#(will reply to asks once i get through the first half of the stranger things headers)

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

goal of the day: finish headers for twilight; star wars; outer banks; stranger things; narnia; pjo; umbrella academy; game of thrones; and original stories

if i can do that then the only ones i will have left to complete are the fandoms that still need some titles figured out

(mamma mia; life with derek, ocean's series; shadow & bone; sherlock; marvel; merlin; the batman; the society; hsmtmts; tasm; american housewife; jumanji; dc; white collar; jurassic world; vampire diaries; shadowhunters; arrowverse; riverdale; teen wolf; mcu; and my misc page)

pray for me y'all

[scorpioracha]

Dating Yoongi

We've finally got the dating Yoongi headcanons!! I'm sorry it took so long but boy is it lengthy so strap in. this is not proofread and im fucking exhausted so edits to be done eventually. if you enjoy reblog, like and leave a comment. cw: does contain smut and one kys moment

Your meet cute with Yoongi ended up being more of a meet awkward than anything. It was 3am at one of the many random convenience stores in Gangnam and you were exhausted, exhausted and hungry. You were doing a year in Seoul for your major and the timezones were really fucking you up. Puffy sleepy eyes,glasses on and a sleep mask resting on your forehead made quite the picture.

It was also quite the picture when you ran into a rack of honey butter chips and wiped out on the floor.

Full wipeout.

Legs up,gravity turned on its head wiped out.

Thankfully the only thing wounded was your pride, but you kinda wished you knocked yourself out so you couldn’t see the handsome man towering over laughing so hard his eyes practically disappeared and a gummy smile on his face. He had a cup of ice and one of those americano packets balanced in one hand and a helmet dangling in his other.

“...chana?”

“Huh?”you said in a daze. 

“Gwaenchana?”he purred in a low rumble. He looked at your lost expression and sucked in a breath.

“Are you okay?”It was a little clunky and half mumbled but you didn’t want to put this man through any more mental torment so you nodded quickly.

“Ne, na gwaenchana!”you replied and quickly scrambled to your feet, almost falling once again because your ankle decided now was the time to roll. He quickly reached out and steadied you, looking at you with so much bewilderment the whole situation felt comical. He looked at the hand that still rested on your arm and quickly pulled it away, you swear you saw his pale cheeks turn pink.

“Um…”he rumbled, looking at you with weary eyes. “stay”

You nodded with wide eyes as you watched this random man run around the convenience store and come back with a juice box and a random red pouch. He looked at you and held up each one.

“Bae juice”

He held up the red pouch. “Hong sam jelly for sukchwi…one moment”

He pulled out his phone and typed quickly. He held the phone to his ear and hummed.

“For hangover”he said, pointing to the two items again. Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly. You weren’t drunk. He definitely misinterpreted the situation and just smiled, giving you a smile and waving goodbye before disappearing into the night.

And what do you do when a pretty man buys you pear juice and ginseng jelly in a foreign country?

You fucking c o n s u m e it.

And the next morning when you woke up late to your 8:00am lecture, you just blamed the crazy night because wow what the fuck happened.

You spent the rest of your classes thinking about that handsome stranger. Maybe you did hit your head because WHY didn’t you ask for his name or his katalk? You could have done the whole ‘oh handsome young man, I need to pay you back’ kinda schtick but your brain decided to cosplay the very first windows computer and blue screen the minute you looked at him. stupid.

“Stupid” you groaned, trudging back to your dorm. You had been blessed—got accommodations—for a single room so it was just you and your twin sized 

Oh yeah, and your pining. 

Couldn’t forget about your pining.

You needed a drink. A good drink,some good food and some cartoons to get your mind off this random man. Within minutes you had a bottle of soju and a hefty platter of tteokbokki on the way. Maybe you’d go out for bingsu sometime this week with the girls from your lecture. They were sweet and treated you just like anyone else despite the racial and cultural differences, doting on you as their new maknae and always making sure you ate between classes. It was nice to be looked out for so thoroughly, especially when you were so far away from home. You pulled your phone out to text them when you got a notification that your delivery driver was already on the way.

Huh. they were already earning themself a tip. You stood eagerly by the door waiting and even though you were watching the app like a hawk, you jumped when the doorbell rang and scrambled to open it.

“Gamsahab-”you looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes. “...-nida”

“Soju?”he raises his brow in a way that says ‘again?’. You felt your face grow hot and shook your head rapidly. He just smirked and handed over your takeout bags.

Once again you fucked up,blanked and forgot to ask for his name.

 Damn pretty boy with his pretty eyes and his stupid smile.

It was months before you had seen him again. 

Time heals all wounds and you began to move on. You hung out more with your friends, went to karaoke,saw the sights of Seoul and slowly but surely felt yourself moving on.

It was on a rainy day in May where you found yourself at your usual convenience store. The weather went from sunny skies to torrential downpour within minutes and you had just gotten your hair done. You were looking for an umbrella but found yourself in the snack aisle. 

Blame it on the wind.

What you didn’t expect to find in the snack aisle were seven men bickering. 

You kinda just stood like 🧍🏾‍♀️ until one of them finally turned and god he was stunning 

“Yah, Yoongi-yah!! Move and let this lady through!”

The ‘Yoongi’ in question quickly scooted out of the way, mumbling about how they were all in the way. 

That mumble…

“Yoongi..”you whispered before you could even stop yourself. His gaze snapped up and for once you caught him off guard. His eyes flitted over you rapidly and his mouth opened and shut like a nutcracker.

“Soju girl,”he whispered. Then the moment was lost.

"na iroumi aniya(that’s not my name)” you huffed in annoyance. You know there was an honorific you were supposed to use somewhere in that sentence but your point still stood.

“You speak Korean”another boy said and god he was tall.

“Yes I speak Korean”you said, tilting your head up at him.

“Hyung, you said soju girl couldn’t speak Korean!”a voice laughs. You squint your eyes at this Yoongi who seemingly wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He stared at you like he had seen a ghost actually which wasn’t making things much better. The tall boy sighed and took a step forward, bowing even. 

“I apologize for my hyung,”he said solemnly. “He’s usually not this dumb. I’m Kim Namjoon and these are my bandmates. What’s your name?”

You smiled and returned the bow, happy to finally have some familiarity, both language and warmth.

“I’m y/n”you said. “I think me and your hyung have some catching up to do”

Yes, to say it was a meet awkward was the nicest way to put it.

It was a fucking train wreck of events if you were being completely honest.

You had exchanged info with Namjoon seeing as he spoke the most English and was the only one who didn’t 👁️👄👁️ at you which was nice and had quickly become good friends with one another.

Seeing that their leader liked you, the rest of the boys quickly followed suit and you suddenly had a much bigger friend group than you could even imagine.

Yoongi had become a lot more reserved in a way that was off putting to say the least. You’d only ever spoken to him twice before but there was something off.

you’d asked Namjoon about it during one of your study/music/kill each other from frustration sections and he just shrugged mumbling something about ‘hyung being busy’ 

you rolled your eyes and grabbed your stuff to find out yourself. That’s what you get for asking a dumbass.

Yoongi had been exactly where you’d expect him to be, crammed into one of the practice rooms with his headphones and laptop.

“Yoongi,” you said, tapping on his shoulder. He spun around in a startle and looked at you with a relieved sigh.

“Oh god”he breathed out, “I thought you were one of the maknae begging for food”

You couldn’t help but to smile, all the prior annoyance melting out of your pores and back to the depths of hell where they belonged. Talking to Yoongi was easy, that is when he was still talking to you.

“How do you know I'm not begging for food?”you smirked, taking a seat on the lumpy couch.

“Well, are you?”he asked, raising a brow. You shook your head and leaned back into the couch.

“You’re off the hook”you said, “but I do have a question” “Which is?” “Why have you been avoiding me lately?”

The room grew silent enough you could hear a pin drop. Cornered was the only way you could describe Yoongi. His shoulders scrunched up and he seemed to fold in on himself.

“No reason,”he said plainly.

Your eyes narrowed.

“So you have been avoiding me?”

His eyes widened.

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”you asked. Your patience was wearing thin and your heart was racing something ugly.

“I was trying to give you space”

“Space for what? I didn’t ask for space!”you snapped.

“Space for you and Namjoon!”he snapped back, folding his arms over his chest.

“Me and Namjoon?”you gagged. “The last thing me and Namjoon need is space, please collect your dongsaeng cause he won’t leave me alone!”

“Well he’s your boyfriend!”Yoongi threw back.

Huh.

“Huh?!”You shrieked. 

“It doesn’t take a genius to find out,”Yoongi continued, rolling his eyes. “So you can drop the naive act”

“Naive act—Yoongi, you think I'm dating Namjoon?”you asked. You felt like you were going to be sick. Namjoon wasn’t bad by any means, he was just so older brother coded it was disgusting.

“I don't think, I know,”he said. “You guys spend all your time together,you go on dates,you take naps together; it’s obvious”

“Well since you’re such a genius”You said, “How come you couldn’t tell that i’m in love with you?”

Huh.

“Huh?”he said, spinning around in his chair to fully face you. You ran a hand over your face and honest to god laughed.

“Idiots”you said in disbelief. “You’re all idiots”

“Hey-”

“I've been pining over you for months and this whole time you think i’ve been dating Namjoon”you said, shaking your head.

“You’ve been what?”Yoongi said. 

“Crushing on you”you emphasized, “You idiot”

“i..I don’t know what to say,”he said. You sighed and fully leaned back against the chair, feeling all the blood rush to your head from your bold confession. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“You can let me down gently for starters”you chuckled humorlessly.

“Let you down—what are you talking about?”he asked.

“Just reject me already!”You exclaimed, waving your hands frantically. You felt like a madwoman.

“Why would I reject you?”his eyebrows furrowed.

You were going to be sick.

“I’m going to be sick”you laughed, running your hands over your face and god were you crying?

“Why are you crying?”he rumbled softly, leaning in and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You just laughed harder, but that ended up turning into a sob because you were so tired. You weren’t expecting a fairytale but this wasn’t the turn you thought today would take. You felt yourself being pulled closer and you knew you should pull away, you knew better. It was all too much and he would just hurt you, but his hoodie smelled like coffee. His hoodie smelled like coffee and his hands were warm as they wrapped around you. You always wondered if he ran hot or cold, but he was neither; Yoongi was pleasantly warm. His hand had somehow wriggled between the two of you and rested on your cheek, rubbing the streaks where your tears trailed. His breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm and for a moment you felt weighless.

“What a mess, huh?”he mumbled, tracing his thumb over your temple. “I went and made all these assumptions…because I was afraid to say I love you”

“You love me?”you whispered. 

“Mm”he rumbled in affirmation. “You didn’t know?”

“No”you said, keeping your voice low, scared if you spoke too loud, the moment would disappear.

“I thought I was being obvious,”he said.

“I thought I was being obvious,”you said. You pulled your head back to look at Yoongi and that gummy smile was on full display.

“We’re both idiots”

Actually dating Yoongi went much smoother than the confession process.

In the early days, the two of you spent a lot of time in the genius studio doing parallel play, you’d work on your assignments and he would work on music. 

Obviously with many interruptions from the maknae line + hoseok, occasionally being prodded by Seokjin and Namjoon to eat,drink and get fresh air

Y’all needed to touch grass and they were sick of it

Being so close to the band in their early days formed an immeasurable bond between you all

But it also lead to a lot of sacrifices on your part that you weren’t prepared to make. 

There was the obvious like no posting about the boys on social media,nda’s up the wazoo,etc. This was all expected and you were willing to do so.

What you weren’t prepared for was how cruel the kmedia could truly be. You weren’t from here, you were a foreigner and that already put a target on your back. The fact that you weren’t thin or pale didn’t help one bit either. 

Thankfully, the boys and Yoongi reassured you in private. Namjoon did damage control and argued with the company to do more on your behalf, while Jimin and the maknae stood by your side like bodyguards wherever you went in silent solidarity. You were never alone. Jin dropped you off at university in the morning, along with Jungkook. Scolding the two of you to have a good day and to eat something that wasn’t chips. Naturally, Jungkook would bring you back once your classes were done and continued to gripe that even though he was older than you, he was still stuck in highschool.

You still hold this over his head to this date.

So thankfully, you had support. Support that if you didn’t have you weren’t sure where you would be honestly. It really felt like you all had become a little family, and being so far from home that was something you desperately needed.

Once the group got larger and was in a more stable position you better believe they all stopped holding their tongues, especially Yoongi. He could be a little hard to read at times but you were not expecting him to be getting himself into full on twitter wars on a burner account over you 💀

“Yoongi stop telling people to kill themselves”

“No”

Being in love with Yoongi felt easy, it was natural. He continued to take care of you in little ways whether it was packing your lunch,giving you transit fare or rubbing your temples when you were tired and falling asleep on him.

Our mans is definitely about that acts of service life. He loves quietly.

Pda made him want to die just a little inside but he wasn’t opposed to holding your hand. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide anyways, you guys were already public. 

He wasn’t the jealous type and although he’d never admit it, he loved how much you and the boys love each other. He’s got a bunch of pictures on his phone of you just in the dorms being domestic. You spent more time there than you did in your own dorm room.

 So although he doesn’t say it often, he shows it with every part of his being. The way his eyes sparkle when he sees you in the morning, his proud smile in your graduation photos. It also made his heart flutter that you got his dry humor and you dished it right back to him, smack in the middle of the maknae line teasing him and Jin about being old.

And when you learned Daegu Satoori from Taehyung to surprise him? Namjoon had to hold him back from proposing on the spot. And to think he ever thought you and Namjoon were dating.

Yoongi bits ✨tid bits about you and yoongi ✨

Yes Yoongi genuinely thought you were drunk and he wasn’t flirting(he got that nuerodivergent rizz)

When Yoongi told you the mint hair wasn’t real and washed it out you cried 🧍🏾‍♀️

You guys have two apartments together, one near Hybe and one in Daegu. You both prefer the apartment in Daegu because that means Holly gets to stay with you guys.

Everytime a new design for shooky it mysteriously appears in the apartment.

You guys have two cats per your request(a white one named sugar and a black one named gloss) the things Yoongi does for love

You guys have been happily engaged for the past year and he proposed in the most unromantic way possible 

NSFW

Baby, Yoongi is a switch with a capital S

Now I have never met a non kinky neurodivergent person and Yoongi is no exception. He enjoys a good power dynamic and has definitely explored kink in the past with previous partners so he’s experienced.

 But Yoongi does occasionally just like to fuck, no rules no dynamics. Just vanilla sex

He’s a lot softer than his image and he honestly likes the separation between the two for his own sanity. The fans think he’s this no nonsense hardass, but he’d much rather praise and reward you than dole out punishments.

He’s a softie at heart and finds a bit of bratty behavior to be cute so you can definitely get away with a lot. Not to say he’s a complete pushover but he definitely will let a good amount of back talk slide before he puts you in your place. It's almost infuriating how calm he is if you’re the type that brats in hopes of a punishment. He’ll just look at you and laugh about how cute you’re being before returning back to whatever he was doing.

It’s pretty hard to tick him off but also not impossible, the easiest way to get him to snap is to mess with him in the studio; especially if he has a deadline coming up. That's how you end up on your knees crammed under his desk not even allowed to suck his dick but just sit there and keep it warm while he works. The condescending mumbles and coos he lets out while stroking your head is enough to send you careening straight into subspace. “Just needed something in your mouth, huh?”he’d purr and gently drag his nails across your scalp

Tongue technology. We all know about it, but you get to experience this first hand at your beck and call. Yoongi is the first one to admit you’re spoiled and when you’re not being a brat, all you have to do is ask and he’ll be in between your legs. He could and has spent hours down there teasing your folds and giving you orgasm after orgasm until you can’t take it anymore.

Somnophilia. This is a kink that goes both ways for you guys but honestly he finds it really hot when you take what you need from him. Waking up groggy in the middle of the night to you fucking yourself on his cock is one of the quickest ways to get Yoongi whining and gripping the sheets. Bonus points if you tie his hands up or cuff them to the bed posts.

He’s not really a fan of quickies and prefers to take his time, but he’s not opposed to shoving you into a closet and getting you off on his fingers if you’re getting needy. He just wants to take care of his girl.

Speaking of his hands, they end up around your throat and in your mouth quite often. Whether you’re sucking or gagging on them, Yoongi makes good on this little fixation and makes sure you get your fill.

He’s down to being pegged. Somebody had to say it guys,🗣️ Yoongi wants something up his ass ‼️

Whether you have him bent over a table or you’re tied up and he’s riding you, Yoongi does enjoy penetration and he’s not ashamed of it. He likes how dazed and pliant you get when he’s bouncing on your strap all flushed and pink and whining. it’s a rush to his head and sends him over the edge faster than he can get a hand on himself.

He’s a fan of cozy aftercare and pillow talk. After you’ve both cleaned up and the bed is moderately clean, he’s off in the kitchen getting snacks and water so you two can cuddle and recap what you liked and disliked. He gets really affectionate after he cums so it usually dissolves into him mumbling praises and kissing all over your face before falling asleep.

All in all Yoongi is the best boy.

[wlntrsldler]

Three Hundred and Seventy-One Days | Luke Castellan

a/n: not canon-compliant! i hate this actually but i needed to write something to get me back in the zone! sunshine reader because i wanted a broody luke lol.

i. Three days.

Right before the sun sets behind the hill at Camp Half Blood, there's a chill in the air that hits Luke's skin in a way that makes him feel like he's back on the roof of his house in Connecticut. He found out about it when he returned from his failed quest when he was searching for a moment of solace, away from the pitiful eyes of the campers, away from the voice that haunted his dreams. Perched on a branch, hidden by the shade of the leaves, leaning against the bark of the tree with sticky amber clinging to the material of his orange shirt, Luke sits there until the sun disappears for the day.

It reminds him of the days he would crawl out of his bedroom window to escape the sounds of his mother's incoherent mumbling. He would sit there in nothing but a thin t-shirt and his cargo shorts, goosebumps rising on his skin, as he talked to himself. It was a bad habit he picked up in his younger years. He kept himself company at home because his mom didn't talk to him much, not really, and when she did, when her words made sense for once, all Luke could do was count down the minutes until he lost his mother again.

Before he was old enough to understand his heritage, who his father was, he used to pray to an entity he didn't believe in to give his mother moments of clarity, slivers of coherence so he at least knew something, anything, about the woman he called mom. But after the first time Luke's wishes were granted, he stopped praying. Somehow it was more painful watching his mother drift in and out of consciousness than it was living with a stranger he knew he loved, but knew nothing about.

For a year, that spot on the tree was a secret. Nobody knew that Luke would climb up there every day just to feel the breeze against his skin. Nobody questioned why the Hermes head counselor would disappear at the same time, until you came along.

"Whatcha doin' up there?"

Luke nearly lost his balance on the branch at the sound of your voice from under him. He looked down to see you smiling up at him, hands laced together behind your back. You were eighteen, the same as him, and when he first heard of your arrival, Luke was jealous. You got to have 18 years of childhood, while he was only granted half of that. It didn't seem fair.

"You should be at dinner," Luke replied, leaning back against the tree. The sun made the sky a soft orange color. The darkness of the night was creeping in through the corners of the sky, the chill he searches for each night engulfed him.

"To be fair, so should you, head counselor," You replied, analyzing the indents in the bark of the tree trunk that formed from Luke's constant climbing. You slotted your feet in the crevices, making your way to the tree branch beside Luke's. The two branches were close to each other, growing steadily until they almost touched at the tips. "Woah, this view is unreal."

"Be careful," He mumbled, clenching his jaw. "I'm not gonna take you to the infirmary if you fall and break a bone."

"Relax," You chuckled, situating yourself. "I can handle myself."

Luke nodded once and turned his attention back to the skyline. In this light, the scar across his cheek was prominent. It's healed well enough, but it still left a bump across his flesh that made Luke queasy every time he looked at it for too long. The two of you sat in silence as the sun disappeared. Luke tilted his head to look at you, only to find that you were already staring at him. He rubbed the side of his face against his shoulder as if trying to wipe away the scar on his shirt, "What are you doing here?"

You shrugged, "Not really into the whole offerings thing, to be honest."

"So you decided to wander into the woods alone?" Luke asked, "That's dangerous. There's a lot of things out here that you wouldn't believe. You can get hurt."

"But it's okay when you do it?"

"I know how to fight," Luke found himself taking on a defensive position. "You just got here."

"That doesn't mean I don't know how to fight," You replied. Your voice was calm, despite the slight bite to Luke's tone. "Just because I didn't spend my childhood playing with swords and bows and arrows doesn't mean I don't know how to fend for myself, y'know."

"The things out here are different from schoolyard bullies. I don't think you understand that."

"Are we going to ignore that I fought a hellhound on my way here or...?"

"You fought a hellhound?"

Luke wouldn't have guessed that by the way you walked into the Hermes cabin, all smiles and golden flecks of color in the irises of your eyes. You spoke in a preppy tone and he nearly had to grab his siblings by their ear to drag them away from you. If he was a betting man, he would bet that you were a child of Aphrodite.

"Mhm," You hummed, "See, I'm not so helpless."

"I didn't say you were."

"Yeah, but you implied it," You shrugged, not deterred by his tone. "Anyways, are you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"

"Well, I was trying to get some privacy," He replied. He should've been annoyed at the intrusion, but he couldn't bring himself to be upset with you as much as he should've been. "But that didn't go as planned."

"Sorry, sorry," You chuckled, putting your hands up in defense. "Didn't know keeping you company was a no-no. Maybe I do have some things to learn about camp after all."

He scoffed, "Hanging out with me should be the least of your worries."

"I dunno, I always seem to gravitate towards the broody types."

"I'm not broody."

"Right," You laughed. You turned to look at him, jaw dropping when you realized he was serious. "When was the last time you smiled? And not those fake, polite smiles you give to strangers trying to make small talk in the grocery store line, you know?"

No, he didn't know. He didn't go out much, much less to the grocery store to have conversations about the rising prices of produce or the lack of real milk options due to the infiltration of the non-dairy industry.

"I smile all the time," Luke replied, eyebrows furrowing in thought as he tried to remember the last time he smiled at someone. "I smile at campers."

"That's because it's your job, silly!" You giggled, shaking your head. "When was the last time you smiled just because?"

Luke pursed his lips, countering, "When was the last time you didn't smile?"

"When I was fighting the hellhound."

Luke felt his lips quirk up at that. It was a quick-witted response, he'll give you that. He stopped it from becoming anything more and cleared his throat.

"Okay, I'll leave you to it," You sighed, carefully stretching your legs down to the first indent on the tree. You skillfully climbed down and landed on your feet with a thud, "See you around, Luke."

Luke's mouth felt dry at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He was never a fan of his name before. He thought it sounded generic and unoriginal, but when you said it, it didn't sound half as bad as he thought it was. His stomach churned in a way that was foreign to him.

"Hopefully, not here!" He called out, watching as your figure retreated back to the main grounds. "Privacy, remember that!"

"I like the broody types, remember that!" You called back, waving to him before you disappeared into the maze of trees.

ii. Twelve days.

"You lied."

You looked up from your book with an eyebrow raised as you stared at the counselor at the foot of your bed. Luke was standing there, the signature stern look etched on his face. You placed your bookmark in your book, sitting up on your bed as you smiled at him, "Excuse me?"

He had his arms crossed over his chest, the beads of his camp necklace resting on the tops of his knuckles, "You lied. You didn't fight a hellhound."

"Okay, so I didn't fight a hellhound," You said, dragging on the word 'fight' for emphasis. "But I encountered a hellhound."

"Which you befriended."

"Which I befriended," You confirmed, "I named him Stanley. Wanna meet him?"

"No," Luke replied quickly. "That shouldn't even be allowed in here."

"He's sweet," You tutted, slipping your feet into your shoes as you stood up. "Give him a chance, I swear you'll love him."

"You're keeping a hellhound as a pet?"

"He's just a baby," You cooed, jutting out your bottom lip.

Luke felt his face twitch in half-annoyance and half-fondness. He didn't know if he found your naivete dangerous or charming, or both, but he was scared for you. You were too trusting for your own good, "He is not a baby. He's a monster."

"Don't talk about Stanley like that."

Luke rolled his eyes, falling into the same rhythm as your steps, "You don't realize how dangerous this is, Y/N."

"Here you go with the danger thing again," You teased, nudging him. Luke's breath got caught in his chest. Your simple touch seemed to burn his skin. Sparks erupted across his entire body. "Told you, I'll be fine."

"Not every monster you encounter can be defeated by the power of friendship. You can't rely on some kumbaya shit."

"Kumbaya?" You snorted, looking at him with an unreadable expression on your face. You scrunched your face up, a tiny smile tugging on your lips. "You're so...."

"I'm so what?" He questioned, planting his feet on the ground.

"Odd."

He tried not to take offense to that because while your words were like a dagger to his heart, the way you said it showed that you didn't mean it in a bad way. You seemed to be trying to figure him out, pressing his buttons, trying to see what made him tick. And you were succeeding. Luke never ventured to talk to new campers unless he was forced to by Chiron, but he couldn't fight the pull you had on him.

"Broody and odd," He said, resuming his steps, "I'm swooning."

The full belly laugh that escaped you made Luke's steps falter. Campers surrounding you looked at you, confused as to what Luke could've said that made you react that way. Surely, the Hermes Head Counselor wasn't that funny. He wasn't known to crack jokes, not since he returned. You couldn't help it, though. He said it in such a deadpan way that made your sides hurt from laughing so much.

"Just my type," You teased.

Luke didn't like how his cheeks were warming up at your comment. He's not one to flirt or be flirted with. He found girls attractive, sure, but most of them were too intimidated to talk to him so he never really had experience in that department. But he supposed since you grew up in the world, you were used to doing things like this. He wondered if you knew the effect you had on him.

"Dinner is supposed to be good tonight," He said, changing the subject. He was looking everywhere but you, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks that seemed to not want to subside.

"Oh, no you don't," You shook your head. "You are not gonna tempt me into going to dinner just so you can hide away in your tree. I'll be there, Castellan."

He grimaced. He was hoping that you'd fall for the trap, but he was learning quickly that you weren't as gullible as he hoped you'd be. Luke sighed, accepting defeat. "Fine, but can you just be careful? You've been lucky that there weren't any creatures lurking around."

"Why don't we just go together?" You asked, "So you can stop worrying about my safety and all."

"I'm not worried about your safety," He lied through his teeth. The idea wasn't bad though. It would keep him from wondering if you were attacked on your way to meet him. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about it. He didn't like this weird protectiveness he had over you. He didn't even know you. "But fine. Meet me at the Hermes cabin after they ring for dinner."

"You got it," You saluted him playfully as you walked away, skipping to meet up with members of the Apollo cabin. How did you manage to make so many friends so quickly? And why did you insist on sticking with him when it's clear that you had other friends you could be bothering instead of him?

Luke tried not to think about it too much as he continued on with his day, but no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept pulling him back to you. During his lessons with other campers, he took mental notes of what moves he should teach you, just in case anything happened so you'd be prepared. During arts and crafts, he found himself reaching for the gold glitter because it reminded him of your eyes. This caused raised eyebrows from other campers since it was well-known that the counselor didn't like glitter post-Glitter Gate where he was shaking out glitter from his curls for days.

By the time dinner rolled around, he was thankful he stopped thinking about you, but soon realized that it was worse now that you were in front of him, all smiles and banter as you always were. It was getting harder to contain the redness of his cheeks as you complimented him in your own way.

"Lead the way, Castellan," You grinned.

Luke couldn't help but return your smile.

iii. Sixty-six days.

"Stanley, down," You instructed, leaning over to scratch the hellhound behind its ears. "Good boy."

Luke's sword was raised in a fighting stance as he watched you giggle as the hellhound nuzzled into your touch. You somehow managed to make him agree to meet the monster. Pathetically, it didn't take much for Luke to agree. It took you batting your eyelashes at him with a small pout and he reluctantly agreed to meet Stanley.

"Luke," You called him over, still petting the hellhound. "Come on, he won't do anything to you."

"I'm good right here," He grunted, holding onto his sword. "If he tries anything, one of us should be ready and you obviously have your guard down."

"He won't," You assured, "He's sweet."

"Nothing from the underworld is sweet, Y/N."

"You don't think I'm sweet?"

Luke rolled his eyes. You'd been claimed by your father, Hades, a few days ago. It made sense the more he thought about it. The hellhound wasn't sent to attack you, but to protect you. It was sent by your father to guide you to Camp Half Blood. "You're not technically from there."

"Same shit," You shrugged, patting the spot next to you on the grass for him to join you. "Come on, Luke. Come meet Stanley."

It was against everything he believed in. He shouldn't walk over to you to pet a monster like it was a stray dog on the side of the road, waiting to be rescued. But his feet seemed to have a mind of their own because before he knew it, he was walking over to you, sword tossed somewhere beside him to keep his hands free to touch the surprisingly soft fur of the hellhound.

The hellhound purred under Luke's touch, gentle and loving. If Luke ignored the scary color of its eyes, he would confidently say that it was just a dog. Luke's shoulders relaxed, "Okay, he's not half bad."

"Told you," You said, leaning against him. Luke's hands froze for a second, making the hellhound whine. He resumed his scratches, not wanting to take his chances and angering the dog. "See? Not all of us from the underworld are scary monsters."

"You're not from there," He repeated, "Stop saying that you are."

"Hades is my dad, Luke," You whispered. "So I am. I am a part of him."

"You're nothing like the gods."

There was something in his voice that made your heart pound in your chest. It was no secret that Luke's relationship with his father, and all of the gods for that matter, was strained. Luke saying that you were nothing like them with such sincerity made your head spin. It felt definite. It felt like a fact that he could never think of you as that.

"Could be nice though," You joked, trying to cover up the swell in your chest with humor. "Immortality and all."

"Nah, this one life is enough for me, I think."

"What? You're not shooting for rebirth?"

If anyone else would've asked him the same question a year ago, even a few weeks ago, he would've said no. If any of his other lives were like this one, he would decline the request if he could. All that he'd gone through in this lifetime was enough.

But now you were asking him that question with a twinkle of hope in your eyes that made him wonder if he'd judged this life too soon. Maybe there was more to life than fighting and running. Maybe the moments of life when he sits on a tree branch watching the sunset, or when he's yelling at his siblings to stop running in the cabin, or hell, even when he was petting a goddamn hellhound, were enough to make him wish for another shot at this life thing.

Maybe he just needed to learn a thing or two from you. If he could continue to know you in each lifetime, maybe he'll turn out fine.

"Maybe," Luke poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth. He blinked, "I don't know."

"Keep an open mind to it, is all I ask," You said. "I wanna find you in every universe just so I can annoy the shit out of you in each one."

He chuckled softly, not missing the smile that widened on your face as you watched him crack. "I changed my mind. No rebirth for me. I can only handle you in so many lifetimes."

"You'll grow to love me."

I know, Luke wanted to say, and that's the part that scares me the most. Throughout his years at Camp Half Blood, Luke prided himself in knowing that when push comes to shove, he can do what's necessary to succeed. It's what made him the perfect Head Counselor, the best swordsman that Camp Half Blood has seen in years. It's what made him a hero.

But now he didn't feel like that was the case anymore. He was growing soft, weak. He'd spent so much time trying to protect you and keep you from danger that he forgot about protecting himself. You found his Achilles heel and well, Luke was just waiting until he surrendered to you.

He opened his mouth to speak, "If Stanley doesn't kill me first."

If Luke could bottle up the sound of your laughter, he would.

iv. Three hundred and sixty-five days.

"Who is that?"

Luke followed Percy's eyes to the other side of the field. His lips turned up at the corners as he saw you waving at him with a smile on your face. Luke waved back with the same enthusiasm, confusing the boy beside him.

"That's Y/N," Luke responded, picking up his steps to meet you halfway. "That's my girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"I know, shocker!" You teased, placing a kiss on Luke's cheek. Luke wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer, completely oblivious to the grimace that graced Percy's face. "Mr. Stick-in-the-mud head counselor has a girlfriend."

"Hey!"

Percy scrunched his face up, "You kinda are a stick-in-the-mud. No offense."

"Offense taken," Luke scoffed, poking your side. "Y/N, this is Percy. He's new here."

You stretched out a hand in greeting, "Nice to meet ya, Percy. Welcome to Camp Half Blood."

"Are you always this preppy?"

"She is," Luke said, shrugging. "Nice change of pace from the rest of us, don't you think?"

"Sure," He nodded, eyeing the both of you. Luke's arm didn't move from your waist and you didn't seem to mind. He was too young to understand why you and Luke didn't want to have any personal space. "Are you joining us on the tour that Luke is giving me of Camp Half Blood?"

"Wish I could, but the Stolls are planning to TP the Ares cabin as a prank and I should probably stop them before someone gets maimed at Capture the Flag tomorrow," You cringed.

Luke sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder. You tangled your fingers through his curls, trying to offer some comfort, "I told them not to do that."

"When have your siblings ever listened to you?"

"They used to before you came along!" Luke groaned, "But now they only listen to the pretty counselor."

"Must run in the family," You teased.

"Shut up," Luke grumbled, lifting his head up. Percy could see the blush on Luke's cheeks and he cringed. He hoped he'd never end up like this when he became a teenager. It was obvious you had Luke wrapped around your finger. "Go stop them before Lee gives us a lecture on the dangers of resorting to violence. Again."

"I'm going, I'm going," You laughed. You placed a quick kiss to Luke's lips before waving goodbye to the two boys. Before you were out of earshot, you turned around, "Tree later?"

"See you there!" Luke replied, grinning at you until you made it across the field. He turned to Percy, scratching the back of his neck, "Sorry about that. Where were we?"

"Archery."

"Ah, right! Archery," Luke nodded, continuing his steps, "It's down this way."

Percy followed Luke through the field, staring at the signs that pointed in different directions. Camp Half Blood was huge. This tour was definitely going to take longer than he anticipated. Not wanting to continue with a lull in the conversation, Percy spoke up, "How long have you and Y/N been together?"

Percy figured that Luke would have a lot to say about you which would fill the silence. He was right. Luke smiled at the boy, "A few months. She got here last year and it's been us two ever since. Took me a minute to ask her out, though."

"Well if you liked her, why did you wait? That doesn't make much sense."

"It was complicated," He replied, "I didn't really accept that I liked her until way later. Kinda kept my feelings to myself for a while."

"Is this what being a teenager is like?" Percy asked, cringing at Luke's words. He always imagined that falling in love with someone was easy. If two people liked each other, they should be together, right?

"Yeah," Luke laughed, patting Percy on the back. "Enjoy your early years, Perce. It gets worse from here."

"Geez, you really know how to inspire confidence in someone."

The laugh that escaped Luke reminded him too much of you. There were parts of you that weaseled their way into him. He didn't understand why you laughed so hard at his deadpan comments before, but now that he was on the receiving end of it with Percy, he saw why.

Percy reminded Luke a lot of himself, back when he was younger. It was a weird thing to meet a foil of yourself, someone who you could've been if things had been different. Luke wondered if he'd be like Percy if his life hadn't been so cruel. Not that Percy's life was all sunshine and rainbows, either. Luke heard through the grapevine that Percy lost his mom during the battle with the minotaur, but at least he had a mom that he knew. He had a mom that cared for him.

Luke was dreading the day Percy got claimed. Something told him that it would cause a ripple effect. Start things that Luke wasn't ready for, not yet. Maybe he'll never be ready for it. Had he known that he'd meet you, maybe he wouldn't have said yes to it. Maybe if you had stumbled into Camp Half Blood a day earlier, he wouldn't be facing this.

Luke faked a smile, shaking away those thoughts, "Come on, archery's just around the corner."

v. Three hundred and seventy-one days.

"Thought I'd find you here."

Luke closed his eyes at the familiar voice that joined him on the tree branch. The separate branch that you used to it on morphed into his own. Two branches intertwined, a simple work of nature, but it felt like a symbol. An omen.

The fireworks illuminated the night sky. Luke had never been up here this late before. The air was cold.

"What are you doing here?"

You let out a dry chuckle, "Dejavu for a second there."

"Y/N."

You gulped, slowly inching towards him. There was a crease between his eyebrows as he stared ahead. You sighed, "I came looking for you."

"Why?"

"Luke, don't do this."

He sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his balled-up fists. He winced as he put too much pressure on his cheek, his scar stinging at the contact. It's been more sensitive lately the more he spoke to Kronos. He shook his head, "I have to."

"No, you don't," You pleaded, placing a hand on his arm. "It's not too late."

"It is. Don't you understand?" He sobbed, "It's too late."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to break your heart," He whispered. He felt silly saying it out loud, but it made sense to him at the time. He couldn't bare to see your face when he told you about everything. That's why he was going to leave without saying goodbye.

"How's that going for you?"

How you managed to make him laugh even during this, even during the end, was beyond Luke's understanding. He wished you didn't have an effect on him like this. It would make things so much easier.

"I'm sorry."

"For breaking my heart or for betraying all of us?"

Luke licked his lips, "Both."

You removed your hand from his arm. Luke shivered without your touch. "I'll see you again, yeah?"

"I don't know."

"I know," Tears pricked your eyes. Maybe it was the shock of it all, but you were calm. Too calm. It didn't feel real that just a few steps away, camp was in disarray because of the boy beside you. "Rebirth, remember? In every lifetime."

"Sure," He said. Maybe the hope of it all will be enough to get him through this. "I love you."

"I love you, too," You said, leaning over to place a last kiss on his lips. You pulled away as you felt your tears mixing with his, "Go, they'll come looking here soon."

Luke nodded and made his way down the tree. You watched him fade away in the distance.

[locallixie]

housemates — lee know

> summary . how can you live your life peacefully with having your housemate constantly seducing you like that?!

> genre . smut, fluff, housemates au, forced proximity, housemate!minho, gn!reader.

> warnings . sexual tension, general sexual themes, minor language, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, tipsy sex.

(wc) > 6.3k

(sunny's note) ☆ "and they were roommates.” wanted to be sweet and cute, until lee minho is in the equation. sorry for the late upload, i had a really bad writing slump and progress was slow. but i made it!

You shouldn’t have agreed to this if you knew this was how it would turn out. What a mistake, your kindness that yourself and other has taken for granted. And currently stuck in a living situation that tested your patience every waking hours, your dormitory experience was no match for this.

Jisung had asked you for a ‘small’ favour a couple months earlier, about how his friend got evicted and was now homeless, wondering if you could let him stay for a while until he find a new place. First of all, that was not a small favor. Secondly, you didn’t even know this friend that he was talking about. And you were reluctant to let a stranger stay in your house right off the bat. You lived in a dorm before, but that was a dorm and not your own house.

“Please, [Y/N], just a couple months.” Jisung pushed over the phone, you could tell he was outside from the loud and slightly muffled noise that the speaker picked up upon.

Sighing, your soft spot for him would be the death of you. Agreed with hesitation, since you were glad you were out of the dorm life and regained your privacy, but it seemed that life had came to pull you back in. Jisung should be expecting your complaints if something bad happened between you and your new housemate.

From the first initial meeting, you got some of the weirdest vibe from this guy. Maybe it was the amount of black and leather he was dressed up in, or the bitchy look on his face that could kill with a single stare. How the fuck was Jisung friends with a person like this? They were the complete opposite of one another, the guy looked as if he committed first degree murders as his favourite past-time. What you meant was you were convinced that he was a sociopathic killer, and he was probably plotting yours and Jisung’s death soon.

For one person, he sure did had a lot of stuff. You three brought around eight or ten different sized carton boxes up to your apartment, not counting the two gigantic suitcases that he had to take a second trip with Jisung to go get. He must have been living in his old place for very long to have that much stuff, wonder why he got kicked out? Possibly because the landlord found the bodies with how sharp his eyes always glared at.

“Don’t worry about the rent, Minho can pay for his half.” Jisung reassured, starting his car. The engine roared loudly, it had been through a rough day of carrying all that stuff to here.

Before he left, Jisung told you one last thing. “Oh, and don’t be afraid to ask him for help around the house, Minho may look intimidating but he’s quite a sweet guy.” With that sentence stuck in the back of your head, he drove away. If you could even have enough courage to ask him to take the trash out, maybe that statement would be proven.

You did all the house chores yourself, you didn't ask for any assistance from Minho. Wether it was because you were used to having to do everything yourself, or he was just still as unapproachable as the first time you two met. But he too, barely talked to you. You heard his voice once or twice when he was on the phone, but he did not speak a full sentence to you and ought for short few words replies.

"Do you need any help?" Another voice emerged from behind your back, offering assistance.

You pulled the trash bag out of the can, "I'm good, thanks,"

"Whatever, suit yourself." Minho walked away. Not even a bit of small talk? It frustrated you of how aloof he was acting, he didn't want to get to know you at all. However, it pissed him off just as much, you would always shrug him off every-time he offered to help you. As you two had made it clear before, you hardly knew each other, and here you were living together as people of unfamiliarity.

You didn't know his last name, or how he met your three years best friend—Jisung. Neither did he held any personal information about you, he wasn't even sure which variation of your name was the correct one. Already a month has passed by and no one was willing to start up a conversation with the other person. This ice between you and Minho just kept getting thicker and colder.

Ranting on the phone, "I'm telling you, I can not get through him! I think he hate me!"

"Calm down, [Y/N], he doesn't hate you." Jisung reassured, sighing as this was the third phone call of the month that you were expressing your discontent for the same subject. "It's simple, just talk to him, even if it's small talk."

Hearing the front door opened, "Fuck, he's back, I'll talk to you later." You didn't let Jisung say 'bye', hanging up in the midst of his sentence.

Minho worked a nine-to-five job, you weren't sure of his occupation in particular. You got a sense of his routine, he would leave the house at exactly seven-fifty in the morning and usually came home around five or six—depending on the traffic that day. On few occasions, he was nice enough to bring food home for the both of you.

"Hey, you're back quite late today?" You asked, seeing the clock already hitting six at the moment.

He set down a few plastic bags on the table, "I got groceries on the way, I'll cook dinner." He explained shortly, bringing ingredients to the kitchen for preparation.

That was a first, he had never offered to cook before, much less thanking you for the meals you made for dinner. Guessed he was just hot and cold like that, and this was his way of showing his gratitude. You weren't mad, on what normal day would you have someone cook for you enjoy? You technically did everything yourself when you moved out a few years ago.

Watching his figure diligently cooking in the kitchen, it comforted you in an unusual way. He was like your own personal boyfriend—for tonight at least, he would cook and then sit at the table with you to eat, maybe he might even offer to wash the dishes. A fine, hard-working young man? Anyone who could scored him would probably be winning in life. You couldn’t hide your jealousy if he ever bring home a date.

He walked over to you, holding out a spoon with a small portion of thick orange liquid. Minho asked, “Try it, tell me if it suit your taste.”

The tangy flavour stood out immediately, he must have put something citrusy as it melt into your tastebuds. It was good, no, amazing even! This hidden talent of his was worth all the waiting you had done, you never knew Minho could be such a great chef. For a while, you thought this guy couldn’t possibly hold a knife correctly, yet you were proven wrong of your assumptions.

You nodded, the sound you made when encountered good food already told him enough. Everything smelled so mouth-watering, and the presentation was tempting you to devour everything in on sitting.

"Thanks for the food!" As soon as he placed the last dish onto the table, you immediately picked up your utensils. You could not hold yourself back when face with good home-cooked food, good home-cooked food made by an equally good-looking guy.

Minho sat down beside you—he usually sat across from you which kept a nice distance between the two of you—he was very close today. Asked he, "How is it? Good?"

You didn't hold back on your praises, "God, why didn't you cook sooner? This is actual heaven~!"

He simply smiled in a humble manner. Your face was a little puffed up when you eat, which he found quite endearing. Watching you stuffed your entire face with rice, sweet and sour ribs, and eggrolls. Flattered by how much you were enjoying it, yet concerned from how fast you were eating.

"Slow down, wouldn't want you to choke." He gazed at you as he advised.

"Unless you like it like that." Immediately, you started coughing profusely. A grain of rice flew up to your nose, making everything worse the longer it stayed stuck up there.

Minho patted your back, "Woah, are you alright?" Uh, obviously no?! You were coughing out rice over here, how could you even be remotely okay? And how did he expect you to be okay after that suggestive comment he just made? This guy was unbelievable. The smile laced with deviousness, as if he was silently planning something that would catch you off guard—which certainly did a minute ago.

He picked up a single rib and ate it with his chopsticks, he probably mind getting his hands dirty from that sticky sauce he used. How could Minho looked so graceful while eating while you were here devouring everything down like a fucking caveman. Work on your image a bit, would you? Especially when you were living with someone that wouldn't use their hands to eat ribs.

"Have you been talking to Jisung recently?" Minho suddenly questioned, setting down his bowl as to show respect.

You turned to him, confusion sitting on your shoulders and your heart sinking with a bit of guilt. By any chance, did he overheard your conversations? "Yeah, I have." Continued by another question, "What? Are you two not talking?"

Minho's eyes was bigger than you expected, now seeing him a bit closer from your distance from each other. It curved in a very pretty way, and glistened upon every reflections of his soul. You couldn't help, couldn't help but get a little sad every-time you gazed into his eyes, or when they would unknowingly stared back at you. He looked at you, as if through his eyes saw you as the most precious person to exist in the short timespan that was the human life.

"He haven't been answering my texts and calls, I don't know if he's upset with me or something?" Minho sighed, "Can you...just ask him for me?"

In a bit of hesitation, "Would it be a bit rude for an outsider to chime in? Whatever it is you and Jisung are going through, it's best if you two worked it out together...privately." You told, trying to offer other solutions.

Minho let out a tired breath, "I don't know, I'm not sure what I did wrong that made him upset with me, that's what I'm most worried about."

You patted his back, "Just talk it out with him, communication is key!" How ironic, you could hardly hold a conversation with him, and now you were here giving out communication advise? Unreliable source. You knew you shouldn't interfere with whatever beef Jisung and Minho was having between each other, but you were making it seem like you wouldn't ask Jisung for details. Or Jisung would tell you himself from how much he like to rant to you.

Minho flashed a genuine smile towards you, "Thanks, I owe you one!"

Your heart skipped a beat, just one enough for your whole system to go the very bit haywire. You were finally making some good progress with Minho, and his entire intimidating and remote façade all came crashing down when he smiled. Keep up the good work!

“Are you and Minho back on speaking terms yet?” The other line went quiet for a few seconds, you heard a sigh being let out.

Jisung replied with a question, “He told you?”

Fuck, your nosy tendencies were acting up again, it slipped out of you like a natural instinct. “No—um, yeah he did but I don’t know the details or anything! He was just wondering if you were mad at him or something since you stop contacting him.” You went on to explain, trying to tell Jisung that you weren’t intending to be impolite and simply wanted to help your friend out.

The other giggled at your tone of voice, of how freaked out he got you. You acted as if the people you were working for to take down started suspecting you to be a double agent, but unlike those action films, you were terrible at hiding the truth.

“My girlfriend don’t like the fact that I’m still friends with my exes, so she wiped out their contacts from my phone.” The whole problem was finally solved as the explanation came out.

Wait, one thing. “Minho is your ex?!” You exclaimed at the sudden realization.

Jisung was absolutely enjoying this from the other line, “What? You want him?” He teased.

Your face went red, denying the question thrown at you. This whole time, this was the relationship your housemate has with your best friend? And he had never cared to tell you about anything regarding this romance he once had? All these people do was lie. Struggling through your words, you outwardly rejected the idea. “No—! No– I don’t! I—!”

Jisung interrupted, “It’s fine, he’s all yours.”

You tried denying, “No, I don’t want him—!” Quickly being cut of by Jisung once more.

“And he’s a really great kisser—”

“Jisung, shut the fuck up!” You hanged up in embarrassment, throwing your phone away in a state of panic. Why would he tell you that? As if you needed to be more careful around Minho now that you knew these things about him. God, how did he expect you to continue living with this knowledge? Unlike Jisung, you saw Minho everyday of the week.

The door to your bedroom suddenly opened, “Are you okay? I heard a thud.” Minho was still in his work attire, a tad bit sweaty from the heated summer air, the first two buttons of his shirt were left undone. Solely from the condition of his appearance was in, you were mentally restraining yourself.

“Did you just came back?” You asked, begging that he didn’t heard your conversation with Jisung on the phone a few minutes ago.

He replied shortly, “Yeah, I’ll go shower now so we can eat.” Closing your door as he left without another word, left silently with knowing what you said earlier. He heard enough of your phone call, you were too caught up with talking that you didn’t hear the front door open. Minho was halfway across the hall to his room when he heard you shouted, his name fell out from your mouth as clear as day.

Oh, Jisung never told you that he and Minho were a thing? Now it was kind of awkward for the both of you. But if you wanted him, he wanted you too. He saw the way you would look at him, stealing glances from across the table. He was a very attractive guy, you were sure he wholeheartedly knew this, and he used it to his advantage.

Coming out of a cold shower, his hair was wet and dripping water down his back and shoulders, but at least have some respect for you by covering up his entire bare torso. At the dinner table? Was he going to be half-naked for the whole duration of dinner? He wanted you dead, you boldly claimed.

“So…how was work?” You opened up a topic, hoping he would start talking to fill the silence that was ongoing between the two of you.

Minho let out a chuckle, "Not fun." Handing you a pair of chopsticks and a ceramic bowl. That was understandable, he did looked quite worn out coming home after work.

"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking." You raised a question into his occupation.

He began picking up food from the many plates into his bowl, the wondrous scent controlled his chopsticks faster than his mind. Minho answered while pouring the meat broth over his rice, "I'm an accountant."

An accountant? Was that a code word for sex workers? No one in their right mind would go into accounting. Minho out of all people, worked as an accountant? You had no negative comments on his intelligences, or his work ethics. But accounting sounded so boring for someone as interesting as Minho, you thought what he said was a joke of some sort. Maybe he had a side hustle doing unconventional and dirty jobs.

"It's not fun, but I got bills to pay." Minho joked to lighten up the mood, filling in the empty pauses with yours and his joyful laughs.

He shook his head in a subtle yet prominent dissappointment, smiling to hide his actual emotion on his feeling of unfulfillment. "I wish I became a singer back then."

What he said piqued your interest, you looked up at him with a spark of excitement. Straight into his eyes, you asked. "You sing?"

His vocals was almost professional singer level, for a first in the short timespan of knowing him, you saw such happiness on his face. Holding the microphone as he sang you a love song, the amount of money you spent on that karaoke machine paid off. Minho wasn't wrong or thought too highly of himself when he said he should had became a singer, you would have said the same thing if you knew him sooner. And if he did, you would support him with your all.

The atmosphere got a bit hotter and hotter as the night went on, with alcohol entering the table as an uninvited guest. When a sensual song came on, the mood totally changed for better or worse. His loose t-shirt was showing some skin, it was too a little short as it was showing peeks of his toned stomach underneath. Your mind was going places, wether it was because of the alcohol getting you tipsy or it was your inner desires for intimacy.

Minho did not broke eyes-contact with you, in a hushed voice, stating that you were the only beauty he would keep in his sight tonight. Gently holding your hand in his, he placed it on his chest. Did you feel it? Under the warm and shaking palm of yours. His heart beating at a tiny bit quicker pace than usual, beating for you with all of these temptations in him.

"Minho, I should go to bed now, it's getting awfully late." You told, diverting away in a flustered mess. Yet, despite your attempt at diluting the air, Minho persuasion didn't seem to back down. Too heated, too close as you could now smell his liquor-laced breath.

Eyes half-lidded which made his desires just the more prominent, he was serious with no control. Before your lips could touch one another, a loud vibration emerged abruptly that pulled both of you out of that drunken trance.

Blindly grabbing for your phone, your eyelids were giving up as each minute continued to pass by. You didn't look at the contact name, the alcohol was taking over your system like a pernicious poison. A voice echoed out from your phone speaker, it took you a few seconds to register the other line’s speaking and its distinct frequency.

“Where is your report?! [Y/N], you are driving me crazy with your constant delays!” They roared at you, annoyed and angered.

You got off from your place on the couch, walking away with your phone in hand as you used your last few excuses to save yourself. “Seungmin, it’s not really a good time right now, can I call you back?”

Seeing you caught up with work on the line, he figured he would clean up this mess you two made on the coffee table for you. For a moment, he thought you felt it too. He might had read the room wrong, but the way you tried to avert from the situation felt almost like a reassurance for him. As if you wanted to go further with him, go little deeper, but you were unsure if he was onboard as well. He thought of apologizing, after you sober up more than the state you were in at the moment.

You swore, you couldn't remember anything from the night before. Went to bed at nearly one in the morning, woke up head-empty and half of the blankets and pillows were off your bed. Come on, you could confidently say that you did not exceed your limit. Yet as shown this morning, you had a rough night yesterday with the leftover liquor running through your veins.

You were absolutely dumb-founded when he said he was sorry for what happened last night, as if you remembered everything clearly to its very details. Let's see, you ate dinner, you talked, sang a couple songs out of boredom you assumed, then it all when foggy after that.

"What are you on about? I have no idea of whatever the hell you are apologizing for." Telling him straight up, you could not register anything he was saying to make any sense.

Frustrated, and a bit taken over by the shame from yesterday. "No, it's okay, you're better off not knowing anyway. Sorry for making a scene so early in the morning."

Minho finished the few last sips of his Americano, grabbing his laptop bag from under the dining table in a hurry. "I have to go now, see you again at six." He bid goodbye at the front door.

Before he go for the next ten hours, you told him tonight's plan. "I have a few friends over tonight, if you don't mind their companies."

"How many are coming?" Minho asked.

You tilted your head as you tried to remind yourself of the size of your party, maybe even the identities of your guests as well. "Just three. Jisung is going to be there too, if you want to see him."

You could forget anything, anything that you deemed important. But one thing that you couldn't seem to shake off your mind, as it has been bugging you ever since you knew of it, was the bygone romance Minho had with your best friend—happened to be Jisung. Now that you were non-actively trying to persue the guy, it left a bittersweet taste in your mouth. Though Jisung had affirmed that the past was in the past, you could court his ex-boyfriend all you want.

Minho looked down, "We'll talk later, okay? I'm late for work." Leaving things unfinished between you, he closed the door as he left.

You didn't work until around noon, you could work from home if you wanted, yet you still came into the office everyday since things moved faster with you being physically there. But after that call from Seungmin—head of your department, you were already considered brave for the mere thought of showing up. Despite how nice Seungmin actually was, his anger was incomparable to anything you had ever seen.

After your short shift, you went back home to get things prepare. On the way home, you had already picked up a few ingredients. Said ingredients were just a six-pack of cold beers and Gochujang sauce for the beef. The others wouldn't come for another hour, for the time being, you would have to get everything ready by yourself.

Pray to god that the table grill was still working today since you haven't brought it out for a good few years now, it was collecting dust in the very far back of your cupboard. The hangout had been planned for a little while already, you got most of the things a day or two prior.

Was Minho going to join you? His expression carried a bit of hesitation when you asked this morning, though you would be happy to have him if he did changed his mind. The more the merrier!

Hyunjin and Jisung came over just a tiny bit earlier than Felix, guessed he was caught up with some baking for desert. You and your friends were all gathered up together at the dining table, it felt crowded by how small of a space you had to eat for four people. Happy that Hyunjin’s beer wasn’t on the floor since it was standing so confidently at the edge.

“When is Minho coming home?” Jisung suddenly turned to you.

“I don’t know, usually he would be back by now.” You shrugged, just now noticing today’s abnormalities. Maybe something came up at the office, or he had something else he needed to do beside from work matter. Whatever it was, you just hoped he would get home safety.

Speak of the devil, not even ten minutes had passed and the front door softly rang of clicking keys. You came to open the door for Minho, meeting his slightly stunned expression. His glossy tired eyes under the dirty frames of his glasses gazed back at you, his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead as if he ran his way home. God, he looked rough, but so strangely enticing at the same time.

"Hey, we were just talking about you!" You beamed.

"Sorry, I'm late. My digital files got corrupted, so I had to get I.T to check that bitch out." Minho sighed deeply, you could imagine how long it took to resolve it purely from how worn out he presented.

The others greeted him at the dining table, getting a stool for him to sit since you were out of chairs. Minho was sandwiched between you and Hyunjin, one he knew, one he didn’t. He felt the tiniest bit uncomfortable sitting in such a tight spot, especially when yours and his thighs were rubbing against each other. He didn’t mind it too much, he liked you anyways.

“Ah, Minho! This is Hyunjin, and that’s Felix, they’re my college friends.” You introduced. Though he was a year older, they treated him with a casual formality. Felt more like meeting old friends than new people, your group broke the ice a lot quicker than he had previously expected. Soon you all were drinking and chatting, learning a bit too much about each other for the first meeting.

Felix tapped out, “No more, I’m driving tonight.” With Jisung following along as most had already decided to stop drinking, including you.

You placed your hand on the shoulder of the person next to you, “Are you still going? Damn, you must know how to handle your liquor.”

Minho stared back at you as you spoke to him, his eyes half-lidded like the night before. The first few buttons were unfastened, his bare and defined chest laid underneath the thin fabric. A sheer cast of sweat made his body glistened by the overhead light, his glasses was slowly slipping off his nose bridge which reflected the sweat even more than it should have. His face was flushed red and pink everywhere, flushed from a love confession of a drunken mind. Any minute now, he might just be making out with you.

His heart and guts was burning up with these carnal desires, if your friends weren't here, you could bet he would be fucking your brains out like how you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted you just as much, so shamelessly wanted you.

Minho leaned in suddenly, his lips and hot intoxicated breath lingered your ears. Whispered gently with his mellow, sleepy tone of voice, "When are they leaving?"

“We’re just going to have some tea and brownies, they’ll be on their way soon. Why do you ask?” You returned, asking in with a bit of hesitation in the back of you mind. Could it be he was overloaded enough, or did he not like your friends? You doubted the second one, since they had so much fun together. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen.

He didn’t further elaborate, ending the subject then and there with no other explanation. His intentions were unclear, as if he was hiding something from you but you couldn’t figure out what it was. Hopefully not something shady, or would leave you with a bad image of Minho. Keep it simple, he was probably tired and he needed a bit more peace and quiet. And he couldn't get any peace and quiet if your friends were here, right?

You wanted him to take off his shirt, take every single piece of fabric on his body off, let you admire all of his grace and beauty. Occupied with drooling over your housemate, the teapot seemed to had slipped your mind.

"Fuck!" Yelped you, the heat of the hot tea finally burned your skin.

Hearing pain from your voice, Minho and the others were already there to aid you. Especially Minho, he grabbed your hand into his as soon as he noticed. Luckily for you, the injury was minor and running it through cool water was good enough.

Minho really has you in a chokehold, metaphorically speaking obviously—unless. If you two did become a thing, would it be a little awkward? Maybe not for Jisung, but you were unsure of how or what to think in a situation like this. Though, despite how much you might try to push the idea away due to having quite a lot of repect for your best friend, you couldn't help yourself.

Seduction existed in his eyes and body language, it was subtle yet effective. An absolute disaster that the two of you also lived together, which pumped you up with an amount of hormone that a high-school student would have.

The way he dressed may be ordinary, office worker fashion. His shoulders flexing in his fitted button-up, straight dress pant hugging his thighs. His thick frame glasses further accentuated his winsome features. There was no exaggeration that he, for a definite, has a lot of admirers from work. You too, would be weak on your knees if Minho was your colleague.

It was around eight o’ clock by the time you finished up, which wasn’t late—at least to your definition—but tomorrow was still a work day. Especially for Hyunjin, who was flying out of the country for a business trip, of which it was crucial for him to leave early morning for his flight.

“I’m catching a cab home.” Jisung answered when you asked him how he was going to get home without a car, since the other two already left on their separate ways.

“No, I’ll drive you home.” You offered kindly.

“You drank a lot tonight, you really shouldn’t be driving, [Y/N].” Jisung denied, pointing out the slight alcoholic haze you were in. He wasn’t wrong, you were a literally beast with the bottle. However, you were awake enough to still talk normally and sort of think, like being half asleep.

Reassuring you that he would be fine on his own, and that he would be sure to text you when he arrived at his place. You knew Jisung for too long for you to be worried about him on trivial things, it simply felt like the right thing or a common habitual saying you had going on. You just wanted to take extra precautions since you both had been drinking the whole night, and there were quite a lot of problems existing because of it.

"Don't worry about me too much," Jisung soothed you once more. However he had no regards for what a sentimental moment that was happening between the two of you, immediately back to his ways of joking to dilute the air. "You should be worrying about if Minho can keep his dick in his pants near you."

You smacked him on his shoulder, "Shut up, he's right over there!"

"I mean...I see the way y'all look at each other, we all know, [Y/N]." He commented, giving you a playful look. You wanted to murder Jisung, and you would make it look like an accident too. Were you being that obvious about your feelings? But the way Minho acted around you didn't help too!

Jisung waved goodbye to you and to Minho—who was in the kitchen, washing up dishes and shot glasses. "I'll see you on Saturday for coffee if you can even get out of bed, bye!"

Nodding, as you watched him walk away from your apartment to the main elevator, realization hit later than expected. You yelled out in annoyance but Jisung would definitely laughed it off and ignore you. "Hey, we're not fucking!"

You had to stay up to finish a few reports and lone documents, so that meant you wouldn't be able to see Minho during his morning coffee. Coming over to offer another hand in cleaning up, it wasn't a big mess but was a mess nonetheless. You might take care of everything for Minho to get some well-deserved rest that he has been needing.

Minho turned around as he felt a tap on his shoulder, "Let me take it from here, you should be getting ready for bed by now."

"No, I'll help." Minho single-mindedly refused your offer. "And too, I can't sleep with this raging boner you gave me."

Too sudden, too out of nowhere, your neck snapped to him when you heard him said those words. His expression was neutral, as natural as if he had said and had done nothing wrong. Still washing dishes and bowls, scrubbing and rinsing like he has been doing the same thing for years. Did he heard himself at least, or was it a thought that went loose.

"Oh, sorry." What the fuck were you supposed to reply to that? Thank you? Was that a compliment in disguise of some sort? Feuling the fire even more, the desires becoming stronger and intense, he had agreed to throw away his principles already.

Minho inched closer to you, his eyes on yours as he asked nicely for attention. "If I tell you that I want to fuck you right here right now, would you be mad?"

Face flushed, hot as when you would place your hand on your tea cup to check the temperature. He was evil, disregarding your state of mental stability by saying things of the same kind so out of pocket. He, for a fact, waited for the right time to confess his sins. The kettle was boiling all night, the heat and steams were his deepest thoughts.

You turned off the sink, your hands cool and wet and smell of dish soap from the water. For a split moment, you were solely looking at each other, begging either one to make a move. Minho leaned in towards your direction, his bare forearms brushed gently against yours. The alcohol in both of your bodies made the moment all the more intimate, slowly yet steadily closing your distance between each other, breaking down the wall of sexual tension you had unconsciously built that stood with all its might.

The faint taste of his strawberry chapstick on your tongue, his lips was a little sticky but so soft that you didn’t quite mind. There was no way of stopping him, as you too, did not want to stop the thrill ride that was ongoing. Letting out heavy breaths as he sucked dark red marks onto your skin, lips painting your blank canvas. May he be the only alcohol you would get drunk on, let you drink him up like your sorrows and distress.

“Oh, Minho.” You breathed, moaning out his name as his hands rushing to take off your pants. Hot tongue making a line on your stomach down to your sex, freely as his mouth worked on you like how you dearly enjoyed his food. Both your legs resting on his broad shoulders just did nothing but helped spread you wider.

Your sweet voice singing out to encourage him, using his tongue in all directions that favoured you. Stomach knotting with alcohol and dinner and a heaven he had created for you, coming onto his lips, a result of prolonged temptations.

Every fabric that touched yours and his bodies that day were all scattered on the floor by second round. Never even seen your best friend naked, and here you were admiring his ex-boyfriend’s entire unclothed figure with no ounce of shame left in yourself. You could not keep your hands away from him, so greedily touching him in different places.

Neither could wait any longer, deciding to lay each other’s pride out on the dining table. Minho placed his lips on yours, closing his eyes yet still seeing the vivid image of you in his dark mind. With each passing second, his cock making its way into the very depths of you. You hugged him quite tightly, as if you haven’t scored anyone in a while.

Your eyes told him everything he needed to know, you body twitching and squirming under his embrace, the silent language that told him every one of your secrets. Thrusting faster and harder, wanting to hear you make some more music for his aching soul. Minho grabbed your legs, pushing them against your torso as his cock went deeper into you. You could barely keep your eyes open, or could you stay present with him. This pleasure felt like a dream, a dream that softly pulled you in.

Minho kissed your lips once again, “Baby, don’t sleep on me, I’m not done with you just yet.”

But as much confidence that he may has in him, he was nearing his high and coming apart for you along the way. Minho’s vocals were heavenly when he sang for you, and were just as heavenly when he came into you. He kept going despite being out of breath and tired for you, he started something and he was going to finish it.

Second time felt much more powerful than the first, almost like he gave his all. You could feel his seeds dripping out from inside of you, onto the dining table and even the chairs. Dirtying everything all over again, now you had more cleaning to add onto your list. Guessed neither of you were going to get any sleep tonight.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

What Was I Made For?

Summary: Leon, a bodyguard assigned to watch and protect his client, confesses his feelings for the reader. Although he knew he shouldn’t be involved in a relationship with his client, he still reaches out for you.

Warning: fluff/comfort. smut. afab reader. bodyguard!leon x female!reader. oral (f receiving), missionary, slight age gap (Leon is 27 and reader is 21+) loss of virginity. protected sex. CONSENTED. not proofread lol.

A/N: i got inspired by multiple things; jo and laurie, pride and prejudice, i love you and what was i made for by billie eilish. i wanted to try and write a romance so pure that it makes people cry. I think this is my cheesiest work so far.

“I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century, to repeat to you once again my vow of eternal fidelity and everlasting love.” - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Your father had hired a bodyguard to protect you while he was away. He loved you, like any father would, but his work seemingly came first. Not that you had any word in it anyway. It seemed that most of the choices he made for you were clearly out his heart and not out malice.

But when the tall, muscular, blonde man entered your own house, you couldn't help but feel a little angry. Not at the stranger, he was just hired to do his job, you were mostly mad at your dad for even thinking you didn't have what it takes to defend yourself. You hated feeling small and be seen as weak but again, there was nothing you could about it except take it.

Leon was his name, Leon Scott Kennedy. He's quiet, blunt, and always had a serious expression on his face. You couldn't read him- no one could, really. It was a little unsettling but overtime you grew closer to him.

He'd help you out when you needed a ride, he would reach the highest shelf when you wanted something from the pantry; he was a man you can depend on. And he, too, grew to care about you.

What you didn’t know was that every time he saw you or was with you, his heart would skip a beat. His entire being would feel like that satisfying part of a song; the bridge or the chorus or whichever part it may be. He felt complete, but he also felt empty. For how could a girl like you love him like he loved you?

Fear. He was scared, scared that you might push him away and abandon him like everyone has. That he’d have to fetch for himself again and live in solitude until his job required him to be sent away.

And so he buried these feelings deep down. He promised to himself that in order to not get hurt, he’d tough it out. That he won’t soften on you; he promised himself to stay a strong man and not let the wild emotions in his heart deter him from doing his job. And that’s what he did. Feelings were deeper than six feet, never to be resurfaced again.

Tonight was rough for you, so you found yourself in a bar. You didn't tell Leon, why should he know about this? He'd run off and tell your father about you drinking and getting with some random guy.

So, you turned off your location and put your phone on 'Do Not Disturb.' You needed an escape, a break from current reality. And what better way than to spend it on drinking away.

But you couldn't get one drink in without him bursting through the doors of the bar. His eyes landed on you, and he dashed towards you, "What are you doing here?"

His fingers wrapped around your wrist before the cup of liquor could touch your lips. You furrowed your brows and stared at his scowl, he looked beyond pissed. You knew he had every right to feel that way but at the same time, you desperately wanted to be away for a while.

"How did you find me?" you asked him.

"I'm a government agent, Y/n. I have my ways," He replied as he took your glass and put it back down on the bar table, "C'mon, let's get you home."

He pulled you up by gently taking your forearm, he guided the two of you out and away from the bar.

“No, Leon, I don’t want to go home. I want-“

“I don’t care what you want, this isn’t safe for you. I will take you back whether you like it or not,” he quickly turned to look you. He was mad and his face was not hiding it.

With a sigh, you reluctantly let him take you away. He ended taking you both to his apartment as your place was quite literally one hour away and it was dead in the night.

“What were you thinking?” He seethed through gritted teeth, “What if something had happened to you, huh? Were you just planning on getting drunk? How would you have gotten back home if I didn’t get there?”

You were currently sitting down on his couch, wearing his clothes that he let you borrow since you didn’t feel comfortable in the dress you were wearing. Right now, he was going through one of his heated lectures where it made you feel like a child. Curse him and his authorative voice.

“What were you even doing there? That’s not a place you belong and you know it,” he stood in front of you as he glared down at you.

“I don’t know, I needed a break,” you mumbled.

Leon scoffed and deepened his furrowed brows, “A break? From what? What could possibly make you want to go to one of the most dangerous place a woman could ever be in. Don’t you ever think about your safety? What if a man had taken advantage of you and you’d gone missing by tomorrow morning?” Leon sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he paced around his living room.

His apartment was nice- small but cozy. It was very him, in a way. Minimal decor with blank walls, devoid of any pictures. He never takes pictures and you realized this a long time ago when he’d gaze at the walls in your house, staring at your pictures when you were young. He liked them but he also felt jealous. Leon didn’t have these pictures. But he did have memories he wished he could keep forever.

He was beyond stressed for you. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if anything had happened to you. As these thought ran through his mind, he couldn’t help but feel a small tug at the string in his heart. Something he knew all too well. A feeling he’s been keeping locked away seemed to be coming back at the wrong time.

“Leon, give me a break. I just wanted to have some fun,” you mumbled as you looked at him pace back and forth like a madman. You knew he was concerned for you, but was that really it? Just concern?

“Fun? Your idea of fun is getting drunk and have creeps around you? Bullshit, Y/n. Bullshit,” he quickly retaliated.

“What was the real reason? And don’t lie to me, I can tell when you’re lying,” he grumbled and stopped pacing to look back at you.

You sighed, “I… I wanted to be cool. All my friends have gone out and had fun but not me. I’m always cooped up like a prisoner. When am I going to have my fun?”

His eyes softened slightly, very slightly, but he was still scowling at you. Do not break, is what he repeatedly told himself.

“Leon, I’m an adult. I want to make stupid decisions. I want to get drunk and have sex with random strangers,” you looked down at your hands playing with the drawstrings of the sweatpants you were wearing, “I wanted to get drunk and… lose my virginity,” you whispered.

He stood frozen in place, but then he sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, “Jesus Christ, Y/n… you’re-“

He looked at you exasperatedly, “You’re way too young to be going out and drinking with random guys— especially like this.” He leaned over you, placing his hands on the couch armrests on either side of your body before continuing. “God, I could smack you right now for being so stupid.”

He obviously didn’t mean it but he couldn’t help it. You worried him, you made him want to act irrational every time something bad was threatening you.

Your eyes slightly widened from how close he got but you weren’t complaining, “Too young?” You repeated in a whisper. You furrowed your brows and leaned closer to his face, “I’m not being stupid. It’s embarrassing being a virgin at this age. When did you lose your virginity, huh?” You quickly instigated.

“At 21,” Leon replied, his scowl lessening as he noticed that you leaned in closer. “And I was sober, too.”

His eyes remained fixated on your eyes and he stared deeply into them, “You are still too young though. That’s what I’m trying to say. When someone tells you, live your life, they don’t literally mean being in the center of danger."

You groaned and leaned back against the couch, seemingly frustrated, “I’m an adult, Leon.”

You rubbed your eyes and then looked at him, “All my friends have had sex before and I’m still seen like a fucking nun. At least you lost your virginity, who knows when I’m going to lose it,” you grumbled and crossed your arms over your chest.

He was quiet for a bit. He paced around some more before speaking again with a stern tone. "Just because you're an adult-- barely, I might add-- doesn't mean you know everything. Hell, you're still a virgin for a reason."

He sat down on the couch next to you as he tried to think of what else to say. Leon sighed and leaned forward, his elbows now resting on his knees as he looked back at you, "I can just picture it if you do go home with some guy."

Leon puts his hands back to the armrests, "Idiot pulls your pants down, gets on top of you and finishes in two seconds-"

“But at least I’ll get fucked, right?” You interjected and looked away, “It’ll be nice if someone did that, except the finishing quickly- obviously.”

“I mean- that’s gotta be an exaggeration too, right? Who finishes in two seconds?” You mumbled and looked back at him.

Leon sighs, his gaze softening slightly. He opens his mouth to say something before stopping and closing it again, “Jesus…” He takes a deep breath before speaking again. “No, it’s really not an exaggeration. There are a good number of guys who think that they’re in a movie when they’re with a girl like you. And then—“

Leon leans in close to you and grabs your arm, “You’ll hate yourself if you lose your virginity this way.”

You looked at his eyes and then sighed, “So what should I do? Be the only one who hasn’t slept with anyone before? I haven’t even kissed anyone and that is embarrassing. Everyone’s kissed someone before but not me,” you muttered.

You didn’t mind him grabbing your arm, you didn’t even notice it since you were too deep into the conversation. Why did he care anyway? It’s not like he’s going to tell your dad about this, is he?

He wouldn’t. You and him both knew he wouldn’t betray you like that. Because you both knew that deep down, feelings were there. Feelings that made the two of you act exactly like this. Like kids fighting.

“I know I’m still young but c’mon… you know kids my age have done things… I don’t want to be left out, you whispered.

“Goddamnit..” Leon groaned and grabbed the other arm, holding them in both of his huge, calloused hands, “Stop being so damn self-conscious.” He glared down at you, the intensity of his eyes nearly causing your heart rate to spike a bit.

“And stop thinking about other people. You’re young and you’ve already lost the most important one…” Leon leans in even closer to you, almost so close that your noses are touching.

You furrowed your brows confused, “I have?” You muttered, “I haven’t…” your voice trailed off as you tried to look away but you couldn’t. His blue eyes were piercing right through your eyes as both your noses were so close to touching.

He stared at you in silence, his nostrils flaring from his deep breathing. Then, without warning, he kissed you firmly on the lips, his lips meeting yours for a few solid seconds. Freezing as you felt his lips on yours, not realizing what he was doing, but then you melted. Your heart was beating so fast but you didn’t protest. You closed your eyes for those few seconds and when he pulled back you looked at him with a dazed look. He sighed and took a deep breath before speaking again, “Idiot.”

“Why… you…” you stuttered as you tried to think of something to say. Your cheeks were coated pink as you licked your lips, still tasting his lips on your lips.

Leon leaned back and glanced at you. His face was flushed, but his expression was nothing but a mix of pure tenderness and soft longing. He rubbed his thumb against the side of your cheek and looked down into your eyes before speaking in a tender, whispery voice,

“Because you won’t listen, you know you’ll regret it if you do something like that with some guy, and I didn’t want that to happen to you.”

His heart was beating out of his chest, he couldn’t believe he’d just done that but he didn’t regret it. If he could have a little bit of you, he’d take it with him to his grave.

“So… you did it instead…” you mumbled as you looked at him with big eyes. Your pupils were dilated as you stared at his eyes and then down at his lips. Then your eyes shifted back to his blue eyes again. It was unbelievable that he took it upon himself to give you your first kiss. And it left you wanting more. But was that allowed?

He looked down at your lips for a moment before looking back up. He noticed your wide, glazed over eyes, the rapid breathing, and how your cheeks were coated in pink. He noticed everything about you in this moment.

He leaned back in, close enough to be right in front of your face. Then, he placed his hand back on the side of your cheek and pulled you in for a second kiss, “I’d rather it be me instead of some guy who’ll probably just abandon you the moment they finish.”

His second kiss made you melt, you closed your eyes and brought your hand to the back of his head as you moved to straddle his lap. Once he pulled back, you looked at him, “Does that mean… you’ll take my virginity too?” You asked quietly. The question made you nervous but you still had to know if he’d do everything you just mentioned.

Leon had to take a deep breath in and out as he was getting ahead of himself here. He was barely holding back in his own eyes, and you could tell that he wanted to do so many things to you in just this moment.

But his answer was a slow nod, “Yes… I will.”

To which you could only respond with kissing him again. He grabbed your hips as you straddled him, taking you in one of his arms while you leaned down for the kiss. He moaned softly as your lips met once again for another long moment. He sighed slowly once you pulled away, leaning you back against his arm, “God, do you know how tempting it is to just carry you to my room right now and do everything to you?”

“Please do it,” you whispered as you looked down at him, your chest panting. You wanted him to absolutely wreck you. To make your first time unforgettable.

He groaned deeply at your words and lifted you off of his arm. He then picked you up, carrying you in his arms as he walked into the hall. Leon carried you into his room, and then gently laid you down on his bed, climbing on top of you and pinning you down once he did.

There were many things Leon expected in his life but none of them ever led to this moment. Sure, he’d be fine with kissing you and then pulling away to keep you safe. But that’s not what you wanted either. His heart kept pulling and pulling but he tried so hard to fight it. He tried not to fall too deep. Keyword tried.

Leon looked down at you as you lay there with your hair sprawled out and your legs spread open. Your blushing cheeks paired with your wide, dreamy eyeballs made it easy for him to feel something deep in his gut. He leaned down to your neck and began to kiss and bite it, “You have no idea about the things you make me feel.”

You closed your eyes and rolled your head back to give him more space to keep giving you hickeys on your neck. Your hands wrapped around the back of his head, gently tugging at his hair. You bit down on your bottom lip to try and suppress moans and whimpers daring to leave your throat.

“Leon,” you moaned softly as he kissed and bit your neck.

He couldn’t help it. When you tugged at his hair, his eyes rolled back for a moment from how good it felt. When you moaned his name, he had to bite your neck one last time before leaning back on his knees and taking off his shirt.

His muscly body was on display as he unbuttoned his fly and took his pants off, going back on top of you to pin you down against the bed again, “God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

He remained in his boxer-briefs and you couldn’t help but just stare at the hot man on top of you. Heart palpitations increased as you noticed the look he had on his face- pure lust and… love?

“Me too,” you whispered as you also hastily took off your shirt and sweatpants, tossing them away to God knows where.

You both seemed to have been wanting this. It would be a lie if chemistry didn’t exist between the two of you, but it was something that was kept away and ignored. There were so many things that go against the two of you and yet, you both have found yourselves in this moment. Entangled by the strings of both of your hearts pulling you together as one puzzle piece.

As soon as he saw you down to your bra and panties, it was enough for Leon’s blood to boil and he didn’t have the capacity to wait any longer. He pulled them off of you faster than you could react, leaving you completely naked on his bed. He grinned down at you, taking one of your hands and guiding it over his chest so you could feel his muscles.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, looking at you like you were his angel- his goddess. A siren that captured his heart.

Your cheeks got even more red as he guided your hand to his muscly chest, causing you to whine quietly.

His smirk grew and his eyes sparkled with mischief as they looked down at you. With one hand wrapped around yours and the other at the small of your back, he leaned down to softly bite your neck again.

This was the perfect moment for him, he felt like he could finally be closer to you. To finally feel you for the first time. A renaissance, a revival of the piece of art that was under him. The rebirth of happiness.

He paused for a moment and stared down at you before leaning in yet again, “Y/n…”

“God, just ruin me,” you whispered as he leaned down on your neck again to bite and kiss it. Pink and purple spots beginning to coat your delicate skin from the hickeys and love-bites. That man was desperate, deprived of love and you could tell by the way he was handling your body. It was like fire spreading through your body, the warm sensation running down your skin as he licked and nipped every crevice of your neck and collarbone. Marking you, claiming you, loving you.

He felt his entire body vibrate as those words left your lips. His eyes began to roll back one last time and he groaned lowly. Without waiting for another moment, Leon started to slowly move his head southward. He gently ran his hands along the side of your body as he kissed and bit your shoulders, chest, and then the top of your breasts.

“Leon,” you moaned softly as he began to kiss your breasts, feeling them become even more sensitive. Your nipples were hard from arousal to the point where they ached for more. Your hands wrapped around his head as your fingers interlaced with his blond hair, pulling him closer to your chest.

He was being gently encouraged to stay there. To continue to torture you. And he did. Once you tell a dog to stay, he stays. And god, he’d be a dog for you if you asked him to. To him, you were the warmth of the sun shining through his window.

To him, you were the reason he wakes up early in the morning.

To him, you were the reason why even bothered to stay.

To him, you were everything.

With one hand still holding yours, the other one moved to the side of your thigh to hold your leg in place. He kissed your chest again, this time with more intensity as his hands gripped your thigh even tighter. One hand slid up your thigh, slowly teasing the line of your underwear.

You both have longed for this. The unspoken words exchanged through glances said enough.

The way you spoke his name in a soft, breathy voice was enough to send a bolt of electricity through his body. He liked what he was doing to you, he really did.

He leaned in again, this time placing his mouth right on the line where his hand was. His fingers pulled your panties to the side as his eyes set on your wet cunt. He used his tongue to lightly brush back and forth, barely even teasing you. And then, without warning, he slid his fingers inside you.

You closed your eyes tightly shut and arched your back, “Leon!” You whimpered and moaned softly. It all felt so fulfilling.

His tongue, his hands- it all sent wave after wave of pleasure. Your hands gripped his bedsheets as you moaned his name like a prayer.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you breathed out.

You were so sweet and soft when you were at this state. That was something he loved about you. And when you were begging for him like this? It was enough for every part of him to get a little hot.

He slid his fingers in deeper, moving his fingers around a bit before curling them and moving them inside you. All while his mouth and tongue nipped at your clit.

He moaned softly as he did, still teasing you with his tongue. You tasted sweet. A sweet nectar that drove him over the edge. Well not really but he could. He could cum just now from how delicious your pussy tasted.

His tongue dragged along your wet folds, eliciting a shuddered moan from you. He loved your reactions, three way his touch affected you so much when he felt like he was doing nothing.

He’d do more if you let him into your heart, he thought.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out as he curled his fingers, “Leon,” you moaned softly in a whiny voice.

Leon’s body was twitching from all the noises you were spouting and the way your legs were squirming. It was a perfect mix of adorable and tantalizing in the best way possible.

He knew you were about to cum, given the fact your moans became more short and breathy. You merge began to twitch just a little and he had to grip your thighs to hold them down.

His fingers moved faster, his tongue moved quicker, but most importantly, the strength of his grasp on you and himself increased. He was close to losing himself at this point, ready to reach his peak at any moment.

“Leon!” You moaned a little too loud. Your back arched as your toes curled when you came on his face. His tongue and fingers made you feel like you reached heaven- nirvana too.

He moaned loudly as you released yourself against his face, grabbing onto your hips to keep you in place and prevent you from slipping away from him. But even so, he could taste and smell you on him, and the sight of such a pretty girl in this state turned him on infinitely more.

His blue eyes barely visible from his dilated pupils, his blonde hair shining from the light of his room, how your cum dripped down his face. But you couldn’t help but shift your focus to his lips. They were so much more plump than before and he had this look like he just struck gold.

At that moment, he pulled his hand out from between your legs and moved it to your shoulder, moving your leg and hand away from him.

He slowly sat up and leaned close to your ear again, “You taste so sweet I want to keep you all to myself,” he whispered.

You couldn’t believe you had my first orgasm from his tongue and fingers, you were left a panting mess. But that wasn’t the end. You looked up at him and kissed him as he was still on top of you. You could taste yourself on his lips and it caused you to moan just a little bit. And he groaned when you kissed him.

He broke the kiss off once more, breathing heavily and staring down at you. Your body was still covered in a slight glow from the orgasm you just had. His eyes were fixed on yours, his lips wet with your taste.

"God, I need you," he breathed in a low tone, staring back at your body.

“I need you too,” you whispered as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him down with you. Your lips finding his again and his hands immediately went to your waist.

He groaned deeply as he kissed you again, diving back into the heat of the moment as his body was filled with every emotion in the book.

He felt something in that moment though… he felt something he’s only felt a few times in his life, something that could really take him to the highest heights and then throw him down to the lowest depths.

“I love you,” he whispered softly as he breathed out, looking deeply in your eyes and staring at you with pure adoration.

His tone, his words, his eyes- he meant it. And you knew it.

Your eyes were full of pure adoration as well. In this moment you had realized that this time, you had fallen for him. You loved him too.

The stolen glances from when you were in the same room, when he’s had to help you out countless times, when he comforted you on your lowest days, and when he would make you the happiest by remembering your favorite things. He was more than just a bodyguard to you. He became your world.

“I love you too,” you whispered back. You stared deeply into his eyes as your fingers gently brushed away blonde strands of hair from his face.

His heart was beating rapidly as he took in every single touch and movement you made to him. From the strokes of your fingers, to your soft voice, to the stare of admiration in your eyes, to the way you spoke to his face.

He was all yours now, this girl who was his to protect and cherish until his last breath.

There was no hiding how much he loved you by the way his eyes looked at you. It was clear in this moment that his feelings for you were genuine and honest. He didn't like you just because you were pretty and cute. He loved you for all of who you were.

He could feel tears stinging the back of his eyes as he leaned in and kissed you lightly, "I'll protect you until the day I die," he told you, staring deeply into your eyes.

His body was trembling as his heart beat against his chest again from these words. This was a feeling he truly didn't deserve. How could this girl love someone like him so much?

Your words brought out the feelings in his heart that he so desperately wanted to keep hidden away. He took in every moment of this, the way your eyes looked at him and the way your delicate hands were touching his face.

He felt complete. The strings playing at his heart were in your mercy and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He pulled you in even tighter than he had ever done before. His hands were all over you as he kissed you repeatedly once more, his lips pressing against your own as your own taste filled his mouth once again.

He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want this moment to end.

He wanted to live in this moment forever.

He pulled away from you once more, looking straight down at your body with his blue eyes looking down at you, "You know, you're the first girl to ever really make me feel this way.” he muttered.

“Me too,” you whispered as you stared up at him with the same level of adoration and love.

No matter how many times you could deny it, you felt just the same as he did in this very moment. Your heart felt like it would combust at any moment from the fact that your feelings are being reciprocated. That you both felt the exactly same thing if not even more. And that was enough for you to want to be with him. Regardless of him being your bodyguard.

“I want you,” you whispered.

A warm feeling ran through his entire body after hearing these words. This was something he could never truly describe, a feeling that was so strong yet so light at the same time. The love coming from you was enough to give him an uncontrollable urge to make all of his fantasies and desires come true. He couldn't resist you anymore, not with this level of mutual love between the two.

"I want you too," he whispered back. "Just promise me one thing. Promise me that, no matter what happens, I'll never lose you."

“Say it,” he begged, “Promise me I’ll never lose you…” he begged in a whisper. It was a plea, he dreaded the idea of losing you. He wanted you forever. Just the mere thought of you being away from his arms was enough to make his heart shatter a bit.

He needed to hear you say it. To tell him everything was going to be okay and you’ll forever be his. Because at the end of the day, no matter how much shit he’s been through, he also dreams of having his true love by his side every time he wakes up.

“I promise,” you whispered, “I promise you’ll never lose me… if you let me have you.”

One simple sentence from your soft lips and he was ready to melt and fall at your feet. He was yours and you were his in that moment.

"You have me," was what he responded with, as he gently leaned in to kiss your neck and jaw again.

“And you have me,” you closed your eyes as you whispered to him. You wrapped your hands around his hair as your hips bucked against his

"I've always had you," he spoke in barely audible tone as it was filled with the sounds of wet kisses.

His hand slid down your side again, gently sliding underneath your hip to hold you in place as he began to bite your neck again. All of his attention was now on you, and there was no longer another thought in his mind.

You moaned softly at his kisses and touches, “Leon,” you breathed out as you tugged at his hair.

His breath hitched and he pulled back slowly, his blue eyes gazing down at you as you squirmed around under him. His lips were swollen from the heat of your kisses and his jaw was clenched tightly from the pure pleasure rushing down his body.

He sighed softly for a moment and his eyes trailed down to the dresser next to the bed. He picked up the condoms from the drawer, opened the pack and opened one of them, before looking back up at you.

As much as he’d love to do it raw, he would never hurt his baby. His girl. His darling. He wasn’t that kind of man. No… he’s better than that.

"I'll go slowly, okay?"

You nodded and stared as he opened the condom, “Yeah… I’m okay with that,” you reassured in a quiet voice, a small and shy smile tugging at your lips.

He felt something in his heart when seeing that small, shy smile. It hurt how cute you were. The way you said your words in that shy voice and the little smile, it all made his heart ache with happiness.

"You're so beautiful," he muttered softly before leaning in, "I hope this is everything you've thought it would be.”

With a lot of care and time, he pulled down his boxer-briefs and put the condom on. He made sure it was nice and snug. He hovered over you for a moment, his hands slowly moving to your waist and hip.

"Promise me you'll tell me if it hurts the first time, alright?” He whispered as he slowly shifted back over top of you, making sure he was positioned just right.

You nodded as you felt him position himself while being on top of you, “I will,” you reassured. Your hands found their way to his back as you embraced him.

He nodded back as he took a slow, steady breath in and out. He could feel your touch through his back, your hands slowly running along his back as he slowly entered you for the very first time.

You felt his cock slowly enter your cunt and it made you grip his shoulder blades as you closed your eyes.

He groaned softly as he sighed in relief, slowly pushing himself in until his pelvic made contact with you. He held himself in place and looked into your eyes for approval. To know that everything was okay before he’d start thrusting into you.

Your eyes closed tightly as your nails dig into his skin, he felt big or maybe you were tight, who knows. But it felt good. You opened your eyes and stared at him, giving him a nod that it didn’t hurt and everything was okay.

He sighed softly in relief, feeling the grip from your hands around his body tighten for a moment as his body relaxed from his slight worries.

"You feel amazing," was all he could muster out as he slowly and gentle began to rock back and forth, starting to move inside of you as he leaned back onto his knees again for support. As he began to thrust into you, your moans and his grunts echoed through his room as the bed gently creaked from his rocking.

The sight of you under him and the noises of your moans were enough to have his mind go blank from all of the thoughts.

His body was shaking as his heart thumped loudly in his chest. He felt the warmth of you around him and he couldn't think straight. He started to move in and out of you slowly, his grunts growing louder as time felt like it had stopped for the two of you.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs more firmly as his hands moved along your back again to have more of your body pressed up against his.

Your moans and his grunts were lost in his room as he began to move. The bed began to creak at his movements, slowly and gently slamming against the back wall. Your hands were gripping and scratching his back out of pleasure, it was a type of fulfillment that made you drunk on him. That made you addicted to everything about him. And you wanted to be selfish and keep him to yourself.

“Leon,” you moaned softly against his ear.

His breathing steadily got quicker as he leaned in closer to you. Your moans only fed the fire inside of him and made him move faster and harder. His lips were brushing and nibbling on your neck while he continued.

His back was arching as your nails dug deeper upon his skin. His breathing was quickening and he groan out your name, "Y/n..."

You were close to your second climax of the day, you felt like puddy or mush in his hands. His touch melted you into whatever he wanted- you wouldn’t even complain.

Your back arched and you pressed my breasts against his chest, “Leon,” you breathed out. Your moans began to get more airy and short.

He leaned down back to kiss you while he rocked faster and harder into you. He could feel the warmth of the room fill up with pure steam as sweat covered both of you. The kiss sloppy and wet, not even a real kiss since the two of you were moaning and grunting out of pleasure.

His grip tightened on you as he moaned your name again, his hands now grabbing onto yours and squeezing them tightly as his hips moved back and forth. His interlocked his hand with yours as he thrusted into you, his cock filling you. A sensation that drove you insane in the best way.

"Almost there," he whispered, his breathing growing heavy around you.

“Me too,” you whispered back as you closed your eyes and let him look down at your face. Your jaw slightly open as you moaned and whimpered.

He couldn’t help but stare at your face, he thought you looked beautiful like this. His eyes scanned every little detail about your face and body, wanting to remember this forever. If he could, he’d definitely have this moment hanged up on the wall of his apartment. A memory so important to him that he’d have no shame in showing you off. But he wouldn’t do that. You were his and he didn’t want anyone else but him to look at you like this.

Your walls were beginning to clump down on his cock. You were close to cumming for the second time today, which surprised you because you’ve never done this before.

Soon, you did climax on him while he kept going. Your body convulsed and fell limp under him as he chased his own high. Your eyes were half-lidded as you were overrun with that satisfied and happy feeling that came with the post-orgasm jitters.

He sighed deeply as he felt you throb around his cock. Your body shook and your head rolled back as the climax overwhelmed your body and flooded it with endorphins.

He groaned softly as he finally reached his climax, moaning out your name in such a heated tone. He was glad he was wearing a condom, but god did the thought of breeding ran through his head at least once.

He let loose with a loud groan as he came inside you, with the condom still on. His cock began to pulse inside of you as a surge of pleasure flooded his body with everything it ever needed.

He laid down on top of you, panting heavily as his sweat soaked body pressed up against you. His hands went back to their usual spot and laid against your hips as he breathed in sharply, his heart beat quickening even more.

"Oh God," he moaned, his eyes slowly closing in relief. He wanted to be inside you forever. You just felt so good. Too good, he’d say but he didn’t care. He wanted you. So. Much.

Your hands lazily drew circles on his back as you closed your eyes as well and let him fall on top of you. Letting out a deep sigh out of pleasure and relief, you couldn’t help but feel your heart also tug its strings.

“Thank you,” you whispered quietly. If you were asked who would’ve you wanted to have sex with, you’d only say Leon. He knows how to make you happy, he knows how to cheer you and make you feel this good. He knows you. Probably than you know yourself too.

He groaned softly as he heard those words, leaning a little back at you from his position. He leaned down to kiss you softly and gently, breathing in the scent of your hair as he looked into your eyes, his hair falling in front of his eyes, covering half of his face.

"You're welcome," he whispered back, his voice low, calm and soft as he laid back down on you with his face buried into your neck. He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist.

One thing he couldn't deny in this moment was how perfect this girl was to him. There was something about you that just made him feel complete, something that made everything in life just make sense.

"I love you," he whispered, his eyes still being closed.

“I love you too,” you whispered and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him too. Basking yourself under his weight and warmth- albeit the sweat sticking you two together.

Your breathing slowed down from panting. You felt exhausted but it was worth it. You both needed a shower but you were too lazy right now- you both were too lazy to even move an inch.

This moment was one that he would keep dear to himself for all time. The feel of your skin, the smell of you and the warmth of your body all made him feel home. His fingers were running through your hair, and his breathing was becoming more normal again in that moment.

"We probably need to shower soon," he muttered as he kissed your neck one last time.

“Two more minutes,” you whispered as you held on to him tighter.

He sighed softly into your neck as he lay his forehead against yours. His eyes still closed as he chuckled at your request.

"Fine, two minutes before we get up," he whispered as his breath was still soft against your skin.

You sighed contently and relaxed under him. There were many things to do; get rid of the used condom, take a shower, and do aftercare. But for now, all you needed was to be with him. To feel loved.

And so you did, spending those two extra minutes together. Your bodies were still tightly intertwined, his head pressing against your neck as he gave you little kisses every now and then.

But eventually, his eyes opened and you could hear him sigh again as he shifted his body to be on his side rather than on top of you.

“So… ready for that shower?” You turned your head to the side and as he moved next to you instead of being on top of you.

"Yeah, I think it's about time we finally do so," he sighed as he rolled off of the bed. He stretched his arms upwards and you could hear his back crack at the stretch.

"I’m sticky with sweat all over," he chuckled, grabbing the blanket and placing it over your body before standing up and walking to the bathroom.

You giggled, “Don’t forget the condom,” you teased as he was still wearing the now used condom. You pulled the blanket aside and walked over to him to the bathroom.

He stopped once he heard your teasing, his body freezing from his pace as he looked down between his legs. He groaned as his face turned scarlet from embarrassment, he slowly turned around as all of his cocky confidence disappeared in a single second.

He let loose a laugh and took it off before flicking it into the bin.

He looked back at you and smirked weakly, "I'm going to pretend that never happened."

You chuckled and walked into the bathroom first, “It’s okay, don’t get embarrassed. It happens to hot people,” you grinned as you pulled him to the bathroom by the hands.

"Yeah, whatever," was all he could mumble as he stepped into the bathroom, his arm moving to the sink to turn on the faucet. Although, his smirk and slight snort didn’t go unnoticed by you. It made you happy that you could still tease and have fun with him during these moments.

"I'd say something back but you're pretty hot yourself so I'm not going to talk," he grumbled.

He looked over the shower at you with a raised eyebrow. Leon leaned back against the sink for support and folded his arms over his chest, a small smirk appearing on his face as he was beginning to calm down from his embarrassment.

"Cold," he answered back, without hesitation.

Scrunching up your face, you shook your head disapprovingly, “Cold? Seriously? What, do you live in the North Pole or something?” You joked as you turned the temperature adjustment to cold like he said.

A single chuckle left his mouth as he glared at you, "Shut up," he frowned with a slight giggle, "Don't tell me you're one of those people that likes burning hot water during a shower?"

“Actually yes, I love hot and steamy showers that burn my skin,” you mumbled as you joined him on the cold shower. You wrapped your arms around your body as you shivered, “Holy shit, dude. This is freezing,” you muttered through chittering teeth.

He put his hand around your waist once again and pulled you closer to his body, his chest pressing against your back as he pulled you into his embrace. His body growing warmer than yours as his hand began to rub your stomach. His body heat slowly transferred over to yours.

He sighed quietly and turned the knob up, changing the temperature to a warm feeling, although still not hot. You could feel his hands still wrap around you as his one hand went down underneath your chin and pulled your head back so you'd look at him.

He cupped your face with his hand and brushed your hair back out of your face, "There, is that better?" he asked you as he smirked and looked at you.

“Actually it is,” you huffed and turned back to begin cleaning your body.

He smirked and began to clean himself as well. His eyes gazing at you as the hot water ran down his body. His eyes traveled around every inch of your body as he took a look at you, he couldn't help but feel like he was staring at an image of beauty as you began to bathe yourself.

He couldn’t help it, he wrapped his arms wrapped around your waist from the side as they pulled you back into his form. He couldn’t help it, he loved this sight a little too much. It was so innocent and yet so attractive to him. You could be doing the simplest thing and he’d love it.

He continued to watch you soap yourself up, his face having a hint of a dreamy look in his eyes. His gaze traced your entire body, taking in your curves and how beautiful you were to him as he breathed in deeply.

"You have a beautiful body, you know that," he whispered.

You chuckled and kept lathering yourself in soap, “You think so?” You whispered.

He smirked and nodded his head as he continued to trace you with his eyes, his gaze admiring every single part of your body.

"More than beautiful," he sighed as his eyes continued to wander across your form. He couldn't help but wonder how he had gotten this lucky to have someone as perfect as you in his life.

"The prettiest face I've ever seen too. You're like a goddess to me," he moaned. He put his head against the side of your neck and kissed it softly as his hands moved up and down your body.

"Every inch of you is perfect," he murmured, "I'd say you're even better than a dream."

One could tell he was so madly in love. He never felt love like this, not this strong. And he wanted more. You broke him in the best way possible.

This version of Leon became a version that he hid away and promised himself to never bring back. Yet, in all the time that he’s been your bodyguard, you’ve managed to make him break that promise. His feelings took hold of him, probably for the first time in a while. But this time, he decided not to fight it.

This time, he decided to stay true to himself and let himself be loved and love the one girl who dared enough to love his broken self.

And he couldn’t ask for anything better.

[undercoverpena]

can you ever really know?

Marcus Pike x F!Reader

summary: marcus hadn’t intended to meet someone, never mind begin seeing them.

word count: 3k warnings: smut, marcus eating you out on a table (f!recieving). dedication: this is a dual dedication, both to @perotovar who i adore and has spurned me on, and to @psychedelic-ink who whooped so hard when i said i wanted to write this, that i finished it for her 9k celebration

"Is this what we do then? Just two strangers who buy each other drinks?" Dipping his chin, he half-laughs, trying to see the scribbled name on your cup. "Well, we don't have to be strangers." "Oh, nice. Very smooth." "Too much?" Shaking your head, you turn the cup—allowing him to see your name. "No, I liked it." "Yeah?" Nodding, you begin grinning, before hiding it with a sip of your drink.

Marcus hadn’t intended to meet someone, never mind begin seeing them.

It was accidental. A chance encounter. An event that had wholly thrown him off his game as he stood in line at the coffee shop, soul prickly, from the day he was having.

On some level—the practical part of him, the one that deals in facts and statistics—he suspected it was why it was then you’d stepped into his world. Not even hovering in his peripheral, but front and centre in front of him in the queue. Your phone nervously tapping in your palm—eyes looking over your shoulder, not at him, but not through him.

You’d bought him his drink first. A pay it forward thing—or so he was told when he’d finally chosen his drink.

A gesture that stuck with him remained embedded somewhere in his head, rotting away.

Marcus never expected to see you again. The chances were slim, the odds so low it wasn’t worth thinking—but then he did. Same time, same place. 

You were in front of him again as he pulled open the heavy glass door and was confronted with the back of you he’d been trying not to think about in his downtime. This time, your attire was different, more casual—less ‘on the way to work’ and more out doing errands. But, unlike before, you kept your head down, barely even a sound over a whisper when you ordered your drink.

It etched a place in him that stuck around until the next time.

By then, he’d wrongly assumed that your timings matched his. But, when he walked into the coffee shop, his stomach fell to his feet—disappointment blooming where his organ once was because you weren’t there.

Typically ahead of him, arriving a few minutes before. 

Marcus trying to swallow back how frustrated he felt that he’d made progress, felt good, almost ready to even say a hello to you and then… you weren’t even here. His feet dragging, plastering on a smile as he walked up to the barista, shoulders sinking, until he heard the door open.

Somehow, before he even looked, he knew it was you. 

Your voice cut in over the distorted music, covering the cheap speaker and the grinding of beans as you said goodbye to whoever you spoke to on the phone. And he knew he had one chance—one.

So, Marcus bought you a coffee.

Quickly coming up with an excuse, a reason—if it went wrong, he’d say he was simply paying the kindness back. 

But you hadn’t asked him why. Instead, your reply was as bold as he wished he was.

It’s how he found himself across from you in the coffee shop, spending the remainder of that drink learning all he could—half-tempted to buy another so the two of you didn’t have to part.

Instead, he asked for the same time next week. Your smile stuck with him for the next six days and twenty-three hours until he could see you again. 

And it was better than the first.

“You going to ask me out, Marcus?”

Sipping his coffee, he licked his lips. “Thought I already did.”

Shrugging, you leaned closer. “Guess I’ll do it then. You fancy getting dinner with me?”

That’s how he found himself at a red tablecloth with a flickering candle. You sitting in a similar position as you had been in the coffee shop when you’d handed him your name on your cup, and he’d given you his with a shake of his hand—all careful, wrapped in softness, a sweet bow on the top perfectly positioned by a smile.

It going well—too well.

A part of him screaming to slow down, already feeling, already wanting—

“I need to tell you…”

Leaning over the table, you smile. “I knew it. You had to have a flaw—you don’t actually like coffee, do you?”

It happens slowly, and flows in stages: First, a smile, one which grows into a grin. Then, he laughs. Before finally, his body leans closer, fingers ghosting over, almost touching yours.

The part of him still wounded, sore, the only thing stopping him from taking your hand in his.

“No. I—I, um, have quite an unhealthy addition to that.”

Smirking, you glide your tongue across your lips, sliding your hand to your glass, eyes holding his—waiting, giving him the floor.

“I just wanted to tell you that I really like getting to know you.” Your face flickers, ever so slightly. Perfectly in time with the dancing candle, almost could be blamed on the trick of the light—but he isn’t anyone. He’s trained, all able to read people. “But, I… my last relationship didn’t end so well. And while I’m over it—over her—I... I don’t want to rush this.”

Your smile sweetens, lips rolling as you sigh, ever so softly. “I like getting to know you too, Marcus,” you reply, fingers sliding across the base of your glass—a smile, hanging so kindly on your face. “We can just… see what happens. Take it easy, like we have been.”

Beaming, he licks his lips. Slowly grinning—letting the words “see what happens” around on his tongue before he laughs. A gentle one, his hand running along his beard.

“Yeah. That’ll be… nice.”

Casual, you follow up with as his knee abuts yours under the table, watching as your chin rests on one of your hands, as the other scoops up your glass, smirking against it as you take a sip.

He felt it then, the sparkle—the crackle in the air.

His eyes could not tear themselves away from you—just like he hadn’t in the coffee shop. He was enamoured, fully taken in. Marcus hung off each word and studied each expression on your face. 

He blames that for the reason he finds himself pushing your back against your front door, the keys jingling in your hand, the evening very much far from over. His mouth on yours, searing, almost bruisingly kissing you.

It isn’t until your breath is ghosting over his, lips ever so close, his body flush with yours, that you speak, your eyes flicking from his to his lips and back again. “I thought you wanted to—”

“I’m seeing what happens…”

Your lips curl. “You sure you want to do that, Agent Pike?”

He has to swallow a moan. The way you let his name fall from your lips so velvety, makes his trousers even tighter. The hand on your waist tightens, clutching you more so, before his mouth spells all the words he wants to say against yours—kissing away any doubt that he doesn’t want this, you.

“Open the door,” he says, kissing it to your lips. “Please.” 

Thank fuck you do.

Guiding you in, walking you backwards. Hand sliding up to your cheek, wrist resting against your jaw as he traces his tongue over your bottom lip, easing you against a wall, hearing your door click shut—

“I just… I just need a minute,” you whisper. A hand on his chest, not pushing, but just there—fingers stroking his shirt, nodding. “Just one minute.”

Nodding, he gives you another kiss. Stepping back, brushing the strands of hair that had fallen from his forehead as you held up a finger, another sign of promise, just a minute, and he smiles, doing as you instruct when you tell him to get comfortable.

Your place is nice—cosy.

The windows are all tall and long, the sheer curtains barely able to put up much of a fight against the city’s lights. He suspects you chose it for the light. Something about you screams light and airy, easy and inviting—a thing which is embedded into everything you do. From the initial greeting to now.

The only light casting over your place is the one from the city—it illuminates your table, the one in the centre of the space, glass, pretty fabric chairs around it. No marks, not a single fingerprint. His mind quickly imagines you eating at it most mornings. The flirty text messages the two of you have been exchanging between the coffee date and tonight, all beginning here, until he joins you on your commute to work.

A thought, all dangerous and unwilling to go, pops up. There’s no pin able to burst it, not as it grows—it expanding, filling the expanse of his head and ridding him of all other thoughts—

“Nice table,” he announces, following the sound of you joining him.

Not needing sight to know where you are, already in tune with you—even if he’s told himself to slow down. To not fall as quickly, take his time—breathe.

“Oh, yeah? I-It’s new.”

His throat tightens, the thought pushing further against his skull—knowing if there were even a flicker from a candle, you’d be able to see how lustful his eyes were.

“How new?”

His question burns in the air. Sizzling. The air thickens. The only sound coming from a neighbour above walking around in what sounded like heels. But, all he’s focused on is that you’re beside him—shoulder against his arm, eyes forward, staring out at the view. As though you don’t get to marvel at it each day, as though you haven’t had your fill of it.

Not that he can blame you. He’s had plenty of chances to take you in—taking all he can get—and he still doesn’t feel he’s committed you all to memory.

“Barely eaten at it myself, never mind anyone else—if that answers your question.”

It does.

“We should change that.”

“Why? You hungry?” you ask, meeting his eyes—and he wonders if you can feel it then.

Wonders if you’ve caught on and can hear it rolling around his mind, banging around, nothing able to stop it.

Smirking, you must suddenly arrive at his way of thinking. Your body turns towards him, arm looping around his waist, as his hand cups your cheek.

“S’not too late to tell me to leave,” he whispers.

Your lips curl, but only smooth out into a smile. “I don’t want you anywhere else, Marcus.”

He’s quick, intent—crashing his mouth to yours so you know he feels the same. His other hand sliding around your waist, a groan emitting from your throat, travelling up and kissing his tongue.

And he can’t quiet the voice, the bubble that bounces from one side of his skull to the other. It’s why it escapes through a kiss, muffled, but not enough not to be discernible:

Get on the table, baby.

It’s branded into the air, burnt there. Hanging as your lips halt in their movements against his. Hand hovering, poised, eyes lashes opening to coat him in momentary confusion.

His lips slide into a smirk, your eyes flicking to it, before lifting back up. “Nice glass table like this,” he continues, voice low, husky, “Someone should eat at it.”

Watching as you swallow, your fingers brush against his cheek, against the beard on his cheek. “That so?”

Nodding, he presses a kiss to you. ”Yes,” he groans, nose butting yours. Briefly catching you shudder, “Think you can let me taste you on your nice table?”

Marcus takes the moan as a yes—takes the way you try to position yourself, as another.

His fingers move to your trousers, unbuttoning and unzipping with ease until they’re gliding down your legs, unveiling them inch by inch to him—lit up in the glow from the world outside. Sliding the fabric from your skin with ease, before he helps you, guiding you, positioning you like he would if he were making a table arrangement.

Your legs close, eyes looking at him through your lashes. 

Cupping your cheeks with his palms, he pulls your eyes to his.  “You okay?”

Nodding, rolling your lips. “Yeah… just like you, is all.” 

Fuck, you’re pretty. Beautiful. Stunning. More so when he aids you in removing your other clothes, leaving only the fabric between your thighs while he stares at you. Takes you in because—

You’re a wonder. A sight for sore eyes and an image that should be studied in a gallery. He’d thieve you, would abandon all of his morals and prize you from a wall, let your captured eyes solder holes into him forever.

But he doesn’t need to.

You’re already doing so without him having to do much. They leave a mark, scratching against him.

“I like you too. S’ why I wanna make you feel good, baby. Okay?” 

A hand drops, sliding over the fabric between your legs. Feeling it, how much you want this. Him. Tonight. He even hears it as you whimper before he teases your underwear down your legs—the little wet patch quickly caught by his gaze, before he throws them in a similar vein to your other clothes.

“Wanna taste you, baby. Want you to come against my tongue. Will you? Can I?”

His hand continues to clutch your cheek, thumbs swiping a line back and forth as his words register and your breath hitches. But your thighs part, all for him. One hand drops to your leg, fingers drawing shapes, teasing, climbing higher and higher until his other hand mirrors his on your other leg, basking in the way you stare at him, holding onto his sight with every teasing touch.

Not begging. Not asking.

Waiting, ever so patiently.

Perfect. Oh, so fucking perfect.

Sliding around the back of your thighs, his fingers dig, pressing little half-moons into the underside of you, as he parts your legs further—eyes dropping, marvelling, ever thankful for the glow so he can see the way you glisten, the way you need and want him, it all evidenced, able to be captured.

“So wet for me already.”

“Marcus,” you moan.

His name elongated, special. It hits the air—and his ears—in a way that licks heat up his spine. The flames smother his bones when he spreads you with a finger, it circling, coating up to the knuckle in your desire.

Then, he dives.

All tongue flat to your core as the sound of ‘oh fuck’ punches the air. A sound he wants to collect, and earn—licking a stripe before he spells letters against your bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking the tip as your nails grasp his hair.

You make sounds that make him feel holy, that could bring him to his goddamn knees. He wants to pull them all from you, more so when his name begins to join them—when you’re panting, pleading, please, Marcus, fuck right there, Marcus.

He grins against you, tasting and flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves that has your hips arching into his face. But Marcus continues, placing a hand on your stomach, pinning you down, giving and giving—

Then he pauses. Purposefully stops, just blowing a cool breath to earn a whimper.

Your eyes steam him. Narrowed, eyebrows dropped to shape them. Your breath ragged, body thrumming, vibrating with how close you were.

Shooting you another grin, he plunges his tongue inside you—relishing how your walls tighten around him. Enjoying the way you taste, the way your fingers have found a home in his hair, tugging and pulling, nails all against his scalp.

The air is smeared in gasps, moans. A chorus of his name. All of it falling into the air around him and you, becoming a song, all instrumental, rising to a crest, ready to crash.

Fuck, he wants nothing more. Marcus wants to be travelling home and still be able to taste how sweet you are, to hear the noises you make because they’re sliced somewhere in his brain.

“You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna make sure I can taste you when I’m in bed alone tonight.”

You whimper.

His tongue continues to lap, to take everything you’ll give him as he slides two fingers in. Your walls tightening, gripping him—all vice-like and needy. And Marcus is pleading, if only internally, for you to scorch him, singe and sear yourself into him.

“S-so close, M-Marcus—”

He knows. “I know. Let go for me. Be good for me.”

And you do.

You really fucking do.

He feels you tighten, and tense, before his tongue is flooded, your legs shake, and your toes curl. His movements continue, brutally guiding you over the edge, pushing and pushing until he feels you loosen your hold on his hair—trying to wiggle from his mouth.

Marcus isn’t sure he’s ever felt so good.

Positioning himself so he’s stood at full height, staring down at you, trying to capture your breath—lit up by the star-filled sky and sparkling city. You’re beautiful, he thinks for the billionth time tonight.

“You’re everything,” he whispers, watching your eyes open, landing on him, taking him in.

Your lips spread into a lust-filled smile, tinged with exhaustion, but there’s a spark there, too. Something having been awoken, ready, riling itself up.

He suspects he won’t be going home tonight, not that he really wanted to.

"Not to rush you, but we'll be late for the movie." Your lips press to his cheek when he steps into your space, apology stitched there—usually so punctual, on time. "I just need to grab a jacket if that's okay?" He grins, bites the inside of his cheek as he nods, hearing you dart off—taking the few short steps further into your place, spotting the table, walking to it. Immediately, memories knock into him. Loitering, pacing. Until his eyes land on the fingerprints, his thumb ghosting over it—finding it the perfect match. All knowing, and realising. It makes his throat dry as heat licks up his spine as you emerge, fiddling with your jacket. "You're... um, not cleaned your table." "I've cleaned up where you... you know, but not your handprints. No." He huffs out a laugh, tracing his bottom lip with his thumb. "Why's that?" You smirk, bashfully, trying to disguise it by biting the inside of your cheek. "Guess I like the memory of you being here." "And, what I did to you." "Very astute, Agent Pike. You wanna head out or do you wanna see if my pillow still smells like your hair product?" He slaps you on the ass for that.

AN: first time writing marcus. this was supposed to be 1k, the original was 6k. but i felt happier with this 🙈 pls be nice.

[starleska]

The Spot x Reader headcanons

just some ideas exploring The Spot as a character and how he may be with a significant other 👀 content warnings for bullying, harassment, possessive/yandere behaviour, and weird Eldritch portal-murder.

⚫ despite The Spot’s obvious ego, he struggles to believe you find him attractive. when you first meet he’s in something of a transformative period: volleying between being in awe at the power of his new physical form, and caving in to the abuse he’s received from friends, family and strangers for how he looks. The Spot rambles to you in a half-nervous, half-manic sort of way about the quirks of his bodies: how his spots fizz when he’s angry and feel like heartburn; how his blank-coloured skin stretches over his skeleton like too-tight rubber; how he isn’t even sure if he has a skeleton anymore. he’s convinced that you’re waiting for him to ‘turn back to normal’ - or, in the suspicious part of his mind, that you have an ulterior motive for getting close. it takes a while for The Spot to notice how blown your pupils become when he looms over you, or how your breath quickens when he says something equal parts charming and devious. but once he’s aware that you truly are captivated by him as The Spot...the power goes quite to his head 😉

⚫ The Spot is hesitant about physical contact at first, but once he knows you’re not a threat, he melts. understanding The Spot’s body was difficult at the start: one time, you tried to hold his hand, but accidentally stuck your fingers through a portal on his wrist and punched him where his nose should be. yet you soon learn to be careful, and with time, The Spot stops flinching away when you rest your palm on top of his, or gently cup his cheek. his skin has a smooth, dolphin-like quality: dry yet slippery like linoleum. you know you’re doing things right because The Spot is a vocal man: he voices his content audibly, with a pleased sigh when you nuzzle into his neck, and a gentle hum when he wraps his long arm around you and pulls you against his chest. when it finally clicks that you want him, The Spot can’t enough of you. he’s forever touching you on the arm, the waist, even the lips. it’s as if now his original form is gone, he can’t get enough of your physical humanity 🖤

⚫ becoming intimate with The Spot does your social life no favours, which makes him fiercely protective of you. it’s no wonder that the two of you found such common ground: you’ve been victim to your own share of bullying and trauma, and feel for The Spot’s plight, having had his whole life wrenched away from him without so much as a sympathetic ear. one day, you’re cornered by several locals who start berating you for being a ‘freak-lover’. they shove you to the ground and tell you to get out of town, and to take that ‘mutant’ with you. but before you can open your mouth to reply, portals open up underneath each your would-be attackers and swallows them up to the shoulders, keeping them pinioned in a kind of trans-dimensional bondage. 

The Spot pops through a hole in the sky and rushes to you, checking you for injury and asking, “Did they hurt you?” when you say no, but tell them what did transpire, you watch a ‘frown’ crease the upper half of the hole in his face. he turns away, and strolls over to his new captives, his demeanour languid and cocky. 

“Thought you could get away with this, huh?” The Spot asks. a chill thrills up your spine: his voice is two-toned, with something much darker belying his usual sweet tone. the captives are too terrified to reply. 

“Don’t bother,” he continues. “You’re just going to waste your breath. How about I do you a favour and...”

he raises one hand, and splits his index and middle fingers apart, like a pair of scissors.

“...cut things short?”

with a violent snap, The Spot snips his fingers together. the portals close in a sickening crunch, and you watch as the limp, lifeless bodies of your attackers slip through the open holes, and disappear into nothingness.  

[cloveswifey]

Jacket

Mattheo riddle x Fem!Reader

Fluff

Pansy had been persistently asking me all week to join her at the Slytherin party today, and I finally gave in and decided to go.

I'm not really one for parties, but what harm could one party do? Especially since it was a celebration of our victory in the quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

I started getting ready, with Pansy next to me, curling her brown locks.

"Should I go for the red dress or the green one?" I asked, holding up each dress for Pansy to see.

"Oh, definitely the green one," she replied.

I swiftly changed into the short green dress and applied some light makeup to my face. "Let's go," Pansy exclaimed with excitement as we descended the stairs into the Slytherin common room.

The party was already in full swing. Red solo cups overflowed with drinks, and the students swayed to music booming from a single Bluetooth speaker.

"So, what should we do first?" I asked, flashing a gentle smile.

"Drinks, obviously," Pansy replied matter-of-factly. We made our way over to the table adorned with various glasses, filled with alcoholic concoctions.

I approached the table and generously poured myself some Malibu into my cup. I quickly drank half of it before refilling it again.

"I think we should go dance," I enthusiastically proposed to my companion.

We both made our way towards the dance floor, and as soon as I joined the group, I could feel their contagious energy. I let myself go, dancing and enjoying the music, occasionally taking sips from my cup. I danced with strangers, letting loose and feeling the electrifying atmosphere.

After a few songs, I decided to step out of the group to refill my cup. That's when I noticed someone staring at me.

Mattheo Riddle.

I noticed the intensity of his gaze as I made my way to the table, refilled my drink, and continued dancing. It felt as if his eyes were exploring every contour of my body, studying the way I moved to the rhythm of the music.

He observed every accidental touch from others and his gaze pierced through anyone who boldly grabbed my waist to dance with me.

Curiosity sparked within me as I saw him approach the couch where our friends were previously seated before joining us on the dance floor.

I approached him, standing tall above him as he sat on the blanket. "Are you done eye-fucking me?" I snapped.

"Well, not exactly.” He chuckled, “I was rather enjoying myself," he responded with a smirk, taking a sip from his cup.

I sat down next to him, feeling the effects of the alcohol I had consumed. "You're disgusting, Mattheo."

"Don’t deny it sweetheart, you know you like it when I speak to you that way," he remarked.

I rolled my eyes and shivered as the air conditioning turned on. It's funny how, even at a party which would usually reak of sweat and sex; magic can be used to regulate the temperature and prevent things from getting too hot and sweaty.

"Are you shivering because you're nervous around me, or are you just cold?" Mattheo smirked.

"I'm cold, you dipshit," I sneered.

Suddenly, I felt warm fabric being draped over my shoulders. I glanced over my shoulder, glare still in place, to see Mattheo holding his green jacket, offering it to me.

"What's with the face? I'm just trying to keep you warm," he argued.

"Stop hitting on me," I snapped back.

"Why?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"You know why. I'm Enzo's little sister, which means I'm off-limits. Besides, I don't even like you," I chuckled.

"Whatever, just take the goddamn jacket before you catch a cold or something," he ordered.

I slipped my arms through the jacket, taking in the scent of expensive cologne and savoring the warmth. "Thanks," I mumbled.

"You look attractive in my clothes," he smirked, to which I responded by playfully smacking him on the arm.

"Ugh, I can't stand you," I mumbled, attempting to hide my smile.

"Oh, you don't actually hate me," he chuckled once again.

Despite knowing that he's off-limits and that I should despise him, I couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Maybe it was the influence of alcohol, but without thinking, I reached out and firmly grasped his face. Our lips collided.

The kiss shared between us is filled with sweetness and passion, as if we had both been longing for this moment for an eternity.

I can feel his hands finding their way to my waist, while I securely wrap mine behind his neck.

In an instant, I swing my leg over and settle into his lap, straddling him.

Eventually, we part our lips, both of us gasping for air, as our foreheads press together.

"I always knew you had feelings for me," he playfully teases.

I can't help but giggle, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Pansy, come on!" Enzo's voice suddenly interrupts, calling out for me.

"Shit," I quickly jumped off Rafe and nonchalantly positioned myself to the side of him. Pansy and Enzo were approaching us.

"Guys, we're ready to go," Pansy groaned.

"Yeah, okay," I stumbled over my words, still feeling a bit shaken from earlier.

Mattheo and I both stood up from the couch, eager to make our way back to the dorms.

As we walked, I grabbed Mattheo's arm, allowing Pansy and Enzo to move ahead of us. I began to take off his jacket when he stopped me.

"Keep it. It looks better on you," he whispered.

A smile crept onto my face as I playfully responded, "You're such a dork."

"Come to my dorm tonight, Dracos staying with Astoria," he suggested.

"All right," I replied, returning a peck on his lips before darting ahead to catch up with Enzo and Pansy. As I did, a thought crossed my mind: What exactly am I getting myself into?

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Heir and The Spare - Part 3: "The Heir and The Spare"

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary: Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Heaviest is the head that was always second best.

The Heir and The Spare | Steve Rogers Masterlist

It was at times like these that Steve remembers how new he is to this world, to this society. He was never one for dating back in the 1940's. That was always Bucky's territory. The few dates Steve did have, were usually pity dates arranged by one of the girls vying for a date with Bucky. 

He wasn't really sure what overcame him this afternoon. Being so bold, so brazen. That wasn't him. 

Actually, he knew exactly what overcame him. He liked you. He couldn't remember the last time a stranger had made his heart flutter like that, made him smile like a schoolboy. 

It didn't change that dating was strange for Steve. 

He didn't truly know how to do this. That's more than clear to him as he stands in the lobby of Stark Tower, ready promptly at 8, just like you said. His favorite light blue shirt paired with his brown leather jacket. A bouquet of fresh roses in hand. 

He's blissfully unaware of how strange this night would get for him as an oversized black SUV pulled up to the door at 8:01. 

Steve takes a deep breath, holding it for a moment longer than necessary. Happy rounds the car, standing in front of the passenger door with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep grimace etched on his face. 

"Happy," Steve nods in greeting. 

"Steven."

"Is everything alright?" Steve awkwardly chuckles, he wasn't sure whether he was asking about Happy's clipped tone or the fact that as Happy begrudgingly opens the car door for him, he looks inside to see an empty interior.

"Fantastic. Superb. Stupendous. Couldn't be better," Happy sarcastically replies, slamming the car door behind Steve. 

"I take it you're not pleased with me," Steve remarks from the back seat. 

"Whatever would give you that impression?" Happy snarks. "Is it because, I don't know, you've completely ruined the itinerary that I spent months putting together? Or is it the fact that I told you to stay out of it - that nothing good would come from putting yourself between those two? Or is it because the very first thing you did was put yourself right in the middle of it?"

Steve offers a tight lipped smile. "I guess that doesn't bode well for asking you to tell me the plans for tonight."

"Look who's finally using that head of theirs."

Happy weaves his way through the streets of Manhattan in silence. The radio off. Not a single pleasantry exchanged. Not even a backward glance. For the entirety of the 30 minute car ride, Steve schools his expression desperately trying to keep the deep seated cringe off of his face.

When the car finally comes to a halt, Steve can hardly see out into the night through the harshly tinted windows. He's half sure that Happy's going to dump him in the middle of nowhere. 

The door flings open again. Happy once again stands before Steve with a frown much more intense than his usual grumpiness, and meant specifically for Steve. 

He looks around to the damp, dark alley, a scene straight out of a murder mystery. The only thing that keeps him from being entirely convinced that his murder isn't about to occur is the fact that Steve knows Happy. And even that is a hesitant assurance at this point.

An anxious chuckle leaves Steve's lips as he steps into the alley. Happy grips Steve's shoulder as he steps out onto the asphalt. "Don't hurt her."

It's oddly endearing watching Happy be so protective over you. Steve smiles at him, quirking an eyebrow, "Isn't this Tony's job?"

"Don't hurt her," Happy repeats himself. He tips his head at Steve, "Have a good night, Steven."

"Um... Happy?"

A deep sigh rumbles through Happy, Steve can practically hear the eye roll in his tone. "Right through the door, Steve."

"Great."

The night only got more strange from there. He couldn't pinpoint what it was. That Happy dropped him off at the back exit of a restaurant in the middle of Manhattan. That there seemed to be a total of 3 people working in the whole restaurant. Or that the restaurant was entirely empty except for one table in the very back corner. 

He found you tucked in the furthest corner of the restaurant. At a table garnished with a candle and two glasses of wine. It's the furthest table away from the doors, away from any windows or prying eyes. It's quiet. Private. Intimate. "Hi."

You smile up at him. "You made it."

He shrugs his shoulders, a light, anxious chuckle falling from his lips, "I don't make a habit of asking out beautiful women and then not showing up."

Your grin grows wide. "I meant that your superhero business might've called you away, but that's also good to know."

"Oh." He rubs the back of his neck, his face burning a bright red. He abruptly sticks out the bouquet of flowers that hang at his side. "I, um, I brought these for you."

"That's very sweet of you. Thank you."

He settles into the chair just across from you, placing the cloth napkin on his lap. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I think you just did."

He playfully rolls his eyes, leaning forward, he rests his elbows on the table, "You knew who I was when you saw me, didn't you?"

"Yes," you confess with a chortle. "I recognized you the moment I saw you. My father talked about you quite a lot from what I remember."

Steve smiles fondly at the memory of the man he knew all those years ago. A man very different than the one Tony often described. He could only imagine what you had to say about Howard. "He was a good man."

"He - he was a complicated man," you hedge. "From what I remember, at least."

"I'm sorry."

It's your turn for a question you wondered about since you first met Steve Rogers. "You had no idea who I was, did you?"

"I -" Steve winces.

"It's alright," you assure him. "I'm not offended. Unlike my brother, I live a more... understated lifestyle. I'm not interested in being splashed all over the front page of every tabloid and magazine."

It's only half the truth. The other half was that you quickly realized the only interest people had in you was comparing you to Tony. It was exhausting never quite living up to him, constantly living in his shadow, under the weight of the comparison to Tony and Howard. 

"Hence, the empty restaurant," Steve guesses. 

"Exactly." You look around the restaurant. You liked the quiet. You relished in not worrying if anyone was taking your picture. It was nice getting to know Steve without being under a microscope. "Though I will admit there were special efforts made to keep tonight private because of you."

Steve quirks an eyebrow at you. "Is that so?"

"I can only imagine the headlines if people found out that a Stark was on a date with Steve Rogers."

"Does that happen often?"

"No, I do my best to keep myself out of the spotlight."

An embarrassed flush creeps up Steve's face. "I meant - with - with the dates."

A chuckle bubbles out of your mouth as you sip your wine, "Are you asking me about my dating life, Steve?"

He shrugs, "Maybe I want to know if there's competition I should be worried about."

"I focus on my work."

"Your father once said the exact same thing to me."

Nostalgia washes over you. You didn't often get to talk to people who knew him so personally. Let alone people who knew him before the empire. It also doesn't escape you that you're on a date with a man older than your father. At least, he was physically around your age, you reconcile. "You were his friend."

"I was... Is that weird?"

You shrug it off, "I suppose we'll find out."

"I know Tony has some strong opinions about your father, but that truly wasn't the man I knew."

"He treated Tony and I very differently," you hesitantly broach the topic of your father. "We may have had the same father, but the dad we got couldn't have been more different."

"Can I ask? About you and Tony?"

In that moment, Steve swears he sees your guard fly right back up. Your posture stiffens, jaw tightens like you're poising for an attack. There's a bite in your tone that wasn't there seconds ago. "You won't change my mind."

"Who says I want to?"

His quick response throws you off. Most people didn't care to hear your side of the infamous story. Most people were content with the headlines of your parents' death, with the tale of your anguished brother missing his dear sister while she went to the best boarding school in the world while he dutifully undertook the mantle of Stark Industries.

People didn't question the beloved genius that is, and would always be, your brother. You couldn't think of a single time anyone had asked to hear what you thought.

"You'd be the first."

"I'm just curious, I suppose."

"You know what they say about curiosity, don't you?" Steve chuckles but remains silent, insisting that you actually answer his question. You're not really sure what to say. Let alone how much you should say on a first date. "It's complicated."

"Try me," he challenges. 

"It wasn't easy for either of us - bearing the weight of the Stark name. By the time I was born, Stark Industries was an empire. I was quite literally born and bred to carry on our father's legacy." Steve leans forward, hanging on every word you say. It makes you nervous and endeared all at once. Even with your extensive media training, all those interviews and public speaking forums, you don't really know what to say. As you momentarily gather your thoughts, he patiently waits for you to continue, "Tony and I have always known our place. The roles we were supposed to play."

"And what role is that?"

"The heir and the spare," you bitterly chuckle. Over the years, you stopped counting how many times you'd been called that. The spare. It was a moniker that your father enjoyed quite a bit. "That's what they would call us. My mother hated it. She always said that I was no one's spare."

"Your mother sounds like a smart woman."

It was the one thing you and Tony would always agree on. "She was. She held us together."

"So what changed? Between you and Tony?"

"They died," you bluntly reply. For a moment, there's a distant look in your eye as you recall the events of that fateful day. Tony didn't even tell you what had happened. He left it all to Jarvis. "It all - it happened so fast. The accident. The funeral. All I knew is one day I was at home, and the next day, Tony was gone, Jarvis is telling me that I'm being shipped off to boarding school."

"He shipped you off to boarding school?" Steve repeats in disbelief. 

There's a practiced casual tone in your voice. You've given this excuse to people before, time and time again. For as long as you can remember, there has been a long standing rumor of a Stark sibling feud. One that started when you were 8 years old. One that both you and he took careful consideration to discredit, staged lunches, well timed press photos, calculated leaks from sources close to you.

You've given the same reason to countless people. It's the same reason you give Steve. "What 20 year old wants the responsibility of raising his 8 year old sister?"

"You resent him for that." He calls it out so casually. You can count the number of people you've confided to about this. You stopped simply because people always took his side.

They always made it seem so absurd, that you could resent your brother for sending you away. After all, he went to boarding school too. So what if he didn't bother to wait until you were old enough to understand? So what if he shipped you off and forgot about you?

Your throat tightens. For some reason, you trust Steve Rogers. There's a sense of comfort and warmth that surrounds those ocean blue eyes and boyish grin.

He's the first person that hasn't already taken Tony's side. He's the first person that doesn't jump to defend the heir.

The words spill out of your mouth before you can sanitize the ugly truth. "I didn't just lose my parents that night. I lost him, too."

"So you've never been close?"

"No, it wasn't always like this. I remember it being different, before they died. I remember a time when Tony and I could actually stand to be in a room together for more than five minutes. In spite of all his flaws, Tony was everything a big brother should be. Even 12 years apart, we were inseparable." You lick your lips, exhaling softly, "But then he went off to run Stark Industries, to become the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist that the world knows today. He became the heir."

"From what I've heard, you're incredibly accomplished yourself."

You almost sigh in relief, grateful for the change in subject. You tip your head at him, "You've done your research."

"Is that wrong?" he wonders. 

"Happy tells me you're curious," you offer as your response. 

"Seems like you did your research, too," Steve grins, leaning closer to you over the table. "What else did Happy tell you?"

"You're technologically inept, still adapting to modern day society, a beacon of morality."

"Is that so?"

A coy smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "I may have added that last one."

"Well, he's right about the first two," Steve concedes. "What else?"

"He told me about your friendship with Tony."

"Tony is - he's a good man," Steve replies. "A little misguided. A lot of ego."

"Does he know you're here tonight?"

"No. Should he?"

"I think you could answer that question better than I could."

It's a painful truth, but you weren't lying when you said that you didn't know Tony and you hadn't known him for well over 20 years. 

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry he did that to you." His words are so sincere. Your guard slips lower than it has in years. For the first time in a long time, someone understands, someone sees you. You almost forgot what that felt like. "It couldn't have been easy for you."

You tip your glass towards him. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown."

He clinks his glass against yours. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown."

Indeed, heavy is the head that wears the crown, but heaviest is the head that was always second best. 

By the end of the night, you've made an uncharacteristically quick judgement on Steve Rogers. You like him. You actually, really like him. You stand in the kitchen's back entrance, chuckling as the date comes to an end. "I know this is a bit unconventional."

Steve dismissively waves his hand. "Please, ending a date in the back entrance of a restaurant is pretty standard for me."

"Thank you for being so understanding. Trust me when I say that it's in both our best interests that this doesn't make the morning papers."

"Oh, I believe you," Steve laughs. "And, if we're being honest, dating is a little unconventional for me."

You quirk an eyebrow up at him. "Really?"

"I wasn't exactly a hot commodity back in the 40's."

"And now?"

He echoes your words from earlier, "I focus on my work."

"I see."

"Will I get to see you again?" he eagerly asks. It only takes a flash of a hesitant expression on your face for him to backtrack, "Was that too forward? That was too forward, wasn't it?"

You quickly shake your head, eyebrows pulled in, "No. No. It's not that. I just - I'm supposed to go back to LA in three days, Steve."

Steve rubs the back of his neck, "In three days? That's... very soon."

"Though I suppose I could be convinced to make a trip or two to New York," you offer. "Unless, you'd like to come to see my side of the country?"

"You'd fly across the country for a second date?"

"Was that you asking for a second date?" you counter.

He definitively nods, "Yes, that was."

"Well, since we're being so honest, I'm actually in the process of planning this massive launch for a Stark foundation, so I'll be visiting New York more often than I'd like to."

Steve playfully clutches his chest. "Hey, don't take it out on my city."

"It's not your last name plastered on that eyesore of a building, it's usually all I see when I'm here, but maybe, you can take me on a tour of the city. Try to win me over."

"I'd really like that." Just as you're about to reach for the door, Steve stops you with a hand on your shoulder, "Well, could we - I mean, what if we snuck in our second date before you left? Or is that too eager of me?"

Your grin only widens. "It is, but I like that."

"Then, it's a date."

"It's a date."

Next Chapter AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Steve Rogers Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[livelaughtouya]

Jealousy // Dabi x reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut, mention of murders, toxic relationship, not proof read

Word count: 1,291

You didn’t know the name of the man you were grinding against in the packed bar. You didn’t care to know his name either. The odor of smoke filled the room causing your eyes to search for its source. Shortly, they landed on Dabi who stood next to Shigaraki with a scowl on his face. Blood trickled down his hand as shattered glass laid on the floor next to his boots. Once you met his angered gaze you smirked and shot him a wink before turning around to face your fling of the night. Your fingers grabbed ahold of the man’s dark hair pulling him to your face. He took this as a sign to press his mouth to yours, leaving sloppy kisses. You kept your eyes on Dabi’s as you granted the stranger access into your mouth. Uncontrollable rage spread across Dabi’s features as he stalked over to you. You let out a moan when the man in front of you grabbed a handful of your ass making Dabi pick up his pace. Suddenly you felt a strong grip in your locks before you were yanked backwards. “What the hell man?” the stranger that you had been dancing in front of you shouted. Dabi still had a grip on your hair as he stared down the man that was attempting to stake claim to his girl. He just glared at the man as his hands began to emit a bright blue flame that sent heat through the room. All you heard were screams of horror as Dabi lit the man in front of you in a blaze causing everyone to run in fear. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you pouted, making him let go of his hold on you.

“Why? So you could fuck him?” he spat. You gave him the most innocent look you could muster before shaking your head at him. “You act so innocent like this isn’t your fault.” He was grumbling as he stepped towards you.

“You burn me, I’ll burn you,” you shrugged, glaring up at him. He let out a sigh before rolling his eyes.

“We were broken up when I fucked her,” he defended as he pushed some hair out of your face so he could get a better look at you. You rolled your eyes.

“Just like we are now,” you argued before you brought your eyes to the burning corpse behind your ex lover. You scrunched your nose up in disgust as you eyed him before turning your face back to Dabi.

“No we’re not. You’re forgetting I said I wanted to work things out after you decided to use your quirk to boil the girl’s blood that was under me.” You let out a scoff at his words. Maybe he did say that to you. You were too fired up at that moment to remember anything other than the satisfaction of ruining your ex lover’s night.

“Don’t recall,” you hum, turning on your feet to head out the door before the heroes show up. Dabi was quick to follow you, irritated that you were being difficult. “Plus you just burned my date up right in front of me. That was rude,” added as he caught up with your pace. 

“You did it first,” he scoffed, making you giggle. 

The rest of the walk back to the hideout was done in silence. Once you made it inside he followed you into your room before you could shut the door in his face. He sprawled out on your bed as you moved to the closet, grabbing a random shirt before slipping out of your dress and into something more comfortable. “What?” you asked as Dabi stared at you with a smirk on his face.

“Nothing. Just find it cute how you still wear my shirts to bed,” he replied, letting his eyes trail from your legs up to your chest. 

“The last time you were in my bed was a week and a half ago and you’re surprised I still wear your beat up band tees?” you scoffed, plopping down next to him.

“More surprised about you murdering someone in my bed then continuing to wear my clothes,” he shrugged. Amusement plagued his face as he moved his fingertips across your bare legs making goose bumps rise. He moved his eyes to your face before pulling you down on top of him. You could feel his length pressed against your thigh as you straddled him. You gave him a look of disgust as you tried to pull yourself off of him. He kept a firm grip on your hip to hold you in place.

“Didn’t know killing people turned you on,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.

“More like seeing you so jealous,” he replied, grinding his hips up to get some sort of friction to ease the tension in his jeans. 

“Like you’re any better. You just caught a man on fire for dancing with me.”

“Someone should have taught him not to play with fire,” Dabi countered, pulling your face down to his so he could kiss you roughly. He knew that you wouldn’t keep up your hot and cold facade for long. Satisfaction filled him as he felt your hand move to his hair, pulling roughly as his tongue entered your mouth. He took the opportunity to flip the two of you over. A smile was on your face as you wrapped your legs around his waist as he peppered sloppy kisses down your neck, letting his teeth graze against the sensitive veins that littered your throat.

Dabi couldn’t continue to do the foreplay much longer. He missed the feeling of you. He missed the moans that would come from your soft lips as he drove his hips into you. He watched you frown as he lifted himself off of you for a moment. The look on your face changed when he ripped the shirt off you, exposing your breast before letting his mouth attack your nipple. His other hand worked to yank his belt off and tug off his pants. Once his member was freed he was quick to line himself at your entrance before ramming into you. A gasp left your lips at the sudden fullness inside of you. Your shocked expression made Dabi chuckle into your neck as he found a rough pace that you both enjoyed. The moans that were escaping your lips made him feel a tightness in stomach. He knew he wasn’t going to last long. He never could when it came to you, but he always made sure you finished before he did. His rough hands made their way to your clit before letting his thumb circle the bud of nerves quickly.

“Dabi, I am about to,” you were panting and racking your nails into his shoulder. A groan left his lips as he felt your pussy tighten and pulse against him. Moans were filling the room as he quickened his pace. 

“Shit,” he muttered into your neck as he began to finish inside of you. He kept his face buried in your neck, not moving from in between your legs. It was clear he needed a moment to catch his breath. After a few minutes he finally pulled out and rolled over beside you before pulling you onto his chest. A smile was on his face as you looked up at him.

“You ready to get back together now?” he asked, brushing his hands through your hair.

“I guess,” you giggled before pressing your lips to his.

Both of you knew that you were the equivalent to fire and gasoline. You loved one another hard. You hated each other harder. You guys wouldn’t have it any other way.

[legolasbadass]

Office Hours, Part 31

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague.

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: E

A/N: Hi everyone! It feels like I blinked and suddenly I haven't updated this story in over 7 months, ooops 🙈 I moved abroad and went back to school in September to start a postgraduate degree, so I've had very little time to write over the past few months. I hope you can all forgive me and are still interested in Lorelei and Richard's story! If you are, I've tried to make this chapter extra special... 😈

Before I know it, the spring break is over, and I am drowning in emails, deadlines, and assignments to correct. Thankfully, however, the telltale signs of summer bloom across Oxford as the term unfolds. The air, once crisp, now carries a gentle warmth, accompanied by the hum of bees and the fragrance of blooming flowers along the banks of the River Cherwell, which beckons scholars and locals alike to punting excursions. Days lengthen, inviting late-night strolls through narrow cobblestone streets while the evening sky blends into hues of soft pastels. The fast-approaching exams threaten the leisurely atmosphere of the city,  but when I walk through the sunlit streets with Richard’s hand holding onto mine, I feel as though time stands still; there are no exams, no piles of unmarked essays on my desk, and Richard is here, and he is not leaving. Not now. Not ever. 

I try to be happy and excited for him—I am—but with each passing day, it becomes harder and harder to imagine being thousands of miles away from each other. But we have many things to look forward to; in a few days, we will officially be on summer holiday, and I will move in with Richard. That is what I need to focus on. His imminent departure looms over us, but it does not change the fact that we love each other and are determined to make this work. A year ago, I was offered a lecturer post at Exeter College. It was more than I had ever dreamed of, and I thought life could not get any better. Little did I know I would meet Richard and fall in love with him. The past few months have been a whirlwind, and it still surprises me how fast things have progressed between Richard and me—how quickly he has come to mean the world to me. The thought of losing him terrifies me, but we have been through so much already, so I have to believe that we can get through this next year. 

“Lorelei?” A knock and a familiar rumbling voice pull me back to the present moment.  

Richard stands in the doorway to my office, one hand resting against the aged wooden frame as he smiles at me. The unbuttoned collar of his white shirt draws my attention to his throat and the patch of hair peeking through. Just like the first time we met. 

“Hey,” I say with a smile. 

“Lost track of time?” 

“What?” 

“It’s half past four.” 

“Oh,” I breathe out as I glance at the time on my phone. “Sorry—I completely lost track of time, yeah. Hope you haven’t been waiting for me too long.” 

Richard shakes his head as I throw my laptop and notebooks into my bag, then rush to the door, but he blocks the way with his arm. “You alright?” 

“I’m fine,” I reply, smiling at the concern in his voice. “Just have a lot of things on my mind.” 

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and the tender look in his eyes tells me he is thinking of kissing me, but the hallways are busy with students and professors, all rejoicing at the end of the term. 

“Good or bad things?” he asks, his hand lingering on my jaw for a moment longer than it should in this environment. 

“A little bit of both,” I reply, but when he merely continues to watch me, I sigh. “There’s still so much to do before the move. I haven’t packed any of my clothes or anything from the kitchen—”

“Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you pack. Don’t worry about that.” I nod and offer him a grateful smile. Then he frowns. “That’s not what’s bothering you.” 

Sometimes, I wish he did not know me so well. “It’s just the move combined with research deadlines and all the exams I’ll have to correct in a few days,” I say, not wanting to bring up the true cause of my discomfort. I do not want him to feel guilty—he should be excited about this research opportunity, and he deserves nothing less than my unwavering support. “Have you gotten any news on that flat you were interested in?” I ask a few moments later as I lock the door to my office before walking towards the main staircase, trying to appear unphased. 

“Not yet, but it’s still early in Boston so maybe I’ll get some news later.” 

“Right,” I say with a smile, but it hits me all over again that we will not only be separated by an ocean but by time as well, and the thought of needing to wait hours for a text or call from him when he wakes up each day claws are my heart. 

“So I told Michael about Harvard’s offer.”

“How did he take it?” I ask, knowing this was difficult for him as they have been friends and colleagues for many years. 

“He took it well. I mean—it’s not like he could do anything if he didn’t like the idea of me leaving for a year; I’m allowed to take time off from teaching for research. That being said, he told me he was happy for me and that it would be great for the department and the college to have one of their professors working with a famous scholar like Stanley Griffin.” 

“Just as great as it is for Harvard to have one of their professors working with you, I imagine,” I say, looking up at him. 

Richard chuckles skeptically. “Lorelei, he’s Stanley Griffin.” He speaks the scholar's name almost as if he were talking about Shakespeare himself. “His anthologies are used in most English departments.” 

“Well, only one of you is a professor at what is arguably the most prestigious university in the world.” 

“I guess,” he replies with a sheepish smile that warms my heart. 

The sun burns bright in the sky above the dreaming spires, casting long shadows on the cobblestone beneath our feet as we walk through the main quadrangle toward Broad Street. All around us, students rejoice in their newfound freedom, lounging at cafes, iced coffees in hand, discussing summer plans while cyclists whizz by, their wheels clicking against the cobbled paths.

“I can’t believe it’s so warm and sunny today and we have to spend the whole evening indoors for the staff party,” I groan as I step into Richard’s car, throwing my bag on the backseat. 

“We don’t have to go,” he says, closing his door and buckling his seatbelt. 

“Of course we have to go.”

“Lorelei, these things tend to be really dull. They call it a party but it’s just a room full of tired academics who’d rather be at home or locked in their offices, and they serve ridiculous canapés that leave you starving at the end of the evening. Although, admittedly, there’s always an open bar.”

“Alright, then let’s stop and get burgers on the way and stay close to the bar for the duration of the not-so-party party.” Richard chuckles as he steers out of the parking spot. “Come on, our presence is expected. And it might be the last time you get to see some of our colleagues before you leave.” 

He does not say anything for a while, then he reaches out to squeeze my thigh, and I know he, too, is thinking of the long months of loneliness ahead. 

In an attempt to change his mind, I intertwine our fingers and smirk as I say, in a light, sing-songy voice, “I bought a new dress for the occasion that I think you’ll really like. It’s navy, and sleeveless—I just hope it’s not too short…” 

Richard shakes his head but fails to hide his smile. “I see what you’re trying to do, sweetheart.” As we stop at a red light, Richard notices my expression and sighs. “Alright, let’s go to the stupid party—but we’re not staying too late.” 

***

It took longer than expected to get ready at my flat. Despite agreeing to attend the event, Richard prevented me from getting dressed with languid kisses and lingering caresses, but eventually, we managed to tear ourselves from each other and leave. 

The city is submerged in the sun’s golden farewell to the day when Richard and I arrive at an imposing, Jacobean-style mansion near The Queen’s College, and as we walk through the tall wooden doors and into the main hall, I cannot help but gasp and look up at the ceiling high above us, causing Richard to chuckle. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he says, squeezing my hand as he leads me toward the grand staircase. 

I nod. “I think I’d prefer to just walk around the building instead of going to the party,” I begin playfully, but Richard shakes his head.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he says, letting go of my hand to hold my back and push me forward. “You practically dragged me to this thing so you better not leave me for even a second.” 

I bite back a smile. “What if I need to go to the loo?” 

Richard chuckles. “Okay, you’re not leaving me except to go to the loo.” 

The hubbub of conversation and clinking glasses fills the air as we step into the grand room lit by the setting sun and the soft glow of chandeliers hanging from the frescoed ceiling. I spot familiar faces in the crowd while we make our way to the bar, but most people I do not know, so I am grateful for Richard’s reassuring presence, and I already dread having to attend events like these without him next year. 

“So here we are,” Richard says dispassionately after we order drinks. “Now do you believe me for saying these things are boring?”

I shake my head in amusement, then bite my lips, suddenly feeling shy. 

“What is it, sweetheart? You’re blushing,” he points out with a curious smile. 

Hesitantly, I lean in and speak in a soft voice only he can hear. “Would it be less boring if I told you I’m not wearing knickers?” 

Richard laughs, but then he catches my eyes and gulps heavily. “Are you—you’re really not—?” 

I shake my head, slowly gaining confidence as his eyes darken. He laughs again, the sound deeper and hoarser, telling me exactly how he feels about my styling choice. 

 “This is a work event!” he playfully chastises me, and I giggle as he brings a hand to my back.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure this party wasn’t too dull for your tastes.” 

He smirks. “I now suspect I’ll be feeling unwell or tired rather soon and you’ll have to bring me home earlier than planned.” 

“Oh, yes? And how will we spend the rest of the evening once we’re back home?” I ask, feigning innocence. 

“Well, for starters, you’ll take off that lovely dress and bend over—” 

Heat rises up my neck, and I nearly choke on my drink when, just at that moment, someone calls out to us, forcing us to pull apart suddenly. 

“Richard, Lorelei!” Professor Bennett greets us with a kind smile. “I was beginning to wonder if maybe you wouldn’t be joining us.” 

Richard glances at me, a cheeky grin illuminating his slightly red face, before turning back to Professor Bennett. “Last-minute outfit crisis,” he replies teasingly, squeezing my waist. 

I shake my head, trying to ignore the tingling in my belly caused by his last words to me. 

“And this is what you landed on?” Professor Bennett says playfully as he looks Richard up and down, causing me to laugh.

“Well, not everyone has your fashion sense, Michael,” Richard responds with a chuckle.

“Maybe we should start being evaluated on that; that way, I might stand a chance against you and win the teaching award for once.” 

Smiling, I look up at Richard and then back at Professor Bennett. “Richard was voted favourite Professor again?” 

“He sure was!” he says, raising his glass to Richard. 

“How amazing!” I exclaim, momentarily resting my hand on Richard’s chest. “Congrats, love!”

Richard’s grateful smile is made all the more endearing by the faint blush blooming on his cheeks. 

“But don’t tell anyone—I haven’t sent out the official announcement yet.”

Professor Bennett then turns to greet a passing colleague, so I lean into Richard. “I know one person who for sure voted for you,” I whisper with a teasing smile, thinking of Jane Taylor and the stars in her eyes when she speaks to him. 

“Shut up,” he responds, though he fails to hide his smirk as he pinches my waist, causing me to giggle. 

“Hey, there you are!” Natasha’s familiar voice interrupts us, and I turn to see her squeezing her way around a couple of Ph.D. students. We all greet her, but then she notices Richard and seems to hesitate for a second before she says, “Apparently, congratulations are in order!” Richard smiles shyly. “Working with Stanley Griffin—that’s exciting!” 

“Yeah, it is,” Richard replies with a nod, though he momentarily tightens his hold on me.

  “I must say, thank God for you, Lorelei,” Professor Bennett begins, causing me to frown in curiosity, “under different circumstances, I’d be worried about losing Richard to Harvard forever, but I know as long as you’re in Oxford, he’ll be coming back,” he says with a fond smile. 

I chuckle, then try to come up with a playful response, but I cannot ignore the heaviness in my heart. How can I miss him already when he is still here, holding me tight?

Thankfully, Richard steps in. “Don’t worry, Michael, you won’t even get a chance to miss me. I’ll be coming back periodically to check in on my postgrad students—that sort of thing…” 

“Yes, sure. For the students, of course,” Professor Bennett says teasingly, and from the corner of my eyes, I notice Richard staring at me longingly, and heat rises to my cheeks. 

As they continue to joke around, Natasha catches my eye and gestures for me to follow her. I reassure Richard I will be right back, then step aside, concerned by the frown on her face. 

Once we are far enough from the others, she reached out to caress my arm and asks, “How are you feeling?” 

I gulp, suddenly understanding her previous hesitation. “I’m fine.”

She nods slowly, biting on her lower lip. “So he’s leaving for a year…” 

I nod, struggling to gather the strength to respond in words. 

“That must be really tough for you.” 

“Yeah, it is, but… we’ll make it work.” 

“So you guys aren’t—aren’t breaking up or anything, are you?” 

“Oh, no!” 

She lets out a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God! When I heard the news earlier today all I could think of was…” She trails off and laughs nervously. “You guys can make it work. I know you can.” 

I smile. “Yeah, I hope so.” Then my smile widens. “Actually, I’m moving in with him.” 

“Really?” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up in genuine happiness. 

“Yes! We want to make the most of the time we have together before he leaves, and this makes it a little easier to reassure ourselves that we’ll get through this together.” 

Natasha nods and squeezes my arm. “I’m so happy for you two!”

“Thanks,” I reply, grateful for her friendship. Then I notice Richard eyeing me from the bar, but before I can say anything, Natasha smiles in understanding. 

“Alright, go back to your man,” she teases. “I just really wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ll go see if I can find Sarah somewhere.” 

I give Natasha a quick hug before making my way back toward Richard, who is now conversing with two men I do not know. As soon as he notices me, he excuses himself from the conversation and, wrapping one arm around my waist, pulls me slightly to the side of the bar, away from prying ears.

“Everything okay?” he asks in concern.

“Yeah, Natasha just wanted to check in and make sure I was alright given… you know…”

Richard nods, then looks down at me with an exaggerated pout. “You left me alone when you said you wouldn’t.” 

“So needy,” I tease as I rest a hand against his solid chest, my fingers absently playing with the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. “You were talking with Michael so I figured you wouldn’t mind.” 

“Okay, new rule: when we’re at an event and you tell me you’re not wearing any knickers, you have to stay within arm’s reach.” 

I burst out laughing, though heat rises to my cheeks at his rumbled words. “Alright, I can abide by that rule.”

“You better.” He smirks before leaning in to kiss me. His lips are soft and warm against mine, sweetened by the wine he has sipped. I can feel passion simmering deep within him, and when I reluctantly pull away sometime later, all too aware of our surroundings, Richard groans quietly. He then takes one quick glance around the room before leaning in conspiringly. “I think we might be able to sneak out of here for a little bit,” he says in a quiet voice, then gulps, and I am momentarily distracted by the movement of his Adam’s apple. “You know, to explore the building like you wanted.” 

“Right. To explore the building,” I repeat, smiling innocently. He finishes his drink in one big gulp, then winks as he takes my hand to lead me out of the crowded room.

The sound of our shoes against the polished stone floor echoes through the long hallway as we search for a more private place to continue the evening, failing to contain our laughter as we try door after door, in vain. We have nearly reached the other end of the building when we finally stumble upon an unlocked door. We cast furtive glances around us to make sure we are alone before slipping inside what turns out to be a small reading room with bookshelf-lined walls and a few rows of desks, illuminated only by the lamposts in the street below. The sweet, earthy scent of aged paper and leather-bound tomes fills the air, but then Richard wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, laughter lingering in his eyes, and the familiar smell of his cologne surrounds me. I can still hear echoes of the party in the distance, but it all disappears when, with a soft smile, Richard leans in to rest his forehead against mine. One of his hands is now tangled in my hair, holding the back of my head and pulling me closer as we share our breath, lingering in this moment, allowing ourselves to pretend that the rest of the world does not exist. 

When he finally claims my lips in a hungry kiss, I let my eyes flutter close and, standing on my tiptoes, circle my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to me as I drown in his passionate embrace, content to pretend that my only worry is knowing we will eventually need to pull apart for air. We move against each other out of instinct, ignoring the time and place, fuelled by an evening of flirting and lingering touches and our impending separation. He lets go of my lips to trace a path along my jaw, down my neck toward that sensitive spot below my ear, and the warmth of his tongue combined with the rasp of his beard sends heat spiralling down my spine. My hands are now buried in his hair, tugging on the soft curls, and he groans into my neck before reconnecting our lips. 

Without breaking the kiss, he effortlessly lifts me into his strong arms and sets me on one of the desks, spreading my legs apart with his body. Already, I ache for him; heat swirls through me, buzzing incessantly between my legs, and when he squeezes my left thigh with one of his large hands, I cannot help but buck towards him and whimper, the desperate sound of desire echoing through the room. 

“Be quiet, sweetheart,” Richard murmurs against my lips, and a rush of arousal floods my core. 

As his hand slides higher up my thigh and slips under my dress, I cannot help but chuckle. “Are we really doing this?” 

Richard grins. “Don’t act innocent; you knew we’d end up in this situation the moment you decided not to wear knickers.” I giggle into the kiss at the deep, unbridled lust coating his words. “I can’t resist you.”

He pulls away just enough to watch my face as he teasingly slides two fingers over my folds, coating me in my arousal. Biting my lips, I wriggle on the desk to grant him better access, and when his fingertips brush against my clit, the whole room seems to pulse with the intensity of the pleasure tingling through me. Richard knows my body by heart now—he knows exactly where and how to touch me to have me panting in his arms in no time. He sets up a languid pace, alternating between drawing circles on my clit and slipping a long finger inside me, only allowing himself to increase the pace when I latch onto his shoulders, my hands pulling on his tweed blazer. My breath hitches in my throat when he slips two fingers inside me, crooking them and almost instantly finding the spot that has me arching my back and whimpering his name. My legs are now wrapped around him, my thighs pressing into him as he catches my mouth, taking the breath from my lungs and the moans from my lips. 

My release washes over me in a dizzying wave, pulsing through every fibre of my being, leaving me hot and panting as I cling to Richard while he continues to pleasure me, not stopping until I collapse in his arms. A car horn echoes in the distance, reminding me of our surroundings. Even so, as I look up to meet Richard’s lust-darkened eyes, desire flares in me again, and the warm weight of his hardness pressing into my inner thigh reassures me that this is far from over. Licking my lips, I raise a hand to teasingly caress him through his trousers, revelling in the whimper he fails to hold back. One of his hands returns to my hair, gently tugging as I slowly reach for his belt buckle—

The door creaks open. 

In an instant, Richard and I pull apart, and I hasten to tug my dress back in place and press my thighs together just as a security guard steps inside. His eyes flicker between Richard and me, his expression a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. 

“Er, sorry, guys—this room is supposed to be closed. You can’t be in here.” 

Too mortified to speak, I turn to Richard, and he smiles sheepishly at the security guard. “Apologies, we didn’t realize. I was just showing her around.” 

The security guard nods, then steps back to let us pass. My face burns as we mumble apologies, but he walks away as quickly as he first appeared, leaving us to stand awkwardly outside the reading room. 

“I guess we should stick to our offices,” Richard muses playfully.

My heart still hammering in my chest, I look up at Richard, biting my lip, but then my eyes drift down to the noticeable bulge in his trousers, and I burst out laughing. 

“That man certainly won’t be losing any sleep trying to decipher what you meant by ‘showing me around’,” I giggle. 

Richard looks down and tries, in vain, to adjust his trousers. “Do you think he noticed?” 

“Well, I hope for his sake he doesn’t make a habit of staring at strangers’ crotches. But if he does, then yeah, he definitely noticed.” 

“It’s all your fault,” he replies with a grin. Laughing, I wrap my arms around him and look up to meet his tender gaze, but he quickly takes my arms and reasserts a more appropriate distance between us. “You’re not helping.”

“Sorry,” I chuckle as I straighten his blazer, not wanting to let go of him.

“Oh, yes—you look very sorry.” 

“How about I make it up to you instead?” 

Richard grins. “Does that mean we get to go home?” 

“Yeah, I think sneaking away sounds like a good plan.” 

The ride back to my flat is filled with stolen glances and lingering touches. As soon as we arrive and lock the door behind us, he pulls me in for a passionate kiss, and I melt in his arms. His touch is tender and possessive, and with each kiss, each caress, we reassert our love for each other, surrounded by the boxes that signal the beginning of our new life together.

Tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @laurfilijames @swoopswishsward @quiall321 @dianakc @sazzlep @albionscastle

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters or added to my tag list, let me know!

[xaeethebaee]

Shuji x Shortcake

Minors DNI! Mature audiences ONLY!

After over a decade, you reunited with your childhood best friend Shuji Hanma after moving back to Japan. Things seem great however the more you've spent time with him, the more you learn about the dark activities he has been into since you last saw him.

Warnings! Violence, mentions of murder, smoking, Hanma being a giant intimidating doofus, and strong sexual content. More warnings will be added for individual chapters.

This fic contains both fluff and smut in addition to some dark content (Hanma is in a gang after all).

Word Count: 3.1k

A/n: This is my very first fanfic for Tokyo Revengers. Also, I am still not fully caught up with the manga; therefore, some of the characters may be a little ooc. Lastly, italic means it is a flashback.

Also also: This is my first official post on Tumblr, and I am still trying to figure out how to navigate it.

Chapter ONE

It was a fateful day at the park when you were seven years old. A downpour has just passed through the area, allowing for the sun to emerge from the darkened clouds. Intrigued by the wet surroundings, you decided to go to the local park to play on the swing set. That was when a complete stranger approached you from behind. The stranger with short black and blonde hair was the same age as you albeit he was taller than the average seven-year-old kid. Once he is within arms reach, he grabs a handful of mud from the ground.

"Hey!"

The strange kid called for you as you swung by your lonesome. Your attention was then directed at him, turning your face and noticing a shit-eating grin adorning his.

"Who are you?" You asked him, curious and a bit unnerved by his presence.

Upon hearing your question, the boy's grin grew wider and mischief and excitement filled his golden eyes.

"Hanma Shuji! Wanna watch me eat this mud?!"

His response caused a look of disgust to plague your face.

"That is gross!" You shrieked at him. "Don't do that!"

"Too late!"

The kid named Hanma ignored your protests before shoving the handful of mud into his mouth.

"Ewww!" You cry out.

Hanma finishes his earthly meal and then he opens his mouth to show you. You only slightly gag at his gross actions; however, you nonetheless found yourself being charmed by the tall boy.

Almost immediately, Hanma doubled over, vomiting out the mud. Some of the contents nearly getting on you. Instead of running away, you find yourself rubbing Hanma's back as he vomits out the mud he previously ate.

"I told you that was gross." You scold.

"Hell yes, but it was still cool!"

Hanma gleefully smiled despite green flushing his cheeks. You let out giggles seeing his happy state before you promptly agree with his statement.

"Pretty cool actually."

"Yay! We should be friends!" He offers right before he once again doubles over to vomit.

You only watched with half disgust and half intrigue while the tall boy hacks out the rest of the eaten mud. Soon enough, he turns back to you and that was when he noticed a gold necklace around your neck.

"That's a nice necklace!" He compliments, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

"Thanks." You respond. "My name is L/n Y/n by the way."

Excited, Hanma just smiled.

"Awesome! Then we should be friends!"

"Yes. We should." Came your soft reply, happy that you've made your very first friend.

From that day forward, you two were inseparable. Even though you went to a different school than him, he still found a way to meet up with you and you two would walk together while holding hands, eventually arriving at the same park. Hanma often pushed you on the swings, you two slid down the slide together, and your absolute favorite was leaning on Hanma as you sat on top of the monkey bars, watching the beautiful Tokyo sky. Soon enough, it became apparent that Hanma was more than just your best friend. He became your protector.

"LET GO OF ME!"

You screamed at a delinquent kid who had you cornered as he grabbed at your hair. He only laughs at your terrified form while he notices the gold piece of jewelry hanging around your neck.

"That's a cute necklace. Mind if I take it?"

"NO!"

Your feeble arms try pushing the much bigger kid away from you but to no avail. He only grabs the necklace roughly before yanking it off your neck, snapping it into pieces. Disappointed, he only faces you.

"This cheap piece of shit!"

The boy raises his hand and swings it directly at your face. All you could do was shield yourself from the incoming impact however it never came. All you hear is a familiar chuckle and when you open your eyes you notice Shuji Hanma standing right next to the boy while having a strong grip on his arm.

"I'm here now. He won't hurt you again."

Hanma only says before punching the kid in the face, knocking him down. You watch as he proceeds to kick his stomach and face repeatedly. Eventually, you pulled Hanma away from the kid who was now covered in scars and bruises. The both of you watch as the humiliated and terrified bully sprint away from you two. Hanma could only laugh at his retreating form while you are on the verge of tears when you see the broken pieces of your jewelry on the ground. Upset, you kneel down to pick up the necklace, tears pouring from your e/c orbs.

"This was my favorite necklace." You sob.

His face of amusement was quickly replaced by a look of absolute concern as this is the first time seeing you cry. Unsure of what to do, he impulsively wraps his arms around your body allowing you to cry into his chest. Tears soak his t-shirt while he begins to gently rock you as if you were a baby.

"Please don't cry."

He only says however his soft words and warm embrace calmed you down. Your sobs stopped and they did not go unnoticed by your tall friend. Slowly, you separate from his hold, looking up at him with gratitude. Your teared-stained face smiled softly at him.

"Thank you, Shu."

You say to him, causing a blush to form on his cheeks. Heat rises on yours as you realize what you've called him.

"Sorry I-"

"Shu is a cool-ass name!" Hanma happily responds.

You can only giggle at his excitement.

Over the next few years, you two developed a strong bond, but like all good things, it eventually had to end. That end came when you two reached twelve years old and you were told by your parents that they decided to move back to the United States. Your heart is shattered upon hearing the news because that means you will no longer be able to see Hanma.

That morning was one of the worst mornings of your life as you stood with tears in your eyes to bid farewell to the tall boy. A river of tears flows down Shuji's face hearing those final words leave your lips.

"Shu? I don't know when I'll be able to see you again."

Your voice croaks with sadness as Hanma just pats your head.

"It's okay, Shortcake." He responds.

Though you're upset, you cannot help but cringe at the pet name.

"You're still on that?"

"Hell yea. You're short and you love cake, so Shortcake!" He stupidly jokes earning a pained giggle from you.

"You're always so corny when I am upset."

Hanma pulls you into a tight hug.

"It's the only thing I know that can make you smile."

He remarks, rocking you back and forth.

"It was fun while it lasted." You say to him while holding him.

"Yea. It was."

After a minute, you peel away from him. You then reach for something in your pocket. Hanma watches as you pull out pieces of the gold necklace. A bittersweet feeling overtakes his body upon seeing the piece of jewelry.

"Here."

You present one of the broken pieces to him, which he happily takes.

"Wow. Thanks."

"Keep it as something to remember me by."

You command before giving him another hug. The second hug was cut short when you two hear the beeping of the car, signaling you that it was time to leave. Separating from him, you give him one more smile.

"Stay safe out there."

He ruffles your hair while you gave him a nod. Hanma watches with teary eyes as you get into your parent's car before it quickly drives away.

It has been more than a decade since you've last seen and heard from Shuji Hanma. After graduating high school and saving up enough money, you've managed to find a way to move back to Tokyo, Japan. You're now employed at a fancy restaurant serving food to wealthy guests with a satisfied smile on your face.

You've had a long night at the restaurant, and you've decided to relax by running a hot steamy bath as soon as you returned home. You can feel the stress in your body melt away like ice cream on a hot day as you relax in your jacuzzi tub. Nighttime is approaching, so there is a beautiful orange glow radiating in your luxury bathroom. The tension in your muscles eases as you release a calming breath.

"Oh...I almost forgot."

You remark with a giggle while grabbing the bottle of bubble bath soap before pouring the contents into the hot water. In no time, the bubbles form with the help of the working jets pushing water against your body, massaging you in the process. Soon enough, bubbles cover the entire surface of the water and the sweet smell of peach overtakes the bathroom and seeps into your attached bedroom.

You've become completely at ease with the relaxing atmosphere. From all the long hours working at the restaurant, there is no doubt in your mind that you deserve this relaxing time. Just you, the hot and steamy water, and the bubbles.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

You remark with satisfaction in your voice.

You can hear your tv in your bedroom. A news report is being broadcasted and the news anchor speaks with a sense of urgency in his voice. Some of his words go in one of your ears and out the other; however, you vaguely recall him talking about a series of gang-related violence that has been happening around Tokyo lately. You also hear him mention the Kanto Manji Gang which has been something that you've been hearing a lot recently.

"Kanto Manji Gang, huh?"

You only remark before washing up and getting out of the bathtub. Now listening more closely to the news broadcast as you put on your night clothes, the anchor then explains that the local law enforcement is still suspecting that the Kanto Manji Gang is responsible for the sudden outburst of violence. He added that everyone should be extra cautious when going out at night as that's when many of the brutal attacks - sometimes murders - occur.

An unnerving feeling seeps into your body; however, you just brush it off before heading to bed.

The next day is mundane as you finish getting ready for work. Deciding to walk down memory lane, you make your way to the park. You're sitting on the swing while watching the Tokyo sky. The light from the sun above reflects off your dangling gold ear piercings. Slowly swinging back and forth, you check the time on your phone, realizing it is time for you to make your way to your place of employment.

Quickly, you get back onto your feet while pulling the strap of your purse over your shoulder and you start walking out of the park and towards the train station.

Unbeknownst to you, a tall figure lingers in the shadows nearby. He watches you leave as he takes a drag from his cigarette. He only smiles while breathing out a breathy chuckle.

"Long time, no see, Shortcake."

He says while running his fingers through his neck-length black and gold hair.

Arriving at the restaurant you are greeted by your work friend in the employees-only area. You did not get a chance to begin changing into your uniform when your work friend starts to ask you about your plans for the upcoming weekend.

“Nothing but watching tv, why?”

You respond.

“Great! Wanna come to a party with me?” She asks.

“A party?”

You ask your work friend, perplexed by her request as you put your things away in your locker. Shaking your head, you put on your nametag.

“I don’t go out, plus with the craziness that’s going on right now, I’d rather stay inside.”

“Come on, Y/n! Please! The Haitani Brothers are hosting”

Your work friend pleads. Her hands clasp around yours as she starts getting down to her knees.

“Do you know who the Haitani brothers are, Y/n?! The hottest brothers in Tokyo and they host the best parties in the country. So many celebrities and executives attend, and for ONCE I managed to get an invitation!”

“How?”

Came your question as your eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“They have these lotteries and I won two invitations.”

“You only wanna go there just to fuck someone.”

You call out to which your work friend laughs in agreement.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me. What if I get to meet THE Ran Haitani or his equally sexy brother Rindou? You know how much I adore them.”

“Yea. Yea, I know, but I also know they allegedly have ties to the Kanto Man-”

You’re quickly cut off by your friend as she covers your mouth with her palm.

“We don’t utter that name.” She scolds while having a serious look on her face.

You were not going to allow yourself to be persuaded into going to such a place, especially after everything you’ve been hearing about lately. You know there are rumors circling around those Haitani Brothers and their alleged association with the infamous Kanto Manji Gang. You’re adamant about your decision to stay a hundred miles away from that party and your friend noticed it. Realizing there is no way to convince you otherwise, she steps away from you and heaves out a sigh.

“Fine. I’ll ask someone else then.”

You can hear the disappointed tone in her voice as she brushes past you and into the kitchen. You can only shake your head before clocking into your shift.

The night is proceeding as normal. You greet the wealthy guests when they have been sat down at your section and then proceed to take their orders. Every once in a while, you catch a glimpse of your friend smirking in your direction. That smirk is all too familiar as you know she has not fully given up. The only thing you do is ignore her and continue with your night.

Towards the end of your shift, you can feel the atmosphere around the establishment run cold. The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you sense a pair of eyes peering at you as you bring drinks to one of your tables. Looking up, you notice a group of well-dressed men is sat in a private area of the restaurant. One of the men stands out as you make eye contact with him from across the restaurant. Quickly, you look away however you can still sense his set of eyes staring at you.

Men in suits are a very common sight; however, these particular men exude a dangerous aura. Even the guests around you have a look of concern plastered on their faces when they noticed the men.

“They are the--”

One man starts to speak but he is swiftly hushed by the people sitting at his table. It goes without a doubt in your mind about the group of men. Their infamy strikes fear into the hearts of many that it is to the point where people believe that just speaking their name will bring bad luck onto them.

You’re fully aware of all the rumors and hearsay about the gang. Although you are anxious due to being under the same roof, you nevertheless continue working as normal.

Around twenty minutes have passed and there is still a sense of uneasiness in the air. You’re then approached by the manager whose body is shaking with terror.

“Oh wow. You should take a deep breath.”

You say to him in a weak attempt to calm him down. Despite that, he takes your advice, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. It relaxes him just enough for him to give you an all-important task.

“Their food is ready, so I need you to bring it to them.”

Perplexed, you respond:

“But that’s not my section. What happened to--”

“Kosuke had to leave early due to feeling ‘sick’.”

Your manager responds, referring to one of your coworkers who did suddenly go missing. Sighing, you just nod without giving any other response.

The entire restaurant watches as you bring the freshly cooked food over to the questionable men occupying the table in the private section.

“Here’s your food, sirs.”

You approach their table with a smile on your face while the anxiety in your body reaches a nuclear level. Most of the men just look at you with a blank expressions on their faces, and none of them spoke. They just watched as you present them with their food. During that, your attention is caught by one of the men with black and blonde hair. He is the only one in the group who has a chilling smirk on his face.

You attempt to ignore it; however, that is when you notice a familiar piece of jewelry dangling from his ear. That jewelry, the hair color, height, and even the grin plastered on his face eerily reminds you of your childhood best friend. You then notice Sin and Punishment inked on his hands as he grabs at his chopsticks. Seeing that, you recall a specific conversation with said friend about how he wanted to get tattoos.

“You should get Kanji characters because I think they look so cool!”

Came your adolescent voice.

“But I want something related to being a delinquent too.” He responds.

You shake off the brief flashback once you finish serving the meals to the men.

“Enjoy your meals, sirs!”

You say before turning your heels and leaving. The chilling man could only chuckle again while watching you power-walk back into the kitchen.

After that encounter, you feel slightly lightheaded, and you just now notice your heart pumping erratically. Stepping out of the back exit you are met with the open back lot and the cool nighttime breeze.

“Are you okay?!” Your work friend hastily approaches, concerned.

“Yea. I’ll be aight.”

Your response was shaky as you attempt to regain your composure. ‘Was it really who I think it was or is my mind playing tricks on me?’ You internally ask yourself while heaving out a sigh.

“You really need to decompress after tonight.”

Your work friend remarks, and even though you’re not looking at her, you can hear the smirk in her tone.

“Oh shit. Here we go again.” You grumble, turning to face her with a disgruntled look.

“I wonder if there is somewhere you can go, where you can let out some stream, preferably through dancing. You may even have really good cocktails and also meet really sexy men.”

“I can dance and make cocktails at home.”

You stubbornly interject; however, your friend immediately counters your response.

“But do you know any sexy men at home?”

Unable to come up with an answer, you remain silent. A wide smirk peers across your friend’s face when she realizes, she has succeeded in her persuasion.

“I’ll text you later on tonight. We can go shopping tomorrow for our party outfits.”

She says, going back into the restaurant, leaving you feeling defeated and unnerved.

[Feedback and other interactions are always appreciated.]

[randomwriteronline]

@cantankerouscanuck

There were still things that put the Chain on edge.

Surprisingly; because they'd been through some wild stuff, individually and together.

Sudden appearance of a portal? They could handle that. They'd gotten almost used to it, by now. Only almost, but almost.

No, the weird part, which made the nine heroes draw out their swords in the blink of an eye to point their blades at the brand new threat and Skull Kid's pupils thin into slits as they hid behind their larger friends' legs, was that from the strange gateway into who knows what dimension emerged a being they weren't even sure they could have ever dreamed, not even after the biggest, most uncoordinated, stomach-ache worthy supper of their lives.

Its elongated head was bone white, with red eyes and an enormous mouth of teeth; its body seemed at first deathly emaciated beneath the dark mantle, but a more careful look revealed that it was more or less only a skeleton - a metallic one at that, with incomplete hands and sharp feet, similar to the talons of a bird of prey.

Whatever the hell that thing was looked at them nice and long, taking them in one by one.

"Oh," he finally said, clanging his horrible teeth together in dismay: "Oh, you are hideous. Disgusting, even."

"Never look in a mirror then," Four quipped: "You'll get a heart attack."

"A mirror? Why would I do that? Ah, I see, I see, that's an insult, I understand - but you see, you horrible fleshy thing," the stranger replied with no apparent malice in his voice, in a rambling tone, "I have seen myself - well, not since this mask was fused to my head, but I have, and you will have to understand that while I do indeed have a horrendous face not even my own other half could love, you are made entirely of meat. Of flesh. Of organic material. No such thing as a piece of metal on your bodies except for your swords. No masks at all. Not even a glimmer of iron on you - although I do like your fabrics, I do, they'd make for quite a nice cape, and - oh, you do have armor, yes, you do, that you do... You won't mind me taking it all from you once I'm done killing you all, will you?"

The nine of them tightened the grip on their weapons, making them glint in the sunlight.

"I'll take it as a maybe."

Wind glared at him up and down a couple times: "What even are you?"

"A Skakdi, or the half of one, to be more precise," the being answered as if any of that made perfect sense. He turned to Time: "You should be shorter. And less meaty. And less appalling, but only slightly."

"Funny. I don't think we've ever met." the older warrior replied curtly.

"We haven't? Oh, I suppose we would not have, not here. Such a shame, truly. I didn't like that other you at all. I would have hoped not to meet another one in the next place I ended up in."

"Sucks to be you."

"Indeed it sucks."

"And you got a name?" pressed Four a little more rudely than usual. "Or at least half of one?"

The creature paused. His strange hand tapped on his chin pensively, as though he honestly needed to think about it for a couple seconds.

"A name, a name, a name..." he mumbled, until finally he seemed to remember: "Ah! Of course I do, of course. I gave it to me myself, after all - it's Vezon, with a Z, which means double, because I am a double, ripped away from a big blue brute, Vezok, also with a Z--"

"With a K," Sky corrected.

Legend elbowed him.

"What?" Vezon asked.

"Vezok with a K," Hyrule repeated helpfully.

Legend elbowed him as well.

From threatening and unpredictable, their opponent completely shifted his demeanor: now he stood a little hunched, arms limp down his sides, head tilted, face a bit scrunched into a confused expression.

"Yes, I do know Vezok is spelled with a K. My name is Vezon, though."

"You mentioned Vezon with a Z, but Vezok also has a Z." Sky explained.

"Yes, I know that too."

"That's not a difference."

"I'm aware. What is your point?

This time it was Hyrule who clarified: "If you don't want us to call you Vezok, you should specify that Vezon is spelled with an N and Vezok is spelled with a K."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because that's the difference between the two names. It sets them apart."

Vezon seemed floored.

"I did not think about that," he admitted. "That does seem more useful."

"This guy tells us upfront he wants to kill us to loot our corpses and you start arguing with him on spelling?" Warriors took the chance to hiss at his fellow heroes while the creature was distracted.

Sky raised his shoulders defensively: "It made no sense! It was bugging me!"

Wild, who had some amount of brain damage due to caramelizing for about a hundred years in the rebirth oil, decided he had enough experience on the matter to ask the half Skakdi with a hint of genuine concern: "Are you like. Alright?"

"Oh, yes!" the being replied: "I am insane."

That did explain a variety of things.

Skull Kid (who, as they were wont to do, had snuck away from their friends so quietly that their absence had gone completely undetected in order to investigate possibly deadly things on their own) sniffed at Vezon's arm. Based on their furrowed expression and squinted eyes, the scent was less than enjoyable.

The mechanical creature turned to them, and widened his awful grin.

"My dear! You still look the same! Sort of," he croaked out almost happily. His incomplete hand prodded at the wooden head, specifically interested in the mouth area: "You're still non organic. Mostly, I mean, you still have all that horrid plant-life on you, but you're not as immensely horrid as these fellows here... You are much shorter though. And much quieter. And you still don't have a mouth, do you? Ah, such a shame, such a shame, I was hoping in one of these universes you'd have a nice set of teeth for once, you know - maybe I would manage to rip them out of you nice and clean so I can jam them in your jaw once I finally get the chance to pry your skull open and-"

Skull Kid's razor sharp teeth bit down on his palm.

Vezon's head glowed suddenly: he barely had time to shriek a blood-curling A-- that he was already gone, disappearing in the fraction of a second.

The imp's teeth clattered close around the empty air. They looked around, confused.

Nope. The guy wasn't coming back.

"Well," Twilight hollered loudly to break the silence: "Guess that's over."

"Did the Goddesses just think it was getting a little chummy around here? Did they figure we were getting bored and so threw... That, at us?" Four wondered aloud in genuine bewilderment.

"He tastes like metal." Skull Kid informed them. "And he has tendons."

"That's great, Sweet Pea."

"I think I have some in my mouth."

"Ah, fuck-"

"Again?"

"Here, come over here..."

[blondiest]

NEALLO / BLONDIEST

WRITING MASTERPOST

ships i have written for:

hellcheer (eddie/chrissy from stranger things season 4)

meronia (mello/near from death note) [sideblog: @neallo]

this blog is almost entirely SFW, but my writing, which i frequently share on here, does not always fall into that category. minors please do not interact with my mature or explicit fics!

find below a list of fics i have posted, separated by fandom and completion status! (note: hellcheer fics not yet added to this list)

death note fanfiction

complete:

hot soup on a cold day

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 5/5 | words: 15.6k | series [1/2]

“Roger,” Near says urgently, tapping the old man’s shoulder. “Roger, Mello needs another pillow.” Roger gives Near a questioning look, slight disapproval in his eyes “He’s not making me get him one,” Near clarifies. “Mello is asleep right now. He just doesn’t look comfortable, that’s all.” Roger looks like he’s about to protest, so Near adds— “And I have my mask, so I won’t get sick.” The headmaster sighs, pointing down the hallway towards the linen closet. Near retrieves the perfect pillow— not so old as to be sagging, but not so new as to be overly stiff. Once he props Mello’s head up better, gingerly moving the older boy’s head as he sleeps, he finds Roger again. “I think Mello’s room is too cold. Do you have a space heater I could use?” Roger massages his temples. “Ms. Peterson may have one in her classroom,” he replies / “Very well, I’ll ask her. Thank you, Roger.” The white-haired boy shuffles away, determined. He’s distantly aware that he's being a pest to Roger, but it's all in aid of a good cause. Mello is sick. Mello almost never gets sick, and Near is the expert on being sick, so Near is going to make sure Mello is as comfortable as possible.

hot tea on a cold night

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 800 | series [2/2]

Mello is half-asleep when it happens. He’s half-asleep, and he thinks Near is totally asleep, but then the younger boy wriggles in his arms, burrowing closer under the covers, and murmurs: “I love you.”

Minutes to Midnight (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

[part 2 of Time Together]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 3/3 | words: 14.8k

This is the only issue Near has with letting Mello do all their debriefings: it’s easy for Near to stare, undetected and uninterrupted, for a long, long time. In New York, he mitigates this by spreading out on the floor and surrounding himself with toys or cards or dice. Whatever he needs to do to occupy himself. When they’ve travelled for cases before – which isn’t common by any stretch of the imagination – Near has relied on the movements and sounds of their colleagues to pull his attention away instead. The squeak of Rester’s chair, the tapping of Gevanni’s polished shoe, the sound of Lidner shuffling through papers. He uses whatever he can to keep his eyes off Mello. Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, he’s out of luck.

it’s you and me, that’s my whole world

[part 1 of together (always)]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Once she reaches the first floor and steps out of the elevator, Near hears a voice floating down the hall. It’s a woman’s voice, so it must be Lidner, but the pitch of it and the cadence of speech seems painfully similar to the way Mello talked, even without being able to hear the actual words. The closer she gets, the more it sounds like her dead lover, and Near curses how cruel her mind’s tricks are. She has to grit her teeth and breathe in deep to get herself to push through the door into the main office, feeling almost nauseous with grief again already. A blonde woman in a red winter jacket stands with her back to Near, but she turns when the toy in Near’s hand clatters to the ground. Mello’s eyes are tired, underlined by dark circles, but she grins. “Hey, Near.”

i know i’m gonna lose you (but god, i don’t want to)

[part 2 of together (always)]

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.5k

Near’s bedroom— her tidy little suite in her untidy little makeshift headquarters in a high-rise hotel in Tokyo— is lit only by the shine of the city and the glow of the moon. Because the moon is full and because the city is bright, Mello can see her perfectly. Every little hair on her arms and legs catch the light as she sheds her soft, simple bra. The only thing Mello has taken off so far are her gloves. -- In which Mello rings in 2010 with some good old-fashioned lesbian sex and a minor emotional crisis. prequel to it's you and me, that's my whole world.

there's nothing i want but you

[part 1 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k

Though Near doesn’t really mind Mello’s tendency towards jealousy, he also doesn’t understand it. There’s no one in the world Near wants the way he wants Mello, no one who matters the way Mello does— he’s everything to Near. There’s no reason for him to feel jealous of anyone else. Near doesn’t get jealous of anyone else. Until, one day, he does.

nothing hurts like you do

[part 2 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.8k

Mello shoves him against the wall, his free hand moving from Near’s hair to the center of his chest as he holds the gun just inches from his forehead. He gives Near a once-over, quick, and at first Near thinks he hasn’t noticed anything amiss, but then an unkind smile unfurls on his face. “Hands up,” Mello says, grinning manically.

i want to hold you (hostage)

[part 3 of i want to hold you (hostage)]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 21.7k

Rico asks, casual, what Mello will want next, what he’ll aim for after he gets the notebook, and suddenly it’s like the ground has dropped out from underneath him, because the first thing that comes to mind is Near. His stomach sinks as he tries to regain some semblance of composure, fighting off imaginings both tender and cruel, furious with himself for being so weak-minded. Near, he thinks forcefully, is in the past. He isn’t an option for what’s to come— and even if he was, Mello wouldn’t want him. (He wouldn’t.) (He wouldn’t.) (God. He can’t even convince himself anymore.)

my only one, my smoking gun

[part 1 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 4/4 | words: 3.3k

For as long as he can recall, he’s ached over Near. It wasn’t always like this, though; he didn’t realize he wanted Near until it was too late to actually have him. He should be grateful, really, because he’s been able to linger here after death, and that’s more than he deserves, but God, Mello would give anything to kiss him just once.

heaven is a place on earth with you

[part 2 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

There is no blood or body of Christ, no priest and no pews, but it’s here and now that Mello finally rediscovers a long-lost sliver of faith. Hands on Near’s hips, Mello lowers his face and presses his mouth to Near’s soft abdomen. “I love you,” he murmurs, head bowed and eyes shut as if in prayer.

replication in reverse

[part 3 of our love is god]

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

Mello mumbles something into his neck, something to the effect of waiting until Near is ready for him to move, but Near only halfway registers it. Golden hair tickles his nose, and he pictures mitosis— prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase— then imagines cytokinesis in reverse. Two cells pushed together until, somehow, their membranes connect, two phospholipid bilayers self-arranging into one continuous structure, cytoplasms mingling. He swallows thickly and longs for something impossible.

starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights

[part 1 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 930

Near has a nightmare on the flight back to New York after the end of the Kira case; Mello, still tipsy off of the red wine they served in first class, is unexpectedly tender.

fireworks somewhere far away

[part 2 of you got your eyes from the stars]

rating: T | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2k

It’s the fourth of July. Or, rather, it’s still the fourth of July in the United States, which is where they live, but they’re in Madrid at the moment, so technically where they are it’s the fifth. It’s not hard math to figure out what time it is back home— it’s a little before six in the morning here, so it’ll be a little before midnight in New York. Somewhere on the West Coast or in the Rocky Mountains, though, there are fireworks going off. That’s what Near is thinking when Mello kisses her for the first time.

engaged

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.4k

“So, like, I suddenly realized… Near is into me. Like, Near wants me.” He pauses as if to allow this to sink in, looking at Matt like this is still a groundbreaking revelation the second time around when it in fact was not even groundbreaking the first. Near’s crush has been obvious to literally everyone but Mello for the past ten years. “Yes. This surprised you. And also me, because I definitely did not know that Near was into you before you told me fifteen minutes ago.” Mello nods, satisfied, entirely missing Matt’s sarcasm, which might be for the best. “So, naturally, I slept with him.” “Naturally,” Matt says. Mello does not miss the sarcasm this time. “If you’re just going to be a judgmental bitch the whole time, I’m not going to explain it again. You should be smart enough to remember what I fucking said the first time anyway.” “No, yeah, I actually think most well-adjusted people would sleep with their sworn enemies the moment they find out they’re into them.” Matt smiles tightly. “It wasn’t the moment I found out,” Mello says petulantly. “I waited like, four hours.”

it’s friday, i’m in love

rating: M | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.7k

Mello abandons a night out in favor of seeing (and holding and kissing and sleeping beside) Near.

early arrival

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1.5k

It’s one in the morning and Near is wide awake, talking to Mello in hushed tones as the other passengers sleep soundly around them. According to the small screen on the back of the seat in front of him, they’re more than halfway through the flight, but it’s far from almost-over— it will be another three hours before they touch down in London.

Distraction (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.9k

The small pout Near offers in response would, under normal circumstances, result in the rapid undoing of Mello’s resolve. Worse still is that Near has begun writhing in his lap; not quite grinding on him, but shifting his weight in a way that’s troublesome nonetheless. Mello huffs. Near is fully aware of what he’s doing. He knows the effect he has on Mello. He’s teasing him. If that’s how this is going to be, then perhaps Mello will do a little teasing of his own.

wedding doves & leather gloves

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 1k

“Don’t tell me,” Near says, derisive tone tainted by her words wavering. “You want to hear that I’m yours.” Exquisite pain blossoms across her scalp as Mello yanks on her hair. “Don’t be a fucking brat,” Mello hisses. “Answer me. What are you, Near?” “I’m a detective,” she replies flatly. “Just like you are.”

unknown caller

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 3.3k

“What are you wearing?” Near’s brow furrows in confusion. “What I always have worn.” “Mm. It’s summer, so— linen, right?” “Correct.” She wonders, then, if Mello asked the question to prompt Near to ask the same in return. Sometimes people do that. This is something she has learned since Mello left. “What are you wearing?” Near asks politely. “I am wearing,” Mello says, breathy, “black lace. It’s this— this fucking expensive set, you know— nice lingerie. I look good in it.” The description is extremely vague. Near does not know what nice lingerie looks like— she wears the same kind of cotton boyshort underwear every single day and a soft, thin bra. She also does not, honestly, know what Mello’s aim is in telling her this. It seems unlikely that she would call for the first time in five years to gloat about her finery, so there must be some kind of purpose to it, she just— “I’m touching myself,” Mello announces. Near drops the phone.

shot in the dark (collaboration with @empressofthewind)

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 8.2k

Mello’s posture changes, abrupt but liquid-smooth, shoulders squaring and spine straightening as he raises the gun until Near is staring down the barrel of it. Blood rushes in his ears, loud. Mello licks his lips. “Get up.”

something stronger than the drinks in the bar (matt/halle)

rating: M | category: F/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.3k

A former CIA agent and an exonerated felon walk into a hotel. There’s no punchline. They just fuck.

crying only because i’m happy

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 1/1 | words: 575

In which Mello lovingly overwhelms her good girl.

there’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 975

The snow angels are, in all honesty, an excuse, a shameless attempt to get Near alone, to talk with him away from all these fucking people. He didn’t expect so many of their classmates to come back to Wammy’s for the holidays, but maybe he should have— after all, he hates this place, and yet here he is, half-drunk and dragging his ex-rival-turned-ex-something-else out into the cold.

three part harmony

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 2/2 | words: 6.1k

The thing is, whether Mello wants to admit it or not, there’s clearly chemistry between him and Near. It’s not like what he and Matt have with one another; it’s more intense. A little volatile, maybe. It used to be almost painful for Matt to watch, because it made him feel excluded, but he thinks that was probably more a product of his own insecurities than anything else. Now, though... well. Now it kind of turns him on. The first time he realized that, it startled him, because he wasn't just turned on by Mello being in his element, staring intently at Near as the two of them talked over the details of a new case. No. Something about how Near was looking at Mello, the gleam in his eye, the serious set of his jaw— Alright. Matt has a type, okay? He doesn't know why freaky little geniuses do it for him, they just do. Mello probably broke his brain when they lost their virginity to each other in L.A. five years back. It's not Matt’s fault.

untouched

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 2.5k

The storm is the only reason Near is here, and the only reason Mello let him in. That’s what Mello is trying to tell himself, anyway. — In which an old habit turns into something new.

good boy

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/1 | words: 5.3k

Mello’s stare is warm and constant, and the comforting exhilaration of it builds and builds within Near until he feels like he may burst. There is something he wants to say to Mello, but he doesn’t know what it is. Before he can ever say anything at all, though, Mello stands to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says. Before he goes, he gives Near two lists. One for the night. One for the next morning. Near always follows them to the letter. — In which Mello and Near form a dom-sub relationship centered entirely around shared meals and to-do lists.

works in progress:

there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 6/7 | words: 21.6k

“Ah, good morning,” Near says, and solely from the look on his face Mello knows he is missing some key fucking information. “I thought maybe you had left.” Mello shakes his head. He’s somewhat distracted by the fact that he still can’t tell if Near is naked; he’s shirtless, though, and that’s already ten times more of Near’s skin than Mello has ever seen before. Or, it’s more than he can recall seeing, anyways. And now Mello can’t stop staring at his chest. It’s so stupid, because Near is thin and scrawny and all pasty but Mello cannot tear his eyes away anyways— “So—” Mello’s voice fucking cracks as he finally manages to start speaking, a clear sign that some higher power is out to get him. He presses onwards anyways. “So, last night was…” He trails off, not even sure how he wants to finish the sentence, or if he wants to finish it at all. Near brings a pale hand to his hair and idly twirls a strand “Surprising,” Near completes the thought before glancing away. “But… not entirely unpleasant.” — In which Mello wakes up in Near’s bed after a night out and arrives at a wildly incorrect conclusion regarding the events that landed him there.

bury us both

rating: E | category: F/F | chapters: 11/14 | words: 20k

Mello is demonstrably capable of killing, and has perhaps more reason to want Near dead than anyone else on the face of the earth. They were once rivals, and Near knows a fragment of that resentment lingers even now. She is also likely the only person who could successfully bring Mello to justice, so her very existence is a threat to Mello’s, in a sense. If that weren’t enough, there is the fact that Mello could make a fortune, too, were she to kill Near. There are no shortage of people who would pay a handsome sum to see L’s head on a platter. And it would be so simple for her to do it, so easy. She’s had countless opportunities— the two of them alone, Near in all kinds of vulnerable positions, any number of potentially deadly weapons within reach— but she’s never taken one. Despite having every possible motive and every possible chance, Mello has not killed her. On more than one occasion, she’s even protected Near. This is how she knows Mello loves her in her way, even if she has not said it aloud. Even if it isn’t enough to make her stay. -- Mello and Near through the years, in love and in agony.

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more

rating: M | category: F/F | chapters: 3/? | words: 6.3k

“Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?” Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse. “Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases. Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath. “Years,” Mello marvels.

all’s fair in love and war (and this is both)

rating: T | category: M/M | chapters: 3/4 | words: 15.1k

Near has Mello under siege, dragging him into a battle of wits, strategy, and stealth, one that has him in a state of constant vigilance, ever-ready for an attack. With his dignity and his ego on the line, Mello throws himself head-first into psychological warfare against his longtime rival, trying any tactic he can to help him turn the tide in his favor. The game is as complex and mind-bending as four-dimensional chess, and Mello has to think twenty moves ahead just to keep up, but he’ll be damned before losing to Near at this. Or: Near accidentally gaslights Mello into being his boyfriend, and Mello does Olympic-level mental gymnastics in order to read Near’s actions as sinister.

an unusual proposal

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/? | words: 2k

“So,” Mello says. “What do you think?” Near scrutinizes his rival. Mello fidgets with the chain attached to his pants, seemingly anxious but still gravely serious. The proposal is… unconventional, to say the least, and logistically rather complicated— there are at least four-dozen things that could go wrong, and that’s just off the top of his head. It won’t be easy. His decision, though, is easy. He does not want Mello to die, and this, strange as it may be, seems like the best way to protect him. “Yes,” Near says. “I’ll do it.”

love chained

rating: E | category: M/M | chapters: 1/? | words: 4.7k

Against his will, his mind momentarily drifts to Near. He thinks about how Near gets chilled if he isn’t held close enough after he’s been fucked, and how perfectly his body fits against Mello’s own, how comfortable it is to curl around him. It never really bugs him that Near wants to be close after sex. There’s a sort of irresistibility to him, actually, that pulls Mello in— his skin damp and flushed, his breaths uneven, his limbs slack in the aftermath of his orgasm. Near smells kind of nice even when he’s all sweaty, and he makes this happy little sound when Mello’s face finds its way into the crook of his neck, and he’s so quiet and still when he falls asleep that it somehow soothes Mello into slumber, too. God damn it. At the end of the day, this is his problem. He shouldn’t have thoughts this fond about Near; it’s weird, and not at all casual, and if he lets it continue he’s going to completely wreck what they have.

faded to oblivion

rating: E | category: F/M | chapters: 2/? | words: 3.6k

When Near phoned and asked to see him, he had a few vague guesses as to what she might need from him. This was not on the list.

[fortheloveofbuddie]

Hi Caroline!

Share something about: No plot just porn aka the smutty mechanic fic

Please and thank you!

Hi Tanis! 🥰

I’m so glad that you asked honestly because this fic is etched into my brain (yet I haven’t written anything for it, until now). There’s gonna be a lot of heavy flirting and teasing before they get it on tho

For those of you who don’t know the idea, you can find it here 💗

More under cut

Buck turns around on his heel, almost falling over his long legs as the person behind him grabs him by the waist, holding him in place.

He’s a little too in his own head to register it at first, thoughts racing in a million different directions. He’s about to be late for a meeting because his stupid car won’t cooperate with him. He didn’t even know where he was when he called for a tow truck. Well, Texas, he knows that much for sure. He should’ve insisted on getting plane tickets instead of having to drive nearly 300 miles.

The client is important. More important than anything else in Buck’s career so far and he hates it. He doesn’t even like this idiotic job. His skin feels like it’s about to peel of his bones, that’s how much he’s sweating in the tight, navy blue suit that’s clinging to every inch of his body.

“You alright there, darlin’?” The man now standing in front of him says. He’s wearing a dark green t-shirt and black cargo pants, hugging his muscular thighs. Sunkissed skin is peering out from beneath his shirt, small streaks of grease traced across his arms and even a few on his cheek.

The man wipes his hands on a piece of cloth that Buck assumes once was white but now is a testament to his rugged work. Curious dark brown eyes catches his and a grin spreads across his face, almost pearly white teeth appear beneath pink, plush lips.

His beauty catches Buck a little off guard and he glances down his own body, only to realize that his suit now has specks of grease everywhere.

Exactly what I needed today.

Long fingers make it through tussled brown hair and the man, he can only assume that it’s the owner of the auto shop, is looking at him with a smile that speaks for itself.

Buck takes a deep breath before he rubs his wrists, titling his head a little.

How long is too long to not reply to someone talking to you? Especially when they look like that.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” The man chuckles, clearly amused by Buck’s expression.

And apparently this man is psychic too because Buck has suddenly lost the ability to fucking speak. When he finally does, the words pour out of him like a waterfall. And he doesn’t know why.

“I-… yes. I’ve been driving for the past three hours and I have no idea where the hell I am. And I’m about to be late for the most important meeting of my life all because my car is a piece of shit that apparently hates me. And to make things even better, it’s hotter than hell here and I have to be in a suit. I don’t even like suits” Buck takes a deep breath, not knowing why he just put all of that on a stranger.

He frowns, as if surprised by his own words, not even realizing that half of them came out the way that they did.

The mechanic, now with less grease on his hands, places them on Buck’s shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. And Buck doesn’t even mind. A drop dead creature of a man is touching him, somehow soothing him with his firm hands. Normally he wouldn’t accept strangers just touching him but those brown eyes draw him in, even making him chuckle lightly too.

“Okay, darlin’. Why don’t you start by telling me your name? And you should probably take this off” Fingertips make their way to the collar of Buck’s blazer, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he swallows dryly.

Meeting? What meeting?

Buck blinks, mouth falling slightly agape as calloused fingertips brush against his warm skin. “I’m Buck. Do you ask all your customers to get undressed?” He asks, feeling a surge of confidence and… something else rushing throughout his body.

“Buck” The mechanic looks like he’s almost tasting how the word feels on his tongue and he nods slightly, clearly enjoying it a little too much. “I’m Eddie” He introduces himself as he pulls his hands away from Buck’s blazer, shifting his weight from one foot to another before he folds his arms across his chest.

Big, sweaty muscles make their appearance known underneath his shirt and Buck wants nothing more to just sink in his teeth in them, to trace the length of his di-…delts, definitely delts. Nothing else.

“And no, not at all of them, only the attractive ones” A smirk spread across Eddie’s face, clearly proud of his enticing behavior. “Now, Buck, where were we? Something about your car being a piece of shit, huh?” Eddie brushes his fingertips across his upper arm, drawing attention to his tattoo that hides just below the sleeve of his shirt.

He turns around, quick strides taking him to Buck’s car and before Buck has a chance to react, Eddie is inside. The car. Not him. Although the latter sounds much better right now. Or actually, it just sounds much better. Period.

Ask me about my wips 💌

[dykeyuu]

i’m not gonna actually reblog it bc i don’t feel like getting dogpiled but this is the most allistic take i’ve seen in a hot fucking minute like first of all since when are the two options “mind numbing small talk” and “traumadumping your deepest darkest secrets” like there’s a middle ground… there is talking in a meaningful and connected non-small talk way that also isn’t therapy session-level sharing😭 and secondly i cannot fathom on any level how it would be enjoyable to engage in small talk with anyone. like im not “speedrunning” anything i am just having a conversation as a human being and as a human being i do not want to engage in some pre-constructed social ritual that i can barely navigate half the time, that drains me energetically and affords me no sense of connectedness (and usually feels like it alienates me even more). if having a human conversation with someone makes you uncomfortable that’s not my fucking problem. if you don’t understand how one might feel glimpses of connectedness from a conversation with a stranger that is also not my problem— obviously i’m not looking for emotional intimacy with the cashier at the grocery store or whatever but that doesn’t mean that there’s no human connection when we chat for a couple minutes about some life experience or something. connectedness isn’t a sigmoidal response you can find human connection in people you meet once in your whole life and in people that you see once in a while and in people that you’ll never actually be that close to. anyways i think what primarily pissed me off was the all or nothing framing of the issue because it’s a dire misrepresentation of the experiences of at least some of the people op is referring to, and also the phrasing of the post makes it evident that op is painfully allistic and probably unkind to the autistic people in her life.

idk like of course the post feels directed more towards people who are vocal about hating small talk and use it as a way to exit a conversation they don’t want to have but i honestly don’t see a problem with that beyond it being a bit of a social blunder— but i have no problem with people committing social blunders like that because i think that unspoken social rules are confusing and frustratingly difficult to follow 100% of the time. i view small talk as the thing i have to get through to have a normal conversation but there are definitely times when i don’t have the mental energy to deal with it. besides, people in the notes are saying the most vile shit where they’re obviously taking “i don’t like small talk mfs” as code for autistics

like fundamentally i actually agree with op that you can’t just jump right into a breakdown of every trauma you’ve ever endured and that it’s important to be able to engage in a conversation about something other than yourself (and that it’s pretty irritating to ask someone how their day was and have them reply “oh i don’t do small talk”) but i just think the way the argument is presented is really hostile to autistics and misrepresentative of a lot of people who struggle with allistic social rituals

i think this is also an important point to make: when i say small talk i mean “weather’s nice today” type stuff, not like surface level get-to-know-you type conversation or chatting about interests, and i think people tend to have a muddled definition of small talk where anything that isn’t trauma dumping is small talk. i won’t start talking about hyperpolarization/all or nothing thinking in society’s collective perception of the world but know im thinking about it <3