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munsonslove · 2 years

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Open Drawers

(18+ only)

summary: You forget to close the drawer to your nightstand and your best friend accidentally finds your vibrator.

wordcount: 4.3k

tags/warnings: fem!reader, slight softdom!eddie, friends to lovers, smut, use of sex toys, praise kink (good girl), very slight degradation (he calls you a slut once), pet names (sweetheart, princess), spit used as lubricant, edging, overstim, no use of y/n

a/n: i teased this fic a while ago, sorry it took me a bit to actually post it but i hope you like it anyway!! requests are open and much appreciated, if i know someones actively waiting for me to write something for them i’ll be more likely to not spend a whole ass month on it lmao

It’s been weeks of torture. Ever since Eddie found out about your ‘little secret’ he’s refused to let it go, bringing it up as often as he can just to humiliate you further. It was cruel behavior, especially from the man you consider your best friend. Though you can’t be too surprised, considering he’d always had an affection for teasing you. In the past it had always been rather playful and innocent- maybe just ever so slightly suggestive- but you were generally able to ignore his flirtatious comments and retain your close relationship (no matter how much they made your pining heart flutter). It had been almost a month since everything changed.

Nobody was home when you returned from your shift, and inspecting the refrigerator revealed a note left to you from your roommates stating that they would be gone for the rest of the night. The news was passed along through phone call to your best friend before you even changed out of your work clothes, and within the hour Eddie had arrived at your door with a six-pack of beer and a relaxed grin. He entered without knocking (having been given a spare key from the day you moved in) and found you sprawled out on the couch, movie just starting with a large bowl of popcorn already made. You don’t even bother sparing him a glance up as he kisses the crown of your head before plopping down directly on top of you.

You try and fail to kick him off. Admittedly you may have been able to muster more strength for the task if you hadn’t been laughing at his typical antics. Failure becomes even more set in stone when his hands find their way to your sides and you dramatically call out “uncle, uncle!” in hopes that he will mercifully cease his relentless tickling. Thankfully, he does seem to be feeling benevolent this evening and climbs off, allowing you to sit up as he takes his place next to you. After ripping a can from its plastic rings, you pop open the tab and take a sip while Eddie grabs fistfulls of popcorn and shoves them into his mouth with a total lack of manners. You conclude that something is definitely wrong with you for finding this somehow endearing, and you gaze at him longingly until he turns to you with a mock-disgruntled eye roll.

“John Hughes?”, he complains, mouth still half full, “Can’t we watch something else?”

You smirk at his predictability. “I knew we wouldn’t make it past the opening scene,” you respond while tsk-ing at him and shaking your head. “I rented a couple of cheesy looking b-movies just yesterday. You know, slasher flicks that for sure spent all their budget on fake blood?”

He smiles big and jumps up off of the sofa. “Aw, my favorite! You do love me!” he exclaims with sarcastic sentiment, “You remember to stash the tapes somewhere your thief roommates couldn’t find?”

“First of all, stop calling my friends thieves. That was one time,” you say while slapping lightly at his leg from your lowered position, “And second, yeah. They’re next to my bed.”

He nods and heads to your bedroom, not wasting time to ask permission seeing as after so many years you both had developed a ‘me casa es su casa’ type of unspoken agreement. After a few more sips of your beer and picking at a partially popped kernel, you notice that Eddie is taking an unusual amount of time retrieving the tapes. You were sure that you had left them on your nightstand, you even remember seeing them while in bed this morning as you were reaching over to-

Oh. Fuck.

The can drops from your hand and falls to the floor, spilling light amber liquid onto the hardwood. Rushing into your room, you see Eddie standing in front of the drawer you had forgone closing while leaving earlier, looking down into it with a clear view of your 18th birthday present to yourself. He whips around, jaw dropped in shock. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes as he stares you down, and you realize that you have no idea what he’s thinking about. Probably all the new ammunition he now has to use against you during one of your future banter sessions.

You run forward, shoving him sideways onto the bed and slamming the drawer shut. He lands with a huff- his back on the mattress- before propping himself up onto his elbows, still looking at you with that confusing expression. His silence so far is honestly more nerve wracking than him ruthlessly making fun of you would have been.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize frantically. “I completely forgot I left this open, and I didn’t know we’d be hanging out tonight, and when I sent you in here I didn’t even think about it, and I never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, and I-”

“Woah, princess,” he cuts off your rambling, using that nickname that he’s been using ever since the two of you met back in school. It usually brought a warmth to your cheeks, but given that you already felt sick to your stomach the sweet moniker was not appreciated. “It’s fine, I promise!”

“Fine?” you cry out, the sound muffled by your palms as your heated face is now buried behind your hands. You turn your body to face away from him, and he pushes back with his arms to sit up the rest of the way, then reaches forward to grip your elbow and spin you back around.

“Yeah, I swear! You didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything,” he consoles. “I was just surprised, is all. I just… wouldn’t have expected… you… to have that.” As he speaks the final word, he gestures to the freshly closed drawer containing your magic wand vibrator. The room falls quiet once more as he stares blankly at the offending table, seemingly lost in thought.

You shove his shoulder a little more harshly than you mean to, and he blinks back to consciousness and rubs where you met contact before re-meeting your eyes. “Don’t look at it like that!” you chastise, ignoring the fact that he technically wasn’t looking at ‘it’ like anything, seeing as it was now hidden out of sight. Your head falls into the cover of your hands yet again as you groan out, “Ugh! You probably think I’m some kind of slut now.”

“N-no!” he’s quick to deny, shaking his head. “Of course I don’t think that about you! I mean, come on, give me some credit. It’s the 80s,” he counters, with emphasis on the last word, “guys can be progressive now. I know girls masturbate too!”

“Please don’t say that word,” you reply, your hands still hiding your face but compromising by peeking out through your fingers.

“What?” he questions with a smirk, “Masturbate?”

“You’re completely impossible,” you state, giving in and dropping your arms to your side. You pick up the videos from your messy nightstand and turn on your heel to walk out the door, not even stopping as you shout out “Are you coming or what, Eds?”

Behind you, Eddie takes the opportunity of your back being turned to adjust himself in his pants and prays that he manages to keep it down throughout the duration of movie night.

That was almost an entire month ago. While Eddie took pity on you for the remainder of that night, the very next morning began his onslaught of mockery. Although, perhaps mockery wasn’t quite the right word, because you know all his jokes were meant to be lighthearted and fun. You know if you told him he was making you uncomfortable that he would stop in a heartbeat, so the real problem you’re facing is that you don’t want him to stop. Every time he shows up unannounced and slyly asks, “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?” with that knowing gleam in his eyes, you’re not sure if you want to scold him for his teasing or jump his bones. Him speaking so candidly about something that’s always been so private should be embarrassing- and it is- but it would be dishonest to say the butterflies in your stomach are only there because of your modesty. Truth be told, he was turning you on every time he hinted at the fact that he knows all about your favorite form of self care.

Not only were the teasing comments nonstop, there were also the questions. Eddie was relentlessly curious about the process (which confounded you considering you thought the situation was pretty straightforward) and he never seemed to run out of things he wanted to ask you.

“How long have you had it?”, “How many settings are there?”, “How often do you use it?”, “Do you need it to get off?”, “What do you think about when you use it?” (definitely couldn’t answer that one honestly), and finally, “How exactly do you use it?”

According to him, he wanted to know the ‘right way’ to use one on a girl for future reference. One day, the frustration of constantly having to dodge his incessant questions became too much, and without thinking you blurted out, “If you’re so curious about how to use it, why don’t I just teach you?” Understandably, your outburst shocked the both of you. What shocked you more was when Eddie quickly recovered and excitedly agreed.

That was how you found yourself spread out on your bed with your best friend on his knees in between your thighs. Your most private area is only covered by your hands, and your discarded panties are tucked in Eddie’s back jeans pocket.

“How am I supposed to do this if you’re hiding, princess?” he asks, observing the toy and turning it over in his hands, “Don’t be shy. It’s just me.”

That was the problem. It was him, your friend that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on for years. Now you’re in a position with him that you’ve fantasized about so many times, and you don’t know what it means for the future of your relationship. Above you, Eddie fiddles with the two buttons, figuring out the mechanics of what they do. He discovers the bottom button turns it on while the top changes the speed. There are three settings, and after cycling through them all it starts back at the beginning, only turning off by pressing the bottom button once more. When he’s done figuring out how the toy works, he powers it on to the lowest setting and looks at you expectantly, eyes flitting between your hands and face. You turn your head to the side, take one final deep breath and move your arms to your stomach, revealing yourself to him.

The air is cold on your exposed center. Other than your shaky exhaling and the humming of the vibrator, it’s quiet. You realize with embarrassment that Eddie has stopped breathing, and when you steal a glance back at him he’s staring at your bare center with an unreadable expression. You instinctively hide your face in your hands, and your thighs involuntarily twitch to close. Of course, they can’t fully shut with Eddie sitting in between them, but the movement does stir the boy from his trance. He pries your hands away from your face and you’re forced to confront his inspecting of you.

He kisses a wet peck to the tip of your nose like he’s done so many times before, and just like always your entire face scrunches up with a smile. With eyes now closed, you start to feel giddy and you can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. You half expect Eddie to start laughing with you, but no sound comes from your friend. Suddenly- and without warning- he presses the vibrator directly to your clit. Your eyes snap open, rolling back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high pitched squeal escapes out of your slack-jawed mouth.

“Such a pretty sound from such a pretty girl,” Eddie says, barely loud enough to hear considering the buzzing raised in volume due to being pushed up against something. It’s almost like he was more absentmindedly commenting to himself rather than purposefully complimenting you.

You’re only capable of responding with moans as your legs fold into your torso and your toes start to curl. It’s still set to the lowest vibration option, but your aforementioned nerves and arousal were making you much more sensitive than you would otherwise be while using the toy alone. Eddie’s empty hand moves to stroke your inner thigh, before inching toward your center slowly. He seems to be asking permission to touch you himself, and the fact that he still thinks to wait for consent while literally sitting in between your legs after taking off your underwear almost has you laughing again. Instead, you simply nod your head. Eddie’s fingers immediately spread your lips further, allowing the head of the vibrator to be able to hit your clit more directly. The buzzing becomes higher in pitch as he goes up one setting, and the sensation becomes too much to handle.

“Sorry,” he whispers when you whine and start to squirm away, “I’ll be nice.”

After positioning yourself back into place, you mumble out, “Sensitive…” as an explanation. Your voice is surprisingly weak.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, though you doubt he actually feels regretful, “I know.”

The sound of clicking reaches your ears as Eddie toggles the toy back to the first setting. His thumb briefly brushes over your clit, causing you to shiver and gasp, and he breathes out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against you once more- this time more gently. The vibrations are more bearable this way, and you feel the pleasure slowly start to rise and rise until you become a moaning puddle beneath the metalhead. Just as you’re crying out his name- a warning that you're about to cum- he pulls away, cruelly laughing at your protesting.

“Eds, what the fuck?” you shout, frustratedly. “I was so close! Why the hell would you-”

“Calm down, princess,” he interrupts. “You know I’ll get you there. I just wanna have some fun along the way.”

And you do know. You trust him more than anyone else- you’d trust him with your life- but you also know that he’s a little shit. “Please, Eds. Please just get to it,” you beg.

He stares at the head of the toy for a moment before lifting it to his face. His tongue parts his lips, swollen and pink from him biting them, and your eyes widen as he slowly licks directly where the silicone was just touching you. He moans, and his eyes roll back into his head. The sight only drives you more wild, and your hips start rocking the bed as you wait for him to continue.

He starts to bite his lips again as he watches you grind against nothing, desperately searching for friction. “Maybe I was wrong before,” he says slowly with a teasing lilt, “maybe you are a slut.” He had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before.

Your entire body raises in temperature. “Eddie…” you whine, surprised by how much his rudeness is affecting you. “Please…”

“So fucking wet, dripping all over your sheets,” he continues distractedly, paying no mind to your pleading as he caressed up and down your slit, collecting your juices. When he pulls away, you notice the lights of your bedroom reflecting off the glistening moisture on his fingers, and you resist the urge to hide again. “Such a pretty pussy. The prettiest. She’s not used to being treated so nicely, huh?”

As usual, his confidence blurs the line between incredibly sexy and incredibly annoying. His words are making your insides flutter, and probably worsening the ‘dripping all over your sheets’ problem. Still, you can’t help but feel your frustration grow. “Please, Eds, make me cum. Please make me cum,” you beg some more as you scoot down the bed. Your thighs no longer have the room to be laying on either side of him. Instead, they are now resting atop his own thighs, with your pelvises almost meeting making contact.

“So desperate for your best friend to make you cum. Are you always this wet, princess?” As he asks this, the vibrator meets your center again. He rubs it back and forth vertically in quick motions, and you groan in relief.

You answer by shaking your head no. It definitely wasn’t always like this. In fact, it was never like this. The toy slid so effortlessly between your puffy lips, massaging your sensitive nub directly and bringing tears to your eyes.

“Aw,” he cooed, “so it’s just for me?”

As embarrassed as you feel, you figure there’s no use in denying it now. “J- just for you.”

That familiar feeling of climax starts to creep up on you once more, and once more you cry out in annoyance when Eddie eases up the pressure before pulling off entirely.

“No!” you sob, “Eddie please, I need it so bad.”

“You’ll cum when I’m ready for you to cum,” he says, though the dominance in his tone is betrayed by the lust in his eyes. “I just want to play with you for a little longer. You’ll be a good girl, right?”

You suspect that he won’t start up again until you agree, so you do so without a second thought. “I’ll be your good girl,” you promise, “I’ll be good.”

He smiles wide at you before spreading your lips apart and leaning down to spit directly in between them, not that you needed the extra lubrication. Feeling his saliva make contact sent shockwaves through your body, and your back arched just in time for him to harshly press the vibrator back to your clit and start rubbing it in fast circles. This time, the orgasm doesn’t so much creep up on you as it does jump out in front of you, and you’re about to give in until you hear Eddie’s voice behind the haze.

“Hold it,” he orders. “You said you would be good, so be a good little slut and hold it.”

Your head is already thrown back, and you squeeze your eyes shut in concentration. Every fiber of your being is focused on not cumming, wanting to do as Eddie wishes so you can please him. Noticing your efforts, he lifts the toy off of your aching clit and allows you to catch your breath. With your newfound relief from the strain of resisting climax, you notice that Eddie’s free hand has left your waist, and you look down to a glorious sight.

Eddie’s palming himself through his jeans. The image burns itself into your eyelids, so not even blinking becomes an escape from what you're witnessing your best friend do to himself (not that you’re complaining). You silently observe in awe as he attempts to shove his hand down his pants, and struggles on account of them being too tight. To remedy this, he unzips his jeans and slides them down just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of his hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. There’s a wet patch where his head was leaking precum, and a clear imprint of his impressively girthy shaft. Once the pants are out of his way you see his hand disappear inside of his underwear as he wraps it around his member and starts jerking harshly, not fully able to stroke up and down his length given the obstructive clothing.

The pure, unadulterated lust that’s consuming you is overpowering any shyness you previously felt. “Eddie,” you say his name, but he ignores you considering you’ve been a constant stream of “Eddie, Eddie, oh Eddie,” for the past ten minutes. “Eds,” you try again, “you can take it out.”

All movement inside his boxers halts. “Huh?” he exclaims with wide eyes, “A- are you sure? This was supposed to be about you.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm. And you lift up your t-shirt to reveal the white lacy bra underneath as you elaborate, “I want you to finish on me.”

His forehead wrinkles as his eyebrows shoot up in shock. With his wide eyed staring, it almost seems like he can’t believe what you’re saying. Drool pools in his open mouth before he composes himself with a head shake. Wordlessly, he sets the still vibrating toy down on the mattress and lifts your thighs off of him, before sitting up enough to pull down the sides of his boxers. His cock springs up the second his underwear is out of the way, and -without thinking about the consequences- you spit into your palm and reach out to tentatively wrap your fingers around him.

The strangled noise that leaves his mouth is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He instinctively bucks his hips, but freezes, waiting for you to make the call. You start stroking him hard and fast, not bothering working up to a quicker speed when you were already so desperate for release and wanted him to cum with you. Eddie can apparently relate to said desperation, and hastily picks up the toy back up. Every muscle inside of you clenched as he started rubbing the tip against your clit in small circles. You strained to prolong this moment, knowing your eventual orgasm would be much more rewarding if you could see his face as he came all over your hand and stomach.

“God, sweetheart,” he groans, “So fucking good. So much better than my hand.”

The mental image of Eddie touching himself has you cursing out loud. “Really?” you ask, the pride getting to your head, making you feel light and floaty.

“You have no idea,” he responds. “Been fucking my fist nonstop since that movie night. Couldn’t help myself. All I could think about was you getting off, moaning my name.” You wonder if he knows just how real his fantasy was.

His free hand gently caresses the lacy undergarment covering your chest, his touch so light you barely register it. The uncertainty in his actions is clear, so in lieu of giving verbal consent you simply take his hand in your own and guide it to be fully on your breast.

“Can I pull this down, princess?” he practically begs, and you answer with a nod. He immediately tugs the breast cups downward, revealing your naked chest. Your soft, unmarked flesh is framed by the bunched up fabric of your shirt that’s been gathered at your clavicle, and the lacy material of your bra being held below by Eddie’s trembling hand. His hips are now moving in time with the rhythm of your strokes, and the rocking is causing your tits to bounce in a way that has his angry red tip spilling precum all over your hand as he attempts to hold off his release. The sight has you imagining what he would taste like, with you on your knees in the back of his van, and that thought has you hurtling toward the finish line at an embarrassing speed.

“Cum for me,” he orders. The second he gives you permission, you feel the damn break. As you're busy crying out in pleasure, you faintly hear Eddie in the background. “Good girl,” he grunts, “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You cum with his name on your lips. The intensity of this orgasm is unfamiliar, and you realize with bitterness that the edging you were forced to endure was truly worth the end result. With your mind elsewhere, your stroking halts and you hear the creaking of your bed as Eddie starts to violently thrust into your fist until he meets you in orgasmic bliss. Warmth falls on your naked torso and you look down to see that he’s angled his cock to be aiming at your stomach, fulfilling your earlier wish of him finishing on you. The sight of him using your hand to milk himself dry combined with the buzzing still pressed hard against your clit has you cumming harder than you ever have before. Your hand falls from Eddie as his high comes to an end, but he does nothing to pull away the toy and offer relief to your achingly sensitive core. Any attempt to wiggle your hips free from his hold seems to go unnoticed by his strength, and you have no choice but to take the unrelenting vibrations. The overstimulation has tears falling down the side of your face as your shoulders raise from the bed, the top of your scalp pushing into the mattress as your head is thrown back. Eventually, you are able to move away, and Eddie turns off the toy and chucks it off the bed before climbing on top of you and finally kissing you on the lips.

With both of you breathing heavily into the other’s open mouth, the kiss isn’t exactly how you always imagined your first kiss with your best friend to go, but it’s perfect nonetheless. Your hands find their way into his wild hair, while his tighten their grip on your waist. His tongue in your mouth just barely has the taste of you on it from him licking your toy earlier, and as his thigh brushes your middle small aftershocks rush through your body. You stay like this for a while, lazily making out and feeling each other’s bodies, until he breaks off of your mouth to kiss down your jaw, to your neck, then back up to the side of your face.

When he reaches just under your ear, his lips part from your heated skin to whisper, “So we’re doing that again, right?”

Grabbing a tuft of his hair, you guide him back to your mouth, and with your lips moving against him you answer, “Definitely,” before deepening the kiss. You’re still unsure of what this exactly means for your friendship, but that can be talked about another time.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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httpdwaekki · 7 months

Text

migraine | b.c.

summary: you were known to have pretty intense migraines but chan is there to help you feel better.

wc: 1.9k

warnings: no warnings, just pure fluff, tad bit of hurt/ comfort, sweet channie as always, and in true ashton fashion far too many petnames lmao. very lightly proofread (p.s. i am in my wolfchan lover arc, need him immediately.)

a/n: omg ashton got lost in the sauce again? * gasp* shocker! yeah this took me way too long to write but whatever. i actually don't hate this which is crazy but this is self indulgent because i get some pretty intense, nasty migraines that can last a couple days and it sucks. but if you suffer from the same thing i hope this can bring you some comfort and also i recommend a gel cap that you put in the freezer. an actual game changer, trust. anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

*lowercase intended*

my library

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you had some pretty nasty migraines, no secret to you or chan. they last anywhere from a few hours to a few days and while there were things to help lessen the pain and pressure, sometimes you just had to ride it out.

this was unfortunately one of those times. now usually you would call chan as soon as you felt the first telltale sign of a migraine . this time however, you didn’t, you knew he was busy with work and didn’t want to interfere with that. but you were selfishly starting to regret that decision as everything you were doing did nothing to help.

it seemed like everything did nothing but increase the pressure in your head, spreading to your face. in a last ditch effort to get some sleep you put on some migraine music, pressed a cold compress to your eyes and pulled wolfchan to your chest.

the soft plushie smelled faintly of chan’s cologne, the only thing actually helping you relax. but it also made you miss the aussie man, wishing he was by your side, rubbing your temples, softly lulling you to sleep.

you didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt a warm tear drip down to your neck. you knew you had to calm down or you risk making everything worse but you couldn’t. you were overwhelmed by the pressure in your head and frustrated with nothing helping to release it.

you felt selfish and guilty but you knew you needed chan, you felt like you were going insane without him. hesitantly you moved the compress from your eyes, grabbing your phone.

despite the brightness being on the lowest possible setting, you felt a sharp pain behind your eye as the screen turned on. you unlocked your phone, clicking chan’s contact, you quickly typed out a message.

to channie <3 :

hi, i’m so sorry to ask but i really don’t know what else to do, i have a migraine and nothing's helping. i know you're working but is there anyway when you finish up at the studio you could come over? even for a little bit, if not i totally get it, just thought i’d ask, love you bug.

you hit send, locking your phone, placing it on the soft sheets, placing the compress back over your eyes. a few minutes passed before you felt your phone buzz beside you. you move the cold compress once more, bracing yourself for the light from your phone.

from channie <3:

can you call me jagi? i don’t want you to keep looking at your phone screen, love you too sweet girl.

you click his contact once more, hitting the little phone icon next to his name causing the calming music to stop, a loud ringing replacing it. this caused you to wince and quickly lower the volume before putting it on speaker so you could place the cooling pack back over your eyes.

it didn’t take long before he picked up. “hi my baby, what’s going on?” he asked softly.

“my head hurts,” you started, words slightly slurred. “it’s really bad channie.” you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “i’ve tried everything and nothing’s working, i don’t know what to do.” you softly cried, tears making their way down your cheeks once more.

“okay angel okay, take a deep breath, i need you to relax for me okay? i know it hurts but it’s gonna hurt worse if you’re upset.” you hear rustling in the background.

“i’m just finishing up a few things here and then i’m gonna head over, okay sweetheart?” you respond with a soft whimper, followed by a quiet, “okay.” you press the pack further into your eyes, chasing the coolness that is quickly leaving the gel filled pack.

“do you want me to stay on the phone with you till i get there?” he asks softly, packing his bag.

“yes, please.” you mumbled. “okay baby, just keep breathing and focus on me, okay? i’m gonna pick up some food on the way too, okay?” you hummed in response, rolling over, pushing the soft plushie to your cheek, breathing in the familiar scent.

“everything okay?” you hear changbin ask in the background. “yeah, y/n has a migraine, so i’m going to help her.” chan responds.

“oh no, i hope she feels better, let us know if you guys need anything.” you hear han chime in, your heart swelling at the boys concern.

“will do, thank you, i’ll see you guys later.” you hear him open the studio door making his way into the hallway.

“you still with me, jagi?” he asks softly. “yeah, i’m here.” face squished into the soft fabric. “alright sweetheart, i’m gonna mute for a bit just until i get to my car, okay?” he asks, the elevator dings in the background, signaling its arrival.

“okay.” you say sleepily. “i love you baby, i’ll be right back.” you hear him press a button in the elevator. “love you too bub.” your words slurring slightly.

after chan muted, you felt yourself slowly succumb to the exhaustion, phone positioned next to you on the sheets, wolfchan tucked safely against your cheek, you, curled up in a soft blanket .

that is exactly how chan found you about 25 minutes later as he walked in your room, the space dimly lit by the oil diffuser sitting on your bedside table. he left the take-out bags sitting on your kitchen counter, fresh compress and cold water in hand. he gently places the water on your desk, making his way over to you.

he grabs your phone, ending the call before turning off the relaxing music. he sits next to your sleeping form, gently taking the warm pack off your face. he places a kiss on your forehead before placing the fresh compress on your eyes.

you tense for a moment, before relaxing as the cold begins to relieve the tension once more. you stir awake from the sudden change in temperature. “channie?” you asked, sleep laced in your voice.

he places a hand on your hips, his thumb rubbing soothing circles to the area. “hi, my baby,” he whispers. “how are you feeling hm?” he asks, continuing the soothing motion. you move the cool pack, grabbing his free hand, in this lap, threading your fingers together before placing a kiss on the back of his.

“better now that you’re here.” you murmured, giving him a small smile. he smiled back before leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“i got you some ramen, i’m gonna go grab it for you okay?” you nodded, him standing, still keeping your hand in his. he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before placing the compress back over your eyes, grabbing the warm one to put back in the freezer .

he gives your hand a light squeeze before walking away. you relax into the soft mattress below you while chan goes to grab the hot soup and some medicine just in case.

he walks in with the tray, setting it on your desk next to the cold water collecting condensation on the wood below it. he makes his way over to you, sitting next to you once again, gently lifting the pack off your eyes. “there she is,” he placed a hand on your cheek, setting the compress next to you.

“hi baby.” he smiled, softly stroking your cheek. you give him a small smile back before turning your head slightly to place a kiss to his palm. “can you sit up for me please?” you nod softly before slowly moving to lean against the wall behind you.

“careful jagi.” he whispered, quickly placing a hand behind your head. “thank you, bug.” you mumble, adjusting the pillows behind you, placing wolfchan in your lap . chan stands up once more, placing the water on the tray before bringing it over to you.

“thank you, chan, you really didn’t have to do all this.” you say, guilt creeping up on you once again. he shakes his head. “nope, none of that. i’m your boyfriend, this is my job.” he places the tray on your lap, taking his place next to you once again.

“plus, i love taking care of you. if you need me, i’m there. any time, any place, simple as that.” your heart swells, you feel a lump form in the back of your throat. “you can’t say stuff like that when i’m like this, i’ll cry.” you play with the plushie’s ears before feeling a finger lift your chin.

“i love you, and i’ll always be here for you, no matter where either of us are, okay?” he said, looking into your eyes, with nothing but love and sincerity. you nod, “i love you too.” he smilled, carefully leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead.

“now, you need to eat, i got your favorite.” he says, picking up the hot soup, opening the lid, before separating the chopsticks. he dips the wooden sticks in the soup, giving it a stir before grabbing some of the noodles.

he gently blows on the steaming noodles before offering it to you, container under it to catch any dripping soup. you giggle, “you know i can feed myself right?” he frowns, pushing the noodles and container closer to you. “eat.”

you smile before opening your mouth, accepting the food he so generously offered you. a smile made it’s way onto his face, feeding you a few more bites. he placed the container back down, chopsticks resting in the soup, before grabbing the medicine and water.

“take these.” he placed them in your hand, opening the water as you dropped the pills in your mouth. he hands you the water, watching as you greedly gulp down the cool beverage. “ how are you feeling, angel?” he asks gently.

“it still hurts but i think eating and drinking definitely helped.” you smiled, handing him the bottle. “ good, i’m glad. eat a few more bites then we’ll lay down, okay?” he says, picking up the soup once more.

you end up finishing the ramen before he grabs the tray and the now warm compress. “do you want a cold one?” he asks holding up the pack.

“yes please.” you nod slightly. “okay, get comfy, i’ll be right back jagi.” you smile laying back down as he leaves the room.

he comes back, shortly after, with a fresh compress and another bottle of water. he places the water next to your diffuser, placing the compress over your eyes. he circles the bed, climbing under the covers.

he lays down, pulling you into him, placing your head on his chest. you place your arm around his wait, hand slipping under his shirt, rubbing your thumb across his soft skin.

he brings his hand up, rubbing soft circles on your temples, placing kiss on the top of your head. “sleep jagi, we can shower when you wake up okay?’ you nod slightly against him.

“thank you, channie. i love you, more than you know.” you mumble, tightening your arms around him. “i love you too baby, i’ll always take care of you, okay?” placing one last kiss to your hair.

that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms. the pressure in your head, slowly releasing, finally able to relax.

reblogs/feedback are appreciated! i hope you guys enjoyed!

do no repost

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palajae · 22 days

Text

episode three. | park sunghoon

PAIRING ▸ host!sunghoon x reader

GENRE ▸ ouran high school host club!au, high school! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WC ▸ 3.1k

SUMMARY ▸ host park sunghoon: the strong and silent type. with his cold, tsundere personality and killer good looks, it’s hard not to fall for sunghoon. his connection to sunoo is of utmost importance; however, you could be the one to change that. (but be warned, he’s a man of few words.)

AKA episode three of the kiss, kiss, fall in love! series

AN/NOTES ▸ social awkwardness, not proofread

sorry okay it’s been a fat minute since i posted but FINALLY JAE has gotten the next part out ‼️ i really channeled the engene in me for this one lmao.

EPISODE THREE. Beware the Ice Prince!

seriously, you only started attending the en-host club because your friends did and you really had nothing else to do.

you had heard several of the boys in your grade were in the infamous club, but besides that, you had no interest in “club” affairs.

natty and lily wouldn’t stop talking about how “chivalry wasn’t dead” and how “god had favorites.” you figured by going, you could kill some time and meet some new people.

mainly due to the fact that you were attached to the hip to your… well, sketchbook. what better to utilize the people around you for your passion?

and the most pretty ones were—obviously—found at the en-host club!

by going there, you could observe and hopefully see some good art.

while your friends had their favorite designated hosts and activities, your first entrance to the club involved a lot of awkward silence and muttering.

“you mean, you don’t want to hang out with any of us?” sunoo—you think—frowns.

you shake your head, stammering. “n-no! i just, prefer to be alone. i can just-like-sit in the corner or something.”

he brightens up and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“i see. you just like the company?”

you nod and the host smiles again. “that’s fine. you don’t have to be entertained by one of us. you’re welcome as much as you like! you could even sit by sunghoon!”

your eyebrows furrow as you follow sunoo’s line of sight to-

oh dear.

probably the finest man you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

a true work of art.

your heart pounds uncomfortably in your chest as you glance back at sunoo.

“he doesn’t like to talk much either, so i think you two will get along well!”

you look uncertainly at the controlled chaos happening all around the room, before back at sunoo.

he nods encouragingly at you. “don’t worry. even though sunghoon looks like it, he doesn’t bite. in fact, it’s probably the opposite.”

holding your breath, you clutch your sketchbook tighter in your hands before approaching the table sunghoon was quietly sitting at.

he didn’t even do anything, yet you felt so intimidated.

wow, it was really stifling to be in his presence. awkwardly, you take a seat. and although he doesn’t move, you feel his eyes land on you.

biting your lip, you hesitantly wave.

that was it. no words exchanged.

after a while, you finally began to relax. still, neither of you said anything. you even felt alright enough to open your sketchbook.

your eyes would travel across the room, although they always landed on the same person. the one sitting in front of you, silently sipping his tea.

so you sketched. and you enjoyed it. so much to the point you returned the day after, and the day after.

eventually, the hosts came to know you as a regular. they knew your exact order and your routine. the same every time you came—even without your friends.

they understood that you simply appreciated sitting and observing. with all the things going on at the club, you enjoyed staying off to the side the most.

like sunghoon.

after the first day, you couldn’t work up the courage to approach and sit next to him when he wasn’t with sunoo hosting.

that was fine. you had eyes. you could sketch him as long as you could see him. pages, filled with a variety of sketches, began to fill up your notebook.

and most of them were of sunghoon.

who were you kidding—all of them were of him. every outfit in every season, every expression of his (and he rarely showed emotion). you basically memorized sunghoon’s face.

and in your time observing at the en-host club, you realized you had only heard him speak a total of six phrases: welcome, goodbye, yes, no, and thank you.

he more than piqued your interest, but you were far too shy and unmotivated to do something about it.

checking the clock, you sigh wistfully while putting your sketchbook back into your bag. as always, this was your time to leave. occasionally, one of the hosts would notice you leaving and wave goodbye.

this time, you’re almost to the door when a tall figure suddenly appears in your line of vision.

you falter, swallowing abruptly when you realize it’s sunghoon. he looks dashing in his pink hoodie and light jeans—someone mentioned the boys had a boyfriend concept today.

you stare up at him curiously until he steps closer to you. your mouth dries up at the close proximity. you feel like you can hear your blood rushing in your ears.

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, as per usual. instead, he walks over and holds open the door for you.

for a second, you don’t move. and then it hits you.

what the what the what the, he opened the door for you!

you quickly squeak out a thank you before practically dashing out of the club room. you’re not sure if you heard or imagined the soft “get home safe,” coming from his voice.

was he watching you? is that how he knew to open the door? why did he go all the way to help you? did he know what time you usually left?

you fall onto your bed with a sigh. you were overthinking, and you were delusional. just a little bit.

perhaps, you would work up the courage to talk to him next time.

you swear you’re not that delusional. most of the time it was you who was staring at sunghoon, sneaking glances at him when he wasn’t looking. whenever he was busy hosting. honestly, your best works were of his stunning side profile.

but something feels different from that day forward.

like…like sunghoon was the one staring at you. at first, you were sure you felt eyes on you.

you would glance up from your sketchbook with a frown, glancing around the room. it was at that moment you would catch sunghoon turning away from you.

but in what world would he be looking at you?

he didn’t say a single word.

it happened so often to the point where you would actually meet his eyes before looking away. you always broke eye contact first.

this back-and-forth occurred four times before you decided to do something. yes, you counted.

you decided to remind yourself that you only live once, and you took the chance. you finally stopped being a coward and sat next to sunghoon, one lovely afternoon.

he seems almost shocked when you approach him, like your very first day at the host club.

once again, no words were spoken. you simply smiled before taking the seat. unlike the other girls who usually fawned and squealed over him, all you did was sit and enjoy his company. honestly, he was so familiar to you at this point, you actually felt comfortable.

and when you thought he wasn’t looking, you liked to sneak peeks at him as well. he was even more breathtaking up close.

that became your daily routine whenever sunghoon was free. although it was absurd, you once thought that maybe he looked forward to sitting and watching with you.

“what’s up with you and sunghoon?”

“h-huh?”

natty leans over from her desk to shoot you a look. “i mean, what are you two doing in the corner all day?”

you look down at your desk bashfully, “it’s not all day…i just enjoy his company.”

lily laughs, “sure. i bet you have a lot fun staring at him.”

you feel your face get hot as natty elbows her. “i think the two of you are cute. even if you have nothing to say to each other.”

“yeah, i don’t know how you managed to get so close to him. sunghoon is pretty detached from the other girls. he’s just there half the time with sunoo.”

your heart quickens. was that true?

lily sighs, almost face planting into the table. “what up with all the boys recently? heeseung has been so obsessed with that one student who i don’t even know the name of since they’re so busy studying all the time. and then the top two people of our class are constantly preoccupied with each other. at this rate, i’m gonna move to jake…”

you nodded in contemplation. she was right, you’ve seen heeseung following around your classmate like a baby duck following their mom. even weirder, the two smartest people in your grade started to sit together at the club.

you were there for it all.

“sim jaeyun? um, I’m not sure about him. he and riki have a lot of crazy fan girls,” natty wrinkles her nose. “hey, i did hear there was a new host! his name is jung…jung-something.”

“jungwon,” you finish for her. she nods, “i think he’s pretty handsome.”

“not as much as sunghoon though,” you unconsciously mutter.

sunghoon can easily remember the first day you walked in, eyes wide like you were a kid on their first day of school. the corners of his mouth tilt up slightly. you looked like a baby kitten.

he catches himself, focusing back on sipping tea while sunoo devoured his sweet treats.

“do you want a bite, hoon?”

he shakes his head amusedly at sunoo’s bright expression.

“you should stop eating so many sweets. you already had two slices of cake today.”

while sunoo pouts and gets up to put his plate away, sunghoon refocuses his attention on you. he didn’t mean to—his gaze was just drawn to your presence.

he watches wordlessly as sunoo approaches you. you looked so intimidated, sunghoon already felt bad and he didn’t know the reason.

he catches himself again, internally chiding his own behavior. get a grip, you’re a host.

suddenly, you’re approaching him. you look like a kitten again in front of him, just like when you first walked in. his whole body tenses.

sunghoon waits, yet you don’t say anything. only a simple wave and that’s enough to light a fire in his heart.

he’s surprised to see you sit down and pull out a sketchbook. he observes as you flip through the pages, trying to sneak a peek. but then he realizes he’s being kinda, really creepy.

so sunghoon purposely turns away to focus. look anywhere but at the person sitting across from you, he repeats to himself over and over.

after that day, he noticed you didn’t sit next to him. for quite a while.

so, he chose to watch you. he watched you walk in every afternoon with a hesitant smile. he watched as you took the same seat near the window and pulled out your scuffed up notebook to draw.

he watched how your lips pursed when you weren’t happy with a sketch, or how you would stop to think while looking around you.

sunghoon liked the way your eyes lit up when you turned to a blank, fresh page. and when you would smile and greet the other hosts, gratefully accepting a cup of tea. even the look of concern you had on your face as you watched jake and riki do something stupidly dangerous again.

the thing he liked the most, however, was when he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

sunghoon’s not sure why, but he likes it. after all, he couldn’t say anything. he did the same thing to you.

he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

that’s why, when you sit across from him one day with that stunning smile of yours, his breath hitched.

sunghoon… wanted to say something. he tried, really tried, but no words would come out. he couldn’t think of anything to say.

apparently, that was fine with you. you relaxed in the silence, so he did too.

it’s not like he meant to, but he snuck a glance. he was so curious as to what you had been working on in that sketchbook of yours. he knew it had to be your prized possession, the way you carried it around everywhere.

sunghoon certainly wasn’t expecting to see his own face, beautifully drawn. it was him from a few weeks ago, last week, and yesterday. he remembers the detective concept and outfits they adorned.

you… you sketched it all. all this time, you sketched him?

he’s truly speechless, and everyone knew it was hard to make the stoic sunghoon react.

“…are you friends with y/n?” he randomly asks one day after the club had closed for the day, completely out of the blue.

sunoo tilts his head, “we’ve talked. why?”

heeseung pops by, “did i hear hoon’s got a crush? who could have warmed the cold tsundere sunghoon’s heart?”

although he wants to roll his eyes, he simply looks away.

“y/n?” riki calls from where he’s playing catch with jake, “the one who doesn’t say anything and draws all day?”

“they could if they wanted to,” sunghoon remarks quietly. riki shrugs.

sunoo watches sunghoon with an inquisitive expression.

he’s never seen his friend act like that with the other guests before…

“it’s his birthday soon?” the words spill out of your mouth without even realizing it. you stopped, overhearing some girls sitting near you.

they eye you, and it registers in your head that they know you’re the one whom sunghoon often sits next to. you seem oh so close to him, and yet you don’t know his birthday? you feel embarrassed, making your way to your normal seat.

“hoon? yeah, his birthday is in three days,” sunoo nods. “why? are you planning something?”

you’re quick to shake your head, flustered. “nono, i was simply curious… thanks for letting me know.”

alright. you officially have three days to find sunghoon a gift.

it’s only then it hits you. you know close to nothing about sunghoon. other than the fact that he was a host, you barely knew his likes or dislikes. heck, you barely even spoke to him.

you’re doomed. all the other guests were probably going to get him extravagant gifts that were exactly to his liking.

you? you scrambled to find something that would come in three days. and you weren’t even sure if he would like it. at the least, he could regift it to someone else if he really hated it.

you clutch the small gift bag nervously behind you as you enter the host club.

usually, decorations would be set up for the members’ birthdays. however, sunghoon never wanted a big celebration so they would get him a simple birthday cake every year. at least, that’s what sunoo told you.

sunghoon wanted his birthday day to feel like any other ordinary day. you hoped you could stay true to that.

or…not.

the sight of said host rejecting someone’s gift to him is the first thing that greets you. your smile immediately falters.

he didn’t like gifts? your heart begins to race. crap, crap. what were you going to do? you couldn’t hide the gift—someone would find it. it was obviously who it was for, with the big fat words happy birthday printed all over the bag. plus your names written on it, addressed to sunghoon.

your eyes follow him to his usual seat, only for your heart to drop.

sunghoon looks around expectantly. almost like, he was… looking for someone (you). he does. almost immediately.

if you move, he’ll see the bag behind you. heart racing, you decide to charge ahead and approach him. you couldn’t face a rejection of the gift you spent hours trying to find, but you also didn’t want to leave him hanging.

you walk over nervously, doing your absolute best to hide the bag and appear unaffected. maybe he wouldn’t notice, right?

wrong. sunghoon was probably the most observant person on the earth. his eyes immediately fall to your suspicious hands.

it was over. his eyes flick back up to you with a questioning look in them.

you close your eyes briefly, internally falling to your knees. well, there was nothing else to do.

you nervously thrust out the bag towards him, hiding your face as you softly say,

“happy birthday, sunghoon.”

you hold your breath and wait embarrassingly for the painful rejection.

spoiler: it never comes.

“thank you.”

hearing his voice causes shivers to run down your spine. your eyes fly open. did he just…accept your gift? and more importantly, he spoke to you?!

he takes the bag and puts it aside on the table.

“are you not going to open it?”

he looks at your expectant expression before beginning to unwrap the gift.

“i thought maybe we could share,” you mumble.

sunghoon carefully opens the intricate wrapping to unveil the gift you ultimately decided on: a smooth, leather sketchbook with pencils.

“now we’re matching,” you whisper before pulling out your own.

“i… don’t know what to do with it.”

hearing his voice again still makes goosebumps appear on your arm. you stifle a laugh as you reach over to demonstrate.

the real sunghoon watches in awe as you begin roughly drawing something in his new sketchbook. when you retract your arm, he’s finally able to see what you did. it’s a beautiful drawing of a cake and the words, happy sunghoon day!

he glances up at you with wide eyes. you shrug and only look away. to your surprise, sunghoon determinedly picks up a pen and begins doodling as well.

soon enough, the first page is filled with random drawings, doodles, and most importantly, meaningful connections.

you both smile and silently laugh at each other’s drawings. sunghoon’s favorite is your drawing of a baby sunoo and his cake while your favorite is of sunghoon’s (rather awful, yet still recognizable) drawing of the seven hosts.

this is the first time you’ve felt like you truly communicated with sunghoon, even if it was through a paper and pen instead of words.

when the page is filled completely, you admire your collaboration work proudly.

“thank you, y/n.”

your heart warms. “o-of course,” you stammer. maybe you were slightly very internally freaking out that he addressed you by your name.

sunghoon must’ve seen your bashful expression because he reaches over to pat your head. nothing else had to be said, because in that moment, you felt all your feelings were conveyed.

park sunghoon was supposed to be the cold and tsundere type of host. yet around you, he felt vulnerable, like you brought out a different side of him.

as you sit across from him, sharing smiles, you wish this moment could last forever.

all you can think is that sunghoon’s soul is so pure and needs to be preserved, protected. you really hope you can be the one to forever do that.

previous episode. | next episode.

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181 notes · View notes

eoieopda · 2 years

Note

Jadie, are you taking Stray Kids Requests now?! Omg. OMG. Can we please have reader and Chan being super soft after a fight? I feel like he’s kind of intimidating (not on purpose) when he’s annoyed but then so sweet to make up for it 😍

the one where chan didn’t mean to yell

pairing: bang chan x reader type: drabble (angst, h/c) au: established relationship wc: 612 cw: argument (obviously) implied but not depicted; no gendered language used for reader. a/n: aaaah my first foray into skz writing 🤪 sorry to this man for being introduced mid-fight lmao.

Fuck.

Bang Chan knew it the second he raised his voice that he shouldn’t have. He never did — ever — and the reason for that was buried in the bewildered look in your eyes. Even more jarring than his sudden outburst was the speed at which your surprise began to drown in half-formed tears.

Your rapid blinking had barely kept the tide at bay.

Chan’s friends had told him before that he often looked angrier than he felt. Knowing this, he did his best to manage the optics; to keep you from interpreting his frustration as something more intense. He’d been successful at it for years — until he wasn’t.

There may have, at one point, been a reason for his becoming upset — but he’d already forgotten what that was. Whatever it might have been, it sure as shit wasn’t worth the way you’d looked at him.

Just as soon as he started, he’d cut himself off mid-sentence and reached out for you like he always did. This time, you didn’t reach back. Instead, you’d recoiled like his arm was a snake primed to bite. When you promptly turned and walked away, you’d left him standing alone with his outstretched hand still in the air.

Fuck.

Chan had spent the subsequent twenty minutes pacing with the excess of his sweatshirt sleeves balled up in his fists.

His gut instinct had been to follow you out of his office, to not let you walk away angry — he fought it. You were more than entitled to space after being spoken to in that tone. So, that’s what he gave you — until he couldn’t stop himself from trying to make it right.

When Chan entered the bedroom, you were sitting cross-legged on your side of the bed with your back to the door. You didn’t acknowledge his presence when he crossed over to you, or when he slipped into the space behind you on the mattress. Radio silence, save for your barely-audible sniffling.

Shit.

“Baby,” Chan called out to you softly.

No response.

Shit.

He scooted closer, slowly, as if he’d spook you otherwise. You didn’t move away — a good sign — so he reached out and let his thumb graze gently over the exposed skin of your forearm. There was the tiniest shift in your posture; a microscopic slump of your shoulders. An ounce of tension dissipated.

Progress.

Chan repeated himself, “Baby?”

Then he punctuated his plea by placing a soft, experimental kiss on your shoulder. You sniffled, relaxed the tiniest bit more.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to shout at you, but I did and you didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a quiet, shaky exhale as if you were about to speak, but you said nothing. You did, however, accept his arms as they wrapped around you. Even better, you leaned back into his chest as he guided you into the space between his legs.

Chan kissed the top of your head and hoped you felt how much he loved you. In the event that you didn’t, he said as much, holding you even tighter: “You are my favorite part of every day. I’m sorry that I’ve done such a shit job of expressing that. I love you, completely.”

You remained quiet for a few moments. In that time, your closeness was enough for him; you didn’t owe him one goddamn thing. But you breathed in deep enough for him to feel it too, and then you said it:

“I love you completely, too… dingus.”

Stunned silence immediately gave way to breathless laughter. And when his mirth got too heavy to shoulder, you joined him in crashing sideways and smiling into the pillows.

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lightlycareless · 5 months

Note

I keep thinking of naoya making a fool of himself around y/n and y/n just being confused (idk) like he tries to get her to like him but it doesn’t turn out well😭 , idk if that made sense sorry!!😔

Hello!!

Awww this was really sweet to think about, however I got confused in the end and made it somewhat of a happy ending lmao.

Well, I still hope you like it!! (If anyone wants angst tho, I do recommend reading my valentine's day special. But I too been wanting to write something heart clenching for a while, might get onto it....)

warnings: highschool au. naoya likes you but he doesn't know how to approach you. he is ridiculous.

Happy reading!!

A silly Naoya is more like an overconfident Naoya, the type of guy that will never stop bragging about ANYTHING just to make you look his way.

It's certainly worse when he's barely starting to acknowledge his feelings, getting to that point where he finally says "I think I like her."

To stand out and get your attention is something Naoya never thought he'd need to do, simply believing that his title as heir of the Zen'in and his outstanding achievements as sorcerer would've done the trick—but they didn't, and now, he had to put in the work.

Thus, the borderline ridiculous demonstrations of his persona, courtesy of Ranta's advice; though if it’s worth anything, this is not what he envisioned.

"Can you believe he didn't want to accept my assignment only because I didn't hand it over in a folder? That's so stupid, can't wait to get him fired as soon as I—"

"Wait, Naoya, Y/N's coming!"

"ANYWAYS I WENT TO THE MALL THE OTHER DAY TO THIS LUXURIOUS STORE AND BOUGHT JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING THERE AND STILL HAD MONEY TO SPARE, GEE WHY IS EVERYTHING SO CHEAP NOWADAYS??? AND PEOPLE STILL COMPLAIN ABOUT THE ECONOMY!! I JUST WISH I HAD SOMEONE TO SHARE ALL MY MONEY WITH—did she look??? Did she turn around to see me??"

Ranta sighs.

"No."

"Ughghhhhhhh what do I need to do to make her see me?!"

Though frustrated, he does not give up.

"—yeah, I think we're going to this super expensive resort for the weekend. I personally preferred to travel out of the country, but you know how my father is, lazy as always. If it were up to that old man we’d never leave the—and now??? Did that work?? Is she looking??"

But the results are the same.

Naoya would keep on trying, loudly proclaiming things that in his mind would eventually earn him your interest, or at least a simple glance….

Until he, eventually of course, tires himself out. Sorrowfully finding that his endeavors had been nothing but fruitless as you continue living your own life, without Naoya in your consideration.

You’re slowly becoming someone unreachable to his grasp, and while he doesn’t plan on giving up just yet, he does intend to take a break, maybe reconsider his possibilities… before coming to a conclusion where you might not be involved anymore.

And what better way to clear his mind than indulging in one of his favorite activities—secluding himself at the rooftop of the school building to read the newest release of his favorite manga.

Unaware that someone else might be there, coincidentally… the person he wished nothing more than to be with.

"What are you reading?" You'd ask upon noticing the intense stare of the young, somewhat handsome man, he’s giving his magazine.

"Do you mind? I'm bus—o-oh!" He freezes upon realizing it was the girl of his dreams talking to him, cheeks burning red as he closes the manga and looks away. “Don’t—Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on someone like that?!"

"Ah, sorry!" You chuckle, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't mean to startle you, it's just that you looked so concentrated, I couldn’t help but to be intrigued! Is your story really interesting?"

"...it is" Naoya murmurs, gaze returning to you—he almost glances away yet again at your closeness, but your beauty makes it almost impossible to do so. "It's the latest chapter, I waited a whole month to read it."

“A whole month…?” you repeat. “Wow.”

“Yeah, it was a long time—"

“Hmmm, not quite.” You teased. “I’ve waited years just to see the continuation of my favorite series! Talk about dedication.”

“Huh, well, I don’t think it’s the same—this felt worse because of how good it is.”

“Really? I don’t know, I can’t believe you—I have to see what you’re reading for that. You grin, he smirks.

“Is that so? Then don’t let me stop you from finding the truth.”

And Naoya happily obliges, both excited to share one of the things he enjoys the most with the person he adores most, as well as the fact that you’re finally setting your eyes on him! After all this time!

He considered it to be incredibly unexpected, and perhaps a bit silly how it came to be, unable to believe that it took so little to impress you.

But as soppy as it sounds, there is truth in admitting that there is no better way to get someone to like you, than by being yourself.

omg that was so fluffy agkjasjghasjkghjsa cheesy too ahahahahah damn I surprised myself for sure!!

Rest assured, you heard Naoya do all of those things and consistently thought "Is he ok? Why is he yelling?"

After the two begin to date you'll tell him how weird it was of him to do all that hahahah though... "You didn't have to do that, I already liked you." Naoya feels even sillier :^)

Anyways, I hope you liked it!! I'm sorry this didn't end up in a sad note, I read the request very quickly and ended up understanding you only wanted an interpretation of Naoya being silly—though I do want to write something sad between the two, him messing up and all that. Luckily, I have the perfect excuse for that through other asks hehehehehe

Thank you so much for sending in this ask and for your patience!! Take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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lewkwoodnco · 3 months

Text

the tortured poets department - george karim x reader

George stiffened and shut his eyes regretfully as if he couldn’t bear to see that look on her face. A faint flush started creeping up his throat, peeking out from behind his starchy collar. “Don’t,” he whispered.

“Tell me,” she pressed, taking yet another step closer until their noses were barely an inch apart, “who else is going to know me? Truly know me?”

He let go of the breath he was holding and it fluttered across her cheek like the ghost of a kiss. They were venturing into intolerably intimate territory, and she could feel her pulse racing under the distracted brush of his thumb on her wrist.

a/n - HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH thats it thats the a/n also happy birthday to ali hadji-hesmati ia m NOT late shut up

tropes/warnings - slight nsfw towards the end (idk tho??), angst (what else is new lmao), tw slight mention of suicide, ft locklyle wedding (a bit) happy ending tho, i am very sick wrote this entirely on my phone and cannot be held accountable for any of this

word count - 3.7k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Who uses typewriters anyway?

That was what she had mouthed at her friend from across the Fittes office. They were brand new hires; scribes assigned to different researchers under an apprenticeship programme. Things were off to a rougher start than she had expected. From what she could see, her friend had been assigned to a perfectly normal-looking researcher who, now that introductions were complete, was explaining his filing system to her.

On the other hand, the first thing her oddly intense researcher had asked was if she knew how to use a typewriter. She had laughed, thinking it was a joke, before very quickly realising that he was being perfectly serious. He started explaining how the contraption worked far too quickly for her to catch anything, and she had taken the chance to shoot her friend a look.

“L/N?”

She whipped her head back around, immediately apologetic. “Sorry. I think I get how it works now.” Really, it was just bad luck that she had gotten the short end of the stick.

The next thing she learnt, over many months, was how to pick up on and decrypt George’s nonverbal cues. Namely, knowing what his every sigh, muttering or frown meant. While it had felt frustrating similar to banging her head against a wall in the beginning, he started to grow on her. Learning how George Karim ticked was like figuring out an intriguing puzzle all on her own. Besides, he wasn’t unkind. He could be understanding, so long as he had the patience for it on that particular day.

But there were times when she decided that no, he wasn’t all that compassionate of a coworker. Particularly on nights when he’d have her write up chapters worth of research summarised from his scrawled notes. And woe betide her should she make one too many mistakes.

Who the hell uses typewriters anyway?

"Do you ever think about leaving Fittes?"

Her typing stopped abruptly, her flickering train of thought completely demolished by George's appalling suggestion. They were sitting at their adjacent desks at the Fittes office, her typing up the previous night's case report while George twiddled his thumbs and fiddled with a pen in increasingly creative ways.

"Leave? And go where?"

She followed the line of his hateful stare towards one of the thick metal doors along the corridor which led to a more restricted part of the offices. Like most others, she felt no pressing inclination to snoop around and stumble upon information she would rather not find. But for someone like George, she could practically see how it gnawed at him - libraries of secrets just begging to be known.

Her gaze flitted anxiously between his face and the door. It was both a frightening and thrilling thing when George decided to put his mind to something, using his brain at its full capacity in some sincerely earnest hunt for knowledge. It was also the thing that was going to get him killed sooner or later, mesmerising as he was. It. Mesmerising as it was.

"Start our own agency. Play by our rules."

She laughed nervously, too artificial even for her own ears as she wrung her stiff hands. George's voice had a distant quality to it that told her he was on the way to making some very bad decisions if she didn't step in soon. "Oh, George, you say the…the darnedest things. You're no Tom Rotwell, you know."

"You're not Marissa Fittes yourself, either."

"Rude."

His gaze flickered to her at that, the barest hint of a smile ghosting his lips as the tension in his shoulders dissolved. She visibly relaxed as well, satisfied that it would be a decent while before he once again latched onto this bizarre notion.

Which was why his abrupt switch in employment to some small, crumbling agency had left her more than shell-shocked. Coming into work on a normal, gloomy Monday and seeing George's desk cleared out and painfully sterile of the ideas and theories he buzzed with left her feeling lost at sea in the worst way. And he didn't bother to reach out to her either - not a call, not a letter, not a visit.

That is, not a visit until he turned up at her door in the middle of the night, pale as the Visitors that skulked outside her door.

"Sorry.”

For one stupidly miraculous moment, she thought he might be apologising for a month’s worth of grey days and sleepless nights.

“I know it’s late, but I think I left my typewriter here."

She felt stupidly disappointed.

"You're making a mess of my - what are you doing?"

George had located his otherwise untouched typewriter positioned at one corner of her dining table and was now furiously typing away, a sickly, pallid sheen to his forehead.

"Don't worry, I'll be qui -"

"Karim."

His typing faltered, and for once he had the decency to look marginally embarrassed.

“Sit down. Start from the beginning.”

So he did. He told her everything about some Type Two case at 62 Sheen Road, short of coming out and saying that he had put his associates' lives in danger, but she could hear it in his voice. It was an almost welcome return to the old days of picking out the relevant parts while his mind ran ahead at the speed of light; so much to think and agonise over. When his voice finally started to run thin, she fetched him a cup of tea, taking a moment to process it all.

"Okay, so, if I have this right, none of this is your fault. No - don't argue with me. Drink your tea. You told him to wait, that you needed more time.“

He mumbled something incoherent as he pulled off his glasses, dragging a hand across his eyes, looking far too young and worn. He glanced up to meet her gaze, the look on his face as much of a wreck as the rest of him. He looked down again, staring at his hands splayed on her dining table. George never was one for letting his feelings show, let alone hysterics, and it rubbed at something raw to see him spiralling this badly.

“They’d be better off with a researcher who could actually do his job.”

She suppressed the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes.

“Oh, please, this has nothing to do with being altruistic. This is just you trying to punish yourself over something that isn’t even your fault.”

He showed no sign of having heard her. She sighed and slid into the seat next to his, her fingers nearly brushing his.

“Look - what's done is done. Possibly the worst thing you could do now is leave them in the lurch like this. Of course, it's not going to be smooth sailing throughout, but you made a commitment, so for the love of God keep your head up and stick it through.” She reached out to loosely cover his wrist. “Okay?”

George stayed silent but glanced up at her. Okay. She pulled her hand away. He finished the last of his tea and stood.

“I should get going, I suppose.”

She looked out the window, eyeing the eerie green glow of the ghost lamps critically. “It’s a bit late, don’t you think? Not very safe.”

“I have my rapier on me.”

The corners of her mouth tightened.

“I’d feel better if you left in the morning.”

And so they ended up in her living room, him sitting on the floor and her sitting on the couch, dragging her fingers through his soft curls. They talked about everything and nothing, like the recent layoffs at Rotwell’s and what George’s new associates were like. He made them sound marvellous. It was obvious why he’d leave Fittes. Why he’d leave her.

“The three of us…we live at 35 Portland Row.”

“Mhm.”

“And there’s this doughnut shop down the street from there.”

She lightly scraped his scalp teasingly.

“So that’s why you left.”

She could feel him smile despite himself.

“We should go, someday. You’d love it.”

A vision trickled into her imagination - she and George standing at the end of some empty cobblestoned road with soft, pillowy doughnuts dripping sugar down their knuckles, sprinkles melting into their fingerprints. It’s evening, and the sun is almost painfully intense, beating down a lovely glow over the scene. She’s distantly aware of the impending danger of the rapidly approaching nighttime, but for now, George is standing in front of her in a soft shirt, the edges of his face kind and blunt, the almost permanent furrow of his brow melted away in the liquid sun, reaching out to swipe a thumb at the corner of her mouth -

“Get some rest.” Her voice was thick with a longing for such golden yet treacherously illusory days. George leaned back, resting his head on the couch with half-lidded eyes, his breathing evening out as he drifted off. She gently slipped her fingers out of his hair. She gently pulled his glasses off but before she could put them someplace safe, she was out like a light herself.

She had a fitful sleep and blearily woke up a few hours later, George’s head an oddly comforting weight against her knee. She groggily pulled herself up and tossed a blanket at the figure slumped against her couch before fetching a glass of water and some paracetamol.

Shortly after, George lurched awake like he was sweating out a fever, heart thudding and eyes restless. He groaned, no doubt wincing at the pounding behind his eyes. He caught sight of the water and medicine placed next to him but looked away after a moment of consideration. She raised her eyebrows pointedly, knowing only too well the kind of hell his overactive mind was capable of putting him through.

“How’s your head?”

She hadn’t meant to sound that sarcastic, but it was enough for him to get the hint. He relented, taking a sip of water and then one of the pills just for good measure.

"Good. Now go home and get some proper rest, you moron."

She watched him stumble down the road till he turned the corner, trying to hide how shaken she was by his panic. She sighed wearily. Only a month at Lockwood & Co. and already he would be a desperate wreck without them. She turned back inside, trying to ignore how empty her dining table looked without his typewriter and how vacant she felt without that flimsy excuse for him to see her again.

Years passed. She and George somewhat kept in touch, but it had still been extremely startling when Lockwood & Co. reached out to her with plans to expose her employer, Marissa Fittes. Amongst the tragedy of Portland Row being reduced to rubble, Kipps nearly dying and the Skull almost moving on, unemployment was the least of her concerns.

Still, it wasn’t all sad once Lucy had proposed to Lockwood after one too many failed attempts by the latter party. They had planned a relatively intimate affair, only inviting some old friends of the ex-Fittes employees of the group.

They held it at an inexpensive banquet hall just a few minutes away from Portland Row. Lucy looked gorgeous and glowing with happiness under the gentle warm lighting, and Lockwood looked dashing in a suit not much more formal than his regular one. He spent the majority of the reception denying that he had teared up at the first glimpse of Lucy at the end of the aisle, insisting that his best man was a pathological liar.

After the main event, the guests milled around, having drinks, and occasionally congratulating the happy couple. As expected, Lockwood became very drunk very quickly, enough to pull out some terribly nonsensical yet oddly stirring comment.

“Here’s to the first day of the rest of our lives.”

She glanced across at George. He met her eye. They immediately looked away. She could have sworn she felt a hitch of some breath between them. She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. Lucy was desperately trying to shut up an overly emotional and hence overly talkative Lockwood who looked ready to launch into a speech no one asked for.

“That’s enough now, or we’ll have Kipps bawling all through dinner.”

It wasn’t exactly a sit-down dinner, though there was appropriate seating. Half of the guests were eating and the other half were having fun with some party games. She was watching Holly struggle at Twister when she felt someone slide into the seat next to hers - namely, the best man, George.

“Hey.”

She grinned, flushed from the champagne she had been sipping all evening. “Hey.”

“Having fun?”

“Lots.”

He couldn’t help but return her smile, looking a little tipsy himself. “I can tell.”

They ate in silence for a while, only the tinny sound of the radio’s strain and cheers from the party games filling the space between them.

“I think I missed you at the bouquet toss earlier.”

She nearly swallowed her spoon. He had noticed? He noticed her? She didn't know how to tell him that she couldn't see herself marrying anyone that wasn't him. How could she wake up every day knowing her better half was somewhere out there miles away, wondering if he wished for someone as moron-shaped as her?

“Oh, well, that’s not really my thing. More of a bridesmaid than a bride.”

She resumed eating, presuming that line of conversation to be over until she noticed he was still looking at her strangely, his cutlery stationary in his hands. Her chewing slowed in an attempt at dignity.

“…what?”

He lifted her right hand off her knife, making her heart thud dangerously. Wordlessly, he pulled off the sapphire ring on her middle finger and oh-so-delicately slid it onto her ring finger instead.

“I think you’d make a wonderful bride.”

She stared at the ring, speechless. It wasn’t a proposal, but it wasn’t nothing either. Maybe…maybe this was a second chance at something. Maybe he wouldn’t screw this up this time.

He almost reluctantly relinquished his grip on her hand. She didn’t dare meet his eye. Even his voice, quiet yet slightly rough, felt unbearable to hear.

“Were you mad? When I left without telling you?”

She had waited months to hear those words.

“I wished you'd talked to me about it first. Just...just to make sure your head was screwed on straight.”

He nodded, and they returned to their food, the silence a lot less giddily amicable now.

“So, would you have - “

“Absolutely not. God, no. I would have told you to stay ten feet away from Anthony Lockwood at all times.”

They looked over to where Lucy was helping Lockwood sit down, having unfortunately thrown his back out at Limbo. She winced. “He’s such a wild card.”

“I suppose I am too.”

She turned, curious, and he looked as though he regretted letting that slip out. Her voice dropped, taking on a softer edge.

“Not to me. Not when it’s you.”

He stared at her like there was something bloodied and hungry behind his eyes. She felt this twinge of something in her chest. Oh, how could she bear this? How could she bear him?

Sometimes, part of her wished she were a book - one completely enthralling and riveting, chock-full of secrets eager to slip out and lose themselves in thin air. Perhaps that was just a manifestation of her paralysing desire to be known and to be known by him.

“I should go,” George was saying as he finished up the last of his food. He stood, wiping his mouth, wandering off to find his coat. Maybe it was the liquor or the unfamiliar buzz of hope in the air tonight, but there was some odd tone of finality to his voice. She watched him leave, chewing her food thoughtfully, not feeling very hungry anymore.

As the minutes trickled by, it began to feel exhausting to be surrounded by so many happy couples, happy people, all that revolting joy and merriment. Only a short while after George had left, she located her own coat and weeded Lucy out of a throng of people doing the Macarena.

“I think I might head out now. Congratulations once again, Luce.”

“You too? Aww, thanks. Have you decided about the job offer from Madison?”

“I haven’t written back yet, but I think I’m going to turn them down. I was thinking about talking to Lockwood someday to see if he could take on one more employee. Plus, Madison’s a bit far out, and I’m pretty comfortable where I am.”

“Good. George might have just offed himself if it weren’t for his course at Edinburgh. I mean,” Lucy tripped over her words over the stunned look on her face, “I’m sure he was just kidding.”

“Hang on. Edinburgh?”

“Yeah. For his supervisor training. Did he not tell you? I thought for sure he…”

Lucy’s words muffled into oblivion and bled into some horrible ringing sound. Her mouth felt painfully dry. No. This couldn’t be happening.

“…he wanted to wait till after the wedding to tell Lockwood. Didn’t want to put a damper on things. Don’t get me wrong - I’m just as cut up about it, but…” They looked over to where Lockwood was watching the limbo game from afar with a forlorn expression. “…you know Lockwood.”

“What the hell, George.”

He jumped, freezing with his hand buried deep in his pocket, tediously hunting for his keys. She had managed to catch him at the front porch of Portland Row, looking especially guilty under the tepid glow of the ghost lamps.

“You’re training to become a supervisor?”

His face briefly twisted in annoyance. The audacity. “I told Lucy in confidence -“

“When were you going to tell me, Karim? Or were you just going to let me find out all on my own, like last time?” She wanted to laugh cruelly. There was nothing merciful about this knife in her chest. “I mean, why do this? Why lead me on and make me feel things and give me hope?”

“When have I ever led you on?”

“Then what was all that with my ring? Huh?” Tears sprang to her eyes once again, hot and shameful, stinging like a caustic disinfectant to an open wound. She felt so, so stupid.

“You said you didn’t care.”

“I did care!” she snapped. “Of course I fucking cared. I don’t think I could have stopped myself from caring, not when I know you like the back of my hand.”

“But you don’t care. No - tomorrow you’re going to board a train and move out of my reach and meet someone new to soothe the turmoil in your head and you won’t feel my heart bleeding for you. And if you’re very, very lucky, you might find some semblance of happiness -“

“I weigh you down!” The tirade died at her lips. Fury lined every shadow, every crevice of George’s face. He spat his words out with such venom, utter distaste. “I weigh you down…like a child. You pick me up when I fall down and kiss it better because that’s the kind of person you are. I can’t sentence you to a lifetime of running around trying to save me. I won’t do it. I’ll find someone else.”

A burden. He looked through her eyes and all he saw was a shrivelled excuse of a companion, dragging her into his depths of despair. She’d be lying if she said she never felt suffocated by his baggage. But there were some burdens you didn’t mind shouldering, not when you loved them so tenderly.

After all, who was going to unravel his every pause, stutter, sigh, and ache as she did?

“But who else is going to decode you like I do?”

“Tell me,” she pressed, taking yet another step closer until their noses were barely an inch apart, “who else is going to know me? Truly know me?”

There was a brooding, resigned look in his eye as if whatever he had been running from had finally caught up to him. He bowed his head and their foreheads touched. Her arms nervously reached around his neck, his hands on her waist steadying her as if to keep their balance on whatever strand of peace the moment had proffered them.

Her lips hovered over his shoulder, clavicle and jaw. She felt him reflexively tighten and loosen his grip, restless fingers fiddling with the folds of her dress and how they wrapped around her body. She brushed against the shell of his ear and felt a shiver run up his spine.

“Who else is going to hold you…like me?”

He turned a fraction and she briefly registered the lack of hesitation in his dark eyes before he finally closed the last of the gap between them. He pressed his lips to hers, soft yet intentional. He tasted like champagne and smoke and promises long-forgotten yet unbroken. It was a dizzying sort of relief to feel that years-old desperate want coiled inside finally melt through arms and fingertips buzzing with curiosity.

After that first touch, it felt as though they couldn’t get close enough, let alone pull themselves apart and have the brisk evening air rush in and nip at sensitive skin. She heard the doorknob rattle as George fumbled with it. After a short struggle, they stumbled into a nearly pitch-dark Portland Row, urgently shucking off each other’s coats and scarves. Her mind was running a mile a minute, her scalp tingling with electricity; white noise over the scrape of his teeth against her skittering pulse.

Her thoughts fragmented. At Fittes. In his room. In her apartment. His typewriter sitting glossy, polished, untouched, maddening -

George Karim was the most affected prick she had the misfortune of knowing. It was bad, bad luck that she was so irrevocably tied to him.

TAGLIST: @cielooci @mohinithoughts @neewtmas @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ahead-fullofdreams @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @mischivana @mitskiswift99

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #george karim x reader #george karim imagine #george karim

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mixvyu · 11 months

Text

Parfum d’étoile - episode fourty-one

scaramouche x reader smau

previous | masterlist | next

You weren’t late this time.

You were in front of your door gripping the fabric of your clothes in one hand and holding your phone in the other, waiting for him to text.

You turned your phone off then right back on to check the time.

3:32pm

Scaramouche’s classes ended at 3 and he texted you to let you know he’d stop by his dorm room to change but he was awfully long.

You started to think he might’ve stood you up and that you looked utterly stupid standing there.

As you started thinking that, he suddenly texted.

You could only see so much of the text on the notification that was displayed on your screen but you could read the words

‘Sorry, lots of things happened so I’m not…’

Your stomach dropped and you didn’t even want to read the rest of the text message but you were way too curious to not do so.

‘Sorry lots of things happened so i’m not gonna be able to pick u up rn but i’ll be there in less than 20 i swear’

You sighed in relief and your thumbs flew over your keyboard to text back.

´Dpn’t start a rext like tjat beo u scaref me… its finr tho i was gonba be late 2 neways.´

That was a lie.

´Good i feel less bad now’

He added a crying emoji at the end of his sentence, something out of character for him. You couldn’t tell if it was supposed to express relief or if he was making fun of you.

The cold air made your fingers shaky and it made it hard to type correctly but he didn’t seem to pay any mind to that.

You’ve been standing outside for almost 40 minutes now. The weather was awful and it even looked like rain would start pouring at any moment now. You felt like moving from your spot would be like giving up on him like standing in lines for something you’ve been waiting for all week and then chickening out and leaving your spot out of weakness but you got tired of standing there and sent him a text before even thinking about it.

‘Hey uh i’m not feeling that good laybe we should cancel ?’

You regretted it as soon as you sent it but he already read it so it was too late to unsend

‘? Are you sure??

You closed your phone as soon as you saw his reply, not wanting to answer or to face what you did but you realised he would see the read sign and that there was no getting out of this one.

‘Nvm i can manage haha!! I just need to take a pill i’ll be good’

You lied again.

Scaramouche replied almost immediately.

‘If you’re not feeling well we can do that another day i wouldn’t want to force you’

You clenched your jaw. You never understood his mood swing, how he could clown you one second then be the most caring person you’ve met the next it was almost annoying.

‘It’s okay!! I’m already ready anyways i wouldn’t want to waste a good outfit lmao’

Now it was your turn to use a crying emoji, still not sure of what it was supposed to express.

‘Ok :(‘

You chuckled at the frowny face. That too was out of character.

After ten minutes, there were still no sight of him.

You felt like every person that walked passed knew what situation you were in and were just pitying you and god it made you feel like shit.

Maybe waiting at home would’ve been smarter.

Just as you thought that a car you recognised pulled up.

You got up abruptly, opened the door in one swift movement and threw yourself on the passager seat without even looking at who was inside the vehicle.

You let yourself sink into the seat, sighing happily as the warm air hit your skin. And just as you thought you couldn’t get more comfortable you heard his voice

"Hey, so sorry i’m late i hope you didn’t have to wait for too long." Scaramouche said

You finally looked at him for the first time today

He was wearing black baggy pants but you couldn’t tell which top he decided to put on because of the coat covering it.

"It’s fine don’t worry. ‘Was just a bit cold."

"I have a jacket in the back, do you want to borrow it ?"

"Yeah i’d love to!"

He reached for the back seat without looking and pulled out a white jacket.

He handed it to you without a word and put his hand back on the steering wheel when you took it from his hands.

You put it on quickly and felt a tad bit disappointed when you recognise Kazuha’s signature cologne on it.

It wasn’t Scaramouche’s.

" So ? Where are we going ?" He said, finally breaking the silence

"Uhmm I’m not sure anymore… Do you want to go to the aquarium ?"

"Uh sure if that’s what you want"

"You don’t really seem enthusiastic."

"Fishes aren’t my thing to be honest, but if they’re yours…"

"What’s your thing then ?"

"I don’t know."

You let out a long sigh

"You’re not helping me ! Just pick a place and we’ll go !"

"You were the one that was supposed to plan it ! Why do I have to choose ?!"

God you forgot how annoying he could be.

"Ok, ok. What about the zoo ?"

"It’s like an hour drive, though…"

"The arcade ??"

"I don’t have any coins."

"The museum ?"

"It’s a bit boring isn’t it ?"

"Ok just kill yourself." You let out a sound that could only be described as a growl "where do you want to go ?"

"Anywhere is fine" he stopped the car engine realising that decided where to go was going to take longer than intended

"Anywhere is not fine ! You don’t like any of my suggestions."

"I mean, yeah they suck but if you want to go then we’ll go. Everything is fine if you’re here."

"Don’t try to romance me, asshole ! My suggestions are great !"

"I already went to all those places a thousand times so it’s not really interesting frankly."

You mumbled an almost inaudible ‘sorry rich boy’ before sighing for the thousandth time

"What about that library/coffee shop at the mall ? They opened like a week ago."

He turned to look at you so fast you thought he’d snap his neck

"They’re open?! Why didn’t you tell me that before ?! Let’s go !" He said restarting the car.

★

You took a seat at one of the few tables that were in place at the back of the library.

You hoped to use that face to face moment to talk to Scaramouche more before having to tell him that you like him even thought you don’t know him as much as you wish you did.

But that hope quickly died down when you saw that he did everything but stay in place.

He seemed to love books more than anything because he was going from aisle to aisle grabbing some of them so that he could read the back and either putting them back where they belong or nesting them under his arm.

After 20 minutes of that he sat down in front of you, pushed his cup aside and put down the 7 books he had picked up.

Some were novels, some were mangas, some were comics. The genre also seemed to be very different from one book to another.

"I’m so happy they restocked, i’m going to read all of them as fast as possible." He said, taking a sip of his coffee and making a funny face when he realised it was now lukewarm.

"So… you like books, eh ?" You laughed, not finding anything else to say to start a conversation

"Yeah, books are great."

"What’s your favourite ?"

He leaned even more into the backrest of his chair

"Uhm… if i had to say one it would probably be…"

He clicked his tongue not really knowing what to answer

"Oh ! The house of leaves is a super cool one ! I love it !" He exclaimed in a ‘obviously why didn’t i think of that one before’ voice.

"Oh really ? I never heard of it i should check it out."

"What’s your favourite ?"

"Uhm… I don’t really know"

He nodded.

If the entirety of the date was going to be this way, it was going to feel painfully awkward.

★

The walk back to the car was awkward as well even after the many attempts that both of you had at making conversation.

Scaramouche looked as good as ever even though he still didn’t discard of his coat and you were dying to see what was underneath and what kind of outfit he managed to pull together this time.

While in the parking lot, you noticed a few people staring at him and it almost made you feel proud.

"You feeling ok ?" He asked as soon as the car doors closed " you shouldn’t have forced yourself to come if you were feeling bad."

"I’m fine. It’s fine." You sighed "i’m fine."

"The more you say it the less i believe you." He laid his palm against your forehead "well, you don’t feel hot so that’s great." His hand traveled from your forehead to your cheek.

´If you keeps touching you like that, I might start feeling hot.´ you thought but didn’t dare to say out loud.

He looked at your eyes then your lips then your eyes again and you hoped to God he’d just kiss you but instead he took his hand off your face and rested his head back into the car seat headrest.

"So ? Where are we going next ?"

"Uhm…" you checked the time. It was already pushing 8pm "we could go eat."

"Sure that’s fine by me. Where ?"

"I’ll let you pick" you said trying to sound gentlemanly but knowing it was only because you had no idea what to pick and judging by his face, you didn’t fool him.

"We could go to a japanese restaurant."

"Don’t you already eat japanese at home ? It’s a bit boring for you isn’t it ?"

"It’s fine i haven’t had it in a while and i miss it. I’m doing this for me mostly."

You knew he was lying.

"I saw some leftovers when i went over, though ? If you want me to try it just say so." You teased

All he did was hum before starting the car engine."

★

Unlike what you expected, you weren’t face to face with him but instead sitting next to each other at a sushi bar.

"I haven’t had sushi in forever." You clapped your hands, excited for the huge free meal you were about to get.

"I could eat those forever, i’ll never get tired."

You downed the 4 makis you grabbed on the moving tray as soon as they were in front of you.

Before you could even grab something else, a green plate of three tempura was gently placed on top of the plate you just cleaned.

"Are you trying to shut me up ?"

"How’d you guess ?" He smirked half jokingly. "Try those next"

"If you insist !"

You took a bite out of it but before you could have a second one you suddenly felt like somebody was looking at you.

"What ? Were you planning on eating those or something ?" You didn’t have to stare back at him to know that it was his eyes that were gazing at you.

"No, no."

You took a second bite but almost choked when you felt his cold palm on your cheek.

You pulled away startled and uncomfortable by the sudden cold.

"What’s your deal, dude ?" You said, feeling your face heating up.

"Just checkin’ to see if you felt less warm than earlier."

"You said I didn’t feel warm at all earlier."

He looked away staring down at the plate of sushi he helped himself to previously

"Checking to see if it feel warmer then, i guess."

"God, you’ll be the death of me one day."

★

"You should take me out more often."

"Just so you can use me and drain my finances ? No way, i’m never doing this again."

You were leaning against the car, trying your best not to cough as the smoke from the cigarette Scaramouche lit made it’s way through your nostrils.

He seemed to noticed, telling you at least five time that if the smell was bothering you, he could open up the car and you could enjoy all the clean air you wanted but you so desperately wanted to stay close to him.

"Do you smoke a lot ?"

Scaramouche brought the cigarette to his lips, nestling it between them before inhale deeply. He brought it back to his side before releasing the breath he was holding, creating a cloud of fog in front of him.

He took so long to answer you thought he didn’t hear

"Not really. Tonight’s just a great night for a smoke." He finally said.

"How so ?"

He turned and glanced at you before looking up to the sky.

"The sun is setting, the sky is a mix of purple and orange, we’re in an empty parking lot talking about trivial stuff, it’s a friday night. It’s great for a smoke."

You giggled "When did you become so poetic ?"

He sat down, back against the driver’s side door and you did the same.

He put his cigarette out on the floor and rested his head on your shoulder.

"Are you tired ?" You asked, trying to stop your voice from cracking

"Yeah. Just a bit. Do you want to go anywhere else ?"

"No, not today."

Silence installed itself, a non awkward one this time. Only the sound of the wind let itself be heard and the few screams and giggles from the skatepark not too far.

"I love you, kuni."

He straightened up instantly

"What ?"

"I think I do ? Have feelings for you, I mean. I’m pretty certain."

"Wait… Huh ??"

You got up before he could even make sense of the situation

"Today was nice. I live not too far so i’ll walk. Thank you for driving me around." If you had the guts you would’ve kissed his forehead

You fled before he even had the chance to speak.

Extras !

• car seat headrest reference

• "erm i don’t like sushi 🤓☝️" WELL TOO BAD 👎👎

★彡Taglist! [open]

@gekkow-deactivated20230703 @aemiko @veekoko @kichiyoshi @scaramouchelover4ever @sukunasrealgf @lxkeeeee @kunisblog @yukiipc @brfrtbrt @simpforsubmissivemen @featuredtofu @fanfictionenthusiast @beriiov @lyzisbitchingagain @bluebelony @ryomiye @reinoodle @bananasquash @mikukksks @sakiimeo @kitanablades @pennyluvr @sakurapeach @crystalsguitar @feiherp @deluluangell @gracefulace200 @apinu @elernity @st4romii @cayl33n @ahseya @yelleloww @prettiestgirlxoxo @yoichiislovie @silly-ez @helix-frscr @morima2137 @boxedbest @serossidechick @yuraasia @xirthia @anastaxiah @angeilix @gyuhairclips @mikalei @yuuichilover @kacelah @sketcheeee @beebotea @keqing15 @yourmotherslover420 @m00mie-m00 @kyon-cherri @jkcryzzlis @im-inlovewithy0u @milceslv @certaindreampost @meowmeowmau @nnasv

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin smau #★彡 parfum d’étoile #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi smau #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer #wanderer smau #wanderer x reader

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sunnysoulzz · 10 months

Note

I need some Rodrick x ftm reader if you can!! Mbe some smut? I'll take anything no one makes ftm reader stuff with Rodrick :(

I’ll try my best 🫶🫶 I’m not an expert so I’m very sorry if I get stuff wrong :’(

Rodrick x ftm!reader

Contains: reader in diff stages of transitioning, smut, lmk what I missed lol, also not proofread

Smut under the cut!

Idc what anyone says, HES SUPPORTIVE ASF. He’s punk asf bro, he fell in love with YOU, so he really doesn’t care how you present yourself. (Also he’s SO bi, he fell in love with you before you started transitioning AND after you started transitioning, like bro fell in love twice)

If you started dating him before you transitioned he’d gladly accept you, though he’d probably use the wrong pronouns at first. Plz slap him, he feels really bad abt it :(

If you started dating after you transitioned he’d probably be taken aback, but still absolutely adores you, it doesn’t change anything for him.

100% let’s you wear his clothes, he’d probably just hand you his shirt when you are hanging out at his house because he’s awkward but lovesss seeing you wear them.

He’d help cut your hair (it probably ended up uneven but yk-)

Definitely calls you handsome when he’s flirty, he’s so the type to lean in the door frame and just say “hey handsome”

If your family wasn’t supportive he would help you sneak out 🙏

I can imagine you helping him put on makeup, because you had the experience from before you realised you were trans, and plus he likes it when you do it.

Before you had surgery he’d 100% eat you out while calling you a pretty boy. And after you got bottom surgery he’d call you a pretty boy while sucking ur dick lol

He’s so touchy, he’s always trying to get his hands on you so when you got top surgery he was a lil sad because that meant he couldn’t touch ur nipples for a while :( but once it was healed he would definitely touch them non stop LMAO

You guys probably tried anal even before you got bottom surgery, he wanted to experiment yk and was just like “well once/if you get bottom surgery, that means we are gonna switch to anal right? So why not try it now?”

If you don’t feel like having penetrative sex because you just don’t like your body atm, he’ll gladly fuck your face instead :)

—

pretty sure this is my first time publishing a male!reader FIC? I can’t remember 💀 but! Definitely first time I’ve written for a trans reader :) I hope this works, sorry it’s short I didn’t know what to add 😭

#rodrick heffley smut #devon bostick #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick x reader #rodrick smut

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phntmeii · 1 year

Note

If you write for e42 miles could you write some hcs for him

♡ Dating Earth-42 Miles Morales Headcanons:

❝ I'm Miles Morales. But you... you can call me the Prowler. ❝

[SFW + Fem Terms Used]

A/N: That accent went crazy for the movie ngl. I’m so hyped for more of him ahhsidjs. Sorry for this one being a tad shorter just because we didn't get to see enough of this ver. of Miles </3 Also, requests are open ofc :) ty anon!!

🕸️ This version of Miles is much more serious about his work and how busy he can be. He didn’t think he had time to look for someone.

🕸️ Then, there was you. Miles couldn’t take his eyes off of you, just watching as you passed by. He’s having an internal conflict because he doesn’t want to invest himself in someone just to lose them but he can’t stop thinking about you.

🕸️ So he ends up defaulting to just watching you from afar for a while to try and learn what's special about you. And with each day, that feeling grows until he just one day does it and talks to you.

🕸️ He's confident but quiet. A lot of his sentences are short and to the point. He looks down at you as you talk, keeping his eyes on yours. He's giving his full attention to you.

🕸️ He also does the thing of having his hands in his pockets and leaning down to hear you better. He knows exactly what's he's doing.

🕸️"Shit... desculpa, ma... didn't hear you. Say it again for me?"

🕸️ I think this version of Miles would be the least obvious with his feelings at first. Half the time you can't tell if he's actually into you or not because he seems disinterested most of the time but when he's in his room, he's sat listening to love songs and picturing different scenarios with you.

🕸️ His mother taught him right so when he does ask you out, it's not a casual text of "will you be my girlfriend" or something basic like that. He's taking you out at night to somewhere with a nice view where he has your favorite flowers, then he asks.

🕸️ He isn't too big into PDA. Not because he doesn't love giving you his attention but because Miles is a very chill and settled guy in public.

🕸️ Most of his "PDA" are small things like hand holding and whispering romantic things into your ear.

🕸️ Yes, many of his pet names and flirty comments will be in Spanish just because he knows you like it. He usually defaults to "mami" or "mamas" when talking to you.

🕸️ Once he's more comfortable, he likes to be a tease because he knows it sets you off especially if you're busy. He'll just open up your window and sneak in while you're doing your work just to feel you.

🕸️ He'll have a dumb grin as you smack him away, putting his hands up in surrender. "Ay, lo siento, mami... Didn't know my girl was so focused."

🕸️ There are some times where he just sweeps you away from your work any way because he wants to spend time with you. He'll never admit to being clingy despite doing that.

🕸️ Definitely the type to do shit just to try and piss you off cause he thinks he’s funny. He’ll rest his arm on top of your head, make jokes when he sees you’re annoyed and act like he’s the one wearing the pants in the relationship to friends when in reality, he’s all too obsessed with you and treats you like royalty.

🕸️ In public, acting like the man, meanwhile in private, he’s all “yes ma’am omw o7”. LMAO

🕸️ Miles can instantly tell when you're in a bad mood. A slight change in the way you text and he's already thinking about how to fix it.

🕸️ "good morning mamas 💜" "morning" "tf is 'morning'?? nah, start over." "what?" "my girl not starting the day like this. im coming over."

🕸️ Miles' main Love Languages are: Quality Time and Words of Affirmation.

🕸️ Miles needs to be around you which is why he'll sneak off to see you. It doesn't matter if you're busy with something, he'll just watch you and keep you company as you do it. (Although, he might try and distract you.)

🕸️ He’ll let you do his skincare or do his hair (if you know how) but he’ll likely complain the whole time even if there’s no reason to.

🕸️ Like he’ll complain about not being able to touch his face when he has a face mask on or that you’re being too rough when doing his hair even though he loves when you do this for him (He’s being dramatic.)

🕸️ “Ay- Shit! You havta fuckin’ pull that hard?” “You want your braids to look good or not?” “I want to have hair by the end of this.” *proceed to smack the side of his head with a brush*

🕸️ He’s definitely a flirty guy. He’ll text you suggestive messages when he knows you’re in public or at a family event just to mess with you. He’ll also send super romantic paragraphs to you over text when he knows you’re asleep.

🕸️ There is no insecurities allowed about yourself when you’re with Miles. The moment he hears self doubt, he’s showering you with praise because his girl is perfect in his eyes. There is no one else but her.

🕸️ "baby. i feel ugly today" "ugly?? tf are u on?" "i just feel idk like gross" "mami don't start allat. u know ur too fucking gorgeous to think like that." He then sends several 1-3 min voice messages freaking out to you about how lucky he is so you know that it is impossible for you to be "ugly" in his eyes.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#atsv miles #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #atsv miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales headcanons #e42 miles #e42 miles morales #e42 miles morales x reader #e42 miles morales headcanons #atsv headcanons

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agaypanic · 1 year

Note

Stanley barber x reader where he’s very handsy and just can’t be away from reader for more then 5 minutes. doesn’t have to be smut maybe just a heated make out session or smth idk (sorry if this is to vague)

Handsy (Stanley Barber X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Stanley Barber just can’t get enough of his girlfriend.

A/N: this is pretty short and honestly not that good bc idk how to write steamy scenes lmao

***

It wasn’t unusual to find Stanley’s hands on you in some way. Even before you two started dating, you’d hold hands and be cuddly all the time. But now, there would also be kisses wherever he could reach, and an ass or boob grab every now and then. Of course, a lot of that would be saved for in private.

Sometimes, Stanley couldn’t help himself around you. It would get to the point where you were very thankful his dad was rarely home, and your parents didn’t seem to care about your whereabouts.

“Oh, Stanley.” You moaned as he sucked on your neck from his place beneath you. You don’t really know how you ended up like this. One minute you were writing an essay while your boyfriend danced around his room to his Bloodwitch record; the next, you were straddling him on his couch while he seemed to try to suck the life out of you. He groaned as you yanked him away from your neck by his curls and put your mouth on his.

“Baby, please.” He pleaded against your lips. He didn’t really know what he was asking for; he just knew he wanted more. He wanted whatever you were willing to give him.

“My paper’s due tomorrow.” You murmured. “I’ve barely even started it.” Yet you were doing nothing to stop this.

“Just five minutes, Baby, that’s all I need.” You smiled, pulling away despite his protests.

“You’re such a horndog.” With all your willpower, you slipped off his lap and ignored his pouting to go back to your paper.

“And you’re mean,” Stanley whined, moving your laptop to lay himself across your lap. Shaking your head, you rested the computer on his upper back, ignoring his hand that started rubbing your knee.

“Yes, I’m so evil, Stanny.” You laughed when he agreed and went back to writing. He was silent for a while, the only noise in the room being typing and Bloodwitch. When the record had finished, you let him get up to change it. He came back to stand before you, some obscure artist you didn’t recognize playing behind him.

“Y/n?” He sounded like a shy child, a stark contrast to how he sounded ten minutes ago.

“Yes, Stanley?” You asked, giving him a quick glance before looking back down at your computer.

“Can I…” He sighed, annoyed that you weren’t paying him any attention. “Can I just lay on your boobs?” That caught your attention.

“Huh?”

��No funny business, I promise. Please, Y/n.” You sighed. The look he gave you was so endearing you wouldn’t have guessed that he was asking to use your boobs as a pillow. You got up, moved to Stanley’s bed, set your computer to the side, and waited for him. He eagerly followed you, climbing on top of your body. You didn’t expect him to put his head under your shirt to rest his head on you, but you weren’t opposed to it.

You set the computer back on your boyfriend and resumed your promise. Every now and then, you take a pause to stroke your fingers along Stanley’s spine.

“Watcha doin’?” You asked as you started planning out your conclusion. You felt kisses against your chest, and it seemed like Stanley was losing his resolve to keep his promise of no funny business.

“Nothing.” He muttered before giving you a few more kisses. “Just focus on your paper.” You nodded, ready to do just that, when one of the hands that was wrapped around your torso slid down to your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze. You sighed, trying to ignore it. But the more you resisted him, the more intoxicating Stanley became.

You closed your laptop and put it on the floor beside the bed. Lifting your shirt enough to pull Stanley off of your chest, you flipped the two of you over so he was on his back. You pulled your shirt off and grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours.

“Five minutes.”

#stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #ianowt #i am not okay with this #agaypanic

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liasadventuretime · 2 years

Text

˗ˏˋyou jealous ? :) ´ˎ˗ - neteyam x reader pt. 7

⁀➷ part seven : RUN.

notes : so um hi y'all !! ik it's been two weeks but here i am beggin y'all to forgive me just like neteyam in this part LMAAOOO, anygays... here's pt. 7, it's a bit more long than the other parts so enjoy lmao.

word count : 7.5 k ( DAYUM ??)

warnings : so much smut ( mommy kink, begging, edging, p in v, tears, slapping, oral sex f, degradation, humiliation, public sex, two men in the same day LMAOO SORRY Y'ALL I HAD TO. ), beating, blood, slight cheating, and that's it ?

ao’nung didn’t waste a single minute, his fingers grazing your cheeks gracefully, lips attaching in the lightest softest kiss anyone has ever given you. your heart closed, lips parted, he kissed you again. something boiling in his stomach, feeling like heaven.

he has waited so much time, maybe too much for this moment. and he would wait all over again if everytime he kissed you it was going to be like this. he couldn’t even believe it. he was floating, he was still dumbfounded. you were kissing him, and no it wasn’t any fucking kiss.

it was a kiss without any type of lust, just genuine love. well, at least that’s what he thought. he would’ve paid gold to read your mind in that moment, and see what you were thinking or feeling. he has already kissed you a couple of times before, but none of those kisses has ever felt like this. his eyes closed, his hand on your jaw, your hand grabbing the back of his neck. your fingers could feel the goosebumps, making you smile against his lips.

the tip of his tongue separated your lips, almost as if he was asking for your consent. your tongues latched together, your salivas mixing. you tasted like berries, which made him remember all the times you tasted like this but didn’t notice. you loved fruit, he knew that though. his hand grazing up and down your back, feeling like a baby.

is this what it actually feels like to be in love ?

he’s the type of guy to say “you look beautiful tonight.” but you missed screaming, fighting and kissing in the rain.

but did you tho ? all you could feel now was the way he fatherly held you, and how he cared.

he gently moaned in your mouth, which made you smile against his lips once again, making him fluster and get a bit nervous. but he didn’t care, he trusted you. you could feel the sun kissing your skin. you felt all giggly and dreamy, almost like this was your first experience.

it was unexplainable. there were no words, no phrases, no anything to explain how you were feeling right now. this is all you have always wished for.

he slowly parted his lips away from yours, only for him to see your shiny eyes, so soft and delicate, looking at him like you were in middle school and the boy you loved just kissed you. he started trailing kisses from your mouth, to your cheek and to your jaw. he marked and bit everything he could, he could taste every single part of you.

and he just couldn’t get enough. his hands on your back, one on the back of your neck pushing you against him.

oh, fuck. from now on, getting over you is impossible.

you filled his ears with lustful moans, feeling a tear roll down your thighs. you were out in public, so to try and keep the moans for yourself, you bit your lip, and only a few seconds after you could already taste the metal on your tongue. your mind was completely fogged by the pleasure, eyes glossed with tears. oh fuck it.

“ao’nung, stop the teasing.” you whispered in his ear, a moan catching on immediately after. he could feel you nails abuse his shoulder, and oh how he loved it. maybe this would’ve lasted not more than an hour, but those marks ? well, those scars were going to be a part of him forever. he smiled.

“aw, but you like it sweetheart, don’t you ?” he replied back, raspiness veiling over his voice. this man was starved, famished almost. if you were going to dive in this ocean, he’s not going to accept anything that isn’t the bottom of the sea.

you arched your back against his body, trying to get some friction, and relieve some stress. he noticed, smirking against your neck.

“just fucking say it if you want it that bad.” he spat out, not even leaving you a second to formulate a phrase.

“please…” “please… what ?” “please ‘nung. please.”

he sighed. "i'ma need to be more specific. what do you want ?" he said, waiting for an answer.

"i want to cum, want you to make me feel good." you whined in hear, cheeks red from the confession.

he didn’t wait a second, immediately swimming to the beach. he walked, and laid you down on the hard floor, feeling the coldness of it.

someone could walk right there and see him between your legs, but he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. you couldn’t hold back the moan that had been bubbling in your throat for so long.

he harshly grabbed your thighs, placing them on his shoulders. nose and lips softly grazing the inside of your thigh, electricity flowing through your body, feeling the air hit your sensitive bud.

you could feel your face heating up, tears glossing your eyes.

you tried to squeeze your thighs together, get some friction, anything at this point, but you couldn’t. ao’nung holding your legs wide open, you mumbled out of frustration but he ignored you.

he blew some air on your puffy clit, he could feel your thighs tensing in his hands, but he could also feel your frustration building up and his dick getting more and more hard. he laughed and chuckled at all your reactions, but he loved how sensitive you were.

thinking of all the times he had to get himself off in his pod, when no one was around, because that day you just looked too pretty or you smiled too hard at him. maybe because you bent over, not realising the flesh of your ass was showing the sweet and supple curve of it. you were much more innocent than you’d like to admit.

you got distracted from your thoughts when you felt a slap, ao’nung directly hitting your core, a tear rolling down your cheek, a smirk on his face. your thighs shut, but you could feel ao’nung’s calloused hands running down your thighs, opening them for him.

your slick smearing all of your pussy, this is probably the wettest you’ve ever been. he enjoyed every sight he could get of you, your clit sensitive, your thighs trembling in his hands. he felt like in fucking heaven.

all he could hear was your moans, whimpers, squeals, demands. and he fucking loved it.

“’nung, please.” you cried, sniffing loudly. he looked up at you, face teary and mouth trembling.

if the devil could see you, he would kiss your eyes and repent.

“please… what ?” he asked, making fun of you once again.

you whined, not feeling a thing anymore. the teasing was too much, but to say you hated it was a lie. you just love not getting what you want, do you ?

“please, help me.” you said, not being able to say what you wanted, one time was more than enough. you were too shy, but it was a bit ridiculous, knowing that your legs are spread wide open and his face was between them.

“help you what ? use your words, ( y/n ), don’t act all dumb and embarrassed with me, you know what you want. ” he said, placing another slap on your sensitive aching core. you squealed, swearing you could feel actual pain. he immediately harshly opened your legs again, now getting annoyed, his eyebrows pinched together. “keep your fucking legs open, or else i’ll stop.”

your head tilted up eyes flashing wide, not wanting him to stop. “no, no please ! i’ll be good i promise !” you said, begging and riding your heat to his face, to get any type of contact. you started to squeeze around nothing.

he waited, placing a few kisses on your thighs and a soft kiss on your clit. you placed a hand on your mouth, you were literally sobbing from the pain, and how much you loved it.

“please, i want-” you sniffed, sobbing. “i want to cum.” you said, looking at him. that was it.

“good fucking girl.” he said, getting to work.

he softly wrapped his lips around your clit, his hands tightly wrapped around your ass, your mouth hanging in an ‘o’ shape. your hands wrapped their way on his scalp and braids. you loudly moaned, making him groan against your heat. he inserted a finger, you tugged his braids roughly, he swore he could feel his scalp bleeding. he slowly pumped in and out, eating you out like he was starved.

you pressed his head against your pussy, getting a huff out of him. his pace sped up, feeling your legs tense, knowing your climax was about to be there. he placed another finger in, lowering your stomach against his mouth with his hands.

it made you go crazy. you saw stars, eyes rolling back at his sudden move. he smiled against your core, knowing he hit the right spot. his fingers slowly dragging out of your entrance, he hugged your waist pressing himself over your aching core.

as you felt your climax approach, your moans started to get more and more loud. you were going to get in serious problems, but how could anyone blame you ?

the oloeyk’tan’s son is between your legs, eating you alive. one person, that was it. that’s all it would take for Tonowari to make you pack your bags and send you back to the forest. the thought ruined the moment, so you focused back on ao’nung, well it wasn’t like you couldn’t anyway.

he could feel your climax approaching as he saw you clenching and clenching. he could feel his jaw starting to cramp up, but he couldn’t stop and he couldn’t get enough of you. your scent, your taste, your sounds.

your orgasm hit you like a truck, being absolutely shocked by it. you rode out your high, ao’nung liking your juices off his lips, to then kiss you.

you placed a hand behind his neck, deepening the kiss. you moaned in his mouth, him placing you on his lap. you let out a gasp, feeling his erection about to rip his loincloth. he placed one last kiss on your lips, now the only thing connecting you was a string of saliva.

“did you like it ? was it okay ?” he asked, softly grazing your face. you cuddled in his hand, he could feel your face as hot as ever.

you nodded, feeling your eyes about to withdraw, tired. he placed your chin on his shoulder, your face resting in the crook of his neck. he softly cuddled you into sleep. but suddenly.

you felt something. almost like jake could feel every time lo’ak was doing something dumb.

someone had been watching you the whole time.

you softly opened your eyes, ao’nung’s hands still caressing your back with slow strokes. you felt goosebumps.

you looked around a bit, trying to understand if that was only a feeling or if someone had been watching you the entire time.

your eyes gazed through the pods, your heart stopping as soon as you could feel yourself drowning in his dark, angry eyes. you heart immediately sinked, your boned ignited. you saw his mental bomb ticking in his brain, his fists getting more and more tight, his knuckles as white as they could get. he felt his nails piercing his skin, leaving little moons.

neteyam.

you suddenly stood tall, a questioning expression on ao’nung’s face. he saw what you were looking at, and he had to admit hat he felt his heart skip a beat. neteyam walked furiously towards the two of you.

“neteyam, wait i can explain-” you tried to stop him.

ao’nung immediately stood up, not necessarily caring about neteyam catching him, but caring about how you got scared as soon as you saw him. all you could hear was his fist kissing his face. your hand immediately grasped around your mouth, eyes widened at the sight of the blood in front of you. neteyam on top of him, punch after punch. he was seeing red, and he was not going to stop. not now, not ever. he felt his heart thump loudly against his chest, hands holding ao’nung from doing anything.

he couldn’t hear anything, and you ask yourself what could have happened if no one stopped him. you tried to run and grab neteyam by the arm, only getting a death stare in return. you slowly walked back, not being able to say or do anything. you tried and seek for help. but there was no one near. neteyam was there just because tsireya told him that you and ao’nung went for a swim, and he knew exactly where y’all would’ve went. in the few seconds that ao’nung had, he flipped the situation now beating neteyam.

you swore you heard a bone break. your heart beat fast. you were panicking. breath short. fuck. you screamed. all you could do.

“LO’AK ! DAD !” you screamed and plead, feeling hot tears roll down your cheeks, your heart about to explode, because you knew this was all your fault.

it was getting bad, you could barely recognise neteyam’s face from all the blood. a pit deepening in your stomach.

almost a few seconds later, you saw jake running towards you with tonowari on his side. tonowari harshly grabbed ao’nung off of neteyam, him being held back by his dad.

“you better hide motherfucker ! if i find you i’ll skin you alive and keep you as a swimming suit.” he spat blood on the place, feeling angriness bubble in his stomach as ao’nung smiled. people were coming forward to see what was happening, some gasps leaving their mouths at the scene. you looked at him, his lip split open, his mouth bloody.

“yea, wear it ! ( y/n ) might even want to fuck you, if you’re lucky.” ao’nung spat at him. jake tried to hold him off all he could, as you felt some wandering eyes searching for you. fuck.

you were never ever going to fuck again. anyone. not a soul. you promised. you swore.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

neteyam and ao’nung got dragged by both of their dads to the healing pod, where they could get patched up and see if their bones were still intact. you didn’t follow them, you stayed by the sea. looking for an answer, that would’ve maybe gently hugged your feet the same way the water was. you had to deal with it. your actions just got two guys in the healing pod, getting all patched up. before talking with any of the two guys, you had to sort your feelings out. you lacked communication, that’s for sure.

you sighed, the sun setting down slowly, the sky was painted orange and pink.

on one side, there was ao’nung. you two had a little fling, that got out of control. now he’s probably head over heels for you, and you felt so much attraction towards him, but attraction had nothing to do with compatibility. you two were just different, and it would probably end badly, both of you getting hurt. but how could you know if you didn’t try ? he was nice, responsible, attractive… he just ticked all the boxes.

on the other side, there was neteyam. fighting, war, problems, you’ve been through it all, there was nothing left. you missed him always, comparing him to anyone who happened to be in front of you. you lost your virginity to him, just to get treated like a piece of meat. but neteyam wasn’t the only one at fault. were words the same as going ahead and getting eaten out by ao’nung ? did it solve anything ?

maybe he didn’t even mean it, or maybe you were trying to justify him. nonetheless, you had to talk it through. if you two weren’t some horny ass teenagers, y’all would’ve talked everything out that night, but oh well what happened, happened.

you got up, deciding to go see how they were doing since you were the reason they were there. walking through the pods, you noticed tuk and kiri playing in the sea with tsireya. you would’ve liked to go play with them, but you were too embarrassed. just knowing they knew everything made you feel like a slut. an ungrateful slut. ungrateful because even though you treated both of their brothers like shit, they never hesitated to lean over a shoulder to cry on, and a pair of ears to listen. your gaze turned down, deciding to ignore your feelings now, because they were much more important things to do.

you arrived at the pod, slowly opening the flap, to see who was inside. you noticed neteyam on the bed, getting patched up by alyara. you felt your heart throbbing, but you had no right to. that’s the least you should’ve expected.

ao’nung was seated on a chair, another random girl helping him with the medications. you noticed her leaning over to take all her stuff, packing to go away. your gaze met hers, and she lightly smiled at you. your stomach warmed up at her gesture, noticing how kind she was. you smiled back at her, letting her space to get out. Ronal saw you, calling you over to enter.

“oh, ( y/n ), come in !” she said, the tent getting silent, ao’nung looking back at you as you entered, neteyam not having the energy to. he was so tired, he wish he could just lay in your arms and fall asleep. but he unfortunately, couldn’t. he squeezed his eyes shut, not being able to get the image of you and oa’nung out of his mind.

the way you softly melted on him, the way he cared and caressed you. why weren’t you like that with him ?

after kiri got back to her brothers, neteyam asked what happened and why you were upset. kiri was astonished to say the least, almost disgusted, which only made him feel even more dumb. she told him everything, and he swore he felt his heart stopping. with just those words, he ruined everything he worked so hard for. he didn’t see you as a prize, he didn’t see you as an object or anything like that. he saw you as his mate.

his soulmate.

the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. he couldn’t get enough of you, ever.

you’re the only that his dick could get hard for.

and he just wanted to say it to you, cuddled between his arms, only for him to see and feel. that’s why he tried to look for you, after thinking about what he wanted to say. he didn’t see you anywhere, but he knew you had to go to a meeting with his dad. jake was already training with tonowari, so the meeting must’ve already ended. he saw tsireya and kiri playing and swimming with tuk, so he just asked them.

“she went swimming with ao’nung, i saw them earlier.” she said, a careless relaxed look on her face, but kiri already could see and feel neteyam’s organs starting to eat eachother. “oh. thank you…” he replied back, immediately running to your spot. and he arrived there, well…

he squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could, a painful grin appearing on his face. he wish ao’nung could’ve punched that memory out of him.

you walked in the pod, careful to not disturb anyone who was working.

“alyara, go take care of you brother, ( y/n ) will deal with neteyam.” ronal said. you flushed, realising she probably still don’t know exactly why ao’nung and neteyam fighted, well you imagine it must be embarrassing for ao’nung to know his mom knows he got into a fight because he was eating out, the breeze slapping your faces.

ao’nung hesitantly wished his mom would tell you to come patch HIM up, but he felt even more jealous that neteyam could get all peppered and taken care of by you. you walked towards neteyam’s seat, he didn’t even dare to look at you in the eyes, he didn’t have the courage. you noticed, but tried to act like you didn’t.

with all the herbs and creams ready, you looked for a chair around the room, but you couldn’t find any. you noticed neteyam started lightly angling his leg towards you, leaving an open spot on his thigh, but still not looking at you. you decided to not even think about, placing yourself on his thigh. you remembered that night you used his thigh for something a bit more different, and just could tell he was thinking about it too.

ao’nung couldn’t stop staring at the two of you. seated on his thigh, taking care of him. his fist tight, not being able to hold off his jealousy.

neteyam noticed you scooting a few times to not fall of his leg. he drove an arm behind your back, a hand on the side of your thigh, helping you not fall. he looked at you, meeting your gaze. you both smiled lightly at eachother, neteyam not being able to hold his smirk for himself.

you put some herbs on his shoulder, getting a hiss out of him.

“ow ! ow !” he complained, teeth gritted, eyes squeezed shut.

“if you weren’t such a skxwagn we wouldn’t be here.” you said jokingly, expecting a reply back. neteyam just chuckled, a sparkle in his eyes.

you massaged everything in place, noticing a few more cuts on his back, well other than the scars you gave him. you blushed at the sight of them, earning a little smirk from neteyam who noticed what you were looking at. his ears suddenly flattened against his head when he couldn’t feel you on his leg anymore.

you got up, having to apply the medication on his back. “turn around.” you said.

he didn’t hesitate, getting his hair out of the way. your held your breath for a second, getting caught off by his muscles.

everyone knew neteyam was an ass guy, but only he knew you preferred back over anything. seeing it all bloody and scarred flipped something in you, but decided to ignore it for now. you hesitantly palmed his back, stroking it slowly with the medication. he flexed a bit more, knowing this was going to push your buttons. you massaged everything, not being able to ignore the size of it.

his back was majestic. there was no other words to describe it.

neteyam relaxed in your hold, breathing deeply. he slowly closed his eyes, almost feeling like falling asleep. as soon as everything gets handled between you two, he was going to make you massage his back every single night after training.

he let out a soft moan, his eyes immediately flashing open, mouth pressing forming a thin line. you raised an eyebrow, looking for him, while he tried to not look at you. he was blushing so hard. you smirked and smacked his back. “you’re done.” you said.

“oh thank you ( y/n ) ! would you mind patching ao’nung’s hand before going ?” ronal said, flashing a smile at you. poor woman, working too hard, you felt too bad. you headed towards ao’nung, feeling neteyam’s eyes burning on your back. he was much more tense.

you got all you needed and took ao’nung hand in yours. you tried to act as stiff as you could, neteyam didn’t have to be so nervous because you had already made up your mind. you applied some herbs on ao’nung’s hand, getting a hiss out of him, as he squeezed your hand. you just noticed how much bigger it was than yours. you concentrated back on the patching.

you slowly and carefully wrapped his hand in some gauze, so none of his cuts could get infected. he saw your eyebrows pinched, concentrated.

he loved the way you were playing with his hand, but he could recognise that you were being a lot more distant than other times. you finished, smiling at him. “done.” you simply said. he patted your head, catching you off guard. “thank you.” he said.

if he wasn’t all patched up, neteyam would’ve ate up that guy again. the audacity.

“oh thank you ( y/n ) ! such a sweet woman you are.” ronal patted you on the back warmly, making your stomach flip at thought of her knowing what happened earlier.

ronal and ao’nung got all their stuff, reassuring you and neteyam that you could close the pod whenever you wanted to. you blushed and thanked her. neteyam was seated on the medical table. ao’nung couldn’t do anything but go with his mother, feeling jealousy boil in his blood.

the pod got quiet. not a single sound coming out of the two of you, only neteyam getting up to sit on the mattress instead. you slowly walked and sat near him. the tension was too heavy, so you decided to get your panem et circenses out, just like roman impearoars did.

you got a cigarette out of your pack, and lit it up. neteyam smirked at you, actually realising you two hadn’t met at the beach in a long time.

you passed it to him, which made you immediately regret it.

seeing neteyam all bloody, patched and smoking was going to be the death of you. and he knew it.

you passed the cigarette between you two, not a word being spoken. you’d have to cleanse the whole place later since it was important to keep this pod clean, but you didn’t mind as long as you could spend time together. you just enjoyed eachother’s company, not having to worry in trying to engage in small talk, y’all were already beyond that step.

as he took the last breath, he pressed the cigarette against the floor, he spoke.

“would you like to talk a bit ?” he said, a soothing tone and a pair of eyes looking for yours. you lightly smiled and nodded.

“you start.” you said, looking at him. he stayed quiet for a few seconds, almost trying to recollect his thoughts. he though about the whole discourse he had in mind, and was so excited to tell you. so he just let his thought flow out of his mouth, no restrains.

“i’m sorry.”

you raised an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on your face. you had no idea of what he was asking forgiveness for.

“for beating ao’nung ?” you suggested.

“fuck no.” he quickly said, jokingly pushing you. you laughed.

“i’m sorry for making you feel that way. you know, the whole object situation…” he said awkwardly. your mouth dropped in an ‘o’ shape realising what he was talking about. the pod got quiet for a second, but he continued.

“i just want you to know, that i’ve never saw you, i don’t see you, and will never see you as an object. i’m not joking. you’re special ( y/n ). seriously. i feel disgusting thinking about how i treated you and made you feel.” he slowly grabbed your hand, catching your attention.

you ears slightly moving upwards, cheeks flushing with heat. he moved his thumb in circular motions, caressing you.

“i’ve never seen anyone as much as i see you. do you understand ? i see you, for fuck’s sake.” you gently gasped, eyes slightly lighting up, trying so hard to hide your smirk.

neteyam has never been good with words and admitting things, but just the fact that he said all of this to you means a lot. you wanted to hug him, and tell him that you forgive him, but is that what you really deserve ?

no, you’re gonna make him beg for it.

his hands rapidly circled your waist, raising you up to seat you on his lap. his hand now on your back holding you. you were so proud of yourself right now for not feeling the need to have this man’s tip in the back of your throat, because oh how attractive he was when he was vulnerable.

“please, please, please. forgive me.” he said. eyes lightly squinted, and oh so desperate. you could already feel heat pool in your cunt, your clit throbbing at any word of his.

“i might as well kill myself if i have to live with the thought that i made you feel bad and you never forgave me. we don’t have to get back together, i could never and will never force you, but only if that’s what you want. you have no idea of how much regret i felt after realising the impact that my words had on you.” he pleaded, you could feel his heart thudding rapidly against your chest. he sounded like he meant it.

would it be too bad to give him a chance ?

“oh really ?” “yes.” he said, without any hesitation.

your hand slowly reached his jaw caressing it, noticing a sparkle in neteyam’s eyes. you guided your head towards his neck, making him hold his breath, eyes flashing.

you lightly kissed his jaw, then his cheek, and then his mouth. he didn’t wait and didn’t fight back. you positioned another light kiss on his lips, feeling his arms roaming on your back.

“i forgive you.” you whispered, positioning your lips against his again hungrily . you felt him smile against your mouth, a hand on his neck deepening the kiss. just a few seconds after, a whine left his mouth, leaving you almost surprised. his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. you smiled, a grin plastered on your face as you slowly dived in the crook of his neck, kissing and biting everything you could.

a soft breath left his lips, still slightly parted. you grabbed his chin, leaving you more space to work on. as you left marks and kisses, he could feel a tent forming in his loincloth, and you being directly over it wasn’t helping. he contained himself from grinding against you, to try and get some friction. you harshly grabbed a piece of his hair, tugging on his scalp.

and that, plus the neck kissed couldn’t hold him from moaning. he had no idea how turned on you were right now. your slick started smearing his loincloth, but you weren’t ashamed one bit.

he bit his lip trying to contain all his sounds, but you untucked it.

“there’s no one here, let me hear every single noise you make. that’s how good boys get prizes.” you whispered, nibbling at his earlobe. he could feeling himself twitching at your ‘good boy’. there were a few times where neteyam played the sub role, but never in his life has he enjoyed it this much.

“are you a good boy, nete’ ?” you asked him, expecting an answer.

“fuck.” he whispered, shaking and whimpering. you suddenly stopped, as he gave you a questioning look. you felt his hands gripping your waist, the teasing getting to his head.

“i said…” you started, looking at him.

“are you a good boy nete’ ?” you finished, a tear threatening to leave neteyam’s eye. he nodded multiple times, trying to convince you to get back to what you were doing. “i need words.”

“yes, ( y/n ). please.” he said, almost sounding like a whisper. you could feel his precum staining your panties, your fluids mixing. his nails started to dig deep into your hip’s flesh.

“good boy.” you trailed your hand, carefully tracing all of his abs, getting a few whines out of him. there’s nothing in the world that neteyam loved more than edging.

getting edged, edging someone, he couldn’t give a fuck. the tension, the teasing, the desperation. he loved it all, seeing someone so close yet so far. not getting what he wants was such a turn on for him. feeling your cunt clench around his fingers desperately after stopping, just a second before your orgasm. seeing your juices flow uncontrollably after tracing back from your clit, his face between your thighs, legs shaking, feeling your thighs about to suffocate him, trying everything to get his face a bit more near your heat. your pussy holding his dick thigh when he pulls your hips down on him, him sliding in you, only to then not move and leave you there squelching and crying. oh he loved it.

he felt your fingers work on his loincloth, he reached out to help you. he suddenly got slapped away, his dick twitching and a gasp leaving his mouth. “hands off, if i see you moving again i will shut everything off.” you said, a serious expression on your face. how he wanted you to use him as your little toy. being that his only purpose.

his loincloth got discarded to somewhere in the room, a smirk on your face when his dick sprung up hitting his abdomen. he hissed at the feeling of cold air hitting his tip, a tear rolling down his cheek. he gripped the sheets, containing himself.

he watched you as your top fell off, leaving your plump tits on display for him, your nipples hard from the coldness of the room. his eyes widened, never getting tired of this show. he slowly guided his hand to his dick, stroking slowly and the grip tightening as he got close to his tip. his mind fogged up when you suddenly slapped him.

his face turned to the left, mouth parted. his grip loosened, his hands back on your waist. he got slapped once again, when you said to not move you weren’t kidding. his bottom lip trembled.

you got up, leaving him there, putting your top on. his heart fell, a guilty look on his face.

“since you can already do anything by yourself, i might as well not be here, right ‘teyam ? i thought you were my good boy ?” you said, making him even more guilty, absolutely loving the show he was putting on for you.

“i- ah! i am, i swear, please.” he crawled to you, wrapping himself over your thigh, he looked up at you. “promise ?” you said, teasing him. “yes, i promise, please- fuck, please.” he cried, heat flushing his cheeks from the embarrassment. he’s never been this desperate before for someone.

you placed him back where he was, getting your loincloth off, your juices already smearing your thighs. you sat on his dick, your folds hugging his shaft, getting a loud moan out of him. he squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to move.

“( y/n ), please, i’m begging you. i’ll do anything, but please.” he cried out, his dick painfully throbbing, his tip so sensitive.

“please, what ?” you asked. he bit his lower lip, ashamed to say anything. as i already said, neteyam has never been good with words, but in this game there no place for difficulties.

“please, fuck me.” he said, lowering his gaze, the sheets about to rip in his hand.

“if only everyone else could see how desperate you are. is this the mighty warrior, hm ?” you said, grabbing his braids, tugging at them, raising his head, as he sobbed. your gaze locked with his teary one, a bit of spit drooling. your degradation plus the hair pulling made him whimper like a little bitch, music to your ears.

“what do you want ? do you want me to fuck you while you moan like a dumb whore ?” you said, with the meanest voice possible, knowing all your mean words were running straight to his dick.

“y-yes.” he confirmed, crying in your hand. he felt embarrassed to admit it, but that's the only way he could've gotten what he wanted, or not. you smiled, grabbing his dick, his head immediately raising hitting the wall behind him. you gave it a few strokes, neteyam’s mouth wide open loud moans falling down.

you gently pushed his tip in your entrance, his abdomen contracting. he already felt so good, stretching you out. he widened his eyes, shocked when he felt you falling on his dick with a sharp fall. you were so tight hugging him, you could still feel him twitching inside of you, a few moans leaving your mouth. you just sat there feeling the full stretch enjoying every second. he got impatient needing you to move, or he’ll probably lose his mind.

“please- move.” he said, feeling his patience slowly thinning out more and more. you were playing with him.

“acting like a strong ass motherfucker only for you to stand below me and beg me like the great warrior you are. what would jake think about you ?” you smirked at him, laughing because you loved making fun of him in these situations, seeing him trying to lower his gaze because he can’t handle the shame but he couldn’t because you were still holding his hair. you tugged his hair once again, feeling him painfully twitch inside of you.

“shit- momma…” he said, his eyes panicking when he realised what he had just said, hiding his face in your hand. your eyebrows raised in a shocked expression, but also very satisfied.

“maybe i’m wrong. what would neytiri think of her son calling another woman mommy ? do you enjoy it ?” you said, making fun of him but he didn’t know you enjoy it much more than he did. your mom didn’t use to like you that muhc, what could anyone expect ?

he got tired but also was so so so turned on, you just were a mean slag, weren’t you ?

“yes ! now PLEASE.” he said grinding himself , slowly thrusting in you, your cheeks warming up.

you pressed his abs down, stopping him from doing anything.

“neteyam. if you do anything again, i am not kidding i will leave you here, in heat and in pain.” you threatened, his eyes widened, his heart thudding fast.

“no, no, no, no, no please fuck- okay ! please just do something.” he said, begging you to not leave him. you threatening him tho… that’s something he didn’t know he would like.

you slowly started thrusting, catching him off guard. he felt his orgasm bubble up in his stomach, leaving you to do all the work. you panted as you felt his tip kissing your cervix. you stabilised yourself on his shoulders, fastening your pace. he moaned and moaned, you made him see stars. the best part of the edging in his opinion, was feeling his orgasm hit him like a truck from all the teasing.

all the edging and teasing made him manage to not last a single second, spurting all of his thickness in you, painting your alls white. your thrusting was more than enough, but your degradation was on another level. he’s 100% sure he could come just from your words, that’s also something he would like to try. his heart threatened to jump out of his ribcage when he felt you not stopping, overstimulating him.

“no- ngh, ( y/n ) stop, enough !” he cried and mumbled, not daring to stop you because only Eywa knows what would happen. “you begged for it, now take it.” you said, not being able to hold off a moan.

he rolled his head, hitting the wall once against, his thighs tensing. he could feel his eyes hurting from how much they were rolled back. fuck, this was too much. a thin layer of sweat covering the both of you. you fucked him dumb, like there was no tomorrow. he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

this was it, in this exact moment he decided you were going absolutely nowhere.

his mouth opened as a second orgasm hit him, the same time it hit you. you both moaned, riding out your highs, head in the clouds. he calmed himself down as he looked at you, a smile plastered on his face.

not only you fucked him, while he enjoyed everything but you two also talked, solving everything out. things weren’t going to be the exact same as before, but he wouldn’t mind working for it again for you.

you panted, him sliding out of you, your cunt smeared in juices, his cum falling down your legs. he guided his hand to your pussy, a thumb pushing his cum in you. you laughed at his gesture, as you hovered your hand over him, to help him get up. he grabbed it, and got up. you silently wore back all your loincloths, making sure everything was okay.

“want to go swim a bit and get all cleaned up ?” he said, waiting for your reply.

you smiled, realising how much he actually knew you.

“yea, sure.” he smirked at your try to sound like you didn’t care. he grabbed you, bridal style, you gasped when you couldn’t feel your feet on a surface anymore. your arm slithered around his neck, holding yourself on something. you walked out of the pod, noticing it wasn’t night yet. he walked a bit, trying to look for a good spot for the two of you. you were very picky on where you wanted to swim.

he noticed one, as you felt his walk getting faster, getting that he was not going to stop.

“neteyam ?” you questioned, as he suddenly started running towards the sea, gripping you tightly. your eyes flashed when the realisation hit you. “no, neteyam- stop !” you said, but it was too late as he jumped in the water, feeling it hug both of your bodies. you swam to the surface, breathing loudly. he resurfaced, and whipped his hair from side to side. you both laughed as you swam towards him, your legs hugging his waist, his hands reaching to hold you by your thighs, arching your back.

you heard him call his ilu, as it came towards him. you jumped on it, hugging neteyam’s back to hold yourself. he placed a hand on your thigh as you both swam. you laughed at his gesture. he’s his daddy’s son.

as the ilu swam faster, he could feel your hold getting more and more tight. you placed your cheek on his back, getting him all worked up and flustered. these were the kind of moments he never wanted to forget, if he were to die that day he would’ve died a happy man. with his mate, in the ocean, everything in place.

you felt him suddenly stop, reaching a part of the village that reminded him of the forest, his home. he thought it was the time that the two things that made him the most happy would finally meet. he got off the ilu, holding a hand for you to grab on. you helped yourself with it, smiling at him. an arm snaked your shoulders, him guiding you in the place.

you couldn’t stand the beauty of it. the variety of plants, the animals, the peacefulness. this was the kind of places that you loved, in that moment also thinking kiri would’ve gone crazy over a location like this. she missed the forest like crazy, but also did neteyam, and probably everyone else. you saddened at the thought of neteyam leaving his home and having to adapt t a whole new home and habitat. you held him tighter, making him raise and eyebrow and smile. he positioned his head on yours, as you both walked.

“i’m definitely faster than you know, i’ve been training.” you said catching his attention, teasing him.

“nah, you’re not.” he said non chalantly. “you’re a pussy.” you laughed at him, getting a flick of his finger on your forehead in return. “ow !” you complained, as you both laughed. he suddenly grabbed your hand, making you run with him, feeling exactly like in the forest. all the colours, couldn’t help but bring you nostalgia. the sky as clear as it could ever be. you both ran.

running deeply, running wild.

you laughed and joked as you jumped from a place to another, noticing you still were both good at it, even though you didn’t get the chance to do this often. your abilities weren’t much need in the metkayina clan, even though you two were the best in the omaticaya clan.

neteyam was smiling, until he heard a familiar sound making him immediately stop, his ears sprung up, a serious expression on his face as his smile dropped. you suddenly stopped running, noticing he also stopped. you were confused, when he motioned you to not move, only making you more confused.

“could you do me a favour ?” he said, looking at you, cupping your face in his hands, the most serious expression plastered on his face.

“yea sure, what is it ?” you asked curiously, waiting for his response.

“run.”

final notes : this is it for tonight y'all lmao, i'm going to sleep. bye !

tags : @xoxobabe @marcswife21 @rubysworld96 @klarolinefanatic @giftfromthemoon @k4tsukiis @neteyamsbbgfr @miapanticc @famousbagelhandspurse @astablacksword @ghoulfac3 @mashiromochi @avatarslut0 @chanyeolsbeloved @regulus-black-223048 @isabelcor3 @grierpilots @neteyamsmate4life @beyoenisbalfart @severenswife @bealone-prm @hafutoru @jyoungmom @soxfix @thatgoodvibescloud @aalyara @abbersreads @strawberryys-stuff @ilovestargirl @meivap @erenjaegerwifee @slutforavatar @athenachu @ghostjoohoney @tsamiaxo @arminsgfloll @hirokosoul @strawberryclouds22 @girlkissersco @spoonlord7 @fromthedeskofjoii @loverwonie @chrys018 @rea-zxv @taleiak @shartnart1 @lilprettypetite @dakotali @moeb11us @momfucker-nyct @irisskies @reialuvb @luvagirlsworld @ilikeblue-aliens @sullymenrhot @muthmergya @rosygodx @alana69s @sai-lia @dollyplayhouse

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ad7red · 1 year

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could you write sth for jack, where his gf (singer) is in the process of writing an album (for the sake of the fanfic, let’s pretend reputation by taylor swift is written by the reader!), and jack is the main inspiration? maybe they’re just cuddling one night and he asks her to sing sth from the album to him, and she sings a song she wrote about him and it’s just super fluffy and cute? (could the song also be ‘Call it what you want’? i think it’s so romantic!) thank u in advance, and i understand if maybe you’re not up for it! 🩷

GORGEOUS

AN ; mashed these together since they were kinda similar, im sorry it’s not hippie music!! also i changed the lyrics to match LMAO

PAIRING ; jack champion x singer!reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Jack couldn’t have been prouder, you, his girlfriend's debut album ‘Reputation’ has been a huge hit! He could not get over how big you’ve gotten over such a short period of time!

“Your a literal lyrical genius!” Jack had yelled from his side on your bed. You chuckled at his sincere words. “And you're an acting deity” you replied, reciprocating his energy.

He ignored your compliment as if it was nothing, his eyes full of admiration. “Seriously! How do you even come up with this type of stuff?”

You smirked as you scooted closer to where Jack was laying. “You really wanna know?” he nodded his head urgently. You booped him on the nose while answering “You, silly!” He shook his head in disbelief, “Me? Really?” You giggled at his surprise, you had assumed it was obvious that he was the inspiration behind your music.

“Who did you think Gorgeous was about?” you smiled at him as he connected the dots. “Chocolate brown eyes, lookin' in mine’ sound familiar?” He was smiling ear to ear, obviously delighted.

Just as you thought he couldn’t smile any bigger, he did. Then jumping onto you, placing all his weight onto you while singing -- closer yelling -- “YOU'RE SO GORGEOUS!! I CANT SAY ANYTHING TO YOUR FACE!!”. You laughed while trying to push him off, though it was no use, he was stronger than you were.

The more he sang, the more he peppered kisses all over your face. Line by line, he started to go through the song. While your vain attempts to get him to stop were no use.

He had reached the last line. “You're gorgeous.” even though he was just singing the song, you both knew he had intent behind his words.

He repeated it once more, but with the sing-songy voice he previously had on. “You’re gorgeous.”

short n sweet :) also this is kinds bad i had no idea how to go abt this lol

#sam writes #jack champion #jack champion x fem!reader #jack champion x reader #x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #fanfic #scream #avatar #ethan landry gif #fluff

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sugarbbgrl · 1 year

Text

Let’s Go For A Ride

summary: Soap has been wanting you to ride his face for quite some time now.

CW: MDNI!!!!! face riding, fingering, light praise (?), soap being really fucking sexy

word count: 1.1k

(sorry if there’s spelling/grammar mistakes, i hate type on phones LMAO)

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

The thought of it was extremely sexy to you and had you already wet just thinking about the way Johnny would grip your thighs and work his tongue over your clit while staring up at you with his beautiful blues.

But to say you weren’t nervous was an understatement. It’s not something you had thought to do before so you’d never experienced anything like that. Of course, he’s eaten your pussy countless times, but this was very new to you.

But here you are: dressed in a light pink, sheer Babydoll lingerie set and a couple cheap salted carmel-scented candles next to you. You wait for your beloved Dove boy to walk through the door.

“Mo ghràdh..” Soap gasps as he enters your shared bedroom, his eyes fully trained on you. “What’s all this ‘bout?” He begins to take off his heavy work boots and waits for your answer.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night and I think I’m ready to ride your face.” You face heats up lightly as you admit, silently thanking yourself for keeping the lighting minimum. Soap’s confused face quickly gets replaced by a toothy grin as he sets his boots to the side.

“Well then, no better time like now, ya?” He places himself next to you and places a hand on your cheek. Your lips connect and the kiss turns quickly sloppy; your tongues battle each other and teeth clash lightly. He pulls you onto his lap and you could already feel him

“Dove, we haven’t even started yet..” You mumble against his lips, a lightly giggle leaving your lips.

“Just the thought of your straddling my head is making me go crazy.” Johnny disconnects from you and shifts to lay down. “I need you now, my sweet.”

He’s being go gentle, knowing you were nervous at the thought and now that the time has come, your nerves are wilder than ever. His thumbs rub tender circle on your thighs, keeping eye contact with you. You take a deep breath and make your way up to his face. You could see his chest begin to rise and fall quicker at the anticipation of finally getting to feel your thighs surround his head and your drenched heat hover over his lips.

“You’re so beautiful, already so wet for me, darling.” He praises you, pressing kisses to your inner thighs, nipping in spots along the way. You could feel his breath stop at your clit, the feeling causing a shudder to creep up your spine.

“No hovering, I need your fully against my mouth, you understand?” His tone turned stern, but only a little. He needed you to understand how badly he needs to feel your pussy and legs against his face.

“Yes, sir.” You breathe out as you push yourself onto his mouth, finally feeling his lips latch themselves onto your sensitive bud. An almost primal sound released from Soap’s throat, finally getting to taste your sweet nectar in the way he so desperately needs.

He started sweetly, gently lapping at your throbbing clit and soaked hole. You couldn’t help but buck your hips at the pleasure, your eyes closing and head lolling to the side. He took his time, savoring the taste until he finally hooked his arms around your thighs so you had no choice but to sit there and take it.

Mewling and moaning at the feeling of his beard softly scratching your inner thighs combined with his tongue, you could help but arch your back and push yourself further onto his mouth. He picked up the pace from kitten picking and suckling to full blown thrusting his tongue in and out of you.

“So sweet..” His muffled voice vibrated against your pussy. Your moans grew and your hands flew to his hair, digging your fingers in and tightly gripping the short mohawk on his scalp. He removed one of his hand from your thighs and pushed two fingers into your wetness, going knuckles deep and moving them around inside of you.

You once again bucked again this mouth unable to control your movements at this point, your climax slowly creeping up on you.

“Look at me, Dove.” Your head dropped and your eyes slowly opened to meet his sea colored irises. His pupils were blown out, completely doused in the pleasure of watching you unravel above him. His eyes held a gentleness but his actions were one of a madman. Just the sight of him looking up at your as he buried his fingers deeper into you and his tongue working against you nub was enough to send your mind spinning.

The bucking of your hips became more and more, now fully grinding against his hot mouth. His name left you lips over and over again, his grip moving from you thigh to one of your tits. He pinched and rubbed at your nipple to help the sensation flood your senses even more. He added a third finger and thrusted them after and deeper into you.

Your sopping walls began to clench around them, full blown euphoria ripping through you as you began to ride his fast harder.

“Fuck, Johnny!” You whimpered, feeling like an animal in heat. Your whimpers turned into loud moans as your peak finally hit you all at once. A string of curses flooded your lips, your thighs clenched hard around the sides of his head and the top half of your body went limp. You came hard onto his mouth, your delectable juices coating his tongue. It was enough for him to moan with and against you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from the taste.

Your whines as he continued to laps at you, much slower and lighter now that your clit becomes more sensitive. You finally climb off of his face, his beard and mustache glittering with your juices.

“Christ, sweetheart, I don’t think you understand how sexy that entire scene was above me.” He breathed out. “Watching your hips move against my face was a sensation I could never get enough of.”

You blushed, not having processed the entire situation that had just unfolded before you. Your hand moved down to the tent in his jeans, slowly rubbing his hard cock restrained by his zipper. Soap began to moan one more, bucking his hips up into your hand, looking for any sign of relief.

“I think it’s my turn to take care of you, Dove.”

#call of duty #cod mw2 #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soap mctavish x you

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godsiero · 23 days

Text

promises (found a title)

heyo, i’m back with PLOT and EXPOSITION. sorry it’s so long, but this is needed information! it could’ve been longer, but then i realized it was nearing 10k and decided to stop lmao. i actually edited and proofread this one before posting it like a big girl so i hope the five people who read it enjoy it! i love this so much, but also please criticise me.

chapter one is here

wc: 9k

warnings: physical abuse (oc), panic attack (oc), hurt/comfort (spencer is the sweetest), mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, general cm content, mentions of possible sexual harassment

__________________________________________

In the six months that had passed since joining the team, Claudia had started to fit right in, the same way Morgan had said she would. Any time she’d had off, she found herself sharing it with Spencer; discussing books and reading over the essays of past agents Blake and Lewis, whom he spoke highly of, and she wished she could’ve met them while they were on the team. They bonded over their time as professors, discussing the different experiences they’d had; Spencer with his classes full of auditing students (Claudia sensed there was something fishy behind that), Claudia with her classes full of boys who would never listen. That made Spencer a certain type of upset he couldn’t quite place. He’d ask her about it another time.

Claudia was the first person in a long time to hold a candle to Gideon when it came to playing chess with Spencer, again, it gave him a feeling in his chest he couldn’t quite place. When they played chess, they would either sit in silence, or they would both ramble off at each other about everything and nothing, and they quickly discovered they had a lot more in common than their academic tastes.

Claudia had put him in check during one of their games and mumbled “Allons-y!” under her breath in a tired haze. She hadn’t realized Spencer had heard her until she heard his laugh (which she enjoyed getting out of him, often, but that was neither here nor there).

“Were you showing me you’ve been working on your French, or were you quoting David Tennant’s doctor?” Spencer had his suspicions that Claudia had at least seen a little bit of the show. She had a scarf that was a subtler version of the fourth Doctor’s and sometimes he’d see her notes she would take during briefings and on the plane, and he’d notice she would doodle the different screwdrivers, but he’d never tell her he was looking so closely at something so small that was only meant for her to see. She would never tell him she’s noticed his wandering eye.

She smiled into herself, trying to avoid his gaze, cursing herself for outing one of her secrets so obviously. It was one thing to subtly hint she’d had the interest, it was another thing entirely to let it slip out so clearly. She’d wanted to wait a little longer before showing the team who she really, really was, but she thinks she’d be fine with him knowing her a little better than anybody else.

“What if it was both?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and smiled, “Why didn’t you tell me! We could’ve been watching it together this whole time!”

Hearing him say the words “we” and “together” in the same sentence and referring to her gave her a certain sort of pride and honor she did not want to think too deeply about, considering he probably used the same words when talking about something else with someone else.

“I don’t know…” Claudia decided to come clean, partially, “I might have been…hiding a few things about myself for fear of seeming…juvenile?” She phrased it like a question because saying it out loud to someone for the first time made her feel really stupid and she suddenly regretted ever hiding herself from any of them, especially Spencer.

He looked her in the eyes, “Claudia. Your personal interests, no matter how ‘juvenile,’ do not diminish your intellect. Liking Doctor Who and having fun does not make you any less of an academic, it makes you human.”

She was surprised by how empathetic he was being. She’d gotten to know him on a personal and friendly level, and she was proud of that (especially since, according to Penelope, he was unusually quick to open up to Claudia), but she hadn’t expected him to be so…compassionate.

“I know, but…” she focused her gaze somewhere else, trying to think of a logical reason to explain away why she felt lying so profusely was necessary. She wanted them to know her, why was she still hiding?

“No, there doesn’t need to be a ‘but,’ you can just be honest, now. I’ve found you out, I know you’re a nerd, I know you’re a loser, just like me, it’s okay,” she knew he was joking, but he gave her a sympathetic look anyway, to prove it.

“First of all, doctor, you do not know a thing about me, in due time.”

“Oh, really?” he kept his playful air about him while going on his rant, “Then how do I know you’re never listening to a podcast when you have your headphones in? How do I know that you’re actually listening to a variety of music from various genres that are all subgenres of rock or metal? How do I know that your favorite of all of that music came out between the years of 2002 and 2008? How do I know that you often listen to the same songs over and over again because you can’t get enough of them until you catch an itch to listen to a different song approximately 12 times in a row, without getting bored? If I, presumably, don’t know a thing about you, how is it that I know, arguably, the most important thing about you?”

For lack of a better word, Claudia was speechless.

He had just made an absolute fool out of her and she couldn’t even say a word.

So she started laughing.

She wasn’t laughing at him. She was laughing at how stupid she had been to think she could’ve gotten anything past him, especially the thing that meant the most to her.

“Are you laughing because I’m right? Because I know I’m right. I know I tend to be right, but there is a less than 5% chance I’m wrong and just made an idiot of myself,” he was chuckling along with her.

Gasping for air while she spoke, or rather, yelled, “YES! Yes, god, you’re right, you’re right! But Jesus Christ, you didn’t have to hit the nail on the head, Spencer!”

He gave her a playful side-smile, “I knew I’d figure you out. You had me fooled for a while there.”

“That was the idea.”

“Why? I understood the fear of appearing juvenile, but, forgive me, your music taste is anything but. And that’s coming from someone who listens to Mozart and Bach.”

“I just wanted everyone to see me as this…proper…professional. I don’t know, being the youngest on a team full of people who have known each other for a decade is a little intimidating,” she was the one rambling, now, “so long story short I tried to hide everything that made me, me so everybody would like me and think I was incredible at this job, and it worked, I guess, because JJ and Emily come to me for advice and Morgan talks to me about his fatherly insecurities and Rossi invites me over to his mansion to discuss cultura e storia and I work out with Hotch and I don’t even know how I ended up in such situations, but it seems a thank you is in order to give to my fake self that is quiet, yet sassy, and firm, yet soft, and totally and completely calm any time you lay eyes on her, meanwhile Claudia Jessup is actually a loud and abrasive autistic freak who self-soothes by blasting music so loud, you’d think I’d gone deaf by now, and buying trinkets that make my heart flutter, and drinking coffee as much as I possibly can because it makes me feel like it’s always cold outside, and buying romance books because I just love reading about two people going stupid with how desperate they are for each other, and I also love the way they smell and how they feel when I flip all of the pages at the same time, and I love Peter Capaldi’s Doctor and I am tired of pretending he was a terrible choice.”

She finally gasped for air and came out of her self-induced tunnel vision to see Spencer. Still sitting across from her, at his chess table, in his apartment. He hadn’t stopped listening. He hadn’t gotten up and begun to ignore her. He hadn’t walked to the door to tell her to leave. He’d just listened. A grin adorned his face. He was bursting at the seams with pride. He was so happy to get the truth out of her. He’d gotten so close to her, so fast, that she’d let her mask slip a few times, and he was determined to crack her open, and he did. At first, he felt bad. He felt as though he’d pushed her too far, before she was ready, but he could tell, now, that she had needed to do that. She needed to stop hiding and lying.

“Feel better?”

She felt like she just finished with a manic episode. She was laughing with every exhale, she put her elbows on her knees, and put her hands on her forehead, staring at the ground, eyes wide, “Yeah. Yeah, I feel better. I feel…I feel like I just went supernova on you…”

“I certainly don’t feel like you just went supernova on me.”

“And I think if I stay here any longer, I might suck you into the black hole.”

She’d had breaks like this before. The end of a long period of masking. The beginning of the end was always an epiphany; it made her feel high. Then it was followed by panic; she felt like she’d gone too far, blown everything out of proportion, gone supernova. Then finally, she would bring everything in her wake down with her, in a fit of embarrassing, dramatic, and unintentional rage and emotion she’d never meant to place on anybody. She needed to get away from Spencer immediately; she didn’t want him to see that part of her. Ever.

In addition to the obvious, this conversation with Spencer, and his response and reaction, had flipped a switch inside of her. She’d realized there was something she needed to do before she could fully, officially open up to everybody on the team, and she thought she was finally in the position to do it. She got up from his chess table and started to get her things.

“Claudia, you don’t have to-”

“No, no, Spencer, it’s fine, I’m fine, I just…really don’t want you to see what happens next…”

“Where are you going?”

“I just…there’s something I need to do tonight.”

“I can go with you.”

“No, no, thank you, that’s okay. I need to be alone. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Okay…be safe.”

“I will, I promise. Get some sleep.”

“Okay…call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Claudia”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

As she left Spencer’s apartment, she double checked everything: her bank account, her lease, her insurance, her storage unit, her security system. She couldn’t believe it took her this long to act on the plan she’d been silently hatching with herself, but she needed to be positive she could do it by herself before making her first move.

Claudia spent the last five years in a relationship. She spent the last three years living with them. She spent the last two in self defense and boxing classes. Over the last six months, she’d been working up the courage to prove to herself she could survive on her own. Despite her time with the CSI, her time as a professor, and her time as a licensed therapist, she still had never been able to safely and securely leave. Something about Spencer figuring her out and her spilling her guts to him and him still hanging around without a trace of fear in his eyes made her realize she could’ve and should’ve done this years ago. She leveled with herself and said better late than never.

When she arrived home, he wasn’t there, thank god. She didn’t know how she was going to go about this, at all. She looked around and hated everything she saw. Like she told Spencer earlier, she would always buy little trinkets and toys and paintings and books and blankets and mugs she liked, but she never had anywhere to put them. Seeing things that brought her joy in a place that brought her so much pain made her feel stupid. She hated feeling happy around him. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure of even thinking he caused it, not that he would, he hated her just as much as she hated him. They barely even spoke or saw each other any more, neither of them were ever home at the same time, even before she got this job, not that she was complaining.

They did love each other, once. A long time ago. He thought she was smart, she thought he was alive. They liked the same music, ran in the same crowds, it seemed right, and it was for two years. It was nice, he was nice. Eventually, though, she’d started paying less and less attention to him. Not out of anything personal, but because her career had started falling into place; she’d become a professor at Penn, she’d been promoted with the CSI, and she’d kept clients for years, at that point; she’d gotten everything she’d wanted.

And he hadn’t. He built up a resentment towards her. He started partying more, drinking more, doing drugs, cheating on her (though he didn’t know she knew that). She didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but she knew something changed. It was when he came home in a drunken rage and hit her that she realized nothing would ever be the same. At the time, it had felt like a one-time-thing. You would think she would’ve left, given what she knew, but she saw it as an opportunity for a case study. Selfish? Of course, but she was putting herself at risk for the sake of science, she could live with that.

She had tried doting on him more, being kinder, going out of her way to please him, and she found he had been nicer, happier, more tolerant of her busy schedule. After a month, she started ignoring him again, throwing herself into her work, never coming home before he was asleep, and her theory was right, that set him off again. This time, he wasn’t drunk, and he beat the shit out of her. Shouting at her, spitting on her, very nearly breaking her bones, definitely leaving some deep cuts and bruises that took weeks to go away. In the middle of it all, she’d started taking classes to be sure if he ever went too far, she could fight back, and take him down. That went on until he got bored.

A year. She spent a year conducting this study. After he’d finally got tired of his affectionately abusive cocktail, he stopped paying attention to her entirely. That was when she really cracked down on her work, but the second she was able to focus totally and completely on that, Roy got sick. She would’ve finished her PhD early, but she started worrying about him. She stayed with him and cared for him as long as she could, until…

The months after were a blur. She focused on her work when she needed to. When she wasn’t working, she was at home. Not her apartment, but home, where she’d grown up. Going through everything, not that there was much. Roy was never a material kind of guy. He sure knew how to raise a material kind of girl, though.

She had taken far longer than she needed to. She didn’t want to leave that house. She didn’t want to go back to the one she lived in now. She didn’t want to be around him anymore. The day she had finished cleaning out the house was the day she decided to leave him, even though she didn’t know how. She knew it would take a while, but she promised herself, and Roy, that she would do it.

Claudia Jessup did not break her promises.

She’d had to move him to D.C. with her. He didn’t have to come, but he did. He could’ve ended it when she left Philadelphia, but he needed her for the same reason she needed him. She was about to rip that security out from underneath him, and she felt an excitement bubbling beneath her skin that was not unlike the adrenaline she experienced while out in the field.

She was determined to stay up until he got home. She didn’t know when, or if, that would happen tonight, but it didn’t matter. It was a promise she made herself, so she was going to keep it.

She got in the shower, taking advantage of the solitude and blasting her music for the first time in what seemed like forever. She needed it. She felt bad about leaving Spencer; she wanted to text him; she’ll do it when she gets out. She’d make it up to him on Monday, when she brought him his coffee.

That was a sweet exchange. Claudia had done into the bullpen with coffee from The Grounds. Not her favorite place to get a cup from, but certainly the closest and easily accessible on her way to work. You would never believe the absolute shock on her face when Spencer had entered her and Penelope’s conversation with a cup from Coci, her preferred choice of coffee shop in the harbour. She instantly started interrogating him about it.

“Is that from Coci?”

“Yeah, it’s not my favorite, but my favorite is kind of out of the way for me, so I settle for second best. Anything beats the pot here,” she feigned betrayal on her face at his admission.

“How dare you.”

“What?”

“How dare you say drinking from Coci is a ‘second best’ kind of experience,” she said dreamily.

“Because I believe it is. I don’t think it’s bad, it’s just not what I prefer. I’d love to get a cup from The Grounds, but that would add an extra twenty minutes to my commute, and that’s not worth it.”

She looked at him, dumbfounded, looked at her own coffee, and turned it toward him so that the label faced him.

“You mean…this ‘The Grounds’ coffee?”

It was Spencer’s turn to be playfully shocked, “Oh my god! You go to The Grounds?”

“Since moving here, yes, and I would say this is second best to my one true love, Coci.”

“Well I think it’s settled then. How do you take yours?”

“Black and scalding, why?”

“I’m going to start bringing you your order, if you don’t mind bringing mine. This seems a fair exchange.”

“You’re not “boy genius” for nothing, clearly,” he’d told her his coffee should have at least eight packs of sugar in it, which made her laugh. When he didn’t say he was joking, she looked very concerned, “Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously.”

With that, a tradition had started: every morning, Spencer had brought her her favorite black coffee and Claudia had brought him his favorite black coffee…with a ridiculous amount of sugar.

“Sugar with coffee,” she said.

“Coffee with nothing,” he replied.

They cheered each other and said that every single morning since then, and she’d hoped it would never stop.

She’d gotten so wrapped up in the memory, she didn’t hear her music stop playing because she was getting a phone call. She was in the middle of washing her face when she opened the shower curtain to see she was getting a call from Garcia. She rinsed off her face with record breaking speed and picked up her phone, while still halfway in the shower.

“Garcia?”

“Hi, hon. I know it’s late, or, uh, early, but we’ve got a case. Get here as soon as you can and be safe.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in thirty,” and she hung up the phone. She could’ve said twenty, but since it was four in the morning, she figured she may as well keep up appearances with Spencer, while it was on her mind.

She hadn’t realized how late it had gotten and instantly regretted having the music so loud, she’d hoped her neighbors wouldn’t mind. She got dressed and stepped out of the bedroom, running into him.

“Jesus, Devon, I didn’t even hear you come in,” she wasn’t afraid of him, but she was afraid of somebody coming into her home, so not hearing that he’d come in shocked her a little.

“Feeling a little jumpy, Claude? Your big girl job scaring you yet?”

“You? Scare me? Not in a million years. And don’t call me that,” she pushed past him and tried to get her go bag from the front closet, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Where are you going? It’s four in the morning on a Sunday.”

“One, I don’t have to tell you where I’m going. Two, this happens sometimes. Three, you’re drunk,” she could’ve pulled out of his grasp, but chose not to. Now was as good a time as ever to execute her plan. Case be damned, this needed to happen, now, or she wouldn’t have the opportunity again, for who knows how long.

He held onto her arm tighter, “What? You gonna arrest me for drinking, officer?”

“I’m not an officer. Let me go, Devon.”

“Why? So you can run off to your little brainiac?” he had let her go, but he did so by tossing her away.

“There is no way you are accusing me of cheating right now.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Even if I was, which I’m not, why does it matter to you?”

He abruptly ran up to her, gripped her shoulders, and pinned her against the wall, gritting through his teeth, “Because I’d like to know if I need to teach somebody a lesson on loyalty.”

She spit in his face, then, which caused him to pull her off the wall and slam her head right back into it.

“You think you can treat me like that, bitch?” he was yelling now. She was holding the back of her head.

“Yes, actually, I do. You’re a drugged up drunk who beats on someone who’s never done a single thing to you besides stay with you through all of your bullshit, including cheating on her.”

He gave her a good backhand slap, that sent her to the ground, “You don’t know that, how do you know that?”

“I didn’t, but thank you for the confirmation,” she smiled a rueful smile at him and stood up. She felt blood running down her face. He had a ring he always wore on his finger that must’ve cut her face, when he hit it.

He hit her in the same spot and sent her to the ground again, this time with his fist.

“Keep ‘em comin’, Devon, beat the shit out of me like you always do!” at that, he put his hands around her neck, pulled her up, and slammed her against the wall again, this time cutting off her airway.

She choked out, “Go…a-ahead. Sh-show…the gov..ernment…what…y-you…can…do-”

He threw her to the ground at the reminder of her job, “God dammit Claudia, why do you have to be like this?”

“Be like what? Ready and willing to please you?” she was clutching her throat, gasping for air between words.

He had never liked when she was sarcastic, he grabbed her face with his hand, “Don’t fuck with me,” and kneed her in the stomach, throwing her on the ground.

She couldn’t help but let out a grunt, at that. She might be mentally fine with his abuse, but he was still fully capable of hurting her.

He flipped her over and straddled her, making sure she stayed on the ground, not that she was going to try to get up, and he went to town on her face with his fists.

Between blows she would manage to get out, “‘Do your worst, inferior one,’” this threw him off, so he hesitated on his next punch, which gave her the opportunity to take advantage of him. She tucked her leg under his bent knee and flipped him over, pinned his arms to the ground, and started pressing her forearm into his neck ever so slightly before getting really close to his face and saying, “Take a good look at your handiwork, Devon. Enjoy it while you can because you will never see me again,” her entire face was bloody and swollen. She knew he loved to look at the damage he had done to her, knowing it made her beautiful face unsightly, making people turn away from her on the street when her favorite thing was human connection. This was how he took her down. Or so he thought.

“Listen to me right now. Nobody. Will ever know you did this to me. The FBI will never know you did this to me. I’m not going to report you. I’m not going to have you arrested. I’m not going to tell a single soul how this happened. Not. Even. Spencer.” she knew that would set him off. He wanted to hate Spencer for ruining his relationship, for being smarter, for being everything he could never be. He was stuck in a state of delusion, thinking everything was fine before Spencer came along. He thought leaving his marks on her let Spencer know she was his and she belonged to him, not some nerd at her job. Little did he know she had never let anybody know the marks were from him because nobody knew about him to begin with. They knew she took boxing courses at the bureau, which they all knew could get ugly, but were worth it for the experience and pay off. Any marks they saw on her were easily explained away by that.

“You are going to give me your key. You are going to walk out of here before me. We. Are. Done. Do you understand me?” he didn’t respond because of the lack of oxygen getting to his brain, “Do you understand me?” she said it much louder, then, and he nodded as best he could.

“Take your key off of your belt.”

She let go of his left arm and he slid it down to his belt loop where he’d had his keys on a carabiner. He unclipped it and tossed it across the room.

After that, she climbed off of him, went to the keys, found the one he’d had to the place, and took it off. Triple checking he hadn’t made a copy. He was too stupid to hide one anywhere and she was too smart to leave one hidden in case of an emergency for him to know about.

He couldn’t even go after her to give her a piece of his mind because he was too busy regaining full consciousness while she was dealing with the keys. When she was finished, she walked back over to him, grabbed his shirt in her fist, and pulled him into a standing position. She didn’t say anything to him as she opened the door and shoved him outside. She locked all three locks before walking back into her bathroom to check the damage he’d done.

This was probably the worst he’d ever done to her. Her lips were busted, her gums were bleeding, her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks were bruised. She had cuts all over her face, her ribs were bruised, and there were ten faint lines burned into her neck from where his hands had been.

She looked herself in the eye and smiled. She started crying to herself. She’d never been more proud of something she had done, including make Roy proud. She was honored to be in this body and in this mind and make it out alive of what she’d just done.

She cleaned herself up, put on some makeup, and a few butterfly bandages.

She examined herself and determined the way she looked now would pass as “a few cuts and bruises from Luke at the training facility.”

Then, she remembered she promised Spencer to call him if she needed anything (it was not lost on her that she also promised him that she would be safe, and although she just got the pulp beaten out of her, she was safe the entire time).

While she was leaving her apartment, she’d called Spencer.

He picked up the phone with his typical sass, “Did you even sleep?”

“No. Did you?”

“Nope.”

“I told you to get some sleep!”

“I never promised that I would.”

“Touche. I made a promise, though, and that was to call you if I needed anything…”

“Coci?”

“You’re already there aren’t you?”

“You think just because it’s four in the morning on a Sunday I’d forget about my Claudia’s coffee? Who do you think I am? Some sort of criminal?”

She deliberately ignored how casually he called her his Claudia.

“No, somebody else did that already.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. Too soon?”

“You can make it up to me by returning the favor.”

“On it, bud. Over and out.”

By the time she hung up, she’d gotten into her car, and made her way to The Grounds.

__________________________________________

Claudia had been walking into the front entrance of the BAU’s building when she noticed Spencer was the person a few feet in front of her.

“Hey! Sugar with coffee!” she shouted to get his attention.

He’d just finished swiping his card, so he opened the door and held it for her (which was strictly against policy, but it was Claudia).

“Coffee with nothing,” they exchanged cups as she walked through the door, “my god they did a number on you didn’t they?” he’d begun to inspect her face, seeing all of the cuts she’d bandaged. She looked at him, confused as to what he was talking about, then he saw where his eyes were going as he inspected her face, and remembered.

“Oh. Yeah,” before she could say anymore, she remembered she promised not to lie to him anymore. Her admission was honest enough. She never promised to not withhold information.

He had a subtle hint of concern in his eyes that he normally didn’t have when he noticed her cuts and bruises she got from the training facility. He felt like something was off about these, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew she wasn’t lying, but something was off about how she avoided eye contact with him after he’d said something.

Then he remembered the facility didn’t have classes on Sunday, and when she’d left his apartment only hours before, she didn’t look like that.

He was just about to pry more information out of her, when they ran into JJ, coming from the opposite direction.

“Anybody else feel like they’re sleepwalking?”

“Tell me about it, I didn’t sleep at all, literally,” Claudia chuckled.

“Me neither, Henry has had food poisoning, and my mother was staying with us, talk about having your hands full.”

The elevator dinged. Claudia and JJ stepped into the elevator, while Spencer stayed put, stuck in a daze.

“Spence?”

“Earth to Spencer?”

He snapped back into reality and forced his thoughts of what Claudia was keeping from him back down his throat and into the confines of his reminders for later.

“Sorry, need to drink this coffee faster I guess,” he tried at a joke, but they could both see something else turning the gears of that big brain of his.

Claudia knew it had something to do with her, judging by his previous reaction, and considering she didn’t exactly want to talk about it in front of JJ, she stayed silent.

JJ, however, had other plans, “Are you okay? You look a little…”

Before she could finish, he blinked and shook his head like a dog after a bath, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just tired,” to really seal the deal, he let out a huge yawn, which made Claudia and JJ follow suit.

Mid-yawn, breaking the tension between her and Spencer, Claudia said, “My god, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he picked up that that was her way of acknowledging she knew that he knew she was hiding something from him, so he calmed down a bit too. By the time he said that, they’d reached the sixth floor, only to be met by the rest of the team heading into the elevator.

“No time to brief you three. Wheels up now.”

__________________________________________

The plane ride was lackluster, the case is straightforward, but still unable to be solved, for now. This unsub is particularly frantic and unpredictable with his timing, but his MO suggests he was abandoned by his father and looking for surrogates now. Nothing they hadn’t seen before.

After a long flight to Seattle and the drive to this small town thirty miles outside of it, Hotch demanded everyone get some sleep in order to crack down on this guy the next day.

The small town hospitality was not unrecognized. Everybody knew everybody, so when the local police needed to house FBI agents who were trying to catch the man killing well-respected people of the community, loads of folks opened their doors, including a local inn.

Owned and operated by a retired couple in their seventies, it had surprisingly good business, which, unfortunately for the team, meant they had to bunk.

“Lucky for us they still have three rooms available,” Hotch said.

“Lucky? Hotch, have you noticed there are six of us?” Morgan was always the first to despise the idea of bunking with anybody.

“Yes, I have, which is why we’re lucky they still have three rooms and not two.”

“Well, JJ, let’s get a move-on,” Emily had already grabbed her go-bag and took a key from Hotch without a second thought.

“Well, I am absolutely not rooming with Reid,” Morgan had always had a strict “no Spencer” clause when it came to situations like this.

“Guess it’s you and me then,” Hotch had responded to Derek, until he realized who that left, “oh…”

Neither Spencer, nor Claudia, had realized this either until the moment came. Claudia had stopped scrolling on her phone and Spencer had stopped perusing the lobby, waiting for his room assignment, but they heard Hotch’s exclamation.

They both looked at Hotch, then at each other, the back at Hotch before saying, at the exact same time:

“It’s totally fine, we’re friends.”

“There’ll be a male and female pair no matter what we do.”

They looked back at each other one last time before Hotch said, “Okay. As long as you’re both okay with this arrangement, I won’t bother anybody over it.”

He threw Claudia the key before leading Morgan up the stairs to their room. Hotch muttered something to Derek that made him yell with laughter. Spencer and Claudia could only imagine what that was about.

As if on cue, the two looked at each other at the exact same time and started giggling like children who had caught their parents doing something silly.

“Come on,” Claudia said through her fit of laughter.

As she walked ahead of him, Spencer’s mind wandered back to the cuts on her face. He’d thought she’d had more makeup on today than usual. Not that he often paid attention to how little or how much makeup she wore (she rarely wore more than the bare minimum, but he only knew that because she wore a bit less than JJ, Emily, and Garcia). He thought it was strange that she not only procured multiple cuts, but had also been wearing a turtleneck in August. Not the most absurd thing to see, but definitely not ordinary. He wondered if she packed more to continue hiding.

They walked to the room in a comfortable silence, but there was still something lingering between them, and they both knew what it was.

Claudia arrived at the door and unlocked it, making her way inside to, thankfully, see two beds. She had read enough romance novels to know sharing a room with your best friend by chance usually leads things in a crazy direction she did not want to go into tonight (or ever, for that matter, she shoved that thought deep, deep down). She had also had enough sense in her to know that things like that don’t happen in real life.

“Which bed do you want?” Spencer knocked her out of her train of thought.

“Oh, uh,” she wanted to lie and say it didn’t matter, but it did, so she sucked it up and told herself that it’s just Spencer. She could tell him everything, no matter how silly or mundane it seemed.

“Could I have the one next to the air conditioner?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer stood in between the beds and threw his stuff on the one farther away from the ac, so that he could bow to her bed and say, “your throne awaits, my Queen,” in a truly terrible impression of one of the characters from the cartoon portion of Mary Poppins, but it made her laugh, nonetheless.

He started laughing with her, and while she tried to breathe through her laughs she asked, “What on god’s good earth was that!”

“I have no idea, I’m so tired,” he was still laughing, too, “but I did want to…diffuse some tension,” he calmed down to look her in her eyes, pleading for her to finish telling him the truth about what happened to her.

When she just stared back at him, he continued, “Claudia, there is no training at the facility on Sunday. You didn’t get those from Luke.”

She looked away from him, then. She felt her eyes start to burn, but she refused to crack in front of him.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Then where did you get them from,” Spencer was being very gentle with his delivery, which she appreciated.

After a moment’s silence, weighing her options, she said, “Spencer. I will tell you,” she took in a shaky breath, “if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I,” at that, he held up his pinky for her to take. They’d had a discussion a while ago where they both thought keeping a pinky promise was above the law, space, and time, and they meant it, wholeheartedly. She looked between his eyes and his hand and took his pinky in hers. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed his thumb. He pushed their hands towards her and she did the same.

Neither of them tried to let go by the time she started talking, so they both held on tighter.

“Uh…so…like I already told you, I had been trying to keep parts of myself a secret,” she looked into his eyes to be sure he was listening (and also to seek solace). He nodded.

“Well, one of the biggest was that I…kind of…maybe…had a boyfriend…the whole time…” Spencer’s eyes went wide with shock and his brow furrowed at this admission. Of all the things he’s seen through, he never would’ve guessed that.

“You- what?”

He wasn’t mad, he was genuinely surprised.

“Emphasis on the word ‘had,’” she rolled her eyes, “as of this morning.”

Spencer realized where this was going and he felt his chest and jaw clench, his eyes burn, and his blood pulsing everywhere.

Claudia noticed those physical changes and she couldn’t help but look at him like he was a lost puppy. Seeing him like this hurt her more than anything Devon had ever done to her.

She wrapped her hand around his wrist that was holding her pinky, “I don’t want to make you upset-“

He cut her off, “Nothing you are doing is making me upset, I promise. Keep going.”

At that, Claudia sat down on the bed Spencer had claimed as his, and she pulled him down to sit next to her. She didn’t think she could look into those doe eyes of his any longer without completely breaking down, especially while saying what she was about to say.

“I started dating him halfway through the first year of my doctorate. I went to all of these concerts with my friends from my undergrad program and he was always there too. I thought he was cool. My friends who were friends with his friends thought he was cool. We kissed a few times, went on some dates, and started seeing each other. He supported me through half of my time at Penn; he made sure I ate between teaching courses and having sessions with my clients. He made sure I slept enough when I got back from investigations with the CSI, even if it meant canceling some of my classes, my students always understood. After we moved in together, something…switched in him. He started drinking, he stopped going to work, he started avoiding me. One day, after weeks of me being absent and juggling everything all at once, I came home and he was angry. A kind of angry I had never seen before from anybody. He…threw his nearly-full bottle of beer at the door I had walked through. It barely missed my head. When it did, he ran me into the wall and started choking me. My head hit the wall so hard, I nearly fainted. When I didn’t faint, he punched me. Then I blacked out…”

“Did he-“ she knew what Spencer was alluding to, and didn’t want him to finish his sentence.

“No. No. He never did that,” there were times, however, that she had felt the same amount of passion was not reciprocated. But she didn’t want to tell him that. That had nothing to do with this.

“I woke up on the floor, confused. I figured it was a fit of drunken rage, so I decided not to think too hard about it. That is, until, it kept happening,” Spencer felt like his muscles and his bones were going to rip out of his skin. His leg was bouncing up and down and his hands had started to shake from keeping all of this rage inside of him. Claudia noticed, but if she didn’t keep talking, she’d never finish. She needed this to end just as badly as him, and if she didn’t tell him everything, he would know.

“That was my life for a year. It only happened when he was drunk, but it got worse. After the second time, the time I knew it was all intentional, I started taking self-defense and boxing classes and I promised myself I would leave him, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t live by myself. I didn’t want to tell anybody this was happening, especially not-“ she felt a lump in her throat. She didn’t know if she should or could tell Spencer about Roy. Her eyes were wet now, but she was stubborn as all hell, and refused to cry in front of him about something as stupid as Devon. Roy, on the other hand, she could cry about Roy any time of day, and she wasn’t even a crier, but she didn’t think it was fair to dump all of that onto Spencer when she was already telling him all of this.

“Especially not who?” she hadn’t realized she zoned out while weighing her options. Now he would definitely know she was keeping something from him. Honesty, it is then.

“Somebody I…I can’t tell you about, right now, or ever, maybe, but…” she didn’t know how to justify her reasoning for that besides the fact that she had made a bigger promise to Roy to try not to dwell on him. Or talk about him. Thanks for the impossible task, jackass.

“It’s okay. Keep going,” Spencer was being so nice to her, she felt like she would shatter into a million pieces with how fragile she felt.

She told him about her study she’d conducted on him. Spencer recognized it as a part of her dissertation she had written. This whole time, his favorite part of her dissertation, a part that felt so clinical, so real, so calculated, and so emotional wasn’t about a willing client of Claudia’s. It was about Claudia herself. He felt like he was going to be sick.

She didn’t notice, so she kept going. She began to ramble because she realized that would be the only way to get all of this out. She told him about how their conversation led her to finally make the decision to enact this ridiculous plan of hers.

“Wait,” broken from his trance, Spencer spoke up, “I caused this?”

“What? Spencer, no, absolutely not. I need you to understand that I could’ve fought back. I could’ve taken him down. I could’ve done to him what he did to me tenfold. I chose to let him do so much. It was a…selfish, psychological manipulation,” she suddenly felt horrible admitting that’s what she’d done. She felt as low as him now, “Which I realize was stupid and immature, but…I wanted him to think he was safe. I wanted him to think this was business as usual. And then I wanted to rip the rug out from under him. Crush his hopes of thinking he ever had control. From the second time he’d done this, the control was in my hands. You know, he thought everyone knew he did this to me? He took pride in it, but he never knew I covered them. He never knew you all knew I took boxing at the facility. He never knew none of you knew about him, until I told him this morning. The look behind his eyes was priceless. I wish I could’ve captured it on film. He looked so…defeated.”

She’d developed a death grip on Spencer’s wrist and instantly let go. She felt like something was breaking inside of her. She didn’t feel like herself. She was an aggressive person. She was a loud person. Hell, she was even violent, when it came to a punching bag, but the way she psychologically tortured Devon with one sentence felt like she betrayed every good thing she had ever done in the name of justice.

She got up from the bed, then, and started pacing, “I’m so sorry.”

��Sorry? For what?”

“I don’t know, everything? Holding your wrist too tight, telling you all of that, god, you probably think I’m insane now. You probably think I’m an absolute psycho who gets pleasure out of making people feel small, oh my god, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m so sorry, Spencer, I ruined everything, please please please don’t hate me, please don’t tell me I ruined everything. Oh my god I don’t think I can handle losing you, too, right now,” she had begun to shake and hyperventilate. Spencer almost couldn’t take the sight of her like this. He never wanted to see her in pain.

“Hey,” he touched her shoulder, and guided her to sit back down, “it’s okay. You’re okay. We are okay,” he had moved his hand from her shoulder to her upper back, slowly rubbing random patterns across it.

“Can you…can you please stop that?” Claudia had never found someone rubbing her back to be soothing in the case of a panic attack, she found it actually made her feel more suffocated, but she knew Spencer didn’t know that, so she tried to ask in the nicest way possible, given the circumstances.

“Of course,” Spencer instantly stopped and removed his hand, “is there anything else you’d like me to do instead?” He was using that godforsaken whisper of his that made him seem so damn kind and understanding. She heard him use it with children multiple times out in the field, but she never thought he’d be using it on her. The tears might start falling, now, she thought.

“I don’t…I don’t know, could you…could you hold my hand really tight, please?”

She still couldn’t get a hold of her breathing. Her eyes were sealed shut and she was rubbing her hands over her pants; she felt the need to be in constant motion to remind herself that she was still alive.

“Yes,” he grabbed her right hand in both of his and gripped as hard as he thought was necessary without hurting her.

“Could you…could you squeeze harder,” she needed to feel like her circulation was about to be cut off in order for it to work.

“Harder? Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure.”

He squeezed harder until it hurt him to keep going, and he kept that pressure there until she told him to stop. While he was gripping her hand, her breathing slowed, and her left hand had stopped rubbing her leg. Her grip on him hadn’t lessened, though, so he didn’t let go of that.

Her eyes were still shut, but she said, “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Claudia, you didn’t scare me by having a panic attack.”

“But I did scare you?”

“No, you didn’t scare me at all, for any reason, I promise,” it baffled him that she thought that would’ve scared him. If anything, it made him admire her more now that she was comfortable enough to let him see this side of her. Granted, you don’t choose when a panic attack happens, but she could’ve left the room if she wanted to. He knew that.

“You can loosen your hand now,” she was careful not to say ‘let go,’ because she didn’t want him to let go.

He did, but his grip was still firm, tethering her to this moment, to him, to the bed they sat on.

“Do you want some water?”

“Please.”

There were complimentary waters in the room, but they weren’t cold, and he knew she would’ve preferred it to be ice cold freezing. She sensed that’s what he was thinking about when he hesitated to bring it over to her.

“Any water, please, Spencer.”

“Sorry,” he handed her the bottle and she chugged almost the whole thing in one go. She loved the way gulping felt in her throat. It made her feel full after feeling so empty, like all of the life had been sucked out of her.

They stayed silent for a moment while she finished the last of the water, until she finally took a breath and spoke up.

“Okay. Spencer,” she stood across from him and looked him in the eyes; her normal ‘business-as-usual’ self coming back like a charm, “I am going to shower. In that shower, I am going to wash my face. Washing my face means the makeup is going to come off. The makeup covering the worst of the gory details. Do you understand me?”

He nodded.

“When I get out, I would prefer it if you were wrapped up in something else. After the fiasco that just happened, my god, I do not want you to see…this,” she gestured to her entire neck and face, “please be preoccupied. I am begging you.”

He was hesitant to agree. He had a conflict going on inside of him. On one hand, he wanted to see what that bastard really did to her, what extent he went to. On the other…he didn’t want to see her torn apart and beaten with such scrutiny. He didn’t want to see any of it. He wanted to see all of it.

“Okay. I’ll just go to bed. If you need me, wake me up. I won’t mind.”

“Okay,” and with that, she went into the bathroom.

It was probably the best and the worst shower of her entire life. The best because the shower after a panic attack is always incredible and the worst because the shower after a panic attack is always like coming down after a high.

That is, literally, what it is, in a way. She had shattered in that bedroom and Spencer, dear as he was, picked up the pieces, but she had to mend herself.

The tears never fell, they usually don’t. She let the warmth (some might even say scalding hot heat) engulf her. She had to feel like she was in a sauna and a hot spring simultaneously to have the prime shower experience, panic attack notwithstanding, this was a daily need. She let it run over her face, clearing her mind of the headache she felt coming on. She breathed some more and she rubbed her face before finally scrubbing the awful events of that morning off of her. Normally, she showered quickly, but after that she needed to take her time with herself. Instead of quickly going through the motions, she made sure every strand of hair was coated in shampoo and every inch of her body was lathered in body wash and given the same love and care at the end as she gave herself at the beginning. She kept her eyes closed. She kept breathing. Trying to think about nothing. She had a passing thought of Roy and how he used to bathe her when she was little and how she’d come home extremely intoxicated at six in the morning on a day during her undergrad program and he washed her face for her. She remembered, she smiled, she let it go. She took a few more deep breaths and finally got out of the shower. She felt so good, so clean, so calm, so peaceful. And then she saw her face again.

It had gotten worse, as bruises usually do. The cuts were healing fine, thanks to the butterfly bandages, but the bruises. Her cheek and eye were swollen where he’d socked her twice with his ring. Oh well. There was nothing to be done about it besides wait. She took an anti-inflammatory for the swelling, her insomnia medication, brushed her teeth, and turned the light off before exiting the bathroom.

Her bed was closer to the bathroom, thank god. She turned down the covers to get into bed when she heard Spencer rustle and she froze.

He heard her stop moving, so he felt the need to reassure her, “I was just putting my book on the table, I’m not facing your direction.”

“Oh. Okay…” she continued getting into the bed, making sure to face away from him.

They both settled into bed. Him staring at the ceiling, her putting her headphones in (dangerous, she knew that, but even with her medication, she couldn’t sleep without noise), but before she started the music, she had one last thing to say.

“Spencer,” she whispered.

“Claudia.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t need any clarification. In fact, he didn’t even need a thank you, he felt it was an honor and a privilege to help someone so steadfast and sure of themselves. She trusted him to see her like that. He felt like he should be thanking her, but instead, he settled for:

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

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