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skzdarlings · 5 months ago

Text

harmony ; 3racha x reader ; one-shot

masterlist.

porn without plot. you want to have some fun and you know exactly which boyfriend can help get it started.

pairing: 3racha/reader content info: sub!reader, dom!changbin, dom!chan, switch!jisung, polyamorous mmfm foursome (so they’re all involved with each other and interact with each other), very enthusiastic consent with an implied red/yellow/green light system (yellow is employed once). some rough play (esp with changbin), cnc game that reader initiates, face-slapping, choking, dirty talk, pussy eating, double penetration, blow job, all three holes at once, multiple orgasms, jisung having a monster dick for no reason, aftercare. (technically no mention of birth control but it’s a long established relationship and you can safely assume it’s taken care of.)

word count: 5255 words.

enjoy <3

When you want to play – really play – you know where to go.

Jisung can be an overthinker and Chan is always protective, so they hesitate before getting too rough with you. Changbin, however, never holds back. You know how to touch him, how to smile that particularly provocative smile, how to bat your eyelashes and invite him to play.

You are thinking about it when he returns from his work-out, muscles straining in his black tank shirt, body damp with sweat, and looking like pure, unadulterated sex. Chan and Jisung are huddled around a laptop in the living room, their entrepreneurial endeavours a seemingly endless chore, and they are so engrossed in their work they don’t see you leave.

You sneak off to your room to change, ditching your shorts and underclothes, slipping into one of Changbin’s old t-shirts and absolutely nothing else.

You intend to hunt him down after his shower, but it’s Changbin who comes to you. He ambles casually into your bedroom without knocking, comfortable and relaxed and at home. You have your own rooms for personal space but you all come and go as you please.

Your room is dimly lit with strings of fairy lights, the bed crowded with pillows and teddy bears, not to mention a big strong boyfriend who makes himself at home. Changbin is dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, his hair blow-dried soft and fluffy, but body as bulky and powerful as ever.

“Look at this,” he says, holding out his phone. A sweater you were eyeing has gone on sale so he sits on your bed and buys it for you without hesitation. He giggles to himself with all that self-satisfied delight, teasing that he is the best boyfriend and your number one favourite.

He knows the truest harmony lies among the four of you, together, always, but he likes to tease.

You like to tease back.

“Be careful, you big bully,” you say, because he plops himself down at the head of the bed, knocking a teddy bear over. You pick it up and aggressively shove it back into place.

He quirks an eyebrow, his giggling joviality replaced with a studious expression. He seems to finally notice what you are wearing, blinking his gaze up and down your body as you rearrange the pillows behind him.

You bat your eyelashes, all playful innocence.

“Don’t be so serious,” he says. He deliberately knocks a teddy onto the floor.

You playfully gasp, bending over with a flourish and flashing him.

“Ah,” he says, putting his phone on your bedside table. “It’s like that?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, blinking.

“Hm,” he says, giving you another quick once-over. “Okay.”

Changbin hauls you over his shoulder and wrestles you onto the bed. He puts you on your back, upside down so your head is near the foot. He climbs right on top of you, not an inch of muscle budging even when you thud your fists against his firm chest.

“Binnie,” you say, wriggling underneath him, the t-shirt riding up your thighs. “You’re crushing me, you big mean brute.”

“Brute,” he says, laughing. He grabs your hips and pins you to the mattress. “Tsk. You like it like that.”

“No, I – ah!”

Changbin never hesitates. He knows you will tell him if you don’t like something. It’s a game of trust, full of an all encompassing love that boasts such tender affection beneath each action. Being with Changbin is like being nestled in blankets by a warm fire on a snowy winter’s day. You are sheltered in the storm, feeling that protection even more keenly because of the dangerous cold.

Between you, there is nothing but heat.

He gathers the hem of the t-shirt and shoves it up, past the skin of your tummy, exposing your thighs and all the bare softness between them. Oh, yes, all softness against his hard body, the thickness of his biceps as he holds you down, his big thighs shoved between your open legs, broad shoulders relentless and ungiving even where you smack him repeatedly.

“Binnie, be careful,” you say, trying to close your legs around his hips.

You gasp when he puts a hand up your shirt, squeezing your breast in the cup of his palm. His mean fingers immediately find the stiffening peak, thumb tormenting you while you whine.

You buck as if you want to throw him off, but he is right where you want him and he knows it. He knows you, your body like a well-loved instrument, his strong hands drawing every musical gasp and sigh out of you.

“Where’s your panties, hm?” he asks. Undeterred by your continuous bucking and writhing, he slides his hands down to your naked hips. He was slouched half-on top of you but he gets up on his knees now. He pushes your thighs apart, forcing his hips between them.

“Shameful,” he says. He tries to grab your flailing hands to no avail. You smack his chest and shoulders, dodging the reach of his fingers.

He smacks your face, a tap hard enough to register the game has really begun, but not so hard to sting for long. You still gasp, your hands pausing. It gives him time to work a hand between your open thighs.

“Ahh—!”

“Yah, look at you,” he says, rubbing his fingers through your wet pussy without finesse or gentleness. You twitch every time his knuckle rides over your clit. “Bad girl,” he says. “Who are you so wet for?”

He gives you no time to answer, scooting back to drag you to the middle of the bed. You are still upside down, your pillows and teddies piled behind him, all the dreaminess of your girly lace bedroom in contrast to his stark masculinity. It makes your whole body thrum with arousal, hot from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. You feel him even where he is not touching you.

Where he is touching you, you burn, heart erratic with anticipation as he squeezes your thighs, as he shoves your hands out of his way, as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze.

“Ah – Binnie—!” You get louder. Your bedroom door is open. Chan and Jisung might be focussed on their work, but not for long, not if you keep this up. Still, to speed things along, you scream, “Chan! Channie! Ch—hmmph!”

Changbin shoves a pillow in your face, holding it there, smothering you to soften your shrieks. His other hand is on your thigh – no, slipping higher, a surface touch through all that wet desire. Then his blunt fingers are inside you. You moan into the pillow, clenching around the thrust of his fingers. You get dizzy quickly, partially because of the pillow, partially his skilled hand.

He abruptly lifts the pillow. The oxygen goes straight to your head, as intoxicating as a kiss. You realize you are close to coming already, hiccupping with all that sudden breath as he fucks his fingers into you.

Changbin is relentless. You smack his chest but he ignores it, his strong arm keeping a steady momentum. An orgasm builds and builds, your fingers hooking into his t-shirt for some leverage. He puts a hand on your belly and holds you down. He feels so strong and heavy, utterly unmovable, and it makes falling apart so much easier.

“Didn’t you have something to say to Chan?” he says.

You gasp and turn your head. Sure enough, Chan is standing there, watching you. Changbin does it on purpose, knowing when you are close, so you look at Chan just as the orgasm crests.

Chan is standing beside the bed, dressed in his basketball shorts and a sleeveless black shirt, a baseball cap over his curly dark hair. He must have entered the room while the pillow was on your face, and now he is standing there, watching Changbin hold you down and fuck you with his hand.

“Channie, please—” you say, then you come all over Changbin’s fingers. You cry out because he keeps tormenting you, thumb shaking back-and-forth across your throbbing clit. “Ah, Binnie—Channie, please!”

Chan gives Changbin a look, his eyebrow quirked, then he just leans towards the open door and whistles. It’s a sharp, high whistle, a call to attention.

“Han,” he says, not even very loud. Chan never needs to shove or force or yell. When Chan says come, you come.

You always obey Chan. You throw your head back, gasping as you come a second time. It is so soon after the first orgasm that it feels like one long, rolling wave. It continues to shudder through you, even after Changbin slips his hand out.

The shirt is still shoved up your tummy, soft skin and wet pussy on display. Chan does not look away, reaching blindly behind himself for your desk chair. He yanks it closer to the bed and plops down, taking off his cap and tossing it on the floor. He is bare-faced, expression so open and honest, but a hunger in his eyes that darkens his whole face.

Changbin just looks giddy. You look at him as he giggles, that funny little chortle leaving that buff body. Then you realize he is rolling his sweatpants down.

“Channie!” you yelp, shrieking and twisting while Changbin licks his palm and strokes his cock, his other hand effortlessly holding you down.

Chan slouches in the chair. He props an elbow on the arm-rest and puts his chin in his palm. His other hand slips under the waistband of his shorts.

“Careful, baby,” Chan says, seconds before Changbin smacks you again. It is within your limit, but still enough to turn your head on impact.

Like before, it breaks your concentration, and Changbin takes the opportunity to grab your hips, line up, and shove his cock inside you. Chan and Jisung always give you a minute to adjust, the size of a hard cock definitely different from fingers, but Changbin never waits. Even while you wince and complain, he fucks you through it, gripping your hips hard and ignoring your hands pushing against his chest.

“Too much, Binnie,” you say, even though the sting is quickly passing. You’re so wet and it makes it easy for him to fuck you. It even sounds messy, every thrust opening you up, getting you even wetter, the bed creaking as he pulls you onto his cock over and over.

You look over at Chan who is still watching, the shape of his hand and his dick so clear through the material of his shorts as he fists his cock slowly.

You hiccup as Changbin switches from long, deep strokes to short, pounding ones.

At which point Jisung finally walks in, yapping about work, saying, “I was thinking we could postpone the meeting to Monday and—oh, hi, WHAAAT, we’re having sex in here? All right, man, okay, that’s cool, all right, what’s up.”

Oh, your sweet Jisung. He is also in house clothes, black shorts and a sleeveless white shirt, dark hair feathering through his fingers as he runs his hand through it. He walks further into the room, kicking the door closed behind himself for no reason. His attention is firmly fixed on you, holding your gaze while Changbin fucks you. The unmoving intensity of those big brown eyes leaves you tingling, a swoop in your belly that feels as thorough as a good fuck. It crashes into the feeling of Changbin inside you, makes your whole body get tight so Changbin groans and curses.

“Oh,” is all you can say. You cover your face with both hands, gasping when Changbin goes back to longer, deeper thrusts.

“Heyyy, baby, why are you hiding?” Jisung says in his sweetest voice.

You hear him approaching, even above the sound of you getting fucked, above Changbin’s little grunts, above Chan cursing. You feel the dip of the mattress when Jisung climbs up on the bed, sitting near your head. Then his hands are on your wrists, prying them away from your face. You try to wrestle them back but he holds them calmly, his own arms boasting a subtle musculature as he pins your hands to the mattress to stop you from moving.

“Yes,” Changbin says. “Like that. Come on.”

“Jisungie,” you whine, looking down at where Changbin is driving into you, feeling each thrust deeper than your pussy, all the way up to your throat. You tip your head back, looking at Jisung upside down.

He leans down, his hair swooping forward, tickling your face as he kisses your forehead and temple.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says. Despite his soft voice, he does not lighten his grip, your hands still locked in place. “Does it hurt?” he asks, wide-eyed.

“Mmm,” you say, nodding, even while shuddering with so much pleasure that a tear spills down your cheek.

“Aww,” he says, licking that tear track, making every nerve spasm. “You’re so cute, baby.”

“She gets tighter when you choke her,” Chan says.

“Awww,” Jisung says. He releases one hand to reach for you. He wraps his fingers delicately around your throat, not even squeezing at first, just a caress as his hand curls around you.

Your adrenaline naturally peaks, body clenching, just like Chan said. Changbin groans his satisfaction and Jisung tightens his grip, keeping you pinned by the throat while Changbin goes still, coming inside you.

“Fuck,” Chan says.

Jisung releases your throat and you suck in a shaky breath. It is interrupted when Jisung swoops in, kissing your lips upside down. You squirm under the confusing messiness of his open mouth at this angle.

He comes up with a breath, one as shaky as your own, ravished from a kiss. He runs his hand through his hair and nods to Changbin, saying, “Turn her around.”

Two pairs of hands find you, manhandling you so easily between them. You yelp, startled by the movement, as they lift you up and turn you around so your head is in Changbin’s lap and Jisung is now the one between your legs.

Changbin hoists you into his arms, holds you in the cradle of his bicep as Jisung lays down between your open legs.

This is one area that Jisung never hesitates to indulge, his open mouth descending on your pussy with ravenous excitement.

You are so, so sensitive down there, almost numb beneath the first few searching swipes.

He presses his whole mouth there, moaning as he sucks on your clit then licks up and down, back and forth, around and around. His tongue rubs where Changbin just came, circling your sensitive hole, pressing there then licking back up to your already throbbing clit.

“Can’t come again,” you say, not entirely sure if it comes out coherent because your eyes are closed and your brain feels fuzzy.

He answers with a hum. He does not seem to be eating you out with the intention of making you come, but purely for his own pleasure as he sucks and licks and tastes. Despite that – and despite your words – you feel a tightening in your belly, a dull throb that feels too feels too deep to reach.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Changbin says when you start to writhe, his big arm wrapped around your neck, holding you tight to his beating heart.

The thud of that heart, the relentless flick of Jisung’s tongue, and Chan’s approving nod makes your thighs press around Jisung’s head.

“Oh—” is your last word before you come again, bucking hard against Jisung’s face. You gasp and cling to Changbin’s arm.

Jisung keeps licking at you, not relenting until your gasping whine is more of a scream. Then he kisses your thighs and hips before pushing himself up onto his knees.

He and Changbin wordlessly work together, sitting you upright to remove your only article of clothing. Both pairs of hands find you again, touching and groping and stimulating everywhere.

You shudder under all the sensation, eyes closing, rocking against nothing. You are desperate to close your legs to relieve the tension, but Jisung is kneeling between them. Fortunately, he knows you well, his hand sliding down there, fingers finding you, curling into you.

“You’re soo wet, baby, it’s embarrassing,” he says. “You need it that bad?”

He is still using his sweetest voice, like he doesn’t know he is about to utterly wreck your shit. Because Jisung always does without very much effort, simply by effect of having the biggest dick you have ever taken. It is part of the reason you usually can’t start with him, or why he takes his time when you do, because it is an aching endeavour whenever he tries to fit all that inside you.

Even the bulge in his shorts is obscene, the material rubbing against your thighs. He brings your hand to that bulge and groans when you squeeze it, saying, “That’s it, that’s it—”

He leans over you. It sounds like he and Changbin might be kissing above your head, sloppily at that. Jisung is probably shoving his tongue into Changbin’s mouth, the same tongue that was just inside you as it licked up the mess that Changbin made.

They press you between their bodies in an envelope of desire, utterly dominating your senses. Changbin smells like his shampoo, a deep scent like mahogany, while Jisung tends to douse himself in cologne, faded now at the end of the day but still a rich, expensive smell. Beneath all that is that simple sweat, bodies getting worked up, raw sex overwhelming all those other scents.

You breathe them in, whimpering because you are pressed so tightly between them. You can feel Jisung twitching in your hand and Changbin beginning to stiffen again at your backside.

There is a wet pop and a shared gasp when they stop kissing. Jisung grabs your face and pulls you up, his mouth hot when it claims yours, that stupidly talented mouth making you crazy.

“Hold her,” Jisung says, speaking against your lips while guiding Changbin’s hands. Jisung grabs your thighs and pushes them up, not quite folding you in half but almost there. He knows you need to be open to take him. Even then, you are already clenching, fluttering around nothing in anticipation.

Changbin holds your thighs back, hands pressed under the curve of your knee. Jisung hastily shoves his shorts down his thighs, leaving them gathered at the knee. He touches you and uses your desire to wet his dick, frantically jerking it as if it is not already intimidatingly hard and ready.

“Jisungie,” you say, already whining, wiping an embarrassing spot of drool as it spills over your bottom lip. Your body is so eager that it thunders out of control, clenching around nothing, and you can’t seem to stop it.

Jisung is so mean, just using his fingertip for a second, circling your fluttering hole. You try kicking him but your ankle manages little more than a flick, your legs trapped in Changbin’s hold.

“Sorry,” Jisung says, giggling and obviously unapologetic. He flicks your pouting bottom lip before finally putting the tip of his dick at your entrance.

The first little bit is always fine. It feels good to be full, your body needing him, pulling him in. He rocks back and forth a little, pushing an inch then another, and that’s when your body realizes how much there is, clenching and stretching and burning as he pushes in.

He goes slow, his whining mouth against your throat. But then Chan sits on the edge of the bed and touches his back. He bottoms out quickly and you squeak, eyes closed and breath coming fast.

You hear Chan say, “Take it off.” Confused, you blink your eyes open. Chan is talking to Jisung, tugging his shirt up his back.

Jisung groans but complies, tugging it over his head with one hand. The few seconds give you a precious moment to adjust, barely enough before he comes back and starts to fuck you with short, rolling thrusts. You think Chan is getting Jisung’s shorts out of the way given the jerky way Jisung moves on top of you, but then you are skin to skin with no obstruction.

“Mmph, yellow – legs,” you say, breaking only briefly to prevent a cramp in your thighs. Changbin is quick to smooth you out, helping reposition you more comfortably.

You sprawl flat on your back as Changbin moves away, wrapping your legs around Jisung’s waist without any hindrance. He holds himself above you, alternatively muttering expletives and cooing sweet nothings at you.

Changbin sits on one side, Chan the other, both fully clothed despite the obvious strain below their waistbands. It reminds you a little of the time Changbin topped Jisung while Chan fucked you, the pair of you kissing and touching between them the entire time.

Today is a little different. You are at the centre of it all, Jisung inside you, Chan’s hand on your chest and Changbin’s fingers circling your mouth. You take those fingers when prompted, sucking dutifully, batting your eyelashes up at him while he softly finger-fucks your mouth.

Chan’s fingers join him, touching your lip. You open your mouth wider and drool messily around the intrusion.

“Fuck,” Chan says. He rips his hand back in sudden needy haste. “Turn over,” he demands, smacking Jisung on the ass.

It makes Jisung yelp but he complies. With some help from Changbin, you roll over until Jisung is on his back and you are on top of him. Changbin kneels upright too, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, tongue penetrating your mouth as Jisung holds your hips and thrusts up into you.

Chan grabs the back of your neck, holding you in place while Changbin kisses you. Chan’s other hand runs down your front, tweaking a nipple and making you mewl into Changbin’s mouth. You are more panting than kissing by the time Chan’s fingers reach your pussy.

Jisung slows down just a little, out of breath and whimpering as you clench around him. This angle makes him feel stupidly deep, your eyes rolling back. He makes a few small, jerky movements, not even a deep thrust, and it still feels like he his hitting your heart.

Chan joins the kiss with Changbin. You are not even sure who is kissing you, just that it is one or the other, back and forth until you are dizzy. You know it is Chan’s fingers between your legs, the unmistakable pattern of his deft, familiar stroke making you spiral towards another orgasm.

“Oh, god, she’s – she’s—” Jisung says, squeezing your hips, going still for a minute to stop himself from coming when you do. He is breathing as hard as you.

You look down at Jisung, holding eye contact while you come hard on Chan’s fingers. Chan and Changbin are each sucking a bruise into either side of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say in a watery voice, thighs shaking, hands on Jisung’s abdomen as you lean forward.

“That’s it,” Chan says, kissing your throat sweetly while Changbin bites you meanly. Both of them swipe their tongue across the mark they leave behind. “Jisung,” Chan says, a demand without further explanation.

“Fuck, I know,” Jisung says, slowly moving his hips again.

It is so quick off your orgasm, it makes aftershocks move through your whole body. You are a livewire, making every ridiculous sound possible as Jisung fucks you, Changbin kisses you, and Chan gets up behind you.

Chan runs his hands down your sides, gently bending you forward until you are chest to chest with Jisung.

“Yup, just like that,” Chan says, rubbing the base of your spine then lower. His hands cup the curve of your ass, squeezing, tilting your hips just so. It gives him a good view of Jisung’s cock moving in and out of you, no doubt obscenely wet and messy, as well as exposing the smaller hole in your ass as he spreads you open.

“Changbin,” Chan says, still with that same confident assurance he will be obeyed no matter what, “Pass me the lube. Bedside drawer.”

As if you were not already sensitive enough, just hearing those words makes everything clench, which makes Jisung fuck you harder, which makes some place inside you that is so unbelievably soft and tender start to ache.

“Ah, that sound,” Changbin says when your moans turn to high-pitched whimpers. He pats the back of your head and reaches for the bedside table.

After a bit of rustling, he tosses the lube at Chan who catches it easily.

“One second,” Changbin says while Chan uncaps it. “She’s gonna come again. Big one, isn’t it, yes?”

The fact he knows before you do is a testament to how closely he watches you, how well he knows you. He is completely right, of course, as Jisung repeatedly pounds into some squishy, vulnerable part of you, so deep and so tender. You are not sure your clit would even respond if someone tried to touch it, but they don’t need to. It is enough that Jisung is hitting that place again and again.

You come with a scream, literally gushing around Jisung as you come. It takes everything in his willpower not to come, nonsensically begging Changbin to help so he doesn’t finish. Changbin just grabs him by the throat, much harder than Jisung grabbed you, making Jisung choke out a strangled gasp immediately. It works, though, as Jisung goes still but stays hard, letting you rock desperately on top of him as your orgasm seems to last ages.

When it finishes, you are completely boneless. You slump onto Jisung who takes a breath when Changbin lets go.

“All right,” Changbin says, smacking your ass. You hear him kiss Chan quickly. “Your turn.”

It is a good thing you feel so willowy; it makes it easy for Chan to open you up on his slick fingers. The few times you have done this, it always took forever, which was fun in its own way, but today it is so easy. He slides a finger right in, then another, hardly any obstruction as your body surrenders so completely to your boyfriends.

“You gonna take it okay, baby?” Jisung asks, his hands on your sides, holding you steady.

You look up at him, nodding, and open your mouth with a whine. He understands, lifting his head, meeting you in a messy, lazy kiss while he rocks slowly inside you. The kiss only breaks when Chan replaces his fingers with his cock, reigniting every spark in your over sensitized body.

“Ugh, god,” Jisung says, barely above a breath as he pants against your mouth. “He’s inside you, baby?”

You don’t answer because he can probably feel it when Chan is fully inside you. It takes a second for them to calibrate, find a rhythm that works. You are not sure if you are more impressed with yourself for taking it so easily this time, or impressed that Jisung has lasted this long and is still coherent enough to keep a steady rhythm.

“Changbin,” you say, his name a moan on your lips. You need to feel him too, his hand on your back not nearly enough.

“Go,” Chan says, groaning, your hips in his hands as he fucks you. “Oh, baby, you’re so good,” he says. “Isn’t our girl so good for us?”

Changbin and Jisung basically just grunt in reply, affirmative but irrevocably distracted.

Changbin kneels near your head, rubbing the back of your neck and gently guiding you to turn your face. Jisung swears when you open your mouth, a bit of spit drooling past his own lips as he watches you take Changbin’s cock past your lips. You mostly just lay there with your mouth open, letting him fuck it rather than really blowing him, but there are no complaints.

Chan squeezes your ass, a gentle knead that just makes you feel more open, stretched to your absolute limits, so full that you do not know how you will ever be happy without them all inside you.

It reinvigorates you. You find strength in your arm and use it to touch Changbin, fist circling where your mouth does not reach. You get him off first but Chan follows quickly, muttering things like you, tight, perfect, baby, baby, baby.

“Oh god,” Jisung says, somehow still holding out. When Chan slips out, it gives Jisung slightly more leverage. He pushes himself upright, letting you slump in his arms and cling to him while he fucks up into you with quick, desperate little uh-uh-uhs.

Finally, he comes, your name melting into a moan as he buries his face in your neck, mouth open where Changbin left his bitemark.

They surround you after that and you hum happily, letting them pass you from one pair of arms to the next. Jisung flops back, running his hands through his hair and catching his breath. Changbin is there with a cloth of some kind – you think it might be Jisung’s shirt, but Jisung is way past caring – and he gives you a quick and gentle wipe-down while kissing your sleepy brow.

“I should buy you sweaters more often,” Changbin says, giggling.

It makes you snort with laughter, blinking up at him with a grin. “Was gonna fuck you anyway, dummy,” you say.

“In that case, I’ll buy you another one right now.”

You giggle when he rubs his nose against yours in a cute little nose-kiss, eyes crinkling with an affectionate smile.

“Mm, c’mere, sleepy,” Chan says, rightfully as you are still mostly slumped in his arms. You manage to string an arm around his neck as he scoops you off the bed and holds you against his chest.

You are still a little dazed from so much sensation. You let your boys take care of you. After some quick inspection and care, you are plunked in a bath with Jisung to clean and decompress while the other two go strip and re-make the bed.

Jisung kisses your face while helping you wash, his careful hands and the hot water soothing every achy limb.

“Totally worth it,” you say, head under his chin, eyes closed and sighing contently.

Changbin comes to help you out. By then, you are bright-eyed, sore but in a way that makes you alive. You feel clean and fresh and loved, bundled up in a robe and then carried off in Changbin’s arms to the living room where food, a comfy couch, and Chan is waiting.

Jisung joins a moment later. The laptop is long since closed and utterly forgotten, the four of you snuggling up in a big blanket. Chan has an arm slung across the back of the couch, your head on his chest, Changbin’s arm around your middle, and Jisung half-asleep where heis slumped against Changbin.

“Round two?” Jisung asks then promptly yawns, making you laugh as Changbin playfully smacks him and Chan just sighs an amused sigh.

Taking the cue from Jisung’s yawn, you close your eyes and snuggle down.

“Love you,” you say, drifting off to each of them saying it back. You know one of them will carry you to bed eventually, so you let yourself drift into sleep, safe and warm, happiest when you are all together, just like this, the four of you always in perfect harmony.

#3racha x reader #3racha smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x you #skz x you #bang chan x you #seo changbin x you #han jisung x you

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death---dealer · 5 months ago

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Bitter Sweet. ( Five x Reader Oneshot. )

i have no explanation other than my babies are still alive and that season 4 never happened SEASON 4 NEVER HAPPENED---- Give me snarky, asshole, pragmatic five back before i die. Reblogs/likes/comments all appreciated, thank u.

Title: Bitter Sweet. Fandom: The Umbrella Academy. Pairing: Heavily Implied ! Five x Reader. Rating: T. ( Language, lol. ) Words: 1.2K+ Summary: ( Taking place in an AU after season 4, let me live in my fantasy that's what fanfics are FOR ). You knew how specific Five was about his coffee. You knew he would speak his mind regarding and it was too much fun to let go of.

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Four cubes.

No, no… Five felt his mouth part in astonishment, crystal clear green eyes peering in languid judgment as your plucked another sugar cube from a pristine porcelain bowl and plopped it right into the white coffee cup that was placed in front of you. It sploshed happily, absorbing the coffee and sweetening the deal for you to enjoy, but that was never the point in the grand scheme. You were ardently aware of how irritating it was, one cube after another. The quantity itself was deliberate and you knew… How you were able to feel his stare hell-bending holes into your face. He was unable to see the liquid despite trying with a narrow gaze but he was willing to bargain much of what he owned that it was pale in color, not even teetering towards tan but more towards plain white.

A grimace was noticed by Klaus who bargained a chuckle as he looked towards you, seated beside him with raised eyebrows of acute amusement, “You’re desecrating whatever coffee you had, I think Five is going to lunge across the table and take you by the neck---” “Five can shove it.” The innocence that rode against your face was evident as the Hargreeves man across from you scoffed under his breath at the juxtaposed expression coupled with the aggressive nature of your words. “It’s my cup, not his. We can’t all drink it b---”

“Black like my soul, right?” Five rolled his eyes, shoulders drawing themselves in some minor defense and you were able to see the tightness of which he held himself from the tailored nature of his suit. Five was lanky and skinny, but that didn't seek to say that he was without defined muscles against his sweeping collarbones and it was evident in certain motions that left you reeling back from the hardened words that he responded with.

“Get some original insults, (Name). You’re becoming way too predictable. Boring even---” His voice was incredulous, sticking towards monotonous but still held irate interest in speaking to you, only detectable around the edges and it sang against your ears.

Flirtatious only to you, aggressive and leaned with hatred to others. A game of cat and mouse, though at times, you were unsure of which one you were playing. “I was going to say bitter just like your personality, but you know me. Predictable.” Klaus held a defensive hand up, grasping at his own cup and pretending he was beckoned elsewhere to avoid the confrontation that was inevitable coming in the way that Five cleared his throat, a hand raising and tightening the bundle of fabric where his tie rested against his throat.

He straightened it, you noticed with acute mirth, but there was no need to. It was already perfectly placed, part of the morning ritual you imagined he held close to his chest after spending so long cultivating it. Five was… A creature of habit, to many extents. Needless to say, it was one of those simple actions that you enjoyed seeing none-the-less, fingers twitching in a finite need to deshevel the pin-black tie to further push the boundary of where you and Five so often tightroped. No solace was given to either party as his knuckles rubbed against the underside of his sharpened jaw. There was hostility tangling in with notes of attractive coyness as he snapped at you, “You’re a goddamn monster, you know that? Fuck---” “I’m not the one getting angry over how someone else makes their coffee.” You bit back without reserve and another sickly smile placed towards the brunette as you finally picked up your spoon and allowed it to sink into the cup. It scraped -- Horrid, Five felt a shiver run down his spine at the vibrations he could feel against the oak table from your simple movement. Like nails against a chalkboard.

“Can you even call that coffee?” Five spliced and looked down at his own mug, half-emptied and his saliva still coating and drying where he had last taken a drink against the curve. “Did ya even put any in there? Any beans? Any espresso?” “There’s some in here.” There was a justification with a faux pout which Five remarked as being feverishly unfair. You were good at playing expressions, he was good at playing words. “I think….” You mused and lifted your cup up to your mouth and kissed the rim. Five swallowed hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing which was feasted upon by your eyes before you took a long sip. Control rested in your hands as you refused to let him look away from you.

Five sneered, your eyes taking in the delectations of seeing his sharpened canines. “You’re going to lose all your teeth from all the shit you put in that. Creamer and then what? Five sugar cubes? Are you a horse? Want me to feed you them straight from my hand?” There was a rustling sound as Five leaned inwards, his suit jacket pulling up with the motion that was placed as he so graciously plucked a sugar cube from the bowl that had been nearly emptied by you and offered it in the palm of his hand. “C’mon, take it. Be a good little horse.” “”Ha-ha,” You laughed sarcastically, smacking his gesture away which sent the cube flying off to be cleaned up later. “I’ll bite your fingers clean off.” “Not if you don’t have any fucking teeth! I kind of hope you do lose them. Hell, take me to the dentist when you get them pulled, I’ll bring them home and make a necklace for you.”

“You DIY things, Five?” There was another laugh from you as you took a sip of your drink, “Never pegged you to be that crafty.” There was emphasis on the word ‘pegged’, Five catching hold of the implication which garnered you that shit-eating grin that was more than infamous at this point. “Just this once.” He smirked, giving you a dimpled smile of feigned innocence to rival the one you splayed for him earlier. Sitting up in his seat, it scooted against the floor below with a loud bellow and you watched with bated astonishment as he leaned against the table to bring his upper half closer to you. Face only inches apart now, you refused to relent eye contact with him and tried to desperately shove down the connotation that you were able to clearly smell the after-shave that he favored. Pinely in scent, you wanted to grasp at his chin and feel the stubble against your fingers but that wasn’t the point here. The point was to be the cat while Five was forced to be the mouse.

“Just for you, a nice necklace and some earrings. Bracelet, maybe? A matching set. You'd look like such a doll."

“I’ll wear the set to your funeral. Clutch them instead of my pearls as I sob, telling everyone what a wonderful ray of sunshine you were to be around before you so tragically died.”

“Is that a date?”

Five huffed at you as you stood from your seat, his gawk watching the movement with hostility as you craned your body towards him and grasped the base of his tie. Enlightened with curiosity, the disgusting smile of attraction rose along his cheeks, quickly torn to shreds as you pulled the tie downwards, the knot coming undone without reserve.

“With you six feet under? You bet your damn ass it is.”

#the umbrella academy #tua #five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #five x you #five hargreeves imagines #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy imagines

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adelheidvonschicksal · 7 months ago

Text

⋆｡°✩ DARLING, DON'T BE AFRAID

Summary: Despite living with Xavier for the past few weeks, you still haven't taken the plunge to see if all this time together make you anything more than roommates especially when he disappears again in the middle of the night. Determined, you decide to question him on where his feelings lie. You just never thought a simple kiss on the cheek was the only push needed.

Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: Roommates AU, Vanilla Smut (A lot of it. Like 7k words of smut), Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Emotional Sex

Word Count: 12,000~

Note: Sequel to Do Roommates Sleep Together. This part can be read as a standalone. So not necessary to read part one but it adds more context.

AO3 Link

You make a final decisive pull of the trigger. A loud pang resonates in the air and smoke spirals off the barrel. The Wanderer disappears in a wisp of debris and dust that is quickly caught in the wind.

Xavier stands a few feet in front of you. His sword twirls with one final arc of light illuminating behind the sharpened tip before it dematerializes in his hand. You’re oblivious to the way his eyes search and find you on instinct as you run eager fingertips on the warm barrel of your pistol.

“Mission completed. We should report back.”

You raise your head to meet his gaze while your gloved fingers remain faithfully on your weapon. The adrenaline from a successful mission is still surging through you.

“I want to test out my guns some more.”

His eyes soften at your response, but the weight of his gaze is still heavy as he walks towards you and places his hand on your head.

“There will be more Wanderers tomorrow,” he murmurs. His thumb gently brushes your forehead before his hand swoops back over your hair. Though your hands were still itching for another battle, your mind was weak to the calmness of his tone, like the slow tumble of waves on the shore, as he coaxes your head back to look at him more directly. “Let’s go home.”

This time you do not protest. Even if you did, what could you possibly say?

Your aggression relaxes along with your shoulders, allowing you to give in to his request with a quick holstering of your twin guns.

You return to headquarters and give your mission report to Jenna – pausing only to poke fun when she mentions how much Xavier’s reporting time has improved since the two of you became partners – then you start on the way home with the sun kissing at your back.

Laughter fills the air on the streets. Immediately, you feel warm inside. It was only thanks to the work you do every day that citizens could enjoy this peaceful dusk without fear of monsters scrambling to destroy the city like so many years ago.

It’s rewarding to know you hold some small part in the safety of the city after almost dying in the catastrophe as a child. You breathed it in fully, letting joy fill your lungs as you savor the calm moment. The emotion is only highlighted by the fact that when you look to your side, you can see Xavier there, putting weight to the empty space left in the wake of your family’s death.

Walking home together in the past was a random occurrence, happening whenever your busy schedules after missions aligned. As freshly cemented roommates, it was almost a given you’d walk home together now. Not just to the apartment complex, but to an actual shared home.

This path you go along every day has become special in that time. It’s full of promises, the kind you could only wish for on snowy New Year's evenings as you tied red ribbons to the shrine gate and prayed for good things to happen in your life. Not a lot of those wishes came true but Xavier did.

In that way, you were a fortunate person.

It was only your guess if he felt the same. You want to ask him. Unlike when you’re fighting Wanderers, you’re not brave when it comes to Xavier - a part of you prefers to leave things between you unsaid. It’s safer that way as you can keep living in a beautiful world of your own illusions.

Therefore, you’re unable to help yourself. Pinching the sleeve of his uniform, you tug on it gently to gain his attention; Xavier looks at you with glossy glazed eyes. He’s always so sluggish after missions. His steps slow and methodical, like a robot, as he barely manages to straighten his spine and raise his head.

“Chin up, Xavier. We’re almost there.”

“I’m exhausted,” he says.

You don’t need to hear him say it to understand. You think you’ve become good at reading his body language by now. Donning a sympathetic smile, you shift your hand, aiming for a lower target, and entwine your fingers with his under the guise of leading him faster.

“My next solution is carrying you by the way.”

A smile cracks on his face, impossibly light as his gaze drifts to the hold you have on his hand. “I don’t think you could carry me.”

“You dare doubt me?” Truth be told, he was right. He was tall and muscular and much thicker under that uniform than he looked. He would probably crush you under his weight if you tried to lift him. Despite how improper it was to think, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to place his weight on top of you in another way. You tick up the corner of your lips into a surprisingly innocent smile opposite of the images in your imagination as you flash your bicep to him. “I’m very strong.”

“I think it would make more sense if I carried you.”

“I can walk.”

“I don’t see why that matters,” he says with a yawn, and you smile.

“Are you sure you won’t drop me?”

“If it’s a choice between falling asleep and dropping you then I’ll definitely stay awake. Otherwise, you might end up carrying me after all,” he says. Xavier always manages to be unfailingly charming. Given the mystery of his past and the way he carries himself, you often question exactly what kind of upbringing he had. You almost ask but your interrogation doesn’t have the chance to plant seeds when he stops in front of you and kneels.

You thought he was joking when he said he’d carry you home but that doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and letting him scoop your legs up around his solid waistline.

His clasp on the back of your thighs makes you shiver. You feel like a touch-starved virgin that the simple strength of his hands over the thickness of your pants incited such a reaction out of you, so you bury your burning face against the back of his neck.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Xavier must feel your hair against his neck, and you use the fact he can’t see your face to your advantage as you nod against his nape.

“Just hungry.”

For his part, Xavier doesn’t question your sudden hunger. Instead, he asks what you’re in the mood for and starts to list the restaurants that you pass on the way to the apartment complex.

You lay your cheek against him, watching the many buildings pass you by until you point out one you don’t recognize, flashing with many signs about a grand opening.

“How about that one?” you ask.

Xavier chuckles, continuing on in his steps past the building in question. “It’s not that great.”

“How do you know?”

“I tried them out.”

You squeeze into his shoulders, pushing off of them in a childlike manner and an even more dramatic gasp. “Without me?”

“I was going to bring you something back, but they weren’t very tasty. I like your cooking a lot more.”

You know he can’t see you, but you puff out your cheeks anyway. You wrap your arms tightly around him again, willing your heart not to skip when his back tenses as your chest compresses against him.

“Are you asking me to cook dinner for you? I’m quite exhausted after all that running around,” you tell him sarcastically.

He accidentally makes you regret your teasing when he agrees with a compassionate offer, “I’ll cook for you today.”

Hearing the word cook from his mouth makes your stomach sour. If there’s one thing after all these months you learned, it’s that Xavier is a…creative cook to put it gently. Or rather, he has zero cooking ability if it involves electricity. You didn’t mind. The two of you make it work with you doing most of the cooking and him cleaning up after, at your own behest, because if he had his way, he’d be in the kitchen much more often.

“On second thought, I’ll cook.”

“You still don’t trust me,” he says with a sigh. Guilt tingles through you. However, your continued survival outweighs the guilt that the memory of his puppy eyes can draw out of you. “I’ll handle the cold stuff, and I’ll leave the meat to you.”

“Deal,” you say, nuzzling your head against his neck.

When you get home, the night pans out like it always does. The two of you take turns in the shower with dinner being cooked shortly after, and the human garbage disposal known as your roommate leaves very little work for you to do once all is said and done.

You decide to start on the last of chores for today while Xavier washes the dishes. It’s routine to check the plants before going to bed as the many potted flowers were like your own children after you spent so many hours tending to them, finding the perfect ratio of nutrients and water to keep them thriving.

It is also routine to hunt down the birds so lovingly named Fatso and Alarm Clock by the sleepy man of the house to give them some of the seeds and nuts you regularly brought home from the store. You told Xavier that happy birds would stop eating his strawberries when in reality you liked to spoil them.

So, you spread out the seeds on the ground for them, leaving them there for later.

“If you feed them, they’ll never leave.”

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you. As much as he complains about the birds, you think, if his constant curiosity about the birds’ day-to-day lives was anything to go by, that he’d miss the two fluffy creatures if they were to ever find new nesting grounds. You turn back to the balcony door with a cheeky grin. “I have experience with things that don’t leave after you feed them. You enjoyed dinner a little too much.”

It’s hard to see in the fading light but Xavier blushes and brings a shy grip to the back of his neck. “Last I checked you moved in with me.”

That silences you. There’s no denying his observation, and you fail to notice him getting closer until he reaches his hand out to help you up. You willingly reach out, hand sinking into his touch as he lifts you to your feet.

The coolness of your palms touching slowly births a lingering warmth. The soft squeeze around your hand makes it hard to let him go but eventually you must. Otherwise, you might say things that are better kept to yourself as you walk back into the house and close the sliding door behind you.

With a pounding heart, you retire to your room early.

This room is a little different from the master room at your old apartment. The wall color is a little different brighter and it’s smaller. Luckily, you made the space work pretty easily by migrating half your plushie collection into Xavier’s room, checking like a dutiful mother to make sure he was treating them right and placing them with love should they roll off his dresser. Sighing, you change into slightly more comfortable clothes, choosing a random pair of soft shorts and a tank top to wear before climbing into bed. It’s ten when you finally let your eyes slip shut, and it's around eleven you feel someone touching you.

Your eyelids are surprisingly heavy; you can barely pry them open enough to see the wisp of grey-brown hair shadowing medium-blue eyes. You don’t protest as you feel his fingertips brush along your waist or when his knee digs into the mattress, sinking you towards his weight.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he wants. You raise your arm enough to let your fingertips greet the curve of his chin in silent acceptance. Slowly, you drop your hand and squeeze his bicep. Like a good little soldier, he follows the order to fall into the bed with you.

The most comfortable position is to slot your arm on top of his as he hugs your waist, props his leg on top of yours, and spoons your back. There’s absolutely zero space between your lower halves; and if he notices how you, with a small amount of shame, subtly shift and push yourself back on him a little more, he doesn’t say as he lolls his head against the curve of your neck while his incredibly light exhaling on your skin comforts you after a long day.

With a flutter of your eyelids, you slowly slip back into sleep with the happiness that comes with being roommates with your crush.

It’s times like these that make you think maybe he loves you. It’s also times like these that make you forget that despite all of the endearing things about him and despite how much you care about him, you don’t truly know a lot about him.

Xavier has always been a man with a lot of secrets. You’ve known this since you first met him asleep in the forest. It’s true that you once accepted the fact you’d never learn all his secrets but that was before whatever this abnormal relationship that the two of you found yourself in.

Even after living together for more than two months now, you still had no idea where he would go when he would sneak off in the middle of the night. You didn’t question where he goes anymore, you found that he wouldn’t give you a straight answer to save his life. You merely stayed up until you heard the sound of the door opening or the warped echo of air being sucked into a vacuum, indicating he teleported inside.

So, when you wake up at two in the morning, finding yourself alone and the side of the bed where he laid mere hours ago already cold, you’re not surprised.

Getting out of bed, you slip on your slippers and drag your feet to the balcony. It’s a familiar situation when you collapse into the swing chair, with nothing but the cold and the chirping of the birds to keep you company until he undoubtedly returns with his body hosting a family of fresh wounds.

It’s incredibly frustrating because you love him and seeing him hurt, without you having been there to prevent it, drives you crazy. You wonder why he won’t tell you, and your heart sinks, as quickly as a stone cast in a lake, with the idea that maybe you were the only one thinking that your relationship meant more than it did. Because even after all this time, you still aren’t close to him in the way you want.

Clenching your fists, you shove your eyes against them. It was all so infuriating when he ran off to fight Wanderers or whoever and left you all alone to overthink and worry about him like some helpless house plant. It was enough to make you want to cry as the strange foreboding sense of losing him begins to echo inside of you, making you nauseous. There’s only one way to get rid of this feeling. Taking in a deep breath, you settle to give him a piece of your mind about sneaking off so much and also to bite the bullet to confess your feelings.

It was only a matter of waiting for him to actually return home and to get your heightened nerves to stop firing in every direction in the meantime.

By the time you heard the door to the apartment creaking open, you’d nearly fallen asleep in the wicker swing chair. You swallow down the bitter taste of fear, ignoring the tumultuous waves it makes when it hits your stomach. You’d never get anywhere if you didn’t face him.

Carefully, you hop up from your seat and make slow strides into the apartment. It’s still dark in the house; you hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights earlier. Yet Xavier carries a lightness around him, mostly imagined by yourself, that makes him easy to spot in the darkness.

For a moment, things seem normal as he takes a few stiff steps forward. Suddenly, he falls forward, the white of his uniform nearly a blur with how fast he collapses onto the sofa, but it is nothing compared to the speed at which you rush to his side.

You call his name, press two fingers to his throat, and let your eyes slip closed with a desperate concentration as you search for his pulse behind the blaring red of his collar.

It’s a gradual pace, averaging twenty beats a minute and slowly rising. For anyone else, you’d immediately rush them to the hospital. For Xavier, that number is a relief.

You hold your hand to your pounding heart, practicing deep measured inhales to calm it. It appears he fell asleep as soon as he entered the room, with only enough awareness to kick off his shoes at the door.

It looks like your lecture will have to be postponed for another day.

You’re thankful for all the training you had to take to become a hunter because it takes an enormous amount of effort to throw one of his arms over your shoulders and drag him to his bedroom. You make a mental note to never let him question your ability to carry him again as you sit him on the bed and shuffle off his uniform jacket, leaving him only in his pants.

In a tender motion, you gently cup his face and examine him. Dirt cakes his face; and when you brush it away, there’s a small cut on his cheek. It hits you again just how reckless and secretive he can be, echoing with a bitter thought that he didn’t bring you again. The only bright spot is the little cut is his only injury this time.

Laying him on his back, you leave for only a moment to get a warm washcloth and an adhesive from the bathroom. It’s a blue band-aid with a cartoonish pink bunny on it, something a kid would love and has probably been collecting dust in the drawer longer than you’ve been alive.

It takes all the seriousness out of your body when you return, clean his face off, and place the colorful bandage on his cheek. It’s hard to believe this narcoleptic pretty boy was the strongest member of the Hunters Association.

“I didn’t think when we moved in together I was going to become a babysitter,” you commented with a little huff and poke of his cheek. “You’re terrible at taking care of yourself. Can’t cook. Can’t stay awake. Can’t tell someone when you’re going out. I bet you didn’t even lock the door when you came in. …What if a Wanderer floated in after you and trampled all the flowers, or did you just not want to leave any for me tomorrow?”

You know your complaints are falling on deaf ears as he cuddles up to his pillow without a care in the world. But if you didn’t complain, you’d get depressed instead. Dropping to your knees, you sit on the floor and prop your elbow on the bed to get a better look at him.

He looks so peaceful.

There’s no tension, no crease to his expression. It’d be easy to mistake him for a normal young man if it weren’t for the strong humming of his Evol tickling at the wall of your resonance.

“I’ll let you sleep, but you’re getting it in the morning! I expect answers. Otherwise, I won’t cook breakfast for you,” you attempt to sound threatening in your words with every poke to his cheek a not-so-silent promise to follow through. “I’ll take my missions with the new recruit all the ladies at work gossip about. And the next time I get a snack shipment, I’m letting Jeremiah have first pick!”

With one last prod to his face and no reaction otherwise, you stop your demands and sit back on your legs.

Bit by bit, you feel your energy dissolving. It’s no use. It’s all empty threats. You’ll probably not cook for a few days, eat in front of him too, at least until he gives you those puppy eyes, and you’ll fold just like origami paper. You’ll still save him the snack you know he likes even if you allow Jeremiah first pick of the rest. And you’d never be interested in the new recruit or anyone else.

Xavier can be distant and formal. For others, his hyper-independence was evident. Taking on missions alone and avoiding group settings is just the way Xavier’s personality works. He’s reliable and gets along with everyone at a surface level and he’s known to go out of his way to help others without seeking validation for it so it never ruffled any feathers when he goes off on his own or rejects an invitation to drink with the others after work.

They didn’t see. They didn’t see how easy it was to care about him. They appreciate him but they weren’t aware of how intensely and passionately he could feel when he unfurls that independent nature. How he always quietly adjusts his dominant foot to point your direction whenever a Wanderer appears. How his voice drops and his touch becomes the smallest bit more graceful and careful when he sees you upset. How sweetly he looks when he sleeps.

It makes your resolve crumble and your heart squeeze, something only he can do without even being awake to know it.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you mumble to him.

As you lean closer, you easily ignore the stirring in your gut that tells you to stop.

The bandage is a little rough against your lips as you seize the chance to kiss him. It’s a short and small thing, much more delicate than your prodding from earlier because you want to indulge the romantic in you. You want him to somehow sense the feelings cultivated in your heart over the past few months though impossible when he’s asleep.

You don’t let it last long. Instead, the desperate urge to feel his heat against you spurs you to rest your forehead against his cheek. It’s warm and soft, and the faint scent of pine trees of the no-hunt zone fills your nose. You savor being this close to him, allowing yourself to indulge in it until the heat on your skin starts to match his, and you finally let him have peace for the night.

With no need to remain in his room, you stand and pivot towards the door, wondering how you’ll manage to grasp any form of sleep tonight. However, you don’t make it two steps before there’s a tug at your arm.

You yelp as you’re pulled towards the bed while the shock has you stumbling forward into it. The hand leaving your arm in favor of grasping around your wrist stops you from falling completely but your knees have already buckled. You’re left nearly a head under him when he finally swings his legs over the side of the bed and shifts into a full sitting position. This position is oddly familiar. When you uncertainly force your eyes up to meet his face, this vulnerable angle becomes unmistakable.

His voice is husked and rasped from sleep, sending a chill up your spine when paired with the swirling shadows darkening his blue eyes under his hooded lids and dark lashes. That’s the look of a predator, of the association’s strongest hunter, and you face the inkling realization that you’re the prey.

Nervously, you begin to divert your eyes. He takes a page out of your own playbook and reaches under your chin to guide your sight back to him as you fight not to whimper at the pressure of his thumb pushing down as if he wants to part your lips. It isn’t until now that you notice how close you are to his lap and how another few inches would drop you to your knees.

“Why worry about Wanderers following me home when you’re so much scarier.”

“What do you mean?”

Memory has never been your friend. This though is the first time you’ve forgotten how to breathe when his fingers completely close around your wrist. His hold is firm, preventing you from wringing your way out of his grasp, but it doesn’t hurt.

He might as well take that grasp and use it to squeeze your heart instead when he brings your hand to his face. You’re unsure what he’s planning; the awkwardness of the situation makes your fingers straighten and twitch away as he holds your hand closer to his face. Sensing your trepidation, he closes the last of the distance instead by tilting his head into your hand with the same affection as always as he lets your fingertip brush against the silly little bunny bandage.

The familiarity of the motion puts your heart a little more at ease but not enough to bring your breathing back to you as he mumbles, “I don’t remember giving you permission to kiss me.”

Your lips part with a silent puff while your brows push forward, highlighting the confusion in your mind onto your face. He takes advantage of the moment to nuzzle your hand. It’s a notion you can’t appreciate as his words finally sink into your mind and reform into a horrifying conclusion.

“…You were awake the whole time.”

He chuckles so easily at the dry peep that echoes from you, the rivet of that warm sound collects in your palm and makes your face scalding hot. You didn’t face a burning heat like this even when fighting one of those flame dragons. All the while, Xavier was laughing at you…

“Not the whole time.”

With your head catching up, you find enough of yourself again to actually glare at him and smack his shoulder. “That’s not the point!”

With another display of strength, he locks your other wrist, pulls you up, and then snatches you into him. Luckily, you’re able to flatten your palms against his chest to brace yourself. His heart as well as his face is unnervingly calm compared to your own organ that’s currently orchestrating its escape from your chest, battering your ribcage even harder as you unconsciously stretch your fingers over his naked skin.

You don’t like this. This bullying, which you only describe as such because you can’t think of a word more fitting for the way he’s treating you, is too one-sided.

“It was on the cheek,” you argue with a steeled voice. You fake the confidence to stare him back down, choosing to trade your determination to confess to him tonight in exchange for preserving your pride. “It was friendly.”

To your satisfaction, your declaration of war makes him the one to pause this time. His eyes widen and there’s a quiver in those waves of blue that he hides by glancing down and away.

“…Is that what it was?”

You nod. “I wasn’t…going to do anything else.”

Xavier smiles, shaking his head, and there’s a new determination in his eyes that causes your teeth to clench down on the inside of your cheek as he leans closer.

“In that case, is it okay to return the favor?”

He doesn’t give you the time to answer. He’s already closing the distance, his dark lashes already fluttering, and his lips already puckering to kiss you as you’re squeezed flushed against him, only your palms stopping your chest from colliding with his.

“Wait!”

Hearing your disapproval, he pauses, but that cheeky grin still doesn’t dissipate.

“What's wrong?” he asks with a sigh. You’re sure it’s not a true question. “Am I not allowed to give you a friendly kiss as well.”

The implications make your stomach twist while your thighs squeeze together pathetically with the sudden throbbing of arousal that spikes through you as you tumble further and further into this rabbit’s trap.

“I—that’s!”

“So, you were misbehaving,” he concludes from your sheepishness. “I guess that means I need to punish you instead.” He breaks his hold around one of your wrists to ghost his fingertips along your cheek and down your neck until all you can do in response is breathe out a moan, much to his surprise given by the rise of his eyebrows and the slight dust of pink on his bewildered face. “…I didn’t think you were that sensitive there.”

Your mind swims with the traitorous thought of wanting to show him where you’re more sensitive dancing in your mind before you can sweep it away. When his fingers dance along your neck again, you whimper and hold in another moan.

“Don’t hold back on my account. You know my most sensitive spot after all, as hunting partners, it only makes sense for me to know yours, right?”

You can hardly think of a response to that. It’s true. You know his biggest weaknesses and as you come to terms with the situation you run your thumb over the plump inside of your thigh hesitantly. It takes you almost an entire minute to decide on what you want to say, and you don’t notice his hold on your wrist weakening.

“My weakness—”

Suddenly, your arm drops back to your side.

“I’m kidding,” Xavier states; the small smile he normally wears comes back to his face as you look up at him with wide eyes. “I was only curious as to what your reaction would be.”

The tension in the air wanes and buries itself in your heart. The embarrassment clings to every cell living in you, unshakeable as you try to keep a brave face. “You’re cruel.”

“Am I? You were the one touching me, all the while promising to run off with some rookie,” he reminds you.

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t—you’re so frustrating,” you scream at him, and this is the first time he appears to take you seriously all night.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, with less teasing and more concern. He wraps an arm around your waist. His legs slot between yours, leaving your knees to collide with the plush of the bed as he hugs you tighter and tighter until you’re nearly seated in his lap. “Don’t be mad. I only thought—”

“Xavier?”

“Did you really mean it then?” he redirects. He snakes his other arm around your waist, this time when he holds you it feels…weak, and his pursed lips and narrowed eyes hold back a troubled emotion. “That it was in a friendly way?”

Your breath hitches at the swirl of his thumbs nervously circling the small of your waist. Nervously, he waits for an answer you long lost in the rapids of the constantly changing tides of the last few minutes.

“If you meant it…if you truly wanted to kiss me,” he pauses, trying to find his voice. The one to tell you that you’re all he thinks about. “Then you should have woken me up.” His face holds a serene glow that completely enraptures you as he looks up at you. “I wouldn’t have rejected you,” he swore.

He loved you so much it ached. Moving in together should have been enough to prove it. He guesses not; because when he thinks you want him back, you’re so hesitant to accept. Even now, you’re unable to respond.

This cycle has become painful, even for someone as patient as himself, the wait when you’re this close to him is agonizing. So, he decides now to be the one to end this circle the two of you found yourself in with one decisive motion.

He tests the waters, not knowing if he’ll swim or drown, but he has confidence in his ability to read your personality and actions as he cups the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss.

Your mind empties immediately, your body on autopilot when it registers the warm, silky skin of his lips on yours. Closing your eyes, you willingly tumble and fall into the taste of him, chasing after it when he breaks away.

“There. We’re even,” he says, but to you, that’s far from the truth. You’re far from even after all the heartache and sleepless nights he’s been putting you through, after all the push and pull that left you aching and wanting both in your heart and between your thighs.

The self-satisfied smile on his face quickly fades as you grope his shoulders, digging your nails in like you’re afraid he’ll escape. Your knees press to the top of the bed as you plant yourself more onto his lap. He braces his hands on your hips to catch you as you run your hand into his hair and crane his head back, so he has to look you in the eye.

His ears pinken at your sudden brazenness, but it doesn’t reflect in his voice as he smiles at you. “Are you trying to get more?”

“Am I being too greedy?” you ask. He chuckles at the jut of your lips and the pleading eyes before you press another demanding kiss to the corner of his lips.

Xavier moans from his throat as he latches onto your jaw to redirect your kisses to his lips. Kissing him is nearly maddening, the twitch of his muscular thighs under your ass making your mind hazy. With one hard squeeze at your hips, he catches up to the zealousness of your kisses.

His tongue pokes and prods at your mouth. However, he doesn’t need much permission to keep going as you open your mouth wider. His mind skips and lags at just how quickly your mouth overtakes the slick appendage. It leaves him more than a little out of breath and flustered with the rate your mouths keep parting and meeting, tongues desperately searching and licking the inside your mouths as if this is the first meal you’ve had in weeks.

You’re hungry to memorize each other despite having all the time in the world now to do just that. When the two of you finally indulged enough and earned enough satisfaction, you’re able to calm down and readjust the pace.

“I think we’re both greedy,” he jokes about the both of you before sliding his tongue back into your mouth. This time he’s slower as he presses down on your tongue, causing your teeth to lightly graze over the top of his.

There are too many sensations going on for you to keep up. The way your breasts hug his hard chest has you feeling sensitive while the heat seeping from his tongue stroking in your mouth has your stomach bundled in tight knots that won’t know release until he’s inside of you.

Dreams were nothing compared to this. Nights filled with nothing but inappropriate thoughts of him turn into nightmares at the slim chance of having to face them again should this go wrong.

Impatiently, his fingers curve into the hump of your ass to anchor you and encourage you to grind on his lap, or rather grind against the hard tent brazenly making its presence known with each hurried roll of your hips.

You whine from the separation of your sexes when he begins to lift you up, but your complaints quickly die in your throat. They’re replaced by a squeal as he flips you and your back bounces on the mattress.

Xavier climbs over you, his face flushed, breath ragged, and overall, he’s just absolutely beautiful to you. Reaching up, you cup his cheek and play with the ends of his hair, unable to recall the last time you’ve felt this high.

“Xavier,” you whisper breathlessly as you swoop his bangs back to see more of his handsome face and save it to memory. “What are we?”

Xavier tilts his head, furrowing his brow at your question, and there’s a second where a ray of doubt breaks through the clouds of lust in his irises. “We’re…whatever you want to be.”

“I want to be with you,” you say. Those words tumble out more effortlessly than you ever thought.

Xavier overlaps your hand with his, holding on tight as if to prove a point. “You are with me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” he corrects. Then, he dazzles you as he always does, “I want you to tell me so there’s no mistake, and you can’t take it back later.”

You inwardly become embarrassed when it crosses your mind that this is the first time you’ve ever confessed to him without multiple drinks in your system. It’s too late to turn back now that you’ve crossed the Milky Way and landed on the other side.

But why would you when you’re so close?

“I want to be with you always. Whenever and wherever you are. Whether that’s having fun together or fighting. I-I love you, and—”

“And I love you,” he answers. You’re not sure if you’re jealous or relieved that he can say those three words without hesitation.

“I don’t want anything to be between us. I don’t want any more secrets or hidden things. I’m tired of this. I just want to be real, more than partners or roommates or whatever other title that isn’t boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Okay,” Xavier agrees as easily as he agreed to be roommates with you in the first place.

“Okay?”

“I want that too,” he agrees as he repositions himself on top of you and his lips curve into a small smirk, “girlfriend.”

You’re accustomed to the finicky organ known as your heart tightening with pain when you’re overwhelmed; this time when it skips a beat, it’s welcomed. Smiling, you gaze up at him as he releases a slow, strained breath. It’s validating to know he’s been just as nervous as you.

Everything suddenly becomes full force again when his knees move to either side of your legs while he pins your hands above your head in one tight fist. His teeth nip at your earlobe, and his free hand gropes at your breast, fingers outstretching to fully take it in his grasp. Wet kisses burn on your throat, each one firing off a rapid signal to arch your back.

“Slow down,” you whine before cutting it off with a moan as he hits a particular delicate spot. The discovery spurs him on, like a pet with a new toy, and he bites your nape once again causing your hips to jerk. With a burning desire building in your stomach at every touch, you pitifully hug your thighs together to try to ease it. “I didn’t get a chance to absorb all that,” you tell him, mostly to get some time to catch up. It backfires wonderfully as he grips onto the bottom of your tank top.

“I have a better way to help you understand.”

The sheets shift with his movement, your lower half dipping towards him as if he holds his own gravitational field. He settles between your legs and strokes against you with one slow, languid rock. It instantly makes you throb. It’s painful how hard you clench over absolutely nothing, panties gathering the lust that’s dripping from you.

You simultaneously hate and love him for causing this need that’s bubbling inside you.

Large hands press your shirt further up your torso. “Arms up,” he demands softly, which you have no problem obeying, and he quickly lifts your shirt over your head.

He lowers his hands to hold at your waist, and they fall still on you as he takes in your naked skin. You’re not privy to his thoughts. The silence of the room feels defean-ing now that your needy gasps of air aren’t filling it.

He pauses, eyes taking you in as you raise your eyebrows at his hesitancy. Xavier smiles, mumbling out, “Just thinking where to start.”

Xavier smiles at you so tenderly. Everything about him is incredibly soft on first appearance. He has big blue puppy eyes, he prefers white, cozy clothes, and his voice is just as gentle as his appearance. Everything about him is soft except for his hands.

Those are hardy and battle-honed, worn with calluses built up with every swing of the sword he’s taken since he was a child, enough of them to slay thousands of Wanderers over the years.

They drag.

Oh, they drag so dangerously slow over your skin, dipping into the pudge of your stomach and highlighting a small circle in the warm, buzzing glow of his Evol. The rays shine gold over your flesh, shimmering brightly in the dark of the room.

“Here,” he states before hunting down another spot on your torso. A beauty mark, like a beacon, earns the sharp eyes of a hunter. He zones in on the vulnerable location, creating a golden target. “Maybe here.”

You squirm with every mapped spot he creates. “Xavier.”

The residue of his power leaves your skin humming; you’re overly aware of each spot he highlights with his power. You like to think your senses would still be heightened regardless of this little game. After all, you’ve been wanting him to touch you forever.

Every night next to him felt like torture, being unable to touch him more than a hug when all you could feel on your back was his hard chest, his arm tight around your waist, and the outline of his cock against your ass as he sighed in your ear.

It runs through your head that he must have put more thought into touching you than you assumed as he continues to stripe lines over the top of your thighs right under your night shorts, making your breath heavy in your throat. You’re no longer sure if he’s marking you to tease you, to track what parts of your body he’s claimed for himself, or to simply make you laugh from the humming of his Evol tickling you like fuzzy static on an old tv screen. Even as he smiles at your shallow giggles, there’s no denying the aura of possession radiating from him that makes you antsy when he finally presses his finger to your sternum.

“Let’s start here,” he says followed by a soft hum as he tattoos a line straight between your breasts, leaving you highlighted in slowly fading graffiti.

“About time you decided,” you say with an playfully exaggerated roll of your eyes. He cocks his head at you with a sly smile.

“I can’t help if I want to touch all of you,” he murmurs. Any response you had ready dies when he licks the encircled zone of your shoulder then swiftly to the notch of your throat, drawing a moan out of you that you didn’t think you were capable of until you met him.

Tilting your head, you allow him more room to work as he kisses your chest. His warm tongue slips through the line he marked, his nose dragging against you as he litters your engorged skin with kisses.

“More,” you beg. Who was he to keep you waiting any longer?

He slips a fingerpad over the tip of your nipple, gently pressing down and then rolling it. It does nothing to satiate you. Satisfaction keeps escaping your grasp, the goalpost of what’s enough moving further out of reach with every pinch and pull of your pebbling nipples. Chasing it makes you brash, and you give a hard push to the back of his head.

Just as you want, he spoils you. He bites and nips the supple skin, drawing out soft pleas from your angelic lips. When he finally graces you with the slick, velvety lap of his tongue on your pert nipple, you mewl and arch. His lips are a little rough after being out all night, his hunger for you more palpable than ever as he gropes harder and sucks at your wet skin.

Your aching pussy throbs with every brush of his clothed cock. Your patience drains more and more as you crave something to fill you. It isn’t until he switches sides and gently nips and suckles around your other teat that you realize he’s been fingerprinting you with his Evol, the polka dots slowly fade away each time he adjusts his hand to knead your breast.

“You’re still being cruel,” you manage between moans.

“I think I’m being very fair,” he reasons, recapturing your lips to silence your complaints, and it works as your mind keeps repeating when his tongue makes a temporary reservation back in the confines of your mouth.

When he parts with you again, he cements it with a soft kiss then another. He keeps peppering them on you so fast that you almost miss the way his tongue darts over your bottom lip before his teeth bite down.

Xavier sighs between his kisses, each one adding more pressure, turning from loving, adoration-filled into needy, heavy smooches.

“Wanted.”

Another kiss that leaves you whimpering.

“To.”

He fondles your chest again, alternating between rolling and pinching your sensitive, puffed nipple then grasping your bare tits in his hands, molding and kneading them.

“With you.”

With your thighs closing at his waist, you curve your back and meet the sloppy buck of his hips. There’s a rush of excitement leaking from you when his kisses trail back over your breasts, hitting the tiny ring of bite marks he seared on you before tracing across the targets of light decorating your belly.

“So bad.”

Skin on fire, legs spread wide to accommodate his chest as he sinks lower to press wet kisses to your stomach, you call out to him. “Xavier, baby,” you whisper and brush his hair to get his attention. And does he give it to you when his eyes flick up to look at you from under the grey tuffs of his hair.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight.

You bring your finger to your lips, not only to pry them open so you can speak but also because you need to bite on it. Otherwise, the surge of lust in you at the sight of his head so close to your cunt and the back of your thighs resting on his broad shoulders would cause you to cum right there.

“My most sensitive spot…is my legs…”

It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, and he quirks his eyebrows up at you with false concern. He lowers his head to kiss your stomach again, this time noticeably closer to your mound. “Are you sure you want to tell me that in this situation? It isn’t wise for the prey to put themselves at a disadvantage.”

“I said no secrets,” you remind him, curling a finger to beckon him back up. Inwardly, you curse that he decides to bring your legs with him by keeping them propped up on his shoulders. Somehow, you manage to ignore his obvious teasing and poke at the cutesy adhesive still stuck on his face. “If you were listening, you should know you’re still in trouble for sneaking off so much without telling me.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” he tells you, a layer of remorse riding his explanation. “I wasn’t expecting to go anywhere.”

Amused, you shake your head at how boyish he sounds as he defends himself while he pulls off that wide and pleading look to bolster his cause. Even with your amusement, you’re not willing to let him off just yet. Sternly, you tap his cheek again.

“That’s not going to work this time.”

Pouting, Xavier holds onto your hand, stopping your playful jabs. “Please give me a chance to lighten my sentence, Miss Hunter, it was unintentional,” he negotiates with a kiss on your palm. The sincerity in his request eases your heart enough to allow him a little wiggle room, or perhaps it’s the slick trailing more between your folds.

“You only got until morning to make a case for yourself.”

“I’ll make you forget by then.” He snatches up your ankle towards his face, a much more pleasant position than your last, as your muscles were starting to ache from having your knees pushed to your face.

He caresses your ankle, pressing an airy kiss. The little bump of his nose against the ball of your ankle tickles, making a giggle cascade from your lips as you slide lower with the pull of your leg.

“Silly,” he mumbles before shuffling off your shorts. Your underwear comes off with more of a fight, the stickiness soaked into it causing the dainty fabric to cling lewdly to your skin and outline to the shape of your cunt.

You don’t often hear Xavier curse but that’s what happens along with his tongue rolling over his upper lip when he catches the image. He reaches out and his fingers twitch, threatening to curve against the spreading stain in your panties but he resists and hooks his fingers into the waistband. He takes his sweet time watching the doused material peeling from you with thin strands of cum sticking to it.

It takes him more effort than he’d like to admit to resist diving straight in. Instead, he keeps it slow, sensual, as much for his sake as yours as he skims his lips up your calf.

He does the same with your center, carefully pressing two fingers against you as he holds your leg up on his shoulder. His mouth stays on your inner thigh, but his eyes are entirely locked on his fingers and the way they effortlessly collect your cum and slip between your lips with barely a push. You can feel his breath shudder out against you before he forces it down with a bite of your thigh but that does nothing to hide the way his entire body tenses when his fingers slip from your clit all the way to your clenching hole.

It does nothing good for your ego or your sanity to think how normally calm and collected Xavier is losing his composure just by touching you. How he’s so obviously turned on when you haven’t nearly returned as much as he’s been giving you.

He presses his hands at the crook of your thighs, pushing your legs further apart, and quenches himself between your legs. His name leaves you in one low drawn-out sigh. Sure, you were baiting him when you told him your weakness, but you weren’t expecting him to abuse the knowledge so readily.

He held your legs blood cuttingly tight to keep you from squirming away from his wriggling tongue, and by the moan that reverberates from his chest and the strong jerk against the mattress when your juices hit his tongue, you think he would only be satisfied if you crushed his head between your straining thighs. When he suckles your clit; when his voice, muffled, hits your pussy; when his biceps tighten around your legs as if encouraging you to do so, and when his eyes meet yours with a silent demand, you know that’s exactly what he wants.

At the plunging of his fingers in you, you break down, catch his head in a vice-like grip, and push him into you. Your heart flutters and the remaining butterflies in your stomach migrate away at the growl he lets out. Your walls happily clench around those thick fingers, your dripping hole making it easy and smooth work to pump in and out of you. You’re not sure when he decides he would rather feel your muscle tightening around his tongue instead, but you can only respond with the tilt of your head back into the sheets and the stroke of your heel on his bare back when it happens.

The only thing better is his palm grinding down on your clit, alternating between slow rotations and rough sporadic grinding that has your toes curling and your eyes glossing with the buildup of tears.

“You’re too loud,” he comments yet he doesn’t stop, in fact, he presses down harder, making you whine. “You’re going to wake the neighbors.”

“Since when have you cared what the neighbors think?” you barely manage to whimper out.

“I’m not worried about them. I just don’t want anyone else to hear what only I should,” he remarks, lapping up the juices spilling down your legs.

His confession is a surprise to you. You never took him to be so possessive. But if that possessiveness is what kept his tongue swirling on your swollen clit and an intense moan escaping your lips then you didn’t mind.

However…

His fingers weren’t enough anymore.

Choosing to surprise him, you decide to turn the tables on him. You jerk your legs, catching him off guard but not enough to tip him over. He looks at you with concern. It doesn’t stop you from trying again with extra force this time until you can weaken his grasp and force him down on his back.

Having the world’s strongest hunter under you was only something you could dream of—first as a rival and now as a lover. The adrenaline has you tunnel-visioned as you straddle his stomach, your soaked cunt making a waterboard out of his abs, which Xavier has also picked up on if the dusky pink on his cheeks is anything to go by.

You grab his hands, gripping tight to regain his attention. Xavier looks taken back especially when your fingers interlock his and pin them back. Whether he’s shocked or curious you don’t know, and you also don’t ask to borrow his power.

“You’ve been having too much fun,” you tell him as you check to make sure your finger is sufficiently coated with light. “For my turn, I’ll attack here and here,” you whisper, marking off his chest and drawing a line across his neck.

There’s a hint of worry finally when he sees you’re aiming for his weak spot. “If you’re trying to teach me the best spot to kill Wanderers, I already know.”

“More like the best spots to defeat a Xavier,” you remark, flattening your palm over his heart, finding your own thumping when you verify that you finally managed to raise his heart rate to the levels of a normal human.

“You’re pretty forward today.” Xavier reaches out to hold your hips and cocks his head at you with an inquisitive glance. “Are you always this easy to excite or is it because of me?”

You feel your face heat at his question. As if he didn’t already know the answer. No one else could make you like this. Needy. Shy. Aroused. Flustered. Confused. Infatuated and in love more than you’ve ever been.

Your eyes soften. “And if I said it was you?”

“Then, you can use me all you want,” he confesses and gently coaxes you back to sit on his hard cock. You smoothly slide your hands to his shoulders, rotating loving strokes into his fair skin before you stop to free his cock from his pants.

It springs readily into your palm, so responsive. You reward him by letting him have a little taste of you. He tries to hide the hitch of his breath as if he could hide any reaction from you right now. It’s so hard to get him to react to anything, and your brain won’t let you miss a single moment as you sit back onto his lap and grind.

His cock slides between your lips, so big that you can feel it stroking you fully, his swollen, dribbling head making you whimper whenever it bumps your clit.

“You, you’re so—” he begins, his eyes flitting from the gentle shake of your tits to his cock glistening between your folds, but he loses his voice to a low whimper when you increase your pace. It’s not on purpose but you can’t help yourself; you’re aching for him just as much as he is for you. “Hah, please...”

His cock is leaking onto him with each sleek thrust, a little pool of precum glistening on his belly as your hips buck. It makes your stomach twist and your insides twitch to see him so excited for you.

“Not yet,” you tell him, brushing fingers across the length of his throat. His mouth parts with a croak that plasters a crooked smile on your face.

His eyebrows knit, and he frowns as you decide to tease him a little by slowing your strokes while your nails continue to follow the thick vein protruding from his neck as he desperately holds down his whines.

“And you call me the cruel one.”

He was gorgeous under you. Beautifully flushed and sheened with sweat. His lips were so close to quivering each time his swollen head was swallowed back under your heat. It’s strange how his pitiful expression actually excites you, leaving you wetter and funneling this cycle of him repeatedly scrunching his face before relaxing it with a moan.

“Please,” he asks again, this time more politely, pleadingly, and downright cutely. He knows what he’s doing because you decide to take pity on him when he gazes at you. “Please let me have you?”

It takes only a second for you to reposition yourself and hover over him. There’s a split hesitation when it registers that you’re actually going to have sex with him and how large he actually is with his cock standing tall and the tip kissing at your entrance. You press downward anyway.

The stretch is both painful and pleasurable, straining your nerves as you lower. The wince on your face is accompanied by a hiss on your lips. However, Xavier is there again to catch you.

“Let’s take our time,” he instructs.

You nod, slowly thrusting halfway onto him. Each rise and fall of your hips coating him with your cream little by little makes it a bit easier to sheath him each bounce.

“Good girl,” he whispers soothingly. Face constricting, he bites down on his lip to hold in a weak groan. It’s not your fault that the praise made your walls flutter and tighten.

When you finally suck him in completely, your eyes roll.

“There you go,” he continues. He slides his hand into one of yours, encouraging you to hold onto it as you slowly and pointedly follow the curve of his cock, “Just like that,” he rasps out. As you take him in fully, your pussy reaching his lap and pushing against his balls, you find it hard to concentrate on the exact words leaving him.

You take a minute to sit with him fully sheathed inside of you, allowing your stretched core to get more accustomed to his cock and also for the high of joining with him to cool off. Otherwise, you’d lose control.

You feel so full. It’s a wonderful sensation, and the pleasure increases tenfold when you lift your hips then have him stretch you again.

Rubbing your fingertips into the back of his palm, you lift and slam back onto him again, causing a ragged groan from you both that ricochets off the walls of the room. It isn’t until now that you recognize how bad you’ve been needing this.

Needed him.

You’re still nowhere near understanding why this need is inside of you. Anyone can give you pleasure, and he’s not the first, but nothing quite matched the warmth overtaking you when his cock pistons and rubs against your nerves as you ride him.

The thought that Xavier was right about fate being written in the stars barely breaks through the thick fog of arousal clouding your brain. The heat spurs you to bounce harder to meet his jerking thrusts.

He sighs under you; the pressure on his lower half increases while your eyesight blurs and your head angles back. You’ll both be each other’s undoing at this rate, he thinks, as he watches the beads of sweat accumulating in little shiny droplets on your forehead and on your bouncing chest in a light sheen.

Chasing that desire to see you undone, he pulls you to a halt, burying himself deep inside of you, before pressing his hand to your mound, brushing past the patch of damp hair to zone in on your sticky, swollen clit.

The instant whine of his name makes him dizzy. Centuries have gone by, and he’s never heard you say his name with such wanton desperation nor seen you grind onto him, stirring his cock in you as if your sanity depended on it.

His certainly depended on you. Always has especially in the many decades he thought he’d never see you again. That need is even clearer from how sensitive yet eager his cock is to you squeezing around it as you shudder on top of him while keeping an unbearably tight hold on his hand. Your movements come to a near stop except for the occasional rut to prolong the rush of your orgasm.

The sight of you breaking down on top of him threatens to make his eyes roll back as he squeezes onto your legs for grounding. Your strangled gasp followed by your muscles relaxing tells him that you’re coming down.

“I take it you’ve finished,” Xavier says with a smirk, and you only have half the mind to swat at his chest like a lazy cat. Your legs burn, your chest unable to fill with enough oxygen to catch your breath. You think you’ll skip the gym tomorrow but Xavier has other plans.

“I’m not finished,” he reminds you.

You look down at Xavier; you’d been so busy finding your own pleasure, you didn’t realize he hadn’t cum yet. You feel a lingering guilt but he swiftly takes the situation into his own hands.

You’re still too sensitive to fight back as he slides his cock out of you with a wet pop. It takes two swift movements for him to lift you off of him and roll you onto your stomach.

Your chest feels restricted, tight to the mattress as he presses on top of you, his grey-brown hair rubbing your shoulder as he cuddles your back. It’s an affectionate notion, distracting from the pressure in your lower half as he slides off the last of his clothes and thrusts his cock back inside of you.

You thought you were filled to the brim the first time, yet this angle was different. It felt much tighter, and the slightest shift of his hips had you muffling moans into your arms.

“I want to hear you,” he sweetly requests, yanking on your hips to raise your ass higher and pull you further away from the muffling effects of the bed. Your fracturing mewls mix into his grunts, both sounds washing out the sloppy, wet paps of his cock pounding into you.

His hand swoops down your bending back in one long soothing stroke before his head collapses onto you. His grunts are loud, tumbling right into your ear along with the slapping sound of his hips meeting your ass. Your legs feel like jelly, and the rest of your body becomes weightless as your mind only focuses on his cock recklessly burning its way through you.

Xavier’s breath rolls against your back along with his forehead as he buries you under his weight; his grip on your thighs tightens to an unbearable degree, leaving you to wonder if you’ll have marks in the morning.

You don’t really care if he does when he moans your name and heat fills you, spreading with each sporadic thrust until he finally bottoms out inside you one last time and holds until he completely empties.

Taking his time to enjoy the sensation, he waits before pulling out of you, making you whimper with the sudden void. Shakily, you collapse back into the sheets and flip onto your back with a sigh. His eyes are still half-lidded as he watches you; he chews briefly on his bottom lip, reminding you of the look in his eyes earlier.

“Xavier,” you question but he silences you with a kiss, which you tiredly return. His fingertips slide down from your knee to your thigh, and he teases your opening, the mixture of cum making it easy for him to stroke your still spasming pussy.

Xavier sighs against your lips before moving his kisses to the swoop of your neck. “You’re so beautiful and all mine.”

Your mouth parts with a dry moan as he slides thick fingers over your clit. It starts to ache from his touch but it’s hard to deny him, even as he tortures you with his methodic and precise rotations over the bead.

His name is on your mouth, each syllable heavy on your tongue. You leave garbled gasps in his mouth as he makes out with you while your hand draws down his chest, attempting to make a mental map of every twitching muscle and healed wound on the way down.

Your heart jumps with the twitch of his cock when you wrap your hand around it. There’s going to be no trouble getting him to rebound, you think. He’s already thickening again with the warm strokes of your hand and tracing of your fingers over the slowly beating vein lining the underside of his shaft.

Xavier doesn’t even let you finish exciting him before he rolls back on top of you and settles his head between your breasts. Between all the cum in between your legs and his half-hard cock, it isn’t as mind-numbing to have him inside you. What is different is to feel him twitching and growing inside you with his renewed thrusts.

You’re hiccupping by the time he pushes your legs back and starts to hit deep inside of you, leaving the corner of your eyes tearing. You’re overwhelmed with everything. The uncharacteristic amount of energy he possesses as his hips snap into you. How each powerful rock leaves tingles aftershock-ing inside you, ruining your chances to recover before he does it again. The heavy scent of sex mixed with pine overwhelms your nose. His sweaty chest blocks out any light in the room, sealing any notion that you can be distracted by anything other than him as he pushes up your knee towards your chest.

You’re quickly working up to your second orgasm; the painful cramping in your foot tells you it’ll be bigger than the last. You’re right. When you come undone again, it’s with a shrill sob. You’re too out of it to even register when he finishes until he starts kissing your neck again.

He’s still inside you, you realize once your mind finally lands back on earth. His cock is resting in the heat inside you, waiting for him to work the two of you back up again. You know that’s the goal when his thumb gently brushes over one of your nipples again. Your sore insides constrict and strain. You don’t think you could survive a third round.

“Xavier, please, no more.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice dry and husky in your ear as he kisses under it.

“Too much,” you tell him, pushing on his chest to make some space between the two of you.

“I didn’t catch that,” he coos defiantly. When he notices that you’re being serious, he obediently pulls out of you. His kisses become smoother as he pecks your lips. “What’s wrong? Is it aching?”

You nod then puff your cheeks in frustration when you see the amusement on his face.

“It’s not funny!” you say, holding onto that angry, childish pout until his smile turns sympathetic.

“You’re right,” he agrees and shifts off you. Quickly, he locates his briefs on the corner of the bed. He steps out of bed and pulls them on. To your surprise, he leaves you, alone and cold.

“Where are you going?”

Xavier disappears without answering you and only the sound of running water gives you any sort of hint of where he might’ve gone. When he returns, it’s with a rag dangled in his hand.

“A boyfriend should help clean his girlfriend up after times like this,” he explains and leans over you; he presses the wet cloth between your legs; the rag is incredibly soothing on your bloated skin. It’s a blessing to your sore muscles as he starts to massage and clean you. “It feels better already, doesn’t it?”

“I guess,” you answer pitifully, grumbling a bit because the look on his face still seems like he’s teasing about your neediness.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s my fault you’re a little sore.” He’s definitely taunting you, but you don’t have the energy to fight about it. “All done,” he remarks, tossing the rag to a forgotten section of the dresser. He carefully climbs back on top of you, waiting for the moment your hand finds his bicep to guide him down next to you.

It isn’t the first time he’s been this affectionate, and it won’t be the last time. However, this time feels more special than any time you’ve slept together, and not just because you can feel the stickiness of his sex-clad skin against your naked body. Well, that’s part of the reason.

“Something on your mind?”

“Nothing. I’m really happy,” you explain.

“If it really makes you that happy, maybe we should do it more often,” he offers, and you pinch his unwounded cheek to punish him. Jumping back, he knocks your hand away and caresses his wounded face. “I’ll need another bandage if you keep doing that,” he complains weakly.

“You only have yourself to blame!”

Xavier sighs. “You’re always right,” he concedes, more so that he can cuddle you without fighting rather than actually agreeing with you, you fear.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Are you really doubting your boyfriend?” he asks. Heartbeat skipped, you clamp your mouth shut as he unfolds the blankets over the two of you.

It’s finally settling back into your mind that the two of you are a couple now. “I’m still…not used to it yet with you being that.”

“You will get used to it the longer we’re together. The same as I will.” Xavier sighs, happily so. “Although, we might run into the same problem again.”

You blink at him. “Why?”

Thoughtful, Xavier hums then explains, “First comes love then comes marriage as they say.”

He catches you off-guard once more. As always, Xavier is forever forging on ahead with little regard for convention. “Aren’t you thinking too far ahead?”

“Maybe,” he agrees but there’s no drop in his confidence as he smiles at you and draws his hand over your hairline. “But I loved you since we met.”

“Xavier, please,” you beg, finding your favorite place to hide your flustered face in the crook of his elbow.

He can’t help but laugh at you as he curls his arm around you. “Especially that,” he confesses and places one more kiss on the top of your head before inviting you to go to sleep.

You do, falling asleep against his chest less than thirty minutes later. For him, sleep is elusive for once as he mulls over the day’s events.

The word girlfriend on his tongue is sweet. The idea itself burns wonderfully in his chest, but it isn’t enough. He knows he still needs to wait a bit longer, take his time, your bashful response to his prodding was enough to tell him that it isn’t time yet. It’s hard not to rush when this is the closest he’s ever been to the one thing he truly wants.

Xavier guesses he’ll still have to rely on his dreams for a little while longer. It’s okay, he tells himself, it’ll work out this time. He’ll find a place to settle with you and have a quiet life, a place where he can see stars.

And this lifetime, when he asks you to marry him, he hopes you’ll say yes.

#xavier x reader #xavier smut #love and deepspace x reader #lnd smut #xavier love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads smut #notsfw #adelssmut

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ckret2 · 1 year ago

Text

A leaked list of some of the exciting upcoming content from The Book of Bill:

The pyramids of Giza ranked from most to least sexy.

Winning lottery numbers. He does not say which game they're for.

Three pages of Bill practicing blackletter calligraphy so that he can write the fancy-looking "The Book of Bill" on the cover. (Meant to tear those pages out before submitting book to publisher.)

A section where he implies that all your headcanons about him are stupid. Yes, your headcanons specifically. If you compare your copy of the book to a friend's, these sections will have different text. He insults all headcanons equally, even the ones that contradict each other.

A long, rambling story about a funny thing that he saw at a party in the Nightmare Realm, but he keeps getting distracted gossiping about the embarrassing love affairs and crimes against reality the partygoers have committed. Not a single one of these characters has ever been mentioned before or ever will be again. He gets so distracted he never finishes the original funny story. He was clearly drunk when he wrote this section.

A pet care sheet on how to keep a pet axolotl. All of the information is extremely wrong.

Some of the other dimensions he's tried and failed to conquer. He keeps insisting that all the failures were somebody else's fault. It's extremely obvious that they're his fault.

A photograph of a vivisected elephant, for some reason.

A phone number written on a cocktail napkin that Bill insists would be really funny for all the readers to prank call. It leads to the desk phone of the director of the CIA.

Bill claims he definitely totally knew that Stan was disguised as Ford the whole time, he only played along to trick the Pines back, and then he quickly changes the topic.

A page of Bill's original poetry. It's all unintelligible symbols. It will take 27 years for somebody to crack the code. They're all gory but juvenile limericks.

A cocktail recipe. It will kill you.

Bill's original version of the portal blueprints that he copied to give Ford, with Bill's handwritten annotations. One part of the blueprints is labeled "component that will accidentally destroy the universe. REMEMBER NOT TO INCLUDE THIS COMPONENT IN SIXER'S COPY!!" He underlined this twice. If this page is compared to the portal blueprints in Journal 3, it's clear that Bill included that component in Ford's copy.

A personality quiz to help you meet your ideal sleep paralysis demon.

Bill's baby pictures. He looks exactly the same, except his bow tie and top hat are too big.

Bill reveals that he thought the llama symbol on the zodiac wheel referred to that farmer guy on the edge of town, and he was super confused to see Pacifica there.

Multiple pages scattered through the book about Bill's amazing powers, his brilliant and fun plans for our dimension, and all the cool favors he's willing and able to do for his friends and followers. All these pages end with a passive-aggressive aside about how somebody would have to be REALLY stupid to turn down an invitation to join Bill's crew, Stanford Pines—

A page labeled "My loyal servants and slaves!" filled with several hideous, oozing, nightmare-inducing Lovecraftian monsters, and one Mickey Mouse.

A self-portrait depicting Bill riding a rocket ship playing an electric guitar while rainbow lightning flashes all around him and money rains down from the sky.

A cynical, sneering tirade about how love is evolution's idiotic way of tricking primitive species into reproducing and how only simple-minded mortals who can't separate their true thoughts from their hormones fall for it. In the margins he's drawn a heart around the words "Bill Cipher +" a scribbled-out blot. The blot is completely unreadable. Despite this, the fandom will spend years debating the name underneath based on the size of the blot.

Extremely stupid "explanations" about various unsolved mysteries and crimes. In six years the world will discover one of them is accidentally correct and Alex Hirsch will get investigated by the FBI.

The book will be divided into four sections. Each section will begin with a big illuminated letter. In order, the four illuminated letters spell "F" "U" "C" "K".

#gravity falls #bill cipher #the book of bill

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romerona · 5 days ago

Text

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

Carmy stood in the dimly lit laundry room, hands on his hips as he glared at the washing machine like it had personally wronged him. The display panel flashed erratically, like it was trying to send an SOS in Morse code, while a faint but concerning smell of burning plastic wafted through the air.

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. All he wanted was to wash his clothes—just one normal task in a sea of chaos. Apparently, even that was asking too much.

With a frustrated sigh, he muttered curses under his breath and gave the machine a half-hearted nudge with his foot, as if that might magically revive it. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. The machine remained defiantly lifeless.

“Wow. Bold strategy. Were you planning to wrestle it next?”

The voice startled him. He turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, holding a laundry basket overflowing with brightly colored clothes. You were dressed in the epitome of Saturday comfort: an oversized t-shirt with a graphic that read 'Physics: It’s Not Rocket Science... Oh, Wait, Yes It Is,' paired with baggy sweatpants and ridiculously fluffy, colorful monster feet slippers. Your hair was slightly messy like you’d just rolled out of bed—or perhaps fought the laundry demons he was now dealing with.

Your lips curved into a teasing smile as you tilted your head. “I’m impressed. I didn’t know machines responded to passive-aggressive foot taps.”

Carmy let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t have a better idea.”

“Well,” you said, stepping into the room and setting your basket down on the counter, “I hate to break it to you, but this thing looks like it’s plotting your demise. What’s the issue? Won’t open?”

“It stopped mid-cycle,” he explained, gesturing toward the uncooperative machine. “Clothes are stuck. It’s probably fried.”

“Oof. Smells like defeat and polyester.” You crouched down to inspect the machine, tilting your head like a mechanic sizing up a stubborn engine. “Looks like it’s giving you the silent treatment. Did you try apologizing? Promising to separate your whites and darks next time?”

“Funny,” Carmy deadpanned, though the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

You straightened up, planting your hands on your hips in a stance that could only be described as authoritative. “Well, lucky for you, Carmy-next-door, I happen to be an expert in broken things.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. “Yeah? How’s that?”

You let out a playful scoff, crouching in front of the washing machine as if it were a patient in need of your expertise. “When you work in a place that runs on shoestring budgets and prayers, you pick up a thing or two about fixing stuff. I’ve practically got a minor in MacGyver-ing. It’s part of my many talents.”

He smirked, watching as you pressed a few buttons and tapped the side of the machine like you were coaxing it back to life. “Sounds like a tough gig.”

“Oh, it’s a blast,” you replied sarcastically with a grin, peering at the machine’s latch. “But the real fun is my lovely fourth graders and their… slippery fingers. Nothing keeps you on your toes like finding out your class stapler’s been dismantled to ‘see how it works.’”

“And you adore them,” Carmy guessed, his voice soft but sure.

“Ugh, to a fault,” you admitted, sitting back on your heels to glance at him. “They’re chaos in human form, but they’re my chaos. Like when Marcus decided to see if he could use glitter glue as a bookmark. Spoiler alert: he couldn’t. And then there was Kayla’s science project that involved exactly zero science but a lot of snacks. Kids are wild, but they’re kind of the best.”

Carmy chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shook his head. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

You huff a laugh nodding. “But they make all the broken stuff worth it... also, they’ve prepared me for moments like this. Fixing things? I’m a pro. Diffusing meltdowns? Also a pro. Dodging paper balls? Let’s just say my reflexes are unmatched.”

He chuckled quietly, his blue eyes softening as he observed your easy confidence. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Oh, hardly,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh.

He watched as you tinkered with the inner workings of the washer, the way your monster-footed slippers stuck out behind you, and the light in your eyes as you spoke about your students. There was something captivating about the way you moved—confident but never overbearing, your words spilling out in an endless stream of humor and warmth. For someone who probably dealt with endless chaos in your day-to-day life, you had an energy about you—warmth—messy and vibrant—that felt oddly grounding in his otherwise muted world.

Finally, with a triumphant click, the washer’s door popped open. A puff of warm, damp air escaped, carrying with it the faint scent of detergent. You rocked back on your heels, grinning up at him as if you’d just disarmed a bomb.

“And there you have it!” you declared standing up, sweeping your arm dramatically toward the liberated laundry like a game show host revealing a grand prize. “Your clothes are finally free, Chef Carmy. Laundry liberation, courtesy of yours truly. I accept gratitude in the form of snacks, coffee, or eternal admiration—your choice. But please, no autographs. I have to stay humble.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Carmy said, huffing a quiet laugh as he shook his head, stepping forward to start transferring the damp clothes into another machine. His tone softened slightly as he added, “But thanks, really. I owe you one.”

You waved a hand dismissively, already moving to the next machine with your own basket in tow.

“Don’t worry about it, Carmy…” you said, your tone casual, though the smirk playing on your lips suggested otherwise. “But, if you do feel like you want to repay me, feel free to bring me more of those leftovers—like the ones you brought when I first moved in.”

He paused, eyebrows raising slightly as he met your gaze. “That’s what you want? Leftovers?”

“Not just any leftovers,” you clarified, turning back to load more clothes. “The fancy ones. Braised short ribs, perfectly roasted vegetables... whatever culinary magic you’re whipping up in that kitchen of yours. Don’t think I forgot.”

Carmy paused mid-transfer, glancing at you with a faint, almost embarrassed smile. “You liked those, huh?”

“Liked?” you scoffed, tossing a pair of socks into the machine. “I was ready to write you a thank-you sonnet. That braised short rib? Poetry in food form. You’ve ruined me for takeout forever.”

He chuckled softly, shutting the door to his machine. “It was just a test recipe.”

“Well, then I’d be happy to test more of your recipes,” you said with a wink, starting your own machine and leaning back against it. “Strictly as a favor, of course. I’m nothing if not generous.”

“Generous,” he repeated, shaking his head with a smirk as he pressed the start button on his machine. He glanced at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

“See?” you teased, flashing him a grin. “You’re already getting the hang of this whole neighborly exchange thing. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my expectations high.”

Carmy shook his head, letting out another quiet laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you quipped, settling yourself into the nearby chair and grabbing a book from the empty laundry basket at your feet. You opened it casually, like you weren’t fully aware of the fact that his attention was still on you. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Chef Carmy. I’ve got standards now.”

Carmy smirked faintly, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter, arms loosely crossed. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, watching as you flipped through the book, completely at ease. The light in the room, though dim and slightly yellowed, softened your features, making you look... warm. Pretty, even. The oversized t-shirt, the messy hair, and those ridiculous monster slippers didn’t detract from it—in fact, they only made you more endearing. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Instead, he tucked the thought neatly into the back of his mind, letting it sit there quietly.

The faint hum of the working washing machine filled the space, stretching the silence between you into something that felt oddly comfortable. He wasn’t used to that—not in conversations, not in moments like these. Usually, silence felt heavy, awkward, something to be broken. But this? This felt... different.

Still, the need to say something eventually won out, despite his lack of finesse with small talk. Clearing his throat softly, Carmy shifted his weight and finally asked, “So... uh, how are you liking it here?”

You glanced up from your book, your lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “In the building? Or in the laundry room?”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh, looking down briefly before meeting your eyes again. “The biulding, I guess."

“Oh, it’s not bad,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “The walls are a little thin—I may or may not know the entire plot of the soap opera your upstairs neighbor is binging—but they are decent. A little quiet, though, except for one guy who keeps kicking appliances. Total menace.”

“Sounds rough,” Carmy deadpanned, though his smirk gave him away.

“It is,” you said with mock solemnity before your smile softened. “But honestly? I like it. It’s... cozy, you know? Feels like a place where things can settle down.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor. “That’s good.”

“It’s growing on me,” you admitted, closing the book and resting it on your lap. “I mean, it’s not every day you move into a building and immediately make friends with someone who’s probably going to be on the cover of Some Fancy Chef Magazine someday.”

“Friends?” he said, arching a brow.

“Yeah, friends,” you replied with a teasing grin. “Or at least laundry room acquaintances.”

He shook his head, his smirk softening into something closer to genuine. “Friend's better.”

"Good," You smiled, shifting slightly in your chair. “So, Carmy-next-door, aside from working and battling possessed washing machines, what do you do for fun?”

“For fun?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as though you’d just asked him to name every spice in his kitchen alphabetically. “Uh... I don’t know. Not sure I’ve got much time for that.”

“Not buying it,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Everyone’s got something. Come on, spill. What’s your guilty pleasure? Do you secretly knit in your downtime? Binge-watch trashy reality TV? Start a garden but refuse to tell anyone because it ruins your ‘serious chef’ vibe? And if you are, I know someone who could be your new best friend.”

He let out another quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “None of those, but now I’m thinking I should start knitting just to throw people off.”

“Do it,” you said, pointing at him. “Then you can make me a scarf. But seriously, what’s your thing? There’s gotta be something.”

Carmy hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “I guess... sometimes I’ll just walk around the city. Clears my head, you know?”

You nodded, smiling softly. “That’s a solid choice. City walks are like people-watching with a side of fresh air. What’s your favorite spot?”

“There's this park near the river. Quiet, not too crowded. Good place to think." Carmy tells her.

"Sounds nice," you replied, smiling. "I might have to check it out sometime."

"You should," Carmy said, his expression softening. He clears his throat, "I-uh, I used to draw, though. Sketch stuff when I had the time.”

“Used to?” you asked, leaning forward a bit, intrigued. “You mean you don’t anymore? Or are you just too modest to admit you’ve got sketchbooks hidden under your bed?”

His smirk faltered into something a little more genuine, a touch of shyness creeping into his expression. “I still do. Sometimes. When things aren’t too crazy.”

“Now that’s interesting,” you said, sitting back with a thoughtful smile. “What kind of stuff do you draw? People? Landscapes? Elaborate food masterpieces?”

“A little of everything,” he said with a small shrug. “But mostly recipes, or at least how I want them to look."

“Like a visual diary,” you said, nodding. “That’s actually really cool.”

“Yeah, well...” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing big.”

“Carmy,” you said, tilting your head at him. “You just admitted to having an actual hobby, and I’m here for it. Don’t downplay it.”

He huffed, shaking his head flushing ever so slightly. “Alright. What about you? What do you do for fun?”

“Me?” you repeated, your eyes lighting up as you sat back in the chair, clutching your book like a prop in a comedy routine. “Well, let’s see. I’m a professional daydreamer, certified in overthinking, and an expert-level snack enthusiast. It’s an impressive resume, I know.”

Carmy chuckled, the corner of his mouth twitching into a rare smile. “Sounds like a full-time job.”

“Oh, it is,” you said with a mock-serious nod. “But if we’re being serious... I like to read, obviously.” You held up the book for emphasis. “And I’m a sucker for a good movie. Big screen, small screen, doesn’t matter. I also like to go out with friends— go to clubs, a karaoke bar, grab dinner, play board games, complain about life. You know, the usual.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “Any favorites? Books or movies?”

“Hmm,” you mused, tapping your chin. “For books, I like a little bit of everything—mysteries, fantasy, even the occasional cheesy romance. Keeps life interesting. And movies... I’m a sucker for feel-good comedies. But every now and then, I’ll binge something dark and broody just to balance it out.”

Carmy nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Feel-good comedies? Got any recommendations?”

“Oh, I’ve got tons,” you said, your eyes gleaming. “But only if you’re ready for some real classics. Think Clueless, The Princess Bride, or When Harry Met Sally. If you’ve never seen those, we might have to reassess this friendship.”

“Clueless,” he repeated, remembering the movie because of Natalie who forced him and Mikey to watch it, one eyebrow-raising. “That the one with ‘As if’?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, pointing at him with enthusiasm. “See? You’re already on the right track.”

He smirked, shaking his head again. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“What about you? Do you watch movies, or is that too much fun for someone as serious as Chef Carmy?”

He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I watch stuff sometimes. Nothing specific. Just... whatever’s on.”

“Lame answer,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ll work on that. I’ll make you a list. Everyone needs go-to favorite movies.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said, his smirk softening.

“Good,” you replied with a playful nod, leaning back in your chair. “And since you’re such a layer enigma, like an onion, I’m guessing you don’t do the whole ‘night out with friends’ thing often?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “Doesn’t happen much.”

“You should,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your tone teasing but warm. “You might surprise yourself. One minute you’re awkwardly standing in a corner, and the next, you’re reenacting a dance scene from Dirty Dancing with a stranger. That’s how the best stories happen.”

Carmy shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Not sure that’s my thing.”

“Hey, it doesn’t have to be Dirty Dancing,” you said with a shrug. “But everyone deserves a good night out now and then. Even mysterious chef-next-door types.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But no promises.”

“Fair,” you replied, looking over at him with a soft smile. “I’m just saying, Chef Carmy, you can’t live in your kitchen forever. Sometimes you’ve gotta step out and find your own rom-com moment.”

Carmy stared at you for a moment, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. He shook his head, as though amused by something he couldn’t quite put into words, but the warmth in his expression lingered.

The hum of the machines filled the room, a soft backdrop to your easy conversation. What started as playful banter drifted into more thoughtful exchanges—small glimpses into each other’s lives, quirks, and histories.

Minutes melted into what felt like seconds, neither of you noticing the time slipping away. For once, it wasn’t about schedules, responsibilities, or the ever-present noise of the outside world. Just two neighbors sharing stories in the glow of the laundry room’s dim light.

A/N: So, thank you so much for all the support. It really keeps me going. I'm thinking of making like a small series of this, like a few interactions before they started dating- maybe some jealousy along the way lol- the first date- maybe the future but idk.

Also, just in case I do, please tell me if you would like to be tagged.

Part 4?

@themorriganisamonster

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #reader-insert #reader insert #the bear #abbott elementary #abbott elementary x reader

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exhaslo · 8 months ago

Note

Okay but like...

How about a werewolf!Miguel and reader who like to do role play in bed.

Like he comes home and walks through the bed room door to find reader in like red lingerie and a red hood.

Miguel is using all his inner strength to keep his from showing excitement as he crawls ontop of her like a predator. But his tail wagging aggressively behind him was a dead give away.

I feel like I had an idea for a Werewold!Miguel a while ago, but I can't remember what it was...Hopefully I will remember!!

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, roleplay, overstimulation, slight breeding kink

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Earth-40382

A mythical world where humans coexist with those of what people in other worlds call, 'monsters'. From vampires, to mermaids to even leprechauns, nothing was out of the ordinary in this world.

Not even your Werewolf boyfriend, Miguel O'Hara.

In this world, you were the Spider-Woman who fought crime. Miguel was your loving boyfriend who supported you. Even when you got recruited to the Spider Society; however, there have been times where he would get jealous of another man's scent on you.

You didn't mind because you loved seeing Miguel jealous, that and the sex was over the moon!

Which was why, when you saw a movie from one of the Peter's world, you had a devilish idea. You have told your boyfriend about how other worlds differ from yours greatly. Plus, whenever you could, you would sneak some movies and shows from other worlds too.

Recently, you showed your boyfriend movies about Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.

While taking offense to some of the topics in the movie, you couldn't notice how Miguel's tail wagged as the character with the red hood appeared.

This sparked an idea.

You had finished work early and had no missions or drama happening for the rest of the day. Well you hoped the later would still remain silent. On your way home, you stopped by the tailor, hoping that your new outfit was ready.

Thank god it was.

Unable to hide your glee, you took your new suit and hurried home. Miguel was still at work, so you had time to make the mood perfect. You were going to have fun tonight.

------

Everything was set. All you had to do was wait for Miguel to return home. You put on the cute red riding hood dress you bought, double checking to make sure it fit perfectly. This was something new and you hoped Miguel would like it.

"Mhm, what if he doesn't like it?" You muttered to yourself.

"(Y/N), I'm home." Miguel called out.

You jumped from hearing Miguel's voice, a little worried about the idea now. Taking deep breathes, you poked your head out from the bedroom door, spotting your boyfriend sniffing the dinner you made. His tail wagged and ears pointed upwards, which meant that he was in a good mood.

"Hm? (Y/N), why are you hiding?" Miguel asked with a chuckle as he caught your scent.

"I'm not hiding~ I'm waiting~" You cooed.

Miguel sensed your playful tone as he hurried over. You giggled to yourself as you crawled onto the bed, waiting for his reaction. Once Miguel opened the door, his eyes widen as you laid before him in the beautiful red hood.

"Welcome home, my big bad wolf~"

Miguel was at a loss for words as he drank you up with his eyes. His tail uncontrollably wagging as his pupils grew wide. Miguel slowly made his way over to you, climbing over your small frame compared to his.

"This is dangerous, (Y/N). I just wanna eat you up." Miguel said with a low groan, his head buried against your neck.

"I don't have work tomorrow, Miggy. Won't you be a good boy and play along?" You asked with a pout.

Miguel groaned once more before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. His hunger for you was strong as his tongue devoured your mouth with little time for you to fight back. His grip was heavy against you waist, his hands desperate to strip you nude.

As Miguel explored the cavern of your mouth, he broke free from the kiss to adore you. His fangs poking out while his pupils dilated. You had done your job and managed to get your boyfriend horny.

"(Y/N), I won't be able to hold back,"

"Then don't. You know I can handle it," You said, catching your breathe.

Miguel just chuckled as he started to lick and suck against your neck. His hands now massaging and groping your breasts while his bulge rubbed against your clothed cunt. You whimpered a moan as Miguel rutted roughly against you.

Honestly, despite your super powers from being Spider Woman, Miguel still dominated over you in bed. Your stamina was nothing compared to your werewolf boyfriend. You had learned the hard way whenever it was a full moon.

Your body had been sore for days.

Recalling the moon, your eyes widen as you tried to look over to the calendar beside the bed. You had forgotten to check when the full moon was! Gasping, you noticed that it was none other than today.

Of course.

"Mig-Ah~" You moaned as Miguel took your breast within his mouth.

You were starting to feel dazed as Miguel toyed with you with the dress. His fingers had already dipped down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles against your sensitive bud. His tongue roughly licking and sucking against your nipples, desperate to make you cum.

You tried to call out to your boyfriend, wanting to remind him of the moon, but you couldn't focus. Your core was burning up as you felt the urge to give into Miguel's movements. Your body arching from the pleasure.

"Ah~ Mhm~" You moaned as you cam.

"Haaaah, (Y/N), I can't hold back," Miguel groaned as he striped himself.

You wanted to marvel at his body which seemed to sparkle like a god. Your eyes focused downward towards his erect dick, already accepting your fate.

You weren't going to work for the next week.

"M-My, Miguel...what a big dick you have..." You giggled, trying to play along. Miguel just chuckled as he poked his dick against your entrance,

"All the more to breed you with."

And there it was. You gasped and moaned as Miguel thrusted his cock deep inside you. You hadn't even noticed when he ripped the panties off your dress. Tears formed against the corner of your eyes since the full moon affected Miguel differently.

"So tight. Just for me," Miguel whispered as he started to thrust into you, "Perfect for my babies."

"M-Miggy~"

You called out to your boyfriend, wanting to remind him to be a little gentle with you. Your walls were stretching with each thrust of his dick, bruising your cervix with every hit. You gasped and moaned with every slap of his hips, falling deeper into his lust filled attack.

"Little Red wants my babies, don't you? Such a naughty girl, my only girl." Miguel growled lowly as he pinned you into mating position.

You cried out as you felt Miguel reach deeper inside you. His words turning your mind into putty as you just agreed to his desires. Your body cumming and giving into his wishes, squeezing and begging for him to fill you.

"Miggy~ Ah~ R-Right there~" You cried out.

Miguel grunted as he slapped himself into you. Your cunt fluttering against his cock as your juices formed a white ring around his dick. All this causing Miguel to lose himself into you. His teeth marking your body as his thrusts became rougher.

"My mate. Mine." He growled, cumming inside you, "Not enough,"

"Hah, hah...M-Mig...F-Full...moo-ah~" You arched your back as Miguel kept thrusting into you.

Your legs were starting to grow weak and your mind was fading fast. Miguel tore your dress by your breasts, taking one with his mouth as he rutted into you.

"S-So....m-much~" You moaned, feeling his thick cock push his cum deeper inside you, "Ah~"

"Mine. Pretty red," Miguel grunted, capturing your lips in a kiss as he felt you cum once more, "Gonna have my babies, (Y/N). Don't waste a drop,"

You laid against the bed, a babbling mess as you let Miguel fuck you stupid. It was safe to say the dress worked...perhaps on a different night you would have enjoyed the roleplay a little more.

"Once more,"

Nights of the full moon were always restless nights if you couldn't give Miguel some sleeping pills. It had been a while since Miguel fucked you as rough as he did, but you never complained. You enjoyed being filled and loved.

"Aye, sorry (Y/N). I went overboard." Miguel apologized the next morning as he whimpered and showered you with kisses.

"It's okay....I should have paid attention," You whispered softly.

Miguel whimpered more as his ears and tail fell. He carried you to the shower to wash you up, wanting to take care of his precious mate. Rubbing his head against yours, Miguel gave you a sad puppy look,

"I didn't transform...did I?" He asked. You giggled softly, kissing his head,

"If you did, I'd be even more exhausted and full,"

"Sorry, (Y/N)," Miguel apologized once more. You pecked his lips as he washed you,

"You can apologize by getting me a new red dress."

"Of course!"

Another great thing about having a werewolf boyfriend....Miguel would always make-up to you after once of his restless nights.

Not that you complained.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!!

#spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x fem!reader

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 4: Teratophilia (aka monster fucking)- Venom/Eddie Brock

Summary: Eddie worries about you during intimate times but Venom helps out 😉

Word count: 3,585 words

When you first started dating Eddie you had no idea about the symbiote attached to him and honestly he was really scared to tell you. Venom made it very difficult for Eddie to take his time telling you too, which made him even more nervous in this fresh relationship.

“Come on, man, you can’t keep yelling at me while I’m on a date! I’m already nervous and trying not to fuck it up as it is!” He spoke to his alien friend as he gets home from his 3rd date with you.

“I want her to meet me! I am far more charming!” Venom argued back.

“Okay 1, that was very rude and 2, I want this to work out. You do have to realise that you could scare her.” Eddie replied trying to calm Venom down.

“I might scare her at first but she will love me! If she knows about me then we can look after better!” Venom argued.

“You’re not going to stay a secret for forever but just give me a month.” Eddie told his symbiote as he sat down on the couch, beer in hand.

“A MONTH?! BUT I WANT HER NOW!” Venom yelled in protest.

Luckily for Eddie, Venom did give him that month, a month exactly. On the exact day that a month had passed Venom forced Eddie to see you and let you both meet.

As Eddie predicted you really were terrified at first but honestly you found Venom to be just as fun and lovely as Eddie. Since that first time you met you had grown close to both the symbiote and Eddie.

Things were going well, you even didn’t mind Venom joining you more on dates and you’ve even had conversations with just Venom. Soon you were even giving Venom good bye cheek kisses and stroking his face. You had to admit you were starting to fall for Venom as your love for Eddie grew. You tried your best to hide this though, not wanting Eddie to think you’re some kind of freak.

You and Eddie had yet to be intimate, Eddie scared that Venom would come out mid-sex and you’d get grossed out. Little did Eddie know was that you wouldn’t mind at all.

Venom would not shut up every time things with Eddie would get more intimate, accidentally cock blocking his friend. Venom wanted you bad and he needed Eddie to know. The things Venom wanted to do to you would bounce around Eddie’s head every time, both arousing and scaring him.

Both you and Eddie had the day off and since it was raining so hard you both decided to have a movie day at Eddie’s place. It didn’t take long before the movie was long forgotten however and you were under him, hand grabbing at his hair, his kisses hot and aggressive on your mouth.

Things were beginning to get more hot and heavy, Eddie’s hand starting to slip under the waist band of your sweat pants, squeezing at your hip. Unfortunately however Eddie jumped back on the couch, keeping a distance from you, this seeming to be too much of a habit then you’d like.

“Eddie, baby what is it?” You ask concerned and honestly a little annoyed as you put your hand on his thigh.

Eddie didn’t react, he just had his hands in his head muttering to himself. You begin to connect the dots.

“Venom why are you bothering Eddie? Do you keep cockblocking him?” You ask, frustrated as you fold your arms over your chest.

Eddie turns to you as Venom begins to come out of his shoulder.

“I am not bothering or cockblocking! I’m just helping Eddie and he’s not listening.” Venom finally replies as his shiny teeth show through with a mischievous grin.

“That is not what you’re doing and you know it!” Eddie argues back.

Knowing that Venom wasn’t just ‘helping Eddie’ during your intimate times does pique your interest and you begin to crawl onto Eddie’s lap. Getting comfortable you grind onto Eddie’s lap a bit, causing him to grown out and grab onto your hips.

Since Eddie and Venom are connected this grinding causes Venom to smile deliciously. Seeing you have both of their attention you wrap a hand around each of them, one going to the back of Eddie’s head and running your hands through his hair, while the other goes to Venom, cupping his face sweetly. You look at both of them for a while until your gaze falls onto Venom.

“Venom, darling, what was it you’ve been saying to Eddie when we’ve been having intimate moments together.” You ask seductively, almost purring as you bite your lip and begin to grind on Eddie’s lap again, your eyes never leaving Venoms giant white orbs.

“Mmmhh. I’ve been telling Eddie that he needs to be more rough with you! He needs to show his passion!” Venom replied, excited to be able to speak for himself and honestly a little turned on.

“No, no, no. You yelling in my head ‘fuck her!’ ‘Rip her clothes off!’ ‘Pull her hair!’ ‘Bite her!’ Is not helping me or helping me show my passion!” Eddie butted in defending himself.

He quickly looked at you worried when your grinding stopped but your grip on his hair tightened. He expected you to be freaked out and disgusted at this but instead your face was getting closer to Venom and your eyes were lighting up.

“It seems as per usual I was right, she does like it, she wants us to fuck her!” Venom said to Eddie in a cocky voice, taking the victory and shoving it in Eddie’s face.

“Baby, you’re not freaked out or anything?” Eddie asks you, voice laced some how with both worry and excitement.

Turning to Eddie you licked your lips and tugged his hair back until his head hit the back of the couch, a devilish smile now on your face.

“Eddie, baby, Venom was telling you to fuck me and you wouldn’t do it, I’m hurt.” You tell Eddie, pouting dramatically and fluttering your lashes.

“Well.. I-I mean I ddd-doo want to fuck you its it’s just that… umm. Venom was saying he wanted to fuck you too and it was distracting!” Eddie shouts at the symbiote, trying to get him in trouble and not fully knowing what to say. This was not what he expected to happen so truth be told he was both really horny and really confused.

With this your eyes widened in excitement as you looked to both of them, eyes finally landing on Eddie. Your devilish smirk now returning.

“Mmmmhh, so the thought of Venom fucking me distracted you, Eddie? Do you often get distracted thinking about what Venom could do to me? Do you like thinking of me like that? Thinking about what I must look like all fucked out. Sweating, screaming, convulsing with pleasure. Do you think about what sounds I’d make?” You taunt him, now grinding into him so hard that your boobs are starting to bounce and you can feel his cock becoming harder and harder under you.

“Or maybe you worry, my darling. Worry that Venom might hurt me, that he might take it far and fuck me too hard that I might get hurt. Is that it baby?” You ask him, now slowing down your thrusts and stroking with his face with both hands on each cheek.

“Well yeh, to both of them.. I mean I want you and so does Venom… and I wonder how you’d be when we fuck you… but also what if you get hurt?” He tells you, voice now becoming more quiet, almost as if he were ashamed.

“I would not hurt her! I just want to fuck her! She’s so delicious and it would be so fun.” Venom interjects, ruining Eddie’s sweet worries.

Getting so worked up from your little taunts, Venoms black inky form begins to take over Eddie’s left hand as he uses it go grab onto your ass, causing you to jump slightly in surprise.

“Venom!” Eddie scolds

“Oh come on, Eddie! She loves it, she wants us, look how desperate and delicious she is.” Venom replies to his friend, his grip on your ass now tighter, his face now closer and his tongue coming out to lick on your neck.

“Is this what you want, baby? You want Venom to fuck you?” Eddie asks, his cock even harder now as he sees his symbiote and his girl about to makeout.

“Fuck yes.” You breathe out as Venom begins to lick over your neck and down to the top of boobs that your tank top isn’t hiding.

Before you get too carried away and before Venom has the chance to take over however you lightly push Venom away and look into Eddie’s eyes.

“I want you Eddie and I want Venom, I love you both and I want both of you to fuck me.” You tell your now sweating and over excited boyfriend.

“Venom, baby, could you go back in Eddie please? I’d like to have time just Eddie and i and then we can have some fun. You be good and don’t talk, just watch us and feel the pleasure I give to Eddie and I promise I’ll scream extra loud for you.” You encourage Venom enticingly as you began to stroke along his inky jaw.

“Okay, you delicious human, but when it’s my turn you won’t have to force a scream, I’ll just make you.” He told you enticingly as his inky form went back into Eddie.

“Are you sure about this, y/n. I mean I want you, im just worried.” Eddie asks you, looking into your eyes nervously as both of his hands now rest on your ass cheeks.

“I’m going to say this plain and simple so you know what I mean. I want to and im going to ride you on this couch right now and im going to love how you feel inside of me and the noises I’ll get you to make, I’ll also love knowing that Venom will be able to feel and see every second of it. Then we’re gonna go to the bedroom and Venom is gonna fuck me, preferably hard and preferably from behind and im going to love that knowing he can make me scream and knowing that you’ll see and hear every minute of it. I want both of you and I love both of you, I trust you and I know Venom won’t hurt me. I also know you’ll be there in case things do get a bit out of hand. Please let me have both of you, Eddie.” You tell your very sweet and now very horny boyfriend as you begin to kiss and nip at his neck, already drawing out those beautiful breathy sounds you’ve been dying to hear.

“Okay, okay, th- aaa-hh- that- gah- sounds good.” He manages to moan out as your nips turn into bites, now stroking his cock through his sweats.

With his confirmation and approval you make quick work of stripping down completely naked. Quickly you run to your bag and grab a condom that you had been keeping on you for cases such as these. Jumping back on Eddie’s lap you help him take off his shirt and get out of his pants.

“Fuck, you are absolutely gorgeous.” Eddie tells you, his accent now very thick and husky as his hands begin to grope at your breasts, hips, waist, ass and pretty much any other skin he can grab at.

“You’re not so bad yourself. You ready to fill me up, Eddie? Let me ride you and I can make you feel so good.” You flirt as you begin to roll the condom onto his impressive sized cock, now rubbing his head at the entrance of your warm and soaking wet pussy.

It only took a sweet little nod from Eddie for you to slam your hips down, both of you letting out loud simultaneous moans. Your hands suddenly flung to his shoulder and the back of his head, pulling hard on his short hair.

His hands flung to your hips, squeezing them tight as he met your thrusts, fucking into you hard and fast. You rode him as hard as you could, the pleasure coursing through you being long over due.

God he stretched you out so good, you couldn’t help but lean your head and chest all the way back, using your grip on his neck for leverage. Eddie saw this new position as a perfect chance to take one of your nipples into his mouth as one of his hand went to your other breasts groping them.

One thing Eddie and Venom had in common was that they both wanted to grab at you. Venoms deep moan rang in Eddie’s head, spurring him on to fuck into you hard and grab at you more roughly.

Suddenly you pushed him to sit back into the couch, forcing his mouth to leave your nipple. Both hands dug into his hair as you attacked his mouth in a hot kiss. Clawing at each other, tongues and teeth passionately going at each other.

Feeling yourself getting closer you push Eddie’s face into your neck as you begin to ride him harder and harder. His teeth nipping into your skin as one of your hands holds the back of the couch and your other reaches between the both of you rubbing your clit.

“Oh god, Eddie I’m so fucking close. You’re fucking me so good.” You moan and whine into his ear, feeling that familiar tingle across your body and the pressure build up inside you.

“Mmhhmm, fuck baby I’m gonna cum. You feel so fucking good. God your pussy grabs my dick so fucking tight. Aaa-h! Come on, baby, cum for me, cum on my cock.” He growls into your ear, fucking into you hard as his grip on your ass tightens.

As if by command your pussy clenches around his cock and your heads thrown back with a load screaming moan as the pressure builds inside you and cum all over his cock. Your tight pussy clenching around him was all Eddie needed as he holds onto you as tight as he can, growling into your ear as his orgasm follows soon after.

You’re both holding onto each other panting and placing sweet kisses onto each others skin that you can reach. You don’t get much time to rest however as Eddie’s body is taken over by the black inky aliens form. As soon as he’s fully taken over he quickly pulls you off his lap and onto your feet. Flipping you around so your back is roughly shoved up against his inky front, his clawed hands wrapping around your centre.

“My turn, sweet thing.” He whispers deeply, voice dripping with dominance as his large tongue comes out and licks from your ear, down your neck and all the way over your tit and nipple, making you shudder from pure arousal.

“Go to the bedroom and wait for me on the bed. You wanted me to fuck you from behind. Go ahead and wait for me with your tasty ass up in the air for me.” He says quickly letting you go and pushing you forward with a nice smack to your ass.

You ran to the bedroom with a giggle as fast as you can, pretty much diving onto the mattress. You push your head comfortably on the pillows, pushing your ass back and spreading your knees nice and wide, making sure they had a nice view of your ass and pussy.

Despite Venom being so large you didn’t hear him approach, you only knew he was there when one of his large hands grab at your ass, big inky fingers stroking through your pussy.

You jump at the sudden feeling of the aliens colossal hand on you. You let let at out a moan and push back even further as Venom positions himself behind you.

“You look absolutely delicious but I wonder how delicious you taste.” The large alien groaned to you, moaning as his large tongue made its way to your pussy, licking and lapping you up several times, leaving you shaking and groaning.

“Mmmhh, sweet thing. I know you wanted me to fuck you and I will but I need to taste you properly before I can fuck you, my little pet.” Venoms giant hands squeezing at your hips and waists. His hands were so large they covered from just under your breasts all the way to the middle of your ass cheeks.

“I taste yummy, Vee?” You ask him, feigning innocence as you wiggle your ass against him.

Your acting causing him to chuckle and earning you a slap to your ass.

“That’s what I said, sweet girl. Now let me eat you up. Not literally, Eddie.” Venom says causing you to giggle.

He quickly flips you over and puts your comparative tiny legs over his giant shoulders.

“Eddie worries about you, he think I’ll hurt you, pet. I think you’d like that. You’re a little tasty slut and you want me to throw you around, be too tough.” He teases you as tendrils begin to come out of his inky form and begin to pinch and squeeze are your nipples, making you moan out to him.

“Yes, Vee, I’m your slut, baby. Please taste how sweet I am and fuck me, hard and rough.” You tell him sweetly, digging your heels into his massive shoulders and grinding into the air between you and him.

He chuckled as his massive tongue comes out and gives your pussy a nice big lick. Using is big wet tongue he ate you up like the delicious treat you are. Paying extra close attention to your clit as his tongue lapped you up, making your head spin with pleasure and delight.

After an eternity of pleasure his tongue now entered your pussy, pushing and licking at that spot inside you that made your toes curl and your head spin. He used more inky tendrils to play with your clit as he began to fuck your with his tongue. You could feel yourself reaching your second orgasm of the evening.

You scream out in ecstasy as the pleasure became too much for you and you came hard, squirting all over Venoms face.

Venom quickly came up from between your legs with a happy growl. He used his massive hand to quickly pin your small arms above your head. Growling again he pushed his big tongue down your throat, making you suck on it and moan out, this almost being his way of making out with you. It felt like the hottest make out session you’d ever had mixed with deepthroating a huge cock.

As his massive tongue pumped in and out of you, it’s hard thrusts pinning your head down. You could feel his large veiny cock between your legs push through your pussy. While he pushed in quite slowly, it still felt a little too much.

Sensing your discomfort he removed his tongue from your mouth, leaving your breath heavy and your head dizzy. Knowing you’d most likely want to touch him he also released your arms from above your head. Once they were released you place them gently on his big shoulders

“Come on, my sweet little snack, you can take my cock. I know you wanted to be fucked from behind but I can’t help but love being able to see you, your sweet delicious face. Now come on, sweet thing, take my cock.” He gently begins to enter you as his inky tendrils come out again, wrapping around your nipples and clit. The pleasure from this tendrils pinching, squeezing and massaging you was enough to distract you until the pain between your legs turned into a great pleasure.

It didn’t take long until he’d hoisted your legs up on his massive shoulders, thighs reaching almost to your shoulders as he thrusted into you, hard, fast and powerfully.

“There you go, sweet thing. Taking my cock! I’ve wanted to fuck you like this since the day Eddie and I saw you. God you make us feel so good. Eddie’s in here too and he loves how you feel, sweet thing.” He growled right next to your ear, giant tongue coming out.

“Venom im gonna cum! Aaaahh! Fuck your cocks gonna split me in half.” You loudly whined out as he continued to fuck into you harder and faster.

It was only a few more hard strokes before a loud scream was ripped from you and pleasure exploded within you. You’re eyes rolled back as your whole body began to shake and you were gone.

By the time you came to it was Eddie who was holding you, engulfed in his big safe arms. Your head still dizzy and dumb from the pleasure your large alien had ripped from you.

“There you are, darling.” Eddie said to you softly as you slowly raised your head and he began to stroke your hair.

“You both fucked me good.” Was all you managed to say dumbly as you gently stroke his chest hair.

“Yeh, we did darling.” He lightly chuckled to as he stroked your body.

“You just go to sleep, sweet thing.” Venom said as he appeared through Eddie’s face.

You lightly smiled as you slowly drifted off.

#venom #venom imagine #venom x reader #Eddie brock #Eddie brock imagine #Eddie brock x reader #marvel #marvel imagine

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bluegiragi · 9 months ago

Note

I hate to ask this cause it feels stupid but I dont wanna do a bunch of research on whatever the recent cod mw fandom discourse is,

but I saw the reblog of someone accusing you of supporting people who write sexualized pedophilia and that really is personally my only """"moral"""" with nsfw shit, (I'm a patreon subscriber and ig I just wanna know where my money's going) is THAT true?

i used to follow an artist who, 5-6 months ago made racist art featuring gaz and soap in a slave context, which I didn't like, retweet or interact with in any way. they also made under-age art of ghost soap, which I also didn't interact with . people on twitter called me out yesterday, for retweeting (months before this incident) other art they'd made as evidence I stood by/encouraged/was an avid fan of all these tropes. The art I retweeted wasn't either of these previous examples of art, but one where ghost and soap were sleeping in a bed together, as adults, peacefully. I can't emphasise enough that I have not interacted with this artist at all, for over six months. The callout in question has framed me as a close friend of theirs when, in truth, our total timeline of interactions could probably be counted on one hand, and I haven't interacted with her in so long that I genuinely forgot I was still following her.

The crux of all is this is that I did not unfollow + block this artist earlier on when the racist art was posted months ago, and then I retweeted a fic tagged with "non-con" (ghost gets soap off in a context where he can't really properly consent, they're in front of a crowd of strangers and they have to fuck, but both parties are into each other) written by a friend as I wanted to support their writing.

The pedophile claims are because I retweeted a fandom bingo post that defended loli-con without reading all the squares properly, and then immediately un-retweeted it when I properly read it. All in all, the post was on my account for maybe a few minutes.

The zoophile claims are because people say i support someone who wrote zoophilic fic and called people slurs, and I genuinely don't know who they're talking about there.

The anti-asian racism claims come from the original accusers in the callout thread thinking that I made Horangi's eyes in the monster!AU sensitive as a way of making fun of Asian eyes. The real reason is because he's a cat hybrid in that AU and cats are sensitive to light.

I tried addressing all this in a casual way earlier on in a misguided attempt to sort things out more 'civilly', and responded to an ask talking about my "support" for the artist who drew the slave Gaz art by saying the fanart in question was tone deaf and in poor taste. It wasn't enough for some people, so I'm happy to say it clearly- yes, it was racist, and the reason why I didn't want to be more aggressive is because I didn't want to extend all this mess by throwing this artist directly to the wolves - I genuinely believed them at the time when they said that wasn't that their intention, and think they should've deleted the post at the time, but not unfollowing was a decision that I made. I know now upon reflection that it was naive of me, unwarranted and frankly irresponsible to take a stranger at face value and believe they had good intentions, when the act of not deleting the post in question was evidence of a lack in remorse. In the moment, I'd thought back to my own personal experience with a friend of mine who used an asian slur in my company, who later sincerely apologised and legitimately cleaned up his act after I gave him a second chance. It informed my choice to not unfollow at the time, but there's a difference between someone you know irl for months and a stranger on the internet you've interacted with a few times. I shouldn't have coddled them in my response, and I'm sorry for not treating it with the severity it deserved. It was callous, and stupid, and indicative of internal biases that I ever thought it was a light enough offence to "see through", and I deeply deeply apologise. I promise from the bottom of my heart to do better.

That's everything so far. I didn't unfollow an artist when I absolutely should've, which i'll always strongly regret. I also retweeted a properly-tagged fic on my clearly 18+ nsfw account. I've undone both of those actions now. I hope this can be the end of it.

#there. the entire sequence of events

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revelboo · 2 months ago

Note

Seeing you in my notifs is always always a treat, I love the stories you've weaved together, seriously. Do you think you'd write a solo skywarp x reader fic by any chance?

Thanks and sure!

Stop Talking

IDW Skywarp x Reader

• Energy crackling through him until his spark is humming with it, until it almost hurts before he lets go to warp to the limit of his line of sight. Wobbling slightly as he reappears there’s always an exhilarating moment of fear between winking out of existence and coming back, of feeling his spark faltering at the strain. Almost going out completely before he’s back, systems humming with something that’s not quite anxiety. Far below, the countryside is a boring green smear sliced up by winding ribbons of asphalt. The warping, the view, none of it’s enough to fully distract him from the fact that now Thundercracker doesn’t even want to fly with him. Star’s been distant for a while now, long before taking the human, but Thundercracker? He’s always fawning over his new pet. And he can’t really get the fascination with something so small and weak. Both of his brothers seem happy, though. No time for him since they’re so focused on their pets. So maybe it’s time he found out why.

• Stretching out, arms lifting above your head to soak up the sun. Headphones blaring rock and roll, you’re dimly aware of a heavy rhythmic thumping. It’s only the shadow suddenly falling across you that makes you lift your head. And then crane your neck even higher, mouth falling open. Unable to fully comprehend what you’re looking at. Because it looks like some of the giant robot nonsense your kid brother is so obsessed with and you’ve apparently gotten way too much sun. Wondering if heat stroke can make you hallucinate as the thing crouches down to stare at you and then grins. “You’ll do,” it growls reaching for you and that shatters the disbelief freezing you. Because nope. Everything about this whole situation. Lunging, you grab one of your sneakers and chuck it at the monster, rolling to your feet and running without even checking to see if it lands.

• Laughing despite himself at your pitiful little attack and attempt to escape, he makes a grab for you, tips of his servos brushing your hip and then you’re pinwheeling your arms and falling sideways into the rectangular pool of water you were laying beside. It’s easy enough to scoop you out as you sputter and slap at his servos. Apparently, this one is half feral, struggling and squirming as he examines it. “You’re going to be fun, aren’t you?” From the nearby building, the front door is opening and he leaps up, turbines roaring and focuses. You’re screaming in his grip as he pictures the base, energy twisting over and through him, and he warps.

• You’re limp in his servos when he reappears just outside the hidden base, startling Vortex who’s supposed to be on guard duty, but appears to be working his way through a bottle of high grade. One of several if the pile the mech tries to nudge out of sight with a ped is any indication. “That a human?” The Combaticon asks, reaching as if to grab you and Skywarp’s wings flick up aggressively. Venting at him, Vortex relents. “Don’t want it, anyway. They’re weird.”

• Striding past, his optics flick to you, servos shifting until he finds the steady beat of your heart to make sure the warp didn’t kill you since he wasn’t sure what it would do to an organic. And how can he unravel what the big deal is if you die so soon? Venting, he carries you to his quarters wondering how hard a human is to care for. Surely it can’t be that bad.

#transformers x reader #skywarp x reader #idw skywarp

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peachhcs · 13 days ago

Text

through the years with them

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

quinn, jack, and grace have always been in charge of luke, samy, and will growing up. whether it's in toronto, michigan, or massachusetts, it was always 3v3.

wc: 3.9k

happy new year everyone!!! wishing you all a beautiful and safe and happy 2025🩷 after writing flashbacks in my christmas fic, i was inspired to write more memories between the hughes-smith siblings growing up all together

au masterlist

WINTER OF 2011

it was the first real snowfall of winter which meant all the kids raced outside to play in the fluffy powder. ellen and colleen worked to bundle up all of their kids to make sure no one got frost bite while also lecturing at quinn to make sure everyone kept their hats and gloves on even if they didn't want to.

"yeah, mom. i know," the twelve year old rolled his eyes watching his little sister struggle to zip her coat before he went over to help her with it. samy grinned. "thanks q," she mumbled and grabbed her hat from ellen.

"you guys are all in charge of the little ones, okay? make sure they behave and if you go on the ice, be careful," it was all stuff the three older ones heard before.

"yeah, mom, don't worry. we'll keep the monsters in line," jack grinned and ruffled up luke's curly blonde hair. the younger boy swatted his hand away. "don't do that."

once everyone was bundled up, the kids were set loose into the hughes' backyard. toronto winters were a lot colder compared to boston winters, so will and grace weren't used to such frigid temperatures when they got outside. luke made a break for the rink as usual, so jack followed after him. will followed after them which meant quinn had to follow them too. grace helped samy through the piles of snow, always wanting to follow her brothers and do what they were doing.

"i wanna shoot," luke said, grabbing his stick from the fence. he just got on with his boots because he slid just as easily as he would on skates.

"let's do a game," jack suggested since that was something all six of them could do.

"no, last time we did it with all six of us someone got hurt," quinn immediately shot down the idea being the older brother he was. he was not about to take the fall again if someone got hurt because last time, moose nearly broke his arm and quinn got blamed for it when it wasn't even his fault, moose was just clumsy.

"come on, q. we'll be careful. we can't even go that hard with six year olds with us," jack looked over at will and samy.

"i heard that!" her little voice said and the middle hughes just shrugged.

"fine but if someone gets hurt, it's not my fault," the oldest hughes finally gave in and grabbed his stick. they split the teams so each of them had a fair advantage which meant quinn and jack were on opposite teams. quinn took his little sister and grace, who actually wasn't half bad considering she didn't even play. jack had luke and will, confident in their abilities to take down quinn's team filled with all girls.

the kids slid across the ice in their boots, occasionally falling down because they couldn't stop as easily, but it was still fun nonetheless. there wasn't a time those kids weren't out on the homemade rink their parents built for them. it was definitely a huge attraction whenever friends came over.

jack tried crowding quinn. the older boy passed over to grace who successfully skated passed luke and put it into the back of the net. she lifted her arms in victory.

"nice! we're up 2," quinn smiled, the two high fiveing as he slid by. jack let out a frustrated groan.

they set back up and went again. luke started getting a bit more aggressive as he tried pushing past the girls this time. he was very determined to score at least one goal.

"moose, eyes up or you're gonna hit someone not looking," quinn called as he watched his little brother run across the ice.

"my eyes are up!" luke yelled back, but as soon as he said that, he lifted his stick to take a swing at the puck that samy had. unfortunately, luke's eyes were not up and his stick flew right into samy's chin.

the girl fell over and tears immediately pooled in her eyes. the others' eyes widened as grace and quinn raced over to her. "oh shoot. shoot. she's bleeding," quinn panicked and cupped her chin where the blood dripped onto his glove.

"we need to get her back inside," grace said and the two helped the girl up.

jack, luke, and will stood there in shock as the blood dripped everywhere from the rink to the snow as grace and quinn rushed her back inside.

"come on," jack mumbled and pulled the other two back up to the house.

"am i gonna get in trouble?" now luke was crying because he didn't wanna get in trouble.

"mom!" quinn yelled as soon as they were inside. the urgency in his voice made ellen come running from the kitchen where her eyes widened seeing so much blood on both of her kids.

"what happened? is she okay?" samy was still crying as ellen grabbed her from quinn's arms.

"moose accidentally hit her with his stick," quinn explained as jack came in with luke and will.

"she's bleeding so much. jim! jim, get in here," ellen called and then colleen, bill, and jim were rushing into the foyer where the kids watched the scene unfold.

"i'll get her a cloth," colleen said.

"we should take her to the emergency room," jim said as he inspected the deep incision.

ellen and jim rushed around to get their coats on while quinn finally went to a still crying luke. "hey, it was an accident. it's not your fault," he tried shushing the younger boy.

"i didn't mean to hit her. is she gonna die?" the second youngest cried.

"no, she's not gonna die, moosey, don't worry. she'll be okay. mom and dad are gonna take her to the emergency room where they'll make her better," quinn reassured.

"we'll be back, kids, colleen and bill are gonna watch you," ellen said to her kids before her and jim hurried out the door with samy.

"it's okay, luke. it's not your fault, okay?" colleen came to comfort the boy too. she swept him into a hug where he cried into her shoulder.

"why don't you guys find something to do in the meantime? i'll let you know what your mom says," she said and the others nodded. quinn led them to the basement where jack immediately turned on the ps3.

"she'll probably just need some stitches and she'll be fine. it's like when i needed stitches in my finger after accidentally cutting it with a knife," jack shrugged, always the calm one in these situations.

"you were really lucky you didn't lose a finger," quinn mumbled.

"it didn't look that deep, so i'm sure she'll be fine. she'll be in high spirits once she gets back," grace said.

"i knew we shouldn't have played," the oldest hughes was still mad because he literally said something like this would happen and they still played anyway.

"are you blaming me now? it's not my fault. i wasn't even going that hard. luke was the one not looking," jack quickly shot back hearing his brother's words.

"you're the one who suggested playing. i didn't even wanna play!" now the brothers were arguing and grace quickly mediated.

"it's no one's fault, okay? no one's mad and no one's blaming anyone. just a freak accident," she said firmly which made the older boys finally ease off one another.

almost two hours passed when ellen and jim returned. they hurried upstairs to greet them where samy now had a large bandaid across her chin, but at least she was smiling.

"tell them how brave you were," ellen smiled as she helped get her coat off.

"i was super brave and i got candy after!" samy exclaimed and proudly showed her brothers the bandage. luke was hiding behind colleen's leg still feeling guilty about the whole thing.

"hey, now you'll have a wicked scar and you can tell people you fought a bear or something!" jack exclaimed making the others laugh. samy saw luke hiding and went over to him where he nervously stepped back afraid he would hurt her again.

"i'm okay, moosey, see?" the brunette showed her brother her bandaid proving she was okay. luke stared at her for a moment before pulling her into a hug.

"i'm sorry i hit you. i'm glad you're okay," he said.

"it's okay. i forgive you," samy said and the parents smiled watching the two make up.

"now remind me that you guys aren't allowed on the rink unless we're out there with you," ellen squeezed quinn's chin who flushed.

"right," the older boy mumbled.

SUMMER OF 2014

"oh, why are you so dressed up?" jack teased as quinn raced by everyone sitting down in the basement trying to stay somewhat cool. the past week had been boiling and after doing all of the outdoor activities that could keep them cool, everyone was now inside in the air conditioning attempting to stop sweating so much. jack watched his older brother run by looking rather nice for the late afternoon.

"none of your business," quinn mumbled as he stopped in the mirror to look himself over, fixing his hair.

"he's got a date!" samy exclaimed after eavesdropping on her brother's phone call the other day. everyone's eyes widened while quinn quickly glared at his sister.

"a date? no way," jack mumbled, sitting up more so he could watch his brother.

"is it with that girl you were flirting with at the bonfire the other night?" grace chirped making the middle hughes quickly snicker. now that they were getting older, the parents were finally letting the older three go out more with the neighborhood kids. there had been a bonfire a few days ago someone was hosting that quinn, jack, and grace attended.

"oooh, i knew you had eyes on her!" jack exclaimed making quinn's blush even worse.

"do you guys ever mind your business? especially you, samy. i thought we talked about eavesdropping on other people," the older boy mumbled in annoyance. the youngest hughes had been having a really big problem with eavesdropping lately and she was entering her tattletale phase that quinn dreaded because he already dealt with it three times.

"you were talking loud. what was i supposed to do? not listen?" samy shrugged.

"yes, not listen," quinn said.

"it's gonna be fine, don't worry. she seemed to really like you," grace hummed as she got up to help the dark-haired boy with the last of his buttons in his haste to fix his hair.

"you think so?" quinn wondered feeling some self doubt in himself. he'd never really been on a date before, but he did know that he had to pay for her things and hold the doors open for her and possibly hold her hand if that's what she wanted.

"i know so because she even asked me about you when you guys were done talking. i said you're a really cool hockey player and one of the best big "brothers" i have," grace's words brought a smile to quinn's lips hearing her say that. a bit of relief flooded his system.

"thanks, gg," the boy smiled down at her as she finished his last buttons.

"looking spiffy. hope you guys kiss tonight!" jack exclaimed making the other littles chuckle.

"shut up," quinn rolled his eyes and looked at himself one more time.

"when are we gonna be old enough to go to bonfires?" luke complained, his face in his hands.

"when you're twelve," jack said with a snicker, always boasting about his privileges that he had that his younger siblings didn't.

"so next year!" luke exclaimed with excitement.

"aw wait, that means you're leaving me with will," samy made the realization and the younger blonde made a face.

"hey, rude," will rolled his eyes.

"maybe that means you guys will finally get along if you spend some time together," jack mumbled and slid back into the couch to continue gaming.

"whatever," samy mumbled and rolled her eyes. she definitely took after jack's sassy attitude.

they all wished quinn goodbye as he rushed out of the house a few minutes later. while we was gone, grace and samy decided to bake cookies while the boys stayed downstairs playing on the wii. the oldest hughes didn't return until a few hours later where a very lovestruck expression sat on his features.

"so? how'd it go?" jack exclaimed when caught sight of his brother.

"did you kiss??" luke added.

"oh they definitely kissed," jack commented when he saw quinn's rosy cheeks.

"it was great. she was really nice and we're gonna try and hang out again before summer ends," the older boy explained briefly.

"ooh, someone's in loveeee. quinn and rachel sitting in a tree. k-i-s-s-i-n-g. first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage," the youngest hughes brother teased making quinn smack his arm.

"shut up," the boy grumbled. the others just laughed as quinn ran upstairs to hide for the rest of the night and text rachel. being a teenager first meant all of the younger ones had a million and one questions for quinn when it came to dating and just being a teenager in general.

SUMMER OF 2020

samy came down the stairs, her phone in hand and ready to walk out the door when quinn, who caught a glimpse of her outfit, immediately stopped her.

"where are you going?" he crossed his arms and the girl rolled her eyes.

"i'm going out," she shrugged and the vagueness nearly pissed the older boy off. the others caught wind of the conversation and poked their heads out from the kitchen.

"out where dressed like that?" quinn asked again. her shirt was cut low and the skirt she had on was way too short for quinn's liking because he was not letting his baby sister leave the house like that.

ellen, jim, colleen, and bill were gone for the weekend up north for a wedding which meant quinn, jack, and grace reverted back to their roles of being in charge with them gone. quinn was the first one to crack down and the younger brunette huffed as she eyed grace watching the exchange happen a few feet away.

"just out. will and i were invited to this bonfire. i don't know what the big deal is," samy began and tried looking at grace to back her up on this one and get quinn off her back.

"will's not the one dressed like he's gonna get laid," quinn shot back.

"okay, that was a bit much, q," grace finally cut in.

"what? look at her outfit! she's not fooling anyone," the older boy stepped aside so everyone else could take in the youngest girl's outfit choice for the night.

"this is literally what you were doing when you were my age, i don't understand why you're being a brat right now," samy argued back and quinn's gaze snapped back to her.

"you're the one being a brat, not me."

"okay, okay. where are you guys even going? who's bonfire is it?" the older blonde stepped in to mediate like always. she glanced between her brother and samy.

"it's literally two doors down from here. it's a five minute walk," samy said and looked at will who nodded.

"is that tommy's house? me and him used to be close," jack chirped up.

"yeah, his sister is hosting a small thing for people in the area. it's not even gonna be big. there won't be alcohol," samy added and quinn scoffed.

"i've heard that one before because i've used that one before," he mumbled.

"you're not even my dad why are you acting like this? i thought siblings were supposed to like..cover for one another and shit. did turning 21 get to your head?" samy turning fifteen had been rough on everyone. it wasn't that quinn didn't trust her, it was that he didn't trust other people because he lived through all of this already. he just wanted to look out for her so she didn't make the same mistakes he did when he was fifteen.

"someone's moody.." luke muttered under his breath making jack laugh and grace hit his arm to shut up before it set either of them off anymore.

"what if luke goes? will that make it any better?" samy pointed at her brother standing off the the side. the second youngest immediately shook his head.

"no, no don't bring me into this. i don't really wanna hang out with fifteen year olds," luke mumbled.

"ouch," will joked.

"you know what i mean," the curly brunette said.

"what will make it better is if you change your outfit. i don't approve of this," quinn eyed his sister's shirt and skirt again, shaking his head.

"why? this is literally what grace was wearing when she was my age three years ago. it's not even that bad. it's hot out," the older siblings exchanged a glance while they figured out what to do.

"what if we compromise? you're wearing a zip up hoodie with that and you and will are not to leave without one another, got it? you have to come back here together, no excuses," grace finally said and looked at quinn for approval. the older boy rolled his eyes but nodded.

"ugh, fine. whatever," she ran back upstairs to find a hoodie. quinn breathed out a sigh while jack and luke just snickered.

"god, i hate it here," the older boy mumbled and grace reached over to rub his arm with a small chuckle.

"teenagers, am i right?" jack snickered, reaching over to nuzzle his brother's head.

"don't talk to me about teenagers right now," quinn said and they heard samy's footsteps on the stairs again. she came back with a black zip up hoodie over her shirt.

"better?" she asked and quinn finally nodded.

"better. thank you. be safe, be good. don't do something stupid. look after each other. call if you need anything," quinn said to the two as he sent them on their way.

"yeah, we know. bye q, bye guys," samy rushed will out the door before they were stopped again and the oldest hughes blew out a sigh. he glanced at the others who laughed.

"do i remember being 15," jack shook his head slightly and wandered back into the living room.

"what a horrible age," quinn mumbled.

FALL OF 2022

thanksgiving was in michigan this year. the smiths flew over a few days before and while samy was out on a date, the other kids were at home catching up. it was still a bit foreign to have the youngest hughes out on a date the night before thanksgiving, but ellen cut the chirping from her brothers and let her go. while they talked about samy's date and mumbled things about how grown up she was now, will stayed silent.

the idea of samy out on a date bugged him way more than he wanted it do and the feelings he'd been having the past month and a half were confusing him still because on one hand, samy was still his best friend and the girl he grew up with. on the other hand, she was starting to become all the blonde could think about.

luke noticed his friend's quietness first. anytime they talked about kevin will would go silent. they didn't know about the jealousy brewing between the two boys over the youngest hughes nor did will really wanna tell them.

"you're being weird and quiet," luke being luke though always pointed it out. quinn, jack, and grace's gazes snapped over to the younger blonde.

"you okay?" grace asked her brother and he shook her pestering hand away. "yeah, i'm fine," he mumbled.

"i've heard that one before," jack teased a bit.

"what's up? do you not like kevin or something?" luke poked some more and the blonde's face burned.

"you could say that," he mumbled embarrassingly and that made the other siblings raise their eyebrow.

"oh?" they all quickly became curious in what will was thinking, but the blonde didn't wanna explain because explaining meant admitting the possible feelings he felt for samy and he was not about to do that in front of her brothers.

"i just don't really like him. simple," will shrugged and hoped that would get them off his back. he walked away before they could interrogate more too. that made the four exchange a glance at the younger boy's strange behavior.

"what was that about?" jack mumbled when will was out of earshot.

"he's been weird lately. i don't know why," luke shrugged but he didn't know anything more and also never poked to ask more.

quinn, being the observer he was of all of his siblings, had a feeling he knew exactly what was on will's mind. he's seen it before because he's felt it before. being 17 and having obvious feelings for someone was pretty easy to see, at least that's what quinn thought.

later, he found will on the back deck on his phone. quinn approached carefully, "hey," the older boy said. will looked up at him, curious, "hey?"

"your little..whatever earlier..i know how you feel," the older boy sat down beside will for a moment and the blonde's cheeks flushed. he avoided his gaze.

"you do?"

"come on, smitty. i was 17 once too," a small laugh left quinn's lips.

"i don't even know if i like her. it's been..weird these past few weeks," the blonde finally admitted like he was embarrassed even though there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

"you know if anyone was gonna catch feelings between all of us i had a feeling it would be you and samy," the dark-haired boy laughed to himself.

"what does that mean?" will pinched his eyebrows together.

"i don't know. you guys have grown pretty close over the past few years. i remember when you hated one another and then suddenly all you did was hang out together. it's not hard to tell, will," the older hughes poked will's arm and he flushed again.

"oh."

"i also don't like kevin. i'd definitely prefer you if anything did happen.." quinn said with a smirk.

"uh..well i don't even know if samy likes me. she probably doesn't so i wouldn't get your hopes up about that," the blonde said.

"i'm just saying. you never know. things happen. things change. either way, i get how you're feeling and if you ever need to talk about it, i'm here," quinn didn't wanna poke will too much about it so he left it at that as he got back up.

the blonde was left to think about the older boy's words until samy got back home an hour later. he joined her brothers in asking her out the date went to which she said it went fine.

"you guys are annoying," the brunette mumbled as she snacked on some chips.

"we're just nosy, actually," jack snickered to himself.

"yeah, really nosy. i'm gonna change," samy rolled her eyes and disappeared upstairs. will met quinn's glance who winked and the younger boy flushed.

if anything, all the older siblings noticed will's longing looks and eventuall samy's as the year went on, they just chose not to say anything because after years of thinking the other had cooties, it was hard to believe there might've been feelings there.

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