#but hey I have moved out of a terrible place and to a much more peaceful and less anxiety-inducing one

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all. 

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative. 

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water. 

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury. 

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat. 

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?” 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door. 

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes. 

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?��

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand. 

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his. 

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on. 

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.” 

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not. 

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.” 

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.” 

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse. 

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?” 

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot. 

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?” 

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over. 

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.  

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.  

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.  

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly. 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.  

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles. 

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.  

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no. 

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch. 

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated. 

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar. 

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.” 

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.” 

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second. 

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.    

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over. 

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?” 

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.” 

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.” 

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing. 

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself. 

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces. 

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

 You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.” 

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.” 

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it. 

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.  

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”  

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at. 

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?” 

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”      

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down. 

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut. 

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?” 

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly. 

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.  

Alright, one step at a time.   

[peaches2217]

Untarnished

Chapter 1 (TW: Brief but graphic descriptions of burn injuries)

AO3 Link | Previous Chapter

~~~

Bright lights. Distant beeping. Something soft beneath her head, silky and downy and pleasantly cool. Peach’s first conscious thought was a timid prayer of gratitude. She was dead, or she was dreaming a new and unfamiliar dream; both prospects filled her with a peace deeper than she’d felt in months.

Dead, she decided when she opened her eyes and found Toadsworth at her bedside. The strain of her abduction and taking charge of the kingdom in her absence must have killed him. The thought didn’t bring her as much sadness as she felt it should have, because her slender hand in his small, wrinkled hands felt just as it had in life, and fat tears of joy and relief rolled down his round cheeks and dripped from the tips of his mustache, and if only she had the energy, she would have cried too.

No — dreaming, she amended when Toadette joined him. Her lady-in-waiting was still far too healthy and young and feisty to have dropped dead suddenly, unless by some great coincidence. Peach was laying at a slight angle, her legs straight out but her upper body inclined; Toadette climbed up into her lap (which Toadsworth objected to vehemently, but his protests, naturally, went unheard) and threw her arms around her neck, and suddenly she was crying too. Yes, this was certainly a dream. Since when did Toadette cry?

“I made wishes for your safety every single day!” she said between hiccuping sobs. “And I kept your room dusted and aired it out every day and had the maids change the bedding every week because I knew you’d be coming home! But I’m— oh Peach Pit I’m so happy you’re alive!”

Peach's throat suddenly felt tight, almost suffocating. She’d never dreamed about going home. In her dreams, she simply hadn’t been abducted to begin with, or else her abduction was treated as a memory so distant that it scarcely crossed her mind.

She didn’t dare let herself believe this might be real; perhaps waking up would be even harder now, and perhaps it would finally sap the last thread of hope she uselessly clung to, but for now, what was the harm in enjoying this strange dream? False happiness is still happiness, however temporary. So she let herself hug her dear friend back, and she let herself reach out and find Toadsworth’s hand once more, and she let herself feel present in their company and protected by the plush blanket tucked around her. It all felt so fuzzy and surreal and good.

And then the screaming began.

Instantly Peach’s blood froze in her veins. Her surroundings didn’t shift or go dark, as they usually did when she was startled out of a dream, and though she felt cold, everything around her remained warm. Even her illusionary Toadsworth and Toadette reacted to the sound, twisting their necks in alarmed horror in its direction — some room to the left of where Peach lay, it seemed.

By the second scream, a nagging sense of familiarity kicked in. She knew the wall she and her steward and lady-in-waiting stared at, recognized the muted pink wallpaper with white and dark pink accents. Didn’t the castle infirmary have that same wallpaper? She rarely had need to visit, lest she might have been able to place it sooner.

And she knew that voice. She couldn’t quite place it, since the cries were wordless and muffled by a layer of dressed stone, yet it made her stomach turn all the same. It was guttural, it was heart-wrenching, it was—

By the third scream, it all came flooding back.

“Y-your Highness, please—”

“Peach, hey, it’s okay, lay back down—”

“Princess, you mustn't—!”

More familiar voices surrounded Peach, voices she should have been happy to hear, but she paid them no mind. Something was holding her back. A blanket. A body. A wire taped to her hand. She winced as she ripped herself free, her feet moving independently of her mind, which assaulted her with vision after vision after terrible vision.

Mario, collapsing to the cobblestone streets of Toad Town in pure exhaustion, fate catching up to him once more. Mario, his face strained and his spine slumped but his eyes ever sure, wincing and hissing through his teeth but soldiering on anyway, stopping only to ensure that she was able to do the same. Mario, a broken heap at her feet, scorched to the point of disfigurement and motionless in a pool of his own blood.

Mario, screaming in unbearable pain, just out of her reach.

This was no dream.

Something caught her right hand just as she reached the door.

“They’re taking care of him!” Toadette cried somewhere behind her. “You’ve gotta let us take care of you, too!”

Some job “they’re” doing, Peach wanted to snap back. She could help him. How long had she been unconscious? Surely she had enough magic back now — she could continue mending the worst of his wounds, or she could help “them” fix him more quickly, or at the absolute least she could rearrange the receptors in his brain and make him think he wasn’t in pain. 

She tried to yank free of Toadette’s grasp, but she only held on tighter.

“I can help him.” She tried again, throwing her body forward against the much smaller girl’s weight, but it still wasn’t enough. “Just let me help him, and then I’ll return.” 

Then her left hand was seized, just as she tried reaching for the door. “You’re not helping anyone in this state.” Toadessa, head of the castle’s medical staff. She didn’t actively try pulling Peach back as Toadette did, but she remained firmly planted and unmoving. Something hot burned in Peach’s chest and throat, bitter like bile, and though the room was beginning to spin and her legs were already shaking, she tried once more to throw herself forward.

“Let me help him!” she cried. “Please!” She could have easily ordered them to let her go; she was their Princess, and no matter how they wished to help her, her word was still law. But this never crossed her mind. Those agonized shrieks drowned out every last rational thought, and all she could muster were futile efforts to break free and pleas that went unheeded.

Two Toads. It took all of two Toads to hold her back. One more effort was all her body could take before it failed her, and she fell to the infirmary floor with a startled yelp.

By the time she went slack, the screaming stopped.

All Peach could hear now was panicked murmurs behind her and the sound of her own breath, gasping and rapid. Air came too quickly for her lungs to absorb any oxygen. Her hyperventilation only exacerbated her dizziness, and that in turn nauseated her beyond measure, yet she knew vomiting would be of no use, because there wasn’t even anything in her stomach.

Silence rang in her ears. The silence was even more oppressive than the screaming. At least if Mario was screaming, she knew that he was alive.

Not that she could help him anyway. Not if she couldn’t even breathe properly. Not if it only took two Toads to hold her back.

“Your Highness…”

Her hands remained seized, as though she might actually try to escape again. As though she could.

The small but strong hands holding her back were real. The chill where stark tiles met bare skin was real. Mario’s screams, and then his silence, were real. 

Peach’s gasps gave way easily to sobs, yet she couldn’t even do that properly; they came in quiet, punctuated whines, the kinds of sounds an injured animal might emit. She doubled over there on the floor, making her best effort to fold in on herself to stave off the cold and the wooziness and the sheer helplessness that threatened to crush her alive. 

If only it would.

~~~

Peach still shivered as she stood beneath a rain of hot water. Her favorite soap had been brought to her, and while she wanted to revel in this small luxury, its flowery fragrance just made her dizzy. The soap also helped her identify every last scratch and sore on her body, burning with white-hot heat where it touched broken skin, and she wasn't quite sure if she hated the sensation or if she was grateful for it. Whatever the case, she took slow and deep breaths to refamiliarize herself with the way she used to smell, taking care to keep her eyes closed as she scrubbed off.

The lights were just as bright in the infirmary washrooms as they were in the resting rooms. Glimpsing her reflection had been bad enough. She couldn’t bear to look at herself any longer than necessary.

She was even worse off than she’d expected to be. In the first month of her captivity, she had done her best to spread out the single daily meal she was given, eat it slowly over the course of several hours. As despair slowly claimed her, she found she couldn’t even finish her meals at all, and there were days when she refused food outright in favor of curling up on her cot and letting gentler daydreams sustain her. By the time Mario reached her, her skin hugged the bones in her hands closely, and the dress that had been tailored to fit her perfectly hung loosely from her figure. So she had expected to look in the mirror and find herself frailer and paler. Even so, she hadn’t recognized the sickly and bruised figure that stared at her with dull, sunken eyes.

Feeble and filthy and poignantly helpless. She loathed to think that might be Mario’s final image of her.

Another shiver tore through her body. No, that wasn’t the case. He was alive. He was alive and if he was going to die, it wouldn't happen while she bathed. Toadessa had graciously checked and reported back to Peach, and she confirmed his relative well-being with such assurance that she was either telling the truth, or she had suddenly become a spectacular liar. Peach couldn’t afford the energy to suspect.

He was hurt. But he was alive. For now, that was enough.

Toadette was waiting for her when the water shut off, and Peach graciously accepted the oversized, fluffy towel she offered, eager to trap as much of the water and steam’s residual heat as possible. It swallowed her whole while careful fingers worked through her tangled hair, yet she shivered anyway. Still so cold. Why was she still so cold?

The nightgown she donned once her hair was presentable was only slightly better. It too hung from her more loosely than she was used to, but the feel of laundered silk against clean skin made the cold a touch more bearable.

“You oughta have a hot bowl of soup waiting for you by now,” Toadette said from where she knelt on the floor, wrapping the open sores on Peach’s feet in pillowy gauze. Her usually energetic timbre was far quieter, her bright smile more nervous. The brief glimpse Peach caught of her black eyes as sat back to asses her work betrayed even more unshed tears.

Peach couldn’t blame her. She could hardly stand to look at herself. Toadette had no choice. She tried to thank her, or at least apologize, but the words wouldn't come.

She wasn’t hungry, somehow. Perhaps she had grown too accustomed to starvation. Perhaps she would feel differently in a moment’s time, when presented with her first hot meal in three months. She would at least make an effort, she decided, because seeing her eat would lift Toadsworth’s spirits. She owed him that much after the hell she had put him through.

But it wasn’t Toadsworth that awaited her when she was led back into her room. A much taller figure sat hunched over on the leather loveseat against the opposite wall, his knee bouncing frantically, his cap dangling in his hand by the brim; he looked up when he heard Peach, and for a moment she could do nothing but hold his eyes and hold her breath.

“Princess…!” A smile spread across his face, and he slapped his cap back on his head and held his arms out as he stood, and Peach found herself rushing into those arms before her legs could fail her again.

Luigi’s hugs were light but sturdy, his embrace a beacon of security in uncertain times. The embrace he welcomed her into now was no different, solid and gentle and warm, and for the first time, Peach truly felt that she was home.

“Oh, santo cielo!” he whispered into her shoulder. “Per fortuna stai bene…!”

Peach inhaled sharply. No more tears. She was already so sick of crying.

He never pulled away fully. He kept his hands on her shoulders even as their hug ended, beaming at her through misty eyes. “Th-the doctors say you’ll need to eat soup, soup, and more soup for the time being, but lucky for you, Mama knew a thousand ways to make a good soup! So we’re gonna keep ya well-fed, yeah? You’ll be feeling like yourself again in no time!”

He looked… disheveled, in a word. His neatly-styled mustache wasn’t neatly styled at all, fraying at the tips into a series of split ends, and the hair on his head didn’t look much neater. But most obvious were his eyes. The skin beneath them was dark, and his upper eyelids drooped as he spoke, as if he was struggling to keep them open. Seeing him in such disarray made that feeling of home a bit more distant than before.

It made perfect sense for him to be in such a state, Peach supposed. Between a dear friend being kidnapped and his brother…

Wait. Why was he here?

“What about Mario?” She finished her thought aloud. “Where is he? Is he alright? Has he eaten yet?”

“Oh, Peach Pit,” she heard Toadette grumble not far away. Peach couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed, not when she knew how deeply her friend worried for her, but it was still well within her rights to inquire about his health, and she had half a mind to say as much—

“No, no,” Luigi said quickly, leaning sideways so he could speak over her shoulder, “it’s okay! We'll get her fed! Gotta make sure she's comfortable first too.” Then his attention was back on Peach, and he dropped one hand but still kept a point of contact on her shoulder, and Luigi was notoriously squeamish when it came to extended periods of physical contact… 

The first stirrings of dread came alive within her, dark and heavy.

But Luigi’s face remained cheerful, and though his smile softened, it wasn’t sad. “He’s out cold right now. The doctors gave him the good stuff, so he’ll be out for a while, but I’ll bet the first thing he asks for when he wakes up is a big plate of carbonara, and we’ll take care of that! So don’t you worry.”

The corners of his eyes creased, and not just from his smile. These reassurances were as much for his own sake as for Peach’s. Suddenly her tongue felt woolen in her mouth.

“May I see him?” she somehow managed.

Luigi didn’t break from her gaze to seek Toadette or Toadessa or anyone else who might have been in the room’s approval. He nodded without hesitation. “O-of course. Of course.”

She tried not to hold her breath as she was led to the next room over, focusing on her breath and the grounding sting of each footstep. Growing faint or passing out wouldn’t improve his condition.

Not that his condition could get much worse, she realized upon seeing him.

He’d been stripped and washed at some point, but that still didn’t give Peach much to look at. Whatever wasn’t covered with a blanket was swaddled in gauze. Layer upon layer wrapped across his chest and arms and hands, around his midsection, over his shoulders, and their sterile white made the angry red splotches and scratches that peeked from beneath them look that much more painful.

All she could see in full was his face. Aside from a wrap around his head, partially covered by his hair, it remained unobscured. And the absence of soot and dried blood gave Peach a good idea of what the rest of him looked like: wrecked, his skin dark with bruises or else bright with first- and second-degree burns.

In spite of this, he looked… peaceful. His expression read as neutral and his mouth hung loosely open, the gradual rise and fall of his chest assuring Peach that he was breathing. It was even more obvious in this state that he hadn’t touched a razor in days, if not weeks; the stubble on his cheeks and chin had grown out enough that it looked almost like a proper beard. He looked handsome, even now.

Peach exhaled shakily. The picture of serenity on the brink of death. She wanted so badly to take his hand in hers, yet she feared to find it cold to the touch. She feared for the first time that a single touch might break him.

“It looks a lot worse than it is,” she heard Luigi assure beside her. “You shoulda seen him after this scrap he got into with Scapelli back in high school, or the first couple times he tried parkouring through an active construction zone. He didn’t look much better then than he does now!”  

Peach tore her eyes from one unnerving sight to set them upon another. There was concern in Luigi’s tired eyes, concern and fear and uncertainty, and his shoulders slumped under the weight of those burdens. Yet his voice was friendly, his smile kind, and he regarded her with every bit as much fondness as always.

Why? He should hate her. It was for her sake that Mario was like this in the first place. And if he didn’t pull through…

Her vision went unfocused, and she ducked her head and squeezed her eyes shut, as if that alone could stop the guilt that overtook her, or better yet, make her invisible. One less pitiful sight Luigi would be forced to endure. Hadn’t she already put him through enough?

“Hey.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close, and she selfishly accepted his embrace, slumping against him. “Hey, h-he’s gonna be okie-dokie, Princess, you know that! He’s a tough cookie. This is hardly all it’s gonna take to keep him down.”

She wanted to believe him. She wanted so desperately to believe him. But she’d never heard Mario scream like she had today. “He sounded like he was in tremendous pain.” She could barely utter the thought above a whisper.

A pause.

“Well... y-you know how Mario is with doctors,” Luigi eventually answered. “He can get the stuffing beat outta him and walk away just fine, but the second a doctor touches him it’s ‘Oh, the pain! The agony! Mamma mia, make it stop!’” And he laughed, just genuinely enough to fool anyone else, but not well enough to fool her. 

The remnants of a smile still lingered on his lips when she found the nerve to look at him again. How could he smile through all of this? How could he smile at her, the one responsible for his brother's potential demise?

“...They put something really strong on the worst of his, uh… everything,” he finally confessed. “Cleaned ‘em real good then slathered ‘em in some mix of Mushroom tonic and crushed Flowers and…” He laughed again, even less convincing than the first time. “The anesthetics had kicked in just enough to make him kinda loopy, but not enough to knock him out. I’ll bet it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought. He probably just panicked.”

Or he was well enough out of it that he couldn’t hide how badly he hurt any longer. This went unspoken, but the thought hung heavy in the air above them nonetheless. Peach’s mind conjured up a disturbing image: Mario thrashing in agony, his brother pinning him down so the doctors could work, meeting his cries with reassurances stuttered in their shared tongue.

She did her best to force the image from her mind, replace it with the image of Mario resting peacefully before her. She didn’t need to know any more than she already knew. What mattered was the here and now, and here and now, he was alright.

“...I honestly thought it was gonna be a lot worse.” Luigi’s voice was quiet, the slightest bit slurred with exhaustion. “I’m just… happy he’s okay, for now.”

Mario, hurt but clean and on the mend, dozing restfully beneath comfortable sheets— Mario, his face melted and blistering, charred skin sloughing from every exposed plane and floating atop the viscous scarlet that flowed without end—

Peach balled her hands into fists and squeezed until her arms trembled from the force. She had put the younger brother through enough heartache. She alone would bear the truth. It had been worse. So, so much worse. Getting him to the state he was in now — getting him home alive, if only barely — had nearly killed her twice over.

And until she saw him back on his feet, she would continue to wish she had succeeded in giving her life to him. At least then his recovery would be guaranteed.

It should have been her. Why wasn't it her?

Luigi jostled her out of her ruminations, letting go of her shoulders to clap a hand gently against her back.

“How about this: we let him rest, you get some rest too, and I'll come get you when he wakes up. Sound good?"

Peach thought to protest, but she knew any objections would be pointless. Denying herself the chance to heal wouldn't help Mario any faster. She nodded in reluctant agreement, an action which Luigi mirrored.

“Then let's get you some’a that soup, yeah? Toadsworth will have my head mounted on the wall if I let you starve. For that matter, I don’t think Mario would be much happier.”

A new image cut through the morbid memories and visions that weighed heavy in Peach's mind: Toadsworth, chasing a screaming Luigi through the corridors of the castle with a halberd twice his weight and three times his height, a scuffed-up but otherwise healthy Mario looking on from a doorway in some mix of exasperation and amusement.

For the first time since awakening, laughter bubbled in Peach’s chest, fleeting but joyously light.

“‘Ey,” Luigi cheered, his own expression perking up, “there’s a smile! Oh, it’s so good to see you smile again, Princess! C'mon.”

She let her muscles loosen as he led her back towards the door, already prattling on about the hearty tomato soup waiting for her, and his newfound pep made her feel just a bit less heavy. No, martyrdom would benefit no one. To let herself curl up and wish for death, no matter the reasoning, would be to spit in the face of all that Mario had fought so hard for. All that he had nearly died for, too.

Taking one last glance at him as she left the room, she let herself believe for the time being that everything had worked out exactly as it needed to.

As it stood now, they both held a fighting chance for normalcy. Though Peach would have happily given her life for his, she much preferred the thought of them both living, rediscovering their own normals side-by-side, reveling in all of life’s little pleasures together. And if that was selfish of her, well, maybe she could afford to be a bit selfish for now.

~~~

Sleep eluded Peach, which she counted as both a blessing and a curse.

She was tired, so utterly tired, and yet she couldn’t get comfortable. The lights in her room were dimmed, but not turned out entirely for the sake of sporadic nurse visits, confusing her already ruined circadian rhythm. She hadn’t struggled to eat as much as she feared she would; the soup she’d been promised was tangy and sweet and the slightest bit acidic, and she’d scarfed it down while Luigi and a slightly more upbeat Toadette entertained her with lighthearted stories. They’d even managed to draw a few more laughs out of her.

But now her belly felt uncomfortably heavy, and the silence felt heavier still. And she was still so cold. Laying on her back, she couldn’t breathe properly, not helped by her constant shivering. Laying on her side, she could at least pull her blankets tighter around her own huddled form, but curling into herself agitated her full stomach and nauseated her. She'd only had one meal. She didn't care to lose it.

The blessing part of this struggle came from the simple notion that she’d already slept enough. There was little to do in her dungeon but pace and brood and sleep, and she hadn’t even done much of the first two in the past several weeks. No, she decided, folding back her blankets and finding unsteady footing, there was no point tossing and turning. If she was going to remain awake, the least she could do was use her time productively.

This was how she found herself back at Mario’s side in the hour before dawn.

As she approached his bedside, she glanced over at the loveseat against the opposite wall. Luigi was sprawled on its cushions, his cap pulled over his eyes and a thin stream of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, his legs dangling over the sofa’s arm. How many sleepless nights had he endured in these past months? The room was silent save for his soft snoring and the steady beeping of a heart monitor, and Peach intended to keep it that way. Stars knew she owed him that much at least.

Kneeling beside Mario, she hesitantly reached for his hand, steadying her breath before touching his wrist. A sigh of relief forced its way past her lips at their contact. Her fears were unfounded. He was warm.

She spent a moment tracing her fingers over the back of his hand in contemplation. The dark hair that normally covered his skin had been shaved in the name of finding a good vein for an IV drip, and a piece of medical tape beneath a thin layer of gauze held the needle in place, delivering much-needed fluids to his system. A perfect entry point. Though her magic could penetrate even covered skin easily, she found it was most potent when concentrated directly into the bloodstream. Right now, she needed as much potency as possible.

Resting her palm atop that spot, she closed her eyes and focused. Surely there was enough by now. Maybe not enough to heal, but at least enough to ease the pain, or maybe even seal up some of his lesser injuries. 

But even conjuring her magic in the first place proved a great struggle. Her muscles constricted as she called it forth, a dull ache which grew into sharp, stabbing surges, and she dug the nails of her free hand into her thigh to keep herself focused. No matter how she tried, nothing came of her efforts. She willed it forward once, once more, once again, as if dragging a barbed hook through layers of sinew; she sniffed and gasped each time, biting into her tongue to keep any further noise reigned in, and still nothing came of it.

Only once had her own magic caused her such pain: reviving her dead hero, what felt like weeks ago now. But it worked. Her pain bore fruit, and her efforts were rewarded with renewed life. Why wasn’t it working now?

The ambience of the heart monitor came into the forefront of Peach’s senses, its once-steady tone picking up in tempo and compromising her already fragile concentration. 

Her body relaxed against her own volition, and she cursed beneath her breath. Yet as oxygen poured back into her lungs, as blood flow returned to her brain, her frustration morphed into hope. Increased heart rate. If his heart was beating faster, that meant something was happening. That meant her magic was coursing through him, no matter how little, and his body was repairing itself again. Right?

With one last deep breath, she lifted her eyes to his face.

His eyes were already fixed on her.

Peach yelped out in shock before she could stop herself, slapping a hand over her mouth moments too late. That shock was reflected in Mario’s eyes, already wide when their gazes met, growing wider still as they stared one another down; the brilliant blues of his irises caught the blinking lights of assorted medical equipment, cloudy and drowsy but awake and aware.

The monitor hooked to his pulse went haywire, but its frantic beeping faded into ambiance once more.

“Hey,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse from exertion or disuse or some combination of the two, but it was his, and that single word set Peach’s pulse racing every bit as quickly.

“Hey,” she whispered back. He smiled weakly at this, and somehow, she smiled back.

Peach had never been the impulsive sort. As a politician, she made sure to consider her every move deliberately before acting, a habit that had been drilled into her while she was still in high chairs. So she wasn’t quite sure what force compelled her to climb into his bed, nor was she quite sure what force compelled him to make room for her. Whatever their reasoning, three minutes and several careful adjustments later, they laid facing one another, their heads sharing the same pillow, their bodies separated only by her gown and his blanket.

Peach knew well enough how improper this was, and still she didn’t care. Not with Mario so close, so present, so alive. The exertion of rolling onto his side and scooting a few inches back had exhausted him; with his last ounce of physical strength, he draped an arm over her side, weakly flexing it forward, as if trying to pull her closer. She would have happily met him halfway if it didn’t mean losing her line of sight. She wanted to look at him just a moment longer, just to make sure he was really here.

She drew her hand up slowly, careful not to agitate any of his numerous wounds, until at last her fingertips rested at his jawline. That seemed the safest place to touch. Perhaps the only safe place to touch for now.

Mario muttered something beneath his breath, too quiet for Peach to hear, and she feared that even this gentle touch was too much for him.

“Beg pardon?”

“Sorry about the beard,” he repeated, and though his eyes remained closed, he smirked. He was joking. He was awake and aware and alive and cracking jokes. He really was going to be okay.

Though she lay exposed above the blanket, the bitter cold she had grown begrudgingly accustomed to melted away, and warmth penetrated to her very bones.

“Actually, I quite like it,” she found the strength to tease back, and she swore she felt his skin grow hot beneath her fingers.

“Y’do?”

“Mmhm.”

“Mm. Think I should keep it?”

“I think you should do whatever you want for the rest of your life.”

He chuckled at this, deep in his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

Her touch remained light, just in case, but if his facial hair hid any additional injuries, he wasn’t showing it. He looked peaceful beneath her touch, smiling softly as she stroked her thumb along the curve of his jaw. Had he gone without food, too? His face seemed sharper, his cheeks less plump than she remembered. 

She didn’t have very long to muse on this notion. When he eventually peeked his eyes open, they pulled her back into the present moment; they were heavy with impending sleep, and the pain she feared would remain etched into them eternally was nowhere to be found. All she could see in those eyes was adoration. Adoration so strong and pure that it made her feel impossibly small yet equally unstoppable, so obvious that she wondered how she hadn’t seen it before.

Perhaps she had seen it. Perhaps she had convinced herself it was all in her imagination; perhaps she was too afraid to let herself hope that he might return her affections.

He returned her affections. He was alive, and he would be okay, and he loved her just as deeply as she loved him. The rush that overtook Peach would have easily brought her to her knees, and she thanked the stars that she was already laying down. 

Their words of mutual confirmation comprised the second of two mantras that kept Peach going, even when she was certain she could go no further, and in her fear for his life she hadn’t let herself dwell on them any further. But they’d exchanged that mantra back and forth even as their already limited energy dwindled, even when collapse and failure and death felt inevitable, filling the air between them when all other words failed: I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…

“I love you,” Mario said now, in that same hoarse whisper as before.

Peach inhaled sharply, and suddenly the tears she’d so valiantly fought off stung at the backs of her eyes. He’d told her those three blessed words ten or twenty or fifty times in the past day, but this time was different. There was no desperation or disbelief in his voice, no heaviness of affliction or regret or uncertainty, no exhaustion holding his tongue. He said it quietly but unwaveringly, unapologetic.

How else had he said it? At multiple points in their journey, he couldn’t find the strength to translate his thoughts into the common tongue, and so he would squeeze her hand and utter a pair of foreign words to her, the same two words, over and over and over.

“Ti amo,” Peach echoed now. Foreign or not, those words felt right on her tongue, effortless.

Mario’s face changed, suddenly more alert than before, and for a brief instance Peach felt cold again. Had she misremembered or misspoken? Just as quickly as he’d reacted, though, he closed his eyes and pushed his cheek deeper into the pillow, that breathtaking smile returning in full force.

“Noooo,” he whined, the syllable broken up by a breathless laugh, “don’t say that, Princess! I’m not ready to wake up yet.”

The arm draped over her flexed again, and his bright smile morphed into something darker, sadder. Something like bleak resignation.

He thought this was a dream. Nothing but a pleasant and misleading dream, perhaps one of many, just as she’d thought her own awakening to be. The first of a new wave of tears forced their way past Peach’s defense, and she swallowed thickly to rid the lump in her throat.

“Then don’t.” She obliged his nonverbal request this time, scooting closer until their bodies were flush, ducking her head beneath his chin. Warm. So present and real and warm. “Just— just sleep for now. Rest with me.”

Mario hummed, and she felt it reverberate in his throat, the vibrations and unshaven scruff tickling her cheek. “Will you… be here?” he managed after a moment. “When I wake up?”

Peach sniffled. He no longer smelled of burnt skin and fresh blood. Medicinal salve filled her olfactory senses now, sharp and clean. “They’ll have to drag me out kicking and screaming.”

This earned another laugh from her hero, her closest friend, the love of her life, and he nuzzled his chin into the crown of her head with a satisfied sigh.

They lay together in comfortable silence after this, and while Mario dozed, Peach took the opportunity to ground herself. The twangy aroma of salve; the rise and fall of his chest against hers; the weight of his arm holding her close; the beep-beep-beep of a heart monitor gone steady once more. She buried her face into a thick patch of gauze on his shoulder and let her tears flow freely, content to tremble in the safety of his embrace.

This was real. She was home. 

She was home.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi, may i request some headcanons for Toby, Ej and Ben with a S/O who is really clumsy and always has new bruises?

toby, ej, and ben x reader who is clumsy

my legs hurt i hate how they tense up when i get stressed out it hurts so much notes: reader is gn, ben is platonic as i do not feel comfortable writing romantic for him, heavy hcs for all of them naturally but esp ben cws: edit

toby

he has a little bit of a disconnect between pain and injuries- both for himself and other people. obviously for himself its because of his CIPA, and that leaks into how he perceives others. he knows it hurts for them but he doesnt fully understand to what degree

still, he does his best to sympathize with you when you get hurt- actually you guys likely come up with a system.. a scale to rank how painful it is.. not just for physical pain! i can easily see this being used as a general thing for you guys to rate an experience both lightheartedly and as a serious thing

gets you meds as well as an icepack for your bruises so youre not too sore- hopefully

keeps an eye on the coloring of your skin, headcanon that he keeps tabs of the look of how an injury looks to determine severity.. as well as generally having a curiosity

he doesnt outwardly judge you all that much for your clumsiness, he knows his tics have caused some accidents so hes not going to fault you for a lot of your accidents

eyeless jack

tries to find a reason for your clumsiness, or at least tries to clear it of "okay do you have something internally thats happening", and if you actually do he does what he need to accommodate you

makes sure you dont needlessly get put into a situation that can lead to you getting hurt, he doesnt babyproof his place or yours.. nor does he treat you like youre a kid, but he does make precautions

lightly scolds you for not being careful if youre careless and roll with it as you get hurt- he doesnt want you to get hurt even if its something small

knows some tricks to lessen bruises before they get too bad, as well as ways to relieve any pain and swelling

medical interest really coming in clutch!

he hears crashing sounds and he just preps himself for whats about to transpire

he loves you but he does try to help you manage your clumsiness

ben

he thinks its a little funny that youre constantly hurting yourself, as long as its not a major injury- he also thinks its a little... pathetic... its a little mean for him to think that but hey, hes a bit of an asshole so its to be expected

he cant do much most of the time on account of him not being physically there- stuck in your phone or computer or some other device. but he does try to verbally be there for you- there in spirit!

if hes connected to the internet and hes able he does try to find some solutions to either lessen your clumsiness or how to make your bruises fade faster

tries to see if theres a cause to your clumsiness but its mostly him bullshitting you

"it could be a tumor" "you little shit its not a tumor"/ref/hj

more of a "lets move on and forget about it" kind of person, which isnt terrible especially if you find yourself embarrassed by your clumsiness

[seyaryminamoto]

Fic-to-Art #37: Jin and Tiang

If you're wondering about last month's artwork... it's not out and about because it was kind of unfinished :'D hence why you haven't seen it at all. But once I get the last details in (who told me to do more ensemble pieces, really...?) I'll make sure to post it!

Instead, have a glimpse of two characters I've never drawn before! That was the prompt this time, choosing something either uncommon or that I had never really drawn at all, and Jin and Tiang got the win! Tiang's design is very much something I settled on very recently, so if anyone didn't picture him that way, I totally get it x'D but as an OC, all sorts of interpretations are valid, I'd say. As for Jin, I hoped she'd look properly elegant without fully setting aside her roots. Her hairpiece isn't too big and ornamented, her hairstyle is mostly the one we knew her for in the show, but her clothes are high-end now due to her new status in society.

... Or, uh, you could say that's not reeeeeally her status anymore, let alone his, but let's call this a picture of carelessly happier times for these two, shall we? :'D

Hope you guys liked it! Will make sure to post last month's piece as soon as I can!

If you'd like to be part of the creative process behind these pieces, a $1 pledge is enough to make you eligible for proposing poll options and voting in them monthly, along with reading Gladiator snippets 6 days before the next chapter releases!

[jeonsweetpea]

Will It Fit?

Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers

rating: explicit

description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

word count: 6.7k

warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes, 

a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me. 

“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 

The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 

“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.

“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.

“Unlock this door.”

You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 

“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.

“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”

Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 

“Sorry…” 

God, you sounded absolutely pathetic . 

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 

Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 

You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.

It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.

If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!

You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts. 

He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up. 

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”

Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!

“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”

You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy. 

This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!

The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.

“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn. 

You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”

“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”

“... Oh. Cool.”

He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you. 

“Hey Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.

“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”

As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words. 

“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”

You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”

“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”

Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!

There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes. 

He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”

You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”

Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”

“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold? 

It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.

“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”

“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”

“No, wait. I’m sorry.”

You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” 

You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.

“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”

He’s so cute when nervous.

“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”

“O-Okay.”

Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.

“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out. 

“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch. 

“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”

As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”

You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities. 

You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”

The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant. 

“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”

Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.

Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!

“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”

Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear. 

Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week. 

God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.

“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”

You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”

You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”

“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”

“The… thing in your hand—”

“Dildo?”

You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”

“Before you use it?”

“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”

You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”

You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”

“I do not!”

“Then give it back!”

“This thing is huge though. It fits?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes. 

“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”

“Jungkook!”

“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”

Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.

You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”

“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest. 

“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”

“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”

He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”

That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”

“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”

“No.”

“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”

You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?” 

“Yeah…”

It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.

“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”

Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.  

“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”

“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips. 

“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists. 

“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,

“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”

Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”

Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”

He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression. 

“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner. 

“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground. 

A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”

Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”

“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”

“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.

“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. 

“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”

He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more. 

“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.

You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.

“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place. 

“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more. 

Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.

“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.

He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”

You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”

He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”

Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.

“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”

He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before. 

“What?” you asked, amused.

“N-Nothing.”

When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.

Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts. 

“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you. 

As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige. 

“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head. 

“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”

“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.” 

“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”

You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily. 

“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”

He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone. 

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips. 

“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”

You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were. 

“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”

He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it. I know it.”

He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time.  Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”

He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor. 

He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant. 

“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room. 

You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity. 

“J-Jungkook, I think—“

You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure. 

Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high. 

“Did you cum?”

You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”

“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”

Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight. 

Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Let me take care of you now.”

“But I want to fuck you so bad.”

“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”

His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his. 

Will it fit…? God, I hope so.

“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???

“I can. I will.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t—“

“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down. 

Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”

You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you. 

“You’re too good to me…” 

You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”

“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”

You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back. 

“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”

“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust. 

“Can you handle it?”

You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”

His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink. 

“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed. 

A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.

He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard. 

You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.

“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered. 

“Yes, please fuck me.”

“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”

You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits. 

There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did. 

“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets. 

“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”

“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”

He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.

“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”

He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”

You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”

He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock. 

“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”

He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”

You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”

Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.

Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.

He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat. 

“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”

You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.

“I will.”

With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself. 

“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth. 

“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.

“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”

Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy. 

It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum. 

He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height. 

“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”

You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax. 

Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished. 

He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Yeah?”

“Get off. We gotta pee.”

He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”

Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!

With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Questions, comments, concerns?”

Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”

“I’m sorry.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”

He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”

“W-Well… I mean—“

Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”

“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”

You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”

He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”

Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”

You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that. 

“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”

“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”

You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”

“Because you were masturbating to me?” 

He had such a proud smile on his face. 

“Whatever! Panty thief!”

“You left them there.”

“You should’ve told me!”

“I did!”

“After you had your fun! You are so—”

He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you. 

“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”

“As long as you warm me up.”

“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”

“Because of experience or Reddit?”

There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”

I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

[zayneslady]

hey!! loved that angst fic you wrote xx can i request the boys reaction to when the reader/mc and them are in an argument, and they accidentally said something extremely hurtful and it made reader cry. make the boys regret it so much pls hehe😼 thank you 💗

warnings: angst, open ending again hehe and again, reader is not MC

characters: Zayn, Xavier, Rafayel x reader (separately)

a/n: my first request *-* thank you so much! This exact trope is one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it! Get your tissues ready! Also thank you to everyone's support in my first post! I'm so happy! ❤️

Classification: scenarios

ZAYNE ❄️

You didn't want to admit it, but you were sick. During the day you felt a little sore in your throat and your nose was stuffy. Arriving at Zayne's house after work, it was more than obvious that you had a fever. Your face was red and the chills running through your body made you shiver. 

There was nothing else to do, you would miss work tomorrow to fully recover. Furthermore, with the care of your loving doctor, you knew you'd be fine in no time. So you quickly took a shower and after drying your hair, you grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch with a cold patch on your forehead, waiting for Zayne patiently. 

To your surprise, he arrived at a normal time and your heart vibrated with joy when you saw him enter. He had his head low as he stepped out of his shoes and closed the door behind him. 

"Zayne! Welcome back! How was your day?” You greeted him as he shrugged his coat off. “Guess what," you said, giggling softly because it was quite obvious by your funny voice that you were sick. "I got a little sick after yesterday's ra- 

You jumped a little when Zayne suddenly groaned, whipping his head up to look at you. “Oh my Lord,” he said, annoyed. “Can't you see I'm fucking tired? You do not know when you shut your damned mouth? I can't stand you! Why are you so clingy?” 

Your eyes widened and your face turned bright red. Your mind went blank and you didn't notice the tears streaming down your face until Zayne's face changed from complete anger to guilt. He looked at you from the door as if he didn't know what had happened just now. He didn't recognize himself. How did he dare to talk to you like that when you-

He gasped softly, “you're sick.”

You tried to clean your tears with your hands as you got up from the couch. Zayne made an attempt to come close to you, but you quickly ran to the bedroom only to come back after a couple of minutes with your shoes and coat on. 

“Excuse me,” you said, as you approached the door. 

“What? Where are you going like this? You need to rest.”

You nodded, trying to keep some distance from him. “I know. I'll rest back home. So please move.”

“Stay here. I'll take care of you,” he grabbed your hand and more tears fell down. How could he talk so sweetly right now after what he said. 

You shook your head, pulling your hand away and pushing him aside so you could open the door. “I don't need you, Zayne. Not when you can't stand me.”

“I was wrong, please.”

“I was wrong too. Goodbye, Zayne.”

XAVIER ⭐

“My poor Xavier,” you mumbled, gently cleaning a wound in Xavier's side. You winced when he did and your heart broke. You knew perfectly well that this could happen because of his line of work, but you felt terrible every time he came home hurt. “Oh, Xav, is it too painful?” You asked as you started to bandage him. 

He shook his head, breathing heavily and resting his head against the pillow on his bed. “It could be worse. Thank you for helping out.” 

“No need to thank me,” you said, smiling at him as you placed a tender and loving hand over his now bandaged wound. “I wish you didn't have to do this. It's so dangerous.” 

Your words had no poison. You clearly didn't want Xavier to suffer in any way. Why couldn't he have a regular, safe job? Maybe he's just strong because he has to protect everyone. You said those words from the bottom of your warm heart, so you were more than surprised to hear Xavier's response:

“What? Are you saying I'm weak?” He spat and you blinked. 

“N-No! I'm just saying that I wish you had another job because- 

“Is that so? So you rather have a bunch of wanderers attacking innocent people? Just because you don't want me to get hurt?” 

“It's- It's not like that! I never said that. I just get worried sick for you and-

“Maybe I should really stop, huh? Just turn a blind eye to everything that's happening like egoist people like you di.”

He just kept vomiting out words, one harsher than the last. Every time you tried to speak and fix this misunderstanding, his irrational words drowned out your voice and it made something heavy and nauseating settle in your stomach. This was not going to end well in any way. 

“Xavier, my love, please listen to me. I do not- 

“Maybe one day a wanderer will actually kill you. And believe me, I won't even bat an eye at you,” he said, crossing his arms and turning his head away from you. 

Your eyes had never filled with tears as quickly as that moment. Your body began to shake with suppressed sobs as you felt heat and disappointment throughout your body. Did Xavier just... wish for your death? And in the hands of a creature as horrible as a wanderer? 

“Oh no,” he suddenly said and you flinched when you felt his touch against your cheek. “I am so, so sorry.” You cried a little harder before getting up from his bed. “W-Wait, my star. Please, I'm sorry.”

No words came out. You simply grabbed your bag and left the room.

He called your name and then groaned in pain as he tried to move. “Pl-please, come back! Where-

You couldn't hear more of his words as you closed the door of his apartment. Did this mean the end? You truly thought so. 

Rafayel 🐠

"Ah, welcome back, Rafayel!" The amount of excitement that rushed through your body whenever your eyes landed on him was almost overwhelming. It wasn't that you hadn't seen him in a long time, but a second without him felt like a century. 

His eyes, usually warm and sparkling, looked cold and even angry at seeing you in his house. "Hello," he said dryly as he closed the door behind him. You frowned slightly. "What are you doing here?" 

"Hmm, nothing much. I just wanted to visit you. Is that alright?" 

He sighed, placing a paper bag on the table. "Yeah, sure. I gave you a key after all."

You cleared your throat, nodding awkwardly. "Did... you have a good day?" 

He sighed again and shook his head as he stepped out of his shoes. "I didn't. It was terrible for the very first moment I opened my eyes. You see," he started and you nodded, listening carefully. "I overslept so I lost precious time for my painting. Then I didn't have time to eat so I didn't eat anything but a piece of bread."

You immediately got up to make dinner for him, maybe after eating he'd feel better? 

"And the worst thing was," he said, collapsing onto his couch. "I couldn't find my emerald green paint so I had to go all the way to the art store and get a new one! Ugh!" 

You blinked, frowning a little. "Your emerald green?" 

"That's what I said."

"Hmm, I'm very sure I put it in all of your greens?" You left the ingredients aside as you walked to the paints. "Here it is." 

He got up and looked at you with an astonished expression. Confusion quickly turned into anger and he was yelling at you in a second. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"You saw me last night!" You explained, carefully leaving the paint back in place. "You said you wanted your paints to be more organized and I asked you if I could help you out! You even told me you liked how I organized it by colors!" 

Rafayel let out a frustrated sigh as a hand carded through his hair. "I can't believe I just lost all of that precious time because of your stupid mistake!"

"Excuse me?"

"Every time you try to help, you just mess things up! Can't you keep your little hands to yourself for once? I was just stupid for letting you help me out! You are way too much, I can't stand you sometimes.”

You were stunned. He had never said anything like that about you, you couldn't even remember other times when you wanted to help him and you ruined it. Besides, it wasn't your fault. The green paint was there all along and he just hadn't taken the time to look for it properly.

You knew it wasn't your fault, but his harsh words and the anger and hatred in his eyes were too much. Tears quickly filled your eyes and began to fall down your reddened cheeks. 

Rafayel realized his mistake a bit too late. Letting out a gasp as he watched the first tear fall, he hurriedly approached you, but you backed away, putting space between the two of you. He couldn't say anything, too surprised by his own words.

What was just a moment seemed like minutes, endless hours with deafening silence. Only your sobs echoed around the entire house, until your voice, small and trembling, made him jump. 

“I won't touch your stuff again, Rafayel,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes. 

“N-No, I didn't mean-

You nod, “if you don't mind, I'll sleep in your guest room. Goodnight, Rafayel.”

Deep inside you so desperately wanted him to stop you, but he watched you disappear into the hall and never called you back.

You knew it was going to be a very cold night.

[luveline]

Gah, your Peter Parker leaves me sighing in the best way every time! If you feel like it, could you write a little blurb of him melting from fondness when reader gets bashful following him doing/saying something soft? It’s so sweet, seeing two people mutually melt around and because of each other. Even when it’s the smallest thing, it means so much more when it’s from one of YOUR important people.

ty for your request! <3 fem

Fuck, Peter Parker thinks, jogging up the steps to your apartment building, this is the life. It’s a hot day in New York City but there are cold drinks to be had and that electric fan in your bedroom is calling his name. There’s genuinely no better place to be than laying on your sheets in pyjamas you wash with that apple blossom laundry softener he loves, knowing you keep using it ‘cos you love it, and knowing you wash his pyjamas because you love him. 

Spidering is going well, he saved a kid today who nearly got crushed by a ten tonner, so he’s feeling pretty good about himself, or at least feeling good about his decisions. He made Aunt May lunch and took it down to the hospital, he flirted gently with the older nurses, and now he’s gunning up the stairs to your apartment, every step a crinkle. 

Your door is wide open (awful) but you have good reason —the floors and the countertops shine. The windows are open, and the room is fragrant with your oil diffuser. You’re on your knees by the TV wiping down the table with a damp rag in loose-fitting clothes, sleeves pushed up, brows puckered. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. 

“Peter, I’m not talking to you today.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“You know how many pairs of your socks I found when I was cleaning today?” 

He grimaces. “Two?” 

“Nine pairs of socks, Peter.” 

He puts the flowers he’s brought you down on the coffee table and his back on the floor. He’d been hoping to do a grand unveiling of the bouquet to surprise you, but he feels terrible. “I don’t even know how that happens,” he mumbles dejectedly, kneeling down behind you, his arms threading in front of your tummy to give you a backwards squeeze. “They just disappear.” 

“They don’t, evidently.” 

“I’m really sorry.” He kisses your cheek. “I’m genuinely really sorry. That’s sloppy. I’m not a kid.” 

“No, you’re not… I’m not that mad though, you don’t have to sound so serious.” 

He holds the place just under your breastbone in his hands. “Oh, you’re not?” He tugs you to his front to stop you from moving prematurely and reaches blindly behind him for the flowers. You laugh as he tips back, taking you with him, the sound vibrating through you and into him. “That’s good. Don’t need these then, do we?” 

He twirls the bouquet, pressing it carefully to your chest. 

You immediately relax in his arms. He treasures that feeling, your weight leaning against him, your cheek listing down into his arm. You raise a hand, his arm trapped in the crook of your elbow as you examine the lilac petal of a sweetpea. “I love these ones.” 

“I know.” 

You take more time than anyone else would sifting through the flowers of the bouquet, breath the only evidence of your delight. You breathe out slowly whenever one of the flowers is particularly beautiful, and then you hug the bunch to your nose for a mild sniff. 

“Thank you.” 

Peter kisses your cheek. He savours the feeling of it, your skin under his lips, being that close to you, his hair on your forehead and your eyebrow tickling him as he hugs you just that little bit closer. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs, affection in every word, and a little drop of shyness too, “I was thinking of you, and they looked healthy for once, considering they’re off of the corner by Mandy’s.” 

“They’re so pretty,” you mumble, turning into him as much as you can. He lets up his tight hold. 

“Like you.” 

You brush your forehead against his chin. Peter actually gets goosebumps, letting the flowers fall to the floor by your leg so he can hold you. “I feel bad for caring about the socks now,” you mumble. 

He laughs with lips still closed and offers you a soft kiss. 

[bleedingoptimism]

It’s a little after eleven when Eddie finally manages to get Tarja to bed. It’s hard for her without her plushie. And really, Eddie is very thankful having a hyper-fixation with her toy seems to be the only ‘consequence’ of having divorced parents Tarja seems to have right now. He always worries if having two homes and constantly moving between them is good for her or not. Especially with Tommy being Tarja’s other dad, but against all odds, he’s good to her. So their kid is doing just fine. She’s happy. And if she’s happy, Eddie is happy.

He’s getting ready to open a beer and relax when there’s a knock on the door. He smiles, assuming is Steve bringing Toothless over and almost knocks his beer to the floor when he opens the door.

Steve looks… well he looks amazing, dressed to the nines. Must’ve been date night. But his eyes are red and puffy, his face covered in dark blotches, and his lips are swollen like he’s been biting them too much.

He’s hugging Toothless to his chest and he smiles at Eddie when he sees him, but he looks so sad it breaks his heart.

Eddie throws the beer behind him, sure it will land on the couch and cradles Steve’s face between his hands, “What did that asshole do?

Steve leans into his touch and shuts his eyes for a moment before sighing and stepping away from him, walking inside and sitting on the couch still holding Toothless like a lifeline. 

“Nothing, he was just-” Steve shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “He’s just so mean,” 

Eddie drops to his knees in front of him and dips his head to look Steve in the eye just like he did that day in the park.

“Break up with him,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Tommy doesn't deserve you, Steve. You are worth so much more than what that asshole makes you feel. You deserve better. More. Everything,” Eddie pleads, placing his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing, “If it’s because of Tarja, we’ll figure something out, ok? Lots of people keep in contact with their parent’s significant other after they break up” He rushes, the speech he didn't have quite prepared last week coming out of him in a single breath, “We are friends, right? So you can still visit and see her. Visit me. You don’t have to stop being a part of our lives.” 

Steve is staring at him right now like Eddie just gifted him the moon and he’s so beautiful it’s kind of hard for Eddie to keep eye contact, but he squeezes Steve’s knees again to ground himself and does. Steve needs to know he’s very serious about this. About him.

Eyes shining, Steve takes a deep breath and nods slowly, a tear falling down his cheek that Eddie follows with his eyes and watches until it hides under Steve’s v-neck shirt.

“Hey, even I didn’t put up with Tommy's shit for Tarja’s sake and I birthed her,” he jokes awkwardly, trying to make him laugh and feels like doing a little victory dance when Steve snorts cutely,

“Okay,” he hiccups.

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles back at him, relieved.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “Fuck Tommy.” And drops back on the couch, looking exhausted, “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid Eddie will say no. As if.

“Yeah, of course,” Is what he answers, and has half a mind to invite him into his bed but knows it’s a terrible idea. So he lends Steve his favorite flannel pajamas and sets blankets and a pillow on the couch and they say their goodnights.

And if he does a little dance when he closes the door to his room, no one is there to see.

In the morning, Steve stays for breakfast. And attempts to kill Eddie by making his heart explode, cooking it himself from scratch with Tarja’s help, who is so happy she won’t stop running around the kitchen making Toothless fly and sing about ‘happy family breakfast time’.

It’s actually hard to tell if she’s happier to have her plushie back or that Steve is there. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s happiest about. Death by tenderness. Is that a thing? He amuses himself thinking about a couple csi’s with sunglasses saying it, 

“He died because he witnessed something too cute,”

“Ah yes, death by fondness. I’ve seen it before.”

After, Eddie walks him to the door and Steve smiles sweetly at him, and holds his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, “Well, see you. I guess,” he says bashfully and there’s a moment there, a second where time stops and Eddie thinks he should kiss him. Wants to kiss him, needs to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Because Steve is still dating Tommy, and just because he said he was going to break up with him doesn’t mean he wants to start something new with Eddie.

Eddie himself called him his friend for the first time last night for christ sake. ‘Fucking chill’ he thinks to himself.

🧸

And then a week goes by without hearing a word from Steve. But Eddie doesn't hold it against him.

At first, he figures he needs time to think but then he starts to wonder if he really is going to break up with Tommy. Four days in, he gets paranoid about it. Maybe Steve got brainwashed into thinking Eddie is bad for him. Maybe Tommy told him Eddie was putting ideas in his head, that he shouldn’t talk to him anymore… With him telling Steve to break up with his boyfriend and all... 

He’s well aware of how manipulative Tommy can be and has seen the way he belittles Steve to keep him around, so he knows it’ll be hard for Steve to actually go through with it.

And he can’t exactly show up at Tommy’s and steal Steve away, no matter how appealing the idea might be. The only thing he can do is just think of Steve, wish him well, and send him strength to do what he needs to do. At the end of the day, it needs to be his decision. His choice.

As Tommy’s week with Tarja approaches he starts getting more and more anxious, wondering if it’ll be Steve or Tommy who picks her up.

When the day finally arrives, and the doorbell rings, Tarja runs to open the door and Eddie peeks his head through the hallway.

“Daddy!” Tarja screams.

“Hey, Tata! You ready?” Tommy says and Eddie steps into the hall to greet him too.

“Not yet!” Tarja chuckles and Tommy smiles at her,

“Okay, go get ready. I’ll wait here,”

Eddie walks to the door and leans on the doorframe, “Hey,”

“Hi. Long time no see,” Tommy says and then adds, “You look great,”

“You don’t,” Eddie answers, because it’s true. He looks like shit. Greasy hair, bags under his eyes, chapped lips, wrinkles on his clothes, “What happened?”

“Steve broke up with me.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he smiles, he doesn’t even try to hide it, “He did?”

“Don’t smile, fucker,” Tommy says but there’s no heat behind it. He knows he deserves it.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, not sorry at all.

“Stop,” Tommy whines because Eddie’s smile is actually getting bigger,

“Sorry,” he repeats and then clears his throat, “Did he tell you why?”

“Because I’m a horrible person,” Tommy groans.

“Hey, the first step is to ad-”

“To admit it, yeah, yeah. I know” Tommy interrupts him, groaning again.

Eddie sighs, and punches Tommy’s shoulder lightly, “Look, Tommy, I’m just going to say this because, well… you are pathetic. You need to do better.” And then he points to his back, to where Tarja’s disappeared to get her stuff, “She’s going to grow up and realize you are an awful person and she’s not going to want you in her life. And I’m not going to dissuade her from it, because I already don’t want you to be in mine, you know that, right?”

Tommy looks at him seriously and then nods once, fast and hard. Like he gets it. Like he agrees and is determined to change. And Eddie hopes for Tarja’s sake he is. But knows, deep in his heart, that either way, she’s going to be fine.

“Also, just a heads up. I’m in love with Steve and I’m going to ask him out,” he adds in a rush when he hears Tarja running up behind him.

“You are shitting me,” Tommy whispers, shocked and clenching his teeth.

Eddie laughs, “Nope,” he says, closing his lips loudly around the P.

“Eddie,” Tommy warns him like he’s waiting for Eddie to say he's joking.

“What? I hear he’s single,” Eddie smirks.

“You motherfuc- Hey Tata!” Gathering Tarja in his arms, Tommy drops the subject but he glares at Eddie as he kisses Tarja’s cheek goodbye and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ as he’s leaving. Eddie closes the door and starts laughing at the look on Tommy’s face.

He needs to call Steve.

He tries a couple of times but he doesn’t pick up and he starts worrying Steve might not actually want to talk to him, and then there’s a knock on the door but Eddie, too preoccupied with his anxiety, opens without looking, thinking Tarja forgot something.

When he doesn't hear her, Eddie looks up from his ‘ignored calls’ screen to see nonother than Steve standing there, looking nervous and like a fucking dream with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A fucking bouquet of flowers. For him. For Eddie. All different shades of red, because he knows is his favorite color.

Eddie just blinks at him a couple of times and Steve flushes even more and drops the hand holding up the flowers, scratches the back of his neck nervously, “This was stupid, the flowers were fucking stupid. They are stupid. I’m stupid, right?”

A laugh bubbles out of Eddie and he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him inside. He closes the door once they are both in and slams Steve against it, crushing their lips together. Steve circles his arms around Eddie and holds him close, instantly returning the kiss with fervor. 

They kiss as if it were fate. They kiss until it's hard to breathe and Eddie pulls away only to kiss him again, and again, and again.

“Not stupid,” he murmurs between kisses and feels Steve’s smile against his lips.

Eventually, Eddie takes a step back and lets Steve into his home properly, “Hi,” he says cheesily.

“Hi,” Steve says back grinning, then he lifts up the bouquet again, which is now completely ruined by him still holding it strongly while they made out like crazy, and his smile drops,

“Shit,” he pouts cutely, god Eddie wants to eat him. He laughs and takes the flowers anyway, putting them in an empty glass bottle, because he doesn’t own a flower vase, because he’s a normal human being. ‘Who the fuck owns a flower vase?’

“Come here,” he says, holding out both hands for Steve to take and follow him.

Steve takes his hands but doesn't move, instead swings them from side to side, “Wait, let's talk,”

Fuck, yeah. They should. That’s a good idea. Fuck. Damn, Steven Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-His-Middle-Name Harrington and his sensible and very logical choice…

Eddie huffs exaggeratedly making Steve chuckle and redirects them to the couch, where they sit still holding hands, “Alas,” he says dramatically, “You are right, we should talk. I actually wanted to ask you out properly, not debauch you the second you walked through the door. Sorry about that” he lies, not sorry at all, again.

Steve blushes and smiles, drawing little circles with his thumbs on Eddie’s hands, “Yeah me too. I wanna do this right. Ask you out. Go on dates. I think we should take this slow,”

Eddie makes a face and groans at that. He doesn't want to take it slow. He wants Steve to move in right now or something. Steve rolls his eyes amused at his interruption and keeps going,

“I came here to ask you out the right way because I want you to know I’m committed. But we should think about how this will affect Tarja… and Tommy too. We should go out a few times, spend some time alone, and I want you to meet my friends and my parents and I want to meet your friends and your uncle too and just do this properly and-”

Eddie interrupts him with a kiss, he can’t take it anymore, he’s been dying to kiss Steve for months now and he’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes Eddie insane, makes him feel like he needs to ruin him, but in a nice way, like with devotion and love.

Steve lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist and hoists him until he’s straddling Steve. Eddie leans his elbows on Steve’s shoulders, and buries his hands in his hair, pulling and messing with it.

“Okay but have you considered having hard, hot, wet sex, and then maybe we do what you said?” He asks panting against Steve’s lips and actually feeling how that punches the air out of him.

He hugs Eddie closer to his chest and whines, “Yeah okay, we can do it your way,” and gets up, lifting Eddie with him as if he were weightless. Eddie squawks and laughs all the way to his room.

🧸

They spend the week together, talking, eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Except it’s more than that because when Eddie is inside Steve, with his tongue, his fingers, or his strap, it feels like more. It feels like love. Like fate.

Steve, still determined to take things slow, doesn’t stay there all the time, going back to Robin’s where he moved back to after breaking up with Tommy. He actually brings her over one day and the three of them spend the afternoon together. Eddie decides they are going to be best friends immediately because Robin is hilarious and merciless. When Steve gets back the next day he kisses Eddie so good and hard his knees almost give out on him and tells him he has Robin’s seal of approval. Something he knows Tommy never got.

When the week passes Eddie says goodbye theatrically as if they were cross-star lovers in a bad soap opera and Steve chuckles and calls him ridiculous but kisses him so passionately that Eddie drags him right back inside and they say goodbye again a few hours later.

They had decided to wait until Eddie talked to Tarja about her feelings over Tommy’s and Steve’s breakup and whether she still wanted Steve around or not before having him over again.

But when Tarja gets back home she’s gloomy and silent. She hugs Eddie in greeting when she arrives and then spends the rest of the day lying face down on the floor and occasionally sighing loudly, obviously trying to make Eddie ask her what’s wrong.

And really, Eddie shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he thinks about calling Wayne and telling him he gets it now when Wayne used to tell him he had too much personality.

Eventually, he lies on the floor next to her and asks. Tarja looks at him with big sad eyes and says, “I haven't seen Steve in a million years! And Daddy said he is not his boyfriend anymore! So I’ll never see him again and I miss him”

Eddie coos at her, “I’m sorry you miss him little dragon, but you can totally see him again! Would you like me to call him? Since he’s my friend too?” Already trying to strategize on how to tell her they are more than friends.

Tarja lights up and jumps off the floor and onto Eddie, punching the breath out of him, “Yes! Yes! Call Steve! Steve smiles more when he’s with you than he did with daddy anyway. Why don’t you boyfriend him instead?”

Well… that was easy.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s a great idea sweety, go grab my phone,”

Tarja runs and grabs Eddie’s phone off the table and hands it to him, he doesn’t bother getting off the floor so she kneels beside him listening attentively as he dials Steve’s number. 

“Hi, handsome, you talked with Tarja already?” Steve greets him after it rings twice.

“Yeah about that, turns out Tarja talked to me, actually,” he chuckles, “Hi, by the way”

“Hi,” Steve repeats lovingly and laughs, “What do you mean?”

“She had this awesome idea!” he says winking at her and she covers her mouth with her tiny hands to hide her giggles, “That, since you are not with Tommy anymore, you should be my boyfriend instead,” he continues, voice going soft and chuckles when he hears Steve's breathless ‘oh’ on the other side of the line, “Come over?”

“Of course, gimme an hour? I'm with a client” Steve hums and Eddie whispers he’ll give him anything he asks for and hangs up.

An hour later Tarja is still lying on the floor, only now it’s with papers and crayons spread all around her when the doorbell rings. She looks up at Eddie excitedly and he nods at her, “Go on then”

Tarja runs to the door and opens it wide to reveal Steve standing there as beautiful as ever, giving Eddie a deja vu of the first time he saw him.

“Papa Steve!” Tarja yells and jumps up to hug him.

Steve gasps and falls to his knees with her in his arms and looks up at Eddie with shocked wet eyes.

‘So much for taking it slow,’ Eddie thinks with a smirk.

Fin.

☝️first part

☕🥐💕?

[lonelystarrs]

𝑫𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉.

𝗧𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗭𝗲𝗻’i𝗻 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

His gambling and betting habits often got himself into situations he’d rather not be in, it’s what landed him here at this stupid Halloween party with his utter goof of a girlfriend, but there were plans hiding under that ridiculous outfit.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI + smut + crack + size kink + ghostface! Toji + whip use + switch reader + mean Toji + public sex +

4.7k smut fic • I am unwell • enjoy my terrible humour. Kinktober

Part Two: Maid Zen’in

You thought you were real fucking funny didn’t you? Turning up in that ridiculous outfit.

Gojo was already cackling and elbowing Toji in the side.

“It’s hilarious, you sure got a keeper huh Zen’in?”

Toji rolled his eyes, thick shoulders hunching more and biceps bulging from his arms crossed. His ghostface mask sitting on the side of his head so he could literally drink his way out of this.

“Gotta admit, I still would.”

“Yeah? Feel free.” Toji sneered, trying so hard not to watch you but it was hard not to, you were busting out moves on the dance floor and because of the air filled suit, the moves were impossible to actually see them.

No matter where he looked, he could see the air filled horn bobbing around above the heads of others in the crowd of people at the club, the laser lights illuminating to the music as you danced with no care in the world amongst a group of people.

You said you were coming as a murderous unicorn, which was ridiculous enough, but what you were wearing was anything but fucking murderous, maybe to Toji’s ego and pride. The mane was rainbow, the white blow up body suit you had on filled with air and a pair of heels.

Fucking designer, red bottom strappy heels, in that costume.

“Yo, Zenin, isn’t that your girl?”

“No.” Toji denied it many times this evening, even though those asking knew otherwise.

Gojo cackled again, elbowing Suguru who joined the conversation as he watched you moving on the dance floor having far too much fun for your own good, the air filled suit making you move in a way that was fucking hilarious to the six eyes.

Toji knew why you were doing it, because you’d gotten into a argument this morning and he’d made a snide remark about something he didn’t even remember quite frankly, either way you’d fallen out and had been giving him the cold shoulder all day. Even meeting him here instead of coming with him.

Now though he was glad for the distance, soon as he seen you he couldn’t help but think thank fuck he walked into this club alone. He just had to bear witness to you flirting with the bouncers as they bantered with you about your outfit.

He wore a black tight muscle shirt, with black jeans, a holster on his chest with two big hunting knives either side and a ghost mask.

He looked like a threat, like something suitable for Halloween, you just looked like a girl living her princess dream prancing around like a pony. It was your whole idea coming to this thing in the first place and the only reason he was going was because he lost a bet with you, his damn gambling habit presenting her karma for him finding any opportunity to bet irresistible.

“Eh, she is sure giving it beans with those dance moves.” Satoru couldn’t help himself, his eyes were twinkling with amusement, he couldn’t stop watching you.

“I’m surprised you came, Toji, not usually your kind of thing.” Suguru at least was less bothersome on the topic.

“Oh look she’s on her way over!”

It was embarrassing watching you waddle through the crowds, beaming a smile that was only making his jaw clench and when you eyed him, giving him a flirty look of acknowledgment before changing your pace to a flirty strut, Toji nearly walked away.

“Hey handsome, do you wanna feed the pony?”

Gojo Satoru lost it beside you, bellowing a laugh at your over the top flirtation and even Suguru started to laugh.

“-cause you make me so hooooorny T.”

Your hands lifted to flick the bobbling horn on your head and Toji grabbed his mask pulling it back over his face before storming off to the bar again. Leaving Gojo to strut up to you and smack a hand on your shoulder in some kind of praise, perhaps he should just let you both date.

Perfectly suited for each other and the six eyes did have a thing for you, the sulking for two weeks after Toji first claimed you as his girl was enough of a clue. Let alone the remarks Satoru made towards you, his eyeballing and offering to date you instead of Toji.

But you’d always refused.

And he was kinda glad, as odd as it could be at times you did bring some fun to Toji’s life, a perfectly grown women when needed but that side of you that had zero ability to be embarrassed was troublesome, but at times entertaining. He could banter with you in a way he couldn’t with females usually and you only dished it back.

But the sex, fuckkkk the sex. You were insatiable and you’d even made his eyes almost cross a few times, how you sucked his cock was unworldly and lucky for him you couldn’t get enough of doing it.

Toji took a seat at the bar, ordering a strong whiskey to try give him some hope on getting through this evening with some sanity, how long he was sat there he didn’t know, but being alone only gave the opportunity for girls to come up to him.

So you wanted to play huh?

He could play, perhaps make you regret trying to show him up like that.

He entertained it, a girl in an angle costume coming up, her tits out held by some flimsy looking material that Toji could so easily rip from her, some skimpy white skirt that was hiding nothing, white stockings on show and pretty blonde hair.

She wasn’t exactly horrifying, but this was what girls went for this time of year, not like he was complaining -he was a guy after all.

She twirled her finger around a strand of hair, battering her eye lashes at him.

“You’re like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh yeah?” Toji smirked, turning in his seat to face her, giving her the once over, “—how so?”

Toji played it clever, soaking up the praise instead of giving it just because if you were looking you’d be none the wiser. As much of a woman jumper as he used to be Toji was loyal when treated well, and treated well by you he certainly was.

The blonde reached out to trace a finger on his muscles, dragging an acrylic nail down the line between his bicep.

“You’re huge-“

“So I’ve been told,”

“Anything else big about you?”

Toji chuckled tilting his head to her when she bravely gripped his arm and squeezing the bicep, just as he was about to say that’s enough a riding crop slammed down between them, hitting the bar with enough force everyone sat there spun around.

“Hey angel face, he flexing his muscles for you hmm? He’s such a show off, thought I trained him better than that.”

Toji knew that tone, the kind that made him lay back let you ride him until you were spent, the kind that kinda made him melt a little inside for you —not like you’d ever, in a million fucking years, know that.

Green eyes turned to meet you, expecting to see you in that ridiculous blow up unicorn suit, instead it was gone and suddenly he was wondering where the hell it was so he could put it back on you to stop the amount of looks you were getting.

Stood there with the lights dancing around you in leather chaps with studs, a leather bra with a body harnesses a fucking pink gag horse bit dangling down your neck resting between your collar bones and bright red lipstick, hair into a clean, high ponytail with a crop in hand.

And he knew his dick was gonna be under those red bottomed heels this evening.

You had a black, glittery horn on your head that had red glitter spilling down it that imitated blood, along with make up running down your forehead in red glitter.

This was your damn take on a murderous unicorn?

The blonde went to open her mouth, but you beat her to it, pressing the crop under her chin and closing it for her.

“Shh, this guy-“ you stepped forward and Toji reached for you, standing behind you as he pulled you in, a large hand made its way around your neck to grip it from behind “-he doesn’t fuck angels, he’s too corrupt for that.”

The smirk that spread over his face was nasty, tilting your head back into his chest and pressing his lips to yours, going straight for your bottom lip with his teeth and pulling.

He felt you moan against his tongue as it swiped your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Playin’ a dangerous game comin’ out like this doll,”

“Yeah?”

Toji hummed whilst kissing you upside down again,

“Yeah, s’get outta here-“

“Or-“ you span around in his arms, leaned up to him and brushed your lips against his, “-we can use the private room back there for VIP.”

Toji rose an eyebrow at you, you only grinning at him and grabbing his hand to lead the way through the groups of people until you both reached a gold door, the bouncer there nodded at you and Toji rose an eyebrow.

Since when did you know people on that level to only be acknowledged through nodding?

Your back hit the door the moment it shut and Toji was on you within seconds, hand gripping your neck and squeezes it in the way he knew made your cunt clench, choking you lightly whilst tilting your head up to him feeling your little moan on his palm against your throat.

“What you got goin’ on in that head of yours sweetheart? I ain’t stupid.”

You shrugged, “-nothing really, but I am wondering if you wanna make a lil bet again.”

Toji rose an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to look around the room, it wasn’t huge, the seats were black trimmed with gold in a booth shape with a small table off to the side.

“Keep talkin’”

“I’m thinking, you let me take control and if you lose it I win.”

Toji snorted a laugh, “-you won’t even get my cock in that tight lil cunt without my help doll, you think you’re gonna manage with me just sitting back?”

“If I need your help, then I lose.”

He released you and stepped back until he let himself slump back onto the booth, spreading his legs and his arms across the top of the booth, one hand reaching down to unbuckle his belt and undo the button to his jeans, pulling the zipper down. His skin tight top riding up showing the lines of his V that lead to a cock too big for most girls to handle. The black pubic trail of hair also leading a line down into his boxers.

“C’mon then sweetheart, it’s all yours.”

He was snide, cocky with how he was sat spread out and you smirked at him stepping forwards, pressing the crop under his chin and tilting it up to you looking down on him, his green eyes glazed with sly intention, his smirk only aiding it.

“You’re not allowed to touch me, clear?”

Toji rolled his eyes and shrugged “-whatever you say, boss. You’ll be begin’ for me too long before I need to.”

Toji’s eyes widened when you actually smacked the crop across his face, anger filtered through him briefly at you having the fucking balls to even think you’d get away with it, but when he looked back at you, eyes half hooded with some kind of pissed off look he only felt his cock throb. The leather you wore was glistening in the low lights, hugging every curve and pressing your tits up perfectly.

“Less snark, Zen’in, it’s boring me.”

Holy shit —fuck you were still surprising him 2 years into this damn relationship, how the hell had you hidden this from him? You had attitude, that was never hidden and fucking it outta you was borderline impossible, but it didn’t mean keeping you fucked dumb didn’t work until you got bratty again.

He glared at you, hands balling into fists and his jaw clenched, the red welt forming on his cheek as he held eyes with you.

“Don’t push it,”

“I plan to, Toji, or do you feel yourself losing patience already? Might be an easy win for me after all.”

You litt-

Toji groaned, his stomach tensing as the ball of your foot pressed into his semi hard dick only encourage it to harden under it, his hips rolled and his head tilted back, keeping eyes with you as you watched his reaction.

“Been thinking about sucking you off all night, my mouths watering over it T.”

“As said doll, it’s all yours.”

You hummed and stepped forward, pulling his jeans down just enough to free his dick as it slapped against his stomach, pre drooling from the tip into the deep lines of his six pack.

“You’re drooling already, Toji.”

He watched as you lowered yourself between his legs, bending forward to run your tongue between the lines of his six pack collecting pre on your tongue, teasingly running it around the head of his dick not touching it directly, only grazing the tip with the underside of your tongue. Your eyes never leaving his as your placed your hands on his thighs.

“That’s it-“ Toji sucked in air, his muscles tensing under your tongue as he watched you, eyes focused on your tongue glistening with drool and pre.

You pressed a kiss to the underside of his head, peppering them down the length of him before your tongue pressed to the base and ran up to the tip again, letting a glob of spit drip to cover it. His cock flexed against his stomach, smearing the spit along his skin as it rested heavy on his stomach.

His eyes rolled back when you finally wrapped your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and sucking before bobbing your head with your hand twisting, keeping to the top of his dick and moving your tongue around the head. His hips bucked, fingers digging into the booths padding to stop himself reaching out, cause all he wanted was to grip your hair and fuck your face like a fleshlight. See how watery your eyes got, watch the drool spilling down your chin, see how well your throat bulged out from his dick, pressing his hand against your throat to feel himself fucking you.

But he was a man of strong will, even if his toes were curling in his shoes as you worked his cock like a dream, the squelching of your mouth as spit started to dribble down his dick. You kept going in the same pattern, twisting your hand when it separated from your mouth bobbing and sucking him in, your tongue swirling around this head giving him constant friction.

“Gonna suck the cum outta me? Fuck -hah- shit doll, that your fucking plan?”

He felt you laugh on him, pulling away with a pop and drool down your cheeks, red lip stick smeared on your lips and his dick.

Your eyes all glassy and panting lightly looking at him with fuck me eyes and his heart thumped against his rib cage, kicking away in a flutter that only pissed him off. He knew he liked you, way too fucking much for his own sanity and it pissed him off that you got under his skin in a way he couldn’t get enough of.

But how you looked right now? Between his thick thighs, running your tongue up and down his big cock that looked so huge in your hands, staring at him with eyes like that, willingly making a mess of yourself on him?

Fuck it took everything in him to not reach out and kiss you stupid, to bury his cock into you and let you cum over and over on him in a love language only he could give.

You didn’t reply, instead you stood and placed your feet on the booth seat either side of him, then lifting your right to place beside his head, hovering your cunt over him as you ran two fingers over your clothed pussy.

“No Toji, that’s not my plan.”

He groaned when you pushed the material aside, letting him view your glistening cunt as it drooled with slick. He was half expecting you to let him touch you at this point, his cock flexing against his stomach as his own pre started to leak into his muscle lines again. Watching as one hand spread yourself open for him, the other rolling around your clit.

It was cruel how you moaned above him, it was mean as you pressed two fingers into your tight hole letting him watch you spread yourself open for him.

“You’re clenching around those fingers, they ain’t deep enough are they sweetheart? Trying to act like a little whore but you can’t fuck yourself like that, y’need me, so why don’t you just give in?”

Toji reached for his own cock, wrapping a fist around himself slowly stroking.

“-sit on my face, get that other leg up and put that pussy where it it belongs hmm? I’ll get you cummin’ how you like.”

Pulling your fingers back covered in slick you toyed with your clit again, hips rolling as you lowered yourself to his face.

“S’it baby, she needs my mouth hmm? I know what she needs-“

“M’gonna cum-“ Toji hid his sneer as he watched you pick up your pace, rolling your clit around your slick covered fingers and he could see your little hole clenching around nothing, fluttering as you came.

His nice attitude left him, sneering an insult under his breath as you cummed over his face, thinking he almost had you breaking the bet by caving first.

“Open your mouth T, I’ll let you catch it,”

Green eyes focused on the clear slick starting to drool from your fluttering hole, a link forming and he held his tongue out, letting the sweetness of you coat it.

“You’re so fucking hot, honestly.” Toji hummed at your praise and taste of you, your foot retreated from besides his head, falling to your knees either side of him, eyes all glassy and pretty, pink dusting across your cheeks.

Your hand reached down to grab his dick from his own hands, wrapping a hand around him and rubbing his head at your hole.

“You’re brave but you ain’t doin’ that without me. No fucking chance.”

You hummed and let your weight start to drop onto him, the stretch already too much as his thick head pushed through the tight ring of muscle, both moaning at the feel of it, your warmth starting to swallow him in.

He gave an airy chuckle when he seen you panting, struggling to take him when you got half way.

“What’s wrong brat? Thought you had this, you look like you’re struggling to me.”

You glared at him, reaching up and turning the ghost face mask on the side of his head to cover him completely.

“Shut up you asshole,”

His patience was dancing on thin ice, the need to thrust into you and bury you to hilt, to bully the rest of his thick cock into you was making his nerves jump. As much as he tried to ignore the need to grip your hips and slam into you, to fuck you until you seen stars and begged him to stop was overwhelming.

However when you slammed yourself down onto him, his head tilted back.

“Ah fuck- you little brat-“

Your hands gripped his shoulders and you spread your knees further from him, already feeling so full. You looked up only to see him tilting his head back, his breathing picking up and his hips stuttering under you fighting the instinct to move.

You couldn’t see his face, covered by the ghost face mask and it only made it hotter. Your hands gripped the material either side of it and tilted him to look at you.

When you started to bounce on him, your walls tightened around him still trying to adjust, his eyes rolled back under the mask only opening again to see you above him looking fucked out.

“Shit, sweetheart y-you’re, fuck me, shit, y’fucking yourself dumb on this fat dick?”

You nodded dumbly at him giving him a panty ‘uh-huh’ as you sank yourself down on him again.

“Harder, if you’re gonna fuck this dick do it harder, I wanna see you strugglin’ on it.”

His hands were flexing on the booth, he started to fidget under you as you kept a pace that was no where close to getting you both to cum, he wasn’t a fool, he ever was a stupid man…

He knew you were doing it to break him first and when that thought crept into his head about giving in, he couldn’t ignore it.

You felt wet, you sounded soaking and he could feel your slick drooling down past his balls. Fucking him with this mask on like he was some toy for you was in fucking credible.

To top it all off you had the balls to smack him with that whip, the boss him around which no one done, and you were both in public.

He wanted your mouth, fuck he wanted your tongue down his throat as you whimpered into him.

He was never one who bothered about consequences, never one to care about repercussions.

“You never told me -hah- you never said what the loser has to do.”

“Maid outfit-“ you painted out, “-fucking you in this mask is so hot, fuck your dick is made f’me T.”

“Maid outfit? Loser wears one?”

You nodded dumbly and he chuckled, that’s it?

“That’s it? Fuck this-“

Toji reached up, tearing the mask off and throwing it across the booth, his large hands reaching down to grab your ass painfully.

“You ain’t walkin’ outta here pretty girl, I ain’t carrying you either-“ your eyes widened as he pulled from you , his tip just stretching you out as a wild smirk blew across his face, his eyes almost dots as he looked at you like he was about to kill you “-you little brat, I’m gonna watch you struggle then I’m gonna fuck you even harder when we get home.”

He seen your face fall, the regret perhaps dancing across your eyes and he soaked it up knowing it would fade by tomorrow. Knowing you’d be your cocky self all over again.

And he couldn’t wait.

His pace was brutal, hips slapping up into you with such force your skin was starting to sting, the leather of your outside screeching with each movement.

“Kiss, now-“ his demand was through panting, his breathing heavy as he worked his body to bully his cock inside of you, you gave him wanted he wanted as your whimpers and moans vibrated against his tongue. He swallowed each noise, his hands bruising on your ass cheeks as he held onto them for life.

Then you made a noise he’d never heard, almost a sob that mixed with a moan.

“Atta girl, keep making that noise-“ your arms wrapped around his neck, burying your face into it as your body stuttered and he knew he hit the place he was looking for, “-there it is, gonna cum for me you little slut? Can feel her squeezing me, she’s so tight”

He moaned into your ear, teeth biting at it as he coaxed you into coming with harsh words.

“M’cumming, holy shit Toji-Toji slow down, fuck m’gonna cum!”

“Do it then, I want her sucking the cum outta me, gonna have it drooling down your legs when we get outta here, whole clubs gonna see you’re a slut.”

The moan you gave was pained, frustrated as you danced on the edge of cumming, that coil so tight in your stomach, feeling like you were gonna snap but it wasn’t happening.

“Fuck!” You growled out in frustration into his neck, shifting yourself against him and he chuckled.

“She’s as stubborn as you huh?” He wrapped an arm around you, turning you so your back landed on the booth seat and his other hand grabbed the mask he flung off, pulling it back over his head as he towered over you.

“Look at you, tiny, pathetic little thing- look so dumb all cock drunk,” he rotated his cock inside you, hips moving in a circle as he looked down on you in the ghost mask.

Your hands reaching up to grip his biceps that bulged from holding his weight above you and he looked huge, made you feel like nothing under him. The low light of the room almost blocked out by his shoulders.

He started to rut into you, pressing a thumb to your clit and rolling rough circles around it. A strangled noise leaving you as your hips bucked up, tears welling in your eyes as your body started to shake under him.

“It’s too much, T-Toji it’s too much.”

“Yeah? Deal with it, I’m gonna cum soon and I don’t give a shit if you don’t,”

The panic on your face was enough to make him smirk under the mask, rolling his thumb around your clit harshly knowing it would be too much to actually make you cum.

“I want to,” your head rolled back and tears finally fell from your eyes in frustration, fucked beyond the point of cumming for him as you felt that knot slipping away left with raw, frustrating over stimulation from his rough handling.

“Then cum like a slut, you know how to do it.”

He moved his thumb, slowing his pace to harder thrusts that made your body jolt, tits bounce with each delayed, wet plap, plap, plap of his dick bullying into you.

When your eyes glazed over, your body relaxed under him he knew he had you were he wanted, Toji dropped to his elbows, leaning down to your ear as his hips worked to keep you both going.

“Baby-“ he cooed into you, voice slightly muffled under the mask, “-you feel good, pussy made f’me yeah?”

He felt you nod dumbly, your moans jolted by his hips.

“And dicks made for ya, sweetheart, she’s sucking me in so well.”

He knew he was contradicting himself making a fucking idiot out of his previous taunting that he’d cum without you, but seeing you actually frustrated, tears spilling down and you struggled made the little empathy he had in life flicker.

He kept his short punches, his lower stomach rubbing against your clit and keeping his cock punching that spot inside you until you cried out, suddenly cumming around him violently. Clinging onto him for dear life and sobbing after, pushing his mask off again so you could look at him.

“Damn girl, you’re -“ he groaned at your face, absolutely ruined from his rough treatment, your lipstick smeared, eyeliner smudged with drool and tears.

Your walls fluttering around him brought him with you, curling himself over you until he folded you up, burying himself balls deep as he emptied into you, stuttering, airy curses leaving him as he convulsed against you, hips jolting as your walls pressed around him swimming his dick in cum.

You were slack under him and his energy spent as he almost fell into you, burying his face into your neck as your panting filled the room.

Bodies aching as you pulled apart, Toji sitting back on the booth and leaning his head back, chest still heaving to bring air into his lungs.

He side glanced at you, looking at your pretty face before moving down to your swollen hole leaking cum from it. Toji reached out and patted your public bone.

“She takes me like a champ-“

You deadpanned, before sitting up onto your elbows still recovering with a breathy voice.

“She doesn’t have a choice, you monster.”

Your foot playfully pushed him and he grabbed it, bringing it up to his head so he could kiss the inside of your ankle.

“Seem to be dealin’ with it just fine,”

“So, you liked the unicorn thing?”

“No. Don’t ever do it again, I’ll leave your ass and Gojo can have you.”

“Really? Cause I was thinking of a new theme song, it’s a twist on the original-“

“Don’t sing it,”

“My lil pony, you wanna bone me~?“

©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

If you want Toji in the maid outfit here’s the link to the next part : Maid Zen’in

[ham-st4r]

𝑹𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒑 - 𝑳. 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈

✿Pairing: heeseung + female reader!

✿Warnings: smut, pure filth, car sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, cum eating, breeding kink, daddy kink, male masturbation, cursing, implied round 2. (Since the daddy kink won on votes, I added it 🤭)

✿Genre: smut, 18+, read at your own discretion.

✿Summary: in which a road trip leads to you riding your friend in the back seat of a minivan, that’s literally it lol I didn’t add Niki for obvious reasons, and just to save any controversy, the last thing I need is drama in here.

✿Number of words: 3,184k

Pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

Find your way around!

You’re not sure whose idea it was to invite you and your best friend on the road trip or who thought it would be a great idea to travel in a minivan given the fact it only held seven people and there were eight people, including you and you’re also not sure why you agreed, but here you sat on one of your guy friends lap on a whole 4-hour road trip and halfway into the drive it was getting really uncomfortable more than uncomfortable.

Not only that but why the hell did you have to sit on heeseung’s lap? Couldn’t someone else sit there?

You didn’t even ask cause you knew they’d give you a bullshit excuse about you being smaller and weighing less.

You wouldn’t mind sitting on him in any other circumstance cause he was undoubtedly a hottie, but right now, your mind couldn’t even travel there as the pain in your body increased.

And on top of that, Jake and his girlfriend were practically sharing a seat, so why on earth were you crammed in the back with heeseung while Sunghoon told a series of terrible jokes?

You couldn’t believe how Jake and his girlfriend seemed to be having the time of their lives while in the seat in front of you in your same position, except your best friend was only halfway on jakes lap.

You wished you were having that much fun, but your back ached, and there was still a whole hour left. “Umm, can we stop? I have to use the bathroom,” heeseung spoke up. He had been quiet for most of the ride, only laughing awkwardly when you sat on his lap after muttering a small “hey,” which you returned just as awkwardly.

And little did you know heeseung was just as uncomfortable, if not more uncomfortable than you.

“Really, heeseung, can you just hold it? We’re almost there,” Jay piped up from the driver's seat.

No.

In fact, heeseung couldn’t hold it well. There was nothing to really hold other than the erection that was about to become very evident to you if he didn’t get a break real soon. “We’re not even almost there yet!” he shouted to the front seat, nearly blowing out your eardrum in the process.

“Be a man and use a bottle 'cause we’re not stopping,” Jay dismissed, and heeseung only groaned behind you.

Heeseung was doing alright for the next ten minutes, but once Jay ran over a bump and your ass brushed against his bulge, he couldn’t help but whimper. “Fuck” he whispered and clutched tightly onto the leather seats.

You were now fully aware of why heeseung wanted to stop and even more aware of what you were feeling under you, and you didn’t know if you should feel disgusted or flattered.

You supposed you were indifferent to the situation, and you tried shifting so you’d be sitting more on his thigh, but that seemed to make it worse as he squeezed your waist to hold you in place. “Please just stop moving,” he breathed out and rested his forehead on your back. “Shit, y/n, I’m sorry” He lowered his head in embarrassment. “Can we please take a break?” He spoke up, and Jay mumbled out a curse, finally pulling off at a gas station a few minutes out, although it was too late now that heeseung had already humiliated himself in front of you.

Heeseung practically threw you off his lap and hurried off to the restroom.

It was one outside the gas station around the back, and it was more than janky, but it’d have to do.

At first, he tried to make his erection go down by rinsing his face with cold water and taking deep breaths, even going as far to try and flex certain muscles in his body to make the blood go somewhere else, but no matter what, he could not stop imagining you sitting on top of him and it didn’t help that you had to wear shorts he knew it was like ninety degrees outside so he couldn’t blame you but still.

“Fuck” he moaned when he rubbed over the tent in his basketball shorts.

He quickly dropped them and his underwear on the ground fisting his cock at a fast pace. He had to hurry if he didn’t want anyone getting suspicious of him.

He bit his lip as he swirled his palm over his wet tip. “So fucking good, y/n” He closed his eyes, picturing you without those shorts on, wondering how good it’d feel for you to sit on his lap with nothing on. He’d love watching your perfect ass jiggle while you bounce on his big dick.

He had dreamed about it so many times he couldn’t even count. He knew it was wrong to like you cause you were only friends, but you made that extremely difficult for him, especially today.

He tugged at his balls, squeezing his sack softly while stroking his warm length. “Y/n, please don’t fucking stop” He was full-on fantasizing about you jerking his cock instead, wondering how you’d do it. Would you tease him? Would you do it nice and slow or rough and fast? Just the thought was getting him close. “Feels so good, baby,” he whispered.

Frankly, he wouldn’t care how you did it just as long as you were touching him.

“Hurry up, will you! I gotta go next,” he heard jakes voice outside the door and panicked.

“Shit” He knew if the guys knew what he was doing in here, they’d never let him live it down ever.

He quickly pulled up his shorts, tucking his erection in his waistband and hoping for the best.

“Sorry about that, it’s all yours” heeseung smiled awkwardly at Jake, hoping he wouldn’t notice anything, and to heeseung’s luck, he didn’t.

Now you, on the other hand, that’s a different story.

He avoided all eye contact with you and hopped in the back of the van while you left to buy something, he assumed, but just then, he got an idea. “Can I sit up front? I can give directions.”

“No!” They all said in unison, and he couldn’t help but wonder why all the guys were being such ass hats today. Just his luck.

But he did also get them lost when he was in control of the navigation on their road trip last year, so he supposed they had a right to respond that way.

Once you came out of the gas station, you made your way to the back, and heeseung peered out the window as if the scenery was just that beautiful, which it wasn’t. It was literally a dead-end gas station with flickering lights. You figured he must have just been embarrassed, but you understood it wasn’t intentional, and that just happens sometimes, and you didn’t judge him for it.

You sat on his lap once more, and Jay hit the road again. “Would you like some?” You offered him a drink of your ice-cold water, and if he’s being truthful, his body felt like it was on fire right now, partly cause you were sitting on his lap and the burning weather outside, so he accepted your offer.

“Thanks,” he whispers and drinks at least half the bottle in one go.

“I’m not disgusted by you or anything if that makes you feel any better,” you whisper to him, and you feel him tense up.

That definitely made him feel better, but it was still embarrassing for him.

You leaned back slightly, and you’re not sure if he had gotten hard again or he was still hard from earlier. You thought that’s why he went to the restroom to relieve himself. “Are you feeling any better?” you could only hope it didn’t make him more uncomfortable, but you just didn’t want him suffering for the next fifty minutes.

“Do you actually want to know the answer to that?” He whispers close to your ear so no one else would hear as his warm breath fans lightly across your face making you feel a shiver run up your spine.

“Yes,” you reply back in a whisper.

“No,” he replied honestly, and at this point, he’s been so hard for so long that it almost felt painful.

“I can help if you want?” You said boldly and pushed up against him a little, giving him a hint in case he didn’t know what you meant already.

You and heeseung were friends, yes, but that never once stopped you from thinking he was an attractive guy, and who cares? You were all on vacation to act crazy, party, and have fun, so why not start the fun right now?

Heeseung could have sworn he misheard, but he definitely saw the way you backed your ass up and pressed it on his aching length. “N-no, we’re almost there. I can take care of it later,” he politely declines.

You knew he was just being nice, but you really didn’t mind, and you can’t lie feeling his thick cock beneath your ass was turning you on, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t soaking wet right now. “Sure?” You gripped his knee and rotated your hips on his crotch teasingly, and he said fuck it and gave in.

He squeezed your hip with his right hand guiding you back and forth on his lap, groaning softly in your ear when your clothed ass brushed over his tip.

He grabbed your waist with his other hand pushing you down on his cock. You put your hands over his stopping his movement, and he was hesitant to do anything further in case he was making you uncomfortable. “Sorry, did I do something wrong?” You didn’t say anything. You lifted your hips and shimmied out of your shorts and underwear, and he gasped at the sight, watching a thick string of your arousal sticking to your thigh. though the sight was extremely hot to him, he didn’t want his friends to see you naked. “Are you crazy?” He whisper, yelled, and tried to cover your body with his hands. He looked around and thanked the stars that Sunghoon had fallen asleep beside him. Jake, his girlfriend, and Jungwon were too immersed in their game to care, and Jay was focused on driving while Sunoo was in the front seat giving directions which gave you and heeseung the green light.

“Relax,” you giggled and tugged at his shorts.

“Fuck okay,” he breathed out once he deemed it to be safe plus, nightfall had come already, so even if anyone did wake up, he could discreetly cover you and himself before anyone saw anything.

He pulled down his shorts, and you looked behind you while biting on your lip, looking at his huge dick resting on his abdomen.

You sat back down on his lap, dragging your pussy over his cock getting it nice and slippery so he could enter you with ease. “God baby, you’re so wet,” he mumbled in your ear groggily, already in a daze-like state from feeling your warm pussy gliding on his length. Evidently, he wasn’t the only one turned on.

He pushed his cock down at the base, sticking it between your legs, making it easier for you to grind on it. “So fucking big.”

“Yeah? You like that, huh?” He gripped your waist, now controlling the movement of your hips. “You gonna let me stick it in that pussy, baby? Wanna feel this big dick inside you? Hmm?” He kissed your neck sloppily while squeezing your hips.

“Yes, please,” you whined out, nearly moaning when you felt his tip poking at your quivering hole.

“Ooh, so polite” You could tell he was smirking by the tone of his voice. “You know just how to get what you want, huh, baby?” He nibbled your ear and bucked his hips up, pushing his cock past your tight entrance.

You had to cover your mouth to muffle your moan as you felt him stretching out your tight walls. You were thankful that he started out slow and let you adjust first cause he was huge. He slowly thrust in and out inch by inch until you could take all of it. He bit down on your shoulder softly and took a deep breath while he bottomed out. “You feel so good,” he moaned out after finally getting the relief he’s been needing for the past hour.

“You do, too” You swirled your hips while placing your hands on his knees to get a good angle to ride him. “Mmph,” you moaned.

“There you go,” he whispered, mesmerized by how you were swaying your hips in such a small space so effortlessly. “Just like that” He pulled his shirt up so he could watch his cock getting buried in your little cunt each time you moved back and forth on him.

He reached around you slipping his hands underneath your shirt to massage your tits, cupping them in his large warm hands and squeezing on them occasionally, not too rough but just right.

“Fuck heeseung,” he chuckled lowly in your ear.

“Like that? Having your tight little pussy filled with daddy’s dick?” Heeseung definitely made his dirty jokes here and there, but this was a whole new side of him you had never seen before. The filthy words coming from his mouth just made you wetter by the second.

“Mmh yes, Daddy,” he snuck a hand inside your bra, rolling your hard nipple between his fingers while he kissed on your neck.

“Shit, baby, you’re taking my dick so well” His comment made you clench down on his dick, squeezing your walls involuntarily. “Bounce on it,” he commands in a hushed voice, and you immediately obey, bouncing up and down on his cock just the way he ordered you to.

He breathily moaned in your ear, making you tighten your walls around him yet again. “S-so full” You could literally feel his dick everywhere inside you. The thickness brushing against your wet aching walls was absolute heaven.

“All for daddy’s girl” He dropped his right hand from your chest, cupping your mound with his palm before using his two fingers to massage your little swollen clit.

You threw your head back on his shoulder as he tugged at your sensitive nub.

“Gonna be good and let daddy breed his girl? Come on, baby, let Daddy fill you up. I know your little pussy wants it” He matched your pace when he felt your legs giving out, and he started bucking his hips into you, helping you ride him.

Luckily Jay had the radio on, and the quiet sounds of your guys' sweaty skin clapping against each other were drowned out.

“Yes, Daddy cum in me, please” You chewed on your lip, quieting your moans in the stifling van.

“Cum with Daddy, okay?” He said hurriedly, feeling high coming up on him.

“Hee- heeseung, I’m coming,” you breathed out.

“Oh god,” he grunted out. “Me too, y/n me t-too,” He spoke softly in your ear, and you felt his cock stiffen even more while he fucked into you and eventually spilled his seed inside you.

“Shit,” your squeak of a moan fell from your lips as he rubbed your clit in fast circles tipping you over the edge at the same time as him while his cock continued to ruin your spent pussy.

“Fuckkkkkkkk,” heeseung panted heavily in your ear as you felt his cock throbbing inside you and his warm ropes of cum staining your walls.

He didn’t think it was possible for an orgasm to feel so good, and to make it even better, your pussy just kept clenching on him nonstop, milking his dick for everything he had to give, which was a lot given the fact he hadn’t came in awhile.

“Fuck your cum into me, Daddy. Please, I’ve been a good girl for you,” you begged. Even though you were sensitive, you still needed to feel more of him.

“Fuck my girl is so dirty, such a naughty baby” He fulfilled your downright filthy wish, bucking his hip and fucking his cum back inside your used hole. He swiped his fingers over his length, collecting his release before holding it up to your mouth for you to suck on as he created a creamy mess between your sweaty bodies. “Does Daddy taste good?” You hummed around his fingers, and the lewd sticky sounds in the quietness of the van just made it ten times hotter you felt so dirty but so good at the same time.

Heeseung dared to look down and saw your pussy was nothing but a mess of his and your cum the creamy white ring around his base made him groan in pleasure as your pussy lips stretched around his length, taking everything he was giving to you.

After a few minutes, his cock had begun to soften, and he pulled out of you. You could feel his cum drip from your hole, and you put your hand under the small stream catching it in your palm once it leaked out of you.

You held your hand up to your mouth, licking it clean, refusing to let even a drop of him go to waste. “Such a good fucking girl for Daddy,” he breathed in your ear.

You looked back, smirking at him and showing him the creamy white on your tongue. “Let Daddy have a taste. Wanna have you on my tongue, baby” He gripped your jaw lightly, turning your face to the side so he could kiss you. You both kissed messily, playing with the liquid and passing it back and forth on each other’s tongues until it got lost in your guys' saliva and trickled down your throats. You both gulped each other's fluids down, humming in satisfaction before eventually pulling away.

You both pulled up your shorts and underwear once the post-orgasm clarity had kicked in, and the air was now quiet and peaceful heeseung’s hands fell on your waist. He then offered you some water, and you quietly accepted, swallowing the now room-temperature water.

He traced his hands over your belly, lifting up your crop top just a little to feel more of your skin on his fingertips as he kissed your neck occasionally.

You reached your hand back, tugging him forward by his neck, allowing him to press more wet kisses all over your exposed skin.

You’re not sure who rolled the windows down, but you were both so thankful when the cool breeze hit your warm skin. Both of you released a breath from the relaxing feeling of the chilly night air.

You cupped your other hand over his and ran your fingers through his dusty blonde hair. “We should do this again when we get to the hotel,” he hums against your neck. “Want to?”

“I’d love to,” you whisper, and you can feel him smiling on your skin.

So maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, after all, to accompany the boys on their road trip.

FIN.

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback! - 🐹

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! Could I request Spencer x bau!reader where Spencer is losing his mind when reader is in a dangerous situation and the team doesn’t understand why he’s panicking so much but then he accidentally reveals to the team that he’s been dating reader for awhile

Hi honey! Thanks for requesting :)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 880 words

The team hasn’t heard from you in nearly an hour. Spencer knows, reasonably, that an hour isn’t that long. He can do lots of things for more than an hour. Read, walk, work through calculus problems. He’s sat through terrible, awful movies that were more than double that amount of time. The flight here had been nearly three hours, and it had felt like nothing to him.

But when you’re supposed to be undercover and have stopped checking in, the hour since your last message is broken up into minutes, seconds, milliseconds. Not one of them goes by unnoticed. Because Spencer can’t help but imagine the possibility of you spending that time scared or in pain. 

He’s pacing in front of the board, trying to find the missing piece that will enable the team to go in and get you out of there, when JJ says his name sharply. 

He looks over to find the team staring at him. “Yeah?”

She shakes her head, bewildered. “I’ve called you, like, four times. Y/N’s on her way out.”

Spencer can’t tell if he’s stopped breathing or only just started. “

What?” his voice comes out hoarse. 

Hotch nods in confirmation. “She just got a message to Garcia. They know she’s FBI, but she managed to get out. She’ll be here any minute.” 

Spencer’s out of the tent before he even really processes moving, eyes scanning the parking lot. It’s two precious seconds before he catches sight of you, a shout ripping from his throat as he runs over. 

You make a tiny sound of surprise when he collides with you, grabbing clumsily at your form. He can’t tell if it’s him shaking or you, but whatever you say is muffled against his shirt collar as he presses your face into his shoulder. 

A moment later, he remembers why he’d been so desperate to see you in the first place and pulls back, hands moving over your shoulders, down your arms. 

“Are you okay?” The words feel like they shudder out of him. “Did they hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” you say, taking his wrists in your hands and ducking to look him in the eyes when he persists in his search anyway. “Hey, Spence. I’m okay.” 

“Why didn’t you check in?” He knows for certain it’s him shaking now. It feels like all he is is a jumble of frayed nerves. “Wh—why would you wait so long?”

You shake your head at him, and his brain is moving too erratically to decipher whether that slant to your brows means confusion or concern. “I had to lay low, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour—”

“An hour and four minutes.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, taking him by the shoulders and squeezing lightly. “Spence, honey, it’s alright, okay? I’m sorry I didn't check in earlier, but I’m alright.” 

Spencer gathers you against him again. His body doesn’t know that you’re alright, but he’s trying to prove it. You’re here, he tells himself, in one piece and without visible bleeding. He can feel you, your hands against his back, your chin jutting into his shoulder. 

It’s a longer hug, this time, less desperate, but he still doesn’t let you go all the way even when he does, cradling your face in both hands and pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head. 

“You scared me,” he says. Or wheezes, more like. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again, and Spencer shakes his head, because that’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want you to be sorry, he wants it to have not happened at all. For you to work the same job without ever needing to take the same risks, so that he can go to work every day and know that he doesn’t need to worry about you. You give him a wry smile, and he wonders if you can tell what he’s thinking. One thing he does know is that you’d never agree to it. 

Spencer can’t walk you back into the tent with his arm around you, but he does the next best thing, placing a hand at your elbow as he turns around. And right there, illuminated from behind by fluorescent lights like some harbinger of bad tidings, is Morgan. 

“Glad to see you’re okay, Y/N,” he says, looking already like he’s left surprise behind and is well on his way to amusement. “Wouldn’t have come out here if I’d known Boy Wonder was gonna have the welcome committee so well under control.” 

“Don’t,” you chide lightly, and Spencer’s hand stays on your elbow, but it’s really more you walking him towards the tent than the other way around. “He’s had a rough couple of hours.” 

“You’ve had the rough couple hours,” Spencer corrects you. 

“We all have,” Morgan mediates, flicking an eyebrow up at Spencer. “Though I have to admit, some of us seemed to be taking it even rougher than the rest. Wonder why that could be.” 

You shoot him a look as you go into the tent, and Morgan holds his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Hey, your secret’s safe with me.” 

Spencer’s still too rattled to scoff, but he doesn’t believe that for a second. The entire team will know before you get back to the jet.

[bigfatbimbo]

new(ish) anon here. I’ve been lurking for a while but here’s my first prompt/request. sorry if you’ve already written something like this

vox would try so hard to come across as a dom. he’s the head of a voxtek and he has so much power over everyone, including people. so when he gets with you, he’d try so hard to show how dominant he is, only to come apart with each touch he receives. he’d keep losing control until he’s a pathetic, whimpering mess under you.

thank you -📺

a/n — I absolutely eat this idea up. Sometimes I just look at Vox and get this incredible desire to be cruel and terrible.

Also I took a lot of inspiration from that one anon who had a similar idea! Just basically turned it into a whole fic.

At first you were okay with it, him having the power in the dynamic. It was an interesting change from usual so you decided to give it a try.

He was alright at first, even good at what he was doing. 

“That’s right, take it, slut,” He muttered harshly as he slid his dick into you.

However, it only took a couple thrusts before he started getting sloppy. You noticed his body start to shake above you, how his harsh words turned into quiet whimpers.

“Fuck, just like—nzz—just like that,“ he would try again, almost giving himself away when his voice cracked at the end.

“Everything ok, vox? You look a little—“ you gesture with your head as he sloppily thrusts into you, “—out of sorts.”

“No I— shut up,” he grunts and buffers slightly.

“Getting tired, already?” You tease as his hips begin moving more frantically. He squeezes his eyes shut as a high frequency starts coming from his head.

Your hands crept up his body and brush over his nipples. Then, finally, his body tenses and he lets out a disgusting, needy whine.

You don’t wait any longer. With on swift movement, you grab his hips and flip positions, leaving him underneath you.

“Hey! S—szz—stop that, you fucking slut i’m—“ he command comes off as more of a tantrum than a display of power.

You ride him so slowly it’s almost unbarable, he weakly attempts to thrust up into you. You shove back down forcefully and wrap your hand loosely around his neck, just strong enough to hold him in place.

“I’m obviously not the slut here, Vox,” You hiss down at him. 

He still squirms against you, “G—go faster, fuck,” he complained, his whines making him sound like an indignant child.

“Oh, I don’t think I will,” You hum against him, nails digging into his neck, “It’s embarrassingly clear you can’t handle calling the shots here, baby.”

“Nngh— bzz— yes I can I just—“ he whimpers uselessly, unable to think when you’re riding his dick so agonizingly slow. 

“Stop throwing a hissy fit and maybe i’ll speed up,” you say keeping your voice even. “Honestly, Vox, how did you ever expect to dominate me when you pout like a child when you don’t get your way?”

He whines and squirms below you, trying not to glitch out. 

“It’s honestly pathetic,” you laugh, speeding up a little bit when he refrains from arguing, “But, it is funny, how fast you fall apart.” 

He simply whimpers in response, screen lagging out almost as rapidly as his voice. He practically sinks into the mattress when you ride his dick faster. 

You start to hump him at a rapid, rough, pace, making his back arch him and his screen complete blank out for a couple seconds.

“You make it so much harder than it needs to be, Vox,” you grunt against him, “How hard is it to be good for me? Do you need to throw a fit every time?”

“Fuck— zzs—“ Vox cried out, trying not the thrust upward, trying to avoid anymore degrading words from you.

You were being so mean, and even though he knew it was his doing, he miserably craved validation from you after all of these harsh jeers.

Although it was getting harder to speak without incoherently glitching out, he tried his hardest to mutter out sorry excuses for apologies.

You took them into consideration and rode him faster, caressing his chest with your thumb. “I have to admit though, baby, you are so damn pretty when you’re like this.”

It was stupid, it was barely praise. And yet he grasped desperately at the strings of your approval. 

The frequency in his head got unbearably loud and he threw his hands to the stop of his screen and moaned loudly.

All of a sudden, your hips slowed to a stop, and you gazed down at him in disgust.

“Why’d you st—st—stop?” he whined up at you before realizing his mistake. He had came prematurely and without permission.

You grabbed his throat and he moaned, “Did I say you could do that, pretty boy?”

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his screen blank out for a couple seconds.

“And to think you tried to hold any power over me,” you practically laugh, “You cant even control yourself, you stupid whore.”

He hiccuped and let out a low whimper, “‘m sorry, ‘m so s—szz—sorry, please,” he cried, “‘need praise, I cant—“

His voice glitches out and the power flashes. You start riding him again as you take his wrists and hold them down on either side of him, preventing him from touching you as he squirmed and writhed below you.

“Earn it.” 

a/n — Maybe later tonight i’ll finally get out that one pegging Lucifer fic i’ve been teasing for the past four days but literally never finished.

The night is young!

[gglitch1dd]

Hiya glitch! Just out of curiosity, in a completely dif timeline if Katsuki hadn’t cheated in the first place, would y/n and him ended up at least having a family in the future as well? If so about how many kids do you think they would have had if they considered it?

Also since you head canon Izuku to have only boys and Eiji only girls, what’s your headcanon for Kats? :0

Hey lovey!! In a different timeline where Katsuki hadn't cheated, I do think reader and him would end up pretty happy together. There's no sign showing that they wouldn't. I do think Katsuki would have more girls than boys though. His life would go a bit like this:

DILF Katsuki's Perfect Ending

DILF Bakugou Katsuki x Wifey Reader

Katsuki sat up with a gasp, clutching his heart. He sat in bed his crimson eyes wide in fear as his heart beat a million miles an hour. He noticed you shift next to him, turning to look up at him confused, your eyes still clouded with sleep. Katsuki looked at the window noticing the few strands of morning light seeping in. He saw you saying something but he couldn’t hear what you said. He grabbed his hearing aids from their charging doc and put them in his ears.

At sound returning to his world, he took a deep breath.

“Katsuki?” You placed a hand on his arm as you slowly sat up in bed. Your eyebrows furrowed in worry. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Katsuki looked at you before looking off to the side. “I had a nightmare.” He let out lowly, his voice still deep and scratchy with sleep. He looked greatly disturbed by whatever this nightmare was about. You moved over closer to him, tilting your head confused. “I cheated on you and you married Deku.” He started making your face fall and your eyes wide.

“And you had all these little broccoli haired brats! And they were everywhere! Five whole boys, Y/N, for that fucking nerd! And you were so happy and I was miserable and I missed you so much! And I regrated everything and I was married to Eijiro and we had a divorce and then I had this kid from an egg doner or something, he seemed like a good kid, but I was a terrible father! It was horrible! You were all over Deku being such an amazing wife and making him all these dumplings that made him look like a fucking pig and-”

Katsuki stopped rambling about his dream as you giggled at the explanation of what he had been through in his sleep. You leaned against his arm, looking up at him amused. That was not the first thing you thought your husband would tell you this morning. “Really Katsuki? Me and Izuku?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. “That must have been one hell of a dream, Katsuki, but I’m here.” You took his large hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. “Your wife of two decades, I’m here.”

At that reminder his shoulders eased as he moved to wrap his arms around you and pull you back to lie in bed. He took a deep breath, just feeling you wrapped up in his arms. You always fit so good there, where you belonged. He tightened his arms around. “Yah, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He grumbled. “You’d never marry Deku.”

“…”

“…Y/N!”

You let out a laugh at the pure distress in the way he said your name. “I’m pulling your leg, Tsuki. I have no reason to marry Izuku. I have you and the kids and that’s all I need.” You told him honestly, resting your head on his chest with a smile. He nodded in agreement with that statement, an affirming grunt. “But now that we’re awake, we should get breakfast and wake up the kids.” You reminded him.

He let out a low grumbled. “Right. Those little parasites.” He grumbled making you laugh as you carefully started getting out of bed, but Katsuki wouldn’t let go of you.

“Hey! They are your little parasites Mr Bakugō.” You reminded him, tapping his cheek.

He playfully scowled at you like the big man child he was. “Don’t remind me.” He joked, rolling his eyes.

You tried wrenching yourself free but it wasn’t working. “Katsuki. Let go of me.”

“No.” He stated adamantly as he pulled you closer, moving to roll on top of you.

You let out a laugh at how impossible he was being. You tried pushing him off you but the giant prohero was not budging one bit. “You’re heavy!”

He clung to you like a koala. “Too bad.”

After convincing Katsuki that you could take a bath together as long as he got off of you, you headed to freshen up before you both left your bedroom. Katsuki went to his domain which was the kitchen. He slipped on his pink frilly apron that his dad used to wear and got started on breakfast as you came down the steps with your four year old and youngest child.

You sat Kazue on the ground and she went waddling over to her father immediately, grabbing onto his sweatpants. Katsuki looked down at the little blond girl with poofy pigtails. She tugged on his pants before looking up at him with her little Dynamight plushy in her arms. She sucked on her thumb before looking up at him. “Morning Poppa.” She greeted softly.

Katsuki smiled at his only quiet child. He grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands before picking her up. “There you are my angel.” He said, kissing her chubby cheek making her smile as she took her thumb out of her mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her with one arm, putting her on his hip as he continued to make pancakes. “Poppa’s making pancakes. Will you eat one?” She nodded her head, keeping her head in the crook of his neck.

Letting out a loud yawn walking into the kitchen was your eldest. You smiled at the sight of him as he automatically made his way to you. He placed a kiss to your cheek before resting his head on top of yours. You chuckled. “Morning Eitsuki.”

“Mornin’ Ma” He grumbled tiredly. The blond teenager basically just clung to you, recharging whatever battery he wasn’t able to last night.

You moved a hand to his face softly. “Up gaming all night?” You asked. He let out an affirmative sound. Katsuki let out a tsk. Eitsuki raised an eyebrow. He let go of you and moved to sit at the kitchen island as well. “Morning Pops.” Katsuki let out a grunt in reply. Eitsuki turned to you, deep blood crimson eyes looking at you. He motioned to his father. “What’s wrong with him?” He asked confused.

“Your father had a bad dream. He said I got married to Uncle Izuku.”

Eitsuki let out a scoff as he took out his phone from his pocket. “Bad dream?” He leaned back. “Sounds like a fucking nightmare.”

“That’s what I said!” Katsuki said loudly, turning back with a pointed look, trying to emphasise his point. “Deku can’t be the number one fucking hero and take my wife! Not over,” He pointed his spatula to his chest. “My dead body!”

You rolled your eyes at your excentric husband and looked back to your eldest. “It’s so nice to have you for the weekend from UA. How’s it going?”

The sixteen year old shrugged. “It’s alright, Mr Aizawa is pretty fed up though. Said he was getting war flashbacks or something.”

Katsuki scoffed at the mention of his old teacher but a small smile on his face as he shook his head, turning back to flip the fluffy pancake perfectly. “He’s just scared cause he already had to deal with us once upon a time.”

Eitsuki opened his mouth to speak when-

“POPPA!” A loud shout called as a girl entered the room. The twelve year old held a phone to her ear as she peaked into the kitchen.

“DON’T FUCKING SHOUT!” Eitsuki barked at her with a scowl on his face. “IT’S LIKE EIGHT IN THE MORNING!”

“I WASN’T TALKING TO YOU!” Hikaru screamed back.

Your husband rolled his eyes before looking at his second eldest child. “What is it Hikaru?”

She turned to look back at her father. “Can I go out with Hana and Sachiko? We want to go out to the mall?” She asked as she leaned against the doorpost. The girl looked a lot like your mother in law Mitsuki and had the same fiery temper that the Bakugō’s had.

Katsuki was silent for a moment as he thought about it. He looked too you. You shrugged, not seeing a problem with it. He looked back to Hikaru. “Only if your brother goes with you.” He motioned to Eitsuki.

Eitsuki and Hikaru both got wide eyes, clearly neither of them liking that arrangement. “WHAT!?”

“Pops I don’t want to go with her and her annoying friends!” Eitsuki stated as he motioned to his sister. “They’ll drag me around like a headless chicken!”

“And I don’t want to be stuck with him!” She pointed at her brother with a finger. “He’s ugly! He ruins the entire trip!”

“I AM NOT UGLY!”

“WHO TOLD YOU THAT? MOM!”

“POPPA!” Running into the kitchen was your eight year old, Suzume. “Are you taking me to gymnastic practice?”

“POPS DID YOU HEAR WHAT SHE JUST SAID TO ME?”

“HE SMELLS TOO!”

“BUT WHAT ABOUT GYMNASTICS!”

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP!” Your husband shouted, effectively silencing everyone.

He looked over at his family with wide eyes. He put his fingers to the bridge of his nose with a scowl as he sighed. Kazue looked up at her father with a tired look but snuggled back into his neck, burying her face there. At the feeling of his youngest he sighed.

He opened his eyes and looked to Eitsuki. “You! You’re going to the mall with your sister, you’re there for three hours then you can drag her ass back home. You!” He pointed to Hikaru. “You’re brother is going with you whether you like it or not. I’m not letting a bunch of twelve year old girls go around a mall by themselves. You!” He pointed to Suzume. “Mom’s taking you to gymnastic practice, make sure you’re ready by ten. And you!” Katsuki looked to you. You looked up from where you were sipping your coffee.

You looked around before smiling. “You seem like you’re handling things, Tsuki.” You affirmed with a smile. “Good job.” You gave him a thumbs up.

Katsuki rolled his eyes as the kitchen started up with talking again. His two eldest were arguing, his third was busy trying to convince you to let her bring her new costume to gymnastics and at least his youngest seemed very comfortable in his arms. Despite the chaos that was the Bakugō family, Katsuki smiled.

-Glitch1d

[rxmqnova]

Reader is an autistic rookie agent. Natasha is her new SO (no-one else would train her) after a rogue gun shot sends us into an autistic burn out Natasha realises just how much she has to step up to train , support and encourage her new and frankly only rookie.

(Maybe Nat remembers a girl from the red room being punished for something similar and Nat get very protective of R almost overnight? )

The someone

NO ONE'S POV Y/N takes a deep breath before stepping into the gym, her palms are sweaty from how much she's nervous. She's having her very first training with non other than Black Widow herself.

Fury specially assigned her to Natasha. The redhead has no idea why. There are lots of other agents who can train and Natasha has a lot of work with being an Avenger now.

Though she knows Fury doesn't do anything without a reason, so she just goes along with it. Now she's waiting in the gym for her trainee.

When she sees the young girl approaching, she crosses her arms over her chest and waits until the girl walks closer.

"You're late" Is the first thing that leaves Natasha's lips.

Ever since Y/N woke up today, her day has been terrible. She spilled her tea, so she needed to change her favorite shirt for a different one.

She lost her keys, so she looked around her entire apartment just to find them in one of her jackets 30 minutes later.

"I-I'm sorry, miss. I didn't mean to, but my keys-"

"None of that. Just make sure it won't happen again. And you can call me Natasha" The redhead cuts the young girl off, receiving an immediate nod.

"Won't happen again, miss. I-I mean… Natasha" Y/N blurts out, giving Natasha an akward smile before putting her bag down on the ground to get ready for her training.

Everything seems to be great. Y/N is in a good shape which actually is quite surprising to Natasha as she wasn't expecting it at all.

The girls do some running, combat skills, work out. And then Natasha takes Y/N to the shooting range to see how good Y/N is with a gun.

"Take these" Natasha hands the younger girl soundproof headphones as soon as she explains everything, expecting Y/N to put them on and do what she just told her.

But Y/N just keeps looking around in awe, she's never been here before and this place just amazes her. She's lost in her own world that she doesn't acknowledge Natasha's pulling the trigger.

A loud bang gets Y/N back to reality, her hands start shaking before she moves to sit into the nearest corner, her shaking hands hugging her knees tightly. She struggles with breathing by now which got caused by crying.

Meanwhile Natasha puts her gun down, turning around to tell Y/N to try it. The redhead immediately puts her headphones away when she sees the state her trainee is.

"Y/N!" She rushes to the girl, kneeling down in front of her. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay" She tries to comfort, but it doesn't seem to help.

"What do I do?" Natasha asks herself, thinking hard about anything that could help Y/N calm down.

Suddenly she remembers a situation that happened back in the Red room. There was a girl about her age, she was hidden in a corner, crying and shaking just like Y/N is right now. She got really badly punished back then, but Natasha knows she has to try something now and calm Y/N down.

"Y/N, it's Natasha. You're okay, sweetheart" Natasha says softly, placing her hand on Y/N's knee, but the girl just flinches away.

The redhead lets out a breath in frustration, closing her eyes and thinking about what to do. When she opens her eyes again, she spots the headphones she's still holding. She very carefully puts them on Y/N's ear, hoping that the silence would help the young girl calm down… and after a while it finally does.

———

The clock hits 2 am and Natasha still isn't sleeping. She just can't, her mind keeps wandering from the young widow to her young trainee.

She knows she needs to be more careful and keep her eye on the girl. She doesn't want her to go through anything similar as the girl back in the Red Room and wants her to feel safe.

The morning finally comes and Natasha goes to the gym where she's supposed to meet Y/N. Like she knew this would happen, Y/N runs in at the last minute, blurting out one apology after another, but Natasha just smiles, hands the young girl a bottle of water and a protein bar for breakfast.

Y/N clearly needs someone to look out for her and someone who would make sure she always feel safe and comfortable. Someone who would support and encourage her. And Natasha is ready to be the someone.

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

I don't know much about autism. I did some research, but I'm not sure if this is accurate.

Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Masterlist

[zayneslady]

summary: it's been a while since the last time you saw him, but you missed him so terribly.

warnings: angst/comfort. Happy endings for the win *sobs* Pt. 2 of these scenarios

characters: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x reader (separately)

a/n: I wanted to apologize. I got some comments saying that perhaps I wrote them a bit too ooc and that they wouldn't do something like this, so I was thinking maybe I should step out from writing these; I'm probably not understanding the characters very well. I'm really sorry! I had this one written already, so this is probably going to be the last post I make! Thank you for your support! In only a couple of days you guys were so amazing and loving, I'm super moved and I don't deserve you all at all ❤️

classification: scenarios

tag list: many of you asked me to tag you in the second part, I hope you guys like it! 💕

@biitchyberry @rosaryia @lcheerymotion @mo0nforme

ZAYNE ❄️

It's been four weeks since your argument with Zayne. The first days had been like hell. You had already tasted the honey of a relationship with the person you liked the most and loved the most. You wanted more of him, you needed more. You felt anxious without him, like you had become addicted to his kisses, his gentle touch, and the sweet words he whispered in your ears. You missed him more than you dared to admit.

The days passed slowly, each second seemed to last an eternity. When you got home you felt the emptiness of his presence and you felt like dying, but life continued on, and eventually you got used to being without him. The pain was still present, but more bearable as time kept its course. 

You had stopped frequenting the places you knew he liked for fear of running into him. The dessert shop, the cafe near the hospital, the night stands near the library. You even avoided getting sick so you wouldn't have to go to the hospital. Your life was limited to going to work and coming straight home, with occasional visits to buy groceries. 

You would never have thought that you would have to live a life again without Zayne and only because he didn't know how to separate his friendships from his romantic partner. So smart, but so stupid at the same time. 

You sighed, returning to the present and the food you were making; it was too late when you realized it, but unconsciously you were making one of his favorite dishes. You weren't going to waste the food, so you just carried on trying not to think much about it. 

“Now, where did I put–,” you stopped, surprised by the sudden knocking on your door. You frowned, you were not expecting anyone, but the knocking continued once more and you sighed, turned off the stove. “I'm coming.”

You regretted opening the door. Opening just a crack to see who it was, your heart fluttered in your chest as if there was a small caged bird inside it. Zayne was standing in front of you. He looked ridiculously tired, more than you'd ever seen him. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were deep, his skin did not look radiant and healthy as always and his eyes did not shine like emeralds. 

Your hands were sweating and your insides were churning. "Are you okay?" You asked with a broken voice. Zayne shook his head and he fainted, but with a gasp, you quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and tried to keep him upright. “Zayne! Hey, what's happening?” 

Zayne didn't answer you, and just leaned on you. Not knowing what to do, you dragged him inside and carefully guided him to your room. Once there, you laid him down on your bed, he looked weak. 

“Zayne? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” 

He mumbled your name and your heart raced. “I'm… I am sorry,” he said as he finally passed out. You gasped, but soon heard the soft snores you were so used to. 

Was he that exhausted? And what was he doing at your house? You frowned, fighting back the stinging sensation in your eyes as you tried to hold back some tears. He really always appeared to stir everything inside you. You had already accepted your life without him, but here he was. You sighed heavily, taking off Zayne's shoes and covering him with a blanket.

Your eyes couldn't help but admire him. Even though he was tired, he still looked as handsome as ever. It seemed like a dream, an illusion that would disappear at any moment. You wanted it to happen. You wanted him to disappear, but at the same time, you wanted to take him in your arms and kiss his face. But no, clearing your throat, you grabbed an extra blanket and left the room, closing the door behind you. It was better to let him rest so he could leave as soon as he got up. 

The next morning you woke up to soft steps. Sitting up and whining a little after sleeping on the couch, you saw Zayne coming out from your bedroom. His hair was messy and he was rubbing one of his eyes like a little child, something warm spread across your chest and a smile tried to spread your lips, but you stopped it. He seemed more rested, the bags under his eyes had diminished considerably and his skin looked a little more alive. 

“Zayne.”

He seemed a bit startled as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “Hello… I am sorry I fell asleep.” 

You hummed, folding the blanket. “Haven't you been sleeping well?" You didn't want to sound worried, but you were. 

“I haven't… I constantly have nightmares and I've been working over time… a lot more."

“Why?”

“Because I can't stop thinking about you,” he said and despair filled his eyes. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I have been working nonstop so I can have my mind occupied, but you're always there, in the back of my head.” 

Don't cry. Don't cry! 

“And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Zayne?” You said coldly, wanting to get over with this. 

Zayne approached you and you couldn't move as he took your hands. “Please, please. Give me another chance. I swear. I swear in my life that I do not have feelings for her. I just… I was just stupid and took you for granted. Please, my love, please.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes and you cried even harder as Zayne grabbed your face. "N-No, don't touch me.”

“Please. How can I show you I truly want you? Do you want me to stop talking to her? I'll do it. I'll do it, so please. Just… please. I can't live without you.” His words sounded sincere.

His eyes were glassy and the pain on his face was evident, but your heart still hurt. How did you know that he really wouldn't leave you as a second option anymore? You couldn't even tell him to stop talking to Miss Hunter, you knew this was just Zayne's fault. 

“Zayne… Zayne you're hurting me so much.”

“I know. I know I am and I am terribly sorry for this. I love you. I truly love you.” 

You also loved him, so much. 

“... If this ever happens again, Zayne… I won't forgive you another time. Remember that.”

His green eyes shone with happiness as he pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, the tips of your fingers tingling as you felt his warmth, the tip of your nose digging into the crook of his neck, you breathed deeply, enjoying his scent. 

“You're on trial, Zayne.”

Zayne chuckled and he nodded. “Yes. You won't regret me, I promise you.”

RAFAYEL 🐠

Life was boring without him. He was the spark and the spice in your days. With him, every day seemed like a small adventure, but now that you no longer saw him, the days seemed dark and lifeless. You didn't even remember how much time had passed since that day. One week? Three days? Two months? You weren't sure and, honestly, you tried not to think about it too much because, even though you missed him, the pang of pain in your heart almost made you gasp for air every single time you recalled every moment with him. It was almost as if his bodyguard had also been there, on every date with Rafayel, for all of your conversations were about her. 

He was full of praise for her. He named each of her virtues and laughed affectionately at her defects. He didn't accept anyone claiming that they were better than her or stronger, because his precious bodyguard was the strongest and the bestest. Just thinking about it made you feel tears filling your eyes. You didn't want to remember any of it, but as you held your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial button, you couldn't stop thinking about how miserable Rafayel made you feel, even when he also made you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

When he didn't have his mouth full of his wonderful bodyguard, Rafayel showered you with affection. His kisses, his hugs, and his caresses all felt full of love and tenderness. His beautiful eyes looked at you sweetly, as if you were the most precious thing that ever existed on earth. He liked to tease you and make you laugh and he always said that you were like a muse for all his paintings: The sparkle in your eyes, the color of your hair, the texture of your skin, the curves of your body, everything was inspiration.

How could he be so cruel and loving all at the same time? Poor bodyguard, you even didn't like her although she hadn't done anything wrong, as far as you knew. 

Sighing, you finally tapped on the green button and your heart raced faster and faster at every beep coming from the other side of the line. Would he answer you? Was he… with her? Was he busy with one of his paintings? What if- 

His voice calling your name surprised you, making you jump. “I’m here! Hi!” he sounded out of breath and your cheeks blushed. “Hmm, h-how are you d-doing?” 

“Rafayel…,” you took a deep breath. “I… have some clothes at your place. Could I stop by later to get them?” 

“YES! I… I mean… yes. I'll- I'll be here all day. You can stop by at any time you want.”

“... Right. Then, see you there, Rafayel.” 

You let out a long sigh after hanging up. You had forgotten how wonderful his voice was and the way he pronounced your name. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were going to see him, you were really going to come again, but you shouldn't be excited. What if he and his bodyguard were dating? The thought made your stomach twist and you decided it was best to leave immediately. The quicker you finish this, the better. 

As always, the door was open, but you didn't immediately enter, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing against your ribcage. You didn't want to see him.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pushed the door open and you were greeted with that aroma that you had missed so much. The smell of acrylic paint, the sea and Rafayel's scent. You couldn't help but take a long breath- this exquisite smell felt like home. Your eyes watered a little, but you tried to stay calm as you walked deeper into the spacious house.

“R-Rafayel? Are you here? "You heard a gasp from the room and in a second, Rafayel appeared in front of you. Ah, he looked as wonderful and beautiful as always. His gorgeous eyes were wide, looking you up and down as his mouth stretched into a shy smile. You wanted to hug him. “The door… was open so I just- I'm sorry.”

“No! That's okay! I… I left it open for you!” 

You nodded. “I see… do you mind if I just…”

“No, go ahead, please.” You excuse yourself as you made your way to his room, as you passed by him you felt your legs tremble and you gasped in surprise when he suddenly took your hand.

“Rafayel, what-

“Please, forgive me,” he begged, his eyebrows furrowed in a painful expression. “I was absolutely wrong, you were so right. I was stupid and careless and hurt you so badly.”

“Rafayel… I just came for my clothing, let me g-

“Please!” He hugged you and you went stiff. “Please, please,” he sobbed in your ear. 

“Are you crying?” 

He nodded. “I can't live another second without you. I can't paint anymore. I feel like a piece of me has been taken away, I live half and barely. I really, really do not have feelings for my bodyguard. You're the only one I can think about.”

“Then why- 

“I just… I was just stupid, I didn't mean anything to hurt you, I swear! When I said I missed her, what I wanted to say is that I wanted to train with her, I would never make you train, that's too dangerous,” he started to explain in a rush. “When I told you about the candies, it's because she gave me some amazing chocolate I wanted to gift you and then-

“Rafayel-

“Please. Just this once, I swear,” he said, finally showing his reddened face, tears streaming down his face. You gulped, reaching up to clean his tears away and he whined. “I wasn't there to wipe your tears, I am so sorry.” 

That made you burst into tears. That's right, you really wanted him to wipe your tears. He gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching all of those tears falling from your pretty eyes. 

“You can break up with me if I do something like that again! But please… just this once. I love you so much. I really do.” 

You looked at him, His eyes were still wet and some tears were still falling down his cheeks. Maybe…

“Just this once, Rafayel… I won't forgive anything like this ever again.” He beamed and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, but you covered his mouth, frowning slightly. “I'm still mad at you.”

He blinked and gently smiled behind your hand before taking it in his. “Of course, I'll prove myself to you, beautiful creation.” 

XAVIER ⭐

You couldn't sleep. It's been two weeks since you last slept properly. Two weeks ago you were in Xavier's arms and he held you lovingly, whispering words of comfort in your ears. You weren't sure why, but being around Xavier always made you feel relaxed, a little sleepy, but never bored. You loved spending lazy times with him, taking naps and frolicking in bed, giggling like fools and giving each other soft, tender kisses. 

With his warmth and love it was not difficult to fall asleep at night, he always wanted to sleep so that tranquility that emanated from him was enough to relax you and make you sleep throughout the whole night. In the mornings you felt rejuvenated and full of life and seeing his sleepy smile was like living in a dream. 

You felt your bottom lip quiver into a pout. You missed him too much. You never thought he would behave that way. Had you never really been important to him? If he wanted to be with his partner so much, why had he even agreed to go out with you in the first place? 

“Agh! I hate you Xavier!” You cried, banging your fists against the table in your kitchen. “Why did you let me fall in love with you?” Maybe you really had gone crazy, talking to the table like that. 

There was no time for this. It was almost dark and you still needed to go buy some groceries for your dinner. You struggled out of your house, so tired and dragging your feet. You wanted to sleep... with Xavier. You wanted to feel his warmth. But... what if he now wrapped his partner in his arms? Your cheeks turned red and, trying to avoid thinking about it, you hurried to catch the bus. 

You found a seat near the door and next to a young man, there weren't as many people as you imagined and as the bus started to go you felt your eyes heavy. Maybe... you could sleep for a few minutes? The store wasn't far away, so just a few minutes... just a couple of minutes… 

You heard your name being called between clouds. From far away. Over and over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

“Hmm?” You opened your eyes and gasped, How long had it been?! Where were you? And... why was your head...? Had you fallen asleep on someone's shoulder?! "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You said, raising your head only to find that the young man next to you... "Xavier?!" 

The hunter blinked, his eyes avoided yours for a second before looking directly at you and nodding a small greeting. Had he been there next to you the whole time? You could barely notice what was happening around you with how tired you were, but, strangely, you felt very good. It seemed like he really was the cure for all your ills. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. Xavier looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side like a little bird. 

“I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn't know you were there,” you jumped, “but wait, where are we?!” Checking outside the window, you could tell you were far away from the store now. 

“We're almost at my place,” he said gently and the alarms in your head set off. His partner... didn't she live in the apartment below?! Oh no. Before, you had no problem staying at Xavier's house, but... if they were really in a relationship…

“I gotta go,” you said, seeing the next bus station. It was already dark outside.

“Where are you going?” Xavier asked and you frowned.

“What do you mean? Back home. I only wanted to go to the store, but I fell asleep as you could see… Now it's even dark. Thankfully it's not raining,” you were babbling to yourself as you waited to arrive at the next stop, when you finally did, you got up. “Sorry about that, Xavier. Goodnight.” 

"Now... The next bus…," you mumbled checking the bus's schedule. "10 minutes? Lucky~"

“I'll go with you.” 

You couldn't help but squeal and jump when you heard his voice right behind you. Turning around, you saw him standing there, as tall as he was and as bright as the stars. 

“I'll take you home. It's dark. Something could happen.”

You rolled your eyes. "What could happen, I'm only going home.” 

“Some witnesses have seen wanderers in the area. I can't let you go alone." 

You sat on the bench, arms crossed, Xavier sitting next to you. "Ah, that's true. I'm not strong like your... Forget it." Your cheeks turned red. Very well! Keep opening your big mouth! Xavier didn't say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you and the blush on your cheeks traveled to the tips of your ears. 

Silence reigned between you. You could feel him, his warmth, he was so close to you, you could reach out and touch his knee. Your eyes felt heavy, you wanted to hug him. 

“I am sorry,” he suddenly said and you thought you imagined it but then he repeated it. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.” You turned to look at him and flinched when he saw his bright eyes looking sad and red. “I don't know what I was thinking. Talking like that in front of my girlfriend. Acting like I didn't want to have been there with you, but you're the only person I want close to me. I don't like nor have feelings for my coworker, I only want and need you.” 

He gently wiped a tear from your rosy cheek, his touch was electrifying. 

“You haven't been sleeping well.” You didn't answer, but he continued. “I haven't been able to sleep either. I keep recalling that day and seeing your crying face, I can't stand it… please forgive me.” 

He took your hands and you finally looked up at him, your eyes widening as you saw a small tear fall down his cheek. 

“I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I still beg you, I beg you to give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. Something like this will never happen again. I was an idiot." 

You frowned, “you were an idiot. Do you have any idea how you made me feel? It's hard to believe you love me.” 

He nodded, listening to you carefully. “I know it's hard to believe, but please let me prove it to you, let me show you how much I love you, please. I can't be without you anymore, my star. I need you, otherwise I'll go crazy. Please.” 

You sobbed and Xavier gently pulled you close to him. Wrapping you between his warm arms. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let you and soon you melted in his embrace, crying into his work clothes. 

“Please, give me another chance.” 

You nodded softly. Just one more chance. “There's not gonna be a second time,” you warned between sobs and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. 

“I won't need them. I will treasure you as the most valuable thing that you are. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”