautiful, isnât it?â you whispered, your voice so quiet he barely caught it.
He nodded, his throat tightening. âIt is.â
Your gaze flicked to him briefly, your smile widening just a fraction before you returned your attention to the altar.
The ceremony continued, the romantic atmosphere growing thicker as the coupleâs love story unfolded in front of the guests. When the brideâs voice cracked with emotion as she promised to love her partner for the rest of her life, Hotchâs gaze shifted back to you.
You were blinking quickly, your hands folded in your lap, and Hotch recognized the subtle effort to hold back tears. It was a side of you he rarely sawâvulnerable, unguardedâand it stirred something deep within him.
Without thinking, he let his knee press more firmly against yours, a quiet gesture of solidarity. You didnât pull away. Instead, you tilted your head slightly toward him, your shoulder brushing his for just a moment.
By the time the ceremony ended, with cheers and applause filling the air as the bride and groom shared their first kiss, Hotch found himself acutely aware of every inch of space between youâof how close you were, yet still not close enough.
As you turned to him, your eyes bright with unshed tears and a soft smile lighting up your face, Hotch realized heâd never been less composed in his life.
The cocktail hour unfolded in the garden, a charming space strung with delicate fairy lights and buzzing with soft laughter and the clinking of glasses. Guests mingled near tables laden with hors dâoeuvres, the scent of fresh flowers mingling with the crisp evening air. Hotch stood by your side, his hands resting lightly in his pockets, watching as you stared out at the crowd, your expression thoughtful.
You hadnât said much since the ceremony ended. It wasnât like you to be quiet for so long, and he could see the internal battle playing out behind your eyes. Your shoulders were slightly tense, your gaze distant as you watched couples and old friends chatter happily around you.
âEverything okay?â he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.
You glanced up at him, your lips curving into a faint smile. âYeah. Just⊠thinking.â
Hotch didnât press. He knew you well enough to know that if you wanted to share, you would. So, he waited, his presence steady and unintrusive as you worked through whatever was on your mind.
Finally, you let out a soft sigh, leaning slightly against the high-top table between you. âYou ever watch something beautifulâlike that ceremonyâand feel⊠I donât know, happy for them, but also kind of⊠sad?â
He tilted his head, his brows furrowing slightly. âSad?â
You nodded, your fingers idly tracing the rim of your glass. âNot for them, of course. They were perfect. Itâs justâŠâ You hesitated, then let the words spill out, your voice quieter. âIt makes you wonder if that kind of thing is in the cards for you, you know? If someone could ever love you like thatâunconditionally, fully. If someone would show up for you, every single time.â
Hotchâs chest tightened at your words. He could see the vulnerability in your eyes, the doubt you were trying so hard to mask. For a moment, he was at a loss for what to sayânot because he didnât know the answer, but because the truth came so quickly and easily that it startled him.
He straightened slightly, his voice steady as he replied, âItâll happen for you. And when it does, the guy will be the luckiest man in the world.â
You froze, your glass halfway to your lips, your eyes snapping to his. The disbelief on your face caught him off guard, and he realized too late how much heâd revealed.
He cleared his throat, quickly adding, âNot that Iâd know, of course. Divorced, widowed, single fatherânot exactly a stellar track record.â He offered a small, self-deprecating smirk. âIâm hardly an expert on what works.â
You blinked at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. The sound was light, genuine, and for a brief moment, Hotch felt a flicker of relief that heâd managed to deflect.
âWow, Hotchner,â you said, your laughter fading into a warm smile. âWay to lift me up and immediately knock yourself down.â
âJust keeping things balanced,â he replied, his tone dry but his eyes warm.
You shook your head, still smiling, but he could see the wheels turning in your mind. Your expression softened, and for a moment, he wondered if you were going to say something elseâsomething that might push the conversation back into deeper waters.
Before you could, a cheerful voice interrupted.
âOh my God, there you are!â
Both of you turned to see a small group of your college and grad school friends approaching, their smiles wide and their arms outstretched as they greeted you enthusiastically.
Hotch stepped back slightly, letting you take center stage as they enveloped you in hugs and started chattering all at once. You lit up in their presence, your wit and charm on full display as you bantered back and forth with them effortlessly.
And though he stood quietly on the periphery, Hotch couldnât help but smile. Watching you like thisâvibrant, confident, and so fully yourselfâhe couldnât imagine a world where someone wouldnât see what he saw.
But as he met your gaze briefly across the group, catching the subtle flicker of something lingering in your eyes, he knew the conversation wasnât over. Not yet.
The introductions at the cocktail party unfolded with an ease that surprised even Hotch. One by one, your old college and grad school friends greeted him, their initial curiosity about the date you brought quickly melting into admiration. Heâd never thought of himself as particularly charmingâpolished and professional, yes, but charming? That was usually Morganâs department.
But as he exchanged handshakes and polite banter, he could feel their approval growing. They teased you relentlessly about him, their questions playful and occasionally pointed. And you, ever quick-witted, deflected with a grace and humor that kept the mood light, though your blush betrayed you more than once.
âHeâs even more put-together than you let on,â one of your friends teased, nudging your arm.
âDonât let it fool you,â you replied, smirking at Hotch. âHeâs secretly a pain.â
Hotch raised a brow, his tone dry but warm. âOnly when necessary.â
The group laughed, and you glanced at him, your smile softening in a way that made the noise around him fade for just a moment.
If your friends noticed the subtle looks passing between you and Hotchâthe way your eyes lingered on him or how his posture seemed to relax in your presenceâthey didnât say anything outright. But their knowing smiles spoke volumes.
By the time the cocktail hour wound down and everyone was ushered toward the reception hall, Hotch felt more comfortable than he had in weeks. He hadnât expected to enjoy himself, but with you by his side, the evening felt lighter, more vivid.
The reception began with all the hallmarks of a joyous celebration: a lively band, glasses clinking in toasts, and the soft glow of candles casting a romantic haze over the room. Hotch and you were seated at a round table with some of your friends, their easy chatter filling the gaps between the speeches and the plated courses.
At first, the chemistry between you and Hotch was subtleâa shared glance during the bride and groomâs first dance, the way his arm brushed yours as he leaned closer to hear you over the music. But as the evening progressed, it became impossible to ignore.
âAre you going to dance?â you asked, your tone teasing as you sipped your wine.
âEventually,â he replied, his lips twitching into a small smile. âAre you?â
You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with mischief. âI donât know. That depends. Are you going to make me dance alone?â
Hotch leaned slightly closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. âIâd never let you dance alone.â
The words hung between you, the air charged with something unspoken yet undeniable. For a moment, neither of you moved, your gazes locked in a way that made the noise of the room fade into the background.
One of your friends called your name, breaking the spell, and you turned with a quick laugh, brushing off the moment as though it hadnât happened. But Hotch noticed the way your hand lingered on your wine glass, the slight flush creeping up your neck.
As the reception continued, the moments between you grew bolder. A comment from you that lingered just long enough to feel intimate. A brush of his hand against yours as you both reached for something on the table. The way his gaze followed you when you stepped away to talk to someone else, his focus sharper, more intent than he realized.
By the time the band struck up a slower tune, Hotch found himself standing, offering you his hand before he could think twice.
âCare to dance?â he asked, his voice steady but softer than usual.
You blinked up at him, surprised for only a moment before your lips curved into a smile. âI thought youâd never ask.â
As you took his hand and allowed him to guide you onto the dance floor, Hotch felt a quiet certainty settle over him. Whatever lines had existed between youâcoworkers, friends, alliesâwere beginning to blur. And for once, he wasnât in a hurry to redraw them.
Hotch turned to face you, his other hand resting lightly at your waist as you settled your free hand on his shoulder. The contact was light at first, almost cautious, but as the music swelled, he felt you relax, your movements fluid as you let him guide you through the gentle rhythm.
âYou werenât kidding about being a good dancer,â you teased, tilting your head to meet his gaze. âWhereâve you been hiding this talent?â
Hotch smirked faintly, his lips twitching upward. âItâs a rare occasion that calls for it.â
âWell,â you said, your voice soft but tinged with mischief, âconsider me impressed.â
He didnât respond immediately, his focus shifting briefly to the way your hand fit so perfectly in his, the way your eyes lit up even under the dim glow of the candles. Finally, he said, âYou should be. I donât make exceptions for just anyone.â
Your laugh was quiet, a warm ripple that he felt as much as heard. âIs that right? I should feel honored then.â
âYou should,â he replied, the faintest hint of a smile still playing at his lips.
The conversation lulled, but it wasnât uncomfortable. The silence felt full, weighted by the unspoken tension that had been simmering all day. You swayed together, your movements perfectly synchronized, and for a moment, Hotch allowed himself to forget everything elseâthe cases, the team, the boundaries he usually held so firmly in place.
As the music slowed further, you tilted your head, your eyes searching his. âWhat are you thinking?â
Hotch hesitated, his gaze holding yours for a beat too long. âThat you shouldnât doubt whatâs in store for you,â he said quietly. âNot after today.â
Your brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across your face. âWhat do you mean?â
He paused, considering his words carefully. âYou deserve what you saw at that ceremony. Someone who shows up, who doesnât hesitate. And when it happens, itâll be because they know just how lucky they are.â
Your breath hitched, and for a moment, he thought you might pull away. Instead, you blinked up at him, your expression unreadable but undeniably softer. âHotchââ
Before you could finish, the music swelled into its final notes, the moment broken as the song came to an end. Couples around you began to clap politely, the spell of the dance slowly lifting.
You stepped back slightly, your hand lingering in his for just a moment longer than necessary. âThank you,â you said, your voice quiet but sincere.
Hotch nodded, his throat tight. âAnytime.â
As you turned to head back to the table, Hotch stayed where he was for a moment, watching the way your shoulders seemed a little more relaxed, the way you glanced back at him briefly before rejoining your friends.
He exhaled slowly, his hands falling to his sides. Whatever line youâd both been toeing all evening had grown impossibly blurred, and he wasnât sure if it was something to step back fromâor cross entirely.
The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses surrounded Hotch as he followed you back toward the table, the energy of the reception lively yet intimate. Before either of you could sit, the bride approached, her radiant smile lighting up the room. Her white gown swayed slightly as she moved, the sparkling embellishments catching the light.
âThere you are!â the bride exclaimed, her voice warm and effusive as she wrapped you in a quick hug. âIâve been looking for you all evening.â
âHi, Annie,â you said, your tone fond as you pulled back. âYou look stunning. Everything about today has been absolutely perfect.â
Annie beamed, her hands clasping yours. âThank you. But ook at you! And you must be...â She turned to Hotch, her expression curious and eager.
âThis isââ you began, but Annie cut you off before you could finish.
âOh, I knew it!â Annie said, clapping her hands together and glancing between you and Hotch with unrestrained glee. âI always said youâd find someone who looks at you the way he does. You deserve it so much. After everything youâve been through. Terrible guy after terrible guy. Iâm so happy for you.â
Hotch froze for a fraction of a second, her words catching him completely off guard. He glanced at you, noting the way your eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping up your neck.
Annie, oblivious to the tension sheâd just created, kept going. âI mean, honestly, itâs about time. Look at you twoâyouâre such a beautiful couple. And the way he watches you? Like youâre the only person in the room? Come on.â
Hotchâs lips parted, his usual composure slipping as he scrambled for a response. Should he correct her? Deflect? Or...
Instead, he did neither.
âYouâre right about one thing,â he said, his voice steady but quieter, as if weighing each word carefully. âShe deserves everything. More than anyone I know.â
His gaze lingered on you as he spoke, watching the way your expression softened into something he couldnât quite name. For a moment, Annieâs chatter faded into the background, the room seeming to grow smaller around the three of you.
You opened your mouth to respond, but Annieâs delighted laughter filled the silence first. âSee? I knew it,â she said, her tone triumphant. âI knew youâd get that fairytale ending you always talked about wanting.âÂ
Hotch smiled faintly, his hands slipping into his pockets as Annie hugged you again. âThank you for coming,â she said, her voice still warm as she pulled away. âIt means so much to have you both here.â
You nodded, your voice unusually soft. âOf course, Annie. We wouldnât have missed it.â
Annie turned back to the dance floor, leaving the two of you standing there, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. You glanced at him, your brows knitting together slightly as if you wanted to ask something but werenât sure where to start. Heâs sure from the array of comments heâs thrown at you tonight or the charged energy building between you, you must have a few.
Hotch offered a small smile, his voice low. âSheâs a good friend.â
âSheâs... enthusiastic,â you said, a weak laugh escaping you.
âEnthusiastic,â he repeated, amusement flickering briefly across his face. âAnd observant, apparently.â
Your blush deepened, but before the conversation could go any further, another group of your friends waved you over from the bar, calling your name.
âI guess weâre popular tonight,â you said, your tone lighter as you gestured for him to follow.
Hotch nodded, trailing behind you, but his thoughts lingered on Annieâs words. He wasnât sure what had prompted him to agree with her so openly, but as he watched you laugh with your friends, something told him he wasnât wrong.
You deserved everything. And perhaps, just perhaps, it wasnât impossible to imagine being the one to give it to you. He was just glad he could try, even if it was just for tonight.
The energy in the room shifted as the bride announced the bouquet toss, her cheerful voice drawing a crowd of eager participants to the dance floor. Laughter and playful shouts filled the space as single women jostled for prime positions, their eyes gleaming with competitive determination.
You, however, stayed firmly rooted at the edge of the room, leaning casually against a table with your arms crossed. Hotch stood beside you, holding the glass he was nursing on the table.
âNot interested?â he asked, glancing at you, a teasing flint in his eyes.
âNot a chance,â you replied, your tone wry. âIâm perfectly fine over here, out of the line of fire.â
Hotch chuckled softly. âStrategic decision. I can respect that.â
You grinned, turning your attention back to the bride, who was hyping up the crowd with exaggerated gestures. The band struck up a playful tune, and the anticipation in the room reached its peak as Annie turned her back to the group, bouquet in hand.
The toss was dramatic, the bouquet soaring high into the air in a perfect arc. The crowd erupted into shouts and cheers as hands shot up, grasping for the bundle of flowers.
But no one caught it.
Instead, the bouquet ricocheted off a hand, sailed over the group entirely, and arced straight toward you.
You barely had time to react before it bonked you squarely on the head.
Hotch blinked, momentarily stunned as the bouquet bounced off you and landed unceremoniously on the table beside you. There was a beat of silence before laughter erupted around the room, the crowd clearly amused by the unexpected trajectory.
You stared at the bouquet, your mouth slightly agape, before looking up at him, your expression caught somewhere between mortification and disbelief.
âSeriously?â you said, your voice rising just enough to carry over the laughter. âI wasnât even participating!â
Hotchâs lips twitched, his amusement barely contained as he raised an eyebrow. âLooks like fate had other plans.â
âFate needs to work on its aim,â you muttered, grabbing the bouquet and holding it up like evidence in a court case.
Hotch allowed himself a full laugh, the sound rare but genuine. âOr maybe itâs trying to tell you something,â he teased, his voice lower as he leaned slightly closer. âMetaphorically speaking, of course.â
Your eyes narrowed at him, though the corners of your mouth betrayed the start of a grin. âAre you enjoying this?â
âImmensely,â he said, his tone deadpan but his eyes gleaming with humor.
You shook your head, muttering something about cosmic irony as you placed the bouquet back on the table. But Hotch could see the faint blush creeping up your neck, and the way your lips curved into a reluctant smile despite your feigned indignation.
As the laughter in the room began to settle and the bride called for the next event, Hotch leaned slightly closer to you, his voice quieter now.
âFor what itâs worth,â he said, his tone softer but no less teasing, âI think the roses suit you.â He pulled a few petals from your hair.
You shot him a look, but your smile widened, and for a brief moment, the space between you felt smaller than ever. âIâm more of a sunflower girl,â You played along.Â
The bandâs leader tapped the microphone, his cheerful voice cutting through the chatter of the reception. âAll right, folks, this oneâs for the happy couples out there! Join us on the dance floor for one last dance before we call it a night.â
Around the room, couples began to rise, hands intertwined as they made their way to the dance floor. The lights dimmed slightly, casting the space in a warm, golden glow. Hotch stayed in his seat, his gaze drifting to you as you sipped the last of your wine, clearly intent on remaining at the table.
He set his glass down with deliberate precision and stood, extending his hand toward you.
âCome on,â he said, his voice calm but firm.
You looked up at him, your brow furrowing. âWhat are you doing?â
âWeâre dancing,â he replied simply, his tone leaving little room for argument.
Your lips parted in surprise. âHotch, thatâs for couplesââ
âAccording to your friends,â he interrupted, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk, âweâre a couple tonight. Might as well play the part.â
For a moment, you stared at him, clearly torn between amusement and incredulity. But then you sighed, setting your glass down and placing your hand in his. âFine,â you said, standing with exaggerated reluctance. âBut if this ends up being another metaphor, Iâm blaming you.â
Hotch chuckled softly, leading you to the dance floor. The band struck up a slow, tender melody, the kind that wrapped itself around you and seemed to quiet the world.
He turned to face you, his hand resting lightly on your waist as you settled your free hand on his shoulder. The contact was familiar now, but this time, the air between you felt heavierâcharged. You moved together effortlessly, swaying in time with the music, your steps perfectly in sync.
âSee?â he said quietly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. âNot so bad.â
You rolled your eyes but smiled, your fingers tightening slightly on his shoulder. âYou really are impossible, you know that?â
âIâve been told,â he replied, his tone dry but his expression softer than usual.
The conversation lulled, and for a moment, there was nothing but the music and the quiet sound of your breaths mingling in the space between you.
Hotchâs eyes dropped to your face, taking in the way your lashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks, the faint flush that lingered from the eveningâs laughter and wine. You looked up at him then, your gaze meeting his, and the intensity of the moment hit him like a wave.
âYouâre staring,â you said softly, your voice tinged with nervous amusement.
He didnât look away. âMaybe I am.â
Your breath hitched, and Hotch felt your hand shift slightly on his shoulder as though you were steadying yourself. The tension between you was palpable now, a tangible thing that neither of you seemed willingâor ableâto break.
âYouâre full of surprises tonight,â you said, your tone quieter now, almost tentative.
Hotchâs lips quirked into a faint smile. âSo are you.â
The song began to wind down, the final notes stretching into a soft, lingering cadence. The room seemed to grow smaller, quieter, as though it held only the two of you.
As the music ended, Hotch realized he hadnât let go of your waist, and you hadnât stepped back. For a brief, breathless moment, you both stayed where you were, the silence between you heavy with possibilities.
And though neither of you said it aloud, the line between what you were and what you could be had never felt thinner.
The walk back to the hotel room was quiet, the air between you and Hotch humming with the kind of unspoken tension that had lingered all night. The elevator ride was no better; you stood beside him, close enough that your arm brushed his, and though neither of you spoke, the weight of the evening seemed to settle in the confined space.
By the time the door to the room clicked shut behind you, the silence was thick. You slipped off your shoes with a sigh, placing them neatly by the door as you turned to him with a tired but genuine smile.
âWell,â you said, your voice soft, âthat was... something.â
Hotch nodded, setting his jacket neatly over the back of a chair. âIt was.â
You glanced at him, your smile tilting into something teasing. âThatâs all youâve got? Just âit wasâ?â
He smirked faintly, loosening his tie. âI think the bouquet toss and the dance floor antics speak for themselves.â
You laughed, the sound warm and familiar, and Hotch felt his shoulders relax slightly despite the tension coursing through him. He watched as you moved to your bag, pulling out a pair of comfortable clothes before disappearing into the bathroom.
The sound of running water filled the room, and Hotch took the opportunity to change into a plain T-shirt and sweats, folding his dress shirt with precise care. When you returned, your makeup washed off, and your hair pulled back, you looked softer somehowâmore yourself than you had all night, and it hit him with a quiet force he wasnât prepared for. Sure, heâd seen you in casual clothes before, but something about the soft cotton clothes, the clean face, and the messy pulled-back hairâŠit was a sight that warmed him somehow.Â
âYouâre up,â you said, gesturing toward the bathroom.
Hotch nodded, slipping past you and closing the door behind him. The cool water against his face did little to calm his thoughts, and when he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he found his usual composure slightly fractured.
By the time he returned to the room, you were already under the covers, your head resting against the pillow as you scrolled absentmindedly through your phone. He hesitated for a moment, the sight of you thereâso comfortable, so familiarâstirring something deep in his chest.
âAre you going to stand there all night?â you asked, glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow.
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he moved to the other side of the bed. Sliding in beside you, he was acutely aware of the spaceâor lack thereofâbetween you. When was the last time he shared a bed with someone?
The room fell into a soft silence, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting long shadows against the walls. You set your phone down, turning onto your side to face him, your expression unreadable but open.
âThanks for tonight,â you said quietly. âFor coming with me. For... everything.â
He met your gaze, his voice steady but softer than usual. âYou donât have to thank me. I wanted to be there.â
Your lips quirked into a faint smile, your eyes searching his as though you were trying to decipher something you werenât quite ready to name.
For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence stretching but never feeling uncomfortable. Hotch could feel the warmth of your presence, the subtle weight of your gaze, and it was enough to make his throat tighten.
âYouâre staring again,â you said, your tone light but tinged with something quieter, something unsure.
âMaybe I am,â he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your breath caught, and Hotch felt the space between you shrinkânot physically, but emotionally, the air thick with everything unspoken.
âWhy do you do that?â you asked after a moment, your voice quieter now.
âDo what?â
âLook at me like that.â
Hotch hesitated, his throat tightening as he searched for the right words. âLike what?â
You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. âLike youâre trying to figure me out. Like you already know something I donât.â
The corner of his mouth twitched, his voice soft but steady. âMaybe I do.â
You blinked, your breath catching just slightly, and Hotch felt the air between you grow impossibly still.
For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence crackling with tension that neither seemed willing to break. Then, as if pulling yourself out of the moment, you let out a small laugh, your tone turning lighter.
âYouâre an enigma, Aaron Hotchner,â you said, your smile faint but genuine as you turned onto your back, breaking the spell.
He exhaled slowly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he reached over to turn off the lamp. âGoodnight,â he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful.
âGoodnight,â you replied softly, your words carrying a warmth that settled over the room like a blanket.
As the darkness enveloped them, Hotch lay still, the steady sound of your breathing filling the silence. The unspoken connection between youâthe moments that had lingered and stretched throughout the eveningâfelt as tangible as the bed they shared.
And though he knew crossing the line between friendship and something more was fraught with uncertainty, Hotch couldnât shake the quiet realization that maybeâjust maybeâyou were worth the risk.
Hotch stirred awake in the dark, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains casting soft shadows across the room. For a moment, he wasnât sure what had woken himâa sound, a shiftâbut then he became aware of the warmth pressed against him, the steady rise and fall of your breathing.
Somehow, in the night, the two of you had gravitated toward each other. His arm was draped over your waist, his hand resting lightly on your hip, and your head was nestled against his chest. Your hand, delicate and warm, had found its way to his side, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him.
He froze, his breath hitching as he registered the intimacy of the moment. Every instinct told him to pull away, to put space between you before you woke up, but he couldnât. He didnât want to.
The soft scent of your hair drifted up to him, and without thinking, his thumb began to trace small, absent circles against your side. The simple act sent a rush of warmth through him, a tenderness he couldnât quite contain.
You stirred slightly, your body shifting just enough for him to realize you were waking up. His breath caught again, his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he waitedâhalf expecting you to pull away or panic.
But you didnât. Instead, you tilted your head up, your eyes blinking sleepily in the dim light as they met his.
Neither of you spoke. The silence between you was thick, electric, the air charged with a tension that felt almost unbearable.
Hotchâs hand stilled on your side, his palm now resting against the curve of your hip. He watched you closely, his eyes searching yours for any sign that he should pull back. But you didnât move away. If anything, you seemed to lean into him, your gaze softening as you stared at him in the quiet.
His chest tightened as he felt the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. The feelings heâd been trying to push aside for monthsâyears, maybeâwere suddenly impossible to ignore.
And then, you moved.
Your hand slid upward, hesitating briefly before coming to rest against his chest. Slowly, tentatively, you shifted closer, your lips brushing his in a kiss so soft it sent a shiver down his spine.
For a moment, neither of you moved, the kiss tender and delicate, as though you were both testing the boundaries of something fragile and new. But then he felt your hand tighten against his chest, and his restraint broke.
Hotch deepened the kiss, his free hand sliding up your back to cradle the base of your neck, his fingers threading gently through your hair. Your lips parted for him, and the kiss grew more heated, more insistent, as though all the tension that had built between you over the years was finally finding its release.
You shifted closer still, your body pressing against his, and Hotch couldnât help the quiet sound that escaped him. He felt your hand slide up to his jaw, your fingers brushing against the stubble there as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss even further.
It was slow but consuming, a meeting of everything unspoken and everything undeniable. He couldnât tell where he ended, and you began, the lines between friendship and something more completely and utterly erased.
When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the dark, your forehead rested against his as you looked up at him with wide, searching eyes.
âAaron,â you whispered, your voice soft but steady, filled with something he couldnât quite name.
He swallowed hard, his fingers still tangled in your hair, as he let out a shaky breath. âSay my name like that again,â he murmured, his voice low and rough, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles.
You laughed softly, your hand brushing against his cheek as you leaned in again, this time with more certainty.
And as your lips met his once more, Hotch felt the last of his walls crumble, leaving only the quiet, undeniable truth: he didnât want to hold back anymore. Not with you. Not ever.
Hotchâs pulse quickened as your lips met his again, this time with a heat that left no room for hesitation. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate but charged with the kind of intensity that came from years of unspoken longing. Your hand slid from his jaw to his chest, your fingers splaying against the fabric of his shirt as if grounding yourself in the moment.
He couldnât think, couldnât breathe. The world outside this room ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the dim light of the night.
When your leg shifted, brushing against his, a low sound escaped his throatâa soft, guttural hum that he hadnât meant to let slip. You froze for the briefest moment, your eyes flicking up to his, and the sight of youâso close, so vulnerable, so his in that instantâwas almost too much.
âIs this okay?â you whispered, your voice breathless and tinged with something fragile, like you were teetering on the edge of disbelief.
Hotch cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he nodded. âItâs more than okay,â he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
You smiled softly, and he couldnât stop himself from leaning forward, pressing another kiss to your lips. This one was slower but no less fervent, his hand sliding from your face to rest against the curve of your waist, pulling you closer.
Your body shifted against his, your hands wanderingâtentative at first, but quickly growing bolder. One hand curled around the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in the short hairs there, while the other slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, your palm pressing against the warm skin of his chest.
Hotchâs breath hitched, his own hands growing less restrained as they skimmed your back, tracing the line of your spine. The soft, sleepy rhythm of your breathing was broken by quiet, barely audible gasps as his hands found the curve of your hips, pulling you flush against him.
âAaron,â you murmured against his lips, the sound of his name sending a shiver down his spine.
His lips left yours, trailing a path along your jawline to the soft curve of your neck. He felt the way your body arched into his touch, the subtle press of your hips against his igniting something deeper, something he could no longer hold back.
âYou have no idea,â he whispered against your skin, his voice low and uneven, âhow long Iâve wanted this.â
Your fingers tightened against him, and when he pulled back to look at you, your eyes were glassy, your lips slightly parted. âMe too,â you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
His restraint was unraveling with every second, every touch, every soft sound that escaped your lips. But he forced himself to pause, his forehead resting against yours as he took a steadying breath.
âTell me to stop,â he said softly, his hands stilling against your waist even as every fiber of his being begged him to keep going. âIf you need me to, I will.â
You shook your head slightly, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned up to kiss him again, slow but filled with unmistakable intent. âI donât want you to stop,â you whispered, the words a quiet promise.
Hotch exhaled shakily, his lips capturing yours again as he shifted, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. The weight of you pressed against him, the warmth of your skin beneath his handsâit was everything he hadnât let himself dream of, and now that it was happening, he couldnât imagine ever letting it go.
The kisses grew more urgent, more consuming, the sleepy haze between you dissolving into something sharper, hungrier. His hands roamed your body with a reverence that bordered on worship, memorizing every curve, every tremble, every quiet sigh that spilled from your lips.
Hotchâs breath hitched as you shifted over him, your hands braced on his chest for balance. The delicate weight of you, your thighs straddling his hips, was intoxicating in a way he hadnât anticipated. Pressing your center against him, a breathy groan left his lips. His hands found their way to your waist, his fingers splaying across the soft fabric of your shirt as though memorizing every detail of this moment.
Your hair fell slightly into your face, and you looked down at him with a mixture of nervousness and desire that sent his pulse hammering in his chest. He met your gaze, his eyes dark and searching, trying to convey everything he felt but couldnât say aloud.
âAre you sure?â he asked, his voice low, the words a quiet plea for confirmation. He knew after this there was no going back.Â
You nodded, your smile soft but steady as you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was equal parts tender and heated. âIâve never been more sure,â you whispered against his mouth.
The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate at first, but quickly growing more fervent. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping him as though anchoring yourself to him, while his hands slid upward, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the side.
For a moment, he simply looked at you, his gaze tracing the lines of your body, the soft glow of the moonlight making your skin seem almost ethereal. âYouâre beautiful,â he murmured, the words spilling out before he could stop them.
You flushed under his gaze, but instead of shying away, you leaned down, kissing him again with a new intensity. Your hands found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward until he helped you remove it entirely. The cool air brushed against his skin, but all he could focus on was the warmth of you, the way your touch left a trail of fire in its wake.
As the last remnants of clothing were shed, the barrier between you dissolved entirely. You settled back over him, your bare skin pressing against his, and he let out a low, shaky exhale as his hands gripped your hips, steadying you.
âGod, you have no idea what you do to me,â he admitted, his voice rough with emotion as he looked up at you.
You smiled softly, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned down to kiss him again, slow and deliberate, as though savoring every moment. âI think Iâm starting to figure it out,â you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with a quiet confidence that made his chest tighten.
Hotchâs hands guided your movements, his touch firm but reverent, as though you were something preciousâsomething he didnât want to break. The connection between you was electric, every touch, every kiss deepening the bond that had been building for years.
As your bodies moved together, the world around you faded completely, leaving only the quiet hum of your shared breaths and the unspoken promise that whatever had changed between you tonight was something neither of you couldâor wouldâever take back.
As you rocked against him, his breath hitched, and he couldnât stop the quiet groan that escaped him. âYouâre incredible,â he murmured, his hands cupping your face as he pulled you down into a kiss that was as tender as it was consuming.
When you pulled back, your gaze locked with his, your expression soft but filled with intensity. âI never knew it could feel like this,â you admitted, your voice quiet but raw with emotion.
He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he whispered, âNeither did I.â
The words hung between you for a moment, the weight of them adding a new depth to the passion that had overtaken you. And as you moved together, Hotch felt a sense of completeness that he hadnât known he was missingâsomething he realized, in this moment, he could never let go of.
Hotchâs breath came in uneven gasps, his body attuned to every shift of yours, every quiet sound that spilled from your lips. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to guide you, to hold you steady as you moved together.
âYouâre incredible,â he murmured again, his voice thick and low. His eyes traced the line of your jaw, the way your lips parted as you moved, your body responding to his in a way that made his pulse race.
Your hand slid up his chest, your fingers curling lightly around the base of his neck as you leaned closer. âI donât think you realize,â you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion, âwhat youâre doing to me.â
His lips curved into a faint, breathless smirk as he leaned up, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was deep and consuming. âI think I have an idea,â he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. âBut I wouldnât mind hearing it.â
You laughed quietly, the sound trailing off into a soft sigh as his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. âYou make it hard to think,â you admitted, your tone teasing but edged with something deeper, more vulnerable.
âGood,â he replied, his hands shifting to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. âBecause right now, all I can think about is you.â
Your eyes met his, and the intensity of your gaze made his chest tighten. âI want this,â you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. âI want you.â
Hotch exhaled shakily, his forehead resting against yours as he slowed your movements, savoring the connection between you. âYou have me,â he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. âYouâve always had me.â
Your lips parted as if to respond, but instead, you kissed him again, your fingers threading through his hair as you pressed closer, deeper, until there was no space left between you.
The rhythm between you was slow but deliberate, each movement, each touch, carrying a weight that neither of you could ignore. It wasnât just passionâit was everything you hadnât said, every unspoken feeling finally given form.
When you pulled back slightly, your breath brushing against his lips, Hotch found himself gripping your hips just a little tighter, grounding himself in the reality of you above him. Your skin glowed in the faint moonlight, and the look in your eyesâdark, heavy with desireâtook what little restraint he had left and shattered it.
âAaron Hotchner,â you whispered, your voice breathless, a mix of teasing and reverence. âYouâve been holding out on me.â
He let out a low, quiet laugh, his hands sliding up your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate lines. âI could say the same about you,â he murmured, his voice rough as his lips brushed the curve of your jaw.
You shivered under his touch, your lips curling into a small, wicked smile. âAre you saying Iâm full of surprises?â you asked, your tone playful, your hips rolling against his in a way that made his breath catch.
Hotch let out a soft groan, his head tipping back against the pillow as his hands found their way to your thighs. âIâm saying,â he said, his voice low and filled with heat, âthat you might just be the death of me.â
You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his, teasing him with the barest of touches. âI guess that makes us even,â you whispered, your words trailing off into a kiss that was anything but tentative.
The kiss deepened, your movements growing slower, more deliberate as your hands roamed over him, pulling him impossibly closer. Hotchâs fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his other hand tracing the curve of your back in a way that made you arch into him.
âYou feel incredible,â he breathed against your lips, the words spilling out before he could stop them. âLike you were made for me.â
As the room filled with nothing but the quiet sound of your breaths and the faint rustle of sheets, Hotch couldnât help but marvel at how natural this feltâhow right it was to have you like this, in his arms, every unspoken word replaced by the undeniable connection between you.
And as the tension between you reached its peak, he realized with startling clarity that this wasnât just a fleeting momentâthis was something neither of you could ever undo. And he didnât want to.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Your face was still buried against his neck, and he could feel the rapid thrum of your heartbeat gradually slowing against his chest. Hotch tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there as he tried to find the right words for what he was feeling.
It wasnât fleeting. It wasnât casual. It was something far deeper, something he hadnât allowed himself to believe he could feel again.
You stirred slightly, shifting so you could meet his gaze, your hair falling messily around your face. Your eyes searched his, and the vulnerability thereâsoft and unguardedâmade his throat tighten.
âWell,â you murmured, your voice quiet but tinged with a nervous laugh, âthat just happened.â
Hotchâs lips twitched into a faint smile, his thumb brushing lazily against your back. âIt did,â he replied softly, his voice steady despite the emotions threatening to bubble to the surface.
You blinked down at him, your brow furrowing slightly. âAre you okay?â you asked, your voice carrying a hesitance that tugged at his heart.
He shifted beneath you, his hands settling on your hips as he met your gaze. âIâm more than okay,â he said, his tone quiet but firm. âAre you?â
Your lips parted slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes as though trying to read him. Slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. âYeah,â you said softly, nodding. âI think I am.â
The tension in his chest eased slightly, but his thumb continued its soothing motion against your hip. âGood,â he murmured. âBecause I donâtââ He paused, exhaling quietly. âI donât want this to be something you regret.â
âRegret?â you echoed, your smile widening faintly. âHotch, do I look like someone who regrets this?â
He let out a quiet huff of laughter, his fingers tightening slightly against your skin. âNo,â he admitted, his voice lighter now. âBut I had to make sure.â
You leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss so soft it made his chest tighten all over again. âYouâre impossible,â you whispered against his mouth, your tone teasing but filled with affection.
âAnd yet, here we are,â he replied, his lips curving into a smirk as he kissed you again.
You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his as your hands slid to his shoulders, your touch light and lingering. âHere we are,â you repeated, your voice quieter now, almost reflective.
Hotch let the silence stretch for a moment, his hands tracing gentle patterns along your sides as he memorized the feel of you against him. Whatever this wasâwhatever it had turned intoâhe wasnât going to let it slip away.
âYou should probably get some sleep,â he murmured, his voice tinged with humor as he glanced toward the faint glow of the bedside clock.
âSleep?â you teased, raising an eyebrow as you shifted slightly, your lips brushing against his jaw. âAfter all that? Iâm not sure thatâs possible.â
Hotch chuckled softly, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. âIâll take that as a compliment.â
You grinned, leaning into his touch as your eyes softened. âGood. You should.â
As the quiet settled over the room once more, Hotch let his eyes drift closed, your body still pressed against his, your warmth anchoring him in a way he hadnât felt in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was here and now, with you.
Hotch wasnât sure how much time had passed, the quiet rhythm of your breathing against his chest blurring the line between minutes and hours. His hand rested against your back, his fingers tracing slow, idle patterns along your skin, grounding himself in the reality of your presence.
âYouâre quiet,â you murmured after a while, your voice soft and drowsy, the words more of a thought spoken aloud than a question.
He glanced down at you, your head still resting on his chest, your hand lazily draped over his ribs. âIâm just... thinking,â he admitted, his voice low, the weight of the night settling over him in a way that felt both overwhelming and comforting.
You tilted your head up to look at him, your expression sleepy but curious. âAbout what?â
His fingers paused for a moment, resting lightly against your side. âAbout how different this feels,â he said honestly, his eyes meeting yours. âHow right it feels.â
Your lips parted slightly, your expression softening into something vulnerable, open. âIt does,â you agreed quietly, your hand sliding up to rest against his chest. âIt scares me a little.â
Hotchâs chest tightened at your words, but he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. âIt scares me too,â he admitted, his voice steady but filled with quiet emotion. âBut not enough to make me stop.â
You smiled faintly, your fingers tracing small circles against his skin. âWhat does this mean?â you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. âFor us?â
Hotch exhaled, his hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. âIt means I donât want to go back to what we had before,â he said softly. âNot after this.â
You blinked up at him, the weight of his words settling between you. âMe neither,â you said after a moment, your voice carrying a quiet strength.
The room fell into a comfortable silence, the unspoken understanding between you growing stronger with each passing second. Hotch shifted slightly, pulling you closer against him, his arm wrapping around your waist as if to keep you there, to keep this moment from slipping away.
Your fingers curled against his chest, and you tilted your head up, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was softer now, slower, as though sealing the unspoken promise youâd just made.
When you pulled back, your eyes searched his, a faint smile tugging at your lips. âI guess weâll figure it out,â you said softly, the words carrying a quiet certainty that made his chest tighten.
âWe will,â he replied, his voice low but firm.
Hotch lay awake long after youâd drifted off, your body warm and relaxed against his. The weight of what had happened between you lingered in the air, a heady mix of tenderness and an undeniable shift in the foundation of your relationship.
He let his fingers trace idle patterns along your back, his touch feather-light as he memorized the curve of your spine, the subtle rise and fall of your breathing. For years, heâd been disciplined in keeping the boundaries of your friendship intact, maintaining the line that separated what was and what could never be. But tonight, that line had dissolved completely, leaving in its wake something deeper, something that felt achingly right.
You stirred slightly, letting out a soft sigh as you nestled closer to him, your hand sliding across his chest as though instinctively seeking him even in sleep. His chest tightened, a quiet warmth spreading through him as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair.
Heâd spent so much of his life thinking he wasnât allowed to have thisânot after everything heâd been through, not after the sacrifices heâd made. But with you, it didnât feel like he was taking something he wasnât entitled to. It felt like finding something he hadnât realized heâd been searching for all along.
Tomorrow would bring its own questions, its own complications. The team would notice the shift between you, and the world wouldnât wait for you both to navigate whatever this had become. But for now, in the quiet sanctuary of the room, with you tucked safely against him, Hotch allowed himself to just be.
And as the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, he held you a little closer, silently vowing that whatever came next, he would be ready. Because for the first time in a long time, he felt whole. And he wasnât about to let that go
Hotchâs gaze lingered on your sleeping face, soft and unguarded in the early light. A quiet determination settled in his chest, stronger than anything heâd felt in years. You deserved to knowâwithout question or hesitationâthat you were worth everything. Worth the quiet moments and the stormy ones, the laughter and the tears, the time and the effort. Any man too blind or foolish to see that had only done him a favor, because now, you were here with him. And he would never take that for granted. He would make sure, every single day, that you never doubted your worth again. Because with you, Hotch finally understood what it meant to have somethingâand someoneâhe could never let go. And he wouldnât let you forget it.
Tag List:
@zaddyhotch
@estragos
@todorokishoe24
@looking1016
@khxna
@rousethemouse
@averyhotchner
@reidfile
@bernelflo
@lover-of-books-and-tea
@frickin-bats
@sleepysongbirdsings
@justyourusualash
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x reader insert#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#hotch x you#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner smut#smut#fluff#criminal minds smut#cm#hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#agent hotchner#ssa aaron hotchner#kiwriteswords
583 notes
·
View notes
Note
OMG I JUST NOTICED YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN THAT JUST MADE MY DAY!!!!
anyways can you do headcanons for bllk character introducing you to either their teams or the press iykwim
pretty please I loveeeee your posts so much <333333
Introducing their s/o to their team - isagi, kaiser, rin, hiori, chigiri
m.list | rules
Note : Hiii you're so cute lslsls thank you sm for your request <3 I chose this one cause somebody else asked about the press finding out so I'll do both !
Nobody is mentioned so I'll choose but feel free to ask for your fav !Â
IsagiÂ
He's so shy but happy omg
He's probably blushing if they keep saying how pretty you areÂ
Those who ask a bit more about you earlier to isagi will probably start a conversation more easilyÂ
But you love to talk with everyone!
If you're famous, they'll ask about it or how you two meet or even about your jobÂ
But if you're someone like you and me they're begging to know how you two meetÂ
They're probably expect something really cheesy based on isagi himselfÂ
He probably get teased a lot afterwards but he takes it easyÂ
heâs just so happy you can finally meet themÂ
RinÂ
heâs pretty but awful so everybody think heâs bitchless
no need to say that they GASPED when he introduced you
you seem so sweet, what are you doing here ?
âHe paid you ?â i definitely see some of them ask you that - like bachiraÂ
wait until you tell them that you asked him and he wasnât planning of doing without you mentioning itÂ
theyâre shocked, they feel betrayed and are ready to make a scene to him before you calm it downÂ
everybody want to know more about you, asking you lot of questions to the point that rin has to claim you backÂ
holding your waist or wrist to remind you that heâs there tooÂ
I think it goes more simply that he imagined at firstÂ
He's always happy when they ask about you even if he doesnât show it
ChigiriÂ
just like that time they react when they saw his sister, they will ask him who you are even if itâs obvious that youâre his s/oÂ
one or two would probably ask you out on a date to make him mad - tbh itâs really funny to see
heâll blush and become protective over you, adorableÂ
he would roll his eyes at their jokes but as long as youâre laughing at them, itâs fine with him
heâll get tease by the gaze he sent you all night, sweet and soft, speaking all the love he has for you before his tongue canÂ
heâs a bit cash if theyâre doing to much though, they have to be careful around his loverÂ
Hiori
he talks about you regularly so theyâre all happy when he mentions that youâll tag along for a team meal theyâre HYPE
theyâre so happy to see you itâs cute, you wish every partner is welcome that wayÂ
youâre so soft spoken it totally make sense that you ended up with himÂ
youâre probably a little reserved and overwhelmed at first but theyâre calmer than you thoughtÂ
itâs also a lot funnier than you thought so, even if you stay glued to hioriâs side, you can enjoy the night to the fullest !Â
he checks on you frequently, catching a lot of eyes and they make sure to let him knowÂ
you two are just so cute for sure damn couple goalÂ
KaiserÂ
ness is jealous lmaoÂ
heâs very cocky and proud to introduce you to themÂ
youâre so precious and most importantly : youâre his - he canât just keep it to himselfÂ
sharing the world about you start with his teammates
heâll tell them how you two meet and how you fall in love with him - as if he wasnât the one down bad - with his arm around your shoulders to keep you closeÂ
he trusted them but they canât touch <3 even in a friendly wayÂ
youâre really welcome though, theyâre all very interested in you and your life/jobÂ
it goes pretty smoothly, even if ness is a little saltyÂ
SaeÂ
heâs reluctant to say the least, he knows he wonât see the end of itÂ
youâre amazing, he loves you unconditionally
but youâre so good like that that he knows he will have to deal with them asking how youâre doing and he doesnât like itÂ
he says yes anyway, and one day he brings you with him at an unofficial meetingÂ
theyâre so shocked but happy to see you in real life (youâre on his lock screen) : they want to know everything
sae is a rather intimate person and doesnât talk much about his personal life so youâre the one who will tell them the cheesy stuff
yes you received death glares, you you still answer them with a big smileÂ
youâre funny, they already really love you and they canât wait to see you more around
I hope you liked it !
#blue lock x reader#blue lock headcanons#blue lock fluff#blue lock hc#bllk x reader#bllk headcanons#bllk hcs#bllk fluff#sae x reader#sae headcanons#sae hc#isagi x reader#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi headcanons#isagi fluff#kaiser x reader#kaiser fluff#kaiser hcs#michael kaiser#hiori x reader#hiori headcanons#hiori fluff#hiori yo x reader#chigiri x reader#chigiri headcanons#chigiri hcs#chigiri fluff#rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#rin hcs
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Scream men as a soft yandere (headcanon)



â warnings: jealousy, implied !murder!, posessiveness, female!reader. not proof read.
â summary: how (modern!au) Billy, Stu, Mickey, Charlie and Ethan would act if they were a yandere.
â author note: thank you guys for all the support ! i got one more headcanon and i'll move on from scream. i am writing a anon request right now ! :)

Billy Loomis

If you're out with friends, Billy will casually ''drop by'' to check in, telling you he just wanted to see you. He'll stay close to you, keeping you by his side at all times. If anyone starts to take up too much of your attention, he'll try to put your attention back to him, reminding you that he's there.
While you are out with your friends, you laugh at one of the jokes they made while Billy was sat next to you. A few moments later, he slips his arm around your waist. He flashes a fake smile to your friend before turning to you, ''I missed you.'' He stays close for the rest of the conversation, his hand lingering as a silent warning to anyone nearby.
When you're upset or going through a rough time, Billy will be right there, pulling you close and whispering that he's the only one who understands you, the only one you can be with. He'll listen to you and basically gaslight you into thinking he is the only one for you.
After you vent about your day, Billy gently takes your hand and looks into your eyes. ''I'm here. You don't need anyone else... right ?'' his voice is warm, and the way he looks at you makes you feel like he is indeed the only one who truly understood you. It's comforting. Exactly what he wanted.
He'd always make sure to give slight warnings to people he saw as a threat to your relationship. Perhaps a guy who was staring at you for too long or when somebody gets too close to you for his liking. He'd be very discreet with the warnings he'd give.
When your friend touched your shoulder in a friendly way, Billy catches up with them afterward, blocking their path with a casual smile. ''Iâd keep some distance from her if I were you.'' he says in a low voice, his eyes turning cold. The message is clear. No one gets close to you without his permission.

Stu Macher

Stu would always be around you, seeking your attention and approval. He'd act like your personal hype man, getting over excited about everything you do. If he feels like you're not paying attention to him, he'd playfully sulk or even resort to exaggerated antics to keep all eyes on him and you. Because in his mind, no one else deserves your attention except for him.
Stu shows up unexpectedly at your favorite hangout, waving and grinning as he calls out your name. He right next to you, wanting you catch him up on everything he missed. If anyone else tries to talk, he abruptly interrupts them, making sure he keeps your attention on him. ''C'mon, it's way more fun when it's just us.'' he says, giving you that familiar smile.
Stu would have very bad mood swings. He'd be his usual goofy self, but suddenly turn possessive if he someone is trying to come between you. His cheerful nature would return as soon as you give him reassurance, but anyone watching might feel uneasy at how quickly his mood changes when it comes to you.
You're chatting with someone when Stu suddenly pulls you aside, his expression a little darker than usual. ''What's so interesting about her ?'' he asks, trying to play it off with a laugh, but there's a hint of edge in his tone. Once you reassure him, he relaxes, grinning and wrapping an arm around you, back to his usual self as if nothing happened. But you catch the dirty look he gives the person you were talking to before you leave.
Stu would joke around about ''keeping you all to himself'' or make comments about others ''getting in the way'' but there would be a hint of seriousness in his tone. While he'd brush it off as a joke, his possessiveness would be clear, especially when he laughs just a little too long.
Stu drapes an arm over your shoulder, watching as someone tries to approach you. With a laugh that's just a bit too loud, he mutters, ''They better watch themselves, huh ? Wouldn't want anyone getting in our way.â He grins, leaving you wondering if that was really joke.

Mickey Altieri

Mickey would have a habit of watching every little detail about you. He'd know your class schedule, your favorite spots, and even memorize your favorite foods. If you happen to change your plans or mention something new, he'd be the first to know. He'd never directly admit it though.
You're surprised when you mention a new movie you wanted to see, and Mickey immediately pulls two tickets from his pocket with a casual grin. ''Already got us seats.'' he says smoothly, as if it's a total coincidence. But the way his smile tells you he's has been paying very close attention. Maybe closer than you realized.
Mickey would always be on edge when it comes to your safety. He'd insist on walking you home, sending texts about every 5 minutes, and questioning anyone who gets too close to you. If he senses someone is giving you unwanted attention, he'd intervene. And the person he said he'd ''talk to'', mysteriously disappears the next day.
Walking together after class, you notice Mickey glancing over his shoulder every few minutes, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. When he noticed someone was looking at you for too long, his grip tightens on your waist. ''Some people just don't know how to mind their business.'' he murmured to himself, already planning to take care of the person.
Mickey would be very intense in his affection, doing anything to prove how much he cares. He'd bring you gifts or show up unexpectedly just to remind you he's there. But beneath the charm, there'd be vulnerability in his gestures. Like he's afraid of losing you. His entire happiness relies on keeping you close.
One evening, Mickey shows up at your door with a small gift bag and that charming smile of his. Inside, it's filled with little things that only someone who really listens to you would know you love. He shrugs casually. ''Just thought you could use a pick up.'' His eyes are so fixed on your reaction that it feels like he's studying every expression, almost as if he needs the reassurance of seeing you happy.

Charlie Walker

Charlie would secretly collect stuff from things you had lying around or things you've touched. A pen you dropped on the grond, your hairtie, even a napkin you used. He'd tuck these away like small treasures, creating a hidden shrine that only he knows about.
You leave a study session at Charlie's place, and after you go, he carefully picks up the pencil you left behind. With a soft smile, he adds it to a small, hidden box in his room, where he keeps little things that remind him of you. He runs his fingers over the items, each one carrying a memory that makes him feel closer to you.
Charlie would stalk on you. Like following your social media or always knowing where you are. He wouldn't comment much, just liking posts But he is always aware of what you're up to, but never enough to be obvious about it.
One night, you post a picture at a new restaurant. Within moments, Charlie texts you, asking casually if you're enjoying the food. ''Didn't know you liked that place. Let me know if you want company next time !'' he writes, acting as though he just happened to see it. You don't know, but he already knew exactly where you were.
He'd frame his actions as concern, subtly making you rely on him by helping you with homework, offering to lend his favorite books or movies, or even inviting you over under the guise of study sessions. Over time, he'd make it seem like he's the one who understands you best, all while gently isolating you from others.
You mention struggling with an assignment, and Charlie offers his help, insisting he has all the right resources. As you work together, he subtly dismisses advice from other classmates, saying things like, ''They just don't get it like we do.'' His calm reassurance makes you start to rely on him more, and bit by bit, you feel like he's the only one who truly understands your needs.

Ethan Landry

He would always be by your side, no matter where you go. Whether you're at school, walking through a crowded hallway, or sitting in a library, his presence is constant, a shadow that never leaves.
You're sitting outside, trying to get some work done, when Ethan slides into the seat next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. He doesn't say anything at first, just sits there, his hand resting inches from yours. When you glance at him, he smiles softly, eyes fixed on you. ''You okay ?'' His voice is calm, but his gaze lingers, as if heâs waiting for you to give him your full attention. It's like he doesn''t want to leave your side, not for a second.
Ethan is the perfect boyfriend in public: soft, gentle, and attentive. He'll bring you your favorite coffee, ask about your day, and always make you feel cared for. But behind closed doors, his thoughts are far more twisted. If he sees anyone he doesn't like you to be around, he would go as far as killing them. Just for you.
Earlier, a guy from your class was annoying you on purpose, trying to get a reaction from you. Ethan glared at him, his fists tightening in anger. A dark thought crosses his mind. âDon't worry, he won't bother you again.'' The sweetness in his tone doesn't reach his eyes. They're colder now, calculating. You don't realize it, but he was planning something much more sinister than you would ever expect.
Behind closed doors, Ethan would have photos of you, recordings of conversations, even small things like your handwriting on scraps of paper, all kept in a hidden journal. It's his personal shrine, a way to relive every interaction with you in obsessive detail. If anyone ever found it, they'd realize just how deep his obsession is.
You enter Ethan's room for the first time, and something feels off. His walls are covered with posters, but there's one section with pictures of you, some taken from far away, others shots from class or during lunch. You freeze, your heart racing. Ethan notices your reaction and walks over, a soft smile on his face. ''I just thought they were pretty.'' he says casually, as if it's nothing. ''Donât worry. You're safe with me. I'm just making sure I never forget you.â
#billy loomis#fanfic#female reader#horror fanfiction#scream movie#stu macher#scream#scream 1996#scream fanfic#fanfiction#yandere#yandere boyfriend#yandere male#male yandere#soft yandere#yandere x darling#scream movies#scream 6#scream franchise#one shot#scream 2011#charlie walker#mickey altieri#billy loomis smut#billy loomis x reader#scream fanart#billy x reader#billy loomis x you#billy loomis x y/n#x reader
500 notes
·
View notes
Text
31. âBody Electricâ

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington
ê°Cucking + Breeding Kinkê± - 1.9k
âą unprotected sex, cuck!eddie, teasing, consent checking/color system, cream pie, somewhat feral Steve?
kinktober m.list
If someone had told Eddie a year ago that Steve Harrington was fucking his girlfriend in front of him with his consent, he would have laughed in their fucking face. Steve âthe hairâ Harrington with his girl? No way. And now, well they werenât exactly friends.
The two were never super close, but they trusted each other. There was no way around trusting each other after being forced together in a group to save the world, or whatever. A year later and they still had somewhat limited contact. Having so many mutual friends now left them seeing each other more and more.
Apparently the trust went deeper than Eddie was consciously aware, because when thinking of a guy to sleep with you for Eddie to watch, you both ultimately landed on Steve. The two of you were always up for trying new things, so when Eddie proposed him being cucked you didnât shoot down the idea.
You were intrigued to say the least and you were both aware of how Steve looked at you. He was no homewrecker, always keeping a safe distance, but when Eddie called him to ask if he wanted to sleep with you? At first he laughed awkwardly, thinking it was a cruel joke, but when that notion was cleared he had immediately said yes.
You were smart, hot, and he got to fuck you in front of Eddie, a perfect deal. Steve had no qualms with Eddie, but he did love the idea of cucking him. Of course Eddie set ground rules, the biggest one being not doing anything you wouldnât like. The second? That Eddie is in charge even when he wasnât the one fucking you.
Steve groaned at it, but agreed when Eddie threatened to find somebody else. Truthfully, there was no one else he could think of, but it didnât hurt to make Steve sweat a bit. Day of, you restlessly sat on the bed while Eddie welcomed Steve into his trailer. Your legs dangled off the side of the mattress, feet dragging over the worn carpet to settle your nerves.
A creak came from the ground and you perked up, head lifting to see Eddie with Steve standing behind him. Your eyes bounced between them, Eddie being the first to walk over to you. âYouâre sure you want this, right?â You murmured an âuh huhâ, chin in between Eddieâs ringed fingers when he leaned down to kiss your lips.Â
Instantly any doubt melted away, soothed by his chapped lips. âOkay. Anytime you want to back out,â he whispered against your lips. âI say red,â you finished, giggling against his lips as you repeated what he had said multiple times. Eddie pulled back, cupping your cheek to shake your head from side to side.
âDonât be a brat when Iâm about to let Stevie fuck you.â The reaction to the name was instantaneous, both you and Steve groaning at it. Eddie chuckled, pecking your lips quickly before backing up to sit on a chair he had set near the corner of his room. Steve took his cue, entering the small room. âEager?â He smirked at Eddie already being prepared, getting flipped off in response.
However, Steve was not easily deterred, making his way to stand between your legs. âThis okay?â He made sure on top of Eddie's earlier worries. You rolled your eyes at him, âKiss me already.â Steve chuckled. âBossy? Weâll fix that.â And god, you didnât know how true that statement would be. You always assumed Steve only had one mode which was gentle loverboy.Â
The first half was very tender. It was a clear change of pace from how you and Eddie usually ripped each other's clothes off of each other. Steve liked to build up suspense, treating you like you were made of glass. He had slipped each piece of clothing off until you were watching with rapt attention as he finally took his own clothes off.
You sighed, hands hovering before you touched his chest. âI didnât expect you to be so hairy,â you laughed, fingers brushing over the hair on his chest. Steve couldnât help but be proud, unable to see Eddieâs pouty expression but he could guess it was present. Steveâs hands found your arms, guiding you to lean back as he climbed between your legs.Â
He purposefully laid you upside down on the bed so he could give Eddie a closer view at your face when he fucked you. âAre you ready?â Steve asked. Your head naturally tilted back to look at Eddie, making Steve tut. âAh, ah, not him. I asked you.â Steveâs thumb and index finger pinched your chin and turned your head to look at him. âYes.â
He grinned, hands sliding down to grab your thighs, lifting them to press to your chest. Steve slid his arm to the backs of your knees, keeping them up. His other hand traced over your mound to slide down between your folds. âSo wet already,â he mused. âIs she always this wet, Eddie?â Eddie scoffed, listening to the slick sounds as Steve played with you.Â
âYeah, she is.â Eddie tongued at the inside of his bottom lip, blood flowing to his hardening dick. This wasnât about him though. While you were too preoccupied with Steve thrusting two fingers into your pretty pussy, he would know if he jerked off. This was about you. Eddie wouldnât receive any pleasure and yes thatâs what he wanted, but it didnât make his hands loosen from their fists. He must have been whisked away in his thoughts, interrupted by Steveâs voice.
âI think sheâs loose enough,â Steve commented, looking down at you. âYou think youâre ready to take me, honey?â You nodded, cunt drooling over Steveâs sticky fingers as he pulled them from you. âWords, sweetheart.â âYeah, yes, please, Steve.â He smirked, grabbing his painfully hard cock, letting your legs settle back to a more natural position. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand, swallowing when you saw the girth of his length. âHey, hey, itâs okay.â
You looked up at Steve, relaxing back at his words; Eddie relaxing the moment he saw you sink into his bed. His dark eyes were trained on the two of you, watching Steve press into you. Eddieâs heart thumped precariously as he waited to see your reaction. Your face was scrunched up, but you were still breathing steadily, taking it perfectly.
Steve pressed his hand to the side of your head, breathing in deeply. âKnew you could do it.â Your eyes fluttered open, staring up at his pleased expression. He was everywhere, at least you felt like he was. The burn of the stretch began to taper off, faster now that his thumb was playing with your clit. He felt your ridged walls contract and he chuckled. âGood?â
âYeah,â you confirmed in a breathy voice, eyes sliding shut again as you tilted your head back. Slow and soft is once again how it started off. Deep thrusts brushed against all the spots your fingers couldnât reach. You were so deep into the pleasure you could barely register when his thrusts began picking up.
It wasnât until you heard Eddieâs groan, opening your eyes to look at him, did you notice how your view was unsteady, shaken by each pound. Steve drove back into you repeatedly, unashamed moans spilling from his lips. You hiccuped, chest rising before falling when you cried out. âShit, Steve,â you groaned, head turning back to him.
His perfect hair was a mess, loose strands curling on his forehead and bouncing with his movements. Steve flicked his eyes up to watch your face, irises eclipsed by lustful pupils. âYeah?â He grunted. âSo beautiful. Youâre soâŠbeautiful.â He blew out the air from his lungs, leaning against your body now.
Ducking his head, he wrapped his lips around one of your soft nipples, sucking on it. It was enough for him to whine, tongue laving over it as he raised and lowered his head as if he was trying to manually make it harden. Steveâs teeth grazed the sensitive spot, eyes glancing up at you as you gave a strangled moan.
He smirked around your tit, popping off to bend over you. Steveâs chest pressed to yours, bodies tangled together while your guts tightened together, his spit on your chest smearing onto his chest hair. âSteve, Steve, ohâŠEddie!â Even without Eddie being the one to fuck you, you couldnât help but moan your boyfriends name. Steveâs eyes narrowed imperceptibly, glancing at Eddie who looked ready to leap out of his chair.Â
He shot Eddie a look as if to say âstay seated.â and some other unmentioned choice words. Steve bit the inside of his cheek, looking back down at you as he grew close to finishing. Eddie caught on to what he was planning, glaring immediately.Â
âSteve,â Eddie grumbled the warning, hand retightening into a fist on the top of his thigh. Steve grinned salaciously, âI know, I know.â he responded to your mewls, choosing to ignore Eddie. âHeâs being mean right?â Steve knew what he was doing, eyes glinting as he stared eddie down, mouth lowered by your ear. You didnât know why Eddie was being mean, or about what, but it sounded right in your blissed out state.
âYou want it, want my cumâŠbut what Eddie says goes, honey.â The seed was planted, making you realize what Eddie didnât want. âEddie please,â you begged him to let Steve cum inside you, needing it. Eddie clenched his jaw, teeth straining under the force. âBabe..â he started, but you were too far gone to realize that you were being bratty. âPlease, please, please,â you cried, tears collecting on your waterline. You were so close, unable to cum without confirmation.
âYou should give her what she wants.â Steve hummed, bouncing your ass off his hips as he continued thrusting within you, teetering on the edge. It was a dangerous game, though, it was one that paid off. âGo ahead,â Eddie conceded. Steveâs lips curled up into a more sinister smile when he received permission.
Steve pressed his sweaty cheek to yours, skin sticking together. âWant me to fill you up? Pump you full of my cum, of my babies? Fuck you so fullâŠlet you swell with âem.â Eddieâs eyes widened as you deliriously nodded, sob ripping through you as you clenched around Steveâs cock.
Even Steve seemed surprised by the outburst reaction. âOh, you want that? Want to be full of my babies, fucking nasty.â he laughed, hips stuttering as he tapered off into a groan. His balls tightened, slapping once more against you before he stilled for a second. âYes, yeah, take my cum, honey. Make it take.â Steveâs hot spurts of cum filled you up as you shook at the feeling.
Eddie licked his teeth with a laser focus on you as you seemed to fight to cum. Steveâs fingers found your clit, pinching it to send you spiraling. White hot stars bloomed beneath your eyelids as you came, back arching against Steve. Steve chuckled breathlessly, looking back at Eddie.
His hips resumed, grinding forward to push his cum deeper into your cunt. Eddieâs unamused expression came back as he spoke up, âThatâs enough.â Steve pants, nodding compliantly as he slowly came back down to earth. His palms rubbed at your hips, hissing as he pulled out, his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy.
You tensed at the feeling, his cum seeping out onto Eddie's comforter. You didnât want to let go of the feeling, cunt feeling so warm and gooey. âJesus Christ,â Eddie mused, looking at your spent body, getting up.
Steve was already checking on you, hand smoothing over your head. âAre you okay, honey?â In a daze, you give a dopey smile and laugh. âSo good.â
tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @adventures-of-impala, @dreamerjj
#eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson stranger things#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson oneshot#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington smut#eddie munson x reader x steve harrington#steve harrington x reader x eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steddie x reader#steddie x you#steddie x y/n#kinktober 2024#kinktober
597 notes
·
View notes
Text
Is there an age limit? Part 2
âFor me?â The annoying red-clad giant of a man who was all sunshine and diabetes-inducing puppies bounced around. He played with the communicator Batman handed to him as if it were a shiny new toy.
âI canât believe Iâm in the Justice League!â The Herculean man-child squealed, grinning like an imbecile. âSomebody, kick me. Show me Iâm not dreaming!âÂ
Guy Gardner was too happy to oblige.Â
âMy pleasure.â
His signature kick - a brutal, no-holds-barred move - would send a seasoned fighter flying across the floor. Guy delivered one of his specialties to Captain Whitebread.
Crack!
âMy leg!âÂ
Agony ripped from his foot, up his leg, as he felt his bones shatter upon impact with that brick wall of a man.
âI broke my leg!â He hopped to the nearest seat, clutching his foot, hoping to earn sympathy points with Ice.Â
The cold beauty looked away.
Instead, the Big Red Cheese hovered towards him.
âIâm so sorry.â The overgrown baby - who was made of concrete - had the audacity to offer him a hand.Â
âCan I help you?â
âNah, Guyâs just being Guy,â Hal pulled Justice Leagueâs newest recruit away. âYou must see our recreation rooms!â
Superman, one of the Big Three, intercepted them.Â
âWait, Cap,â he dangled a set of keys in front of Captain Whitebread.Â
âYou get the room beside mine,â Superman grinned as the big blue boy scout wrapped his arm around the cheesy red boy scout.Â
He behaved as if Cap was his twin brother. âIâll show you your private quarters!â
Guyâs jaw dropped as he turned as green as his ring.
While every member of the Justice League had a private room in the Watchtower, a cluster of four rooms were considered prime estate. Three of the four prestigious rooms were taken by the Big Three - Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman.Â
Captain Whitebread gets the fourth?Â
It is as good as telling the hero community that the dolt is one of the Big Four.
Guy knew he deserved that honour far more than that joke of a hero.
 *
âHoly Moley!â Captain Marvelâs gawked at his private quarters. âIs this for me?â
âAll yours,â Superman grinned, spreading out his arms.Â
His fellow Kryptonianâs childlike wonder was a welcome change from the jaded cynicism, or even worse, the self-important grandeur of some heroes.
âCan this room handle lightning strikes?â Captain Marvel ran his hand over a wall.
âWell,â Superman rock on the back of his heels.Â
âWe are in space, so there is no lightning out here. But it can withstand intense heat, radiation, corrosive environments and physical stress, so Iâd imagine it can handle a regular thunderstorm.â
Marvel frowned, in thought. âCan it handle over a billion volts at more than 30,000 degrees Celsius?â
âIâm not sure if anything can handle that,â Superman replied.
âMay not be an issue ifâŠ.â Captain Marvelâs face lit up with a dazzling grin.Â
âNever mind. I know what to do.â He chuckled.Â
âWisdom of Solomon,â he tapped his head.
Capâs eyes bugged out at the fully stocked mini-fridge and pantry. He picked up a can of beer. âIâm sure you must be a certain age to drink these,â he frowned.
Superman wasnât a fan of alcohol either. It had no effect on his Kryptonian physiology. He didnât fancy the taste.Â
âI donât like beer or alcohol either. It might be a Kryptonian thing,â he beamed, more certain than ever that he was no longer the last of his kind. âI had mine swapped for milk,â he grinned. âI can arrange that for you too.â
âThat would be cool!â Cap looked delighted. âCan I have chocolate milk?â
Cap behaved like a kid let loose in a toy shop as Superman showed him the roomâs features.
âThe bed and walls are reinforced, but cannot withstand our strength, if you toss and turn in your sleep,â Superman warned. âDo you sleepwalk?â
âNo,â Cap pursed his lips. âIâll power down before bed so it shouldnât be an issue.â
Power down? Does Marvel have portable red sun lamps?Â
Thatâs a brilliant idea he could adopt.â
For the rest of the morning, Superman had the pleasure of showing his new brother the rest of the Watchtower.
âSuperman, this place is awesome!â Cap remarked
âCall me Kal,â Superman replied.Â
âOkay Kal. You were saying you have Polar Bears in your Fortress of Solitude. Can I play with them?â Marvel pleaded with large, puppy eyes.
âSure, Will-em,â Kal replied.Â
Cap cringed. âI rather you call me Billy. William sounds so⊠old.â
âBill, then?â Kal asked.
âBill is good,â Billy replied.
Marvel prefers his civilian Earth name.Â
He probably was raised on Earth too.
So civilian Earth name it is.
âThen call me Clark.â
Bill preferred flying to using the zeta tubes. He had a point. One can never tire of the magnificent view, flying on your power from the space station to earth.
âYou keep your key where everyone can see?â Billâs eyes widened at the large golden key outside Supermanâs ice fortress.
âItâs made of dwarf star material and weighs millions of tons,â Clark smirked. âItâs not like anyone can pick it up and let themselves in.â He fitted the massive key into the keyhole.
âI bet I can,â Bill smirked.Â
âKryptonians can,â Clark replied. âBut weâre almost extinct.â He handed the key to Marvel, who returned it to its place where it doubled up as an aircraft navigation marker.
âHoly Moley!â Billâs jaw dropped lower as they walked into the fortress. âAre those your parents?â He pointed up at the statues Kal had created in memory of his birth parents.
âYes. Jor-el and Lara Lor-Van,â Clark replied. âI was a baby when they sent me away. I donât remember anything about them.â
âOh,â Bill squeezed Clarkâs shoulder. âIâm sorry to hear that.â
âItâs okay.â Clark assured him. âMa and Pa Kent took me in when I landed on earth as a baby. They raised me as their own son.â
âThatâs cool. I donât have parents. I lost mine when I was five,â Billâs eyes glistened with tears.Â
âI can still remember them, though the memories are getting fuzzy.âHe dropped his smile.
âYou can always visit me and my family at the farm,â Superman patted his back.
âFarm?â Capâs eyes widened. âYou grew up in a farm?â
âRaised there. My folks live there,â he chuckled as he led Bill through the fortress' many chambers. âTalking about families, thereâs a polar bear family I want you to meet.â
He opened a door that led into a natural cave just outside the Fortress of Solitude.
âMy neighbours,â Clark gestured at a family of polar bears.Â
The father and mother bears nodded at the men and chuffed their greeting.
Bill chuffed back.Â
Then he whimpered like a playful bear cub.
Curious cubs approached Cap with their heads up and ears forward.
The biggest baby bear swatted the air in a playful mock attack.Â
Captain Marvel pawed back as younger cubs rolled around.Â
Their mother walked slowly towards Cap, and sniffed at him.Â
The babies followed suit.Â
Between the cuffs, whines and whimpers, the bears seemed to be having some sort of conversation with the man.
âDo you understand what they are saying?â Clark walked up to them, getting a growl in response.
âOh sorry,â Bill replied. âI keep forgetting we arenât speaking English.â
âHuh?â Clark frowned. Confused.
âSasha here was telling me about your noisy machines driving their fish away,â Bill added. âShe asks you to be a good neighbour and keep the noise down.â
Apparently, the mother bear was Sasha, the father bear was Phil.
âIâm hardly here,â Clark replied.
Bill chuffed at the mother bear, getting a series of growls in return.
âShe says, you may not be here, but your machines still make too much noise. These two days, the sounds are more frequent and worse,â Bill explained.
Sasha chuffed some more.
âThen there are the newcomers in shiny suits that came through this week,â translated Bill.
âThatâs not possible,â Clark had a nagging feeling something was wrong.
Phil roared.Â
Sasha herded the cubs away.
âThey are coming again. The bears smell them,â Clark translated for Bill.Â
âSasha is asking you to tell your guests to be more considerate.â
âWhat guests?âÂ
A sudden pain stabbed through Clarkâs entire body.Â
Kryptonite.
He searched for the source, but his super-vision failed him. A wave of dizziness hit him. Hard.
âAre you okay, Clark,â Bill caught him before he hit the ground.
âKryptonite,â his vision turned blurry as an armoured figure bearing a large chunk of Kryptonite stalked past the bears, towards him.
âI got this.âÂ
Billâs voice was the last thing Clark heard before he blacked out.
*
âBatman! Supermanâs poisoned!â Captain Marvel strode into the Watchtower carrying a limp, green-faced Superman.
âWhat happened?â Batman led Marvel to The Infirmary.
âKryptonite bomb exploded in our faces,â Marvel grimaced. âShards of Green K pierced his skin. I removed as much as I could but I donât have X-ray vision, but I think he breathed particles of Kryptonite, so can you check his lungs?â
âHmmph,â Batman scrutinised Marvel. âWhy arenât you affected?â
âKryptonite doesnât bother me,â Marvel replied. âWe were attacked in the Arctic. Who do I hand the culprits over to?â
âBring them here for interrogation,â Batman replied. If these guys infiltrated Supermanâs fortress, he wanted to find out more. âLocal authorities donât have the facilities or security to store technology that is advanced enough to take down Superman. Bring everything here for safekeeping.â
âYes, sir!â Marvel did a chipper salute and disappeared in a red blur.
So, Captain Marvel is immune to Kryptonite. He doesnât have X-ray vision either. The man is clearly not a Kryptonian.
As he applied the ultrasonic vibratory device to Supermanâs chest to loosen the kryptonite particles in his lungs, Batman pondered on the new information that Marvel had revealed about himself. Â
Marvel may not be a Kryptonian, but he could be a Daxamite.Â
These are descendants of Kryptonians who left Krypton to explore space. They have the same powers as Kryptonians but do not have x-ray vision.Â
Although they are not affected by Kryptonite, Daxamites have a fatal sensitivity to lead.
Batman set up the portable lung lavage system to wash out Supermanâs lungs.Â
Then he headed to his private quarters where he kept his contingencies against every member of the Justice League.
He removed the Kryptonite from Marvelâs box and replaced it with lead bullets.Â
#billy batson#dc captain marvel#billy batson is captain marvel#shazam#captain marvel#captain marvel dc#superman#clark kent#kal el#batman#green lantern#guy gardner
434 notes
·
View notes
Text
Practice
About this: certified drabble gone out of hand. best friend!Kyle Gaz Garrick/fem!reader. PIV, fingering, oral (fem receiving). King of your firsts, you ask your best friend Kyle to take your virginity.
Part 1 here.
-
âKyle?â
âHm?âÂ
âCan I talk to you about something?âÂ
He sucks in a breath, like youâve asked for something painful. âNo can do, honey pie. Iâm just here to sit in silence.â
You roll your eyes, though his joke breaks through the ice of your nerves and melts that anxious, frozen part inside you. Kyleâs good at thatâputting you at ease. He does it in such easy, flippant ways that you arenât even sure if itâs being done intentionally. Just another excuse added to the grocery-list-length of reasons why youâre here now, asking him for this.Â
âIf I had a favorâŠa big one. Would you do it?âÂ
He grins, a flash of pale, straight teeth. âThatâs totally dependent on the favor. Does it involve burying a body?âÂ
âNo.â
ââbecause my answer is yesââ
âWould you have sex with me? For my first time.â The mirthful expression drops from his face, all teasing fading away. He turns to youâliterally angles his body toward youâto give you his full attention. You do your best to meet his eyes. See, you can make eye contact too. Youâre to be taken seriously. Â
He blinks placidly and asks: âWhy me?âÂ
âWeâve practiced stuff before,â you begin to recite, though that grocery list of reasons why Kyle would make the perfect party in your brain has suddenly gone frustratingly fuzzy. âYou make me feel safe, and Iâmâlike, really attracted to you.â
His mouth wobbles, threatening to grin. âYeah?â he asks, playing at unaffected. He runs a hand over his shorn hair and answers for himself: âYeah.âÂ
âKyle. Focus.â
âOkay, okay, howâs this for focus: all those things you just said? Those are things youâll probably feel for someone in the future. A partner. Somebody you really want to give yourself to. So why do it now with me? Why not wait for it to be real?â he asks.Â
ItâsâŠitâs a good question. With a really good answer. But telling Kyle that this is real for you? Thatâs not an option. So ignoring the obvious, whatâs another good reason you could possibly have for not wanting to wait for Mx. Right? Â
Kyleâs waiting, watching, brows raised in an smug expression that says, See. Iâve just talked you down from a dangerous ledge. Youâre welcome, when you finally settle on the only excuse you can think of.
âBecause,â you say, âI wanna feel good now.âÂ
-
He can get behind that. He can get underneath it, on top of it. Anywhere it wants himâKyle can get there. Because you deserve to feel good, and thereâs nobody in this godforsaken world who deserves to be making you feel good, but Kyle comes close. You chose him, after all, and he thinks that must stand for something.Â
He sinks into the mindset the way other men must slip into well-fitting suits; this is tailor-made for him. Heâll give you the princess treatment: dinner, back to his place for wine, then heâll sip the taste of it off of your tongue andâ
At the first sign of his acquiescence, you whip your shirt off over your head and his brain blue screens.Â
âWhoa,â he says. He gives himself a solid moment to eat you up with his eyes: your soft curves, your dimples, the bra youâve chosen with the lacy edgesâgod, did you somehow know that heâs a sucker for lace? After the moment ends he contents himself to going hungry, scoops up your shirt and hands it back to you. âI didnât mean now.âÂ
You frown, pressing your shirt to your chest to protect your modesty. âWhen, then?âÂ
âWhen I have the chance to treat you right,â says Kyle, laying a hand on your thigh, smoothing his thumb along the curve of your knee. âTo take you out first. Dress up. Light some scented candles, I donât knowââ
âThat sounds like it will take forever,â you grumble. âCanât we fast forward? Give me a sec.â
Brushing his hand away, you disappear into your bedroom and then the light to the en suite bathroom clicks on. You leave your shirt behind. Kyleâs fingers are drawn to it, feeling the warmth from where it pressed against your skin. He wonders if it smells like you, but Jesus heâs not going to sniff your fucking shirt. Heâs not that desperateâ
God, it smells good.Â
You reappear just a split second after he tosses your shirt back into its place on the sofa, and you set your boon down on the coffee table. Itâs a scented candle, blueberry, half burned off. You flick the sparkwheel of the lighter in your hand and tip the candle dangerously sideways to light it.Â
âThere!â you say cheerfully. âCandles. All my dreams are suddenly coming true.â
âYou are a cheeky little brat. You want in my pants that bad?â he asks, just to watch the way your mouth drops, words turning into stuttered syllables. He laughs and pats his lap. âCâmere.âÂ
You go, kneeling over him. His hips are slim, but itâs still a stretch for you, his hands finding your waist and helping to keep you steady, thumbs smoothing against the bare skin of your belly. He draws you against him in a hug, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. His hands run up and down the length of your back, soft and slow, drawing shivers from you.Â
âWhatâre you so eager for, hm?â Kyle wonders. On his lap like this, arms looped around his neck, you have a small height advantage. He pulls back to look up at you, eyes tracing over your nose down to your mouth and back up again, memorizing your features in the dim lamplight. âDonât even know what youâre missing, do you?âÂ
âIt doesnât have to be a big deal,â you murmur, playing with the collar of his shirt. It tickles, but he doesnât laugh. âVirginity is an outdated concept anyway.âÂ
âYou want it?âÂ
Your brows raise. âYes?âÂ
Heâs a bastard for saying: âDonât sound too sure to me.âÂ
âI want it, Kyle. Come on, donât tease me.âÂ
âHeyâif we do this, youâre in charge,â he tells you, finally relenting against his bodyâs fervent desire to see his cock harden. You shift on his lap and he has to pause speaking, hands flexing against you. âWhatever you say goes. Whenever you want to stop, we stop. Alright?âÂ
âSounds like a lot of responsibility.â.Â
âTough,â he says. âThose are the rules, honey pie. Take it or leave it.âÂ
âCan I make my first rule?âÂ
âIâm all ears.âÂ
You clear your throat and mutter into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, âKyle, I want you to be in charge.âÂ
Kyleâs breath leaves him in a rush. Heâs a bad man. He must be, for getting so drunk off of those words. For wanting so badly to be in charge of you and your pretty body, for finding your overwhelming trust in him absolutely heady.
He leans up and kisses you. Itâs not the first time youâve ever kissed, but itâs easily the best. You take it to a hungry place and he doesnât even attempt to rein you in, just sighs into your mouth and sucks on your tongue, your kisses turning into a heated give-and-take that reminds him of ocean waves he wants to be swept away in.Â
You settle more firmly in his lap, fingers stroking up through his shaved hair. Your nails against his scalp makes him groan. The two of you kiss until your mouths are numb, until you have devolved into little thrusts against him, seeking friction.Â
When you seem well and truly desperate, Kyle slips his hands up from your hips to cup your breasts, thumbs tracing your skin above the cups of your bra.Â
âTake it off,â you gasp against his mouth. âPlease Kyle, take it offââÂ
âPretty pushy for the girl who isnât in charge anymore.âÂ
âKyle!âÂ
âAlright, alright,â he says, hands tracing around your ribs to the clasp at the back. He undoes it on the first try and mutters under his breath: âScore.âÂ
âWhat?â you pant, slipping your arms from the straps. The bra comes off, and tumbles from the couch to the floor, but neither of you pay it any mind.Â
Kyle canât speak. Heâs never seen you here before, miles of new flesh on display. Your nipples pucker in the cool air under his stare, and he reaches out to rub the pad of his thumb over one, watching you shudder. When he cups your breasts in his palms he canât help but think how well they fit in his hands, how every part of you seems molded for him. Heâs not going to be able to let you go after this. Itâs like being behind the wheel skidding on black ice. He sees the collision course he is on, but thereâs nothing he can do to stop it.Â
âAre you sensitive here?â he asks, thumbing at the hard peak of one breast.Â
âIsnât everyone?â you breathe. Â
âNo,â says Kyle with a warm laugh. He pinches you softly, attuned to the breath you suck in and the way your body trembles. You are a sensitive little thing, untouched by other hands, and fuck, Kyleâs never had a thing for virgins but heâs got a thing for you, and it threatens to destroy him.Â
âGonna ruin you,â he says, leaning in to nuzzle at the hammering pulse in your throat. He opens his mouth and scrapes his teeth over your collarbone just to hear the way you squeak. Â
âDo it,â you whisper, hips grinding down against the hard line of his clothed erection. âCome on, Kyle, youâre all talkââÂ
âMeâ?â
ââsaid I wanted to feel good,â you say. âWhy am I still waiting?âÂ
Well. Itâs logic he canât argue with.Â
He urges you off of his lap. âBedroom.âÂ
âAlright,â you laugh.Â
Just after you stand on shaking legs, Kyle adds: âRace ya.âÂ
-
Kyle launches himself over the back of the couch in a move that would not look nearly so smooth if you tried, socked-feet slipping on the hardwood as he races toward the bedroom.Â
âKyle, you cheater!â you howl, rushing after him.
âBlow out that candle, itâs a fire hazard!â he shouts behind him, sending you whirling back to the coffee table to huff a breath against the flame.Â
By the time you make it into the bedroom, heâs reclined on your bed, ankles crossed, hat resting over his face like he is taking a restful nap. Youâd believe it if it werenât for the erection tenting his jeans.Â
âIf youâre tired, I can leave you to nap,â you snark, feigning for the door.Â
Kyle whips his hat off of his head and tosses it like a frisbee with frightening dexterity. The hard brim clatters against your knuckles and makes you gasp, clutching them against your chest as you stare at him in shock.Â
âYouâre not going anywhere,â Kyle says. He sheds his shirt in that slick little maneuver men have mastered, gripping the back collar and tugging it up and over his head. It reveals a length of dark, soft skin stretched taut over muscle that has your mouth watering. Youâve seen him shirtless plenty of timesâGod, youâve seen him naked, really, though not all at onceâbut it never stops having such a heated effect on you. He kneels up and comes to the edge of the bed, sitting on the side, reaching out one hand for you, palm soft and facing up. âCâmere.â
You go to him, taking his hands and lacing your fingers together. He strokes his thumb against yours.Â
âYou wanna finish undressing me?â he asks.Â
âDo you want me to finish undressing you?âÂ
Kyle stares. Then a slow smile spreads across his face. He gets it; he always does. Standing up, he guides your hand to rest flat against his abs, drawing it downward toward his belt buckle. He says: âUndress me, then.â
Your hands shake as you unfasten his belt. You donât bother slipping it free of the loops, just let it dangle open while unfastening his jeans. His erection makes that a little more difficult than it might have been otherwise, and every time your knuckles brush against him, he gives little sighs that go straight to your head.Â
Heâs not wearing any underwear.Â
âGaz you devil.âÂ
âThatâs me,â he says with a warm smile. His fingers find the waistband of your leggings, and itâs his turn to draw them down your legs and let you brace yourself on his broad shoulders while he helps you out of them. With any other man you might have been shy, but thereâs no room for it with Gaz. The way he looks at you takes up all that space in your brain for anxiety. He looks at you like heâs seeing artwork, like he wants to pin you to the wall and stare at you for the rest of his life.Â
âBed time,â he says, coaxing you down onto the soft duvet. You shift to scoot back but his hands grip your thighs, fingers denting the soft flesh as he tugs you back toward the edge of the bed in a show of strength that has your heart hammering. He kneels and spreads your thighs. Then he shuts his eyes, muttering under his breath.Â
You lean up onto your elbows. âWhat is it?âÂ
His eyes flicker open. âIn my house we pray before we eat, thank you.âÂ
âKyle!â
Heâs still laughing when his mouth presses against you. You slip off of your elbows and onto your back, both hands clasped over your eyes as he licks a broad stripe over your folds. Gaz eats pussy with remarkable tenderness, no hint of teeth, all tongue and soft kisses. He lets you hide your face and muffle your noises but draws the line when you try to close your legs with his head still between them. Winding his arms up over your thighs, he pins them open to the bed with his forearms, hands framing your cunt nicely. His thumbs slip in your own arousal when he tries to spread your folds too, and in the end he gives up, burying his face deeper into you to tongue at your entrance.Â
He draws back for breath at one point, his pretty jaw smeared with your slick. He sounds winded when he asks: âWhat do you think, honey? Can you cum like this?âÂ
You continue covering your eyes with one hand, but the other reaches down to grip at his short hair and guide his mouth back to your clit. He chuckles against you but takes the hint, lapping the flat of his tongue at that aching epicenter of nerves, taking it into his mouth and suckling with sweetness.Â
Youâre climbing that first peak when he carefully slips his first finger inside you, giving you just enough to whet your appetite. You hadnât realized how badly you craved something inside you until you had that slender finger to grip, but now you want more.Â
âAnother, Kyle, please,â you ask.Â
He groans, mouth full of you, and shifts on his knees. Pulling back, he guides two fingers into you, easy as anything. âI love your manners. Youâre so fucking good, you know that? So good.âÂ
He stops talking before he can make you uncomfortableâknows the way your chest feels fileted open with any kind of praise or complimentâand gets back to his important work. With his fingers gently working you open and his mouth on your clit, it takes hardly any time for the pleasure to crest, the muscles in your belly tensing as your pleasure draws tight and then snaps clean in two. Your toes curl, groan bitten off as you clamp your mouth shut, pussy spasming around his fingers. He works you through it, dark eyes shut like heâs savoring the taste of you.Â
âCan you take more?â he asks, mouth wet, lips swollen.Â
Your head bobs in a nod, throat dry from all the sounds youâve been making. Kyleâs grin is beatific, and he leans down to kiss your closest thigh while he works a third finger into you. This one gives you a pleasant stretch, but there is no pain; you are plenty wet and relaxed.Â
âYou want me to use a condom?â he asks, smoothing his free hand over your belly to watch the muscles jump and twitch at his soft touch. âYou been taking your pill everyday?âÂ
You roll your eyes. âJesus, yes, Kyle Iâve been taking my birth control. Do youâ?â
âNope,â he says, shaking his head. âThis oneâs on you. Condom or no condom.âÂ
âCould weâwithout?âÂ
âWe could,â he teases with a smile. He stands, fingers slipping free from inside you. It leaves you feeling empty, aching.Â
You hope that heâll make you cum again.Â
Leaning over you, he plants a hand on either side of you and kisses you, still tasting faintly of where his mouth has been. You loop you arms around his neck, pulling him down until he rests his weight against you, chest-to-chest, your legs hooked around his waist. When he pulls back, itâs just to encourage you higher up onto the mattress so he can follow, finding his home once again in the hollow of your thighs. He says: âLet me know if anything hurts, yeah?âÂ
âYeah,â you breathe, looking up at him. Suddenly it doesnât feel like thereâs enough breath in your lungs. You feel starstruck by him, by the look of concentration on his face as he angles his hips until his tip brushes against your folds. Slowly, he slips inside you, and itâs a fullness youâve never known from your own fingers or even his. Your eyes fall shut, but your mouth canât help smiling, beaming practically.Â
âYeah?â Kyle laughs breathlessly. âThat good already?âÂ
You get the giggles.Â
âNot the best time to laugh at a man, you might give him a complex,â Kyle says, grinning.Â
âAll men deserve complexes.âÂ
âExcept for me.âÂ
âSure.âÂ
He sinks in, deeper, deeper until thereâs nowhere left for him to go. His forehead brushes against your own, and your eyes open to find his own closed, mouth parted as he pants softly, looking almost as wrecked as you feel. He opens his eyes and catches you looking, but instead of calling you out, he just cocks his head, giving one of his pretty, closed-lip smiles.Â
He sets a slow rhythm to start with, and itâs not enough. Your ankles lock around his back, urging him on, fingers scrambling for purchase against the smooth skin of his shoulders. Every thrust drags against the wet, swollen walls of your cunt, and at the apex his pubic bone meets your clit in a touch thatâs nearly soft as a kiss.Â
âIs it good for you?â you wonder, taking note of his uncharacteristic silence.Â
He drops his head to rest in the dark juncture between your neck and shoulder, kissing you there. âBest itâs ever been,â he admits with a little laugh. âYour pussy is perfect. Iâm trying not to cum and end things early.âÂ
You groan. Something about that knowledge makes the heat in your belly rise up to a boil. You clench around him on instinct, and he hisses a breath against your neck, then teases the spot with his teeth. When heâs drawn blood to the surface of your skin, he leans up onto his elbows to admire his work. His mouth is swollen, but he looks unquestionably pleased with himself. Â
For a while the two of you continue on like that: his lazy thrusts and mouth leaving bruises on your neck. Bracing himself on one elbow, he takes your hand and kisses your fingertips before guiding it down between you both toward your pussy.Â
âMake yourself feel good,â he says. âYou probably canât cum just from this.âÂ
Your body agrees. He felt good inside you, but it isnât until you touch your clit that you feel the first tendrils of that addictive heat in your belly. You chase it immediately, eyes falling shut as your fingers work faster. Itâs different with him inside youâlike thereâs no room for the pleasure to fizzle out and die the way it sometimes does at your own touch. Instead he drives you higher, especially as his tight-knit control wavers and his hips drive into you with more force.Â
You forget to tell him when youâre close. It creeps up on you, really. All at once your muscles seize, everything focused on that narrow place between your legs and the epicenter of an orgasm that has your back arching until your breasts press flush against his chest. (You hear him suck in a breath like youâve stabbed him, his voice shaky when he asks: âAre you cumming?â but thereâs no breath to answer him with.) Thereâs no more room for your hand to work but Kyleâs thrusts drag you through the aftershocks. It seems to go on forever, your sounds embarrassing but your brain wiped clean of embarrassment.Â
âIâm not pulling out unless you tell me to,â he says once your ears have stopped ringing. He sounds strained, his chest brushing against your nipples with every shallow pant. âSo jot that down.âÂ
âDonât want you to,â you admit, boneless. âI want to know what it feels like when you cum inside me.âÂ
Kyle moans quietly. His head drops, forehead resting against your own as his thrusts grow hectic. He mutters the quietest fuck in your ear when he cums, filling you with a rush of wet warmth that turns the sounds of his cock slick and lewd as he works himself through it with your pussy.Â
When he pulls out, itâs jarring. You feel so empty. He kneels back on his heels and spreads your thighs to watch his own spend leak from your entrance and says it again, that quiet little fuck that makes you feel invincible.Â
Collapsing on the bed beside you, he finds your mouth, cradling your head in one of his hands, turning you to angle your mouth just right for his tongue.Â
âYou were perfect,â he says when he breaks the kiss. His knuckles skim your cheekbone. âThank you. For choosing me.âÂ
You nod, throat suddenly tight. Itâs over now, time to return to reality. Except you donât want it to be over. You donât want a reality without Kyle by your side or in your bed. How did you think that this would be a good idea? How did you think you could be so intimate with him and just let him go? Stupidly your eyes burn, and he must see something on your face because he rushes to assure you: âHey, weâre okay. Nothingâs different now, yeah?âÂ
Yeah, you think dully. Thatâs the problem.Â
834 notes
·
View notes
Text
I enjoy the "sending my gay son to homophobia kingdom" jokes as much as the next person but, to be fair to hunith, I think people forget how unsafe ealdor was implied to be for merlin.
right in the first episode, in her letter, hunith tells gaius that she's afraid of what people in ealdor might do to merlin if he was found out (he is so clearly at odds with people here that, if he were to remain, I fear what would become of him). so afraid, in fact, that she packed merlin off to gaius as soon as she found out that will knew about his magic. it sounds like the two of them didn't even get the chance to say goodbye, so it must've happened very quickly:

[transcript from episode 1x10]
given hunith's fear, there's no reason to believe that people in ealdor were much more tolerant towards magic than people in camelot.
then, in episode 5x03, we see an instance of villagers taking matters into their own hands and attempting to burn an old woman on the pyre for being a witch. while this happened in camelot, it didn't have much to do with the king's laws â on the contrary, the villagers even tried to do it in defiance of arthur's direct orders.

I can imagine this happening in other villages â and ealdor is, as hunith wrote in her letter, a small one. Would it be easier to hide there, or in a city where hundreds live and nobody knows you? better yet, under the protection and tutelage of somebody who could teach you how to control your random outbursts of magic? she had no way of knowing merlin would end up spending most of his time under the prince's nose.
then, of course, there's the fact that merlin was not happy in ealdor. although in episode 1x10 he tells will that he didn't want to leave and that his mother made him, he also tells arthur in an earlier scene that he left because he did not fit in anymore and "wanted to find somewhere that [he] did". (was he lying to will when he said he wanted to stay, to soften the blow of him leaving? perhaps; though it's likely that he actually felt torn about it).
as merlin painfully admits to gaius later, the years before he moved to camelot were the loneliest of his life. and hunith would certainly have noticed her son's deep unhappiness.
so, to get to my point â hunith's choice wasn't as crazy as it sounds. sometimes the only option you're left with is sending your gay son to homophobia kingdom and hope that things turn out all right for him.
#(the gay is a metaphor for magic)#merlin meta#??? not really I was just thinking about this yesterday#âthe years before I came here were the loneliest of my lifeâ is such a heartbreaking sentence#little merlin feeling so lonely and out of place :((((#hunith#merlin
480 notes
·
View notes
Text
i want you to see (how you look to me) | b.e.



pairing: billie eilish x reader
synopsis: you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, billie, and you're unsure if she feels the same, choosing to keep your distance -- until one fateful night in the studio where your feelings finally boil over.
word count: 3,506
tags/warnings: angst if you squint, mostly fluffy, love confessions, mutual pining, best friends to lovers
author's note: GIFT FOR YOUUUU. sorry i took so long to write something LMAO. this was very quickly proofread at 3am. any mistakes are mine! hope you enjoy :) comments/tags/reblogs are always appreciated! (credit for the divider goes to @/cafekitsune)
In the dim light of your bedroom, you scrolled through your phone's photo gallery, feeling your heart constrict at all of the pictures you had with Billie. Some were taken directly after shows, some after particular interviews, and some during a random outing the two of you decided to go on. In many of the pictures, Billie left little to no personal space, her face squished against yours and her arms completely wrapped around you. You missed the times when Billie could touch you like that and it didn't set you aflame â when it didn't make your head spin as you took in her perfume and felt her soft body underneath your hands, her ocean eyes bright and full of mirth as she looked at you.
There was no denying that there was some distance between you and Billie now. And you hated it.
You weren't sure when it happened; when you first started feeling those stupid butterflies around her. When even just the sound of her laugh made your heart soar. If somebody asked you to pinpoint the exact moment you started falling in love with your best friend, you wouldn't be able to â it was all so fuzzy and frankly you didn't think it could be attributed to a single moment anyway. It might have been that one night she slept over and you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder as she sung you to sleep. Or the time the two of you were at her place, making some vegan recipe together, playing loud music and using spoons and forks as microphones, performing for no one but yourselves and giggling profusely at Billie giving you the performance of a lifetime in the comfort of her own kitchen. Or perhaps it was the time she comforted you all night after a breakup, holding you closely and never letting go, her ring-clad hands petting you gently, as if you were made of glass.
Your heart had always belonged to Billie, long before you truly understood your feelings. And now that they were more apparent to you than ever, you simply didn't know what to do.
You knew Bille loved you just as much as you loved her. But did she feel the same fire within her whenever your hands brushed together? Did she feel those same butterflies whenever you laughed at a dumb joke or gave her a bright smile? You couldn't bear even just the thought of pouring your heart out to this woman only for the feeling to not be mutual.
You glanced at the time on your phone screen. It was late. You should've been sleeping but you were just riddled with anxiety instead, too busy imagining up a million hypothetical situations in which you would dramatically confess your feelings. You wish you had the same confidence you had in your daydreams in your real life.
You sighed, scrolling to the very last thing you had in your gallery. It was the most recent video of you and Billie, taken only a few weeks ago. The both of you were in Billie's living room. You couldn't stop the smile that tugged the corners of your lips when Billie came into view as you secretly recorded her in all of her casual glory. Her long hair was down, falling in front of her face in a way that made the breath leave your lungs. She was in an oversized t-shirt, wearing a pair of simple black shorts. She was very focused; her lips forming a pout as she stared down at the notebook in her lap, a pencil in hand.
What started as a small grin evolved into a wide, lovesick smile as you watched Billie look at the camera in the video, finally having caught on to you filming her.
âWhat the hell are you doing?â Past Billie had asked, a smirk slowly appearing on her face as she eyed you suspiciously. You heard yourself giggle, suddenly aiming your phone camera away from her and poorly trying to appear innocent.
âNothing.â
âYou are a fucking liar,â Billie said playfully, barely able to get the words out through her own series of chuckles.
âI'm not!â Past you exclaimed. Billie just shook her head, scrambling over to you to grab your phone, the both of you erupting into whole-hearted laughter. The last blurry frame of the video was of Billie's smiling face looking at you. You admired her perfect teeth and lips, the shape of her nose, and those damn ocean eyes, far more beautiful than any body of water you'd ever seen.
That familiar fluttery feeling returned to your stomach again.
You shut off your phone and quickly placed it on your bedside table. You rolled over in your bed, still thinking of that video. You were beginning to feel something in your chest. Your heart felt like it was constricting again. You tried to ignore, instead attempting to shift the focus of your thoughts on the weight of your blanket encompassing you, or the gentle sound of whatever random sitcom you had playing on your television for background noise; but your mind always wandered back to Billie. Her smile, her laugh, her touch.
You were deeply, madly in love with Billie Eilish, your best friend, and it was starting to drive you insane. This was not a crush, no, it was more than a crush â it was like a craving, a desire so strong it entirely consumed you.
You were so fucked.
You closed your eyes, desperately just wanting to sleep. You weren't even necessarily physically tired. Just tired of your brain going a thousand miles a minute and constantly thinking about her.
After a few long minutes of battling complete and utter restlessness, you had mentally exhausted yourself enough to the point where you were finally starting to drift off â until you heard your phone go off, which abruptly pulled you away from the brink of sleep. Normally, you would ignore it, but you recognized that notification tone. It was a tone that you specifically gave to Billie, and whenever she texted, you had to answer.
You opened your messaging app, squinting a bit at the brightness of your screen in the dark room.
heyyyy u up
i'm in the studio by myself
feeling lonely as hell
You heard the messages in her voice. You found yourself smiling again, imagining her in her little swivel chair, maybe playing a melody on the piano or strumming a tune on the guitar.
Without wasting a second, you replied.
you: of course i'm up
you: god you can't do anything without me huh?
You chuckled to yourself, watching those three little dots disappear and reappear.
billie: you are absolutely correct
billie: you just really inspire me what can i say
billie: i'm not even joking you really do
You ignored the warmth in your cheeks at her words, opting to play around some more.
you: ew
you: cheesy ass
To that, Billie replied almost instantly:
billie: shut your mouth
billie: ARE YOU COMINGGG
bille: seriously tho i know it's late but we haven't hung out in a while and i kinda miss youuuu or whateverrrr
You didn't respond right away, staring up at your plain white ceiling, releasing a sigh. Your smile faltered a bit.
She missed you. And you missed her. And even though being around her made you feel like you were gonna lose your mind, she didn't deserve to be pushed away.
âYou are going to get over your feelings, starting now.â you said to yourself encouragingly, getting out of your bed to meet Billie at her place. You finally threw her a reply back.
you: i'm omw :))))))
______
You didn't knock when you finally arrived since you had the key, but you did make your presence known.
âBil,â you shouted out. You didn't get a response, but you shrugged it off. She was probably deeply concentrated on whatever lyric or melody she was trying to create. You made your way to the studio, feeling your heart race inside of your chest. As you walked down the stairs and down a hallway, getting closer to the studio door, you felt more and more anxious.
You were going to open the door, your hand resting on the doorknob, but you froze when you heard the soft sound of humming. You leaned in closer, honing in on the gentle sound of Billie's voice, muffled and just barely audible.
âI want you to stay⊠til I'm in theâŠâ She trailed off. You heard her let out a heavy sigh. Thatâs when you decided to make your presence known.
You slowly opened the door, quietly enough that Billie hadnât even turned around in her chair, looking up at the large television screen in front of her, messing around with some music production software that you could never understand. You continued to stand in the doorway, watching as Billie made some small edits within the current song she seemed to be working on. She hit play after making some miniscule changes, the unfinished song softly playing out of the large speakers. As soon as the instrumental filled the room, you felt chills on every inch of your body; it sounded beautiful despite the fact that it wasnât even done. Youâd never get over how lucky you were to be able to hear the early versions of Billieâs songs â it was like being let into a secret world, and it made you feel special that you, alongside her family, got to witness every step of the process.
Eventually, the short snippet of the song had stopped, and Billie leaned back in her seat. Just from her posture you could tell that she seemed defeated, like something about the song just wasnât right to her. She began humming again, mumbling out some lyrics here and there. You found yourself grinning as you admired Billie in her element, but then you remembered that you still hadnât announced your presence and that you were just creepily ogling at her from the doorway. You audibly chuckled at yourself which, of course, finally grabbed Billieâs attention.
She spun around in her chair, seemingly startled at first before she realized it was you.
âJesus Christ,â she started, her adorable laugh filling the quiet studio. âDid you just get here?â
You shook your head, heading over to the couch and making yourself comfortable. âI was standing there for a good few minutes.â You replied with a grin.
âDon't ever do that again â my heart fell into my ass.â She exclaimed, and you let out a loud cackle at that. You grabbed one of the throw pillows next to you and held it in your arms, reclining back into the familiar cushions.
âOkay, won't happen again. Maybe. No promises.â You joked, to which Bille just rolled her eyes playfully.
âAnyway, whatcha workinâ on?â You asked curiously, your eyes going back to the music software she had on the screen.
âThe album, obviously.â Billie said with a smirk. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, not being able to fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
âShut up,â you said with mirth. âWhich track?â
âIt's called Birds of a Feather, it's track 4. It's⊠pretty shit, right now.â
Your eyes widened in complete and utter bewilderment, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.
âBillie, what? I just heard the little snippet you played and it sounded incredible.â
âYou say everything I make sounds incredible.â
âBecause it's true.â You replied sincerely. To that, Billie gave you a gentle smile, looking down at her lap as if shy at the sudden praise. You felt the sensation of warmth throughout your body at just how endearing she was.
âAll you do is gas me up.â Billie replied through a series of chuckles.
âOf course I'm gonna gas up my amazingly talented super star best friend,â You responded. âBut⊠can I ask why you think it's bad?â
Billie sighed, leaning back in her chair again, twiddling her thumbs. âIt's just⊠the lyrics are giving me a hard time. And the instrumental is missing something but I don't know what it is.â
âCan I read the lyrics?â You asked.
At that, Billie looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. She seemed hesitant, which was definitely unusualâshe always let you read her lyrics and never felt shy about sharing stuff with you.
âYeah, go ahead.â Bille said after a few long seconds of pondering, but you could still hear the uncertainty in her voice. Curious, your brows furrowed.
âBil, I understand if it's something you don't wanna share with me yetââ
âNo, please,â she said, quickly handing you her journal, already having opened it to the pages that contained the lyrics in question. âYou can read it.â
You glanced at her expression one more time as you took the journal, and noticed that this time â she was holding back a smile, biting her bottom lip.
You were equal parts confused and eager to see what Billie seemed a little hesitant to share. You silently began reading what she had written, taking in her adorable, albeit messy handwriting. There were all kinds of scribbles on the page, certain words were crossed out. It was fascinating to you to see her thought process on the page. You loved just how deeply she thought about every word, every sentence.
Eventually, you stopped admiring her crooked letters and side notes and finally began analyzing the lyrics themselves â and when you did, you honestly wanted to cry at how lovely they were.
I want you to stay
Till I'm in the grave
Till I rot away, dead and buried
Till I'm in the casket you carry
If you go, I'm going too
âCause it was always you
And if I'm turning blue
Please don't save me
Nothing left to lose
Without my baby
âBillie, these areâŠâ you paused, searching for the right words. âThese are so sweet.â You said with a smile, meeting her warm blue eyes that were still trained on your face.
âThanks.â She replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
As you read some more, a question had crossed your mind. Your eyes trailed off the page as you internally debated with yourself whether or not you should even ask because you were little afraid of what the answer would be.
It was clear to you these lyrics were about someoneâ they had to be. And the very thought of this song being about someone else in Billie's life made you feel as if there was a heavy weight in your stomach. For a second, you foolishly thought that you'd be able to overcome the feelings you had for Billie. All it took was imagining her with someone else that made those feelings rush back all at once.
You must've been quiet for longer than intended, because Billie spoke up. âAre they actually terrible? Do you hate them and you're trying to figure out how to break it to me?â Billie asked, that playful tone creeping back into her voice.
You chuckled. âThey are far from terrible, Bil, it's justâŠâ
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.
âI was just wondering⊠who's it about?â You asked, feeling unreasonably nervous about her response. You don't even know why, because you had long accepted that there was a possibility she didn't like you like that. You were prepared to be heartbroken â but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt any less.
But all Billie did was just⊠laugh.
âGuess.â She said, crossing her arms.
Oh, God. So there is someone else, you thought.
With a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, you said, âHow the hell am I supposed to guess? But I'm happy for you, regardless.â You said, trying to be lighthearted, but your voice dropped a bit, possibly revealing your true feelings.
âOkay, do you want a hint?â
You stared at her incredulously. âYou seriously want me to guess?â
âDo you want a hint or no?â Billie asked again, ignoring your question. She was smiling widely now, and you were still feeling that pang of sadness that you couldn't quite shake, but you continued to play along anyway.
âSure. I'll take a hint.â You said.
âOkay,â Billie started. âShe's my best friend in the entire world.â
âYou have a lot of best friends-â
âGirl, let me finish.â Billie said with a laugh. âShe's my best friend in the entire world who's known me my entire life. She's come with me to almost every show, every interview, and has supported me through everything.â
Billie had come a little closer to you now, her tone becoming more sincere with every word.
âWhen I'm lonely, she comes and visits me in the studio, even when it's ridiculously late. And she always compliments me and never lets me feel bad about anything I make.â
Slowly, but surely, you were beginning to realize something. Her descriptions were becoming more and more specific. Were you being delusional?
âBillie, I⊠what are you saying?â You asked. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, hard enough you were sure they'd be bruised.
âStill don't know?â She asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.
You shook your head.
âOkay, I'll just tell you then.â
Billie gently cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch almost instantly. She was close enough that you could feel her breath on your lips.
âShe's right in front of me.â She said with a grin.
You couldn't even process the sentence that just came out of her mouth, frozen in shock and disbelief.
âThis song is about me?â You asked quietly, your voice breaking slightly. You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, all of the emotion brewing within you threatening to spill.
âDo you remember the last time we hung out and you were filming me writing? I was writing this. I was writing this and thinking about you and how much I love you. I realized it as I was just⊠sitting there. You were laughing at some dumb meme on your phone and I just remember thinking how much I wanted you all to myself.â
You didn't realize you were crying until Billie had wiped away a tear.
âHey, hey,â Billie said ever so softly, opting to hold both of your hands now. âWhy are you crying?â
You laughed a bit through the tears, sniffling a few times before answering. âBecause I⊠can't believe you felt this way the whole fucking time. I was going crazy, Billie.â
Billie let out a loud laugh of her own. It was your favorite sound in the world.
âSorry. Honestly, I was trying to figure out my own feelings and how to tell you.â
âNo, I'm sorry. For pushing you away.â you replied. Billie shook her head.
âOh my god, stop. You don't have to apologize. It all worked out in the end, right?â She asked.
You smiled. âYeah. It did.â
For several long seconds, there was a comfortable silence that stretched between the two of you. The both of you were smiling at each other, completely lost in the other's eyes. You didn't miss the way Billie's eyes glanced at your lips.
âBillie.â You spoke.
âYeah, baby?â
The pet name made your heart soar.
âIf you don't fucking kiss me right nowââ
Billie didn't even let you finish your sentence, her lips colliding with your eyes in an explosion of pent up feelings and passion. She held both sides of your face in your hands, while yours snaked around her waist. You held onto her like she was gonna disappear any second and kissed her like you were starving.
The kiss started off innocentâ but it quickly delved into something a bit more intense when Billie just slightly bit your lip, not enough to cause pain but enough to make you gasp. She introduced her tongue hesitantly, silently asking for your permission, which you granted without a second thought.
At some point, Billie finally got out of her swivel chair and moved to sit down on the couch with you. The two of you had pulled apart briefly for that, and when Billie was seated, her eyes were hooded and she was gazing at you like you were sex on legs. She patted her lap, and liked an obedient dog, you wasted no time crawling into her lap.
âI've dreamt about this.â You said, completely breathless and warm in the face.
âOh, yeah?â Billie asked with a smirk that had your insides flipping upside down. âWhat else have you dreamt about?â
âBeing able to call you mine.â
At that, Billie smiled. âThat's all?â
âNo, that's not all, but⊠I'd rather show than tellâŠâ you trailed off, but it was obvious what you were referring to.
âWe are getting out of my brother's basement, right fucking now.â Billie said.
The two of you snuck out of Finneasâ house, hand-in-hand and giggling like little kids in love.
#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fic#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you#billie eilish#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish fanfic
710 notes
·
View notes