#spare me this boredom.

[bugsoda]

someone take this device away from me i am much too tired to be dignified. pay this buffoon no mind.

[chuluoyi]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄

- sylus x reader

more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)

note: loosely a sequel to strictly (un)professional. how this snowballed into 3.8k... i don't really know :')

“Missus, please spare us!”

You shot an unamused look at the twins before you, who clasped their hands together, pleading for you to let them go.

“Why is it so difficult for both of you to say?” you hissed, crossing your arms together. “I’m not asking for much—just a recount of what happened!”

“Boss will have our tongues for this!” Kieran looked up at you, quivering. “No way, I want to live!”

“He’s terrifying…” Luke shuddered in fear, hugging himself. “You don’t know how frightening he is!”

You were holding both Luke and Kieran hostage, the tender preys, all because Sylus refused to reveal what you had been wanting to know these past few weeks.

“So you’re afraid of Sylus…” You fixed them with a steely glare. “But have you ever thought that if you don’t spill it now, I will be the one taking both your tongues?”

“—?! Missus, please!”

“Why are you bullying the twins?” A deep voice cut through the twins’ pitiful laments, and you let out an exasperated huff as your chance slipped away once more.

Speak of the devil, and Sylus shall appear. He looked at the scene before him as if you were all a bunch of kindergarteners.

Luke and Kieran immediately flocked to him. “Boss! Save us! She’s scary!”

And now you were suddenly the scary one. You rolled your eyes. "Your henchmen are useless."

Sylus glanced at you with a half smile, knowing what information you were squeezing the twins for. "Sweetie, just give it up. You'll find peace faster that way."

Was it wrong to be curious about what Sylus had been up to during the three weeks you were unconscious after the attack that literally took your life? Why was he being so secretive about it anyway?

“I know, you were so worried sick you didn’t even eat or sleep,” you taunted your lover with a wicked smile. “That’s why you won’t tell me about it.”

Sylus laughed outright. “Pftt. You’ve got quite the imagination. Good to know.”

Nothing much changed after that night of his confession—if you could call it that—to you. You were indeed no longer strictly his bedwarmer, but your banters stayed the same, if not even more sarcastic now.

“Chop chop, we have an auction to go to, sweetie.” Sylus placed his big hand on your head, amused. “Stop being a hissy kitten towards the poor twins and get ready, hmm?”

“I’ll definitely uncover it,” you shot him a resentful glare. “Just you wait and see.”

Such were your days with your true kindred-spirits lover. He would tease you during the day and turn you into a hot mess at night, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

In tonight's auction, you had one target: the broker for a new rising star firearms dealer. Sylus had been eyeing him, deducing his goods could be a nice addition to his armory.

And so, you went up to him. However...

“...Are you single, miss?”

Here we go again.

You forced a tight smile. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if we can stick to subject at hand.”

The man blinked, then quickly plastered on a wide grin to mask his surprise. “Oh yes! Yes, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted— well, I’d say this is a pretty solid MoU... but I’ll need to contact my boss first.”

This weirdo... you thought with boredom, is so transparent.

This wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with a situation like this. Granted, you were pretty and you knew it, but usually, more distinguished men would be a bit more subtle about it.

“Take all the time you need,” you encouraged smoothly, your eyes crinkling in an attempt to look friendly. “As you can see, Mr. Sylus has proposed the perfect bargain for this kind of dealings.”

“I wouldn’t argue with that. I assure you we’ll certainly try to accommodate his request.” The man nodded and gave you a meaningful look, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, what was your name again, miss?”

Your faux smile remained perfectly still as you replied, “Mephisto.”

The man’s eyes roved over you, and he grinned roguishly. “Right. Still, I never expected Mr. Sylus’ secretary to be as beautiful as you, Miss Mephisto...”

This was tedious. Your patience was tested with every leering look he gave you. Sylus must know this already, and he's somewhere laughing at the sight of you dealing with this creep.

“You flatter me too much, I’m average.”

“No, no! I mean it!”

He knows... yet he wouldn't do anything about it. Not that you would expect Sylus to barge in like a man blinded by envy, but still, he was insufferable for not coming to you just like he had for Miss Hunter back then.

The man kept droning on and on about himself and everything else that had nothing to do with the business deal, and you were this close to dropping him and using your Evol to shut him up when—

He then turned to you expectantly. “Oh, there is a dance! Miss, would you mind if I have your first dance?”

“Oh...”

And it occurred to you... why not spice things up a little?

Sylus’ dark crimson eyes narrowed silently as he watched both of you from the island table while savoring his glass of wine, before he let out a loud snort.

That vermin doesn’t have a clue he is playing with fire.

For most of your interaction, the firearms dealer’s broker kept giving you suggestive looks, and occasionally brushing his hand against yours on purpose. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and it was amusing to see how aggravated you looked the entire time.

Adorable. Sylus found you incredibly endearing these days, from your pouts to your glazed eyes whenever he thrusted into you—

You were oh so delectable… at least until he saw you holding that lesser man's arm, as he led you to the dance floor.

A deep frown immediately formed in his forehead.

“What are you scheming now?” Sylus scowled, half exasperated and half in disbelief. “You naughty cat.”

He was even more irked when he saw how casually you wrapped your arms around that vermin, twirling and pressing yourself against him in a waltz. Seeing him trying to hit on you was one thing, but for you to reciprocate was just plain unacceptable.

—and to his ire, your audacity continued throughout the night.

. . .

“Miss Mephisto, do you play pool?”

“I do.”

“Then, will you play with me?”

Sylus was now burning with tendrils of anger, watching you from a closer corner. He had seen the broker put his hands on you so many times that he had lost count—during the dance, mingling with other guests, and while sharing hearty laughs. All in all, you were acting as if you had forgotten he was even here.

You were threading on a very thin ice and whether you realized it or not... you didn't seem to care.

"Ah, I think your stance is a bit off..." And to make it worse, the broker was definitely seizing every chance he could, as there was nothing wrong with your form—you often accompanied Sylus playing pool, so you were a pro—and yet he still got behind you, trying to drape his arms around your body.

That was the last straw. Enough is enough.

Before Sylus realized what he was doing, he stormed over to where you were, yanked your arm forcefully, and effectively separated you from him. He didn’t give a damn about the horrified shout from the broker or the judging looks from other partygoers as he dragged you by the hand out of the ballroom.

“Sylus!” you nearly shrieked when he kicked open a door to a meeting room and locked it with his black-red mist. He pinned you against the wall, and crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Mmph!” You tried pushing him back, but he was stronger and held you in place, his tongue forcing your lips open as he pressed the back of your head toward him. His other hand slipped inside your dress—between your legs— two fingers in—

“—!” you couldn't even squeal as he devoured your mouth and the shock set in, feeling yourself getting aroused by the minute when his fingers did that scissoring thing and edged you further.

After he was done with your mouth, his hot lips trailed down to your neck and shoulder blades, sucking hard on several spots, making you gasp and moan.

"Hah... this... is the price to pay for testing me, sweetie," your lover growled his nickname for you with satisfaction as he noticed you trembling body, nibbling on your shoulder. "You want to get punished so badly, huh?"

"Ahh..." you threw your head back, clinging to him, grinding yourself against his fingers.

"Is it funny to you? Watching me see him touch you?" Sylus' unforgiving ruby eyes stared down at you like a lion eyeing its prey. "What an insolent little kitten you are..."

His fingers kept moving and thrusting inside you in an alarming speed, mercilessly hitting that one spot that could make you cry. He was seriously teaching you a lesson by forcing you to come undone right then and there.

"I-I...!" you tried to refute, but then you felt the knot inside you burst, and in the next second, you could feel yourself coming all over his fingers, shuddering, your breaths coming in pants.

Feeling faint, relief washed you when he pulled out his fingers. You leaned and clung onto him, pulling him closer, and Sylus finally saw what a mess he had turned you into.

Your glassy eyes focused solely on him, seemingly pleading—and those swollen lips, as well as the sizzling heat creeping up your cheeks—

“Ha,” he let out a low chuckle, a wicked grin curling his lips. “If I can still make you look like this, then I suppose I can forgive you.”

“You’re a meanie,” you mumbled breathlessly.

“You’re the mean one,” Sylus tutted with narrowed eyes, starting to pull away from you.

But then you pulled him close again and pressed your lips to his, this time with a gentleness that surprised him.

There was no malice or burning desire in your kiss. Strangely, it felt far more intimate. You pulled away, the heart-stopping swirls of his red eyes captivating you as you pressed your foreheads together.

“Needy, aren’t you, sweetie?” Sylus whispered, holding your gaze, his breath hot against your skin.

But right now, all of a sudden, you looked so vulnerable to him, as if any wrong word from his lips would shatter you. It made him almost feel guilty for manhandling you so roughly.

You didn’t respond, just wanting this closeness with him. Behind your snarky words and little schemes, this was what you wanted more than the release you just got. Sometimes, you still worried—did he want this too?

“What is it?” Sylus asked with a frown, seemingly concerned. “Talk. Tell me.”

“Nothing…” you replied in a small voice.

“Do you feel sick? Want to go back?”

You shook your head.

You weren’t usually this quiet. Sylus couldn’t help being restless at your sudden change. It felt awkward for him to do what he was about to do next, but instinctively, he figured it would comfort you a bit.

You felt a pang in your heart when he pulled away, but in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped you as he pressed you to him, burying your head against his sturdy chest.

For someone who deals with blood and gore, your body felt too soft and fragile, yet still fit perfectly in his arms. Though he had held you and made love to you many times before, it was only now that he truly noticed how small you were.

“You’re warm…” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of a whine.

So needy and pliant… for him.

“My woman is such an enduring mystery.” Sylus mused, sounding almost as if he were lamenting. “Sometimes she’s a brazen kitten without a shred of shame, but then she pulls stunts like this.”

Your heart picked up the pace. You are... his. That was right. You were his woman in every sense of the word now, and he wasn't shying away from it.

But to cover your embarrassment, you could only come up with, “Can you not refer to me as cat...?”

He shot you an irked glance. “No.”

“He calls me by your bird’s name.”

“...”

“Sylus, you can’t murder him. Your deal will go down the drain.”

“Tch.” Sylus blew out an annoyed sigh, glaring at you. “By the time I get back here, you’re going back with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes.”

Honestly you were exhausted, and you wanted to nothing more than a good sleep. But you couldn't just leave the broker without preamble because this deal depended on him, and Sylus too had some loose ends he had to tie before the two of you left.

Strangely, all eyes were on you when you returned to the ballroom. You wondered why as you navigated the crowd until you met the broker you had fooled in so many ways.

“Oh, Miss Mephisto, you’re back!” he was visibly and utterly drunk, and you cringed at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. But then you noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated on your—

Neck. You realized in horror.

“Oh... hic, t-that... I-I see,” he blabbered, coughing awkwardly as he stared at the marks on your neck. “Miss... so that man is... y-your lover...?”

“Uh...” It was a wonder he didn’t recognize Sylus at first glance. Perhaps it was because he was so infamous, but it astounded you how this person couldn’t even tell that it was him.

"I-I thought... w-we..." he hiccupped again heartbrokenly, before snatching a glass on the table. "Oh, I need more drink!"

You observed him, half cringing. "Sir, I just want to remind you that once the documents are signed—"

"Yeah, yeah! It will be done by the end of the week!" he yelled at you. "Miss, how about you have a drink too!?"

Suddenly, a glass of gin was shoved into your hand, and you let out an irritated sigh. Yeah, he might be right. A glass of alcohol would help you sleep better tonight, you figured, so you chugged it down.

"Huh...?" And it didn’t take you long to realize something was amiss. The dizzying sensation set in far too quickly, you felt so hot, and you had to lean on the table next to you to keep from falling.

“Are you okay...?” a waitress asked you with concern, but the only sound you could hear was your own violent heartbeat. Before you knew it, the glass in your hand slipped from your grasp and crashed into the floor.

"Oh, miss! Are you okay?!" the broker suddenly got a hold over your body. "Oh! It seems you aren't feeling well! Let me escort you to you room!"

Room? You barely discerned what happened when he led you out of the crowd. Your head spun terribly, and then suddenly throbbed, making you clutch it and cry out in pain, "Ah!"

It didn't make sense, no matter how you saw it. You had a pretty good tolerance, so for you to get hungover from a gin was just—

“Oh, does it hurt much?” he suddenly asked in your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t worry... it'll be bearable soon enough... I’ll make sure you will feel good…”

It's him! You realized. He spiked your drink!

His arms were now locking yours, steering you to go into the elevator. You took a deep breath before directing your speech manipulation evol on him— "Let go!"

He was immediately jerked away from you, but as a result, you almost crumpled, your vision swimming and your head pounding intensely. The pain made you feel close to passing out, and yet you managed to trek forward, leaning on the wall for support.

You had to get away from him before he could catch up to you. Panic set in, and when strong arms caught you, you convulsed, thinking he had grabbed you—

“Stop thrashing!”

“S-Sylus...?” You looked up, trying to focus on his face, but everything was so blurry.

“I’m here.” His voice was ragged, and you’d recognize it anywhere. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”

“M-my head...” Your voice came out as a broken whimper, clutching at your throbbing head. “Hurts...”

You were feverish, trembling against his hold, and you reeked of alcohol. Sylus instantly realized something was seriously wrong and pressed your head into his chest to provide comfort. “Just a little bit longer—” his deep voice carried a subtle hint of alarm as he hoisted you up to his arms. “Hang on, alright?”

But just as he was about to bring you back, he caught the sight of a fleeing silhouette in the corner, and realizing who it was, his right eye blazed, black and red mist swirled in the air and restrained the broker, engulfing his screams.

“S-spare me! P-please!” the man pleaded tearfully, pinned on the ground, and Sylus approached him silently, looking down at him with so much spite in his eyes.

“A roach that doesn’t seem to know his place…” The corners of his lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Whether you survive or not depends on you. Best hope you’ll last.”

Despite his pleas, he paid it no mind as he walked away with you in his arms.

When you awakened, your head was no longer pounding.

It took you a moment to realize there was a cool compress on your forehead, you were now in a clean oversized sweater, and someone was holding your hand.

Sylus. You looked up to find him asleep, sitting with his back against the headboard beside you. It was rare to catch him sleeping. In this moment, he looked defenseless, yet a faint frown lingered on his handsome face.

Has he been waiting for you like this, holding your hand all night...?

You tried to get a better look at him, but the rustle seemed to wake him up instead, as his eyes cracked open.

“You awake?” he asked, voice so sultry it woke all your senses up. “I was just shutting my eyes.”

“Aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping like that?” you asked.

Sylus turned toward you, his eyes still hazy from sleep. “What about you? Feeling better?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently.

“Really, you...” His stare was so withering it made question marks appear in your head. “I took my eyes off you for one minute, and you ended up with alcohol poisoning?”

“—? I didn’t know! But wait, what happened to that bozo?”

Sylus gave you a deadpan look, and you gasped. “You… didn’t kill him and have his body secretly disposed of, did you?”

“Just who do you think I am?”

“…a kingpin of an illegal syndicate?”

Your lover’s scowl deepened further at your response. “Nah, he got lucky. I only returned him with a broken jaw, broken hips, and two missing teeth.”

“Sylus!”

If he looked sleepy before, now he definitely looked wide awake. Sylus always sleeps at dawn, and you wanted him to rest more than anything, but now you were itching to ask him...

“Say... were you waiting for me while sitting like this too when I wasn’t conscious for three weeks?” You avoided his gaze, the question burning on your lips. Sylus had never given you a straight answer whenever you asked him about this.

This time too, he grumbled, “Why do you keep asking that?”

“Because I can’t ask Luke and Kieran, they look as if you’d set them on fire.”

Sylus went silent, not giving you any affirmation at all, and you huffed and unclasped his hand, pursing your lips together. “I see. You don’t care about me at all. Noted.”

You heard him sigh, before his red eyes squarely landed on you.

“When I was shot, you worried about me even when you know I’m going to be alright,” he suddenly posed the question on you. “Didn’t you?”

You nodded, and he tousled your hair again—the action alone somehow made you feel warm.

“Whatever you felt that day, that’s the same to what I went through during those three weeks. Multiply it by ten.”

“Huh!?” you rose up from the sheets in surprise, facing him.

Sylus then turned away from you, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. “That’s it, sweetie. I’m going back to sleep now.”

“Wait!”

You scrambled into his lap, clinging to his shoulder. Sylus begrudgingly opened his eyes again, a look of irritation on his face. “What?”

Multiply it by ten…? Heh. At this moment, you felt light and giddy, knowing that the two of you were now true lovers in every way that mattered even when you were faced with his sourness.

“Don't scowl too much!” you giggled merrily. You placed your fingers on the corners of his lips, gently lifting them to force a smile. “Honesty suits you much better, Sylus. It’s recommended.”

This cheeky woman... Sylus never thought the day would come for him to experience these myriad of emotions, much less for them to be incited by you.

He pulled you close, one arm around your hips and the other around the back of your head. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss that left no room for further conversation, only parting when you both needed to catch your breath.

“If you want me to, then don’t make me relive those nights,” he said with a sly smile, his crimson eyes glinting in the light and his voice like silk against your ears. “Can you?”

His tone softened your gaze, a warm sensation spreading through your chest. You responded with a playful snort, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him another peck on the lips.

After your innocent make-out session, you nestled closer to him with a contented sigh, savoring the reassuring warmth of his embrace as you both drifted off again into the morning.

Epilogue

"Do you hear anything?"

"No, nothing..."

Luke and Kieran whispered amongst themselves as they tried to hear anything of importance beyond Sylus' bedroom. After their boss went back home with you passed out in his arms last night, they had totally expected the worst.

“Seems like she’s alright then…” Kieran concluded, stepping away from the door. “We should just go. If Boss catches us, we’re dead.”

The twins backed away from the door and went back to the living room, sighing in relief.

"But honestly, Boss has changed lately, hasn't he? He looks kinder, somehow."

"Are you sure, Luke? Maybe it's just when he looks at the missus. With us, meh."

“I still get chills thinking about when he destroyed the Protofield to dust after he found her following the explosion,” Luke gazed off in wonder. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was also heartbreaking—especially when he tried to wake her and realized she was beyond help because the steel had pierced her heart…”

Luke and Kieran went quiet at the memory.

“Anyhow!” Kieran suddenly exclaimed. “All’s well that ends well! To be honest, I totally saw it coming that they'd end up together!”

“Ooh, you're right! They did a bad job of hiding it too, no less! I mean, one time, the missus came out of his room while—”

As the twins gossiped about their master and mistress, they were unaware that Mephisto the crow, perched nearby, was dutifully recording their conversation and would report it all to his master later.

[rizsu]

+ extra: canon-type family relations: jin itadori & sukuna are brothers, itadori is a child here ( 8 years ).

boyfriend-girlfriend life with sukuna except he thinks he's being replaced — in all seriousness. sukuna's seconds away from destroying his nephew's remote-controlled cars collection.

can the kid move? he wants yuuji gone. he's not jealous of him, he just wants your undivided attention back on him. if he knew beforehand that agreeing to jin's invitation over would result in this, he'd probably fly out of the country with you to avoid it.

manspreading on the sofa with one hand slung over the backrest, he swirls the beer in his other hand. his brother's in the kitchen, stacking the extra beers in the fridge.

“you can help me, you know?” jin calls sukuna out, lacing his voice with slight annoyance.

“nah,” sukuna responds, waving him off.

he's busy watching you sit on the floor with yuuji, pretending to race against time with him.

it's not all that bad when he thinks about it — never mind, it is. the kid's had you on the floor since you walked through the door. not a moment spared for his uncle. all yuuji did was look up at sukuna, stick his tongue out, and engulfed your legs in a big hug.

ever since then he's been sulking in the corner. jin can only pity him for so long — it's been an hour, he needs to get over it.

jin sneaks up behind sukuna, gathering his fingers to surprise attack him. in only a matter of seconds he's subjected to the ear-pinch-and-ring combination.

sukuna flinches, immediately swatting jin's hand off.

“you must've gone fucking crazy!?”

he gets yet another ear-pinch-and-ring combination from jin.

“i have a son, don't curse.”

“fuck that boy,” he whispers under his breath, cupping his ear. it's hot from the pain — most likely already gained a red shade.

even after such commotion both yuuji's and your attention didn't turn to them. you both are far too immersed in the racing game.

the brothers are now both on the sofa: one has his attention on you and the other has his attention on the unattended mail on the coffee table that's been neglected two days ago.

“this one? no... that one? also no...”

“jin, quit mumbling.”

“cover your ears then.”

rolling his eyes, sukuna downs the last bit of beer remaining in the bottle. he's now officially out of beer and too lazy to get one.

being left without a distraction, he's forced to observe jin's house. it's nothing extraordinary. he believes his house to be better.

he voices out a sigh, slouching and spreading his legs further apart. the boredom's hitting him earlier than it usually does — this is your fault. if you weren't busy zooming cars around the living room with yuuji then he wouldn't be bored.

as sukuna's busy with complaining, he doesn't notice yuuji speed walking to the sofa with a broken car in hand. you're right behind him, sporting a smile that says you got yourself in some trouble.

“daaad, the car!” yuuji whines, climbing onto the free spot between his dad and his uncle.

jin hums, raising his eyebrows but his gaze is fixed on the mail as he's still sorting them out.

“it broke,” the boy complains, pouting at the toy.

“it lost control and rammed into the wall,” you explained further, sitting on the armrest on sukuna's side.

sukuna's arm fixes itself around your hips. he's slightly smirking at the news.

that doesn't go unnoticed by you. you're more than familiar with your boyfriend's joy at other's misery. you shot him a glare with a light tap on his shoulder.

“is that so?” jin's attention is now fully on his boy. he takes the glasses off, pulling yuuji onto his lap.

taking the car into his hand, he inspects the damages. it's not too much, and it's fixable.

“dad will fix it later, okay,” reassuring yuuji, jin ruffles his hair.

yuuji nods, jumping down from his dad's lap to return to the toys. as he's on his way, he turns, appearing to have suddenly remembered something.

“(y/n), come play with me!”

“no, she won't,” sukuna answers for you, ignoring the harder hit you gave him on his shoulder.

“i'll be right there, yuuji,” this time you answer, giving him a warm smile and a thumbs up.

“give the boy a fucking brother,” sukuna grumbles, looking at jin with pure annoyance.

jin shoots his brother a smile, giving him no reply before he goes back to reading the final mail of the bunch.

[seelestars]

caught wearing their clothes ?! (argenti, aventurine, sunday)

a/n : isn’t it kinda funny all 3 of them have boss forms? (´-ω-`) we don’t talk abt the way argentis part is the shortest </3

argenti

it was a nice afternoon, perfect for going out with loved ones. though, even with such lovely weather, you felt bored to death waiting for argenti. so naturally, you would search for ways to cure your boredom while waiting for argenti’s return.

that’s how you got yourself in your current situation—getting caught wearing a spare set of argenti’s usual armor as he returned.

“you look absolutely stunning in my outfit, dearest.” his soft voice startled you, causing you to freeze and immediately turn towards him. your face was practically the color of his hair, as you had never meant for him to see you like this.

“a-argenti! back so early?” you let out a nervous laugh, averting your gaze out of the embarrassment you were feeling.

“is something the matter, dearest? why so nervous? afraid I might scold you for wearing my clothes?” your embarrassment and nervousness seems to elicit a hearty chuckle out of him as he takes a few steps closer to you, extending a rose towards you. “if it’s that you’re worried about—then fear not—as I believe your beauty could rival even the goddess idrila no matter what you wear.” argenti smiles as he softly reassured you.

his words only served to make you flush further, his flattering compliments making your heart race faster. “…you really think so?” originally, you were quite worried about what he’d think if he saw you in this state. but with such kind demeanor and reassurance, how could anyone resist having an ego boost?

“of course, there is no need for me to lie to you.” argenti’s smile widens as he decides to insert the rose behind your ear. “though, I do believe the attire I would love seeing you in the most is attire fit for our wedding one day.”

aventurine

this was your lucky moment! aventurine was currently out attending an ipc meeting, which meant you were left all alone. being left alone gave you many opportunities—specifically an opportunity to borrow his spare clothes and have some fun with it.

as you looked yourself over in the mirror, you had to admit you looked nice in aventurine’s usual clothes. you even chose to take a pair of his glasses and one of his hats to fully immerse yourself in the experience! his outfit was quite flamboyant and was definitely flashy, usually catching the attention of many.

wearing his outfit made some mischievous ideas slowly start to come to life as you made the choice of mocking him in his clothes.

“I always win in my gambles, so naturally I’ll bet my entire bank account! i’m just a stupid, careless, mindless gambler—“ suddenly, you were cut off by the sound of the door opening as aventurine stands there in the doorway, arms crossed with an amused smirk on his lips as he leans against the doorframe.

“hmm… so this is how you choose to kill time while i’m away, huh?” aventurine laughs as he approaches you, observing the way you looked in his clothes. “i have to say, you look quite good like this. I’m surprised you’re bold enough to rock a little window like me, though~” he narrows his eyes, glancing at you playfully as his words made your cheeks flush.

“even your little impression of me was fun to witness. but, it says a lot about you as a person, doesn’t it? if I’m a stupid, careless, mindless gambler, then what does that make you for being attracted to me?” aventurine teases, making your jaw drop as you find yourself scrambling for a response.

“don’t get ahead of yourself now. i’m certainly not attracted to you.” you retort, despite the fact that the both of you knew very well that your words were a blatant lie.

“oho? is that how it is? then let’s see just how much you’re ‘not attracted to me’ once I start doing this…” aventurine’s chuckle sends a shiver down your spine as he begins to lean closer to your lips, his hand making its way down to your hips.

sunday

you had some time before sunday arrived home, and coincidentally, you spotted spare pairs of sunday’s usual attire as you were searching for something to occupy yourself with.

unfortunately, you weren’t a halovian like sunday. so after you had finished putting on his clothes, you had to find a way to improvise when it came to his wings and halo. messily, you began to draw outlines for his wings and halo on some paper. you then colored them in, planning to cut them out and find a way to use them.

just as you were about to tape the paper wings behind your ears, you heard sunday’s voice as he stepped into the house.

you tried to clean everything up and change, but it was too late. you had already been caught.

“ah? is this what I think it is? is the love of my life trying to impersonate me?” sunday jokes light-heartedly, his pleasant laugh filling your ears as you look away shyly. “you even went so far as to make a fake pair of wings and halo… you’re very dedicated if I do say so myself.” he smiles softly as he takes a few steps closer to you, humming as he admired you.

“this was a dumb idea… you’re still the one that looks the best when wearing these clothes.” you laugh awkwardly, a sheepish look in your eyes as he admires you. his attention being completely directed on you at a moment like this seemed to be the most embarrassing possible timing.

“no need to be so embarrassed about all of this, my love. I don’t mind this at all.” sunday shakes his head, hoping his words will reassure you as he lightly pats your head. “in fact, I’d say you look just about ready to replace me as the head of the oak family.” he lets out an amused chuckle at the idea, his mind already painting an image of you leading the family like he currently did.

“then… what would I be missing?” a sigh of relief escapes you at his reassurance before you decided to reply with a more light-hearted tone.

“firstly, you’ll need to learn the proper etiquette, my love. mm.. but I suspect with someone as capable as you, it won’t be hard teaching you how to replace me.” sunday gazes at you with a look filled with fondness. “but at the end of the day, I like you best when you’re being yourself. so there is no need to delve into topics that involve becoming like me or someone else.”

[sukunasteeth]

Wrestle Me

Tokyo had reached record temperatures that day. The sun was roasting the city, every street was a mirage from the bending light of its shine. The weather recently had been sending everyone either inside or to the nearest water source.

Yuji had gone to the beach with Megumi and Nobara in a futile attempt to escape the heat that had Japan in the sweaty palm of its hand. They had offered you and Sukuna a spot on the railway car there, but you knew that Sukuna was too exhausted from his recent missions to do any sort of going out. Not to mention the draining effect of the heat stacked on top of that. You were in the mood to just enjoy each other's presence.

The two of you were sheltered away in the darkness of his bedroom, lying sprawled out across the floor in front of his small rotating fan. Sukuna and Yuji never turned the A/C on. Since they had moved into their own apartment, the brothers had become rather stingy when it came to the bills. The air didn't start up until the room felt like a sauna, and it turned off much too soon to give relief.

Sweat continued to drip down the both of your spines, but Sukuna didn't seem to mind it. He was enjoying the peace of his day off, dressed against the heat in nothing but his boxer briefs and a tank top. He had his head resting in the cushion of your lap, his eyes were transfixed on an old leather notebook that he had stolen from one of the professors a few days ago. It was in a language you hadn't taken at the academy yet, but Sukuna tells you it was early notes on jujutsu from the old world.

You had been scrolling through your phone, occasionally showing him something you found amusing or anything that reminded you of him. He only gave you a reaction to maybe 10% of the material, but it was fun to see him roll his eyes, or scoff and wave your phone away.

The longer you remained in the same spot,however, the sweatier you felt and the more frustrated with the heat. You tried not to squirm under Sukuna's head, remaining as still as possible as though he were a sleeping animal taking refuge on your lap. Boredom, however, eventually pulls the last straw that has you stirring.

An idea comes to mind.

Sukuna glances up at you, as though he expects you to show him something else on your phone, but instead his attention is caught by the mischievous glint you feel twinkling in your eye.

"Wrestle me." You beam at him.

It was somewhat of a joke.

Compared to your boyfriend, it was clear who would win in a pinning tournament between the two of you.

 Sukuna, who enjoys kickboxing in his spare time. Sukuna, who has never missed an opportunity for a fight in the decade that you've known him, who could dead-lift your torso with ease if he so desired.

Sukuna, who has never touched you with anything but heart wrenching gentleness.

His eyes widen at your command, the notebook he had previously found so interesting has been completely forgotten. He seems to catch the drift of your lack of entertainment, and quickly plays along. His surprise melts into an amused little smile.

"Oh yeah? Think you got a chance, kid?" He taunts, placing the book beside him. His attention now fully focused on you.

You snort, you were only a year younger than he was, but he loved to emphasize it when he could. Sukuna mistakes your noise as a scoff and cocks a daring brow at you.

You love when he’s in a playful mood.

"I could take you any day." You tease. Part of you is running for the hills inside, but another part is having fun with the big bad wolf. That was the constant state you were in with him. Sukuna didn't even have to try and he always had your heart racing.

Sukuna makes an impressed noise, "That, I'm well aware of. I don't know about in a fight, though."

You groan at his joke, shaking your head in disappointment, but Sukuna grabs onto your chin before you can get even one turn of your head out.

"Let's find out."  

~

Ten minutes later, you're drenched in twice the amount of sweat as you were before, but Sukuna has barely lost a drop. He's got you twisted like a pretzel beneath him, holding your limbs in just the right way so that you're completely incapacitated in his hands.

Your first mistake was thinking Sukuna knew how to play-fight. The only person he had been remotely close with in your childhood was his twin brother, and the two of them had often "wrestled", but it only ended when one of them had blood dripping out of their noses. You learned early on not to question it. Having two boys as your childhood best friends had you turning your gaze from a lot of things, in fact.

The only thing you questioned now, was how you were going to get out of your current predicament. You were sure Sukuna was having a blast practically hogtying you with his hands, and now he knew how easy it was to get you in this position. It was a double whammy that would surely effect you in the future. 

"Did you really think I'd go easy on you?" The weight of his chest presses into your back as he leans over you, sending hot breath over your neck. "How cute."

"Okay, okay! I give!" You whine, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. You had to admit that it was getting slightly painful, but Sukuna was well aware of your pressure points and where to stay away from. You still had one last trick up your sleeve, however.

Satisfied with your surrender, he nips at your ear with his teeth before he slides off of you and relinquishes his effortless grip. Before he can fully turn away, however, you're leaping onto his back like a monkey and tackling him into his mattress. It was a dirty tactic, but you had been wrestling your childhood best friend Yuji since the two of you were in elementary school, so you were no stranger to tricks of the trade. Especially the feign defeat card.

He blinks up at you. It was a difficult task to take Sukuna off guard, but you had accomplished it.

"Sucker." You playfully stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry. Inside your chest, your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s wings. It’s almost like Sukuna knows this, because even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s still looking at you with an amused grin- unaffected by your change of position. 

"You have a higher pain tolerance than I thought you did." He notes, tilting his head to the side like he's considering something. "What can we do with that new information, I wonder?" 

It was another intimidation tactic. A good one. It had chills running down your spine. But, you weren’t going to let him win so easily this time. Suddenly, you were interested in how far you could push him, as well. 

"Come on 'Kuna," You chide, your nose is practically touching his- a rabbit pressing against the snout of a hungry wolf. "Can't take defeat, my love?"

"Oh doll," His voice is a husky drawl, rough hands slide their way from their resting places on your hips to slip under the hem of your shirt and brush the skin of your waist. You try to contain your shiver. "You're playing a very dangerous game."

One last wave of confidence sweeps through you as you lean down, just like he always did, to murmur lowly into his ear. "And you're losing."

That did it.

Sukuna grabs onto your waist so quickly, you barely have time to register it before he loops his leg around your knee and easily flips the two of you back to your original position. You're giggling beneath him as he gathers your face into his hands, pressing calloused fingers into your cheeks. You've gotten under his impenetrable skin. You didn't know it, but you always did.

No matter how strong a man is, he will always lose to the woman he loves.

Sukuna was slowly starting to accept that.

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

Girls Castellan might like

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Athena kid!Reader

Summary: After talking to Annabeth, you try to figure out who Luke likes. And what would be the best way to do this other than a list?

Warnings: fluff, english is not my native language

Word Count: 2.6k

First when you had arrived, Camp Half-Blood sounded like a dream. A place where you were finally safe, thanks to Mr. D. the weather was always good and there were many activities. But after some time, doing always the same stuff got boring. Learning ancient Greek, cleaning stables, Pegasus riding, picking strawberries, Sword and archery training, Volleyball, Capture the Flag, swimming in the lake, and campfire singalongs. Every week it was the same. Thanks Aphrodite, you were all hormonal teenagers and at least there was sometimes exciting drama at camp.

Like right now, you were sitting at breakfast, and you couldn't help but notice, that Lucy, Daughter of Aphrodite, was glaring holes in the back of Luke Castellan’s head. Clutching the knife firm that her knuckles were white, she looked as if she was about to jump up and pounce on the Hermes cabin counselor. A big contrast to yesterday, when they couldn't keep their hands off each other around the campfire. So, what happened in the darkness of the night?

"You see it too?”, you asked your half-sister Annabeth curious, who already had assessed the whole situation.

“It’s not surprising, she isn’t his type.”

“Not his type?”, you echoed taken aback.

Before Luke and Lucy were a thing, only for ten days but still a thing, he had something with one of Lucy’s half-sisters. There had been a lot of drama, when Luke had ended things with Stephanie and was seen kissing Lucy three days later. It had been a lot of fun, maybe except for Luke, Stephanie, and Lucy. But back to the actual situation, after this story, everybody, you too, though that Luke’s type were beautiful girls, preferable daughters of Aphrodite. And who could blame him? They were otherworldly pretty.

“He likes feisty girls who are good fighters”, Annabeth told you unaffected while picking at her bacon with her fork.

“How do you know that?”

Annabeth and Luke were close, like siblings. But you couldn’t imagine neither Annabeth nor Luke lying down on one of their beds and talking about girls.

“Because he is so obvious.”

If she said so. You hadn't noticed it yet, but maybe you hadn't looked closely either. You had wanted to spare yourself the pain.

“And who does he like?”, you dared a short look at Luke, who was laughing about something Chris had said. Seeing this, you couldn’t help it, your lips pulled up to a small smile. Next to you Annabeth rolled her eyes. But you only had eyes for the pretty head counselor of cabin 11.

“Won’t tell you”, astonished you teared your eyes of Luke and looked to your little sister. A smug smile was dancing around her mouth. “You always complain that you're bored.  Perhaps finding it out may help you battle your boredom.”

You immediately regretted complaining to her about your boredom at the start of your breakfast. This was now her revenge.

“Can you at least tell me if it’s a girl or a boy.”

“A girl, that's the only tip you get.”

Like every organized person you started your research with a list. Your list with the very fitting title ‘Girls Castellan might like’ included every girl at camp, except the ones who were too young and the girls you knew, were bad at fighting.

Next your research led you in the arena, where Luke was teaching sword fight. Clutching your list, like it was your most prized possession, you searched for a good place to keep an eye on everything. With a little bit of luck, you would be able to watch, how Luke was interacting with some of the girls on your list and could draw further conclusions from this.

You weren’t the only one, who came just to watch the practice. A few seats away sat a few daughters of Aphrodite. And you quickly understood why.

Holding a sword Luke was a force to be reckoned with. His movements were smooth as butter, and you couldn’t help noticing his muscles tensing under his shirt as he performed various exercises. Your gaze unconsciously slipped to his large hands, which were loosely holding the sword. After years of wielding a sword, they must be covered with calluses. How would it feel, if his callused hands would wander over your body, cupping your hips to pull you closer to him?

“What are you scheming?”

An all too familiar voice snapped you out of your daydream. Caught like a deer in headlights you looked up to Luke Castellan, who was standing right in front of you. Just looking at his hands, you could feel a blush slowly creeping up. Damn hormones.

“I’m not scheming”, you protested while stuffing the list hastily in the back pocket of your jeans shorts.

“Sure, that's why you're hiding the note”, amused Luke’s brown eyes sparkled. And what beautiful eyes he had. Stop! You had to concentrate! “Besides kids of Athena don’t just sit around and watch people, you lot are always scheming.”

“If you say so”, trying to seem cool, you shrugged your shoulders. “But that’s not why you came here.”

“Always so wise, fancy a fight?”

„There is no way I will beat you with a sword.”

And why fight if you already knew that you would lose? That wasn’t your style. You and your half-siblings knew better than that.

“What about hand-to-hand combat?”

Now you were talking! In hand-to-hand combat you could stand a chance.

“So desperate to lose, Castellan?”, you teased trying to drive away the nervousness that had settled in your bones. Sometimes you hated the nervousness Luke Castellan made you feel in his present, but looking at him, you knew, that you could never hate him.

“When it comes to you, I’m always desperate”, there was a time, were words like that form Luke’s lips, had made your heart flatter. That was before you realized that he was just a big flirt and wasn’t serious. But now, older, and wiser, you just rolled your eyes, before you motioned for him to follow you down in the arena.

“Flirting will not help you to win.”

Luke just shrugged, “Doesn't hurt trying.”

Yours and Luke’s hand-to-hand combats were famous around the camp. Luke had quick reflexes, was tall and full of muscles, while you were a strategic mastermind, always three steps ahead. And none of you shied away from getting down and dirty. Therefore, it was no surprise, that a ring of onlookers had already formed before one of you could throw the first punch. Besides, you were too focused to really mind it. You had already fought against Luke so often, that it felt more like a rehearsed dance than a fight. Maybe this was your way of dancing. While the Aphrodite girls danced around the bonfire, you danced in an arena to the music of your own heartbeat.

Like always it was Luke who opened the fight. With one large strike he closed the distanced between you and tried to punch you in your face, so your hands would go up, and he could kick you in your belly. Seeing this coming, you caught his hand with yours and while he lifted his leg, your swiped yours under his other one to bring him down. Letting go of his hands, you watched with a smile, how the tumbled down to the floor. But instead of going after him, you gave him the time you stand up. He was stronger than you, so you wanted to avoid wrestling with him on the floor so early at all costs, it would only end badly for you. First, he had to get tired, and none knew better that you how to wear down Luke Castellan.

His next three punches you easily dodged and then you stroke. Letting go of a flurry of blows it was Luke’s turn to block. For a moment you just exchanged blows, neither of you managed to blow the other's cover. But then Luke clipped the side of your face and while hot pain shot through your left cheek, you stumbled back. However, as fast as he punched you, you recovered. Dipping under his outstretched arm, you twisted said arm in a painful angle. You could hear his sharp inhale. And maybe it brought you a little bit of joy. But before you knew what happened, Luke had knelt and thrown you over his shoulder. To everyone's surprise, including yours, you somehow managed to land on your feet. Taking advantage of the chance that his face was still near your knees, you rammed your knee into his nose, drawing first blood. Both of you watched stunned how it dripped down from his chin to the floor, where it mixed with the sand. You had won sooner than any of you thought.

“It was a good fight, sorry about your nose”, you winced, but Luke just waved you off.

“It’s fine.  I would have preferred it if you had won the fight with a tackle, but that's the way it is.”

Before you could respond a pretty girl from cabin 10 rushed to Luke with a handkerchief in her hands, and you were forgotten. Not wanting to watch Luke soaking up her attention, you retreated.

Only when you had left the arena and wanted to reach for your list, you found it missing.  As if struck by lightning, you froze. You were pretty sure, that you didn’t lose the list. If it had fallen out of your pocket, you would have seen it lying on the floor, you were sure of it. That could only mean one thing. Just thinking about it made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you. Hot panic shot up your back and you felt like screaming. Someone had stolen your list, without you even noticing.  There was only one person who got close enough to you to do this and at the same time had the nimble fingers required, Luke Castellan.

At dinner, you were sulking in self-pity while you were trying very hard to look everywhere except at a certain table. Maybe if you would not draw his attention for a week or maybe two, he would forget about the list. Or at least you could pretend that he forgot. The other option was, that you would flee from camp and never look back. Considering the monsters that lurked outside the borders for young demigods, the first was clearly the safer option.

The fear that he would share the list with all the campers, and they would laugh at you, gnawed at you, that you couldn't swallow a bite. Your throat felt like it was tight up, yet it was your hands who were tight up. You couldn’t do anything besides waiting for the storm to blow over, and you hated it.

Your thoughts got interrupted by a paper plane which landed perfectly in front of you. Surprised, your head shot up, and your eyes locked with a pair of dark brown ones. Sending you a wink, Luke dived into conversation with his siblings, and you couldn’t help but groan. His father was the messenger god, if Luke wanted to convey a message, he could do it by paper plane without any problems.

Torn you looked at the paper plane. Did you really want to know what he had to say? What if he just wanted to make fun of you? But if not? With shaking hands, you picked up the paper. Your mum was Athena, goddess of war, you wouldn't hide from Castellan, you would face this fight. Determinedly unfolding the paper, your eyes scanned the list spread out in front of you. You knew this list; you had written this list. Everything was how you had left it, beside one thing. Luke has crossed out the ‘might’ in the title and had replaced it with a ‘doesn't’ in his scraggly handwritten. Now the new title of your list read as ‘Girls Castellan doesn't like ‘.    

A few days passed and you weren’t wiser. There must be a mistake! The list you made included every girl, that could fight and wasn’t a child. If Annabeth wasn't wrong, Luke had to like one of them. And Annabeth was never wrong. Crouching on your bottom lip you looked down on the list in your hands.

You were sitting in the grass near the strawberry fields, the sun was warming your face. When you weren't busy avoiding Luke, you were thinking about the list and its meaning. By changing the title Luke hinted, that he didn’t like any of the girls on the list. You had double and triple checked it, you hadn’t forgotten anyone. But Annabeth couldn’t be wrong, that had never happened before. It was maddening. It was like a riddle you were too dumb to solve, and you hated it. You were a daughter of Athena for god’s sake. Right now, you were possible one of her greatest shames, if she was interested enough in you to know what you were up to.

Before more negative thoughts could fill your mind, a shadow appeared over you. As you looked up, calluses hands stole the list out of your fingers. Groaning you faced none other than Luke Castellan.

“Still trying to find out who I fancy?”, he asked with a shit eating grin, and you couldn’t help but blush. But before you exposed yourself any further, you went into offense. As well known, attack was the best defense.

“You mislead me intentional”, you accused him. “The list includes every girl from camp. If Annabeth not wrong, you must like one of them.”

And you both knew Annabeth was never wrong.

“Actually, you forgot one person on your little list.”

That couldn’t be. You checked the list, more than once. You hadn’t! But it wouldn’t hurt to check the list another time.

“Give me the list”, you demanded, but Luke just hold the list over his head out of your reach. This was how he wanted to play it? Fine by you. Springing to your feet, you reached for the list, but Luke was taller than you. Tiptoeing you unconsciously moved closer to Luke. You first realized how close you were, as he wrapped his arm around your waist. Fighting a blush you hold your breath. You were so close, that Luke could certainly feel your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

“You are missing from the list”, he whispered, and you just could gape. That was too good to be true. That must be a dream.

“Because you can’t fancy me.”

“Why not?”

Truly confused, Luke furrowed his brows. Never had you seen him like this, and slowly you realized that he wasn’t joking. He didn’t want to trick you, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. Had you not wished for this for a long time?

“I’m not pretty like the Aphrodite girls you dated”, you confessed your insecurity. But Luke didn’t want to hear anything about it.

“In my eyes you are. You are tougher, braver, smarter, and far more beautiful. You are perfect. Can I kiss you?”

Lost for words, you could just nod. Carefully taking your face in his hands, he stroked back your hair, before lowering his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet, slow and everything you ever wanted. Sadly, it was over way too fast.

“I’m very glad Annabeth told me to help you with your project, on the day we fought. Otherwise, I wouldn't have stolen your list”, Luke confessed, still caressing your face. Oh, you see what she did there.

“Seems like she did set us up. Should we prank her for this?”

“Did I already tell you, that you are perfect?”            

[yandere-sins]

Can I request a reluctant reader taking care of a very sick yandere? Yandere can be any character of ur choice >.< tyia

Thanks for requesting! ^-^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"You're hurt..."

The stench of blood, dirt, and sulfur filled the air in the underground hideout as you climbed off your bed, the heavy metal around your ankles rattling when you moved. You watched as the silver-haired man collided with the wall before sinking to the floor, his body sparely illuminated but his hair shining brightly, giving away his position. Your gut churned with hesitance, with the instinctive need to avoid all evil—especially the one that had threatened and abducted you. But it had been so long since he left. So long that you've been stowed away in secret. You were, unfortunately, drawn to him like a moth to the light.

Even though you kept your distance from your captor, your words barely a whisper as if not to disturb the man sitting on the ground, holding the side of his stomach, Calcharo flinched at the sound of your voice, cranking his head back to look at you. His gaze was unreadable, his whole face a mask free of emotions. But judging by the pool of blood collecting next to him, the wound must have hurt, even if he showed no signs of it.

"I promised I'd be back—" he mumbled as a ripple of tension tightened his muscles, everything in him readying his body to get up from his spot. As if greeting you properly was needed at that moment. But with his teeth bared, the gaping wound stole all of his strength, making him sack back to the dusty ground with a muffled groan.

"Give me a moment. It'll heal."

Curiosity killed the cat as you stretched your neck, bile rising to the top of your throat at the nasty sight of the gash. Even Calcharo's big hands—that you remembered so vividly squeezing and pulling at your body—weren't enough to cover the wound completely, blood soaking all of his clothes and staining the floor. Wasn't there medicine for that kind of injury? Although, seeing a doctor would probably be more appropriate. If it wasn't for the awkward situation you were in, you'd have freaked out at even the thought of seeing someone so badly injured, yet all you could do was stand in one spot, a good five steps out of his reach.

Even when you fiddled with your hands, wrenching and holding them, you were less anxious, knowing he wasn't in the condition to harass you that day. He'd been gone for a while, leaving you to your own devices and the evergrowing boredom. But you were still undecided if you preferred him being back and constantly hovering over you, watching and testing your reactions, or the loneliness and isolation you experienced, chained up and hidden away who-knew-where when he was gone. Both were unideal; both were destructive behavior on his part. You didn't have much choice in it, but him coming back severely injured was a situation you hadn't grown accustomed to yet.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

His head jerked upwards, eyes narrowing at you suspiciously. Yeah... you surprised yourself, too. You weren't the type to offer help, especially not to him. You were his captive, nothing more, nothing less.

"Or not..." Hands falling to your side, you fiddled with the seam of your shirt instead, avoiding his gaze as always. To Calcharo, you were an object to be observed, one he owned now but still couldn't help but expect to be betrayed by. As if you were going to pull a knife out any second now and stab him, even after he immobilized you with the chains around your legs. He was that kind of man; that much you had learned about him, even if it barely seemed to graze the surface. You began hating the feeling of his eyes on you the moment he revealed himself to you in this shabby hideout, his gaze so incisive it hurt. As if his eyes were daggers that he dragged through your flesh, stabbing over and over in an attempt to rip out your soul for him to observe.

"There are some bandages behind the mirror in the bathroom."

Torn from your thoughts, you couldn't help but stare back at him, even as his head fell forward again, his gaze disappearing. You two didn't have that kind of relationship. You didn't help him when he was in need, so you felt surprised at the simple instructions. They held no weight as if he didn't care whether you followed them or not—as if he expected you not to, rightfully so. Glancing at the blood, you thought that a bandage might be useless, that he needed stitches at least. But Calcharo said nothing more, pressing his palm harder against the wound without making another sound. Your head turned towards the door leading to the bathroom, and although it felt wrong to consider helping him, a compassionate part of you recognized that he needed you, your feet slowly turning away, picking up the pace as you disappeared from his sight.

The mirror caught your reflection as you flicked on the light. You had seen better days that much was sure. You weren't famished, the bags under your eyes more from anxiety and stress than lack of sleep. However, the green glow of the light didn't do you any favors either, and although you didn't think of yourself as ugly, you could only wonder what your kidnapper saw in you that he had to take such drastic measures. You were just you. That seemed to have been enough for him, even if it was strange.

The chain around your ankle felt twice as heavy as you wondered how long you'd be in this situation. Would you ever be free? Would he let you go if you helped him? Calcharo had always been silent when you asked him for his reasons. He'd sit by your bedside and wipe away your tears if you cried, begging him to be reasonable, but he never gave you the answers to console you. That was the kind of man you had offered help to. Someone so cold and selfish.

Opening the cabinet, you realized you had never looked behind the mirror before. Why? you wondered, but you were surprised at the amount of medical equipment. There were a couple of first aid kits and a box of resonator-only medicine and tools. He had every shelf stocked fully, and although he only asked for a bandage, you took at least one of everything you could find.

Calcharo was eerily quiet when you returned to his side. It made your pulse rise momentarily as you feared he might have died in the minute you were gone. The chain you were strung to clattered as you ran over, dropping to your knees next to his, dropping some of the extra weight from your arms to the floor in a moment of panic. You realized your closeness too late, anxiety shivering down your spine with how little distance there was between you two. But your focus shifted instantly, relief filling you as Calcharo looked up at you again, his eyes dropping to the items crammed between your arms and body. He scanned over your haul, and you immediately felt silly for worrying about him at all. He was perfectly fine, it seemed.

But what would you have done if he died?

You didn't know how to get out of here in the first place. Calcharo had never shown you any keys to undo your chains or to open any doors. There were no windows, and if you got out, there was no guarantee you wouldn't be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by Tacet Discords going for your throat. These thoughts made your heart sink with a sense of panic as if reality was finally hitting you over your head. Or perhaps it was the thought of living with a corpse until you found your demise here as well. Either way, you were glad when he reached for one of the packages, revealing some round pills that he slipped between his lips, glancing up at you for a moment as if to make sure you were watching him swallow them. You fiddled with the medical utensils until you found another package, wanting to give it to him, but he shook his head as you held it out.

"Just use the bandage."

"You want me to do it?" you asked, reluctant to simply act. Glancing at the first aid kit, you were sure you'd find some there, but so far, Calcharo had always handled himself around you. Even when you had an outburst, trying to hit him, he'd let you slap him across the face rather than stop you. You'd half-expected him to retaliate when you stumbled back, recognizing his strength as superior and bracing for the impact, but it never came. He had always remained calm and composed, even with the glowing red hand-mark across his cheek.

It was the same with food or bathing. Calcharo always had enough rations stocked, and if he was back at the hideout, he made you meals all the time, only eating your leftovers or getting something for himself after you had your share. And he never took a shower first, ensuring you had all the warm water that would eventually turn cold (sometimes you let it run out of protest). You thought it might have simply been resourcefulness, but you began overthinking your beliefs now that he wanted you to do something for him.

"Are you sure?" you asked him again. There was a sense of exhaustion when he looked up at you, and much to your own surprise once more, you quickly snatched the first aid kit when he reached for it. "I can do it! Just didn't think you'd want me to..."

Calcharo let out a short grunt before lowering his arm again, not fighting you on this, but his eyes followed every one of your movements as you fiddled with the first aid kit. Ridden with sudden determination, you almost dropped all the contents on the undoubtedly nonsterile floor, only catching the bandage midair while some of the tools clattered to the ground. Quick as lightning, Calcharo caught a small pair of scissors before they could graze your leg, his bloody fist wrapping around it so tightly, you could see his knuckles whiten through the red sheen.

You gulped, watching him drag the scissors and his arm back to his side, too afraid to straighten your gaze and see the wound in full glory. When you agreed that you could do it, you had temporarily forgotten about the truly gut-wrenching part of medical treatment, and suddenly, you were even less sure about all of this.

Calcharo grumbled under his breath, noticing your sudden stiffness. His free hand reached out to touch yours. "Open it," he muttered, and his words put your body into motion. Following his instructions was so much easier than working through the thoughts that made you hesitate. He grabbed the start of the bandage from your hands once you unwrapped it, waiting for you to get onto what he was doing as he placed it over his naval before pressing it down onto the wound.

There was some visible comfort in the way his shoulders rose tensely as he covered the wound, but he dragged the now bloody bandage over the gash with skilled precision. As if he had done this countless of times, and you were almost certain he had. You reckoned that his life must not have been easy if he got so used to hurting himself for the sake of simply healing. But you quickly reminded yourself not to sympathize with him. To not forget how he wronged you despite this moment of unusual humanity. Usually, he appeared to you more like a monster, but right then, he was but a wounded soldier, and perhaps your parents had been right; you were too good-hearted for your own good.

Dragging the bandage to his side, Calchero stopped, huffing as you had stopped unwrapping more of it. He pulled his legs in so he could push his torso off the wall before he looked up at you. Gulping, you knew what you had to do. It wasn't like he wouldn't do it himself, but it was honestly ridiculous that you sat there frozen in place now that you had come so far. Inching closer, you positioned yourself between his legs, hesitating for a split second more before you reached out your arms, wrapping them around his front to reach behind Calcharo.

Carefully, perhaps with less pressure than he would have liked, you wrapped and pulled the bandage from his back to his front again. Calchero released it once he noticed you taking action, but when you reached the blood-soaked gash again, it was his hand that did the dirty work, pressing the bandage down. There was about one more round that you could make, and you quickly guided the wrap around him once more before making an amateurish knot on his healthy side. It was far from perfect, and you tried to ignore the feeling of his blood coating your hands now, too. It didn't feel like you helped him, but it was what he had wanted.

Placing your hands on the ground, you wanted to get up again, get some healthy distance between you two, and clean your hands if you got the chance. But before you could even slip one leg out from underneath you, Calchero's whole body suddenly collapsed forward. In a spurt of a moment reaction, you grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing your own between his collarbones to brace against his weight that could have easily buried you underneath it.

"H-Hey!" you called out, unsure what was happening, when you suddenly felt him inhale deeply, his hot breath releasing against your chest, sending shivers down your spine. And then, he chuckled.

"I didn't think you would."

His voice vibrated against your skin as he spoke them directly into your body. You didn't know what to say nor what he meant, but you felt the goosebumps rise across your arms and neck.

Calchero lifted himself just enough to nuzzle his face between your neck and shoulder, his weight so heavy as it rested on top of you. All you could do was curl your fingers into his body, and you cursed yourself for not immediately pushing him away, a small part of you afraid you might agitate the wound.

"Didn't think you'd care about me."

"I don't," you clarified, sounding pouty rather than confident. It had been a mistake, after all. You should have just let him sort out his own mess and stop being a busybody and help. Then, you wouldn't be in this situation now, your pulse throbbing in your ears as your heart began to beat faster with the anxiety and discomfort.

"I'm glad," he muttered. "Glad you care."

"I don't!"

This time, you did push. At least you tried. Calcharo didn't move an inch away from you, his head resting on your shoulder, his body threatening to bury you underneath if you didn't stay solid in your spot. The thought of Calcharo trapping you on purpose crossed your mind, and you hated yourself for not seeing it coming, walking right into the trap. And even if not, he was clearly exploiting the situation for all it was worth!

Of course, he'd take advantage of your kindness. Of course, he'd use your naivety and kindness to exploit you for something he wanted. Even if you questioned why it had to be you, why he kidnapped you of all people, his intentions—albeit disciplined—had always been clear. Although he held himself back from doing something regrettable so far, you had caught him touching you often: touching your hand while passing you a plate with food, brushing away hair from your face right after waking up, and letting his fingers glide over your arms or legs while you had dozed off, just to name a few. You should have been more careful. Should have listened to your body telling you to stay away. It might have just been something akin to a hug, but you should have never allowed him to go this far.

What if he took your kindness for consent?

"Please stop," you mumbled, feeling the tears shoot into your eyes. You didn't need to turn your head to know his eyes had opened, probably after hearing the sob in your voice. You wished you were stronger, able to push him away. Wished you could have fought him and caused him to stop liking you—wanting you. Wished you never even thought of him as anything but a monster.

"Just a little bit longer," he mumbled, lips brushing against your skin. Even when hiccups shook your body, Calchero didn't move, didn't budge. It seemed he didn't care anymore, getting exactly what he wanted. All you could do was sit there and wait for it to end, just like always. You felt his gaze vanish, the closeness allowing him to observe you differently, without needing to see when he could instead feel you.

His arms wrapped around your body, and you felt more trapped than ever, the feeling only registering when he said two more words that day,

"Thank you."

[emmylksblog]

OBSESSED // H.FORT

request: can you write about hector being a tease and like obsessed with the reader but like in a romantic way

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: shower sex, never explicit smut only highlighted

words: +2000

a/n: am i getting better at writing smut or i’m just delusional? 🤨

Hector Fort, the rising star of FC Barcelona, was an affectionate and devoted boyfriend who was completely smitten with you. He couldn't help but be obsessed with everything about you, from the way you carried yourself to the way you spoke.

He was always eager to please you and ensure your happiness, whether it was by massaging your feet, tending to your hair, or letting you pamper him with your skincare expertise. Hector was obedient and compliant when you needed him to be and always tried to lift your spirits when you were feeling down.

He was infatuated by you, and his devotion knew no bounds. Whether it was after a tough training session or a hard match, he would make sure to give you all the attention you deserved. Hector could never get enough of you, and it was clear that he thought the world of you. He loved being able to be vulnerable and let you take care of him, and he enjoyed spending every spare moment he could with you, just appreciating your presence and company.

He trusted you implicitly and would never dream of letting anyone else touch his hair, except for you. You were the only person he'd let shape and style his locks, knowing that you'd only ever do what was best for him. In return, he would gladly do your hair or any other thing you asked, just to see the smile on your face and make you happy.

The sound of laughter and banter filled the room as Hector and his friends were engaged in a competitive game of FIFA. You weren't home yet, as you were still out shopping, but when you finally returned, the sight of his friends didn't deter Hector from his usual affectionate greeting.

He quickly abandoned the game to give you a warm kiss on the lips and eagerly helped you unpack the food, his focus being solely on you. He barely even acknowledged his friends as he was so happy to see you.

Hector's teammates, Marc, Pau and Lamine, chuckled and teased Hector about how whipped he was for you, but he didn't seem to care. He was completely smitten and always eager to show his affection for you, no matter who was around.

As he finished unpacking the groceries, he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head in your neck, inhaling your scent and giving you another, tighter, hug.

As you thanked Hector for helping you unpack the groceries, you couldn't resist teasing him about how much he had missed you. He grinned sheepishly and ruffled his hair as you stroked it.

Marc, Pau and Lamine, who were still in the living room playing the game, couldn't help but chime in.

"Parece que alguien no pudo aguantar una hora sin su preciada novia eh Hector" says Marc. (It looks like someone couldn't last an hour without his precious girlfriend, huh Hector)

"More like a minute." Pau added.

"You've got it bad, bro." said Lamine while taking a snack.

Hector just shrugged and rolled his eyes at his friends, unfazed by their teasing. He was used to their banter and knew they were just jealous of the bond he had with you. He leaned into your touch as you toyed with his hair, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Can you blame me? Casi muero de aburrimiento con ellos" (I almost died of boredom with them)

You couldn't help but chuckle and shake your head at his dramatic response.

"Oh, poor baby. You couldn't survive an hour without me?"

Hector feigned a pout and nodded sheepishly, leaning into you more.

The other three snickered from across the room, clearly enjoying the banter.

"Oh, shut up, Hector. We're not that bad." says Marc quickly being supported by Pau and Lamine.

Hector playfully scowled and stuck out his tongue at his friends before turning back to you, the pout lingering.

"See how they treat me?" he mock-complained, putting on a dramatic act.

You chuckled and continued to stroke his hair, finding his antics endearing.

"You really missed me that much handsome?" you asked, pretending not to believe him.

Hector smiled sheepishly and nodded, his eyes glued to yours.

Marc sauntered over to where you and Hector were standing in the kitchen, his usually cocky demeanor in place. He greeted you with a warm hug and a smirk.

"Hey, you. Good to see you."

Marc then turned to Hector, who was looking a bit annoyed at his approach, and couldn't resist the urge to tease him again.

Marc chuckled and ruffled Hector's hair playfully.

"Don't worry, bro. I'm not trying to steal your girl away."

Hector swatted at his hand and tried to fix his messy hair as Marc continued to tease him.

"You wouldn't have a chance anyway," he said, trying to keep his cool.

Marc feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart.

"Oh, wow. Eso ha dolido." (that hurt)

Growing tired of the banter between Marc and Hector, you decided it was time to take a moment for yourself. You gave Hector a quick kiss before excusing yourself to the upstairs bathroom to take a shower.

As you left, you could hear the sound of the four boys arguing loudly in the kitchen, their voices and laughter following you as you ascended the stairs.

Hector turned to his friends, who were all still lingering in the kitchen, and shot them a look.

"Come on, guys, it's getting late. You all have girlfriends to get back to, too."

Marc made a pouty face, but Pau and Lamine both nodded in agreement, reluctantly taking the hint.

Marc rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and giving Hector a playful scowl. "Ya me has cambiado por la novia" (so you're already replacing me with your girlfriend, huh?)

"Eres un idiota, además ella es mucho más guapa que tú." Hector responded, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. (you're such an idiot, besides she is prettier than you)

Marc pretended to be offended, letting out an exaggerated huff and Hector just chuckled, giving Marc a friendly slap on the back as a farewell.

"See you around," Lamine said with a smirk, giving Hector a friendly pat on the shoulder as he walked past.

Pau chuckled and added, "Don't miss us too much."

Hector rolled his eyes but smiled, secretly glad for the opportunity to have you all to himself.

"Yeah, yeah. Get out of here."

Hector wasted no time in following you upstairs, feeling excited at the idea of joining you in the shower. He made his way to the bathroom, hoping you hadn't finished yet and he could surprise you.

He softly opened the door to the bathroom, listening for the sound of the shower running before slowly entering.

As Hector quietly entered the bathroom, he heard you call out his name. He smiled and leaned against the doorframe, admiring your beautiful figure through the steamed up glass of the shower.

"Can I join you?" he asked, his voice already a bit huskier.

At your approval Hector quickly disrobed, his eyes never leaving your body as he stepped into the shower behind you. The warm water cascaded over both of your bodies, the steam adding an intimate touch to the atmosphere.

He gently wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, his touch almost reverent as he began to run his hands over your body.

"Let me take care of you, mi amor."

Leaning in, he began to gently knead and massage your shoulders, his strong hands working away the knots and tension that had built up throughout the day. The hot water and the skillful movements of his fingers soon had you relaxed and moaning in pleasure.

Hector continued his ministrations, his focus entirely on you. He left a trail of kisses down your neck and across your shoulder blades, his lips soft and reverent against your skin.

His hands moved down your back, tracing small circles and lines with his fingertips, sending shivers down your spine.

"You work too hard," he murmured in your ear, his voice a low rumble. "You deserve to be pampered."

He gently turned you around so that your back was pressed against the tiled wall, and he stared into your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of adoration and desire.

Hector lifted your chin with a single finger, his other hand still resting on your hip. His touch was gentle but firm, and his gaze was unwavering.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as the water continued to cascade over your bodies.

You respond eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you moan into the kiss. Your bodies press closer together, the heat of the water and the heat of desire combining to make you both feel as though you're on fire.

You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and chest, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath the water-slicked skin.

The kiss deepens, become more intense, and Hector presses you even tighter against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his touch. You can feel the evidence of his desire, hot and hard against your hip, and it only adds to the growing hunger within you.

"I need you, mi amor," Hector murmured against your lips, his voice thick with need. "I want to make you feel good."

He gently nudges your legs apart, his hand trailing down your thigh as he positions himself closer to you. The tension and desire between you is almost palpable, and the steam from the shower only seems to amplify it.

You gasp as he positions himself between your legs, your chest heaving with anticipation. You feel his hands gently grip your hips, and you let your head fall back against the wall, surrendering yourself completely to him.

"Please," you breathe, your voice a near whisper. "Do whatever you want to me."

Hector grins at your request, the possessive and dominant side of him coming out to play.

"As you wish," he says, his voice low and firm.

He leans in and captures your lips in another intense kiss, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he begins to move against you.

You gasp into the kiss as his hips buck against yours, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You lift one leg, wrapping it around his waist, your body seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Si" you whisper against his lips. "Hazme tuya." (make me yours)

Hector's eyes darkened at your words, and he let out a guttural moan against your lips, his control slipping. He deepened the kiss even further, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance.

His hips rocked against you, the movement becoming more desperate as he sought to claim you completely.

Hector's hands grip your thighs, helping to support your weight as you wrap your legs fully around his waist. He backs you up into the wall even further, pinning you against it as he continues to grind into you.

He moans at the feeling of you wrapped around him, his eyes dark with desire. "Te amo" he gasps against your neck.

"Y yo a ti Hector" you gasp back, the words spilling from your lips as the ecstasy builds between you.

Your hips move in rhythm with his, the friction and pressure creating a delicious coil of tension deep within you. You cling to him, your nails digging into his flesh as you seek release.

Hector's breathing is ragged and uneven, his body straining with the effort to hold back. But your words and the feeling of you clinging to him is too much to resist.

He buries his face in your neck, his lips and teeth nipping and sucking at your skin, leaving marks that will surely be there the next day.

Hector grunts as you start to ride him harder, the movement driving him wild with desire. His hands grip your hips even tighter, helping to guide your movements.

"Mierda," (shit) he whispers, his voice a strained growl. "You're gonna be the end of me."

You gasp and moan, your hips moving in a desperate, erratic rhythm as you chase your release. Your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving red marks as your body grows taut with pleasure.

You can feel his own need growing, burning hotter and hotter as he works to bring you over the edge.

And just as you feel yourself reach the peak of ecstasy, you feel a low, guttural moan against your skin as Hector follows you over the edge, his body shuddering as he comes undone.

You both cling to each other, the hot water still cascading over your panting, trembling bodies.

For a few moments, you simply stand there, regaining your breath and steadying your racing hearts. Hector holds you tight, his arms enveloping you as he presses gentle kisses to your shoulder and neck.

"Mi amor," he murmurs, his voice still thick with pleasure. "Eres increíble." (you're incredible)

You smile at his words, feeling a mix of contentment and satisfaction wash over you. You turn your head to face him, your eyes meeting his.

"You're not so bad yourself," you tease, your voice still a little breathless.

Hector grins and pecks your nose before replying, "I hope that wasn't too tiring for you. We might have to do it again, just to be sure."

You laugh and playfully hit his shoulder, rolling your eyes at his unabashed flirting. But secretly, you're actually considering his suggestion. The way he was able to bring you to such heights of pleasure was addicting.

Hector chuckles and pulls you even closer, his hands roaming up and down your back in a soothing gesture.

"Come on, let's finish cleaning up and shower so we can get to bed."

He grins and winks at you, mischief dancing in his eyes.

You laugh at his wink and nod, agreeing that it's time to finish up in the shower and get some rest. You spend the next few minutes cleaning each other up, the moment now filled with comfortable silence and gentle touches.

Once you're all cleaned up, you both step out of the shower. Hector grabs a towel and gently starts drying you off, taking care to be extra thorough.

"You know," he says as he runs the towel over your shoulders and back. "I may have to start taking more cold showers after being with you."

You laugh and teasingly ask "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Hector grins and looks you up and down, his eyes heating as he takes in your form wrapped in a towel.

"I think it's pretty obvious," he purrs, leaning in to press a kiss to your collarbone. “I’m obsessed with you.”

You hum in response, enjoying the feel of his lips on your skin. You grab the other towel and start drying him off, taking your time to be thorough as well.

"I think I'm just as obsessed with you," you admit, your eyes raking over his muscled torso.

Hector smirks, clearly pleased with your words. He grabs the towel and finishes drying himself off, before pulling you into his arms.

He wraps the towel around both of you, encasing you both in a warm and cozy cocoon. He nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

"Let's get a move on before I get tempted to have you again," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You chuckle and nod, knowing that if you stay wrapped up like this any longer, you'd both end up getting distracted again.

"Alright, lead the way," you say, stepping out of the bathroom with him wrapped around you, the towel still around both of your bodies.

Hector leads you into the bedroom, pulling the blankets back and guiding you to the bed. Once you're both settled under the covers, he pulls you close, cuddling you against his chest.

"I love you," he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy.

You smile and wrap your arms around him, feeling content and warm in his embrace. "I love you too," you reply, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

[shadesoflsk]

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it. 

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?” 

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

     ⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now? 

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[seelestia]

⟡ within your waking thoughts (there i’ll be).

⎯ what do they do when they miss you? how do they cope with yearning when you're away? { y for yearning ノ ordered by @floraldresvi! (sorry for the ping!) }

RESERVED FOR! ノ characters. aventurine, sunday, dr. ratio ft. gn!reader. { 1.3k words }

FLAVOR! ノ genre. fluff, slight angst (my apology to sunday lovers yet again), established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ノ tags. aventurine has his tech savvy moment, pre-2.2 sunday (heavy references but no spoilers), ratio has two phones (king of separating work & personal life !!!).

BAKER’S NOTE! ノ thoughts. a repost! bcs tumblr didn't like it the first time. hopefully, this one will be here to stay. thank u to vivi for requesting this ‹3

© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

in your absence, aventurine welcomes little thoughts of you that float around his mind with open arms - and the way he indulges them is by simply texting you. effective and efficient, there is a reason why the cosmos calls it the second most used means for long distance communication. what about the first? well, he would've opted for calling you with his earpiece if only his line of work doesn't require 90% of its usage time.

let's just say the idea of fellow stonehearts interrupting his conversation with you ruins the fun. besides, he has deft fingers; coin tricks aren't the only thing in his book, you know, typing a few sentences in one go is no problem at all.

but maybe, he is using that too much to his advantage . . . considering the “25+” staring back at you from your notifications every few hours or so. aventurine is truly, irrevocably relentless.

anything even remotely in your favorite color found within his vicinity? new message: Saw something that reminded me of you, you must really like crossing my mind.

an item he thinks would fit you well? new message: I got you a gift. Does it suit your fancy? [1 attachment]

reminded of how cruel fate is to separate you two for so long? new message: Haven't seen your face in a while. Fifteen hours are a total too cruel, don't you agree?

have faith that you will never grasp the true meaning of boredom when you’re apart from him. luck follows a man like aventurine, so do interesting events - remember how he won a vacation to a resort with one chip? he revels in telling you stories of his encounters while you're away. it is as if thrill revolves around him constantly. . . one wonders just how he fares living on the edge of it all.

(you, for one, are aware of his ways. he has allowed you to wander far enough behind his masquerade, after all.)

of course, texts on an illuminated screen can barely compare to seeing you in person. he prefers having you in his arms instead - but he'll live. solitude is an old friend of his, albeit distant and cold, aventurine can deal with its company every once in a while. at the end of the day, he knows you’ll be there when he comes home.

though, it's such a shame he cannot see your face when you're apart. the curve of your lips as you smile, the twinkle in your eyes with his reflection in them, and. . . ah, seems like he is making this harder for himself. maybe, he should consider buying that HD holographic communicative device on the market? his ears caught wind of some P45 officers at pier point whispering about it before.

it'll cost a large sum of credits but hey, he thinks it'll be worth it. for you? anything is possible.

(...him? clingy? well, guilty as charged.)

sunday’s self-discipline is not something to be underestimated. halovians are a species known for their enchanting voices, yet he feels as if he cannot spare any for even his inner thoughts. what an irony. his longing for your presence is persistent, tumbling at the edge of his tongue - but he is equally as, if not more, stubborn and so he swallows this yearning down instantly.

you are not confined to the dreamscape like he is, as self-imposed as that may be. sunday is aware of that, hence his first instinct is to keep quiet. the curse of sealing his lips till forevermore; watching you leave through the grand doors, letting his gaze fall to where your shadow used to be, savoring the last of your remaining fragrance from when you last bade him goodbye - all without a word.

(don't go, he wished he could say.)

is it a bad habit? “your voice shouldn't be used just to utter words that others want to hear,” you reminded him once. “it's also for you. it's yours.”

but even then, your words are akin to a faint whisper; muffled by the thoughts that plague his mind like a mist. he can't help how they fog up his reflection in the mirror, leaving remnants of something acrid that wafts in the air. something like doubts, sunday would know because he has dwelled in it for as long as he remembers.

you are outside, fluttering your wings in the sky and enjoying what it has to offer. does he have any rights to disturb you? perhaps, in his eyes, sunday views himself as a string tied around your talon, trailing all the way from the heavens where you soar to the humble ground where he resides. each time your absence compels him to reach out, it is as if he’s tugging on that string and dragging you lower from the height you truly relish in, from the height you deserve to be at.

(sunday believes that you belong to the sky, unlike him.)

so here, he shall stay and here, he shall wait until you return. sunday’s heart begins to grow cold - but the farewell kiss you've left on the apple of his cheek hasn't faded. its warmth remains, even when he brushes his freezing hand against it, it remains.

you remain.

(and that is enough for him.)

dr. ratio is a man with a packed schedule, so it's safe to say he keeps himself occupied particularly well. tasks at the intelligentsia guild are nothing short of demanding, after all. there are researchers asking for his input left and right, although some tremble while speaking to him even when he hasn't even uttered a word yet. ignoring that, he also aids in projects that require his expertise. last but not least, his students and classes which he takes very seriously.

(but be careful with how you phrase it — the doctor doesn't view them as distractions, no, he sees them as his responsibilities — saying the former might offend him.)

as you can see, he is perfectly capable of spending time away from you. . . .or at least, until it's time for a break and a part of that perfection chips off.

his office is quite tranquil, free from outside noise, just the way he likes. this place bears a similar purpose as his headgear, to let him focus in silence without disturbance - but he hasn't expected that exact silence to be this deafening. hah, how absurd! in what realm of possibility could silence ever be associated with deafening as an adjective? he supposes it could be a case of tinnitus. . . but veritas knows that isn't the case.

something's missing and it is, much to his dismay, you.

veritas has his standards. he prefers things to be set at a specific level - and this level of silence, one marred further by your lack of presence, is too low for him. he's getting too used to seeing you barge into his office with neatly packed sandwiches in your hands, a revelation he'd rather keep to himself.

veritas reaches for his personal phone, his work one left neglected at the far end of the desk. he considers making a call to you but the clock is ticking. tick tock tick tock, as if to hang the fact that his break is reaching its end over his head.

utilizing whatever time he has left, his finger gives the gallery app a tap. various pictures pop up on the screen; selfies of you with silly expressions, candid shots of veritas himself and some photos of random objects like your matching mugs. all of these were taken by you, of course. seriously, is this his phone or is it yours?

who knows at this point? he nearly lets out a snort, but that smile on his face is fooling no one. the doctor continues scrolling through his gallery, utterly content with just this until he gets home. to you.

(yes, yes, this still counts as keeping himself occupied. thank you for your concern.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

[calumfmu]

Bad Decision, Right?

You were new in town, guarded from the wandering eyes of everyone in Hawkins High. You had one rule, don't overshare, even if it was at the hands of Steve Harrington, certified asshole and heartthrob of the school.

8.7k+, 18+, mdni (!!!), steve harrington x fem!reader

cw: smut, angst, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral, fingering, swearing, you know the whole deal

You were new in town, the conversation of the hour at Hawkins High. It had barely been one week since you stepped into the school, and everyone knew your name—or lack thereof, you should say. “New girl, new girl” was all that you heard whenever you passed down the halls. You could barely keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head whenever you heard the whispers around you.

You should be used to it, you suppose. It was your third time moving in six months. Your dad could barely keep a job at this point, and your mom hid her pain in the bottom of her wine glasses. Being at school was supposed to be your only escape from your home life, but with this small town, it only made it worse.

Being new and not getting close to people was your routine. Keep your head down, don’t speak to anyone, don’t even think of making friends. There was no point.

And that’s exactly what you told yourself when a teenage girl with a sandy brown bob was smiling at you as she leaned into the locker next to yours. She was wiggling her eyebrows at you, smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. You ignored her, shoving books into the top shelf of your locker.

“Can I help you?” There was no venom behind your words, no snark, just boredom.

“You’re new here, right?” She smiled even wider, arms crossed over her chest as she took a look at you. You could feel her eyes trail up and down your body, as if she was trying to ‘figure you out’.

“No way! How’d you figure it out?” You pressed your lips in a faux smile as you glanced in her direction. You weren’t trying to be rude, but just like the other friends in the last few towns, there was no point in being nice either.

You focused heavily on the books in your locker, searching for the biochem book. There’s no way you had lost it already. It was only your 6th day of school.

“Mmm, I think I'm in like with you already,” the girl muttered, shaking her head seemingly in adoration at your dryness. You spared another glance at her, wondering why this girl wouldn’t let up. “I’m Robin.”

A hand shot in front of you, interrupting you in your search for that god forsaken text book. She—Robin—was waiting for you to shake it, eyebrows raised as you both sat in silence. Staring down at it, you contemplated your options. you could: 1) take it, make friends and forget about the constant cycle of losing them or 2) ignore it, just like you had with everyone else.

“Well, I'm not going to bite you,” Robin continued, forcing her own hand into your grasp to shake. Your hand was limp, and a small glimmer of something sat in your chest. She stood up straight, swinging her bag over her shoulder as she looked for something. Before you knew it, her own copy of that exact textbook you were searching for appeared in her hands as she held it in your direction.

You opted for silence, staring confused as she urged you to take it.

“We’re in the same class,” she said as you reluctantly grabbed the book from her hands. You stared down at the copy, chewing at your bottom lip as she swung her bag around her shoulders once again. You don’t do hand outs. “We don’t really use it that often, even if the teacher scared you into thinking we do. But i promise you’ll open it up maybe once.”

“Uhm, thanks.” Your voice was small as you ran your hands over the cover, finally glancing up at her. There you noticed her features, freckles gracing her face, black eyeliner on her bottom water line, smudged out. Wispy bangs hanging over her forehead, and that sweet smile on her face.

“Come on, you could sit next to me!” She closed your locker for you as she grabbed onto your arm, leading you the rest of the way to the classroom. Thoughts were racing your mind as the two of you made your way through the crowded halls of the school. You didn’t do this normally, you liked to keep your distance. It was the way things should be.

Just as the bell rang, you made your way into the classroom, following Robin as she found her stake at your normal double desk. It was in the corner of the room, normally just you sat at it with an empty chair next to you, highlighting the loneliness that echoed in your life.

You sat next to her, still eyeing her as she made herself comfortable. Her things—a single notebook and random pen with bite marks at the end—carelessly thrown in front of her. The teacher, whose name you couldn’t remember for the life of you began the lesson, a topic you had become extremely familiar with over the past few schools.

“So…” Robin whispered, leaning over to you. “Where are you from?”

“Uhh… around?” You didn’t know where to call home.

She quirked an eyebrow at you, tapping the pen on the desk. “Mysterious, I like it.”

You nodded in response, leaning forward on the desk as you tried to regain your focus on the teacher’s lesson. The conversation didn’t end there.

“How the fuck did you end up here? In Hawkins, of all places?!” She whisper-shouted the last of it, looking down when the teacher sent her a warning look. She mouthed ‘sorry’ and gave a half shrug as he side eyed her. She turned her gaze back on you once he had turned around. “Seriously, spill.”

Clearing your throat, you shrugged, “Your guess would be as good as mine at this point.”

She sighed, leaning in closer as it wasn’t a sufficient answer. “No, seriously, wha-“

“Miss Buckley, please.” The teacher’s voice boomed through the room, all eyes turning on the pair of you. You closed your eyes in embarrassment, hearing Robin mutter another apology, this time to the room.

The rest of the class was spent in silence between the two of you, you nor Robin saying anything to each other as the lesson continued. You were antsy, anxious to run right out of the room and escape the overly talkative girl you had just met. The end of the day was right there, your favorite time of the day where you could just hide from everyone and ignore the stares of others.

Right as the school bell rang, you grabbed your bag off the floor and began heading your way towards the door, ignoring Robin’s calls of your name and “wait!”.

You made your way through the halls, trying to find the comfort in the thought of your own home. It was hard to even do that. Robin suddenly cut in front of you, smile wide as ever as you were stopped in your tracks. Oh my god, you thought to yourself. I'm in a horror movie.

“yn!” She exclaimed, placing both of her hands on your shoulders. “Come with me! I have some people I’d think you’d like.”

“You know, really,” you attempted to make your way around her, smiling sheepishly as you thought of excuses. “I have somewhere to be, people, you know— waiting for me!”

A dead pan look crossed her face. “You and I both know you have no friends.”

ouch.

“So good thing you can meet mine!” That happy-go-lucky attitude returned once more as she grabbed your hand, leading you towards the Hawkins exit. You looked at the sky, begging something, anything to strike you down in that moment.

The two of you stopped at a maroon colored BMW, a group of teenagers gathered around. They were laughing, joking around at each other as one of them sat on the hood of the vehicle. He had long hair, styled in a similar fashion you would see on the cover of a magazine, and a dusty blue colored jacket, fitted with pockets and zippers over the front. He immediately caught your attention, his wide mouth stretched in a smile as he laughed at a brunette girl, throwing a piece of candy at him.

“Hey losers!” Robin shouted, bringing everyone’s attention to you two. The group's conversation halted, curious as they looked at you standing behind Robin, arms crossed over your chest. “I brought new bait!”

That same small brunette girl groaned, shaking her head. “Robin, I thought we talked about calling people that.”

Robin laughed, placing her hand on your shoulder as she brought you to the forefront. Anxiety crossed you as you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. You briefly closed your eyes again, sighing as she began introductions.

“yn, this is the gang, gang, this is-“

“We’re really not that either.”

“Shut it, Steve. You guys, this is yn,” Robin said, arm wrapped around your shoulder now. “that’s Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie.”

They all gave waves and greetings in your direction, earning a small wave back.

“It’s lovely to meet you, yn,” Nancy smiled warmly, walking up to you so she could shake your hand. You took it, giving a small smile back. It was the most genuine one you had given in a while.

“Nice to meet you too, Nancy.”

They began to bring you into the conversation, asking questions of where you’re from and what brought you into town. You avoided all of them, answering in vague, short answers as you wished to stay anonymous. There was nothing really to tell them. What are you supposed to say? Oh, my dad’s gambler, moms an alcoholic, we move every few weeks because they think a new city is going to solve all their problems.

They seemed to catch on—well, Nancy did at least. You could see the silent nod of disapproval she gave to Robin and Eddie as they pressed you. They changed the subject once they picked up on it, choosing to ask you more impersonal questions. You liked her, you figured. She seemed genuine and sweet, someone who could truly read the room.

Robin was sweet too, but she was a little too much upon first impressions. She did seem like she cared about you, but in more of trying to be your best friend upon first meeting type of way.

The boy on the hood of the car—Steve— was more quiet. You kept glancing in his direction, eyes drawn to him as he included himself in the conversation. He quipped jokes back and forth with Eddie, shoving his shoulder when he made a joke that was “too far man!” or made an obscure reference to some random video game.

“So are you in, yn?” Robin's voice broke you from your thoughts.

“I'm sorry, what?”

You blinked in confusion, finding all pairs of eyes on you once again. You had zoned out, staring at Steve, not failing to notice the small smirk on his face. The sunglasses on his face hid his eyes, but you could only imagine the glint behind them as he realized what you were thinking. He raised an eyebrow at you, awaiting your answer like the rest of everyone else.

“Party tonight at Steve’s?” Robin answered, as you turned your attention towards her once again. You spared a glance at the boy, seeing as his attention was back to Eddie, a small conversation happening between them two.

“Oh- uhm, I really don’t do that.” A blush crossed your face.

“C’monnn, yn!” This time it was Eddie, elbow leaning against the beemer.

“No, I’m sorry, you guys.” You vehemently shook your head, taking a step backwards as if you were uninviting yourself.

"yn, yn, yn!" Eddie began a small chant, Robin following as she clapped her hands along to it. It was all too embarrassing for you, your face flooding with color as you weren't used to that type of attention.

"Okay, okay! Fine!"

You caved, raising a hand to stop their chant. Everyone cheered, clapping at your words. Robin was beaming at this point, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as she swayed back and forth. A small giggle escaped your lips, rolling your eyes at how excited this group of strangers were for you.

Everyone went into motion—Steve hopping off the car, Eddie waving goodbye to group, Nancy and Jonathan heading in the same direction of the parking lot. Robin turned towards you, smile ever present on her features.

"We could get ready together, yeah?" She asked, throwing her bag in the backseat of Steve's car. He slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine as Robin opened the passenger door. "Come on, get in. You can get ready at my house."

You stared at her holding the door open, thinking of the mistake you had already made even speaking to the weird group of friends. It wasn't too late to turn around, you could go your separate ways and not turn back.

Steve honked the horn, pulling you out of your thoughts. You saw him looking at you through the glass, sunglasses perched on the top of his head. His brown eyes met yours, and immediately, your heart sank. Bad decision #2.

You made your way to the back passenger door, sliding in as Robin held a smug look on her face.

"Good decision, rookie," she laughed, closing the door behind her as she settled into the seat.

As Steve pulled out of the high school parking lot, you couldn't help but think this is a feeling you could get used to. You shouldn't, but it was in the back of your mind. It was only going to last a few weeks if that, but you could, in theory, have fun while it lasted.

Robin's house was empty and quiet. Her room tucked in the back corner of the hall, a giant 'Keep Out' sign adorning the door. Covered in posters of movies you hadn't gotten a chance to see, her walls were a faint blue, barely being able to be shown as memorabilia covered the walls. There were framed pictures of her looking miserable in a band uniform, movie tickets thumb tacked to the walls, and polaroids of her and Steve throughout the room.

It had been a few hours since school had ended, the sun setting in the distance as time ticked closer towards the start of the party. Steve had dropped off the two of you, muttering a goodbye in your direction and a full farewell in Robin's. Something you were used to. They were a cute couple, you thought to yourself.

You examined them, walking slowly as the details of everything stood out to you. She was a little nerdy, but vibrant, her entire life spread out right in front of you.

"Do you want to borrow something?" She asked, ruffling her hair into place as she stared at you through the reflection of the mirror. You jumped, startled at she brought you out of your focus.

“Oh.” You looked down at your outfit, smoothing out the wrinkles in your denim jeans. “If that’s alright?”

“Yeah, of course, dummy,” she went over to her closet, throwing a few pairs of clothes on her bed for you to examine. You made your way over to them, fingers dancing over the fabrics.

It had been a while since you got anything new, you didn’t even know if the two of you were the same size. Your fingers stopped at a pink shirt, liking the satin feel against your skin.

“I like that one,” she whispered, closer to you than you had thought. You turned around, making eye contact with her. “I don’t really wear it often, you could have it if you want?”

“Oh, no! I-I couldn’t do that-”

She rolled her eyes, fake frustration showing through. “How many times are you going to keep saying no to everything?”

She grabbed the shirt and a random skirt lying next to it, shoving them in your hands as she began to push you in the direction of the bathroom.

“Go! Change! Wear it, it’s yours!”

Reluctantly, you complied, taking a step towards the bathroom across the hall. You closed the door behind you, taking off your shirt as you examined yourself in the mirror. You could roll your eyes at yourself, not recognizing the person in front of you as you slipped the clothes over you. They were nice against your skin, flattering your complexion as the fabric hung around your frame.

You exited the room, surprised at Robin standing right outside the door. She smiled at you, taking in the look of you in her clothes—well, yours now, technically.

"Stunning." She looked at you in appreciation as you fought back a smile, teeth digging into your bottom lip. "Now, c'mon, we're going to be late."

There were already crowds of people at the Harrington house, cars parked in the driveway and up the street, small groups of people walking up the walkway into the house. Music sounded out from the open front door as teenagers made their way in and out.

This wasn't your scene, you could already tell. It was going to be like a circus, seeing as everyone at school had already created a narrative about you. You could only imagine what they were going to say now.

You turned your head towards Robin, her hand at your wrist, pulling you in the direction of the front door.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," you began, shaking your head as all the nerves you previously had filled your senses again.

"Nonsense, you loved my friends," she replied, continuing her way to the open door. Your feet felt heavy, dragging as the music became louder with every step.

"Robin—no, I'm serious."

A queasiness took over you, turning at your stomach as heads began to already turn your way. The two of you made your way through the front door, music and the sound of people overcoming you. You had heart palpitations, your chest pounding with every inch you took further into the house.

Her grip at your wrist felt like a vice, your thoughts suddenly thinking of how you should be home. Your mother would be worried sick at this point, who else would be there to check if this was the night that she drank too much?

"Eddie!" Robin suddenly exclaimed, letting go of your wrist as she ran towards the center of the room. You watched as she met up with the long haired man, throwing her arms around him as if she hadn't seen him hours prior.

In this moment, you made a dash for it. You tried to make it towards the front door, but a crowd of people entered just as that thought crossed your mind. They were cheering over something, loud voices scaring you away from that general vicinity. Every direction you looked, there were people.

Unfamiliar faces staring at you, making you feel like even more of a circus act than you were before. Begrudgingly, you made your way towards the staircase in the corner of the room, pushing through the throngs of people crowding the bottom of the stairs.

You had to push a few people off of you, their drunk advances calling after you, "Hey, it's the new girl!"

Every door you tried was locked or had a line of people behind it, freedom escaping you as you searched. White double doors at the end of the hall caught your attention as you walked up to them, trying the doorknob. You sighed in relief as they pushed open, solitude finding you once again.

You closed the door behind you, head leaning against the solid wood as you caught your breath.

"Fuck!" You yelled, kicking the frame before you turned to look around.

A giant king bed was in the center, pillars extending at every corner. Framed photos hung on the walls, Steve's face at the center with other members of his family in the photos. His parents' room, you figured. The only safe space away from the crowds of people.

You sat on the bed, kicking off your Mary Jane's as you leaned back to stare at the ceiling. Your heart was calming down at this point, no longer feeling the beat of it throughout your entire body.

I just have to wait it out. Robin will find me eventually, you thought to yourself.

As you lay in the giant bed, arms crossed over your chest, you began to doze off. The dull thud of the music was like a lullaby, loud, but more comforting than falling asleep to the sound of your parents arguing. As sleep overcame you, you could barely hear the steps leading up to the door or the sound of the door swinging open.

"What did I tell you guys about coming up he—oh, yn," Steve's voice sounded through the room, interrupting your slumber. You sat up on your elbows suddenly to look at him. "What're you doing here?"

You flushed in your face, sliding out of the bed to grab your shoes. You moved to walk past him, set on ignoring his questions. He blocked the door. Asshole.

"You literally invited me," you deadpanned, stepping to the side to go around him. He matched your step, a small smile crossing his face as he blocked you from leaving. Glaring up at him, you huffed.

"Obviously," he smirked, hand on his hip as he stared down at you. You broke eye contact with him, looking to your right as you debated how far of a jump the window would be to the ground level. Second stories can't be that high, right?

"I don't want to be here anymore," you sighed, glancing in his direction as he continued to stare down at you. You didn't notice the way his smile faltered. "The people are just—I can't deal with it."

"Why? Has anyone said anything to you?" He questioned, voice with a slight urgency behind it. You started up at him, confused at the tone behind his words.

"And why do you care?"

You were snappy, irritation showing through as you became defensive. His hands shot up, surrendering to your words.

"Hey, now, I'm just wondering," he answered, taking a step into the room. He still blocked your exit, noticing the way that you still eyed it like a cornered animal. "Any friend of Robins is a friend of mine."

Rolling your eyes, you maintained eye contact with him, butterflies inching into the depths of your abdomen. The nervousness was growing with every second his eyes stayed on yours.

"What do you want Steve?" There was something about his energy, the way he was studying you with his head cocked to the side, hands on his hips. You felt vulnerable in that moment, wanting to run and hide and cover your body. It was somehow worse than the hundreds of people in school staring at you.

"I don't like my parents too much either," he blurted out, catching you off guard. You furrowed your brow, shaking your head at him.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

You looked down at your sock clad feet, shoes still dangling between your fingers by the straps.

"I do," he answered, taking a step towards you. You instinctively took a step back, defenses prickling at the back of your neck.

"You don't know anything about me," you were whispering at this point, losing the words to say as he stepped out of the path of the door. There it was your exit plan, but you couldn't move.

"I do," he repeated, holding a hand out as if he were ushering you in that direction. "You have this look to you. I used to have it, too. I just got better at hiding it."

You were numb, eyes glancing between the door and him. His eyes were captivating, drawing attention even when it was unwarranted. His perfectly styled hair fell around his face, a single strand curled at his forehead. As his gaze continued to bore into you, the look on his face was serious, yet made the nervousness fade slightly with every continual look.

"The way you're always so quiet, just waiting for someone else to fill the silence, not bothering to give any information about yourself," he continued, breaking eye contact for the first time. You followed his gaze, noticing he was focusing on one of the family photos on the walls. "I had that same thing, look, feeling, whatever you want to call it. It never does get easier, but... you just have to pretend. Until it kinda works?"

As his speech continued, you toyed at the shoe straps in your hands. His words somehow comforted you, even if you did truly feel that he didn't know what he was talking about. His situation couldn't be similar to your own, so it was a lost cause for him to try and guess what was going on.

"You can go," he muttered, shaking his head as he looked away from the photograph. Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking at the open door behind him. "I just thought—maybe, a similar experience would help you."

You stared at the entry way, all efforts to run leaving through the door without you. Your feet made no effort to move, heartbeat a dull thud in your chest.

Steve sighed, turning around to leave himself once he saw that you were making no effort to leave.

"W-wait," you said, stopping him in his tracks. His hand was on the door frame, one foot out as his head turned to look at you. Curiosity crossed his features. "How do you pretend?"

He smiled, closing the door as he stepped back into the room. That should've scared you, but you couldn't be bothered. Steve was different from what you initially thought he was. Wasn't some asshole boyfriend of the girl you had just met. He did seem like he had a heart, so it made sense why him and Robin were close.

He ushered you to sit back on the bed, sitting across from you, knees barely brushing your own.

"You just do." His fingers pulled at the duvet cover, eyes glancing up at you through long lashes. "You try not to think about what you're going through too much. Distract yourself with people, even if the connections aren't genuine. That way you'll find people who actually do care. It's few and far between, but they are there."

Your voice faltered, "My connections never are genuine, always being the new girl. It sucks."

Steve laughed, nodding in agreement with your words.

"I'm sure it doesn't help, but you just have to try," he leaned on one elbow, body stretched out as his legs hung off the side of the bed. You averted your gaze from him, deciding that it was too much to stare at him in that position.

"When I met Robin, we were so different. She was this sarcastic, kind of mean person who laughed at my failures. Made me feel stupid for trying too hard," he laughed in between his words, shaking his head at the memory. "She made me realize that I didn't have to be a caricature of myself to fit in, I could be friends with who I want, and I shouldn't have to worry about what people think of me, especially my parents."

You nodded, smoothing out your skirt.

"She made me open up in ways that I hadn't before, leading me to make real friends who didn't care about who Steve Harrington was. They didn't care about my name, the popularity, any of that."

You examined him, noticing his dark blue shirt hugged his frame. Your eyes trailed over the shape of his chest, the way the shirt was stretched over his biceps. You shouldn't be looking at him in this way.

"She's lucky, you know," you said, folding your hands over your lap. Your arms were tight at your side, not moving in favor of thinking it would help you shrink in front of him. Steve quirked an eyebrow, questioning your words. "Robin, to have you as a boyfriend."

Steve laughed out loud at your words, shaking his head as his hand waved in the air.

"No, noooo," he laughed, hand running over his face. "She's not—no, I'm not really her type."

You were confused, words at a loss.

"We're just good friends, you could say," he chuckled low in his throat, blinking rapidly as he looked off into the distance behind you.

"Oh, I'm sorry," red crept over your features, blushing at the embarrassment of getting things so wrong. "So you're with Nancy, then?"

He laughed again, shaking his head even more rapidly than he did before.

"Yeah, that one didn't really work out," he grimaced, hand running over his left eyebrow. He winced as he seemed to think of a distant memory, fingers dancing over the bone there.

You nodded, curious about his gesture.

"S'just me," he shrugged, smiling up at you as you stared back down at him. "So, what is it about the mysterious yn that everyone wants apart of?"

You began to answer him, supplying details of the last few years of your life. It was the most comfortable you had been with a person, giving details that you swore you'd never give to another person. You mentioned your dad, his gambling addiction becoming worse and worse over the past year. Your mom finding her solutions in a liquor cabinet. How your problems were never enough for them since it wasn't an 'adult matter'. You didn't speak on it all, but with the details you provided, it was enough to give him an idea of you.

The conversation flowed well between the two of you, Steve providing his own details of his relationship with his dad. He had to live up to the Harrington name, even if he felt like he would never truly be able to do that. You found yourself laughing at his stories, even if there was sadness deep within it. He hid his pain with humor and a slight hint of flirting, if you could call it that.

"Hey, look, I think I have to go back downstairs," Steve said, sitting up from where he was lying on the bed. "Make sure everyone hasn't burned the place down."

You nodded, disappointment filling your chest as you realized this night was over.

"Yeah, I think I better head home myself," you reached down to grab your shoes, lay abandon on the floor besides the bed. You stopped in your tracks, Steve's hand coming to lay on your thigh. Glancing up at him, you found him inches away from your face.

His gaze fluttered down to your lips before looking quickly back to your eyes. Your breath hitched in your throat, all words just scrambled English in your mind.

As he leans into you, his lips brushed against yours, the taste of mint chapstick flooding your senses. The kiss was chaste, a quick brush of skin on skin that made your heart beat in your chest.

Your eyes were closed, briefly feeling the absence of his lips on yours before they crashed into you again. His mouth moved against yours, hand coming to rest against your cheek.

You let out a breathy sigh as the two of you moved in sync, feeling weightless in his grasp. He nibbled at your lip, other hand coming up to grab at your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Your fingers pull at his hair, breathless against his lips before he pulls away, placing one more quick peck at you. You felt numb, but this time, in a way that made you want to never leave his side. Your eyes fluttered open, fingers still tangled in his hair as he looked down at you.

"Don't be a stranger, yn," he whispered, placing one last peck on your lips before removing himself from you. He made his way to the door, glancing at you once last time with a smile on his face before he exited, closing it behind him.

You groaned, shoving your face into the duvet cover as you realized what had happened. Bad decision #3.

The next few weeks of classes went surprisingly well, and you found yourself listening to Steve's words in every interaction you dealt with. Of course, you were still the 'new girl' to most people, but you dealt with it in grace. You ignored strangers' advances into the details of your life, just telling them information about the last town you were in compared to Indiana.

Your friendship with the group became closer, Robin becoming your right hand in every interaction. She became less invasive in your information, but protective of you nonetheless. It was a bond like nothing you had experienced in the last few years, a feeling of a home you had never had settling over you.

Your relationship with Steve had blossomed into something you weren't quite sure what to call it. In front of the group, it was platonic, stealing glances at each other when you were sure no one was looking. His hand always seemed to graze over yours during the 'right' moments, catching your breath in your throat as you stumbled through the sentences you were saying to your new found friends.

In private, it was something else. Steve pushing you against a wall, pulling you into the nearest closet, cornering you in the bathroom at Nancy's place, any place to leave you breathless as his lips found yours in a fever never seen before. His fingers roaming your body as wet, hot kisses were placed wherever he could find stake. You found yourself day dreaming of those moments, mind fleeting the conversation at hand amongst others.

And that's where you found yourself now, pressed in the backseat of Steve's BMW, shirt half unbuttoned as his hand grasped at your breast, mouth pressed into your jawline. He lay between your open legs, rutting against you as you moaned breathlessly.

"F-fuck Steve," you arched into him, hand pulling at his clothes, urging him to come closer.

You two were supposed to be in 3rd period by now, sneaking off as you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. It was barely 9 am, but whenever you could find the time, the two of you snuck off, hoping to go unnoticed.

Your skirt was hiked up to your waist, exposing your red panties. His tight-in-the-front jeans pressed against you, all in the right and wrong places. Your hands roamed under his shirt, feeling his heat underneath your palms.

"Yeah, baby?" He moaned against your skin, hand coming up to lace through your hair. He pulled tight, guiding your mouth to his once again. He groaned against your mouth, hips grinding against yours.

You mewled in response, fingers pulling at his waistband as you urged him to take them off. The two of you hadn't gotten that far yet, but you were becoming more ready with every interaction the two of you had.

"Steve, fuck, m-more."

Your fingers found the button of his jeans, trying to undo it blindly as you moaned against his mouth. You felt him smirk against your lips, nibbling at the skin.

"Look at you, princess," he muttered, pulling away to see you in a breathless state. Your hair was a mess, fanned out behind you as you were pressed into the leather of his seats. "Such a mess for me."

Your fingers continued working at the button, finally freeing it as you were able to slip your hand down the front of his pants. Just as you grazed the bulge behind his boxers, the two of you heard the bell ring, signalling the end of the class period.

"Fuck!" You closed your eyes, fingers stopping in their tracks. Steve pulled off of you, leaning in the opposite direction as he moved to adjust himself in his pants.

You watched as he rebuttoned his jeans, fixing his shirt and the rumple in his clothes. He watched you while doing so, smile playing at his lips.

He leaned down briefly, pecking your lips once more before pulling away. You sat up, trying to chase his lips as he settled down. Placing a hand on your inner thigh, his eyes raked over your figure, lingering on the exposure of your panties in view.

"Gotta save it for later, babe," he whispered to you, thumb reaching out to pull at the band of your underwear.

Huffing in annoyance, you sat up to fix yourself, adjusting your clothes as you realized the moment was over. "When later?"

Steve was smiling, pulling his black jacket over his polo. He winked at you, dazed look on his face.

"We're just going to have to find out, babe."

"What the fuck happened to you?" Robin exclaimed, hand coming up to touch your neck before you smacked your hand away. You covered your neck with your hand, heat flooding your cheeks as a blush creeped in. "You looked like you've been mauled."

"I-I think I burned myself this morning. You know, straightening my hair," you muttered, pulling your hair over your shoulder as you covered it. Robin's eyes tightening, squinting at you as you avoided her eyeline.

"You don't straighten your hair," she deadpanned, arms coming to cross her chest.

"Oh my God, did I not tell you? I just learned how to. This morning, actually," you smiled at her, fawning innocence.

Her eyes were small as she stared at you, making you feel smaller and smaller under her inspection.

"Yn."

"Robin."

The two of you started at each other, you with a fake smile covering up your lies and her with a serious expression, making you crumble.

Steve suddenly appeared between the two of you, arms coming up to rest at each other's shoulders as he pulled the two of you into his sides.

"And what are my two favorite ladies up to?" His smile was big, still moving off of the confidence he had earlier in the backseat of his car. Robin rolled her eyes, gaze glancing at you as the three of you made your way to his car. It was the end of the day, students fleeting the school as the hallways became more and more empty.

"Yn, here... she was attacked by a wild animal, the teenage boy kind, and won't tell me what happened," she answered, annoyance clear in her words.

"Robin!" Your eyes were wide, hand coming up to grab at your neck once more.

You felt Steve look down at you as his arms left your shoulders. He had a slight smirk, glancing down at the assault on your neck before settling on your eyes.

"Oh?" He was terrible at pretending.

"Yes! Steve, can you believe that?" Robin muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. "She's keeping secrets again."

You rolled your eyes, huffing as Robin wouldn't let it go. The three of you found your way into the parking lot, making your way towards the vehicle you had become quite acquainted with during the last few weeks. You blushed looking at it, knowing what had occurred earlier.

"Secrets, huh?" Steve answered, unlocking the doors as you all made your way into it. You sat in the backseat, back thrown to your side as the memories of earlier began to cross your mind. He looked at you through the rear view mirror, noticing the way you squeezed your legs together. "I do love a good secret myself, don't you, Robin."

"Uh huh."

"Steve!"

He chuckled, starting the engine as you turned to look out the window. You watched as the school became smaller in the background, the streets of Hawkins passing by faster and faster.

"I'm just saying yn, I would tell you," Robin said, throwing her feet on the dash. Steve complained, hitting her ankle with a free hand, only to be ignored by the brunette. "Whoever it is, I just hope he's serious about you. I don't want you to get hurt."

You were quiet, eyes focused on the passing buildings. You didn't know what to say, not wanting to speak for Steve.

"I have a feeling he is," Steve supplied, meeting your look in the rear view mirror as you suddenly turned. Your heart was fast in your chest. "You're beautiful, yn. Any guy would be stupid to not be serious about you."

"Thank you Steve!" Robin sighed, throwing her hands in the air as the car pulled in the front of her house. She turned towards you, reaching out to place a hand on your knee. "Seriously, yn. I just want you to be safe."

She grabbed her bag by her feet, placing it in her lap as she reached for the door hand.

"Now, c'mon... I have so much to tell you about today."

You reached for your own bag, only to be interrupted by Steve's voice.

"Oh, yn, you wanted me to drop you off at yours, right?" He questioned, glancing back at you as confusion crossed your features.

"Uhh... n-"

"I swore you told me that earlier this morning," his eyebrows raised, tapping his fingers against the wheel. Confusion settled into your face as you didn't know what he was talking about. "You had something you needed to do at home. Finish what you started, I think you said."

Oh.

Robin stood outside the door, it ajar as she looked between you guys. She was confused, sighing as she swung her bag over her shoulders.

"Whatever, losers," she left the door open, watching as you made your way to the front seat, core tightening as you thought of what was to come. "You owe me, yn. I need details immediately on whoever did that to you."

You nodded, tucking in your legs as she made her way to the front door, closing it behind her. You sat in silence for a bit, smile on your face as you watched Steve start the car on the trek to his place.

"Finish what I started, yeah?" You smiled at the man in front of you, him turning his head as he continued the drive. He didn't answer you, instead moving his hand to rest on your knee.

As the drive continued, you couldn't help, but find happiness in the place you sat. It was the most content you had been in years, finding comfort in the once stranger you sat with. This boy had caught you by surprise, tugging at your heartstrings in a way you didn't realize possible.

"Coming, yn?" He asked as you hadn't realized he was stopped at his place. Your stomach dropped, staring at the house in front of you. He was the only car in the drive way, a normal thing he had mentioned to you countless times.

"Hey," he whispered, leaning over to you as he placed a small kiss on your lips. His large hands were placed on both of your cheeks, thumbs rubbing circles against the skin. "We don't have to do anything you don't want, okay?"

You nodded, your own hands reaching up to be placed on top of his. You began to follow him inside, your first time being at his place since the party a few weeks back.

His room was big, smaller than his parents, but a picture of exactly what you thought it was going to be. He threw himself on the bed, leaning up on his elbows as you stood there at the foot of it.

"Come 'ere," he held out a hand, urging you closer to him. You complied, placing your hands and knees onto the bed as you crawled up to him. He guided you between his open legs, your stomach pressed against his as his lips found yours.

"Just stop me whenever, okay?" His eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt between them. Finding only reassurance, he placed his lips on yours, leaning back into the bed as you settled into him.

His mouth moved slow, hands moving down to rest where your thighs met the curve of your butt. You moaned into his mouth, feeling the way your skirt was pushed up.

"'S that okay?" he muttered, licking into your mouth between his words.

You nodded, moving so you straddled him. His gaze darkened, fingers finding the hem of your blouse as he pulled it off of you. The cold air of the room hit your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

His hands moved to cup at your breasts, slipping underneath the fabric of your bra.

"You're beautiful, you know that, babe?" He whispered into the air, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. You were exposed now, feeling so vulnerable under his gaze as his eyes undressed you further.

Reaching down, you pulled at his own shirt, feeling the muscles of his body tense as he leaned up to take it off. You leaned down, pressing your mouth to his once more. His tongue found its way into your mouth, sliding into yours with a sharp groan.

Your hips rutted against each other, your skirt hiked up to your hips for the second time today. A wet patch grew in the front of your panties, the red material becoming sticky with desperation.

He separated himself from you, flipping so you lay down on the bed. His fingers worked on his jeans, unbuttoning them before sliding them down his thighs. Throwing them across the room, he returned his body to yours, kissing down your jawline.

Your hips had a mind of their own, rutting into him with feverishly. You gasped at his kiss down your neck to your chest, mouth encompassing your hard nipple.

He moaned as his tongue worked the nerves there, eyes glancing up to your face to gauge a reaction. You were a mess, throwing your head back into the pillows as his tongue moved along your skin.

"F-fuck, Steve, need you." Incoherent phrases left your lips, mouth babbling with every move he made.

He giggled, tongue leaving your nipple as he kissed your stomach. Your skirt was pushed to your belly button at this point, his fingers pulling at the band of your panties as he made his way towards your core.

Placing a kiss over your clothed clit, he glanced once more up to you, "'M gonna make you feel so good, princess."

You moaned as he pulled your underwear off, legs widening as his tongue worked over your folds, darting out as it grazed over your fluttering hole. Your hips bucked into his face, his hand reaching out to press your hips into the bed.

Arching your back, you mewled as he sucked at your clit, free hand coming up to press a digit to your entrance.

"Need you inside," you muttered, reaching down to grab at his hair as he continued to lick at you. Two of his fingers pushed inside, your slick easing the way.

As he curled them inside you, tongue relentlessly hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top, you moaned louder and louder. That explosive orgasm was approaching you fast, tightening your core as he fingered you senselessly.

He moaned against you, feeling the way you released more slick against his fingers deep inside you.

"So wet, princess," he muttered against you, eyes gazing at you through his assault at your clit. You moaned, arching your back as he continued to tongue fuck you.

"'M close, Steve," you groaned, guiding his face further into you. He moaned in agreement, covering your nub with his mouth as he sucked hard and fast.

It started at your spine, the orgasm taking over your senses as you arched into him. His fingers didn't slow down, fucking you through it as its intensity grew. Pleasure rippled through your body, your breath coming in fast pants as you lost all words to say.

As your high came to an end, he left your heat, leaning up to kiss you. You tasted yourself on his lips, moaning at the wetness on his chin.

"Taste so good, baby," Steve whispered, reaching down to take off his own boxers. You looked down, seeing the weight of it pressed into your stomach. Fuck, he was big. "Just had to share."

His words immediately sent a wave of heat to your abdomen, pussy dripping with need as your orgasm wasn't enough. You needed this man.

You widened your legs, breathless as he hooked your ankle over his hips. His cock nudged at your entrance, pressing against the tight hole as you started into his eyes.

"Okay baby?" He asked, leaning on his elbow as that same hand brushed hair out of your face.

"Need you, Stevie."

He groaned at your words, pushing in slowly as you both moaned at the intrusion. There was a burn, the stretch slow but enough as you pulsed around his cock.

Stopping at the hilt, his hips were flush against yours. He leaned down to breath out into your hairline, hips slightly stuttering as he fought the urge to fuck into you.

"Feel so good, baby, fuck," he was breathless, words sounding caught in his throat. "So fucking tight, baby."

Your nails clawed at his back, face pressed into the hair at his chest as he breathed heavily.

"'M gonna move, okay, baby?"

You nodded, digging crescent shaped marks into his skin as his hips reared back before pressing into you again. The head of his cock rubbed against a bundle of nerves deep within you, leaving the two of you breathing heavy, urging small uh uh uh's out of you.

He pressed small kisses into your hairline, hips rutting into yours over and over as you arched into him. You both were close, fighting the urge to cum instantaneously.

The movement of his hips became sloppy, the slapping of skin echoing through the room, drowned out by the animalistic noises leaving your mouth.

"Fuck, I'm so close, sweetheart," he moaned, pressing his lips into yours. Your noises were swallowed by him, another orgasm overtaking you as he fucked you through it.

You felt yourself throb around him, a low groan escaping his lips as he released deep inside you. His orgasm was loud, him moaning into your mouth as he teeth dug into your bottom lip. The pain of it only made you cry out more, your hands finding his hips as he rode it out.

He groaned one last time, hips stopping before he pulled out of you, the wet noise sounding loud in the room. You grimaced at his absence, leaning over so you could cuddle into his side.

Steve laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I've got you, princess," he muttered, mouthing at you. You closed your eyes, ear pressed to his chest as you listened to the beat of his heart. Calmness took over you, a warm feeling settling into your core as you lay in his arms.

The bad decision you had once made in talking to him ended up being the best thing you could've done. The boy in your arms was everything and more you had wanted, you had needed in your life. Every mistake you had once thought you made was perfectly clear in this moment, leading you to the wonder that was Steve Harrington.

His breath sounded shallow, slow drags of air being taken as you settled into his arms. You thought of him asleep at this moment as you cuddled into him.

"I love you, Steve Harrington," you whispered into the quiet of the room. He made no move, his breath did not falter. You sighed, closing your eyes as you were set on sleep.

Moments passed, the sounds of the two of your breathing being the only thing you could hear for what seemed like ages.

"I love you too, yn."

Steve's whisper back, sent your heart racing again as you moved to look into his eyes. He was smiling at you through hooded eyes, blinking slowly. You pressed your lips to his before pulling away, staring into him once more.

I could enjoy this while it lasted, you thought to yourself. What's the harm in this?

[targaryen-dynasty]

WORSHIP ME INSTEAD.

Maegor Targaryen x Niece!Septa!Reader

The Gods have been unhappy with your uncle for some time now, but perhaps he's just needed to give them an offering… a sacrifice in return for a healthy heir all along. And what makes a better sacrifice than a septa?

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MDNI; very dubious consent, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle/niece), blasphemy, corruption, corruption kink, size difference, semi public sex, female reader (mentions long, silver hair as appearance)

WORDS: 3K

NOTES: you're all getting some big tiddy daddy as a special treat and to officially end my 3k celebration! thanks to everyone that has participated by asking questions, by writing their own fics, and by just supporting me. also a special thanks to @zaldritzosrose and @arcielee for betaing this. <3

The atmosphere in the newly completed Red Keep is strange. It never was comfortable or calm, not even when your father sat the throne, but it feels as though a dark veil is hanging low over the castle and its staff, not even sparing the king and your uncle, Maegor Targaryen. 

You’ve been gone from court for quite a while, being sent to Oldtown to become a septa by the very hands of the man you’re serving now, which has made the change in atmosphere even more apparent to you. 

Several deaths haunt the castle — Ceryse Hightower’s being the most recent one — and you can only fathom the pressure your uncle holds on his shoulders at this very moment. He does not have an heir, one wife after the other perishes, and the boy that poses the biggest threat to his claim to the throne, your brother Jaehaerys, has fled the castle of Dragonstone with your mother after the passing of the Dowager Queen Visenya. 

You were not mad at being sent to the Starry Sept, for it allowed you to leave the insanity of your own House for an unknown amount of time. It was when you’d been called back to King’s Landing that you could feel your mood sour. You were brought there with no real task for you at hand which forced you to take over some duties Grand Maester Benifer assigned you with. 

Your whole day has been spent in the Keep’s library, making you forgo your hood at one point and therefore allowing your silver tresses to cascade down your back freely. Wearing the hood is no necessity, hence your lack of concern should someone walk into the library and catch you without it. 

With several books in hand, you sort some of the scrolls and books that had been brought to the royal chambers before, putting them back to where they belong. 

You are too engrossed in your task to notice that you’ve been alone for the longest of time, only aware of that other presence the moment the raspy voice fills the room. “Septa,” he almost says it in a mocking manner, and you immediately know who it is that has joined you. 

Turning on your heels, you crane your neck to meet your uncle’s eyes for a moment. “Y-Your Grace.” You dip into a slight curtsy, placing the books in an empty place on the shelf.

Heat warms your cheeks in his presence. Even during your childhood, you have always found a liking for your uncle and enjoyed the way he allowed you to leave the boredom of your princessly duties to take you flying on Balerion or let you watch him train with the sword. 

“At ease, Septa,” he replies, flicking his hand as if he means to dismiss your stiff posture. The library is not well lit, a few candles sparsely placed here and there granting for most of the light, and yet you still notice the way his eyes rove over your form slowly and deliberately. “I trust that all is well in the Keep?”

Your heart races in your chest underneath his gaze, as if he contemplates eating you, and it makes you swallow thickly. “Oh, yes, of course. Everything is well, Your Grace,” you say, trying to keep your voice as calm and polite as possible, though you can not help but feel your pulse quickening at the hunger in his eyes. 

His lips curve into a smile, clearly taking pleasure in the way you’re squirming beneath his gaze. “And your duties? All going smoothly?” He takes a step towards you, looming over your small frame. 

You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep your composure, more so as his pleasant scent fills your nostrils in a way you can’t describe. Taking in a shaky breath, a shiver runs down your spine. It’s been easier being close to him when you were all but a child he’s bounced on his knee, not a woman grown.  

“Well enough,” you reply a beat later. “The new midwives are coming along wonderfully. The Queen can know herself in good hands should she be with child soon.”

Maegor just hums in response, reaching out a hand to drag his knuckles over your cheek, his calloused fingers rough against your soft skin. Even from this little contact he can feel how warm your flesh is, and a heat grows in his loins at the thought of how warm and sensitive your skin would be if it was no longer covered by your septa robes. 

“That is good then… Septa ,” he says, hesitating to use your title. His voice has dropped lower as his hand travels to your jaw, his thumb caressing your chin. 

Your eyes widen, but you don’t dare to step away from him for fear of the consequences. “... Your Grace?” You eventually find the courage to whisper. 

His fingers graze your jaw, gently tracing your features. A low hum rumbles in the depth of his chest. You don’t know that he’s always found you beautiful, much more than your younger sister Rhaena, and even more now that you’ve become a woman grown. You’re so unlike the women he usually entertains himself with. “Yes, Septa?” With these words leaving his lips, his hand travels down to your neck, gently wrapping around your throat, grasp firmly but not enough to hurt you. 

Drawing in a deep breath, that is the moment you decide to bring some space between you again, taking a step back. But much to your surprise, his grip does not falter, hand still around your throat with his arm just outstretched. “I–” you swallow thickly, not able to keep your gazes locked. “This… This is highly inappropriate, Your Grace.”

Maegor merely scoffs, and although his hand follows your movements, it’s clear it’s meant to stop you from getting away from him. His thumb gently runs along the sensitive skin of your throat, feeling your pulse quicken beneath the pad of it. “Inappropriate?” he murmurs, his dark blown eyes drinking in the sight of your slightly parted lips. “When have I ever cared for what was appropriate, Septa?”

It feels as though the gentle brush of his thumb coaxes another shiver to run down your spine, and you catch your mind straying to the thoughts of what it would feel like if his fingers were anywhere else but your neck. 

“Must… Must I remind His Grace that it was him sending me to Oldtown to become a septa? I–I have vowed–” you trail off, your voice shaking slightly. “It is not very proper for a septa to be touched in… this way.”

Moving forward again and closing the gap that has formed, his hand around your throat stops you from backing away. “It’s not proper, no…” he murmurs, leaning forwards to bring his lips on level with your ear. “But then again, I’ve never been a proper man.”

You suppress an involuntary gasp as you feel his hot breath fanning over your skin, enough to nearly melt you here and now. Perhaps his grip leaves you more as a willing prisoner to his mercy rather than his prey. A part of you wants to pull away, yet the other part is afraid of angering him by doing so. 

“Y–Your Grace…” you whisper, the sound of your voice almost breathless as his domineering presence makes it difficult to think straight, “... please.”

The wicked smirk on his lips grows wider at your pleading. He can feel himself getting lost in your voice, so soft yet sounding so helpless in his presence. If it hasn’t been obvious before, he takes immense pleasure in the way he towers over your frame, making you appear so small and fragile clad in your septa robes. 

“Please what, niece ?” he says, leaning in even more to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. 

You try to tilt your head to get away from him, squirming in his grasp, but to no avail. “Īlon kessa daor,” you try to reason with him in the tongue of your ancestors, a small flicker of hope that this brings some sort of clarity back to him. We should not. 

But Maegor just chuckles lowly, the grip around your throat tightening slightly. Your breathing is uneven, shaky even, with your body pressed against his, and he relishes in the feeling of your vulnerability. “Kostilus īlon kessa daor,” he replies, a dangerous lilt in his tone. “Yn gaoman sīr jorrāelagon raqagon ra nyke kessa daor.” Perhaps we should not. But I do so love to indulge in things I shouldn’t.

Before you can answer, you’re spun around by him, the movement unusually fluid and graceful, as if he’s done it plenty of times before. Your back presses against his sturdy chest, pinning you between him and the bookshelf with no way to escape. The hand from your throat rests on your waist instead, the fabric of your robe pinched between his fingers.

“That’s much better, is it not?” he teases in a murmur. 

The vow of chastity you’ve sworn plays over and over again in your mind, but does little to stop your knees from growing weak at the proximity. 

“This is not a good idea… uncle ,” you protest quietly. It’s completely out of place for you to address him as such, he is the king and you’re a mere septa that has set aside her last name, but neither the Mother Above nor the Maiden can stop him from getting under your skin. 

“Perhaps, but where is the fun in a good idea, huh?”

You’re a septa, and you’re supposed to be a pious and celibate woman, but at this moment all you can think of is how good it feels to have him this close to you, so very close to giving you more – something you’ve craved for a long time. 

Both your hands are captured by his paw, pinning them behind your back and making you unable to move. While his lips explore the side of your neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses, his other hand rucks up the skirt of your robe, bunching it around your waist. It’s pinched by the fingers of his other hand, held high and allowing him to pay more attention to your undergarments. 

If you weren’t so distracted by the coarse hairs of his beard scratching the sensitive skin of your neck with each kiss he pressed to it, you would have attempted to squeeze your thighs together, making it more difficult for him to tug down your smallclothes. But alas, your mind and body are too far gone from all the summers you have spent untouched and unsatisfied, addicted to the rush his touch sends through your body. 

He is hard and heavy behind you, the outline of his thick cock pressing against the curve of your arse. You're too desperate for something you have only imagined at night, making you arch your back as though you mean to make him hurry up. You can feel him fumble with the laces of his breeches, undoing them one by one. 

“We’ll just have to be good at not getting caught,” he rasps against your neck. The robe you wear offers almost no liberty to push it down to reveal more of your soft skin and the curve where your neck meets your shoulder to him, and so he has to make do with your neck alone. 

Your uncle is met with little resistance as he sheaths his hard cock inside of your warm cunt, filling you up at once. Not even the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into the skin at the curve of your neck grants you enough distraction from the stinging that comes with accommodating his size, your cunt struggling to take him completely. 

“By the Seven,” you whimper, your hands clenching to fists in his grasp while your walls flutter around him.  

Your soft whimpers are enough to drive him further into his need for you already, and the gentle rolls of his hips make your knees slacken, caught by him bringing his free hand to your chin to pull your body against his. “There is no need for the Gods here, my sweet Septa,” Maegor rasps into your ear, emphasizing his words with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips that makes you choke on a whine. “You may worship me instead.”

His grip on your chin forces you to tilt your head back and arch your back against him to hold up with the slowly increasing pace of his thrusts, and your teeth digging into your bottom lip is a fruitless attempt of yours to stifle a moan coaxed past them by that. 

The sound of your moans and whimpers sparks something in him, prompting him to growl against your skin. It tightens the grip he has on your chin to the point it becomes borderline painful with how much he has tilted it back. 

“Don’t hold back,” he grunts, resting his forehead against the crown of your head. “Let me hear you, sweetling.”

Although your mouth is agape, no more sounds than breathy whimpers and whines leave your lips, despite the reckless pounding of him. But when another moan manages to escape your chest, it strains your throat to the point you have to cough once. 

Sensing your discomfort, he eases the grip just slightly, shifting it to your throat and allowing your head to tip forward again. You’re desperate to fill your lungs with air, yet each breath is knocked out of them by the merciless snaps of his hips. 

“That’s it,” he groans, nudging your legs further apart with his foot. “The Gods have been unhappy with me for some time now, but perhaps I’ve just needed to give them an offering… a sacrifice.” He’s just rambling into your hair at this point, and your mind is too hazy to really process anything he says.

You’ve been so inexperienced and have spent so much time completely untouched that even the slapping of his heavy sac of stones against your pearl brings you a pleasure beyond imagination. 

He towers over you, your small frame completely hidden by his significantly taller one. It’s such an easy game for him to keep you where he wants, to use you however he pleases, and at this point you’d let him do whatever he desires with you for as long as you get to relive the sensations you feel over and over again. 

Your peak washes over you in an ambush, the pleasure all but soaring through your veins. But his assault on your cunt doesn’t stop, and when the urge overcomes you to squeeze your thighs together, it doesn’t seize. 

“Perhaps the Gods haven’t been giving me a healthy heir because they need me to fill you up,” he growls as if he’s been waiting for this since the moment he’d sent you to Oldtown, his voice raspy and thick with need. “Perhaps the Seven will bless me with a son if my seed quickens within you.”

His words nearly send you to your knees if it wasn’t for his muscular arm wrapped around your frame. A renewed wave of your arousal oozes out of your cunt at the thoughts of you carrying his child, yet it also makes you shudder, a feeling of guilt lingering in the pit of your belly. “By… By the Gods… T-The Seven would not–” you protest weakly, your voice a little more than a gasp. But even to your own ears your protest sounds more like a pleading than denial. 

Pulling you even closer against him, Maegor nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, teeth grazing the exposed flesh of your shoulder gently. “My little Septa,” he murmurs, the nickname almost sounding like an insult and a taunt. “You say we can not, yet you press yourself against me… are you so desperate for my cock?”

That is the moment you lose any resemblance of restraint you’ve held before, your mind becoming blank, his merciless pounding, and words forcing every thought right out of your brain. You whine a string of incoherent words, rambling one ‘yes’ after the other. 

It’s as if he’s just as desperate, because you can feel his thrusts becoming more and more erratic, a sign that lets you know he is about to topple over the edge. With a few more thrusts, he forces his thick cock into you, until a strained groan heralds his peak. His twitching cock spills his seed deep inside of your quivering cunt, and you squeeze him ever so tightly in response, all but milking him for every drop. 

He squeezes your flesh and trails both his hands over your body, mapping out the curves hiding beneath the robe. His thrusts grow leisurely, the feeling of pure bliss subsiding rather quickly for him. 

Shame and guilt for what just has happened overcomes you, growing stronger the moment he pulls out and you feel the remnants of his spend idly trickle down your thighs.

You don’t dare pull around. You don’t want to meet his gaze, to see the smugness and satisfaction written over his features at having convinced you to give in to him. 

“I suppose I have kept you away from your duties for long enough,” he says, his voice dripping with irony. “You’re a septa, and I believe you have some more duties to tend to.”

Nodding weakly in agreement, you can’t shake off the feelings of being exposed and vulnerable under his piercing gaze. It takes a moment for your brain to function again, the fog of need and pleasure only slowly clearing from your mind. 

“You’re right, Your Grace,” you say, voice weak and shaky. “I should… I should get going…” Dipping your head in a nod, you’re quick to scurry off, hastily looking around on your way out of the library in hope of no one having seen you in your moment of indiscretion.

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @k4marina @foxyanon @peachysunrize @nats-whore

@palmer-hjp @sinarainbows @luvdella

General Taglist: @arcielee @userhotd @multyfangirl @zaldritzosrose @black-dread

@wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @thought--bubble @dixie-elocin @beautbuck

[meyousing]

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐀 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re used to light being distant, so when he decides to lay the affection on heavy and proposes a new idea to you at the same time, you’re helplessly intrigued. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: nsfw, yandere light yagami x reader, idk if this matters to say right off the bat but you’re wearing a skirt :] also mentions of death like always lol but none fr! alsoalso this idea has probably been done to death by now but to be fair I started this A YEAR AGO!! pls enjoy despite that lol ily <3

“What is it?” his eyes sharpened as they narrowed at you from across the room, voice laced with blatant boredom. That was what you told yourself anyway, truly hoping that it was boredom and not annoyance because the look he always gave you at times like this made you cave in on yourself, instantly regretting whatever you had done to be such a bother. All that you were doing now was laying idly on his bed, legs swinging out of habit as you were on your stomach and flipping through a magazine that he had given as a pacifier. Maybe he knew that you were actually keeping your eyes on him this entire time, rather than the sheets before you.

“What do you mean?” playing dumb never worked with Light, but you would always do it anyway. It could provide a delay of the inevitable if nothing else. 

You heard the tap of his pen as he dropped it on his desk, followed by the soft thud of his notebook closing before he stood from his chair. A regular notebook, you noticed, thankfully.

“Trying to outsmart me again?”

Right, his interpretation of your playing dumb was much less simple than what you intended to get across. Of course, he knew that you knew better, so your deception was instead seen as defiance; a flaunt of superiority. 

“Of course not,” you shut your magazine, sliding it to the side of the bed and cringing when it slid off of the bed, crumpling up in an ironically tense pile on the floor. Surely Light wasn’t too attached to it, as he merely spared it a passing glance before casting his eyes upon you once more. Then he began to approach, making you swallow a newfound lump in your throat as you scampered back to sit up on your haunches. 

“Then what is it?” he leaned over you, his hands resting at your sides with your faces inches apart. His breath was slow through his nose, soft and cold as each exhale blew onto the tip of your nose. 

How to tell him that the stupid magazine didn’t pacify you at all, that only his attention could soothe you? And how embarrassing it could get if you admitted to the exact type of attention that you needed. 

He began leaning closer as your mind raced, thinking of a different possible answer, but then it went entirely blank as he was close enough to brush his lips over yours. Tantalizingly, the gentlest nudge and he only did it once before pulling back slightly, you could have missed it had your brain continued thinking so hard. The sensation nearly made you crumble, a chill shooting down your spine as you inhaled and resisted the urge to wet your now trembling lips, focusing on maintaining your posture. He knew how to break you, you didn’t want him to see it happen this soon.

“Nothing” was all you could say without simply blabbering out every dirty thought plaguing your mind.

“You never stare at me like that for nothing,” he said pointedly, even adding a cheeky but very slight tilt of his head. Had your stare really been so obvious? You truly did try to be subtle. Either way, you found it humorous how he could go from cold with seemingly deadened emotions to a teaser within minutes. Finding it humorous helped you cope with how scary you knew he could be. 

With the lightest shove to his chest you could muster alongside a bashful turn of your head, you tried creating some space between yourselves to alleviate the fast beating of your heart.

“Really, it’s nothing. I didn’t mean to distract you from your work…” Your hand lingered on his chest after the little push, kneading the material of his shirt idly as you hoped this excuse would suffice. This mannerism alone proved the opposite of your hopes to him. 

When the full press of his lips fell upon yours in a genuine kiss this time, you knew that you had failed. Even more so when you subconsciously deepened it with a lean closer, making your grip on his shirt firmer to keep him from moving away. Though it seemed he had no intention of doing so, instead easing you down to lay your back against his mattress, crawling over you as soon as you were horizontal. 

This kiss, unlike all of his others which would be quick and half-assed–your lips barely meeting before he was already turning his head away to tend to some other matter–was compassionate. One of his hands found the side of your face and he caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, his other fingers which became entangled in your hair from the placement were massaging your scalp soothingly. The sensation lulled you and had you sinking even deeper into his bed while pulling him along with you, your fingertips meeting at the back of his neck and fiddling with the ends of his hair. While this kiss was unusual, it was not unwelcome. 

You didn’t know that there would be a catch to this sudden affection.

You could feel Light smirking against you, his entire aura darkening once he did, so much that you could feel it–and your reaction to such a peculiarity was communicated with a tensing of your shoulders. Upon sensing this, Light was quick to groan and prod his tongue against your bottom lip, which surprised you further and allowed him to invade your mouth. The intimate sound he let out and the way he just seemed so infatuated with you right now had your heart racing. 

This moment ended almost as quickly as it started though, he pulled away from you and nudged his nose against yours. You tried not to show your disappointment, but you knew that it must have been obvious when a frown graced your lips. 

“I want to try something.”

This could go in any direction. He was always so unpredictable, mood changing on a dime whether it was for better or worse. 

“What’s that?” you asked with a small voice, indicative of your anxiety about the unknown. You were already playing right into his hands.

“I want to reward you for being so obedient.”

A reward? Who is this and what has he done with your Light?!

His hand on your cheek rubbed it once more before he lifted himself off of you, steadying himself with hands on your waist as he did. You remained in your place, only watching with your eyes as he leaned over to reach into his desk and a drawer.

The drawer.

You turned your head with a gulp as you watched him retrieve his arm, now holding the dreaded notebook that you had tried to shield yourself from, trying to stay ignorant for the sake of keeping your relationship peaceful with the man you couldn’t help but love. 

“So long as your obedience remains the same, you’ll be rewarded. We’re going to test it right now.” 

He placed the book by your hand which had fallen to your side once he moved, putting his pen between your loose fingers and adjusting it until it stayed still there without tipping over. Your limbs had frozen, so it was no tough feat for him. You were shocked even further when Light’s expression altered somewhat once he actually took notice of how tense you were. Last you could remember, he couldn’t care less when your discomfort was so obvious. 

“It really is going to be rewarding for you. Don’t you trust me?”

He always had to ask you that. How much more obvious could you be about your unequivocal devotion to him, your infinite trust? You’d been by his side all this time, yet he would still ask, nearly daily, most commonly before asking you to do something that you didn’t want to do. As if anyone else would remain with him when finding out his secret, and he still doubted you.

“You know I do.” You murmured, fingers twitching around the cold pen in your grasp. 

“Then at least hear me out” he chuckled dryly, not with any sense of legitimate humour. You tried to be subtle as you swallowed the lump in your throat, having heard such an impatient laugh come from him countless times before.

“This won’t be going away any time soon,” he patted the notebook, “and I can tell that you won’t be either. I mean, as long as you keep following along with me, here.” He glimpsed at you differently then, as if his eyes were asking you to challenge that statement.

You only nodded. Light grinned.

“Good.”

His fingers moved to peel open the book, and you glanced away from it as he skimmed past so many pages that were filled from margin to margin with names. The crisp sounds of paper brushing together stopped once he found a blank one.  

Your eyes stayed on him, and you could feel some burning bile churn and slosh around in your gut as a little smirk pulled at his lips. His eyes darkened when they met yours.

His free hand, which was out of your line of sight, traced the waistband of your skirt. You flinched slightly in surprise, and Light’s smirk widened as he leaned closer to you.

“Write your name.”

Despite being unmoving already, you froze even further, stiffening like a stone and watching him desperately, trying to detect any hint of jesting in his demand. But the wickedness surrounding Light was unrelenting; he meant what he said. 

“What?” you asked quietly, needing to hear it again to really believe that he meant it.

“Start writing your name. Trust me, won’t you?” 

“I-I do–”

“I know. So do it.” Light’s tone was more firm now. 

You could only hold your breath when your eyes flitted over to your hand, your fingers readjusting the pen as you tried to point it toward the paper. The book itself felt alive, you could sense its unreal gaze–like it was taunting you, mocking and laughing at you, tempting you to write, and calling you a coward if you dared to show any hesitation because it shouldn’t be that hard. 

Having been with Light for so long now, you fully understood the notebook’s functionality. Knowing that, would it really be so crazy if you were being a coward about this? 

“Any time now, love” Light’s voice became impatient, and when you looked up at him, his kneeling posture was equivalent to being on the edge of his seat. He looked like he could implode had you made it this far and chose to back out now, he was so eager. You’d hate to disappoint him, even if his little pet name for you was clearly insincere.

Your body went cold and numb once you pushed the tip of the pen against the page, watching the smallest droplet of dark ink soak into the lines. Your hand remained stagnant following this, and you spared a short glance up at Light, noting how his eyes were stuck on the pen. You took in a breath, holding it and letting your lungs fill so you’d become a little lightheaded–a little less aware of this horrible reality–before moving further with utmost reluctance to drag the tool, lining the shape of the first letter in your name.

You could hear Light exhaling as you finally did. You couldn’t let out that breath of your own just yet. Maybe your cause of death would be suffocation, then.

Your focus was ripped away from the note in an instant once you felt a cold fingertip trace over your clit from above your panties, making your body jolt as you met eyes with Light. He wasn’t looking at you yet, only doing so once you stopped writing. 

“Go on. I’m staying true to my word.” To emphasize this, he pressed down against your clit again, his push firm but gentle–leaving you on the cusp of craving more as the sensation gave you chills, yet also sent heat through your lower half. 

So pathetically, that small second of pleasure was enough to incentivize a continuation, and you managed to finish printing that very first letter. 

“Good…”

He resumed what he had been doing, gently circling your bud and using the advantage of that added layer from your panties to optimize the friction; encouraging you. You could feel the way that you were starting to get wet, soaking the material and only making such movements smoother for Light. 

You paused as the feeling grew slightly more intense, coping, and your pause made Light do the same. You two were playing a little game, it seemed, and you obviously didn’t want it to stop–you had to keep going. You had wanted him minutes before this, after all, and you were finally getting what you craved.

Letter two manifested; your grip on the writing utensil weakened as he pulled your panties aside to touch your skin directly. 

You shuddered from the sudden cool air that brushed along your exposed skin, and he dragged some of your slick up from your pussy, using it to make rubbing into your clit that much easier, that much more pleasurable. Your limbs shuddered and you had to breathe out a more vocal huff of air in exasperation, your lungs aching while your muscles tensed in delight from Light’s direct tending to such newfound sensitivity. 

You remained paused with your eyes shut firmly as you became accustomed to the bliss that he inflicted. Light, seeming to understand exactly what he was doing to you, was a bit more forgiving now–continuing his ministrations even when you stopped, but not changing his pace or furthering the intensity enough for those feelings to grow, to bring you closer to any type of climax. It still made you moan though; still made your heart skip a beat and made your walls tighten around nothing. 

Perhaps you had been successfully swindled into playing with fire because now your mind understood a simple formula; if you wanted more, you had to keep writing. Would he let you come if you wrote your entire name down?

Would you even feel the aftershocks of your release before you died?

The prospect of death hit your lust-fogged mind like a truck, and your eyes shot open–that slowly building knot in your abdomen became a tightrope clenching out of fear rather than anticipation. This was a death note, and you were already on track to penning yourself down within it. 

Light could sense your change in stature and returned his gaze to your face once again. His hand slowed, but it was as if he could detect your worry and didn’t want to let you succumb to it–he wanted to keep you within the cusp of pleasure, to keep you malleable and submissive to his desires, not whatever lies your mind was telling you. So he kept touching you.

“You know that you can’t stop now that you’ve started, right?” He looked cocky, like he had you right where he wanted you. And it seemed that he did, because now with such confusion and so many conflicting feelings plaguing you, you weren’t sure about that–could you back out now? Was the damage already done now that your first name was almost down entirely?

Your drying lips parted as if to ask, but you couldn’t find your voice. Light let out a short, dry laugh and nodded his head, his face inches away from yours, like he fucking knew.

“Mhm. You have to keep going, now. You’d better hurry, too. You know that there’s a time limit… don’t you?”

Your lungs were burning and your hips squirmed as he traced his fingers around your core, swirling them within your copious wetness and gently prodding his fingers, hardly getting inside of you, yet you still writhed from the sensitivity of such a precise, close touch. 

You shook your head deliriously in delayed response to his words and all Light did was nod his own head toward the book again. Suddenly you were reminded of the pen in your grasp which had now absorbed the growing heat from your palm; hot to the touch. 

Noting that apparent time limit, you felt your heart thrumming as it raced and you started writing again. The pace of your fingers scraping the pen back and forth was a little quicker than before, yet you couldn’t shake that lingering hesitance even while knowing that you really should have been rushing. Light hummed as he watched, nonchalantly pushing a finger inside of you as you progressed, which made a whiny sound catch in your throat, and made your back lift slightly off the bed. 

Your arm trembled and your chicken scratch ceased again, but Light knew that he had you, because you hurried to carry on with haste once more, and he didn’t bother to stop stroking inside of you anymore. He even slid in another finger following the last time he pulled out, the added thickness made your thighs attempt to close from the new nerve-tingling pleasure that it gave, even despite the way that his body between your legs kept you nice and open for him. 

“Please,” you bartered, voice muffled and representative of the state you were in; wholly weak. He grinned and kept going, his body solid in its place on top of you, forcing you to take it even as his skilled fingers overwhelmed you so deliciously. You wanted the end result now–you wanted to come, to feel that sweet release by his hand. 

Light initiated this entire thing, he set his rules, and you knew that finishing wouldn’t happen just like that, because it wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Please what, Y/N? You already know what you have to do. Don’t play stupid.” 

The little jab at the end hurt only a little bit, making your stomach drop, making you feel as stupid as he said–but his fingertips rubbed along and pressed into your sweet spot which made you whimper, and that feeling was all you could focus on now; remedying the sting of the insult with the soothing cradle of his fingers. Oh, how successfully he was able to distract you and change the path of your thoughts once again. You could hardly bring yourself to care about such blatant manipulation, because release was getting closer and closer, and that was all you wanted.

You couldn’t even tell if the pen was pressing into the paper hard enough to leave any writing behind at all; your hand was hardly moving because your eyes remained shut in elation, and you chose to squeeze the pen in your fist as you coped with his touch, but Light just seemed content with the fact that you were resuming any transfer of penmanship at all. He was certainly rewarding you as he promised, keeping his fingers inside of you until his knuckles pushed into the plush of your pussy lips, and they rocked into you so good that you could almost feel that hard pressure in your stomach. 

It was starting to become too much–you knew how close you were getting, but you didn’t know if that’s what Light wanted. He liked to be in control of most things in his life, and you were at the very top of that list. 

“I-I can’t, I’m gonna–” 

A gasp-like mewl left you once you felt a hot, wet stroke against your clit at the same time that Light pushed rather hard against your g-spot, holding his fingers there and making you squirm. Your eyes shot open and you craned your neck off of the mattress to look down, watching as his lips closed around your clit and sucked it into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and keeping his eyes on yours the entire time. Your entire body shuddered, it was so intense that you had to try and pull away, but he wasn’t having it, using his free hand to pin your hip down and keep you still.

“Light,” you whined, a warning to him that he was pleasing you too well too quickly, you were about to come and you were hardly finished with writing down your first name. 

His eye contact only became bolder, he didn’t relent, if anything he was trying to get more out of you; intent on making you come now. He hadn’t instructed you otherwise, so you felt safe enough to finally give in–with a weak, raspy whimper you felt yourself release that buildup of desire, your vision turning into static behind closed lids as your body writhed and churned even while he kept you down, putting himself against you with more force. Your hips rocked into his mouth to ride out every last remnant of your orgasm until you felt no more, the only sound that you could hear was your own heavy breathing and Light’s last few caresses against your audibly sopping wet pussy.

 Light moved off of you slowly, and you noted that his eyes were trained on the book rather than your body that now glistened with a light sheen of sweat. Before you could say anything to him (but even then, what could you say?), his eyes scanned over the page and your writing while he nonchalantly wiped your release off of his fingers, onto the material of your skirt. 

You followed his line of sight and looked over your work, seeing how scribbled and disastrous it was. You had probably produced better writing back in kindergarten. 

Now that your heat had finally been tended to, however; your arousal sated, you blinked a few times, then realized exactly what you were looking at: part of your name, written in the death note. 

What about the time limit? Was your first name enough to make it work either way? Your heart began to race and so did your breathing–were these the side effects of the incoming, inevitable heart attack?!

I suppose the cause wasn’t suffocation after all, a fleeting voice said so sarcastically in the back of your head, making you grimace. You propped yourself up on your elbows in a panic and your eyes flew back to Light, who was still skimming over the page with a look of maintained scrutiny. He was so… calm. Were you not about to die? Did he not care?

“That’s a good start,” he murmured, reaching out to trace his index finger (the one that wasn’t just buried in you to the hilt) along the shaky lines that hardly resembled any of the alphabet. 

“Wha–” You could only heave the word out since it felt like your heart was beating in your throat, though your body gradually relaxed as Light seemed completely neutral to the situation. The longer that he did nothing, the more time passed, and you realized that… you were still here.

When silence fell completely between both of you, Light looked over with such casualty that you felt like none of what just happened even did. 

“If we can get to your last name next time, too, maybe I’ll actually fuck you.” He slid off the bed as he spoke, his tone so normal as if he was just talking to you about the weather, making your jaw drop. He grabbed the book and closed it, walking over to the drawer and taking his sweet time ensuring that it was properly put away. 

All you could do was lay there in silent disbelief, watching him with wide eyes while he acted like nothing even happened.

“I’m fine, then?” you asked, your voice firmer and a little louder than normal, more demanding for direct answers. Light glanced over at you and laughed coldly, standing up straight once the drawer was closed once again, his hands on his hips lazily.

“I like that you’re a little dumb, Y/N. It makes things like this more exciting, don’t you think?” 

Before you could respond verbally–only able to scoff for now–Light turned to leave the room, murmuring a nearly inaudible “I’ll get some water” before the door closed behind him. His muffled footsteps became more distant as he descended downstairs, isolating you to the top floor.

Helplessly flumping back against the bed, you stared at the ceiling, reliving everything that had just happened in a mental state that you imagined neurosis to feel like. Although, you didn’t have to worry for long… you would get used to it. You understood that this was not going to be the first time something like this would happen, Light was truly only getting started with you. 

© meyousing 2023. do not share/export my work on to any other platforms. do not translate my work. 

[mellowwillowy]

CW: A literal Serial Killer, obv gore description.

Yan! Serial Killer who didn't expect to fall head over heels for you, his supposed next victim. Don't get him wrong, he still wishes he could just yank those eyeballs out of your eye sockets and dip them into his cup of tea but he will refrain from doing so, just yet.

Yan! Serial Killer who loves to hide under your bed and waits for you to either fall asleep, stay up like a bat, or do your business. He's savoring every little noise you make like a fine wine.

Yan! Serial Killer who will actually stay in your home like he lives in it. Won't hesitate to make himself a dinner if you are a heavy sleeper (can always just knock you out with sleeping pills). That said he will also shower in your home, savoring the scent of the products you are using

Yan! Serial Killer who actually helps you in one way or another! Oh goodie, you ran out of soap! Here, let him refill it for you. Wait, you got a stain on your shirt. tsk tsk tsk, this will do justice. Hm? Are we running out of eggs? A visit to the market will solve the problem!

Yan! Serial Killer who loves to collect the eyeballs of anyone who dares to look at you for more than 5 seconds adoringly. He's lucid enough to differentiate which one to be spared and which one is not.

Yan! Serial Killer who almost squeals happily when you acknowledge him indirectly. "Perhaps my fairy godmother has finally come to help me," you quoted.

Yan! Serial Killer who can't help but stroke one out on your sleeping figure, his hand lifting your pajama up to reveal your chest. He will go as far as to rub his cock against your sex then whoops, plunge it into your hole <3

Yan! Serial Killer who contemplates whether he should cum inside you or not. One thing leads to another, and he chooses not to (It's rather troublesome to wash you up so he just came inside your mouth <3

!! Gore Warning !! (You don't have to read it if you are not a fan of it, nb: Cannibalism and Necrophilia + Backstory)

Yan! Serial Killer who somehow adores the idea of gutting you and feeling your innards, tasting how your heart beats against his tongue, or playing with guts as though he is making dough.

Yan! Serial Killer who adores you so much that he won't stop rutting against you, fucking you despite your state, cold and unmoving. Dead. He might even treat himself by burying himself deep in your guts huh?

Yan! Serial Killer who will not let death separate you two. Didn't you know that the reason he fell for you? Ah, you didn't know why he is branded as a serial killer too right?

Erickson is a man of wonder, due to his upbringing as the first heir of an infamous dukedom, he has been spoiled rotten with everything he has always wanted.

Nonetheless, he feels like he has never even once been given what he truly wanted because the supposed first heir is supposed to be his twin brother, Noel, who came out first.

In the mansion where his family resided, there was a servant who caught his twin brother's heart. A girl, or a boy? He pondered. It appeared that you were an orphan that his mother took in out of pity for your state.

It was not love nor fascination. It was the urge to take and destroy what Noel possessed and adored. And this kept going even until the three of you grew up as adults.

He would do anything to tarnish his brother's life, his position, his honor, and his beloved. That would also include you, his unrequited lover whom he accidentally met during his killing spree.

It was boredom that killed him and killing people kept him away from boredom. But you? You surely would not fail to ease his boredom for you were whom his brother longed for. And what Noel longed for would be what Erickson longed for as well, alas loving you in his stead.

[satorusugurugurl]

The Headboard

Summary: when you find yourself in a compromising position, you’re lucky that you’re a hot neighbor who just so happens to be a firefighter, is just next door.

Pairing: firefighter!Toji Fushigurux AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2,935

Warning: Language, smut, p-in-v, mentions of sex toys, degradation, name calling, unprotected smut.

A/N: A genuine fear I had often thought about when people tell me this is what they do. Plus, the DILF vibes were strong today.

Fushiguro Toji had no complaints about having you as a neighbor. You’re kind and quiet; you even watched Megumi for him if he needed a sitter. You would invite him and his son to your apartment for dinner, or he would do the same for you. The whole of being neighbors became friendship, and friendship turned into longing. Toji hated it when you would bring home someone who wasn’t good enough for you. He would spoil you rotten but didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

Nothing would be worse than an interaction after an awkward one-night stand that ended with you both not talking to each other because he would be the first to admit that he liked having you over for dinner. He enjoyed it when you came over with cookies or watched a movie with him and his son. If things were to become awkward or standoffish with you, that might be one of the worst things to happen to them in a very long time.

So, he would wait a bit to see how things would progress with you. Maybe once the lingering glances and the accidental brushes of your hands would turn into a little bit more. Perhaps once he better understood you and how you might feel, consider telling you he wanted to be more than friends.

Those thoughts ran through his mind as he sprawled out on his couch, not paying any attention to the movie on the television. Megumi was at a sleepover with his best friend Yuuji. He was all alone, not being stuck at the firehouse on call, filling his quiet evening with boredom.

Maybe he should call and ask if you want to come over; you could both watch a movie to make the most of a boring night. Just as he reached for his phone to call you, your name and profile picture popped up on his phone. Toji answered the phone with a slight grin, holding it against his ear.

“Hey, I was just about to call you. Do you wanna come—”

“Toji, you’re a firefighter, right?”

Your voice sounded breathless, almost with a hint of timidness. “Yeah, you know that. Why did you start a grease fire next door? Do not try to put it out with water; smother it with some flour.” You laughed only to be cut off with a whine.

“Uhm, uh—no, not that.” you sighed, “Y-you've seen some weird stuff, right? Like helped people?”

“Yeah, despite the title firefighter, I’m also medically trained and have helped many people in different scenarios. Why, what happened?”

The silence for a long moment told you to think that maybe, just maybe, the line disconnected before he heard him wince. “I-I need your help. But you have to promise you’ll never tell a soul about this.” A mixture of different emotions currently course through every nerve of his body. He’s concerned that you’re hurt, and his interest is peaked as to what you got yourself into this time.

“Of course, you have my word. I promise I won't say anything.”

“Good,” cloth rustles in the background, “you can come over right now. You still have my spare key. You still have my spare key.”

“Yeah, you gave it to me to water your plants that always die.”

“I don't have a green thumb sue me! Now please grab your medical bag and get your ass over here!”

The tone of your voice had him getting off the couch in a snap.” Alright, be there in a sec.” without you even having to ask, Toji grabbed his medical bag and your spare key.

You're nowhere to be found when he steps inside your apartment. “Hey?” He calls out, smirking slightly. “Fire department.” A squeak resonates from the bedroom.

“In here!” you call out, voice shaky, “b-but before you come in, I will emphasize that if you tell anyone! And I mean anyone about this, I will rip your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

Toji almost tells you not to threaten him with a good time, but he knows you from the whine that leaves the room. You were obviously in pain, and we’re taking this very seriously. Instead of making lighthearted jokes and conversation to push your buttons, he put on the best professional face before entering your room. The second he looks at your bed, his jaw drops to the floor in shock.

You’re naked from the waist down, your body bent forward, your ass pressed against the headboard. Your knee must’ve gotten stuck between the headboard and your mattress from how you're bent. Making it impossible for you to move in the predicament you found yourself in. Your cheeks are flushed as you averted your gaze, not daring to look at him. Toji was a smart guy; he was able to put two and two together.

Someone was having some alone time, and things had taken a terrible turn.

“What happened?” Toji clears his throat as he trots forward, opens his medical bag, and slips on some black latex-free gloves.

You want to crawl under your bed and cry out in embarrassment. How could you have put yourself in such an embarrassing situation? It was bad enough that you had gotten yourself stuck, and it was ten times worse now that the man you’ve had a crush on since you moved into the building was here helping you! But you would rather him find out what a size queen you were than call the fire department.

“I uhm, the uh—” you motion back to your headboard where your thrusting toy was stuck to your headboard. “It hit—my cervix hard, and I jumped, and my knee slipped between my mattress and my headboard.”

“Huh—okay, just try to relax a bit. I will look into getting that knee out first.” He gets on the bed behind you before gently grabbing your knee. As he does, the movement causes you to slide further down the toy, causing it to hit your cervix for a second time. The sharp, pleasurable pain can be felt from the tips of your toes to your head as you let out a pained moan. “Sorry.” Toji’s voice sounds more profound and more fierce. That you had never heard before; it was a voice that made every nerve in your body slowly awaken with lust.

“I-It’s okay—”

He gently moves your leg again, freeing it slightly. “So,” he goes with the questions when you were sure he was going to ask, “your boyfriend busy or something?” His question held no humor to it; instead, it was pure curiosity, and his voice made the nerves that reignited tingle with anticipation.

“What boyfriend? Who said I had a boyfriend?”

Toji glances at the curve of your ass, admiring the arch of your back, before he goes back to gently moving your leg. “Oh, I just assumed a pretty thing like you had one.” His hand gently grumps your ass as he maneuvers your leg a little bit more to the left, freeing it another inch.

“Do you honestly think if I had a boyfriend, I would’ve stuck a dildo to my headboard?”

“Hey, to each their own. So, no boyfriend?”

“Yep, single and ready to mingle. I let my friend convince me to try this position. She said it would liven up my solo sessions.” For as long as you can remember, the only way you masturbated was on your back. When you had mentioned this to your friends, they had been mortified, telling you there was more than one way to get yourself off. You so stupidly let them talk you into buying this stupid, expensive dildo and decided to give it a shot. That shot ended up with your knee stuck between your mattress and the wall and having to rely on your neighbor to help you.

“Hm,” Toji gave your ass a firm squeeze before gently pushing you forward off the toy a couple of inches, drawing out the sweetest sounds from your throat. “Would now be an inappropriate time to ask you out?”

A choked sound of shock cut off the moan that had begun to rise in your throat. There was no way he had just asked you out on a date—your hot neighbor. The sexy firefighter next door asked you on a date. Was this a prank? Oh god, why did he have to ask you out now, of all times? Despite the searing embarrassment, you can’t help but giggle, turning to look back at the massive man.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I think you’re hot and good with my kid; plus, I can make you feel so much better than this stupid toy.”

Heat began to pool in your abdomen as you continued to watch him carefully. “Oh, is that so?” he pulls his hand away from the fat of your ass, only to bring it back down, slapping it, making you help in pleasure and surprise.

“It's a fucking promise.” The tip of his pink tongue runs over the scar on his lip. “So, dinner?”

You laugh breathlessly, throwing your head back as he massages the sting out of your ass. “Would you be opposed to me counteroffering that?” Toji hand on your leg gently moves another inch, freeing you from the abyss you had been stuck in.

“Well, that depends on what your counteroffer is?”

The muscles in your leg burn with relief as you stretch it out, getting the blood flowing to it. Toji watches with dark eyes as you slowly in yourself off of the 9-inch toy that’s coated in your slick arousal. The sight of the coral-colored silicone covered in your wetness has his throat so dry it hurts.

“My counteroffer is that we skip the first date, and you help me with my current problem. You are a firefighter. It’s your job to help people.”

“Oooh, are you asking me to fuck you right now?”

“Maybe~ if I were to ask you to do just that, what would you say?” When you turn your head to look at him, your face is quickly snatched in his hands. His hand grips your chin tightly towards his mouth.

“I would say it’s about fucking time.”

His lips slam against yours in a symphony of desperation and need. He quickly shifts behind you, pushing you towards the center of the bed and away from the cavern you had found yourself trapped in moments before. The entire time he moves you, his lips never leave yours. It’s a messy open-mouth kiss, with tongue and groping hands as he releases his grip on your face, panting heavily as a string of saliva connects your lips.

“Do you know how hard it’s been trying to control myself? I try so hard to be a good, friendly neighbor. One that doesn’t come off as a creep.” he positions himself behind you down his gray sweatpants, spraying his thick fat cock. “Let me tell you, it’s been fucking hard; you are so goddamn fucking beautiful. Smart, funny, a great cook.”

You grip the sheets underneath you as he continues his confession. He told you how much he admired your strength and beauty. The pure admiration and raw need that’s in his voice makes your pussy clench, your arousal seeping out of your twitching hole. God, you knew you liked him, but knowing he was so damn bad for you, made you want him even more.

“I need you to fuck me.” There’s no doubt in your words that's precisely what you wanted. The word ‘want’ isn’t even included in your sentence! You didn't like this, and you needed it on a physical level.

“Yeah~? Need me to fuck that tight slutty hole?” His hands connect with your ass again, so smacking it hard, leaving a faint hand print in its wake. “Is that what you need, baby~?”

“Yes!” you shake your ass in front of him, dropping down low, revealing your wet hole to him as if trying to convince him to hurry the fuck up.

“Mhmm, that's a good little slut; tell me exactly what she wants; no, wait, I’m sorry, what she needs.” he grabs his thick cock in one hand. Toji held his cock, smacking it over your pussy. “And she claims that she needs my cock.”

You rock your hips back, fingers digging into the sheets as your chest heaves in anticipation of being filled to the brim by human flesh and not cold silicon. “Yes, please.” Toji tsks behind you giving your pussy, another sharp slap with his cock, the tip snagging at your entrance before he rubs it over your clit.

“Nah, I think you could do better than that. Try again to tell me what it is that you want.”

“I need you!” you cry out loud this time, shutting your eyes and anticipation of him thrusting inside of you, just feeling the head of his cock snag over your clit for the second time. “Please, Toji! Please, please, please.”

Grabbing the base of his thick, heavy cock, he gently presses it over your entrance over your slick hole. “Please, what baby girl~? Use your words, big like pretty little slut you are.” this was an absolute tort. Having your kit in your pussy, teased with nothing but finger-like touches, have you jerking and writhing against the bed.

“Please fuck me, Toji!” you screamed, not having to worry about your next-door neighbor complaining about the noise.

“That's a good girl.” Toji slapped your ass with a snarl, gripping the skin and spreading your cheeks. “I always knew you were a good girl. Always so sweet and friendly, the perfect innocent neighbor next door. but who would’ve thought that you would be fucking a toy against your headboard.” He spits his words before suddenly burying his cock fully into you.

You screamed out loud as his cocked stretched you like you'd never been stretched red d before, sending your eyes rolling back. "Nnngh~! Mmph~ Toji!"

“Fuck-Ngh.” Toji moaned, feeling your walls convulse around him. "You feel so good, baby. Fuck—baby, baby! Shit—being inside of you was so worth the wait!”

“Oooh fuck~!” Toji’s hands press into the middle of your back, pushing your shoulders down further into the mattress, allowing your back to be pushed down, beautifully showing the curves of your body for him. “Just like that, Toji, fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“Oh, I’m not stopping until you’re crying. Your in need a good dicking down since you weren’t able to finish, I’m assuming.”

“Y-Yes!” You cry out, gripping the sheets tighter as you rock your hips back into his. “Yes, I want to cum so bad~!”

“Oh, I know you do, baby,” Toji smirked as he pushed you by your shoulders down into the bed, thrusting deep and hard.

His cock continues to hit your g-spot and your cervix, but his warm hot tip is nothing compared to the silicone. You had been using it earlier. So your eyes roll back. "Oh fuck! ~!" At this rate, you weren't going to last very long.

“Hoooly fuck.” Toji moaned, feeling your walls flutter around him as your legs started to tremble. "Fuck-Ngh. You’re about to cum. Fuck—baby, baby! Shit--I’m going to fucking fill you up. Is that okay?” he didn’t give you much time to answer as he angled his hips, thrusting precisely against that sponge spot inside of you. The one that had you seeing stars as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You whimpered loudly, turning to desperately kiss Toji as you squirted all over cock. "Ah~! Nnngh!!" your eyes rolled back as your body convulsed with the waves of your orgasm.

"Fuck! Fuckfuck—M’ cumming, I—Ahhh ahah—nngh!" Toji doubled over, his forehead pressing into your back as he kept cumming, releasing the months of pent-up desire into you.

He collapsed on top of you quickly, putting his arms out on either side of your smaller frame, bracing his weight upon them in an attempt not to crush you. You painted happily, grinning as you turned your head to stare up at the flushed, sweat-coated man who had fucked you thoroughly. He smirked, his scar stretching as his lips curled up.

His smirk, however, is short-lived as you push back against him, causing him to slip out of you as his back lands against your mattress. As he blankly waters, it allows you to straddle his hips, dribble, drop combined cum, and rub all over his dick as you so lewdly rub your pussy up and down on him. “I hope you have more where that came from because I’m far from being done with you, sir.”

“Hey,” he smirked, putting both his hands behind his head as he watched your position, his cock at your entrance. “Im a firefighter have pretty good fucking stamina. Let’s see what you got.” Little did he know you were a fire that could not so easily be put out. Not that he was complaining.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[solbaby7]

Stuck Like Glue

rhysand x clingy!reader

warnings: light bullying, maybe some swearing

summary: You’re a little clingy and your High Lord never seems to mind but—maybe his friends do

clearing out my drafts, so don’t judge if it’s a lil short

—

It seemed harmless enough, hanging off of Rhysand’s shoulder or scuffling your way into his lap when the festivities had gotten entirely too much for you to endure on your own. His hand curls easily around your waist, fingers tapping at your thighs when you start pressing kisses down his neck in the middle of a conversation with one of the other High Lords.

Boredom quickly grew, excusing yourself with a kiss on Rhysand’s chest to go grab a drink. There’s more options to choose from than you can comprehend, drinks filled with hand tied tea bags or fresh fruit. You settle on something gentle, like tea with honey and you have full intentions to rush back to your High Lord, a smile in place and a few pastries in tow but the group he was speaking to before has huddled in closer, voices more hushed. “—just saying, Rhys. I don’t have a clue how you deal with her hanging off of you all the time.”

That was Cassian—cadence unmistakable even with all the overlapping voices in the crowd. Your smile falters, steps slowing as more of them pitch in, clapping sympathetic hands to Rhys’ shoulder and mumbling out different variations of how bad they felt for him. You say nothing, lemon tart shaking in your grasp and tears swell in your waterline as you wait for Rhysand to speak up—to tell them at they were stupid and wrong and had not the slightest fucking clue they were talking about.

But that never happens.

“She’s just a little attached—it’s cute.”

Attached.

You swallow the lump in your throat and enter again, a faux smile plastered in when you make a point to sit on the couch and not Rhysand’s lap. You refrain from reaching out to play with his fingers or trace the inky lines of his tattoos. There’s no spare kisses, no sweet words whispered for just the High Lord to hear, no fingers sneaking up to play in his hair or manicured nails scratching gentle patterns at the nape of his neck.

Just your hands in your lap, clutching that now half-cold cup of tea from before. “Baby, come sit over here.” Rhysand softly whispers, a hand already wrapping around your back to help move you but you stop him, head shaking in defiance as you slide just a little further away from him.

“That’s okay, there’s people around.”

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

He says it playfully but the smile you give back doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m okay, Rhys. Thank you.”

His brows furrow, confusion evident but he doesn’t fight you on it.

He does, however, notice the way you pull your hand away whenever he reached for yours and halfway through a conversation with some male Rhysand had apparently known since he was younger; he tries to kiss you. Just a quick peck but you only offer your cheek instead. His frown deepens, eyes barely tearing away from you to finish what they were talking about because your distance is unmistakable.

There’s no fingers toying with the crisp lines of his dress pants. No hair tickling at the side of his neck or legs wrapped around his waist and the absence makes his jaw clench.

Rhysand’s friends leave for only a second, making promises to return with more drinks and that they hoped the Lord of Darkness could still keep up and he chuckles back some half-assed comment before fully turning to face you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m having a great time.”

“You haven’t kissed me in hours.” It comes out like that’s the only fact he needed to make his point.

And to appease him now that no one was around, you lean forward and press a kiss to his mouth. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to be too much with your friends around.”

His brows raise again; that’s the second time now you’d said something along those lines. “Don’t worry about them—they’re just jealous anyway.”

You scoff like it’s an insult, quick to set the teacup down before you did something stupid like throw it. “Yeah, whatever.”

Rhysand forced you to meet his eye, a finger curled under your chin and you could feel the caress of his talons prodding at your mental barriers. “Show me what’s wrong.”

Your mouth opens to confess but out the corner of your eye you can see the guys returning, each holding their own bottle of whatever expensive liquor was left on display by the refreshment stands and your mouth shuts just as quickly. “There’s nothing wrong."

He doesn’t accept it, politely pulling you away from prying eyes. “Tell me, right now.”

A huffy sigh emits, shoulders slumping and tears well in your eyes. “I just want to have a good night without anyone thinking I’m too attached to you.”

His shoulders square out at the venom laced in the word and the previous conversation had between friends seemed to backfire. “Oh,” Guilty fingers trace warm cheeks, grazing over a wobbly chin and Rhys is crooning out apologies; promises that it wasn’t true—that he’d said whatever to get them off his back. “I didn’t mean it. I love when you’re all over me,” The truth in the words is undeniable and while you’d like to be mad, you really had missed the feel of him; his warmth and the grabby hands that always pulled you in closer.

“But, Cass said—“

“Cass is drunk and not getting any.” Rhys pulls you in closer, fingers raking through your hair while the other hand grips your hips just enough to push them flush with his own. The music thuds loudly, vibrating the floors and rattling the very blood in your body but everyone else seems to be having so much fun—laughing loudly and leaning into the other without the worry of being too much, too overbearing, too clingy or needy.

“But—“

“Don’t listen to him.” Pure affection sweetens his tone, love twinkling into amethyst irises when taking in every dip and curve of your features. “You’re perfect, just as you are.”