#what is persistence if nothing has knocked you down

[curledupinmyarmchair]

Put that shit back together.

I can feel my spirit breaking

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight

a.n; I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA OKAY? I HAVE HAD IT IN MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A YEAR ALREADY AND I NEED YA'LL TO RANT WITH ME ABOUT THISSSS<3 it's mostly enemies to lovers💕

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

"For the love of–... I'M COMING!"

It's Sunday morning. You have been expecting this day to wake up maybe mid-morning, with the gentle warm breeze coming from your open window; have an exquisite brunch that you have been planning and craving since Friday; maybe watch an episode or two of your favorite show before preparing a full spa day, with a long and refreshing bath included. That's how you have planned your Sunday to go.

But no… Apparently, someone's intention was to ruin the whole day for you while their knocks on your door were persistent and annoying at 6 freaking a.m.

You don't think about what you're wearing before stumbling towards the door, with the loud BANGS still sounding. You think of your poor neighbors next door and their newborn baby.

"This little shit," you protest, completely annoyed with this person knocking on your door like someone has died. "Someone better be dead or else…" You open the door in one strong pull and huff utterly annoyed when you encounter the person behind.

Vermillion eyes collide with yours, the intense hate and annoyance so palpable in the air it almost cuts you both.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He tchs, rolling his eyes at you. The bile travels up through your esophagus, and you want to spit at him.

"Save the greetings, if you know what a decent greeting means… Well, considering how well you just did it, I doubt you fuckin’ know…"

The muscle at your temple twitches so hard, you believe he is actually able to see it. That would explain his upcoming smirk.

"The fuck do you want?" You repeat, not even caring or taking the time to follow this banter with him. You would normally do it, come back at him with a snarky response that would probably hurt his ego and he would answer back making you even angrier, and yada yada, nothing new to this ‘hate x hate’ relationship you had with this man in front of you. But today is not a day you planned on dealing with Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki.

He looks down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting a bit with the buttons on his all-black suit jacket you just now noticed he is wearing. Interesting; he never uses formal suits like this one if it isn't for a Hero Gala, and that was only once a year. Or that one time you remember he had to apologize to citizens through a TV interview with Deku because of a villain attack in Hokkaido they couldn't quite contain on time and caused a lot of material damage. You shake your head coming back to the present. Pro Hero Dynamight, a.k.a. Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki is standing right at your door, looking a bit nervous while playing with the buttons of his jacket, furrowing his eyebrows like he is angry even at the air he breathes.

You could have expected anything from this unpredictable man who infuriated you almost twenty-four hours a day, the seven days of the whole week. However, you were not expecting at all the words that come from his mouth after he looks up again and his eyes lock with yours.

"Fucking marry me."

Your eyes open wide. And the only thing you think of doing is punching him. And you do.

Your hands close in tight fists, and before saying anything, you punch his shoulder as strongly as you can with one. You know for sure your small and useless fist won't do any damage to this hulk of a man, but the meaning behind it it's what matters.

He simply looks at you in disbelief. "Ouch?" He smirks. He fucking smirks at you, and this time you punch his stomach, which does make him grunt and hover a bit in pain.

You attempt to close the door right at his face, but he suddenly pushes it with his hand and makes you waver a bit back, holding yourself on the door handle. He stands straight again, retrieving his hand from the door when he realizes he used more force than intended to prevent you from closing the door.

"I- umm- Shit, sorry, I didn't-..." 

You raise a hand to stop him from talking.

"Just fucking tell me what you want, so I can go back to bed and not see your ugly face for the rest of my day."

You watch in satisfaction how his face contours into full rage. And this time you smirk. 

"I fucking hate you…" He spits, and you bat your lashes at him while smiling.

"Ah, the feeling is mutual, baby."

Bakugou takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and holding himself on the door frame with strength. You're sure his hand shape will print on it, and you get more annoyed –if that's possible, but you have already learned that when Bakugou was involved, the anger was immeasurable– thinking that you will have to hire someone to fix that.

"I fucking hate you," he repeats through his teeth with his eyes still closed, but then he opens them, and his entire face changes into something you never expected to see. He looks at you, begging, "But I need you to marry me."

You look… perplexed. Again, never in your life have you ever come across the thought that those words would ever come from the man in front of you, much less towards you.

You open your mouth to say something, but the neighbor from the apartment in front of yours opens his door, standing there with his arms crossed and looking menacingly.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" His deep baritone voice asks. Bakugou turns his head and when he sees him, stands straight, head held high and you can imagine the type of defying expression on his face.

You roll your eyes. Men.

"Yes, Arisu, everything is fine. He's… a… friend," the word stung your tongue because you couldn't consider Bakugou that, even though you shared the same group of friends. But it wouldn't have been good having these two fight over something you still didn't understand what was happening; the thought of who of these two hulk men would win still was entertaining to think about. Your money was on Arisu, of course.

"Alrigh’," Arisu says, looking at Bakugou up and down before retrieving himself back into his apartment.

"The fuck this fucking extra-..." You stop Bakugou from turning and going towards Arisu by holding his arm and pulling him towards you.

"Stop it. Come inside," you demand, pulling him as he watches your hand around his bicep, "before any of my neighbors file a complaint against me thanks to your fucking loud mouth."

Bakugou grunts at your words as he lets you pull him inside. When you close the door and turn to him, you realize how big he looks in your small apartment, where there is barely space between the living room and the kitchen and two doors, one leads to your bedroom and the other to the bathroom. You want to laugh at how uncomfortable he looks.

You take a deep breath, scratching your forehead to regain a bit of patience –which was non-existent whenever Bakugou was around.

"Okay, now, explain to me what the hell is wrong with you."

"Nothing is wrong with me. More like what's wrong with you and this small thing you call apartment… When did you-..."

"Bakugou! I didn't invite you in for you to start insulting my living space!" You say more exasperated by every second he is in there. "Tell me what the hell happened to you! Why did you come here, almost tearing down the door of my place at 6 in the fucking morning, annoying even my neighbors, and then you fucking propose out of nowhere!"

His lips are held in a tight line as he watches you almost yell at him, hands opening and closing anxiously. There is silence for a couple of minutes before he says, "My father died."

You gasp, taking a step back. Wow. That's something you were not expecting at all. You get now why the black suit. And now that you look at him better, his eyes look glassy and reddish –probably thanks to how much he's holding himself back from showing any other emotion that isn't anger. And that's… sad.

Your arms immediately hug yourself, one hand settling over your chest. "I- I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," he turns a bit to the left, facing the kitchen to avoid looking at you. "Fucker was a right pain in the ass."

You choke on the laugh that almost escapes you at his words, and after you clear your throat you murmur, "Sorry." He looks at you a bit amused, the right corner of his mouth lifted a bit at your reaction.

You sigh again after a few seconds of silence, "Bakugou, what does that have to do with you asking me to-...”

"My great-grandparents are-were the funders and CEOs of TCA Technologies Corp.," your eyes open wide at the name of the prestigious company that had been ground-breaking in the creation and use of robots, before being the number one seller of technology materials to support heroes. They were high class in society, civilians and heroes. "Yeah, that's the face every extra makes," he smirks when you stick your tongue out at him.

He then looks at you up and down and immediately looks away, clearing his throat in a clear gesture of shyness. You frown confused.

"Fucking go put some clothes on."

That's when you remember you had no pants, no bra, and an old shirt that barely covered your panties. Fuck. You almost run towards your room to get changed. All of this had to be a dream… or a nightmare.

Your Sunday was entirely ruined. You know that for sure.

After you change to decent, more covered clothing, leggings and a big shirt that almost reached your knees –it is Sunday, dammit, and the hell you are gonna dress up for Bakugou Katsuki– you walk again towards the living room where you left said asshole waiting for you there. He is now sitting on your couch, his suit jacket lying over the back of it. His elbows are resting over his knees, his hands holding his head. You have never encountered a tired Bakugou, yet here he is. Looking beaten and down.

He looks up at you when he hears you approach him; his eyes are more reddish than before, kind of like when you want to cry but don't let yourself do it. That made you feel bad for thinking about him as an asshole.

"What took you so long, short-legs? Whatever you wear, you'll still stink and look ugly on it."

Nope. He is and will always be a stupid asshole.

You roll your eyes grunting as you let yourself fall on the couch, as far away from him as you can on that three-people couch, crossing your legs under you.

"Spit it out, asshole. What's all this about?"

He sighs, "My father inherited it all after my grandfather died. His whole life had been that stupid company, his and my mother's. I don't give a fuck about it, but the old hack insists that I- ow!"

You pinch him on the shoulder this time, knowing very well that if you had punched him he wouldn't have felt anything. But pinching… he did feel that.

"What the fuck was that for?!"

"Don't call your mom like that, idiot!"

"Fucking piss off, you know shit! The old hack is an old hack, she deserves the title."

You shake your head in disagreement but decide to leave that topic there considering how affected he looks by it.

"The old hack said," he simply repeats that to spite you, and you really want to punch him, "that I need to step up and be fucking CEO of that bullshit, or…"

He looks at you, and you gulp, kind of understanding where this is going.

"Or get married." You finish the sentence, crossing your arms over your chest, "But why? Those two options are completely different from one another."

"The sky will fucking fall the day I understand any-fucking-thing that comes out of her mouth. She's nuts!" He protests, arms exaggerating his words as he opens them wide, evidently showing how much stress he has, before laying back on the couch, head resting over the back of it where his jacket is. He sighs long and deeply before talking again, "My great-grandmother had a strong Quirk, but she decided to stay at home instead of being a Hero. Those were other times, ya'know?"

"I know History of Heroes, Bakugou. I'm not stupid."

He looks at you again, this time genuinely surprised, "I, umm, thought you-..."

"Have you ever thought that despite not having a Quirk, I know about heroes?"

He tchs, "No wonder why you and shitty Deku are such shitty nerds."

You roll your eyes for the eleventh time that morning, "Get to the point, shitty asshole."

Bakugou scoffs, clearly holding back a retort to answer back, then he continues, "I'm the first in generations with a strong, hero-level Quirk. Most of my family had decided to live as civilians, building this stupid company from generation to generation."

"Oh, and you are the first actual Hero in the family. You are the first one to choose differently…"

He nods in response, "It almost gave my grandfather a heart attack. Ever since my Quirk woke up, I knew what I wanted," he looks back at you, and for the first time, you admit to yourself that you're curious of knowing what he wants, what goes through his head, so you nod allowing him to continue, "I want to be a Number One Hero. I want to kick villains' asses as much and as hard as I can for as long as my stupid aging bones allow me to."

The intensity in his eyes and conviction in every word he spoke made you feel his passion. And that was… new.

"But to be that, I can't afford to waste time in falling in love and all that bullshit…"

"Then say no to your mom and the company," you offer as a solution. He snorts letting his head fall back against the couch.

"You know shit…" He shakes his head, "There's a requirement in every hero company, it says that a familiar, or a spouse if the hero is married, has to validate your mental sanity alongside a doctor to keep working as a Hero."

"I… didn't know that."

"Of course not, short-legs. You're not a hero, why would you know?"

"So, if I… If we get married-..." he nods in confirmation even before you say the words. But he says them.

"The old hag won't have to validate my status as Hero anymore, and she won't have anything to hold me back from sending her and the company to hell."

You looked serious at him, "Bakugou, you and I don't like each other. You hate me and I hate you. And you want to put your Hero status in my hands by marrying me?" You say in disbelief, almost anxious about the whole meaning of this. You stand up and walk from one side to the other as you keep talking, "Why? Because your inner kid is in rebellious tantrum mode and does not want to take the responsibility to-..."

"Shut the fuck up! You. Know. Shit!" He also stood up, shortening the distance between you two in the small living room.

"Then tell me! Explain it to me! Cause to me you only sound like a spoiled brat who doesn't want his veggies for lunch."

He looks you right in the eye, hands almost trembling in fists beside his body, and then he drops the bomb.

"My mother killed my grandfather."

You recoil a step back, "What?"

He sighs, hands and fingers running through his hair, clearly uncomfortable, "I-... There is no proof, no solid proof about it. I just- I know it was her." Again, the conviction in his eyes made you believe him. "My mother wanted the money, the luxury life being with my dad could bring her. But my dad had a brother, an older brother."

"Had?"

Bakugou simply shakes his head, "The idiot got himself in between a shooting from two villain groups. He was shot only once, and it killed him. A fucking looser…" 

You try, you really tried not to smile but failed miserably. "You are the idiot," you say fighting back the chuckle.

He smiles back, "No, I got shot several times, I even got thrown at and through walls, and I'm very much fucking alive. I'm no weak ass looser as him."

You can't stop laughing, Bakugou definitely is an idiot.

He waits until you're done laughing before continuing, "Even then, my grandfather didn't think my dad was capable of handling the company and all it meant, so he was thinking about giving it to one of his nephews. That's when, I fuckin’ know, my mother took matters into her own hands. I'm an only child. If I say no…"

"The company has to go to another familiar..." Everything washes clear now in your head, “And your mom won't allow that to happen. So she’ll lie and say you aren’t sane enough to keep working as a hero,” Bakugou keeps nodding, confirming everything you’re saying.

“That way, I’m obligated to work at the company.”

Your hand travels from your forehead and brushes your hair back. “She wouldn’t that… She’s your mom, Bakugou...”

“Haven’t you heard a fucking thing I said? She fucking killed my grandfather so the company was legally inherited by my father! Therefore, she could hold all the rights, all the stupid money! My father was a fucking dimwit who believed every-fucking-thing my mother said. She controlled him as she pleased.”

You gasp as another realization hits you, “That’s why you are an asshole to her…”

“She can fool anyone, but not me.” He declares, standing tall and proud. “I have never played her game, and I fuckin’ never will.”

You hug yourself once more, taking some minutes to assimilate all the confessions he just dropped on you. Everything feels like a script of a freaking movie or something. And there are too many questions you want to ask. But there’s only one thing you mostly don’t understand and you need the answer to.

So you look back at him, head tilting up a bit due to the height difference between you, and ask, “Why me?”

Bakugou does not hesitate in his answer. 

“You’re strong, despite not having a Quirk. And smart. You don’t let anyone dictate what you can or cannot do,” he takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, “You have never backed down from a discussion, with me or anyone else. You don’t let anybody step on you, holding tight to your convictions and beliefs.”

You visibly gulp, feeling a little warmth in your cheeks that makes you want to look elsewhere, but you don't. You hold the connection between your eyes like dear life. And he smiles, the left corner of his mouth raising a bit.

“You have a fuckin’ strong character, you won't even shy down from me,” you suddenly feel the back of his index finger caress the right side of your jaw, where lays an old scar he perfectly recognized.

It was the scar he accidentally left when you were younger, stupider. He had picked a fight with another newbie hero –another asshole in your opinion– who kept talking shit about his other newbie hero friends. Bakugou had snapped when the guy mocked the word “whore” towards you. You have tried to separate them, earning yourself a punch on the right side of your face by this same man that has touched the reminder of that old memory.

“But above all that…” It’s his turn to gulp, eyes going up and down through your face. Is he… Is he looking at your lips? “You are kind. You care about everyone. You always try to solve everything for everyone –that’s fuckin’ annoying actually.”

You open your mouth to swear at him, stupid asshole; but he doesn’t give you time to say anything. “What I’m trying to fuckin’ say is–” he takes a deep breath, “You are… good. A good person. And you… You understand m- us.”

Was he going to say ‘me’? By ‘us’, you know he means heroes.

Your parents had been heroes before they died. Unfortunately, you were born Quirkless, so the dream of following your parents' path was decided the same day you were welcomed into this world. You have already made peace with this idea, it didn’t hurt like it used to when you were young. Despite not having a Quirk, you specialized in Quirk and training analysis, which granted you a job that most Hero Agencies wanted you for. Hence also how now your group of friends involved all heroes.

However, one thing is working with them, working with Bakugou Katsuki, a.k.a. Pro Hero Dynamight, who was the biggest pain in your ass you have ever had since the day you met him. Another completely different is actually marrying the pain in your ass.

You sigh, “I don’t–...”

“What? You want me to fuckin’ beg? ‘Cause I fuckin’ will…” Bakugou takes a step back and literally kneels before you. You protest, grabbing his forearm and pulling him back up, but he doesn’t let you move him even a millimeter. “What do you want? Whatever you want is yours. We can even sign a dam contract if you so want, I don’t fuckin’ care what it is. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“This is not a fucking joke, Bakugou. You are asking me to marry you. What if I have a boyfriend? You didn’t even fucking ask!”

His eyes open wide, surprised. “Do you?”

You roll your eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh. “No! I don’t!”

“Then, what are you bitching about?”

You groan. “I’m bitching about the fact that I don’t know why would you put a whole big deal on me when we hate each other!”

“I trust you.”

It’s a short answer, his expression is even so neutral and sure that leaves you perplexed. Surprised at how easily he said those words.

“We don’t like each other…”

“I don’t need to like you to trust you, idiot.” It feels like he’s mocking you, but one look into his eyes and what he is saying actually feels right. He is completely sure of what he is saying. “I would even fuckin’ trust you with my life.”

He already does. Every day, at work.

Still, you can’t pass the opportunity to piss him off. “Wow. That’s deep, buddy.”

“Fuck you.”

Mission accomplished.

You laugh gently, looking at him still kneeling on the floor of your living room. The sight in itself is a miracle. A sight you won't get to see ever again from this man. But it’s not the image of his kneeling position that makes you take the decision.

It’s his eyes.

They are screaming, desperately begging for you to help him. And, damn it, he is right; you always are at the disposal of everyone when they need your help. Fuck! It is actually very annoying –but you will never admit that out loud, especially not to him.

You close your eyes, head tilting back, and take a long, deep breath.

You are so going to regret this.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Bakugou Katsuki immediately stands up and practically throws himself at you, his whole hulk of a body surrounding you in what you have never thought would ever happen between you two: a hug.

Are you though?

[cherrymoon4]

Suguru hates the taste of curses. He hates the aftertaste that persists in his mouth, that doesn’t leave no matter how hard he brushes his teeth or how much sickening sweet candy Satoru gives him.

Even when hours pass, no matter how many boiling hot showers he takes, nothing takes away the disgusting feeling that swallowing down curse after curse brings.

He has tried everything, every single thing that comes to mind to not have the aftertaste of a vomit soaked rag stuck to him for hours.

But nothing works, he is sure of that, he reminds himself as he leans over the bathroom sink, trying not to throw up after another “successful” mission and another curse swallowed.

As he takes deep breaths, trying to come up with something, anything, that could help him, he hears a knock on the door, followed by your gentle voice asking if he’s okay.

He’s always seen you as one of his closest friends, the one that is there for when he feels like no one can help him; when he knows Shoko is too busy with her own shit, and Satoru could only try to come up with a joke and probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he knows that the one he can always turn to is you.

Soft, sweet little you. Too kind for your own good, with a heart too big for your petite form. So selfless, always worrying over ‘Sugu’ even when he doesn’t deserve it, even when he pushes you away, not wanting to stain your pure self.

Just like right now, as he contemplates whether to let you in or tell you to leave. He pictures your pretty face in his mind, how it probably is adorned with worry and concern, your doe eyes big and glassy.

His heart clenches at the thought of you walking away all sad after he told you to leave. He can’t bring himself to push you away.

So he tells you come in, he just wanted to reassure you after all. But when he sees you coming in and rushing to check him over for any injuries, clad in your fluffy pajamas and fuzzy socks, his mind fills with images of him doing everything but reassuring you.

And that’s how he discovers that there is, in fact, something that can help him out.

He knows that this is all he needs, your pretty cunt in his face is where he belongs.

Your plushy thighs around his head and your sweet juices smeared on his cheeks are just what he needs to forget everything about curses and the awful feeling that they leave him with.

He reprimands you for keeping your heavenly pussy from him all this time; how could you be so selfish :(

He laps at your folds like a starved man, moaning in your cunt like he’s the one getting eaten out. And he’s so messy too! After all, how could he not be when he finally found the perfect treat to solve his problem?

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re such a messy girl mh?” he grunts, like he’s not the one turning his head side to side to smear your juices all over his face.

“This pretty pussy loves me so much, doesn’t she? Gushin’ around my tongue like that, bet it wants me to fill her up too..” he says as he toys with your puffy pussy and swollen clit, looking up to see you all dumb and stupid, babbling something about how it’s “t-too much!”.

But you clearly don’t know what you need, not when your hole keeps getting wetter and wetter.

“It’s not too much, silly girl. You can take it, I know you can. You want your Sugu’ to be happy, don’t you baby? You wanna be my good girl, yeah?”

And how can you deny him? You do want to be his good girl, his best girl!

So you spread your legs wider for him and let him lap at your messy hole, and you don’t even complain when you feel his thick cock prodding at your entrance, stretching your pussy nice and full :3

hello ^^ ( thank you sososo much for the love on the other posts! send me requests if you want :P )

[leona-hawthorne]

LEONA-HAWTHORNE’S FICMAS

december 1st. mattheo riddle.

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary ; being an animagus has its pros… and its cons words ; 1.8k warnings ; fluff, bunny animagus!reader, brother’s best friend!mattheo, illness

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“Damn it. They’re out of stock,” Mattheo muttered, a scowl darkening his sharp features as his gaze swept over the empty display in front of him. The faint hum of activity in Honeydukes buzzed around him, but it was all background noise to his singular mission: finding your favorite treat.

The rich scent of melted caramel and powdered sugar clung to the warm air, but it did nothing to soothe his disappointment. He’d ventured out with Theo, braving the frost-bitten path to Hogsmeade, bundled against the chill of the late December wind, determined to bring a spark of joy to you after a week spent curled up under blankets, your feverish state stealing the light from your eyes.

“She’ll survive, Mattheo,” Theo drawled, arms crossed lazily as he leaned against a wall beside a towering stack of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

Mattheo’s fingers raked through the unruly mess of dark curls that framed his face, eyes narrowing in frustration as he muttered, “She loves Cauldron Cakes too, doesn’t she? Maybe I could grab one of those…” But even as the words left his mouth, doubt clouded his expression. “No, those give her stomach aches.”

“Careful,” Theo’s smirk broke through his stoic demeanor, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “One wrong bite, and she might turn into a rabbit for a week.”

Mattheo’s lips quirked, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk that managed to soften the sharp edges of his expression. The image of you sitting on a pillow, fur fluffy as clouds, with wide, quivering eyes and twitching ears, filled his mind. It was a sight he’d seen a lot more than once, and the thought warmed him more than the heavy wool of his coat. “That would be adorable,” he murmured, more to himself than to Theo.

His gaze drifted back to the shelves, fingers brushing past jars of fizzing whizbees and licorice wands, seeking any trace of the sweets you loved. He knew every preference, every quirk—the way your nose crinkled when you were trying not to laugh, how you always saved the last bite of chocolate for him, even if he pretended not to notice.

Theo’s playful scoff drew him back to the present, breaking the spell. “Right, lover boy, grab what you can so we can move on. The Weasley twins’ shop won’t raid itself.”

Mattheo’s smirk deepened as he reached for a small box tucked at the back of the shelf, its golden wrapping gleaming under the enchanted lights. If he couldn’t find the chocolate frogs, he’d settle for something close enough, something to make your eyes light up when he returned.

The sharp knock at the front door broke through the haze of your lethargy, and you groaned, rolling your eyes at the interruption. Each subsequent rap grew louder and more insistent, a persistent reminder of your brother’s tendency to forget his keys.

With a reluctant sigh, you dragged your aching body off the couch and trudged to the door, your irritation simmering just beneath the surface. When you swung the door open, your expression was a mix of annoyance and fatigue, only to be met by the amused snort of Mattheo, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“I was resting, you asshole,” you snapped, the heat of annoyance still lingering in your voice as you shot a glare at your brother.

“Be grateful I got you to walk around a bit,” he replied, a playful grin spreading across his face as he ruffled your hair affectionately. “Your legs are gonna freeze in place if you lay around any longer.”

You didn’t bother to respond, instead heading back to the couch and flopping down onto your stomach, your focus returning to the flickering images on the screen. The warmth of the blankets cocooned you, a small comfort in your weakened state.

“I got you something, but I’ll only give it to you if you promise to stop being so grumpy,” Mattheo teased, settling beside you, his presence radiating warmth.

Your heart quickened at the thought that he had been thinking of you while out with Theo. Maybe your crush-blinded mind was reading into it too much, but the notion sent a thrill through you. You’d always harbored a secret crush on him, and while you were sure he cared for you, it was a different kind of love—one that you longed to bridge.

“Depends on what it is, Matty,” you replied, attempting to mask the fluttering hope in your chest.

He leaned in slightly, his tone playful. “Well, I got you Fizzing Whizbees because they didn’t have any chocolate frogs, but I’m a little scared they’ll—”

“I’m not gonna change into a bunny,” you interrupted, your voice sharper than intended as you raised a hand in protest. The memory of yesterday flooded back—seven embarrassing transformations triggered by the slightest discomfort had left you feeling humiliated.

“But—”

“Just give it to me,” you cut him off again, rolling your eyes dramatically. Yet, as you snatched the colorful box from his hands, you paused, a genuine smile breaking through your irritation. “Thank you.”

The way you clutched the chocolates tightly in your hands made it clear you had no intention of sharing, and a chuckle escaped Mattheo’s lips. He leaned back, clearly pleased to see a hint of happiness in your tired demeanor.

But the second you popped the first piece into your mouth, a familiar pang of regret bloomed in your stomach, a sensation you had come to dread. It was an all-too-familiar feeling that washed over you with alarming speed.

In an instant, your body transformed, and where you had been, there now sat a tiny, fluffy rabbit, complete with floppy ears and wide, embarrassed eyes.

The boys burst into laughter, their mirth echoing in the cozy living room as you thumped a paw against the floor in frustration.

“I fucking told you! You’re an idiot, Y/N/N,” Mattheo teased, his laughter infectious.

Your tiny heart raced as you glared up at Mattheo, your expressive little eyes narrowing in annoyance. The warmth of the room felt overwhelming now, each laugh echoing like a distant thundering noise. The sensation of soft fabric beneath you—the couch cushions—was comforting, but the sudden wave of self-consciousness washed over you. Here you were, reduced to a fluffy little creature, while the two boys stood there, delighting in your misfortune.

You hopped over to Mattheo, your little teeth nipping at his ankle in a show of defiance.

Mattheo yelped as your teeth grazed his skin, the surprise of the nip sending a jolt through him. He glanced down at you, his smirk widening as he took in the fierce determination in your beady little eyes.

He knelt down, curiosity gleaming in his chocolate brown eyes as he reached out a hand. “Aw, don’t be mad, little bun,” he said, his voice dropping to a hushed, gentle tone that contrasted sharply with the raucous laughter. “You’re adorable like this. You’ve got the perfect little nose.”

He reached out, scooping you up gently in his large hands.

His fingers gently stroked along your soft fur, a soothing motion that seemed to calm your restless spirit. “Maybe we should keep you like this for a while,” he mused, his tone teasing yet tinged with a hint of sincerity. “Might be easier to handle.”

Your small body wriggled within Mattheo's grasp, the soft fur tickling his palms as you squirmed. The warmth of his touch was comforting, yet the confined space felt stifling. With a sudden burst of energy, you leapt from his hands, landing gracefully on the plush cushions of the couch.

The sensation of the cotton beneath your paws was a relief and you found yourself nestling deeper into the folds of the blanket, your small form disappearing into the sea of fabric.

Mattheo chuckled at the sight of you buried under the blankets, only your tiny twitching nose visible above the soft pile. "Huh, looks like someone wants to stay cozy," he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. “But seriously, are you planning on staying like this forever?"

A sudden sneeze shook your tiny frame, causing you to reflexively scrunch up your nose and shut your eyes tight. As the sneeze subsided, a strange sensation washed over you—a tingling, shifting feeling that spread throughout your body.

Your vision blurred for a moment, and then, just as quickly, cleared. When your eyes focused once more, you found yourself no longer a bunny, but rather your human self again, nestled among the blankets. You blinked slowly, taking in your surroundings anew.

Mattheo let out a teasing whistle as he took in the sight of you, now returned to your human form. His eyes roamed appreciatively over your features, lingering on the flushed cheeks and tousled hair. "Well, well," he murmured, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone's feeling a bit warm."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You know, I think you might be even prettier like this." His fingers trailed lightly along your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your cheeks burned at Mattheo's words, and you felt a flutter in your chest as his fingers brushed against your skin. But before you could respond, you caught yourself pushing his hand away, the action both instinctive and deliberate.

"I-I'm cold," you stammered, trying to hide the embarrassment that colored your voice.

Mattheo's chuckle was soft and indulgent as he pulled his hand back, a twinkle in his eye. "No more candy for you, bun," he teased gently, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Maybe some soup will do."

With that, he rose to his feet, towering over you as he made his way to the kitchen. You watched him go, your heart warming at the simple act of care. It wasn't every day that someone looked after you so tenderly, especially not someone as reckless as Mattheo.

As the sounds of pots clanging and liquid simmering drifted from the kitchen, you found yourself smiling, despite the lingering flush on your cheeks. Maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all, if it meant having Mattheo fuss over you like this.

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

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•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

[entitled-fangirl]

Peculiar (P 0.5)

Cregan Stark x seer!Reader

Summary: After a frightening vision, the reader has to make sure Cregan is okay.

Warnings: misinterpreting the Red mf Wedding 😭

A/n: THIS IS A PREQUEL TO THIS! And based on an ask!

Masterlist

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She could cry.

The visions had been getting better. She had been doing better. But suddenly, a horrific sight flooded her mind and she couldn't stop it from happening. 

Stark blood stained the stone floors of a great castle.

"The Lannisters send their regards…" she sniffled. That was all she could remember of it. "The Lannisters…"

She feared what her great lord husband would think when he found out about her… peculiarity. He knew of it only in speech, never seeing it for himself. 

She couldn't let him view what she had become. 

Her handmaiden had told her to keep Cregan at arms distance in order to keep her dreams and visions from scaring him, or worse, casting her aside. 

But she couldn't handle it tonight.

She needed to see that he was okay.

She jumped up and walked out of her chamber, not bothering to grab her robe.

Her feet padded against the cold floor of Winterfell as she ran to his room. 

But once she reached the door that she knew was his, she hesitated. 

She should not interrupt his sleep.

She shouldn't bother him.

She shouldn't…

She knocked on the door and waited.

After a while, the door opened with a creak. Cregan's tired form filled the doorway. He was angry, reasonably so, thinking that a servant had interrupted his sleep. But seeing the culprit to be his wife, he softened his tone, "Whatever is the matter?"

"I… I just… I-" she stopped herself, realizing how pathetic her words had become.

Cregan tilted his head, rubbing his eyes forcefully. "What is it?"

"I needed to see you," she almost whimpered.

He paused and considered her words. "You wanted to see me?" He questioned.

"I needed to see that you're alright," she clarified.

"I am fine," he stated, holding his arms out as proof. "I was abed, slumbering quite peacefully. You have nothing to fret over."

She steadied her breathing, "Right." She rubbed her arm soothingly. "It was foolish of me to wake you. Please forgive me."

"I will if you tell me what caused such a ruckus in your mind," he stated, a twinkling coming to his eye as his mind finally was beginning to wake.

He hadn't gotten to spend as much time with her as he had hoped. She was skittish, and fairly so, but he couldn't find a way to connect with her. 

Perhaps it was because she wished for her own room. Or so Cregan had been led to believe. 

"Well?" He questioned when she gave no response.

"I saw something."

"Alright," he said as he took in her words. "What is it that you saw? Are you alright?"

"No, my lord," she persisted. "I saw something."

Oh.

He knew that she had visions, but he had yet to see the effects of them.

And now here she was, teary-eyed in the night at his door, begging to see that he was alright.

Whatever had occurred must have been quite serious.

He hummed in thought. Rather than saying anything, he moved out of the doorway, motioning with his head for her to come in.

She obeyed and walked into his room. She walked past him and began to observe his chambers.

The room was lit only by the flames of the fire in the fireplace. She walked to the fire to warm her.

Cregan shut the door and turned to her. "Chilled?"

She shrugged lightly as she stared into the flames.

He moved next to her. His hand brushed against her lower back in an attempt to sooth her.

"There was… there was blood," she whispered out. "Stark blood."

He felt a chill go down his spine. "Stark blood?" He rubs a hand down his small beard and huffs. "Sit down. I want to hear it all."

"You don't," she countered.

"I promise to you that I do. Now sit," he commanded softly.

She considered his words then nodded, sitting on the sofa by the fire. She pulled her legs up to her chest and began. "Well, I usually try to forget."

Cregan sat down next to her but left enough room to let her be comfortable. "If you don't wish to tell me, just say so."

"I'll remember. Just… give me a moment."

"Take your time," he remarked sweetly.

They sat in silence for a while.

"The lion will set a trap and the young wolf will fall. Red will rain down… as the king meets his match."

Cregan hummed. "That's a harsh dream, don't you think? Do they always frighten you like this?"

"There was… a feast… a…. A wedding feast. There was a Stark. I'm sure it was you, I'm sure of it. And… and a wife that I… I hope is me. She was with child but…" her voice trailed off completely this time.

"But…?" He pushed.

"But... the wedding was a trap. And you died. It was horrid."

"Do your dreams always come true?"

"Not usually. But… I imagine that they will one day. That day is just not come yet."

He thought for a while, leaning back on the sofa. "Is there anything else of note to this dream?"

"They said something. Before… before we were slaughtered."

His face paled, "You as well?" 

She nodded, "Well… I believe I may have been first. Me and…" the words got caught in her throat. "…the…the child."

Cregan's mind began to go into overdrive. The child? She believed he would ever let something befall her and a child of his in that manner? 

He already felt protective over the non-existent babe.

"What did they say?" He asked lowly as he looked to her.

She continued to stare at the flames. " 'The Lannisters send their regards.' "

Cregan stood and began to pace as he rubbed his forehead with his hand. The other was placed on his hip.

She watched his shadow dance across the ceiling as he moved. "Do you think me mad?"

He paused and turned his head to look at her. "What?"

"It's alright if you do. The people do. I've heard their whispers in the night when they think I cannot hear them. I imagine you whisper as well."

"You are my wife. Why would I ever-"

"-Please. Do not lie to save my dignity." She sniffled. "You have a wife that will surely go mad by her last days. It's alright to admit it."

"You're not mad, nor will you be," he stated forcefully, trying to make her believe it. "Do they speak to you in that manner? Do they say things to you?"

"Sometimes," she answered with a dead tone. She was indifferent to it all now. 

He sighed. "I understand your need for space, but I'd like you to move into here. Permanently. What do you think?"

"I shouldn't."

He marched to her and knelt in front of her. "I want you to feel safe. Wanted." He took her hand. "Whether this vision is the very vision of truth or whether it's all shit, I'm tired of this wall between us. Now, will you help me tear it down?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded.

He smiled lightly, brushing her cheek with his calloused fingers. "Thank you. Perhaps you should rest. It's still fairly early in the night. Enough time to find sleep."

"I couldn't sleep now. I never can after seeing things."

"Hmm. Well… perhaps you'll indulge me by laying by my side as I rest?" He offered, hoping to coax her under the warm furs.

He wanted to further tease her, but stopped himself, knowing that she was working through her thoughts. "I'm only asking for your company and nothing more."

She nodded.

He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the bed and pulling the furs aside. "The journey from your room to this one must have been cold. Were you so concerned for me you didn't grab a cloak?"

When she said nothing, he took that as an answer enough. "Let us get you warm then."

The two settled into the bed, the constantly flickering light from the flames almost leaving them in darkness.

She laid on the edge of the bed. She didn't want to overstep her welcome. She wasn't sure how far that welcome extended.

But his large arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him, and a chuckle came from his throat. "I wouldn't invite you if I didn't want you here."

She snuggled into his chest and relished the heat that radiated from him.

"I am sorry I have not been more attentive to you," he mentioned. "I should have been kinder and more welcoming."

"No," she interrupted. "I've pushed you away-"

"-Because I made you feel as if that was the best outcome." He brushed hair from her face. "Don't fret about that anymore. And in the morning, I want a list of those who have spoken unkindly to you."

"What will you do?"

He said nothing, only holding her closer.

As she began to lull to sleep, he smiled. "I won't let a Lannister touch you. That I can promise."

................................................

A/n: dare I make a part 3 when she's pregnant???? And have more visions??? I love how much everyone was trying to figure out what they were

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @dozcan123, @lady-dragon-rider

[knavesflames]

What about some vampire king arlecchino where she drinks blood-wine and keeps reader on her lap like a pet 😋

ӄɨռӄȶօɮɛʀ աɛɛӄ 1

[scheduled post]

Thank you for kickstarting my kinktober <3 I took the idea and ran with it but I’m actually quite happy with how it turned out, and I hope everyone else is too <3

Word count: 1.8k

Contents: fingering, vampire!arlecchino x human fem!reader

Nsft utc!

Arlecchino, a vampire so powerful that she terrifies both vampires and humans alike. Rumour has it that she once killed a man just by appearing next to him and whispering. She’s hauntingly terrifying, and somehow, the most beautiful creature you’ve ever set your eyes on. You can’t trick yourself into thinking that she doesn’t horrify you, that something about her chills you to the bone and makes you almost pray she has mercy on you when she decides to kill you. Arlecchino seems to have taken a liking to you, however.

Watching you from afar each night, only appearing at your door after the clock strikes midnight, you noticed quickly that she was quite a persistent woman thing when she decided to be. At first, you ignored the knocking on the wood of your door (the only thing that separated you and her). When you refused to answer (for you knew you would meet your end the second you stared into those soulless eyes), she began speaking. Pleading, almost. “Let me in,” her voice, barely a whisper, had reached you even through the headphones you had on in an attempt to drown her out. You wondered if the powers she was rumoured to possess were, in fact, true.

You’d like to say you withstood it. That you were able to wait until she had gotten bored, and that you were not like the others. The others. What became of them, once she was finished? Were they, perhaps, the other vampires you knew roamed about the land? Or, had they become nothing more than bones buried in soil, waiting to be discovered by some aspiring archaeologist in decades to come? Nobody knew. Nobody wanted to.

Alas, you did not withstand it. After a few months of her lurking by your door, you made the grand mistake of opening it. Immediately, your eyes moved to the floor. If there was one thing you, and everyone else knew, was that it was incredibly unwise to look into her eyes. They were not normal eyes. They did not have an iris, or a pupil. They were black holes with crosses the colour of spilled blood. Something that seemed so simple, and yet, you have known of people who looked, and were left so scared they could no longer speak.

“May I enter? Your home looks ravishing.” Her voice was a drawl, one that pierced whatever guard you were attempting to put up. You opened your mouth, nothing came.

“Look at me.” You realised by then that the rumours about whatever powers she could possess were true, for you, despite your screaming mind and attempts to stay looking down, found your eyes travelling up her frame. Arlecchino was taller than you realised, and her heels certainly didn’t help. Her suit, somehow a pristine white (how odd for a bloodthirsty vampire), contrasted against the inky black in her hair. “May I enter?”

Your head unwillingly found itself nodding, but clearly, that wasn’t enough, for she demanded once more. “Say it.”

“..you can come in.” You muttered. From then, she would visit you quite often, and you would come home to find her casually sitting at your dining table. You grew quite attached to her, though you detested admitting it. When you learned that she would not leave you alone, you found yourself appeasing her, stocking up on candles she enjoyed, playing her favourite songs quietly. You both grew close, in all honesty, and you understood that the night she made your head fall back in pleasure and your voice break from the countless moans you let out. Something about her made your heart beat faster and your breathing heavier. (Was it fear or arousal? Did the fear somehow arouse you more? You refused to explore that train of thought because you knew the answer)

One October night, you come home after work only to find her there once again. Not a surprise anymore, you think, you almost knew she’d be there. On the nights where the air is bitter and there are no stars in the sky, she opts to spend her time with you. You offer a small hum of acknowledgment, but don’t look at her. You try not to look at her, ever.

“Come here.” Arlecchino’s voice carries through your small apartment, the familiar thrum of her fingers tapping on the table. When your eyes move to the table, you notice a wine glass. One of yours, you’re aware, but you didn’t own any wine. The cogs begin to turn as you take a few steps closer.

Her hand, blackened with patterns you can’t help but secretly admire, pats her knee, the soft sound of the fabric reaching your ears. You abide, once again, swallowing as you perch there, your body tense. One hand wraps around your waist, and with strength, too much strength, pulls you closer. Her body, which one would expect to be cold, is burning hot, and as much as you hate doing so, your body instinctively leans into it. The room is cold, and she seems to hum when she feels you rest your body weight onto her. Your jaw tenses when you begin to question if you’re even scared of her anymore.

Until, that is, she sips the wine in the glass she so graciously stole from you. Wine. ‘Wine’. It feels like ice shoots through your veins when you smell the familiar metallic smell of blood, the one that seems to always coat her skin just faintly. It is then that you realise she isn’t drinking wine at all, but blood. Fresh blood, even. You feel sick until her voice cuts through your mind.

“I can hear that heart of yours. Scared, hm?” The words are almost teasing, and somehow, it almost seems like she cares. You shudder when her breath (and her fang) grazes your skin as she speaks. You cannot decide if you want to stay or run. You are horrified.

“That isn’t wine.”

“No, it isn’t. I never said it was, you assumed.” Arlecchino murmurs, moving to begin placing gentle kisses along the skin of your neck, causing your eyes to flutter closed. In times like these, you forget she isn’t human anymore.

“I should have known you were like every other vampire.” You whisper, mostly to yourself. Even so, you allow your head to tilt to give her better access. Your mind is slightly fuzzy, but you hear her place the glass on the table, and you feel the way her hands are sliding under your shirt. You let her. You like it.

“I’m not like every other vampire,” she protests quietly, but the words are full of amusement and mockery. “I’m worse.” Her words are punctuated by a small bite on your earlobe, one that causes you to moan yelp. The creature woman almost chortles at your moan, and chooses to push away your bra roughly. She cups your breast like her hands were made to do so, and suddenly she isn’t so gentle. She presses hot, open mouthed kisses onto your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, whatever skin she can access. Your arms circle her shoulders, and your hands weave into the snowy strands of her ponytail. When she gets this way, you always wonder whether she’s going to eat you, or, well, eat you.

Slender fingers fumble with the buttons of your jeans for a few seconds before she gets irritated, muttering a low curse before using those sharp, sharp nails to just rip the fabric. She lets out a noise of satisfaction when she hears the seams rip and you gasp. Without even thinking, you let your thighs spread, and she hums in approval.

“Good. Keep them like that, or else.”

“Or else, what?” You breathe, but the only reply you get is her fangs digging into your skin just slightly. You let out a breathy sigh, relishing each time her lips move against your skin, each time the tip of her fangs touch your skin, threatening, but never acting. (You’re unsure if she ever would bite you) (on certain evenings with her, you almost wish she would so you could spend your life with her)

“Please,” you murmur, and it seems that tonight, she is merciful, for her fingers move between your folds, a low chuckle coming from her throat.

“Excited, are we?” Arlecchino dons a wicked grin that only grows when she pushes said fingers into you, eliciting a cry of pleasure from you. She starts slowly, letting you adjust, but after only a few movements, your body is asking for more, hips twitching in an attempt to get her to hit that spot.

She does as you want her to, again, and again until each breath of yours comes out as a groan, a moan or a whimper. Your hands grip onto her suit like it’s a lifeline, your eyes are squeezed shut.

“I could bite you now,” she murmurs, clearly excited by even the thought of it. Clearly, you are too, by the sound you make and your heart beats faster. “I like you too much to do that, my plaything, but the thought is good, no?”

Each thrust of her fingers brings you closer and she’s very, very aware of that. You are, too. Your hips are essentially riding her fingers at this point, and she lets you. “I have heard that blood tastes the best when one orgasms. Should we try? I think yours would taste the sweetest.”

Those words alone seem to send you over the edge, because with a final whine, your breath stops for a second and you see stars. “Fuck—“ your swearing is so loud that it echoes the room, and Arlecchino knows that for as long as she exists, she will remember the sound of it, even after you are long gone (unless she can gather the courage to turn you one day. She can’t fathom the idea that she turns you and one day you despise her, that she’ll have to walk around with that knowledge).

Sliding her fingers out of you with a slick pop, her tongue darts out, wetting her lips before resting her fingers on her tongue. She moans at the taste of it, she believes it’s better than any blood she could ever taste. Arlecchino used to tell herself that she’d get what she wanted and leave you for the rest of the night, but these days, she’s been staying much longer than she should be. So, when you end up talking asleep on her, she lets you, even choosing to stroke your hair and trace circles against the pulse point in your neck with one hand, her other now holding the wine glass again. She thinks absentmindedly for a long time, swirling the wine in her glass.

By the time you awaken, you’re in your bed, blankets tucked around your body, the apartment’s heating on medium, and her lipstick marking the pulse points of your wrist and your neck.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A follow-up to my Hanahaki Platonic Stobin drabble

Platonic Stobin, Steddie, past Stancy || rating: T || wc: 2.7k || tags: dialogue heavy, VERY excessive use of italics, fluff and flirting and humor, no beta

~~~

His sides are ripped to shreds, insides only kept inside because of the torn, dirty scrap of sweater Nancy wrapped around him. Steve’s been downplaying it as much as possible, mostly to keep Munson calm, but Robin knows better.

What’s wrong with your back?

Steve sighs, trying to mute his thoughts into a scramble like they’ve practiced so well over the past nine months, but the scorching pain on his shoulder blades, feet, and arms makes it rather difficult.

Don’t you dare ignore me Steve Harrington.

She glares back at him from her spot next to Nancy. They’ve been walking for miles, every rock and crack in the ground digging into his feet with every step. Munson’s next him, going on about something like bats, or metal music. Steve’s not sure, he’s having a hell of a time focusing.

But the guy crowds into Steve’s space, dipping in and out of orbit like he can’t help being as close as possible. Eddie keeps looking at him. Steve’s never been great with eye contact, but can’t help it when Eddie starts saying things like “the kid worships you, dude” and “insists on the matter, in fact.”

Told you the kid loves you even though he has another older adult male friend.

Steve can practically hear her giggling, but she’s just balancing her out-loud conversation with their mind-reading conversation. She’s better at it than he is, talking to two people at once. Hell, sometimes Steve has a hard enough time keeping track of just one conversation.

Their new super powers had been a learning curve, to say the least. It’d taken them months to learn how to tune each other out when needed, which was more often than not. Working Family Video shed a new light on how absolutely down-bad horny Steve was for almost every mildly attractive woman who walked through the front door. Including Joyce Byers, to Robin’s horror.

Steve was cursed with Robin’s almost near-constant thoughts about her newest crush, Vickie. He’s never met her before, doesn’t remember her from school, but could describe what she looks like down to the small, rust colored freckle on the corner of her left eye, just below the lash line. 

But even with the extensive learning curve, they discovered some severe consequences of their powers almost immediately. 

The first day Robin came over, bloodied and crying, with him no better off, Steve was so shaky he’d dropped a mug, slicing his hand as he scooped up the pieces. She rushed over, said she heard his pain more than felt it, like loud static. 

So, no sharing physical sensations, just mind-reading. Which is great for me, considering how slutty you are. She’d laughed when he lightly knocked her on the shoulder, but she’d thought it with such fondness that he couldn’t be mad if he tried.

The worst of their situation came to light when Robin’s parents called her home, said a weekend away after Star Court was more than enough. So she’d left him alone in that big, empty house, suffering from a severe concussion and dizzy spells.

Which only grew worse the longer they were apart.

Steve didn’t have anywhere to go, now jobless with the mall gone, and none of the kids came to visit. So he’d holed himself up in his room. The headaches grew worse, handfuls of pills doing nothing to help.

By the fifth day, he was vomiting again, shaking and crying, head throbbing, nose bleeding into the toilet bowl all over again when there was a knock on the door. The knock might as well have been inside his skull, but he couldn’t move, could barely see past the haze clouding his periphery like it had after his fight with Billy. He cried as the knocking grew louder, more persistent, until it finally stopped.

He slumped forward, pressed his head into the cool porcelain. Lifting his hand to flush, he noticed a small, vibrant white petal floating amidst the red and black water, all of which, presumably, came out of him.

–can’t find it. Must be… rock. The mat?

Robin?

There was a click, then the sound of his front door opening. Slow, heavy footsteps up the stairs.

Dingus where the hell are you? Not in the bedroom… Please, Steve, I need help.

That got his attention, but as he’d gone to move, the bathroom door opened to a bloodstained Robin, eyes rimmed red, hair a mess, pale and gaunt like a ghost. She dropped to the ground next to him, practically draped herself over his back. And just like before, the pain receded so violently he vomited one last time. A full, yet slightly crumpled, flower floated amidst the yuck inside the toilet. 

It was a daisy.

“Daisies are my favorite,” Robin whispered. She held out her hand to him, dirty and covered in the same green stains as the ones on her shirt, and handed him a very small, miniature sunflower. “So I’m guessing–”

My favorite.

Eventually they’d figured out what works and what doesn’t. Talking on the phone everyday never helped, back to throwing up flowers after only a week. He’d started to pull the daisies out to dry, which Robin said was gross. She took them home with her anyways. 

But he’d borrowed Robin a sweatshirt that she took home with her, and by the fourth day, she was in better shape than he was, only a slight headache instead of Steve’s encroaching migraine. So they started exchanging clothes and quickly learned it wasn’t necessarily their clothes or possessions, but their scents. 

You smell kind of like sunflowers

“Robin, sunflowers don’t have a smell.”

She was face first in his pillow, day seventeen after a two-week family vacation to Key West, returning his comforter, and a myriad of t-shirts. They’d both gotten migraines, but no vomit-soaked flowers or bloody noses. So it was an improvement, overall.

I know they don’t. It’s more like, I don’t know, sunshine. Or fresh grass. A warm rain… like summer.

He’d jumped on her then, smothered her into his mattress until she was tickling him to get off her.

“What do I smell like?” she’d asked, casual but not quite casual enough. He smiled.

Like daisies. An open field full of wildflowers. A new song, or driving with the windows down. 

She smiled back at him, wide and genuine, packed full of love. And he knew, in that moment, he was happy to spend the rest of his life with her.

“Harrington,” Eddie cuts through his reminiscing. The guy looks like he’s trying not to be annoyed, which makes sense considering he’s attempting to be nice and Steve’s completely zoned out. 

Do you have another concussion? Is it rabies?

He sighs, quiet enough that hopefully Eddie doesn’t assume it’s aimed at him. No, Robs. Just a normal dingus-where-did-you-go zone out. Relax.

She shoots him another glare over her shoulder, but ultimately lets it go.

“Harrington, you still with us?” Eddie laughs it off like a joke, but his eyes are wide, and he’s pressing in close again.

He’s warm, and without thinking, Steve finds himself leaning towards him, too– like magnets.

What magnets?

Never mind, Robs, shut up.

“Yeah Munson, I’m still here.” Steve chuckles, and Eddie relaxes a tad. “Can’t get rid of me that easy. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Worse than an under-water tentacle monster dragging you through hell on your bare-back and almost choking you to death?”

When Eddie puts it like that, Steve really does have to think about it. “What about throwing fireworks at a giant, mind-controlling flesh monster and getting tortured under Star Court by Russian spies who shot me and Robin up with mystery drugs?”

DINGUS! If we haven’t told the Party about our super powers you can’t tell a goddamn stranger like Munson!

Eddie’s eyes are wide and dark again. He chuckles a little too loud, almost deranged. “Yeah, you know what, Harrington, that might be worse.”

They continue to walk in silence. Well, Steve’s silent. He lets Eddie ramble, talking about Dustin, something called a Munson doctrine. He calls Steve a ‘good dude’ at which Steve hopes the sky is dark enough to hide his embarrassed flush.

Eddie says something about the girls jumping in to save him, but he leans in again when he says it, and all Steve can think about is how close he is, the light brush of Eddie’s knuckles against the back of his hand–

What…?

– and the comfort that settles over Steve when he catches Eddie smiling at him. They stop in unison, Eddie leans in close to whisper like it’s a secret.

“But Wheeler, right there, she didn’t waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in.”

Eddie’s barely shorter than him, just enough that he looks up at Steve through his dark lashes, big, brown, puppy-dog eyes hooked onto his own. He knows guys can be handsome, but he thinks Eddie might be more pretty than handsome.

I’m sorry? What the fuck is happening back there!

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you two,” Eddie says, low and slow. His voice full of honey that soaks into Steve’s brain, the actual words lost in the overwhelming sweetness of everything that is Eddie. “But if I were you, I would get her back. ‘Cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Steve can’t stop staring at his lips. They’re so pink and fluffy and biteable, so he leans in, like instinct tells him. Eddie looks surprised, but brushes his finger tips against Steve’s own. He whispers, “Steve…?” like it’s more revelation than question. Eddie’s so close that Steve just–

“Are you fucking kidding me, Steven?” Robin shouts, incredulous and much too loud. Eddie flinches away from him, hides behind his hair like a turtle shrinking back into its shell. Steve’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

Disappointment? Wait. Did I almost just kiss–

“Eddie Munson?” Robin finishes his not-out-loud sentence.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks, nervous as the girl marches towards them, her eyes locked on Steve.

“Yes, Dingus!” Robin completely ignores Eddie’s response in favor of barreling up to Steve, finger so close to his face he goes cross-eyed. “Yes, you were, and oh my god I can’t believe you!��

Robs, I’m kind of freaking out right now. Can you please relax?

“You’re freaking out?” she shouts. Nancy shushes her, but it goes unnoticed. “I’m freaking out! After all this time, after Tammy fucking Thompson, this is happening right now? With– with– ” Robin wildly gestures to Munson. “Goddamn, Steve, you reek of sunflowers right now, oh my god! Just like when Joyce came into the store.”

It’s as dark as it always is, but a flash of red lighting illuminates the red painted across Eddie’s cheeks as he bites on his lip, looking nervous yet almost bashful as he pulls another larger strand of hair across his face.

“Sunflowers? What’s happening right now,” he whispers to Nancy, who shrugs. She answers with a casual, “I’m not sure, they do this a lot.”

“That’s not fair!” Steve quietly shouts back at her. “What’s wrong with–” he glances at Eddie, who flushes again. He’s so pale I bet he’s red down to his…

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Robin throws her hands over her ears and pinches her eyes closed.

Steve forces a smile to cover his gay panic. Shit, am I gay?

“No!” Robin slaps both her hands on either side of his head, mushing his cheeks together. “You’re not g–” she mushes her mouth shut, catching her slip-up just before it tumbled out of her. “And that’s not what that kind of panic means, so don’t call it that.”

“Panic?” Eddie asks, stepping towards them. His eyes are trained on Steve, flashing down to his lips, then back up to catch his gaze. Steve sees something like hope buried beneath Eddie’s tough guy demeanor. “But I thought–” he glances at Nancy before quickly looking away.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, and Eddie backs off a bit. Except his look doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Me?” Nancy asks. “What about me?”

Robin, don’t–

But it’s too late, because at that question, everyone turns to look at Steve.

Over the past few months, Steve’s started growing out his hair. It’s not really in style, but he’s seen a few guys with long hair, and they looked really good. Right now, he wishes it was long enough so he could hide behind it like Eddie. But, then again, he’d also tried growing a mustache, since Freddy Mercury had amazing style– Steve’s always like Queen.

Except my mustache never looked as good as his, so I bet long hair wouldn’t either. Maybe the short hair helps highlight it, like his cheekbones.

Jesus Christ, you’re so obvious. I can crack Russian spy code phrases enough to break into an underground military base but apparently I can’t spot a bisexual within five feet of me.

Steve sighs, dragging his hands down his face at Robin’s inside-mind rambling. Nancy, however, takes it to mean something much different. “Oh, Steve, no.” Her voice is pitying and too nice and it reminds him painfully of the last few months of their relationship. Like she’s talking to a child. “Steve, I’m so sorry, but– I still love Jonathan.”

“I know, Nance, that’s not–”

“Are you kidding me, Wheeler?” Eddie screeches. Steve really doesn’t understand how they’re so lucky that they haven’t been hunted down and eaten by now. 

Eddie’s thrown his hands up in the air, all theatrics as he gawks at her. She backs off, surprised, but quickly recovers and squints her eyes at him, crossing her arms as he continues to ramble. 

“After everything that’s happened? Steve ripping off his sweater, jumping out of the boat and beating a bat to death, then biting its head off, all while soaking wet. I mean, the way he spit that blood out.” Nancy cringes, and yeah, Steve feels the same way, knows he'll be tasting that black sludge in his nightmares. 

Now that’s gay panic.

I thought that’s not what that means, Rob

Ugh, I regret teaching you things.

Eddie’s still on a roll. “He was so… I mean,” Eddie throws his arms out towards Steve, showing him off like he’s a prized cow, “look at him, Wheeler! And you’re picking Byers?”

To Steve’s surprise, the glowering ferocity in Nancy’s face morphs into a coy smile, eyebrows raised in question to an answer she’s already figured out. Because that’s how Nancy Wheeler, journalist extraordinaire, gets her story. She reads people.

Before Eddie well and truly freaks out at the turn in Nancy’s demeanor, she winks at Steve out of the corner of her eye. “Joyce Byers?” She giggles and rolls her eyes. 

Then, in a mortifying turn of events, Nancy pulls a strand of her brown, curly hair in front of her face, forces her eyes open, doe-eyed and almost brown under the dark sky, looking up at him through her lashes, then darts her gaze to Eddie. 

Ha! You have a type! Wait, how did Nancy clock you faster than–

“Okay!” It bursts from Steve’s chest, loud enough it shocks the rest of them. They stand quiet, listening to the mundane noises around them, and breathe a sigh of relief at the resounding silence. “This has been fun, really, but why don’t we all just keep going so we can get the hell out of here and go find my– I mean our– no, the little shits.”

This is why they call you mom.

“I’m not a goddamn mom, Robin, how many damn times do I have to tell you guys that?”

“If you’re mommy, does that mean I’m daddy?” The words slip through Eddie’s mouth and, unfortunately, bury themselves into Steve’s brain. Now Steve’s not sure who’s blush is hotter, his or Eddie’s. He’d guess maybe Eddie’s, judging by the way the man grabs Nancy’s arm and hauls her away at a half sprint. 

She laughs at him, lighthearted, and slings her arm through his as they walk side by side. Steve watches as she leans her head towards Eddie’s whispering something into his ear that finally has the man’s shoulder’s relaxing. He bumps his shoulder against hers, and she returns the gesture.

Robin turns to look at Steve, really look, with sad, concerned eyes and a twist to her mouth.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It just caught me off guard I guess.

Steve places a light kiss on her dirty forehead. She smiles, grabs his hand in hers, and squeezes once.

“I love you too, Rob.”

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ THE SILENT TREATMENT ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ skz ot8 x any reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤangst, fluff ㅤ warnings insecurities, arguing, crying, cursing ㅤ﹢ㅤ300 per member wc

◗ ៹ BANG CHAN ›

Silent treatment, that one thing you hated from the bottom of your heart. And Chan was giving it to you, for a small mistake.

Well, you wanted to transfer some pictures from his laptop to your phone and you almost deleted his song drafts. Almost! But he caught you in the act of restoring everything and screamed so loud it could be heard down the street.

Then an argument broke out where he argued about you being careless and you argued about how they are not deleted and that is what matters. He argued back about how they could have been and then it led to a cold war.

Right now, you were both just giving each other silent treatment, both of your egos too big to back out. But now you were contemplating whether you should because you missed him, it has been two days since you both talked.

Just then Chan entered the room as you swiftly got up and you both simultaneously spoke, "I am sorry." You were beyond relieved at this as you jumped into his embrace and he stumbled back trying to hold you.

"I am so sorry, I am stupid," you said as he stayed silent. You looked at him narrowing your eyes as he shrugged saying, "If you are waiting for me to disagree, it will be a long day."

"Well then Chan, fuck you," you said as he smirked, "Yeah we need to make up for the two days."

Placing a small kiss on your lips he said, "We need to make up for the kisses and cuddles not done in two days too," and you nodded in agreement.

◗ ៹ LEE MINHO ›

You hung your head low thinking of ways of apologising to him. Even though it was not your fault you wanted to apologise first because it was too much for you to handle.

It was not your fault that the bartender was flirting with you, you did try to wave him off.

But that persistent person did not leave you alone which made Minho pretty angry. He stared at the bartender poking his tongue inside his cheeks before he left dragging you out with him.

And you two didn't even have any argument before he started the silent treatment.

You have poked him, literally, many times and stood in front of him blocking his way trying to make him talk but all was in vain. So now you were thinking of newer ways.

You made some cold coffee for yourself and sat down sipping on it lightly and suddenly Minho took it out of your hands and took a sip sitting beside you. "You know we are indirectly kissing," you half joked wanting him to break but nothing.

What tortured you more was the fact he was doing everything he usually does, except talking to you and of course, was depriving you of any physical affection.

You clung your body to him, hugging him sideways and you thought he would get away but he made no attempts to. "Come on, forgive me already, it was not my fault," you whined right beside his ears but he acted like he was deaf, eyes glued to his phone.

"Min please, you know I can't handle silent treatment, my mom did it too and trust me it hurts, like a bitch. It is one of the reasons I never give anyone silent treatment. You know these," hurt was evident in your voice as you said all those.

Still, when you got no reaction you just had enough and got up going to your bedroom. Tears pooled your eyes because you always thought the worst and now you felt like he would leave you.

Minho, on the other hand, realised he had gone overboard and with your overthinking mind you had now broken down. He threw the phone on the sofa ran up the stairs and urgently knocked on your door.

Before doing the second knock he pushed the door, seeing it was already unlocked just to see you standing on the balcony, blinking your eyes rapidly to stop the tears.

He went up to you and hugged you from behind he kissed your neck. He felt you relax in his embrace and cleaned your tears dry before kissing you on the nose.

That was enough for you to realise he was joking and he would never leave.

◗ ៹ SEO CHANGBIN ›

"How about you ask Seungmin to give you a ride home?" were the last words Changbin said to you over the phone. Now you were sitting in the car with him staring out the window.

There was an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air and you knew why. All because he was angry and jealous. And angry Changbin is scary Changbin.

You were laughing along every time Seungmin decided to destroy his members with his sarcastic lines, especially Changbin. But Seungmin accidentally made fun of him for being chubby which hurt him.

What hurt him more was you laughed along before you realised it now after that Seungmin hugged him which made him forgive him at once but when you decided to try that he just walked away.

And then after spending another half an hour with the 00' liners you decided to go home and here you were, in his car, when he is still angry.

"Changbin I am sorry, I didn't mean to," you said apologising to him again but he ignored you, again. You sighed throwing your head back on the car seat.

You gazed at him longingly, your eyes tracing his every feature as you put your hand on his which was free. "You look hot, driving with one hand," you voiced out unintentionally before widening your eyes in realisation.

He chuckled lowly before saying, "That is one way of making me talk." "Oh my god, you talked," you screamed in delight and you saw him pull the car to your house.

"Changbin I am sorry we joked about your insecurity, it was cruel of us," you said, being truly sorry for what you and Seungmin did.

"It is okay, mistakes happen, just I hope you don't repeat it," he says looking at you and smiling, dimples visible on his lower cheeks as you melted due to his smile.

"I promise, we won't, ever," you assured tracing your fingers along his knuckles. "Good," he smiled before leaning in and kissing you as you held his cheeks firmly, kissing him back. He parted for air but then you pulled him back, his laughter dying down in his throat.

And inside the safety of the metal bubble, a beautiful love was growing.

◗ ៹ HWANG HYUNJIN ›

Hyunjin was being overdramatic, again! It was a regular phenomenon by now, but this time it was getting out of hand. He was screaming his lungs out just because of his hair.

You both went to the grocery store before to buy some ingredients and when you were walking home rain started pouring. Now, there was no shadow in the alley and thus you both started running. But, by the time you reached your home, you both were fully drenched.

He started screaming as soon as he entered saying he was wearing an expensive hair product and now his hair will be all ruined due to it getting wait. He blamed you for not taking an umbrella to which you replied that you were not suitable to know it would rain.

Your constant sarcastic replies and eye rolls pissed him and thus you both broke out in a big argument. And then you both were screaming curses at each other forgetting what the argument was about anyway.

And now you both were sitting across each other on the couch giving the very infamous silent treatment since both of your egos were too big.

You were aware that Hyunjin was a sensitive person and constantly feared if he would start crying. If he did, then you would break instantly and you knew it very well.

And he did break down after a few minutes, sniffing lightly, trying to keep as quiet as he could. That broke your heart. All the times before he had wailed out loudly like a child.

But this time he was quiet, trying not to gain your attention and make you feel guilty. But now you were feeling guiltier than usual.

You got up from your side and sat down beside him and saw his tear-stained face. "I am sorry," he croaked out and you instantly hugged him repeatedly saying that you were sorry too.

You kissed his tears dry and placed a kiss on his nose, his two eyelids and a longing one on his lips. You pulled back but he pulled you back making him sit on his lap.

"Works like a charm," he smirked as you groaned but deep down you knew those tears were real. "You don't have to hide your pain like that Hyunjin," you whispered as he smiled at you.

"I love you," he blurred out and you replied, "I love you more." "Impossible," he said as you laughed lightly in his embrace.

◗ ៹ HAN JISUNG ›

You and Han were throwing angry remarks at each other because of a stupid argument. At this point, none of you even remember what the argument was about.

After one point a very sudden stop came to your argument when you received a call from your mother. When you finished talking with her you noticed Jisung had already gone to bed.

You sighed softly before you made your way towards the bedroom and saw him sleep on one corner of the bed face turned away from you. You quickly did your night routine and sat up on the bed flicking the light switch off.

The cool breeze of the air conditioner blew in the darkroom as you contemplated your sleeping positions for a few minutes. Then you scooted closer to him before placing a hand on his hair.

Gently stroking it from the back you put another of your arm around his waist. "Ugh, I hate arguing with you, you are too irresistible to resist," you murmured as he turned towards you taking you by surprise.

"Yeah, you scared me," you laughed but he gave no response as you realised he was giving you the silent treatment. "No, please, not the silent treatment," you whined as his eyes bored into yours.

"Come on Ji, please," you threw a small tantrum throwing your body into his arms but he didn't hug back. Suddenly you thought of a plan as you started tickling him.

"Oh my god, stop," he screamed out throwing you off his body as you laughed heartily which he joined soon after. "You make it very hard to stay angry," he said in between his laughs.

He jumped over your body kissing you all over your face as you lay on the bed giggling. Giving a longing kiss on your lips you both smiled like two teenagers in love.

You loved the way you loved him, and you would gladly do it for life. So would he.

◗ ៹ LEE FELIX ›

"Well sometimes Mr Brownie Lee, I would like a brownie too," you screamed at him as he briskly ignored you flipping through the television channels.

"Oh do not even think of silent treatment," you whined as he gave no reply or acknowledged your presence. "You know what, I will make some myself," you said as you left the room gloomily.

Felix got a little concerned about you using the kitchen but let you nevertheless. After a few moments, he heard a scream as he ran towards the kitchen.

Walking inside he saw you holding your hand under cold, running water and a knife with a little blood beside it. "Why can't you be safe?" he grumbled holding up your hands and gently rubbing them underwater.

"Hey, you are talking," you exclaimed happily as he sighed kissing your forehead softly murmuring a soft 'I am sorry' in his deep voice.

"It is okay," you hummed out as he suggested, "Let's make them together after your finger is healed." You nodded in agreement, your insides bubbling in happiness.

"By the way, what were you doing with a knife for making brownies?" he asked being genuinely curious as you laughed nervously saying, "You do not have to know."

◗ ៹ KIM SEUNGMIN ›

"No Seungmin you do not understand. I have nothing with you not holding hands or any other affection in public. But even behind the doors, you do nothing. It is not fine, I have given you three months to loosen up but sometimes I will get impatient too if you keep being so unresponsive to every affection," you screamed finally getting rid of all the frustrations in your mind.

For the first two months, it was okay, but now you felt impatient. You just wanted a simple kiss or just a hug but he did nothing. Nothing.

Seungmin stayed quiet, absorbing your every word before he left the room and slammed the door after entering the bedroom. You sat down on his couch contemplating whether you should just leave and go to your apartment or you should apologise right now. But your alter ego said otherwise as it felt you did nothing wrong.

You clutched your head in your hands thinking of ways to approach him because he would never do it to you. 'There you go, making the first moves again,' a part of your mind screamed and you just wanted to cry at that moment.

It was already two hours as the fight had ended and you were still there. You went up to drink a glass of water and after drinking you made your way towards his room.

Entering it you started talking, not exactly apologising but profusely trying to make him understand all your points as he stayed silent, not even looking at you.

"Fine, if you want to give the silent treatment, it is okay, I guess I deserve it," you sighed and left the room, well, tried to.

Seungmin quickly pulled you by your hand making you sit beside him on the bed as he said in a loud, clear voice, "I am sorry."

"Oh," you were surprised at the suddenness as he continued rambling on about how he should have been more compassionate and tried to understand how you feel. He also said that he would be more affectionate from now on.

His never-ending speech was boring you so you quickly pecked his cheeks and he stopped talking, staring at you with those puppy eyes.

You thanked the gods for making these kinds of ideas actually work in real life but the thinking process was cut off again.

Seungmin leaned in towards you, his lips ghosting over yours as he asked with a whisper, "May I kiss you?"

◗ ៹ YANG JEONGIN ›

"You are always busy, you either have a big project coming up, or you have tuitions, or you have college classes. I realise it is hard for you and thus I do not meddle with anything you do. I do not drop you off at college because you are afraid of scandals. I do not meddle when you mix with your friends. I just want some time for myself, please. Is it too much for you to give? Because if it is then we should break up. I mean I am an idol who hardly gets any time and whenever I do, you are busy. In the next months, we will be on tour and I will not see you. But you know what? Nevermind!" Jeongin inhaled sharply after the long speech.

He left the room leaving you dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. Your mind has stopped working as you thought of multiple ways to make this up.

You closed your laptop and scurried towards your room only to find it locked and you could hear Jeongin's sniffles from inside which broke your heart.

You felt guilty for what you have done because he was right. He was not those annoying boyfriends who were all over their partners' lives.

He did give you space, a lot. But you have just been increasing that every day. You sat down outside the door leaning on it as you could still hear him crying.

You patiently waited for him to open but he ignored all your calls and messages. An hour later he did open the door.

But he wasn't talking. You made multiple attempts to get him to talk and make him stop giving you the torturous silent treatment but none worked.

"Please Innie, I am sorry, I promise I will make up for every single moment I have missed, just please don't leave, I can't live without you," you choked out as a tear rolled out of Jeongin's eyes.

He turned to you hugging you before saying, "Do you know how much I love you to leave you?" you cried with him as his shirt got wet and whispered 'I love you too'.

Maybe, this time, you both will give effort to this relationship.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤit was supposed to be really angsty but meh i can't write without fluff ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @jeonghanfr ㅤmain mlistㅤ skz listㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

© arafilez on tumblr. please do not copy and repost my work as your own.

[starboye]

pairing: noah beck x male reader

request: Seems like a golden good boy but actually be the dirtiest roughest sex you’ve ever had

warnings: smut, overstimulation, fainting, fluff, cursing, rough sex, and that's it I think

to the public your boyfriend noah was a respectable guy, he opened all you doors for you, tied your shoe, or helped anyone with anything they needed but behind closed doors he was the most ravenous horny man you'd ever been with.

right now he had you splayed across his bed, hole sloppy and loose from the continuous poundings and you barely able to think of a coherent thought "you like that don't you" noah huskily says smacking your ass with his large hand "yes" you spit out at the feeling "so loose for daddy huh" he deeply says easily sliding his fingers into your hole.

"fuck, please noah" you whine gripping his forearm trying to push his fingers out of your sensitive hole "hey no touching" noah sternly orders grabbing your hands and locking them above your head with his free hand "then can I please cum" you ask desperately, your cock all red and swollen begging for release "I don't know if you can" noah teases "please I've been suck a good boy" you brokenly say with tears daring to drip from your eyes.

"just a little longer" noah says pulling his thick fingers out your hole and slamming his dick back in, he grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders to get even deeper in your warmth as you can do nothing but babble incoherently while your fucking into his mattress.

"your so good for me" noah smirks watching as you take him so well "cum for me" is the only thing that manages to bring you back to reality, the glinting hope that you can finally get release after what feels like hours of torture and after a few more thrusts from noah into you, you cum all over your chest, each spurt of cum being bigger than the last till you eventually finish.

although noah has came almost four times he still rides out his high, not being able to let go of such a beautiful flesh light like hole, sucking him in with your spongy walls and taking every thrust with such persistence "noah..." you trail off blinking in and out of consciousness due to overstimulation.

after some time your flat out faint as noah continues fucking into you not noticing your unconscious state "here it comes baby" noah grunts loudly as he tightly grips your thighs which will definitely leave marks to be found in the morning before he cums and fucks his fifth load into you.

loud huffs fall from his mouth as his chest heaves up and down trying to catch his breath "how was that" noah asks but you don't answer "babe" noah questions tapping your cheek lightly to wake you up but you still don't answer "y/n" he says with loads of worry throughout his voice as he leans down to listen is you have a heartbeat.

he breaths a sigh of relief to hear you still breathing just knocked out cold from the fucking "I really gotta learn to control myself" noah says under his breath scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the tub, laying you in it as the water fills it up, he coos sweet words as he cleans your fucked out body of the mess he basically made.

after washing you he puts you in one of his oversized shirts and shorts before laying you back in the now cleaned bed, the next day you wake up to a note from none other than noah himself as he lays next to you, tightly wrapping his arms around your waist, the note states "I'm so so sorry for fucking you unconscious last night and I hope you forgive me but I also hope you enjoyed last night" you lightly giggle at the note, noah was never the best apologizer but it was still an effort you thought was pretty cute.

noah may have always fucked you so rough the night before that it's always hurt to sit down or even walk but at least he made it his goal to sweetly apologize to you in the morning, you turn and kiss noah softly before nuzzling into his burly chest "I forgive you" you say falling asleep in his arms.

[lovemybluebully]

A Small Lapse of Judgement

What do you get when you cross a drunk Wolverine? Tickled. You get tickled. 🤣

Okay, yeah sorry guys. This one is literally like twice as long as my last one, but Logan and Wade both needed to get wrecked good. lol I'm just having too much fun writing these guys. So get some snacks or something because you're going to be here for a minute.

More somewhat movie spoilers, and Wade saying inappropriate things to Logan's annoyance. lol Oh, and of course tons of cussing. And tickles. Lots of tickles.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,372

At first Logan had declined Wade's invitation to live with him at his apartment. Having been on his own for so long Logan didn't want to accept the fact that anyone actually wanted him around, but after Wade's persistent prodding and convincing he finally accepted.

"Yes!! It'll be like a sexy slumber party!" Wade had whooped, but one steely-eyed look from Logan made him turn it down, "Ahem. Or, you know, just two guys hanging out together with no lewd activities of any kind...."

No doubt Wade pushed Logan's buttons and got on his nerves more than anyone he had ever met in his life, but after their ordeal together there was no denying the bond that had been created between the two of them. It was hard for him to admit it, but Wade was definitely someone Logan now considered as a friend.

Surprisingly he settled in quickly and had begun to make himself comfortable, allowing him to let his guard down and actually relax for once. It was only a one-bedroom apartment so even though he had to sleep out on the couch every night he was grateful to have a place to call home.

And Wade was thrilled to have him there. Unlike his other roommate, Blind Al, Logan was progressively becoming more tolerant of his off the wall antics so it was nice to have someone else there that he could really joke around with. And drink with, though Logan still tended to embark on some solo day drinking of his own.

Wade shuffled into the living room in his crocs one late evening with Dogpool cradled in his arm to find Logan slouched over on the couch in nothing but jeans and a tank top and a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Further observation revealed there to be two more empty bottles laying around on the ground by his feet.

"Hey. Robert Downey Jr. Wanna take it easy on the booze?"

Logan lazily looked up at him, rolling his eyes when he saw Wade was allowing the dog to lick all over his face.

"I will once ya take it easy on always making out with that mutt."

Wade stared at him in defiance as he continued to kiss Dogpool's head while she licked all around his mouth, making Logan grimace in disgust before Wade set her down upon the ten-sizes-too-big dog bed he had bought for her.

"You know if you were jealous all you had to do was ask, baby girl. There's plenty of Wade Wilson to go around," he leaped onto the couch beside Logan and puckered his lips, making smooching sounds as he tried to pull the other man close while Logan cursed and struggled to hold him back.

"Hey hey! Fucking knock it off, asshole!" Despite his annoyance he chuckled a little with the alcohol lightening his mood and after a few more seconds Wade finally relented to sit himself back.

"You can fight it all you want, but I know you'll come around one day. There's no resisting my natural labido," Wade sat facing him as he gave a wink and a flirty grin, causing Logan to sigh with a shake of his head and take another sip from the bottle.

"See this is exactly why I still drink. I need something to help tolerate your obnoxious ass on a daily basis."

"Fine by me. It has its benefits. Number one being that you're so much less stabby when you're like this," Wade teased, wiggling a finger into his side as Logan squirmed and giggled before swatting at his hand with boozed up coordination.

"Why are ya always tickling me? I hate that shit," Logan was still smiling though as he rubbed at his irritated ribs.

"Because," Wade smiled and turned to look out at the audience before whispering quietly under his breath, "The people demand it."

He sat staring in silence for several seconds until Logan lifted a brow in confusion.

"The fuck you looking at?"

"Nothing," Wade turned back to him, "Well it's because I have to make you laugh somehow, grumpy pants. You're always so serious, and worst of all you never laugh at my jokes."

"Oh yeah? Have ya tried actually being funny?"  A big shit eating grin was plastered on Logan's face as he instinctively pulled his arms in close to his body, not expecting Wade to let that one slide.

"Ooh hoo hoo, you're going to pay for that one later. You know what, smart ass? Maybe I'll tickle you in front of Laura. I'm sure she'd love to help me double team you sometime. A little badger on badger action, if you will." 

It was Wade's turn to smirk as Logan just looked back at him with nervous eyes that he tried to hide behind the scowl now creasing over his face.

"You'd better fuckin' not."

"I don't know. It's sounding like a pretty good idea to me. Usually I have to pay to see that kind of thing but-"

Logan growled as his claws started to come out, but Wade just laughed and wagged a finger at him.

"Ah ah ah! Rule number one, no bloodshed in the house. So best keep those claws of yours in check, my little kitty cat."

"Just don't give me a reason then," Logan warned, retracting the claws before his eyes raised to focus on Wade's head, "By the way, how long are ya gonna keep wearing that stupid toupee? I already told you that you ain't foolin' anyone with that thing."

Wade looked positively insulted as he patted and smoothed down the hair on his head.

"Uhmm excuse me? As I've told you a thousand times, it's a hair system. It's so I can go out in public looking halfway decent. Not all of us were blessed with the perfect bone structure of a successful Broadway actor," turns his head briefly to look at the camera, "And besides, I think it looks quite distinguished."

"I've seen better looking roadkill than whatever that thing's made out of," Logan snorted and downed the rest of the bottle in his hand before dropping it on the floor beside the other empty bottles.

"Says the guy who looks like he has roadkill glued to the sides of his face," Wade gave a less than gentle tug on his muttonchops as Logan grunted and smacked his hand away.

"Oh yeah? Well at least I can grow facial hair, pal. You on the other hand don't have a speck of hair on your whole goddamn body. You're like a fucking pre-pubescent child. This is what a real man looks like," a tipsy smirk crawled across his face as he nonchalantly pulled up his tank top to show off his hairy chest and stomach.

He emphasized his point by running a hand over his hirsute, muscular torso while Wade just stared very, very hard.

"........Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it's working," Wade was smiling deviously and reaching a hand out as Logan chuckled dryly and gave him a hard shove, sending him flying to the other end of the couch, "Just so you know, I'm adding that one to the spank bank."

"You fucking wish, bub. Think ya got a better chance with that ugly ass dog of yours," he nodded over towards the sleeping pooch while tugging his shirt back down. 

It was rare to see such a repulsed look on Wade's face as the man always seemed to be down for whatever but apparently messing with the dog was where he drew a line.

"Woah woah, that's just going too far now. You need therapy, my friend."

"Oh please. I forgot you were the fucking poster child for mental stability," Logan muttered as he lifted his legs to prop his bare feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"Heyheyhey! What in the ever-living fuck do you think you are doing? That's where we cut up our Bolivian nose candy-"

"I thought Feige said ya can't talk about that."

"Well what Feige doesn't know won't hurt him. Now let's go. Chop chop. Feet off the table, bud," Wade scolded and kicked Logan in the leg as the man rolled his eyes and begrudgingly pulled his feet down.

"You are such a fucking caveman. That table is an antique. Furniture crafted from the finest-OOof!" Wade grunted in pain as Logan dropped his feet onto his lap with his heel coming down hard onto his groin, "Uh uh nope. Not happening. Feet off the Deadpool too." 

"Well I gotta put 'em somewhere. What? Offended that ya weren't my first choice? Be flattered I finally found a good use for you," Logan smirked big time at the genuine outrage that now displayed on Wade's face.

"What the fuck do you mean?! You've seen what a phenomenal cook I am!"

"Almost burned down the apartment."

"I'm the king of late-night karaoke!"

"Got the cops called on us three times already."

"Well I'm good at making friends everywhere I go."

"I had to beat the shit out of all those bikers to get them off of you. Not to mention you almost got us banned from my favorite bar, you dumb fuck."

Wade started to pout from Logan shooting down all of his claims, but was quickly back to grinning as he thought of something that Logan couldn't possibly argue against.

"Okay, you know what? You wanna see something I'm good at? I'll show you something I'm very good at," Wade smirked and grabbed ahold of Logan's legs, securing his ankles in one arm as he began ruthlessly tickling the bottoms of his feet.

Logan lost any sense of calm he had as he immediately broke into a hysterical laughing fit, figuring out too late that he had made a huge mistake. There weren't many things in life that could get the Wolverine to lose his cool, but Wade Wilson the Tickle Monster never failed.

"Baahahahahahaha! Wahahahahade, dohohohon't!! Okaahaahaahaay! I'll mooohoohoove 'em!!"

Logan was far too buzzed to pull his usual act of fighting back his reactions and trying to pretend that he wasn't as horribly sensitive as he really was. Not that any of that ever discouraged Wade since he knew he'd always get him to crack eventually.

"Nah, that's okay. You just keep them right where they are, Giggles. Maybe this'll teach you some manners. Or not, that's okay too. I wouldn't want to run out of excuses to do this....," he scratched at the soles with Logan going nuts and frantically pulling at his captured legs while Wade's arm only squeezed tighter around them to ensure he wouldn't escape.

"Stahahahaaap, ya dihihihick! Fuhuhuhuckin' lehehehehe-lehehet me gohohohohooo!"

"What's that? Aww did you forget your safe word again? So confusing. How do I know if you really want me to stop or not?" The merc teased with his fingers scribbling at Logan's arches as the X-man's laughter surged in volume.

"Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Aaaheheeheeheehee nohohoho! Waahaait! I'm sohohohohorry!" He howled with tears already in his eyes as Wade found the weak spots under his toes; his body twisting and flopping around as he braced his arms on the couch in his clumsy attempts to get free.

Wade always enjoyed when Logan was in this state. Not only was he a lot less homicidal than if he was sober but he wasn't nearly as uptight and didn't even fight the tickles as hard. He practically just rolled over and took it and didn't hold much back. 

He suspected that Logan didn't hate being tickled nearly as much as he made out and loved to tease him about it much to the older man's insistent denial of the fact. It's likely that Logan would rather die than ever admit something like that.

Wade then cleared his throat and began to speak in his best exaggerated Australian accent.

"Crikey mate! Here we have the Wolverine. Best known for its violent tendencies and natural ability to be a complete jackass. When confronted by a stronger and more powerful predator it begins to make the most adorable snorting sounds that are meant as a sign of his submission. Let's listen in, shall we?"

Logan had been belting out uncontrollable snorts all throughout his laughter and it was one of Wade's favorite things to poke fun at him for.

"Shhh-Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup! You're sohohohoho fuhuhucking stuhuhuhupid!"

"Oh, I'm fucking stupid? Who's the one making all the little piggy noises, Wilbur? Speaking of piggies....," Wade smirked as he started to play with his toes again, "This little piggy was an alcoholic....This little piggy was always so mean to his friend, Wade.....This little piggy talked shit about sweet little Dogpool....This little piggy..."

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuck! Alrihihihihight I gihihihive uhuhup! Haahahahaah! No-No mohohohore!" Logan had managed to pull a foot free and was now kicking Wade in the back as hard as he could, which wasn't very hard at all due his weakened state from laughing so much.

"No more? No MORE? Sorry, sweet cheeks. But I've got plenty more," Wade then threw his foot aside as he turned and dove onto Logan's prone form to now attack his very ticklish stomach, "That was for treating me like an object! This is for saying I'm not funny!"

Wade snickered with glee as the feral man expelled a less than manly squeal of giggles and immediately curled into a protective ball, though all attempts to evade were useless. Deadpool was positively relentless.

"Nooooohohohohohoo nohohohot thehehehehere! Okahahaay you're funny! You're fuhuhuhuhuhunnyyyyyaaahahahahahaaStaahahahahahaaap!"

"Oh sure! All of a sudden I'm just magically funny now! Don't insult my intelligence! You can't bullshit a bullshitter!" Wade managed to get his hands underneath Logan's shirt, raking his fingers up and down his bare stomach and forcing him to dissolve into a lengthy, mirthful wheeze.

"Why are you so ticklish? Is it part of your mutation? A result of a Weapon X experiment gone horribly wrong? Talk, damn you! I need answers!"

Not that Wade actually expected him to answer, but Logan was laughing entirely too hard and fighting it even less. He had his head thrown back in hysterics that exposed his oversized canines, writhing feebly while tears were leaking down his reddened cheeks.

It was a sight to see the normally powerful X-man rendered helpless from such a soft touch, but it just goes to prove that healing factors and big muscles were completely useless against a tickle attack.

Wade would have loved to keep tickling him all night, and he knew the man technically could take it with the high amount of stamina he possessed, but it was time to let him go now and save it for another time. Logan had been a good sport, and he didn't want to push it too far.

Pulling his hands back he now stood triumphantly hovering over the still giggling and plastered Wolverine, who kept his body all curled up in case the crazy merc decided to come for him again.

"Are you sure you're the Wolverine of legends? I mean, this isn't exactly what I had pictured. If I hadn't personally seen you in action then I'd have some serious doubts," he smirked as Logan finally relaxed and slowly splayed out on the couch.

"Heehehehe-That's the worst Wolverine to you, bub. You-hehehee-fucking suck," Logan continued to giggle as he struggled to fight off the dizzying high of the combined tickle assault mixed with the alcohol in his bloodstream. Wade was pleased to see he hadn't soured his mood.

"But do I swallow is the real question? Hehehe, sorry, I couldn't help myself. Now did you learn your lesson, you drunken idiot?"

Logan regained some sense of focus as he slowly sat up and looked up at Wade with the most cocky grin.

"Of course not. Gonna take a lot more than that, fucker."

"Do not tempt me, Peanut. I showed you mercy this time, but I cannot guarantee this next round I will be as charitable," Wade smirked and cracked his knuckles, surprised to see Logan lean back onto the couch with his arms folded behind his head.

"Pffft. You don't fuckin' scare me. You can do your worst. Though I'm sorry to say you're not gonna get the chance. Ya wanna know why?"

"Why?" Wade practically demanded with his hands on his hips.

"That's why." Logan lifted a hand to point behind Wade as the merc whirled around to confront what may have got the drop on him and found.....nothing. Nobody.

"Wait a minute.....did I really just fall for the oldest trick in the bo-AAAHCK!" Wade let out a scream as he was pounced from behind by a playfully growling Wolverine and landed hard on his stomach with his face hitting the floor. He had seriously misjudged the other man's current ability to fight back.

"Heheh, you really are a fucking idiot. Now let's see how you like this shit...," Logan immediately dug into Wade's ribs from where he sat perched on his back and was more than thrilled by the scream that ripped out of the merc's mouth. He knew there was no way a loudmouth like Wade wouldn't be ticklish.

"Nohohooo Logan wahahahahaait! Ahahaheeheehehehehe! You cahahahan't tihihihickle meheheee! I'm-I'm the 'ler! Nohohot yooooou!"

"The what? What the hell are ya talkin' about now?" Logan didn't let up though while Wade tried to sputter out an explanation.

"The cohohohommunity! Ihihihit's a thihihiing! I g-guess tehehehechnically I'm a swihihihihitch buhuhuhut stihihill!"

Logan raised his brows, looking more confused than before as he ended up just shrugging it off and shaking his head.

"Nevermind. I really don't wanna know. Now shut up and laugh, asshole," Logan's big hands ran up and down his sides, squeezing his waist and making it back up into his armpits as Wade flailed and shrieked and desperately tried to clamp his arms down.

Logan couldn't help but laugh at Wade's reactions with how he had barely started in on him yet.

"Geez. Have ya really been this fucking ticklish this whole time? Looks like we've got some time to make up for," his fingers fluttered around under Wade's arms, producing wild cackles as he wriggled like a worm and tried to scoot across the floor.

"Get off get off! Nooohahahahahaha! I'm nohohohohot tihihihicklish! I'm nohohohohohohot!"

"Well if you're not ticklish then all this shouldn't be botherin' ya, right? Or do you prefer me stabbin' ya better?" Logan smirked as he used the three middle fingers on each hand to simulate his claws as he repeatedly poked at Wade's ribcage with rapid fire speed, "Hehe, now you're dead."

"Gaahaahahahahaha!! Nohohohohot the clahahahahaws! Mehehehehercy!" Wade begged, trying to reach behind him to smack Logan's hands away. Spoiler alert, it didn't work.

"Mercy? Ha! That's a fuckin' good one. Hey, whaddya know. I guess you are funny after all. Hehehe, tickle tickle tickle, fuckface."

Wade's hysterics were increasing in volume by the second and Logan snorted in amusement at the thought that they might get the cops called on them for a suspected murder happening in the apartment.

"Holy shit. Keep it down, will ya? You're gonna wake the-"

"What in the name of Satan's asshole is that horrible noise?!?!" Blind Al shouted in annoyance as she wandered into the room and nearly tripped over the two men roughhousing on the floor.

"Blind Al! Blind Ahahahahal! Hehehehelp mehehehehe!" Wade screamed as he managed to roll over underneath Logan and reach out a desperate hand towards his elderly roommate.

"You're such a dick. Ya know ya don't have to emphasize that she's blind all the time, ya inconsiderate moron," Logan rolled his eyes with a smile as he now had better access to Wade's ribs and stomach and dug right in.

"Baahahahah-Buhuhuhut thahahat's her nahahahahame! B-Becahahahause she's blihihihind! Gehehehet ihihit?!"

The older woman's lips pursed with disdain.

"Please keep torturing him. I will sleep good tonight knowing that stupid motherfucker is suffering," she gently patted Logan on the shoulder as she turned around and made her way out of the room.

"You got it, boss lady," Logan nodded with a smirk and scratched furiously at Wade's stomach, easily avoiding the flailing hands trying to stop him.

"Blihihihihind Al! Aahahhahahha! You trahahahaahaahaitor! Ahahahafter ahahall I've d-dohohohone for yooohoou!"

"Maybe you could gag his bitch ass too," she yelled back over her shoulder, making Logan chuckle.

"She's got a point. You're loud as fuck. Always makin' fun of how I snort while you're over here shrieking like a fuckin' little girl."

With that, Wade was struck with inspiration as he thought of a way to get Logan to stop.

"Yehehehes! Oh yehehehes Lohohohogan! Dohohohn't stop! Th-Thahahat's ihihihit! Tihihihickle me! Tihihickle mehehehe untihihihil I pahahahass ouhohout!" Wade pretended to moan between his laughs as he put his hands flat against the floor to demonstrate that he had no intention of preventing the tickling, though it was a major struggle for him to keep them there.

Logan tilted his head as he stared down at Wade in bemusement.

"Can't tell if you're tryin' to psyche me out into stopping, or if you really do like it that much. I wouldn't put it past ya to actually enjoy being tickled. Not the weirdest thing about you. Either way, if ya say not stop then I won't," Logan smirked and proceeded to tickle him even harder as he kneaded into his hips.

"Noooooohohohoooo! Okaahahaay! I lihihihied! I cahahahan't tahahahahake it! Pleasepleaseplease stooohahahahoooop!" Wade squealed and kicked his legs around and uselessly tried to grab at the other man's wrists to pry him off.

"Now was that really a lie? Are ya sure it wasn't an educated wish?" Logan loved to bring that stupid shit up every once in a while, knowing it would get under Wade's skin.

"So fuhuhuhunny I forgohohot to lahahahaugh, ahahahasshole! Nohohow gehehet off meeeheeheeheee! You fuhuhuhucking mahahahade yohohohour point!" 

Logan was about to make another quip when he heard loud barking and turned his head to see Dogpool come flying over the back of the couch towards them in superhero slow-motion.

She then rushed in to grab Wade by the hair as she pulled with all of her tiny body weight trying to free him.

"Yehehehes! Mary Puhuhuhuppins! Saahahahave pa-pa! Thaahahahat's it!"

"Yeah.....that dog weighs like eight pounds. Hehehe, don't think you're getting away from me just yet, bub," Logan snickered as he dragged Wade closer and plunged his fingers into his armpits, earning another shriek as the merc futilely clamped his arms down and thrashed even harder.

"Looohohohogaaan staaahahahahahahap! I'm-I'm sohohohohoh glahahad to seeheehee-ahahahahhah-see yohohou ehehehembrace thihihis sss-sihihide of you buhuhuhut-AAAAHH! FUHUHUHUCK!!"

A loud ripping sound was heard as Logan looked up in wonderment to see Wade with a hand gripped to his now bald head as Dogpool stood there with his whole hair piece in her mouth.

Logan couldn't help it. The sight of Wade laying there with those fucking staples sticking out of his head and the dog now gnawing on his toupee like a chew toy was just too comical.

He started to laugh. Really laugh. Laughing too damn hard to keep tickling Wade as he literally fell over, holding his sides while his whole body shook in uncontrollable guffaws.

Wade was finally able to sit up as he glared at his hysterical friend, but he had a smile on his face too.

"Really?! That's what makes you laugh?! You seeing me getting hurt is funny to you? Pretty fucked up, you sado," he pretended to sound annoyed, but really he was anything but. It was rare to see Logan laugh like this besides when Wade was tickling him half to death so he'd let him have this for the moment.

Still he had to strike back somehow for this indignity.

"Puppins attack! Kill, my little munchkin! Kill!" Wade shouted as the dog rushed towards the fallen man and jumped onto him. But Dogpool didn't have a mean bone in her body and only knew how to attack with love as she affectionately licked Logan's face much to his aversion.

"Blech! Wahahade! Gehet your dohohog!" He bellowed as he continued to laugh, but other than trying to shield his face with his arms he didn't do much to stop her.

"Okay okay, come here, sweetie pie. Lets get you away from the bad man who tried to kill your pa-pa," Wade reached over and pulled her off of him, setting her into his lap.

Logan finally fought down the giggles as he sat up to find Wade staring longingly at the destroyed toupee in his hand. He kind of felt bad for the guy and thought he should offer some words of encouragement.

"Yeah, that thing's fucked. Big time. But hey, I think you look better without it," he nodded, using his shirt to wipe off his face as Wade gave him a genuine smile.

"You're only saying that because you're drunk," the merc teased back as Logan shrugged in response and grinned broadly.

"You're probably right. I wouldn't touch ya with a ten foot pole."

"That's okay. I don't mind doing all the touching...," Wade gave him a quick squeeze on the side as Logan snorted and lurched away from his reach and got to his feet.

"Don't fucking start that again. I'd say we're even now. Besides, you don't wanna fuck with me now that I know how damn ticklish you are. It's a stalemate. We can put this all behind us and move on. Now if ya don't mind I'd like to get some sleep," he waved the other man away as he grabbed some blankets off the back of the couch to set up his sleeping area.

Wade just smirked as he began walking out of the room with Dogpool in his arms.

"Silly silly Wolvie. I'm not sure you realize the implications of your actions. But I'm afraid this is far from over. You, my friend, have just started a war."

Logan's face fell as he only stared back at Wade in wide-eyed silence.

"Nighty night, Peanut. Sweet dreams," Wade smirked devilishly, waving with wiggling fingers as he flicked off the light switch on the wall.

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Hurricane

This is part 1. You can read part 2 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader 

Summary: The upcoming bachelor party that Carmen has to cater causes some tension between him and y/n. 

Word Count: 9.5k 

warning: alcohol, mentions of throwing up out of nervousness but no one actually does, or even comes close, fighting, smoking

--

Three hundred thousand dollars, what kind of fucking moron takes out three hundred thousand dollars just to blow his brains out and let his younger brother foot the bill. What kind of cosmic douche does that to another person? Y/n would never say something like that out loud but she certainly was thinking it after Carmen told her about the debts that he apparently owes on top of the bills he had yet to pay. In fact, Carmen was barely scraping by, he cut his pay check till all he had was enough to cover rent and the bare bones necessities. Rather than cut anyone’s pay, or cheaping out on ingredients, he sacrificed almost everything for this restaurant, for his brother. And what did his brother leave him? A three hundred thousand dollar bill. Once again, what a dick. 

“It’s not-” Carmen started. “It’s fixable.”

Y/n didn’t say anything, she continued to scrub the stop top and kept her face neutral when in reality her blood was boiling. It’s not her debt and she is completely free to run away before this ship sinks but she couldn’t help but stay. She had convinced herself that the reason she stayed was because this horrible and completely fucked restaurant was like a train wreak, you can't help but stand and watch it crash and burn. Definitely not because of any other personal reasons. 

“We just have to keep our heads down and get through the year and we can get some money off of our tab.” 

More silence.

They both knew it was a pipe dream, no matter what they did at the restaurant, they could only make an insignificant dent towards the impending debt. Y/n didn’t want to be negative when Carmen was doing his best to not crumble under the pressure so she looked up with a small smile. She wondered if the smile translated as an optimistic smile or a pity smile.

Carmen sighed, leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his palms in an effort to wipe away some tension. Looks like it translated as a pity smile. 

“Tell me something good, y/n.”  Carmen mumbled through his hands.

It was like the words were lost in her mouth. What could she possibly say? What collection of words makes this shitty situation any better? The answer is none, sometimes words mean nothing. No amount of consoling or baseless optimism could make this situation look good. If you can’t make a shitty situation look good then you should at least make a shitty solution look good. 

“At least you have those bachelor parties, you can knock off a few grand.” Y/n offered.

“Yeah,” Carmen agreed half-heartedly. Looks like she couldn’t make the shitty solution look good either. Y/n gave herself one more attempt to lighten the mood before she sewed her mouth shut, crawled into a hole and died. 

“And let's not forget that your “loan shark” is your uncle and he won’t smash your kneecaps.” Y/n jokingly muttered, “Probably?”

Y/n heard Carmen exhale through his nose. Y/n lives to speak and live another day. After testing the waters for the past few months, y/n realized that in order to get Carmen to stop going into crisis mode she had to either talk about a solution or completely distract him. 

“What's the payment situation going to be like? …What is the interest?”

“No …no interest, just a clean 300k.”

“That's fair, adding interest on a loan like that would be like throwing shit in a septic tank. When is the bachelor party?”

“Uncle Jimmy is coming by tomorrow to give the details for that stupid fucking party.”

One quality that has persisted through out the years was y/n ability to not know when to shut the fuck up. The trait was helpful when filling the silence between the both of them. Carmen liked to listen more than talk, he didn't have anything to talk about except depressing shit. So when the air was filled with anxiety and tension y/n did what she did best, make a damn fool of herself.

“You think there's going to be strippers?”

Carmen looked up from his hands and gave out a laugh out of shock and it sounded like music to y/n ears. She wished she could record it, he really did have a nice smile and she wished he smiled more. Good god, he looked so… so…

“There will be at least strippers.” Carmen snickered while hiding his smirk behind his hands. It's like he knew she was waiting for it and was depriving her on purpose. This was a good learning moment for y/n though, shock humor lands well with Carmen. 

Y/n moved on to scrubbing the floor because she wasn’t able to look Carmen in the eyes after asking, “Have you ever been to a strip club?” 

She didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of look she was getting. She heard a bewildered laugh and looked up and was met with  an amazing view. His head was thrown back and his hand was running through his hair. 

For a brief moment, y/n tried to convince herself that all of the embarrassment she put herself through wasn’t worth it but after stealing a few glimpses of him she could confidently say it most definitely was.

“No I haven’t. You?” He then straightened his head and grabbed a towel and started scrubbing too.

“Of course, I've been. I used to work in one, you know?” Carmen’s head shot up.

“Yeah, but I needed a career change.”

“You worked in one? As a… dancer?” Carmen asked not quite being able to tell if this was a joke or not.

“You call strippers “dancers”? What are you, 90? No, I was not a “dancer.” I was a bartender.”

“Hmm” Carmen pondered before adding, “I knew you couldn't be one, I saw you slip on air this morning.” 

“My lack of coordination aside,” y/n rolled her eyes jokingly, “I spent a lot of time seeing the routines and stuff and I could never, I can barely run a mile let alone swing around on a pole. Those strippers are stronger and braver than the Marines.” 

“I have a cousin in the Marines,” Carmen added while scrubbing a particularly tough stain.

“Tell him that he’s a little bitch.”

Carmen stopped scrubbing and gwaffed into his fist. On the outside she looked normal but inside she was scratching the skin off her face in joy. She really wanted to seal the deal.

“Would you ever be a stripper?”

3-0 favoring y/n because Carmen looked up at her and laughed, and not a reserved one. A full one with an open mouth and red face. 

Holy fuck… what the fuck was she doing? She could be home right now rewatching a nature documentary to unwind.  She should be asleep right now. It's 12am and here she is sitting with her boss on the floor counting how many times she can make him feel good. And the worst part?  She was enjoying herself. 

“I don’t think I would make a good one.” He said as he moved closer to y/n and scrubbed at another scuff mark. 

He would make a great one, y/n thought. He has huge arms, a quiet but powerful persona, a sculpted face, and beautiful eyes. Y/n had to resist the impulse to say that she would throw all her money at him right this second. 

“It's your eyes.” Y/n humorously pondered, “They’re too intense, am I going to get a lap dance or am I going to get into a long and meaningful relationship?” 

Carmen's gaze lifted towards y/n, and she wrestled the urge to lock her gaze with his mesmerizing cerulean eyes. She wanted to etch into her memory the way the yellowing lights danced upon his irises, as they transitioned shades, but the flutters in her stomach were making her woozy. 

Y/n was a coward, so unsurprisingly she looked away, but not before stupidly adding, “You could add a blindfold to your act, I bet that would make the girls go wild.” 

What in the flying fuck was she talking about, y/n screamed in her head. Y/n had some nerve calling The Beef a train wreck when she was watching herself crash and burn and not being able to stop herself. It felt like an out of body experience, like she was watching someone else fuck up her life. 

Carmen looked like he was thinking about something and y/n wondered if she would have the courage to pick up her last check after she got her ass fired. 

“Judging by the amount of shit I have to deal with in this stupid fucking place, being a stripper is starting to look more and more…” Carmen stared at y/n for a split moment,  “tempting.” 

Y/n was glad that he had inadvertently stopped her from saying something really stupid but she needed a quiet place all to herself so she could squeal like a teenage girl.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, y/n was starting to notice how close they were and in order to stop herself from getting a sued for sexual harassment she forced herself to call it a night, and that was a tough call to make. Y/n smiled at Carmen before softly mummering, “Carmy, you’ve got a big day tomorrow why don’t we get you home?”

Carmen's posture straightened, and a slight haze seemed to veil his eyes. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards y/n. In the instant their palms met, a surge of thoughts flooded y/n's mind, realizing how deeply she would miss this touch once they released. The fleeting moment barely allowed her to relish the sensation, leaving her with only a passing recollection of his hand—warm, calloused, and undeniably strong.

After grabbing their stuff from the lockers, y/n glanced at her phone that showed 12:14am. The walk home was going to be a real bitch. Carmen did one last walk through before leaving. Y/n could have left after she got her stuff but she stayed for a bit longer. She leaned against the windows of The Beef watching Carmen leave the restaurant and lock the door. He didn't look a bit surprised at her still waiting for him, he knew she would always be there waiting. It was a tradition, they would close up and he would walk y/n to her car. He would wait till y/n car was completely out of sight before he climbed into his car and drove to his place. 

“Where did you park your car?” Carmen asked while shuffling through his bag to find his own car keys. 

“My car is at the shop, I'm going to walk home.” 

“You're going to walk home after dark? It's like 1 in the morning?”

“It's 12:30 and it's not that big of a deal, and if I get tired I'll just uber the rest of the way home.”

“That's how people get kidnapped, y/n”

“Don't worry, even if I do get kidnapped, I'll still miraculously make it to work on time tomorrow, and I'll have an epic tale to share for years to come." Y/n joked. "Why don’t I walk you to your car for a change? Where did you park?"

Carmen hesitated, not because he didn't want to offer a ride but because he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. It's just a ride home, it's not like ridesharing amongst coworkers is something new. 

“Let me drive you home. This is not a great neighborhood.”

“My place is opposite from your place, I'm not going to hold you hostage. Go home, you have a big day tomorrow.” Y/n pulled up Google maps to see how long the walk would take, 35 minutes wasn't too bad. 

“It's fine, I wasn't going to sleep right away anyways.”

Y/n shot a disapproving look. "Do you honestly think I was born yesterday? I mean, come on. You're planning to stay up late after a long day at work today and another one tomorrow?"

“Let me do this for you…Please.”

Y/n was contemplating beating his ass with one of the 2x4s lying around, how fucking dare he look at her like that when she is already holding her self back from jumping his bones. It was maddening. In that moment, the streetlight cast an ethereal glow upon his hair, transforming it into strands of pure gold. She couldn't deny the captivating effect it had on her. And that infuriating expression he wore, as if he had the power to make her surrender to his every whim, was driving her wild. If he had asked for her kidney with that look, she might have found herself on her knees, desperately clawing at her own abdomen to fulfill his request.

“Ok, thank you so much Carmen. You really are…kind.” Y/n tried not to look at his eye because she knew that she would feel another flutter and now she had an audience watch her throw up from overstimulation. 

“It’s the least I can do.” Carmen didn’t have the courage to thank her for making him feel better about the restaurant’s financial situation so this was the best he could do. 

They both walked to Carmen’s car in silence. Y/n had an unstoppable itch to fill the silence with some asinine conversation but she resisted. She knew as soon as she got home she would scream into her pillow for bringing up strippers and blindfolds to her boss, and she didn’t want to add more things to cringe about. They could be 85 and she would still pucker her face when remembering this night.  

They finally walked up to Carmen’s car, and Carmen opened y/n’s door for her. Y/n had to keep from fainting right then and there, she was a grown woman and Carmen was doing the bare minimum by helping out an employee and here she was fighting a blush. He walked over to the driver side and started the car. 

“You good?” 

“Sorry.” Y/n hands were shaking from the nerves.

“I can't find the seat belt connector thing, it's too dark." 

Carmen wordlessly grabbed the seatbelt from the base and trailed down the belt, softly grazing his knuckle on her collarbone before gently taking the buckle from y/n's hands and guiding it to the right place. 

Y/n mumbled a soft thanks. They both looked away for a second, both of them completely floored by Carmen’s boldness. Y/n couldn’t take this anymore she needed to get out of here before she became a stuttering mess, “Let me look up the directions, I’m geographically blind so I need Google to tell me where to go. I've been working here for months and I still need someone to tell me to get home.” Carmen pushed his tongue against his cheek to stifle another laugh. 

“Geographical blind”, who says that? That's literally the lamest fucking thing you could possibly say. Y/n was going to go home and watch a few meditation videos in the hope that she learns how to shut the fuck up. 

The ride back was nice and quiet. Y/n was too tired to talk and she was starting to feel guilty for making Carmen drive her home, he should be even more tired than her. They finally pulled over to y/n’s place, and she sat in the car for a few seconds to ground herself before she looked over to Carmen who was looking straight through the windshield. 

“Thanks again Carmen.” 

“Will your car be back tomorrow?” 

“The day after.” 

“I’ll drop you off tomorrow then.”

“That's too much Carmen, You aren’t obligated to do this. I’ll just leave a little earlier so I can catch a train.” Carmen looked like he was not satisfied with that response. Y/n didn’t want to leave early because she liked her time alone with Carmen but she couldn’t keep imposing. 

“I’ll drop you off, it's not a big deal.” He left no room for negotiation. 

Y/n smiled at him before grabbing her purse. Carmen got out of the car and walked around to y/n’s side to open her door. Y/n got out with as much grace as a toddler, she really needed to go to bed. 

“Carmen, you really are too… you're just too…” Y/n struggled to find a good enough word before mindlessly blurting out, “Good.” 

Y/n couldn’t see his face because the streetlamp was too far to illuminate his face so she didn’t know if she made him uncomfortable. 

“Thanks again, I’ll see you tomorrow Carm.” Y/n softly mumbled before walking into her building and while waiting for the elevator she saw that Carmen was still leaning against the car door. She gave him a small smile not seeing if she got one back. The elevator ride up was filled with y/n jumping, dry heaving, and overall panic induced mayhem. The second hand embarrassment was too much. The elevator dinged and she went into her place and looked out the window to really burn the memory into her brain. This is the exact date and location where Carmen dropped her off. 

She was surprised to see that he was still there. Everyone at work knew what apartment building she lived in because she invited them over for dinner recently, so it wasn’t a surprise that he knew the general area on where to look for her apartment. 

She flicked on the lights and picked up her phone to dial him and watched as his silhouette fumble around to  find his phone. 

Carmen spoke first, “I just wanted to make sure you…”

“I got home safe.” Y/n opened her window before giving him a wave from five stories. 

Y/n continued, “Go home, chef, I want to see you bright and early tomorrow.” She saw a blur of what she deciphered as a wave. 

“Night y/n”

And with that y/n closed her window and Carmen drove off. It was 1 in the morning so she didn’t jump or scream into her pillow like she intended to because her neighbors would kill her. So she settled for a shower and eventually passed out. 

Y/n was not a morning person my all means and told Carmen as an off handed comment a few months back. He offered her later hours so she didn’t need to come in super early for prep but she could stay to clean up. She got ready and got to the restaurant at around 11:30 am, where she found Carmen, Richie and an older man seated on a table at the far corner of the restaurant.

 Before she could slip away to make herself busy in the kitchen, she was called over by the older gentlemen with a finger curl. Y/n turned around assuming that he was indicating someone else only to find that no one else was there but her. She looked over again and pointed at herself and Richie rolled his eyes before kicking the chair next to him to indicate that she was to sit. Y/n took off her headphones and sat across from the old guy and in between the cousins. Carmen looked up and wordlessly gave her a polite greeting. 

If this was money problems why is this old fart calling me over? 

Awkward silence.

“Good morning.” Y/n started.

“Morning, did Carmen fill you in?” Carmen’s “uncle” asked.

"I'd be delighted to put a name to your face. I'm y/n," she said with a warm smile.

“I'm Cicero…” Y/n pretended to look a bit puzzled, “Uncle Jimmy, yes, yes, Carmen told me you were coming today”

No one filled the silence so y/n stepped in. 

“As much as I love the mystery, I do have work to do…so…why am I here?” 

Cicero spoke up, “Carmy’s got that catering gig at that bachelor party on Friday and we were wondering if you would like to help.”

“Catering to a bunch of drunks on Friday night, seems like exhilarating” Y/n said sarcastically.  “I'll be there. I’ve got to the kitchen, I shouldn’t leave Tina alone with my prep-” 

“Look, I'm going to be honest with you…” Cicero continued, Y/n glanced sideways at both Richie and Carmen but they looked as confused as she did. 

“Did you work out front a week ago?” Cicero asked.

“I covered for Richie on Tuesday?”

“One of the guys, the groom, saw you and thought you…looked…” It looked like he was embarrassed to finish what he wanted to say. “They want you to be there.” Cicero finished.

“This is what you were holding off on, we’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes in fucking silence so you could solicit a fucking chef?” Richie said in confusion before laughing and leaning back to glance at Carmen on the far right who was visibly livid, which caused him to laugh even more obnoxiously. 

“Be there and do what?” Y/n pondered, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how human trafficking stories began. She wasn’t really paying attention to either Carmen or Richie, but she could feel that it was getting tense on her right, where Carmen was seated.

“I'm just going to rip off the bandaid. They want you there to serve drinks.” Y/n couldn’t hide the look of bewilderment and relief. 

“Jesus, you were making it seem like I was going to have to sleep with them…Yes I can serve drinks. I’ll be there” Y/n got up from her chair and Cicero added.

“Do you know what a Hurricane Shot is, y/n?” 

Y/n immediately sat right back down, she let out a laugh and she was in decent company because Richie was also dying right next to her.

“They want that…” Cicero finished awkwardly. 

Carmen looked up after trying to burn a hole into his table. “What the fuc-” Carmen fumed. 

“What’s the pay like?” Y/n asked.

“Without you 5k, with 10k”. That made Richie stop laughing. 

“Let me think about it.” 

Y/n got up and walked out back. She stole a quick glance at Carmen who was sharing some choice words with his “uncle.” Y/n thought that she might as well get back to work. She was going to serve drinks no matter what but she had a feeling that she would get some resistance. 

The rest of the shift was relatively slow and Carmen was in his office for most of the day. Around 8, it looked like there weren't going to be any more customers so Carmen finally got out of his cave and let everyone leave early. He stood with his back straight and arms crossed in front of his office, his eyes narrowed at y/n. Y/n thought she could not deal with the brunt of this confrontation by herself, so she looked at Richie trying to nonverbally communicate for him to stay. Luckily, Richie understood and stayed and it was just the three of them alone at the restaurant. 

Carmen went inside and it was implied that the both of them should follow. 

“I'm going to serve at that party.” Y/n whispered.

“Yeah, no shit you are.” Richie agreed while whispering a lot less quietly. 

“It's 10 grand.” Y/n reasoned

“Who says no to 10 fucking grand?” Richie exclaimed.

They both walked over to the office. Y/n stood against the wall, it felt like she was being sent to the principal's office. 

The silence was killing y/n so she started, “It's just one day.”

“Only a few hours” Richie offered

“Which is basically just a few minutes.” Y/n reasoned. 

“Which is really just a few seconds.” Richie added.

More silence. 

“It's a lot of money cousin, and y/n is up for it.”

“Yeah, 10k in a few hours. I mean it would be totally crazy to say no.” Y/n remarked.

“You would be fucking crazy to say no.” 

“Yeah, Carmen, it would be pure idiocy to say no.” Y/n chimed in.

Carmen rubbed his temple and then looked up. “That is not happening. You aren’t doing this.” 

“It's 10k, Carmen, and all I have to do is pour some drinks. It's like money is just falling on our laps, we have to take advantage of this golden opportunity.” Y/n added, “God helps those who help themselves.” 

“You're religious?” Richie questioned

“No, but he’s Italian and they're religious, right? I thought it might help my case.” Y/n whispered.

“I can fucking hear the both of you.” Carmen was annoyed and y/n realized she didn’t really know how to convince him to let her help him. 

“What specific issue do you have with me bartending at this party?” If she got to the root of the problem she could find a solution that helped ease his worries. 

Carmen brooded in his corner. People didn’t give Richie enough credit, he was pretty good at reading a room and he knew that it would be better if he left Carmen to y/n. 

“I got something tonight.” Richie spewed out before turning around to get the hell out of there. As he was about to leave he mouthed You got this? Y/n gave him a subtle thumbs up.

They both stood in silence hearing the sounds of Richie walking around the kitchen to grab his keys and get his charger in the front, and eventually the door chimed meaning that it was now just Carmen and y/n. 

“Tell me what the issue is. Do you have safety concerns?” 

“That's one of many concerns.” Carmen knew he was being difficult but he couldn’t let this happen. 

“I'm just pouring drinks, I'm not going to be doing anything super dangerous.” 

“You are going to be pouring drinks for coked out dickheads. How is that not dangerous?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Besides, your uncle told me that I'm going to be giving hurricane shots, if anything I'm the dangerous one.”

Carmen looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that is?”

“You don’t know what it is?” Y/n had to resist snickering. “So basically, you would take a shot, then I would splash water on you and slap you…Do you want to see a video?” Y/n ushered Carmen to the only chair in the office.

Carmen didn’t know why he was humoring this and he didn’t want to admit it but he was wondering what the appeal of getting slapped was. If it's just slapping a few guys then maybe it wasn’t too bad…

Y/n pulled up a video and any bit of him that could have been convinced to let this happen shriveled up and died. It was a video of a woman in a very revealing dress sitting on a table splashing and slapping horny middled aged fucks. Absolutely not.  

Y/n looked up from the video and saw that she made it worse. Carmen was sitting silently in his worn out chair, not even looking at the video just staring at the floor. 

Carmen felt a hand on his shoulder and felt y/n come closer, he could feel her breath on his neck and it was making it hard to breathe. Softly, y/n whispered, “Carmen, you are being perfectly reasonable and very respectful but this is a once in a lifetime situation.” 

A soft pause passed while y/n was trying to formulate the right words.

“You do so much for me so let me take care of you, Carmy.” Y/n rarely called him that and the name slid down his spine causing him to shiver. 

Without even having time to think about what just came out his mouth, he mumbled a soft “yeah”. Carmen looked just as shocked as y/n. Neither of them were expecting that, y/n was expecting to have to postpone convincing him till tomorrow. 

Now the next hurdle was making sure that Carmen didn’t change his mind. “Why don’t you stay with me during the party? That way if anything happens you'll be there. Will you be my designated bodyguard for the night, Carmen?" Y/n playfully feigned a pout, allowing Carmen to remain silent, sensing that he might need some space to process the request

She slipped out before taking a deep breath, Jesus that was stressful. People killed each other for 10k and he was just going to throw it away. Y/n wasn’t going to let that happen, even if he said no she would have snuck into that party and got Carmen his 10k. 

She surveyed the kitchen, it was spotless. There really wasn’t much to do because the other chefs had done most of it but she had a feeling that if she left Carman alone, he would change his mind. So, she did what she did every single day, scrub these stupid floors.  

A few minutes had passed and y/n was wondering about what she should wear to an event like that? A small dress was a necessity but she only had a small black one from her college years. Would it even fit, it's been years since she last put it on? She needed to find her old pair of black pumps from college too, she knew they were deep in her closet. And while she scrubbed and planned her outfit for Friday, Carmen came out of his office and joined her wordlessly, taking the towel from y/n’s hands and scrubbing for her. 

He finally looked up, “I will be by your side the entire time. You can’t go anywhere unless I can see you-”

“What if I have to use the bathroom?” 

“No.” 

“No?”

“What if some sleazy fucker is waiting in the bathroom?”

“I doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.”

“You can't cross the counter.” Y/n wasn’t going to anyways. 

“And I have to drive you home.” That stupefied y/n. 

“What? Why?” 

”What if one of those limp dicked pervs follows you home?”

“Carmen, you’re thinking too much. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“I’m not letting you do this unless-” 

“Alright Carmen. We will do this your way.” Y/n gave him a smile to show that they were good. 

Carmen quickly glanced down and continued scrubbing the floor. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the floor and eventually neither of them could come up with any other excuses to stay together. There is only so much time you can spend scrubbing and organizing an already spotless kitchen.

They both went back to the lockers, grabbed their stuff, did a final walk through, and locked up. Carmen drove her home, y/n said goodbye through the phone and waved out the window. Y/n knew that this routine couldn’t last because she would pick up her car tomorrow morning but she was debating slashing a few tires just to make this last a bit longer. 

The next day y/n came in at 11:30 and was pulled aside by Richie. 

“Is it handled?”

“It's a bartending gig not an assassination. And yes.”

“That bastard said yes?” Shocked didn’t really cover what Richie felt.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “I know you wanna crack a few jokes but he is tethering and I don't want him to-”

“No wise cracks.”

“Also, the crew thinks I'm catering, could you keep the bartending underwraps.”

“Sure thing princess.”

“Do not-”

They were cut off by Fak and y/n took that as her sign to leave. Other than that, the day was exactly the same. The only other difference was that at the end of the night she had to walk to her car with Carmen. 

“You can back out, you know. This debt is my brother's… and now it's mine. You shouldn't get involved in this shit show.”

“Do you feel like you're taking advantage of me?” Carmen didn’t say anything. 

“How about you give me the day off tomorrow and we'll call it even. Paid leave.” 

Carmen smirked, “That's not really even.” 

“I'm giving you less than 24 hours notice and don’t even have a good reason to miss work tomorrow, I'm being a bad employee and you're going to let me get away with it. It seems plenty even to me.” They had ended their night relatively early, it was only 11pm and y/n wanted a few more minutes with Carmen, so she took a few wrong turns. Was that a selfish thing to do?  Yes. But did it feel right? Also, yes. 

They finally “found" her car. Carmen opened the door for her after she unlocked it. Y/n pulled out her parking spot and then drove off. But she didn’t forget to wave out the window and in the rear view window she could see that he was waving back. Y/n drove for a few minutes before double parking in an open street to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. She rolled up her windows and squealed. It felt good to be able to do that after holding it in for the last few days. She composed herself and drove home. 

The next morning was brutal because she had to completely gut her closet to find that black dress and heels. After a few hours she found them in the same box that held her cap and gown. She laid them on her bed and then went to get a haircut. On her way back she saw a tattoo parlor and walked in and asked if they had any temporary tattoos lying around. They found one wedged between some binders, it was a large rose. 

The night was quickly approaching and she had to leave soon. She had finished getting ready and right as she was about to leave she remembered the rose tattoo. Y/n ran to the skin, and peeled her dress up leaving her thigh exposed and placed the rose tattoo there. She grabbed a long black jacket and then she called an uber to take her to The Beef. The jacket covered up her cleavage but her legs were mostly bare and she regretted not wearing a pair of sweats for the commute. 

The restaurant was closed slightly early but it still was pitch black when she got there. Richie and Carmen were finishing up moving chairs and tables. Y/n walked in and the chime alerted them that y/n had arrived. 

“Hey guys. When does the party start? Am I too early?”

Carmen’s face betrayed nothing so she couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Richie smirked, “The band of dickheads are coming in about 20 minutes.” 

“Can I see what the booze situation looks like?” She got a short tour of what the food and drinks situation was going to look like. She hadn’t taken off her jacket because it was still a bit chilly.

“Carmen, can you turn up the heat?” Carmen walked over to the thermostat in his office to adjust it to y/n comfort. With only 5 minutes before the party was supposed to start, y/n thought she might as well take the jacket off.

“I feel a bit out of place, I'm the only one dressed up.” 

Richie gwaffed,” Don’t worry you’ll be in good company with the strippers. Honestly, who's going to know the difference.” Y/n raised a cup of iced water to chuck at Richie.

“Hey, save that for our esteemed guests.” Richie said as he walked as far as possible to avoid getting splashed. 

Just as y/n was about to tell Riche to fuck off, Carmen walked in. He took one look at y/n and spent the next few seconds trying to generate a coherent thought. The first wave of guests came in and Carmen lost his chance to say something but it's not like he could come up with anything marginally comprehensible anyways. In a few hours the party was in full swing. Richie was sitting in the kitchen but the thumping music, the smell of booze, the reverberating sound of obnoxious drunk laughter was giving him a migraine so he went outside for an hours long smoke break, he wondered how Carmen was doing.

Carmen was not doing fine, he was doing horrible. The lights, music, and dancing were making him nauseous. But the thing that really tested his patience was the guys ogling at you. Y/n wasn’t really paying attention to any of the guys but they were getting more and more drunk. 

The room was lit with purple and blue lights and it was difficult to tell what was happening, and even though he knew it was wrong that didn’t stop Carmen from taking a few peeks at y/n back side throughout the night. If the back was rendering him speechless he could only imagine what the front looked like. The thought that these piss pots were seeing her would send him into a blind rage but the fact that each one of them would get hit in the face made it a bit more digestible. 

A guy came up to y/n, and Carmen walked right up to them to know why this fuckhead was talking to her. The groom had asked for the first hurricane shot. Y/n sent him away for a few minutes to give her time to set up. She turned to Carmen and gave him a mischievous smirk. 

“Payback time.” 

Even though they were in a very crowded room, y/n smirk made him forget it. It was a small and private gesture and no one else would be privy to see it. It was just for Carmen and no one else. That made him feel a bit better. 

Y/n and Carmen filled up cups with very cold water just to make it hurt even more. Carmen started to put ice in the water and when y/n saw what he was doing she threw her head back to laugh. The laugh made his heart flutter but the feeling of her hand grasping him to ground herself sent a shiver down his back and it wasn't because both their hands were ice cold now. 

The room was so loud that they needed to come close to the other’s ear just to hear each other.

“You gotta put a bit more ice in this one, Carmen ”

“Who’s getting this special order?” Carmen smirked, he was having fun. 

“The groom of course. Why are you asking a stranger you meet once to slap you across the face when you have a fiancée at home? Also, what kind of sick fuck gets drunk, high, and a hand job from a stripper the week before his wedding? That level of dickbaggary deserves a face full of welts.” Carmen covers his mouth to hide his smirk. 

“It's so tacky and…and…yuck. Hard pass.” 

Carmen took that information and stored it in his vault; no drinking, drugs, or girls of any kind during his future bachelor party. He wasn’t going to do the last two anyways, but he never wanted y/n to feel “yuck” about him so he would sacrifice the alcohol for his own bachelor party. 

“Have you seen the women here? Very pretty.” Y/n teased.

Y/n didn’t really know why she even brought it up, She spent the entire night facing the crowd and got an eye full of many tits and she knows Carmen’s witnessing the same scene.  Being surrounded by a sea of stunning and jaw dropping women had triggered a sense of insecurity within her. Yet, she reminded herself that those women were there to captivate with their beauty, while her role was to serve food and drinks. And to be fair, some of her customers have dropped their jaws after eating her food, balancing the scales of admiration. As such, any lingering immaturity or jealousy dissipated into the air.

The source of unease wasn't the presence of other women, but rather Carmen himself.  Y/n had previously worked at a strip club and hadn't experienced this level of jealousy before. But now, with Carmen by her side, she found herself questioning whether he was comparing her to the other women at the party. Did she even register on his radar amidst the crowd? While their relationship remained strictly that of coworkers and friends, she appreciated that Carmen hadn't abandoned her. However, she couldn't help but feel conflicted about his presence, as she didn't want him to witness the spectacle of beautiful women giving drunk idiots lap dances.

Carmen looked up at her while his head was still bent down filling cups with ice, “Uhh, I haven’t really taken a look.” 

Y/n doubted that but she didn’t want to protest, so she hid her insecurity behind jokes. 

“You should, Mrs. Berzatto could be in this crowd.” 

“I can guarantee you that they are not.” Carmen pushed. Y/n chuckled and Carmen could swear he saw her eyes glow.

“Hey, today has probably been really stressful. You can let go for a bit. You know, blow off some steam. There are plenty of women who would love to give you a lap dance. You know that pretty blond has been eyeing you since she came in.” Y/n pointed in some general direction with a straw but Carmen didn’t even look up from the water cups. 

Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes and was trying to decipher this puzzle she had put in front of him. She was telling him to go and talk to other women and even though her tone, face, and behavior was exactly the same as before, he couldn't shake off a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from her

“I like it here.”

“So you like to watch.” Y/n smirked while turning around to fill a styrofoam cup with sprite from the soda dispenser to cool herself. She was trying to be cool but it was coming off as vaguely threatening, she needed to get her shit together. 

Carmen turned around so he was facing her direction then placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at her with those killer eyes, “Yeah I do.”

“Mr. Berzatto, have you been drinking you’ve gotten, dare I say, bold?”

Carmen raised his eyebrows in a joking manner and y/n could swear that she saw stars glisten in his irises. God, was he handsome or what? 

“I think it's time to get this show on the road.” Y/n turned around to walk around the counter so she could hop on top, she couldn't do it from behind the counter because it was filled with liquor and cups and she would knock everything over. Just as y/n was going to walk out the counter, a muscular arm blocked her from leaving. She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up at his eyes. 

“You promised, you wouldn’t.”

“I can't get to the counter from here…why don’t you walk me over there, so that no one bothers me. Earn your keep bodyguard” Y/n softened her eyes to convince Carmen, and to her surprise he let out a sigh before removing his arm and leading her to the other side of the counter glaring at anyone who even thought about looking at y/n. Y/n’s dress was so tight and short that she couldn’t really get up without flashing everyone. She looked up at Carmen and told him about the situation she was in and how she needed a chair or something. 

Carmen brought his face close to y/n so she could clearly hear, “Can I touch you?”

Holy…mother…of…fuck. Y/n’s brain flat lines and she stumbles out a quick and breathy “yes”. 

Carmen put his hands on her waist and y/n linked her hands behind his neck and just as y/n was about to close the gap, she let out a yelp as she was hoisted onto the counter. She is starstruck, her heart is beating fast and she is resisting the urge to kiss him from up here. She had to remind herself that he was just being helpful. 

"Tattoo?"

Y/n was a mess and she needed a few seconds to understand what he was saying, "It's fake, so that if anyone takes any pictures I can pretend it's not me." It took all of y/n's will power to connect these words together. It was getting hard to think.

Carmen took one more look at y/n stradling the counter before reaching over the counter to grab the same straw y/n used to point at some other women, and lighty dragged it across her knee. 

“Your past the counter, chef” 

Y/n was in a daze, her knee felt like it was on fire and that was just from a straw. She wordlessly got up on her knees and kneeled on the counter. 

Carmen walked right back to behind the counter and passed her a heavy cup.

“For our guest of honor.” Carmen grinned. He was making her lose her breath,  y/n was going to pass out and fall off this counter. 

Y/n took the cup of water and a shot of tequila from Carmen. Their pinkies brushed each other and sent an electric shock up her arm. 

“Make it hurt.” 

Y/n gleamed. She turned towards the crowd and shouted out a short introduction before calling over the groom. She passed him the shot which he downed in record time, y/n shot a quick glance at Carmen, before splashing the water right on his face and just and he slightly relaxed his face from the original impact of the icy water, y/n gave him a loud and painful slap. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and it became silent for a brief second before cheers erupted from the crowd. The noise makes Richie peek his head inside to see what the commotion was about. The groom's face was already bright red from the alcohol and the ice and somehow the right side of his cheek looks like someone painted it scarlet, y/n gave a thumbs up to Carmen, who to her surprise returned one back. A line began to form and while y/n was making everyone pay for being annoying dicks, Carmen called over Richie. 

“Its fucking boiling in here” Carmen commented, “Can you go into my office and turn the thermostat down to like 60-65 and grab my jacket.” Richie looked like he wanted to make some smart comment but the sound of another slap echoing derailed his train of thought.  Richie took one look at y/n, and Carmen wanted to curse him out and punch him across the face, but he refrained. “Richie, the fucking thermostat.”

Richie complained but Carmen wasn’t paying attention and so he left and turned the thermostat down and threw the jacket over the counter.

“When is this shit show supposed to end?” Richie asked while judging the guests in the most unsubtle way possible. 

“Two more hours.” Carmen said while looking at y/n. Richie rolled his eyes and left and Carmen was starting to feel the cold air coming from the air vent on top of them. Y/n was starting to feel chilly too and looked over at Carmen who was already handing her a nice wool jacket, his wool jacket. She slipped it on and Carmen felt like he could finally breathe. He was beating himself for not coming up with something like this sooner. The stupid shots were finished and y/n was ready to come down from the counter. 

“My ass and thighs are numb.” Y/n said while rubbing them. Just as she looked up towards the crowd she saw that Carmen was right next to her ready to help her come down. Y/n was feeling bold, almost invincible from spending the last 30 minutes slapping men. 

“Would you like a shot?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seen a million guys take it, aren’t you curious?” 

Carmen was struggling to come up with something to say, he didn’t even know how to react. “I have to drive you home.” His stare was making y/n feel like she was burning from the inside. 

“A shot of water?” y/n offered. 

Carmen thought to himself, what would he regret more? Taking the shot or not taking it?

He extended his hand towards the water pitcher behind the counter to pour himself a shot of water. Y/n grabbed one of the ice cups and scooped the ice with her left hand and dumped half of the remaining water on the already flooded floor. She wanted to avoid making this as painful as possible. Y/n took off the jacket and set it down on the counter next to her. She tucked her right hand in between her thighs to keep them warm so it would sting a lot less. Carmen took one long look at where her right hand was settled and then locked onto her eyes, 

“Hit me with your best shot, chef.” 

Carmen downed the shot before locking eyes with y/n. Y/n splashed the water on his face and gave him a solid slap. Not as hard as the others were getting but not so soft that she would be accused of chickening out. Carmen’s face whipped to the left before coming back to his previous position. 

“How was that, chef?” 

It must have been the lights or the fatigue but y/n could have sworn that he glanced at her lips. Carmen’s hands circle around y/n waist to bring her down. He carried her a few feet away from where they previously were so that y/n wouldn’t step on the puddle, set her down and walked her back behind the counter. 

“I can understand the appeal.” Carmen murmured. Y/n looked at him incredulously before laughing in shock. 

Y/n was about to tease him a bit before she heard shouting from the crowd. “Do you want to step out? I think I need a break” 

Carmen welcomed a break. He handed y/n his jacket and ushered her outside where Richie was smoking. They had forgotten he was still there.

“It's nauseating in there.” Y/n exhaled. 

Carmen pulled out a cigarette in an effort to calm down. They were no longer in a party where they could pretend they had no outside obligations. He had pushed the bounds of their relationship and he wondered if the lights, music, alcohol, and seclusion together was only affecting him. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Y/n crouched down because her feet were killing her. She could feel the blisters forming but she was going to be a trooper. All she wanted to do was lay down. Carmen crouched down to match her height and raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong. 

“I need to go to bed.” 

“20 minutes left. You can wait in the car and get some rest. I can cover for you.” 

“I need to see this place after it’s cleared out. I think I forgot what it looked like before we had it packed with drunk chodes.” That earned her a snicker from both Carmen and Richie. 

A sense of tranquil silence enveloped them, providing y/n with a much-needed opportunity to gather her thoughts. She realized that she had to prevent herself from getting lost in the overwhelming depth of Carmen's presence. It was becoming clear that she had two choices: either distance herself from him entirely or bridge the gap between them, instead of remaining in their current state of avoidance, where everything seemed to be ignored.

Just as she was about to turn over to Carmen to ask him if he was free tomorrow night, a loud thump was heard inside the restaurant followed by a crash. Next came the screaming. Y/n and Carmen stood up and looked inside the window to see what got Richie to rush inside.

“Shit” Carmen exclaimed before running inside to stop the groomsmen from fighting. A wave of women ran out. Y/n didn’t go inside till the noise died down, she knew she would just get in the way. She pushed the door open and saw some guy laying on the ground with a bloody head. She scrambled to find a towel from the counter and then applied pressure on his head. Carmen had already called 911 and Richie was just staring with his eyes wide and hand on his head. 

The next few hours were a blur. The ambulance picked up the guy that was knocked out. The police came and took Richie, and everyone else was either taken by police for questioning or they left for the cops to get there. 

Y/n and Carmen were the only ones left standing on the pavement with little to no energy left. It felt like their bones were the only things holding them upright. Y/n didn’t have the energy to fill the empty space. So the trick to shutting her mouth was being tired, she could save herself from a lifetime of embarrassment by working herself to the bone so she wouldn’t have the energy to make a fool of herself. 

She started snickering which slowly devolved to full laughter, she held on to Carmen’s arm to steady herself. Y/n from 5 hours ago would never have touched Carmen under any circumstances unless he initiated it first but she was losing it. She was starting to feel light, like this wasn’t real. Like she didn’t see Richie bash some fucker’s skull in. Or that she spent the last few hours flirting with her boss just for nothing to come from it. Carmen could only just watch. 

“Let's get you home.” Carmen slowly ushered her towards his car. 

Y/n laughter died down. “I can’t go home, not with Richie in jail.” 

“You need some sleep” 

“And you don’t? Where are you going after this? Visiting Richie?” Carmen didn’t reply or look up at her.

Y/n went back inside, grabbed her black jacket and ran as fast as her shitty heels and blisters would let her. 

"I'm ready," y/n exclaimed with determination, taking confident strides towards Carmen's car. Carmen watched, momentarily transfixed and still processing the whirlwind of the past few hours. Y/n had laughed heartily as a coping mechanism, but inside, Carmen felt a deep sense of anguish, fearing the possibility of losing yet another loved one. He yearned to join in the laughter, knowing he couldn't do it without y/n by his side. Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly jogged over to where y/n stood, matching her pace as they proceeded towards the car together.

The car ride was silent, as both of them were fighting the urge to sleep. They got to the police station and y/n was so out of it she barely understood what groomsman status was and what would happen to Richie when the police officer explained it to her and Carmen. They were led to a seating area where they had to wait. Carmen threw his body on the bench and y/n followed suit. It was chilly and Carmen was wearing a shirt, so she slowly slipped off the jacket to hand it over. She felt firm pressure on her shoulders preventing her from bringing the jacket down.

“Keep it on, it's cold here” Carmen muttered. 

“I have a jacket” 

“It's too light.” Carmen’s eyes were drooping. Y/n sat back on the bench and tried to sleep sitting down but it wasn’t working. Carmen’s eyes were already closed so she shifted on the bench and laid her head on his lap. 

Once Carmen had confirmed she was fully asleep, he draped her thin black jacket over her legs and floated into unconsciousness. 

Carmen was shaken awake and woke up in a jolt. He eye’s meet Richie’s and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

“Aggravated Assault.” 

Carmen let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

Carmen wanted to get up but he saw that y/n was laying on his lap. He gently slipped out from under her and carried her on his back to his car. He did his very best to ignore everytime that she dug her face deeper into his neck but he was still beet red when he gently placed her in the backseat and put her seatbelt on. 

Richie watched but didn’t have any motivation to say anything but a simple, “You got yourself a girlfriend, Carmy?”

“We’ll see when she wakes up.” 

--

Part 2

[nats-firefly]

the bet

sorority!wandanat x reader

summary: tri delta and delta nu have a bet, you get caught in the cross fire

warnings: power bottom!wandanat, choking, smut 18+ only

a/n: repost! they're back

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

words: 2.7 k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

Delta Nu and Tri Delta were known as the rival sororities on campus. Always the two every girl wanted to get into, the two to raise the most funds for whatever cause and the two who were always at each other’s throats. One week, the heads of the two sororities met and made a bet. Celibacy week. The house that broke first would have to give up their summer funding for parties, only relying on future fundraisers for party budget.

Usually, these bets wouldn’t affect you all that much. You even liked them sometimes, Natasha would get especially frustrated when things didn’t go her way and she would always come to her trusty roommate for some… stress relief.

But this bet, this bet sucked. 

Not only was Natasha extremely sexually frustrated and on edge, but you had also found yourself becoming dependant on both Natasha and Wanda for your own stress relief. And now neither of them could come to your aid.

You tried though. And you were persistent. But Natasha is a more determined when she’s pissed off. And there was nothing that pissed her off more than having to share you. She noticed how much you would be on your phone and how you spent more and more time out of the apartment, and how your dirty laundry would have the faint smell Natasha recognized from meetings with Delta Nu.

You snaked your hands onto Natasha’s hips, pressing her between your body and the counter, making sure the outline of the silicone toy between your legs was clearly felt through your sweatpants. Natasha whimpered, her hips subconsciously pressing back against you. She turned around in your hold, her hand coming up to grip your throat and pull you towards her.

You turned her towards the kitchen island, hooking your hands under her thighs and propping her up. Her fingers pressed the sides of your throat and you moaned into her mouth, your lips moving perfectly against each other. She bucked her hips closer to the edge, feeling your cool fingertips sliding up her thigh. 

All of a sudden, Natasha clenched her thighs shut, trapping your hand between her thighs as she pushed you away from her with clenched eyes. Her hand loosened its grip on your throat as your other hand slid down her leg. 

“I can’t let her win this too,” You tilted your head, about to ask her what she meant when she hopped down from the counter, giving you a peck on the cheek before walking into her room. 

You frustratedly closed the door to your room, plopping down on your bed and pulling out your phone, starting to text the only other woman who could tend to your needs at the moment.

it’s just a stupid bet, what’s the big deal? nobody has to know, wanda

You rolled your eyes, waiting patiently for the three little dots to appear.

did you forget you live with one of them 

she has a name you know

whatever it is, no. I can’t.

I’ll get rid of her, please?

Wanda tapped her fingertips against her table, biting her lip in concentration. She huffed out a sigh, typing out a half-assed excuse, part of her already thinking of what she’d wear to your place. 

if this fucks up my chances as delta nu president next year i’m holding you personally responsible get rid of her

You got up from your bed, grabbing your wallet and pulling out a twenty dollar bill. You walked to Natasha’s bedroom, knocking on the door before you heard her voice telling you to come in.

“Do you wanna do me a favor?” You asked, scratching the back of your neck as you sat on her bed. She scrolled further down the online store’s website, clicking on a bodycon dress. She hummed, encouraging you to keep talking. “Can you go to the store and grab ice cream?”

“Why do I have to go?”

“Well, you’ve got all this pent up energy you can’t release right? Jog to the store.”

She hummed and stopped scrolling, turning her chair to your direction. You offered her the twenty dollar bill and she snatched it away from your hands. “Fine.”

“Thanks,” You smiled, getting up from her bed and making your way back to your room. Natasha found it odd but didn’t think about it too much. She put on her running shoes and slung a fanny pack over her shoulder before heading out the door, leaving your twenty dollar bill on the counter. 

You heard the front door click shut and quickly texted Wanda.

she’s jogging to the store, you have like twenty minutes to get here

Wanda stood up out of her desk, sliding off her sweatpants and stepping into tight yoga pants. She packed her laptop and notebooks into her bag and walked out the door, grabbing a baseball cap before she left the house. She walked to your apartment and was there ten minute later, trying to ignore the smug smirk on your face as you ushered her into your bedroom.

You closed the door and pushed Wanda against the wooden surface, bringing her lips onto yours. She closed her eyes, getting lost in the feeling of your lips against hers while her bag slid down her arm to rest gently on the floor. She caught herself when your hands started drifting up her sweater, making her push you back onto your bed. You fell backwards, propping yourself up on your elbows as she straddled your lap. 

“You don’t get to call the shots today,” She gripped your hair and brought your lips back onto hers, her tongue moving against yours in a heated kiss. Your hands came to rest on her ass, making her buck hips into you and fuck, this was a bad idea. 

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop,” You smirked up at her, making her grip your chin and push you into the bed, rolling her eyes as she got off your lap. 

“I do,” She groaned, standing up again and moving to her back on the floor bringing it to the bed. “I even brought work to do.”

“You never stop, do you?” You asked, as she sat against the headboard, looking at you while she type on her computer and you pulled out your video game controller. 

“If I did, I wouldn’t become president of Delta Nu next year,” She said, the sound her her nails clicking on the keys echoing in your ears.

“Easy there, champ, don’t your sisters have to elect you?” You joked as you clicked away on your controller, eyes glued to the screen on the wall.

“Yeah, but I’m not worried about that,” She said, her eyes drifting to the way your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and your fingers flexed so easily around the controller. It all sent a wave of arousal straight to her core.

Wanda pushed her laptop off her lap, the crawled over to you, pushing your controller aside and straddling your hips once again. 

“Ready to break the rules, Madam President?”

“The rule is I can’t have sex,” She said, bringing her lips onto yours. “Nobody said anything about touching.”

She gripped your wrists and led them under her shirt, making you smirk against her mouth. Her soft moans filled your ears and vibrated through your body, your fingertips pressing harder against the soft skin of her chest. Your lips trailed down her neck, her hands gripping onto your hair as she arched into you. You flipped her over onto the bed, kneeling between her thighs and continuing to kiss down her body.

Wanda moaned as she felt the shape of your strap press against her. Her fingernails dug into your scalp as you sucked on her skin, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to leave Wanda wanting more. 

Wanda felt her desperation heighten, feeling like maybe, just maybe she would break the bet. Just as she was about to start tugging your shirt up your body, your head picked up, hearing Natasha open the door to the apartment. You looked at Wanda, a smirk tugging on your lips as you kissed up to her ear, softly shushing her.

“We have to be quiet now, angel,” You said, bringing her lips back onto yours. She continued kissing you, her eyes bursting open when the idea popped into her head. If she wanted anything with you tonight, she was gonna have to share you with Natasha. 

But Wanda couldn’t just bring this up, and she wouldn’t be able to wait another day, celibacy week was almost over. She had to act now. And it had to be Natasha’s idea. Wanda started whining against your lips, at first softly, but getting increasingly louder.

Natasha walked through the door, stopping at the fridge to grab a water bottle as she caught her breath. She removed her earphones and moved closer to you door, hearing shuffling and muffled whining from the other side of the door. 

“I’m back from the store,” She called through the door, making you pull away from Wanda and place your hand over the brunette’s mouth.

“Uhmm, you can put the ice cream in the freezer, I’ll get it late-OUCH!” You hissed at the sharp pain on your fingers, turning your gaze back to Wanda who had a grin on her face and she gripped your forearm over her shirt.

“Is everything okay?” Natasha said, walking into your room. She froze at the sight in front if her: Wanda pinned underneath you, one of your hands under her shirt while the other hovered above her mouth. The redhead’s eyebrows raised and a smug grin graced her features. “What do we have here.”

You pulled yourself off Wanda and walked over to Natasha gripping her hips and turning her around, pushing her towards the door. “We didn’t do anything, she didn’t lose the bet.”

Natasha stopped in her movements, all the pent up frustration she jogged off immediately returning. If anyone was gonna tiptoe around the grey area of the bet with you, it was gonna be her. There was no way in hell she would let Wanda have you all to herself. She turned around to face you before her gaze drifted to Wanda, who was still laying on the bed, her gaze completely locked onto Natasha. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” She simply said. Natasha’s lips turned upwards, her hands immediately pushing you back into your room. 

“Now we just gotta make sure you keep your mouth shut,” Natasha’s eyes locked onto yours, the back of your legs finally reaching the bed, making you fall back on it. Wanda kneeled next to you, standing over you next to Natasha as you propped yourself up on your elbows. 

“You guys make it seem like you both weren’t practically begging me to fuck you earlier today,” You rolled your eyes, watching the two girls look over you like you were the last meal on Earth. Wanda rolled her eyes, leaning over and gripping your chin.

“Let’s put that mouth to better use,” Wanda shuffled off the bed, sliding her pants down her legs along with her underwear, Natasha quickly following her movements. Wanda was about to climb back onto the bed, but Natasha held her back, making the brunette look at her with a frown.

“I live here, I get to call dibs on her face,” The redhead said, moving her body up to your face. Wanda rolled her eyes, grabbing the hem of your sweatpants and pulling them down your body, revealing her favorite red strap. 

“You tell another living soul about this and you’re moving out,” Natasha lowered her pussy onto your mouth before you had a chance to answer, her hips rolling onto your face as you stuck your tongue out. Natasha’s fingers gripped onto your hair, angling your head back as she bucked her hips onto you. Wanda groaned as she sunk down onto the toy between your legs, you could feel her weight shift on your hips as she bounced on your strap, your hands gripping the back of her knees and pulling her closer.

Wanda moaned, her nails digging into the skin of your stomach as she steadied herself. The stinging sensation made you moan into Natasha, the vibrations moving through her body and making her thighs squeeze around your head. They started off with a terrible pace, the two bucking their hips at the worst moments together. Your hands gripped Natasha’s hips as you pushed your strap deeper into Wanda, briefly halting her movements. Wanda screamed out in pleasure, the tip of the strap pressing against the perfect spot while you rolled Natasha’s hips onto your face, keeping your eyes on her as she contorted her face in pleasure.

Wanda and Natasha settled into the perfect pace, working off each other and making you groan in pleasure every now and then. Natasha pressed down onto your face, her arousal already dripping down your chin. Wanda whined, desperately bucking her hips, trying to reach her high, but not quite getting there. 

“Do you need a little help, sweetheart?” Natasha cooed condescendingly at the brunette, making Wanda more frustrated than she already was. You lifted you chin up, sucking Nat’s clit into your mouth, making her body shudder. Natasha lifted herself off you, before turning around and straddling your face once again. You circled your thumbs onto Wanda’s legs, as she continued moving against you. Natasha gripped her chin and brought their lips together, her hands moving town to Wanda’s chest, tweaking her nipples as you pumped the toy deeper into Wanda.

One of Natasha’s hands moved up to Wanda’s throat, lightly squeezing the sides as she pulled away from the brunette. She moaned, bucking her hips faster against your face as you reached up to her hips and pressed her hips down onto you as you sucked on her clit. “Cum with me, Wanda.”

You felt Wanda’s arousal soak the strap just as Natasha’s hips stilled and her body shook over you, her orgasm washing over her like waves. Wanda brought their lips together once again, both girls using your body to ride out their orgasms, hair clinging to their skin as the caught their breath. 

You licked Natasha clean before she pulled away from your face, letting you sit up and lift Wanda off you. Natasha moved off the bed to look for her underwear, ready to leave like she usually did after the two of you had your time. You leaned Wanda against the headboard, bringing your lips to hers then kissing down her body, the brunette’s hands entangling in your hair as your buried your head between her thighs, carefully running your tongue through her sensitive folds. 

Natasha watched as you cared for Wanda the same way you would care for her, feeling a pang of jealousy course through her at Wanda’s soft laughter as you came up and kissed her cheek. Wanda moved to the side, allowing you to settle agains the headboard before she settled next to you, curling to your side. 

“Uhm,” Natasha felt embarrassed watching, a prominent shade of pink gracing her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “I’ll uh-”

“You can stay if you want,” Wanda said, pulling the blanket on the other side of you down, as you focused you attention on the tv. 

“She’s right,” You said, secretly hoping neither woman noticed how much you desperately hoped she would. 

“Okay,” Natasha leaned against the headboard, arms crossed over her chest as she focused her attention at the tv. You nudged her shoulder, the motioned for her to inch closer, making her roll her eyes but moved closer nonetheless. 

The three of your comfortably watched cartoons and talked for another few hours, not able to keep your hands to each other for most of the time. It was around 2 am when you finally closed your eyes, Natasha laying unconscious curled to your side. Wanda drew patters on your skin with her fingertips, the reflection of the tv glimmer bouncing off your phone catching her attention. She waited another few episodes to make sure you were both asleep before reaching over and snapping a picture before sending it to herself and deleting it off your phone. 

She fell asleep with a smug smirk on her features, thinking she had the upper hand. What she didn’t know was that the following morning Natasha would do the same thing, snapping a picture of Wanda laying naked with you before tiptoeing her way out of your room to get ready for class.

And yeah, they both were still at each other’s throats, but maybe this bet wasn’t so bad after all.

[dystopic-view]

Roommate wanted

Geto x fem/afab reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Suguru Geto, a quiet college student, rents out a room in his small apartment, and when you move in, things start off distant. But over a shared love for music and some late-night conversation, unexpected sparks fly. As the tension builds, you're left wondering where this connection might take you both.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: fluff, college au, roommate au, slow burn, tension, chemistry, first kiss

𝐖.𝐂: 4.7K

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: this story has a part 2. make sure you read it after. ♡

You were walking down the street with a sense of growing anticipation, the soft crunch of fallen leaves under your feet filling the silence.

The address on your phone matched the worn number above the door of a small apartment building.

You double checked it, even though you already knew it was right.

The place looked exactly like the kind of thing you'd expect from a college student renting out a room.

Small, slightly old, but with a certain charm.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the building's creaky front door and climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Your heartbeat raced slightly when you reached the apartment door.

Apartment 2B, the one in the ad you responded to.

You wondered what Suguru Geto would be like.

His texts had been short, almost dismissive.

Just some details about the apartment, none of the pleasantries you usually exchange when meeting new people.

Not unfriendly, but not exactly welcoming either.

You knocked, and a few moments later, the door opened.

He stood there, tall and composed, with dark eyes that flickered over you for a split second before he stepped aside without a word, letting you inside.

There was something about him that felt... distant.

Like he was letting you into his space but not into his world.

“Come in,” he said, his voice low and monotone.

He didn’t bother with small talk, just gestured toward the room down the hall. "It's this way."

The silence persisted as you followed him, and you wondered if he was always that quiet.

Or if it was just you.

You followed him through the narrow hallway, your eyes scanning the walls, which were pretty empty except for a few scuffed patches and an old calendar hanging slightly crooked on a hook.

It wasn’t even the right month.

Or year.

The apartment felt minimal, like he only occupied it because he had to.

You couldn’t help but notice how little there was to fill in the empty space.

No photos, no decorations, nothing.

It was the kind of place you imagined someone living in, but not really living with.

The room he was renting out was small, with a single window that let in the tiniest amount of sunlight.

Not a lot of furniture either.

You spotted a bed, a desk, a small bookshelf with a few scattered textbooks, and a closet that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years.

It smelled faintly of old paper and the incense he must have burned at some point.

You wondered if he had been living there for a long time or if this was just a temporary stop for him, like it might’ve been for you.

Geto stood by the door, his arms loosely crossed over his chest.

He watched you as you took in the room, his expression unreadable, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was sizing you up.

Not in a judgmental way, but more like he was deciding whether you’d fit into his lifestyle.

“This is it,” he said, breaking the silence but still not offering any extra words. “If you’re still interested, we can talk rent.”

You turned to face him, and his eyes were as calm as they were when he opened the door. There was something cold in his demeanor, like he’d already decided to keep you at arm’s length.

It didn’t feel exactly rude, but it was far from friendly.

He was more like a wall than a person, but you found yourself wondering what was on the other side of said wall.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you replied, a little uncertain if that’s what he wanted to hear.

“Good,” he said, turning back toward the hall. "Kitchen’s shared. Bathroom, too. No pets." His voice was so quiet, you almost didn’t hear the last part.

You followed him out of the room and back into the main area of the apartment.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, the light from the window reflecting in his dark hair as he pushed it away from his face.

For a moment, you thought he was going to say something else.

Maybe something more personal.

But he just glanced at you again, this time with a speck of what might’ve been impatience.

“Any questions?” he asked, but the way he said it made it sound like he was hoping you didn’t have any.

You stood there for a moment, taking in the space again.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

There was a good kind of solitude to it, and that felt right.

Despite Geto's indifference, or maybe because of it, you found yourself more interested in living there than you'd expected.

“I’m interested,” you said firmly, as if trying to cut through the space between you.

He nodded, barely reacting. “Good. You can move in whenever. Rent’s due at the end of the month. No parties, no loud music. I won’t bother you, and I expect the same.”

He paused in the middle of his sentence, but it didn't feel uncomfortable.

You figured that was just how he was.

Blunt, to the point.

“I can move in tomorrow,” you offered, hoping it would fit his schedule.

You were eager to get settled, to make that room yours and see what it felt like to live in a space so quiet, with someone like him.

He glanced at you, and for a second, his expression softened.

Not by much, but enough that you caught it. “Tomorrow’s fine. I’ll be around. Just text me before you get here.”

You nodded, grateful that he didn’t make it complicated.

He pushed off the counter and headed toward the door.

The conversation was over, apparently, but to be fair, there was nothing left to say anyway. He opened the door, waiting for you to step out, and you did.

“See you tomorrow, then,” you said, looking back one last time.

He simply nodded again, his hand resting lightly on the door, ready to close it the moment you left.

The next day came faster than you expected.

Before you knew it, you were standing in that same hallway again, boxes in your arms and the smell of a fresh start in the air.

Geto didn’t offer to help as you moved in.

You didn’t expect him to either way.

You unpacked in silence, the only sound being the quiet rustling of your clothes and belongings finding their places.

The room was small but quickly became cozy once you started filling it with your things.

A couple of posters, your own books now adorning the bookshelf, and your comfy bedding draped over the worn mattress.

The window let in the soft afternoon light, bathing the room in a warm, golden hue.

You caught yourself glancing at the door every now and then, half expecting Geto to appear. Maybe to say something, anything.

But he didn’t.

The apartment was eerily quiet, as if the two of you existed in completely separate worlds, despite sharing the same walls.

You didn’t mind it, though.

In fact, there was something strangely calming about the way he left you alone, as if the space was yours and yours alone the moment you stepped inside.

Still, you wondered how long that would last.

You were sitting on your knees on the floor of your new room, surrounded by half unpacked boxes.

Your fingers worked through a stack of CDs, pulling them out one by one.

You glanced at the covers, and stacked them in a neat pile beside you.

Deftones, System of a Down, Incubus, the soundtrack to your teenage years and beyond, still just as good as you remembered.

It’s funny how music can make a place feel like home.

As you sorted through the albums, you heard footsteps approaching outside your door. Glancing up, you caught sight of Geto passing by in the hallway.

He didn't say anything, just walked by casually, quiet and almost ghost-like in his movements.

But then, he paused.

His gaze shifted to the CDs in your hands, and his eyes lingered on the familiar band names.

For a moment, you thought he would just keep walking after staring you down, but then he leaned against the doorframe, his expression unreadable as usual. “You listen to Deftones?” His voice was calm, but there was a hint of curiosity in it.

You looked up, a little surprised he was even speaking to you about anything other than apartment logistics.

“Yeah,” you reply, holding up Koi no Yokan. “This is my favorite album.”

He nodded, and for the first time, you spotted an expression of interest flickering across his face. “Good choice.”

His eyes scanned the other CDs. “System of a Down, too. You’re into heavier stuff.”

You shrugged, smiling a little. “Guess you could say that. I grew up on it.”

Geto stayed quiet for a moment, like he was considering something.

Then, almost casually, he adds, “I play bass.”

It was a simple statement, but the way he said it made it feel like it mattered the world, like he was letting you in on a small part of himself. “Used to play in a few bands before. Nothing serious.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, intrigued now. “What kind of music?”

“Mostly metal, alternative,” he replied, his voice still low but a little less distant. “We covered a lot of Deftones back then.”

His eyes met yours for a brief moment before they drifted back to the pile of CDs, almost like he was inspecting your music taste. “Their bass lines are good. Heavy, but they know when to shift into something calmer.”

You nodded, leaning back on your hands, feeling more at ease as the conversation went on. “Yeah, they’re one of those bands that really know how to blend that heaviness with something more melodic.”

He watched you carefully, as if weighing your words. “You get it.”

It was a quiet compliment, but you caught it.

He shifted his weight slightly, still leaning against the doorframe, but his posture was more relaxed now, less guarded.

“You play?” he asked, the curiosity now more apparent in his tone.

“Nah,” you shook your head. “I wish. I just listen. Music’s always been kind of an escape for me.”

He nodded slowly, like it was something he could relate to but didn’t want to admit outright. “Same.”

There was a long pause, but once again, it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

Just two people sharing a moment.

He glanced back at the CDs. “I’ve got some records you might like... if you ever want to listen. Just let me know.”

It was a simple offer, but coming from him, it felt like a door opening, just a crack.

The distant, almost cold guy you met the day before was still there, but there was something more now.

Something curious, maybe even intriguing.

“Thanks,” you said, your smile soft but genuine. “I might take you up on that offer.”

He nodded again, pushing off the doorframe.

His usual quiet demeanor returned, but he didn’t feel distant anymore. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything,” he said, his tone a bit softer than before, and then he turned, disappearing down the hall as silently as he came.

You sat there for a while after he left, thinking about the brief conversation.

It wasn’t much, but it was more than you expected from him.

But it felt like the start of something.

Later that evening, the apartment was still quiet, with only the sound of simmering food in the kitchen to break the silence.

You stood at the stove, stirring a pot of pasta, your thoughts drifting back to the conversation with Geto earlier.

There was something about the way he opened up, even if only slightly, that stuck with you. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to leave an impression.

You looked over at the other pan on the stove, where you’d been sautéing vegetables, purposefully making more than you usually would.

You had decided to cook extra tonight, partly as a gesture of thanks, partly out of curiosity to see if he’d accept.

You didn’t know much about him yet, but you figured he didn't often share meals with others.

As you finished plating the food, you walked to his door and knocked softly.

A few seconds passed, and then Geto opened it, looking at you with mild surprise.

“Hey,” you said, holding up the extra plate. “I made too much, and thought you might want some. As a thank you, for, you know, the records offer.”

His dark eyes flickered between the plate and your face, and for a second, you thought he was going to decline.

But then his expression softened and he nodded.

“Thanks.” It was a simple word, but there was a subtle gratitude in his tone that felt more significant coming from him.

You both sat at the small kitchen table, the clinking of silverware against plates the only sound at first.

The room was dimly lit, warm and intimate in a way you hadn’t expected.

A bottle of wine sat between you, something you’d opened on impulse, unsure if Geto would even drink, but hoping he might.

He took a sip of his wine, glancing at you from across the table. “I wasn’t expecting this,” he admitted quietly, his voice less distant than usual.

You smiled, pushing a piece of pasta around your plate. “Just thought it’d be nice. Plus, I wanted to hear more about your band days.”

A small, almost invisible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not much to tell. We were just a group of guys who liked heavy music and played wherever we could. Nothing special.”

“Still,” you said, leaning forward a little, “it’s something. I mean, playing Deftones covers? You must’ve been pretty good.”

He shrugged, but there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. “We weren’t bad. Mostly local gigs. You know the vibe. Late nights, bad quality equipment, sometimes a crowd of five, sometimes fifty. It was… chaotic, but it felt right back then.”

You poured another glass of wine and offered to fill his back up.

He nodded, pushing his glass toward you, and the conversation started to flow a little easier with each sip.

“I used to go to shows like that,” you told him, remembering the thrill of small, intimate venues packed with people who loved the same music. “There’s something about those kinds of performances. They’re raw, you know?”

Geto’s gaze shifted toward you, and for the first time, you noticed a spark of enthusiasm behind his calm exterior. “That’s what I liked about it. You’re not playing for money or fame. You’re playing for the energy, for the people who are there because they actually care about your music.”

You nodded, completely in agreement with what he was saying. “Exactly. That connection, even with just a few people in the crowd… it’s powerful.”

He was silent for a moment, sipping his wine and staring down at his plate, then looked up at you. “It’s rare to find someone who gets that.”

You could tell there was a deeper meaning behind his words.

Maybe it wasn’t just about the music.

Maybe it was about people in general, about how rare it was for him to connect with someone in that way.

The rest of the dinner passed in a comfortable flow, the two of you talking about music, favorite bands, and even a few old concert stories.

His quiet, guarded demeanor loosened just a little, and though he still wasn’t the most talkative person, he was fully immersed in the conversation, listening to you, and offering glimpses into his own experiences.

By the time the meal was over, the wine bottle sat empty, and the apartment felt warmer, cozier.

Geto leaned back in his chair, glancing at the clock. “I should cook for you next time,” he said, his tone soft but genuine.

You laughed lightly, the suggestion catching you off guard. “I won’t forget that.”

He let out a faint smile, the kind you could almost miss if you weren’t looking for it.

As you cleared the dishes, you felt like something between you had shifted.

Just a little.

But enough to make the apartment feel less like a temporary place to crash and more like the beginning of something.

As you gathered the plates and set them in the sink, the atmosphere in the apartment felt different.

The low lighting casted a soft, hazy glow over the room, and there was an unspoken shift in the air between you and Geto.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye as you finished rinsing the dishes.

He was still sitting at the table, his fingers tracing the rim of his empty wine glass, his expression calm but his gaze thoughtful, like he was lingering on something unsaid.

You wiped your hands on a towel and turned to face him, leaning against the counter, your mind buzzing a little from the wine.

He met your eyes for a moment, and you could feel it.

It was subtle, but you could sense a tension that wasn’t there before, like the wine had dissolved the barrier between you.

His usual cold distance felt thinner, like you had broken through just enough to see the person underneath.

“You sure you don’t want another drink?” you asked, a playful tone in your voice, even though you both knew the wine had already done its job.

Geto smirked faintly, something you hadn’t seen him do yet. “I think we’ve had enough,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

You crossed your arms and leaned back against the counter, watching him, feeling the space between you shrink even though neither of you had moved.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged now, thick with something unspoken.

The conversation about music faded into the background, replaced by the quiet awareness between you.

“You’re different,” he said suddenly, catching you off guard.

His eyes were on you, steady and intense, like he was seeing you in a new light.

You blinked, the words sinking in. “Different how?”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze not leaving yours. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and there was something almost vulnerable in the way he said it. “You just... don’t seem like most people.”

You could feel your heart race a little, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you.

You swallowed, trying to keep your tone light, even though the tension was palpable now. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He didn’t smile, but his eyes softened a little. “It is.”

For a moment, you both just looked at each other, and the quiet between you stretched into something electric.

The room felt smaller, more intimate, the wine having stripped away some of the walls that had been there before.

You could see it in the way he was watching you.

You moved closer to the table, taking a seat across from him again, and neither of you spoke.

The silence between you stretched on, but it was no longer awkward.

It was heavy, like you were both waiting for the next move, unsure of where that subtle tension might lead.

Geto leaned back in his chair, his eyes flickering to yours, and there was a beat of hesitation before he finally said, “I don’t usually do this.”

You tilted your head slightly, intrigued. “Do what?”

He looked at you, and for the first time since you’ve met, there was a speck of hesitation in his calm exterior. “Talk to people like this. It’s... different.”

The words hang between you, and you couldn’t help but feel the underlying meaning.

He didn’t let people in, not easily, and yet there you were, sitting together after sharing dinner and a bottle of wine, and somehow, you had found a way through his walls.

You felt it too, this strange pull between you.

“I don’t usually either,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “But tonight feels... different.”

He nodded, his eyes still locked on yours, and the room seemed to shrink even more, the tension almost touchable now.

The wine had left you bolder than usual, and the quiet weight of his gaze sent a flutter of nerves through you.

You shifted slightly in your seat, your heart beating faster, feeling the unspoken tension between you both building, moment by moment.

You stood up, breaking the heavy silence, and walked over to the sink, ready to tackle the dishes.

The warm water ran over your hands, and you tried to focus on the task at hand, but the tension from the dinner lingered in the air, thick and palpable.

You could feel Geto’s gaze on you as you scrubbed the plates, the silence stretching between you, charged with an energy that was almost electric.

After a few moments, you glanced back at him, catching him watching you with that same intensity.

His expression was contemplative, and you wondered what was going through his mind.

There was a softness in his eyes now, something that felt both inviting and intimidating.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said finally, his voice low and steady, breaking the silence.

You smiled a little, glancing down at the soapy water. “It’s no problem. I don’t mind.”

The sound of the dishes clinking together filled the silence, but it only increased your awareness of him being there, just watching you…

Geto pushed himself off the table and took a few steps closer, and you could feel the air change as he moved into your space. “Still,” he insisted, a hint of warmth creeping into his tone. “You don’t have to.”

His proximity sent a rush of adrenaline through you, and you found yourself pausing, the dish in your hand forgotten as you looked up at him.

There was something in his expression, a mix of curiosity and uncertainty, and it pulled you in.

“Maybe I want to,” you replied, your voice soft.

You returned his gaze, feeling a connection building, something beyond the music, beyond the shared dinner.

He stepped closer, leaning against the counter beside you. “Why do you want to?” His question was sincere, and there was a hint of vulnerability in it that made your heart race.

You took a breath, trying to find the right words. “Because it feels good to connect with someone,” you admitted, the honesty surprising you. “And I guess I’m just… curious about you.”

The tension in the room thickened, the air heavy with unsaid words.

He watched you, his dark eyes searching yours, and you felt the world around you fade away.

It’s just the two of you, standing there in the dim light of the kitchen.

You moved closer, the distance between you shrinking as you continued to hold his gaze. “What about you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you curious about?”

Geto’s breath hitched slightly, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

It felt like the room was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Finally, he leaned in a fraction closer, his eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “You.”

You couldn’t hold back a smile, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you.

The air crackled with tension as he closed the gap, his presence wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

And then, in a sudden rush, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss was soft at first, slow, as if he was testing the waters.

Your heart raced as you responded, leaning into him, deepening the kiss as the warmth of his body drew you closer.

It was electric, igniting something deep within you, and you felt a surge of emotions as you wrapped your arms around his neck, losing yourself in the moment.

He responded equally, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer, as if he was finally allowing himself to let go.

The world outside faded away, the kitchen lights dimming into the background as you both explored this new connection.

It felt like the walls between you had crumbled, leaving nothing but that perfect moment making time stop.

The kiss deepened as you pressed yourself closer to Geto, the warmth of his body melding with yours.

His hands slid up your back, pulling you into him with a gentle but firm hold.

The intensity of the moment made your heart race faster, the quiet hum of the kitchen and the soft splashing of the water fading into the distance.

You were fully aware of every sensation.

The way his lips moved against yours, the slight stubble of his jaw grazing your skin, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

Geto’s fingers trailed up your neck, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss.

His touch was careful but insistent, a mix of tenderness and need.

You responded eagerly, your own hands exploring the contours of his shoulders, your fingers tangling in his long black hair.

He broke the kiss briefly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes.

You could spot a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, and you could see the uncertainty mixing up with the intensity.

He leaned in again, and this time the kiss was even more passionate.

The pressure of his lips against yours was a sweet, intoxicating sensation, and you completely lost yourself in the moment,

His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing lightly against your cheek.

Your hands slid up his arms, feeling the strength in his muscles as you pulled him closer.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your faces flushed and eyes bright with shared intensity.

You could see the emotions swirling in his eyes.

A combination of relief and surprise.

Geto’s hands remained on your face, his thumbs gently stroking your skin as he looked at you, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I didn’t expect this,” he admitted, his voice soft.

You returned his smile, your own eyes reflecting the same mixture of feelings. “Neither did I,” you said, your voice warm with the lingering glow of the kiss. “But I’m not mad it happened.”

He nodded, the smile lingering on his lips as he leaned in for one more gentle kiss, this time a sweet, lingering peck that sealed the moment.

When he pulled back, his expression was more open, more relaxed.

The kitchen felt even cozier now, the tension replaced with a newfound closeness.

You both stood there for a while, savoring the intimacy of the moment, letting the connection settle between you.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and genuine.

It’s a sound that makes you feel more at ease, more connected. “I don’t usually let people in,” he admitted, his voice still quiet but with a hint of warmth. “But you... you’ve managed to do that.”

You looked at him, the intensity of the moment softening into something more comfortable. “It wasn’t intentional,” you said with a gentle laugh. “I just wanted to share a meal and get to know you better. Didn’t expect it to turn into this.”

“Well,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours, “I guess this is a good start.”

You chuckled, “Yeah,” you agreed. “A really good start.”

You finished up the dishes together, the previous tension now replaced with a comfortable closeness.

As you worked, you found yourselves slipping into easy conversation, discussing everything from favorite bands to future plans, your earlier kiss hanging in the air like a promise of more to come.

When the kitchen was finally clean, you both moved to the living room, where the soft light of a lamp casted a cozy glow over the space.

You sat together on the couch, the casual intimacy of the moment allowing you both to relax and enjoy each other’s company.

Geto poured another glass of wine for both of you, and you settled in, your legs touching as you sat close.

The conversation flowed naturally.

As the evening drew on, you both felt the warmth of the connection you had begun to build, and you realized that, despite the surprises and uncertainties, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[thedemises]

——— UNSAID CURIOSITY ★ tighnari.

note; this is a really typical and possibly common idea but I just wanna bury my face into tighnari's ears and tail :3 (I had writer's block in the middle of wriktg this slenenodelwñx also ayyyy first written work of 2025 for me!!!!)

it’s a natural human nature to feel curious every now and then.

whether it’s the quiet wonder of what lies behind a locked door or the magnetic pull of something just out of reach, curiosity has a way of threading itself through our thoughts. sometimes, it’s innocent, fleeting — like the urge to peek inside a box labeled fragile. other times, it takes root, growing persistent and restless, coaxing you closer until the question demands an answer.

you hadn’t realized how firmly it had taken hold of you until now, trailing your gaze like an unseen tether.

the silken texture of his dark fur matching his equally black hair, the way the light filtered through the forest and caught on the delicate tufts of his ears — it was as if nature itself had woven them with meticulous care. the slight twitch here and there only added to the intrigue, stirring questions you hadn’t even thought to ask; you’d been caught in this peculiar fascination for longer than you were willing to admit, your thoughts drifting between idle wonder and cautious self-reproach.

where & when did he get that piercing? are they softer than they appear to be? would he mind if—

“do you perhaps want to pet my ears?”

his sudden remark sliced through the quiet like a well-aimed arrow, the bluntness of it knocking the wind from your composure. your breath hitched — caught off-guard by tighnari's bluntness not surprising really — the air catching in your throat and forcing a small cough to escape before you could stifle it.

for a moment, the world around you stilled, save for the faint rustle of leaves overhead — your mind scrambled, chasing down the remnants of coherence as they scattered like startled birds, fumbling through a dozen half-formed excuses to counter tighnari's question that scattered like leaves in a storm — the weight of his question lingered in the air, pressing against you with an almost disarming directness.

“err... why, of course not ,” you managed, your voice uneven despite your best efforts. there was a thin, wavering edge to it — like the fine thread of self-control you clung to might snap if you so much as exhaled wrong. a nervous laugh bubbled up, unprompted, but you swallowed it before it could betray you. still, the weight of his gaze lingered, steady and unyielding, like he was reading more than your words.

“what makes you say that, tighnari?”

you added, your voice pitched higher than usual, betraying the thin veneer of innocence you tried to project. your eyes darted toward him, searching for some trace of humor or teasing, something to defuse the tension simmering between you.

but his expression gave nothing away. he tilted his head slightly, his ears twitching ever so faintly as if punctuating his words.

“well , you've been staring at me,” tighnari tilts his head a little as if to gesture to his ears without using his hands. “specifically my ears , for a while now.” his tone was matter-of-fact, delivered with the kind of casual confidence that only made your embarrassment deepen. one gloved hand rested on his hip while the other was preoccupied with gesturing lightly, like he almost always does.

“plus,” he added, his sharp gaze locking onto yours, “it’s written all over your face.”

caught, you felt your resolve crumble, your lips curling into a sheepish smile despite yourself. the faintest warmth crept up your neck, blooming across your cheeks as you ducked your head slightly, hoping the canopy of leaves might conceal your expression.

tighnari’s sharp eyes missed nothing, though, and his lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile. “don’t worry,” he chuckles, his voice dipping into something almost playful, though still tinged with his usual precision. “for now, I will allow you to do it.”

the offer hung in the air, unexpected and oddly magnanimous, leaving you teetering between mortification and hesitant intrigue. the stillness of the forest around you seemed to amplify every unspoken thought, every erratic beat of your heart.

it wasn’t the kind of curiosity you could walk away from, not when the opportunity had been placed so deliberately before you akin to being placed on a silver platter.

you flicked your eyes toward him, hoping to catch even the smallest crack in his composed exterior — a twitch of his lips, a telltale flicker in his gaze, something to suggest he was merely joking with you; however his face remained steady, serene, like the surface of a still pond. his confidence was infuriating, though it was betrayed in the subtlest of ways; the slow, deliberate swish of his two-toned tail behind him, like a silent laugh he wasn’t quite willing to share.

then, as if to remove any lingering doubt, tighnari tilted his head slightly in your direction; it wasn’t a grand gesture — just a small, intentional movement — but the implications behind it left your thoughts scrambling. the tilt of his head offered an unspoken invitation, one that left no room for misunderstanding. the fine lines of his posture, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the deliberate ease in his movement all simply spoke of quiet amusement, though his face refused to give it away.

it was disarming, how natural he made it seem, like this was the most mundane thing in the world — and yet, it was anything but.

slowly, your hand hovered hesitantly in the air just half way from reaching tighnari's head — unsure whether to take him up on his offer or should you not. his ears twitched almost imperceptibly, as if inviting you, and the soft, velvety texture of the fur looked even more tempting up close. you are stare instead, hesitating.

“well? ” the tighnarian’s voice cut through the silence, his eyebrow arched in quiet challenge; his gaze held steady, sharp and expectant, as though daring you to back out now. “are you going to keep hesitating, or are you actually going to pet them?”

his words pushed past the knot of anxiousness tangled in your chest, urging your hand forward before your thoughts could catch up. your fingers hovered for a moment, then finally brushed against the soft fur of his ears. they were even softer than you imagined — plush and velvety, like the downy feathers of a bird’s wing. a small, unbidden smile curved your lips as the texture registered beneath your fingertips, curiosity melting into quiet wonder; almost childishly.

tighnari didn’t pull away. instead, his shoulders seemed to loosen, the sharpness in his expression softening just enough to betray his guarded composure. his ears twitched slightly at your touch, not in irritation but something closer to acknowledgment, and though his face remained neutral, the stillness of his tail hinted at his contentment.

"see? not so bad, is it?" his voice came quieter now, a low murmur that blended with the forest’s hum, a ghost of a smile creeping up his features.

your soft laughter broke through the air, shaky but genuine, and you quickly ducked your head, embarrassed by the sound of it. “not bad at all,” you admitted, the tension that had lingered between you unraveling with each passing moment.

your fingers brush against the black tuffs of his protruding ears, fondness in your eyes, rubbing the outline edge of tighnari's ears. “they're softer than I thought.”

the forest seemed to settle around you, its rhythm weaving seamlessly into the space you shared, as though it, too, understood the strange, fleeting intimacy of the moment.

...

“hey, does this mean I have the privilege to always touch them?”

“ahah, don't think about taking advantage of this, my friend.”

© thedemises 2025. all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, copy, feed to ai, or claim as your own. please.

[luimagines]

Undivorcing Time

Another Commission!

They asked for a fix-it-fic for Time from the Divorce Headcanons post back in April. Which you can read right here. :)

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

The last two weeks have been arguably the worst sort of hell that Link decided he would never wish upon his worst enemy.

Every day he woke up with a sharp and spiking pain in his chest. A piercing ache that threatened to topple him over until his legs refused to work and his brain was overloaded with the pain.

He had to keep moving. Moving lessened the pain.

Link gulped down another breath as he closed in on the once home he shared with you. He found himself breathing harder and heavier as the building came in closer and closer. He can’t think. He can’t even look at it.

Epona is merciless as he brings him closer step by step. She’s always remembered the way home. She knows where to step to not slip on the grassy hillsides and where to go without any need for his direction and guidance.

Link keeps his head down, keeping his grip tight on the reins even though he refuses to give Epona any more commands. It feels like a punishment, but he knows it has to be done. You’re likely to have already gone, taking everything you’ve wanted to keep and leaving him with who knows what.

Not that it matters.

Even if you’ve decided to leave him with nothing, he still plans on getting rid of whatever is left. He already has what he wanted to keep. It’s all on his back and in his bag. He didn’t even bother packing anything that Epona would have to carry. She’s too old to do much anymore. If anything, it’s a miracle she’s still up and running as it is. She’s already over 20 years old. 

Soon he’ll have to say goodbye to her too.

The pain in his heart deepens, the beginning of tears forming in his eyes.

He hasn’t cried once. He hasn’t allowed it.

Link takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes and smacks his cheeks. No tears. He refuses.

Epona takes the left and the little gate he set up five years ago comes into view. Epona stops.

Link stays on top of her for a moment longer. He stares at the back of her mane. Absent-mindedly, he pets her and lets his mind go blank for a moment longer. He doesn’t want to move. It’s a primal part of his brain that tells him to stay put, to avoid the pain.

But he hasn’t been a hero since childhood for nothing.

He can handle the pain.

He hops off of his horse, patting her side as he goes to open the gate. It creaks a bit, alerting him that the hinges need to be oiled. His immediate thought is that he’ll have to get to it at some point… But this isn’t his house anymore, is it? No. No, no. It’s not.

He walks through, Epona following loyally through the creaking gate.

He decides to put Epona in her place at the stable he built for her so many years ago. She should be somewhere familiar before he takes her away from this for good.

“Link!” You shout from the entrance to the house. The tone of your voice is shocked and he doesn’t blame you. He had left so suddenly. Quietly. He’s aware that while it was your idea to get a divorce, he was the one that had left without a word. You had woken up to an empty house.

However, the sting in his heart only persists. He can’t bring himself to lift his head and look at you even if he tries. And frankly, he doesn’t want to try. He brushes Epona down with a loving hand.

Faintly, he can hear your frantic footsteps stumble towards him. You’re off kilter. Unbalanced.

You crash into him at once, wrapping your arms around his midsection and squeezing him tightly. It’s enough to nearly knock the breath out of him. Both figuratively and literally.

Link instinctively wants to take comfort in the familiarity of it all. Your form. Your scent. Your warmth.

He takes your hands off of him.

No, he thinks, no more. No more pain, please. He can’t go through this a second time. He was hoping beyond hope that you would have either left already or that you wouldn’t want to face him.

“Link.” You say, letting him detach you from him. “I was wrong. I was so so-so wrong!”

He doesn’t speak. The walls of this throat won’t let him. It’s tight. Link can barely find the strength to fight against it just to swallow his spit. Tears well up at once without any warning. He fights for his life, trying to keep them at bay. He won’t let you see him like this.

“I don’t want a divorce.” You admit, beginning to shake. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. That’s the thinking. I got stuck in my own thoughts and I wasn’t being honest with you- I thought you would want something better than what we had and that I wasn’t being good enough-”

Link snaps his face to you and you shrivel up in your verbal vomit just seeing the expression of destruction on his face. Your own face falls as you begin to cry. “I was being stupid. I know that now. I’m sorry. I’m so so so sorry.”

You sniffle, shaking something terrible, but willing to face the consequences head on. Link says nothing. He doesn’t think he has much to say, when in reality he has everything to say. He wants to yell, scream, cry, shake you- anything to let out the amount of pain and frustration he feels with every fiber of his being. But he does nothing. It’s too much and far too little for him to process.

You take that as your cue to keep talking. “When I noticed you were gone, I thought that you had finally chosen to leave me…“ You gulp. “I thought things would be better for you. I thought that maybe I would be able to figure something out since I’ve always lost people that matter to me.”

You hiccup, taking a moment to wipe your face. Link wants to be the one to do it, but he forces himself to keep his hands at his side. Is it petty? Is he the cruel one? 

No. You broke his heart. Shattered it into a million pieces without so much as asking for his opinion. If anything, he’ll let you finish explaining yourself.

You step a little bit closer to him, hugging yourself tightly. You’re making a bigger effort than he is to make eye contact. “It was literally the day after that I panicked. I broke down. I broke the mirror. I broke a vase. I had a completely utter mental breakdown because the only thing that kept playing through my head was that I ruined… the best thing that had ever happened to me.”

Yes, he nods subtly, you did.

You swallow the spit in your mouth and wipe your nose as it begins to run from your amount of tears. “I kept thinking of how much I wanted you next to me. That you were the only thing that would have made me feel better. How much you’ve done for me, for us as a family, and just… how much I love you and need you- I’m stupid, ok? I’m dumb and an idiot. I know this is my fault, ok? You… you don’t have to take me back…”

You hiccup, slowly dissolving into sobs. “I don’t know… what you want to do… but I’m sorry. It’s your choice now. I just want you to know… that I don’t want you to leave.”

Link take a deep breath. The tears he’s been fighting back all this morning finally break through his steely will and track down his face. He reaches out to you and gently, with the back of his pointer finger, wipes away a rogue tear. His voice, once he forces it through the confines of his throat, is hoarse and weak, but you hear it all the same. “...I don’t want to leave.”

You break down into harder sobs as your knees give out. Link falls with you, cradling you within his strong arms at once. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping himself completely around you as if you were to suddenly vanish in front of him. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, tucking yourself close to him after he speaks. “It was dumb. I never should have ever said it.”

“Never say it again.” Link growls, hugging you tighter as his tears fall into your hair. “It almost killed me.”

He hiccups and pressed his cheek against the top of your head. “...We’re going to have to have a long… and very honest conversation about this.” He’s not exactly excited about it either. “You know that, right?”

You nod, sniffling and making a wet spot against his tunic. “I know… I know. I’ll tell you everything, just don’t go again.”

“I won’t.” Link whispers. “I made you a promise that only death could take me away from you. I intend to keep it. I never go back on my promises… As the golden goddesses as my witnesses, I married you. I am your husband.”

You fall silent for a long time. The two of you stay in the middle of the field between your house and the stable, crying into each other’s arms. 

Link feels at this point he can’t even be mad. He’s just glad that you don’t actually want to go through with it. But his emotional relief aside, he knows that this was only the result of a far deeper problem that he was previously unaware of. 

The words that you said when you tried to explain yourself, saying he was better off without you and that you always lost the people that mattered to you- that was something he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he refused to continue to believe such lies. You were always more than enough. You were more than good enough. You were always.. Exemplary… stunning… everything he could have dreamt of and then some.

He had no idea that you had thought so little about yourself. And he never could have imagined that such thinking could have impacted your marriage in such a way. Link had faced many foes and demons alike, but this was a challenge of a different color entirely. And one he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fight in the conventional manners he knew how.

This was something you alone were battling and will continue to battle for many moons to come.

He can only hope to be of support to you into the future. 

Link hugs you tighter and presses a tender kiss into your hairline. 

He’s almost at a loss of what to do now. There’s still so much heartache in his body that he feels physically ill. Crying isn’t enough to let it all out now. He gulps down the spit in his mouth and sniffles his own tears away. Link presses another kiss to your forehead. “I love you. I love you.”

You look up at him and cup his face, tenderly holding his jaw in your palms. “You’re not mad?”

“Furious.” He says softly, capturing one of your hands and kissing the palm of your hand. “That mirror you broke better not have been the one by the entrance.”

You press our lips into a thin line. “...It cracked in the corner…But no, that wasn’t the one I shattered. You know the one in the bathroom?”

“Oh.” He almost laughs. His arms tighten around you just a smidge more. It’s almost embarrassing how much he’s willing to give to you if you simply agree to stay with him. “Good. I hated that one.”

“Link! That was a gift!”

“...It was still ugly. Good riddance.”