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urdreamydoodles · 8 months ago

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MCU Characters x Reader (Part.1)

How they react when you are angry with them (Part.1)

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker (Tom H.), Stephen Strange & Thor Odinson

I'm back in my MCU era, thanks to Agatha All Along, so expect a lot of MCU headcanons, feel free to request those!

Tony Stark

- When you’re angry with Tony, he’s a little stunned. He’s used to being able to charm his way through things or brush issues off with a joke, but the moment he realizes you’re genuinely upset, he feels the ground shift a little. Tony’s mind races, calculating what he did wrong, and for a second, he considers ignoring the problem—but not with you. You mean too much to him, and he can’t stand the idea of pushing you further away.

- He doesn’t immediately know how to apologize, so he leans into his classic defense mechanism: humor. He’ll try to make you laugh, throwing out quips, hoping you’ll crack a smile. When that doesn’t work, he gets a little awkward, mumbling things like, “This is why I avoid real feelings, you know?” as he fumbles through an apology. He’s not used to admitting fault, but with you, he’s learning to swallow his pride.

- Tony goes all out when he realizes he needs to make it up to you. He’ll throw himself into making amends, maybe even a little too extravagantly. Expect some grand, over-the-top gesture—a private jet to Paris, a limited-edition piece of tech he’s been tinkering on, or a fancy dinner in some exclusive place with an outfit he’s bought just for the occasion. He’s not subtle, and he knows it, but he’ll do anything if it means a smile from you.

- When the big gestures don’t work, he takes a different approach. He shows up at your door, looking strangely vulnerable, with something small and meaningful. Maybe it’s a handwritten letter he’s scribbled out, confessing how much he hates it when things aren’t okay between you two. It’s raw, real, and completely unlike Tony, but he means every word. This time, he wants to show that he’s willing to put the ego aside for you.

- Once you finally let him back in, Tony wraps you in his arms and doesn’t let go. He’ll joke that he’s not letting you get mad at him again, and maybe throw in a flirty quip about “testing his limits,” but there’s something deeper there too. Being loved by you has changed him, and he’s willing to work on himself for the first time in a long time. With you, Tony’s found a softness he didn’t know he had, and he’s not going to risk losing it.

Steve Rogers

- Steve Rogers doesn’t like conflict, especially not with you. When he realizes you’re angry, he immediately wants to address it and resolve it, hoping it won’t escalate. He tries to have a calm, level-headed conversation, but he can see that maybe it’s too soon. Steve’s patient, though; he’ll give you space if you need it, even if it pains him to let go for a while.

- While you’re cooling off, Steve takes time to reflect, replaying the situation in his mind, wondering where he went wrong. He’s his own worst critic and can be hard on himself, especially when it comes to you. He’ll try to see things from your perspective, understanding that sometimes his old-fashioned sense of right and wrong can be rigid. He’s willing to bend if it’s what’s needed to bridge the gap between you.

- When he approaches you again, he’s soft-spoken and earnest, offering a sincere apology. There are no excuses, no justifications—just him, owning up to whatever hurt you. His gaze doesn’t leave yours; he wants you to know he truly means it. And as he speaks, he promises he’ll do better, vowing to always listen to you and consider your feelings.

- To make it up to you, Steve chooses something simple but thoughtful, probably something he knows you love. It could be as quiet as a walk through your favorite park or as gentle as a handwritten note tucked into a book you’re reading. Steve understands that sometimes, it’s the little things that mean the most. He’ll give you the space to talk, letting you vent if you need to, always steady, always attentive.

- Once the air clears, Steve is more affectionate than usual, holding your hand, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, grateful to be back in your good graces. He values trust deeply and doesn’t take your forgiveness for granted. Steve knows relationships take work, and he’s fully committed to making it work with you, one respectful conversation at a time.

Natasha Romanoff

- Natasha doesn’t like it when things are off between you two, but she’s used to people being mad at her. Initially, she tries to shrug it off, acting like she doesn’t care, maybe even trying to ignore it. But you’re different. You’re not just anyone; you’re someone she actually trusts, and seeing you upset with her hits her hard.

- Natasha is far more comfortable dealing with enemies than emotional confrontations, so when she finally comes to you, she does it in a roundabout way. She might casually ask, “Are we good?” as if it’s not a big deal, but the nervous tension in her voice betrays her. She’s not great at apologies, so her attempt is awkward but sincere. It’s clear she’s trying, even if she doesn’t always have the words.

- To make it up to you, Natasha doesn’t go for big gestures but rather something deeply personal. She’ll take you to a place she loves—a quiet spot on a rooftop, a hidden café she discovered, somewhere she can let her guard down. She’s careful, almost shy, as she opens up a little about herself, sharing stories she rarely tells. In her own way, she’s letting you know how much she values you.

- Natasha doesn’t usually do comfort, but she’ll go out of her way to make you feel loved and safe. Maybe she’ll surprise you with breakfast or bring you something she knows you’ve been wanting. She pays attention, after all, even if she doesn’t always show it. Little by little, she’ll find ways to let you know that she’s there, committed to making things right.

- When you finally forgive her, Natasha breathes a sigh of relief, leaning in for a hug that lasts a beat longer than usual. She’s not big on words, but she’ll whisper something soft and sincere, just for you. Natasha’s fiercely protective, and after a falling-out, she’s even more attuned to making sure you feel cared for. She’ll stay close, a steady presence at your side, her quiet way of showing just how much she values you.

Bruce Banner

- When you’re angry with Bruce, he’s instantly anxious, worried he’s done something terribly wrong. Conflict isn’t his strong suit, and he’s painfully aware of his capacity for anger. He’s cautious, almost timid, when he realizes you’re upset, giving you space and time. He doesn’t want to make things worse or risk saying the wrong thing.

- Bruce spends time overthinking the situation, dissecting every detail. He questions himself, often getting caught in a loop of self-blame, wondering if he’s ever really been suited for a relationship. But even though he’s scared of confrontation, he values you too much to leave things unresolved. He wants to show you that he’s willing to work through whatever the issue is.

- When he finally comes to you, Bruce’s apology is soft, heartfelt, and a little self-deprecating. He’ll stumble through his words, not wanting to sound defensive, and there’s an earnestness in his gaze as he tries to convey just how much he wants to make things right. He’s not perfect, but he’s open to listening and doing better.

- To make it up to you, Bruce goes for something intimate and personal. He knows you appreciate small gestures, so he’ll show up with something that reflects his feelings for you—maybe a small book he thinks you’d love, or a little experiment from the lab that made him think of you. He’s shy about it, maybe a little embarrassed, but it’s his way of showing he cares.

- When you finally forgive him, Bruce visibly relaxes, wrapping you in a hug as if he never wants to let go. He’s careful, soft, and almost tentative, savoring the warmth of your embrace. Bruce cherishes the trust you give him and is deeply grateful to have someone willing to weather his insecurities. He might even joke, “You’re way too patient with me,” but the gratitude in his voice is genuine.

Clint Barton

- When Clint realizes you’re angry with him, his first reaction is a mix of regret and a slight laugh. He can’t believe he’s managed to mess things up this badly with you, of all people. He knows he tends to joke around a bit too much, so he tries to laugh it off at first, but when he sees how serious you are, his grin fades. He’ll look a bit awkward, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing he’s got some work to do.

- Clint’s never been one to give big, elaborate apologies. Instead, he’ll pull you aside, speaking quietly and genuinely. He’ll admit that he messed up, explaining that sometimes he forgets to take things seriously or considers others’ feelings the way he should. It’s a simple, heartfelt apology, showing his honest side that not many people get to see.

- Once he’s apologized, Clint is all about making you laugh. He’ll start cracking jokes, doing his best impressions, and even pull some ridiculous faces just to get a reaction out of you. Clint knows humor is his best weapon, and he’s shameless about using it if it means making things right. He’s determined not to let you stay mad at him for long, no matter what it takes.

- When his jokes don’t quite cut it, Clint switches gears and puts effort into something he knows will mean a lot to you. He’s a guy who pays attention to the little things, so he’ll show up with your favorite takeout, a warm blanket, or maybe even a funny book he picked up just for you. He knows that it’s the small gestures that can speak volumes.

- After things settle down, Clint wraps you in a warm, comfortable hug, one arm wrapped around your shoulder, making you feel like everything’s back to normal. He’ll joke about how lucky he is that you put up with him, throwing in a wink, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind his words. Clint doesn’t take his relationships for granted, and he’s grateful you’re in his life, even when he messes up.

Bucky Barnes

- Bucky’s heart sinks when he sees that you’re angry. He’s used to pushing people away, and now that he’s got you, he’s terrified of losing you over a misunderstanding. Bucky’s first instinct is to retreat, his mind already whispering that maybe he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve you. He’ll avoid confrontation if he can, hoping things might smooth over on their own.

- But when he realizes he needs to talk to you, he’s hesitant, nervous, almost as if he’s bracing himself for rejection. Bucky approaches you carefully, speaking in a low, almost shy voice. He struggles with apologies, but he looks you in the eyes, opening up about how hard he finds it to express his feelings. He’s used to running, and being with you is the first time he’s tried not to.

- Bucky tries to make it up to you in the most low-key, thoughtful way possible. He’s not one for grand gestures, but he’ll do something meaningful and heartfelt, like leaving you a note explaining how much you mean to him or bringing you something that he knows you love. He’s nervous about whether it’ll be enough, hoping you can see the sincerity in his actions.

- When he feels things softening between you, Bucky relaxes just a little, offering his support in any way you need. He’ll stay close, maybe cooking a meal for you or sitting quietly with you, sharing a comfortable silence. He wants you to know that he’s there, without needing to say much, because he’s always believed that actions speak louder than words.

- When you finally forgive him, Bucky is beyond relieved. He’s more open with his affection, drawing you into a tight embrace, his touch lingering as if he’s afraid to let go. He knows he doesn’t have many people he can count on, but he’s grateful that he can count on you. Bucky’s still working on believing he deserves happiness, but having you in his life makes him want to try.

Sam Wilson

- Sam immediately notices when you’re angry, and his first instinct is to find out what’s going on. He’s straightforward and doesn’t like tension hanging in the air, so he’ll ask, “Alright, what did I do?” in his calm, genuine way, hoping you’ll be willing to talk it out. He’s good at reading people, but he wants to hear it from you directly.

- Sam listens intently when you explain what’s bothering you, nodding and giving you his full attention. He’s respectful and thoughtful, making sure you know he understands where you’re coming from. He’s not the type to dodge blame; if he’s at fault, he’ll own up to it right away. There’s no defensiveness, no excuses—just an honest desire to make things right.

- To make it up to you, Sam takes you on a simple, meaningful outing—something where the two of you can connect and have fun. He’s all about shared experiences, so maybe it’s a long walk, a favorite food spot, or even a small adventure he’s planned just for you. He’s careful, attentive, making sure the focus is on you and helping you feel valued.

- When things calm down, Sam offers a mix of humor and reassurance, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and promising to do better. He’ll look you in the eyes and say something like, “I don’t like seeing you mad. Tell me if I mess up again.” He’s genuine and open, showing you he wants to grow from this experience and be a better partner.

- Once everything’s back to normal, Sam goes the extra mile, making sure you’re laughing and relaxed. He’s always there to lift you up, pulling you in for a warm, affectionate hug and giving you his full, unwavering attention. Sam’s presence is solid, reassuring, and he’ll make sure you know just how much he values having you in his life.

Peter Parker (Tom H.)

- Peter’s heart sinks when he realizes you’re angry with him. He’s young, a little clumsy with emotions, and absolutely hates the idea of upsetting you. His mind starts racing, thinking of everything he could have done wrong. He gets a little panicked, maybe even rambling apologies before he knows what’s going on, hoping you’ll give him a chance to explain.

- When you tell him what’s bothering you, Peter listens carefully, nodding along with wide, earnest eyes. He’s genuinely sorry, his voice soft as he stumbles through an apology. He’s never been great at handling relationship tension, but he’ll try his best to make sure you know how much he cares and how sorry he is for letting you down.

- To make it up to you, Peter goes for something heartfelt, maybe even a bit awkward, but completely sincere. He’ll show up at your window with a little homemade gift, something quirky and thoughtful—perhaps a playlist he made just for you or a funny little gadget he put together in the lab. He’s earnest, a little shy about it, hoping you’ll see how much effort he’s putting in.

- Peter spends extra time trying to lift your spirits, using every ounce of his playful personality to make you laugh. He’ll crack jokes, do silly impressions, or even attempt a bad dance routine just to get you smiling again. He knows he’s a bit of a dork, but he doesn’t mind if it means cheering you up. Peter’s all about making you feel comfortable and loved.

- When you finally forgive him, Peter’s face lights up with relief. He’ll pull you into a warm, enthusiastic hug, holding you close and babbling about how he’s “the luckiest person in the world” to have someone like you. He’s young, optimistic, and just incredibly happy that you’re not mad anymore. To Peter, you’re his world, and he’ll always do whatever it takes to make you feel special.

Stephen Strange

- When Stephen realizes you’re angry with him, he’s a bit taken aback. He’s used to being right and doesn’t often see things from others’ perspectives, so it takes him a moment to understand the weight of the situation. His initial reaction might even be a little defensive, but he quickly catches himself, knowing that with you, he has to try harder to listen and understand.

- Stephen struggles with apologies, often trying to explain away his actions or getting caught up in technicalities. He’s intelligent and analytical, but that doesn’t always work when emotions are involved. Eventually, though, he manages to offer a genuine apology, admitting that he’s not always the easiest person to be with and that he respects you enough to take responsibility.

- To make things right, Stephen will probably use a bit of magic to create something special just for you. It might be a small charm to keep you safe, a little illusion to make you smile, or even a glimpse into some place you’ve always wanted to see. It’s his way of saying he cares, using the one skill he knows best to bring you a little joy.

- As he tries to smooth things over, Stephen is careful, more attentive than usual, and visibly trying to understand your emotions. He may not be great at expressing his own feelings, but he’s willing to try if it means keeping you close. He’ll listen to you, nodding thoughtfully, and maybe even opening up a bit about his past mistakes and how much he values you.

- Once you forgive him, Stephen is visibly relieved, though he keeps it subtle. He gives you a small smile and pulls you close, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms around you. He might even joke, “Guess I need to work on my bedside manner,” but there’s genuine affection behind his words. Stephen knows he’s lucky to have you, and he’s determined to keep learning how to love you better.

Thor Odinson

- Thor is visibly surprised when he realizes you’re angry with him. He’s naturally cheerful and doesn’t take most things too seriously, so the idea that he’s done something to upset you takes him off guard. At first, he tries to brush it off with a booming laugh, but when he sees the seriousness in your eyes, his smile fades. He immediately wants to fix things, willing to do whatever it takes to get you to smile again.

- Thor is quick to apologize, his voice earnest as he promises he didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s not one to overthink things, but he’s deeply sincere, and his apologies come straight from the heart. He’ll look you in the eyes and tell you he values you and never meant to cause any harm, his words laced with the kind of honesty that only Thor can deliver.

- To make it up to you, Thor goes all out. He’ll sweep you off on a grand adventure, maybe a spontaneous trip to Asgard (or at least what remains of it), or he’ll bring you somewhere beautiful and awe-inspiring. Thor loves to celebrate life and wants to remind you of all the incredible experiences the two of you can share. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he hopes that a bit of excitement will make things right.

- As you spend time together, Thor is extra affectionate, showering you with praise and hugs. He’s genuinely sorry and makes sure you feel loved and appreciated, maybe even telling you tales of his own mistakes and what he’s learned from them. He might tease himself a bit, but it’s all to make you laugh and remind you of his dedication to you.

- When you finally forgive him, Thor’s smile lights up the room. He laughs, pulling you into a bear hug, lifting you off your feet, and spinning you around. There’s nothing subtle about his relief and joy, and he’s not afraid to show it. Thor values you immensely and will do everything he can to make sure you know how much you mean to him, promising that he’ll try to be a little more mindful in the future.

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nanaslutt · 1 year ago

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Bathtime

synopsis: When Uraume informs you about Sukuna's ability to lactate but his disdain for emptying his tits, you know exactly what to do to help

contains: fem reader, you're Sukuna's assistant, true form Sukuna, nipple play, lactation kink, masturbation, dry humping, mention of blood, dirty talk, sexual tension, porn with plot // wc: 6.6k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Sukuna had grown quite irritable lately, more so than usual. It had been a few days since he started acting out, and you had no idea how to get closer to him to find out what was wrong. Sukuna wouldn't even let Uraume into his chambers to drop off his food, always making them leave it outside the door. It was a gamble whether he would even eat the food at all.

Sukuna spent the majority of his time locked up in his room, or down the way at a nearby village, blowing off steam. This time when he came back though, he looked worse for wear. His face was in a permanent scowl, his muscles were twitching under his skin, and blood was coating every inch of his body. Not his, but he still looked rough.

"Sukuna let me-" The king bumps his into your smaller body, making you fall back against the wall behind you, your arms reaching back to brace yourself. Uraume stood opposite from you in the room, catching your eyes before they fell to the floor. They kept their hands together in front of them, watching Sukuna's silhouette disappear from their peripheral vision. When the door to his chambers slammed shut, the loud sound echoing through the halls, Uraume let their gaze drift up as they made their way over to you.

"Are you alright?" They asked, brushing the dust off of your kimono. You ignored their question, your eyes latching on the outside of his chamber doors. "What is his problem? He's always grumpy but... this is new." You said, rubbing the ache from the back of your neck. Uraume sighed and placed their hands back together in front of them, putting some distance between the two of you.

"I know you haven't been this close to Sukuna-sama for very long, but this isn't out of character for him at times. There's a reason for it." You looked back over to Uraume, confusion evident on your features as you tilted your head to the side. "He- He doesn't like to acknowledge it, he's stubborn," Uraume said, averting their gaze. Their expression looked conflicted, their nose scrunched as they stared at the floor.

"Acknowledge what?" You asked, prying further. "Sukuna, he-" Uraume paused to clear their throat before they finished, "he lactates." It took a moment for their words to register in your head, but once they did, your jaw dropped. Just when you were about to question them further, they spoke again. "He knows he needs to drain them, but he hates the act of doing so. Which makes him ignore his problem. As a result, as you can imagine, the feeling is quite uncomfortable for him, making him more... grumpy than usual." Uraume explained, using the word you used earlier.

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words before you spoke. "How long do these fits of his last?" You asked Uraume. The white-haired chef looked around at the walls that surrounded them, pondering. "His longest fit was two months. It was excruciating to try and care for him during that time, it always is." Uraume said, sighing. They sounded exhausted.

You wanted to pat them on the back, you didn't know how they dealt with his attitude so well sometimes. "How does he go back to normal?" You ask, fidgeting with the fabric of your kimono absentmindedly as you speak. "All he has to do is relieve himself. He has pumps I keep in the kitchen. If he's ready, he'll come find them." Uraume said, suppressing an eye roll.

You felt bad the chef had to deal with this for decades. Just how many fits of his has he gone through while Uraume was at his side? He probably never thanked them either. You've always looked up to Uraume. They had the kind of elegance and patience you could only dream of achieving someday. You stared at the freshly swept floors of Sukuna's residence. The shiny black tile reflects the light from the chandeliers above you, blinding you.

"I'll take care of it," You said vaguely, determination laced in your tone. Uraume's eyebrows furrowed together as they looked at you quizzically. "I hate to see you get treated so roughly by him all because he refuses to milk his tits." Uraume's eyes went wide, their hand shot up to block their expression from you, hiding the blush that crept up their face from your use of anatomy language for the man.

"You- I don't know if you'll have much luck. He's a stubborn man." Uraume said, sounding like they were dismissing your idea. You were about to try and press them further when they spoke before you. "But if you really want to give it a go, I'll take you to where I keep his pumps." Uraume could swear your eyes shimmered at their words.

You took a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the king's quarters, immediately dropping to your knees, the pump tucked away in a bag, slung around your shoulder. "Sukuna-Sama, I ran a bath for you and I-" The door swung open before you could finish your sentence. The door slammed hard against the wall, making you close your eyes, your body tensing reflexively. You saw two sock and sandal-covered feet in your line of sight, making your heart race.

"Let me help you wash up Sukuna." It wasn't uncommon for you to help Skuna in the bath, help him get dressed, other mundane tasks, so your proposal didn't seem out of the blue. You wanted to give your reason for asking, as you usually just assumed you would unless he said otherwise. But you guessed if you had added that you wanted to help him because he seemed like he was having a hard time lately, he would mistake it for pity, and your head would be severed from your body.

Only Sukuna truly knew your worth to him, so he would never do such a thing, but you thought otherwise. Sukuna huffed out a breath before he walked past you and took a sharp left, heading to the bathroom, where you had already drawn him a bath.

You sighed in relief when he turned another corner, now out of your view. You briefly wondered what the hell you were doing. Hands clasped together in front of you, you pushed open the cracked door of the bathroom. You were met with Sukuna's rippling back, covered in now dried blood from his earlier massacre, contrasting nicely against his pale skin. Your eyes dared to travel down further, starting from his heels, up the strong muscles of his calves, and the tight muscles of his as-

Sukuna's glowing red eyes peered at you from over his shoulder, making you swiftly avert your eyes, finding the floor of the bathroom. It was hot in the room as you shut the door behind you, locking yourself in with your king. You couldn't tell if the heat you felt creeping through your body was from the steam around you, or something else.

Splashing of water took you out of your trance and back to the man in front of you as he descended into the tub, the clear fluid overflowing around him, creating a mess on the floor. Swallowing whatever saliva was left in your dry mouth, you walked forward, making sure not to sneak up on him and instead walking around the side of the bath to set your bag on the chair in the corner of the room, a few feet in front of the bath.

You didn't dare to look, but you could feel Sukuna's eyes tracking your every move from the moment you were in his sights. You squeezed your fists into the fabric of the bag, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as you tried to ready yourself to turn around and face him.

"You're nervous." Sukuna's deep voice cut through the tense, hot room, creating goosebumps along your flesh. You turned on your heels, making eye contact with him. You tried to ignore the now pinkish color of the skin of his chest in your peripherals, his body warmed by the water around him. "Nonsense, it's just a little hot in here." You explained, making your way towards the tub.

When you reached the side of the bath centered in the room, you reached out to grab the washcloth hanging off the side, half submerged in the water. Sukuna's hand gripped your wrist entirely, his stronghold keeping you in your place. you didn't dare to even breathe. "Lie to me again, you won't like the consequences." You tried to keep your breathing steady as your eyes traced the rippled in the water around his knee.

You nodded, still averting your gaze. The only thing you could hear was how intense your heartbeat sounded in your ears. His touch had been so unexpected. If you weren't nervous before, you certainly were now. Sukuna squeezed your small wrist, cutting off your blood flow entirely for a moment, your hand throbbing at the loss of it. You could feel his eyes cutting daggers through the side of your face. Finally, he released you, placing his heavy hand back along the side of the tub.

You took the washcloth in your hand and walked around the tub until you were met with his wide back. You took deep breaths behind him, trying to steady your racing heart now that you were out of his sight at least. Unfolding the washcloth, already hot and damp with water, you reached out and placed it against Sukuna's skin, not missing the way his muscles contracted under your touch.

Taking care of Sukuna relaxed you, you felt most at a place like this. Your eyes traced the markings on his skin as you rubbed the dried blood from his body, collecting it on the washcloth. You leaned down to your side, crouching a bit as you dipped the rag in a smaller bucket of water, cleaning the blood off of it before you went in again. The water turned a pinkish color from the first wipe.

"Relax Sukuna, you did a lot of work today." You said, trying to ease him as you rubbed the rag over his shoulders, your other hand holding atop his other shoulder. Sukuna all but grunted at your words, his eyes darting around in front of him, trying to find something worthy of stimulating his vision. Your body relaxed from his tame reaction, the hot water must be doing wonders on his chest. You decided to push your luck.

Moving to the side of him, you brought the rag over his shoulder and around his collarbones, ridding him of the crimson blood there. The water was a big moggy from the blood that had coated the rest of his body, making it hard to see into the water. You could only see blurry shots of his body parts when you dipped the rag into the water.

Sukuna was watching you again, and this time you hadn't noticed. You were too focused on your job at hand, that you failed to notice the piercing red eyes tracking you. You leaned over the tub slightly, reaching the blood that stained his other collarbone. Sukuna was exhausted. The hot water bordering on boiling his skin combined with your soft touch was lulling him away into a calmer headspace.

His chest ached, the feeling standing out like a sore thumb compared to how relaxed the rest of his body was. You noticed his hand on the tub opposite from you had relaxed, his arm now just resting along the side instead of gripping it. You peeked your eyes over at his neck, looking at his face through the corners of your eyes. Sukuna's breathing was even, and his face was still, his eyes shut. You knew he wasn't completely unguarded, he never was, but he was relaxing.

You dipped your hand into the hot water of his tub, your gaze finding his hard chest as you rang out the towel. You couldn't tell if his nipples were red from the hot water, or from his little predicament. Seeing as how his chest was above water though, you could make an educated guess.

It looked so swollen. Sukuna's muscles were impressive, yes, but you were extremely familiar with his body, and his chest was larger than before. He had kept you away from him for almost a week, so you had failed to notice it before. The skin of his chest looked taut and almost stretched. You placed the rag just above his chest, your eyes finding his face to check if he noticed or felt anything displeasing.

When he gave you no reaction, you dragged the rag down his chest, maybe pressing a little too hard as you went down, but you were determined to ease his ache. You only made it about halfway down his chest before you were being restrained again. This time, Sukuna was more dramatic.

He shot up from the tub, the water reaching about his knees as he kept a strong hold on your arm, distancing you from his chest. Your heart had started racing again, this level of stress seriously couldn't be good for your health. Sukuna's lip twitched in disdain, his eyes sharp and pointed as he glared at you, his jaw muscles clenching under the weight of his teeth.

You forced yourself to speak, "S-sukuna are you alright?" You asked, feigning ignorance the best you could with how in shock you were from his abrupt actions. Sukuna's breathing stayed quick, his gaze angry. He looked as if he was trying to see if you were being honest, if your words were genuine. More time went by, and his nails digging into your skin hurt you more than you cared to admit. Your arm throbbing where he grabbed you.

"Not. Not there." Sukuna said, sucking in a deep breath. You stayed quiet, mustering a confused look on your face. "My pecs. Do not touch them." He clarified, seeing as how you didn't understand his words the first time. You nodded quickly, keeping your lips firmly shut. It was only then that you realized you were face to face with his crotch.

Sukuna had been naked in front of you countless times, but that doesn't mean you got any more used to it. You've never fully got a glance at his... down there, always stopping yourself from leaning into your desires and looking at him. For some reason in this atmosphere, you wanted to look so bad. More so than you ever have before. You were usually good at curbing your arousal for the king, but it was growing harder and harder the more time you spent with him.

Sukuna squinted his eyes at you before he crouched back down, two of his hands grabbing the sides of the tub as he descended back down, his face now coming more level with your own. You softly pulled back against his hand, reminding him he needed to let you go.

He obeyed seconds later, his eyes staying locked on your face the whole time. Dipping the rag in the water, you swirled it around, pretending you were cleaning it off good before you spoke. "Sukuna-sama, may I ask you something?" You said softly, not wanting to irritate him further. Sukuna stayed silent. Your eyes found his when he failed to answer, that's when you noticed the curt nod he gave you.

Looking back at the rag, you rang it out with two hands, the water droplets creating rings on the surface. "Forgive me for asking, but why am I not allowed to wash you there?" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows as you spoke, trying to give him the impression you really didn't know his situation. "You're... there's still blood on your chest." You added.

Sukuna's eyes stayed locked on yours, an unreadable expression on his features. "The water will wash it away." He responded, ignoring your question. You returned his words with a short nod of understanding. You knew better than to expect Sukuna to admit to you he was in pain. He wouldn't even admit it to himself.

You dragged the washcloth along the side of his torso, along his ribs just under his arm. Sukuna's lip twitched, the pressure from his chest extended to the side of his pecs as well, making your touch irritable, but Sukuna was able to control his reaction, miraculously.

You noticed the water shift with him as he pushed his hips forward, sliding down into the water more as you scrubbed his body clean of the blood. "Would you like me to abstain from touching you here too?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his chest instead of his face when you asked the question. "If I don't want you touching me somewhere, you will know," Sukuna said, his eyes squinting at you as he spoke.

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft laugh. More like a soft breath of air passing through your nose, but the small smile on your face made the sound have a direct correlation. You corrected yourself immediately, clearing your throat you distanced yourself from his body a bit and dipped the towel back into the water.

Walking around the other side of the tub, going behind him to escape his gaze for a moment, you started cleaning the blood off of his left side. You pressed your fingers along the sides of his ribs, making small circle motions almost at the end of his pec, giving him small relief through the discomfort. Sukuna was now staring at the ceiling, his jaw bulging under the weight of his teeth each time you pressed against the side of his sore pec.

Just when you were about to move on to another part of him, as you were dragging your hand away from the underside of his chest, a small white drop of fluid dripped down his chest and met with the water below him, right next to your hand. You froze in place, watching how the milky color faded into the crimson water, becoming the same shade.

You peeked your eyes up and noticed Sukuna was still looking away, meaning you could investigate a little. Biting your lip, you repeated the same action, rubbing right under his chest. This time though, you kept your eyes on his red nipples, as you had a pretty strong indication of what had happened, and you didn't want to miss it this time.

As you pressed against him, sure enough, another white droplet dripped down his chest, following the same trail as the last. The small droplet left an off-white streak along his pale skin. You pressed your thighs together, you had no idea the sight would be so erotic. Hell, you were starting to think you were going to be unsuccessful in your endeavors with getting to relieve Sukuna.

While you were ogling his tits and subtly rubbing your thighs together, trying to diminish the heat that was forming between your legs, Sukuna had dropped his eyes on you. You were foolish to think he wouldn't feel himself lactating, and especially stupid if you didnt think he wouldn't pick up on how you repeatedly rubbed him in the same spot.

Sukuna watched carefully as milk spilled from his chest, your watchful, lidded eyes not missing a single second of it. "Are you having fun?" His voice echoed in the hot room, making your hair stand on edge at the sound. You swallowed hard, slowly retreating your hand away from him. You let your eyes trace his tattooed skin up and up and up, until you were met with his face, which looked almost amused.

"You planned to do this all along didn't you?" He accused, making your eyebrows shoot up in shock. You distanced yourself, dropping the rag in the tub with him as you waved your hands in front of yourself. "N-no Sukuna, I just- I noticed it just now." You explained, looking anywhere but his face. "I put the pieces together just now. Y-you told me not to touch your t-" You quickly corrected yourself, about to use an extremely inappropriate word to describe your boss's pecs.

You cleared your throat before you spoke. "-Chest, and when I saw the liquid just now I-" "What did I say about lying?" Sukuna interrupted, making you find his eyes swiftly. You furrowed your eyebrows together, a drop of sweat sliding down your face. "Do you think I wouldn't hear you talking to Uraume in the hall? You were a mere ten feet away from my quarters, you think my hearing is so inefficient?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, your jaw falling open in tandem, you were going to die here. "Looks like I wasn't hearing things then," Sukuna smirked, your reaction giving everything away. Your skin was vibrating, and the heat you felt between your legs was gone in an instant, only fear remained inside of you.

Sukuna smiled, resting his head in his hand as he looked you up and down. "Well? Aren't you going to defend yourself?" He asked, a smug look on his face.

You decided it was now or never, he was already for sure going to kill you. Might as well fess up. "I- if you knew, why did you let me go when I touched your chest the first time? Surely you knew my intentions." You asked, keeping your distance. Sukuna's smile grew, smile lines forming around it. "It's fun to tease you." He said shamelessly like the sadist he is. You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to look away from his intense gaze.

"Uraume tried to talk me out of it. If you're going to take this out on anyone, take it out on me. I couldn't stand seeing you treat them so harshly, so I took your pumps and ran you a bath, hoping I would be able to relieve you somehow." You blabbed, keeping your hands firmly in front of yourself. Sukuna clicked his tongue in his mouth, his eyes having a darker look in them after your confession.

"I half-assed ambush." He responded. "Just how did you think you were going to get those horrid things on my chest without me noticing? Hm?" Sukuna asked, his tone becoming harsher when he spoke of the pumps. You took in a deep breath and turned your head to the side, looking at your bag which had the pumps tucked away.

"Worst case I was going to ask you straight up and see if you cut my head off or not." You replied. Sukuna laughed at how casually you spoke to him, you must really think you were going to die. "But you surmised deceiving me would be better than being direct?" Sukuna challenged, his eyes giving you a one-over while you weren't looking.

The atmosphere had gotten hot again. The heat started returning to your body the longer you stayed alive. Why hadn't he taken your life yet? You looked back to him and nodded, not giving him any more of your reasons, you had spoken enough. Sukuna dropped his hand back down along the side of the tub and tipped his head back, his slanted eyes staring at you from behind his bottom lashes.

"Ask." He said curtly, his fingers tapping along the side of the tub. You blinked at him, considering his words carefully. After a long beat of silence, you spoke. "Sukuna-Sama, may I help you relieve yourself with the pumps?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his. His toothy grin made you throb under your robe. "No." He replied. You still kept your eyes on him, challenging him.

"Ask again." He demanded, tipping his head to the side. "Sukuna-Sama." You paused at his name as you figured out the meaning behind his words. His disdain while he spoke about the pumps must mean he didn't want to use them, but what other way was there? Possibly he couldn't mean...

"Can I relieve you?" You asked, leaving out the part about the pumps. Sukuna released a soft laugh, amused and impressed at how quickly you had figured out what he wanted you to ask. "And how will you relieve me?" He pushed further.

The vagueness in his words made you fight the urge to press your thighs together, a fire burning hot between them. "Anyway, you'd like me to, Sukuna." You replied, not even daring to blink as you tested him. Sukuna licked his lips before tipping his head back down, looking at you straight on. "What are you waiting for then?" He challenged, his knees poking out the top of the water spreading to make room for... something, or someone.

You slowly walked up to the tub, your eyes never once leaving his. "Perhaps we should change the water first." You replied, leaning down to the drain on the outside of the tub. Sukuna's hand grabbed the back of your neck firmly as you leaned down, stopping you from moving any further. "That won't be necessary." He replied, pulling you upwards.

"You aren't afraid of a little blood are you?" He teased, one of his eyebrows raising in amusement. You shook your head, placing your hand on his that still held the back of your neck. Sukuna released you, the smile still evident on his face. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute. He wanted you to get in the tub with him right? That's why he said that? What if you were interpreting his words wrong? What if-"

"Get it. Keep me waiting for another second and I'm changing my mind." Sukuna's deep voice reverberated through your body, shutting down any insecure thought that popped into your head. He was fibbing, there was no way he could go any longer without having his chest milked, he was so sore but his teasing was the only way to get you to hurry up.

You pulled the bow keeping your robe together undone, the thick fabric falling off of your body, exposing a thinner, white robe underneath. Sukuna felt saliva start to pool in his mouth, he could see the figure of your body almost perfectly now, and he would see it even clearer once you got in the water with him. You kicked the kimono to the side and grabbed the edge of the tub.

You swung your leg over it, dipping it into the blood-stained water. Immediately the temperature made you tense the muscles in your leg as you inhaled a sharp breath. "There you go." Sukuna said softly, his large hand grabbing your thigh, pulling you into the bath with him. If the atmosphere didnt feel tense and intimate earlier, it sure as hell did now.

You slipped on the bottom of the tub when your foot reached the bottom, your kimono getting drenched with the water around you, making the fabric sheer as you reached out and Grabbed Sukuna's shoulders, bracing yourself. Sukuna tsked, blinking away the water that had splashed in his eye before your waist was being grabbed with two hands and you were pulled into the water, your thighs straddling his pelvis, just above his...

"Didn't know you could be so clumsy." Sukuna teased, making your face turn bright red as you retracted your hands from his shoulders, sitting back. He kept a strong hold on your waist, keeping you against him. "I wonder what else you're hiding from me." Sukuna purred, tiping his head at you. You swallowed hard before looking down at his chest, swollen and irritated.

It felt like millions of little needles were pricking your skin from the heat, but the sight of Sukuna's chest in front of you distracted you enough for the pain to not feel unbearable. "How- how do I go about..." You stuttered softly, fidgeting with your hands in front of you. "Ask your question in a way I can understand. You aren't a child." Sukuna retorted, making you scrunch your eyebrows together in embarrassment.

His glowing eyes on you didnt help how nervous you were feeling. "The liquid that came out of them earlier, what was it?" You asked, backtracking to make sure you knew exactly what you were dealing with. Sukuna looked unimpressed, staring at you like you were dumb. "What do you think? Surely you can't be that dense," he responded. You felt the vein in your head throb, was he incapable of answering a question straight on?

You were hesitant to ask your next question. How you should get the milk out. Usually, mothers would breastfeed or use a pump to get the milk out, was it really the same for Sukuna? "Why do you produce... milk?" You asked, reaching out slowly before softly placing your hands on his chest with featherlight pressure.

"I'm not a mother if that's what you're asking," Sukuna said, a hint of humor behind his deadpanned answer. You didn't even know he was capable of making jokes. "Of course not." You responded, softly squeezing his chest, resulting in a long inhale from the man underneath you, his nails digging into your waist.

Sukuna's eyes fell to your chest, which was not soaked with the water and sheer. Unfortunately for him, you were wearing a bra, but the sight of it through your now-see-through clothes was a treat nonetheless. "Just do what you feel is right." He answered your unspoken question, his eyes lazily sliding back up to find yours.

With a nod, your eyes left him and dropped down to his tatted chest. You unknowingly wiggled on his lap before you groped his chest harder, resulting in Sukuna rolling his head to the side. You pressed the tight muscles together, rubbing his chest in circles, trying to increase his blood flow there. Sukuna's eyes shut halfway at the painfully pleasureful.

You worked your hands from the outside of his chest inward until you reached his nipples. You felt yourself throb between the legs repeatedly, the pace almost matching that of your heartbeat. You had no idea how worked up this would make you. Sukuna winced, almost unnoticeably, when you squeezed your hands right around his nipples, a white stream trickling down his chest.

You wanted to apologize, but once again didnt want him to feel self-conscious about feeling the pain. Sukuna rolled his eyes, his lip twitching at the feeling of his tits being milked bringing him relief in more ways than one. His cock had been hard from the moment you had started bathing him, his teasing and your facade of not knowing what you were doing to him only riled him up more.

The pressure of your hands stimulating his irritated chest outweighed the pleasure with the discomfort, leading Sukuna to grip your waist harder and groan. "Use your mouth, this method is insufficient." He growled, his voice coming out more hoarse than before.

He wanted you to... suck his nipples? You knew better than to ask any follow-up questions, Sukuna was clearly irritated enough. He was at his breaking point. You squeezed your thighs around his torso, trying to press your clit against his lower tummy to bring yourself some relief, completely forgetting that his body was a part of him and he could feel everything you were doing.

Sukuna stayed silent about your arousal for now. With a soft nod, you leaned forward and latched your lips around his nipple, waiting a brief moment to gather yourself before you sucked. Sukuna immediately groaned, and you made a noise of surprise as his milk flooded your mouth, the taste of it sweeter than you imagined.

Sukuna's hand pressed firmly against the back of your head, his low groans filling the bathroom as you sucked harder, your tongue lapping over his nipple occasionally, soothing the bud. Sukuna groaned through his teeth, his head tipping back as he relished in the feeling of his chest being milked.

Countless times he's had to relieve himself with the pump, and never once has it ever felt like this. Sukuna's cock twitched repeatedly with the need for attention each time you suckled around his nipple. "Yeahhhh, yeah this is doin' it." Sukuna groaned, shaking his head back and forth as he looked down at you. You peeked up at him, moaning around his nipple as you did your best to make eye contact with him, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Can't tell who this is for with how much yer rubbin' on me." Sukuna teased. He was right, you had been so absorbed in sucking on his chest that you failed to realize you had been steadily humping against his lower abdomen, giving your clit some much-needed friction. You stopped and pulled off of his chest the moment he exposed you, his hand still holding the back of your head.

Milk dripped out from his nipple, running down his chest. "I didn't say you had to stop, did I?" He corrected, raising his eyebrows in an unimpressed manner. "I told you, didn't I? Do what you have to do."

You nodded quickly with a hot face before you leaned down and latched your lips around his other nipple. A loud, long groan was released from Sukuna's longs as you started sucking, some of the milk you were unable to swallow spilling out from your lips and down your chest. Sukuna pulled his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes threatening to roll back in his head at the nipple stimulation.

You heard a sloshing sound behind you. At first, you thought it was your body creating the noise now that you were grinding your cunt on his pelvis freely, but you quickly realized it was something much different when you felt his hand repeatedly bumping against your back. Sukuna was jerking off.

"So eager huh?" Sukuna teased, his voice much darker and needier now. Sukuna was wasting no time with teasing himself by taking things slow, your tongue flicking against his nipples made his balls ache with the need to drain them, so that was exactly what he was going to do. Pulling back from his chest you sat up and began tweaking with the swollen buds, making milk leak down them.

Sukuna's hips jolted under yours, making your body jump against him. "Almost there, they're almost empty." Sukuna nodded, his eyes fluttering in their sockets. You weren't sure if he was talking about his situation under the water, or his chest. Nonetheless, you leaned forward and took a nipple back into your mouth again, sucking harder, trying to drain him completely.

Your own humping was thrown off as Sukuna began fucking up into his fist, the tip of his cock poking you in the back each time he did so. The water sloshed around you, spilling out on the floor from the tub. "Uh-huh. uh-huh, keep sucking, keeeeep fucking sucking." Sukuna demanded, his head falling back along with his jaw.

His jerking was sporadic now. You moaned and whined around his nipple, your sounds coming out choppy and high-pitched from the movement of his body under yours. His pelvis was bumping forcefully against your clit, it almost felt like he was fucking you like this. "The other one, suck the other one, do it now." Sukuna groaned, his nails digging against your scalp, leaving a mean tingling sensation against it.

Sukuna's chest felt empty and much less taught than before, the previous throbbing all gone, save for the throbbing of his nipples from the pleasure you were giving him. Your lithe fingers tweaked the nipple you weren't sucking as you obeyed him and switched to the other, only getting small drops on your tongue now. You had truly sucked him dry.

Sukuna's hips lost their rhythm, his body going taught under you as his arm went stiff, doing the best he could to jerk himself up to his high. His jaw fell open further and his eyes rolled back in his head. A long, deep groan was released as he came. Long white ropes of cum shot out from his cock right against your back. He rubbed his tip against your skin while he jerked himself off, working himself through it with your help.

His cum mixed in with the water around him. His balls twitched and clenched as they pushed out every last drop of his cum. Pulling away from Sukuna's nipple you pressed both hands against his now empty chest and started humping against his lower stomach, his hard pelvis muscles rubbing perfectly against your clit, making your head spin.

"Nghhh- S-sukuna-" You cried absentmindedly, resulting in a large hand smacking over your mouth, followed by an amused laugh. "Yeah yeah, get yourself off on me but be quiet about it, don't need anyone else hearin' you cry my name," Sukuna said breathlessly, his hand still holding the base of his now spent cock as he watched you finish yourself off.

His hands around your waist tightened and helped you rub yourself along his muscles when he noticed you were having a little trouble the closer you got. "You gonna cum?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at you, a hint of neediness in his voice. You nodded, your moans getting muffled by his hand. "Cum then, I'll help you," Sukuna said, pressing you harder against him, bringing more friction to your sensitive clit.

Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling, now only seconds from crashing down into your high as you rubbed your needy pussy on him. Sukuna nodded at you, his jaw falling open in a small o, occasionally cracking into a small smile as he watched your eyes and eyebrows twitch and furrow in tandem.

Your hand left his chest to wrap around his arm at the last second to ground yourself as your orgasm hit you. "There you go." Sukuna drawled, smiling to himself as your body jerked forward and your hips stopped moving on your own. He helped you move against him. Each time your throbbing clit bumped into his lower abs while you came another loud muffled moan was caught behind his hand.

When you tapped repeatedly against his large arm, he loosened his grip on your waist and released your mouth. A string of saliva connected from your lips to his hand, something you would've been embarrassed about if you were in a clearer mindset.

Sukuna pat your ass a few times under the water, trying to coax you back into the real world. "That felt good, huh? Looked like it felt good." Sukuna teased. Your eyes were all out of focus and your chest rose and fell heavily with every deep breath you took. "Don't get sleepy on me now, still gotta clean this mess up."

You wanted to roll your eyes at his audacity. You just drained his tits and came on him and he was already telling you to clean up? "A...A thank you would be nice." You said, wiping your hand over your eyes, getting the sweat off of your face. Sukuna smiled before his hand gripped your chin firmly, shaking your face back and forth.

"I think the cum I spilled was thank you enough." He said snarkily, making you sigh. He laughed at your irritation, glad to see you were coming back. "Have Uraume throw the pumps away when you get finished here." He said, making you tip your head to the side and look at him funny.

"I don't think I'm going to need them anymore."

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pizzaapeteer · 5 months ago

Text

[S]he will be loved ~ part two

Sum Reader is hopefully and madly in love with her best friend, constantly having her heart broken living in the shadows of other girls. Unaware that he’s hiding a secret, unable to express the truth about how he feels for her too.

Warn: NSFW18+, angst, yelling, swearing, PIV, fingering, semi handjob, dirty talk, (the smut is a little vanilla for the sake of being romantic), use of Ace as a nickname, y/n occasionally, Dramatic asf fr, maybe too dragged-out argument lmfao. Wc: 9.4k An: thank you for being so patience! It is suggested you read part one if you haven't, once again I went a bit in circles with this and so now will run away nervous as hell! but hope you all enjoy! Dividers from here & here

He makes good on his promise, avoiding you for the rest of the weekend and into the next week. His absence leaves a heavy weight of guilt that presses hard onto your shoulders, regardless that he had been the one to mostly start the fight. What had you really even done wrong?

Despite his elusion you still see him, amongst your shared classes, the late nights in the common room or when passing in the halls. His head locked straight ahead, as if the wall is the most interesting thing, and if his gaze weakens and he nips a glance at you, it holds no kindness. The icy water drenches your bones again and makes you question your memory, and how badly you’ve hurt him.

Dean keeps his distance as well, despite being unaware of your fight with Mattheo, the damage by him is more than physical and Dean wishes to keep far from the drama tempting to unravel. He decides it’s not worth getting involved now that Mattheo’s made his intentions clear. He wants nothing to do with it. His distance doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you can’t help wondering how you’ve managed to drag him into an unnecessary mess.

Had you, in spite, subconsciously used Dean to get a reaction from Mattheo? Were you challenging the bounds of your friendship? It wasn’t like you had planned to even consider Dean an option. He had just suddenly been everywhere, like a convenient beacon. It hadn’t been hard to get along, with his contagious energy and charming personality, he had easily cleared the thick aged brain fog once completely consumed by Mattheo.

Clouds slide inwards, covering the heat of the sun, and casting downward shade along the cobblestones, making you plan to head back inside soon. You sit under the shelter of a tree in the viaduct courtyard pondering the inner turmoil. Feeling conflicted, you sigh, weighing up the differences between them.

Dean, a kind and warm spirit who opened his arms to you instantly, making you feel needed and welcome. So ready to listen, and match your energy to his own passions. But there was always something missing. It all felt very surface level, and maybe that was because it was new. Or maybe he just gave you what you were yearning so desperately for. Attention.

But it wasn’t the right type you craved. For the way you felt under Mattheo’s spotlight was divergent. He made you feel special, your heart beating to a different rhythm for him. Being with Mattheo was like watching a sunrise for the first time, the shades of orange and pink peeking up after you both stayed up all night stargazing. It made you feel alive. He made you feel alive. Made you feel electric with life and like you could conquer anything with him by your side.

Maybe you ought to give Mattheo some credit, for he his life had always left him complicated.

You, of all people, know the traumatic strain his upbringing had scared him, continuing into his current life. There is no escaping the forceful path his life has been shunted down, his hands bound. It wasn't his fault he was deeply flawed, but it was your choice to be the one to see him past those sharp thorns. To help bloom the roses that laid trapped underneath the rumble, bring them to light in the same way as how you saw him.

You sit up suddenly, spotting Dean crossing the courtyard with his friends, and jump at the chance to make amends with him. “Dean!”

His head whips around and he stops walking, allowing you to approach. His smile is less, but not unwelcoming. “Hey Y/n.”

You eye his friends awkwardly till they call out for Dean to catch up and continue walking. You shuffle between your feet, feeling nervous about starting the conversation. “Hi- I.. I just wanted to apologise. I’m really sorry about what happened last weekend.”

Dean is quick to shake his head, respectfully dismissing your apology. “It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize, y/n. I hold no grudges towards you - besides, my nose has healed up all fine.”

You wince at his little joke, adding, “It's not just on behalf of Mattheo, I want to for myself too.”

“Oh?”

“I’m worried. I led you on.. Though I swear it was completely unintentional..”

Dean nods his head firmly and grabs your shoulders to calm your rambling. He already understands and offers you one of his kind smiles you had grown to miss. “It’s really alright. I kind of figured that out already.. And I definitely don’t wanna meddle in the middle of your situation with Riddle.”

“Figured out?”

His eyes crinkle and shoulders shake as he laughs at your oblivious confusion. “I'm not oblivious like you two are, besides I don't really want a repeat of my last relationship.”

You nod, not quite understanding what he means by oblivious, but feeling the recurring wave of guilt hit for misleading Dean and so you just give him an appreciative smile. Your heart remains heavy despite Dean’s forgiveness. “I’m sorry again, anyway.”

He shakes his head, dropping his hands from your shoulders, “It’s fine y/n. Maybe catch ya with Eli sometime. But good luck with everything, yeah. Not entirely sure what you see in the nutter, but knowing what kind of girl you are, it must be something good.”

While Dean retreats, catching back up with his mates, you stay eyes locked on where he last stood in a daze of thought. Must be something good. That’s always what you’ve seen in Mattheo, aware that it’s the defining string between your relationship. The knot that continued to tighten throughout your years at Hogwarts, strengthening with every moment of trust and kindness you shared with him.

For once you bite the trepidation and unknown awaiting, the thought illuminating and making the lightbulb brighter. Hoping maybe Mattheo’s reactions to Dean were rather explainable, and burying the one doubtful tic questioning if this was his usual protective self or merging into something new.

With newfound determination, you set off to find Mattheo, choosing to believe in the bright possibility that this territory was Mattheo awaiting under the rainbow of your deepest fantasies with a mutual feeling.

A week without you had been to put nicely, hell for him. He had wallowed entirely, sulking like a pathetic child, like his favourite candy had been ripped from his clutches. He realized quickly that this was worse, that having your attention shared, not having your presence at all, had turned him into a dreary grump. His mood was not subtle in the slightest, every emotion of agonized resentment shadowed his face in a deep scowl.

He was mad at you for how you defended that prat so easily, without stopping to question his intentions. But then again, he’d never openly admitted that Dean’s words had gutted him, mentioning his biggest insecurity. Not being worthy of you. Of your attention, your kindness, your laughter, your warmth, and last, your love. It had eaten away at him all week.

He’d hardly slept, which was saying something for he rarely could. He knew he was undeserving, and yet if there was anyone he wanted to prove his worth to, it was you.

He continued to watch the lull of the black lake from within the Boathouse, a quiet spot for his thoughts to wrestle in the ring with one another. He missed you in his arms. He missed the gentle way you would soothe him to sleep. With warm caresses that resembled a mother’s touch, but with you it felt more intimate. His cigarette burned, allowing small moments of relief to flow through his lungs, the inhale of nicotine calming his distressed heart.

He hears the footsteps of someone entering the wooden house and peers over his shoulder, assuming it was someone who knew he came here. Seeing its you, he turns back to look at the water, exhaling another deep breath, his heart exhilarating just by your presence. He suddenly feels clammy, wishing to douse himself in the cold water just to calm his nerves.

His shoulders square tensely as you near, and you continue with caution, uncertain how to proceed. Everyone knows the extent of Mattheo’s temper, and thankfully you’ve never found yourself on the other end.

Your earlier bottomless energy and hopeful determination seems to have found a sudden end, diminishing like his smoke does into the afternoon sky. Being around Mattheo again makes the doubt seep back inwards, wondering if Dean had been imagining something between the two of you.

Clearing your throat of nerves, you speak directly to the point. “I didn’t mean it.” Mattheo's stubbornness had always been a persistent habit, one of his shortcomings that meant you knew it was unlikely he'd apologize first. Especially considering he can’t even look at you.

He stays quiet, listening actively. He doesn’t like where this is going, despite aching to make up with you, having never fought with you like this before. He’s aware this is leading to an unstable vulnerability, and he’s not sure he can hold on to the part of him that despises being soft.

“I’m sorry, I.. I- you.. are wanted. Always, Mattheo.”

He flinches at the use of his full name. Coming from your lips, it sounds so sweet and remorseful. He knows you’re being sincere. He can hear it in your voice and somehow it makes it harder for him to admit his own wrongdoings. “But not in the right way.” He mutters mostly to himself, exhaling the last of his cigarette.

Frowning, not catching his mumbled whisper, you take another step bravely and stand beside him, finally capturing a glimpse at his face. It holds no clear emotion of how he’s truly feeling, constrained by the mask he wears protectively. Eyes locked dead on the smoothness of the water, the clouds darkening out above the lake and the surface breaks as raindrops ripple, gently dropping onto it. Even in his blank expression, he still looks gorgeous, making the butterflies flutter.

He sighs, knowing you’re giving him a look to explain, for an answer, anything as he keeps his lips pressed into a thin line. His jaw clenches desperately trying to avoid glancing at you, for he’s well aware that with just one look, he'd crumble.

He stabs the end of his cigarette out on the wooden panels, discarding it into the previous piles of used up ones. “It's fine, Ace. You’re forgiven. We’re still friends, alright.”

Even as he says the words, he curses himself for leaving your relationship there, when he so wants to take the conversation somewhere else. Somewhere further, where he can express himself to you fully, but he’s afraid. He turns towards the exit. “It's late, and it's starting to rain. Let's head back up.”

You stand frozen, reflecting over his words, “wait - what? I’m forgiven?!”

“Yes, that's what I said. Isn’t that why you came here?” He pushes through the door, feeling the beginning of the downpour hitting his skin, quickening his pace, not checking to see if you’re following.

You trail behind him in disbelief, appalled by his audacity. You knew he was stubborn, but not to this extent. “Yes, but-what about yours? Don’t you think I deserve one too?!”

He hears the pain and confusion in your tone and curses himself. He fights the part of him wanting to swallow his pride and spit out an apology, but he’d never been good at those. That would mean he’d have to explain the reasoning and vulnerable depth, years' worth of trauma that built a viscous insecurity he’d never shared with anyone, not even you. He didn’t feel exactly spritely about indulging you just because you were upset that he hit Dean.

“For what? You’re the one that called me unwanted.”

He knows it's a hard blow as soon as the words leave his lips. But he refuses to change something about himself he knows will only make him weak. Showing that kind of vulnerability and transparency to you is not something he can afford in his life. He can't stand to see your view of him change. To see him fragile, the hidden boy behind the hard exterior. Even if you end up hating him, he’d go to the grave protecting that piece of him, even from himself.

He keeps walking, not noticing that you’ve come to a stand stall, frozen in shock from his jab. His words make your heart ache. It's clear he still holds a grudge over the words you said. You had never meant it like that. It wasn’t that he was unwanted, but his overwhelming protectiveness that ultimately made you feel like he was in control of you, and you had always put up with it.

Never once had you allowed yourself to be selfish and actually enjoy the potential opportunity of romance. Until now, and yet he still continues to act cold, pushing you away.

The rain pours harder, soaking your clothes through to the bone, and you wish for it to absorb you completely. Mattheo finally notices the quieting of your pestering and turns to see you just standing there with an unreadable stare. His brows knit with concern, his earlier irritation washing away, and he blinks through the rain, feeling a wave of guilt.

“Ace.” He descends back down the stairs with a fasten pace, “Fuck- Don’t just stand there, merlin it's pouring.”

Your arms wrap around your body to provide any warmth physically and to your heart, lifting your head heavily as he approaches. “I said I was sorry.” The words whisper with the tone of desolation. Despite your anger, the guilt and worry break the barrier through the emotions you wear on your sleeves, knowing you never wished to hurt him.

He sighs with realization, his habit of self protection had only projected an icy blast at you and messed with your head. He steps without hesitation; coming closer, wrapping you up into his arms, a much needed hug for the both of you. He aches, feeling you reciprocate, gently hugging him back, and he holds you a little tighter, having missed your touch. The way your hands grip with need the longer the two of you stay embraced, and your head snuggles into his chest.

It's one of his favourite positions, his chin aligned with the crown of your head so perfectly. The way he feels ten times lighter now that you’re in his arms, and his eyes close, finally taking a breath of clean air. He gets lost in the moment, grateful for how you’re able to calm him so quickly. How you can take away all his anger at the snap of fingers, all his stress, all his pain even if momentarily just from the mere warmth of your touch.

His peaceful tranquillity breaks by the shakes of your body, and he’s reminded that he is the one to have hurt you. The small sounds of your sniffles smothering into his chest vibrate through to his heart painfully, like an earthquake causing destruction to his protective walls.

Cold water continues to splatter, coating the wet clothes that cling to your bodies, the only warmth radiating from your chests pressed together as one. He rubs your back soothingly, allowing you to express his feelings in the only way he knows how to offer comfort.

He opens his eyes, looking up at the thick darkness of the night; blinking back the rain that has no effort to cease. He can’t fully determine whether your body is still shaking from sadness or the cold. He sighs deeply, looking down at you, offering a smiling feeling as if things will calm back to normal at any moment. “Come on, we should get inside.”

You shake your head stubbornly, not wanting the conversation to end here, and pull back with a deep frown. His smile does little to ease the pain and, in fact, bothers you at how nonchalant he’s acting. “No. it’s just a little rain, and it’s not hurting me nearly enough as your absence of an explanation.”

He studies the wedge of separation you stick between the two of you, the reigniting of infuriated energy charging him like an electric circuit. Why won't you just drop this? He doesn’t answer you, his head turning, looking out over the castle grounds, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he’ll snap at you or, worse, reveal something vulnerable.

You press onwards despite the tensing in his jaw, annoyed that he ignores you. “Don’t you trust me? Why can't you tell me the real reason? I just need to know why you hit Dean?”

“Please, just drop it Ace.” He grits out, trying to keep from raising his voice. His body still turned; his mind buzzing, humming with anxiety.

The lingering anger swarms to the surface at his refusal to even look at you, “I’ve been here for you through thick and thin and you can't even tell me this one simple thing?!”

The clouds boom before a thicker onslaught of water spits down harder on the concrete steps, making it harder for him to hear you. Cowardly, he’s hoping if he ignores the issue, it will go away. But he knows you, and the determination you’re expressing only makes you stubborn like a mule, knowing you won't drop it till you’re satisfied with an answer.

He turns glaring at you. “Let’s just go inside, Ace! It’s fucking thundering!”

Apprehensively, you pause at his loud tone, knowing he’s beyond pissed. But the urgency for the truth pushes you onwards into your questioning, with your heart thinly stretched on the line.

“I can't! I need to know!”

He groans, “Why?! Can’t you just believe me and drop it? Like I already told you that shithead deserved what he g-”

“No! That's not good enough. I need more, a proper explanation Mattheo… and if you can’t tell me why.. I-I'll-”

“You’ll what?!” He snaps with an offensive scornful tone, so bitter he can taste the metal on his tongue for the attitude he’s giving. He blinks the water out of his eyes, shaking his wet hair that hangs soaked to his forehead. “You’ll leave?”

He's ignoring how his mind is screaming to just tell you the truth, to finally bare his heart and soul to you, but the fear of rejection has him by the throat. At this point, though, he’s afraid it won't matter what he does. The outcome is hanging dangerously, that he might lose you either way.

You swallow your turn not to say anything. You hadn’t wanted to actually say it, because it wasn't true. You didn’t want to leave, but you were feeling frustrated, hurt, betrayed.

He continues walking closer with intense energy, the darkness of the atmosphere making him look intimidating than ever. “Gonna walk away? Had too much of me finally, huh!”

His voice raises and you force yourself to hold still and not move from your spot, even when he gets right up in your face. You noticed the clear strain behind his words, and there's a flash of something more in his eyes other than anger, pain.

“Please Matty-y just tell-” you whisper pleadingly.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.. Stop looking at me like that.” He breathes out, hissing with venom and agony.

“Like what?” Uttering the question feels risky, as if the answer will hold all the truth to how he feels. His face twists and turns as your mind spins with anxiety. This is it.

“Just,” He groans with frustration, his voice raising again. “Like that! Fuck. Ace.” The lump in his throat grows, making him uncomfortable and his fists shake, clenching them to control the unravelling pressure.

You blink back the swelling tears and take a braver step closer, “Tell me- god please Mattheo, I swear if this friendship means anything to you! You’ll fucking tell me.” The doubt creeps back in; Dean was wrong. He doesn’t see you the same.

He’s cracking under the pressure and intensity of your gaze, seeing the fire burning like an inferno. There's no longer the usual glowing light he loves. How you stare at him like his answer will make all the difference to how you feel about him. But it's the way you mention your friendship with him that ultimately makes him combust, spilling his deepest, most impenetrable secret.

“Because when you look at me like that, it makes me feel unworthy!” He spits, not pausing to even let you process the emotions coming out of him. “Like I’m breaking you apart from the inside and i-I can't handle that. I can't handle seeing you cry…or even when you look at me in anger. It makes me feel like a piece of shit for who I am.”

His arms are up and his hands stress tangle through the wet locks in distress, “because you’re the best thing in my life! And yet I'm just scum on the bottom of your shoe.. And that motherfucker was right and I hate him for it, because I-i-I don't deserve you!.. Not your kindness… or attention… or friendship, and yet I'm still greedy. I still want more!”

He takes a step back, needing the distance from you. His chest heaves while he lowers his eyes at the pebbled ground, deep in realization that he’s slipped up. The silence between you two is killing him and he’s lost in his head with dread and doubt that he’s just gone and fucked up everything more. He raises his eyes with the little spirit he has left, eyes filled with great pain that knocks the air out of your lungs.

“You want… more.. With me?” The question is barely breathed out into the open space of increasing vulnerability.

He licks his lips, contemplating his next words, taking his time to really study your appearance. He notes the lack of uncomfortableness. There's no show of disgust or rejection of his disclosure for how he feels. He’s surprised he’s still standing considering how his heart is beating, sure if it beats any more he’d need a replacement.

He swallows with force the last of his fear, feeling the lump drag down his throat and sink to the bottom of his pit. He nods, unable to utter anything else, allowing himself to be fully transparent for once.

Tears of realization stream down your face as you comprehend his words, blending with the saturation on your face. He’s not even mad at you. He’s angry with himself. You know him well enough to spot that his eyes reveal his tell. He’s afraid. He wants more, even though he can’t admit it. Your heart skips a beat at the confession.

He’s close enough to catch the onslaught of tears beginning and his face falls with fear. This is what he had apprehended. “Fuck!” He turns with anger, his fists clenching, his body shaking with regret and anguish. “Ace-e - why would you let me tell you this? Jesus!” He’s facing away from you to hold back his tears, his head clouded with assumptions of why you’re upset, all heading in the wrong direction.

“W-what? Mattheo - no these are-” You step forwards reaching for him with a tender arm.

“Dont. Don’t lie to me, Ace.” He shrugs your touch off, blocking his walls back up with ease.

“Mattheo, I'm not lying! I’m not upset-”

“Y/n I’m being serious.. I don’t want your pity-”

You scoff, offended, “Pity!? I've never once taken pity on you, Mattheo Riddle. Is that how you think I see you?” You blink back the tears as he turns again, fighting the frustrations to not just smack some sense into him. God, how oblivious is he to you. “I could never pity you. I respect you too much.”

“Respect me?! What in fuck for?”

The water builds behind your eyes, blurring your vision amongst the rain, watching him express his insecurities. “B-because- because I fucking love you, you idiot!”

There's a buzzing, fluttering feeling in his chest like all his nerves have lit on fire, and he blinks, frozen in shock. His chest rises and falls, shallow and slow, but his heart palpates rampaging behind it. The fuzzy feeling migrates around, running from his fingertips up to the apples of his cheeks like an unwelcoming chill as he attempts to process your words.

Everything he thought he knew disintegrates out into the open space, like a gust of wind swept through his mind collecting all his stupid, suspecting doubts. You love him. Love. Love! The unfamiliar word bounces around his mind as he mulls over the possibilities of the meaning. His mouth runs dry despite the assault of rain, as he struggles to form any words.

“I know this is hard, hell I can’t believe I just said that to you-”

You're shut up by the pleasant surprise of his lips smashing onto yours, with an effort of urgency urged behind the feel of his soft lips. His hands move to cup your face, your soaked face, the warmth of them rising a blush to your cheeks, as he holds them with tenderness. He kisses you with all the love he has, willing to give you every beat of his heart. He knows you already have it. It's always been yours.

Truly, every piece of love for you is magnified by your relationship with him. Your generosity to accept him for who he is, to open your heart to him, even if he always believed it to be platonic. It was enough to grow his heart, and since then, it had always belonged to you. He pushes every ounce of emotion through, knowing it's easier to express than through words.

“You-u..” He breathes, catching his breath as he pulls back, struggling to get the words out.

“Actually?” He smiles in reassurance and hope glosses over his eyes. His chest vibrates as he chokes out a disbelieving laugh and his grin broadens. "You-u lo-” He can't even finish the sentence so choked up by all of this.

A smile graces your face with wide, full cheeks that burn with happiness and you reciprocate his choked upness, feeling the tears start again. The way your head nods ridiculously fast, flicking your drenched hair in all directions, makes him chuckle and he cups your cheeks for fear of it flying off. “Not fucking with me are you now Ace, cuz I swear to god if you-”

Leaning forwards you capture his lips effortlessly, now being the one to shut him up. It's sweet but passionate and he can’t get enough when you pull away. He threads a hand through his soaked hair in utter disbelief, his eyes returning to your loving ones. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. Kiss the crap out of you over and over.” He rests his forehead against yours and reaches down for your hand.

He’s taking in everything you’ve just said, grasping for the same longing that's been sitting, waiting to be released between the two of you like a dam. His face lights, and a little smile curves onto his face, and for the first time he feels the words sitting with ease on his tongue. “You have no idea how in love I am with you. Ace, I’ve been in love with you since forever. Fuck i-just you know I'm not good with words, feelings, all that bullshit.”

You try to fight the blush creeping up your neck, but the smile that appears beaming brightly back at him is impossible to suppress. You’re completely speechless, overwhelmed with euphoric feelings of contentment. Words you’d only dreamed of hearing, now confessed to you in the eye of a storm, and suddenly you’re laughing. “Are we insane?”

His eyes light at your happiness, but he raises a curious brow, not catching what you said at the sound of another boom. “Are- we…WHAT?”

The sound of your laughter bubbles at his adorable confusion. “It doesn’t matter! We should head inside now.” He seems to catch the end of that and nods hurriedly, reaching out to grab your arm, leading the two of you up and into the castle.

Under the shelter of the overhanging archways he turns, grabbing you by your shoulders, “wait- just let me get something else off my chest first.” He swallows, pushing the wet strands back behind your ears, “I’m s-sorry.”

You watch him feeling an immense depth of pride for him, and you smile softly, reassuring him to continue. “look.. I won't apologise for hitting Dean, I don’t regret that and- i-I can’t tell you it all yet, but he said something that cut deep. Whether or not the asshole meant it, I couldn’t take how it made me feel. But I am sorry I ruined your night at the gig. Fuck- I was angry and jealous and I really was trying to look out for you.”

You nod in understanding, accepting that he’s not ready to bear that much emotion in one night, and bring him in for a hug. “Matty.. You don’t know how much I appreciate you trying.” He clings to you, a desperate boy finally receiving the much needed love he had been deprived of for too long. “And-d you didn’t really ruin my night. I wanted to go with you first, anyway. But I got in my head - the doubt i-i just didn’t want to ruin us.”

He pulls back cupping your cheeks, “god we’re stupid aren’t we?” He smiles amused with the obliviousness and blindness you both held for one another. “I’m just glad I didn’t lose you.”

You shake your head, “you never would have. I was bluffing completely.. I couldn’t handle being without you, Mattheo.”

He grins, leaning down to press another soft passionate kiss to your lips, “and you couldn’t have lost me even if you tried Ace. You’re literally iron cast around my heart. The knot is too tight. You’d have to break me just to free the attachment I have to you.” His eyes are sincere and hold so much emotion you’re verging on tears again.

“Okay, ah let's not cry again. I wasn’t lying about not being able to handle that. Let's go back to my dorm. Come on.” His arm guides you wrapping around your waist, a stark contrast to the way his arm usually drapes over your shoulder casually. He helps you walk back to his dorm with care and compassion, the energy between you a mixture of excitement and lightness, the weight of the confession lifted.

He helps you into his dorm, closing the door and gazes at you with pure happiness before searching his dorm for some towels. A room you’ve stood in many times before but never in this sense, and just being here with all your feelings out in the open makes your body prick with anticipation.

You stand watching him shivering a little, and begin to unstick your thick sweater, clinging to your soaked through shirt, stripping it up with difficulty while Mattheo searches through his draws for some clean clothes. The head of the material sticks trapping your head and you groan, frustrated, trying to pull it off, catching Mattheo’s attention. He peers over his shoulder, laughing at the awkward situation he’s spotted you in.

His gaze drops and his eyes darken shamelessly, admiring how your shirt clings to your body, accentuating your chest. He licks his lips, letting his thoughts run wild for once with no guilt, and stops what he was doing walking closer. His hands graze your waist, letting you know of his proximity as he speaks with a low husk in his tone. “Lemme help Ace.”

He slides his hands gently up your sides till he pushes the sleeves of the sweater up, freeing your arms before helping squeeze your head through the hole. The sweater drops to the floor; the moment becoming charged with heightened tension and desperate looks reflected in both of you.

His fingers descend, tracing down your sides in slow strokes that makes your heart leap your full attention on him. You exhale small shallow breaths, feeling your insides squirm under his intense stare, not daring to say a word. His hands wrap around the curve of your waist, tugging you inwards till you press fully up against him, giving you his signature boyish grin.

“That's better.” His eyes flicker between the desperation dripping in your eyes to the soft parting of your lips, waiting with anticipation.

His head dips, brushing his lips back against yours, and he whispers with the weight of a man ready to feast on his deepest desires. “Ace..you know I want you… don't you?” He’s so close that when he licks his lips, his tongue grazes your lower lip with the subtlest of touches and he relishes in the sucking in of your breath. Barely able to hold back the teasing smirk at your reaction, he presses his lips to your cheek in a gentle, tender kiss instead.

You nod, your chest rising and falling with intense yearning, whispering back, “Yes.. I know now.”

“Good. That’s good.” He presses another kiss travelling up your cheek, sparking the heat to rise, flushing the skin a deep red. He grins sincerely, “you look so pretty when you blush.”

You swallow, feeling your body alight with need, buzzing with electricity that runs down to the tips of your toes. You wonder if he knows how aroused you feel right now. The rest of your clothes are slick still with rainwater, but you already know the puddle forming in your panties is definitely from the heat. You attempt to exhale quiet bated breaths throughout your nose, unable to trust your mouth to open, uncertain what kind of animalistic sound would fall out.

Mattheo might be oblivious to love, but he’s a keen observer in the act of sexual intimacy. It’s as if his eyes are an x-ray lust detector. He knows all the tells of an aroused woman. “So pretty Ace, fuck..you’re making me want to kiss you senseless.” His voice strains with restraint. He’s still holding onto some concern, not wanting to freak you out with all his intense energy waiting to consume you.

The struggle in his tone only makes you want him more and your eyes lift upwards, filled with hungry persuasions. Uttering a simple, “please.”

The moment you plead with those sweet eyes, all his control gets thrown out the window. Taking your jaw in his hand, he leans back in to kiss you. His lips melting onto yours, the two of your lips colliding in synchronization. His hands cup the nape of your head, tilting it back, and diving deeper, his tongue pushes, seeking entrance as kindly as he can be while he fights the pure animalistic hunger to devour you urgently.

You moan softly, allowing him access, the two of your tongues dancing with one another like a fervent tango. He mumbles softly against them, “Do you know how long I craved to feel these lips, Ace?”

A deep flush grows on your cheeks and you breathe heavily, gazing up, feeling his lips kiss along the side of your neck. “How long?” You ask breathlessly.

He chuckles at your response and interest. “too fucking long. I always knew that you’d taste this sweet.” The soft sighs and hums that vibrate out of you have his mind spinning and he presses his lips harder onto your skin, needing to entice more out of you. He pulls you closer to him before he’s back, kissing your lips, engulfing you completely.

The two of you continue to make out, still standing, before his fingers slip under your wet shirt and he hisses at the cold contact. “Merin, you're still freezing.”

“I’m okay.” You reassure him, shivering from his touch.

He smiles, noticing the shiver. “Yeah?”

You nod, promising him, finding it sweet how he’s concerned about you. Sliding your own hands up his arms, you find solace cupping the back of his neck, pulling him down, needing another kiss. He falls back into the growing pattern, not wanting to miss even a single moment of your touch.

“I know a way you can warm me up, though.”

His eyes flutter open and he gazes at you, his eyes glistening with similar intention. “Oh, yeah?” He flashes an amused smile, intrigued by your flirtatious energy. “What might that be, Ace?”

Biting your lip with a teasing smile of your own, you step back, pulling him with you onto the bed, causing him to chuckle happily. His arms flex, holding himself up from crushing you with his weight, and his head dips. “Fuck, you look so sexy when you bite that.”

Your face contorts with a soft whine at the flustering compliment and he grins, more pleased with your reaction. His lips reclaim yours once more with delicate urgency, and you match it quickly getting lost, diving your hands into his curls. Having only stroked his hair tenderly, your fingers move with eagerness, tugging and pulling desperately to get a sound out of him.

His hands trace you with the utmost respect and value, different from his experiences with other girls. There's reasoning and depth behind every touch. Enjoying every sweet moment, being able to explore every curve he’s only dreamed about touching. He’s finally able to hold you the way he's always wanted, no longer needing to hide behind his fragile vulnerability in the dark. He's finally giving you all of him under the limelight, and he hopes to show you how he’s felt this whole time.

Mattheo groans at each tug of hair, lowering himself to keep kissing you, his hands sliding under your shirt again, feeling the way your body contracts. The muscles twitch with sensitivity and he swallows your gasp, grinning before pushing dominantly his tongue back in. His fingers peel the wet shirt up and over your bra.

He sits up ditching his own shirt, and your hands roam over his chest, feeling the groves of his past scars, sending shivers down his back. He watches gazing at your eyes and how they view him. You already know about the meaning behind them, but now you get to love them, and he bites his lip to not get choked up at how you look at him with love in your eyes.

He grabs your wrists, gently kissing both of them before he pins them above your head, shocking a gasp out of you. He grins, satisfied by your reaction as he shifts, sliding his hands upwards, intertwining your fingers together in an intimate hand hold.

“I’ll go gentle on you...just for today, yeah.” Another cheeky grin flashes your way, unaware of the concealed experience of your sexual life.

You laugh at his sweet reassurance, squeezing his hands, loving the feeling of holding onto him. “I’m really not as innocent as you believe, Matty.”

He raises a brow with surprised curiosity. “Are you telling me I’m not about to be your first Ace?”

The silence confuses him, for when he looks down at you, there's a flash of guilt in your eyes. “I’m not?” He feels a wave of jealousy flow through his veins at the thought of you with someone else, though he knows he has no reason to. He leans down, carrying on his sensual onslaught, kissing up behind your ear. He nips it gently as he whispers sultry, “really?”

Feeling your head nod, he lets out a tiny groan, mostly at himself for taking too fucking long to get his shit together. “That is a shame, baby.”

Turning your head to lock with his sight, reassuring him, “It means more with you, though, Matty.”

His eyes soften, giving a curt nod. He can see the sincerity and honesty in your eyes and he offers a smile back, pecking you. He knows it's true, as it is for him. “The same goes for me.” He cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “This isn't a one time thing, okay? You mean so much to me, Ace, and never again do I want to make you feel how I did before.”

His eyes hold so much truth and devotion that you can feel your eyes beginning to water. That is before his hips shift, pressing ever so subtly down, getting into a grinding rhythm as he distracts you from the raw moment with kisses.

He almost jumps out of his skin when your bold hand explores down south, not expecting you to act so brazenly. He shifts, rolling onto his side, allowing your hand to slip inside his pants and wrap around his cock. He can’t help but buck his hips into your palm at the feel of your hand making contact.

“Fuck-Ace.” His eyes droop, looking at you shifting onto your side too, your tits squishing together in the constraints of your bra, his mouth gaping letting out a hitched shaky breath.

Capturing your lips once more, moaning into your mouth, he drowns in the pleasure of how your hand increasingly pumps his cock up and down. He murmurs, resting his forehead against yours with knitted brows, “oh - yeah, ace like that.”

His own hands creep and unbutton your jeans, pushing them down with a bit of urgency. “This okay?”

You nod and ask back, “You? This okay?”

He nods, kissing your cheek and down your neck, “Yes.. better than okay- your hand feels so good.”

You tug your jeans down, kicking them off revealing your panties and he groans, peering down, before he slides a hand rubbing your thigh and tracing his fingers teasingly over the skin as they itch with temptation, brushing gently over your core. He rubs, applying slow pressure over your clothed covered clit and runs a hand through your hair, tugging it back to kiss you. He loves hearing your little sounds muffled into his mouth at the extra sensation you’re feeling.

“So pretty..you sounds so hot.”

You whine sensitively and he swears he’s sent to heaven at the harmonic pitch of your voice. His cock twitches, pulsing in your hand to the sound. Your actions slow focusing on your pleasure and for once he doesn’t mind not being the centre of attention.

He watches with an intense focus full of desire at how your pretty eyes can’t handle staying open, fluttering. The steady rise of your chest increases with every bit of pressure he rubs tauntingly slow. He can't wait any longer, maneuvering his hand under your panties, sliding one finger in, his skin saturated instantly in your juices.

His own breathing congeals to short tiny gasps, eyes darkening, consumed with lustral appreciation. “Soakin Ace. You've been this wet the whole time?”

His question, which seems sincere, causes a flustered reaction and you moan again, grabbing hold of the sheets. He takes it as a yes.

Soft moans of satisfaction infiltrate the room at each hum of your lips. He can feel just how much you’re enjoying this, welcoming him to do what he wants. The trust you have to know what he’s doing is appreciated, and he hums himself in arrogance. Every reaction, sound, movement - watching as your hips begin to jut slightly seek more friction only fills him with a deep pride. You're his girl now, and he’ll never disappoint you again.

His lips move peppering kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin, seeking the achievement of leaving marks of purple hues. “You like that, yeah?”

His finger protrudes deeper, gaining a steady pace, and his eyes flicker away from decoration markings on your neck to your legs spreading wider for his hand. He needs more, hearing every gasp and the sweet moan exhaling from you is pure bliss, and makes him feel on cloud nine.

He hisses gently at how your hand involuntarily squeezes the nearest thing, which happens to be his cock still. It's torture, as you're so focused on him, just pleasing him to even notice the subtle teasing you’re providing. “Sweetheart..” His tone is gritted with bated breath. “F-fuck, please either let go or do something with your hand.”

You moan at the pet name and begin pumping him again, trying to multitask, your brows frowning at his addition of another finger. “Ah- sorry Matty.. I’m trying…just feels s’good!”

He grins at your struggle to speak. “Yeah, feels good?” His fingers meticulously move with skill, slick knuckles deep in your cunt, before he curls them, scraping the spot to make your back arch.

There’s a string of whines as your hips buck up into his hand, “Uh! Yes!”

“Yeah, you want another? Want me to stretch you out…wanna be ready for me, don’t you, Ace?”

While his words are forward and prompting for more, he doesn’t make any moves to do anything until you give him confirmation. He’s continuously checking for your assurance, making sure this is what you want. He just wants to bring you pleasure, watch you get off riding slowly onto his fingers. How your back is arching and your muttering soft pleads, all for him. What's yours is his right.

You nod desperately, “Please Matty!”

He obliges, pushing in a third with ease, your walls contracting to fit him snug inside your drenched pussy. The warmth that evades his fingers has him groaning, listening to a new wave of mews slur out of you. “Fuck-that’s it. Such a good girl, baby.”

He bites back the small protest when you release his cock and grip his arm instead, the indents of your nails digging into his skin, stinging but filling him with a possessive power. He wants your marks on him as much as he wants to leave them on you. To combine your bodies as one and intertwine in a way that goes beyond physical.

Pure bliss overcomes your face and you turn, opening your eyes, glossy with need. Bringing his head down in urgency, you plead. “Matty…Matty, I want more.. Please, I don’t wanna cum unless it’s in you.”

“Shit-t yes yeah?”

His fingers slowly drag, retracting out, pulling a needy whine from the back of your throat, and you nod urgently. He gives his fingers a quick lick, not wanting to waste a single drop of you, watching focused how you shuffle out of your panties.

He shifts sitting up and starts removing his own wet pants with great difficulty. The jeans are heavy and compressed to his thighs tight, causing them to stick, his groin constricted pushing snuggly against the material of his unbutton pants. “Shit- fuck, these are fucking tight now.”

Wandering his gaze at your movements, he watches frozen, disbelieving the vision before him. Sitting up onto your elbows, you unclip your bra, freeing your tits and exposing yourself fully. His pants sit halfway down his legs, his jaw tensing, eyes gazing with enamour at your bare body. He blinks again, swearing this has to be one very good sex dream.

“Fucking Salazar.” He takes in your body as you lay waiting patiently. His lustful gaze only makes you that much hotter. He leans against the bedpost, unable to drag his eyes away. “Ace?”

“Yeah?”

“Just checking this is real.” He finishes pulling his pants down, almost tripping over them with excitement that draws a giggle out of you. The sound of your laugh shakes him out of his daze, and he grins cheekily, continuing his mission of ridding his clothes as fast as possible. “God, I love your laugh.. gonna make me cum right now.”

Your laugh grows in ecstatic shock at his vulgar words. “Mattheo!”

“Oh yeah, look at you practicing screaming already.” He grins, finding your flustering adoring. He frees his cock, admiring the absolutely thirsty look painting your face. He can’t help how his mind backtracks to your admission of not being a virgin, and he lets out a speck of jealousy. “Tell me really, am I bigger?”

“Bigger?” Only just are your eyes able to drift away and up with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah.. Then the fucker who stole your virginity.”

You can’t help the pleased laugh breaking out at his not-so-subtle jealousy, trying to hold back the smug attitude. “Seriously, you're getting jealous now, while I'm baring not only my body but my heart and soul to you.” Lifting a feigned unimpressed eyebrow, you watch with astonishment at how his face changes, expressing a small sheepish smile.

You beckon him closer with a finger, welcoming the confidence flowing through you. “Come here.”

As if pulled by a magnet, he crawls back down, hovering above, his eyes gleaming enticingly and the deep inhale of need. The way you’re looking at him as if he holds all your answers, holds all the warmth for you and that he’s the only one to bring you happiness prick at his skin, feeling nervous. But then you smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and whisper an adorable, “Hi.”

He grins back, finding himself relaxing just at the mere sight of those brimming cheeks and whispers back, “Hey gorgeous.”

His hands roam, maneuvering over your body and pushing your thighs apart. He notes how your eyes fall, breath spiking with anticipation. “Hey, look at me.” His voice is a soft, strained whisper, on the break of losing it altogether as the head of his tip drags through your folds. “You know I love your eyes. It's one of your favourite features of mine.”

He’s never done this before. Been so openly intimate, especially as he’s preparing to fuck someone. He nudges the tip a little further in just gently, a low rumble etching out with hoarse feralness. “I want your eyes on me the whole time, ok Ace.”

Meeting his eye, losing yourself drowning in warm pools of brown neediness, listening to his gentle but essential request, you nod in confirmation. “I will. I never want to turn my back on you again. I love your eyes too much, too.”

His cheeks are hurting from how much they’ve stretched into a smile tonight. “God, you’re perfect, aren’t you?” He captures your lips in a short but passionate kiss.

“Just tell me if it's too much, yeah.” He warns concerningly, biting back the desire to lose control and wreck you completely. At just your nod he utters, looking back up, “words Ace.”

“I will.. yeah, Matty just please..”

“Good girl, such sweet manners.” He grins, licking his lip as he grips his cock, nudging it further in between your folds, his eyes fixed on the way your pretty pussy embraces the head so perfectly, like it was made just for him. A glottal groan of relief passes through his lips and he thrusts his hips gently, his cock sliding deeper into the tightness of your warm walls.

“Oh-f-fuck.” He drops his head, pressing his forehead already beginning to bare a sheen of sweat onto yours, feeling the gaping of your own mouth. The sound that pulls from you is sinful, a delicious lewd moan that makes him grip your hips with firmness to not fall apart so quickly.

“God-yeah…You feel so fucking’good.”

At the flexible way your legs bend back towards your chest naturally, he groans breathlessly, taking it as a sign you’re okay for him to pick up the pace. His hips thrust, driving into you with a satisfying rhythm, the moans continuing to tumble from your lips.

“That’s it… you sound so pretty, baby.” He rasps low and husky. He’s looking at everything, watching the pleasure etched on your face while you lay with your eyes scrunched closed, absorbing it all. He flickers his eyes back and forth from how his cock slides between your folds captivatingly and up to your pretty blessed out face. Your mouth gaping as streams of whiney moans flows out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. “Fuck, I don't know where to look baby…look so good taking me.”

Clutching onto him with a grip of iron, nails pinching into his skin as he cages your body in. His biceps bulge under the movement of holding his weight above you. He drops his head into the crook of your neck and he groans, feeling your fingers dig into his hair, listening to your babbled praises. “Matty- ah feel s’good.”

He roams his hands, stretching your legs wider as he presses his palm down to stabilize himself, his hips vigorously bucking with the strength of a raging bull. He doesn’t know how he told himself he could go easy, with the way your pussy squeezes his cock feels as good as pure heroine. He plants kisses on your neck and turns your head towards him, pressing his lips back onto yours.

He’s in love with the way you feel, the way you sound, your touches roaming his body, switching from gentle caresses to carnal scratches. He feels whole with you, intertwined as bursts of passion taint your tongues, each sound harmonising together heavenly. “Ace.. fuck, you’re so perfect.”

You nod, trying to form a solid thought in response, but the way the tip of his cock is gliding so effortlessly into your cervix only makes you chant his name, your voice breaking with a high pitch strain.

It’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever witnessed and he kisses your ear, whispering sweet nothings into them, encouraging your onboarding orgasm. “Mmm yeah, cum for me baby, so fuckin pretty wanna watch you fall apart.”

Your climax breaks, spots of white light blurring your vision and you tighten your arms around him, clinging to the one thing grounding you from the overwhelming pleasure. His head lifts, watching with pure delight at the way your body convulses, glistening with sweat like an ethereal being. His body shakes as his hips jutter following you. Broken groans mumble against the skin of your neck as he spills his seed into you entirely.

He huffs a tired pant, not wanting to move, for he’s never felt so whole as right now. He murmurs softly, pressing a sloppy kiss to your ear, “s'good..the best ace. I could live in your pussy, just fall asleep and never wake up.”

You catch your breath, letting out a shaky laugh that makes your cunt squeeze his cock, releasing another deep groan. He shifts his cock aching sensitivity and pulls out rolling to lie beside you, wrapping an arm around your neck to tuck you into his side.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “You okay?”

Nodding with droopy eyes, you plant a kiss on his collarbone and try to calm your mind and absorb the reality of what’s just happened. “Yeah..you're definitely bigger.” You grin answering his earlier question. You blink, gazing up at him with nothing but love and a rapturous glow on your face. “but I’m ok.. im great.”

He chuckles warmly, not even caring to be cocky anymore. He tangles his hand into the still wet knot of your locks. “fuck yeah you are..and your super sure you're real?”

You pinch his thigh, making a sudden squeal come out of his mouth. “Alright! Aight, no need to seek revenge on me - I already apologised.” He jests cupping your head in a firm hold like one of his usual headlocks, but only plants a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I am sorry, though, and I mean it.” He shifts so your face is parallel to his and he admires the returning light that shines back into your eyes, a warmth that lights the darkness inside him. He brushes your check with his thumb, over the red hues adorning your cheeks, evidence of your spent state.

“I may be a twat a good portion of the time, and this-”, he gestures between the two of you. “Still scares me, so fucking much.” His words are raw and burn with a vulnerability that still sits unfamiliar in his throat. “You’re truly an enigma. I still don’t know what in the hell you see in me?”

You smile, eyes brimming with the utmost love. "I see everything you don’t.”

It’s the truth, and it always has been. The way Mattheo makes you feel is frightening, electrifying, like you’re caught in a storm and he’s your saving grace, parting the seas, giving you everything you need. How his eyes shine, reflecting your clear emotion, makes your heart beat with the force of a thousand drums stimulating the rest of your body.

A warm buzz vibrates between the two of you, knowing that all along, everything you were both missing was right there. The notion that you'll both be alright, swaddled in the new cocoon of your relationship, both finally receiving the love you deserve together.

This work is my own, please don't copy or claim. Any and all interactions are appreciated, thank you for reading! ty again @amongemeraldclouds for your love and support! couldn't have done this without you!

⤷ navigation. ⤷ masterlist. ⤷ mattheo masterlist. ⤷ Extra piece. All work is my own and is not to be copied, claimed or stolen.©️pizzaapeteer 2025.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle one shot #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys imagines #she will be loved m.r

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maskedbyghost · 7 months ago

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after the divorce, you thought you’d finally drawn a line in the sand, clear and bold, separating yourself from simon riley and everything that came with him. but simon? he wasn’t ready to step back. not fully. at first, it was silence—an absence so heavy, but then, slowly, the messages started.

they weren’t the cryptic, blunt texts you were used to during your relationship. no more “you around?” or “we need to talk.” instead, they carried a rawness that made you hesitate before opening them. one night, your phone lit up: “i’ve been sitting here, going over everything. i keep thinking about how i pushed you away, how i let my own demons ruin what we had. you didn’t deserve that. none of it.”

you read it three times before setting the phone down, heart heavy and conflicted. simon never said things like this when you were together. and yet, here he was, baring himself in a way that felt almost foreign.

then came the gifts. small, thoughtful things that carried weight. one afternoon, a neatly wrapped package appeared at your door. chamomile tea—the good kind, the kind you’d mentioned in passing during one of those rare soft moments between you. you’d joked that his taste in tea was pretentious, and he’d grumbled something about chamomile being “too bloody mild.” now, seeing it in front of you, carefully packed with a handwritten note that simply said “thought you might like this”, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

the late-night call was unexpected. his voice was rough, the way it always got when he’d had a drink, but there was a tremor in it you didn’t recognize. “i’ve started therapy,” he admitted, the words slurred but clear enough. “trying to figure out... what’s wrong in my head. i don’t want to hurt anyone else. especially not you. not ever again.”

your chest tightened at the honesty. simon had always been guarded, his emotions buried so deep even you had trouble finding them. hearing him like this—open, vulnerable—was disarming.

when you finally told him he needed to stop calling you love, his answer was immediate. “can’t do that,” he said, his voice low but steady. “it’s what you are to me. maybe i didn’t show it right before, but it doesn’t change the fact. you’ll always be my love, even if it’s just in my head.”

he wasn’t asking for anything outright, and maybe that’s what made it harder. he wasn’t begging or demanding. he was just there—offering pieces of himself you’d spent years wishing he’d share, now arriving when you weren’t sure you wanted them anymore.

simon had always been a storm, intense and unrelenting. but this? this felt different. he wasn’t trying to sweep you off your feet. he was trying to meet you where you stood, hoping you’d see the man he was trying to become. and maybe—just maybe—give him another chance.

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

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x you #simon riley

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buckyalpine · 2 years ago

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I want more mob bucky teaching a shy bambi to touch him cause she’s scared and hesitant and his sweet little princess has never touched a man before, not until she met him. (Disclaimer: all consenting adults here, reader is naïve and inexperienced but absolutely wants him just as bad)

“Are you sure?”

“Of course Bambi” Bucky purred, keeping you in his lap while sitting in his office chair. “You’re not doing anything wrong”

“But-

Your eyes flicked to his thick erection, the bulge in his pants making your stomach flip. You’d never admit out loud how many times you’d secretly glanced over, heat pooling between your legs whenever you’d catch a glimpse of his length pressing painfully hard against his pants.

You instinctively pressed your thighs together, biting back a whimper, struggling to ignore the pulse you felt between your now very soaked folds. Your parents told you over and over again that was a no no area. No one was ever to touch you there ad you definitely were not to touch someone’s private’s.

“I was told I’m not allowed” you shyly whispered, blinking innocently.

“Not allowed to what” Bucky smirked, knowing what you were talking about but he loved to make you squirm, “what are you now allowed to do baby”

“Touch-touch you there” you stuttered out, avoiding his darkened gaze.

“Awww princess, but daddy gave you permission, remember?” His nose nudges against your cheek, “I told you you’re allowed to touch me right here baby”

He guides your hand down to his clothed cock, letting you feel how hard he is for you. He presses your shaky palm against his length, holding it there while your fingers twitch with uncertainty. What if you did something that hurt him accidentally? Bucky could see the wheels in your head turning, tilting your face to kiss your lips.

“You won’t hurt me Bambi” he cooed, working at his belt buckle, letting it hit the floor before pulling his cock out. He was so thick and leaky, his silky pink tip wet with his arousal.

“But daddyy” you whined, worried you’d do something wrong, too nervous to touch him there. “That’s- we’re not allowed to touch that place, it’s your p-

“I’ll teach you, Y’know it feels good when you touch me there, C’mon, daddy’s cock is so hard baby, stroke it better, it’ll make me feel good” He’d told you countless times he’d love when you play with his cock and no one else but you is allowed to anyway. Only his Bambi can see and touch him there. You let him wrap your hand around this throbbing length as he guides your hand up and down while keeping you on his meaty thighs, the warm skin of his cock pulsing with each stroke.

“Fuck bambi” Bucky moaned, his head hitting the head of the chair, thrusting his hips up while he helped you jerk his cock, loving the way your eyes were fixated on his length, experimentally gripping him harder, "That’s it babygirl, stroke it nice and hard”

You whimpered at his words, the combination of his heavy breaths and raspy moans making that spot between your legs throb. Which didn’t go unnoticed by him the slightest. He let go of your hand letting you take over for a bit before moving you off his lap to stand between his legs.

“Daddy?- before you could finish, he hushed you, lifting you with ease to sit on his table in front of him. “Daddy, what are you-

“Shhh baby. Why are you all squirmy, hm? Are you all wet now Bambi?”

You whined in response, torn between wishing he’d do something and feeling conflicted over if this was okay. Bucky kissed up your thigh, sensing your hesitation.

“You’re not doing anything wrong baby, let me see princess” he moved you to lie down on his table while he spread your thighs apart, pulling up the dress of your skirt to reveal your cotton panties. “You’re such a good girl” he whispered, rubbing the soaked material up and down the middle of your clothed cunt.

“You made a mess in your panties baby” Bucky smirked, pushing them aside, the sight of your soaked folds too much for him to bother with restraint. He needed your pussy fully exposed to him, pulling them down your legs and shoving your thighs apart. "Look at that Bambi, my poor baby is soaking"

You pouted at him while he groaned at your sweet scent, leaning down to part your folds, pressing a soft kiss right onto your clit making you gasp. His warm lips were soft on your most sensitive parts, the sensation addicting as he kissed you there again. "Your little button is so precious baby, are you gonna let daddy play with you there?"

"P-please" you nodded, choking on your words when he sealed his lips around your bud, suckling with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the table.

He's actually such a menace though. Cause imagine he gets you to touch his cock whenever he wants. Doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing. He'll push his hips forward letting you know how hard he is for you, pulling it out and helping you stroke him till he's cumming all over your hand. You're always so shy about it and he gets off on the way you try so hard to not stare even though your mouth is watering.

He plays with your clit like its his own personal toy. Whenever you're in his lap, he's sneaking his hand into your panties, rubbing lazy circles around your silky skin. Sometimes its not even fast enough to make you cum. He just loves the moans you make when he's touching you somewhere no one else is allowed to, rubbing your most intimate parts like he owns you.

Imagine the day he lets you to put your mouth on him. His precious Bambi scared to suck cock but he's there to help her, parting her little pouty lips to slip his swollen tip till it hits her throat.

Don't even get me started on the day you first have sex. How much he's gonna coddle you in bed, reassuring you theres nothing dirty about the fact that his dick is stretching your cunt apart, all while playing with your clit making you squeal. Theres nothing filthy about how much cum he's going to flood you with. Nothing debauched about the way his heavy balls hit her ass or about the way it all feels so good, he's gonna fill you up again.

"D-daddy, are you sure?"

"Very sure Bambi, you're still my good girl"

After all how can something that feels this good be wrong?

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odileeclipse · 1 month ago

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In the Presence of Truth {"Sage of Truth" (SMC) x Reader} PT 26

<<<Previous Next>>>

You exhaled, frustrated with the careful wording. “But-”

“I understand why you sought certainty elsewhere,” he continued, not quite meeting your eyes. “It is not a crime to desire clarity.”

Your heart twisted. He was trying to let you off the hook. To take the logical approach, the reasonable stance. But the distance in his words, the way he refused to acknowledge the ache beneath it all that was what stung.

“Okay, but-” You swallowed, shifting from one foot to the other. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t bother you.”

He was silent for a long moment. His golden eyes were steady, unreadable. But beneath the quiet composure, there was something softer, something unread.

“…I am not immune to such things,” he admitted, so quietly that you almost missed it. Your breath caught. It was subtle. Barely a crack in the mask. But it was real. You took a step forward, hesitant.

But he had already exhaled, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the walls were back in place. “We need not dwell on it,” he murmured. “Unless you wish to.”

Your fingers clenched at your sides. He was frustrating. Even now, even when you could feel the tension between you, he still left the decision in your hands. He still gave you the choice. You wanted to push. To demand an answer, to hear him say outright that it did matter to him, that he did feel something more than composed acceptance.

But part of you, that small, cautious part was afraid of what you’d do if he actually said it. So instead, you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “…No. We don’t have to dwell on it.”

His expression didn’t change, but you thought you saw something ease in his posture. You chewed the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling small in the weight of the quiet. “…But if it does bother you, I want you to tell me.”

Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you for a long moment. Then, without a word, he gave a single, slow nod. A promise. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The silence between you stretched taut, thin like thread pulled too tightly. Shadow Milk Cookie hadn’t rejected your words outright, hadn’t turned away or brushed them off with his usual grace. And yet, he wasn’t answering you either. That alone made your stomach twist. You could almost convince yourself to let it go. Almost. If not for the very distinct, very loud voice of Chai Latte Cookie echoing in your head…

"Oh, so you just walked away? Just like that? Gods, you are hopeless…"

And nope, you were not dealing with that tonight. You exhaled sharply through your nose, squaring your shoulders. “You say you’re not mad,” you started, keeping your voice even, “but I know when something’s bothering you.”

A blink. A slow tilt of his head. “I have never concealed the truth from you,” he said calmly.

“That doesn’t mean you tell me everything,” you shot back, quick. A flicker of something passed through his gaze, there and gone before you could name it. “…What is it that you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, throwing your hands up. “I just” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to keep the frustration at bay. “It just feels like something’s wrong. And you’re not saying it.”

Shadow Milk studied you carefully, fingers laced together in his lap. “Would you feel better if I gave it words?” Yes. No. Maybe. You hesitated. He watched the conflict cross your face, then, softer almost gently he asked,

“…Would naming it change what you already know?” You swallowed. He wasn’t denying it. He wasn’t telling you no. He was just making you work for the truth, again.

“Stars above, you are infuriating,” you groaned, pressing your palms to your face.

“Undoubtedly,” he agreed. You let out a heavy sigh, then, before you could lose the momentum, you asked “…Did it hurt?”

Another silence. This time, it wasn’t because he was thinking of the right words to use. It was because he already knew them. When he finally spoke, it was quiet, measured “…Yes.”

No flourish. No philosophical musings. No metaphor spun from light and knowledge. Just one word. You searched his face for something, anything, but he had already composed himself again, golden eyes steady, patient, waiting.

“…Okay,” you murmured. You still didn’t know what to do with this. What this changed. If it changed anything at all. But for once, you had the answer you wanted. You let out a breath, your shoulders sagging as the weight of his honesty settled over you.

He had answered you. Had admitted to the hurt but what were you supposed to do with that? You chewed the inside of your cheek, staring at him, feeling the helplessness rise in your chest. You were expecting something cryptic, something layered, something you could untangle later. But he had just… said it. Plain and clear. And you had no idea what to do with it.

“…Okay,” you murmured again, softer this time. You looked away, fingers tightening in your lap. “I” A pause, a slow exhale. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

Shadow Milk Cookie’s expression didn’t change, but you could feel the way he studied you, taking in every flicker of uncertainty, every hesitance in your voice. You huffed, rubbing a hand over your face. “What can I do?” You looked back at him, brows drawn together, frustration tinged with something raw. “So you’re not hurting?” He didn’t answer right away.

It sucked, not knowing what to do, not knowing how to fix this. You were a mess of emotions, but at least you felt them fully, unguarded, reckless in your own way. He was careful, composed, measured, even in this.

You let out another sigh, shaking your head. “Chai Latte usually knows what to do,” you muttered, more to yourself than him. “But unfortunately, she’s not here.” The words barely left your lips before you huffed out a weak laugh, running a hand through your hair. “Not that she could fix this.” There was another beat of silence before he spoke, voice quiet but steady.

“You are not required to fix everything,” he murmured. “Nor am I asking you to.” You swallowed, but something in his words still made your chest ache. “…Then what are you asking?”

He watched you carefully, his expression unreadable, but his next words were softer than before “For you to understand.” You felt the weight of that settle deep in your ribs. Maybe that was the closest thing to an answer you were going to get. You inhaled sharply, catching yourself before you could default to humor; to deflection.

It was instinct, really, to try and soften the edges of something too sharp, to push aside the weight pressing against your chest with something light, something easier. But this wasn’t easy. And trying to make it so would only cheapen it. So instead, you swallowed the urge to brush it off and met his gaze fully.

“…What do you want me to understand?” you asked, voice steadier than you expected. “Because I do want to understand.”

Shadow Milk Cookie studied you, his eyes as unreadable as ever. But there was something in them you could almost decipher, not distant, but careful. Like he was measuring his words, measuring you.

“What did I do?” you pressed, leaning forward slightly. “I mean, I know something upset you. I know that. But I don’t want to assume. I don’t want to sit here and untangle riddles and guesses when I could just…just ask you. So tell me.”

His fingers twitched slightly against his desk, and you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed for the briefest moment. It was subtle, controlled, but it was there. “You turned to someone else,” he finally said, his voice as measured as ever, but you could feel the weight behind it. “For clarity. For certainty.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “And you feel like I shouldn’t have?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I feel as though you believe I could not provide what you sought.”

You blinked, your stomach twisting. “That’s not-” You exhaled sharply. “It’s not that I don’t think you could, it’s that you wouldn’t.”

His brows furrowed slightly, just enough for you to notice. You ran a hand through your hair, frustration bleeding into your voice. “You never give me a straight answer. You always ask me more questions, always make me figure things out myself. And I get it, I do that’s who you are. You guide, you lead people to truth rather than hand it to them.” You swallowed, looking down at your hands. “But sometimes… sometimes I just need something certain. Something I don’t have to search for.”

There was a silence between you, thick and heavy. And then, softer than before “You already have it.” Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “You seek certainty,” he murmured. “But you fail to see that you already possess it.” You opened your mouth, but no words came. His gaze held yours, unwavering.

“I would not remain by your side if I did not wish to.” Your breath stilled. “Nor would I offer my hand if I intended to let go.”

The weight of his words pressed into you, a truth undeniable. Something in your chest ached. Your brows furrowed, confusion knitting its way across your face.

“That’s” you started, but stopped, shaking your head. “That’s not fair.” Shadow Milk Cookie tilted his head ever so slightly, unreadable as always, but you could feel the weight behind his gaze, the way it pressed into you like a question unspoken.

You swallowed, exhaling sharply. “Look, I-I hear you. I want to hear you. But I’m only human. And sometimes I don’t see what’s right in front of me.” You gestured vaguely between the two of you, frustration creeping into your tone. “If I knew, if it was so obvious, then I wouldn’t be standing here trying to figure it out, would I?”

The silence that followed was thick, a quiet so full it threatened to suffocate. Your chest tightened as the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them. “Earl Grey is one of the very few friends that I love-” You froze. The second you said it, you knew. You knew how it sounded. Your breath caught in your throat, and without thinking, you immediately waved your hands as if that could physically push the word back into the void. “I mean, not like that!” you blurted out, scrambling to fix your own mistake. “Not, not in that way! I just I mean, I love him, but not like that, that would be weird”

Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t move, didn’t even blink. But you felt it the shift, the tightening of something just beneath the surface. You swallowed hard, heat crawling up your neck as you kept spiraling. “What I meant is, he’s my friend, like Chai Latte Cookie and Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie, because we grew up together, and he’s-he’s someone I trust someone who always gives me a straight answer”

Your voice trailed off, the weight of the moment crashing down on you. Shadow Milk Cookie was silent. And that made it worse.

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “I just… I don’t think it’s fair to assume I should already know where we stand.”

Your voice wavered, frustration mingling with something raw. “Because I don’t. And if I did, then we wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place, would we? A-And to top it off all he was doing was supporting me it’s not like I told him hey what do you think me and shadow milk are define it for me in five different languages please”

Still, he said nothing. You swallowed, something almost desperate threading into your tone. “So if I did something wrong, tell me. If I’m missing something, tell me because I want to understand, I want to fix it, but I can’t do that if you just expect me to figure it out on my own.”

Your heart pounded, pulse hammering against your ribs. And then, at last, Shadow Milk Cookie exhaled. Slow. Measured. The tension in the air thickened, something shifting in Shadow Milk Cookie’s expression something rare, something sharp. His composure, always so steady, finally wavered.

“You needed someone to say it?” His voice was low, quiet, but lined with something unmistakable. Frustration. “You needed someone to define it for you? So you turned to him?” You flinched at the way he said it him like the word alone was bitter on his tongue.

“I-” Shadow Milk Cookie got up from his chair took a step closer, his golden eyes dark with something you had never seen before. “Tell me, did it feel real then?” His tone wasn’t cruel, not exactly, but it carried an edge that cut all the same.

“Did holding his hands make you feel certain of what you wanted? Did his words finally name the thing you claim to be so unsure of?” Your throat tightened.

“That’s not-”

“You seek my truths,” he interrupted, voice clipped. “But when it comes to this us you look elsewhere. Why is that?”

The words hit harder than you expected, and you had to take a breath before responding. “…Okay. Fair.” You exhaled shakily, pressing your fingers against your forehead. “I deserved that.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. You forced a humorless laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “I know what it looked like. And I won’t sit here and act like it didn’t look bad. But you need to understand…I wasn’t looking for something better than what you could give me. I was looking for something clear.”

Shadow Milk Cookie remained silent, watching you carefully, his breathing measured but not entirely even. “I didn’t go to him because I wanted him,” you continued, voice steady now. “I went to him because I trust him. Because he knows me, because he’s been around long enough to see me flounder through every uncertainty in my life. And I thought”

You swallowed. “I thought that maybe, for once, someone else could put it into words instead of me having to reach for something I still don’t know how to hold.”

He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders shifting, but not entirely easing. You met his gaze, unflinching. “You’re right to be mad,” you admitted. “I should have come to you first. But you have to admit you don’t make this easy.”

A pause. A long, heavy one.

Then, finally, Shadow Milk Cookie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No,” he said, exasperated. “I suppose I do not.”

You let out a breath, the weight between you shifting just slightly. It wasn’t fixed, not entirely. But at least now, the words were out. You exhaled sharply, raking a hand through your hair, trying to figure out where to even start.

“Okay context” you said, voice tinged with frustration, mostly at yourself. “Because I feel like you’re imagining something way more dramatic than what actually happened.” Shadow Milk Cookie remained silent, watching you carefully, his expression unreadable but the tension in his posture still firm.

You inhaled again, steeling yourself. “So, it started because Chai Latte asked me about us. She asked what was going on, what we were…if we were anything at all.”

His expression didn’t change, but you caught the slightest flicker in his golden gaze. You continued, shifting your weight uneasily. “And I didn’t really know what to tell her, because I don’t know. So I said that we’re… close. That we have this understanding, this rhythm. But there’s still this barrier, this thing we don’t talk about, and it’s starting to feel like it’s keeping us from something.” Shadow Milk Cookie’s gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t speak. He just listened.

“And then Earl Grey…” You hesitated, feeling yourself losing your footing again, but forced yourself forward. “He said maybe you were waiting for me to define it. That maybe you were giving me room, instead of putting pressure on it.”

Still, no response. But you saw something shift subtle, beneath the layers of his composure. You bit your lip. “And then Chai Latte asked me if not knowing still hurt, and yeah. Yeah, it does. Because it’s like we’re pretending the line isn’t there, but we both know it is. And it’s frustrating, and confusing, and I just. I needed someone to tell me I wasn’t making it up in my head.”

Your voice had become quieter, the words trailing off into the space between you. “That’s all I was looking for. I wasn’t asking Earl Grey for something you wouldn’t give me. I wasn’t” You sighed. “I wasn’t choosing him over you.”

Shadow Milk Cookie exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders shifting, though not entirely easing. His gaze remained steady, searching yours, as if weighing your words, measuring them against something unspoken. You swallowed, feeling like you were walking on thin ice. “I wasn’t looking for something better than what we have. Just something clear. And maybe that’s unfair to you, but I-” You shook your head. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

A long silence stretched between you.

Then, finally soft, measured, but undeniably firm Shadow Milk Cookie spoke.

“…And do you have your answer now?”

You opened your mouth, then hesitated. Because what was the answer? That you still didn’t know? That you were still standing at the same threshold, waiting for something, anything, to push you forward? “I don’t know,” you admitted finally, voice almost reluctant. “Not completely.”

His gaze didn’t falter. “Then what will you do with what you do know?”

You let out a short, almost incredulous laugh. “Gods, this again?” You threw your hands up. “I ask a question, you answer with another question…I swear you do this on purpose.” Something softened in his expression just barely, just enough that the irritation drained from your chest slightly.

You sighed, running a hand down your face. “What do you want me to understand?” you asked finally, your voice quieter. “Because I do want to understand.” Shadow Milk Cookie studied you for a long moment, his golden eyes searching yours in that way that always made you feel like he could see every inch of your soul.

Then, at last, he exhaled a slow, deliberate breath. And he said, “That you were never meant to seek certainty in someone else.” Shadow Milk Cookie remained still, his golden gaze locked onto yours, the weight of his presence heavy yet unreadable. The tension in the room lingered, an unspoken verdict hanging in the air. You shifted, exhaling slowly before speaking again, voice softer now.

"Okay," you murmured, as if sealing something sacred between you both. "Then… when it comes to this whatever we are I won’t seek answers anywhere else." The promise felt heavier than you expected. It settled deep in your chest, final in a way you hadn’t prepared for. No more looking to Earl Grey Cookie, no more second-guessing with Chai Latte Cookie or Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie….just the two of you, stumbling through this uncertainty together.

"But," you continued, voice lilting into something more playful, "please don’t stay mad at Earl Grey. I need him. Sometimes, if I bribe him enough, he does my homework."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, against all odds, Shadow Milk Cookie let out a quiet, breathy exhale not quite a laugh, but something near it. His head tilted slightly, as if amused despite himself. "Does he now?" he mused, voice still measured but laced with something lighter.

You grinned, encouraged by the shift in the air. "Yeah. And I worked really hard to build up my bribery system. I offer him peace and quiet in the library, sometimes I even make him tea" You leaned in just slightly, as if confessing something devious. "One time I even stole a pastry for him."

"A criminal enterprise," Shadow Milk murmured, gaze flickering with something indecipherable.

"Exactly!" You huffed dramatically. "So if you hold this against him, my whole operation collapses. And then who’s going to keep me from failing numerical alchemy?"

He hummed, considering. "A tragic fate indeed."

"You’re telling me."

There was a pause brief but filled with something unspoken, something easier now. The tension between you had not entirely faded, but it had shifted, no longer sharp, no longer an open wound. You weren’t fixed…this wasn’t fixed. But it was something.

Shadow Milk Cookie exhaled slowly, then, after a moment, inclined his head. "I will not hold it against him."

You blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Yes," he said, tilting his head just slightly. "On one condition."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "What condition?"

He leaned forward just enough that the space between you felt smaller, his gaze steady. "That next time you have questions about us," he said, low and sure, "you ask me first."

Your breath hitched slightly, heart stuttering at the sheer weight of the words.

Slowly, carefully, you nodded. "Deal."

And just like that, the barrier between you both thinned just a little more.

You hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, wrapping your arms around him in a firm, earnest embrace. It wasn’t hesitant or unsure it was the kind of hug that sought to pull down whatever walls still lingered, the kind that said, I don’t want to be at odds with you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, voice muffled slightly against the fabric of his clothes. "I don’t want to be upset with you. I never did." For a long moment, he didn’t move. But then, slowly, you felt his arms come around you, careful but firm, as if grounding himself in your presence. His touch was warm, steady like something meant to last. You swallowed, the words pressing against your throat before you could second-guess them.

"But…" You exhaled softly, fingers curling slightly. "I need to know. What are we?" You felt his breath hitch, ever so slightly. "If we’re partners, then say it," you continued, voice quieter now. "Or if you want us to stay undefined, then tell me that too. But I" You swallowed. "I want to know what you want. I want to hear you say it."

Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled back just enough to look at you properly, golden eyes searching yours with that same quiet intensity that always made your heart feel unsteady. His hands remained on you, warm against your shoulders, holding you there not keeping you, not trapping you, but anchoring you.

And then, finally, he spoke.

"I do not seek mere companionship," he murmured. His voice was soft, but there was an unmistakable weight to it. "I do not walk beside you simply because it is convenient or pleasant."

Your chest tightened.

"I will exist for a long time," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "And yet, I find myself wanting for nothing else but this."

His thumb brushed absentmindedly against your sleeve, as if mapping the moment into memory. "If you would have me, then I would be yours as a partner, as more, as whatever name you would wish to give it."

Your breath caught.

"But only if it is what you want," he added, voice gentler now, as if afraid to ask too much. Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of the moment pressing into you, warm and consuming. There were no riddles this time, no half-answers hidden behind layers of philosophy.

This was just him. Your lips parted, but no words came at first, just breath just the realization of everything he'd just offered. Everything you both had been too afraid to name until now. And then, with a small, quiet laugh one filled with something like relief, like understanding you nodded.

"Yeah," you murmured. "Yeah, I think I’d like that." Shadow Milk Cookie’s fingers tightened, just slightly, against your arms. Maybe the barrier between you truly disappeared. You shifted slightly in his hold, tilting your head up to look at him, trying to ease the weight in the air with something lighter something that made this moment feel less fragile, less like a thread you might snap if you weren’t careful.

"So," you said, a playful lilt creeping into your tone, "on a scale of one to ten, how mad were you? And more importantly who were you mad at?" You waggled your brows for extra effect.

"Be honest. Was it me? Earl Grey? The concept of human interaction?" Shadow Milk Cookie sighed one of those long, tired ones that felt like it belonged to someone who had lived far too many years and still had yet to understand why mortals acted the way they did. His grip on you didn’t loosen, but his eyes half-lidded with something unreadable.

"You truly wish for me to quantify my frustration?" he mused, arching a delicate brow.

You grinned. "Absolutely."

A pause. Then, with alarming precision, he replied, "Seven."

Your mouth dropped open. "Seven?! That's high! I was expecting, like, a four, maybe a five! Six if you were being dramatic."

Shadow Milk Cookie gave you a slow, pointed look. "Seven."

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "Okay, okay, fine. Who was it aimed at? Me? Earl Grey? The entire notion of emotionally repressed scholars trying to navigate their relationships without imploding?"

He exhaled slowly, and for a moment, you thought he might actually let the joke slide. But instead ever the scholar he answered you plainly. "Four points belong to you."

You gasped. "Excuse me?! I get a four?! For what? Trying to sort out my emotions? For wanting clarity?!"

"You sought clarity," he corrected smoothly, "but you sought it elsewhere." He tilted his head, as if studying you like a particularly challenging text. "That is where the four comes from."

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Okay. Fair. Fair.

You crossed your arms. "And the other three?"

Shadow Milk Cookie's lips curled ever so slightly. "Earl Grey."

You snorted, then immediately clamped a hand over your mouth. "Oh no."

He did not elaborate.

You took a careful step back, watching the unreadable glint in his golden gaze. "Okay, but you’re not going to, like… sabotage his tea leaves or anything, right?"

"I am above such pettiness."

"...You hesitated."

"I did not."

"You did, I heard it!"

He merely hummed, a noise that sounded both knowing and entirely too neutral for your comfort. You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. "Alright, alright. I get it. I deserve my four. But can I earn my way back to a three? Or even a respectable two-point-five? Because I would really like to lower my crimes in the court of Shadow Milk."

He regarded you for a moment, then, with unnerving smoothness, said, "I accept bribes."

You gaped at him. You huffed, crossing your arms with exaggerated indignation. “Fine,” you drawled, tilting your head with mock exasperation. “If we’re playing this game, then what do you want? Name your price, oh great and wise one. What must I sacrifice to lessen my crimes?”

Shadow Milk Cookie hummed, eyes gleaming as he took his time considering, tapping his fingers idly against his sleeve. He was enjoying this far too much, if you had to guess.

“A proper bribe must be proportional to the severity of the offense,” he mused, tilting his head slightly as if weighing his options. “And yours, I recall, ranked at a seven.”

You groaned. “You’re really sticking to that number, huh?”

“I am nothing if not precise.” You muttered something incoherent under your breath, but Shadow Milk didn’t seem remotely fazed. If anything, he looked downright pleased with himself.

“Alright,” he continued, regarding you with that unreadable yet slightly mischievous expression of his. “If you wish to lower your score… I will accept one of three offerings.”

You squinted suspiciously. “Oh, three offerings? So now I choose my punishment?”

“I am nothing if not generous.”

You rolled your eyes, but gestured for him to go on. “Alright, lay them on me. What are my options?” Shadow Milk Cookie’s lips curled ever so slightly, a whisper of amusement passing through his gaze. “Option one: an essay. Minimum ten pages. On the subject of why seeking truth from unreliable sources is a grave mistake.”

Your mouth fell open in absolute horror. “TEN PAGES?” He inclined his head. “Minimum.”

“Absolutely not,” you said immediately. “What else you got?”

“Option two.” He held up a single, elegant finger. “You may publicly declare that I am always right, in front of all our friends. And,” he added smoothly, “that you were terribly mistaken to ever doubt me.”

You made a scandalized noise. “Oh, you would enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

You sighed, pressing your palms together. “Alright, third option, oh merciful one?” Shadow Milk Cookie leaned forward ever so slightly, a glint of something far too entertained flickering across his features. “A kiss,” he said simply.

You choked. “Excuse me?” He arched a single brow. “A kiss,” he repeated, entirely unaffected by the way your face had surely turned crimson. “One that is freely given, of course. I would never demand an unwilling tribute.”

“Oh, tribute now?” you sputtered, half-wheezing, half-wondering how you ever got yourself into this. “You’re actually serious?”

“I would not have offered it otherwise,” he said smoothly. You gawked at him, heart hammering, mind scrambling for anything to counter with. But he merely leaned back, utterly unbothered, utterly composed as he watched you flounder.

“Well?” he prompted, entirely too pleased with himself. “Which shall it be?” You slipped out of his arms, pacing a small circle around his office like a scholar on the verge of an intellectual breakthrough.

Hands clasped behind your back, you hummed thoughtfully, nodding to yourself as if the weight of your impending verdict was a matter of utmost importance. Shadow Milk Cookie watched, entirely composed, one brow arched in clear amusement. He didn’t interrupt didn’t press you for an answer just observed with that knowing glint in his eyes, as if he already knew the conclusion you would come to. You, of course, already knew too.

But for the sake of theatrics, you had to pretend to struggle with your options. You rubbed your chin, adopting a dramatically serious expression.

“Now, let’s analyze this logically.” You began to pace again. “A ten-page essay on why I should never doubt you?” You let out a loud scoff, throwing your hands in the air. “Impossible! An insurmountable task! I’d perish before I reached the third page!”

Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t so much as blink. “Unfortunate.” You ignored him, continuing your performance.

“The second option: a public declaration of your undeniable correctness, and a full admission of my egregious mistake.”

You placed a hand over your heart, as if wounded. “Ah, but alas! To speak such words before witnesses, to willingly feed your ego in front of Chai Latte Cookie, Earl Grey Cookie, and Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie? I would never recover!”

“Fascinating,” he mused. Your pacing slowed. You turned on your heel, finally facing him, your expression shifting from exaggerated suffering to something more calculated. More certain.

“That leaves only one option,” you murmured.

His golden gaze was steady, unshaken. “Indeed.”

A pause. Then, ever so casually “Well, I guess I’ll start drafting that essay-”

Before you could take another step, Shadow Milk Cookie reached out, fingers curling gently around your wrist. Not tight not demanding just enough to halt your retreat, just enough to keep you in place. You stilled, heart stuttering. His touch was warm. Steady. You met his eyes, and suddenly, the theatrics didn’t feel as necessary anymore. There was something in his gaze that made the moment feel weightless.

As if, beneath all the teasing, beneath all the playful back-and-forth, there was a quiet invitation in the way he held you there. Not a demand. Not an expectation. Just… waiting.

You exhaled slowly, your pulse a restless rhythm against your ribs. Then, with a sigh of faux defeat, you let yourself be pulled back toward him. “Fine,” you murmured, lips curling slightly. “You win.”

“I usually do,” he murmured back.

And before he could say another infuriating word, you leaned in and kissed him. You pulled back just slightly, not far enough to break the warmth between you, but enough to catch the flicker of something unguarded in his eyes. His golden gaze, always so sharp, so knowing, had softened just a little. Like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with the moment you’d handed him. You studied him for a beat, then tilted your head, your voice a quiet tease but carrying a weight beneath it.

“Well?” you asked, lips barely suppressing a smirk. “Are you happy with yourself?” Shadow Milk Cookie blinked once, slow and measured, as if truly considering it. Then, his lips curled not into his usual knowing smirk, not into something grand or theatrical, but into something softer. Something real.

“…Yes,” he murmured. “Immensely.” Your chest ached not in a painful way, but in that annoying, wonderful way that came from realizing just how much you felt for him. Still, you refused to let him have the last word so easily.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Ugh. You’re so smug about it.”

“I believe the proper term is vindicated,” he corrected smoothly. You groaned, dramatically slumping against him like the weight of his self-satisfaction was simply too much to bear. “I take it back. I should have just written the essay.”

He chuckled, a rare, low sound, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I would have graded it ruthlessly.”

“Of course you would have,” you mumbled, your forehead still resting against his shoulder.

His hand found the small of your back, resting there like a quiet reassurance. “But you chose the wiser path.”

You sighed dramatically. “I suppose.” He hummed, and the sound was almost fond. “You suppose?” You lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze again, feeling warmth creep up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

His fingers curled just slightly against your back, his voice dipping to something quieter. “No promises.” You leaned back just enough to take him in, eyes flickering over his features composed, unreadable, yet carrying the smallest flicker of something beneath the surface. Smug, as always. Secure in his victory. Well. That simply wouldn’t do. So, on pure impulse, without warning, without pretense.

You kissed him again. It was nothing grand, nothing calculated or poetic. Just a soft press of your lips against his, a decision made without hesitation. And this time, it worked. You felt him freeze. The smirk he had been carrying so effortlessly vanished like mist under the sun, his composure breaking in a way you’d never seen before. His breath hitched, his fingers twitched slightly where they rested against you, he looked utterly caught off guard.

His face bloomed in warmth, color rushing to his cheeks in a way that felt almost surreal. Shadow Milk Cookie the Sage of Truth, the Fount of Knowledge, the ever-unshaken scholar was blushing. You pulled back just slightly, blinking at him. And then you grinned.

“Oh,” you mused, utterly delighted. “Oh. You’re flustered.” Shadow Milk Cookie cleared his throat, turning his face slightly, though the betrayal of color on his skin remained. “I-” He exhaled sharply, golden eyes darting away for a brief moment, as if trying to recollect himself. “That was unprompted.”

You laughed, light, full of something almost victorious. “Was it?” His gaze snapped back to you, sharp, narrowed but that warmth hadn’t left him. “You-” He exhaled again, softer this time, and lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, as if trying to summon some divine patience.

You merely rocked back slightly, resting your chin on your palm, studying him with all the amusement in the world. “I take it that means I won this round?”

His lips parted likely to counter with something witty, something to salvage his pride but no words came. Instead, after a long pause, he sighed. “You are…” He trailed off, as if searching for the exact right phrase, before shaking his head slightly, voice quieter when he finally spoke.

“…Absolutely impossible.”

You smiled. “So I’m told.” His gaze softened, and though the warmth hadn’t faded from his cheeks, there was something else in his expression now.

Something fond.

“…Indeed,” he murmured.

That was perhaps the real victory. Your victorious grin lingered for a moment longer before, suddenly, realization struck like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes widened. “Oh!” Shadow Milk Cookie barely had time to react before you grabbed his hands, your excitement surging in an instant. “The Spire!”

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your sudden shift in energy. “…What about it?” You nearly bounced in place, your earlier mischief momentarily forgotten. “We got in! All of us! Me, Chai Latte, Earl Grey, Hazelnut Biscotti all of us got into the Spire of Knowledge!”

“…You did.”

You beamed at him, nodding rapidly. “We did! I mean, I knew the others would get in, but me?” You laughed, somewhere between exhilarated and still slightly stunned. “I honestly thought I’d be scraping by if I got in at all. But then, bam my name was right there on the list.”

You squeezed his hands lightly, eyes shining. “It had to be your recommendation letter. That’s what did it.”

His brow arched slightly. “And here I thought your own merit played a role in it.”

You scoffed playfully, nudging him with your shoulder. “Oh, please. We both know I was struggling not too long ago. The only reason I didn’t flunk my way straight into academic exile is because you’re a ridiculously good tutor.”

His lips curved ever so slightly, but his tone remained measured. “I recall saying you had potential. You simply needed guidance.”

“And, oh, what guidance it was,” you teased. “Your incredible patience, your endless wisdom your unparalleled ability to confuse me with riddles until I understood the material out of sheer spite”

He let out a quiet hum, shaking his head in amusement. “I do not recall ‘spite-driven comprehension’ being a recognized academic method.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He chuckled, and stars, you wished you could capture that sound, tuck it away somewhere safe.

Your grin softened slightly, your excitement still bubbling beneath the surface but with something else now something grateful. “…Thank you,” you said, quieter this time. “Really. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you for a long moment, his golden eyes steady, warm. Then, with a voice equally as soft, he murmured,

“I simply illuminated the path. You were the one who walked it.” And damn it, he always had to make things sound poetic, didn’t he? You huffed, but your smile didn’t waver. Instead, you squeezed his hands once more, rocking back on your heels. “Okay, okay, enough of that should we celebrate? Because I personally think this calls for excessive amounts of dessert.”

Shadow Milk Cookie exhaled, though his expression betrayed his amusement. “Excessive, you say?”

“Absolutely excessive,” you confirmed, determined. “We’re talking at least three pastries and a cup of tea so sweet it should be illegal.”

He tilted his head slightly, considering. “…And if I were to decline?”

You gasped, feigning offense. “I’d simply have to make up for your share. A sacrifice, truly, but one I’d be willing to bear.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and finally he nodded.

“Very well,” he said, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Lead the way, then.” And just like that, your victory tasted even sweeter.

As you entered the dining hall, the first thing you noticed was complete and utter chaos.

“HAZELNUT BISCUOTTI COOKIE, YOU ABSOLUTE FIEND GET BACK HERE!”

Chai Latte Cookie’s furious voice rang through the air, followed by the thunderous sound of running footsteps. Students instinctively cleared out of the way as Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie sprinted past the tables, a guilty grin stretched across his face and a half-eaten pastry clutched in one hand.

You blinked.

Shadow Milk Cookie, standing beside you, exhaled deeply, already looking regretful about following you here. Your gaze landed on Earl Grey Cookie, who stood completely unfazed near the buffet station, watching the scene unfold with all the emotional investment of someone observing a light drizzle.

You approached him cautiously. “What’s going on?” Without missing a beat, Earl Grey Cookie, still holding his tray with perfect balance, responded, “Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie took the last almond puff pastry. Chai Latte Cookie was two seconds too late.”

You looked at him incredulously. “So, she’s trying to kill him over a pastry?”

“She’s making a point,” he corrected smoothly.

“I called dibs!” Chai Latte Cookie shouted, narrowly avoiding knocking over an entire stack of plates as she chased Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie in circles around the tables.

“It was a suggestion at best!” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie called back, absolutely delighted with himself.

“You knew I was going to get it!” she seethed.

Earl Grey Cookie gave a slight shrug. “She did mention it before we got here.” Shadow Milk Cookie, watching this absurd display, muttered under his breath, “I should not have come. I’ll turn a blind eye and walk off.”

You patted his arm, grinning. “No, no. This is exactly what you needed.” Before he could reply, Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie made the fatal mistake of slowing down just enough for Chai Latte Cookie to pounce. With a dramatic yelp, he toppled forward, and the remains of the pastry flew from his hands, landing unceremoniously on the floor. A collective gasp echoed across the dining hall.

Chai Latte Cookie froze. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie stared at the ruined pastry, his expression one of deep regret. “No,” he whispered. Earl Grey Cookie sighed. “This is a tragedy.” Chai Latte Cookie slowly turned to Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie, expression unreadable.

“You fool,” she murmured. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay. Now, before you do anything-” She lunged.

You sighed, shaking your head.

Shadow Milk looked your way “Are they always like this?” Earl Grey Cookie took a calm sip of tea. “It happens more often than it should.”

Shadow Milk Cookie ignored him massaging his temples, clearly questioning every decision that had led him to this moment. You nudged him playfully. “See? This is what a real meal looks like. A little food, a little fighting, a little public humiliation.”

Shadow Milk Cookie exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing at the commotion. “…This is why I take my meals alone.” You grinned. “Not today.” And with one last dramatic wail from Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie as Chai Latte Cookie rattled him by the collar, you led Shadow Milk Cookie forward straight into the madness.

The dining hall was alive, buzzing with the usual lunchtime chaos, but something about it felt warmer like an extension of something familiar. Shadow Milk Cookie, despite his usual air of composure, looked somewhat out of place at first, standing among the whirlwind that was your friends.

But then, the small things settled in the way Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie patted his back in greeting like he was just another one of you, the way Earl Grey Cookie shifted slightly to make room at the table without a second thought, the way Chai Latte Cookie practically threw an extra pastry on his plate as if daring him not to eat it. It was seamless.

Effortless. Like he belonged. For a moment, you glanced at him just to see if he felt it too. His expression was unreadable, but there was something softer in his posture, in the way his fingers rested lightly against the edge of the table rather than retreating into his sleeves. Then, of course, Chai Latte Cookie ruined the moment.

“So,” she drawled, elbow on the table, chin resting in her hand, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Is the lover’s quarrel over?” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie choked on his drink. Earl Grey Cookie let out a tired sigh, already looking as if he wished to be anywhere else.

Your entire body stiffened. Shadow Milk Cookie, to his credit, merely lifted an eyebrow, calm but unimpressed. You, however, absolutely did not have his composure.

“Chai” you hissed, eyes widening in horror.

“What?” She blinked at you innocently, as if she hadn’t just set fire to the table with her words. “I’m just checking in. You stormed off after him. Came back visibly shaken. Left again and now you return together? The narrative is narrating itself, babe.”

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie, recovering from his near-death experience, grinned. “To be fair, she’s got a point.”

“She does not have a point,” you sputtered. “We-we weren’t even fighting-”

“Oh?” Chai Latte Cookie’s smile widened. “So, you were having a lovers’ moment then?” Shadow Milk Cookie exhaled deeply, reaching for his tea in a way that definitely suggested he was questioning his life choices. You, however, were floundering.

“That’s No That’s not-”

You turned to Earl Grey Cookie, eyes pleading. “Say something.” Earl Grey Cookie, traitor that he was, simply took a slow sip of tea and said, “I think this is best left between you two.”

Chai Latte Cookie beamed, satisfied. You groaned, dropping your head against the table. “I hate all of you.”

Shadow Milk Cookie, finally speaking, murmured with mild amusement, “I believe that is untrue.” You peeked up at him, only to find the faintest trace of a smirk at the corner of his lips. Your stomach flipped. Chai Latte Cookie wiggled her eyebrows. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie nodded sagely. “Undeniable.” You let out the longest sigh of your life.

This was going to be a long lunch. You lifted your head just in time to see Chai Latte Cookie grinning like the embodiment of mischief itself, Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie looking way too entertained, and Earl Grey Cookie sipping his tea with the kind of serene detachment that only came from thinking he was above this nonsense but still enjoying the spectacle.

Shadow Milk Cookie, however, was the wild card. Because he was looking at you calm, measured but there was something in his gaze. Something knowing.

Something dangerous. “Well,” he mused, setting down his tea with an infuriating amount of elegance. “If we are to entertain the notion of a lover’s quarrel, one must consider the root of the conflict.”

You froze. Chai Latte Cookie perked up. “Go on.”

“I have merely been waiting,” Shadow Milk Cookie continued smoothly, “for our dear scholar to provide an explanation. After all, there was a rather… passionate pursuit through the corridors earlier. And an equally passionate moment of hesitation.”

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie whistled. “Passionate, huh?” Your face burned. “That’s not what happened-”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Earl Grey Cookie finally chimed in, setting his cup down with practiced grace. “I seem to recall you gripping my hands rather fervently last night. Wouldn’t you say so?” Shadow milk cast him a glare.

You snapped toward him. “You are not helping!”

“I’m simply recounting the events as they happened,” Earl Grey Cookie replied, expression entirely neutral except for the slightest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. Chai Latte Cookie gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest.

“Wait, wait, wait- so you were caught in a love triangle moment?” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie leaned in. “Are you telling us we had front-row seats to some academic level romantic tension and nobody informed us?”

“There is no love triangle,” you said frantically, waving your hands in protest. “I just…Earl Grey Cookie is a good friend! I needed guidance! I-I-” You turned to Shadow Milk Cookie, desperate. “Help me out here!”

But he simply tilted his head, expression unreadable. “…I fail to see the problem,” he murmured. You stared at him. “You fail to see the problem?” you repeated, betrayed.

“I fail to see how I have said anything untrue,” he replied smoothly. “After all, it is not I who reached for Earl Grey Cookie’s hands with such desperate longing”

“WHAT” You threw your arms up, half-ready to ascend into the astral plane out of sheer mortification. “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE.”

“Oh, I am,” Shadow Milk Cookie said, with the kind of smile that immediately set off alarms in your head. “Which is why I would never deny you your moment of reflection.”

“Oh my god” Chai Latte Cookie cackled. “Betrayal from within! I love it.”

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie wiped away a fake tear. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Earl Grey Cookie, traitor supreme, simply sipped his tea again, the very picture of composure. You buried your face in your hands.

“I hate all of you,” you groaned, muffled. Shadow Milk Cookie leaned in, voice as infuriatingly composed as ever. “Untrue,” he murmured, way too close to your ear. Your entire body betrayed you, heat crawling up your neck as you jerked upright and shoved your chair back.

“Absolutely not.”

Chai Latte Cookie gasped again, clutching Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie’s arm. “That! that was blushing. Tell me you saw that.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie nodded rapidly. “Oh, absolutely saw that.”

“I don’t blush,” you lied through your teeth.

Earl Grey Cookie raised a brow. “Curious, then, that your face is rather warm-looking at the moment.”

You pointed an accusatory finger at Shadow Milk Cookie. “You-you are supposed to be wise and dignified and not a menace” He blinked at you, completely unbothered. “And yet, I have never made such a claim.”

You gaped at him. Chai Latte Cookie laughed so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. Shadow Milk Cookie simply picked up his tea again, utterly victorious. And you swore to the gods that one day, somehow, you’d get back at him for this.

You let out a dramatic sigh, slumping back against your chair. “I thought your wrath was over,” you bemoaned, shooting a glance at Shadow Milk Cookie, who was taking an unhurried sip of his tea.

“But clearly, you still have some lingering feelings.” He lowered his cup, tilting his head slightly, golden eyes watching you with something unreadable but undeniably intentional. “Lingering feelings?” he echoed, voice laced with an infuriating amount of amusement. “A fascinating observation.”

Chai Latte Cookie let out a quiet hmm of delight, already sensing where this was going. “Oh, I love when he gets like this.”

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie, who had been mid-bite into his pastry, nudged Chai Latte conspiratorially. “This is definitely payback.” You shot them both a glare before turning back to Shadow Milk Cookie, exasperated. “You can’t seriously still be upset.”

“I can and I am,” he replied smoothly, setting his cup down with a deliberate clink. He turned his gaze to Earl Grey Cookie who, for once, was watching carefully, as if weighing the gravity of what was about to be said. “I would prefer if what I saw between you and my stargazer never happened again.”

The air around the table grew still. Earl Grey Cookie, ever composed, met his gaze levelly. “Duly noted.”

Your jaw dropped. “Duly noted?!” you spluttered. “That’s it?”

Earl Grey simply picked up his tea again, utterly unshaken. “Would you rather I start a debate?” Chai Latte Cookie’s eyes widened slightly before she turned her entire attention onto you, a slow, devious grin spreading across her face. “Hold on. Hold on. What did he just call you?”

Your brain stalled. “What?” you blinked.

“What. Did. He. Just. Call. You?” Chai Latte Cookie repeated, leaning forward with the intensity of someone thriving off gossip. You turned to Shadow Milk Cookie, only now realizing what exactly had left his lips.

“My Stargazer.” He repeated relishing in your humiliation. Your stomach dropped.

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie whooped, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is fantastic.” Chai Latte Cookie smacked the table, eyes gleaming with glee. “This is the best thing to happen all week.” You, meanwhile, were reeling.

You held up a hand. “What does that even mean?” Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you with a look so smugly composed that it made you want to combust. “I assume you are capable of deciphering meaning from context, Stargazer.”

You gaped. “You’re doing this on purpose.” His lips twitched at the edges, and that was when you knew. Oh, he was enjoying this. He was deliberately making a show of this. And worse? Everyone else was enjoying it too.

“See, this is why he’s terrifying,” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie laughed. “One moment, you think you’ve got control, and the next? He’s got you spinning in his little mind games.”

Earl Grey Cookie, sipping his tea with the air of someone distantly entertained, merely hummed. “Impressive, really.”

You buried your face in your hands. “I hate it here.” Shadow Milk Cookie leaned just slightly toward you, voice low, calculated, teasing. “And yet,” he murmured, “you stay.” Your ears burned.

Chai Latte Cookie all but exploded into laughter, while Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie pounded the table in delight.Eventually, the laughter settled, the teasing ebbing into a comfortable hum of conversation. You exhaled, pressing your palms against your cheeks to dispel the lingering warmth of your embarrassment. Shadow Milk Cookie, still composed, still infuriatingly pleased with himself, had returned to sipping his tea as if nothing had happened at all. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “So,” you said, forcing your voice into something normal. “The Spire.”

Chai Latte Cookie hummed, stretching her arms behind her head. “Finally switching to a serious topic?” she teased.

You shot her a look before turning back to Shadow Milk Cookie. “What’s it going to be like? I mean, being the Fount of Knowledge.” His expression didn’t shift, but something flickered in his golden eyes, something thoughtful. He set his cup down, folding his hands neatly in front of him. “That remains to be seen.”

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie quirked a brow. “You don’t know?”

“There is no precedent,” Shadow Milk Cookie replied smoothly. “The Spire of Knowledge is newly established. It is an extension of the Academy, but unlike the traditional institutions, it will serve as a hub of research and discourse that reaches beyond these halls across lands, scholars, disciplines.” His fingers traced the rim of his cup absentmindedly. “A place where knowledge is meant to be ever-expanding. And with that, comes the responsibility of guiding it forward.”

Earl Grey Cookie studied him carefully. “That’s… a lot,” he said plainly. Shadow Milk Cookie nodded. “It is.” You leaned forward, resting your chin against your palm. “And the title? Fount of Knowledge…that’s permanent?”

“Presumably.”

You frowned. “That’s kind of a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Chai Latte Cookie chimed in. “Your name is going to be tied to an entire institution forever. No pressure.” Shadow Milk Cookie remained unbothered, but his pause was just long enough for you to notice.

“…Do you want that?” you asked softly. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. “It is an honor,” he said after a moment.

“That’s not an answer.”

His gaze met yours, steady, unwavering. “Would you rather I embellish the truth?” You opened your mouth, then closed it. Fair point.

Earl Grey Cookie took a measured sip of his tea before speaking. “Regardless of how you feel about it, you’re still becoming it. That means something.”

Shadow Milk Cookie let out a quiet breath. “It does.” For a moment, the weight of it settled over the table. The reality of what was coming not just for him, but for all of you. The Spire was new, unknown, a place of possibility and uncertainty. You were entering it as students.

He was stepping into it as something more. You tapped your fingers against the wood. “…Well,” you said, “at least you’ll have us there to pester you.”

Chai Latte Cookie grinned. “And that’s a promise.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie nudged you. “We’ll make sure you don’t get too pretentious with your big fancy title.”

Shadow Milk Cookie arched a brow. “You assume I am not already pretentious.”

Earl Grey Cookie smirked faintly. “A fair assumption.” Laughter bubbled at the table again, and for a moment, the weight of everything felt lighter. The future was uncertain, the Spire was uncharted, but at least, in this moment, you were all still together. The conversation ebbed and flowed around the table, shifting between teasing and genuine curiosity, but beneath it all, there was something unspoken.

Shadow Milk Cookie was here. He was sitting here, in a space that was so effortlessly filled with warmth and chaos, with inside jokes and knowing glances, with hands brushing over the last piece of bread as if it were a sacred prize.

He was here and though he was composed, though he was himself, there was still a subtle distance in the way he carried his presence. Not an unwillingness to be here. No, he had chosen to be here. But a quiet awareness that he was not entirely part of it.

And your friends knew that. They had always known that. And yet, they tried. Not because he was the Sage of Truth. Not because he held a title that would soon be carved into the foundation of the Spire itself. Not because he was important in the way scholars wrote about in books. But because he was important to you.

It was subtle, the way they met him halfway. Earl Grey Cookie addressed him with the same sharp wit he used on the rest of you, never deferential, never intimidated, just equal, as if daring him to rise to the occasion. Though with some hesitation.

Chai Latte Cookie, who had no fear of the grand or the dramatic, leaned into their teasing, calling him things like our resident philosopher with an easy kind of humor, even when she watched him with an assessing gaze, as if still deciding how to place him within your orbit.

And Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie? He was the most obvious nudging your arm, casting you knowing grins, making bold declarations about keeping Shadow Milk humble despite his grand title, never quite treating him as some untouchable figure.

If anything, he was the most comfortable in pulling him into the ridiculous mess that was your world. And for all that Shadow Milk Cookie carried; the weight of his wisdom. For all that he was; a being of patience and intellect and elegance he was unprepared for this.

For them.

For you.

You could see it in the way he listened, his fingers curled lightly around the edge of his cup, his posture perfectly composed but his eyes thoughtful. He did not interrupt. He did not reject their attempts.

But you could tell he was not used to this. To the way friendship could be as simple as being handed the last piece of bread without asking. To the way people could tease you because they liked you, not because they sought to challenge you.

To the way belonging was sometimes built not on shared knowledge, but on effort on the way your friends tried to include him, on the way they adjusted the shape of your group, not to fit him in, but to make room for him. For you, this had always been normal. For him this was new.

You studied him for a moment, watching the way he processed it all the small gestures, the familiar touches, the way Chai Latte bumped your shoulder as she spoke, the way Hazelnut Biscotti stole a sip from your cup like it was second nature. And then, without thinking, you reached for Shadow Milk’s hand beneath the table.

It was a simple thing.

A touch. A reassurance.

But it was also a bridge.

His fingers curled around yours after only a moment’s hesitation, as if testing the weight of fit then settling, anchoring. He did not look at you, but he did not need to. The conversation continued. Your friends laughed. The table felt full. And Shadow Milk Cookie, for all his distance, for all his unreadable nature stayed.

A/N as you all can see even when I was studying I was working on this diligently, this really was one of the few things keeping me sane this exam season...I was going to do a summer semester but I'm good without it...

Anyways...

Remember to follow and reblog for more bangers 😎😎😎🔥🔥🔥

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papayacinnabun · 6 months ago

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classmate!oscar x collegestudent!reader au 18+ mdni

classmate!oscar who watches you type your notes during lecture, wishing those hands were somewhere else. he tries but he can barely pay attention to what the professor is saying, he's just so mesmerized by how your tits fill out your shirt and strain against the fabric. he felt himself grow hard just looking at you as you bit down on your lip in frustration, trying to understand the material.

classmate!oscar who approaches you after class, wondering if you need a study buddy for the next exam. you won’t admit it, but you had been sneaking glances at the handsome boy occasionally, conflicted on whether to talk to him or not. he seemed sweet enough, as well as wickedly smart. you agreed to his proposal, suggesting to meet in the library later that day.

classmate!oscar who pushes you up against a bookshelf deep in the library, lips feverishly assaulting your neck. his hands roaming all over your body, pawing at your waist and grasping at your tits, trying to feel you in any way he could. he couldn’t take it anymore, you with your cute glasses and low cut top, practically teasing him as you recited physics theorems. you constantly did that thing with your lip again, drawing it between your teeth seductively whenever you got stuck on a particular problem. it drove him crazy, he wanted to taste you so badly he was no longer able to keep his hands to himself.

classmate!oscar who only let you cum when you recited all your flashcards correctly, his tongue working over your clit in mind-numbing ways. naturally you couldn’t think straight, so whenever you got a question wrong he stopped sucking on your bud to send a harsh spank to your ass. you cry out, over-frustrated and begging him to let you cum. he resumes lapping at your wetness, a slick grin spread over his face at your begging. you finally get a few correct in a row and he picks up his pace, finally letting your orgasm take over. it’s not his fault he wants you to do well, is it?

classmate!oscar who had you laid out on the table of the private study room, thrusting into you at a speed that had you seeing stars, whispering in your ear what a good girl you were for taking his cock like this. you whine out, your sensitive pussy clenching around him as he urges you to be quiet, stuffing his fingers in your mouth. you clenched around his dick, holding onto the table tighter as he fucked you so deep his tip grazed your cervix at every stroke. your textbooks sat on the floor, long abandoned as you both eagerly chased your releases.

classmate!oscar who grins knowingly at you when you get an A on your exam. seems like those study sessions are working...

a/n - still on break but this is the type of motivation i need this semester...

have au ideas? send them in!

masterlist here

#f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri #cinnabun writes #mclaren #f1 x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri au #op81 #papaya boys #f1 smut #oscar piastri smut

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honestcompassion · 5 months ago

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𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. state of being overly involved in a relationship

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 yandere pure vanilla cookie headcanons

warnings: obsessive and possessive behavior, moral ambiguity, inferiority complex, guilt complex, emotional dependence, guilt tripping, stalking, potentially ooc

A/N: The ribbon has been cut, the store is now open, and here comes our very first customer! I lost the request for this one but they asked for one order of yandere pure vanilla cookie headcanons. I apologize for the mistake this early on, I hope you enjoy this sweet treat!

Pure Vanilla Cookie as a yandere would be as sweet as a soft, fluffy cloud of whipped cream atop a slice of warm pie, light and tender, yet undeniably indulgent. His sweetness is the kind that brings a sense of peace, like the first sip of a perfectly brewed cup of tea on a quiet morning. He'd be so endearing and affectionate that you'll fail to notice just how much he's slowly changing as his love for you grows more and more.

He would dedicate himself entirely to your happiness, attending to every need and want with almost unnatural precision. He notices the tiniest details—your favorite treats, the way you prefer your tea, and even your smallest habits—and adjusts his behavior to cater to them perfectly. However, this attentiveness comes at a price: he begins to believe that no one else could possibly care for you as deeply as he does.

Pure Vanilla Cookie’s adoration for you is boundless, but beneath his gentle exterior lies a storm of conflicting emotions. To him, you are the epitome of perfection—kind, radiant, and far beyond anything he could ever hope to be. The way you carry yourself, the light in your eyes, even the simplest of your actions—they all leave him in awe. He holds you on a pedestal so high that he feels utterly insignificant in comparison.

He tells himself that his feelings are wrong, that someone like him—flawed and unworthy—has no right to desire someone as extraordinary as you. The guilt eats away at him, a gnawing ache in his chest every time he catches himself lingering too long on the thought of you. "How selfish of me," he thinks, "to want someone so pure, so beautiful, for myself."

Yet no matter how hard he tries, he cannot let go. You are his light, his guiding star, the only thing that makes the world seem bearable. He convinces himself that his love is selfless, that all he wants is your happiness. But even that reasoning begins to crumble when he realizes just how dependent he has become on you.

Every time you speak, every time you smile, he feels a pang of inadequacy. He wonders how someone like you could even spare him a glance. He berates himself for his shortcomings, for the things he cannot do, and he becomes obsessed with trying to be better for you. Yet, no matter how much he does, it never feels like enough. "You deserve so much more than I can give," he whispers to himself in the quiet of the night. But even as he thinks this, he cannot bring himself to let you go.

His love for you blurs the lines between right and wrong. He knows it’s wrong to follow you when you don’t know he’s there. He knows it’s wrong to memorize every detail of your life, from the places you visit to the people you speak to. But the thought of not knowing where you are, of not being able to protect you, fills him with such dread that he convinces himself it’s for your own good. The guilt of his actions warring with his desperate need to keep you safe.

Your happiness becomes his only source of joy. If you’re upset, he feels as though the world has lost its color. He tries to fix everything, bending over backward to ensure you’re content, even at the cost of his own well-being. If you’re happy, he feels like he can breathe again. But this dependence is suffocating—not for you, but for him. He begins to tie his entire sense of self-worth to your approval. If you were to reject him, he feels he would shatter completely.

While he is too kind to voice his jealousy, it festers beneath the surface. When others take up your time or attention, he feels a pang of envy so sharp it makes him sick. He tries to rationalize it, telling himself that he has no right to feel this way. But the more it happens, the harder it becomes for him to suppress. He starts to find small ways to keep you close—insisting on helping you with tasks, offering to walk you home, always being there when you need him.

His love drives him to extremes he never thought himself capable of. He follows you from a distance, his heart pounding as he watches over you. He tells himself it’s only to make sure you’re safe, but deep down, he knows it’s more than that. He needs to be near you, to feel connected to you in some way, even if you don’t know he’s there. The guilt eats at him, but he can’t stop. You are his everything, and he’ll do anything to ensure you’re protected.

In the end, Pure Vanilla Cookie’s love is as sweet as it is tragic. His selfless devotion becomes tangled with his selfish need to keep you by his side. He struggles to reconcile his guilt with his desires, walking a thin line between love and obsession. All he knows is that you are his one constant, his one truth, and no matter how much he doubts himself, he will always choose you.

The night was still, the castle shrouded in silence save for the occasional whisper of the wind against the stained-glass windows. You stirred in your bed, the faint feeling of being watched prickling at the edges of your awareness. Slowly, you opened your eyes to find a familiar figure standing at the foot of your bed, bathed in the faint glow of his staff.

"Pure Vanilla?" you murmured, your voice heavy with sleep. "What are you doing here?"

He stepped closer, his beautiful eyes shining with an intensity that made your heart race. His usual gentle smile was there, but something about it seemed… strained, as if it masked something deeper.

"I’m sorry if I startled you, my love," he said softly, his voice carrying the same warmth you knew so well. Yet, the way he said my love felt heavier tonight, almost possessive. "I couldn’t sleep knowing you were here all alone. What if something happened while I wasn’t here to protect you?"

Your brows furrowed. "Pure Vanilla, it’s the middle of the night. I’m safe here, aren’t I?"

He hesitated, his grip tightening slightly around his staff. "Yes, but… I can’t help worrying. The world is unpredictable, and I’ve seen too much to take your safety for granted. You mean everything to me."

The intensity in his words made you sit up, the sleepiness fading from your mind. "You don’t need to worry so much," you reassured him. "I’m fine, really."

But he shook his head, his expression almost pained. "You don’t understand," he murmured, stepping even closer until he was at your bedside. "I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Every moment you’re out of my sight, I feel this… emptiness. This fear that I’m not doing enough."

You felt a chill creep over you. "Pure Vanilla, I appreciate your care, but… you’re scaring me a little."

At your words, his eyes widened, and he dropped to his knees beside your bed, reaching out to take your hands in his. His touch was trembling, desperate. "I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I don’t mean to frighten you. I just… I love you so much, more than words can say. You’re the only light in my life, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. Please, forgive me if I seem overbearing. It’s only because I want to keep you safe."

You hesitated, the raw emotion in his voice tugging at your heart despite the unease creeping up your spine. "I forgive you," you said quietly, trying to steady your voice. "But you have to trust me too. I can take care of myself."

He nodded slowly, though the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. As he rose to his feet, he lingered for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Rest well, my love," he said finally, his voice tender. "I’ll be just outside if you need me."

Something is wrong.

#crk #yandere cookie run #yandere crk #yandere cookie run kingdom #yandere #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #yandere cookie run kingdom x reader #yandere crk x reader #yandere cookie run x reader #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla cookie x reader #yandere pure vanilla cookie x reader

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amphitriteswife · 6 months ago

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Stay the night

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife reader

Warning: mild nudity, shits ass

Summary: Geta finds himself seeking your comfort once again after finding out about general Acacius’ betrayal.

Note: I love crying pathetic hurt Geta also its implied sex not the real thing yk

Geta feels conflicted. His hands pulling on his ginger colored hair. He was pacing back and forth between his bed and the door. His robe feels sticky because of the earlier sweat that had now turned cool. What should he do? What can he do? He feels nervous. No not even. He feels afraid. Where are you? He just put Caracalla to bed after his crash out against general Acacius and he felt suspicious of the Macrinus. He doesn’t know who to trust. Who speaks the truth? Who is genuinely on his side? Who is loyal? Who is actually helping him and not planning to overthrow him? He knows his position is weak. But he’s trying! He wants to rule along side his brother, but his disease makes it very hard to. His breath took up a pace and so did his steps. He got even more impatient with every second. He can hear his heart thumping in his ears. Were you asleep? Did you talk to the Macrinus? Did you also plan to overthrow him? To betray him? To take the throne he knows he isn’t fit for? No. He can’t think of you like that. You’re loyal to him. He knows it. He’s just being hysterical. You’ve always been there by his side. You were the bridge between him and the Roman citizens, you gave him advice to keep the people happy, to make sure they’re fed and safe even if it meant that the elites sometimes disagreed. Please come soon, his head felt as if it might explode from all the thoughts.

Luckily for him he finally heard the faint sounds of rinkels. His eyes immediately reacted to the sound. They were bells. Tiny bells. He recognized them instantly. Only you wore ankle bracelets with bells, a gift you had received from him on your wedding night. You wore it quite a lot and only took it off when you went to the bed house. His eyes caught the sight of your feet. Then your ankle bracelet and then finally to your face. You didn’t wear any make up and your hair was slightly disheveled. He woke you up with his summoning. He felt guilty…he feels selfish for calling you while you needed your own sleep too.

‘I’m sorry for waking you up empress.’

‘It’s fine…did you need something from me at this hour? emperor Geta?’

Your voice was groggy. It made him feel even more guilty. He took a few breaths before he sat down on the bed. A rather vulnerable silence followed before he started to speak in a soft voice. His eyes didn’t meet yours anymore and his head was slightly turned away as if he felt ashamed of what he was about to say. The hand that was gripping his robe seemed to tremble slightly. It was pitch black and the middle of the night. He shouldn’t be having a conversation with you. The both of you should’ve been asleep. Nothing about the betrayal should’ve even existed. He wishes it was all just a cruel prank. There must be a reason. Would he rather not have known? Or is it for the better? Why is it like this? What did he do wrong? What should he tell you? The truth? But it’ll only prove that he makes poor choices as an emperor.

‘Stay…just for tonight please?’

He sounds pathetic. He didn’t mean for his voice to break mid sentence. He didn’t mean to tear up. He wanted to keep it hidden. He didn’t want to tell you what wrong. He didn’t want to feel this way. He kept his head low. The crown was missing, it was just his wavy orange hair. The robe was slightly exposing part of his chest and body. The request sounded simple. In any other moment he would’ve demanded it from you. Ordered you to obey him. But now he hadn’t. Now it sounded small as if it could break. Even after you two were wed, you stayed in different rooms. Geta never minded it as he usually found his own company with others wherever he liked. He never asked you to be in his other than having intercourse what you usually declined.

‘Did something happen my Emperor?’

The question made him sniffle a bit and wipe his face. He really doesn’t want to tell you. He doesn’t want to be weak in front of you. Both of his hands grabbed your robe. His own falling open in the middle of it. He looked at you with a rather pleading gaze. His eyes blood shot red and a his cheeks were a little glistening because of his tears. His hands were trembling slightly yet he hadn’t said a single word. You didn’t really know what is was, shame to ask for help? Embarrassment? Well, it didn’t really matter which one. As long as he didn’t cry anymore.

‘I…don’t wish to think about such matters more than I already do empress, as long as you’re here…it’s more than enough for me.’

Those words made you raise an eyebrow. So there is something wrong but he just isn’t ready to tell you now. Got it. He’s also tugging on your hand like soke kid. How cute. Despite the pathetic and disheveled state he is in, he’s rather cute. Like a puppy. You wouldn’t tell him that ofcourse. It’s not like you’re sadistic. Your hands reached out for his, letting your fingertips glide across his knuckled which made him loosen his grip. He took a few breaths before he finally let go of your robe and sat back on the bed. He guided you to also join him in his bed which was bug enough for the both if you. He laid back on the bed, his eyes looking at the ceiling and his robe still open.

‘Please make me forget about it all, my empress.’

#gladiator #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #geta #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 29 days ago

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🕳️ What to Write When You Have No Idea What Happens Next

aka: you’re staring into the creative abyss and the abyss is not only staring back, it’s asking for a rough draft

hi writer. welcome to that fun little liminal space in your project where ✨absolutely nothing✨ makes sense. you wrote the last scene. you know you’re not at the end. but suddenly your characters are just standing there like NPCs waiting for a quest marker and your brain is doing the spinning beachball of death.

so. what now?

let’s break down some actually useful strategies for when you hit That Point™️. not vibes. not ✨manifest your way out✨ energy. not the “just keep writing” slog. here’s what to do when your story is refusing to tell you what happens next:

———————————————

zoom out: do a “scene audit” ———————————————

you don’t need a full outline to do this. take five minutes and sketch a bullet list of every scene that’s happened so far. not just what happened, but why it mattered.

like this:

MC lied to their boss (sets up stakes re: trust/power)

antagonist shows up at cafe (establishes tension + location crossover)

best friend gets suspicious (emotional complication, adds pressure)

this gives you a birds-eye view of what you’ve set in motion. often you’re stuck because you’ve lost sight of the threads you were pulling, your own story has momentum, you just need to feel it again.

—————————————————————

try “ghost drafting” (aka fake writing) —————————————————————

open a doc. start typing what would happen, if you were writing. super casual. something like:

“okay i think the next scene is maybe them at the train station?? or wait--maybe we need to see the fallout of the argument. i don’t really know what x character wants rn but i think y might be planning something…”

this trick works bc it removes pressure. no fancy prose, no perfect structure. it’s literally you telling yourself what might happen. and weirdly? your brain will often finish the scene for you without asking. (the number of times I’ve ghost drafted myself into 800 usable words… witchcraft.)

——————————————————————————

pin your characters to a corkboard and interrogate them ——————————————————————————

not literally. (unless you're into that. i don’t judge.)

but seriously: when you’re stuck, it’s often because your character has no immediate goal or emotion. pause and ask:

what does this character want right now? like, in this moment?

what are they trying to avoid?

what’s keeping them from getting either?

character-driven scenes are rarely static. even if it’s just an awkward dinner or walking to the store, someone’s always trying to do or hide something. if everyone in the scene is just reacting or waiting, you’ve got fog. bring in the fire.

—————————————————

don’t skip the “boring” stuff--weaponize it —————————————————

sometimes we’re stuck because we think the next scene is dull. like “ugh i guess they just… travel to the manor” or “they regroup at the safe house.” but these slow beats are GOLD if you embed purpose.

try giving the “boring” scene:

a time limit or interruption (they’re hiding but someone knocks)

a secret (someone is lying about something small but important)

a reversal (what they expected is the opposite of what happens)

even if it’s a quiet scene, layer it. conflict isn’t just yelling or action. it’s discomfort. it’s misalignment. tension between what’s said and unsaid.

—————————————————————

when all else fails: write the next emotional beat —————————————————————

strip it back. forget plot. forget pacing. ask yourself:

then write that. a monologue. a journal entry. an outburst. a line of whispered dialogue.

sometimes it’s not that you don’t know what happens next. it’s that your character hasn’t processed what just happened, and until they do, the story can’t move forward.

✨✨✨

the void is normal. getting stuck doesn’t mean you failed or picked the wrong idea or that the muse packed up and left for a better writer’s house. it just means your brain needs space to regroup.

writing isn’t linear. stories aren’t built in perfect lines. they loop. they stall. they circle back. and that’s okay.

if you’re in the middle of nowhere, here’s your sign to sit on the side of the metaphorical road, open your weird little notebook, and write anyway. write wrong. write messy. write ghost drafts. the path shows up when you start walking.

🕳️ you got this, writer.

tag me if you end up crawling out of your stuck scene with a little victory paragraph. i’ll bring snacks for the next one 🧃✨

P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:

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westside-rot · 6 months ago

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Talk To Me Nice

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black reader

No warnings for this one. Hopefully there aren't too many errors cuz it's only lightly edited. I'm trying to squeeze in my last post of the year lol

This little idea is the result of a writing prompt and @megamindsecretlair keeping me honest about writing something every day. Figured I'd share the results with whoever else wants to check it out.

“That’s a bit harsh my love…”

After spending the last 20 minutes filling your home with negative energy you expected reciprocation. Instead you were being derailed with a new form of gaslighting, the kind reserved for evolved men who appeared harmless on the surface but harbored a petty side few got to see. Though impressive, you knew Terry was only using kind words to paint himself the victim. It didn’t matter how many steps ahead you thought you were. The guilt still hit with the same bruising force.

Six months of newlywed bliss cruelly interrupted by disappointment you never wanted to feel so early into your marriage. Perhaps there was a better way to convey that hurt to your husband. Maybe sitting him down for a mature conversation would’ve spared you from the growing pressure around your temples and the rawness in your throat from all the yelling you’d been doing. You were convinced the window for apologies and grand romantic gestures had closed. He'd started it. You were damn sure going to finish it.

You pushed through your doubts and committed to your frustrations with arms folded tightly across your chest, the initial urge to roll your eyes shifting to a hard, resolute stare. “Well Terrence sometimes harsh is necessary.”

He scratched his beard and nodded as though you’d just agreed on what to have for dinner. Silence took over the room once again, intensifying the conflict between you. His eyes never broke contact.

“Are you done?” From anyone else the question would’ve triggered your inner toxic and possibly resulted in the police being called. But there was note of calmness in your husband’s voice that exonerated him from the accusation before it became your new truth. Terry wasn’t being dismissive. He was simply better at regulating his emotions. His inability to stop wringing his hands together revealed the stress hidden within. For a second time you were forced to ignore your guilt for the sake of winning. Mirroring his casual demeanor, you continued to stand firm and prepared for whatever he intended to say next.

“I must’ve imagined sitting in premarital counseling for all those weeks. Or maybe I was the only one taking it seriously. That must be it 'cause at the first sign of a problem you’ve broken every promise we made to each other.” His words landed direct hits on your conscience. Everything holding you together began to cave under the weight of his response. Terry wasn’t wrong. Instinctively, you went into defense mode anyway.

“That’s not fai—”

“Nah, you’re not about to interrupt me. I let you speak. You’ll show me the same respect. Understand?” The natural base in his voice instantly got your attention. Yes sir rang so clearly in your mind you weren’t entirely convinced you hadn’t said it out loud. You prayed Terry couldn’t somehow feel the lust pulsing alongside everything else flooding your system. One day soon under normal circumstances you were going to explore his newfound aggressive side. How, you weren’t entirely sure. With a new goal seared into your brain and soaked through panties clinging to your ass you managed to retain a sense of dignity as you obeyed your husband’s command.

“You’re my wife. One day you’ll be the mother of our children. I refuse to let them hear us talking crazy to each other, so I’m gonna need you to find a better way to communicate your feelings. If I need to sign us back up for therapy I will but this shit ends tonight.”

All the fight drained from your body. Shame took its place. In its presence you were finally able to recall those important conversations leading up to your wedding, the dreams you shared, the legacy you wanted to create. If not for your anger you could have revisited them sooner and found a better use for them. Now you were facing an evening apart, perhaps more depending on how long Terry held on to a grudge.

All you could do was stare at the ground and wait for it to be over with. Hopefully you’d find a way to sleep knowing you had failed your first test as a wife. When your lip started to quiver you promptly bit down on it to keep your hurt feelings in check. You hadn’t behaved in a way deserving of care but when Terry's long fingers reached out to palm the side of your face you sought out his warmth like a needy kitten.

“Now you’re breaking my heart.”

“I can’t help it. Did you have to be so mean?” Though you found your ability to speak you burrowed your pout lips further into his hand. The loudest person in the room didn’t deserve to cry. If you were lucky you'd disappear and rematerialize tomorrow with more sense.

“It got your attention. Besides, I thought harsh was necessary. Or does that only apply when you’re cursing me out?” He chuckled. You weren’t persuaded by the playfulness in his voice to look up. Terry initiated the gesture with fingers affectionately placed beneath your chin. It wasn’t lost on you that he'd repositioned your face at the same proud angle you held while lecturing him as if two nights apart somehow equated to years of neglect. You wanted to look away but soon discovered his eyes remained steadfast and beautiful in the aftermath of the storm you’d caused. They connected with your soul in an instant providing a gentle assurance that you were safe with him.

The words flowed through your upturned lips effortlessly. “I’m sorry baby. You didn’t deserve all those ugly things I said to you.” Before you could say more he captured your face in both hands, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re already forgiven my love.” Terry’s lips grazed yours as he spoke. The distance was torture. Finally, after what felt like an unbearably long time, he covered your mouth with his, reestablishing his dominance with a tenderness that sets your heart and mind at ease. It was a proper reconciliation, but it also wasn’t enough. Not after the way you behaved tonight.

You treated the sincerity on his lips as your own personal buffet. When it became difficult to breathe you pulled away to regain control over the situation. “I still have a lot to make up for.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he pushed the curls back from your face. “We both do. Your approach needs some work, but you had a right to be upset with me.” You nodded and yet nothing in you wanted to celebrate the vindication. You were simply relieved to know you hadn’t caused any irrevocable damage by overreacting. Even more relieved to see him smiling again. "I think my beautiful and extremely childish wife should get the honor of going first.”

The frown you attempted to hold cracked under the pressure of his wide grin. You hate being teased. You were also guilty on all counts and willing to take your punishment. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“It’s very fair.” He mumbled between prolonged kisses down your neck.

You exhaled and curved your fingers over his broad shoulders. It was becoming harder to think or even breathe with him sucking everywhere his lips could reach. “Can we talk it out like grown-ups tomorrow?”

“Of course, baby. It's mandatory from now on.” When he spoke the guttural quality possessing his voice registered deep in the places he’s yet to touch. You felt painfully empty but knew you wouldn’t stay that way for long. At the rate his lips were moving you weren’t convinced you'd make it past the couch. You preferred the comfort of your king-sized bed the scene of your crime was a fitting place for getting down on your knees to make proper use of your mouth.

Terry surprised you when he broke the suction on your collarbone to reunite at eye level. There was a noticeable glint of mischief in his eyes before he bent down to throw you over his shoulder. You squealed and braced a hand at the center of his back for support you really didn't need.

"You better not drop me trying to be cute!"

"I was planning on letting you off easy tonight. Now I'm thinking your apology needs to be as loud as all that shit you've been talking."

"Yes daddy. Remind me what all these big strong muscles are really for. Also, please send help!"

With a single act you reclaim the home you’ve built, your gasps and combined laughter echoing along the walls as he carried you upstairs.

#terry richmond fic #rebel ridge fanfiction #x black reader

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spiicii · 5 months ago

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the og bloodline / bloodline property (snapshots)

jey uso / jimmy uso / roman reigns / solo sikoa / sami zayn x fem!reader word count → 7.0k summary → you belong to the bloodline, but life with the family isn’t without its shenanigans. between prank wars and arguments over movie night, the boys certainly know how to keep you on your toes. notes → this fic is meant to be a fun look at the character dynamics! i get a lot of questions about how the reader interacts with the family outside of the steamy scenes and i thought this would be a fun way to explore it. that being said, there’s still plenty of smut at the end where jimmy finally gets the reader all to himself ;) links → masterlist / taglist tags → daddy kink, dom/sub lifestyle, unprotected piv sex, degradation, dirty talk, begging, spanking, hair pulling, crying, possessive behavior, jealousy, cuddling, and fluff, jimmy likes to be called sir (change my mind)

Movie Night

The living room was in an uproar. The three brothers were arguing, all of them standing off in front of the TV as they continued to talk over each other. It didn’t help that they all spoke with their hands, gesticulating wildly as they continued to bicker. You could hardly make out the words amidst the chatter, each sentence louder than the last.

“I done told you we ain’t watchin’ that shit, uce! I hate that fucking series.”

“What’s wrong with Halloween, man? You nothin’ but a hater!”

“You picked last time anyway! Why don’t you sit yo’ ass down and shut the fuck up for once!”

“At least I got some taste! What ‘bout you? Always pickin’ the longest fucking movie ever and then complainin’ when everyone falls asleep. I should snatch that damn remote out yo’ hand!”

You rolled your eyes, moving back to the microwave to check on the popcorn. You were the only one in the house who wouldn’t burn it. You watched with an amused expression as Sami moved to your side, his eyes still glued to the conflict in the living room.

“Are they always like this?”

You chuckled. “Just for movie night. They take it very seriously.”

Sami made a sound of agreement, watching as Jey grabbed a blanket from one of the couches and hurled it at his twin’s head, who dodged it with ease.

“Ha! I see yo’ aim ain’t improved since college!”

“Aye, you better watch yo’ mouth!”

Sami’s eyes moved to where Roman sat near the balcony door, his hand covering his face in annoyance as the boys continued to yell.

“And Roman just…let’s it happen?”

You shrugged. “If he gets involved they just yell louder. But don’t worry, they just need to get it out of their system. Once the popcorn is done they’ll calm down.”

Sami didn’t seem convinced, frowning as Solo snatched the remote from Jimmy’s unsuspecting hand.

“Hey! You ain’t slick - give that back!”

“Don’t nobody wanna watch that shit, uce. Your picks always suck!”

“Oh you one to talk! Whatchu wanna watch tonight? The Notebook?”

The bickering continued, Roman leaning his head back against the chair to stare at the ceiling in exasperation. You couldn’t hide a smile as you pulled the popcorn from the microwave, motioning for Sami to hand you a bowl.

“How on earth do they ever decide on a movie?” Sami asked, his eyes flickering back to the living room in concern as Jimmy tackled Solo to the couch, both of them fighting for control of the remote.

“They don’t.” You replied.

Sami still seemed confused. “Then how-?”

“Just watch.”

You turned off the kitchen lights, handing the bowl of popcorn to Sami, before moving into the living room.

The boys were still wrestling on the couch, Jey now getting involved as he placed his younger brother in a headlock. The yelling was so loud you knew you’d get a noise complaint from the neighbors. Again.

With a practiced ease, you approached the couch, avoiding the flurry of limbs, and deftly plucked the TV remote from Solo’s hands. They didn’t even notice, Solo now using his feet to fend off Jimmy. Now irritated at his younger twin’s intrusion, Jimmy decided to lunge for Jey who let out a creative string of expletives as his brother tackled him off the back of the couch and onto the floor.

Roman let out a long-suffering sigh, watching with a growing irritation as the twins knocked over a lamp in their tussle.

You threw a cheeky wink to Sami who was watching the scene unfold with horror. “Watch this.” You cleared your throat, speaking loudly over the yelling. “Oh no! Who am I going to sit with for the movie?”

You watched with amusement as the yelling instantly stopped, the three brothers scrambling to return back to their seats. You raised an eyebrow as Jimmy kicked his younger twin to the side in an effort to make it to his seat first, his eyes innocent as he looked back at you.

“You can sit here, baby.” Jimmy cooed, patting his lap. “It’s right here waitin’ for you.”

“Man, shut up!” Jey snapped, taking his seat beside his twin. You were impressed at how quickly he switched from irritated to begging as he gave you his best puppy-dog eyes. “You can sit wit’ me, sweetheart. Come on, you know you want to.”

You glanced over at Solo who had taken a chair of his own, now glowering at his older brothers with his arms across his chest.

You turned back to Sami who was staring at you. “See?"

You took the popcorn bowl from a still surprised looking Sami, popping a few pieces in your mouth as you turned back to the brothers. “I don’t even know why you’re arguing. You know we’re still watching the Scream movies in order, right? Aren’t we on the third one now?”

The brothers frowned, looking at each other. Clearly they’d forgotten.

You sighed. “Well, you’d better get comfortable. I’m about to start it.”

Jimmy and Jey scrambled to pick up the blankets and pillows from the floor, still looking at you expectantly in the hopes that you would choose them as your designated seat for the night. Solo, ever the wise one, didn’t even try, knowing full well what your intentions were as he settled into his chair.

You couldn’t help but press a kiss to Solo’s forehead, watching as the irritation melted from his face, his eyes now sparkling with fondness as he looked up at you.

You turned to Sami. “Sit wherever you want, hon. But don’t engage in the arguments about horror movie tropes. It only encourages them.”

“Horror movie tropes…” Sami seemed bewildered.

You waved a finger at the twins. “You got a lot of nerve. Making a mess of this house and expecting me to sit with you. And in front of Sami too? He’s gonna think we’re animals or something.”

The twins at least had the decency to look embarrassed, both of them fidgeting under the mountain of blankets they’d accumulated. You made a pointed look to the lamp they’d knocked on the floor and Jey quickly returned it to the table, offering you a sheepish grin.

You rolled your eyes, making your way over to Roman’s chair who had been watching you with unconcealed pride. You were the only ones who could wrangle the brothers without making a scene and he made a pleased sound as you climbed into his lap, offering him some popcorn as you curled up against him.

The twins began to protest, still staring at you with pleading puppy eyes, but a sharp glance from the Tribal Chief quickly silenced them. You chuckled, pressing a kiss against Roman’s neck just to watch the twins stare in jealousy.

You held out the bowl to them. “Popcorn?”

Prank Wars

Monday

It started with Jimmy. Of course, it started with Jimmy. He’d decided to hide behind the shower curtain to scare Jey one afternoon after a workout.

You hadn’t known about it in advance, but you were sure that was calculated. Jimmy knew you would have stopped him.

It wasn’t because you hated fun (although you knew Jimmy would disagree). You loved a good prank as much as the next person. The problem was that pranks were never just pranks with the Samoans. They always escalated and once it started it was difficult to stop. The last time the brothers got into a prank war it had taken months to finally come to a truce.

You’d been in the living room with Solo, curled up in his lap as you both read the newest Stephen King book.

“Are you ready to turn the page?” You asked, already reaching up to do so before he snatched the book away.

“No, I’m not ready to turn the page!” Solo grumbled with a frown. “You read too damn fast.”

You chuckled, a clever retort already on your tongue before you heard Jey’s bellow of alarm, followed by Jimmy’s maniacal laughter.

You and Solo were quick to abandon the book, making haste to the twins’ shared bathroom to see what all the commotion was about.

“What the actual fuck, man?!” Jey’s tone was indignant, completely naked as he fumbled with the towel he’d dropped in surprise.

Jimmy was too busy cackling, pointing childishly to his brother’s naked form.

“You should have seen your face!” He crowed, doubling over with laughter.

Jey already looked pissed, but once he saw you and Solo in the doorway his face went crimson. You let out a sigh, Jimmy’s loud laughter still echoing against the tile of the bathroom. There was a glint in Jey’s eye and you knew that this was just the beginning.

He was already plotting his revenge.

Tuesday

You didn’t think Jey would retaliate so quickly, but you couldn’t say you were surprised. Once the prank war started, things always got out of hand.

Roman and Paul were out, but the rest of you were in the living room eating dinner. Sami was sitting next to you on the couch, his leg pressed against yours as he showed you a video on his phone while Solo and Jimmy were talking. Meanwhile, Jey was leaning back in his chair, apparently scrolling on his phone.

Things seemed normal. Calm.

Jey eventually put his phone down and returned to his salad, easily joining the conversation with his brothers.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Eventually Jimmy’s phone started to ding. You didn’t think anything about it at first, but the notifications kept coming, his phone continuing to light up and vibrate as more and more messages came in.

Jimmy noticed, setting down his bowl to pull his phone from his pocket. “The fuck?” He muttered, his fingers tapping on the screen to see what all the commotion was about.

“What is it, uce?” Jey’s voice held a teasing note and you were immediately suspicious.

Sami’s phone started to vibrate as well and you saw a few notifications pop up at the top of his screen, all of them from Twitter.

@CodyRhodes Looks like someone played too hard last night!

@AustinCreedWins Posting this online is diabolical

You watched as Sami clicked on them, pulling up a photo of Jimmy in bed asleep, a spoon hanging from his mouth and a cup of chocolate pudding in his hand. The caption read ‘Big bro caught lacking again’ and already had 800 likes, despite only being posted 3 minutes ago.

“Are you fucking serious?” Jimmy’s voice was scathing, his eyes narrowed as he looked up at his brother.

Jey’s smile was smug. “Hope it was worth it, uce.”

It was taking all of your willpower to avoid laughing, but Sami wasn’t helping, already covering his mouth to hide his giggles.

Jimmy sucked his teeth. “That’s cute.” He said, his eyes fiery. “But weak. You can’t do better than that?”

Jey shrugged, taking an innocent bite of his salad while you and Sami watched more notifications come in.

@RandyOrton 😴🍫

@FightOwensFight So this is why he’s slow as hell in the ring

Jimmy was typing furiously on his phone, still scowling. You saw Sami’s finger hover temptingly over the retweet button, casting you a conspiratorial glance.

“I’m not sure you want to get involved.” You whispered.

“Oh, come on.” Sami whispered back. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Did you change the fucking password to our Twitter account?” Jimmy’s voice was outraged and Sami quickly turned off his phone, the temptation gone.

Meanwhile Jey just sat there and smirked.

Wednesday

Soft sunlight filtered through the bedroom window, warming your cheek and slowly rousing you from slumber. You could feel Jey’s strong arms wrapped around you, his breath tickling the back of your neck as he kept you pulled close to his chest. You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to him and smiling as you felt him lean up to kiss your temple.

It wasn’t uncommon to wake up in someone else’s bed. You weren’t picky about where you slept and you tried to be fair, giving each of the brothers an equal amount of attention. Jey made it hard though. He was quick to whisk you away to his bedroom, often doing his best to monopolize your time whenever the Tribal Chief was gone or busy.

“Mornin’,” He rumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Morning.” You echoed, twisting around to face him. He always looked so beautiful like this, his brown eyes half-lidded and sleepy as he offered you a lazy smile.

“Sleep good?” He murmured and you nodded, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

You quickly shied away, covering your mouth. “I don’t think you want all this. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Jey’s smile was a burst of sunshine. “I’ll survive.”

You relaxed as he kissed you again, his lips impossibly soft. You let out a hum of contentment and he pulled you closer, his hands warm against your bare skin. But when he moved his leg up to wrap around yours he immediately stopped, breaking away from the kiss to frown.

You stared at him. “What is it?”

Jey moved his leg around underneath the sheets, his brow furrowed. “This bed feel wet to you?”

Now it was your turn to frown, moving your legs around beneath the sheets to feel for yourself. The sheets did feel damp, especially near your feet.

You both leaned up at the same time to look and you couldn’t suppress a scream when you saw what was at the end of the bed.

It was a lobster.

A living, moving, wet lobster. The fucker was huge, rubber bands around his claws and his beady eyes staring at you. You continued to scream, pulling your legs up to your chest and pressing yourself against the headboard. Jey was so startled, both by the lobster and your screams that he jerked back, sitting up so quickly that he lost his balance. He fell off the bed, pulling the sheets, and the lobster, with him, where they landed on the floor with a loud thump!

You had enough courage to lean over the side of the bed and stare at Jey who was now sprawled out on the floor, his eyes wild.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He swore, yanking at the tangled mess of sheets and blankets to look for the lobster, who was now drowning in a sea of cotton.

You heard the source of the laughter before you saw it, Jimmy’s guffaws giving away his position in the bathroom. He was crouched in the doorway like a gremlin, a shit-eating grin on his face as he continued to point and laugh at his brother.

“Oh my god, that was fucking priceless!” Jimmy could hardly get the words out, his smile so wide you could see all of his teeth. “I should have gotten that on video!”

Solo and Sami were quickly in the room, summoned by your screams and Jey’s cursing. Solo looked worried, though the worry quickly shifted to annoyance at the sight of his older brother laughing hysterically. Sami just looked confused.

“What happened?” He asked, his eyebrow raised at Jey. “What are you doing on the floor?”

Jey hurled a pillow at him. “You think I’m just chillin’ here, uce?” He snapped and Sami looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Where is it?” You asked meekly.

“Where’s what?” asked Sami. He took a step forward and you raised your hand in a panic.

“No! Not another step!” You shrieked. “There’s a lobster in here!”

Sami immediately jumped back, staring at the jumbled sheets on the floor in confusion. There was a beat of silence before he finally said, “There’s a what in here?”

“Got it at the store this morning!” Jimmy sounded far too pleased with himself. “And if she hadn’t been in here,” He pointed at you. “I would have put it next to your face!”

Jey quickly stood, uncaring that he was naked or that there was a lobster somewhere lost in the room. He launched himself at his twin, the two of them tumbling to the ground, while Solo stared up at the ceiling in exasperation.

Thursday

Roman had insisted they take you out somewhere nice tonight. They had a big show tomorrow and you knew it would be some time before all of you could spend time together again. You were thrilled by the suggestion, smacking a huge kiss onto Roman’s cheek in your excitement when he’d told you the news.

It was the nicest restaurant in town, though you weren’t surprised. The Tribal Chief only took you to the finest places - nothing but the best for his girl. Roman had ensured that the seven of you had a private room, far away from the press and fans who seemed to follow them everywhere.

You sat beside Roman and Jimmy, watching with a smile as Paul told a particularly entertaining story about his ECW days.

You noticed Jimmy shift next to you, as if he were uncomfortable, reaching a hand up to tug at the collar of his shirt.

You leaned into his side. “Hey, you alright?”

Jimmy met your gaze with a distant smile. “Hm? Oh, yeah. It’s nothing.”

But clearly it wasn’t nothing. Jimmy continued to fidget uncomfortably, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He seemed unsure of what to do with his hands, often tugging on his shirt or pants while trying to be discreet. You leaned over, about to question him again, but he quickly got up and excused himself before you could, hardly tossing a backwards glance your way as he made a beeline for the bathroom.

You furrowed your brow in confusion, though the confusion was quickly cleared up when you met Jey’s triumphant gaze. He’d done something to his brother, that much was obvious, but you weren’t sure what.

You felt Roman’s hand on your thigh and you were reminded that the Tribal Chief knew nothing about the pranks going on between the twins. He hated them even more than you did and you knew that he would disapprove of the shenanigans, especially since he knew how quickly they escalated.

“Did Jimmy get lost?” Sami finally asked when Jimmy failed to return to the table. You were the only one to notice Jey’s smirk, though he quickly hid it by taking a sip of his drink.

“This is supposed to be a family outing.” Roman grumbled, his hand tightening against your thigh. You were quick to reassure him.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” You cooed, taking Roman’s hand in yours and rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. “Maybe he’s just feeling a little under the weather.”

Jimmy didn’t return to the table until well after the food arrived, his copper cheeks flushed red. You noticed that his forehead was still shining with sweat as he continued to fidget uncomfortably in his chair.

You reached out to take his hand and give it a squeeze, but he only offered you a weak smile in return.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You whispered and Jimmy nodded quickly, focusing on his food to avoid your concerned gaze.

Eventually Jimmy’s fidgeting caught Roman’s attention. “What’s your problem?” The Tribal Chief demanded, causing Jimmy to drop his fork in surprise. The entire table went silent, everyone staring. Jimmy seemed flustered.

“Uh…nothing, uce. Whatchu mean?” Jimmy tried to play it off with a weak chuckle but was failing epically.

“Why can’t you sit still?” Roman’s tone was scathing. “We’re supposed to be out enjoying ourselves and you’re acting like it’s torture for you. Is going out really that big of a problem?”

“What? No!” Jimmy seemed alarmed. “No, I’m good, uce. I just think I might be allergic to our laundry detergent or something.”

Jey snorted in amusement but he quickly returned to his food when Roman looked at him.

You pressed a sweet kiss to Roman’s cheek. “It’s fine, baby,” You murmured, hoping to distract him from his growing irritation. “I’m having a good time. Did you enjoy your food?”

Roman gave one more annoyed look to Jimmy before he turned back to you, his gaze softening as he answered your question.

Jimmy slouched in his seat, relieved to no longer be under the Tribal Chief’s scrutiny, though he threw his twin a dirty look. Jey ignored him, resuming his conversation with Paul and Solo while Sami looked on with interest.

Eventually the dinner concluded, the seven of you walking back out to the parking lot. You stayed by the Tribal Chief’s side, though you didn’t miss Jimmy grabbing his brother’s arm, hissing into his ear, “What the fuck did you do to me?”

Jey’s grin was devious. “Did you know you could buy itching powder online? Me neither. Glad to see it worked so well.”

Jimmy was seething. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

But Jey just laughed.

Friday

The twins were in the living room, both of them lounging exhaustedly after a particularly brutal workout. They wanted to be sharp for the show tonight, especially since they were defending their tag team titles. You watched appreciatively as Jey leaned back in his chair, his crop top riding up to reveal his toned stomach and his long legs stretched out in front of him as he leaned back to close his eyes. Jimmy looked equally delicious, manspreading on the couch with his phone in hand, his long hair tied up in a bun.

You stopped in front of them, clutching your back with a bit more drama than you usually did.

“Oh, god,” you moaned, rubbing your lower back as if you were in pain. “What the hell have I done to it?”

The twins materialized at your side, their hands immediately on you.

“You alright, pretty girl?” Jimmy seemed concerned, his hands warm as he reached under your shirt to feel the muscles of your back. You hissed dramatically as he touched you and Jey took a step back.

“What is it?” Jey asked, his tone worried. He was reaching for his phone. “Do I need to call one of the trainers up here?”

“No, no.” You waved your hand dismissively. “No, I think I just need you to pop my back.”

The twins had done it a million times before, their strong arms able to lift you with ease to pop your back whenever you had pain.

Jimmy’s arms were around you instantly, pulling you backwards against him so he could lift you.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded.

He lifted and your feet left the ground. That’s when you did it. You’d hidden two pieces of uncooked pasta in your teeth and you quickly bit down on them as Jimmy lifted you up, simulating the sound of bones cracking.

You immediately went limp, closing your eyes as you allowed your body to collapse.

“What the fuck?!” Jey’s voice was panicked, someone’s hands on you to keep you from falling to the floor. You felt a warm hand cradling your neck, someone’s breath against your cheek.

“Oh my fucking god!” Jimmy’s voice was equally panicked, his hands roaming you. “I didn’t…I didn’t think I-”

“What the hell did you do?” Jey bellowed, more hands on you as the two shuffled above your limp body.

“Babe, open your eyes!” Jimmy sounded distressed. “Oh my god, what the fuck…”

You didn’t actually want to torture them so you quickly opened your eyes with a wide grin. The twins were kneeling over you, both of them staring down at you in a weird mixture of shock and panic.

“Surprise!” You garbled, spitting out the uncooked pasta just to watch the twins’ eyes widen in realization. “I’m not dead!”

Jimmy’s mouth fell open. “You…”

“What the actual fuck?” Jey demanded, still angry and running high on adrenaline. “Why’d you do that?”

You sat up, trying to suppress your laughter. “To prove that pranks are stupid.” You told them, giving them a knowing look. “And to beg both of you to stop with the prank war before someone really does get hurt.”

Jimmy closed his mouth, his pupils still dilated from the near heart attack you’d almost given him. Meanwhile, his twin was still huffing and puffing, his brow furrowed as he looked down at you.

There was a beat of silence and you stood up, the twins quickly following in suit.

“I mean it.” You told them, your gaze at them now serious. “The last time you got involved in a prank war you almost burned down a hotel and wasted hundreds of dollars on a cement truck. Hell, I don’t even know what the cement truck was for. All I know is that we don’t need to go in that direction again. You're both even now. 2 for 2. So let’s agree to just end it here. Okay?”

There was a long silence. The twins looked at each other, then back at you. You could tell they didn’t want to, but you refused to give in, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Okay?”

The twins finally nodded, though they still refused to look at each other. You frowned.

“Good. Now hug it out.”

The twins stared at you incredulously, already beginning to protest.

“Come on…we agreed to stop, ain’t that enough?”

“I ain’t gonna hug Mr. Ugly, are you crazy?”

You held up your hand. “Hug it out or no blowjobs for a week.”

The twins’ arms were around each other so fast you couldn’t help but laugh.

Game Night

I ain’t ever playing wit yo’ cheatin’ ass again!

Cheating? Just admit you suck, uce.

You one to talk. Didn’t Solo take half of yo’ last paycheck?

Oh, you got jokes now, huh? Rich comin’ from you after Roman done took every penny to your name.

How ‘bout I come over there and knock that disrespect out yo’ mouth?

That was how poker night had ended last time. Had the Tribal Chief not intervened, the twins would have come to blows right there in the living room. After pulling them apart, Roman had sworn up and down that poker was officially banned and that they would not be doing this again.

Unfortunately, Roman was full of shit.

It didn’t matter how horrible the last poker night ended, they would still somehow always end up back here: gathered around the dining room table, beers in hand, and loud music in the background. No matter how strict Roman pretended to be he was just as weak as his cousins when it came to gambling. You couldn’t be sure exactly why, though you suspected that it might be because he was actually good at it. He almost always won, no matter how hard his younger cousins worked to take his money.

Even now as he kept you perched in his lap, his hand curled possessively on your thigh, you could see him holding the winning hand. You couldn’t help but smile, leaning back to pepper his neck with kisses. You heard his chuckle rumble in the large expanse of his chest, his lips soft as he kissed your cheek.

“Come on, y’all. We ain’t doin’ dinner and a show.” Jimmy’s words were annoyed, but his tone was playful as he eyed you in his Chief’s lap. You saw the way his eyes traveled down to your exposed breasts, his eyes filled with want. He was waiting for you to give up Roman’s lap for his. Which you had considered. But for now you were more than happy to stay in the Tribal Chief’s lap, his hands warm against your bare skin.

“What do you think, pretty girl?” Roman asked, his tone knowing. “Should I raise?”

You grinned up at him, nuzzling against his soft beard. “Mm hm. I think so, Daddy.”

“Well, you heard her, boys.” The Tribal Chief said, pushing his chips to the middle of the table.

You watched as Jey frowned, his eyes scanning his own cards. You’d told him a million times to work on his poker face but nothing ever changed. He still wore his heart on his sleeve, every thought still on his face no matter how hard he tried to hide it. It was one of the things you loved about him, even if it did cause him to lose every hand of poker he ever played.

Solo, on the other hand, was a professional. His stoic nature was both his weapon and his shield. In all their years of playing poker together, Solo was the only one to ever take any serious cash from his older cousin, much to Roman’s chagrin. Perhaps he’d win again tonight, his stony face giving nothing away.

While Jimmy was certainly better than his twin at hiding his emotions, he had tics - dead giveaways that you were quick to learn. His cocky attitude wasn’t nearly as effective as his younger brother’s stoicism and you could always read his eyes, no matter how much bravado he put on.

Sami was a bit more difficult to read. He was new to the game and he had been timid so far, folding every chance he got without taking any real risks. You wondered what Roman thought about it, though you didn’t get a chance to ask, his hand slapping your ass to urge you up.

“Grab me another beer, will ya, baby?”

The Tribal Chief’s words were commanding and you were eager to obey. “Yes, Daddy.” You murmured, pressing another kiss to his cheek before heading to the kitchen.

You tried to suppress a smile as the entire table leaned forward to watch you walk away. Roman really thought he was slick, but you knew him too well. He’d used you as a distraction. And his family had fallen for the bait.

You weren’t sure exactly what happened while your back was turned, but you heard a loud cacophony of groans and yells, no doubt indicating that the Tribal Chief had won. Again.

“Man, this some bullshit!”

“Jesus, we can’t catch a single break.”

“Damn, Sami, you gonna do somethin’ tonight, or what?”

“Hey! I’ve been dealt nothing but crappy cards!”

You returned with the Tribal Chief’s beer, smiling as he kissed your knuckles in gratitude. He didn’t urge you to sit back down in his lap, which you took as a sign that he was comfortable with you offering your attention elsewhere.

You looked up and immediately met Jimmy’s hungry gaze again. He’d been waiting for you for a while now and you knew you couldn’t deny him, making your way to his side and allowing him to pull you into his lap.

His arms were wrapped around you instantly, his lips attached to your neck as he pressed kisses there. You couldn’t help but giggle, your laughter causing him to smile against you.

“Sweet girl,” he murmured. It was his favorite thing to call you. “Love it when you sit with me.”

You leaned back against him, pulling your legs up to curl contently in his lap like a lazy housecat. “Love it when you hold me.” You returned, nuzzling into his beard as he leaned forward to grab the cards that Solo had dealt.

You didn’t miss the way Jey’s eyes flashed over to you, his emotions once again written all over his face. He was jealous, despite the fact that he had bent you over the kitchen counter no more than an hour ago. The man was insatiable. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the younger twin, throwing him a cheeky wink just to watch him squirm.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jimmy’s voice was smug. He’d noticed his twin’s jealousy too. “Got the prettiest girl in the world in my lap, don’t I? Too bad she don’t wanna sit with you.”

A splotch of color dotted Jey’s cheeks. “She only sittin’ with you ‘cause you need a handicap.” He grumbled, causing Jimmy to throw back his head and laugh.

“Don’t be mean,” You chided Jimmy, your fingers curling in the soft fabric of his shirt. “Or else I’ll get up.”

Jimmy’s grip tightened against you. “Oh, you ain’t goin’ anywhere, babygirl.” His words sent a shiver down your spine.

He held up his cards to you but you didn’t care much about them, opting instead to press your face to his chest and close your eyes.

You heard the others talking amongst themselves, but you felt lost in Jimmy’s touch, practically purring as he stroked your soft skin. You felt him slide his hand down your thigh, his hand resting dangerously close to your already leaking pussy. You felt your breath stutter, instinctively opening your legs just a little further to grant him access.

To the table, Jimmy announced, “Call!” and threw some of his chips into the pot. Meanwhile, his hand continued to creep further between your legs, your eyelids fluttering at the feeling. And when he found the wetness there it took all of your willpower not to moan lest you distract from the game.

“Still soaked, baby?” Jimmy had been the one to catch Jey fucking you in the kitchen. “Or is it just me that you all wet for?”

You reached out and grabbed his wrist, holding it like a lifeline. “Just…just you.” You stuttered, your hips instinctively pushing back to find the erection Jimmy was hiding in his sweatpants.

Jimmy chuckled, still completely in control as he dipped his fingers in between your folds, playing with you.

“Call.” Solo said gruffly, his eyes meeting yours across the table. He was always so difficult to read, but you could have sworn you saw the barest twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he looked on, knowing exactly what his older brother was doing to you under the table.

“Five.” Roman put in his bet. Sami folded. Jey raised. You leaned further into Jimmy’s touch, forcing yourself to keep still as one of his long fingers reached further down to tease at your empty hole.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Jimmy asked you, but you were playing a different game, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck as he kept his movements slow between your legs. Jimmy chuckled darkly, his lips brushing across your forehead.

“Guess I’ll call then.”

He leaned up to place his bet and you felt his erection dig deeper into your backside, your pussy spasming at the feeling. Jimmy smirked against your shoulder as he pressed a kiss there, his breath warm against your ear.

“Such a needy little thing,” he cooed, keeping his voice low as his brothers began to argue. “Need me to take care of you, baby?”

You nodded into his neck, your cheeks flushed as you met the Tribal Chief’s amused gaze. He seemed entertained watching you try to sit still in Jimmy’s lap, his eyes traveling down to where Jimmy was keeping a possessive grip between your legs. He smirked at the sight and you wondered exactly what he was thinking.

The final card came out and you glanced at Jimmy’s hand. He had nothing.

Still, the older twin’s face gave nothing away, his fingers continuing to glide through your soaked folds as he kept you close. You could feel warmth pooling at the base of your spine, goosebumps exploding across your skin as Jimmy’s beard brushed against the back of your neck.

There was a silence around the table and you realized that someone had asked Jimmy a question. They wanted to know if he was still in.

Jimmy chuckled against your ear. “I’ll let our pretty girl decide.” His finger dipped into your leaking hole and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“He folds.”

You heard laughter from the rest of the table as you grabbed Jimmy by his shirt and dragged him to the closest bedroom, though you didn’t miss the way Jey’s eyes followed the two of you, his expression hungry.

Jimmy kicked the door shut behind you, still chuckling as your frenzied hands tugged his clothes from him.

“Need me that bad, honey?” He sounded smug and it would have annoyed you if it didn’t turn you on so fucking much.

“I do,” You were too horny to be embarrassed about how desperate you sounded. “Need you so bad.”

Jimmy’s eyes darkened at your words and before you realized what was happening he was picking you up with ease, throwing you onto the bed.

His body was on yours in an instant, his lips latched onto your neck with such ferocity that you felt your back arch at the feeling, the pain and pleasure sending more warmth between your legs.

You felt his cock nudge against your entrance and your legs parted easily for him, soft whimpers falling from your lips.

“Such a slut for me, ain’t you, baby?”

You nodded, willing to agree to anything if he would just fuck you right now. Jimmy leaned up to look at you, his chain dangling above your nose.

“Beg me to fuck you.” He commanded, ignoring your gasp of surprise as he flipped you onto your stomach with ease. “Beg me to fuck you and if you sound pathetic enough maybe I’ll consider it.”

He was so full of shit. He was just as desperate as you, his cock rock-hard as he pressed against your backside. Still, you didn’t hesitate to obey, every thought in your brain focused on him.

“Please, sir, please.” You begged, the honorific rolling off your tongue with ease. You knew it drove him crazy. “Please fuck me, sir. I need it. I need you.”

Jimmy chuckled darkly, landing a harsh swat against your ass just to watch you jump.

“Keep going. I want to hear more.”

You wriggled your hips pathetically beneath his strong hands and he smacked your ass again. “Don’t be greedy,” he admonished, his voice rough. “Keep talkin’, slut. Let me hear it.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, desperate tears forming in your eyes. His eyes were dark, looking far too close to a predator surveying his prey, and you shivered.

“Please, sir. I need you to fuck me.” You sniffled, arching your back to present yourself to him. “I need you to claim me. Make me yours. Please, sir, I need it so bad.”

The tears started falling and Jimmy seemed pleased.

“Good girl,” he cooed, his cock beginning to push through your soaked folds. “It’s alright, baby. I’ll give you what you need. And you need it bad, don’t you, honey?”

You nodded, letting out a hiss as he pushed deeper into you, your body struggling to adjust to his size.

“Jesus, you stranglin’ my cock, little girl.” Jimmy groaned, placing his hand between your shoulder blades to push you down into the mattress. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and you knew it would leave bruises. “So fucking tight. Practically sucking me in.”

You whined beneath him, your body beginning to tremble with need as he filled you so perfectly.

He bottomed out and you almost sobbed from pleasure. You could feel him brushing against that sweet spot inside of you, this angle keeping him lodged so deep that you felt it in the back of your throat.

“Sir, please-”

You could hardly get the sentence out before Jimmy pulled out and slammed back into you, the movement so rough that you felt yourself being shoved back into the mattress.

“Yeah, that’s it, slut,” Jimmy moaned, his hips picking up speed as he thrust into you. He reached out and tangled his fingers into your hair, yanking at it so that your back could arch even more against him. “Take it all. You can do it, baby. I gotchu.”

His sweet words, so at odds with the brutal way he was fucking you, sent you into a haze, pleasure spreading across your body like wildfire.

Jimmy slapped your ass again and the sharp pain had you moaning, your pussy spasming around his massive length.

“Oh, you like that shit, huh?” Jimmy’s words were scalding you from the inside out, your cheeks burning as he continued to tug on your hair. “Like it when I rough you up?”

You tried to nod but Jimmy’s grip on your hair made it impossible. Jimmy laughed and the sound was mean.

“That’s okay, baby. I can give you whatchu want.”

He shifted the angle of his hips and you let out a strangled scream, his cock now hitting your g-spot with devastating accuracy. A few more slaps against your ass had you crying, the pleasure so good that it was threatening to overwhelm you.

“Please, sir.” You sobbed, barely able to keep your eyes open as he continued to hammer into you. “Please, can I come?”

“Come on this dick, slut.”

You lost all control of yourself, your muscles tensing as the powerful orgasm wracked your body. Jimmy’s tight grip on your hair kept you from fully collapsing on the bed, your pussy continuing to spasm and convulse around Jimmy’s massive cock.

“That’s it, baby,” he gasped, his hips stuttering against yours. “Such a good girl.”

He pulled out so suddenly that you choked on a sob, your body shivering at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Jimmy smacked your ass one final time before he came, thick ropes of come painting your ass and thighs.

Jimmy let out a contented sigh, slowly releasing his tight grip on your hair to allow you to collapse onto the bed.

"Shhh, it's alright, honey," Jimmy cooed, moving to your side so he could kiss your forehead. "You did so good, baby."

You felt goosebumps prickle at your exposed skin, shivering again as your body came down from its high.

Jimmy noticed, quickly wiping you down with his discarded shirt so he could cover with you a blanket, crawling beneath the covers to join you.

You let out a sigh of your own as Jimmy pulled you close, the feeling of his strong body beneath you keeping you grounded. Jimmy continued to whisper sweet praises in your ear as he stroked your hair, his lips soft as he kissed your tear-streaked face.

Jimmy suddenly looked around, as if he were just now figuring out his surroundings. "Ain't we in Jey's room?"

You looked around too, letting out a small huff laughter at the realization. "Looks like it."

"Hm. He ain't gonna be happy about that."

You smiled, pressing adoring kisses beneath Jimmy's jaw. "He'll get over it."

_____________

next part: valentine's day (solo)

previous part: bloodline property (part four)

besties: @mindairy @amandairene88 @askullasunflower @acute-crashout-jeyuso @partypoison00 @brianochka @femdisa @luvrsluxe @zephyrazzz @scorpiochaos @gardencottage

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takumiraine · 7 months ago

Text

Once upon a time Chapter 6

In which Danny has a bad night and Jason is conflicted.

“So you know how your friend walks home from GU?” Oracle asked, apropos nothing one night while Jason was mid patrol. The pit had been angry, and Jason was just looking for a fight.

“Now is not the best time to talk about him O,” Jason growled, swinging between buildings just to feel the brief rush of adrenaline from stepping off the roof of a building and falling. Watching the ground rush up to meet him. The pit had been angry over the last half hour, and it was only seeming to get worse.

“Alright. Just thought you’d want to know he is in a 6v1 in the Bowery and B is on his way.” Her tone was nonchalant, with an air of ‘have it your way’ even though he knew she knew he wouldn’t be able to leave it at that.

Jason, to his credit, did not splat on the ground or crash into a wall. But it was a near thing. “What?”

“I thought now wasn’t the best time?” She teased, before sending the location to his visor. “From the looks of things, he’s been trained by someone. Just did a sick Judo throw that would make A proud.”

“Is B going to get there first?”

“Oh yeah.” Jason groaned. It wasn’t going to go well.

“Can’t reroute him?”

“You want to tell him why?” Nope. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“No”

“There’s your answer.”

Jason groaned again, trying his best to swing faster. The closer he got, the more the pit writhed.

—-

Danny met the eyes of Batman, his grin dropping into a scowl. “Why are you here?” He asked, hands clenching back into fists.

“I came to help.” Batman said, beginning to zip tie the criminals hands.

“Help? Help?” Danny scoffed, kicking a rock towards Batman’s feet. “Now you want to help? I don’t need it anymore.” Danny took a step towards him, finger pointing in his direction menacingly. Batman paused and looked down at him again.

“I am very sorry I did not get here sooner, young man. But-“ Danny stormed towards him, getting into the masked superhero’s face.

“But you’re years late guano-man. I asked. And I asked. And I begged. All you” Danny jabbed him in his armored chest with two fingers, core screaming a litany of -rage-hurt-fear-“sent were those government assholes. You call yourselves heroes up there in that fancy ass tower, with your billionaire’s funding, but the reality is, if someone doesn’t live in one of your protected towns then they’re on their fucking own!” Danny shoved him back, and Batman took a couple steps then looked at something above and behind Danny’s head. He didn’t even have the time to look before Batman spoke.

“Hood, now is not the best time.”

Danny spun then, eyes widening then narrowing. “And you!” He stomped over to Red Hood, jabbing him in the chest for good measure. “Are you following me?! First with the stabbing, and I’m not even in your territory and you’re here! you claim you’re not with this asshole, but you’re here? You-“

Danny stopped himself mouth dropping open and core twisting into -recognition-shock-betrayal-angry- eyes glowing green before he could stop them. “oh this is fucking rich. You are stalking me. Knowing where I live isn’t enough? You have to insert yourself into my fucking life?” He backed away from the two masked vigilantes getting both of them into his eyeline. “None of you, or anyone else in your little justice mafia, ever talk to me or try to help me again.”

Danny backed up, circling until he was clear of both of them. Then once he was far enough away, he broke into a run, turning the corner at the end of the block.

—-

“Fuck.” Jason muttered as he realized he had been found out. Seeing the Lazarus green in Danny’s eyes, feeling the fear, shock, betrayal and anger just rolling off of him, his own pit responding in kind.

“Hey B? It was heavily staticked, so I might be wrong, but did the kid say you sent the government after him?” Oracle asked after a long moment of silence.

“He did.”

“I hate that I even have to ask but…. Did you?”

“No. Is there anything we need people on at present?”

Oracle’s typing was heard in their ears for a moment “No, it doesn’t look like it.”

“Recall everyone from patrol to meet at the cave. We need to go over every inch of this and find out what we’re dealing with.”

Jason was slowly moving his hand toward his grapnel. He needed to process this before anything else. Before he could, an engine revved and the Batmobile was pulling up.

“Hood. In.”

“But-“ Jason began to argue, only for Bruce to shake his head. Batman pointed and Jason felt like he was a kid getting caught stealing tires again. The pit in him demanded he fight back, but after a standoff that he knew felt longer than it was he slid into the passenger seat, door shutting behind him.

“He acted like he recognized you.” Bruce said after getting in himself.

“Yeah.” Jason wasn’t going to be forthcoming just yet he was still trying to process what the fuck just happened.

“Hm.” He could feel every ounce of focus not on the road on him and it rankled.

“Just come out and say it B,” Jason snapped.

“You know what.”

“Maybe I don’t. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Hm.” God he was so much like Damien. The apple fell from that tree and became nestled safely on the next branch down.

Thankfully the conversation was interrupted by the clicks of several people joining the main comm line.

“Hey, I heard the recall.” Dick. Great. Just what he needed. Big brother swooping in. “Everyone have their limbs?”

“Possible compromise situation.” Was the only reply Bruce gave. Jason resisted the urge to slump in his seat like a child being picked up from school for fighting.

“I’ll be in asap.” Dick had to be the responsible first born. Asshole.

“I’m also on about the same time frame. Orphan and I are just handing off a minor robbery.” Spoiler’s voice chimed in.

“Robin and I are en route from the south. Riddler was trying to be clever and we were having fun breaking his riddles before he could even finish his spiel.” Red Robin seemed smug. Really those two were the only ones that found Eddy boy the slightest bit amusing.

“I believe he was considering checking himself back into Arkham he was so frustrated with our prowess.” Damian’s smugness was rolling off him through the comm chat.

There was a little bit of extra chatter as they wrapped up the eta conversation, but Jason was trying to decide if he could dive out of the Batmobile and escape before Bruce could turn around.

As if reading his thoughts, Bruce looked over at him and gave him a look. He knew Oracle was keeping an eye on their route too so driving wasn’t needed to be a focus. Jason frowned and even though the mask hid it, he was sure Bruce knew.

When they got to the cave and parked, Bruce got out and removed the cowl. He stood there, watching as Jason got out, pulling his own helmet off. He could still feel the pit scraping his insides, and looking for an escape. How much was his and how much was Danny’s Jason didn’t know.

“Explain before the others get here.”

Jason turned and walked deeper into the cave, taking his usual spot against the wall. “About a month ago, I interrupted a mugging turned stabbing. Kid ran off with the knife still in him. O gave me basic info and I joined GU to start my threat assessment. He hates Batman and the assorted heroes, hadn’t said why, isn’t fond of Bruce Wayne because he supports the JL financially. Had some potential for becoming a rogue in the future but mostly just wanted to be left alone.”

Bruce gave a hum, settling at the Bat Computer and typing. Not making notes, but looking through the information Oracle had already collected. When Jason didn’t continue, Bruce turned to look at him again.

“Kid was broke. Looked like hell, so I fed him and paid him to catch me up in math. Even though he’s in remedial classes he’s practically at the replacement’s level. He said he had spent most of high school ghosting his classes because they were murder. Seeing his eyes today…. I believe he was being very literal. We…. Became friendly. He did not know who I was until tonight.”

“How did that happen?”

“The pit reacted to him. It… usually does, but not as intensely as tonight. It seems to be tied to his emotional state. He was pissed at you so… What did you do to the kid?”

Bruce sighed. “I’ve never met him before. I think that might be the problem.”

Jason scoffed, standing in silence and staring at Bruce’s tortured expression. Bruce, six foot two slab of muscle, who had just been yelled at by a scrawny young man easily six inches shorter and weighing a hundred pounds less.

Danny had fire, Jason would give him that. Blood pouring from his nose, the start of two black eyes from the break and still facing two masked vigilantes who were known for beating people up, or killing them in Jason’s case, like they were part of the problem.

It was…. It was kind of hot if Jason was being honest. The kind of hot he would openly deny and take to his grave (again).

One by one the different groups joined them in the cave. All in their patrol outfits. All of them staring at Jason and Bruce like they were expecting an announcement of Armageddon beginning.

Once they were all assembled, Oracle popped up on one of the screens.

“So here is what we know.” Bruce began a rundown of the night, starting with Danny getting jumped by some of Scarecrow’s guys and putting them all in their place before yelling at him and recognizing Jason.

Oracle put the cleaned up video of Danny fighting the guys on screen, and if Jason hadn’t thought Danny was hot before…. He would most certainly have now. The way he used his opponents’ weapons and momentum against them? It was beautiful. Danny at one point jabbed a goon in the stomach with one of the batons he stole, then kicked a second goon into him, sending them both sprawling. And the judo throw was nothing short of artistry.

“This is the concerning part.” Oracle zoomed in on Danny’s eyes during the confrontation with Jason. One second they were normal, the next they were very clearly glowing. Jason knew that shade of green too well.

“Have you managed to get any background on him?” Dick asked, eyeing both him and Bruce carefully.

“Only the basics and even then I’m pretty sure it’s doctored. I’ve tried doing reverse image searches on him, both with and without the enhancements I’ve done,” she popped up a side by side of various before and after pictures showing Danny in various states of glitching and the reassembled image from her work. “Every time I try to get anything more I run into this.” She put up what looked to be a standard ‘access required’ page complete with ‘To gain access please call’ and then a number.

“I’ve looked for any sneaky back entrances but they all seem pretty well guarded. I can get in but I would definitely be noticed.” For Oracle to admit that? That was some pretty high tech protection.

“Let’s call the number. Anyone got a burner they don’t want anymore?” Spoiler looked around, holding out her hand. Jason pulled one out of his belt and tossed it to her.

“O, pull my shit off of it?” He asked, planning on transferring all of his more illicit activities to a new number next week anyways.

“Done and done.”

Stephanie dialed and put it on speakerphone. It rang twice then there was the click of the line picking up. “Government Information Warehouse. Please state your name and identification number.”

“Oh my goooood, that asshole!” Stephanie had her high school voice on with just the faintest bit of squeal and complete with twirling her hair around her finger, even though those in the cave were the only ones who could see. “sorry, sorry, not you. I met a really hot guy. Like, hot hot, you know? And I thought we were really vibing. And he gave me his number and I was like, score! But then I call it and I get you! So like, I’m really sorry I won’t call again!” She hung up.

“Well that was disturbing.” From Tim who got an elbow in the ribs from Stephanie. “Steph’s acting aside, what’s our next play B?”

Bruce looked thoughtfully at the screen.

“Let me talk to him.” Jason was speaking before he was even aware of it. “Maybe…. He can explain.”

“He looked like he was a second away from punching you too little wing. You think he’ll talk?”

Jason had no idea. “Fifty fifty. Maybe better if we give him some time to calm down.”

“So long as nothing else happens, you have one week to let him calm down.” Bruce agreed. “The rest of you, stay extra vigilant. Frequent check ins when on patrol, and when away from the manor. Anything abnormal, no matter how small gets reported immediately.” The various bats and birds gave their agreements and started filing up to the manor for whatever food Alfred had laying around no doubt.

Jason stayed, debating going up. He had one week to figure out how he was going to do this.

One week was not a lot of time.

#writing #fanfiction #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #jason todd #red hood #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #batfam

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