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posh--bee · 2 months

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hotel room revelations || Spencer Reid

pairing → Spencer Reid x Reader

summary → While on a case, you have to not only share a hotel room but also a bed with the BAU's resident genius Spencer Reid whom you have had a crush on since he first joined the FBI. When you wake up during the night with his arms wrapped around you, previously hidden feelings come to light and you realize that your unrequited feelings for him might not be so unrequited after all.

warnings → sharing a bed, love confessions, early seasons!Spencer, insecure!Spencer, misunderstandings, friends to lovers, reader is part of the BAU, no descriptions or pronouns used for the reader, no y/n used

author’s note → I love the "there was only one bed" trope so of course I had to write it with my beloved genius. I'm so happy to finally finish another fic again so let me know what you think about it! <3 (forgot to post this fic and now my cm obsession fizzled out, oops. But I know it will come back to haunt me sooner or later)

word count → 5.2k

When you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re not too happy about it and not sure who or what to blame for it.

You grumble your dissatisfaction without opening your eyes and the warm body behind you freezes.

Now you’re a little confused and you try to fight off the urge to just drift off again so you can actually form a coherent thought because you don’t remember going to sleep with someone else by your side last night. But thinking is still a little difficult when you’re half-asleep and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to even remember if you’re in your own bedroom right now or in another state in some sort of hotel room because of work, so your memory is not the most reliable source of help at the moment.

The someone behind you still holding you in their arms seems to get a little impatient and tries to slowly move away from you again but you don’t let them, instinctively grabbing their hand that is resting softly against your stomach and interlacing your fingers with theirs to keep it there. You hear a startled little sound close to your ear and feel the someone behind you going rigid, even holding their breath in surprise. Feeling bad about spooking your bedmate so suddenly, you apologize by soothingly stroking up and down their arm that is draped over your waist before going back to holding their hand. You don’t want them to let go of you even though you’re still not quite sure who exactly they actually are—but you’re still working on that.

What you do know, however, is that they’re warm and holding you in a gentle embrace and that you feel very safe and secure in their arms. And that you don’t want it to end.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction when you feel the someone gradually relaxing against you once more and you can finally pick up that derailed train of thought of yours to figure out where you are and why you’re not alone in bed.

But that’s when the someone behind you decides to speak up and solve the mystery at last.

“I… I’m really sorry, but I have to move. My arm’s completely fallen asleep…”

Oh. That’s right.

His voice is quiet, timid even and still laced with sleep, and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more awake than just moments before, your heart immediately picking up speed as you remember how you and Spencer ended up in the same bed together.

You’re currently in a little hotel room in a city halfway across the country because of a case JJ had presented you the day before. Five bodies with a sixth person still missing and the local police had decided to ask for the BAU’s help to stop whoever is responsible for these crimes. Spencer and you started to work on the geographical profile while the rest of the team drove to the scenes of crime and talked to the victims’ families. After working until the middle of the night but without making any considerable progress anymore, Hotch decided it was time to go to the hotel, rest, and return to the case after a good night’s sleep.

The hotel was pretty booked already when you boarded the jet so when you arrived at last in the lobby, exhaustion already weighing heavy on your shoulders and your eyelids dangerously heavy, the team was told they had to share rooms and even ended up with a room with a double bed instead of two single ones.

When JJ first announced this little circumstance at first, you really couldn’t care less. Somehow, your tired brain didn’t really consider that you would be one of the people staying in the room with a double bed and much less who would be the other person with you. But when Morgan sauntered over to you, letting the key ring spin around his finger, a wicked gleam in his eyes, you knew nothing good would come of it.

With a smirk he pressed the keys into your hand and announced that you and Spencer would be the lucky pair to share the room with the double bed, giving you a wink that made you want to kill him just a little bit. Morgan knows very well about your little, not all that serious crush on your coworker and makes a point to tease you about it whenever he can, which, unfortunately for you, is very often. Your only consolation is that Spencer is too oblivious to pick up on it even though Derek makes sure everyone and their mother knows how you feel about the young doctor. He obviously claims it’s only because he’s playing cupid and can’t stand the two of you dancing around each other for eternity, but you know for a fact that he’s obviously doing it for his own entertainment as well. Besides, playing cupid only gets you so far when only one person has feelings for the other one—which you’re painfully aware is the case for you and Spencer.

With an especially dirty eyeroll you grabbed the keys and turned to look at Spencer who gave you one of his signature tight-lipped awkward smiles. He didn’t look very happy at the prospect of having to share not only a room but also a bed with you and you tried your hardest not to take it personally. You know Spencer values his personal space so having to spend this and the following nights with another person next to him is nothing to look forward to for him—even if it’s with a good friend.

You masked your disappointment and bruised feelings with a small smile of your own and led the way toward the elevators at the end of the hotel lobby, pointedly ignoring Morgan’s teasing voice telling you to have a good night. You silently swore to yourself that you would get back at him for all of this when the case was solved and over, but right now you were more worried about surviving the next few nights of having Spencer so close to you yet completely out of your reach.

Dealing with your unrequited feelings for the young doctor on a daily basis wasn’t always easy for you but you contended yourself with being his coworker and friend even though it hurt more than you cared to admit. In the beginning, you hoped that your feelings would go away if you just ignored them—after all, it was just a stupid little crush on your adorable and dorky new coworker. But as time went on, and you were still plagued by an eruption of butterflies in your stomach whenever Spencer smiled at you, or accidentally brushed your hand with his when handing you a pen or a cup of coffee, or just stood near you for an extended period of time, you had to admit to yourself that your feelings for him were far more serious than you anticipated at first. The thought of just confessing to Spencer had crossed your mind a lot at this point, to get it off your chest, but the possibility of him rejecting you and losing one of your best friends in the process scared you too much to actually go through with it.

And before you knew it Spencer went on a date with JJ and made out with a gorgeous blonde actress in her pool and flirted with pretty barkeepers, and that was proof enough for you that keeping your feelings to yourself was the right course of action which didn’t mean it saved you from heartbreak or feeling sorry for yourself.

You started to distract yourself with alcohol and attractive strangers between cases, collecting fleeting memories with partners who never really helped you forget the one person who was always on your mind and in your heart. You went on like this until you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror anymore, feeling disgusted and ashamed of yourself, knowing that it would only get worse but still not stopping, telling yourself it was the price you had to pay for not having to spend the nights all by yourself. It was until you drunkenly stumbled into the apartment of yet another stranger, hurriedly opening buttons and zippers, carelessly tossing clothes to the floor, giggling when the stranger’s lips connected to yours despite feeling sick to your stomach. You saw it only when the stranger moved to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck; a photo of the stranger’s family, beautiful children and an adoring partner smiling brightly for the camera, and you wondered if you would ignore this too now that you have seen it, like you ignored the noticeable mark on the stranger’s finger where a wedding ring was clearly missing.

You felt faint when you pushed against the stranger’s shoulders, almost falling over your own two feet leaving the apartment only to find yourself in a part of town you were completely unfamiliar with in the middle of the night. Not knowing what else to do, you called Morgan who picked you up sitting on the curb, looking and feeling pathetic with tearstains on your face. He simply raised his eyebrows at you and wordlessly helped you into his car before driving back to his place. There, he gently wrapped you up in a blanket and cuddled with you on his old sofa for the entire length of three feel-good chick flicks all while alternating between handing you spoons of ice cream and tissues to dry your tears, listening to you in the early hours of the morning spilling your guts to him.

Thankfully, he never talked to you about that night again and you were grateful for it; otherwise, you would probably die on the spot from all the shame and embarrassment it would trigger in you. You had still apologized for inconveniencing him like this, staring at his shoes while stumbling over your words, fingernails biting into the palm of your hands. But Derek acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about, flashing you one of his defeating handsome smiles and you knew that all was good between you two, he was still your friend and didn’t think any less of you, so you pulled him down to press a grateful kiss to his cheek.

It didn’t however save you from Derek wiggling his eyebrows at you whenever Spencer and you sat pressed shoulder to shoulder absorbed in case files or when the two of you would share headphones on the jet while returning home. You are used to it by now, simply sticking your tongue out at him or giving him the finger when Hotch and JJ aren’t looking, earning a good-natured laugh from Derek and a confused glance from Spencer, who, to your relief, never quite understands what the constant teasing between you and the older agent is about.

So yes, after seeking pointless comfort with strangers until the point you almost didn’t recognize yourself anymore, you now are at a point where you would say that generally, you are just fine with knowing that Spencer would never see you as anything other than a good friend and coworker.

But after an exhausting day working on a grueling case, having made close to zero progress on it, and having to share a hotel room and a bed with Spencer only to wake up to him holding you in his arms, you really wish the universe would give you a break one of these days so you could take the time to get over your feelings for your genius friend once and for all.

You sigh quietly, willing your racing heart and those malicious butterflies in your stomach to calm down before letting go of Spencer’s hand, trying your best to ignore the pang of disappointment. The feeling only worsens when Spencer moves away from you, carefully putting some distance between yourself and him, taking all his warmth with him and you can’t help but to curl into yourself at that.

You feel him settle on the other side of the bed, already missing his touch even as fleeting as it was, feeling wide awake and wondering how you will ever fall asleep again tonight after that—and the nights still to come.

“I’m so sorry for ambushing you like that,” Spencer’s quiet voice cuts through the silence of the room, his bashfulness palpable with every word. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t, Spence. Don’t worry.” Quite the opposite, but you keep that thought to yourself, opting for lightening the mood instead. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I mean, I had to share a bed with Emily before and I woke up to her having me in a chokehold so I prefer having you as my bedmate by a mile.”

You’re blessed with a little laugh from Spencer, your body relaxing against the unfamiliar mattress but still missing his closeness from before. You feel him shift on his side of the bed and can’t help but wonder if he too was more comfortable with holding you in his arms. But you quickly dismiss this silly thought of yours, knowing that indulging in false hopes and wishful thinking doesn’t save you from the reality that Spencer just doesn’t feel the same way as you.

“But I’m serious. You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you reiterate after a moment of silence between the two of you, slowly turning around for a more comfortable position which isn’t in the slightest related to the fact that like this you are facing Spencer now. You can’t really make out his features in the darkness of the hotel room but maybe it’s for the best. Otherwise, you probably would give into the temptation of reaching out and brushing a few unruly curls of his behind his ear, your fingers softly lingering on his face just a tad too long.

“That’s—I’m glad…” His voice is quiet, almost distant, and you wonder if he’s already drifting off to sleep again. You couldn’t blame him for that. The day the two of you had was long and wearying, coming into work just to be presented with gruesome pictures from various crime scenes, discussing the UnSub’s profile and MO while being on the jet before being introduced to police officers and grieving family members alike, getting to work without a single break on your mind. If it wasn’t for these inconvenient feelings of yours that caused your heart rate to resemble that of someone who just ran a mile, you would probably feel as exhausted as Spencer is. But in your case, sleep is currently not really something you can think about when all you want is to curl up in his arms like before, feeling warm and safe and happy until the harsh reality of the next morning catches up with you again.

“Still, I’m sorry,” Spencer then whispers into the darkness, your name leaving his lips in a soft sigh, and you frown. There’s really nothing he has to apologize for and you want to tell him as much, but he’s faster than you, his words coming out in a self-conscious rush.

“I’m sorry that you are stuck here with me. I know you’d prefer being with Morgan instead and I’m sorry that he’s being such an idiot about all of this.”

Now you really don’t know what he’s talking about. What does Derek have to do with anything? But Spencer doesn’t let you voice your thoughts, only to confuse you even more.

“I-I know you like Morgan so you were probably hoping that he would just assign this room to himself and you, and I really don’t get why he’s so set on acting like he doesn’t have feelings for you as well. I get he’s not really someone who does relationships but he’s lucky that someone special like you is in love with him so—”

“Spencer, stop—” you suddenly interrupt this agitated rambling of his, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he’s somehow convinced you have feelings for your fellow agent. “Wha-What are you talking about? I’m not in love with Derek Morgan. We’re friends, but that’s really all there is to it. What on earth makes you think that I like him like that?”

You push yourself up on your elbow in your bewilderment, the sheet that covers you and Spencer falling from your shoulders in the process. You quickly turn around, turning on the light by your bedside, not believing what nonsense you just heard. Dumbfounded, you look at the genius lying beside you, his expression confused and apologetic in return.

“I’m—sorry?” he starts while sitting up slightly so the two of you are at eye level, his voice hesitant and uncertain. “I just thought… The two of you are always together, even outside of work, on the weekends. And you have all these little private jokes with Morgan and conversations that always stop whenever someone else gets closer. And he always makes you laugh and flustered, so I just figured—you know, that you like him more than just a friend or a coworker.”

He takes a deep breath and looks away, his fingers fiddling with the hem of the stiff hotel sheet while you can only stare at him open-mouthed.

“And I figured that he’s an idiot for not realizing that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have your heart.”

The silence in the dim hotel room stretches on while Spencer pointedly avoids meeting your eyes and you continue to stare at him, your mind still trying to process that he is convinced about your feelings for Morgan when your heart only belonged to Spencer for a long time now, when you wish for nothing but to wake up in his arms like you just did every day for the rest of your life.

You reach for him and grab his face, holding him in place when he’s startled by your sudden action and the intense eye contact, his eyes widening in confusion and shock but you don’t care. You can’t. There’s a sudden need in you for him to understand how wrong he is about your alleged feelings for Morgan, to make him see the truth that was always right in front of him.

So you resolutely look into his eyes, ignoring the subtle trembling of your fingers against his soft skin and the ringing of your own heartbeat in your ears. You’ve experienced explosions going off right next to you, you’ve cornered armed serial killers and ran into possibly lethal situations without a second thought, but somehow you’ve never been as fucking sacred as you are right now. You could ruin everything you have with Spencer with what you are about to say, but you can’t keep it in any longer. You need him to know how you feel about him, how you’ve felt about him for so long now.

“Spencer Reid, you listen to me. I am not in love with Derek Morgan, I never was and I never will be. I can’t believe you’d think that when I’ve been pining for you for literal years now! It’s always been you, I need you to know that. From the moment I saw you standing next to Gideon with that stupidly adorable sweater and that awkward smile of yours, I knew I was done for. So I never want to hear you say that I have feelings for Morgan when I’m in love with you!”

Your voice is shaking throughout your little speech, but you make it to the end, intently staring into Spencer’s eyes who looks back at you with such a stupidly shocked expression that you would’ve laughed at him if not for your heart beating so wildly against your ribcage that it physically hurt.

The silence that follows your confession is oppressive and all-consuming, and you let go of Spencer’s face so he doesn’t fall victim to your nervous urge to sink your fingernails into something. Instead, they bite into the skin of your forearms as you hug your midsection, watching the young genius open and close his mouth multiple times without making a sound, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Dejectedly, you nod to yourself, already putting together a list of romantic comedies in your mind Morgan will have to endure together with you while you pathetically sob into his shoulder, tissues and ice cream keeping you company on your little coffee table in front of the TV.

You didn’t really expect it to end any differently, but it still hurt more than you anticipated. Your eyes begin to sting and you close them, stubbornly fighting the urge to cry. You have enough time for that later, preferably when you’re not sharing a room with Spencer anymore and the case is over, so you take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself before opening your eyes again.

Spencer is still looking at you with wide eyes, a noticeable blush adorning his cheeks. Any other time you would find this discovery incredibly endearing, but right now, with your heart in pieces and dangerously close to crying, it only reminds you that you can’t take your words back, that now he knows how you feel about him and that your relationship with him will never be the same again, even if the two of you stay friends.

You manage a meek smile that Spencer doesn’t return, and you wonder if his silent reaction to what you revealed to him could be a blessing in disguise after all. You want him to say something, anything, to you but at the same time you don��t know how well you and your bruised heart would handle hearing him say that he doesn’t feel the same way about you out loud.

What you do know is that you can’t stay here any longer, you need to get out of this room, out of this situation, now.

With one last look at Spencer, you avert your eyes, your voice quiet, tinged with regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper before sitting on the edge of the bed, your back now to him, only tilting your head back to speak in his direction. “I’ll ask the others if I can stay in one of their rooms for the night.”

You move to stand up and that’s what snaps Spencer out of his daze at last, hurriedly reaching for you before you can get up, much less process what is happening, one of his large hands on your arm while the other is cupping your jaw tenderly, almost hesitantly. The kiss he pulls you into then is the opposite of that. It’s urgent and desperate and completely steals your breath away, your heart leaping into your throat and your stomach lurching in confused delight. Still, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, entirely too overwhelmed to react, but when you do it’s just as urgent, just as desperate. Your teeth clank together slightly but you ignore it in favor of meeting Spencer’s tongue with your own, your head beginning to spin. You’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the lack of oxygen but you really can’t care less about that at the moment, especially not when you swallow the appreciative groan that falls from Spencer’s lips as one of your hands finds its way into his curls and pulls not all too gently on them.

The kiss only breaks when you’re certain the two of you are running out of air completely but still Spencer whines quietly at the sudden loss of contact, following your lips until the hand in his hair tugs him back. You placate him with a quick peck to his nose before concentrating on calming your heavy breathing and frantically beating heart, your forehead softly resting against his.

You don’t protest when Spencer starts to pull you closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and guide you to settle in his lap, your head now resting on his shoulder, humming in contentment at the kiss he presses to the top of your head. You don’t say anything for a while, having no need for words, not when you feel Spencer’s heart mirror the rhythm of yours as you place your hand on his chest.

You look up at him when he covers your hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand that makes your skin tingle pleasantly. His eyes swim with emotions but he doesn’t look away as you try to decipher all of them even though his blush reaches from the tip of his ears to somewhere underneath the soft shirt he wears. Your fingers itch to pull the collar of the shirt down a little, just to see how far that blush really goes when he quietly clears his throat, the bright smile on his pretty lips faltering slightly.

“I’m sorry for—for not saying anything just now. I couldn’t—I wasn’t sure you really meant what you said, I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t some sort of joke.”

You shift in his embrace, ready to repeat what you have said, to express what you feel for him until he is sick of hearing your voice, but before you can even open your mouth, he quickly steals a kiss from you, and then another one, effectively shutting you up and looking quite proud of himself too when he meets your eyes again. So you have no choice but to let him finish what he has to say like you always do, always giving him time to collect his thoughts and listening to him when he is ready to share them with you.

“But I know you would never lie to me, especially not about something like this and only then did I realize we could’ve been doing this years ago if I hadn’t been such an idiot and too blind to see what was in front of me all along because—because I’ve been in love with you for a long time now too.”

The smile that spreads on your face is so big it hurts your cheeks, radiant enough to challenge the whole sun and you have to twist your fingers into the front of Spencer’s shirt to pull him down to you so you can feel his lips on yours again. They’re soft and warm and real and when you part again the laugh that bubbles past his is like music to your ears, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You lean further into him and his arms around you tighten in response, enjoying the comfortable silence in this unfamiliar hotel room for a little while longer before gently speaking up again.

“You’re not an idiot Spencer. How could you have known when I’ve always been too scared to say anything? But now I did and we’ve finally found each other, and from now on we can make up for lost time. What do you say, my pretty boy?”

The adoration shining clearly in his brown eyes tells you everything you need to know and you move in to kiss him once more, preferably without ever stopping again, but suddenly Spencer tenses against you, making you look up at him with a quizzical look.

You can’t stop the little groan that escapes you at his next words.

“You and Morgan—did you really never—?”

As your genius worries his bottom lip between his teeth you really wish Morgan would finally stop being a part of your conversation.

“I—I believe what you’ve said, that you don’t have feelings for him,” Spencer continues, “but I’d understand if at some point, you know—because the way you are around each other—"

“Spencer. Let’s not do this again,” you have to interrupt a second time this night, but not unkindly. “Yes, even though I have feelings for you I have slept with other people, but it never meant anything to me—in fact, it just made me feel so, so horrible. And when it comes to Morgan—he and I are friends and that is all there is to it. It’s true I spend a lot of time with him, that we have a lot of little inside jokes and private conversations just for our ears, but do you want to know what the one common factor is with all of these things? It’s you, Spence.”

You emphasize your words with a kiss to his jaw, easing the tentative look he gives you by gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Most of the time I spent with Derek was just me whining about how much I wish you were mine and how unfair it is how adorable you look whatever you do and how smart and kind and pretty you are, and that you probably tried to kill me when you wore your glasses to work every day for some time. It’s honestly a miracle Morgan didn’t also develop a crush on you by sheer proximity to me, like through osmosis. He had to listen to me for years pining about you so he gets back at me for it by teasing me relentlessly about you, so I’ll have you know that all of our funny little private jokes are actually at my expense. My point is, even if Morgan would’ve wanted to start something with me—which he never did by the way—, he, and those other people too, never stood a chance because I only ever had eyes for you, Spence.”

“Oh.”

Spencer shakes his head in disbelief but he’s grinning like a fool with his cheeks and ears painted cherry red. He’s quick to hide his face in your hair, too overwhelmed by the sincerity in your voice and you think that now your genius finally, finally understands. But still, you would continue to reassure him about your feelings if his insecurities should get the better of him again, understanding that he doesn’t doubt you but that the voice in his head sometimes isn’t the kindest to him and that everything about this is very new to him.

You close your eyes, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder until you’re on the brink of falling asleep, the comfortable and content silence of the hotel room and the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest steadily lulling you to sleep. After the long day you’ve had and the excitement of this night, exhaustion has now caught up with you and if the big yawn that escapes Spencer is any indication, he is feeling its effect as well.

You’re vaguely aware of Spencer reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp before moving the both of you to lay down together, shifting and coordinating limbs until you’re both comfortable with him holding you in his arms, his hand resting softly on your stomach and your fingers interlacing with his.

You smile to yourself, knowing that from now on you’ll have the privilege of falling asleep like this every night—in the arms of your beloved genius.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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andragoras-in-vanity · 2 years

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men have such nice big hands and mine are so dainty and cold and yet no one is holding them how is this fair??

#😭😭 yes im gonna cry #i need my person so bad and it hurts every day i dont have them and i feel like my therapist isnt gonna be nice to me about this #but i really really just want my person so i can feel safe and secure and also adore them physically #i want to be close to someone and god i just love mens bodies im envious of everyone who takes them for granted #im envious of how beautiful men are and that ill never be the same and im envious of anyone who gets to enjoy them #i just want to feel captured in a mans big hands and the love that comes with it #i want to feel protected and i want to just be so wrapped up #i want a man to be with me #i want to love a man so badly

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moeitsu · 1 month

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Logan Howlett (Wolverine) Headcanons -`♡´-

This is my first time making head canons, and I wanted to keep them sweet and endearing since our boy has been through too much in his very-very long life. As someone who's read a majority of the X-Men comics, I hope you find these true to his character! Enjoy :)

(I got so carried away with this)

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Logan may not say "I love you" often, but he shows it through small, constant touches—a hand on the back, a gentle squeeze of the shoulder, or simply holding hands.

Not a fan of explicit PDA, but will always touch you/stay close in public.

Tough exterior, but when it comes to his partner, he’s an overprotective softie. He’ll insist on walking them home, even if they can take care of themselves.

He can be extremely chivalrous too, always holding open the door for you.

Expresses his love through acts of service. He’ll fix things around the house without being asked, make breakfast before his partner wakes up, or leave a steaming cup of coffee on the counter with a note.

He's always leaving you little love notes if when leaves the house before you or knows he won't be home till late.

Though he pretends to hate it, Logan is a sucker for slow dancing in the kitchen at night, especially if it’s to an old blues or country song.

Any excuse to hold you close to him.

Logan values trust more than anything. Given how many times he’s been betrayed or manipulated, knowing someone trusts him, and that he can trust them in return, is what makes him feel truly loved and secure.

When sharing a bed, Logan always sleeps closest to the door—just in case someone comes through it. It’s a subconscious protective habit.

Always gets better rest with he's sleeping with his partner. The nightmares become less frequent when he's in their arms.

Heaven on earth is when you fall asleep on top of him. Your weight is extremely comforting.

He is incredibly careful with his strength, especially in intimate moments. He’s always conscious of not hurting his partner, and his gentleness with you is something he prides himself on.

I think it would take some convincing for him to be a rough with you. He's a dominant lover for sure, but he doesn't take pleasure in harming his partner.

Logan is an old soul and loves traditional romantic gestures—writing letters, giving flowers, and going for long walks. He may not be vocal about it, but his sincerity shines through.

Actually writes really beautiful poetry but NOBODY will ever read it. The words will die with him...if he ever dies.

God, I just know he is a secret romantic. This is so canon to me.

Tends to murmur endearments in his partner’s ear when they’re alone, things like "darlin’" or "sweetheart," in a tone so low and rough it gives them goosebumps.

Heavy on whispered praises in bed, so low its like he's speaking directly into your mind.

Never, ever forgets a birthday or an anniversary. This goes for all his friends.

Logan is the person everyone goes to when they need to spill their secrets. He never judges, just listens, and gives advice when it’s needed. His friends know their secrets are safe with him.

He's secretly a huge gossip and loves to hear about the young mutants drama. He'll act annoyed but he's listening to every word.

He may not be the most social, but he’s fiercely loyal to his friends. If they’re in trouble, he’s the first to show up, no questions asked.

Incredible memory for his friends’ favorite drinks. When they meet up at a bar, he’ll have everyone’s order ready before they even sit down.

Logan knows when someone needs to talk and when they just need company. He’s the type to sit quietly beside a friend, sharing a drink or a cigar, letting them know they’re not alone.

Perfectly content with sitting in companionable silence for hours.

He’s surprisingly good at cooking, and loves to feed his friends. It’s one of the few domestic things he takes pride in, and he finds peace in the routine of it.

Never breaks a promise, no matter how small. If he says he’ll do it, whether it’s fixing something for you or showing up for a drink, he does it.

Logan brings back small souvenirs from missions for his partner, whether it's a pretty rock he found in a river bed, a flower pressed into his notebook, or a feather tucked into his jacket.

It's his way of saying "I was thinking of you while I was away"

Has a shoebox full of old polaroid's of his long-gone friends. He rarely looks at them, but keeps them to feel connected to those he's lost.

Also writes letters to his dead friends and keeps them in the box as well. It helps him process his grief.

Loves the smell and feel of old books. He can often be found in second-hand bookstores (or Xavier's library), running his fingers over the spines and flipping through the pages just to take in the scent.

Old!Logan needs reading glasses but is too stubborn to admit it. He’ll wear them when he’s alone, grumbling about how small the print is getting these days.

Has a soft spot for classic cartoons like "Looney Tunes." If he’s flipping channels and catches one, he’ll stop and watch, chuckling at the slapstick humor.

Logan is not a morning person. He’s grumpy before his first cup of coffee, and everyone knows to give him space until he’s had it.

"I CAN'T GIRLBOSS WITHOUT MY COFFEE"

He is a creature of habit, and he always orders the same meal at his favorite diners—usually steak, eggs, and a black coffee. The waitstaff know his order by heart.

Logan has a way with animals, even the ones that are usually skittish or aggressive. It’s like they sense he’s one of them, and they naturally trust him.

Modern day disney princess lookin' ass

Logan pretends to hate puns, but deep down, he finds them hilarious. If someone cracks a particularly bad one, he’ll groan, but there’s always a hint of a smile on his face.

*cough cough* I'm looking at you Wade

Ridiculously competitive at board games. Especially Monopoly and Scrabble. He’ll argue over the rules and demand a rematch if he loses.

When Logan is working on something mechanical, like fixing a motorcycle or sharpening his claws, he has a habit of whistling old tunes from the 1940s.

Guilty pleasure for musicals.

I had to put that in I'm sorry...

Has a small collection of vintage lighters from all the places he’s traveled. He likes the look and feel of a good lighter in his hand.

Keeps a collection of old dog tags from the wars he’s fought in. He doesn’t wear them but keeps them as a reminder.

Also has a small but growing collection of "World’s Best" mugs—like "World’s Best Dad," "World’s Best Boss," etc. He picks them up when traveling.

He likes the irony of it, because he would never describe himself as the "World's Best" of anything.

Logan loves the sound of old vinyl records. He has a small collection of blues, jazz, and country albums that he listens to when he wants to unwind.

Secretly believes in superstitions. Like always knocking on wood or avoiding walking under ladders. He knows it’s irrational, but after living as long as he has, he figures it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Hopeless with modern technology. He’s constantly asking for help with his phone, and he’s convinced that A.I. is out to get him.

He’s also been known to tap the screen harder when it doesn’t work, as if that will fix the problem.

Despite everything he’s been through, Logan believes in giving people a second chance. He knows what it’s like to be lost, to make mistakes, and to want to start over. He’s patient with those who are trying to better themselves and is willing to help them find their way.

Logan is a natural born leader.

And he deserves a life full of peace, love, and happiness

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk!!

#james logan howlett #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #hugh jackman #logan howlett headcanon #logan xmen #xmen comics #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #marvel #deadpool

743 notes · View notes

theautisticwriter · 7 months

Text

Love Letters: Yandere! Hazbin Hotel characters X G/N Reader

Characters- Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir Pentious, Lucifer Morningstar, Vox

Show- Hazbin Hotel

Genre- yandere, romantic

Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!

Warnings- yandere themes, swearing, stalking, virtual stalking, threats, unwanted attention, delusional characters, mentions of planned kidnapping, pet names

Word count- 1.7k

Extra notes- Alastor’s part is platonic, he’s platonically in love with you!

key: n/n = nickname, y/n = your name, g/n = gender neutral

———————————————————

Hi N/n!

Oh my gosh, it’s been so long since i’ve sent you a letter! I’m so sorry! The hotel has been sooooooooo busy! But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you, how could I? You’re all I think about!

I’m excited to tell you i’ve been decorating your room at the hotel! Of course, when you come here you can redecorate if you wish to! Whatever makes you the happiest sweetie! Or, you could even share my room!

I can’t wait to come get you, I really do think you’ll like it here. We’ve all worked so hard to make this place as welcoming as possible, and you’ll warm up to the other residents and staff after a little bit of time! They can be a bit much at the beginning, but don’t worry your pretty little head, I wouldn’t put you in danger. The hotel is super safe, especially now that my dad is helping too!

Please write back, at least once? You haven’t responded to any of my letters, and Razzle told me you kept throwing them out ☹. Unless you use your trash can as extra storage, I’m not sure why all my letters keep ending up there!

Nevertheless, I’ll retrieve all the letters when you move in, and we can look through them together and reminisce about our adorable beginnings.

Yours truly,

Charlie Morningstar!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ

——————————��————————

Dear Y/n,

I understand that these letters started to freak you out, and that’s why I haven’t sent any in a while, but I felt like I needed to continue writing to you. It’s our only way of communication right now, so until you move into the hotel, this will have to do.

It’s hard to write down my feelings for you, I can’t ever seem to find the right words which must be why you didn’t understand that these are love letters. I’m not some creepy guy trying to kidnap you, I love you and want to finally bring you home as soon as possible.

Charlie is still working out the details of your stay, but she’ll be finished soon, I promise. Would you like your own room or to share mine? If you write back, we could discuss your personal preference towards the rooming situation?

You’ll get used to this, to us, soon enough. I have no ill intent towards you, I’m the only person in this shithole that actually cares about you and your safety. I can keep you safe, I can, I will.

I’ll see you soon, y/n.

Stay safe,

Vaggie

———————————————————

Salutations, Dearest!

Aren’t letters just marvellous? Texting and calling is merely a phase, the “old fashioned way” as sinners call it, is the only correct way. It shows effort, thought and has a charm to it that this technology nonsense lacks immensely.

You’ll be with me soon, and once you are we’ll get rid of all your electronic devices. Radio will be enough to keep you entertained, I assure you my dear. It would be such a treat if you tuned into one of my broadcasts, since you are the only viewer I wish to listen. You could listen to me, whilst I watch you, how splendid!

As much as this hazbin hotel is doomed to fail, I do believe it is a safe residency for us to stay at for the time being. Your current accommodation is far too lacking in the security department, from personal experience, I can confirm it is quite easy to get inside. Of course, I can get anywhere you are no matter what you or anyone else tries to do, but I didn’t even have to try! That’s no good, now is it?

Don’t fret, my dear. All will be well once you’re under my official protection and guidance. Nothing will get in our way, you have my word.

The radio demon,

A̰̠̼͚̗̫̳ͥ͐̆̃̄͑̊̈̕͝l̳̤̲͗͆ą̺̝̺͚̔̔̄ş̴̠͓̞̹̀͋ͯ̀ͣͫ_̧̩t̺͈ͩ̎͒͒ͅơ̵̢̧̫͇̦̫͇̟̰̯̞̝̻͇͍̯̩͕̌ͪ̀͋ͧ͗̏ͥͥ̇ͦͯ͗̀ͫ̏̽̈̚͡͞r

———————————————————

Hey, n/n!

You deleted all your socials, what gives?? You’re making me write letters now? I mean, i’m not against letters, they’re real romantic and shit, but dming you was so much easier babe. Was some fucker harassing you? I’ll torture the shit out of them, just give me a name toots.

Anyways, it’s not like it really matters, letters and texting, we’ll be SPEAKING in person pretty soon ;) I can’t wait to see that gorgeous face right in front of my (equally gorgeous) face. This face makes money baby, money that I can drown you in. Whatever you want, i’ve got you covered. Isn’t that exciting? Something to look forward to for you, besides living with me, which is a huge upgrade from your shitty house right now

Fat nuggets (our pet pig btw) can’t wait to meet you! He’s real cuddly, as am I, so don’t ever worry about feeling lonely with us here. Our room is filled with soft fluffy crap, all yours for the taking!

I’ll see you soon cutie,

Your Angel Dust 𓆩♡𓆪

———————————————————

To Y/n,

This is a fucking hassle, writing letters, you know that? You need to quit whining and come down to this shitty hotel before I come bring you here myself. It’s not so bad here, once you get used to it. And the people are fucking annoying, but they mean well. Unlike those dicks you hang around with, I don’t trust them, and trust me, I can spot a prick with my eyes closed.

I’ve rented you a room in the hotel, next door to mine. I paid with my own fucking money, which I earned at this stupid bar, so be grateful. I could of bought a lot of booze with that cash, but I saved it up for you. Niffty cleaned it real nice for you, so stop taking so long. You have two more days before I start moving your shit.

Hate me all you want, it’s for your own good. People don’t often realise what they need, but I’m a bartender, I know people more than they think. And I know you more than anyone else.

Two days, y/n.

Regards,

Husker 𑁤

———————————————————

Hihi!!!!!!!!

It’s Niffty! You know that though, right? Nobody else is sending you letters right y/n??!?!! Tell me they aren’t, tell me i’m the only girl in hell who’s sending you love letters!! Alastor said it’s the most romantic thing to do for someone sweet like you, so if anyone else is that means they like you! >:(((

I like you n/n! I like you more than anyone else does, I pinky swear it!!

Your house needs a clean, I came in last night through your window and did your kitchen real good, but then you woke up and I had to go :(( Your room at the hotel is sooo super clean, because I clean it every 3 hours to make sure there’s no bugs. I eat them for you, don’t worry n/n.

It’s gonna be sooo fun when you move in with me, we’re gonna do so much together! I’ve made you a crown too!!

Niffty :DDD

P.S, I hope you like the ant I stuck to the envelope, I picked him just for you!

———————————————————

My beloved Y/n,

It has been far too long since we last corresponded, my sincerest apologises. How are you? I hope the answer is well, but how could you be without your prince beside you? I am restless without you as i’m sure you are without me. I’ll fix this little problem, not to worry! I am worthy of your affections, I’ll prove it to you til the end of my afterlife. Which is infinite! Because I am very brave, and incredibly powerful!

My attempts to join the overlords are not going as planned, but once again, do not fear my love! In a few years we shall rule side by side! My minions are excited to meet you, they will guard you with their pathetic little lives and answer your every call! Unless you asked to leave, they won’t let you do that, but you wouldn’t ask that! You’ll be happy with me, right?

Right?

Please I needyouineedyouineedyou

Haha, ignore that scribble! The eggs pushed my arm whilst I was writing.

I’ll see you soon my dearest,

Yours forever,

Sir Pentious (your future husband and future overlord)

———————————————————

My Y/n,

How are you doing sweetheart? I’m doing great, yes, totally, I’m always great! I’m the king of hell! What’s there to be depressed about? Everything Nothing at all, everything’s perfect my end! It would be much better with you by my side however, what do you think? I think so.

I can give you anything you want, do anything you want, be anything you want! I can give you everything, and you can give me, well, you! Your hand in unholy marriage, your smile. Anything you want to give me, I’ll adore.

Sorry, that’s awfully sappy isn’t it? Do you like that sort of thing? I hope so, I hope you’re feeling valued by my words and my letters. I haven’t gotten one back yet, which is totally okay! You’re probables super busy, and that’s okay! You can tell me everything you want to when I bring you to my palace (that’s where we will live, it’s big, and very expensive, i’m rich by the way)

Anywho, my daughter needs my help today at her little hotel, so I’ll send this to you before I go. Charlie will love you, and you’ll love her. And me

Forever and always yours,

Lucifer (I’m a king by the way :P)

———————————————————

N/n,

This letter in itself is a sign of how much I care about you, because I do not write letters to people. Throwing out all your electronics and the cameras I put in your house hasn’t helped your little rebellion. I’ll just have to get you sooner than planned, which isn’t a problem for me. I was hoping to court you for longer, but you’ve pressed my buttons sweetheart.

You were very thorougher with your search for all the tech in your house, you got everything. Which i’ll give you credit babe, is impressive considering how much I put in there. Who knew you were so smart? It’s almost cute, if it wasn’t so hopeless.

I’m not sorry for what’s to come, my methods aren’t moral but, hey, who the fuck is moral down here? I am sorry for the emotional distress you’ll endure, but it must be done. You’ll get over it, i’ll make sure of it.

By the time this reaches you, I’ll be outside. Make sure you answer the door for me, kay?

𝕍𝕠𝕩

———————————————————

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lavenderchqn · 21 days

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"TO PRACTICE FREEDOM"

synopsis — You're the biggest scaredy cat living amongst the people of Scions of Canopy. You try to get over your fear of heights... by trying out bungee jumping under the watchful eye of your partner. Let's just say... it doesn't go according to plan. pairing — kinich x gn!reader warnings — near death experience (falling from heights), minor character death, spoiler warnings for kinich's story and voicelines, ajaw is a lore accurate menace notes — I've had an idea for this as soon as we learned that Kinich has interest in extreme sports... reading his story felt weird (the longer I am in genshin fandom, the more stuff I predict right...)

The People of Huitztlan believe in the concept of absolute freedom. That’s why so many youngsters throw themselves into dangerous sports with a lack of safeguard measures. Perhaps having nothing securing a person allows them to experience said freedom.

To practice death is to practice freedom, after all.

“We’re here,” Kinich says, looking in your direction. He has held your hand ever since you started your trek up the higher regions of the Coatepec Mountain. “Do you want to take a break?”

“Y-Yeah… I need to… sit.” You slowly get down with the help of Kinich. Only after he signalises being opposite of you, do your eyes open.

Kinich has taken a sit too, still holding onto your hand. He’s slowly rubbing circles trying to ground you as best as possible.

Well… here you are — the biggest scaredy cat, who decided to try and work on your fear of heights by trying out bungee jumping. It’s quite ironic really. Not only are you a resident of Scions of the Canopy, which literally is suspended off the cliffs, but also in a relationship with a guy, whose second name could be ‘extreme sports’.

To say your mind felt pressure to get over it would be quite an understatement.

“We can still get down. Just say the word.” Kinich says, keeping his eyesight directly on you. Even if you had asked him to help you with your fears, he’d never force you to do so. Sure, it’d be pretty cool to share interests with a partner, but it should never come at the cost of their mental health.

You shake your head. You have to try. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think? Kinich will do everything in his power to keep you safe.

“I can do this.” You answer, taking a deep breath.

“Well then, chop chop SLOWPOKE!” Ajaw zooms right near your face, spooking you to bits. “Stop wasting MY precious time!”

“Just how loud can you be…” Kinich sighs, getting up to shoo Ajaw away. “Tone it down a notch, will you?”

The tiny saurian starts arguing with your partner, although you can easily tell it’s one-sided. No matter how much he would try, the most he could bring out of Kinich were insulting comebacks. Ajaw could try and rage the male in multiple ways… and yet, unfortunately for the dragon, your partner was too resilient to die from anger.

In the meantime of their dissing match, you slowly get up on your legs. Ajaw is right… You don’t want to waste Kinich’s time because you’re scared and worried. He takes notice of your sudden movement, once again getting close to you.

“Do you want to try now?” He asks, holding his hand out. These are obvious signs, that he will lead you step by step.

“Yeah… I think I’m ready.”

“Alright. Hold still. I’m going to put the climbing belt on you now.”

As he says, he does. Kinich does it slowly, explaining his movement every step of the way. You’re aware, he’s doing it to ease your mind… and it’s working well. In the blink of an eye, the sound of a snap-hook getting attached brings you back from a short daydreaming session.

“All done.” He takes another look at you, checking if the equipment is snug against your body while making sure it isn’t digging into your skin. “Can you move for me?”

“Yeah, sure!” You do a slow spin, followed by kneeling on one foot. “Although I can feel the harness… it’s not uncomfortable.”

“That's good.”

Once again, it’s another series of your partner explaining the next steps. All you need to do is find a point to connect your line to. He already connected the rope to your belt. The other end is currently sitting tightly in his hand.

“You’re not going to hold me when I jump?” You ask, growing worried.

“I know you’d feel more comfortable with me doing that,” Kinich starts answering, his eyes wandering for an anchor. “I don’t want to also fall down the second you jump.”

He even explains the physics behind it, ending his speech by saying it’s best you move further to look for a good place to jump from.

You’re walking next to Kinich, admiring the scenery. With the rope in his hands, you’re feeling much more comfortable. Although he’s trying to talk here and there… his eyes are still locked on finding a stable anchor.

Unfortunately for the both of you, an anchor is nowhere near. Curse you lunatics with no regard for their safety.

“So many jumping platforms, and yet not a singular anchor?” He questions, closing his eyes.

All of a sudden your eyes land on a ruffed pheasant that just landed on one of the platforms. You’ve never seen one so close! Without thinking about your safety, you start inching closer towards the bird.

Your steps are slow and cautious. The bird, a magnificent creature with iridescent plumage, seems utterly unaware of your presence. Its feathers shimmer in the sunlight, creating a mesmerising display of greens and oranges. An odd sense of calm wash over you, momentarily forgetting the anxiety that’s been gnawing at your insides.

"Careful," Kinich warns, his voice seeming distant as if muffled by the pounding of your heart.

The platform beneath your feet is uneven, its surface worn smooth by the countless jumps of those, who came before you. With no warning, Ajaw jumps from behind your shoulder, screaming right next to your ear. The bird, startled, flies away. You try to also get away when your foot catches on one of the loose boards. The world tilts violently, and suddenly, you're weightless.

A scream tears from your throat as you plummet downwards, the wind rushing past your ears, drowning out all other sounds. The landscape blurs into a mix of greens and browns, the ground below rushing up to meet you at an alarming speed. For a split second, your mind goes blank — pure terror seizing every thought, every instinct. You’re going to fall to your death.

Back on the hill, Kinich’s body goes numb for a second. He’s seen this happen once before. He cannot allow it to happen again. You’re not his drunkard gambling mess of a father, and he’s not his seven-year-old self. Kinich will save you, even if it’s the last thing he ever does.

The blood is pounding in his ears when he shifts all his weight to his legs. Only when he cannot feel any force trying to get him off the cliff, does he start pulling up. With a sharp tug, he jerks you backwards, the rope connected to the harness snapping taut. The force of the pull knocks the air out of your lungs, but it stops your descent abruptly. You swing wildly in the air, the ground still far below, the rope swaying and creaking with the strain of holding your weight.

Above, you can hear Kinich shouting your name, his voice frantic, barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeat. You cling to the rope, your hands shaking uncontrollably as the realisation of what just happened crashes over you. You almost fell to your death.

"Hold on!" Kinich yells, his voice breaking through the fog of panic in your mind. "I’ve got you, just hold on for me!"

Tears sting your eyes as you try to steady your breathing, every muscle in your body tensed and trembling. The rope holds firm, and slowly, agonisingly slowly, Kinich begins to pull you back up. Each inch feels like an eternity, but his strength and determination never waver.

As soon as your body reaches the ledge, Kinich grabs onto you, pulling you up with a force that nearly knocks you both off balance. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you collapse against him, shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice unusually tight with emotion. "I should have been more careful. I should have—"

You shake your head, unable to speak, still trying to process the fact that you're alive, that you're safe. Kinich's arms tighten around you, his hand cradling the back of your head as if to shield you from any further harm.

"You're okay," he murmurs, repeating it like a mantra. "You're okay, and I'm here. I'm right here."

For a long moment, you stay there, clinging to him as the fear slowly ebbs away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming sense of relief. The world around you, once a blur of panic and chaos, begins to settle back into focus. The mountains, the sky, the distant sound of birds—all of it feels surreal as if you’ve been given a second chance to experience it. In your state, you don’t notice the glare Kinich is giving to his companion.

If looks could kill, Ajaw would be dead.

After a while of sitting idly, Kinich pulls back slightly, enough to look into your eyes. His face is pale, his expression filled with concern, but there's also a deep, unspoken resolve in his gaze. It’s quite different considering the death stare he was giving the saurian just a second ago.

"We’re done here," he says gently but firmly. "No more extreme sports for today. We are getting you home.”

You nod, still too shaken to argue. As he helps you back onto solid ground, you realise how much you’ve relied on him, not just for safety, but for the courage to face your fears. And even though the experience was terrifying, there’s a small part of you that’s glad you tried, that you didn’t let fear win entirely. You can clearly say, you did indeed practice freedom today.

In a moment you’re seated on his back, Kinich deciding you’ve had enough walking for today. He’s in absolute control now — and he’s picking the safest route possible.

“Oh and Ajaw,” Kinich’s voice is laced with coldness. “Don’t think you’re getting away with the stunt you pulled today.”

"WHAT?!"

date of posting — september 5th 2024

#lavv.writes #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin oneshots #genshin fanfic #kinich x reader #kinich x you

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vrystalius · 1 month

Text

💕 The Love Languages of Hashira

How the hashira express their love for you!

Here’s part 2 with Giyu, Obanai, Mitsuri and Shinobu.

Here’s my masterlist. My requests are open <3

Author’s Note: I didn’t use any gender specific pronouns, or at least tried to. This is my very first thingy I posted on here, so please tell me your opinion on this piece! Correct me on grammatical and spelling errors, english is not my first language. Anyways, enjoy! <3

Note: Tysm for over 100 notes!!

Pairing: Sanemi, Gyomei, Kyojuro, Tengen x gn!reader

💚Sanemi Shinazugawa 💚

Acts of service (Intensity: 6/10)

Sanemi isn’t very good with words, often coming off as rude and cold, even if he tries to be nice. He just has this talent to come off as an asshole. His intimidating appearance is not helping it.

So instead of relying on his words to express his love and affection for you, he would much rather do acts of service, even if they are small. Sanemi helps you undress after a long day, his movement slow and gentle as if you’re the most fragile thing that ever grazed his touch, folding your clothes and putting them aside to wash later. He massages your shoulders, his large palms hitting all the right spots and making the knots disappear. He cooks for you, having picked up a recipe or two from his mother, who taught him back then when Sanemi had to cook for his siblings with whatever they had. The meals he makes are personal comfort dishes and he likes sharing them with you.

Physical affection (Intensity: 8/10)

Something Sanemi just loves to do after a long night his duties is to just melt in your arms. Sanemi is a very light sleeper, waking up because of everything and any sound, but something that makes him feel more secure is to sleep in your arms. The warmth of your skin makes him feel safe and comforted, feel loved and wanted, some sort of save haven. Somewhere he can always return to.

But Sanemi also shows his affections during the day, may it be some quiet handholding or holding you by your waist, reminding himself that you are right here, with him. Hugs are a little difficult for him though, he just doesn’t really know what to do. Sanemi stiffens up immediately when you hug him, especially out of nowhere.

Quality time (Intensity: 10/10)

(I’m going to keep this part short since it was already kind of in the two above)

If he could, Sanemi would spend all of his time in the day and night with you. Doesn’t matter what you two are doing, he just wants to be close to you and soak in your presence. He likes it when you watch him train though, that’s when he gets to show off all his muscles and skill, making you laugh and perhaps even jokingly squeeze his bicep.

“Y’know, I can make us some ohagi after this. I-If ya want.”

🤎 Gyomei Himejima 🤎

Physical affection (Intensity: 9/10)

As a blind man, Gyomei relies on his other senses to guide him. His favourite way to express his affection also is influenced by that. Since he can’t stare at you for hours a day, even if he’d love to, he’ll simply hold you close for hours as compensation. Since Gyomei is much larger than you, he loves to cuddle you close against his chest. His favourite thing is to caress your back while you listen to his calm heartbeat.

During the day Gyomei likes having his large palm on your body. For example on your shoulder to show his support and comfort, or on your waist so he can take a walk with you while staying close, or just gentle, but big bear hugs.

Words of affirmation (Intensity: 7/10)

Gyomei likes having long conversations with you during breaks of his training or after a long night fighting demons. He enjoys listening to you talk about your day and tell him all about the things you have done, no matter how boring or unimportant it seemed to you. Gyomei would sit there in silence, rubbing his palms together in his usual gesture and listen with a soft smile on his face.

What Gyomei loves to do as well is to compliment you. He can’t really say anything about your appearance, not that he cares, so his compliments are always different and even a little creative. From complimenting how you smell, to the way how comforting your footsteps sound.

“Ah, my light, it’s you. Sit, I have just finished my daily training. We can talk a little.”

❤️‍🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku ❤️‍🔥

Receiving gifts (intensity: 6/10)

To say that Kyojuro loves your cooking is an understatement. This man will compliment your cooking in every way possible, no matter if you dish him the most exquisite five star high grade wagyu or plate him one of Tengen’s Muscle Mice with a sprinkle of salt. Whatever it is, he will eat it and he will thank you for it (loudly).

Kyojuro loves it when you give Senjuro gifts too, it makes him feel warm inside when he sees his little brother happy and taken care of.

He also adores it when you buy him things that remind you of him. For example, a yukata with a flame pattern, or buy him a batch of sweet potatoes that he will inhale in a span of two days maximum.

Words of affirmation (intensity: 10/10)

Kyojuro lives and breathes to praise you on everything you do. He adores you and isn’t shy to express it, even in front of the other hashira (even though Sanemi gives him a glare every time he does it).

He praises you on everything you do. How you’re dressed, your hair, your face, your voice… the list goes on and on.

But when it’s dark out and you two are in bed, he whispers his sweeting nothings and compliments into your ear while holding you close to his body.

Physical affection (intensity: 8/10)

Kyojuro’s body is a heater, wich is gruelling in the summer but a blessing in the winter. He wraps you into his arms, holding you close to his warm chest, caressing your back with his calloused palm and planting soft kisses on your cheek, forehead and lips. His body warmth is enough for the two of you, so blankets are not really needed.

Kyojuro is a cuddlebug, so cuddling in the summer is also a must, even though the sheets ans bodies will be soaked and dripping in the morning. You will be sweating, and Kyojuro will somehow find a way to compliment the smell of your sweat.

“My dearest flame! I just bought you s matching kimono. Now the yukata you bought and your new kimono can match! It will suit you and your body perfectly!”

🩷 Tengen Uzui 🩷

Quality time (intensity: 9/10)

Tengen adores spending time with all three of his wives, even more when it’s time at home, just chilling. Tengen could be just having your head on his lap, braiding your hair while you gossip with Makio, Hinatsuru and Suma. Tengen of course chimes in when it gets juicy.

Sometimes you visit the hotsprings all together. Tengen uses this opportunity to flex his muscles and show off, but you and the other three just giggle quietly at his embarrassing tan marks. Even though Tengen doesn’t enjoy being laughed at, he enjoys the time he spends with you and Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma.

Words of affirmation (intensity: 7/10)

Tengen loves to get complimented on his flamboyantness and flashiness, but he loves complimenting you as well. He calls you flashy, beautiful, flamboyant, adorable and more. He’s not very creative with his words, but at least he’s expressing his love!

“Well, I have to say that you three look VERY flamboyant tonight!”

“Can you call us ANYTHING but flamboyant for once?!”

“Well, we do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, but he can change them up every once in a while!”

💠

Thank you for reading my first piece of work! I was really nervous while writing and posting it, so some things may feel a little off. Sorry about that! And of course, I want to credit my cat as a co-author on this fic.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

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teaboot · 2 months

Note

if ur a murderbot nerd now do u have any fun opinions abt it yet?

Oh my goddd you have no idea

I really, really, really like Murderbot because it comes at life with this perspective we don't often see that is very real among people who have already been through traumatic experiences, who developed skills and abilities to suvive that were once useful but no longer have context- that search that traumatized people go through to recalibrate and reorient ourselves in a world where we no longer really need those things to survive.

A bit personal here, but my own issues personally involved a lot of psychological abuse that made it difficult to trust my own perceptions of reality, and as a result I found I was very easy to lie to and manipulate.

To handle this, I became obsessive over writing things down, cataloging details and making notes of things as they happened- I'd carry recording devices and make audio recordings and stay up late at night to transcribe what they'd picked up, read those over and over again to reassure myself of things I wasn't certain about.

While doing this, there were others close to me that I felt responsible for, who I had to protect from others and protect myself from at the same time. Life was about two things: Evidence, and defusing threats

Over time, I learned to trust myself as my memories matched what had been recorded where their narrative didn't, but I never really kicked the habit. Like Murderbot, I had added something to my own programming that reassured me I was safe, that I was in control of myself, that I couldn't be mistaken or crazy or broken or used.

I'm only on book two, but already I see myself in Murderbot again. No spoilers here, but when I left home- left that dangerous context- I didn't need to repeat these patterns to survive anymore, but I still did, because I didn't know anything else anymore. It felt safe, comfortable, knowing knowing that the past couldn't repeat itself, because I'd written that flaw- blind trust in myself- out of my programming and replaced it with something else.

Still, though, I'd become something specially suited to thrive in a very specific environment. Nothing else felt right like followinghigh-risk situations, like witnessing and watching and recording and knowing I had proof of the truth where others might not.

People took notice. I wound up in security by accident, but's an environment that I thrive in due to the same patterns and behaviours I originally developed when I had no other choice. I climbed the ladder pretty quickly, once supervisors caught on that my reports were the most accurate, most objective, most factual, detail-oriented and timely. I keep others and myself safe and prioritize public safety above all else, and I perform well under pressure

Now I'm in a position where I often wonder, do I enjoy this job, or is it just what I'm good at? I have a set of skills now, but do I have the option of choosing not to use them? What would I be, if not this? Could I be anything else? Can Murderbot be anything else?

It has a set of skills that set it apart, make it different, special. It does what it knows best. But is it free? Does it want to be? What does it want? Does it have to do what it was built to do? What if it didn't?

I know what I'm good for. The idea of deliberately leaving what I'm good for for something uncertain, that I might hate, that I might be useless at- the choice to give up what was so important to me for so long and become deliberately obsolete?

Let go of my entire purpose? The only thing I know, that I fit so well into but don't actually know if I enjoy? Now that I can choose? Now that enjoyment is a luxury I can afford to consider?

Yeah, that resonates.

I like the Murderbot series so far because it feels the way I feel: Like the most significant and formative part of my story, the part where I became what I am, has already happened

And now I have to just. Keep going

Into... what?

It feels absurd. Like a microwave giving up on reheating food and deciding to start a life around abstract dance.

So, uh. Yeah. It's really very wild to see this same philosophical-ish dilemma I've been digging over in the back of my mind and in therapy for the last forever laid out so plainly in a genuinely exciting and enjoyable story like this. I feel much less alone, and I... kind of really need to see how it resolves, I think.

So, uh. Yeah. Read Murderbot, I guess

#Murderbot #Please read murderbot #Also it's so naturally refreshing and funny #Oversharing #I guess #This is fine to reblog tho it's chill #Very much resonating with the othering sense of purpose #Like what do you mean dream job #I don't have to worry about that this is what I was made for #Or close enough to it #I don't have to worry about finding purpose #But also thinking about that kinda blanks me out #No you don't get it I'm not a person like you are I have to do what I was built for #I'm better than you at it anyway #And don't I have a responsibility to do what I'm best at since you can't #Idk #Wouldn't you be upset if your blender stopped blending and became an EZ bake oven #Like you already have an oven #You need a blender #And I'm the best blender there is #Long post #Lol #Sorry #Oh also I'm autistic and asexual and hgenderqueer so *fart noise*

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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months

Text

I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN YOU CAN'T KEEP WARM | ODXNY

✮ tags ; heavy themes, gender neutral reader, mentions of past suicidal ideation, getting together, romantic tension, angst to fluff, extremely lovey-dovey ending, some implicit and suggestive content (lit one paragraph n non descript), themes of touch starvation, small height difference (reader is shorter)

✮ wc ; 6.3k (this is so shameful bye forever)

✮ a/n ; every time a semester ends i lose my mind and me writing this in several hours straight is evidence. if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a character study with the central theme of loneliness, i'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

i will spare you the insane rambling for the authors note at the bottom of this fic.

✮ synopsis ; he wants something. to live maybe. and if he could be a little selfish, to be with you. he wants that, too.

Bright.

Could just be the dark room he keeps himself in talking. His computer system and encrypted Internet browsers are all in dark mode - and his desktop set-up doesn’t have any L.E.D. strip lights to keep him company. He prefers it that way, the ambiance a better environment to work in when he’s doing his usual rounds. Down to the programs U.I. - Odxny spends most of his time in perpetual darkness. Cozy and familiar - totally safe and secure. Nothing but the low whirrs of a computers fan and the faint blinking of routers to keep him company.

You’re the brightest thing he’s had on his screen in a long time. You’ve got white walls and no precaution, really. You’re sitting at your own desktop - and he can see everything of your life in the background of where you sit. There are photos of you graduating high school, being around unnamed friends, vacations and trips, and head shots like the kind you take for a resume. It’s all so personal. Bookshelves, trinkets, poorly made clay sculptures. Posters of musicians you like and Studio Ghibli movies. Evidence of life surrounds you like a halo.

Awful. Angel comparisons to someone he’s only known for a day make him wonder if he’s more pathetic than he thought. He probably shouldn’t think so hard about a stranger, a real stranger. Thrim generated randomly, though he thinks it sounds like a name. Finds it fun to say, for better or worse.

Natural light pours in from a window nearby, casting shadows in your room. He already knows you, in a way. He did the background search. Where you were born, raised, grew up. The schools you went too, the career you seek. Bits and pieces of you are all scattered in his memory and are not at all thorough. He wasn’t really trying for that at the time, just needed to know if you were dangerous. There’s a cognitive dissonance. To know a life so thoroughly and to witness it is completely, and utterly different.

There’s miles between you. Must be thousands. He can’t remember the last time he’s really met someone, though. It’s hard not to notice that this feels akin to that. Like the embers of a campfire, glowing but not burning. A comfortable warmth.

Bright. His screen is very bright talking to you. Even obscured behind the mask, it’s a little difficult to look at it and leaves him on edge - restless and mildly painful.

When his vision adjusts though, there’s clarity. A person, a stranger - with an exceptionally nice laugh and who is exceptionally trusting. Odxny tries not to think too hard about the feeling of warmth that flutters at your overflowing sincerity.

The conversation is easy.

“Does that mean you trust me now?”

Odxny pretends to think on it. “Enough to keep you around.”

“See you later.”

“See you.”

You accompany your last words with a wave - short and sweet. Darkness pulls him in, back where he started. He has a mild headache from all the light.

You pick up on the language better than he thought you would.

He underestimated you. Can you blame him? Your choice is language is ArnoldC, for fucksake. Sure, he has limited knowledge on esoteric languages but can it really be in-depth enough to show you the basics.

(It can. Or at least, Od presumes this to be the case because you’re rather helpful in Incri’s hacks and Incri is hardly helpful to anyone in the world, no less the server.)

You pick up on things quickly with little guidance - always to the point and not usually making many errors. He has to commend your abilities and give you credit where it’s due. It’s not a hard language to learn, but for anyone with no familiarity with coding at all he’d expect there to be a learning curve. Even if you had coding language, it’s not like you knew SQL coming in.

You fit strangely well into the server somehow. You’re happy to learn and nonplussed about helping with small things, though you don’t know these people at all and have no reason to participate in their nonsense. You talk to Incri fine, and manage to get Pep to accidentally reveal telling information. Odxny finds all of this rather… entertaining maybe. More than impressive, really.

He has a hard time making sense of the feeling. He would hope you don’t think you’re under duress - given the fact your relationship in two days has been pleasant. Then again - maybe he’s missed some social cue and you do think that. It’s possible. After all, he doesn’t actually remember the last time he’s spoken verbally to anyone with very, very few exceptions.

He manages to call you again after the fact - opens the call with sincere and heartfelt congrats and feels pleasant seeing you take the compliment in stride.

You land on the subject of programming again, inevitably. He interrogates you a little more over your choice in language - almost like he can’t help himself. It’s basic curiosity. You had said you were the best in ArnoldC. A little research proved that to be true, presence of you in the forums of various esolang pages. He landed on many things. You’re the best at ArnoldC, but you also know Brainfuck for some ridiculous reason.

He thinks you’re a little ridiculous in general.

“It’s really for the love of the game, huh?”

You nod when he asks this. Smiling, bright and unbothered with a soft edge of smug pride that makes the muscles of his face twitch up. “Mhm. I like my little collection.

Odxny doesn’t doubt it for even a minute. He’s seen the proof, but perhaps he doesn’t need to mention that. “Your trophy case of ridiculous language?”

Your eyes come to life all of a sudden. “Wait. A real trophy case would actually be so cool.”

He pauses, blinking as the words sink before a smile breaks onto his face helplessly. “That was not to enable you.”

“Too late. I’m already looking up the ugliest wood trim display cases I can find.”

The laugh comes naturally. “You really are just like this?”

You look proud again. “What? Fun?”

Yes, Odxny thinks but doesn’t say. “Baffling.”

You ask Odxny to elaborate and he does. The conversation flows with frustrating ease. So easily that he mouths off about his plans to you without a second thought. He doesn’t know why he does it. Not really. He’s thought it through over and over - so it’s not like he needs to disclose it. He made his choice.

He thinks about moving it along. About ending the call or simply brushing past without going into any detail.

When he glances at the screen, you’ve got a pillow in your lap and your eyes completely focused on him. There’s that feeling again, alarming clarity in your gaze and brightness that causes him immense unease in the world he’s made of nihilistic, apathetic darkness. There’s a plan, always has been. He’ll do this and disappear and the world will soon forget him. If it happens that way, than at least this loneliness is a choice he’s made for himself and not something the world has cruelly decided for him.

His lips move faster than his head, than even his heart. Compelled by a nameless and brilliant force. “I don’t have any reason to stay. I’m just — tired. Of everything.”

“No reasons? Nothing makes you happy here?”

His response is measured. Quiet. It’s not secret. He finds his voice crumbles around the words anyway as if they’re a confession. “Not for a long time. I don’t feel much of anything, really. It is what it is.”

You frown. He’s seen it all before. Heard it all before. “That’s…”

He cuts you off quickly.

“We just met. And we’ll be strangers again soon enough.” He says with as much conviction and resolve as he can possible manage. Who he’s convincing remains unclear. “So, not to be cold but..you know.”

The disappointment in your face leaves an impression, but you relent. He tries to make amends for the depressing conversation of talking again and you perk up so genuinely it makes want to cry, in a distant and foreign way.

“Catch you later, then.” He says, and closes at out the call. The room falls dark for the second time. He blinks a few times to get rid of the light clouding his vision.

Wnpep is eager to teach you on the third day.

You’re eager in reply - matching energy with sharp wit and enthusiasm. Wnepep is a better teacher than Incri by several miles. Evident in how much faster everything falls into place for you. Not that you really need too much help in the first place. You break down the crumbling walls of an insurance scam with ease and come out of the other side more accomplished.

It’s a noble last hack, Odxny thinks. Not unsurprising from Pep - unofficially the most sane and likeable member. He figured it’d be something like this less than a matter of personal vengeance.

You go back and forth for a bit in admin chat. Od types an apology about winding you up and tries not to read too much into the innuendo of it as you reply back with your own faux offended replies. He insists he’s somewhat sorry, and you’re far from believing him.

He finds himself grinning at his screen while he texts you mid conversation. When the realization hits, he almost curls into himself from embarrassment - a hand covering his mouth like it’ll do away with the grave sin.

The inneundo happens twice in one conversation, before you get to call under the premise of a victory toast.

A brief conversation about the last hacks barely leaves room for much else except Odxny plans of total isolation.

“Mm. I should’ve known it would come back to this. Why do you care what I choose to do with myself?”

That baffles you in a terribly genuine way. “Am I not allowed to care about another person?”

Odxny speaks honestly. “You are but I mean…” He trails off. He knows how he feels. “I’m not really a person anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m no one. I’m going to be no one. You have other things to fill your life with.”

There’s a vulnerable edge to his voice that he winces at when he hears it. It’s true isn’t it? All of it is true to Odxny, but especially where he says you have other things to fill your life with. You might share the same hobbies, but he’s seen it. He’s seen how different you are - your livelihoods, your existence. You’d be missed if you suddenly disappeared. Odxny knows the same isn’t true for himself. It’s been like that for a long while now.

(It’s crushing. That’s what makes your very ephemeral existence feel like a burden. Why it casts the shadows of doubt on choices he made, about how he would live so long ago. You care, don’t you? At least, more than anyone else in his life in the present. You care so undeniably, and so obviously and it is all so simple to you.

He almost envies it. Almost resents it, too. It’s such a small shred of humanity, the barest forms of sincerity but it is painfully raw. A split nerve. An open wound It’s not like the server, all of whom have accepted this distant fondness. It’s a delicate thread - spider silk accuracy and just as much strength. There’s conviction in your missing him and it haunts him.)

You think of what to say for a long time before landing on it. “I do. But I can care about multiple things at once,”

It sounds like I care about you too closely. He finds himself shivering. He’s truthful with you, unsure of how else to be when it comes to these conversations.

“That sounds burdensome.” He says. “Isn’t that exhausting?”

You don’t lie to him either. “Sometimes. But it’s worth the trouble.”

“Why?”

“Because I like your company,” You reply. Soft sincerity in your words. More clarity. More painstaking light.

“It can’t be that simple.”

“Why not?”

“If it was that simple then -“ Then it makes it seem like things could be different. He doesn’t say that. Stops himself before it can happen. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue. Why do I feel like I need to prove this to you?”

He’s almost afraid to look at your face, wincing when he sees how knowing you look. Not in a condescending way - but genuine, full blown understanding. Like you see through him.

He wonders if he knows you as well as he thought he did.

Your face is so sympathetic. “Are you sure it’s me?”

He cuts the conversation short on his own - making an awkward transition from the topic at hand into whatever he can manage. It’s an awkward fumble - a poor attempt at distracting both of you from this line of thinking. You’re kind enough to let him have it. He asks about your hobbies. You tell him about how you like to try the weirdest things and combinations you can find in a restaurant.

He finds it suits you.

A lot of things suit you. Even your piss poor attempt at the Terminator that he quickly mimics - possessed by god knows what.

You laugh when he does. Brilliant and bubbly and characteristically warm. You say the words through giggles.

“That was so bad!”

“It was a lapse in judgment,” He replies back defensively, smiling against his will. He finds himself laughing too.

“I like your laugh, by the way.”

He pauses caught off-guard. “Oh? My laugh. Oh, uhm. Thank you.”

You make a face that he can’t read. Knowing. In a different way than the last. He feels nervous.

“I have been laughing quite a bit, haven’t I?”

You grin. Smug and deliriously happy. “Sure have.”

He looks away from you. “Ha...Odd.”

You giggle again. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, nose scrunched in genuine delight. It’s a pleasant sound but not because it’s particularly wispy or floaty or delicate. But it’s real. Pleasant in the way the white noise of park during summer. Pleasant like the varied playlist overhead in a record shop. Pleasant like a moment of humanity tucked between everyday. He clears his throat.

“I like your laugh, I think.”

You laugh again, gasping with faux offense. “You think???”

He tries not to feel so grounded by that sound and fails. “Yeah. I think. Laugh again.”

He tries not to add please. You shake your head like you’re reprimanding him.

“No, no, you have to earn that. Make me laugh.”

“Nevermind. Shut up.”

You do laugh again that time. He joins you soon after. “And now you laugh? At me?”

The conversation moves again, comfortable like a tide. You ask about his favorite language and he tells you as much. You’re quiet and growing cheeky, listening to him talk.

“So you do like coding.”

“Maybe a little.” He replies, not giving in. “You remember far too much of what I say.”

The conversation comes to a close again. He thanks you for how nice its been and you make an off-handed attempt to get him to change his mind. You could always talk more. The implication delicate beneath it.

We don’t have to forget each other. Odxny brushes past it - but says he’ll see you tomorrow anyway.

Extorting Elimfs childhood friend (?) is an easy enough endeavor. Odxny texts you through out - to ask advice on what things to take when he leaves.

He calls you again when its over too. He can’t find a reason for it - nothing that makes sense. He just wanted to call you. He hasn’t wanted something like that in a while, but he tells himself its fine. This is the last time you’ll ever know each other.

So its fine. He won’t waver.

He’ll just.. call you.

He asks you on your weed habits, mildly surprised when you tell him you smoke and take edibles sometimes too. The conversation loops back to the fund at one point. You don’t hide your displeasure about the whole thing today.

You’ve talked about it already. No need to keep bringing up. But you seem to feel so strongly and Odxny can’t figure out why. Can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know why every single time.

“Is it really so hard to believe I’ve come to like you in a few days?” You ask, after probing.

“In a way that matters, yes.”

You frown at him when he says that. It’s the most upset he’s seen you look, if he can call it that. You’ve never been upset when he’s been rude or insulting - but this is bothering you. It doesn’t help him pull away from you.

He says it again. Reinforces how temporary this all is. He’s trying to convince one of you. Both of you, maybe, of his unimportance.

“I don’t think that little of you.”

He finds it hard to reply to that. It’s that feeling against. It makes him uncomfortable. It’s not empty platitudes or some vague sense of responsibility for his life. All of it is real, and all of it is meaningful in how plain it is. You make it seem easy.

“It’s life. It’s normal. People come, people go.”

You shake your head. “Not for me. I can’t forget you that easily.”

He wishes you would. He’s painfully, painfully relieved that you wouldn’t it. He voices neither thought.

“Then- try! You’re putting so much on yourself, and for what? You don’t stand to gain anything.”

You shrug. “Peace of mind. Knowing you’re still out there.”

It’s heavy. The implication is heavy. He’s not going to kill himself. He doesn’t want that anymore, though he thought about it. At the beginning. Loneliness is more painful when you have memories of what not being that way was like - he thinks. At the start of all that loss, the hollowness bared an almost painful gravity inside of him.

It’s like being told to breathe or blink - becoming conscious of what was once a natural function, how full life was once when it’s escaped. He doesn’t want to kill himself, but living is meaningless.

These things aren’t paradoxical to him. They haven’t been for all this time.

(They weren’t until he met you at least. A mirror of wanting. Odxny looks at you and sees life reflected back. Despite it not being his, its moving. It’s beautiful in a human way, reachable. Tangible. Earned.

Wherever you are. Whenever you’re together, the black hole inside of himself seems to fade back into average planetary darkness. He becomes cruelly human again, feeling warmth and laughter.

He’s tells himself he’s not afraid of dying and that’s mostly true. He’s most afraid of living. Afraid he won’t be able to learn it again.)

He manages to tell you some of what he’s thinking. He has no clue how to start over. He doesn’t know if it’s possible. You don’t feed him any false hope, but he tells you how he sees it. You’re feeling pity for him right? And you should figure that out sooner rather than later.

“Is it really that easy for you?”

You shake your head. You’re smiling but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “It isn’t. But I have to try.”

“Is that what you’re doing with me?”

“What?”

“Is this…?”

He cuts the call off when he hears himself, unsure of what answer he’s hoping for. The realization dawns on him too much, too quickly. The feeling of hope is loud in his chest but there is another feeling, embarrassing in it’s swiftness that follows shortly after.

Oh.

The servers shuts down after a mildly sappy adventure to close up shop. The closest Odxny has gotten to flirting with you in his own way. He’s sad to see everyone go, despite there being no other choice.

It’s easier than he thought it’d be. To give you his number he means, even after shutting the entire server down. After leaving everything behind. He gives you the choice to make. Call me if you still want it - a silent promise.

Maybe because deep down - some part of him always wanted to make this choice. Just maybe.

Your voice is different over the phone line. A little clearer, spoken softer. Just as lovely as it was the first time he heard it. Maybe more. Maybe.

The city beneath him is bright. So bright. It doesn’t hurt to look at, he thinks.

You call him every day.

You’ve been doing it for months.

He thought, at some point, you’d let up or start to forget. He’s been waiting on it to happen as horrible as it sounds. Like some self-fulfilling prophecy, he’d slip back into the background as is natural. A proof of his nonexistence, if you will.

You don’t forget though. He almost wonders if he’s dreaming when it happens. There’s a routine between you two, these days. You have your own life that you’ve been living the same as normal. When it’s night time for you, though - you hop onto your desktop and call Od like you’re two very average people.

There’s nothing solid to define your relationship aside from friendship as is. This is less frustrating than he expected it to be. Getting to know you better has only made him like you more. Your relationship is solid in a strange way. It’s been about six months total, and as corny as it sounds - Odxny feels like he’s known you for his entire life. You understand him in an intimate way, with vulnerable tenderness and radical acceptance.

He kind of misses the privacy of his old stomping grounds, but he doesn’t mind speaking though discord. It feels… normal. In a not displeasing way. You mostly talk to talk about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it’s your job search, other times it’s your part-time or friend drama. You’re vibrant as always. Without the wall of anonymity, Odxny gets to know of you like he’s just your average person. He finds he really, really likes that.

You play games together frequently. He’s never been interested in cozy gaming, but you play Minecraft and Stardew Valley together per your request. Odxny streams himself playing Ocarina of Time for you on Discord in the background sometimes too, and you keep it on when you’ve got work to do or you’re cooking or something else. There’s something very mundane to it.

You’re not doing anything with him today though. You’re calling him on facetime, rather than at your desktop. You’ve made the executive decision to laze around and Odxny has no problem joining you though you speak less than usual as a result of being sleepy. You had a long shift yesterday so perhaps Odxny can’t blame you.

“Need to get better shoes. For walking and stuff.” You say thoughtlessly. The corners of his lips twitch up.

“Yeah?”

You nod. Your face is smushed against your pillow at an unflattering angle. He smiles a little.

“Yeah. I’m on my feet for like nine hours when I serve and it hurts wearing flats. Need something sturdier even it diminishes my drip.”

He laughs at that. “Please never say that again.”

You continue onwards. “Decreases my aura, even. But alas, utility comes first.”

He snickers as he glances at you through the phone. You’re propped against one of his monitors as he does work on his computer. He’s getting back into programming for the love of the game, just seeing what he can do.

“Want help looking?”

“Feels a little ridiculous asking a super pro-hacker to shop Sketchers with me.”

“You seriously thinking of buying Sketchers?”

You laugh lightly. “Maybe I’ll get tipped more if I get the light-up ones.”

“Please don’t.”

“Hater.”

You break out into genuine laughter as Odxny shakes his head in despair. It’s something you’d do, no doubt. You sigh.

“I really do want a break from work.” You roll around on your mattress. Odxny can hear your rustling but can’t see you much. “The chains of capitalism shackle me in place. Woe is me.”

Odxny thinks on what you’ve said for a long while in silence. The question comes up every now and again though he’s never brave enough to ask it. His ludicrous amount of disposable income however is still sitting in his bank, collecting dust. It’s been six months and he’s hardly made a dent in it.

“Do you want to come visit?” He asks, cringing at the sound of his own voice. The words are strained and a little too eager. “I can pay the difference for expenses for wages and stuff. And, uh. Uhm,”

He loses his train of thought trying to speak, worsened by the way you pop onto his screen when he says that. Your expression is unreadable to him, comfortable and even. You smile a little as you lift the phone so he can see what you look like laying in your bed. Your face is in full view.

“It’d be a little weird to visit you before we start dating officially, no?”

His eyes go wide at the implication. You grin, mischief and mirth making your eyes practically beam. He can feel a blush crawl up his neck as soon as he registers it.

“Excuse me? Why are you saying that like it’s already been decided?” He bites back, not sure what else he could say.

“So you don’t want to date me?”

“I didn’t- you - damn it,” He groans at his own bluster as he giggles on the other side of the line. So cheeky. Damn him for liking it and damn you for being cute. “…You are saying you like me right?”

Your face softens. He can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Uh-huh. Just wanted to take it slow. But I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“How long is that, exactly?”

You shrug playfully and the fact he can’t be within reach to kiss you feels especially harrowing. “A secret.” You smile again, all trouble. “So. Wanna date?”

“Terrible confession. Zero stars,” He says petulantly. He leans back in his chair and finds himself smiling uncontrollably. “Fine. I guess.”

Your laugh fills his room. He doesn’t get tired of hearing it. His face hurts from smiling.

He manages to stave off on the anxiety of you coming to see him for a lot longer than he thought possible.

Making arrangements proves to be a little difficult. You have to tell your roommates that you’ll be gone for a while but promise to still pay rent and explain to your boss where you’re going. You have a good enough relationship and have been working long enough for them to agree to keep a spot open so you can start working when you come back.

After that, there’s the matter of Visas. Odxny goes out of his way to make that process go much faster than normal, though he doesn’t actually tell you. Once all of that’s sorted, there’s living arrangements. Try as you might to insist to live somewhere else, his place is too spacious for him to let you stay anywhere else. You can take the guest room.

He pretends that all of this is just happening in his imagination. He doesn’t even know the last time anyone came over, let alone lived with him. He does his best to make things presentable, and makes a guest room for you to live in should you desire. He even buys more decor (plants and things) to make it look… less like a cave and more like a home.

Nothing really feels real until the day arrives though. It’s a long flight and difficult trip. You refused to let him pay for the tickets so he moved it around to get you into first class both ways through other methods.

You text him the terminal, the arrival time, any and all delays. Still. None of it feels real until he’s already waiting for you near the bags. He can feel his heart race, his lungs short of air. He’s never experienced something so ridiculously contradictory in his entire life. He wants to run away while feeling stuck in place.

The anticipation nearly kills him.

He would recognize your voice anywhere though. Like he did for so many days alone in the dark. A hand waves high, shouting as loud as it can.

“It’s you!”

The sound of sneakers skidding across tile floors make his breath hitch. His eyes go wide as you stand still in front of him, luggage in hand and a million-watt smile on your face. He feels his heart beat so loud, he wonders if he’s going to throw up.

“Hey.” He says, dumbly.

“Hi!”

The adjustment period to living together isn’t what he expects.

It’s been a long time since he’s been so close to another human being. It becomes clear that you’re really living together though when your things end up in the bathroom completely incidentally. There’s something about finding your sleep shirt on a towel rack that makes reality settle in. You’re living together.

He’d be stupid not to notice the purposeful distance between you. An attempt to be thoughtful and not overwhelm him. It’s never awkward when you’re together. You eat together, watch movies and play games while sitting too close on the couch. You’ve been on a date in the two weeks you’ve spent, and it barely took any convincing on your end to make him go along with you.

Isolation aside though, Odxny is not clueless to the conventions of modern dating. You avoid touching him too casually. He doesn’t blame you, but he can’t help but crave your presence with a little more bittersweet longing as the days pass. He has to get past it or bring it up eventually, but it feels like something he’s never going to get over somehow.

The opportunity to do so gets thrown at him all at once. You’ve been living together for sixteen days. A conversation about love languages is what undoes it.

“Whats your love language, Od?”

He gives you a quizzical look. “Dunno actually. Never bothered to look.”

“I’d guess… hm. Quality time maybe? Or words of affirmation.”

He shrugs as he sits next to you on the couch, glancing at your phone as you read through the different ones. “What’s yours?”

“Physical touch. I’m super touchy. With anyone who will let me, honestly. Bad habits.”

Odxny gives you a long look as you say it. He debates if he should bring it up.

“You don’t have to be so careful around me, you know?”

You look up at him, startled by the comment. Several things pass over your face before you settle on an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s not like I don’t want to. I just don’t want to be too much for you.”

“That wouldn’t happen.” He says automatically. You laugh good-naturedly.

“Your confidence is assuring, but you underestimate how touchy I am. I’m afraid of I get my hands on you, I’ll never let go again,”

He thinks he wants that more than is normal. He shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”

You give him a long look, seeming struck by an idea, before humming and standing up. You turn around with your hand out towards him. His brows furrow in bewilderment.

“Have some faith.”

He takes your hand and stands up with you. He likes that he’s taller than you. Staring at you, he feels your fingers clasp around his hand and his heart thuds - loud and messy.

“Your room or mine?”

“What?”

You laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Or don’t actually, but I don’t bear lewd intentions.”

He crinkles his nose at the word usage and laughs. “Shut up.”

“Just trust me, okay?”

He concedes with embarassing swiftness.

“Okay.”

You lead Odxny to the guest room you’ve been living in for the last two weeks. The bed is well-made and all the new furniture he bought is occupying so many of your belongings. It makes him dizzy. You shut the door behind him as you lead him in. It just feels especially surreal.

Wordless, you let go of his hand and hop up onto your bed. Once you’re laying down, you prop up on your side with your elbow and pat the empty space next to you, smiling at him as you do. Once it clicks what your asking, he can feel his face grow hot. He can’t refuse it though, and he doesn’t want too.

The sheets you bought together smell like you. Between there’s practically no distance between you at this angle. He’s gotten to look at you plenty through these few days but it’s different. You scoot impossibly close to him until there’s nothing separating you.

Your breath is warm - a soft exhale leaving your lips as you inch closer.

“What’re we doing?” He asks in a murmur, stone stiff. You smile, coyly.

“Touching each other.”

He frowns at the joke. Your expression goes a touch serious right after. The sincerity is debilitating. “Can I touch you?”

He nods. Can’t do much more than that.

He stares at you with impending, long-suffering longing as you bring a single hand to his face and cradle his neck. He flinches unintentionally, but pulls your hand back when you try to move it. He wants this. You relax a little when he does that.

Your hands are softer. Softer than a heartbeat. He can feel the various cuts and scars from years of working against his skin but they’re still so soft. He can feel how warm you in such a brief touch his chest aches. Your hands cradle his face tenderly, thumb brushing across his lip with a smile brighter than thousands of lights. Something in your expression wreaks havoc on his heart. Something so raw and so gentle and so full within it - all directed towards him.

It’s been so long. So long. He’s never wanted something so bad he couldn’t remember needing. He’s never wanted to be closer to someone than he does to you in the moment.

“You’re handsome,” You say, so sweetly. Not a confession, but gentle appraisal. It’s rare he cries but he wants too. “I like looking at you. Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” He rasps, gravel in his voice unfamiliar.

You hum a little. Closing the space between you with a press of lips. It’s not chaste. Odxny is grateful for how long and how deep you linger. He wants it so badly. He wants you in some damning and unforgiving way. How could a human being feel so warm? Feel so pleasant with so little?

You press your foreheads together. His hand trembles when they grip onto your waist but you encourage him just a little. It’s just a kiss. His heart might beat out of him. It’s just a kiss. He thinks he loves you.

Your hand moves away from his face. You let it go underneath his loose shirt to touch his shoulder, running your palm down the plane of his chest. You squeeze his waist, and wrap your arms around his back and pull him to you until your bodies touch somewhere in the middle.

You guide his face to your neck and chest as you hold him. He grips onto you tight in response, a gasp in the back of his lungs at the sudden sensation. You coo above him, soft and light - your fingers threading through his hair and nails massaging his scalp.

Your voice sounds above him, despite how deep in a haze he is. He can’t do anything but cling to you with impossible longing. You speak softly as you pet him. Your heartbeat soothes his.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You tell him. There’s that familiar clarity that makes him want to cry. “I’m glad you let me come with you.”

He can’t think of anything to say back. It’s a soul-shattering emotion. “I love you.”

You laugh wetly above him. “I love you, too. So much.” And then much softer. “Let’s be together for a long time.”

You lay in each others arms until sunset. In small talk and silent murmurs. It takes him hours to work up the courage to kiss you again - but only minutes to take it further.

It’s desperate. Terribly. Inevitable. You’re beautiful in a way that is undescribable, best expressed through his teeth on your neck and his hands all over where he can reach - each grip and thrust and bite a reminder. You’re pretty when you’re pleased, warmth reaching up inside of him whenever you make the right face.

He buries himself in you. You’re soft and warm and beautiful and he wants to stay with you. Time is a thief. He damns the sun when it tears you from him come morning.

He decides to make breakfast when you wake up. Nothing complicated. You go to shower after him and he plates up toast and eggs and other various things. It’s half done when you come downstairs.

Your skin is still damp, and you smell of vanilla and soap. Your coffee sits in a cup on the table as you pad over to him. He turns to look at you as you reach your hand up and cup his face. You pepper a kisses along his cheeks stopping at his lips for the last one before you’re satisfied.

He fails in his attempt not to blush.

“Morning.” You grin. He tries not to be sick at the domesticity of it all and fails.

“Yeah. Morning.”

You sit at the counter and drink your coffee, glancing outside the window. “It’s bright outside.”

Odxny can’t tear his eyes off of you. “Yeah...” He agrees. He’s not torn his gaze away. “Very bright.”

✮ a/n ; i want all real life compsci men to kick rocks but odxny sweeped me off my feet in a way i can only describe as humiliating. he is a bit like astarion for me in that i see a lot of myself in him at least in the past. he is also incredibly babygirl and uhm . other things (fine. he's very gorjus.) but i truthfully was most compelled by his idealized idea of isolation. as the fic will show it resonated with me as a fellow compsci dork who also tends to isolate like crazy LOL

this fic was like a demon that possessed me. literally no meds, no caffiene - just balls to the wall demonic possesion of needing something out of my system LMAOO. and adhd of course. im working on all the other stuff too i promise. consider this a short interlude 👍🏾

#seekL x reader #odxny x reader #seekL #odxny #girl how the hell am i meant to tag this #normal fandoms tagging ettiquette means no fic but i dont think it applies here #what is my problem so genuinely

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munsooooon · 4 months

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Steve hates very much to be called "Steven" not even as a joke, he has not talked about it with anyone but implicitly everyone senses it in some way or another and therefore they do not call him that way, it is always Steve or Harrington or some nickname. That's because when his parents called him that it was because they were incredibly angry or drunk and therefore punished him in horrible ways, when they called him Steven he usually ended up getting beaten up. When they called him Steven in public it was enough to make him freeze and make him shiver, eventually he would be silent and terrified for the rest of the evening.

Now being older if someone calls him Steven, he immediately assumes they are fighting with him or that he did something wrong and depending on the situation or the person he will react with sadness or anger, for example, when Tommy called him Steven, it ended in a awful fist fight. It really makes him feel very bad, in recent years sadness is what he felt the most when he hears his name, because it hurts him too much to disappoint the people he loves.

Eddie doesn't know it, but he doesn't call him Steven either, it's always a nickname or Stevie, or Steve or even Harrington. Until one night, when they were in Steve's room kissing fiercely and passionately, Steve was under him doing whatever it took to feel Eddie rubbing his skin, between gasps and accelerated breaths, every little movement Eddie made or every little touch Steve felt, he reacted effusively with his whole body shuddering, he was and felt hypersensitive, he couldn't keep still.

"Steven" Eddie whispered with softness and a beautiful smile, Steve looked at him surprised. "Stay still, I need to take your clothes off, love"

Steve loved that. It was the first time someone pronounced his name with such love. He stood for a few seconds, processing what was happening. He began to shake in anticipation of what Eddie might give him. His brain was short-circuited, and all he could think of was Eddie calling him "Steven" with that authority and that beautiful softness that only he had. He felt loved.

"Are you okay? Do you want us to stop?"

Steve took a few seconds to appreciate him, ran his face gently, because the words wouldn't come out even though they were in his throat. He was always silent when he shouldn't be but he couldn't help it.

Eddie kissed the hand that was on his face, not intending to go any further, and Steve melted once again, he wanted to speak and express loudly the pleasure the other boy was making him feel but he couldn't. Instead, he took Eddie's hand and directed it to his pants to make him feel what he had provoked, to make him understand that he didn't want to stop.

"No, I don't want to stop" Steve said as he sat on Eddie's lap. "Call me Steven again, just you, just you Eddie, call me love, baby, tell me I'm your princess and never stop"

Steve was incredibly loud that night, moving his hips against Eddie's lap, trying to fuck himself harder, deeper. He spoke his name softly and lovingly, until he began to cry, begged for more as tears flooded his face. Eddie held him tight with his arms to keep him right where he wanted him but also to keep him safe to hold him as he released a weight he seemed to be carrying for years.

Eddie couldn't utter a word, it was unbelievable. Eddie was always loud and Steve was quieter, but in the dark, in the security of their love, Steve could be whatever he wanted and could act however he wanted, so he was being loud as he wished because in Eddie's arms no one could punish him.

"You're such a good boy, don't you?" Eddie says softly.

"Yeah?" Steve asks as he chases Eddie, he moans loudly as Eddie once again hits that place on his body, his mouth stays open as he moves on Eddie, soft sounds keep coming out of his mouth, he closes his eyes, because he can feel Eddie all over his body, even though he moves slowly.

"Yeah. You're so sweet, my baby boy, I can't even explain how much I love you, princess"

Steve smiles with his eyes closed. He looked precious, his cheeks were flushed, his lips red, and somehow the tears made him incredibly beautiful.

....

Steve still hates being called that, he finally confessed it to Eddie but also gave him permission to call him that on special occasions. Plus, he told him that he would love to tell his parents what he does with the traumas they caused him. Because now every time he's called Steven it's because he's loved, because he's revered and because he's being fucked incredibly well.

Steve get his name back, Steven belonged to him and Eddie.

#eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie headcanon #stranger things #steddie ficlet #guys i blame my depression and the deftones for this

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thatdiabolicalfeminist · 1 month

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anyone wanna help a poor disabled person w groceries? aug 22, 2024

hi, i'm so sorry, i feel awful asking again, but my income is about 1/3rd of the local minimum wage and i am physically disabled and unable to make more money and don't really have other options.

this month has been much more expensive than usual, as for a third of the month i had to get celiac-safe groceries & personal care items for two additional disabled people, and on this income i often struggle even to meet my own needs.

i currently owe more money than i have left bc i had to borrow to get them groceries & meds etc and while i'd do the same again bc they're very important to me and should have their needs met, i need to pay that back asap and i'm now struggling with needing groceries and personal care items for my own body and not having money left to cover them.

would any financially secure adult be willing to help with even $5?

I get groceries from walmart bc it's cheapest.

There are gift cards here starting at $5 if anyone wants to help: https://giftcards.walmart.com/

They can be sent anonymously or not, as you choose.

My email address is thatdiabolicalfeminist at gmail dot com. (please do not try to send paypaI there, that account is very very old and i no longer have access to even refund anything sent so i feel awful every time i get an email about somebody sending something :( )

thank you for tolerating this on your dash and i'm sorry once again for asking, i just genuinely do not have other options.

If even one person helps with even $5 i'd be extremely grateful!!!

#mine #i'm really sorry i really do fucking hate asking for help i just don't know what else to do

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myfictionaldreams · 11 months

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Day 20: Fear Play - Mafia!Stucky

Summary: You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing, and all you could was silence echoing around the house, but you knew you weren’t alone.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, consensual non-consent (CNC), threesome (f/m/m), discussion of safe words/consent before, fear play, chasing, uniform kink, manhandling, spanking, begging, restrained/held down, rough sex, pain/pleasure, size kink, degradation, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), possessive, breathplay, cockwarming, aftercare

masterlist 📚

kinktober masterlist😈

AO3 Link

“Are you sure about this? I really don’t think you’re going to enjoy it. I mean, Doll, you cried watching Scream. Do you think you’ll be able to cope with something like this?”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at the blatant mocking from Bucky, who was currently sitting on the coffee table with your feet in his lap, his fingers massaging the soles and earning a deep groan to pour from your mouth as you’d been in stilettos for so long today that your feet ached terribly. Your head fell back against Steve’s shoulder, whose lap you were currently sitting in, his arms wrapped around your middle to keep you close.

“Well, Buckaroo, we won’t know until I try it now, will I? Anyway, it was Scream that gave me the idea”, you explain with your eyes closed, enjoying the massage thoroughly. Steve and Bucky share an unsure look, knowing just how sensitive you are. However, with your eyes closed, you didn’t notice and continued trying to convince them, “I’ll use my safe words if I’m not enjoying it, but please, can we just try it?”

Steve's hold tightens for a moment as you melt further into the embrace, “We’ll try it, but if you hate it, I do need you to communicate clearly with us, especially something that could potentially become triggering. If you are sure you would like us all to do this, then I'm happy if you are”.

Turning your face so you can kiss his cheek, you smile and say, “Thank you, I definitely want to try it. However, if Bucky keeps massaging my feet like that, I'm going to fall asleep before anything even happens”.

You groan in pleasure as he massages deeper, smiling at the reaction he is getting. “Don't fight it, hot mama, get some sleep. We’ve had a long day, so get some rest”.

You don't need to be told twice as you snuggle into Steve whilst wiggling your toes for Bucky to continue, which he happily did, wanting to satisfy his best girl.

Some naps, you awake feeling like a new person, rejuvenated and ready to live the best of the day. Other times, naps were more detrimental, leaving you feeling disorientated and confused, not knowing the time of the day. You'd had the latter versions on naps, waking up in a different room from where you'd fallen asleep.

It took a couple of minutes of mumbling and groaning, stretching your muscles, to figure out that you were in your large bed, but most importantly, naked and alone in the darkness.

“Steve? Bucky?” you shouted into the darkness whilst fumbling around for your phone, but there was nothing, so rolling over, you clicked the bedside lamp on. However, it didn’t turn on as you remained in darkness, so you stood, holding the thin sheet to your body to try and keep out the chill, and stumbled to the light switch, flicking it a few times and then sighing in frustration when it didn't turn in.

A deep chill cursed through your body as your back pushed against the wall, looking around the room more thoroughly, whichh was only slightly illuminated by the security lights that seeped through the gaps in the blinds. The shadows around the furniture seemed to look more threatening than ever before as you realised that the electricity was not working and the house was haunting silently. All you could hear was the thumping of your panicking heartbeat in your ears as you tried to take a moment to process everything that was going on.

You were naked, with only a sheet to cover your modesty, your phone was missing, the electricity wasn't working, and Steve and Bucky were not answering your calls as you were seemingly home alone. Taking a deep breath to steady your increasing nerves, your grip on the sheet tightened as you tried to come up with reasonable answers for what was happening.

The conversation with your boyfriends was the first thing to come to mind, and maybe they were planning the surprise now. However, when you mentioned the topic of fear play, you'd expected it to be like running away from them in the middle of the woods or a jump scare whilst out in an expensive club, as you role-played not knowing them.

Releasing the tension in your shoulders with a long breath, you decided this was probably the most reasonable excuse for your predicament. As you stepped forward, another dark thought cast through your mind. What if it wasn't them? What if they’d been called away as you were sleeping, and they didn't want to wake you, and now you were being targeted? There were many dangers to relationships with mafia gang members, specifically the boss and his partner. The house was thoroughly guarded, and security surrounded the building 24 hours a day, but the enemy was cruel and had broken the three of you more times than you'd like even to begin counting.

It then dawned on you: why would they strip you naked and put you into bed? Wouldn't they have just killed you if it was the enemy?

Finally, you decided this was probably Steve and Bucky’s doing, and they were planning whatever was for your fantasy. This did little to ease the tension for you now as you realised who you were asking. They were both trained in the army, and Bucky, additionally as an assassin, had been experimented on and given specific abilities to heighten every part of their body, including hearing. They had so many more advantages at that moment than you; if you moved even an inch, they would surely hear it even from a room away. Not even to mention the years they’d had as dangerous mafia gang members, all the experience they’d had stalking their victims, you were unsure of the tactic they had planned.

Your heart was beating harder as the adrenaline began to spike throughout your body. It was hard to decide what to do next. Do you stand there and wait for them to find you with no exit route, as your bedroom was on the second floor? Or do you try to tiptoe through the house, preferably somewhere downstairs, where you could find some weapons of some sort, including that it wasn’t actually Steve or Bucky?

Deciding the latter, with as much grace as possible, you slowly walked through the upper part of your house. Even the sound of the sheet dragging on the floor made you cringe with its volume, so you gathered the excess material into your arms to increase your stealth. There was nothing you could do to dampen the noise of the stairs creaking as you descended them one at a time. Each breath was slow to try not to inform whoever was in your home as to where you were, but you were sure they could easily find you by listening for how loudly your heart was hammering against your rib cage.

You were now faced with your next decision. To leave out of the front door or find a weapon in the kitchen and potentially leave through the back door. Deciding the front door, you rushed over and then bit back a cry as the handle wouldn’t turn; it was thoroughly jammed. Trying to regain composure, you didn’t stop walking until you were in the kitchen, which had never seemed so frightening in the darkness.

Walking with muscle memory, you crept around the kitchen island to the drawers that stored the knives. Except when you opened it, you were greeted with an empty draw; in fact, there were no utensils, plates, pans, nothing whatsoever in any of the cupboards, as if someone had prepared for you to go and try and find a weapon to defend yourself.

As you’d decided to abort your plan for a weapon and try to escape out of the front door, was the exact moment a gloved hand pressed over your mouth, silencing your scream.

“We can do this the hard way or the extremely hard way”, a muffled voice spoke from behind as you were abruptly pulled back against a solid body with a metal arm around your waist. You knew it was Bucky, even from the smell of his aftershave that lingered beneath the overwhelming scent of leather and tactical gear. Even with the confirmation that it was your boyfriend behind the nakedness, disappearing phones and no lights, this did nothing to calm the fear tumbling through your stomach as you continued to tremble and attempt to pull away from your captor.

In doing so, the sheet slipped out of your grip, pooling to your feet, revealing your utterly nude body. You shivered at the chill and exposure. The indifference to the situation deepened as usually, Bucky’s body would thoroughly warm yours, especially if he had an arm around you. However, whatever he wore seemed to contain all his heat. The ex-assassin towered over your body, firmly pressing his body against your back so that you could feel rugged buckles indented into your skin. You’d never seen him in this uniform before or even with a face mask covering half of his face, muffling his voice.

You could feel him leering over your shoulder, and even though he was someone you trusted more than anyone in the entire world, the persona he was currently playing was more deadly than anything you’d ever seen before. The name flashed through your mind like an alarm bell. You’d never know Bucky through those dark days when he was the enemy’s weapon, but you’d been there for the nightmares, the mind breaks that had him fearing to be near you in case he had a momentary lapse in his judgement. The Winter Solider was a dangerous part of Bucky’s past, and it seemed that he was adorning the attire to strike fear through your heart.

The arm crushing around your waist tightened as he looked down at your now naked body, as you attempted to both cover yourself and wiggle free from the hold. “Well, that makes it easier. My pretty little lamb, oh, the things I’m going to do to you”, he drawled as his metal thumb pressed into the flesh of your hip.

His words had the desired effect you’d been hoping for. Unfathomable fear, laced with cunt soaking arousal, pulses through you so deeply that your knees shook as your thighs clenched tightly together.

Bucky noticed, his arm squeezing even tighter until you were gasping and slapping the unmoveable limb. Before you could comprehend the next move, you were screaming from being manhandled, your feet leaving the safety of the floor as the Winter Soldier lifted you, turning on the spot and roughly pushing you against the kitchen island. The coldness of the marble countertop was nearly overwhelming against your soft skin. You attempted to move off the surface, kicking your legs to get free, but the man behind you seemed to be everywhere, holding your arms down and stepping between your legs, spreading them further so he could use his hips and weight to keep you still.

“No point trying to run, little lamb; you’re all mine to use as I see fit”. His voice was monotone, almost lifeless, which helped you to fall further into the narrative of fear. Wiggling your hips to try to loosen his hold, it only made him hold you tighter until you cried out.

“Le-Let go of me, please!” you begged as you tried to look over your shoulder at him, but all you could see was a dark outline.

A sharp swat with his palm to your arse cheek shut you up quickly, “Such a pathetic little thing, begging like that. Don’t worry though, little lamb, you’ll be begging alright when we both have our turn”.

Through all the struggle, you’d momentarily forgotten about Steve, who had yet to join the scenario and like any other time that you thought of your blonde boyfriend, your cunt clenched automatically. “Giving up already?” the Soldier interrupted your dirty thoughts, “I thought you’d have more fight than this, but that’s fine with me; it makes this all so much easier”. He ground his hips harder against yours so that his covered crotch roughly scrapped against your pussy.

You were plunged back into the fear, trying to go through your memories of whenever Bucky or Steve had tried to train you with self-defence to get out of these similar situations, but it was difficult when they would anticipate your next move. With your hell, you violently kicked down, aiming mindlessly. At the same time, you turned towards his flesh arm that was still holding down your wrist. Simultaneously, you managed to bite his gloved hand and kick his kneecap, which caused a grunt of pain and his weight to fall back for a split second, which was all the time you needed to roll off the counter and run.

Run like your life depended on it. The front door was still jammed, so you decided hiding was the next best option as you began to climb the stairs two at a time. All for your ankle to be grabbed by a metal hand, causing your body to tumble onto the carpeted stairs, which thankfully wasn’t too painful on a fall.

Not that you cared about this as you let out an almighty scream that echoed around the eerily quiet house as Bucky roughly grabbed you, having been right behind you the entire time, needing more than just a simple bite and quick kick to hurt.

“That wasn’t very nice, looks like the little lamb needs a lesson on how to play nicely with others”. Bucky managed to twist both of your arms behind your back, keeping them locked together in his metal hand, and the other began to play with the buckle of his uniform, his big thighs forcefully pushing yours apart.

Even though the carpet had softened your fall, it rubbed roughly against your soft skin as you were once more manhandled. Your face, chest, hips and knees burned from the friction as Bucky knelt behind you on the stairs.

Maybe it was the adrenaline or the act of the roughness that was turning you on so much, but it was verging on embarrassing how wet you could feel yourself becoming as the Soldier freed his cock.

“Got a lovely present for you, little lamb, and you’re going to take every. Single. Inch of it”. With each emphasis of his words, the thick tip of his cock pushed against your entrance, spreading it open until it burned from adjusting to his girth. In this position, he felt impossibly big as your body reacted with heat and entire body shivers, saliva filling your mouth as you let out pathetic screams.

“It’s too big; it’s not going to fit!” your bottom lip quivered as your eyes shut, breathing slowly as he kept going until fully penetrated.

“It’s a good thing I made it fit”, he mocked into your ear, the material of his mask pushing into your cheek. Bucky fucked you hard, without restraint, so your entire body burned from the carpet and the force of his thrusts.

You’d become lost in his fucking, mind wholly consumed by the cock pressing into your core, the body pushing into you and the hand that began to cover your mouth to quieten your cries.

With the dampened volume, you could now hear the purposefully heavy footsteps from the top of the stairs. It was hard to look up with Bucky pressing into you, but you already knew who it was, even as a pair of combat boots stood on the step above where your head lay.

“How does she feel?” Steve asks Bucky in the tone he only saved for when he was at work. Powerful, full of authority and an inkling of darkness.

“Tight and wet, I think she’s starting to like it, aren’t you, little lamb?” Bucky answers cockily whilst not slowing his fucking, but his hand releases your mouth to grip your jaw firmly, tilting your head back painfully until you are looking up at Steve.

Even though it was difficult to see in the dark, you could identify that Steve was in his own uniform that you’d only seen in pictures. It seemed dark navy blue, with buckles around his waist and a giant white star in the centre of his chest. Like Bucky, this uniform was from his time in the army, usually saved for his undercover missions where he used the alias Captain America.

“You really are a sick thing, aren’t you, getting all tight at seeing your intruders, huh?” Bucky quipped, releasing your embarrassed face as you realised how tightly you’d squeezed his cock.

“Get off me!” you tried to fight out of his hold again, but he held firmly.

“Such a pretty face, be a shame to let it go to waste, don’t you think, Cap?” the Soldier admires as a tear leaks down your cheek. Apparently, his eyesight was good enough to notice as he wiped it away, spearing it into the skin.

“It would. Get her up; I want to see just how tight she is. You can have her mouth”, Steve commands, talking as if you weren’t even there, which, for some reason, only turned you on more, even if you were still frightened by the situation.

Ungracefully, Bucky pulls out and wraps his arms around your body, hoisting you up and over his shoulder and descends back down the stairs and into the living room. There, you are dumped onto the couch, bouncing a few times before a different pair of hands forces you onto your knees, turning you until you’re leaning over the back of the furniture.

There, you’re greeted with Bucky’s cock that is still proudly on display. “If you bite me, I promise you, I’ll make your life a misery”, he warns as his hand harshly pulls the back of your head until your lips are pushed against the wet tip of his cock.

You can smell your liquids on him and try to keep your lips sealed for a moment, but then Steve is behind you, holding both hands behind your back like Bucky had been as he, too, began to widen your knees to give himself some room. You tried in vain to get out of his hold, to play the victim character, tears springing to your eyes as a sob wracked through your chest. It mainly was the pumping adrenaline that was making it so easy for your to fall into actress mode, but it only made it feel more real, which in turn wettened your cunt.

As Bucky had already fucked you, Steve didn’t need to take as long slowly filling you up. Instead, he thrust in with one quick movement that took your breath away with how wide you’d been stretched. It also forced your mouth to open in a silent gasp and was the perfect opportunity for Bucky to push his cock into your face.

You gagged instantly as the tip glided to the back of your throat. It was overwhelming initially, but as you relaxed your cries and throat, he could push deeper. Steve and Bucky both sighed in contentment at being in both of your warm, wet holes. This serenity lasted a single second as they both used every ounce of strength and training to fuck your holes.

Every time Steve would fuck in, your body would jolt forward so that your mouth took more of Bucky. It was like an endless sex circle, your body being used thoroughly between the two, their little toy to use however they’d like.

“Maybe we should visit the little lamb more often”, Steve grunted between powerful thrusts that were starting to make you dizzy with how perfectly they grazed your sensitive nerves. “Can’t be leaving a pretty girl like you to be all by your lonesome; someone needs to fill this hole. You’re ours now, do you understand? Ours to fuck, touch and maim whenever we like”.

You couldn’t help it as your body tensed in arousal, throat and cunt pulsing and squeezing like your body naturally wanted to milk their cocks with the way it was reacting. It earned a throaty moan from both of them, their hands squeezing in recognition that they knew you were close to orgasming.

It had almost sneaked up on you, that burning to peak in your abdomen, the tingles shifting through your thighs with each thrust. You’d been secretly enjoying this rough fear play so much that you’d fallen so into being the victim that your body seemed to want to explode to release the tension.

However, when you finally cum, it only earned more teasing from Steve and Bucky, both continuing to use you throughout. “So pathetic, cumming on my cock like that; you must be desperate little lamb”.

They didn’t stop, just held you in that one position as you came again after a few minutes, feeling now tender and sore with overstimulation and yet dribbling from both your mouth and cunt.

Bucky came first, down your throat in thick ropes of cum that you swallowed after some encouragement from him which was to hold his cock in your mouth and pinch your nose until you had no other option but to swallow so that you could breathe.

You slumped over the back of the couch by the time Steve was soaking your cunt, his hips rocking into you with such force that your bones groaned from the impact, but you took it all, even squeezing your walls to help milk him completely.

Your entire body trembled when the lights came back on, causing you to flinch and hide your face in the pillows. Steve was the first to break character, kissing along the back of your shoulder and massaging the areas of your wrists he’d been holding.

“You good?” he asks, carefully working his lips up your neck and to your cheek, kissing away the kisses that had left tracks down your face.

“I’m perfect”, you say, huskier than you’d ever sounded.

Steve chuckled, “Seem’s Bucky did a number on your throat, " he joked as he leaned back, giving you some space for a moment but only to roll the two of you over gently. His cock was still inside you, but you were grateful for this, needing this sort of aftercare where you felt close to him as he held you close to his body.

“Everyone good?” Bucky asks, taking off his mask and sitting beside the two of you. Steve nods as you smile at the brunette who is visually checking over your body for any marks, only noticing the areas that had rubbed against the carpet. “Sorry, I didn’t think about carpet burn. Do these hurt?” he asks whilst looking at the marks.

Shaking your head no, you tried to cuddle further into Steve but found it rather tricky. “This uniform isn’t comfortable whatsoever”, you mumbled against the star on his chest.

“Duly noted”, Steve laughed, kissing your head.

“I mean, I like their look, but maybe keep them in the wardrobe for cuddles. Also, do we need to get new security? Even with the lights off, didn’t they think to check on me with all the screaming?”

Bucky moved closer, his hands-free of the gloves as he stroked up your naked spine. “I warned them not to come knocking whilst the lights were out as we were playing a fun little game”.

You gave him an incredulous expression, “I’m sure they must think we’re crazy”.

Bucky shrugs, showing you his charming grin as he ducks his head to kiss your cheek chastely, “They probably do, but I don’t care, not when I’ve got my little lamb to chase in the dark”.

#mafia!stucky #mafia au #steve rogers #bucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #stucky smut #stucky x reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #mine*

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wosoamazing · 1 month

Text

More Than Football?

Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leòn x Teen!R

Warnings: Celiac Disease (if that counts)

Notes: Just an idea that popped into my head and I ran with it. I hope you all like it 1.5k words

“What time is it?” Ingrid asked her girlfriend as they waited at the private arrivals gate, you hadn’t even met any of the team, yet here you were needing security to escort you through the airport and being picked up at the private arrivals gate. You were a powerhouse and your transfer was major news, something that meant you were no longer a low level footballer.

“She’ll be okay, they’re escorting her, it’s okay,”

“She is going to be so nervous, and the media and fans are just going to make it worse,” Ingrid rambled, she knew you from the National team, but also because your Dad’s were friends, having worked together for many years, you'd received many Jerseys from Ingrid over the years.

“Thank you for picking me up,” you mumbled slightly embarrassed by the amount of security you had with you.

“You’re living with us of course we’d pick you up,” Ingrid replied and you nodded. You tried to convince the club to let you have your own place, there was an apartment two floors above Mapi and Ingrid’s for sale, but they said no. It’s not that you didn’t want to live with someone or that you didn’t like Mapi and Ingrid, you just felt bad. Knowing they would have to buy a whole new set of cooking utensils, more pots and pans, and even new versions of every sauce and spread. They would have to have two of everything, to reduce the chances of you being exposed to gluten. You and your parents had offered to pay for the additional expenses but they refused, it was their choice for you to live with them so they would pay.

“Did you eat on the plane?” Ingrid asked, as Mapi took your bags from you. Ingrid was pretty sure that your answer would be no, you didn’t like flying and she knew you felt like you could never trust plane food to be gluten free, but she still wanted to ask.

“No, but I’m not hungry,” you replied, as you climbed into the back seat of the car.

“Frido no, that one can’t be used,” Mapi exclaimed as she snatched the tub of butter out of the Swedes hands before it could be opened.

“It’s just butter?” Frido shrugged as Ingrid handed her the other tub, the swede had decided she was going to go to training with the three of you and seemingly she had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning.

“What Mapi means is that tub is Skatt’s, because it’s got pink tape on it. It’s gluten free,”

“Aren’t all butter’s gluten free?”

“Not, when you put the knife you’ve used on the bread back in the tub, isn’t it obvious,” you snarked back quietly, thinking no one heard you.

“Skatt, manners and go get your training bag,” Ingrid told you, before turning to apologise to Frido.

“Sorry,” you grumbled back, before going to get your bag.

Frido was taken aback by your extreme personality change from when you were at Ingrid and Mapi’s to now. You were standing outside the training centre, looking at the doors hesitantly, there was no sign of you from before, your entire personality and demeanour was overtaken by nerves.

“You’ve got this,” Ingrid said as she squeezed your hand slightly, sensing how nervous you were.

“You’ll stay with me?” you asked tentatively.

“Of course, our lockers are next to each other. Let’s just go in and see how we feel, we can go from there,” Ingrid reassured you and you gave her a small nod, before you began to walk in.

You were sitting on Alexia’s couch when you started to feel off, your head started to ache slightly and your abdomen cramped ever so slightly, the tale-tale signs you’d been exposed to gluten. It was team bonding and they ordered in, you said you were fine bringing something from home but they insisted they had scouted the restaurant and that if was safe, however you could never really trust someone.

“Ing, I don’t feel good, can we go home? I think I accidentally had some gluten” you asked, thankful you were sitting next to her, meaning you didn’t have to make too much of a scene, she nodded before she said something to Mapi. Ingrid knew how quickly your symptoms could progress and she wanted to get you home as soon as possible.

“Let’s go to the car,” Ingrid said standing up, helping you to your feet, before guiding you out the door, ignoring everyone’s eyes on you both, “Mapi is just seeing if Ale has a sick bag or something,”

—

“We’re going to go to sleep now. If you need anything just call out for us or message us, I’ll leave my phone on for tonight,” Ingrid told you, and you nodded in reply, she placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving. You’d changed into an old pair of training shorts and a singlet when you arrived home, before taking your tablets, having spent the rest of the afternoon in your bed, curled up with a heat pack.

Ingrid woke up later that night to the sound of sobbing, she sat up and checked her phone, she had several messages from you, the first having been sent 45 minutes ago. The last message caused her to feel physically sick.

It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m just a teammate I understand, you don’t have to look after me, sorry if I woke you.

Ingrid rushed around the apartment Ingrid wordlessly walked into your room and handed you two tablets along with some water, which you took before she handed you a new heat pack to replace the now cold one. She laid down next to you and you instinctively curled into her side, her arms wrapping around you.

“Ing, it hurts,” you whimpered out as you tried to find a comfortable position, your insides were cramping like there was no tomorrow, whilst also feeling like they were on fire.

“I know Skatt, I’m so sorry,” Ingrid said as a tear rolled down her cheek, “my phone must’ve turned itself off, I promise I wasn’t ignoring you and I would never ignore you, you’re like a little sister to me, and I care about you, so does Mapi and the team, we would never not help you, I promise,” she paused before continuing “Do you need anything else?”

“Stay?” you quietly asked, scared she would get mad.

“Of course, I’m not leaving again,” she said as she started to run her fingers up and down your back, helping you relax.

“Princesa,” Mapi said softly as she pushed some of Ingrid’s hair out of her face.

“Mapi?” Ingrid mumbled, before rubbing her eyes, and sitting up, willing herself to wake up completely.

“I’m just about to leave for training, I’ve already called Pere and told him you both aren't coming in today. She is doing okay, she is out on the couch, we’ve had breakfast and there is some there for you, she isn’t mad at you, I promise, she feels bad for making you upset, we’ve talked about it. Just take it slow today, promesa,”

“She’s had breakfast?” Ingrid asked checking she heard right, knowing you must be feeling at least slightly better if you’ve eaten.

“Sí, call me if you need anything, I need to go, te amo,”

“Jeg elsker deg,” Ingrid replied, before getting up out of your bed, going to get her phone before walking into the living room.

“God morgen,” you said as you saw Ingrid walk into the living area.

“God morgen,” she replied as she sat down on the couch, “your bed makes it so hard to wake up,” she groaned as she rubbed her eyes, and blinked harshly, trying to wake up more.

“See, it’s not me, I think it’s problem is that it’s too comfortable,” you quipped, as you laughed at her slightly.

“Do you want anything? Need anything?” she asked, getting up to fetch her breakfast.

“No thank you,”

“You sure? You don’t need more meds?”

“Mapi gave me some, it doesn’t really hurt anymore anyway,” you said as she spooned some of her breakfast into her mouth, meaning she could only raise an eyebrow towards you. “It doesn’t hurt as much as last night,” you replied and Ingrid nodded, having gotten the reply she wanted out of you. You hated the concept of pain, you’d always struggled with accepting you were still in large amounts of pain. In your brian the pain you were experiencing now was nothing compared to last night, meaning you weren’t really in pain, however your parents, and now even Ingrid and national team coaches (and most likely soon the Barça coaches) were trying to challenge that idea, you were in pain, it was pain, no matter whether it was less than before.

“About last night-” Ingrid started, however you cut her off, “I’m sorry for upsetting you, it’s not your fault, and I do know you care about me, and sorry for making you feel guilty for your phone not going off,” you blurted out.

“Skatt, it’s not your fault either, I need you to know that. They only wanted you for football and that’s how they treated you, it’s going to take time for you to let go of that. But I want you to know, you are so much more than football to us. You come first, not football. I promise,”

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen imagine #mapi león x reader #mapi león imagine #mapi leon x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #fc barcelona x reader #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni imagine

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thaliagracesgf · 7 months

Text

i get a boyfriend

part two of the casual series! (requests are in progress, i just churned this out because it is my baby)

warnings: making out and luke being cocky asf

wc: 1.2k

the sun streamed through your eyelids in the morning. you shifted in bed, cozying up in rebellion. you really did not want to get up. you felt luke behind you, starting to move, and you closed your eyes. you knew he wouldn’t be able to wake you up just yet.

his head finds the crook of your neck, and his curls brush against your face. you’ve never felt so safe.

“jesus christ,” you’re rudely disturbed. you keep your eyes shut. maybe beckendorf will leave.

a knot grows in your stomach as luke grumbles from behind you. “fuck off, man. i was sleeping.”

“yeah. i noticed.”

“what are you doing here? this isn’t your cabin,” he said, sleep evident in his low voice.

“yeah, isn’t hers either. so are you two a thing now? you finally hook up last night? what’s the sitch here, because silena needs her update.”

with that, luke pulls himself up. “shut up, man.” he looks down at your ‘sleeping’ face, hoping you didn’t hear. “have some respect.”

you did hear, of course, and at first it did make you feel gross, but the ‘finally’ catches you, and you remember that luke wants you. he isn’t jack, who just wanted to fuck somebody, he’s been waiting, and yeah, the older kids at camp sometimes fuck. it’s relieving to realize that beckendorf doesn’t know about last night— he would never had said that if he did. besides, luke’s attempt at a defense, though hampered by his sleep-addled brain, is adorable.

“i’m just saying! don’t act like you haven’t thought about it. every person in this godforsaken camp can see it, ’cept maybe her.”

“can you seriously fuck off? i’ve got my girl, don’t make it my problem that you’re scared of yours.”

you laugh softly at that one. you don’t open your eyes, but you can feel luke freeze behind you. beckendorf doesn’t notice, but your gig is up anyway.

“your girl?” you mumble, a smile crossing your lips. beckendorf stifles a laugh.

“alright, i’m heading out! good luck with this one, man.” you open your eyes, and even as they’re adjusting to the light in the cabin, you swear you can see him wink. you’re not sure which one of you it’s to.

“die,” luke calls after him, throwing his head back on the pillow, but pulling you into his chest.

“hi.” you say, still facing away from him, and he tucks his head into your neck again.

“hi.” luke says.

you turn yourself over to look at his eyes. they’re such a deep brown. he tilts his head forward. you smile. you let his lips graze yours.

it’s exactly like it was when you were fourteen, and a million times more. he’s soft and gentle, pulling back between each kiss. your arms move around his neck, his wrap around your waist. you’ve never felt so secure in your life.

but you have to pull away. “i— i…” you start.

luke sits up. “i’m sorry,” he says. “i’m so sorry. fuck, that was so stupid of me. i’m so sorry, gods, what was i thinking?” he ran his hand through his hair. it was adorable. you reach out to his arm. (gods, he’s jacked). you wish you had allowed yourself to stare sooner. you’d been depriving yourself.

“it’s okay, luke. it was…it was really nice.” it seems like such a cheap thing to say, and by the look on his face, it wasn’t all that convincing. “i’m not… this is just a lot to process.”

“in what way?” he probes. you aren’t used to people asking questions. usually hannah just stares you down until the words come out of your mouth.

“i mean,” you try to word it in a way that won’t set him off. “it would be kind of shitty to jump into anything, right? after what happened with jack?”

luke gives a contemptuous look at the mention of his name. “no,” he scoffs. he’s still sitting up, looking down at you lying in his bed. you figure it might be a bad time to tell him how badly you want him to kiss you again.

“well, i don’t know. doesn’t it look like i’m just hopping around from guy to guy?”

“ok. first of all, i’m pretty sure there are only, like, four people who know about you and jack. second of all, at the risk of sounding like an absolute dick, aren’t you supposed to be in love with me or something?”

you gasp. “what the hell?”

he grins. “it’s just what i’ve heard. you know what the camp gossip mill is like.”

you groan, hiding your face in your hands. “this is so not fair.”

and he laughs, he really laughs. “how is it not fair?”

“you are such a dick. this is so embarrassing. i’m going to kill you.”

“you seem pretty content under those blankets for someone plotting a murder.” you look through your fingers. his smile is so, so, unbelievably cute. “how is this not fair?”

“because you totally know everything and i don’t know anything.”

“okay. what to you want to know?”

“shut up. die. i hope you drown today.”

“are you really going to make me say it, jack-jack?”

“i hate you.”

“i like you.” you go quiet. “i really, really like you. i think i’ve had a crush on you since we were fourteen. and i fucking love you. not like we already say everyday. like i think i’m actually fucking in love with you.”

he lays down beside you. you’re facing away from him, so he traces swirls on your shoulder.

you turn to face him, and for a second he has the decency to look nervous.

you narrow your eyes at him. “so how do you really know i’m not just in this for the sex?” and he bursts out laughing. and before you know it, you’re laughing with him. and he loves the way your eyelids almost close when you do.

“i wouldn’t blame you if you were,” he grins.

“well, who are you hooking up with these days? i’ll have to see if you have good reviews.”

“good luck with that, it might be difficult.”

“what, like you’ve never hooked up with an aphrodite girl after a bonfire.”

he shakes his head, and you’re honestly stunned. luke castellan, the most gorgeous boy on long island, is a virgin?

“i mean,” he starts. “it’s not like i haven’t had offers.”

“oh, shut up, you asshole,” you try to turn away from him, but he wraps his arms around you, and at his next words you freeze.

“but i was holding out hope that it would be with you.”

fuck. that was really hot.

you look up, into his eyes. “i hate you,” you roll your eyes.

“i love you,” he murmurs, his eyes on your lips.

this time when he kisses you, you’re never letting him go. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him atop you. it takes everything in you not to roll your hips into his, but you don’t stop yourself from reaching down his torso to find the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, and running your hands along his stomach. fuck, you think for the second time that morning. he’s jacked. he smiles into the kiss, and you know you’re stroking his ego right alongside his abs.

“so,” you say, biting your lip as his trace your jaw and neck. “what was that about ‘your girl’ earlier?”

you’re expecting a sly remark, a grin, or something. instead, he doesn’t hesitate—“be my girlfriend,” he almost moans. “please.”

and you don’t have it in you to leave him waiting.

“okay,” you whisper.

#pjo x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke pjo #percy series

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