#and it kinda got way too long so i left out some stuff like

[stormyoceans]

I'm sorry cause I have no idea if you already talked about it or if you'd even like to but I'm so in love obsessed with your 100 shows for js and I'm just back from watching titanic so please tell me there's a titanic au anywhere in there cause palakdjufcyhfudjsnapsifhvuvhsk I need it. Jimmy as the rich heir that has to board a ship so he may inherit his father's millions and marry a stranger. who feels trapped and hopeless and sea (I mean come in the NAME ALONE -) who's on the ship by sheer dumb luck with maybe 2 pennies to his name and charcoal on his fingertips and shows Jimmy what it means to be alive and 2 days into the journey the ship fucking sinks. IM INSANE ABOUT IT

(maybe mostly as an excuse to put sea into the white shirt and suspenders look this time around but shhhhhh no one has to know)

I DO NOT HAVE A TITANIC AU IN MY 100 JIMMYSEA SERIES LIST (YET) BUT MAYBE I ACTUALLY NEED TO COME UP WITH AN IDEA FOR IT BECAUSE YOU DO MAKE SOME VERY COMPELLING ARGUMENTS

i've also really been wanting to have a story featuring sea as a painter, so this could fit quite nicely!!!! my only concern about this is that i don't want to just replicate the exact same plot as the movie, i want to try to put a different spin on it, which in this particular case probably means changing the ending because i simply cannot do tragedies IM SORRY OKAY I REALLY AM BUT WE ONLY DO HAPPY ENDINGS IN THIS HOUSE

and i might have an idea for this, but im afraid it's possibly way too overdramatic and kinda soap oper-y, so im gonna need you to be brutally honest and tell me what you think about it

the premise is pretty much the same: it's around the 1920s, and as an only son, jimmy is supposed to inherit the family’s land and marry well, so his father arranges a marriage between him and the daughter of a wealthy english man for trade purposes or something like that. after the wedding the pairing is supposed to live in thailand, so the families agree to travel together to england before the ceremony to.. idk experience both cultures? let the daughter see her country one last time and say goodbye to it? let's say both. on the ship board jimmy, both of his parents with a couple of servants, the woman he's supposed to marry, her brother, and her father

neither jimmy or his future wife are particularly happy about the arrangement, but jimmy is willing to do it because of his sense of duty. it's not like he believes in love, anyway. enter sea, a broke artist who decides to try his luck in england after winning a ticket for the ship. the story does follow the movie from here on out, although i can't see jimmy and sea meeting in the way rose and jack do, just because im imagining a different dynamic between them (as in, i think that they would dislike each other at first and that they would bicker a lot because of their different worldviews, but that's what keeps pulling them in)

ANYWAY. the point is: they meet, they eventually fall in love (it's a long journey from thailand to england, so let's say the sinking doesn't happen after only two days), the brother of the woman jimmy is supposed to marry realizes that there's something between them and tries to frame sea for theft, the ship hits.. SOMETHING (is there a place where there could be icebergs in that route idk), the ship sinks, jimmy comes out of it convinced that sea is dead so he goes on with the marriage, mostly out of guilt because jimmy's father also died

EXCEPT!!!!!!! some years later, after jimmy and her wife finally have a daughter, as a present for the newborn one of their friends hires one of thailand most famous artists to paint a portrait of the family, AND GUESS WHO THAT IS!!!!!!!!! that's right, it's sea!!!!!! he actually survived and did try to find jimmy after recovering, but jimmy was already married by then and the wife's brother saw him and convinced him to let jimmy go for jimmy's own good

so now it's a big mess because jimmy resents sea (first because he thinks sea didn't try to find him, then because sea made the choice for him), and sea resents jimmy (for marrying anyway even if it was all fake), and they're both pretending they have moved on when it's very much not true. and in my head there's also a whole thing about the wife's brother inheriting the family's fortune and splurging it all, so he's actually living on his sister and jimmy's money, which is why he needs them to be together (but his sister is also maybe in love with her handmaid)

ALL THIS TO SAY THAT THE STORY ENDS WITH JIMMYSEA + JIMMY'S WIFE AND HER HANDMAIDEN TOGETHER AND THE FOUR OF THEM BECOMING A BIG FAMILY AND RAISING THE CHILD WHILE THE BROTHER ROTS IN JAIL OKAY BYE

[sytoran]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘

the mother of the kids you babysit is sinfully hot, and she happens to be going through a messy divorce, so, of course, you're gonna do what you can to help out.

🌸 pairing: milf!pregnant!wanda x top!babysitter!gn!reader

🌸 cont: almost smut (18+), major age gap, teasing, flirting, what kind of oneshot would this be if i didn't add love to the lust, pregnancy kink kinda, or just a thing for hot moms in general

🌸 word count: 1.9k

🌸 note: i know i'm supposed to be on break... scold me after

To say you had an unhealthy obsession with the mother of the kids you babysat would be an understatement.

Understated by such a far amount that it dug beyond the trenches of the center of the universe.

Because you were utterly, filthily, encompassingly, sinfully, and completely enthralled by the mere thought of Wanda Maximoff.

She was leaning over the kitchen counter, low-cut shirt emboldening the tantalising cleavage she had, speaking to her kids in that sexy motherly tone that drove you wild.

“Mommy’s gonna be cheering you boys on for your football game tomorrow, alright?”

Wanda was every one of your wet dreams embodied as a breathtaking woman, so utterly gorgeous beyond dictionaried words that you nearly fell to your knees in the presence of her beauty the first time you saw her. 

Especially now, that she was pregnant with her third child.

It took every cell of your willpower to not start drooling when you laid your eyes on her these days: with her glowing features that had aged like fine wine, or her rounded and full breasts, so tight against the seams of her shirt, or her big belly you just longed to caress. 

Sometimes you’d think Wanda felt the same for you.

All the times she would ‘accidentally’ brush her ass against your crotch area when squeezing through a narrow gap, pressing into you for a moment too long to be considered accidental. 

Or the times she would complain to you about her messy divorce with Vision, lamenting about her lawyers and social workers and saying that you were the only one that could calm her down. 

But the two of you were worlds apart, because she paid you to be the babysitter for her kids. That was what was holding you back, from bending her over the kitchen counter every time she brushed passed you with that ass.

“Y/N?” 

Wanda’s sweet voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up guiltily at having been caught staring. When you come to your senses, you’ve realized that the boys have already left for school that day. 

The mother tilts her head to the side with a little grin, and your heart does a flip. “What’re you thinking about that’s got you so distracted, hm?” she asks, propping her head up with a hand while resting her elbow on the counter. 

You clear your throat awkwardly, pushing in some chairs to busy your hands. “Uni stuff,” you reply, the lie slipping through your lips surprisingly easily. “It’s quite stressful, with exam season ‘round the corner.” 

It wasn’t a secret that you were nearly twenty years younger than Wanda, but it made your little forbidden crush all the more thrilling. The way you would take time out of your weekends to spend time with Wanda and the kids, disregarding party invites and forgoing study time. It was probably not a good move, but your horniness seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Mhm, uni was a lifetime ago for me,” Wanda reminisces, lifting her arms up to stretch. Your eyes are shamefully glued to the curve of her belly as her shirt rides up. “You’re so mature for your age, though, Y/N. Wish you were around during my time.” 

“What?” you nearly choke on your words, unsure if you had interpreted her correctly. It was too good to be true – Wanda had never been this forward.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t sell yourself short,” the mother says easily, smiling brightly as if she wasn’t the cause of your burning arousal. “Captain of the football team, eh? You can also cook, clean, fix cars, do gardening, and fix sinks. And you’re good with kids! I bet you have all the girls in uni chasing after you.”

Wanda’s surge of compliments does wonders for your ego, but the only thing you genuinely care about was your availability for her. You’ve had girls in your level lust after you, sure, but Wanda was a secret solace that was different from them all.

“Maybe,” you say cryptically, failing to hide a smirk at the look that washes over Wanda’s face. 

“Do you? Someone from school?” Wanda asks, the teasing lilt in her voice dissipating almost immediately, instead being replaced with something akin to jealousy.

Fuck, you wanted her so bad.

“Hmm, sure,” you tease, liking this cat-and-mouse game you were playing. “She looks a bit like you.”

Wanda can’t seem to keep the annoyance off her face, and it’s adorably funny. And kind of hot, too. “That’s nice. Are you dating her?” 

You laugh, walking up to Wanda to help her with the dishes she was currently unpacking from the dryer. “Nah. Sometimes I think she wants me, but I also think she’s way outta my league.”

‘Way outta my league’ my ass, more like ‘way outta my appropriate age group.’

As Wanda watches you pick up a glass bowl, she feels a surge of emotion well up from inside that causes her to tear up.

Of course, she would never have you, it was just silly to want her babysitter. You had so many younger, fitter, eligible partners, all waiting to have you. Young pretty girls who had problems with the colour of their lipstick, not problems with pregnancy and divorce lawyers and shitty husbands.

When you look back to see Wanda’s state of tears, worry taints your features instantaneously. “My emotions are all over the place because of the pregnancy,” Wanda says between shaky breaths. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

In wordless acknowledgement, you put down the dishes and sweep Wanda off her feet. You lift her from under her back and thighs, firm hands steadying her as you walk up the stairs. Wanda looks up at you, feeling so utterly vulnerable all of a sudden, but you send her a warm smile that simultaneously calms her down and awakes butterflies in her stomach.

She takes the time to brush her hands over your arms, then your neck. You were so strong, so calming, everything she had ever needed. Now, the feeling of your hands so close to where she’d imagined you so many times was a good distraction.

When you reach the bedroom, you move the pillows and set her down gently, all with her arms wrapped around your neck. With a striking realisation, Wanda knows that she’s never felt this safe with anyone ever, so warm and so inviting, and she never wanted to let you go.

You leave for a while to get some things, and reappear in Wanda’s bedroom with a glass of warm water and some painkillers. There are chocolates in the mix, the peanut butter kind that soothes Wanda down immensely.

“You’re too good for me,” Wanda says breathily, the sheen of sweat that had covered her forehead now being tenderly wiped away by you. You shrug plainly. You just wanted to provide for her, take care of her and her kids and all her sexual needs. treat Wanda like the queen she was, nothing at all like the bags of garbage that was her husband.

Before you know it, you lean down to press a kiss against Wanda’s warm forehead in an act of affection. The moment is sweet, and soft, so much like what you’d imagined.

Wanda freezes up for a moment, and you do the same. “Sorry,” you choke out, moving back quickly, but the older woman was quick to grip your forearm and prevent you from escaping.

“Stay.”

Your breath stills in your throat, eyes wide. You’re hovering over Wanda from the side of the bed, while the woman lays down just inches away from you. Her hair is splayed across the pillows, her pupils are blown, and her lips are so close to yours. So, so close.

Time slows down as you tilt your head to meet her lips, chasing that forbidden little paradise you’d been seeking for months. You instinctively place a hand on the swell of her belly, and Wanda shudders at your touch.

She places a hand on the side of your face, fingers skating over your cheekbones, and the electricity that runs through your blood makes you feel more alive than you’d ever been. 

You can feel her warm breath on your lips, tantalising.

You can see her closed eyelids, anticipating.

You can taste that forbidden paradise, addicting.

But the moment is broken like shattered glass when the sound of the doorbell resounds around the house.

“Fuck,” Wanda whispers, jumping into action, scrambling to pull herself together. “It’s my husband. He was gonna come today to collect his shit.” You back away from her, face burning in embarrassment at how excited and desperate you’d been.

“Sorry,” you say awkwardly, watching her check her reflection in the bedroom mirror. “I’ll go now. I won’t bother you anymore.” The sound of keys unlocking the door has you resigning to your fate.

Wanda whips her head around in record time. Only then does she notice your downcast gaze. “Baby,” she croons, coming up to you to cradle your face in her hands. “You know it’s not like that.”

You let out an incoherent grumble, but Wanda cuts you off by pressing her lips against yours in a quick fashion, far too quick for your liking. Nonetheless, you’re left reeling and heart pounding, staring at the older woman wide-eyed.

“I’m divorcing him,” Wanda continues, briskly walking towards the door like she hadn’t just turned your life upside down. “After that, you can have me all to yourself–”

Before Wanda knows what hit her, she’s being pushed against the wall with your lips on hers. You’re quick, and rough, like you’d die without the taste of her tongue. You slide a knee between her big thighs, relentless and stealing her every breath. Wanda moans against you, hands helplessly pinned against the door, her heart beating all too quick.

“Wanda? You there?” A not-so-distant voice calls, then footsteps are heard trudging up the stairs. Spurred on by the movement, you possessively slip a hand up Wanda’s shirt, sliding over her pregnant belly and then to her big breasts, squeezing it in your palm.

“F-fuck,” the mom whimpers, dizzied with your undying fervour. She can feel the wetness in her panties pool, hormones dancing all over the place, her brain screaming at her to let her fuck you right up against the wall and make her cum in front of her husband.

“Tomorrow,” Wanda whispers, as the footsteps edge closer and closer. You pull away, just like that, your hands smoothing over her shirt and resting unnecessarily long on her hardened buds.

Wanda almost laughs in disbelief at your incredible boldness, but after a few seconds the door clicks open and she freezes. 

“What’re you doing?” Vision asks suspiciously, emerging from behind the doorway like a figment of her worst dreams.

Wanda turns her head to look at you, for you’d been standing right there just a moment ago. Now, all that’s left is an empty room, a window wide open, and the howling wind.

“Nothing much,” Wanda replies, turning to Vision with a cryptic smile. “Other than moving on from you, obviously.”

Just two floors down, you’re getting onto your skateboard and whizzing away from the house with your legs shaking in adrenaline. Your blood is pumping and your hands are numb, but this little fantasy of yours leaves your heart soaring higher than it ever had before.

i was too lazy to add the taglist, sorry yall. anyways come and yell at me in my asks rn

read part 2 | main m.list | AO3

[obx-4-life]

Teach me...

Bsf!rafe × inexperienced!reader

Warnings: Mastrubation (fem reader), use of doll, and princess, Rafe being a softie, fingering, virgin reader, inexperienced reader. 18+ MDNI

A/n: Sorry if this is no good, it was rushed and I didn't have time to proofread. Let me know what you think or if you'd want a part two. Loved writing a story for Rafe x reader. Tysm guys <3

Please don't copy my work

(Divider isn't mine, credits to whoever made it <3)

For a while now, every single time you saw your best friend, Rafe, you left with an achy feeling in your lower stomach. You wondered why? How? He's your friend, it's wrong, you can't want him.

Today was particularly difficult to peel your eyes away from his perfectly sculpted muscles as you sat on the beach together. Every touch set your body on fire, growing more and more desperate each time.

You managed to control yourself for those few hours, but when you got home, you could feel your core throbbing, begging for Rafe. You flop down onto your bed, drifting away in your thoughts, how hot your best friend looked when he unintentionally flexed his muscles, licked his bottom lip, smiled at you, gazed into your eyes. You felt like you were constantly being teased.

Without realising it, too busy daydreaming, your fingers had slipped below the hem of your panties, desperate for some sort of relief.

You tried rubbing your clit, using your fingers on your self, but it wasn't enough, you needed more and didn't know what to do about it. So you did what anyone else would do, ask their friend for help. It's just help, he's just my friend, I just trust him enough to show me how to have a good time, just that, nothing more... You try to convince yourself that you don't like Rafe, but how couldn't you, everything about him drew you in, made you want to be his, and his only.

So you text him.

You: "I know this is gonna sound so weird, but I need your help"

Rafe: "what with?"

You: "can't get myself off, and there's no one else I trust enough to talk to about this kinda stuff, and I really need some help right now, Rafe"

Rafe: "ok, ok, I'll be round in 5 minutes, yeah?"

You: "thanks Rafey"

Rafe has a key to your house, so he just walks in. He finds you sprawled out on your bed, your cheeks flushed pink, and a frustrated look on your face.

"Hey Rafe. Thanks for helping me with this"

"Mhm, no problem doll. How'd you want me?"

"Your fingers... please... I don't know how to do it to myself properly, I've never uhm well, you know"

"Finished or fucked?"

"Both" you admit shyly.

Rafe sits down next to you, reassuring you, he begins to whisper things into your ear to prepare you to take his fingers but you quietly mumble you "m'already really wet, Rafey".

He looks up to you, silently asking for you if you're ok with this, when you nod, he pulls down your panties before gently pushing your legs apart a bit further than they already were.

You'd heard Rafe fucking girls before, he was always rough and degrading, but here, now, he was sweet, caring, just like the boy you've been friends with all these years, you were the only person to see his soft side and you were eternally thankful for that.

"Y'ok with this, doll?"

You bite your bottom lip and nod. Rafe drags his long, thick, middle finger along your slit, collecting your juices and nudging his finger against your tight, pink, hole. He gently inserts his digit and you let out a whimper, not used to the feeling. His fingers are much bigger than yours and he's way more skilled at knowing the exact angles to position his fingers at.

"Mhm Rafey, you can move it."

He draws his finger back out before sinking it back into you, your gummy walls tightly clenching around his digit.

"Fuck, princess, you're so tight"

After a while, you get used to the feeling, mewls of pleasure slipping out of your mouth. Rafe notices this and adds a second finger and then proceeds to curl them, immediately finding the sensitive spot that makes you moan almost pornographically.

He repeatedly curls his fingers, hitting that spot each time until your walls flutter around him before you come undone. You orgasm coating his fingers in your juices.

Part 2...?

[pixiesndberries]

HOW DO I GET YOU ALONE?

— Logan Howlett ❞

𖦰 :: summary — remembering her first love after a long time of running away from it.

→ Logan Howlett, Fem!Reader, Jean Grey, Rogue, Kitty Pryde, and more.

♫ :: Alone - Heart (Bad Animals, 1987) — It Must've Been Love - Roxette (It Must've Been Love, 1990)

𖦰 .. warnings — angst; mentions of intimate moment together (18+ themes), strong words, lmk if I forgot something.

> I haven't double checked this, might contain grammatical errors and typos.

𖦰 author's note — LMK IF YOU WANT LOGAN'S POV GUYS 🙏 I kinda felt shitty and I wanted a heart clenching angst, I don't want them to be happy and all of that love story. Probably my longest work ever and I'll have my break for like a day or two (more like 2 years) anyways HAVE FUN POOKIES!

WORD COUNT — 3, 666k words

"Hey, take care of the kids and yourself too." the man mutters underneath his breath as he places his 'best dad in the world' coffee mug in the sink, quickly grabbing himself a napkin to wipe the left residue on his lips — it took her a quick moment to respond since her attention is too focused on putting her children's school lunch in their very own lunch boxes, "yeah, yeah you too." she nods as she wipes her hand in her colourful apron, giving him a glare.

"did you have everything? car keys? the lunch I made you?" she says with a worried yet hurried tone making sure her husband got everything in his hands before leaving the house — "yes, ma'am." he chuckles with a nod, before she could even say something back he walked up to her wrapping his arms around her, planting a kiss on her temples.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

he nodded and left pulls away, calling the kids to have their goodbyes before their father left for work — she turns around and sighs while wiping the bead of sweat forming in her forehead, she then closes the lunchboxes and place it inside the lunch bags.

for the last nine years, this is her daily routine — to be a responsible wife and mother towards her husband and children, to be her children's first teacher and to be her husband's helping hand.

just like her dream, to be wife to somebody.

to a certain someone.

"Mommy!" james yells from his room making her drop what she was doing in panic that something might've happen to her first born son, she rushed upstairs 'till his room just to see him being completely fine — "Mommy, we need to bring old photos of our parents to school for our family tree." he says slightly feeling scared that he might've freaked his mom out for yelling too loud and exaggerated.

she sighs closing her eyes, but then looks at the kid, again trying to be calm as possible not wanting to scold the child because the school bus is going to arrive in ten minutes and he just had the balls to tell her that right now. "Okay, give me a quick moment. Wait downstairs and watch Peter and Julien for me, is that okay?" she says calmly.

"okay, mommy." james nodded as he carries his backpack with him, she created a space so he could get out of his bedroom door — when she heard his foot steps coming from the stairs she closed his bedroom door and made her way to the attic wherein the old and useless stuff was placed.

she pulled the ladder string making the ladder fall on it's own, she then secured it making sure it's stable enough to step on. As soon as it was stable enough she climbed, her head peeking through the attic.

she then spend her last minutes searching for some old boxes with photos, she already obtained her husband's old photos, mainly the one from his school yearbook photos — on the other hand, she couldn't manage to look for hers. She didn't really had much of photos before except for some that are nowhere to be found, she didn't go to school either which means she does have yearbook photos to share.

she already wanted to give up and just hand out the photos that she had in her hands right now, but her eyes landed on this brown wooden box with her brain processing where it could be from, it looks familiar at the same time it doesn't.

she then crouched to grab the box, it was small and almost fragile considering how old it maybe is. She shook the box making sure it has something inside and it did sound like there are things inside but it feels like it's packed with so much things inside.

she already forgot about the ticking of the clock and how close the school bus might be already. She flick the button open, bringing her hand to open the lid.

letters

photographs

and a locket.

it made her stop breathing for a moment, it's like her soul jumped out of her body for a quick mini second as the realization of what this was — she blinked while her fingers lingered into the rough almost fragile papers that contains letters and the photos wherein the colors are slowly fading.

she exhales and attempted to push back the letters and photos all at once in the small box, she's rushing making it unable to push it all at once except if placed neatly, out of frustration she dropped the box making it scattered all around the floor with the other ones flying somewhere in the room — she sighs closing her eyes, only to see a photo of them lying in the floor with a letter behind it.

the poorly written words even brought those memories back too good yet it stings painfully than being tortured by an electrocuting machine — no, she wasn't supposed to sit here and see this all of these things that are supposed to be gone ever since she left that damn roof. She already left what she was many years ago and she's not planning to remember nor come back because she's already contended of what she have right now, this was her dream right?

she felt a bead of tear slowly runs down her cold cheeks as she stare at the photo with her hand holding into it, wanting to just tear it apart or maybe burn it until it's all nothing but ashes that she's soon going to throw away in the lake nearby her house.

hair was short, smile was wide, she's wearing his leather jacket, his hands wrapped around her waist and her lips was attached into his cheeks — the piece of paper crumbled into her hand as she lets out an exhausted sigh and her eyes' blinking trying to avoid wasting tears again.

the same face she had as they were talking that night, the night that absolutely ruined her.

before this whole him meeting jean thing, everything was way too different compared to what situation they're in after him meeting jean — they're almost entwined and it feels like they're the only one who understands each other wether it's about missions or just in general.

birds of a feather or two peas in a pod, that's what professor x calls them, they're almost inseparable — but as times goes by it's more than just friendship.

at some point the tension started being way too compacted that it's almost hard to resist the fact that he couldn't help but to look at her lips everytime she speaks or maybe she couldn't help but to look when he's just there standing topless while fixing something — everything was irresistible.

"I don't know, he just keeps coming at me or something." she shrugs with their bodies next to each other as stares at her drink, the tension was tight and somehow warm — and the fact that Logan is questioning about this random dude who came up to her basically checking her out, it's not helping.

he doesn't want to sound possessive.

she's not his.

she doesn't want to avoid the guy either.

it's not like he's going to get jealous.

he didn't mutter any response but the moment she looked at him, she can hear the mutters inside his head — she knows that she agreed to not read his mind but she couldn't help, her head got ears and it's hearing too well.

"I'm not going with him, not worth my time. Rather, I know someone's better at wasting my time." she mutters underneath her breath quickly looking back at her whiskey as he looks back — he clicked his tongue putting the glass down in the counter, she then looks back making their eyes locked at each other.

it was deep, it was something, what do you call that? mind fucking?

she's sure it's not her telepathy thing that is wanting to pull him into a kiss right now and let him do the things that he wanted to do to her, and Logan is also sure that's it's not only him who's been feeling this close and those gazes and touches didn't have any meaning.

"fuck." she mutters underneath her breath as she holds into the bathroom's towel rail for balance as Logan's teeth leaves marks on her neck — she can't help but to wince and moan lightly as he squeezes her glutes, feeling the tight pressure.

"Logan, it's going to be visible." she sighs as he pulls away with her free hand resting on the back of his head.

"can't find the problem."

fuck, literally.

she pulls him in a passionate kiss, feeling almost like high or euphoric just by this. It was an overwhelming gut rush that she couldn't explain, she can taste the bitterness of the liquor he just had mixing with hers and it's getting her almost feral — "fuck me, Logan." she groans in his ears, like that her request is what he fulfils.

it would be a lie if both of them say everything happened once or twice, it was more than that — they didn't shared just themselves, their body, a kiss but an intimacy that she knew she wouldn't have with anyone else except for Logan.

it wouldn't be the same if it's not Logan.

every night, as they lay together in bed with Logan next to her sleeping his ass off — she couldn't help but to think, what they really are.

sometimes she would just be there and imagine their future together, kids, a nice house, and them being together — a small house down town just perfectly enough for their family, she even promised herself that if they're going to have their first son, it's name is going to be James Howlett Jr.

she's never really been a vocal type of person since from the start, she prefers quiet over anything else in this world — she never once brought the words, "what are we?" or maybe ask him if they're more than just sharing naked bodies at one bed or crashing lips together as the world falls apart around them.

but then she just spends her whole night pondering when's the right time going to be to just ask him if,

if he feels more than just sexual tension or whatever was this.

like, it couldn't be so casual that he'd hug her from behind or be a worrywart everytime she's out of sight during missions — and most of all, friends don't say I love you during sex, right?

she'd always remember when a fortune teller told her that 'you wouldn't know when the universe is going to turn against you' she never believed it not until she came home from a mission along with kitty — as she walk in the halls, she could already hear the familiar voice; his voice.

and jean's voice?

when she was only few steps away from the room where all the noises of the room is coming from, she was fighting with herself wether to just stay and listen or just walk by the room so maybe he'll notice that she's there or maybe just mind her own business, they're just friends right?

she can hear Logan's chuckle as she teases him over something.

she couldn't help but to feel this weird ache in her stomach, she couldn't explain the feeling but it was slowly going up her chest until it reaches her throat — her chest rises she closed her eyes trying to take deep breaths and thinking to just walk away.

she opens her eyes and exhales heavily, almost audible — she walked pass by the room purposely making her steps audible, she didn't even know why she did that.

she walked quickly back to her room and closed the door behind her, then leaning her back into the door with a heavy sigh — why did I do that?

why do I feel like this?

why,

why,

and why's.

that's all she could think of all night, they're just friends right?

the kiss

the way he holds her hand

no, she pushed herself to calm down — Logan can be friends with anyone, what she witnessed is just a friendly conversation so where's the reason to be paranoid?

and they aren't even together.

each night she wasted her time pondering what to do because they are slowly drifting away from each other — as time passes Logan and Jean's relationship are getting tighter, closer, it's like they're sewn together and she's just there.

letting things be,

letting everything go it's way like nothing happened between them.

"are you seriously going to stand there and just watch them?" rogue scoffs while holding a cup of coffee, scooting herself next to her friend who seems to be swimming in her own thoughts — her mind was blank while leaning into the balcony as the stars shines bright, she's well aware of the company that rogue and kitty offered her.

"didn't know you're a masochist now." kitty teased making rogue let out a low chuckle as she sips her coffee — no reaction from her, she just breaths heavily.

the atmosphere was quiet for a moment, only the sound of crickets was audible but she broke it after seconds — "I don't know, if he wanted me in the first place it wouldn't be like this."

"I mean like, the real thing."

rogue and kitty exchanged glances feeling bad for their friend, rogue looked at her for a moment then let's out a heavy sigh.

"you should talk to him, you know, to have a closure of what you two did isn't just games."

"I wish it was that easy." she says looking back at rogue, "I've made numerous attempts but when it's the actual thing and he's there, it's so hard to speak."

rogue and kitty couldn't find the perfect words to help her put her hopes up, they haven't been in her place — she's not asking for it either, she's doing okay and she appreciated the time her friends are putting on her to help her with this.

"if you wouldn't try, you wouldn't know right?" kitty spoke

she understood both of her friends suggestion to what to do, it's easy when you think about it but when you're actually there the aching feeling that slowly crawls up to her throat was getting her,

but she couldn't just sit there and wait because at some point he'll probably never try because he's focused on someone else.

cinnamon girl, is that what she is right now?

he's addicted on something and couldn't bring himself to care about her, anymore?

she wouldn't say that he completely shut her off his life, sometimes when they would run against each other, they would exchange glances but never would say a thing — sometimes during dinner the whole team would talk, then Logan would agree to her words — after missions Logan would check up the other people and she's one of them, but then she'll just smile and nod.

he's there, but not completely there.

she hated how casual it is for him to just walk pass by her, stand next to her like nothing happened, talk to jean as if she wasn't there.

this wasn't them numerous days ago, she's longing for it and it hurts so bad.

she just wanted to run away from it, but with him and jean being in the same roof as hers — it's so hard to find an excuse.

during dinner, she was so quiet as she was eating this whatever food it was — she couldn't even think straight, all of the people that surrounds her are laughing and she's just there drowning herself in a pool filled thoughts.

"right, (y/n)?" rogue chuckles nudging her arms which made her quickly looked around the people in the table, almost feeling like she just woke up in from daydream which made everyone around the table confused and exchange glances.

"yeah, yeah." she nodded awkwardly chuckling looking back at her food, kitty and rogue exchanging looks as if they already know the reason behind her behavior right now.

to fill the awkward atmosphere gambit created a joke making the whole table laugh again as if nothing happened, there she was so low in her food.

she glared around the people making sure their attention wasn't on hers because honestly it was that embarrassing, but then her eyes landed on Logan who quickly looked back.

no shit.

she glared back at her food and continue to finish it off so she could finally leave the table and rest.

on the other hand, Logan looked confused yet seem to already be puzzling the reasons why her behaviors like that right now.

later that night after the dinner, rogue and kitty said their goodnights to her and made their way to their rooms — while she was walking in the hall she was still lost of what's happening around her, she couldn't help but to think, think, and think.

out of nowhere she had this urge to stop walking, and yeah right.

Logan was in the hall too,making his way somewhere she doesn't know.

Logan also stopped his tracks and looked at her, both of their faces blank.

What do I do?

Should I?

she's fighting with herself inside, wether to approach him and talk about it or just once let it go.

her chest was rising heavily, it's visible and the tension right now is almost compacted as if there's no air.

"Logan."

"(y/n)."

both of their names slipped from each's lips on the same time — is he aware?

"can we talk? please." she exhales feeling the aching torns building up her throat once again, almost choking her — Logan nodded, she gave the somewhere private look and he shrugged agreeing with her.

You don't know how long I have wanted, to touch your lips and hold you tight. — You don't know how long I have waited, and I was going to tell you tonight.

they are in the balcony, with the cold wind feeding the almost dry atmosphere — she can't really explain what she felt but it's almost like she's trapped in a box and she's slowly exploding, it's an overwhelming feeling having him here.

she doesn't know how to start and he's just standing there waiting for her to say the words he needed to hear, she gulps and looked at him with her eyes reflecting the bright colors of the stars and moon.

"it's, about us." she finally spoke, her voice almost cracking through the words — she's fighting the urge not to cry right now, her chest just feels so heavy.

she can see in her eyes how Logan reacted when the word us slips from her lips, he knows that what she's talking about and if she's in the right state she would've plucked her mind to get under his to read whatever he's thinking right now.

he didn't respond, "Logan, what am I to you? Are you really going to shut me off like I was someone who you didn't know." she says with her fist tightening into a ball and her voice raising a little — frustration and pain.

"Logan, are you really going to act like this forever, like I wasn't here?" she says with a firm tone.

"are you really going to forget about what we had?"

"those kisses, sweet nothings, touch, and whatever the fuck it is!"

"(y/n)."

"don't fucking call me now, Logan, I am so fucking hurt." she says pointing at his chest out of frustration, she felt like exploding right now.

beads of tears was already slipping in her cheeks, her chest rising continuously.

he was dumbfounded, not being able to find the right words to defend himself — because it was true, it all happened and he couldn't just pretend that it didn't happened.

"tell me, those fucking things that we had is nothing to you!"

"that's not true."

"then why!" she sobs trying her best to keep her voice down, "Logan, why?"

"I don't know."

"what do you mean you don't know?" she sobs again feeling so frustrated, "Logan, I'm sure those things are easy to forget shit."

"if it's just fucking, flirting, comforting to you. Logan to me it's the real fucking thing, what do you call that again? Love?"

she never once wanted to admit that she's in love, she hated love, they both hated love and all this time they both believed that what they did is just nothing, something they can easily forget — sorry for breaking it to him, she fooled herself for thinking it's love.

"I never learned to care until I met you."

"I never learned to love until I met you." she says almost choking from her own spit as tears continuously pouring.

again, Logan couldn't bring himself to speak — it's not like he doesn't care to what's happening right now, he just didn't know this is what she felt all this time. He thought she felt the way he does, all of this are nonsense.

"I thought it was all nothing." he says back, "I thought you and I agreed that we're doing that no strings attached."

"but you said I love you, and I'm sorry clinged to that but I hoped." she quickly responded, "my mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may like me the way that I do was stuck in my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you since." she says with her voice cracking mid sentence.

"I didn't mean to make you feel that way, but you know we both agreed right? that we don't have something."

"and that was my mistake, but you couldn't just say you love me like it was nothing."

she still remembers it perfect in her head, she can still hear how he said it during sex, while they're just together, kissing her forehead and mumbles I love you before mission — it was all nothing?

"I just wished you could've told me before you," she pauses wiping her tears, in fact she couldn't even bring herself to say her name.

"you could've told me that before meeting Jean, because I felt like I'm some kind of toy that you got sicked of playing."

it was nothing but quiet for a few seconds but Logan cutted the silence as he attempted to explain for himself.

"I was the first person Jean got closed with and during that time you were nowhere to be found, maybe you're there but so far."

"I thought you didn't want me anymore."

she did, she did spaced away from him thinking he doesn't her anymore — it's her mistake for not talking this out ever since she felt jealous.

"but that's not a reason to completely shut me off, you could've ended whatever we are doing in a good way so I wouldn't hope anymore that you would still be knocking at my door, to talk to me." she added

they're are both standing at their own points.

she already felt tired at this moment and just wanted to cry her eyes out in her room and Logan was completely lost right now, conflicted between Her and Jean.

she already know that he wouldn't at least try to explain that he once loved her like she did, she's so dumb for even thinking about it.

"then I'm sorry, if that's what you wanted to hear."

why is he making it sound like she's demanding for an apology? she doesn't want to see him anymore, she's so miserable right now.

she sighs, she doesn't even know what to say now everything is messing up with her head, she already said what she have to say to him and it made her chest lighter now — but there's still an open wound in her heart right now.

"I love her, but I appreciated you."

and when she heard those words it felt like the world came crashing to her and continuously slaps her on the face, Logan then turned back, having himself looking back at her before walking way.

as much as she wanted to stop him, she thought it's for the best to let him be — it already happened, it's clear that he didn't want her from the start.

So this is it?

That's it?

Should I be happy that he appreciated me?

Logan could still here muffles and cries that night, he was in his bed trying to shake off the feeling — this weird feeling, he knew that he should be sorry but in the first place he thought both of them doesn't believe in love, he clinged into that.

He'd be lying if he didn't admit he didn't mean to say those words, those sweet nothings, and those love gestures — he was conflicted between the forming feelings for her and the fact that she once admitted that she doesn't believe in love.

so he stopped himself and found Jean, Jean wasn't so scared of showing her love and the slow burning start of their romance — if he knew that they're both in love from the start maybe he wouldn't be here in this bed right now remembering the words she have said.

he was a jerk and he knows that, but he it'll make things tougher if he admitted that he also felt something for her — it would be useless now that him and jean had this thing now, it'll hurt her more.

Last minute regret, he's going to carry this forever.

"I have to find my myself professor, I think this is just not for me." she mutters underneath her breath while looking at the man in front of her, Professor Charles Xavier.

she professor was dumbfounded for her sudden departure with the reason of she felt like what she's doing wasn't really for her — as much as professor x wanted to disagree because of her helpful abilities that put the team together, it's almost like him and her are alike, he couldn't bring himself to stop her.

there's this energy that tells him that she is in agony, a sense of lost, as if she was in grief — he didn't bother to read her mind, it feels too wrong especially when she look like this.

"if that what makes you happy, I am delighted to fully support your decision, I just wanted you to know that the door is open when you wanted to come back, (y/n)." the professor said with a grin on his face, which somehow sent her a sense of comfort.

"I am holding into that." she smiles, but she remembered something before going.

"please don't tell them, the only people who are aware are rogue and kitty, please?"

"as you wish."

and that she traveled where she can, wherever her feet brings her finding the peace that she wanted — she wanted to leave who she was, wanting her old self dead and forgotten.

as much as it hurts her, she wanted to space away not wanting to drown herself once again — maybe she really love him that much that she reached this point.

Logan was her first love, and she knows it's going to take a long time forgetting that face.

she changed everything about her from head to toes, cut and dyed her hair, attempted to find a new style which she successfully did and to forget everything in the past leaving them where they belong.

she found herself in Switzerland, wherein she built a flower shop and when she's not busy she'll be a part time teacher in preschool — with that being said, that's the same place she met her husband.

he always buys flowers in her shop for his mother who was sick, there he learned his interest towards her — Long story short, they got married and shared three children; James, Julien, and Peter.

and ever since she met her husband she forgot about Logan, not even thinking's where he is, how is he doing, if he is still actually alive — she never once think of him, even the school and her friends.

"Mommy! The school bus is here!" when she heard a familiar voice coming from down the attic she quickly stuffed the box and what it contains somewhere that wouldn't be found by any of the people inside this house except her, she wiped her tears and took a deep breath.

"I'm done, hold on." she says before grabbing a random photograph with Logan and tearing it apart quickly making her way down the attic, handing it to James as fast as possible.

"kids!" she calls out as she walk fast guiding the kids out of the house with the big yellow bus waiting outside.

:: additional note — LMK IF YOU WANTED THIS BUT LOGAN'S POV CUZ LIKE I FELT I DID LOGAN DIRTY WITH THIS ONE 🙏 THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC SO FAR 😭 I'M TIRED BYE.

ᯓ★ pixiesndberries 2024 ! i don't allow my work to be share in any platforms without my permission — REBLOGS, LIKES, AND FOLLOW ARE APPRECIATED !

[reidmania]

hi!! i saw you taking request so here is an idea :)

fem!reader and spencer in an established relationship and they really love each other but they get into a fight. they both say things they dont mean so reader rushes out and while driving away she feels sorry and calls spencer but it goes to voicemail. she starts to send him one saying how sorry she is and that she loves him but is cut off with a loud crash. spencer gets the voicemail and hears about her car accident and rushes to hospital, you can end it however you want hahah. im sorry if this is too much but i feel like you are the only one who can do justice to this <33

guilt ridden | spencer reid

summary ; reader and spencer get into a silly argument that ends in hospital trips and a lot of apologises.

warnings; fem reader, established relationships, arguments, cm things, car accidents and hospitals, arguments, spencer being an ass and reader also being an ass which is all forgotten when things get serious, kinda rushed. angst, happish ending, hurt x comfort kindaish.

an; im sorry this took me so long and im sorry if its horrible. i really just wanted to get this one out of the way bc i rlly enjoyed the idea!!

“I’m sorry, I’ll be back in the morning at some point so I don’t want you to worry and I know you will probably be pissed right now and that okay— You should be. I am too, but I am sorry. I didn’t mean it — I shouldn’t have said it but it was just, in the moment I wasn’t thinking.. Im sorry Spence. I love—”

There was the sound of a gasp, then a bang and then it was silent for a minute until the voice message ended itself. The sound sent goosebumps along Spencer’s arms and sweat to build up over the back of his neck as anxiety made its bed in his stomach.

His entire body went cold as he stood in the kitchen — The same place he had been standing when the stupid argument took place before you grabbed your keys and walked out, muttering how if he was that sick of you, you’d get out of his way before the door slammed behind you.

He had thought about following you and telling you to stay but in the moment he was just angry. So angry. Not even entirely at you, just everything.

He had just gotten home from a case after being away for a week — a case where they couldn’t save the victims. It was one that affected Spencer more than he wanted to admit, all he wanted was to come home and shower.

Then he got home and you immediately hugged him and rambled on about how you missed him and normally — any other time he would adore the feeling of your arms around him, he would breathe in your scent and breath it back out before going on about the case.

This time was different, everything was too much. The grasp of your arms made his body tense rather than relax, your scent was suffocating mixed with the smell of the food on the stove and the candle lit in the living room. It was all just too much.

Not because it was you, there was nothing wrong with you. It was just the day built up, and it was too much for him.

So he pushed you away and began his way to the bedroom wordlessly, where he showered, and eventually came back a little more relaxed — only now you were the one in the bad mood.

Which ended in an argument between the two of you, you called him childish and immature, he called you suffocating and needy.

Neither of you meant it.

But that didn’t stop the hurt that seeped in and the tension that grew between the two of you. Until you were shaking your head telling him to go fuck himself, grabbing your keys and walking towards the front door.

Spencer regretted his words almost immediately when the door slammed shut and didn’t open again. He didn’t mean it but he couldn’t bring himself to follow you yet — he needed to calm down and he was sure you did as well.

He didn’t ignore your call, not on purpose. He was unpacking his stuff when his phone rang from where he had left it in the kitchen. Finding it ten minutes later to hear the voice mail you left, well he had never felt a more intense ache in his chest.

Something was wrong, seriously wrong. He tried calling again and again to no avail as the call went straight to voicemail every-time. He texted you as well.

He was in his car moments later, driving to the nearest hospital because if you were anywhere — it would be there. He heard the ambulance sirens on the way and they did nothing but build the tension in between his muscle and bones.

It wasn’t until an hour later of waiting and pacing around in the hospital waiting room that someone came to tell him that you were here — stable, but in a lot of pain.

He had never felt something like this. Every bit of his mind went blank as walked fast towards the room the nurse had directed him to. His knees felt like jelly and he felt sick to his stomach.

That sick didn’t compare to the one he felt when he saw you lying in the hospital bed, fading in and out of consciousness, a doctor by your side. You were bruised and bloodied and Spencer didn’t think he could stand for another minute as his legs carried him towards the chair next to your bed.

“Honey.” His voice came out a gasp.

But all the same concerned and guilty. Your head turned slightly towards the sound of his voice and he was almost sure his heart broke at the sound of pain that left your lips when moving.

“Spence” You were hardly audible, voice small and so quiet, full of hurt. Genuine pain, you were in genuine pain that you wouldn’t have been in if Spencer had just pulled his head in and didn’t act like an absolute idiot.

It was hard to think about the argument now, how it felt like everything at the time and nothing now. His hand reached out for yours as he tried to ignore the tears that burned in the back of his eyes.

“Im so sorry” He mumbled out. It didn’t even begin to describe the amount of guilt he felt burnt into his stomach, and every inch of his body. He felt sick to his stomach and was almost sure he was going to throw up. “Im so sorry- God Im sorry” He couldn’t help the series of apologies that streamed from his lips, still they didn’t even slightly cover the blame he took in his mind.

“Spence” You said again, almost as if you were unable to say or think about anything else. Despite the pain medication that you had been given — everything hurt.

“Im right here— Im right here.” He repeated, moving the chair in closer, he saw a soft sigh leave your lips despite it being so quiet he couldn’t hear it. He saw your eyes closed and for a moment he genuinely felt his heart break and drop, until they opened again.

You squeeze his hand slightly, it was soft and gentle, all the energy you could muster up put into doing so. “I know. Im sorry” You apologised and it hurt Spencer.

It genuinely made him feel pain in his stomach that you were lying in a hospital bed in an abundance of pain and yet — apologising to him for an argument that seemed so insignificant now.

“Don’t.” Spencer shook his head.

“Don’t apologise, I was an ass— I deserved it. you- You didn’t deserve this. God please don’t apologise.” He almost begged.

The words died on your tongue. Whatever you were going to say now a second thought as you realised Spencer was going to drive himself insane with the guilt and blame of this.

“Its not your fault.” You huffed out.

It was enough to sooth a small part of Spencer’s mind, your voice outweighing the one in his head that held him responsible. Your comfort the one he needed. His hand squeezed yours back.

“I love you — So much. You aren’t suffocating or needy in the slightest.” He felt the need to let you know. God if something happened to you and the last thing you’d heard him say was that he thought you were something— anything other than the most important person in his life and the one who he turned to for everything, the one person he truly loved and adored

Well he would never forgive himself

“I love you” You muttered back weekly, shuffling over on the hospital bed despite the pain that coursed through your body in doing so you made room for him. “Lay with me?” You asked.

He huffed something out before shaking his head, standing up and lowering himself onto the hospital bed. He was careful of your injuries and any pain you may be in as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you” He repeated as he placed a soft kiss on the corner of your shoulder. It made a sigh leave your lips, before turning your head to face him.

“I love you.”

[augustinewrites]

your little flower stall is strategically set up a few feet from one of the trendiest restaurants in this area of tokyo. 

it’s a smart spot, one that men like reo can appreciate when he’s already ten minutes late for his date. he’d quite literally just left work, a last minute meeting having forced him to get ready in the back of his car in his haste to arrive somewhat on time. his shirt is untucked and his pants are wrinkled from being left in the trunk for so long.

he winces when he catches his reflection in a window, running a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. he definitely can’t show up empty handed when he’s late and looking like this. 

“good evening,” he greets, a little breathless as he approaches your stall. his eyes scan the bouquets available, looking for any safe picks and frowning when he realizes you’re out of roses. so he shrugs and picks up whatever’s closest. some kind of yellow flower.

“yellow carnations?” you murmur as he digs into his pocket for his wallet, prompting him to glance up at you. “an odd choice.”

“how do you mean?”

“it’s an unusual choice for a date, is all.” 

he raises his brows. “how do you know they’re for a date?”

“oh, come on,” you grin, leaning against the counter. “a handsome guy like you doesn’t have someone to buy flowers for?”

he knows it’s probably just a marketing pitch, but his ego swells nonetheless. “handsome, huh?” 

you simply shrug - tease - and place the carnations back into their bucket to grab a different bouquet. you cut a strip of white ribbon from its spool, winding it around the stems. “go with these instead. if your date knows anything about flowers, these will definitely get you laid.”

reo actually laughs at that, as he strongly doubts the wannabe influencer he’d been set up with knows much about the meanings of flowers, but he’ll take your word for it. he hands you his card, not-so-secretly hoping that you’d caught a glimpse of his name on its surface before you swiped it through your machine.

when you return it to him, he pulls a handful of bills out of his wallet and stuffs them into your tip jar.

“oh,” you start. “that’s too much–” 

he flashes you a smile that’s been called ‘swoon-worthy’ before, waving you off as he tucks his wallet back into his pocket. “don’t worry about it! you’re saving my life here.” 

“your sex life, you mean?” you quip, but your eyes sparkle at his praise as you hand him the bouquet. “well, thank you for your patronage, sir.” 

he quickly dips his head in thanks, a little reluctant as he heads towards the restaurant. 

_____

monday mornings aren’t especially busy for you, as bleary eyed office workers don’t have much need for flowers. 

which is why you’re surprised when the man from last friday starts approaching your stall, holding a cup of what you assume must be coffee. he doesn’t quite look like you remember, from the impeccable cut of his suit to the way his hair is neatly pulled back. he’s even wearing aviators that you’re sure would look ridiculous on anyone else, but for some reason make him look like a movie star. 

he pulls them off with his free hand and hangs them off the pocket of his bag, waving at you like you’re old friends. he looks so earnest and excited that you can’t do much else than blush and raise your hand in response. 

“morning,” he greets once you’re close enough to hear. “this is for you. for last friday. i wasn’t sure what you’d like so i just got their special.” 

he holds out the cup, whose logo you now recognize from the overpriced cafe down the street. you take it, smiling. “i take it your date went well then?”

he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers, shrugging. “sure.” 

“did you come to buy her more flowers?”

“ah…i don’t think i’ll see her again.” 

you perk up at that. just a little. “oh?” 

“yeah,” he sighs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “i, uh, kinda wanna see where things go with someone else.” 

oh, of course there’s someone else. a guy like him probably never has a shortage of options. (and who are you not to capitalise on that?) “maybe some flowers will help.” 

you think there’s something mischievous in his smile. “definitely. what do you recommend?”

_____

reo is running out of places to put his flowers. 

they’re all over his office. they line the entirety of his windowsill and take over the free space on his desk. a small clump of white daisies in an old coffee mug. a single rose in his pen cup. his assistant has to crane her head around a vase of lilies to deliver her reports at the end of each day. 

what can he say? you’re one hell of a salesperson. if anyone had asked him what his favourite flower was before, he’d have no idea what to tell them. in truth, he’d never given much thought to something so impermanent as flowers.  

but you easily become a permanent part of his routine. each day he stops at your stall, utilising the information he’d gathered from the internet just moments before to impress you with an educated floral choice. 

you always smile when you hand him the bouquet, and he wonders how your product isn’t sold out at the end of each day, with a smile as enamouring as yours. 

when his office is overrun by floral accents, he starts bringing them home instead. his neighbours gush about what a great boyfriend he is each time they catch him returning with a new arrangement. they say that whoever he’s coming home to must be a ‘very special someone.’

they don’t know that it’s just nagi, who barely looks up from whatever game he’s playing but comments mildly that he didn’t think reo was a flower guy. 

“everyone’s a flower guy,” he’d quipped as he unwrapped the brand new vase he’d bought to accompany the bouquet of peonies and anemones you’d given him. 

and if nagi noticed he’d come home blushing the day you called him your most important customer, he didn’t say anything.

_____

“hey,” he asks on a particularly slow sunday afternoon. you’re in the process of wrapping - by his request - a bundle of lilacs, which happen to be your favourite flower. “come to lunch with me. i can get us a table—” he points to the restaurant behind you. “—there.” 

you don’t answer right away, allowing yourself a moment to make sure you’ve heard him right. “what would your girlfriend think?”

he looks confused as you hold the lilacs out to him. “girlfriend?”

“yeah…isn’t she the one you’ve been buying all these flowers for?”

he blinks a few times before hanging his head with a chuckle. “no i— i don’t have a girlfriend.”

he doesn’t have a girlfriend. so that would mean…

“you’re asking me out,” you realize, averting your gaze to the counter with all the awkwardness of a kid receiving their first valentine. “i’d love to, but i can’t just close—”

“what would you make in a day?” he blurts. “ideally.” 

“well, ideally i’d be sold out—”

he flips his wallet open and hands you his card. “i’ll take everything then.”

“everything?” you echo. 

he shrugs, shooting you a wink. “what can i say? i’m a flower guy.”

“reo,” you laugh, pushing his card back towards him. “i’m not going to let you pay me to go out with you. just go grab some takeout and come back here. a pretty face like yours is bound to sell.” 

“you’re whoring me out for business?” 

“i’m just being entrepreneurial,” you counter. 

he crosses his arms over his chest, a handsome grin on his face. “alright, but i’ll need to be compensated for my efforts. maybe even with a kiss…”

you roll your eyes (albeit with a smile) as you point at the restaurant. “at least buy me lunch first.”

[tgcg]

this is my element (+ album)

asking me to pick my fave album is like asking an orphan matron to pick her favorite baby boy

thats some weird and cruel circumstances to put upon me i feel like it changes every damn week like a rota

i mean what if my beats misbehave and i gotta put 'em in time out i cant play permanent on that theyre too cute

but yknow what i can show you one thing thats been on my mind lately

===

so when i was a kid we had this skateboard vid by "element skateboards" on DVD

they were this skateboard kit slash apparel company that was all about progressivism and shit and they did these much lauded comp tapes of dudes riding around on their boards and doing the dopest of macho tricks on the shit

flipping it turnways

putting the rock in the house like a big man

we had some of their merch actually

===

so anyways the one we had back then was This Is My Element

released 2007

mostly clips from cali i think and i mean the camerawork is fucking insane on some of those shots

this is gonna sound lame as fuck but i prob spent so many cumulative hours just peelin through the footage and ogling the shit outta it

that framing was tight

===

so you may be asking yourself or me

dave you genuine dicksucker i asked about your fav album not your favorite sordid ass display of smooth dudes hardcore riding and grinding them boards in public dude you have a problem

ok well that wasnt a question first of all so jot that down

but anyways to THAT i say

listen to the music

the whole thing has an original soundtrack of ambient beats

got some abstract hip hop jams, got some more indie stuff, lots of acoustic sampling

HELLA underground

and basically every track minus one is done by sampler beast david p. madson AKA "odd nosdam"

dude is my hero seriously

he is the master of the beat machine i shit you not hes always been kinda my idol on this stuff

aside from bro obviously

===

obviously.

===

anyways he had an E-mu SP-1200 which is a really oldschool sampler invented by dave rossum in the late 80s

revolutionary to the hip hop scene

nosdam had this mega distinct sound to his music that i always wanted to replicate on my own beats

still do

i dont know for sure if he used it on T.I.M.E. but he uses some of the same samples from "vol. 9" which was exclusively SP-1200 so im gonna get a lil j’accuzi on that

it couldve been a boss dr sampler SP-202 though idk

he had one of those

===

so aside from beating the shit out of the pause/resume button to flip my whole cranium at the cinematography or whatever i would also kinda play it on loop to listen to the soundtrack and space out at 2am

the lonely broner seemed to free his mind at night

ok shit broner is good but i didnt mean it like that

that was goofy lets just keep movin

it was the only way i had to listen to it back then but i mean the video is 50 mins long so its basically just an odd nosdam album with accompanying ambient skater sounds and random expletives and whatever

random car sequence

yknow what i dont think people respect enough?

the dude who catches all the "mad stunts yo" on camera

i swear to god at least half the time hes ALSO on a board and that shit is bananas to me

bros gotta be on some whole other level of zen to skate good AND catch all them glamor shots of his fellow skater

thats like an express ticket to the ER imo

the ambulance is already on the scene watching you like an eager crow watches a half dead dog

===

ok gonna go ahead and lay it out flat

not great on a board myself

kinda dogshit at it actually

so maybe im not exactly an arbitrator of skateboard heinousness

but i always kinda liked watching THEM do it i mean who doesnt?

whats an even crazier layer to stack on the "dave" cake is

and dirk told me this because unfortunately it kinda happened post-2009

he would do all these collabs with one of my childhood favorite underground rappers david cohn aka serengeti

surrounded by daves left and right dude even before all the time travel horseshit

thats like

serendipitous as fuck i think!

===

if sburb was just a revolving door of artists called dave that i could bump fists with

instead of other mes in various states of aliveness tending toward extremely dead

i wouldve probably given it something higher than 2 stars on my TGN review

===

so yeah you ask me my favorite album its T.I.M.E. by odd nosdam i guess

bump that shit on a walk your mind will go places unknown to man

[poppy-metal]

moot said sm abt art letting out a moan when he pisses in the morning and now im thinking of having that be your fantasy - wanting art to piss on you - but he's so embarrassed about it, the act so degrading he doesn't know if he can bring himself to do it - but he wants to please you so bad and you look genuinely discouraged when he makes a face when you bring it up, he's quick to reassure you its just something he has to think about more. honestly, he'd be more into you pissing on him - that feels more right, in his eyes. it also kinda brings the curtain down around this shiny image he held of you, this sweet girl who liked missionary sex and holding hands - you were secretly touching yourself to the sound of him pissing into the toilet every morning? he doesn't know what to do with that.

arts done alot to keep patrick out of his relationship with you - hes stingy about it. protective of you - for what, he doesn't know now - some deep rooted worry that you'd want patrick more, like every girl does. but he can't stop thinking about it. and patrick notices him brooding. and art knows - knows patrick is, well. more liberated when it comes to sex than art is. has more experience. is less romantic about the whole thing. so he caves.

"have you ever...... um. has a girl ever wanted you to - you know -" he makes a gesture with his hands, flushing.

"cum on her tits? yeah, loads of tim-"

"no not cum - the other. the other thing. that, uh. comes out."

"piss? you mean piss?"

"yeah."

patrick stares at art long enough for art to squirm. "fuck off. it was a question, alright? forget it."

but patrick is grinning now - "holy shit."

"stop it."

"your girlfriend wants a golden shower?"

"that's disgusting - "

"give me your phone."

"what? no. why?"

"i need to see this chick."

"i introduced you months ago, patrick."

"yeah, and i fucking forgot. hand it over -"

art pretends hes annoyed but he surrenders his phone regardless into patricks outstretched hand. thumbs flying over the keypads to find his gallery. art scratches behind his ear, still blushing, wondering if it was a mistake to bring it up. he feels guilty he basically outted this kink of yours to his friends when its private. he wonders if you tell your friends he likes it when you spit in his mouth. flushes more at the thought. god, is he a shit boyfriend?

patrick lets out a low whistle. "shit - how'd i forget those tits -"

"alright -" art snatches his phone back, pocketing it. "lets just drop it, yeah?"

patrick doesn't drop it though. in fact he has a long conversation with art that evening.

and the next time you're in the college cafě, getting a blueberry scone, you jolt when you feel an arm brush yours. are startled to look up and see patrick zweig already looking down at you. he nudges your shoulder with his. nods to your scone, and then his plate. "I got it."

you're not one to argue with free stuff. patricks loaded anyway, so you nod. you look around him. "is art with you?" he was supposed to meet you for lunch.

"we're going to meet him." patrick pays for your stuff and turns to you, walking backwards into the cafeteria. he jerks his head, "come with me."

you do, hesitantly. as you walk beside him, you catalog him. of course, you know him. but you dont really know him, know him. he's arts best friend, and a bit of a tennis prodigy, if one that might burn out too quickly if he doesn't regulate himself soon.

still. you aren't around him much, you think because arts worried you'll cheat on him if left alone with patrick for too long. and you get patricks appeal - hes tall and athletic - more filled out than art is yet, he has that whole devil may care kind of look to him, mussed up hair. a smirking pink mouth. something about the way he carries himself, too. confident and assured. its..... hot. you can admit that.

but you love are. you're in love with art. and its for the ways that hes opposite to patrick, that you do. hes a golden aura. a beam of sunlight where patrick screams night - he's soft and kind and he cares about you. he thinks about you. he considers you. he's not shy, but he's soft spoken. he listens. he's like a lazy river - or a fluffy cloud.

patrick leads you up the bleachers to one of the outside tennis cours, and you look out - spot art practicing with someone on the other side of the net. he doesn't see either of you yet, and you dont call out to him. you like watching him play. his precision and grace.

you sit near the top row of metal slats and patrick sits one row below you, so he can prop his legs out and spread his arms behind him on the one you're sitting on. "you sit like a third grader." you tell him, which is true. all sprawled out with his big long limbs.

patrick tips his head back to look at you. green eyes spark - he has a water bottle that he tips back and pulls a long swallow from. you dont watch his adams apple bob.

"i need alot of space to air my shit out." he parts his thighs wider as if to cement that statement and you try not to notice the way his shorts slide down his thick tan legs. they bunch all the way nearly down to his crotch.

"classy." you tell him. picking at your muffin as you stare out at art again. when he hits the ball, he jumps. his shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of pale skin and you rub your bottom lip. mouth filling with saliva because you know what that skin tastes like, feels like, under your tongue. like faint salt, and soft toned muscle.

"you'd know all about being classy wouldn't you?"

something about the way he says it - like there's a hidden meaning, makes you glance back down at him. hes still looking at you.

he's rolling his water bottle sideways up and down his thigh, and he looks like he wants to say something else, but it'll make him laugh, so he doesn't.

you squint. "huh?"

one side of his mouth quirks up. he takes another swig from his bottle - looks out over the courts and shrugs.

well, no.

you swat at his shoulder, irritated, he's pulled you in somehow. "what does that mean?"

he shrugs again - holding a mouthful of water. he swishes it from side to side as he looks up at you. swallows it slowly. holds his mostly empty bottle up and taps your knee with the open lid - "just means you're not as innocent as we all thought."

your eyebrows draw together. your stomach does a little flip. you have the distinct feeling he's making fun of you. like hes in on something you're not apart of.

you settle on, "whose we?"

green eyes flit back to the court - you follow and you find art again. he's turned from his opponent, using the end of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. he fishes a sports drink from his bag and downs nearly all of it in one go. as hes wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he turns slightly, casually taking in his surroundings. you can tell the moment he spots you and patrick because he freezes. his wrist still at his lips. he doesn't wave. you dont either.

you look back at patrick. hes still looking out at art.

"you and art...." you start. "you talk about me? together?"

patrick takes his time turning back to look at you. he seems to be communicating something across the distance to art. he says, without looking "uh huh." and when you shove his shoulder with your knee, he finally gives you his full attention. bad idea. something about him - you feel - like prey or something. you dont know. pinned under his gaze. "art tells me everything."

he puts emphasis on everything, and lets that sink in for you, which it does. slowly.

because there's really only one thing you've brought up with art recently that would be anything worth the dramatics of this. you feel your cheeks fill with blood. your gut pitch with shame.

"i -" you look down at your shoes. pink sneakers. with a frog sticker art had given you, because you like frogs and you told him that and so he got you a sticker of one. "um."

"hey, its cool." a warm hand pats your knee. "its why i wanted to talk to you."

your head jerks up. you shy away from his touch. you want to look out for art and signal him over but you dont know what to feel about him talking about that..... with patrick.

"really." patrick says your name, softly this time so you'll look at him. "im not making fun of you." he tongues the inside of his cheek, half smiling. "i think its hot, actually."

you do glance out for art now. he's back in position, but he keeps shooting glances over where you sit. you swallow. "you do?"

"fuck yeah -" he says it with such conviction that you believe him. "the way you look like you read five verses of the bible before bed and sign the cross over your chest before you give head just makes the fact that you want some depraved shit like that fucking sexy."

you shift around on the bench. you feel at once, buoyant with the praise and wrong for liking it so much.

"i dont know if art sees me that way." you fiddle with your fingers. "i think he thinks its gross - that im. weird."

"art is very repressed sexually." patrick states this like he knows this very well. and well, yeah, you cant exactly dispute it, can you. "but he's a fucking freak, trust me. I've seen his porn history."

you want to see his porn history. god. you want to know every depraved undignified thought arts ever had.

"i think that's why i want him to-" you flush. "to do that. because he's so.... good. and i want. i dunno - i guess i want him to act more shameless with me - maybe that weird - like i want to corrupt him or something -"

"it's hot." patrick interrupts. and you look at eachother. and you see a kind of kinship in him, thats in you. a kind of.... love for the depravity. of wanting to introduce people like art to it. "give me your phone."

he takes it from you before you even hand it to him. he fiddles with it, and you take the time to admire all the freckles on his sunkissed cheeks. he slips it back to you. grins.

"what did you do?"

"gave you my number." he stands. shoulders his own bag - caps his waterbottle. "art's gonna chew your ass out in a minute, sorry about that. I'll be in touch, though." and he's bounding down the bleachers before you can say anything, giving art one of those aggressive, half hug, half wrestle moves as he passes.

you blink - startled to realize art has finished up. his bag is over his shoulder and he's making his way up to you. he's worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"did you give patrick your number?"

"he wanted it for notes he forgot to take, i think." you lie. stand up. greet your boyfriend who you want to piss in your mouth and on your tits, with a kiss. "hes a nice guy."

"mm" is all art says.

-

and maybe you should have been more mad that art went behind your back to talk about something you shared in confidence. maybe you would have been, if you hadn't shared something secret with patrick too - a plan of sorts. you'd feel more guilty about it if you weren't so turned on by the thought.

and can you really be mad, when it works out so beautifully. after one of arts matches - where you'd so sweetly been on the sidelines to give art water between his sets. when patrick had rushed him out the door in the morning with no time for a bathroom break.

its almost too perfect the way you both corner him in the locker room after. when hes desperate and about to burst. bladder full and heavy from all the water he'd consumed.

when patrick blocks him and corners him in the shower, twists his arms behind his naked back, you're there in a flash. a look of betrayal flashes in arts eyes, but its quickly replaced by desperation when patrick reaches around him and grips his cock.

the whine he lets out is long and pained. "no - dont -" he gasps.

you cant really be mad at art for going behind your back at all because you aren't sure if he could ever bring himself to do this on his own. you tell him that, with coaxing hands up his trembling thighs. looking up at him in utter adoration as you tongue the pink slit of his cock. "its okay, baby." you tell him. naked and kneeling before him, licking licking licking at his tip, until you coax out a bead of piss, just a drop. and you moan as you close your lips around his head and suck it into your mouth like honey.

art sobs. he knees wobbling with the force to keep his urine from flooding out into your mouth. "stop -" he pants. "i cant hold it it - if you - if you keep - oh god -"

"she said its okay, man." patrick coos. licks the shell of arts ear. his hand comes down to press against arts pelvis. "look at her." art forces himself to. "thats your girlfriend, dude. she's fucking hot - and shes naked on her knees for you in a lockeroom shower after you fucking dominated that match. and all she wants." the heel of patricks hand digs in. "is to soak up all that piss you've been holding onto for her."

another little drop of piss slides down your throat and art gasps. his hands weakly come to press on your head, fingers curling in your hair. hes giving in. looking down at you with near awe in his expression instead of his earlier fear and panic. pink lips parted.

"dont you wanna see her swallow it?" patrick breathes. "fuckin rub it into her tits - you can do anything to her. she's fucking yours man - so why dont you be a man and fucking stake your claim, huh?"

that's what does it.

art groans, eyes nearly rolling back in ecstacy. right before he releases, he knock away patricks hand from his dick, grips himself by the base, and uses his other hand to keep a grip on your hair.

the tip of his cock, flushed and throbbing, rests on your fat bottom lip, "its coming - " he chokes, tightens his grip on your hair, "fucking take it -"

and then it explodes out of him all at once. a thick pulsing stream of hot piss pours into your mouth, half of it going right down your throat, while the other half splashes down your chin, flooding down your chest, between the valley of your breasts.

the moan art lets out if pornographic. his legs weak as jelly as his bladder unloads in a yellow stream that soaks you nearly from head to foot.

it seems to go on forever. both art and patrick seem entranced by the sight. the way you moan and swallow what initially went down your throat. gasp when it hits your chest like it actually feels good.

art feels another part of his brain click on. whir to life.

"s-stick your fucking tits out." he grunts, still whiney. but you listen anyway. pushing your chest out towards them, your nipples hard and on display.

art bites his lip. angles his cock so the rest of his stream splashes wetly over your hard nipples. he trails the rest of it down your stomach and - most blodly - the last of it hits your pussy - you whine when it does.

"of fuck." patrick grunts when he sees it.

when the flow peeders out, you pant like you ran a marathon. buzzing with electricity.

art looks down at you like you're the most beautiful thing hes ever seen in his life. on your knees soaked in his filth.

patrick has to reach down and grip himself.

"c'mere" art calls to you, holding out his arms. you fumble and stumble into them. wet chest smashing into his. he doesn't seem to care. his hands are feverish as they run down your back. cup and squeeze the globes of your ass. he licks into your mouth and you're both moaning into eachother. tongues smacking wetly.

patrick rolls his eyes. turns on the shower to its hottest setting. which is just warm for a lockeroom shower.

"you two freaks come over here," he calls out, stepping into the warm spray. "you both smell like fucking piss."

you giggle against arts mouth.

yeah. maybe you're glad he told your secret after all.

[moonyasnow]

Sleeping Beauty's Tentative Prince.

PROMPT : They kiss you in your sleep

CHARACTERS : Ace, Jack, Malleus, Sebek

CONTENT : fluff and angst, pre-relationship, they are PI-NING, the fae have…strange priorities. or maybe it's just Lilia in particular(Malleus' part), internalized racism (Sebek's part)

—

I do NOT condone doing this in real life to someone who hasn't consented. But this is fiction so fuck it we ball

While you were awake, he could not show the affection to you that he wished he could, caught up in his own fears it might not be reciprocated and could strain your current relationship.

But in sleep, you would never know. In sleep, he could more easily deliberate upon his fondness for you, as much confusion, anxiety, fear, hope and longing as they brought him.

Ace

Ace Trappola portrayed himself as a 'coaster extraordinaire', gliding only where turf is smooth, dancing through life without a care in the world for anything besides goofing off with his friends. Stuff like 'love' and 'romance' wasn't on his radar, deciding he'd rather steer clear of it after an experience dating in middle school that left him feeling so utterly...bored, not really there, as having to live up to some ideal decided by his partner. Was that what all those books and songs and movies was hyping up? He felt lied to! It wasn't fun, and he couldn't understand how his now ex-girlfriend, or anyone else for that matter, really thought of any of that stuff as desirable!

The 'ghost bride', Eliza, was really just a personification of everything that made him want to steer clear of it. After she finally decided to shuffle off this mortal coil for good, along with her equally ghost— to Idia's utter relief— husband, too tired from all that fighting to really feel like it was worth it, he decided he'd rather crash at Ramshackle than walk all the way back to Heartlsabyul.

You declared you'd make it a sleepover, which was why he was laying in a sleeping bag on the musty living room floor of the ancient, decrepit house, creaking and groaning from the wind and its own whims. You laid next to him, on a mattress(unfair of you not to bring a second, by the way), sound asleep. He was kinda envious of you in that moment, you know?

Despite how dead tired he was after not only all the battle stuff but cleaning up the cafeteria on top of it, sleep just wouldn't bless him with its embrace. And desptire how much he didn't want to, especially not after all the other first-years— including Deuce, the bastard— made fun of him for the thought he'd already put into it...he found the topic of 'love' spinning around his head again.

He sure as hell didn't want the kind that Eliza'd idealized it to be. The others claimed that he, out of all the other suitors, did at least seem to know what he wanted. "...someone you can laugh with, and cry with...someone who'll stick with you through all the hard times..." He felt flustered and like an idiot recalling he'd said that for the entire room to hear, even more so due to the fact they'd caught on he was actually being genuine.

Then for some inexplicable reason he got an urge to turn his head to look at you. You looked about as tired as he felt. By that meaning you looked terrible. Or so he'd say if you were asking him why he was staring. Why was he staring? Probably because he was concerned. Just a little bit. Crowley already threw enough shit your way on the regular anyway, now you have to deal with this, too. And he never understood why you still tried so hard.

You, while not even having magic, had still given it your all during those battles, throwing rocks and twigs and even a goddamn wall-mounted candlestick— or well, that used to be wall-mounted, though apparently not as well as anyone thought they were if you could just pull it off the wall— at the ghosts. It phased right through them, obviously, but it'd annoyed and distracted them enough to make his and the others' job a whole lot easier. It was long past time for him to take back everything he said about you the first day you met by the school's Main Street.

You really had become an all-in-one janitor, photographer, therapist, and law-enforcer in one in the time you'd been here. It really wasn't fair. But you'd once told him it was easier since you had him and the rest of the braincell squad around. And he had to admit, it was the same for him. When it came to you in particular. Sure, he liked Deuce, and maybe Grim too just a little bit, but having you there was...special. He's not sure how he would've dealt with the incident at that one absolutely horrible unbirthday party and his Housewarden's total freak-out if you weren't there...or if, before it, he'd have had to spend the night in Ramshackle all alone with just the ghosts for company.

His eyes widened. Wait... He started to feel warm from top to bottom. He didn't mean it like— you weren't— y-you were just buds! You know? Friends. Just friends. And then he wanted to strangle someone when he realized those words tasted bitter in his mouth. Getting up on his elbow and looking at your sleeping face he couldn't place every thought whirring through his head. He thought you were kinda pretty or whatever, sure, but it's not weird to think your friend is pretty! And maybe...

No. Try as he might, every new excuse he came up with for why that couldn't be the case was just that; an excuse. He liked you. As more than just a friend. Maybe he kept trying to deny it because of how different this felt to his middle-school girlfriend. He thought she was cute and all, but he felt so alone when he was with her. Like she was seeing some boyfriend-shaped cut-out in place of him. He never felt alone when he was with you. And he sure as hell would never take a whole day's worth of public transport to school on a break for anyone else.

But it's not like he was planning for this. It felt strange, the way you went from 'best friend' to 'best friend I wanna be with' in his mind. Because, those categories weren't supposed to intersect, were they? Or could they? It just felt weird.

…But when he got past his initial shock, he realized that, thinking of you that way felt…natural. It was strange. Strange that it wasn't something he had to psyche himself up for. Maybe he was more like Eliza than he initially realized, in that way. Not noticing that kind of love when it was right in front of him. Maybe he'd also gotten caught up in that idealization of love, never realizing before that love actually could be with someone like that…someone he cherished like a best friend.

Laying down again and turning his whole body to face you properly, he stared at you. You really were pretty. Not in that way where you see someone and can just tell whether they're pretty or not. Not in the attraction kinda way either. Well, there might have been a little bit of that too. But mostly, there was just something...special, about you.

About your face, and your eyes, hair, shoulders, nose, chin, neck, hands and just— everything. Just looking at you made him feel warm. It usually did. But especially in that moment. It was weird, how just thinking those things seemed to jump-start his heart like some old motor, because now it was racing in the night. He found himself leaning closer, until his breath fanned at your lips. Looking at you from such a close proximity was weird. Sure, he might wrap an arm around or lean it on your shoulder pretty often, and do things like flick your forehead or your nose to see you pouting at him, but you'd never really been this close before. The tips of your noses were touching.

He was planning on moving away. He really was. But then you shifted in your sleep and your lips brushed softly against his.

As quickly as he could, he almost leapt backwards and turned his back to you and hoped to the Seven you didn't realize. Not then, not the next morning— not ever.

He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, and calm his racing heartbeat.

Sadly for him, he laid awake all night thinking about it and didn't get a lick of sleep.

He kinda hoped he could do it again one day. With you awake this time, of course. Yeah...with you, it might not be so bad. The Underworld would freeze over before he ever told you that though. Well, that was hyperbole. He just wanted to make sure you wouldn't like…laugh at him for it, or something.

…Maybe accidents weren't so bad sometimes.

Jack

Having grown up knowing that his parents, his grandparents, and most likely their parents and grandparents too, were mated for life— that they found each other and that was it— Jack Howl had always been sure that's how it would go for him too. That when he found 'the one' everything would be easy, and make sense instantly. And when he started to feel a strange new pressure in his chest around you, a desire to protect you more than even his other friends, he was sure that this was it. Yet something happened which he hadn't considered.

The person he fell for wasn't another wolf beastperson, nor any other kind of beastperson or mer who mated for life. You were human. And humans very much did not mate for life, as much as some might claim they would like to. For the first time he started to feel a bit of doubt about his future life plan. He was sure you were 'the one' for him… But now he had to start to contest with the fact that, he might not be 'the one' in your eyes.

So, he thought…he would try to court you in some way. Make it clear he could be a good partner for you.

During the second night at Vargas' training camp, when Grim hadn't returned from going to get blankets with the others, you had become so worried that you tried to run off to go looking for him. And Jack felt like he had no choice but to go with you; he would never risk you running into the shadow while alone. It definitely wasn't the smartest decision, and he had tried to stop you. But you had argued against him, insisting you wouldn't just leave Grim behind, no matter how much danger it put you in. That was something he had always respected about you; you always looked out for those in you pack. And he agreed to go with; he'd do the same for you— and then some— if you went missing, after all. But an hour of walking later, and you both realized that…you were lost. Now, not only was Grim gone, but those who remained at camp would think you both were gone, too.

You two had been walking for hours searching for the way back to no avail, when you had given up, swaying on your feet, saying you couldn't take another step. His eyes shot up in surprise, having been too caught up in getting you both back to camp to consider you didn't have anywhere near his levels of stamina, his ears flattening against his head with both guilt and a bit of embarrassment— guilt at not having realized you couldn't keep up, and embarrassment at not remembering the way back well enough. More like shame, really. He felt sure camp was the safest place for both of you right now, yet in his haste to follow you to make sure nothing jumped out at you, he'd neglected to keep good enough track of the scents around you both to be able to lead the way back. That wasn't how a good partner was supposed to behave! He was supposed to be able to make sure you were safe.

You were the one to suggest, with the night being so cold, that you sleep close to one another. He balked at the suggestion once it left your mouth, trying to hide the furious blush he knew would overtake his face if he let it— letting you see him like that would be way too embarrassing to consider; he was supposed to be cool! So you'd know he could protect you! Not act like some lovesi— o-overly affectionate— puppy! But when you reasoned that it was to conserve heat, to make sure neither of you ever became cold enough for it to be truly dangerous, he had no argument against it, and so was forced to go along with it. He didn't want you to freeze, after all. And no, don't misunderstand him! His tail did NOT just start wagging! And if it did, i-it was just nerves! N-not at being close to you— the shadow! NOT TO SAY HE COULDN'T TAKE ON THE SHADOW IF IT APPEARED—

He had to force himself to keep quiet, lest he put his foot in his mouth again.

He'd assumed you would just be sleeping next to each other. So when you slotted yourself right in his arms, your head on his chest, he froze in place, begging for dear life that you weren't hearing the way his heart was now racing. No matter if you did or not, you soon fell asleep. But Jack, like a protective guard dog (a comparison he didn't like but couldn't exactly deny at this moment) stayed awake for a while longer to make sure the area was truly safe, leading to him becoming lost in his thoughts.

He was confused why you were here at all. You weren't even part of a sports club! Or any club at all, for that matter; running errands for Crowley ate up too much of your time for you to be able to join one. But you were still here. You had claimed it was better than spending that time in school figuring out a way for a magicless student to succeed in magic assignments, Grim not often being fond of cooperating if there was no tuna involved, much to your frequent frustration. But it still really didn't sit right with him that you got caught up in all this when you were only meant to be there to take pictures. He thought Crowley should definitely compensate you for this, since you got caught in danger due to him making you go along with them. But by now he'd wised up enough to realize that was never going to happen. The thought began to really get on his nerves.

It was insane, how Crowley treated you like some slave with no mind or will of your own. Even worse, a disposable one he kept throwing at problems— dangerous problems...he still wasn't over how close you'd come to being seriously injured in the fight at the Mostro Lounge— that should have been CROWLEY'S job to handle. He almost began to growl just thinking about it. The mere thought of you, his m— friend...his good...friend...being hurt in the slightest scared him. Enough that his arms unconsciously tightened around you. The scent of your hair, a reminder you were currently not in danger, put him at ease. He exhaled in silent relief.

…If…

After you both graduate, if he asked you to come with him back to his home in the Shaftlands, what would you say? He'd be able to keep you safe. Make sure you never had to live like this again. What with your status as not being from this world and thus having no legal identifying paperwork, getting a job would probably be hard for you. So he'd get a job and support both you and him. And Grim, of course— if Grim was your pack, he was Jack's, too. He was already sure his family would love you, and welcome you with open arms. And then one day down the line he'd—

He couldn't bring himself to finish his thought, face having grown far too red. But his tail wouldn't stop wagging. He might have thought of it before, but that was when you weren't literally sleeping in his arms. You being so close just...made everything feel too real.

He took a deep breath to clear his mind. What mattered right now was that he would keep you safe. Take care of you. Now…and hopefully, you'd allow him to do the same in the future.

But the fuzzy, excited feelings brought on by the thought he didn't finish didn't leave him, them and your scent lulling him further into a comfortable sleepiness. So close to sleep and overflowing with affection, he didn't even notice, let alone have the sense to stop himself, from placing a kiss to your forehead, snuggling up closer to you to make sure you kept warm, unconsciously smiling against the top of your head as he, too, was claimed by sleep.

It just felt so...right, to hold you.

…The next morning you were confused by why he refused to look you in the eye.

Malleus

Malleus Draconia, crown prince and heir to the fae Kingdom of Briar Valley, was used to spending his time alone. Used to having only his guards and mentor for company. Used to spending hours wandering through empty stone hallways and rigorously up-kept gardens where none but he, his beloved gargoyles, and the occasional critter dared wander.

Perhaps that was because of him.

Though he came to Night Raven College to 'broaden his horizons', after the first few months or so of classes in which he was left to work alone even on group projects, smelling the fear of his peers in the air, he had all but given up on finding an actual friend. Someone who would stay by his side not out of duty or necessity, but purely out of desire to.

The way you haphazardly seemed to stumble into his life and make a home for yourself in his hollow ruin of solitude had still not caught up with him, even months later.

It was late in the evening, the old decrepit clock in Ramshackle had just struck 12. You were on the couch, leaning against him, asleep on his shoulder as he read a book. Or at least, he had been trying to. For all of five minutes. The soft pressure of your body leaning against his arm had made him lose all focus for anything not related to you. So here he was, staring like a fool at your sleeping figure.

That you, so small and fragile compared to him, were not afraid of the dragon by your side— the horned beast with power enough to destroy most of the school with less than a snap of his fingers— never ceased to amaze him. Yet it was on nights like these, when you were too tired to go for your usual evening walk with him yet still wanted him near, that left him most awestruck. Not only did you say, with your own words, that you wished to be by his side despite your lack of energy…you trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Leaning against his shoulder, no less. It intoxicated his heart with pride, peace and longing in equal measure.

Yet, it only occurred to him the first time it happened that he had never seen another's sleeping face before. At least, not with their knowledge. He had seen you resting through your window on his late-night strolls before. Yet this was different. You allowed him this. If he did not already think you were the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever bore witness to, he did once he saw the gentle, peaceful expression on your face so close. He couldn't help but liken you to the sleeping princess in the old story of the Thorn Witch from his homeland. Sleeping so peacefully…all whilst leaning against a dragon.

His heart ached with feelings he had no words for as he stared at your face, streaked with moonlight, book long since forgotten. Cupping your cheek, he cursed the leather gloves keeping him from truly feeling your skin. In the back of his mind he harbored a fear he dare not put into words: that were he to feel your skin against his, it would be a point of no return, and he would never be able to go without it again. A curse to one such as him, who— his logic was much too aware for his liking— would be forced to grow accustomed to losing the touch of all things in time.

Yet his emotions, not bound by logic of any kind, wondered if you would like that. If him discarding his inhibitions and letting his gloveless hands roam every inch of your body would delight you the same way the mere thought did him. One part of him told him that 'yes, you would'; he was the fae prince, one of the most talented mages alive. He could keep you safe, give you anything you could ever desire. Yet another part of him said 'perhaps not' with barely any hesitation. He was a dragon, feared by man and fae alike for his power which could wipe out whole nations, should he desire to. The conflicting answers left him with a confusing sense of whiplash, not knowing which to trust. Yet, since you were not, unlike many, afraid of him, he found himself hoping your answer would fall more in line with the former…

Heart filled with trepidation and yearning in conflict with one another, he searched his mind for that always comforting anchor of knowledge that was Lilia's words. All that came to mind regarding the matter of kisses was that 'it was not to be done once the sun had set', which to him was good enough reason to force himself to abstain. Or at least, so he'd hoped. He wished to listen to his mentor's words, clung to them when his own young mind felt overcome with what he wished to do instead of what he ought to do…yet found he could not. At least, not fully.

Holding your warm hand in his which was cold beneath his gloves, the heat still slowly seeping from yours to his, yours appeared so small. As Malleus resisted the urge to rub his nose against yours, he felt his pulse beat in his throat. A metaphorical fire lit in the candle of his heart, flaring higher as he slowly neared your lips.

At the last second he managed to force himself to place his gloved hand gently over your mouth, placing a light, chaste kiss to the back of it.

He yearned to traverse further, to not have this self-imposed barrier in his way, to truly know if your lips were as soft as he imagined them to be, if they tasted as sweet. It was difficult to draw a line for himself. But, despite pouting through it, he still did. Once more recalling Lilia's words of wisdom: it would be impolite to steal your first kiss— or at least, so Malleus assumed it was— without your knowledge, after all.

After that he made up his mind to keep himself in check. That was enough for tonight, he thought and tried to return to his book. But his thoughts never stopped drifting to you.

It equally unsettled and enthralled him.

Sebek

The son of a human father and a fae mother— a fae mother who went entirely against the norms and expectations of her people and culture to marry a human man, a man whose people had hurt hers, and whose union with her had barely been accepted, much less understood— to say that Sebek Ziegvolt feels many conflicting emotions interacting with humans would be an understatement.

He, having seen the scorn his parents' union brought his mother, had vowed as a young child that he would 'never be stupid enough to choose to marry a human'. For he, at his young age, fully believed it was something he had control over. And he still did well into his teens, Lilia's explanation that love cared not for what people had decided, while he admired, revered and respected the older fae greatly, was still not quite enough to persuade him that there could ever be a possibility of him, Sebek Ziegvolt, proud knight of the Lord Malleus Draconia, deigning to fall for a mere human. He couldn’t understand the appeal in any way, shape or form. Human were weak. Fae— he— were strong.

What use had the strong for the weak?

But when you saw him freezing in the cold winter air, you wrapped your scarf around him. He, predictably, began to chastise you, claiming through a runny nose that as a human you were weaker than he and that he could handle this cold, and would not lose to mere weather— which was evidently not the case, as his own words were cut off by a big sneeze, to which you simply laughed. What nerve you had, he thought, for you, a mere human, to laugh at him, Sebek Ziegvolt. To laugh at his weakness! But his thoughts stopped dead in their tracks when you removed the hand covering your mouth and he saw your smile. It was...dazzling. A depiction of beauty which he had only heard described before.

In his daze he almost missed you taking a napkin out of your pocket and wiping away the mess under his nose, still smiling at him the same way.

Though he chided you, claiming to not need it, he was powerless to stop the stutter in his heart at your gesture. The tip of your finger grazed his jaw for a fraction of a second as you withdrew your hands, and it haunted his dreams for weeks. And the gentle smile on your face, showing, as far as he knew, nothing but sincere care for him, was enough to make him feel as though he didn't need the scarf at all.

It was...dizzying.

He saw his displays of weakness as just that: weakness, not vulnerability. In his eyes he must not have either to be able to be a good, no, even passable knight to his Young Master! Deep down he knew his Lord Malleus was already strong enough to not really need a knight. But he could never shake the worry it was on him, that he didn't need a knight because Sebek wasn't knightly enough. That was why he worked so hard. His position, with Lord Malleus, in life, had to mean something. Make him mean something.

But you never seemed to care for how he thought of it, showing him small gestures of kindness over and over again. In time he found he had begun to expect those small gestures, despite how he might still had insisted they were unnecessary. That you continued them despite his insistence...warmed him, just like when you lent him your scarf— which he always returned to you each day, knowing you would wrap it around him again the next.

At first he was sure you must have bewitched him, cast some manner of curse upon him— forgetting the fact that you, as magicless, would not be capable of such a feat— for he could find no other logical explanation for what the feeling of full-body lightness and heart-stuttering you brought upon him could be. At least...none he wanted to listen to; none that made sense to him.

You were human.

What he could never let himself be.

And he, the knight of Malleus Draconia, couldn't make the same strange choice as his mother, no matter how highly he respected her.

Yet whether he wished to or not, they'd taken hold of him, struck his heart like lightning, leaving a permanent mark of you on his very being.

It was shortly after that incident that he had, one evening, come to Ramshackle in search of Lord Malleus, and instead found you on one of the Dorm's benches, looking moments away from sleep. For a moment, thoughts of his search for his liege left his mind. When he asked what you were doing out alone this late at night, interrogating you like you'd broken some kind of curfew Ramshackle didn't have, you smiled and said you were waiting for Malleus to go on your usual evening stroll with him. Something about that gave him a sour feeling in his chest. For you or for Lord Malleus, he couldn't say.

Huffing, he said he might as well wait with you. You said nothing at that, just smiled and patted the spot next to you. Reluctantly, he did.

You sat in silence for a while, him trying to ignore the way so many feelings he couldn't figure out the meanings of stung at his chest. He was so caught up in his mind that it was only once he'd finally figured out something to say to you and took a deep breath that he realized his shoulder felt heavier, and he looked over to see you leaning against it, sound asleep. He was about to begin to scold you for falling asleep while waiting for his Young Master! It was bad enough his Lord Malleus had to endure the tardiness of Silver on acount of the latter's propensity for falling into slumber at any given moment! But when he looked at your face again, the words, for once, froze in his throat and fizzled away.

The way your mouth was left slightly agape, leaving a small trail of drool running down your chin, really should have appalled him, been seen as something pathetic, left him feeling distaste of some kind. But when you'd still smiled at him when he had snot running from his nose, how could he?

Maybe it was fine to…let you sleep. You didn't fall asleep like this often anyway…

As gently as he could, so as not to wake you, he lifted your body up and sat you in his lap, shifting and angling himself to allow your legs to still hang over the edge of the bench, now exchanged for his legs. He looked up at your sleeping expression in reverence, bringing his thumb to wipe away your drool. In his other hand he took yours, which had been hanging limply at your side. With his other arm around your waist to keep you from tipping over, he leaned his head, cheeks burning, against your shoulder, yours falling atop his as he did.

Closing his eyes, he pressed a tender kiss to the back of your hand.

His heart fluttered with a novel tenderness...yet not one he found he minded. He would guard you as you slept. Care for you in your 'weakness', just as you had him in his.

To love a human might not be something he was yet capable of. But, if you would extend to him the same, not a half-fae, but him...

...he might be able to love you.

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

First of all I just want to say: Thank you thank you thank you SO MUCH to everyone who engaged at all with my last (and first) writing post! > <

Knowing people like my writing was such a massive motivation-boost to me! I tend to struggle with perfectionism and feeling like my writing isn't good enough by my own standards, so all that stuff is very, very appreciated!

I also wanna say sorry if any of them seemed OOC— aside from Malleus, I don't feel as confident in writing these characters as I do for the characters in my first post, since I don't know them as well yet. A big thank you to @yuurei20 for their TWST character fact sheets (found here) for the help! And also to the people who contribute to the the English TWST wiki!

Lastly: A reminder if you didn't already know, that I do, in fact, take requests! Coming up with WHAT to write is usually the hardest part for me; when I get past that I have a blast! ^^

...Also I think doing the research for this has skyrocketed Sebek up my 'favorite TWST characters' list because damn. That's rough, buddy. And honestly same in a way. His part was definitely my favorite to write.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna make your heartbeat run like roller coasters

for @subeddieweek day one with the prompts manhandling and accidental subspace

rated e | 3,520 words | please check ao3 for tags

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Eddie gets pushed against a lot of lockers.

It’s rarely accidental.

It’s always painful.

He doesn’t exactly have a lot of meat on his bones. Every hit leaves a bruise.

So when Steve fucking Harrington does his own dirty work for once, even though he graduated the way Eddie was supposed to, it’s just a bit embarrassing that it doesn’t hurt. It feels…kinda like he should be on his knees.

Which is really not something he wanted to think about when Steve’s got a hand on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to bruise, and something like fear in his eyes. Why is he scared?

“Did you sell weed to Robin?” he asked, teeth clenched.

Jesus fucking Christ. Steve’s got himself a band nerd girlfriend. How the hell did that happen?

“No, I sold to her friend. She waited by the treeline talking to herself the entire time.”

Eddie could hear his own voice shaking, but he wouldn’t back down. Black eyes were kinda metal weren’t they?

“Which friend?”

“Dude, I don’t even know. Someone else in band.”

The hand on his shoulder tightened and he barely bit back a whimper.

Steve’s eyes were very pretty this close. They were pretty from far away, too. Honestly, having Steve this close was probably rewiring something already broken in his brain. Having Steve’s hand on him like this was making his brain do somersaults trying to stay focused.

And then his hand was gone.

Eddie breathed in, breathed out.

“Sorry. I-” Steve shook his hands out and backed away. “Sorry.”

Eddie ignored whatever the fuck was happening in his stomach. It shouldn’t be happening so it isn’t, simple as that.

“Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if you’re so worried about her buying drugs.” Eddie should learn to shut his mouth at some point. “I only sell to the people who come to me first.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I remember.” Steve wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry again.”

Eddie looked him up and down, taking in the fact that he was genuinely apologizing. No one ever apologized for knocking him around, not even when it was on accident.

“You good?” He eventually asked.

“Yeah. Just, she’s been through a lot. I didn’t really want her to get pressured into buying something,” Steve sighed. “Has she come out of the band room yet? I’m supposed to bring her to work.”

“Uh, yeah man, everyone left an hour ago.”

Eddie watched Steve’s face fall as he checked his watch and must’ve realized the time.

“Shit. Okay. I must’ve lost track of time.”

Steve looked pitiful. Eddie’s seen dogs in alleys who looked less beaten down and neglected than Steve currently did.

“I can help you find her?” Eddie offered for some unknown reason.

Well, he knew the reason, but he was choosing to ignore it.

“She’s probably already at work. It’s my day off so I ended up getting distracted with something and didn’t realize it was so late,” Steve admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks, though.”

Wayne liked to tell Eddie he was too nice to undeserving people. Lord knows he gave his dad too many chances and got let down every time. He even tried to be friends with Tommy Hagan in middle school because he could sense something was going on with Tommy’s dad much like his own.

But Eddie liked to remind Wayne that Eddie is often considered undeserving and he took him in and gave him multiple chances regardless.

“You wanna smoke?” Eddie asked, despite knowing he barely has anything left after the long week of midterms for students. His busiest times of year were right before school breaks, midterms, finals, and graduation weekend. He usually stocked up, but with Rick being in prison again, he had to try to stretch what he had out.

“Uh…smoke what?”

“Weed.” Then it hit Eddie that maybe Steve was into harder stuff. But he hadn’t ever even bought from him in high school. Tommy had, Carol had, almost everyone at his parties had, but Steve never did. “I have regular old cigs too if you prefer.”

“Yeah, man, cool,” Steve sighed with relief.

“I got a spot behind the cafeteria if you wanna…”

“Sure, yep, let’s go,” Steve nodded, gesturing towards the double doors that led outside to the cafeteria and auditorium buildings.

As they walked, Eddie’s mind raced with thoughts of being alone with Steve, Steve’s arm brushing against his, Steve pushing him against the wall of the cafeteria, of Eddie dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Steve’s pants and-

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”

Steve’s voice shook him from his thoughts, but his dick didn’t quite get the memo. When did he even start getting hard?

“No worries, dude.” His face scrunched in disgust at calling Steve dude. What was next, the bro pat on the back? A fist bump? “Kinda jealous of how protective you are of your girlfriend.”

Okay, actually, what the fuck? Eddie needed to shut his fucking face, right the fuck now.

“She’s not my girlfriend, but uh, I don’t think you’re really her type either,” Steve gave him a look, one Eddie knew well and one he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing on Steve’s face right now.

“Right, right.” Eddie wouldn’t make him say it, especially if it was actually the look he thought it was, but maybe he could offer a little something in return. “Yeah, she’s not really my type either.”

Steve stopped just before they reached the hidden area behind the dumpster and picnic table for staff to smoke.

“Really?” Steve’s eyes were wide. “So you’re more into…someone like…me?”

Eddie was actually leaking into his goddamn boxers. Why was he getting turned on just talking to Steve?

“That would be one way of saying it,” Eddie said. Still easy enough to back out of it, at least. Could just say he likes women who wear polos and use more hairspray than Melvald’s has ever carried at any given time.

“Huh,” Steve continued walking to the picnic table, sitting on top of it and kicking some dirt off the bench by his legs for Eddie to sit. “So those rumors were true?”

“That depends on if I’m gonna make it back home to my very loving uncle if I say yes.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m not gonna judge you about it when my best friend is-” He cut himself off and Eddie had to give him major credit. The Steve he used to know never would’ve cared if he outed someone, or at least never would have realized that was wrong. He coughed and then looked down at the bench. “You gonna sit?”

Eddie sat down on the bench, extremely close to Steve’s legs. Almost touching. Was that heat coming from his body or was Eddie just extremely warm?

“Did you actually wanna smoke or did you just wanna get out of the hall?” Steve asked after another minute of awkward silence.

“We can smoke.” Eddie reached into his pocket, hating how tight his jeans were in the front, and grabbed his lighter. His pack of cigarettes were usually stored in his van because he rarely smoked them, but luckily he’d brought them with him all week to sneak smokes between classes. He pulled one out and handed it to Steve.

He started to light his own when Steve leaned down, his face right next to Eddie’s, breath hot on his neck.

“You aren’t gonna light it for me?”

Eddie whimpered.

He would deny it a million times over if anyone asked. He almost had himself believing he imagined it.

But Steve laughed and backed away, pulling out his own lighter and giving Eddie a second to catch his breath.

What the fuck was that? Did Steve know he was making Eddie’s brain flatline?

He watched Steve take a long drag out of the corner of his eye, his mind shuffling between ‘what if he fucked me right here?’ and ‘get the hell away before your dick pops a hole in your jeans.’

Steve’s lips were so pink, and looked so soft, and just wet enough from licking his lips before taking the next drag, and Eddie was really going through it right now.

He’d gone through his Steve Harrington phase just like everyone else, thought it was over when he graduated. Had avoided the mall all summer when he heard he was working at Scoops so he didn’t have to see him in those tiny blue shorts. Had even gone so far as to avoid being around when the kids were being picked up from Hellfire because Dustin mentioned Steve was his ride.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Except for Eddie’s imagination was impressive, and his late night thoughts turned into very vivid scenes of Steve working him to the edge and making him beg, or pushing him against a locker and making him take his cock with barely any prep, or-

“Dude, anyone ever tell you you’re kinda space-y?” Steve’s voice once again lifted him from his thoughts, though he felt a bit hazy.

“Think I’m comin’ down with something,” Eddie squeaked out. All he was coming down with was a sickness deep in his chest: Harrington Heart-itis.

“Did you hit your head?” Steve sounded concerned now, setting his cigarette in the ashtray left on the table and moving so he had one leg on either side of Eddie. His fingers landed in Eddie’s hair, pulling his head closer and inspecting it for injury. “I didn’t think anything but your shoulders hit, but maybe-”

“No,” Eddie gulped. He should pull away. “Didn’t hit my head.”

Steve’s fingers tightened, not quite painfully, but enough of a bite to it that Eddie whimpered. Again.

Steve’s grip loosened, but his fingers stayed buried in his curls, and Eddie felt pressure guiding him to rest against Steve’s thigh.

“You eat today?” Steve asked, though his voice sounded kinda far away, like he was above the surface of the water and Eddie was sitting at the bottom of a pool looking up at the sun. “Eddie?”

“Hm?” Eddie blinked up at Steve. “I ate.”

“When?” Steve’s hand was cupping his cheek. “Lunch?”

“Mmm, no,” Eddie shook his head, blinked. “Breakfast? Cereal.”

Steve cursed under his breath.

He was so pretty. Had he been told how pretty he was? Surely when Nancy was with him, she told him.

Even if Robin liked women, she had to at least notice how pretty he was, right?

Steve’s sharp intake of breath somewhat centered Eddie.

“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” Steve whispered, leaning down so his face was only inches away.

Eddie could kiss him. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lift his head the final two inches to make their lips meet.

“Eddie, eyes open,” Steve’s fingers tightened again, gaining Eddie’s full attention. “Should I call someone? Are you dynamic or something?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed. What did that even mean?

“Like the sugar thing?” Steve continued.

“Diabetic?” Eddie still felt a little hazy, but he was starting to come back to it with Steve’s hand migrating from his hair to his shoulder. “No, my sugar’s fine.”

“I’ve got some soda in my car. I can drive you home and then bring you to school in the morning. You probably shouldn’t drive like…this.”

It all came crashing down when Eddie realized how vulnerable he’d just been, how he’d actually lost track of time, not sure exactly how long he’d been sitting between Steve’s legs with his hands in his hair before he started coming back to earth. He stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, rocking a bit before finding his balance.

“Woah, take it easy.” Steve held his hands out, grasped his biceps to hold him steady. “You were pretty far out of it. Don’t rush it.”

How fucking embarrassing.

Eddie had only gone down that far one time with someone and they got freaked out when he was giggling and couldn’t walk on his own because his legs felt like jelly. But that had been on purpose. This was- Steve didn’t– Jesus Christ.

“I’m fine now.” Eddie was not fine. He knew what would happen if he left right now. Aftercare was a major part of this whether Steve was prepared for it or not. “Just, um, walk me to my van.”

Steve looked like a kicked puppy, but Eddie didn’t have the time to explain all of this to him.

Steve Harrington didn’t know how much of a freak Eddie was even if he did know he was gay. There’s no way Steve participated in any type of BDSM with the many girls he slept with in high school.

There was absolutely no fuckin’ way Nancy Wheeler let herself get tied to a bed and get fucked by Steve.

He shook his head at the thought.

“I’d feel a lot better if you let me drive you. I promise we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Steve sighed. “I just don’t know if you should drive when you went down so hard.”

“You have no idea what even happened,” Eddie argued, pacing back and forth. “I can drive. I just need to walk it off.”

“You don’t walk off subspace.”

Eddie froze. Steve was standing right in front of him now, concern in his big, stupid, adorable eyes.

“How do you even know about subspace?” Eddie whispered.

“I slept with half the high school and two guys in Indy. I know what subspace is, Eds.”

Eddie must still be in space. Or maybe another galaxy.

“Sorry, did you just say you slept with two guys in Indy?” Has Steve seriously fucked more guys than Eddie has? Eddie, the resident gay man of Hawkins, has only been with one man in his entire life and Steve has apparently slept with two?

“Well, I wasn’t gonna sleep with two men in Hawkins!” Steve threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “I hit up a gay bar and didn’t realize it doubled as a BDSM club until I was already in it and then a nice guy showed me the ropes. Literally. There were ropes involved.”

Eddie snorted. Steve was pretty and funny. Great. Just what he needed.

“I have a quick recovery, so I’ll be fine to drive home,” Eddie tried, though even he could hear his voice still shaking.

“No one is that quick,” Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a hug. “Has that ever happened before?”

“Not like that.”

“We should probably talk about it.”

The last thing Eddie wanted to do was talk about how someone playing with his hair and moving his head around while showing the bare minimum of care was enough to send him into subspace, but he had a feeling Steve wasn’t gonna give up easily.

“Fine. What should we talk about? How no one ever touches me gently so the moment someone did, I slipped? How I’ve been avoiding seeing you anywhere in public because I knew it would make my crush come back full force? Oh, I know!” Eddie laughed hysterically as he pulled away. “Let’s talk about how I still think about you in your stupid basketball shorts when I’m fucking myself on four fingers, which is never enough because I can never reach the spot I need to. Or how I once cut out your yearbook photo to keep for jerking off material because my mags weren’t enough. Could even talk about how earlier I wanted you to put your leg between mine so I could rub off on you. Or maybe the weather if you’d prefer that.”

Eddie was panting, could feel the heat on his face rising as he realized everything he’d just said, admitted, to Steve.

He’d never said any of that out loud. Shit, he’d barely said most of it in his own head.

Steve’s arms were pulling him in and Eddie let himself have it, let himself feel small for just a moment. If Steve wasn’t completely disgusted by what he said, then he would at least accept this offering of kindness for now.

They stayed like that for a while, long enough that Eddie started to wonder if he could just live here, right in Steve’s arms.

“It’s looking a little cloudy,” Steve said quietly, hands still rubbing Eddie’s back slowly.

“What?” Eddie still felt a little out of it, but that was entirely out of left field.

“You said we could talk about the weather.”

Eddie snorted. “Oh my God, you’re so-” Eddie looked up at Steve, who was smiling down at him. He felt off-kilter, being the object of that particular Steve look. “Stupid.”

It was fond, probably too fond for someone who needed to protect himself from whatever the hell was happening. He needed to shut this down.

“It’s been mentioned,” Steve’s eyes flickered down to Eddie’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “You good to head out?”

Eddie started to nod, but stopped.

This was his only chance. He wasn’t dumb enough to think he’d ever be alone with Steve again. If he was gonna kick start a spiral over feelings, he might as well go all out.

He stood at his full height, almost eye level with Steve, and leaned in.

The kiss was not even close to perfect. In fact, as far as kisses go, it was probably in the bottom three for Steve. Eddie chose not to think about how he screwed it all up.

But once the initial shock wore off, and Eddie put his teeth away, Steve’s hand cupped Eddie’s cheek and he licked past his lips.

Leave it to Steve to turn this around, make it something worth the risk.

Their lips moved in sync, both of them deepening the kiss without making it too wet, too filthy for a public space.

It was, dare he say, romantic.

Most kisses Eddie had managed to have were dirty and rough, hidden away in dark bars and alleyways, not exactly prime teen romance.

Of course Steve was good at this, of course he made Eddie melt against him, and of course Eddie was going to start writing hearts around Steve’s name in his notebook as if they were high school sweethearts.

When they pulled apart, it took him a minute to open his eyes. How stereotypical.

Steve was already looking at him, softer than he probably deserved.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Eddie breathed out.

“It’s been mentioned.” Steve’s lips turned up in a smirk before he pulled away completely. “Let’s go.”

They walked back through the school, stopping at Eddie’s locker to grab one of his textbooks as if he actually would use it. By now, he didn’t really need the textbooks to get his work done. And he was actually committed to getting it done this time around.

They were quiet as they continued out to the parking lot, only a few cars belonging to teachers left, maybe a few students stuck here for football or basketball practice. Steve’s car was towards the back, but Eddie’s was almost all the way in the grass field by the main road. It was less risky leaving it further away, less likely that anyone would slash the tires or key the side.

“You’re sure you can drive?” Steve asked as they stood outside his car.

“Yeah. Only five minutes to the trailer. It’ll be fine.” Eddie shrugged like it was nothing, but he was actually a little worried the kiss set him too off balance to focus on the road. Fuck the subspace, Steve’s lips were like discovering a new galaxy.

“Can I call you later? To check on you?” Steve seemed hesitant to ask.

“Uh, yeah? Do you…have my number?”

Steve shook his head, opening the door to his car and reaching into the glovebox to find a pen and an old receipt. As Eddie wrote down the number to the trailer, he thought about how much worse this would be tomorrow, how shitty it would be to have had this absolutely out of this world experience with the one person he never thought he could and then be left with scraps for the rest of his life.

“You uh, you don’t have to call, man. Don’t feel pressured. My uncle will be home so it’s not like I’ll be alone.”

Steve took the paper and pen back, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket and throwing the pen back into the car.

“I’m gonna call.” Steve moved a piece of Eddie’s hair from in front of his face. “You got a phone in your room?”

“No, but the one we have reaches to the bathroom?” Why the hell did he need one in his room?

“Good. Need you to be alone.”

“Steve, what the hell does that mean?”

“How else am I supposed to tell you what I wanna do to you?”

Well, fuck.

Day two: ao3 | tumblr

[gutsby]

Wingman

Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.

Word count: 1.7k

You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.

Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.

“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”

Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.

Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.

Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.

“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”

“Pads!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”

The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.

“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.

“Boneless or traditional?”

And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.

Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.

“Sorry.”

Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,

“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”

And he was off.

Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.

There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.

That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:

“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”

And you’d looked back in abject horror.

Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.

Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.

You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.

6:29

“Dude, where are you?!”

It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.

“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.

“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”

“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”

“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”

In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.

You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.

“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”

Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.

His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.

Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.

“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”

You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.

Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.

You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.

Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.

“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”

You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.

Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.

Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.

Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.

Wait.

Wait.

“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.

But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…

“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.

“What?” you shot back, instantly.

A frown tugged at his lips.

“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”

Not…exactly, no.

More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.

You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:

“Wings!”

An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.

You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.

You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.

The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.

But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.

Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.

The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.

You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—

Whistling.

Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.

You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.

It didn’t matter.

Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.

Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.

“I got three boxes to be safe…”

Joel was really too sweet.

“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”

Always so considerate.

“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”

This motherfucker.

[gay-dorito-dust]

doing grocery shopping with the batboys

Could you write something fun and fluff please?

is one of my favorite activities.

I love what you write so much. My favorites are Dickie bird and Jay bird.

Don’t know whether this is fun or fluff as you’d wanted it (kinda went on a personal rant in Jason’s a little bit but I don’t regret it) but I still hope you enjoy it not the less. Also thank you for enjoying my Jason/ Dick stuff! 🫶🦦🐿️

Dick:

You go in for certain things that you need and come out with way more then you probably should. (And most of it isn’t what you actually needed)

Half of the stuff you get is mainly what Dick thinks Hayley might like and she ends up only liking 50% of it…the ‘daddy’s little girl’ doggy shirt was pushing it tbh.

Dick tends to wander off when your shopping together that when you went to ask him a question, only to notice that he was gone, you sigh and say;

‘Dick?’

A few isles over you heard a faint ‘yes honey?’

He was in the pet section. again.

You’d have to remind him that you were only there for specific things and nothing else, but Dick would always try to persuade you into allowing him to get something was wasn’t on the list at all, by battering his eyelids at you and saying ‘pretty please.’

You naturally can’t say no to you pretty boy who acts like a man child when shopping, especially if you’re the one who’s paying.

The shopping list you made might as well have been thrown in the bin with how often you come home, only to be reminded that you barely got 25% of the stuff on the shopping list thanks to Dick’s impulsiveness.

However Dick would only use this as an excuse to go shopping again later on in the week/month and do it all over again without remorse.

Also Dick is way too polite to tell people blocking the isle to move, he wants to, he really does but all he does is breathe in deeply and plaster on a smile before soldering on.

Jason:

Grocery shopping wasn’t a favourite of Jason’s but if he were to do it, he’d rather do it with you because he got to be a little goofy with it.

And by that I mean him getting a little affectionate and pinching your backside and you snacking his bicep and scolding him for being inappropriate in the frozen food section.

‘I’m not doing anything chipmunk.’ He’d defend himself as you glare him.

‘I’m sure as shit there isn’t a perverted ghost here that pinches people’s backsides for fun. Now pack it in.’ You hissed as you rubbed your ass in hopes of soothing the sharp pain you felt seconds ago.

‘Sorry sweetheart.’ He’d chuckle as he kisses your cheek in apology.

You couldn’t help but smile as you could never truly stay mad at your sweet Jason, not unless he was staining your carpets with blood from a night out on patrol, but that was neither here nor there.

Other than that Jason would take the trolley from your hand and storm the store with a determination to get the fuck out as fast as possible.

His long ass strides tend to leave you behind in some random isle somewhere. So to combat this from being a reoccurring thing, Jason would just grabs your hand and puts on the trolley before putting his own on top; Now you were being dragged instead of getting left behind in somewhere with people blocking the fucking isle.

How sweet of him.

(If you’re one of these ppl, go fuck yourself bc what the fuck is so interesting that you have to block the ENTIRE FUCKING ISLE? MOVE!)

Speaking of people blocking the isle, it’s Jason’s biggest pet peeve because WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY TAKING SO MUCH FUCKING SPACE?! FUCKING MOVE YOU LAZY BASTARDS!

He will fucking glare at anyone who even dares to lean over his trolley to get something and when you tell him about how obvious he was being, he’d only response to this was: ‘they’re privileged with the use of a voice, they should fucking use it sometime.’

You’re basically there to calm him down before he bulldozes some poor bastard by guiding him to a lesser crowed isle and get some junk food for later as a reward, followed by your magical cuddles and kisses.

Jason hates shopping but with you it was made just that little bit enduring, only a little bit…he still wants to fight the young couple who wouldn’t fucking move in that one isle and honestly you don’t blame him as you would gladly join him.

[scaredpigeons]

Aqua Regia — experimentation is for the bold.

Read Aqua Regia // masterlist

Neuvillette x Fem!reader x Wriothesley (heavy heavy wriothesley x neuvillette)

Word count: 8.6k

After being married for a few years, your husband asks if you’d be willing to… experiment a little within your intimate life. Your best friend wriothesley is happy to help.

WARNING: SMUT, NSFW 18+ MDNI

CW: m/m/f threesome, m/f and m/m sex. Wriothesley fucks you and your husband. possessiveness(neuvi), danger kink(wrio), growling, slamming into walls, making out, vaginal fingering, anal fingering(male rec), vaginal sex, anal sex(male rec), Neuvillettes inhuman tongue, mentions of Neuvillettes dragon dicks, biting, minor mentions of blood at the end, clitoral stimulation, teasing.

Authors note: okay, okay. Listen. Listen. I had to, okay? Look— it doesn’t have to be AR canon if you’re not into it. It’s not imperative to the plot. It was just so eaaaaasssyyyyyyyyyy. No, Wriothesley isn’t joining the marriage, it’s not becoming a thing, but I am a firm believer that people can fuck their besties if they wanna and it can be chill. Fuck your besties!!! Especially if they look like wriothesley!!! Let your boy best friend fuck your husband!!! Especially if your husband looks like Neuvillette!!

“Have you ever had sex with a man?”

Wriothesley spit his tea across the entirety of his desk, soaking the morning paper crossword puzzle he was half paying attention to.

“I’m sorry, what?” He sputtered, wiping the leftover tea from his mouth and gaping at you with his blue eyes wide.

You simply shrugged, pretending like his reaction wasn’t the most hilarious thing you’ve seen in months. Though, you were expecting him to react something like that.

He was your best friend, but you’d never really talked about either of your sex lives before, mostly because you didn’t have a sex life before Neuvillette, and you always felt too awkward to talk about these things with Wriothesley.

The past couple years with Neuvillette had really whittled down your self consciousness on the subject though, and your more recent conversations with your husband had left you quite curious.

“Just a question, you don't have to answer if you’re not comfortable talking about it though.” You said, nonchalantly sipping your tea, trying to hide the grin threatening its way into your cheeks.

“No, no.” He said, rolling his neck as if the shock of the moment had put a crick in it. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. You just… don’t ever talk about this kinda stuff.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable discussing it with me, that's all.” You said, setting your tea down. “That and— up until Neuvillette, I didn’t really have any experience to speak of.”

He rolled his eyes. Wriothesley often joked about how gross you and your husband were. Flirting when no one was paying attention, stolen glances across the room, poorly concealed marks on your bodies— he called you shameless, teasing you but never prying.

“Well I mean, some people may find it a bit awkward, talking about the sex life of their two best friends… who happened to be married to one another…” he said.

”Do you?” You said, tone light and teasing, almost as if challenging him. “Find it awkward?”

“Not really,” he grinned. “Actually I’ve been dying to know what he’s got going on, y’know… with the whole dragon thing.” Wriothesley made a lewd gesture towards his crotch as he spoke, making you laugh.

“Ah ah, I asked first, your questions can come later.” You teased.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes again. “Fine, fine. The answer is yes, I’ve done almost everything under the sun with as many different kinds of people as there are out there.”

“Your Grace!” You said in a mock fluster. “How scandalous! What would the people say if they knew the Duke of Meropide was such a common whore!”

”Hey!” He laughed, taking your teasing just as intended. “Just because I’m not interested in a long term relationship doesn’t mean I need to be abstinent! Let a man enjoy the simple pleasures in life, you prude.”

You snorted, covering your mouth a bit as you tried not to laugh harder, Wriothesley’s wide grin and accusatory index finger pointing at you wasn't helping.

“What’s your, uh— preference in role when it comes to that type of sex?” You asked once you’d calmed down a bit.

He snorted again, making your laughter bubble back up and threaten to burst out once more.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “it's just so funny to try and see you talk about this shit.”

“Answer me!” You giggled, trying to brush him off. “I’m trying my best, here!”

He cleared his throat, attempting to take the conversation a little more seriously. “I’ve done both, and I favor neither one nor the other. It all depends on the partner, really.”

Not that you’d ever really entertained the thought of what Wriothesley looked and acted like in bed, but you could very easily picture him in a more dominant role, taking charge and leading the experience with a well practiced hand.

But picturing him in a more submissive role? Being the receiver, his broad shoulders pressed into luxurious blankets, large hands reaching up to grasp at long, silky white hair as he—

Oh. You were getting ahead of yourself.

You took the time to clear your own throat and calm your heated cheeks, trying to keep a proper posture.

“What is your opinion on people having casual sex with close friends?” You said, trying to keep your tone level and casual, as to not expose your nerves and ruin the entire conversation. If things took a sour turn, you could easily play it off as morbid curiosity.

He seemed to answer without really thinking. “I mean, I personally don’t see a problem with it, as long as everyone is consenting and, you know… chill.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous and frequent use of cryo puns. You swear he did it just to get a rise out of you sometimes.

But he suddenly paused, most likely connecting some dots, as you figured he would.

“If I didn’t know any better, I might think this illustrious personal assistant was propositioning me on behalf of the Iudex, which would never happen,” his eyes thinned, turning a bit dark, but you could see the remnants of a grin threatening their way onto his face once more. “Would it?”

“Quite preposterous in theory, for sure.” You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to meet his eyes and instead taking a delicate sip of your tea, proper and poise. “Though in practice it might not be so improbable.”

Wriothesley’s eyes glimmered as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and watching you avoid his gaze.

He made a noise of affirmation before clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Yes, yes. Well, even so, I would find it hard to believe, considering everyone in Fontaine is aware of how devoted the honorable Iudex is to his most beloved wife.”

“Yes, well.” You sat your teacup down, eyeing the rows of books he kept while willing the heat from your cheeks. “One does not live life without developing… curiosities. And perhaps his beloved wife is curious too? It’s not so obscene to imagine.”

Wriothesley tilted his head, and out of the corner of your eyes you caught him licking his lips.

“Obscene isn’t the word I’d use when imagining it, that’s for sure.”

———————

“Are you sure about this?” He asks.

“You know you can say the word at any time and this doesn’t have to continue,” You add.

“Exactly.” Wriothesley agreed. “I’m here to do what you want, there’s no expectations. I won’t be upset or offended, literally anything that happens tonight will not affect our relationship whatsoever.”

Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you watched Neuvillette look between the two of you.

Sitting down in the living room with Wriothesley and your husband was a common occurrence, many nights of cards and drinks and laughs were shared here. But tonight was very different, the air seemed electro-charged and the fire crackling in its stone fireplace was only adding more distracting noise to the sound of your heart beat thrumming through your eardrums. Could Neuvillette hear it so loudly too?

Neuvillettes eyes still danced between the two of you, and his brow raised slightly as if in disbelief.

“You are both aware that I was the one who initially proposed this idea, correct?” He asked, slow and steady as if to make sure the words really resonated. “It would be rather foolish of me to ask something like this of the two of you, only to change my mind at the last second. Unless… you both are having second thoughts on the matter?”

Both you and Wriothesley tried to express your refusal of such an accusation at the same time, making the two of you chuckle at each other with your eagerness.

“It’s not us, it’s just…” Wriothesley paused, making a circling gesture with his spread hands, as if he was trying to gather the thoughts he couldn’t quite conjure.

“My love, you have a tendency to be a bit…” you started, looking for the right phrase to not offend him too terribly much.

“Sometimes you can come across a little…” Wriothesley looked at you, cringing a bit as he hoped you would finish as if to soften the blow.

You sighed, deciding to just come right out and say it.

”Possessive.” You said. “You can be quite possessive.”

Neuvillette only nodded, seemingly unaffected.

“It is true that I can be rather possessive of my wife, as is in a dragon's nature to protect their mate, to guard their treasures carefully.” He looked to you. “Though I don’t see how that would be a problem in this situation?”

”My darling, you growled at that tea seller from Liyue when he tried to offer me a discount.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I did not enjoy the way his eyes were roaming all over your body, as if you were some kind of confectionary treat to drool over.”

“You’ve almost broken my hand just for touching her arm.” Wriothesley deadpans.

“Unrelated.” Neuvillette huffs. “I was experiencing a fluctuation in elemental energy when the full power of the hydro sovereign was returned to its rightful owner. Any irresponsible choices I might have made during that time can be written off as flukes, one time mistakes, nothing more.”

“Any irresponsible choices like, for example, courting your personal assistant without the knowledge that she was aware that was what you were doing?” Wriothesley stood from his chair, rounding the little end table that held your books to stand behind the armchair you were perched on, facing Neuvillette on the couch.

You could see the tips of your husbands ears glow red in the firelight, and you suppressed the urge to giggle when he clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Nonsense.” He looked at you, and his eyes softened. “The decision to court you may not have been a very well thought out one, but it was a decision I will stand by for the rest of my existence.”

You flushed. He always found a way to make your heart flutter. You were so in love with this man— dragon— you were in love with your husband, and it seemed his devotion to you was an endless pool as well.

“Well, if it's unrelated, you should have no problem with me touching her again now, hmm?” Wriothesley said behind you, and you froze a bit in shock. You didn’t think he would start this so soon, but better to get going naturally, yes? Surely if you tried to talk about it forever, it would never happen.

His large, still wrapped up hands slid down your arms, fingertips dragging along your exposed skin until he was bent over the back of the chair, nuzzling into the side of your neck. His index fingers smoothed over the insides of your wrists as he breathed in your scent, a soothing gesture surely— but it only served to rile you up even more.

You looked up at Neuvillette and involuntarily whimpered at how strained he looked. His eyes were dark, menacing. His gloved hands were gripping the edge of the couch, straining the fabric as if it was seconds away from tearing and exposing the cushion. He looked like he was about to pounce, a murderous glare trained on where Wriothesley was touching you, breathing you in.

“You smell so sweet tonight, is that a new perfume?” Wriothesley whispered, making sure his breath ghosted over your ear, causing you to shiver.

“Yes,” you squeaked, still watching Neuvillette watch you.

“Just for me?” You caught him flashing that cheeky grin in your peripherals. “You shouldn’t have.”

His hands smoothed up and down your forearms, his lips barely ghosting along your throat, the tease of it all making you breathless.

“You seem far too comfortable doing such things with your best friend, Your Grace.” Neuvillettes' tone was dark, his voice was steady and smooth like usual, but there was an underlying madness creeping around the edges of his words that set your skin on fire. “Should I be concerned?”

Wriothesley pressed his smile against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, not quite a kiss but it ripped a growl from Neuvillette’s chest all the same.

“It’s fun to play pretend sometimes, isn’t it?” The Duke whispered your name softly in your ear, and you could see his eyes dip up to finally look at Neuvillette. “We can play pretend for a little while… can’t we, doll?”

You met Neuvillettes gaze. He was livid, yes. But there was a flush on his cheekbones that wasn’t there before— a heaviness to his breath that didn’t seem to come from his anger. You nodded to Wriothesley.

“I haven’t even touched you properly yet and he looks like he’s about to burst.” Wriothesley chuckled, low and breathy in your ear, but loud enough that you were sure your husband could hear. “Tell your puppy to heel, hmm? I’m just trying to get the fun started.”

Your thighs clenched together, heat pooling to your core in droves as you watched Neuvillette, all while receiving Wriothesley’s gentle and teasing ministrations.

“Neuvillette—“ you gasped as Wriothesley moved his hands to your thighs, blowing cool air in your ear. “Are you… still okay?”

Wriothesley’s warm palms gripped onto the plush of your thighs, making your legs spread almost on their own, a natural response to the kind of feelings stirring inside you, but it still made you squirm knowing it wasn’t your husband who brought such a response from you.

Neuvillette still hadn’t responded, but you figured he would voice his concerns if he truly had any. He looked as though he was fighting against all instincts, but from a quick peek to the crotch of his pants—you could tell he was just as excited as you were.

Your hips bucked up and arms tensed as Wriothesley kissed you gently on the junction between your neck and shoulder, your thinly strapped top giving him easy access to plenty of skin.

“So responsive…” Wriothesley groaned. “Aren’t you just a little treat for me.”

You bit your bottom lip as his kiss turned wet, his tongue dragging across your skin with each press of his lips.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you whined when he nibbled on your jawline, making your hands grip the arms of the chair even tighter as his hands continued their leisurely strokes on the tops of your thighs, fingertips only slightly teasing the fabric covering the inner flesh here and there.

“Such pretty little noises too,” Wriothesley said, bringing his fingertips further into the flesh of your inner thighs on the next stroke of his hands, watching the way Neuvillette lurched at the sound of your whimpers. “Does she make such pretty noises for you too, Iudex?”

Neuvillettes voice was chipped at the edges, wavering and dark, anger and lust and all other conflicting emotions swirling in the syllables as he growled out into the firelight flickering along the dark walls.

“My touch commands sounds more beautiful than you will ever pull from her, I can assure you that.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Monsieur.” Wriothesley was pushing it, he really was. You were honestly shocked at how well Neuvillette was handling himself thus far, but there had to be a breaking point.

The Duke of Meropide looked your Husband dead in the eyes (you only knew he did because you watched as Neuvillette met his gaze, his pupils thinning into tiny slivers,) and dragged his fingertips up your thighs, bringing his left and to press his middle and ring fingers deeply along the seam of your pants— the seam directly covering your aching core.

Your cunt throbbed at the attention and you cried out, a little startled but mostly just overwhelmed at such a heavy and sensual touch after all the light teasing.

As quickly as the touch was there it was ripped away, your body jolting back in shock as Neuvillette was suddenly upright, bolting across the few feet between the chair and couch to push Wriothesley away from you, making the Duke stumble backwards a few steps.

If he pressed him back where he stood, his back would surely collide with the bookshelves behind him, and somewhere in his instinct driven lizard brain he must have realized that, so he grabbed Wriothesley by the lapels on his vest and hauled him against the wall perpendicular to the shelves, which happened to line up quite nicely with your field of view as you turned around in the chair.

You sat on your knees and gripped the edge of the chair back as you watched them. Their profiles illuminated by the stone fireplace, the breaths in their chests heaving as they looked at each other.

Wriothesley was no small man, but he seemed so tiny as Neuvillette loomed over him, his eyes blazing down and piercing into the Duke.

“Your impudence knows no bounds, does it, little boy?” Neuvillette growled.

Oh.

Oh, did that ever do something for you.

Wriothesley cheekily grinned under his murderous glare, looking up at him without a care in the world— like one of the most powerful beings in Teyvat wasn’t pressing him up against a wall, looking like he wanted to tear him limb from limb.

Or maybe that's exactly why he looked so happy. Wriothesley used to be a bit of an adrenaline junky, didn’t he? Nothing crazy, just jumping into the water from high cliffs, picking fights with bullies much bigger than him, that sort of thing. You figured that spark must’ve died down since his sentencing to the Fortress, but it looks like it was still alive and well, glimmering up at your husband.

“Oh,” Wriothesley breathed, shifting his knee up in between Neuvillettes thighs. “I know plenty of ways to disrespect the honorable Iudex, if he’d like me to show him.”

Neuvillette let loose a sound halfway between a growl and a moan as Wriothesley pressed his thigh into Neuvillette a little harder, grinding against what was surely an aching erection.

“Or would he rather disrespect me?” Wriothesley’s breath was heaving in his chest as he pulled Neuvillettes hands from his lapel to his throat, steadying his grip there as he moved closer, pressing further. You watched as his gaze flickered from Neuvillettes eyes to his lips, before that sinful tongue came out and absentmindedly swiped across his own bottom lip.

And that was all it took.

Neuvillette crashed into him in a flurry of teeth and tongues as he devoured Wriothesley, pinning him further against the wall with his slender hands cupping around his throat.

You gaped as Neuvillette managed to slip a knee between Wriothesley’s legs now, and you nearly moaned he ground his hips against the duke, the tents in their pants pressing against each other's hips. Every few strokes they would bump into each other until Neuvillette must have decided that he preferred when they did, because he shifted until they were pressing against each other's cocks with every grind of their hips, making Wriothesley whimper out a pitiful sound that had you feeling your heartbeat pounding between your legs.

The Duke managed to pull his arms up and over Neuvillettes shoulders, wrapping his hands around the back of your husbands neck, pulling him closer as they devoured one another.

Their breaths were heavy, the grinding of their hips making you squeeze your thighs together as you watched them. You had half a mind to think that maybe you were a bit perverted for enjoying this so much, but the other half was too enraptured by the sight in front of you and the wetness pooling in your underthings to worry too much about it.

“You kiss—“ Wriothesley breathed between kisses, “—like it's a conquest.”

Neuvillette growled, pressing himself closer, squeezing the sides of Wriothesley’s throat in warning. “Only when I have a partner so desperate to be conquered.”

Neuvillette moved his hands in favor of sucking and nibbling along the exposed skin of Wriothesley’s jawline and throat, nibbling between the black wrappings and making the Duke’s knees shudder while he moaned.

His eyes caught yours where you sat and a grin pushed its way onto his heated face.

“Look at your little wife, Monsieur.”

Neuvillette turned his head, and his pupils dilated in the firelight as he caught you so shamelessly staring, face flushed and thighs surely squeezing together.

“Bedroom.” He said, voice leveling out but having no less of its ever commanding tone.

“Bedroom.” You squeaked, nodding as you nearly fell off the chair.

—————————

“I never imagined that Madame Neuvillette would be so shameless…” Wriothesley breathed in your ear as you squirmed in his lap, head lolling back onto your husband's shoulder as the Iudex sucked along your throat from where he sat behind you.

Your clothes were long tossed off, and you pulled at Wriothesley’s tie and hand wrappings, desperate to expose more of his skin. Wriothesley chuckled and moved to take it all off, his coat and vest long since discarded into the darkened corners of your bedroom.

Satisfied with Wriothesley following your needy directions, you reached over your own shoulders to pull at your husband's shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin pressing against your own.

“My love…” you whined. “More, more— I wanna feel you.”

Neuvillette brought his fingertips to your mouth, and you whined as you pinched the tip of his glove in between your teeth, holding on as he slipped his hand from the offending fabric. He brought his other hand up to do the same, and you watched as Wriothesley’s pupils blew wide at the movement.

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you dropped the gloves in your lap, looking at Wriothesley with a face that was surely more lewd than he’d ever seen on you before.

Finally, his upper body was bare, and your hands roamed the wide expanse of his scarred skin.

“Kiss me?” You asked, looking at him through your lashes.

“What kinda question is that?” Wriothesley grinned as he leaned up to capture your lips. He tasted like tea, and a vague hint of your husband's lips from their earlier tryst downstairs.

You moaned as the duke's hands caressed your waist and cupped your breasts, his hips rocking up into you as your tongues danced together, messy and uncoordinated but so enjoyable.

Wriothesley pulled back and his eyes flickered behind you before a pained expression washed over his face.

“Damn it. Fuck. That’s so fuckin’ unfair.” The duke whined.

You looked back to see your husband shirtless, finally. You knew exactly what Wriothesley was whining about too.

Neuvillette was always beautiful, but all his finery and fabrics hid just how stunning he actually was.

His pale skin was flawless, glowing in the moonlight streaming in your bedroom window. His shoulders were broad, arms sculpted and showcasing the odd blue veins here and there. His abdominals were strong and lean, his trim waist dipped into his hips with a perfect v cut that drew your eyes directly towards the light speckling of hair that trailed below his navel. He had the body of a strong swimmer, he had the body of a being so beautiful not even the gods could compare.

He was stunning, he never failed to take your breath away even after years of the privilege of seeing him this way.

“I know exactly what you mean,” you pouted as you looked at him over your shoulder.

Neuvillettes long silky hair fell over his shoulder as he leaned in to crowd you against Wriothesley, his bare hands tipped in the faintest pale blue— the element he commanded pulsing through him too powerful to stay hidden away— running along Wriothesley’s sides to paw greedily at his chest, his arms caging you in and forcing you deeper into the dukes lap.

“You both act as if your forms do not beget a reaction so feral and obscene that it makes ones insides shudder in anticipation.” Neuvillette growled, his fingers trailing through the dark hairs coating Wriothesley’s chest.

Wriothesley groaned as you reached down to join your husband's perusal of his chest. Neuvillette was right about one thing at least— as beautiful as your dragon sovereign was, Wriothesley was a different sort of attractive altogether.

Wriothesley was thick. All broad shoulders and corded muscle, large arms that looked like they could pick you up and toss you across a room without issue. His waist didn’t cut in as narrow as Neuvillettes, his abdominals less defined, but you could still see the strength in him tense as you ran your hands across his body. Scarred, marked by his past tribulations and coated in a speckling of hair that just screamed that rugged sort of sexy that made your mouth water.

“Fuck,” the duke said, tossing his head back as Neuvillette ran his nails from chest to navel. “Is he always so quick with the flowery dirty talk?”

You smiled, squirming down on his lap, surely making a mess of the front of his pants. “You act like it didn’t make your cock jump.”

You bit your lip and moaned as Wriothesley grinned and bucked his hips up against your cunt as punishment.

Neuvillette leaned closer, his head dipping above your shoulder to mouth at Wriothesley’s jawline as you were squeezed between them, helpless and turned on with the Duke's erection pressing at your core and your husbands twitching against your ass.

“Your insistence on tormenting my wife will not go unchecked, Your Grace.” Neuvillette whispered as his hands pawed at the Duke's chest once more.

You could hear Wriothesley’s breath hitch as you squirmed further into his lap, and you felt your husband grab and squeeze at him while dragging nibbling kisses along his throat and jawline.

“You’re so fucking good, Neuvillette, shit—“ Wriothesley moaned, stumbling over his words a bit. “Damnit— I want to fuck you so badly.”

Everything seemed to still for a moment. Neuvillette leaned back, letting you look at Wriothesley’s flushed face and heaving chest. His cock was straining against his pants beneath you, you could feel it twitching as he looked up at both of you.

“Do you really?” Neuvillette asked.

“Wha— what?” Wriothesley breathed.

“Do you want to fuck him?” You said, sounding equally as breathless.

Wriothesley seemed confused for a moment, before his eyes darted between the two of you, his face still tinged pink.

“With the way things were going… I figured he’d be the one to— but if you—“

“Do you want to fuck Neuvillette, Wriothesley?” You asked, lowering your tone into something more sultry as you looked at him through heavy lashes.

“Fuck—“ he groaned, his eyes rolling back a bit. “Fuck yes. Yes— you have no idea.”

You both slid off of him, and Neuvillette grabbed at his thighs to pull his legs to the edge of the bed. You sat beside the Duke, watching intently as your husband lowered himself to the ground between Wriothesleys knees.

Wriothesley sat up, looking at the Iudex on his knees in front of him, and his face suddenly turned a whole new shade of red.

“You don’t have to— I mean, I said I was—“

“I want to try. Let me try it?” Neuvillettes' tone was a lot softer now that Wriothesleys hands weren’t actively on you, and you knew that would be the case.

Wriothesley propped himself up with his hands behind him. “Fuck, yes. Yes— okay.”

You leaned over to help Neuvillette undo Wriothesley pants, wanting an up close look at the way his face would change when he saw Wriothesley’s cock. And he did not disappoint you.

His eyes widened and pupils dilated as Wriothesley’s cock burst from its confines, the weight of it making it droop a bit to the side instead of smacking against his stomach. You felt your own mouth water at the sight of it. He was long and obscenely thick, you think he was perhaps even thicker than your husband, and you could see the way Neuvillettes gaze took it in, watching the gears turn in his mind as he realized he was going to try and fit this thing inside him.

A taste of your own medicine, much? You wanted to snicker.

Neuvillettes eyes dipped over to you, a look of hesitation flickering across his features. You smiled down at him, reaching a hand to card your fingers through his hair.

“Take it slowly, darling. You know what feels good, just let yourself have fun with it, okay?” You said.

He looked to Wriothesley, who just silently nodded in agreement, hands fisting the blankets and staring in almost disbelief at Neuvillette between his legs.

Finally, finally, Neuvillette leaned in and let his hot and wet tongue lick up Wriothesley’s shaft before releasing its inhuman length out to curl lewdly around the head of it, lapping up the pre-come dripping from the tip.

Wriothesley shuddered, his eyes widening even more as a desperate sound of shock was ripped from his throat, and he pulled away, scurrying himself back up the bed.

“OH!— okay okay OHkay—“ he yelped as he scrambled back. “If we keep doing that shit I’ll be done in five seconds flat. What the fuck?”

You giggled, looking at Neuvillettes' disappointed pout as Wriothesley panted beside you.

“Yeah, I had about the same reaction the first time too— though I let him keep going.”

Wriothesley sighed. “Yeah well— I said I was going to fuck him.”

The Duke shuffled out of his pants fully, tossing them on the floor. His thick thighs flexing as he kneeled on the bed.

“Sorry, sorry. We can try that again another time.” He took a deep breath, grounding himself. “If it pleases the honorable Iudex, I’d have him lie on the bed and make himself comfortable.”

Neuvillette eyed the cock still hanging hard between Wriothesley’s thighs, but listened without complaint, laying himself down on the pillows.

“Good.” Wriothesley said, the flush in his cheeks slowly dying down to something more reasonable.

He crawled closer, kneeling in between Neuvillettes spread legs, eyeing him for signs of discomfort as he slowly reached for the buttons of his pants. Neuvillette simply relaxed his face, lifting up his hips when Wriothesley pulled at the waistband to tug them off his body.

To Wriothesley, it probably looked like Neuvillette was in calm indifference, just going with the motions, but underneath, you could see your husband brimming with nerves and anticipation, his eyes blazing with need. Your husband was just incredibly used to schooling his own emotions into a mask, he was doing so now to hide his nervousness.

As his pants and undergarments were finally pulled from him, his cock twitched, long and hard and leaking as he laid there, and you simply couldn’t help yourself. You leaned down and took the head of it into your mouth, giving him a few firm sucks just to loosen the tension in his spine.

He moaned, his hand coming to your shoulder as he squirmed. You pulled away, smirking at the flush now coating his face.

Wriothesley whistled as he took in Neuvillettes completely naked form, running his hand along a smooth milky thigh, thumbing gently where it meets his hip.

Neuvillette squirmed, his hand reaching for yours. You grasped it gently, smiling up at Wriothesley. “He’s fine, just getting all quiet because he’s nervous.” You explained when wriothesley looked to you in concern.

“Nervous?” Wriothesley chuckled. “After all that? He’s nervous now?”

“Se—“ Neuvillette stuttered. “Nervousness during sexual exploration is normal, however sharing new experiences with someone that one has no sexual experience with prior can be cause for some anxiety. I am… I am fine— eager, even.”

Wriothesley smirked affectionately, rubbing Neuvillettes thighs. “Well that's good. Is it alright if I touch you now?”

”You may.” Neuvillette breathed.

You continued to hold his hand as you sat down by his hips, eyeing the way Wriothesley squeezed his inner thighs appreciatively.

His large calloused hands spread up and cupped around Neuvillettes pelvis, his thumbs gently running along his balls, watching gleefully as the Iudex twitched under his teasing touch.

A hand finally came up to grasp his cock, starting a slow pace of languid strokes, making you both eye the precome beading at his tip as Neuvillette bit his lip and watched.

“You know, I was expecting something a little more… dragon-like down here.” Wriothesley teased, eyeing Neuvillettes cock before tracing his gaze appreciatively all over his naked body. “You’re fucking ridiculously big, and so damn flawless it’s certainly a little inhuman… but not what I was expecting.”

Neuvillette watched as Wriothesley’s hand picked up the pace, only to slow right down once more, his calloused fingers squeezing here and there as his other hand still teased the junction between his pelvis and thigh.

“This is my… least alarming form.” Neuvillette breathed, and you watched as his brow twitched. he was certainly holding back. “I thought it appropriate to keep the experience as close to… normal as possible.”

“His other form is so pretty,” you pouted, twirling your index finger around Neuvillettes pert nipple, the pink flesh pebbling from all the attention. “But he wont let me play with them… he says I’ll just end up hurting myself.”

“Them?” Wriothesley’s hand paused as he looked at you with a raised brow.

You gave him a cheeky grin, raising up two fingers as you glanced down at Neuvillettes cock. Wriothesley audibly swallowed as you gestured a measurement well over a foot with your hands and mouthed the word big with some finality in your expression.

“Your mortal body is not equipped to deal with such—“ Neuvillette was cut off by his own choked groan as Wriothesley bent down to lap at the head of his cock, blue eyes still staring up at your husband with such intensity.

“You’re telling me you have two cocks?” Wriothesley teased between strokes of his hand and tongue, watching as Neuvillette writhed on the bed. “And you’ve been holding out on our girl here?”

Neuvillette’s head snapped up, glaring at Wriothesley between his spread legs.

“Mine.” His voice was a rasping growl, eyes aflame. “Not yours.”

You watched Wriothesley shudder, his grin ever present as he simply continued the strokes and little licks around your husband's leaking cock.

“Oh fuck, that’ll never not be hot.” He murmured almost to himself as Neuvillette settled back down at your soothing touch running along his chest.

“He’s just teasing you, my love.” You whispered to him, nibbling along his pointed ear. “Everyone knows I belong to you.”

“You have to let me see them,” Wriothesley chuckled as he sat back up, pinching along Neuvillettes thighs. The sight of your husband spread wide and flushed was enough to send pulses of searing heat between your legs, and you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

Neuvillette cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with The Duke as you settled to lay down on the bed beside him, rolling on to your side to face him. You nuzzled into your husbands neck, kissing and nibbling at his skin as if it would soothe the ache in your core.

“Perhaps another time.” Neuvillette didn't sound very thrilled, in fact he sounded rather embarrassed. You remember how long it took to convince him to let you see his more dragonian features.

Wriothesley smiled at the premise of another time, another instance of this happening between the three of you. It seemed that he certainly wasn’t going to object.

“Lubricant?” The Duke asked.

“Top drawer, right side.” You mumbled from your mission of scattering purpling marks along your husband's collar bones.

You felt Wriothesley shift as you wrapped your arms around Neuvillettes neck, bringing your lips to his for a fervent kiss. He consumed you, his inhuman tongue twirling with yours and dipping deeper than usual, teasing your gag reflex and pushing little tears to form at the corners of your eyes.

Wriothesley was back, spreading the lubricant along his fingers. “I’ll start slow, okay?”

“I am not made of glass, your Grace.” Neuvillette scoffed slightly as he paused your kiss.

“Have you done this before?” He looked between the two of you.

“No, I didn't want to hurt him, I’ve never done anything like this.” You said, looking up at Wriothesley before your eyes were pulled right back to the lewd sight of Neuvillette running his tongue along his bottom lip.

“Exactly. I know what I’m doing. Let me do it.”

You and your husband nodded, seemingly more interested in sucking on each other's tongues than Wriothesley’s scolding. That is, until Neuvillette paused, his eyes widening.

“There, there's one. How is it?”

A rough breath pushed from Neuvillettes nose, as he shifted, and you watched the muscles in Wriothesley’s arm flex as he pumped the digit in and out of your husband, slowly and with a careful gaze.

“It is… different.” Neuvillette finally said, letting you nibble on his bottom lip.

“Good. Please say something if you feel any pain or discomfort.” Wriothesley’s eyes were sparkling as his eyes flipped between watching the two of you and watching his finger sink in and out of Neuvillettes hole. “Think you can take another?”

“Yes.”

Wriothesley’s fingers were thick, you knew that. Watching Neuvillettes face change color as Wriothesley pressed a second finger inside made you writhe beside him.

A small noise left Neuvillette as Wriothesley started his slow pumps once more, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. You rolled to your back, immediately spreading your legs and running fingers along your clit, still watching your husband try to hang on to his composure.

You whined as Neuvillette gripped the blankets beneath him, his breaths becoming heavier as his face grew more red. Wriothesley was picking up the pace, slowing every now and then with a focused expression, as if he was looking for something.

The Duke watched you as he kept going, smirking down at your shameless display.

”Awe, you both just have such greedy little holes, don’t you?” His hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you down the bed closer to him. A surprised squeak left your lips, and you watched with wide eyes as Wriothesley reached his free hand over to pet at your leaking cunt, fingertips slipping through and pressing so wonderfully.

He pressed the tip of one finger into your hole, before pulling back out and squeezing two inside you, slow and hot and so good. You keened at the stretch, your achey walls screaming at the sensation of finally being stimulated.

“There you go, ‘that what you needed, pretty girl?” he asked.

You nodded obediently, spreading your legs further as he pumped his fingers in and out of your hole, your back arching as you moaned and cried for him.

You turned to look at your husband, who was surely fuming at another man touching you so blatantly, but you were only met with a flushed and panting mess.

It seemed in your distraction, Wriothesley had added another finger, and Neuvillette was reacting sensationally to the pleasure. His voice was still held back, but you saw his eyes glazed over with lust, his little fanged teeth biting into his bottom lip.

Before you could get too distracted, Wriothesley crooked his fingers inside you, making you sob out and arch your back as he prodded at your g-spot.

To your surprise, Neuvillette cried out at the same time as you, a loud whine being ripped from his throat.

“Found it,” Wriothesley grinned.

The dam had finally cracked, though only a trickle of Neuvillettes true expressions were leaking through. He softly groaned, his eyes rolling back as his horns glowed, his hands nearly tearing holes in the sheets.

“Yeah?” You breathed, still spinning from Wriothesley’s fingers stroking inside you. “Does it feel good, my love? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Your Grace,” Neuvillette panted, tilting his head up to meet Wriothesley’s heavy gaze. “I… I need—“

“What do you need, Your Honor?” Wriothesleys hands pumped in sync now, heavy strokes of his fingers stimulating you both. His smirk was smug, his eyelids heavy and cool eyes blazing.

You could feel your core tightening, the pleasure mounting inside you.

“Wrio…” You keened.

“Fuck, who knew that you’d both be such sluts? You’re both just begging for cock, aren’t you?”

He leaned down, pressing a messy kiss to Neuvillettes lips, and you watched Wriothesley nibble on his bottom lip before pulling away from your husband completely, slipping his hands from the both of you.

“Let me get you riled up before I fuck you, hmm? You’re so hot when you’re being possessive.”

Neuvillette looked confused for a moment but the realization dawned across his face as Wriothesley moved to gather your thighs in his hands, pushing your knees back until they rested on either side of your head.

“Just need a little taste of it, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmured, running his ridiculously thick cock along your folds.

You squirmed, hands balling into tight fists in anticipation. Looking at Neuvillette, you watched as his eyes grew dark once more, and he looked as if he was going to rip Wriothesley away from you at any moment.

“The more fuss you put up, the longer I’ll fuck her— which means the more you’ll have to wait.” Wriothesley teased the head of his cock against your hole, and your back arched as if to encourage him.

Neuvillette settled back, though a deep predatory noise rumbled from his chest, and you could feel Wriothesley’s cock twitch against you.

“Fuck, I’ll never get over that.” The Duke nearly whined.

“Please,” you whimpered, your words starting to slur from the fog clouding your mind. “I wan’ it”

”Yeah? Think you can handle it?” Wriothesley added more pressure, wetting the tip of his already weeping cock, teasing you further. “You only took two fingers, you think that's enough to take this?”

”Please, please,” you bucked your hips, whining again when he pulled back. “I can take it, I can take it, I swear.”

Wriothesley chuckled, low and deep and so seductive. “If you say so…”

After a moment that felt like it dragged on for hours, Wriothesley finally pressed into you, and your eyes blew wide, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

He was thick. You were so insistent on taking him, you didn’t think about the consequences of not being adequately prepared. In a perfect world, you’d have likely taken three or even four of the Duke's lovely fingers and perhaps a couple orgasms to loosen yourself up before taking this claymore of a cock.

But oh, were you a glutton for punishment.

It stretched you so completely, not unlike the way it felt the first time your husband entered you this way, though he always seemed to prepare you more than necessary to ensure your comfort and pleasure.

“Think I can wring one out of you before I fuck your husband?” Wriothesley grinned as he bottomed out, watching your face as you tried to process how ridiculously full you felt. It was like he was in your throat, carving out a new space in your insides just for him to fit into perfectly.

Then he started moving.

Your cunt instantly fluttered around him, the position he had you pressed into forced the fat head of his cock to press against your g spot with insane precision, and the Duke slowly worked his thrusts into a rough slapping of your hips, until he was fucking you at cruel and brutal pace.

“Oh, oh!” You cried out, unable to do anything but take it, staring at the ceiling as your walls fluttered around him, squeezing and clenching as your orgasm built.

You could hear your husband's low growls, but you could also hear a secondary wet noise, prompting you to glance over in your haze of pleasure.

You keened out as you saw Neuvillette stroking himself in time with Wriothesley’s thrusts, his eyes dark and menacing but the twitch of his cock was unmistakable.

“Yeah, that's it sweetheart,” Wriothesley groaned. “Give it to me.”

And you did.

It shattered through you, the build up so quick and harsh that the tipping point had you crying out, writhing around in his hold as you came with such force it made you squeal.

“Good,” Wriothesley whispered, gently pumping his cock into you, prolonging your pleasure. “Good girl.”

You felt a cool hand reach for your thigh, your husband's possessive growling reaching closer to your ears, before Wriothesley’s hands pushed him away, his cock slipping from you rather quickly as he pinned Neuvillette to the bed beside you.

“Nuh-uh,” he chided. “Good boys wait their turn, monsieur.”

“I‘ll tear your hands from your body if you do not use them properly in the next five seconds, Wriothesley.”

“Ooh, violent.” Wriothesley smiled, pinning both of Neuvillettes hands within one of his own, bringing the free one down to run a thumb along your husband's bottom lip. “But I believe that would be a most heinous crime, Monsieur. And though I don't think you’d last a week down in the fortress, I’d make sure your time there was very, very comfortable.”

Wriothesley pressed his hips against Neuvillette, rubbing their cocks together in a lewd squelch that made you whimper and flush, realizing that it was your own arousal coating Wriothesley and making the slide of their lengths so wet and smooth.

“Let me fuck you,” Wriothesley breathed as he stared into Neuvillettes heated eyes. “Fuck, I need it.”

Neuvillette keened, his cock twitching and drooling where Wriothesley pressed against him. Though his brow was still furrowed, his hands still thrashing in the Duke's grip, he nodded, murmuring something that sounded like a breathy “please”.

Wriothesley wasted no time reaching down to thrust three fingers back into Neuvillettes hole before pulling out and lining his cock up, still dripping in your juices.

“It’ll be a lot at first, just try to relax for me.” He murmured against Neuvillettes ear, his muscular forearm tensing where it held him up.

You watched as he pressed forward, as your husband's mouth fell open, his eyes widening as he gazed up at The Duke, his hands clutching the sheets beneath him.

Your mind was in a haze, watching as Wriothesley started his slow and sensuous pace, the line of his hips driving into Neuvillette in a way that made your insides shudder.

His voice was a symphony of broken little sounds, smaller and more vulnerable than you were used to hearing, but his flushed face and bite-swollen lips looked so enticing.

“Is that good?” Wriothesley whispered as he leaned over him, pushing your husband's thighs wider, further back. “You like it?”

Neuvillette released a weak whimper, and you could see the wetness pooling behind his ethereal eyes. Even so, he gave a delicate little nod.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, beautiful.” Wriothesley groaned, his pace quickening. “Fuck, between the two of you, I’m not going to last long.”

You realized you were absently swirling your fingertips along your puffy clit, the pleasure in you from watching them too much for you to handle— you needed release.

Wriothesley’s eyes flickered between the two of you, watching you both, and you could see the muscles in his abdomen tighten.

“Gods—“ Wriothesley made the mistake of moaning out that dreaded word.

Neuvillettes legs snapped around his waist, his clawed hands gasping at his shoulders, at his back as he pulled Wriothesley closer and growled.

“No.” He rasped, fire burning in his gaze as his claws pulled at Wriothesley’s shoulder blades, making the duke shudder and cry out. “No gods. Only me.”

Your fingers stuttered as your thighs shook, your high approaching much sooner than you realized, your sensitive folds dripping and aching for it.

“Oh, fuck—“ Wriothesley groaned, leaning down to breathe into the crook of Neuvillettes neck as his hips stuttered too. “Neuvillette—“

Neuvillette did something you’ve only seen him do a few times, on occasions of high intensity and emotional wreckage during your intimate moments. It was a primal and animalistic act, a response brought on through his instincts and inner feelings, typically hidden by his proper decorum and high intellect.

He opened his mouth wide and latched his teeth possessively into the meat of Wriothesley’s trapezius muscle, deep and firm.

Wriothesley nearly screamed, his hands white knuckling the sheets as he came, gasping and pumping into your husband with a shocked and embarrassed expression, the blush on his face so extreme it trailed down to his shoulders.

Neuvillette groaned, and you watched his cock jump and spray deep splatters of white across his chest and abdomen, even up onto Wriothesley— all while still latched onto him, teeth baring down possessively into the flesh. Small rivulets of blood began pooling where his tongue wasn’t laving it up, and you shuddered and came at the sight of it all.

Your body arched, mind going blank as it hit you.

When your sight returned, all you could hear were three sets of panting breaths, three pounding hearts in the moonlight pooling in the room.

Your heart stuttered out a little bout of jealousy at the sight of Wriothesley petting your husbands silky hair as he soothed him away from his aching shoulder, watching the droplets of blood pool in the wetness left behind from his mouth.

But as Neuvillette relaxed back into the pillows, wriothesley looked up at you with a cheeky grin, wriggling his eyebrows at you, and suddenly the stillness of the room was broken by your unfiltered giggles.

Wriothesley joined you, his chuckling making Neuvillette look at you both in utter confusion. The Duke of Meropide raised his hand, and you limply sat up to meet it, clapping your hand against it in a high five both childish and out of place for the aftermath of such a heated exchange.

“That was… crazy.” Wriothesley said, pulling himself from Neuvillette and sitting back on the bed.

Your giggles calmed, and you snuggled up against your still gaping husband, who continued to look between the two of you with a flushed face and furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I was not expecting it to be like that.” You said as you ran your hands along Neuvillettes chest, soothing him.

You were expecting a bit more awkward tension— but then again, Wriothesley was your best friend. Everything felt easy with him, and even in the aftermath, you couldn’t help but feel light and happy, not an ounce of shame or awkwardness to speak of.

“This exchange…” Neuvillette looked between the two of you, wincing as he tried to sit up less than gracefully. “…is it a positive one? I understand that laughing has more than one meaning, I trust that this means you both enjoyed yourselves?”

You and Wriothesley looked at him, and then each other before you both burst out in another fit of giggles.

“Mmn.” Neuvillette hummed, his face now relaxed and serene. “I take it you’re staying to do our laundry, Your Grace?”

Wriothesley’s laughter sobered up in an instant. “Uh, what?”

“Well, considering that you’ve yet to clean up the mess you left between my legs, which I can feel attempting to drip onto my silk bed sheets, I assume you’re planning on washing them after you’re done relaxing?”

Neuvillette wasn't one for unnecessary messes, always rushing to clean you up after your trysts. He wasn't opposed to a mess or two, but would very promptly strip the bed afterwards to avoid staining his very expensive and very old silks.

Now it was your turn to giggle alone as Wriothesley’s eyes widened at the space between your husbands open thighs, tumbling off the bed in his haste with a grumbled “oh, shit!” As he raced to find a cloth.

“Thank you for indulging me, my love.” Neuvillette whispered against your temple as he pressed a kiss there, holding you closer.

“Do you have any more ideas?” You smirked, and he smiled finally, scrunching his nose playfully at you.

——————————————

Authors note: not my finest work, i kinda lost interest halfway through if you can’t tell. I still wanted to finish it and actually have something to post for y’all while i crawl my way out of this creative block, so visiting the old wips is a must. Anyways, let me know what you think, comments and reblogs are most important!! Love you all so much. —Rae🖤

[cherriesformatt]

the affair || matt sturniolo

summary: you sneak around behind his brothers back

warnings: suggestive

word count: 1,1k

a/n: Thank you for almost 300 followers and 300 notes under last post! Some of my favorite writers on here liked it and I was freaking out. Hope you like this one ily

🍒

"So you think he is acting different? Is that what you are saying?" I asked Nick while putting jar or peanut butter in the shopping cart.

We were grocery shopping for our movie night. Nick was one of my really good friends here in LA. I was a content creator as well. l mainly made music on TikTok, mostly singing and playing covers on the guitar.

"Yes... He is weirdly happy and not that tough as always...like man fine if he is getting laid but why the fuck he is so secret about it? Like we literally know that there is someone " He said and threw more stuff. Cookies and chocolate.

"I don't know Nick...Did you ask him?" I said looking at the labels of products.

I did not want to look him in the eye. If he only knew.

"No.. Chris only made one stupid joke about it and he got mad so we are not asking anymore" He answered.

We spent like an hour in Target before I drove us back to his house.

It was kinda late. Already past 10 pm, so we quickly took turns with a shower and settle to watch movies in his bed. We started Twilight because I made him. And because I knew by the time we start the second movie he is going to be asleep.

So when that happened, I left the tv on because I knew that's how he liked to sleep. I sneaked out of his room and went down the stairs.

I knocked on Matt's doors and within two seconds he opened it.

"Finally..." He said and pulled me into the room.

He closed the doors gently and smiled looking at me.

"Hi..." He said and gently pulled my chin to connect our lips.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. I did not see him for two days due to his busy schedule.

He slipped his cold hands under my hoodie giving me a goosebump allover my body.

Did I ever planned to sneak behind Nicks back to hook up with his brother? No. It just happened. From the beginning me and Matt had a special connection. We could talk for hours even if both of us were not the biggest talkers in the world. We were similar but yet completely different.

"I missed you too" I said quietly after he pulled back to take a deep breath.

He sat on his bed and made me seat on his lap. I straddle him and smiled.

"Your brothers knows that you are getting some..." I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

"Believe me, I know..." He said and rubbed my cheek.

"I wonder why? Am I making you less mean?" I pushed on his chest so he was under me completely.

"Honestly I do not want to talk about my brothers right now" He said and turned us so now I was under him.

He started to kiss my neck and I moved my head a little to give him more access. I sight a little. I missed his touch so much. It was on my mind for a whole day.

This is going to be a long night...

"Stay with me.... It's like 4 in the morning anyways...He is not going to know..." He said after he helped me to clean up in the bathroom and waited for me to pee.

"I don't know Matt... I was usually back to his bed" I said and yawned.

I hugged him and close my eyes. I was so tired.

"You literally sleeping while standing" He kissed my head and hugged me back.

"To be honest I can't really stand..." I blushed and he laughed a little.

"You sleeping in my bed kid... thats it" He said and picked me up and took me to his bed.

"I am not sleeping naked tho..."I said and he just helped me to put one of his t-shirt on and my pajama pants back on.

I instantly did fall asleep in his arms.

I woke up with pure panic. Because clock on the nightstand said 11 am. That means Nick is up for sure. And that means there is no way to sneak out without him knowing.

"Matt..." I started to wiggled from his arms.

"Mhm?" He moved away and stretched.

"It's almost noon... they are probably up already" I said and covered my face with my hands.

"Baby... thats okay.. it's going for long enough. I wanna finally take you out and spent time together without pretending that you are my bro and that I'm having a fucking secret affair with some random girl that I am not telling my brothers about. Because you are far from that. I do understand that you are friends with Nick and it's like bros code or whatever you think it is. But I think is time..." He looked at me.

Like chilled out weren't you asleep 3 seconds ago? It is too early for this.

"I know..." I breathed out heavily.

"So? Let's go.. if they are up they are probably in the kitchen." He got up and pulled a shirt on because he was sleeping only in his pj pants.

I also got up and pulled my hoodie on and fixed my hair.

"Oh... good morning... so I am waking up, right? Looking next to me...my best friend? Gone. I though... maybe something happened...I texted her phone... still on my nightstand by the way. I looked through the window, her car is still here. So I came down stairs... Chris was already here. I asked him... Did you see y/n by any chance? Chris said no.. but unfortunately he wanted some water at 3 am.. he didn't see her just heard her... FUCKING MY OTHER BROTHER" Nick was looking at us from the kitchen table.

"Do not be dramatic Nick..."Matt started.

"Oh I am not being dramatic I lost 50 bucks to him. Because we had a bet if you tell us first or we will find out this way..." He pointed at us.

"So you knew?" I asked looking at him.

"Of course I knew... I always know. Free pass only this one time both of you. No more secrets. Like what the fuck? I am happy you're happy and I wouldn't be mad" He said.

"Im sorry... I love you" I came up to him and gave him a hug. He only patted my back.

"Alright, alright you should only be sorry for Chris. He is traumatized" He laughed.

Matt laughed as well but I felt embarrassed.

"I am kidding, you are fine" He said.

"Also I must say... I always knew you guys will end up together" He said and I smiled at Matt.

"No more secret affair..." Matt laughed.

"No more" I said.

"So should we go out for breakfast?" Nick asked.

"Yes, please, I am starving..." I said.

"Too many burned calories, huh?" Nick asked.

"Oh my god now it will never end.... let's go back to the secret affair actually" I covered my face with my hands.

[cevansbrat0007]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMr8fYuj5/

I can see so clear Bird putting Ari in the dog house again and later in the day he arrives at her home with a bag full of her favorites snacks, heat pads, painkillers and a note for his sweet wild woman

Summary: Somehow, Ari always seems to know all the right ways to take care of you...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Fluff, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Brat!Reader, References to Menstrual Cycles & PMS, Cuddles, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You automatically perk up from your place on the couch when you hear the slam of your front door. Ari had left the house hours ago, muttering something under his breath that you hadn’t quite been able to make out. 

“Beast?” You call when he doesn’t immediately appear. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“Is that my Bird in there?” He quickly fires back. “Is that who I’m talkin’ to?”

His unexpected dramatics immediately set your teeth on edge. Just what the hell did he mean by all that?

“Who the hell else would it be?” Your question comes out sounding more like a growl. 

Instead of answering you’re treated to the sound of footsteps as Ari finally makes his way to you. But instead of coming all the way into the room, you’re confused when he chooses to poke his head around the corner. 

“Just checking.” His wary blue eyes are sparkling with a hint of mirth. 

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“Nah, baby. Just bein’ careful.” Ari steps out hiding then, his brawny arms laden with several brown grocery bags.

“Why the hell would you have to be careful?”

“Because when I walked out the house earlier I did so under the impression that my woman had been replaced by one of those she-demons you only read about in books.” He offers you an unrepentant shrug before setting his purchases on the opposite sofa. “Aww, c’mon now. Don’t make that face."

“I’m not makin’ any kinda face, you Beast.” You huff, doing your damndest not to pout. “I just don’t know what the hell you’re goin’ on about.”

“Then how come you’re over there looking like you’ve been suckin’ on a lemon?” The handsome bastard has the nerve to smile at you as begins digging items out of one of the bags. 

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not, you –” Your petty retort is interrupted when your bounty hunter suddenly chucks an orange bag at your head. Thankfully, you manage to catch it before it makes contact with your face. “Jalapeño cheetos?”

“Yep.” He grunts, giving you a knowing look. “I also got you the regular ones too in case you decide those are suddenly too spicy for you.”

“Oh.” Is all you can muster, turning the bag over in your hands. These were your favorites whenever you allowed yourself to indulge. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah. Not done yet, baby.” 

You watch as he systematically begins pulling items out of the bags. He also makes a point of showing you each one, much to your overall chagrin. 

“Let’s see…” Ari moves the bags to the floor, which allows you to get a good, long look at all of the treats and treasures he procured while he was out. “We’ve got us another bag of Cheetos, plus a bag of white cheddar cheese popcorn. Next up, we’ve got two hefty slices of strawberry cheesecake. I got my own, so you don’t have to share,”

Smart man.

“I mean…” You quietly hedge, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip. “I don’t know why you felt compelled to buy all this stuff.” 

“Oh you don’t, huh?” His eyes go wide as he cocks his head to the side.

“Nope.” The word tumbles out of your mouth with a soft pop.

Instead of responding he chooses to simply ignore you. “Here we have a variety of chocolate bars – milk chocolate, milk chocolate with fuckin’ caramel, milk chocolate with some kinda weird nougaty shit, you get the idea.” He spares a glance in your direction long enough to study your face. “We’ve also got dark chocolate with both sea salt and some kind of intense orange peel somethin’. Do any of these work for you?”

“Why, yes, all of them but–”

“Moving on, I’ve got a box of cocoa, peppermint tea, and oh! Nearly forgot the fuckin’ heating pad.” Ari holds up the box so that you can see it. “If this isn’t the right one I will go back out and buy another.” 

The seriousness of his features makes it plain that he’s not kidding. He gingerly hands the box to you, giving you a moment to peruse the information included on the box.

How the hell could he have known that yours had only just gone out? Oh. Because you’d mentioned it the night before last. It always seemed to surprise you just how much this man seemed to listen to you. 

“This is...this is good.” You tell him, hugging the box to your chest. “It’s great, actually.”

“Thank Christ.” He breathes, relief evident in his tone. 

“Ari, did you do all this because I was feeling a little snippy this morning?” While his intentions were sweet, they also felt like a little over the top 

“Snippy? Is that what we’re calling it?” His tawny brows shoot up high enough to reach his hairline. “Because this morning you threatened to beat me with a sack of oranges for snoring too loud.”

Oh. Right. Oops.

“And when I made the mistake of walking on the carpet in my work boots, you literally threatened to unman me.”

“I was worried about the mud.” You mumble with a wince. 

“And the fact that you just so happened to be aggressively chopping vegetables at the time? Pure coincidence?”

“Yep.” Your voice comes out so small you almost surprise yourself.

“And then, when I tried to apologize and take ‘em off, you told me you were gonna throw me and them into the nearest lake. And then fly in a pack of gators to make sure that we were never seen or heard from again.” 

“A joke.” You try once more. “That’s all.”

“Yeah well, I’m not the type of man to make jokes about a woman’s monthly bein’ on the horizon.” Ari picks up a small box of what looks to be medication. “But even so, I also know how to count.” He adds with a shrug before taking a step towards you. “My sisters swear up and down that this Midol shit works wonders with demon feelings.”

“Thank you.” Your bottom lip begins to tremble when your man reaches out to gently cup your chin.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No.” You reassure him, your hand going to gently grip his wrist so you can stroke your thumb over his pulse “I’m sorry.”

Ari stares you at you for a beat, before finally leaning down to tenderly brush his mouth over yours. “S’alright, sweet Bird.” He repeats the action, smiling into the kiss when he feels you relax against him. “I reckon it ain’t all your fault.” 

“You’re too good to me, baby.” You try to pull him down on the couch with you, only to pout when he resists.  “C’mere…” You whine. “I wanna make it up to you.”

“Let me go put this stuff away first.” He rises to his full height before politely taking the box from your hands. “Unless you want some of it now.”

You take a minute to think. “Just some chocolate please.”

“Any preference?”

“Dealer’s choice.” 

Ari tosses you a random bar, which you eagerly accept without so much as a second look. You tear into it, barely removing the foil before taking a bite. It goes down so good you can’t help but have another.

“Now, I won’t be gone but a minute.” Just in case, he decides to leave you with the box of Midol as well. 

Meanwhile, you decide that it’s in your best interest to remain quiet. Because unbeknownst to this man, you had actually gotten your period today sometime after he’d left the house.

“And if those demon feelings start to come back, you just pop a couple of those, alright?” He’s still so incredibly serious about this that all you can do is nod.. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you.” You’re rewarded with a flash of teeth posing as a grin. “And when I get back, do you, uh…” He rolls his broad shoulders. “You think you got any room for me on that couch?”

Instead of responding, you choose to offer him a bite of your chocolate. You’re secretly more than a little giddy when he accepts. It was a sign that all was forgiven. 

“Why don’t you hurry back and find out?”

Still grinning, you watch as Ari hastily gathers up all of your goodies before taking off in the direction of the kitchen. “Go on and turn on one of those horror movies you like, little Bird. I’m gonna need you to snuggle close to make up for how you treated me today.” 

With that he’s gone, leaving you with just enough time to retrieve extra blankets and pillows from a nearby closet. Forget a heating pad. Having you man this close was practically like having a human furnace at your beck and call. 

Jesus Christ, how did you get so lucky?

“Beast?” You let your voice ring out as soon as you’ve found yourself a good movie. It’s been ages since you’ve watched Paranormal Activity, and you had it on good authority that Ari had never seen it.

“Yeah?” He bellows from the next room.

“Bring us a slice of cheesecake to share. I wanna enjoy it with you before we get too scared.”

“Whatever you want, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he's laughing at you in the sweetest way possible.

And quite honestly, in this moment, you wouldn't have it any other way. 

END

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[stuckwthem]

hii could i req a matías recalt x virgin!reader smut ? reader is enzo’s little sister, and so she has to deal with matías and agustin hanging out at their place almost every day. but she doesn’t mind it because she’s practically best friends with agustin. and she has a crush on matías! one day, when enzo and agustin go out to buy some stuff, matías and reader are left alone and they start to keep each other company. one thing leads to another and after they’re done, matías says “who knew i would be the one taking your virginity” 😣😣

altitude | matias recalt

summary: you and matías have a thing going on, but never went cross that line...until then. matías recalt x virgin!femreader

tw: smut, fingering, cuss words, situationship, 4k words of pure profanity

this smut is named after this song. sooo, yeah.

it all started on the last trip, when you first started to hang out with the boys. enzo was not very exactly pleased with the idea of you around all the other guys, not that he was jealous, just a little protective, but after all, they were his friends and he could trust them. agustin, one of the closest friends of your brother and also your best friend even helped you when you tried to convince enzo, so he had no option but to accept. his little sister was coming together and spending three weeks with all those boys and their girlfriends. and, inevitably developing a huge crush on one of his friends, matías.

you knew matías. you knew him very well since he started to stick around in your house, always getting second glances and sneaky smiles until you two really got closer. he would be all day on your business, using your brothers as an excuse to come to your house and talk to you. matías had a knack for finding reasons to be around. whether it was helping enzo fix something, teaching you how to skate (which was his idea), or just "passing by" to chat and drink some mate, he always found a way. and you couldn't help but notice the way he'd linger a little longer each time. your initial conversations were casual, filled with shy laughter and plots against your brother, but it didn't take long for the undertones of something more to emerge. enzo, occupied with his own life, didn't notice the subtle shift in dynamics between you and his friend.

since you two started to hook up, boundaries have been established. you were a virgin, and to the moment it all began, you weren’t willing to hand the privilege of having you on a plate to any guy. matías respected it, of course, he always had been careful to not cross lines or make you uncomfortable, always stopping when you felt it was too much or when you showed just a slightly uncertainty. but lately, ever since the last make-out session, things have been kinda different. your mind keeps going back to sex. with him. constantly.

besides, after all this time with matías, you never felt more sure, more confident, and there's no doubt he's the one you'd wanna cross that line with.

thats why it was getting hard to hide how just sitting next to him made you nervous and eager, shaking your legs nonstop, what would always catch matías attention, and discreetly he would put his knee close to yours or just get a bit closer. but this time, almost like he could read your thoughts, he was somehow bolder, putting his hand on your thigh. 

your breathing hitched when you felt his cold fingers caressing your bare skin, automatically putting you on alert. shame on you for putting your tiniest short.

you tried to ignore how much it affected you, trying not to attract the attention of your brother or agustin, who were sitting on the other sofa across the room playing some game on tv, but controlling your sighs became increasingly difficult as matías' restless hand began to explore the inner part of your thigh a little more, slowly going down and up, in total provocation. just act cool, you said to yourself, continuing to scroll on your phone, as if you didn't even care. but his plan was to make things harder for you, a perverse challenge. his fingers were dangerously close to your shorts hem, tangling in the fabric and then returning to your skin, drawing small circles.

matías was loving every second of it, you could see the mischievous smirk on his lips. son of a bitch. you couldn't deny you liked it, the cold touch of his skin against yours making you hotter, like an anticipation, making you want more. you finally mustered the courage to speak, your voice a mere whisper to avoid attracting attention.

"matías, stop this. they are right there," you warned, trying to convey a sense of urgency through your hushed words.

not that the thing between yall was forbidden, but you both understood the potential repercussions it could have on the dynamic within the group. and you didn’t know how enzo would handle this, so for the better, matías and you chose to keep it on the low. besides, the risky feeling was addicting and the situationship was not that serious. you didn’t even had sex, if you consider fingering and blowjobs apart of it.

he leaned in, his lips close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "why stop when it's so much fun?" he replied, his warm breath against your skin causing a flutter in your stomach.

that 's it. you would lose your mind. you took a deep sigh, giving him an annoyed side eye while crossing your legs, getting away from his hand. deep down, you loved it. he knew how this kind of thing affected you, he knew how you almost had no experience and how any slightest teasing made you feel.

matías laughed quietly, suddenly interested in the tv when agustin turned around, looking between you. agustin had an idea of what was going on, he wasn't stupid, he knew exactly how to annoy you with it, but he only squinted his eyes in your direction.

“you good there?” your best friend asked, with a smirk on his lips. you gulped, knowing exactly what he was doing. “you look kind of…red.” 

“yeah, i’m fine.” you coughed nervously, running a hand through your hair while discreetly flashing your middle finger at the older man. enzo turned to look at you, with a frown. “just hot. its very hot in here, right? you know what, i'm gonna make us a drink!”

you stood up from the sofa with a forced, cynical smile on your face and adjusted your shorts, pulling them down a little as your eyes burned into matías, who had his hand clenched into a fist over his mouth, hiding his smile. he raised his eyes to meet yours and gave you a slight wink. the devil in disguise.

you rushed your way to the kitchen, leaning on the sink and enjoying the feel of the cold marble against your abdomen, taking a deep breath and trying to go back to a time when you weren't being completely controlled by your hormones.

“actually, the boys have just texted me. esteban and fran are already around, we're going to get some beers.” you heard enzo from the living room. 

“i'm coming with you” agustin's voice echoed in response. 

great. you heard the keys jangling, and then the door closing. no sign of matías or his voice. maybe he'd given up that little game and joined the boys. you could take a cold shower until they got back and forget how much you were craving his fingers, a little further down your shorts.

you then decided to prepare your lemonade, silently picking through the things in the kitchen. as you focused on preparing the drink, the rhythmic sound of the juicer drowned out the lingering thoughts of matías's teasing. or you tried to. 

“why are you escaping from me?” caught off guard by matías's sudden presence, you turned around to find him standing there, his voice unexpectedly filling the air. “did i do something wrong?”

your heart skipped a beat. matías was standing there, a playful glint in his eyes and a mischievous smile playing on his lips again. now that you two were alone, you wanted to jump on him, but decided to go ahead with that silly little game.

you rolled your eyes, attempting to sound nonchalant, "i just wanted a lemonade. and for the record, i wasn't trying to escape from anything."

“uhum” he nodded, getting closer to you as you poured the juice on two cups. he caught a slice of lemon from the counter and sucked it, casually, watching you carefully. “so, can i kiss you now?”

you tried to maintain your composure, suppressing the urge to smile as you handed matías a cup of lemonade. his casual demeanor and teasing antics were both infuriating and exhilarating.

rolling your eyes, you replied, "smooth, matías. real smooth. you know it's not that easy."

“no?” he said, an almost innocent expression on his face. you wanted to ruin it. 

matías put one of his arms on the counter, making you lean your back against it. the boy took a sip of the juice and then left it under the counter, taking advantage of his movement to get even closer. his body pressed against yours. 

“no” you replied, hiding your smile in your cup, taking a sip while looking into his eyes. 

his hands went to your waist, holding it gently. then, his nose trailed a way into your neck, making you turn on in the very same instant. you knew you couldn’t resist it for very long. his lips quickly replaced his nose, slowly kissing the sensitive skin of your throat, causing a ragged breath to escape your mouth. when he heard the glass being placed on the counter, matías smiled against your skin, knowing that he had already won.

“you smell so good” the boy whispered, kissing his way up to your jaw. his voice reverberating through your whole body, reaching an exact point.

your arms quickly wrapped around the back of his neck and he laughed, pulling away just enough to look at your face, finding your eyes already heavy and hazy.

“you still don't want to kiss me?” matías teased, biting his lower lip, making no effort to hold back a smile.

“shut up, recalt” you exclaimed, drawing a laugh from both of you before hungrily attacked his soft lips, feeling the citric taste on his tongue. 

it wasn’t a regular kiss, you could feel it with the way things escalated very quickly. you knew what could happen. it seemed like just having his lips against yours wasn’t enough. the proximity of your bodies wasn’t enough. in a hurry, matías bent down, slipping his hands behind your thighs and pulling your body up, placing you on the counter. immediately, your hands went down to the collar of the boy's shirt and your legs encircled his waist, pulling him even closer to you. 

slowly, matías' tongue rubbed against yours, eliciting such a sweet, spontaneous sound from you that the boy felt his whole body tense up, increasing his desire even more. when you realized the effect you had on him, you wasted no time in devoting your attention to the older boy's neck. with your heavy breathing meeting his sensitive skin, you left small bites and marks to be admired later. the grip of matías' hands on your waist intensified as your bodies sought each other out, initiating a movement of disjointed friction.  

"fuck, you're going to drive me fucking insane" his husky voice sounded so weak that it was impossible not to smile against his skin, satisfied.

as if to prove his point, matías pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, pressing the inside of your thigh against his crotch. a sigh escaped your lips as you felt how hard he was, making your abdomen cool and warm at the same time. taking advantage of the cue, your hands slowly made their way down the boy's chest, scratching him over his shirt until they reached the waistband of his shorts. you felt matías' throat rise and fall heavily against your lips, and just as you were about to touch him, he pulled away, leaving you confused.

"did i do something wrong?" your voice came out breathless, in a worried tone. you stared at the boy, his lips swollen and red, his gaze fixed on you, as if determined. "mati...i..."

"shh" he whispered, drawing back, placing his index finger between your lips. matías let out a small laugh and bit your chin, moving down your neck in return for what you had done earlier. "it's my turn now, huh? i need to return some old favors."

your eyes roll with the intoxicating sensation of feeling him descend his mouth to your collarbone, licking and sliding down to your shoulders. your tank top is taken off so quickly that you have no time to process what happens when he returns his kisses to your skin, rubbing his nose down the middle of your breasts, sucking on the part just above the fabric of your bra. you gasp softly, directing one of his hands through your hair and the other to your shoulder. he licks just below your ribcage and then traces a path to the button of your shorts. you open your eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to take in what's happening as he opens the button and slips his hand inside the shorts, feeling how damp it was under the thin fabric of the panties.

"fuck," he mutters, gasping as he stares at you over his eyelashes. 

you feel your cheeks burn and matías now seems completely deluded at the feel of you, his index and ring finger slowly stroking the wet, still covered length. "all that for me?" 

your hand squeezes the boy's shoulder in reflex, and you nod, unable to formulate a sentence. your mind is too cloudy and light to think of anything else. 

he hisses a "may i?", coming face to face with you again. with your voice weak, you manage to agree with a feeble "uh huh" and then matías pulls the elastic of your panties aside, brushing your lips with his two fingers as he reaches your entrance.

a sultry moan echoes through the kitchen as he slowly moves his fingers inside you, and without daring to breathe, the two of you stare at each other. matías' mouth is slightly open, watching you intently, carefully discovering the exact points that make you shudder. he curves his fingers a little and your back arches, your breasts meeting the boy's chest, and just that small sensation of friction makes your body tremble.

"matías" you whisper softly, digging your nails into the skin of the boy's back under the t-shirt as he keeps working his fingers deeper into you, his thumb now gently circling your clit. 

you can almost see stars as the warm, liquid sensation grows in your womb. your legs start to tremble as he starts to speed up his pace and there you know it's not enough, you want more of this, of that sensation, of his closeness.

you finally feel ready and there's no one else who you would want to do that for you other than matías, who understands you and your desires so well. 

"i need you" you whisper again, your body falling back a little, weakly. matías seems too focused, his eyes fixed on your lips that pull in air with difficulty. "matías"

"i know, i know," he replies, as lost as you are. another moan, this time a little louder, escapes him as he pushes his fingers upwards. 

"inside me, mati. i need you inside me" your confession seems to be enough fuel for the sensation at the base of your stomach to explode.

matías looked at you, somehow surprised and amused, working with his fingers inside even harder. something seizes your body for a few seconds, making you dizzy and breathless, clenching against matías' hand inside you. 

the boy moaned as his body shuddered along with yours, the mark on the denim fabric of his shorts getting bigger and bigger.

"yeah? you sure, linda?" matías questioned, eager. his eyes met yours once more, and you nodded with assurance. “we don’t have to rush just because…you know, i want you to have a good time, princesa.”

“i'm having a perfect time” you laughed, softly, wicked. honestly, it was comforting to see how he much cared. the insecurities about anything related to this no longer existed in your mind. “i’m sure, amor”

your lips crashed into matías' again, now a little slower, sweeter and softer as he withdrew his fingers from you, making the empty sensation ache and tighten your muscles. matías broke the kiss only to lick his own fingers, drying all the honey from his hand with delight, making you think the most inappropriate things possible.

you kissed him again, now feeling your taste mixed with the boy's saliva, a completely depraved sensation.

"let's go upstairs," you ordered against the boy's lips, who didn't hesitate for a second to lift you off the counter and carry you up the stairs to your bedroom, a familiar spot to him.

once you have entered the room, matías gently sits you on your bed, his attitude a little calmer and more patient now. hot and sweaty, you remove your shorts and panties at once, while the boy stares at you. matías runs a hand through his hair and sighs at the sight as you slowly take off your bra, revealing your breasts to the boy, who looks at you from head to toes with devotion.

you reach into the bedside drawer, grabbing a condom from under your clean panties, prepared for a moment like this. it was almost unbelievable, but it was happening.

"sit down" you ask, patting your hand on the side of the bed.

he looks serious now, but doesn't contest it, following your request.

swallowing dryly, hoping to get it right, you stand up, unbuttoning matías' shorts and pulling them over his boxers. 

"they'll be back any minute," you warn, not wanting to waste a single minute.

even with all the little you've learned throughout your life, you nervously approach the boy once again, opening the laminated package. your hands shake a little with adrenaline, but soon matías helps you, cautiously coating his member with the condom.

carefully, you cross your legs over matías' lap, both of you gasping at the friction that your sensitive core exposed against his bare skin causes.

your hands drag the fabric of the boy's shirt upwards, pulling it over his neck. when the collar passes over his head, messing up his hair, you both giggle, the atmosphere of the intimate and intense moment hanging over you.

"hi" matías murmurs, affectionately, as he admires your face. his hand runs from your waist and reaches the back of your neck, stroking your hair.

"hi," you reply as well, still with a little breathy giggle. the two of you take a moment to appreciate each other, contemplating the sensations that come with it. "is it okay if i stay on top of you? am i not hurting you?" 

"no, not at all. don't worry," matías laughed, pressing his lips to your temple in a tender kiss.

your chest was about to explode with the force of your heart beating against your ribs, a warm, euphoric feeling coursing through your body. matías smiled, sharing the same satisfaction, unable to believe his luck. your gazes intertwined, revealing the vulnerability and anxiety that hung in the air. the atmosphere between the two of you became electric, and the tension was palpable, even though you felt pleasantly calm. 

slowly, you leaned on matías' shoulders, and with his help, positioned yourself right above his member, which was throbbing at your entrance. a long, broken sigh came from both of your lips, taking in the new sensation. this was the moment that would share a before and after, that all intimacy and vulnerability would consume you completely. 

matías lifted his hips slowly and eagerly, slowly fitting himself inside you. you could feel the intangible connection being established as he moaned your name, entering your pussy. your forehead rested on the boy's shoulder, and between gasps and moans, both of you began to move against each other. your thighs instinctively locked against matías', helping you to roll onto his cock. 

"fuck. oh fuck." you moaned, while matías' hand was still in your hair, stroking and pulling. the boy's free arm wrapped tightly around your waist, helping you to balance and move on top of him.

"is everything all right?" he asked, his husky voice sounding distant but so close. his mouth brushed against the edge of your ear, sending a shiver down the back of your spine.

"yeah. it's great." the pain at first was a little overwhelming, feeling him enter you fully as your walls squeezed him, but it soon diminished, being almost completely replaced by pleasure. it was good, delicious and calm. 

you moved your face away from his shoulder to look directly at him now, being able to carefully watch every change in matías' expression, while he did exactly the same. your faces contorted into mirror-like revelations of pleasure, the moans repeated in unison as your bodies moved in harmony. 

“like this, yeah, bebé” matías murmured, his hand palmed at the end of your back, holding as you rocked into him, whimpering. “god, you feel amazing. so fucking tight.”

he sounded absolutely wrecked, lost in the pleasure, combusting with the way your body went up and down above him, bouncing on his dick. you couldn't help it, you were moaning –  groaning, to be more truthful. asking for more, begging shamelessly. 

“that noise…keep doing it, you're being so good. such a good girl, right?” matías kept talking you through it, until he shared his attention with your boobs, sucking and licking your nipples. you buckled your hips with the feeling, so emerged on the way his tongue worked around your areola, throwing your head back. lost, just like him.

then, as the movements began to intensify, faster and faster and your hips more skillful, matías began to fuck you as he had been kissing you before. hungry, torpid and willing to satisfy you. his hands went down to the curve of your ass, pulling your body more and more impossibly onto his dick, your skin like dough in his hands, molding it the way he wanted it. the sounds of your body against his along with the breathing and cursing were totally obscene, becoming an impulse for you to seek more of it.

the stars in your eyes seemed to come close again as the sweat ran down your back, feeling complete with matías inside you. filled. it was an unforgettable and incomparable sensation. you knew you would become addicted.

“i never felt anything like this before, never” you heard matías say. your hands went up to his cheeks and hair, holding his face as you rode him nonstop. a smile stamped your face, reflecting his. “say you want me, and i’m yours” 

your stomach dropped, the feeling on your womb deepened. his tired voice saying things like this to you was so good to hear as the way he was fucking you. the cold current seized your abdomen again, as if warning you that you were close to cumming, and you could barely put the words together.

“don’t say that, matías. don’t play with me” you responded, looking into his eyes. 

matías was absorbed with pleasure but surely not saying things without meaning it. he shook his head negatively, thrusting more slowly against your hip now, making your eyes roll so hard they hurt.

“i’m being honest. say the word.” he sounded so serious, so close to your lips, so deep into you.

matías was slowly guiding your pleasure to a point where it was almost impossible to hold back an orgasm. then, you allowed yourself to let the sensation consume you once again, this time more intensely, your fingers twitched and your mind went into an almost unconscious state, eliciting a guttural moan from you. you felt the warm liquid drip from your womb and soak matías, it was almost like floating.

“i want you. god, how i want you” you exclaimed tenderly between ragged breaths, while the boy was still searching for that same sensation that you had just reached inside you.

it was enough for matías to completely collapse inside you, mumbling dumb your name. you felt his hot, sweaty body shudder beneath yours, relaxing completely little by little until he could open his eyes again. a feeling of satisfaction ran through your body, and you honestly had no idea if it was just from the dopamine of the orgasm or knowing that matías had been your first. and his arms were still there, wrapped around you while an affectionate gaze , while he admired you, all of you. the sweat going down your forehead, your smile, the weight of your body above him. everything, matías appreciated every second. you kissed him, a lazy and sloppy kiss, just enjoying that high together, and then a silly thought crossed your mind.

"i guess my brother was right to keep me away from the boys," you murmured, panting and giggling against his lips.

"who knew i would be the one," matías laughed too, biting your lip. "the lucky one for taking your virginity."

a slap on the arm caught him by surprise, and you feigned false offense, pretending to be completely innocent. but the calm didn't last long. five minutes of trying to get back to normal and you heard the keys in the door, the boys' voices, and footsteps inside. you were screwed, literally. you didn't even have time to dwell on the absence of aftercare.

"shit, shit, shit," you exclaimed in exasperation, getting up from on top of the boy, who quickly removed the condom, tossing it into the trash bin in the corner.

both of you nervously laughed, enjoying the situation as you tried to readjust. you tied your hair into a messy bun and then quickly tamed matías' strands. you were sweaty and red like two runners, anyone could tell by the little smiles on your faces.

"we'll still having talk about that," matías referred to the moment earlier, approaching and giving you a kiss, longer and deeper than it should be. but still, in a failed attempt to disguise it, you agreed, laughing, and pushed him out of the room.

and then, reality struck. your tank top. on the kitchen floor, damn.

you dressed in the first shirt you saw, probably a mistake, and went downstairs, walking as calmly and unbothered as possible. luckily, the boys were still in the living room while matías engaged in a seemingly casual conversation with them as if he didn't just came inside you. you suppressed the smile that came when you remembered the feeling of being on top of him just minutes ago, biting your lips, and entered the kitchen, finding agustin with a beer pack in one hand and your tank top in the other.

you froze right at the door, feeling the color drain from your face completely. and then, he looked in your direction, aware of your presence. he assessed your expression, your sudden change of clothes, and all the other little details. his gaze shifted over your shoulders to matías in the living room, and then, agustin laughed – no, he actually burst into laughter. laughed so hard that he had to lean against the fridge seeing your shocked state. you had been caught.

━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━

yeah. i'm shocked too.

i had so much fun - hornyness - writing this. thank you so much for the ask!! i really tried to follow your idea, just changed the phrase a litlle bit. i hope i made justice to your need ;)

again, if you have a request for the lsdln boys just please send me a ask!!

sorry for any spelling mistake :p