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#i actually made my own stomach flip writing this
mushiewrites · 2 months
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Ok, I went a little crazy thinking about this
Dream would absolutely loose his mind, stuck on his side, hogtied, cause there is absolutely no way he can protect his poor tummy, especially if his ler is sat behind him, holding him on his side so he can't roll on his front.
I can imagine Sap and George taking full advantage of this opportunity, not having to worry about accidental injuries caused by flailing.
"Can't take it cutie~?" You don't really have a choice~"
okay this. this has been sitting here for a while because Reasons <3 but holy cow. this concept? chefs kiss. dreams poor tummy 🫠
he'd have no way to escape or block anything...he's just completely at their mercy....
just imagine it.
somehow, george and sapnap convince dream to let them tie him up. they dont tell him how, but they give him the biggest puppy dog eyes and beg him nicely, praising him and telling him how he's always so good for them, and how much fun they have playing with him. and dream folds almost instantly. he can't say no to them, he loves them so so much!
and now he's on his side, hands behind his back, legs bent up and all four limbs tied together. sapnap is behind him with a grip on the rope, holding it down against the bed and preventing dream from turning over to block his now very open and vulnerable tummy. he whimpers when george appears in front of him, slowly lifting up his shirt and giggling nervously when he feels the cool air hit his skin
"what do we have here?"
and before dream can ask what george means, he feels light fingers tracing over his scar above his right hip. he jolts forward, a squeal flying out of him before he can stop it. sapnap uses his free hand to grab onto dream's right elbow, pushing down on it slightly to keep him still as george explores the dark purple lightning bolt along dreams skin. and strangely enough, dream has never been subjected to such light tickling there before. and it's...devastating, to say the least. he's thrashing as much as he can in such an immobilizing position, twitching his torso forward and back, moving his hips from side to side with the little leniency he has. but it's no use - george's light tickling just keeps going and going. and finally, when the fingers stop tracing, he's able to take in gulps of air. he thinks it's over.
then he feels fingertips tracing his lower tummy. he knows hes fucked. dream screams out when george circles the middle of his tummy, pleading and begging for the tickles to stop. but does george stop?
absolutely not.
george just giggles and adds his other hand into the mix, now squeezing up and down his sides as dream cries out in a panic. george moves his fingers over the sides of dream's tummy and it makes him shriek, and now he's really moving between the two. sapnap sits up on his knees and leans his body weight over dream's limbs, successfully stopping him from moving at all. now george is free to explore the rest of dreams tummy, paying close attention to the edges of his bellybutton as he traces a finger around it. dream is in shambles. he has tears in his eyes and his face is bright red from laughing so hard. he can't plead, he can't beg, he can only laugh and laugh and laugh as his poor little tummy is tortured with tickles.
they're both teasing him, telling him how cute he is, pointing out how awful it must be to not be able to move, to be stuck, forced to take the tickling.
"look at him trying to get away, sapnap! he's so cute, thinking he can escape!"
"where are you trying to go, cutie? you're stuck here with us - you're stuck with the tickles."
"his tummy is jumping! that must mean he likes it!"
then george changes tactics. he goes back to lightly tracing over dream's lower tummy again, and dream is near hysterics. george know's he can't possibly take much more, but there's no safeword said, and he's always one to push the limits anyway, so he continues.
george finds the spot just above his hips and presses his thumbs in deep, making slow circles and driving dream to silent laughter. not even a second later his safeword is called, and finally the torment is over. sapnap works on untying him while george runs a hand through his hair, praising him and cooing over how good of a job he did, how well dream took the tickles, how good he is
dream's curls are a mess from flailing and shaking his head against the sheets. his cheeks are wet with tears from his laughter, and george uses both thumbs to wipe them away, rubbing soothingly under his eyes on his upper cheekbones. when he's finally untied, sapnap and george rub where the rope was securing him, gently soothing his wrists and ankles with gentle touches and plenty of kisses. this of course sends dream into light giggles, and the two can't help but pull him in a big cuddle pile, continuing to play with his hair as they hold him close. they take turns kissing his cheeks, his temples, the top of his head - anywhere they can to make him blush. they trace over his back, and within minutes dream is asleep, too exhausted to threaten the revenge they both know is coming.
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kaizokuniichan · 9 months
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What You Want
Roronoa Zoro x AFAB reader
Summary: You have a tendency to slip into Zoro’s bed every time you drink. For some reason he lets you keep on doing it
This is the absolute longest fic I’ve ever written in my life. I don’t know how it happened, I just let my hand take the lead. Apologies for any weird formatting, I was forced to write this on my phone.
Warnings: alcohol use, unprotected vaginal sex, oral, light choking, slight degradation, use of “good girl”, nipple play
Word Count: 5.6k (😰)
MDNI; 20+ readers please
(Divider by @cafekitsune )
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Sometimes you had this nasty habit of slipping into Zoro’s bed when you drank. You didn’t know why, it was just something you did.
The first time it happened you’d been so inebriated that your stumbling around had resulted in you tripping over a pair of boots, scrabbling onto the bed to break your fall, and flopping unceremoniously onto his legs. He startled awake and attempted to shove you off but your drunken delirium insisted that you were in your room and you had every right to be there. Exasperated, he rolled you off his knees and you eventually passed out by his ankles.
A mumbled apology came the next day during breakfast which he wordlessly waved off. After quickly gulping down his food, he grabbed his katanas and headed out the door. No other exchange about the matter was made.
The first time you slipped under the duvet, the dip of the mattress was what pulled him from his slumber. It was just enough for him to see you at the furthest edge of the bed, your head flopping onto the pillow and your soft snores soon following. You’d only slept for maybe 2 hours before you jerked awake, realizing where you’d mistakenly wound up again. You quickly gathered your shoes and pants that had been haphazardly discarded, and snuck out of the room.
The first time your bodies made contact, your back had been pressed against his. He hadn’t actually been sleeping much that night; you were unaware of his watchful eye as he looked over his shoulder at you. Subconsciously you knew something was different (still convinced you were in your own bed), a comforting wall of warmth bleeding in through the thin cotton of your tank top. He rolled his head back to face his side, eye growing heavier as he finally succumbed to sleep. When he woke a few hours later your spot was empty and cool, rumpled sheets slightly flipped back being the only indication that you’d been there.
A new thing started happening where you faced your front to him, inching closer to his bulky form. You’d ungracefully throw an arm over his waist, hot and clammy palm spreading over his abs. Sometimes, you’d swear a larger hand covered yours with a quick squeeze. But the thought never registered for longer than a second, sweet unconsciousness beckoning you soon after. Those nights his curiosity got the better of him, and he wondered what you looked like up close while you slept. As he turned under the weight of your arm still flung over him, he was met with your face half stuffed into the pillow, mouth open with a thin layer of drool dampening the pillowcase. As he adjusted himself to lay on his stomach, your body stirred and one of your eyes cracked open to stare back at him. He’d thought your focus would be foggy but you looked deep into him, down to his very bones. You held his gaze for what felt like hours under the calm nothingness that only existed during a night faring the seas, before you promptly sat up and hastened to exit the room as you always did; this time forgetting to grab the shorts and bra you’d carelessly tossed.
You knew he was aware of what you were doing but for some reason you couldn’t stop it from happening, and he wouldn’t stop you from doing it. You rationalized that the only reason he allowed it to continue was because he was just as intoxicated, sake vapors always permeating his clothes. It remained an unspoken thing between the two of you, the only acknowledgment being an amused look from him every time you took that first gulp of whiskey.
You wondered how no one else seemed to know, you weren’t exactly quiet anytime you stumbled into the men’s quarters. But then again they all slept like logs and you always managed to slip away before the sun could peak over the horizon.
Tonight was your birthday, and contrary to popular belief, you tended not to drink as much on this day, wanting to fully experience the joy and laughter with your beloved crew. A few glasses of bubbly and maybe a shot or two here and there, but not enough to put you on your ass.
Zoro had a good sense of your drinking habits, so he could tell you weren’t going as hard as usual. He wondered whether or not you’d be joining him in his bed tonight, seeing as how your mostly sober mind could possibly hold you back. His eye caught yours as it always did. Your skin was warm and glowing, cheeks puffed up from the ever-present grin plastered upon your face. It took Usopp, knocking into you and spilling his drink onto your shirt, to finally pull your attention away from Zoro as you screeched with laughter, chasing the sniper around the deck with a handful of cake meant to be smashed into his face.
Things finally wound down to lull as everyone crashed outside under the milky glow of the moon. Zoro looked around but couldn’t find you or either of the other girls anywhere, and deduced that you’d all probably left together. Oh well. Looks like he’d have the room to himself. Throwing Luffy’s arm off his cheek, he dusted off his pants and made his way back inside. His heavy footfalls echoed throughout the empty halls, wood creaking as the Sunny rocked him along. Finally arriving at his door, a fleeting image of you waiting in his bed, curled up under his sheets, crossed his mind. He quickly shook it off, knocking it back towards the huge pile of other non crew-like thoughts he had of you, and opened the door. Instead he was greeted by an empty bed, and as he closed the door, he quickly stripped himself of his clothes, and collapsed onto the mattress.
As you stood outside the door to the men’s quarters, you cursed yourself for your lack of self control. Your mind had now associated any amount of drinking with sleeping in Zoro’s bed, and that revelation had caused you to lie awake with a mysterious insomnia. After an hour of tossing and turning, your body had gotten up and your feet lead you, seemingly of their own accord, to wherever they wanted. And now here you were at his door, fully cognizant of what you were doing. Your knuckles turned white from your hand’s grip on the doorknob, and you tried to gaslight yourself into believing that you were actually drunker than you thought. This was a perfectly normal thing that you always did.
Pushing the door open you found Zoro in his bed, asleep as always, positioned in a way that was normally reserved for napping. Laying on his back, he looked luminous under the shafts of moonlight filtering through the window. Arm under the pillow behind his head, his bare chest rose and fell in a slow and steady rhythm, his soft snores tumbling from his parted lips. Your chest tensed and you stilled. You hadn’t expected him to look like that . Normally he was more of a misshapen lump under the blankets, but tonight his body looked almost as if it was offering an invitation to you. You tiptoed closer, using a few moments to take him in. With sheets rumpled at his waist, you had a clear view of his torso, which rippled with bunches of muscles beneath the skin. His jawline was as sharp as ever, head tipped back to reveal a clear line between it and his neck. He was so achingly handsome it made you gasp, chest tightening even more as you wondered how the hell you’d survived sleeping next to him during the past few months without melting completely through the floor. Liquor really did seem to have a dulling effect on your nerves. After a quick mental battle of building up your nerve, you finally lifted the covers and slipped beneath them, inching closer and closer until you were almost touching. After a few moments of admiring the wrinkle between his thin brows, you settled more comfortably into the pillow and finally dozed off.
It couldn’t have been more than an hour long nap before your dreams melted away. Something was different. You’d fallen asleep on your stomach but instead of a firm mattress beneath you, you were angled on your side and there was a portion of a body pressed against your chest. You wiggled your fingers and felt the taut skin of someone’s pec, and your leg was thrown over the large, corded muscle of someone’s thigh. This couldn’t be right. You didn’t have any current situationships on your roster that justified this level of intimacy. Embarrassingly, your body wanted to welcome the comfort with little resistance. But your mind and your body were always at war, and your flight instincts kicked in as you planned to rip yourself away and slink on back to your room. But just before you could remove yourself completely, a heavy arm you hadn’t realized was around your waist pulled you back against him. You looked up to see a mirthful smirk and a steely eye peering at you.
“Done using me like a hunk of meat?”
“What?” You croaked, heart anchoring into your gut.
“You’re cutting our time short, usually you stay longer than this,” he continued with a poke at your side, grinning like he’d finally caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. And perhaps he had.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I came here tonight. I’m not even that drunk.”
“Yeah that’s the problem, you only seem to come around when you’re drunk.”
Your mind whirled in confusion. Was that what this was about? Did you give the impression that you didn’t enjoy his company in any capacity other than when alcohol was involved?
“Zoro, I’m sorry if that’s how this is coming across, I don’t mean that at all, of course I like being around you-“
Your frantic excuses were cut short by his amused chuckle.
“You’re making this too easy. I knew it was gonna be worth it, messing with you tonight.”
His toothy grin irked your spirit and you thumped his chest in retaliation. Of course that’s where this was going, this was Zoro. Annoyingly perceptive and slightly mischievous, despite what most people thought of him.
“Why haven’t you told me to leave then? After all these months?”
“To be fair I did the first time, but you kept arguing that I’d actually snuck into your bed.”
The faint memory was promptly squished back into the deepest parts of your mind.
“Well…you still allowed it to continue. Why?”
He hummed as he scratched his chin, pretending to ponder.
“Dunno. Figured you had a reason.”
“What possible reason could that have been?”
Zoro’s arm, still around your waist, pulled you closer as he turned onto his side to face you. The dip in his tone made your skin erupt in goosebumps.
“Figured you wanted something from me.”
Breath caught in your lungs as to what he was implying.
“Like what?”
His brow arched with a knowing look, slipping a leg between your own and lifting yours higher around his waist.
“Something I’ve been wanting to give to you. If you want it.”
His eyes bore into yours, waiting for your next move. You hesitated a few beats before finally wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face closer.
“I want this,” you sighed, brushing your lips with his.
He smiled against yours, pulling you tighter.
“Finally.”
The kiss that followed was like an ocean storm, knocking you off balance in its undertow. The groan that settled in his chest sparked electricity in your veins, causing you to whimper. Your tongue met the seam of his lips and he curled his own around it, guiding and tangling them together. The sound of your lips smacking was unseemly, but you accepted it as proof that this was actually happening. Your mouths soon parted to catch your breaths, chests heaving in unison.
“Zoro…”
He grunted in response as he rolled you onto your back, groin settled against yours. You could feel the bulge of his arousal rub against your center, and your leg that had been draped over his waist remained hooked around him. His hand next to your head gripped the sheets as his mouth descended upon your lips once again, the hand on your waist pressed more firmly and made up and down motions against your skin. He caught your bruised bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, sucking it into his mouth until there was nothing left to give. You let out a whine and he moved to the side of your face, pressing his lips to your ear.
“I wanna keep hearing that tonight, you saying my name like that.”
Not waiting for your reply, his teeth came out to bite harshly into your earlobe. You yelped, helplessly rocking your hips against his. His thigh slid further between your legs until it met your wetness at your center, nudging to provide a place for you to grind against. His mouth continued to do sinful things to your neck and collarbones, taking note of which spots got you to squirm wriggle against him.
Eventually the hand massaging your ribs slipped under the hem of you shirt, lifting it up to expose your breasts. Wanting to see them before he felt them, he stopped himself from giving your pulse point another nibble to look at you properly. The unwavering inspection had you feeling shy as you made a move to pull your shirt back down.
“Don’t do that,” he ordered, grabbing your wrist to stop you, slamming it back down into the mattress.
Your chest continued to heave as you tried to quell your insecurities, hoping that he liked what he saw. Seemingly reading your mind, he tsked loudly.
“You’re such an idiot.”
“Huh?” You balked at him, utterly dumbfounded. That was definitely not the response you could’ve ever predicted to receive for providing him with a full display of your tits.
“You know how hard it’s been for me, letting you leave all of those nights?”
You had no reply prepared but it didn’t matter, any possible words would’ve failed you as his mouth latched onto your breast, tongue licking playfully at your nipple.
“Even watching you drool all over my pillows and snoring in my ear couldn’t stop me from wanting you.”
Annoyance tickled your temple, even as he sucked on the underside of your breast.
“I may have drooled once or twice but I definitely don’t snore.”
He looked up with a smile showing all 32 of his teeth before replacing his mouth with his hand to rub his thumb softly against the pebbled nub. A surprised gasp broke free from your lips. Sometimes you wondered if you were the type of person who could cum just from your nipples being stimulated. Maybe one day you’d test that theory.
“You and I both know that’s not true.”
You rolled your eyes, turning your head to the side, unable to argue with all of his pinching and prodding. His hand reached over to grasp your jaw, forcing you to look back at him.
“Stop being difficult or I won’t give you your present.”
Your teeth clicked with the force of your mouth snapping shut, making him snicker.
“Is that all it takes to get you to listen to me?”
“Yeah if that’s what’s always being offered. I can be good for that.”
“Hm. Greedy.”
“I’m allowed to be, it’s my birthday.”
His fingers smushed your cheeks together, but he made no move of keeping you waiting as his mouth continued it’s journey down your body, sucking on your skin and biting the softness of your tummy. Slowly he peeled down your sleep shorts, discarding them into the darkness. Immediately your knees knocked together but he pulled them apart to stare intensely at the large wet patch in your panties. This time you felt pride as you watched his mouth go slack, his eye flitting back up to meet yours, dark with desire. He hadn’t thought it would be this easy to get you worked up like this, you were normally so stubborn about everything . If only you knew what this was doing for his ego.
As he bent down to bite into the plushness of your thighs, you sat up to enjoy the visual of his face nuzzled between your legs. You’d never seen him look sexier than when he glanced back up at you, intense eye contact stealing your breath once more. He nudged his nose against the covered lips of your pussy and gave it a sniff, an unexpected moan rumbling in his throat.
“Fuck. Never imagined you’d smell this good.”
You were left speechless as he removed your panties, finally exposing you to the cool air. You gasped as his tongue poked out to taste the juices leaking between your lips, and your head fell back down as you whimpered. One of his hands kept your hips firmly in place while the other crawled up to resume dragging his fingers across your nipples.
His tongue curled along the seam of your entrance, serving him another moan of his name and a firm grip on his hair. Not being able to hold his composure, he dragged your body closer to drape your legs over his shoulders.
“You know, if you were thinking this was gonna be a one time thing, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
“Stop being mean,” you sighed, pulling his head closer to your untended wetness, “get on with my present now.”
His mouth kicked up into a smirk before he brought it back against you, tongue chasing the leaking juices before stuffing them back inside. Your nails clawed his scalp as he hummed against your clit, his tongue making practiced and precise traces along the bud. You were briefly brought back to a conversation you’d had with Robin where you wondered if the power that it took to fight with a sword in his mouth resulted in his tongue developing an unusual strength. As his tongue bullied it’s way inside and along your walls, you concluded that it had to be true, and you gave thanks to his three-sword style as if it had provided a favor specifically for you.
Zoro’s senses were saturated with the essence of you. Your plump thighs squeezed his head deliciously as he fucked you slowly with his mouth. Your hand gripping his hair made him growl, rubbing his face further between your legs, groaning at your continuous whines dancing in his ears. You were so wet, clenching around his tongue, he had to reach a hand into his boxers just to bring himself some relief. He was unbearably hard and the more your hips bucked in time with his movements, the more he had to squeeze himself at the base just to keep himself at bay. Thankfully, you seemed interested in watching him work, your half-lidded eyes and pouty, kiss-swollen lips being any indication. He liked performing for you, and silently praised your bold approval.
His hand still played with your nipples, and every swipe of the pad of his thumb had your hips jumping so fiercely, he knew he’d have to file that away for later. But now you were moving too much, and he had a job to finish. Taking both of your thighs still hanging over his shoulders in his hands, he folded your body in half so that all you could do was lie there and take everything he gave to you. His tongue, still darting in and out of you at a steady pace, began making languid swipes along your clit. Your panting became louder as he continued his teasing, sucking one of your lips into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.
“Zoro…Zoro…please don’t stop. Please.”
You were begging now, and that was good. He’d oblige you, of course. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he provided a combination of licks and suction, working in tandem as your whimpers climbed louder and more breathless until finally, everything crashed. You came into his mouth with a throaty wail, body convulsing in his hold. He continued to lap at your juices as you shuddered with aftershocks, steadily coming down with a weak whine. You eventually settled down with a sigh and he released your thighs, causing your lower half to flop back onto the mattress. You sat in silence still panting and spent, spread-eagle with him kneeling between your legs. You cracked your eyes open to look at him, shaking your head.
“You are an absolute demon.”
He grinned smugly in reply, fingers swiping along your lower lips.
“I didn’t hear any complaints.”
Zoro’s dick cried for attention, and he was normally too disciplined to be led by it. But as he pulled it free from his briefs and used your slick to lube himself up, he was thankful that tonight he was going to indulge. He stroked himself lazily, looking up when he heard your soft gasp.
“Fuck…me.”
You’d let the words slip before you could scoop them back into your mouth. The sight you were met with went absolutely mad, beyond your wildest imagination. Here was Zoro, big, wide, and powerful, looming over you with the muscles of his bicep flexing as he jerked himself to the sight of you. His face was still insufferably smug as he kept his pace.
“You good?”
“Hm.”
Your lack of reaction had him quirking his eyebrow, curious as to whether or not you had met your limit and were ready to conclude the evening.
“We can stop now if you want to-“
“I thought it was still my birthday?”
Both of Zoro’s eyebrows rose as your energy seemed to return and you watched him intently, hand still wrapped around himself. You sat up on your elbows and licked your lips before giving him those shiny, doe eyes.
“I want the rest of my present now,” you pouted.
It was Zoro’s turn to be speechless as you grabbed his waist and forced him to lie back down over you.
“Don’t get all shy on me now,” you murmured, sliding his briefs down to give his ass a squeeze. The movement had him bucking forward, his hand finally ripped away from his dick to catch himself from dropping all of his weight onto you. You continued tugging his underwear down until he leaned on his side and slid them off, flinging them aside. His free hand grabbed your shirt still bunched above your chest, and roughly slipped it over your head, tossing it to join the rest of your clothes. He brought a hand to you hip and slid it down slowly to your thigh, hooking it once more around his waist as he settled back over you.
“Still got time to back out sweetheart.”
Your chest stuttered as you felt him poke at your entrance. You carded a hand back into his hair while the other touched his cheek, thumb tracing his lips. You were so caught in the moment, your feeble mind unable to focus on anything other than him. The feel of his strong body against yours, his veiny cock gliding smoothly between your pussy lips, his head turning slightly into your hand, giving it a whisper of a kiss. You were too far gone.
“Zoro…”
“Tell me what you need.”
You brought your mouth to his for a long, soft kiss before you looked back up at him. God, you were so pretty. Maybe he was kinder than he thought because in that moment he would’ve given you absolutely anything.
“I want you to give me everything,” you said, and he was convinced you’d read his mind.
He released a breath and guided himself into you, squeezing his eye shut as he felt the immediate squeeze. You were still so wet from his spit and your own arousal, but your walls were tight as he hadn’t used his fingers to stretch you. You didn’t seem to mind as you pulled him close, and he shallowly pumped himself in and out, going slightly deeper with every roll of his hips. You relaxed more against him and it became easier for him to slip inside; you opened up so nicely for him. Your hips rose to meet his careful thrusts, and before he knew it he was completely and snugly sheathed inside you.
He’d underestimated how warm and tight you’d be, even after your initial orgasm from earlier. He had to stop and catch his breath, panting in your ear as he willed his body to calm down. It wouldn’t due for him to cut this prematurely. You were looking to get thoroughly fucked and he was the only one who was going to give it to you how you wanted. After he was done with you you’d never be able to crawl into anyone else’s bed ever again. He was going to mold your pussy so only he could fit.
You hadn’t stopped moaning since his hips connected with yours, and you began clawing at his back, begging him to move. Your body was hot and wound tight as if you hadn’t just cum earlier. He finally lifted his head from the crook of your neck and slipped a hand beneath your body to press it up to his.
“You gonna be good for me?”
“Yes,” you whimpered, limbs turning to goo.
Giving you another quick kiss, he shoved inside you and lost any last dredges of sanity. You felt unbelievable, gripping his cock in a way that wouldn’t let go. His hand sandwiched beneath you grabbed your ass, giving him leverage to slam back into you. His breath came out in heavy pants as he built a bruising pace, grunting and groaning into your ear.
Your hand still pulled at his hair while the other held onto his bicep. The force of his thrusts made your whole body bounce up towards the headboard, and the rhythmic squeaks of the bed were embarrassingly loud. You hoped nobody had woken up in search of the room you both were defiling. Your pussy ached and fluttered against him as he fucked you, his stomach flexing with every grind of his hips. He was so brutal and so mean you were sure he was going to put a hole through the mattress. Suddenly he dropped your leg and pinned both of your wrists above your head.
“Wrap your legs around me sweetheart.”
God, what could you do besides follow that voice? So sinful that it gnawed at your spine. You wrapped both your legs around his waist, and his thrusts became more slow and rough.
“You gonna keep taking it?”
“Ye-ah.”
He pressed you further down into the mattress, your endless stream of moans becoming stilted from the force of his pounding.
“You gonna let me keep stretching this pussy out?”
“Please,” you pleaded, eyes watering as he plowed away at you.
You were so pliant for him, allowing him to use you as he pleased. He was going to batter your pussy red until it was swollen. Taking both of your wrists in one hand, he rested his other around your throat.
“Yeah?” He prompted, asking for permission.
“Fuck Zoro , please, ” you begged, all stubbornness and shame flying out the window. He was going to be insufferable when he was finished with you, your right mind was already dreading it.
“I knew you were a nasty girl,” he smirked, squeezing lightly at the sides of your throat. Despite his obvious strength, his discipline helped him hold back when he needed to. Obviously he’d never seriously hurt you.
“Fuck, it’s so good,” you whined as he continued to slam into you. His grip tightened as he leaned down to press his forehead to yours.
“Turn around and get on your knees for me.”
The growl in his voice made you wetter, and you squeezed tighter around him. He released your wrists and throat, sitting back up on his knees. His dick slipped out of you and slapped against his stomach, glistening with your slick. Getting a proper look at it, he was just as thick as you’d thought, with a nice curve that was sure to scramble your brains from the new position.
“You gonna keep drooling over it or are you gonna let me fuck you properly?”
“You are such a dreadful man, I didn’t drool!”
“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” he sighed with impatience, grabbing your arms and manhandling you onto your stomach. You whined and cursed into the pillow while grabbing another to stuff under your hips. Keeping your weight on your elbows, you pushed your hips back, making a nice pretty arch for him. His palm met your ass with a loud smack, and you felt his teeth take a bite at your cheek.
“You’re the one that’s nasty.”
He tapped his dick against your ass a few times, watching the strings of his precum and your juices coat your skin.
“Yeah.”
Without any warning he shoved himself back inside you, covering your back with his body and pressing his palm into your lower back to deepen your arch. You continued to wail into your pillow as you shoved your ass back against him. He nuzzled his head along your shoulder and neck, cooing condescendingly in your ear.
“Aw, I know. The big bad man keeps treating you mean.”
“So mean,” you hiccuped, dragging out the end of the word as he picked back up his brutal pace. The slapping of his skin against yours was abhorrent, and absolutely erotic. You felt your thighs jiggle as he slammed his hips, the curve of his dick dragged along your walls, carving a space for himself inside you. The head suddenly bumped against that soft, fleshy patch inside, and you keened. This was gonna be it for you.
“Zoro…I can’t. I can’t hold on for much longer.”
He took sympathy on you as he licked and sucked at the back of your neck, hands fisting the sheets as his body continued to climb with yours.
“It’s alright, you can let go. You’ve been so good for me. My good girl.”
His words had you squeezing him so tight he thought he would choke, a stream of moans and curses escaping your lips as the pressure built tighter and tighter. One of your hands came down to circle your clit, fingers slipping over the absolute mess covering your pussy. You gave a few more weak grinds against his hips before everything snapped and you caved, orgasm pulling at every last one of your nerve endings, down to your toes.
Your cries were in time with the pattering of his hips, and he sat back on his knees to watch the ripples of your ass as it connected with his pelvis. You were such a messy, crumpled heap against the pillow, and you’d never looked more beautiful. His body begged him to let go and release, and he was going to listen to it.
“Where do you want me to cum?” His voice was strained, panting and breathless as if he’d been in a harsh battle. God you were really wearing him out.
“Inside,” you said weakly, voice muffled by the pillow you’d stuffed your face into. He chuckled to himself. You were always so greedy.
“Maybe next time sweetheart,” he teased, still managing to be a shit while his threads unraveled.
With great difficulty he pulled himself from inside you, your walls still trying to drag him back inside with a weak grip. Taking his cock in one hand, he looked at your ass still raised in the air, and pumped furiously until his will broke and he spilled, long ropes of cum painting your ass and your back.
His body collapsed on top of yours, knocking the wind out of you. You allowed him a few seconds to catch his breath as he groaned into your skin before you whined at him to get off. With a tired sigh he rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. You followed his lead, wiping the sweat from your face.
“I can’t believe. You just fucked me like that.”
He gave a half chuckle and glanced over at you.
“Hey I was just giving you what you wanted.”
You bit your lip as you stared back at him.
“Yeah, you did.”
He went to grab the sheets that had been kicked aside, and pulled you against him for a spoon.
“Zoro,” you protested, attempting to free yourself from his grip, “I can’t stay here. I’m sweaty, I’m gross, I’m covered in cum. Someone will find us.”
“I’ll wake up before anyone gets back,” he mumbled, pulling you closer until your back was flush against him.
“But my clothes, I’ll never find them under that sea of junk.”
“Just wear mine.”
“But…”
“Just shut up and go to sleep.”
Any strength left in your limbs depleted as he kept a boa-tight hold around your middle. His soft breaths fluttered against your ear, and you knew he had already slipped into sleep.
Tired and weak, you snuggled back into the curve of his body, pulling the blankets up to your chin as you allowed your final moments of consciousness slip away.
You prayed that no one had turned up to the other side of that door.
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writingsbychlo · 5 months
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SWEET LIKE SUGAR | (05)
summary; azriel is away on a mission, and you get an unexpected visitor. when he returns, you also get an unexpected surprise.
word count; 5988
notes; fun fact!! I got confused about which part I was on because I actually forgot all about the events of this part and started writing for part six before realising!! also the way this is months late... my bad, y’all. 
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Slumping a little further in the plush seat, your eyes scanned across the page before you for the fourth time. Finally, you’d settled on a book, after procrastinating it all morning. Then, you’d put it off with the excuse of cooking breakfast and eating, making a cup of tea… and then another. 
The house felt too big, too quiet, too light without shadows crawling in every corner. 
Azriel had been gone since yesterday morning, your first overnight alone without him as he did Cauldron knew what, Cauldron knows where, out in the world. He’d left early yesterday morning while you had still been asleep, waking you with a hand shaking your shoulder gently before the sun had even risen. Dressed in those same dark leathers, strapped head-to-toe with weapons, he’d mumbled about some sudden work from Rhys, and that explanation, along with a delicate kiss on your forehead, had been all you’d gotten. 
It had half felt like some kind of odd dream, until you’d woken up, and the house had been far too still without his presence. 
He was due back tonight, and you were holding onto that, attempting to focus back on your book. Three hours. Only forty pages in. 
You’d hardly made it two more pages, before there were footsteps on the creaky porch, your heart rate shooting through the roof, and a knock. A knock. Azriel wouldn't knock on his own front door. Matter of fact, Azriel would have likely just winnowed right to the door, not walked up the porch. 
On light steps, hoping whoever was on the other side couldn't hear you, you peeked up through the hole in the door, noting Elain standing on the other side. You barely knew her, recognising her only from the first dinner you’d shared with Azriel’s family, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of her. 
Clicking the door open after only a second or two of hesitation, she offered a beaming smile when your eyes met. 
“Hello, Elain.”
“You remember my name!” Her smile somehow only stretched wider, and it was like the sun itself seemed to get brighter as she did. You wanted to scoff. Did it just do that, or was Lucien out there somewhere, glowing every time she smiled? 
“Uh… Azriel isn’t here.”
“I know.” She waved a hand, as though that was supposed to be obvious in some way, following it up with a giggle. You wracked your brain, stumbling over every piece of information Azriel had given you on them all over the last couple of weeks. Seer. Elain was a seer. Had she seen Azriel leave and chosen this moment to approach you? “I’m here to see you.”
Apparently so. “Why?”
“I was thinking we could go for a walk in the public gardens together.”
“Why?” The word spilt out again, and she laughed, cocking her head to the side. “I’m, sorry, I don’t— I don’t mean to sound so rude. This situation is just unexpected, that’s all.”
“I know. I would have come sooner, but I was waiting for Azriel to be gone because he’s been playing defence about who gets to see you and when. He growled at Rhysand last week for asking how things were going.” Your stomach flipped at that, flopping in on itself and you rubbed a hand over your ribs slowly, hoping to steady the beating of your heart. “I’m not here for Rhysand, just to be clear. I’m not here for anyone, not even Az. I’m here for me, because I’d like to get to know you.”
“You want to get to know me?”
“Of course. You’re going to be around for a while—”
“I am?” She merely hummed, brows raising a little as humour shone in those doe-eyes, and your cheeks heated. “Seer, right. Of course. Do you want to come in for lunch or something, then?”
“I was thinking we could go for a picnic.” Nudging one delicately slippered foot out from under the hem of her dress, she nudged a picnic basket at her feet with her toes, and you shifted nervously from foot to foot. “It’s a nice day, and the Velaris Gardens are just beautiful. I volunteer sometimes, and I must say, the flowers this year are breathtaking.”
“Alright,” She was like a puppy, someone you just couldn't say no to when she stared at you with those big brown eyes, only seeming to light up more when you finally agreed. Leaving her standing on the porch for no more than a few minutes, you marked the page in your book, swapped out your loungewear for a summer dress and some sandals, and grabbed your keys. 
She had been right, the two of you were barely more than a few steps down the sidewalks before the golden rays of the sun truly began to soak into your skin, warming you. It was a lovely day. Hopefully, the sun was shining on Azriel too, wherever he was.
The streets of Velaris were crowded as the pair of you ventured closer to the busier parts of the city, your workplace was packed full, the tables outside almost overflowing, and one of the waitresses you’d come to know waved as you passed by, flustered and carrying a tray of drinks. 
Children were playing in the streets, darting from one side to another. Adults were wandering, lovers arm in arms, and friends gossiping. Here you were, wandering alongside Elain, who was humming a tune gently to herself under her breath. Only once you had entered the gardens, the kind old man at the front gate greeting Elain with a smile and a hug, did she speak up once again. 
Her tune came to an end as the two of you were walking down the main pathway, weeping willows curtaining on either side, birds chirping overhead and fluttering between branches in the trees. 
“I'm happy Azriel has you, you know.”
“You might be the only one.” Your words were bitter, harsh, and you wanted to bite them back in, still not entirely sure where you stood with Elain or to what extent you could trust her, but she only laughed again. “Apologies, that was…”
“Don’t worry.” That casual hand wave again, the metal bracelets on her wrist clinking as she did. One held a sun, another with a moon, a third gold band with an orange gem, and a fourth with a metal tag on a leather band, an engraving too small to make out. “Although, it’s not true. Nesta talks very fondly of you, and while Feyre might not speak up as often, she does not approve of the way Rhysand treats you.”
“Nesta is great. I shouldn’t have said that. And of course, I was out of turn to imply anything at all about the High Lord and Lady. I do—”
“Please, none of those formalities.” She stopped suddenly at the end of the pathway, aiming to turn neither left nor right, but instead stepping out onto the large field before you both, wildflowers cropping up, wandering across the soft ground and leaving you to trail through the grass behind her. “Rhysand can be a stubborn arse when he chooses to be, and Cassian is merely being bull-headed. Mor could be a swaying hand if she chose to, but she’s actively staying out of it, to let things play out on their own. Amren is… well, Amren.”
She had managed to coax a laugh from you, despite your wary mood, and she seemed to stand a little taller at the triumph. Finally finding a spot she liked and placing the basket down, Elain opened it up to pull out a blanket, flapping it out into the light breeze and laying it on the ground slowly. She sat on it, patting the space beside her for you to sit on, and opening the basket only when you had. 
“I brought several sandwiches, because I wasn’t sure which you’d enjoy.” She began to unstack each labelled and wrapped meal portion, laying them out around you both until the blanket was covered in food and treats, a wine glass in your hand as Elain filled it with bubbling grape juice. “I try not to drink as much these days.”
It seemed the two of you had moved on from whatever conversation you’d been having, and no matter how much you wanted to circle back around to it, it felt rude to do so when she was clearly leading the chat. She was rubbing a hand over her stomach with contemplation, and you swirled the bubbly drink in your glass. “Are you… are you trying for a baby?”
Her hair glinted in the sun as she tipped her head back, eyes closed and smiling at the sky. “We’re thinking about it. Nothing concrete yet, but, I know Lucien desires children. I do too. We aren’t putting any kind of timeframes on anything, but we’re getting into some good habits and lifestyle changes now.”
“I wish you both the best of luck,” 
She only hummed, again, a contemplative sound that seemed so wrapped up in mysterious and knowledge that it made your skin itch. To distract yourself, you took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning over the food options before you as she sighed and pulled herself back from whatever thoughts she had lost herself in. “My happiness with my mate now is so much due to Azriel.”
It was like a ball, bouncing back and forth between the walls, getting faster and faster as she whipped from the topic of Azriel to anything else, like she couldn't decide between acknowledging the elephant in the room or ignoring it. 
“I’m happy he has you.”
“So you’ve said.” You smirk, settling on a sandwich at last and unwrapping it. 
“There was a while when I thought I might be his happy ending, and he might be mine.” Your chewing slowed, and your focus fixed on her. You weren’t sure why she was saying these things, revealing things about his past or her own, whether it was some kind of game or not. She seemed to read all of this on your face, sitting up more fully to face you, legs crossing before her. “He never fought for me the same way he fights for you, though. Like he can’t help himself. What we had was hidden away and sneaking around in the dark. It was wrong for us both, I see that in hindsight, but with you, he doesn’t hide you. It’s like he wants the whole world to know you’re at his side.”
The food was like trying to swallow a mouthful of cottonwool, choking it down dry and wincing. “I don’t think what we have is the same. What you had must’ve been… well, like a real relationship. You do understand what me and Az have is more like an agreement, right?”
“Are all relationships not just agreements to be together, monogamously?”
You sipped at your drink, buying time to find a reply as she tucked into her own food, surely knowing she’d won this round. “Relationships are different.”
“In what way?”
“In every way!” You said, and she still only managed to look mildly amused, waiting for you to go on. “Relationships shouldn’t start the way ours did, for the intent of mutual benefit and gain. They’re supposed to be about passion and feelings and connection.”
“And do you not have passion, or feelings, for Azriel? Is there no connection?”
“What we have is complicated.” You didn’t know how to define it at all, everything that was shifting and changing so thoroughly was enough to make your head spin, and her mumble only confirmed that she knew she had the upper hand here. “How did Azriel help you to find Lucien if you were… together?”
“Oh, no, we were never together. We snuck around at night and shared heated looks across the dining room table. I wanted to choose my own path for once, not the one everyone was telling me I should be on. The one that led to Lucien. And Azriel, well, he just wanted someone. I wasn’t the right someone, I was just there.” That didn’t answer your question, not at all, but it seemed that if you were going to get the reply you wanted, it was in return for listening to the whole story. “We had stolen moments in dark corners, and Rhysand warned us off one another, put a stop to what likely would have ended in tragedy.”
“Seems like the High Lord is fond of telling Azriel who he can and cannot be with.”
“He had a sister once, you know.” The words struck cold, and you stiffened. Of course, you knew. Everyone in Prythian knew. Had heard of the tragedy before the first war, when the Lord of Night had lost his wife and daughter, leaving only the Prince who would soon take the throne. “She fell in love with someone who she shouldn’t have, someone who betrayed her in the end,”
“Should you be telling me this?”
“—and it broke him for so long. I had no idea about any of this until Feyre told me. He watched his sister get her heart broken before she lost her life, and watched his mate fall for Tamlin and get hurt. He watched Mor hide such an important part of herself and get hurt for centuries. He even watched Lucien pine for me while I was too blind to see him. He has watched love break and harm over the years, watched people abuse those feelings and use them for their own gain. He knows that need for touch more than anyone, and knows the price companionship can cost.”
“Elain,” The food was beginning to taste like ash, this was becoming more of a petition than a chat. “I understand that. I know he’s suffered too, I know he’s felt pain, and I’m sorry for that. But that doesn’t excuse him for his cruelty. It doesn’t excuse him for stopping Azriel from finding happiness. He cannot control everyone around him, no matter whether his intentions are good or not. Other people’s happiness is not his responsibility, and not his right. What, only mates are allowed to be together? Do you know how rare it is to find your mate? Azriel has waited five hundred years, he may never find his mate, but does that mean he should never be allowed to know happiness because Rhysand decrees it?”
She stared at you, lips pursed for a long moment, considering all that you had said. And then, instead of getting angry, or yelling, or defending them further, she smiled. She nodded her head and something passed over her face that you couldn't possibly decipher. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Azriel would have fought for me, if I had asked him to. I’m sure I could have put up a fuss about it, but when he was told to stop, he did. That rejection…”
“Led you to Lucien?”
“Gods, no. It made me so angry. Azriel just rolled over and showed his belly because Rhysand snarled. I was mad, beyond words!” Your laughter broke free, surprising you both, until you were laughing together amongst the flowers. “He would barely look at me, wouldn't talk to me at all if not for polite dinner conversation. I’d gone from someone he’d feel up in dark corners to acting like I had a disease!”
“That’s awful!”
“I know! So, I wanted out. I was so stifled. I managed to persuade Rhysand to send me to the Human Lands for a while, to track down some information. Except, of course, I couldn't go alone. I needed an escort, and who better than the Emissary to the Human Lands?”
“This was Lucien?”
“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes, slipping away into her memories, a smile forming on her face. “Gods, he drove me insane. He was there all the time when I’d just been pulled from the Cauldron, like a lost puppy. So full of adoration and love. I was expecting that, but that’s not the Lucien who showed up. The one who showed up was so… nonchalant. Like the bond between us didn’t exist, we were friends, more like mere partners on a task. I even made a drunken move on him one night in a gross tavern far from The Wall, and he turned me down! Put me to bed and left a glass of water on the nightstand for me. Acted like it never happened in the morning.”
“Oh, Gods…” Your snicker bought you a mock glare from the flowery female beside you.
“I was even angrier, then. It was like nobody wanted me! So, when I returned, I gave Azriel a piece of my mind. And he let me yell at him for twenty minutes. And then awkwardly held me while I cried for another twenty.”
“Does this story have a happy ending? Well, I guess I know it does,” You offered her stomach a pointed look, “But when do we get there?”
“Fine, fine,” She rolled her own eyes now, “To keep it short, Azriel then offered to help me with Lucien. Managed to trick Lucien into going on our first date, a blind-date set-up, and wouldn't let him leave when he tried to. He then continued to help me sneak around with Lucien behind everybody’s backs, until we were ready to come out with it.”
“When was that?”
“Two weeks before we got married.” You fell to your back, laughter like light spilling from you at that, and she continued to share the details of everyone’s reactions through giggles of her own. “I’d seen all their responses, and I wanted to avoid them as long as possible! That was the last time I ignored my visions to try and put them off. What I see will happen, it's only a matter of time. I can’t avoid it.”
“That must suck for surprise parties and gifts.”
“Maybe, but it was pretty good to see you coming.” She smiled, laying herself down beside you and staring up at the sky overhead. “We will be good friends, you and I. I’ve seen that too.”
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You were preparing dinner when you finally heard Azriel arrive. The scuff of his boots on the porch, the rustle of his wings as he entered the house, and then—
Then the slam of the front door. So loud and violent that the house shook a little, trembling the trinkets in the hall that sat on the side unit. You tensed, hearing his loud huff of frustration. Shadows whipped and whirled through the house, a few even making it as far as you were in the kitchen, and you followed them, peeping around the threshold before they were all snapped back in a hurry to their owner. 
You saw his retreating back, stomping up the stairs of the house, tense lines and rigid muscles, disappearing in a dark cloud from sight. Another slam made you jump, one of the upstairs doors closing with a bang. 
Silence filled the house once again, far heavier and more tense than it previously had been, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth. 
It didn't feel like you were welcome, like perhaps this was a moment you shouldn't intrude on. But, was this not part of the reason that Azriel had brought you here in the first place? To comfort him, and be his support?
Minutes ticked by as you contemplated the matter, before deciding that at least checking in on him couldn't hurt. If he wanted alone time, he’d say that, and you’d happily give it to him. The idea of leaving him alone in his suffering created a phantom pain in your chest, spurring you up the stairs and on a search for him. 
He wasn’t hard to find, darkness flicking around the doorway of the office, idle shadows striking like dark lightning bolts in the air as you opened the door, only to find Azriel hunched over his desk, wings tense behind his body. 
“Hi, Az. It’s good to have you home.”
He only murmured, a vague noise, not even lifting his head from his work as you stood in the doorway. You paced a little further inside, standing by his desk, hoping to catch a glance of those pretty caramel eyes, but he kept his head down. His pen never stopped moving across the paper, his shadows never stopped their stormy swirling. 
“I’m going to start making dinner soon, if you want to come down?” He didn’t reply, just a grunt, and you gave up, despite the worry filling you from head to toe. “Alright, well, you know where to find me.”
With that, you left, a pulse of power following you from the room within as soon as you clicked the door shut, back pressed to the wood on the other side. With a couple of deep breaths, you steadied yourself. It was only a matter of time before something came up, everything had been going too smoothly, too perfectly to last. Azriel was bound to snap under all that pressure at some point, and if this was that snap, you could handle it. 
Setting a chicken off to roast only took a couple of minutes, basted and seasoned and into the oven, enough of a distraction to pull your thoughts away from the warrior upstairs. It was as you were chopping vegetables that your mind wandered back, the mind-numbing task of slicing peppers and carrots made it easy for your thoughts to trail back to Azriel.
Still, he had not emerged. Not for food, or water, or even some space from that office. 
Setting the table didn’t help to distract you either, laying down plates and cutlery and glasses, choosing a bottle of wine and setting it out to air, even going so far as to set down some candles, searching for matches to light them. The house was all but vibrating with power not, steady thumps that occasionally jostled the cutlery on the table with powerful bursts. 
Whatever had happened today had Azriel so riled up that his power was all but leaking out, siphons doing little to control the feelings welling inside him now. You’d never known the true strength of his power. Of course, you’d heard of the High Lord’s brothers, the spymaster and the warlord, the three champions of a lethal death-match among young soldiers, who’d come out bonded stronger than ever, with power to match. 
Never, though, did you expect to feel the power like this. Feel his emotions ricocheting off of every wall, bouncing through the foundations of the house. Suddenly, it dawned on you just how mighty the ranks of the Night Court truly were, a chill settling into your bones at the thought.
One bad mod, one temper tantrum, and the building could simply crumble to dust. Street lamps would flicker, and animals would scatter. Too many thoughts, too much and all of it became overwhelming as the house continued to tremble to the steady pattern of a heartbeat. 
Blowing out the candles as the flames flickered precariously once again, you put them away, not daring to risk them tipping over and creating a far worse problem. You knew the scars on Azriel’s hands, he’d told you the story behind them on one of the many nights the two of you had lay in bed, wrapped in one another’s arms, seeking comfort. 
Or perhaps, it had been during stolen moments in the café, when Azriel would come to visit you, sitting and doing his work at one of the tables in the back. He’d take a break only when you’d bring him a fresh pot of tea and a pastry, sit across his lap and talk in hushed whispers during the quieter parts of your shifts before you had to get back to work. 
It could even have been one of your late-night walks, or early-morning strolls, while the streets of Velaris were quiet and mist-kissed. Your hands clasped together tightly, his wing shielding around you as you walked together, talking of everything and anything that came to mind. 
He’d told you quiet stories of his past, of his present, of his hopes for the future. All about little baby Nyx, Nesta and her journey to finding the Valkyries, what it had been like growing up in the camps, or all the best little villages and towns he’d visited on his worldly travels. 
Your heart had been doing crazy things, lately. Crazy, stupid things, like skipping a beat and speeding up and bursting with adoration for a man so new to your life. It did crazy things, like encourage you back up the stairs an hour later, to ignore the tremble in your hands or the wobble in your step, heart calling out to him. 
You’d tried to ignore the urge. To sit and read your book, until you’d read the same line over and over while not absorbing a single word, and giving up with a frustrated huff. You re-basted the chicken, and added the vegetables to cook, and even set off some potatoes to boil but all the while, as your body worked, your mind and heart lay with him. 
This time, you knocked as you entered, knuckles a soft rap on the door before you pushed it open. Magic thrummed through the air, calling you closer and pushing you away, and you found Azriel, still in the same uncomfortable position, working at his desk. His shoulders were locked and rigid, his head hung, hair messy from constant tangling, and you lifted a hand, brushing it slowly through his hair. 
“Azriel…”
He barely even acknowledged you, nothing more than a grunt tossed in your direction as you stood by his side, and a sigh broke free from you. His lips were turned down in a frown, dragging all of his pretty features into misery too, and you hated to see this side of him. Hooking your fingers under his chin, his writing came to a stop as you forced his head to turn, to look up at you. His eyes were dull, a spark of irritation and anger bursting through them as recognition and consciousness flashed back into his lifeless form. 
“Azriel.”
This time, a growl tore free, that frown becoming a snarl as he pulled back, gaze narrowing a little. “I’m fucking working. What do you want?”
You froze, staring at him, taking in the exhaustion under his eyes, the pain in his stance, the spinning thoughts you could practically see surrounding him, so much so it must be dizzying and painful. Dropping your hand back to your side, he only returned to work, not sparing you another thought as he chased to catch up with the ones already running him ragged in his head. 
Silently walking away, you left his door open, hurrying away from the scene and back to the kitchen. Taking the kettle in trembling hands and filling it up, you set that to boil too, a mug from the cupboard clacking as you set it down on the counter, throwing open the doors to the tea cupboard soon after. 
Your nervous fingers skimmed across the labels, searching the front of each one, and it was as you were holding two, undecided on which to choose— perhaps just brew them together?— that the air in the room shifted, and a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, tugging you back into a solid chest. 
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, face tucking into the crook of your neck, where he left a kiss to your skin. His hold tightened, squeezing you against his body as he slumped down into you. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Az.” You ran a hand along his forearm, banded around your body, feeling it loosen just a fraction as you squeezed. “I’m just so worried about you, I wanted to make you some tea to help, but I couldn't decide which one.”
At that, a whine slipped free from him, nuzzling deeper into your neck, another kiss, and another. Putting down the teas on the counter, you wiggled a little, managing to get him to loosen up just enough to turn in his arms. His forehead came to rest on your own, noses brushing, a sad frown on his lips as his eyes remained closed. 
“Az…”
“No more work. If I’m stressed to the point of snapping at you, then it’s too much. I’m sorry. You were just trying to help, and clearly, I needed the help.”
Looping your arms around his neck, he sighed, a happier sound as you scratched at the nape of his neck soothingly. “Stop apologising, Azriel. I appreciate it, but it’s unnecessary. I’m not angry at you, just concerned.”
“I like that you worry about me.” He whispered, deep voice running like honey as he bent enough to pick you up behind the backs of your legs, spinning you to place you onto the kitchen counter, and step comfortably between your thighs. “But you don’t deserve that kind of treatment. You deserve better. I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to let you go.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Az. I wouldn't be in this relationship if I was going to run. I can handle you, even when you’re not at your best.”
He only answered with a shaky laugh, hands smoothing up your thighs to sit on your hips, squeezing in a series of happy pulses. “We’re in a relationship?”
Elation was clear on his face, no denying it, at your choice of words, and you gave a little chuckle of your own, nodding against him as your noses came back to brushing together, heads resting on one another. Your conversation with Elain flickered through your mind once again, and you wondered if she had seen this, seen you give into her whims and silently admit she was right. If she’d seen this, you hope she picked up on your mental scowl, too. “Well, what would you call what we have?”
“I like ‘relationship’. I like it a lot, actually.”
Throwing your arms over his shoulders, they looped around his neck, and you pushed your face up a little closer to him. “We may not be conventional, Az, but I like what we have. I like our relationship. I think we’re perfect as we are.”
He didn’t need words to respond, not this time, not as his mouth sealed over your own in a gentle, tender kiss. The first kiss you’d ever shared, a timid one, his lips working slowly and cautiously over yours, giving you plenty of time to pull away. 
You didn’t want to, kissing him back with just as much tenderness and affection as he was showing you, pouring every feeling you had into it, to make sure he knew just how much you cared. Your heart was beating hard, fast, racing like a drum under your ribcage as you melted into his touch. One scarred hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing across your skin, in tandem with every stroke of his lips. 
You pulled back for breath, just to find yourself tangled back up in him, his tongue stroking across your lower lip, teasing the roof of your mouth as you opened up for him. A groan skittered across your tongue from him, a pant for breath, his hand slipping up under your shirt to sit on your bare waist as you tugged on the slight curls of his hair. 
When he pulled back, at last, your lips were swollen, your lungs burning in the best way possible, and your head was spinning so much you could barely focus. The world felt fuzzy at your touch, glowing and glittering as you stole a final kiss from his lips, his soft chuckle breaking it. 
“Am I still invited for dinner with you?”
“Yes. I’m making chicken and potatoes.” Your smile lasted only a second, before you were sitting upright. Time had melted away around you, disappearing into dusk outside beyond the windows, “Oh, no, the potatoes!”
Pushing him back and hopping down from the counter, he watched with a dazed, kiss-drunk expression as you rushed to the stove, taking off the pan lid and prodding at the potatoes with a fork. 
“I amend my earlier statement. We’re having chicken and mashed potatoes, because these have gone soft. Entirely your fault for distracting me.”
“I distracted you?” He mused, sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, tugging you back to kiss at your cheeks, trailing down toward your mouth. 
“You know you did.” His only response was a smile. Draining the potatoes was a challenge, what with Azriel plastered to your back like a new limb that served no purpose, and you had to elbow him off in order to finish the food. 
While he waited, he tinkered with the dining room table, pouring two glasses of wine and rearranging. When you turned, he’d dug out the candles you’d put away, lighting them with a match once again, and blushing as he laid them out. “I thought they’d be romantic.”
“I like them.” Your cheeks were equally as heated, smiling to yourself as you turned away to check the food. 
His distance didn’t last long, as you searched for a knife with which to carve the chicken, he was once again backing you into a counter, his mouth hungrily descending upon your own. Mutters of ‘waiting long enough’ silenced on your mouth as he dove into you, hands on your body once again, trying to tempt you up onto the counter. 
“Let me cook, you menace,”
“Just a few more,” Was his barter, and those few kisses passed more and more time, his lips like a high you had to chase, until only the desperate urge to breathe could pull you apart. “Gods, I love that. I love kissing you.”
“I can tell.”
He rolled his eyes, but his smirk stayed, unashamed of his newfound addiction. 
“We need to eat, you need food.”
“I have everything I need, right here.” He leaned in again, lips puckered, and you tipped your head his mouth finding the edge of your jaw, and he grunted unhappily at the action, but mouthed at your skin nonetheless.
“How about after dinner, we can go upstairs and do some self-care. I’ll show you all the fancy new creams and skincare I got. We can relax, and cuddle, and read.”
“And there will be more kisses?”
“There will most definitely be more kisses.” You promised, cupping his face and bringing him back for a final peck. 
“Then I think I can agree to those terms.” He stared, pulling back just enough to fully take you in. As the urgency in his expression died down with the promise that this affection was not a one-time deal, his face took on blissfulness instead. Running his knuckles across your cheek, his face softened even further as you leaned into his touch, cupping his hand and pressing kisses to his scarred fingers. “You… You are my moon, do you know that? You light up even the darkest parts of life for me.”
His words were like whispered oaths, something too heavy for you to fully comprehend but burned into your mind regardless, and you gave him a sweet smile back. “You are my stars, Azriel.”
“Really?”
“Every last one. Glittering and perfect in the night, full of mystery and hopes and stories. You are my favourite part of the night sky.”
Your heads rested together, dinner temporarily forgotten just for another moment or so, to bask in the revelations of the evening. 
Today, 
today changed everything for the better.
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thevoidstaredback · 20 days
Text
How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.
Not like him.
Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.
Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?
No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.
Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.
'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"
Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"
Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."
Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.
Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."
"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?
"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.
Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.
The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.
"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.
Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"
Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."
Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.
Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"
Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?
He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.
If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.
Part 3 Part 5
Tag List: @flame-343
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empress-simps · 2 months
Note
for remus, maybe a fic where he has a crush on fem!slytherin reader, and maybe the rest of the gang disapproves (at least initially) because of the silly house rivalry between gryffindor and slytherin? hopefully they’ll warm up to her because she’s actually really sweet and likes remus back, and they see how good for him she is :)
Hi darlingg! Thank you for this request, this is so adorable, and it was so fun to write :) I somehow made it a bit angsty...sorry about that I got carried away. Hope you enjoy! Pictures are from pinterest, credits to the owner!
Beyond The Surface
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Slytherin! Reader CW: Sirius being dramatic, Remus getting angry, and Language
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He never really planned to fall in love. Remus thinks it would be better if he just lives his life in solitude; away from the confusing and complicated world of romantic relationships.
He doesn’t think anyone should bear the responsibility of having a werewolf boyfriend. Remus wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he even touched a single hair on your body during that time, he desperately tries to convince himself that his friends and their future children will be enough to warm his heart who secretly yearns to have his own family.
‘It’s for the best, they wouldn’t suffer because of me.’ Remus thought, being the selfless person he was. Although, his plans that he so desperately tried to put up all came crumbling down when you came into the picture.
He didn’t think of it much at first. Remus thought it was just a simple crush that would go away in about three days or so. He was completely wrong.
“Remus Lupin, right? I’m Y/n Rosier, we’re assigned partners in potions.”
You sat beside him, beaming a smile that Remus was certain you were a gift for him from the Gods above. Merlin- you were simply breath taking. That was the first time he felt butterflies on his stomach, feeling his cheeks heat up as you offered a handshake.
“N-nice to meet you, Rosier.” He took your soft hands into his rough, and scarred ones. Shaking it as he desperately tries to ignore the sparks that seemed to go off inside him. Your face grimaced as your last name rolled off his tongue.
“Y/n is fine.” Remus nods, noticing your reaction. He was wondering how someone like you managed to survive other annoying Slytherins as your housemates.
“Alright then, Y/n. Call me Remus, yeah?”
That marks the beginning of an unlikely friendship of a Gryffindor half-blood with a Slytherin pure blood.
“Shall we begin?”
“Alright, but you lead. My skills are no good in potion making.” He jokes, making a small chuckle escape your throat. “I am quite aware.” She teases.
Being partnered with him for a Potions project meant that you would often meet up in the library, spending long hours sitting beside each other in silence, flipping page after page as Remus occasionally puts back books but returning with 5 more.
“Remmy, look here.” You pointed, not noticing how Remus blushed at his newfound nickname as he leaned to your seat, placing one arm on the back of your chair, his tall frame nearly engulfing you as he reads the contents of the page you found interesting.
He suddenly pales, his eyes transfixed on the title of the page. “Wolfsbane potion…” He whispers, eyes scanning the page quickly before looking at you. You hummed, flipping into another page to see how to make the said potion.
“Right, I figured we should make this for our project. What do you think? I think Polyjuice potion is a tad bit boring, hm?” She mused, seeking his opinion on the matter.
Remus parted his mouth to speak, yet the words seem to vanish at the back of his throat. You shot him a worried look, “Do you not like it? You could say so, don’t pretend nothing is wrong, Remmy.”
He blinks, trying to compose himself. “Ah, no-nothing’s wrong. It’s just that…”
You raised your eyebrows curiously, urging him to continue. “What? You know someone who’s a werewolf?” She jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere as she lightly elbows him.
“I do.” He chokes out, the confession was unexpected, even to him. Remus doesn’t even know why on Earth he’s about to tell you one of his darkest and deepest secrets. It was probably because of your warm and inviting aura. It’s like you wouldn’t judge anyone based on first impressions, appearance, and what you’ve heard about them until you can see for yourself.
Remus felt like he could trust you, and his instincts are almost never wrong.
“Well, maybe the potion we’ll brew can help them?” You offered a smile.
“It certainly would be of help to me.”
You stilled; your hand that was about to get your quill hovered as you looked at him in shock.
“You’re a werewolf?” You whispered quietly; eyes that were surprised stared into his nervous, amber ones. Remus could only nod, an inkling doubt and regret slowly crept up to him. Did he make the right decision? Was he wrong this time? Would you hold it against him?
Your face turned serious, clasping his hand on the table with yours, you looked at him in the eye. “Your secret is safe with me; I would never tell it to anyone. If it helps, I will even make an unbreakable vow, Remus.”
He widened his eyes, “N-no! It’s alright, I trust you, Y/n.” You visibly relaxed, smiling lightly, squeezing his hand, a soft look was sent his way.
“Thank you for trusting me, Remus. If you’d like, I’ll brew you a supply of wolfsbane from time to time.”
If Remus wasn’t in love before that, he certainly is now.
“Out of all the people you could’ve chose to like it was a Rosier?!” Sirius screeched, a horrified look on his face as he grabbed Remus’s shoulder and looked at him straight in the eyes. The said boy frowned “What about it?”
Sirius blanched, “Are you daft, Moons?” He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the rest of the marauders and Lily, wanting them to side with him. Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line; she does not quite agree with Sirius but there’s still a possibility. It doesn’t help the fact that you are a Slytherin; the house that reeks of cunning pure-blooded wizards.
Peter looked anywhere to just not meet the eyes of Remus, clearly uncomfortable. While James frowned, a troubled look on his face as he clasped Lily’s hand. “The Rosier family… they’re not exactly known for their…,” he started, but Sirius cut him off.
“Rosiers are evil! Slytherins! Pureblood Supremacists! Death Eaters!”
Remus frowns, reading the room and the reactions of his friends. The message was clear without words: none of them supported Remus’s interest in a Slytherin, a Rosier no less.
“Give her a chance, she’s different.” Remus tried to make his friends listen to him. Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes. James sighed, looking at Remus. “Moony, it’s just… We never thought you would fancy a Slytherin.” Remus pursed his lips, “Yeah, I never thought you and Lily would end up together but here we are.” James grimaced at his words.
“There’s tons of girls who fancy you, Moony.” Peter tells him. Remus frowned, feeling annoyance stir inside him. “They’re not her, Wormtail. All I’m saying is that Lily and you blokes should give her a chance before you make assumptions.” He spat, glaring at Sirius before leaving the room.
“Rem? Mon amour, what’s wrong?” She frowns, placing her book down as Remus entered the library, heading straight to her usual place but the window. Remus sighs, shaking his head. He couldn’t possibly tell you what happened, how Sirius thought you were just those pesky Slytherins they pull pranks on.
“They do not like me.” She stated, looking down with a frown as she fiddled with her thumbs.
“Honey, it’s not your fault.”
“I know, amour.”
Remus felt his lips press into a thin line, gently taking your hands in his, trying to stop your nervous habit. “They’re still wrapping their heads around it. They’ll come around, don’t worry about it love.” You sighed shakily, “I hope so.”
Remus traced shapes across the back of her hand, “Anything interesting happened today?”
“Evan and I got into a fight; said I was a blood traitor…” You trailed off, noticing how Remus’s jaw tightened and his stare hardened. “But it was alright, we made up. He just told me to be careful.” To say Remus was surprised was an understatement. “He couldn’t be angry at his twin sister for a long time.” She smiles.
“Black! What the fuck did you do?!” Remus roars, grabbing a fistful of the said boy’s shirt, pushing him against the wall as James tried to pull him off, “Come on, Moons-“
“Don’t bloody touch me, James!” He bellows, pushing off the Potter boy who stumbled away, shock evident in his features. Peter quickly got up from his bed, “Moony, why are you so angry? What did he do?” He drops shoves Sirius off as he stared at his friends.
“It was you guys who pulled a prank on her right? “Remus’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, pointedly looking at Sirius. “Well congratulations, she’s being treated by Madame Pomfrey right now.”
Sirius felt shame and guilt ate him up. The prank was never supposed to go that far.
“Ever wondered why I was suddenly so calm during the full moon? It’s all thanks to her. She makes me batches of wolfsbane potion every month, without fail.”
James choked, “You told her?”
“I did”
“What if she tells everyone?” Peter frowns, concerned for Remus.
“If she wanted to, then the whole school would’ve already known, she even suggested an unbreakable vow.” Remus uttered out, sitting at his bed, looking away from them “Some kind of friends you guys are. I care about her, and if you hurt her, you hurt me too.”
Sirius cautiously approached him, “Moons, I’m sorry.” He began. James placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know, we’re knobheads. Sorry, Moony.” Peter nods, “We messed up, it won’t happen again.”
“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.”
“We will, Moony.”
An hour has passed after you got treated by Madame Pomfrey, you wanted to leave as you already felt alright but she insisted you stay for an hour or two just so she could monitor you. Having no choice but to oblige.
“Love?” Your ears perked up, the sound of Remus’ voice calling out to you. You turned and smiled at his direction, although suddenly dropping it as you saw the rest of the Marauders and Lily following him.
Trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, Sirius pulls out a bouquet of flowers. “Remus told us you like Tulips…” You were about to take it but stopped, James seemed to notice this. “It’s not jinxed, or anything like that.” You bit your lip, silently looking at Remus as if asking was it safe, he nods. “I was there when they picked it out love.” You finally took the bouquet, nodding gratefully. “Thank you.”
“We wanted to say we were sorry.” James started; Lily nodded. “It was quite shameful that we made such accusations and judged you before even getting to know you.”
“I’m sorry, Y/n. We…we were just looking out for Moony.” Sirius sighed; shame visible in his features.
“I understand, I probably would have done the same. I’d also look out for the people I care about.” You softly replied. “It’s okay, I forgive all of you.” You looked at them.
James stepped forward, “We hope you can give us a chance to make it up to you.” Sirius cleared his throat, “And maybe, if you’re up for it, join us for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?” His attempt at a smile was hopeful.
Your lips curved into a genuine smile, your body slowly becoming relaxed. “I’d like that,”
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backtothefanfiction · 8 months
Text
Professor Peter Parker
Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!
Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!
Word Count: 4.9k+
A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.
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First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.
You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.
You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’ 
You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world. 
You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.
‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.
You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-
“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.
SHIT!
DOUBLE SHIT!
You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!
You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?
“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.
You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’
8 HOURS EARLIER 
“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.
“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”
He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.
“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare. 
He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.
The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”
You frown. “Why Flower?” 
“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”
“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.
“Okay, then what can I call you?”
You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”
He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”
You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”
He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you. 
You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”
An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.
You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.
“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you. 
“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.
Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.
“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.
His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.
You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.
He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.
You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.
You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.
You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”
You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs. 
His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.
His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you. 
He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin. 
He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”
You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.
When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.
“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you. 
Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.
His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs. 
His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”
You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.” 
“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.
“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.
“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.
“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air. 
He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.
His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.
“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.
“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.” 
You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged. 
It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock. 
He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly. 
You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”
His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.
You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again. 
“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”
It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.
“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you. 
With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.
He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.
You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.
The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.
“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.
“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”
You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.
He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”
You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.
“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.
You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?
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@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida
Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.
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hitomisuzuya · 3 months
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MY BELOVED (ur work is my absolute favorite u always have me on my hands and knees!!) I’m actually very serious the fire in my stomach when u post is <333
Dressing ur pretty boy Scara up as a maid! The outfits rather tight.. rather revealing and while he hates it and gives u quite the stinky eye all day, you can’t help but ride him to make him feel better! How sweet of you
Though his dominance starts to shine through as your “dominance” starts fading into submission when riding him, he calls you mommy while growling over how your walls clench around him, maybe if we ride him right after his orgasm he’ll get overstimulated and really see who’s really trying to be in charge here <3
“Wait.. wait! Wait oh fuck~” vibes <33
I HOPE THIS MADE SENSE IM JUGGLING TYPING THIS AND WRITING CLASS NOTES
Scaramouche x fem!reader Smut. Riding. Overstimulation. Degradation. Dom!Scara.
This made perfect sense 😳 Thank you, everyone for all your support and patience❤️ Be careful in class now😌 I may write a second part for this.
Dressing Scaramouche up in a maid outfit was supposed to be joke at first. You'd told him that he had the perfect legs for a maid outfit, and after some hissing and grumbling, he'd indulged you in your silly whim.
He was resolved to also get a hold of your phone to delete the picture you'd taken of him.
The sour expression he'd worn on his face had long since fallen away. In an attempt to placate him, you were bouncing on his cock, making him feel nearly limp from pleasure as he twitched and rutted up inside of you.
Scaramouche's arms were around you, clutching you against him, his eyes hypnotized by the white ring that glossed his cock. He let out a volley of incoherent curses, his eyes flicking to watch your breasts bounce before leaning his head down towards them.
He let out a wanton whimper as your hand found the back of his head to push his mouth towards your breasts. "What's the matter, my sweet Scara?" You cooed, stroking his hair, "is this too much for you too take?"
One of his hands travelled down to grope your ass, growling as he latched his lips onto one of your nipples. "You are clenching around my cock like a total slut, Mommy," He groaned feeling you clench harder around his cock, a high pitched cry keening from your throat.
His tongue swirling around your nipple send jolts of pleasure to your throbbing clit. You arched your back, crying out again as his grip started to tighten a little around you.
You didn't think too much about it at first, figuring he was close to cumming. He had the sweetest, high pitched whimpers and moans. You completely missed the glare in his eyes as yours roll closed, enjoying the feeling of his cock kissing into your sweet spot.
"Cum for me like a good boy," You cooed, making him growl again. Your walls squeezed just right on his cock. It pulsed strong as cum roped inside of you.
Scaramouche writhed underneath you when you didn't stop bouncing. He spat a string of incoherent Japanese curses, overwhelmed by the pleasure of overstimulation.
He could do nothing but moan at your mercy. That is until something snapped in him. Your eyes suddenly open as his hand flew to roughly grasp your chin. "I'm fucking fed up with your feeble display of dominance," His fingers dug into your hips before he lifted you off his cock and fling you onto the bed.
Your eyes widened as he flipped you over onto your stomach. He'd stolen control so fast it stunned you. It made you wonder if you had ever really been in control at all.
"Ass up, slut," Scaramouche snapped, smacking a hand on your ass. You blushed, yelping as you did you were told. It was time for him to put you in your place, especially for making him wear a maid outfit.
A whimper of your own keened from your throat, making him laugh as his fingers found your clit to rub it before lining his cock up with your entrance. His hand pushed your face down onto the pillows as he thrust his cock inside of you all at once, smirking when you gasped loudly from the burst of pleasure.
You whimpered again behind broken moans, his cock slamming into you, his fingers digging bruises into your hips. "Fuck, how are you still so tight after I already rearranged your insides?" He smacked a hand on your ass again, smirking when he heard you choke back a broken cry of bliss.
"Awwa, my bad. I took you off my cock before you could cum," The condescending tone he used made your cheeks flush, drool pooling around your cheeks onto the pillow.
He grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking your head off the pillows so your moans wouldn't be muffled. He wanted to hear you scream while you creamed hard on his cock, crumbling underneath the sheer weight of his dominance.
And it sounded so fucking sweet to Scaramouche.
"My compliments to you for not ripping the maid uniform off of me earlier," He pulled out only to slam himself back inside of you, groaning when you came screaming on his cock. "I think it's time for you to put it on instead. You'll be the most delicate little maid fuck toy for me."
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mvskedxrtist · 5 months
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Don't Let the Adepti Hear
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Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: PwP, Sir Kink, Creampie, Hair Pulling, Bondage, Degration, Breeding Kink, Humiliation, Overstimulation, FwB
Nᴏᴛᴇ: Hey.. Merry Christmas y'all!! Sorry I left y'all on this sort of hiatus, school was taking a toll on me but I'm on winter break so I'm gonna try and see how many I can get in before the year ends! Also if they do end up short, I'm sorry. Trying to figure out which characters I want to write for the most and which give me instant inspiration. Also at times I just don't feel like writing the sex scene which is what y'all are here for, I'm sorry.
AMAB!Harbringer!Reader x Zhongli - Don't Let the Adepti Hear
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You were on your normal walk around Liyue. Ever since your upper subordinate, Tartaglia had went to Fontaine; you have been assigned to his old role in Liyue. Which meant you had bumped into Mr. Zhongli a lot. You were acquaintances at that point, he mostly knew you as the guy who would fund his money.
Now Childe didn't tell you at first that Zhongli would usually ask him for money whenever he needed it (which was most of the time). But you had figured that out after the third time he asked in one day. Thank the seven that it wasn't from your own pocket but from the Tsaritsa's.
But that also did lead into you and Zhongli getting closer over time and that led to one night in which you drank and.. You already know the details. That next morning, the both of you knew that you had some sort of sexual feelings for each other so Zhongli decided to be friends with benefits with you.
He just didn't know he'd be craving for your cock after that.
Like as of today. It wasn't anything too special, you had went around to make sure none of the other henchmen ruined the Tsaritsa's plans here and had bumped into Zhongli a couple of times to pay for his things. You had just decided after the fifth time of you paying for his food that day that he should pay you back in some form of way.
Which lead you to now: the both of you in the Wangshu Inn near the top, you fully clothed and tying a particular God up. While Zhongli's clothes were taken off of him and his body was tied up in a way to instantly make him spread his legs and showcase his slightly large chest.
You leaned back a bit and chuckled at Morax while pulling his hair. "Now, Zhongli... Since the Tsaritsa are probably gonna ask why I've been spending so much Mora in just Liyue alone, I'm gonna just mention your name and then she talk with you. But for now since I actually had to dip into my own funds, you're gonna get creampied as much as you've made me pay for your things!"
You had taken your clothes off at that point and flipped him over before slamming your cock inside of him, groaning in his ear. "Archons, fuck! Even after us fucking so much in this past month, you're still tight as a damn virgin, what the hell!" You grumbled and wrapped your hand around his neck to choke him while thrusting into him fast, pushing your cock deeper inside of him.
"S-sorry,sir~ nghh.. H-hhaahh~ s-so big~" Zhongli moaned whorishly while you were fucking his asshole hard, not being able to control his mouth before you looked down at him and chuckled. "Nu-uh, you little slut. You want your precious Alatus hearing your whorish moans so badly~ such a fucking slut aren't you?" And just from your words, you instantly saw him tearing up out of pleasure and embarrassment. He didn't want anyone to hear but the pleasure was too much.
"W-wait, oh fuck~ N-no I don't want any of the Adepti to hear...~" The god whined and tried to hold onto your while he could feel his stomach bubbling for an orgasm. "Your asshole and your cock say otherwise~" You smirked at him and slapped his ass while cramming your cock deep inside of him before cumming in the God's tight hole. "Oh Archons~" You groaned and pushed in a bit deeper but chuckled and looked down at needy Morax.
He looked so fulfilled with cum inside of him that you chuckled and started thrusting relentlessly once again. Zhongli looked confused but started moaning again louder. "Did you not remember you slut? I said I'm cumming inside of you as many times as I've had to pay for your today~" You told him and pulled his hair one more time.
"So keep quiet.. Or don't. Either way, you're gonna be filled to the brim~"
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bookshelf-dust · 5 days
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you have hearts for eyes
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sirius black x fem!reader
word count: 5,451
warnings: minimal swearing, kind of modern!au, reader has insecurities about being inexperienced, very slight suggestive material, fluff/comfort
a/n: hello! i’ve been working on this fic for what feels like forever, and i am so happy to be done with it and to share it with you. i know my audience for sirius is a bit smaller, but i’m hoping some of you will appreciate and enjoy it and maybe find something in it. it means a lot to me and writing it definitely helped me work through some of my own struggles. please let me know what you think!! i love you so much. happy reading <333
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Sirius’ apartment is really quite sweet. The walls are dark and draped with tapestries, ones you would never know where to find. Someplace you’re unfamiliar with, surely.
Of course you know it wouldn’t be nearly this nice without all of Remus’ help. Sirius thinks choosing to live across the hall from one another was the best decision they ever made. He had wanted to share a place with both Remus and James, but that was before Lily snatched him away.  
The couch is a deep wine color, the cushions bearing imprints from all the hands and backs and bottoms that have embraced them. He’s cracked the living room windows open, allowing the spring air to seep in.
He’s been pacing back and forth from the window where he’d be able to see your car pull up, and looking out the peephole on his front door. He pulls it open just as you’ve raised your hand to knock (despite having a key), making you jump. A boyish grin spreads across his face as he drags his eyes down your figure. 
“Well, Christ, don’t you look gorgeous.”
You feel the tips of your ears burn. One of your hands flies to rest on your lower belly. You put on a dress today; a lovely, long sundress you purchased in a short-lived moment of bravery, one you’ve never worn around him. Actually, you’ve never worn a dress around Sirius, period. Skirts, sure. But he has never seen you in something like this.
“Oh, quit that,” you mutter, dipping under his arm to enter his home. 
He turns around to watch you walk in as he pushes the door shut. “I will not.” He takes your bag from your shoulder, setting it on a stool just under the kitchen island. “Do a spin for me, love. That color looks so perfect on you.”
You oblige, letting yourself have this one moment where you lean into his flirting. His eyes follow the curve of your waist, the dress hugging it so gently where you’ve tied the strings around your back. The way the fabric drapes down your spine and is light enough that he can see each move you make, each effortless shift of your limbs. He has to be careful not to let his jaw fall open.
You complete your turn, stomach flipping at the look on his face. You scramble for something to say, to hide the way he’s flustered you.
“Okay, okay. No need to pretend to ogle anymore. All I did was put on regular people clothes.”
Sirius’ brows knit together. Pretend? Do you think he’s doing this just to flatter you? Just because he’s a naturally flirty man? He wants to toss you over his shoulder and show you how perfect you are. He crosses his arms.
“No pretending here, love. You do look stunning in that little number and I feel blessed that you have graced me with your presence while wearing it.” He shoots a wink in your direction. 
You run a hand over your collarbone and twist to plant yourself on his couch. He follows you, tucking himself into your side, his thigh pressed to yours. You can feel his gaze on you. 
“You’re terrible at taking compliments, you know that?” He gingerly takes your hand away from where it’s scratching at your neck and keeps it in his, subconsciously tracing the lines embedded in your palm. 
Your eyes fall on his fingers, watching the way his rings glint in the fading sunlight. “I did know that, yes.”
“Give me a compliment then,” he says, attempting to display how one can accept a compliment. Part of him knows he’ll go red once you give him that attention. 
You look at him, your mind swirling with every sweet thing you’ve ever wanted to say to him but kept to yourself because all this flirting doesn’t leave you as easily as it does him. 
“Your hair looks very pretty,” you let out, softly. A smile wide enough to expose his dimples spreads across his face. 
“Does it?” He gives his head a shake, the dog-like movement making you laugh. “I haven’t brushed it today.”
You tuck a strand behind his ear. “Would you like me to do it for you? I could braid it for you after so it won’t get tangled tonight.” 
That gesture comes from you so naturally that it makes Sirius swoon. You want to do that simply for his convenience and because it might make things a bit better on him. And he’ll be damned if the thought of your fingers touching his scalp and your nails on his neck doesn’t sound like the best thing since…well he hasn’t got a reference for that. But you’re often so shy when it comes to physical affection, and this just might make his entire life.  
This pool of thoughts must be showing on his face, because you suddenly look very flustered. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had hearts in his eyes to replace his pupils.
“I’d love it if you did. You really don’t mind?” he asks, already shifting to sit on the floor in front of you, trying not to make you feel too nervous because he knows you’re branching out just based on your actions since you arrived. 
“Nope. I love to braid hair,” you say, feeling a chill run down your spine seeing him settled between your legs like this, feeling the warmth of him through your dress and being able to really look at him—even if it’s just the backside of him—without feeling so shy.
Sirius grins to himself. He’s realized that you do keep a lot of things to yourself, and though he likes to think he’s cracked away at a bit of your shell in the time he’s known you, there is still so much he doesn’t know. 
“Did you know that Remus can braid?” he asks you, closing his eyes at the feel of your pinky fingernail parting his hair down the middle. 
You giggle. He could get drunk off that sound, and he knows so. It leaves him dazed. “Can he?”
“Apparently so. His mum taught him and used to have him do her hair because he was better at it than she was.”
“Well, that’s sweet. I should have him do mine. Test his skills. How’d you find out he could do it?”
Sirius lets out a breath of a laugh, “He did mine for a Quidditch match once. Mcgonagall used to fuss that I’d rip all my hair out if I didn’t contain it.”
You’re braiding his hair very slowly, much slower than you’d do yours or anyone else’s. His hair is so soft, and much thicker than you had realized. It’s got a wave to it, one you think you would be a bit more defined if he put some product in it. You’re enjoying the feel of it in your hands, the heat of his scalp against your skin. 
You’re losing yourself in it so much that you almost miss his words.
“I bet you guys had a lot of fun playing together,” you say, knowing that kind of bond must be one of the best things in the world. You tuck the strands of hair at the base of his neck in so they don’t droop when you’re finished.
Sirius wraps a hand around your ankle, and your eyes widen. 
“I wish we’d been friends then,” he tells you. Your nervous system is sent into overdrive, trying to adapt to such a casually intimate touch and the fact that he’s dwelling on the past. 
You tie off the end of one braid and start on the other. You exhale through your nose. “I don’t think we could’ve been.”
Sirius’ eyes open at this. He fights the urge to spin around and face you, but knows you’re concentrating, and he has the feeling that not staring at you directly is why you’re suddenly being so open with him. 
“Why?” he asks. Why couldn’t you have been? He’s always been friendly. Sure, he was much more rowdy in school, but he never would’ve tried to intimidate you. 
“We ran in different circles, you know? I certainly knew who you and the boys were, but everyone did.” Sirius’ brows furrow as he listens more intently than he knew he was capable of. “Though no one really knew who I was, except for my professors, of course. I was even more shy and reserved then, if you can believe that. I never really fit in, and I never found my people.”
“I sort of just…observed everyone. I did my best in class and tried to be social, but nothing ever stuck. I think there’s only one person I keep in touch with from Herbology. I learned at some point that I was going to be alone, and I might as well make the best of it.”
“So I guess what I’m saying is that we couldn’t have been because I’m not sure you ever would’ve seen me.”
The silence that follows your last few words is deafening, and all you hear is the sound of your blood rushing in your ears and your nails scratching against his hair as you finish the other braid. 
When he feels the tie rest against his neck, he forces the words up from where they’ve been sitting in his throat. “Love, I…”
He turns around so quickly you think he might’ve given himself whiplash. He’s giving you puppy dog eyes, and you hate that he’s feeling sappy over you and your pitiful school experience—or lack thereof. 
“Weren’t you lonely?” he questions, resting his hands on your knees. 
You start to fidget with one of your rings. “Of course I was. I know for lots being at Hogwarts are some of the best years of your life. But mine were very hard. I was extremely lonely, but I just learned how to be my own friend and do things that made me happy.”
“Plus I made great relationships with the professors, which helped me in getting a real job. And if that hadn’t happened…I’d never have really met you. Don’t feel bad for me, okay? It’s no big deal.”
Your words are followed by a poignant pause.
So much starts to click for Sirius, and all it does is break his heart. You give him a shy smile, and fuck, you’re absolutely right. He can’t remember what you looked like then, doesn’t remember seeing you in any of his courses. And he knows you’re a badass, but thinking about how he always had a circle, people he’d trust with his life and go to when he needed them, compared to how you were completely alone…that hurts. You deserve to be loved, praised, shown off to the world. You’re only a bit more outgoing now, and he knows much of that is owed to him and James. Remus is your introverted confidant. 
Sirius stands up and moves to sit next to you on the couch. 
“How could I not feel bad for you? Love, you’ve grown so accustomed to being alone that you don’t think it’s a big deal—not having a circle. You’ve accepted it, and I hate that you have felt so alone for so long.”
“Sirius, really, it’s—”
“Can I ask you something?” He blurts out the words, causing you to blink a bit. 
“You just did.”
“Please?” 
“Yes.”
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
Oh. That’s not where you were expecting this conversation to go. And this is one of the most embarrassing things to talk about. Especially with him, because you know he’s experienced. You’ve heard the stories.
Sirius takes your silence as encouragement to continue, scrambling to explain why he’d ask this. 
“Obviously you’ve been around us, you know James and Lily and—whatever, you know. And we sometimes talk about relationships or escapades and you always retreat when that happens. Is that…is that why?”
You swallow, ignoring the slight pressure behind your eyes. Fuck, this is embarrassing. Especially at your age, and knowing you’re behind everyone you know. It is hard to hear them talk about relationships or hookups. Most definitely when it’s Sirius. 
“No. I’ve never had a boyfriend.” 
Sirius blinks. He can’t understand how any guy could look at you and not want you all to themselves. That’s what he wants. 
“I’ve never even held hands romantically, Sirius. Isn’t that pathetic?” You feel the need to make sure he knows you realize how pitiful it truly is. 
Alarm bells ring in his head. 
“Darling, no. It’s not pathetic.” He searches your face, noticing the way you’re retreating from him. “Look at me, please?” He tracks your smile lines, each freckle or mark on your skin until you meet his eyes. His own brighten at your willingness to listen. “There she is.” 
Something about those words shoot straight to your stomach, butterflies smacking against your insides, begging to be let out. 
“Why do you think that’s pathetic, love?” He’s asking you seriously. That bitter voice, the one you’ve shoved deep inside the back of your mind, claws its way forward. It must be easy to think it’s not pathetic when you’re so experienced. Because you haven’t met the ache that comes from lacking what others have. You shake your head. 
“Because it is, Sirius.” He opens his mouth, but figures this isn’t the time to bicker. His jaw falls shut just as quickly. “I am twenty-two years old, and I have never had any romantic interactions, despite the fact that I have been desperate for one for years.” He knows you’re really letting your emotions fly when you begin to talk with your hands.
“It is so gut-wrenching sometimes to see people be so happy in their relationships. It’s hard for me to listen to our discussions when they delve into each of your experiences, because it tugs on my insecurities, and I try my best to hide it, but it does hurt.”
“Truthfully, I’m at a point where not only am I ashamed of all of this, but I’m afraid that a kiss, or a hug, or anything—that I just won’t feel anything. That maybe I will never understand what affection or love feels like and it’ll always be something I imagine. And my imagination only goes so far. There’s such a disconnect, and I can’t feel those things.” 
You rub at your temples. “So that’s why. I’m behind everyone else my age, and I wish I wasn’t.”
That little bit of anger you’ve worked so hard to suppress bubbles up in your chest. You worry he’ll say something that pushes it out, that he’ll give you that same spiel everyone else does—
“I could try and help you with your romantic interactions.” 
Your breath catches. Sirius’ gray eyes bore into yours. 
“But I’ll have you know,” he continues, “that I understand how you think you’re behind, especially with the stupid shit we talk about, and I don’t think it matters. You’re on a different path than I’ve been, but it’s not as though you’ll never do those things. Frankly, I can’t see why no one’s jumped your bones to date.”
Your nervous system feels so confused. At once you’re fighting that bout of frustration, and feeling your heart pick up at the idea of this actually being a possibility. 
“Did I braid your hair too tight?” you mutter. 
Sirius laughs, tossing his head back to reveal a glorious neck. “No, love.” He places a hand on your knee. “Now, be genuine when you answer this for me, alright?” He waits for your nod and then leans in close enough that you can feel his breath on your collar bones. 
“Is it really that difficult to see how enamored I am with you?”
Huh?
Sirius laughs again. Shit, did you say that out loud? 
“You did say that out loud.”
You slap your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you rush out, “that was supposed to stay in my head.” But all of the small things he’s done, all of the romantic things—cooking you dinner, helping you zip your dresses, buying you jewelry, even just making you feel seen—come rushing to the forefront of your mind. Perhaps you didn’t want to believe it. Or maybe you couldn’t believe someone would feel romantically about you and decided to block out any of his loving gestures.
He’s staring straight into your eyes, and it’s like he’s cast a spell on you, because you feel like you could spill your guts right then and there. And maybe it’s best you do. 
“I think maybe I’ve just convinced myself you’re sweet to everyone? That you’re a loverboy at heart and so it hasn’t meant anything more for you to be sweet to me.”
“Sweet on you,” he says. 
You blink.
“I am sweet on you, love. While I won’t deny that I am a flirt at heart and do my best to charm most anyone, I have dedicated my time to you as of late. Truth be told, I'd quite like to be your loverboy.” He pauses, looking over your face, a grin spreading across his. “But I suppose your inexperience explains why you’ve been so oblivious.” He’s made himself laugh now. 
You lean forward and smack him on the bicep, and even though it is a firm hit, there’s no malice in it, especially with that smile on your face. He’s not wrong at all—you have been oblivious. 
Sirius falls back dramatically onto the couch, feigning severe pain. “Fuck, you’ve wounded me.”
You roll your eyes, watching how he clutches his arm and gasps for air. His braids are splayed out, his cheeks a shade of rosy pink. He looks so…gorgeous. You’re in awe of him. It’s like when you stare at the statue of David, just completely entranced by how beautiful this man made of marble is. That’s how looking at Sirius feels. Taking in something so soft and knowing it should be handled with care. 
You hold out your hands, wiggling your fingers. “Alright, come on. You’ll recover.”
Sirius grabs hold of you, allowing you to hoist him up. When you do, you could easily touch noses. There’s a new tension in the room, one you’re sure anyone would be able to feel if there were more people there. 
You look down when you realize Sirius hasn’t let go of your hands. “So, what do you say?” he asks, bringing your attention back to his face.
Say something, you tell yourself. You’re just staring at each other, and you’ve got to speak. Your heart is pounding, rattling your rib cage. You want to have all of these experiences, you really do, but it’s also so terrifying to think about the vulnerability that comes with them. Though…it’s Sirius. And if you’re being truly honest, you’ve always wished it’d be him. That he’d look at you…the way he is now.
“I—I’d really like that. If you’d really like to deal with my clumsiness and all.” You give him a shy smile, and suddenly he’s threading his fingers with yours. He raises his hands, forcing you to do the same. Your fingers are intertwined, his hand engulfing yours, which is undoubtedly much smaller. 
You’re holding hands.
“Look, love. Now you’ve held hands romantically.” He laughs a little at the look on your face, one he’s sure is a result of the awe you’re in. You’ve never done this before. It feels so nice to have his hands in yours. They’re so warm, and sparks are shooting up your wrists. You feel giddy. 
You bite your lip in an effort to suppress the excitement that is practically begging to come out. He sees it though. “Is this making you happy, darling?” he asks. You nod enthusiastically, your ears burning. “Perfect. And about what you said, I did warn you that I was head over heels for you, so I might be so weak in the knees that I’ll be clumsy too.” He winks.
You squeeze his fingers experimentally. A little nervously. “You’re sure you want to do all this with me?”
Sirius squeezes back, his thumbs rubbing over your skin. “Of course I am. You trust me, don’t you?” He already knows the answer to that, but how could he not make sure that you feel safe with him?
“Always,” you say. 
“Good.” He glances down at your clasped fingers. “Wanna keep holding hands? It’s rather nice, isn’t it?”
You giggle, and he swears his insides turn to jelly at how sweet the sound is. “I think I’ve been spoiled now,” you say. “I might always want to hold your hands.”
Sirius presses a gentle kiss to your knuckle, locking eyes with you as he does it. Your heart kicks against your throat, your chest aching with the lack of air you’re getting. 
“You think you’re spoiled now? Best prepare yourself then, love.”
————
Sirius was right.
And that was confirmed when he gave you your first real hug. Not the quick hug you give your grandmother or your friend on the way out the door. But one of those hugs you’ve always seen in muggle romantic comedies or read about in your novels. The kind of hug you’ve never been able to fully wrap your mind around, but have imagined more than is healthy. When you lay in bed at night, clutching your teddy bear and wishing you could feel someone with you. 
He gave you your first romantic hug. And you’ve requested one each time he’s available. 
The request came after dinner one night, when he was watching you diligently scoop ice cream into a cone for him. Because you wanted to. Sirius hated to boost his own ego, but he had to admit that the way you had changed since furthering your relationship with him had you glowing. It’s not that you weren’t happy before, because you were, but this is different. It’s like he’s unlocked this vault inside of you, one where you’ve stored all this love and kindness, and he gets to experience it. 
He’s never seen you so…free. 
You’d set the ice cream cone down on the counter for him. “Ta-da,” you said, sticking the spoon back in the container and waiting for him to pick his toppings. He did so, admiring how you’d chosen things you knew he liked, how you were so giddy just from this moment. Your hair was a mess and you were wiping the stickiness from your fingers and he was so overwhelmed by you. 
“Sweetheart?” He’d asked, eyeing you as you did a happy little wiggle when you took a bite of the cheesecake ice cream you’d found earlier in the week. Your eyes found his, all doe-like, and your nose wrinkled because of how the pet name flustered you. 
He’d been trying those out too, and while getting you to do the same had been slow-going because of your nerves, you loved when he used them for you. 
You’d put down your spoon and hummed. “Yeah?”
He stepped closer to you. “Can I hug you, love?”
Your breath had caught, and at the same time that you were feeling immensely nervous and flustered, you were so excited. So excited to be hugged properly and by someone you were over the moon for. 
“Please?” 
You smiled and he laughed boyishly, moving in until your chests were almost touching. Your pulse hammered against your wrist. 
Sirius bent slightly, allowing you to rise up on your toes. He wrapped his arms around your waist, locking them snuggly against your back. Yours went around his neck, squeezing his shoulders. The entirety of his front pressed to yours, and he was so warm. 
Your fingers tentatively moved into the hair at the base of his neck, and you tucked your face into his neck, where he immediately felt your smile against his skin. 
Suddenly, Sirius had secured his arms tightly around you and lifted you up into the air, hoping to make you laugh. To show how giddy he was feeling. Because in truth, holding you like this, having you be his, filled a void in him he wasn’t even aware of. You were quickly becoming the air he breathed and everything in between. 
You kicked your feet and chuckled into his shoulder. He set you back down on the floor, and you hugged him for a bit longer. His were all-embracing, and in his arms, somehow all of your thoughts were immediately shut off, as if this was all the world consisted of. For Sirius, your hug made him feel as though this was the safest place he could ever be, and he knew it would be where he should go when he needed security. And you had this way of getting him to focus, to calm down and be present. 
Needless to say, you were both falling for each other. Though it should be mentioned that he’d already started before your relationship furthered, and you had suppressed your heart-eyes for him only because you never thought this kind of feeling was real. That it would be impossible for a boy to treat you this way. You try to let the little girl in you who always hoped for a fairytale romance celebrate every now and then.
There hasn’t been a label put on your relationship, but one night before you got there to hang out with everyone, Sirius calmly told the boys (and girls) that things between you had escalated to more-than-friends. And while they know you, it still felt right to make sure they wouldn’t pester you. 
In fact, they were overjoyed to see the both of you act so sweetly towards one another. James whispered in Lily’s ear more than once about how Sirius could not seem to take his eyes off you. Remus helped you in the kitchen and told you how nice it was seeing you so happy. So light. He’d given you a quick hug and wished you the best.
You have never felt so at ease.
Sirius has taken you on a number of dates at this point, some quaint and intimate, some more outgoing. You’ve held hands, hugged. You even got to cuddle with him on the couch. 
But you haven’t kissed. 
And you want to kiss him, so very bad.
But that is terrifying. 
All of your fears revolving that form of affection rush to the surface each time you contemplate when would be best to kiss him, if he wants to kiss you. What if you’re broken and you don’t feel anything? What if there’s no spark? What if, after all this time of hoping kissing would be enjoyable, after craving that intimacy, it just doesn’t work?
Every time you’re around him, all you want is to kiss him. You want that beautiful, sarcastic mouth on yours. You want to know what his plush lips feel like and learn how to kiss properly. You want to fluster him, and you want to be flustered. You want this. 
If you asked Sirius, you’d know he wants the same thing. Truthfully, he wants to pin you to the wall and kiss you silly. Until you forget every worry and anything that’s made you sad. Until all you feel is him. He wants to smother your pretty face in kisses. He wants to kiss every inch of you. 
Tonight, you’re going to Sirius’ place for a sleepover. And you are going to be brave and kiss him.  
————
Your socked feet are in Sirius’ lap, where he’s pushed your pajama pants up your calves so that he can rub his hands across the soft skin there.
Every once in a while, he’ll tickle the underside of your knee just to get you to giggle.
You’ve stopped paying any attention to the movie, and instead are looking at him. The only light in his small living room comes from the television and the array of eclectic lamps scattered around any surface he could fit one on. 
It casts shadows on his face, elongating that beautiful nose and the hollows of his cheekbones. His gray eyes look so dark, like storm clouds right before they let out all the rain they’ve been holding in. 
“Love?”
Sirius’ voice snaps you and your pounding heart out of your reverie. Your eyes lock with his, and you feel yourself heat up all over. He’s smiling at you. 
“Can you tell me what’s happening in the movie?” he asks you, crossing his arms in that oh so cocky way. 
Your thumb finds your bottom lip, picking at the skin there and trying to disguise the smile pulling at the corners of your lips. You shake your head, shyly. 
He straightens and leans in closer to you. “And why’s that, sweetheart?”
He has a hunch, but he wants you to say what’s on your mind, and you know that’s exactly what he’s waiting for. You know he could sit here all night until you spill your guts. 
“‘Cause I’ve been thinking about how bad I wanna kiss you.”
Sirius blushes, but he turns on the charm just as quickly. “Yeah? What’s stopping you?”
He places his hands on your knees. “I’m nervous,” you tell him. “You know I’ll be bad at it, and it might suck because of me, and even if all I want to do is kiss your sweet face, I just…want it to be good.”
He lifts his hand to cup your cheek. “Well, you know if it’s bad, that just means we get to practice.” You snort, and he rests his forehead against yours in an effort to console you and your nerves. 
You pull back and put your hands on his chest. It takes everything in you not to grin at how hard his heart is beating, especially with the swell of pride you feel knowing you’re the cause of that. 
“I really want to kiss you, Sirius.”
“I really want you to kiss me, darling.”
You inhale, scrunching your nose at him. At this point, you’ve got heart palpitations that are only going to get worse if you don’t act on this. 
“Meet me halfway?” you ask, tentatively. 
Sirius cups your face, leaning in slightly, but leaving you room to initiate. “Of course,” he breathes. 
You take hold of his wrists, fingers trembling. The feeling of his pulse both calms you and makes you sweat. 
You move forward, tilting your head to the side a little so you don’t smack noses. You can infer that much, at least. He inches closer each time you do, matching your pace. It almost makes you want to laugh at how slow and careful this is. You could also cry. 
When you’re close enough to feel his breath against your lips, you let your eyes close fully, as they’d been helping you find your mark so far. He meets you that last inch, and you are so grateful. 
Your lips finally touch in a short, but firm peck. You pull away, smiling, reveling in how soft his lips are. 
But now that Sirius has had a little taste of you, he can’t help but want more. He guides you back to him, helping you find a rhythm together. He slots your bottom lip between his, kissing you so brilliantly your brain empties of all thought. You do your best to kiss him back, albeit a little clumsily. He doesn’t seem to mind. 
You catch on when he takes turns paying attention to each of your lips, and you try and press all of the passion you feel right back into his. 
Every worry you previously had is gone.
You do feel that spark. It feels so magical, so all-encompassing, to be kissed like this. To have Sirius kiss you. 
You’re breathless. 
When Sirius finally pulls back for air, he presses kisses to your jaw and down your throat. The affection is so close to drawing a whimper from your throat. You know immediately that you could get drunk off of him. 
You pull him back up to you by his hair for one more short kiss and he grins boyishly into it. 
He starts to laugh. 
“Shit,” you start. “If I thought I was spoiled before, I really had no idea what was coming to me.”
Sirius tosses his head back, completely infatuated with you and so fucking gleeful at being yours. Because he is. Yours. 
“You’re gonna get sick of me,” you say. “Now I want to kiss you all the time.”
“Oh, love,” Sirius exhales. “What makes you think you’ll have a moment where I’m not the one addicted to you?”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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hells-wasabii · 2 months
Note
Oh I have an idea! What about Velvette’s girlfriend meeting the other Vees for the first time?
A/N: I'm baaaack. Sorry for the sudden hiatus everybody, life got crazy and I just haven't had the time to write like i did when I started. Hopefully that'll change soon cuz there's still like 90 reqs in my inbox that I plan on writing. If I manage to get back down to a more reasonable number I may reopen reqs. but for now, here's some Velvette. A fair warning, though, I personally feel that this one is a little dialogue heavy, but hopefully yall enjoy it nonetheless
Character: Velvette
Type: Drabble (Velvette x fem!reader introducing gf to the Vee's, Fluff)
The initial pleasantries were out of the way, introductions and the like. It had gone well enough, you supposed, at least that part was over with. As bad as it sounded, you were thankful. Maybe you might actually survive the night after all.
“You know, darling, you’re quite the looker, have you ever considered a career in the film industry?” You shift your weight from one foot to the other, chuckling nervously before the overlords, because what the hell were you supposed to say to that? What the hell have you gotten yourself into? 
Velvette, who stood to your right, shot Valentino a sharp glare. A warning. There sure had been plenty of those tonight already, hadn’t there? The first of the night had been your own.
The influencer had told you what to expect before you had even set foot in Vee Tower. When your girlfriend had invited you to meet the rest of the Vee’s you had initially been unsure. Yeah, you knew Velvette already, the self-proclaimed backbone, the other two surely couldn’t be that, bad right?
“So…” Vox started, a serious expression settling upon his screen as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What are your intentions with our dear Velvette?”
Okay, so that’s where the night was going. Great. Maybe you’d been wrong, but all things considered, it genuinely felt as if you were meeting her parents. They had been surprisingly casual so far, but the trio of overlords had a reputation for being unpredictable, so that could really change at any minute, you realized. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you sputtered in response. Shit, you’d expected the other two overlords to be intimidating, but definitely not like this.
Velvette was quick to respond, slamming a not-so-subtle heel into his foot. The video star let out a yelp, electricity crackling around his screen as he glitched before pulling his leg away as though to defend it from further assault. 
The Vee’s truly were something else, you decided as the tall moth demon continued with another playful gibe.
“Oh no, Voxy, if anything we should be more worried about Velv’s little girlfriend here.” Valentino grinned as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, you inhaled sharply as you were pulled closer. “Is she treating you well, doll?”
“Of course she is.” You couldn’t help it, really. The words rolled off your tongue before you could think better of it. Velvette raised an eyebrow as a lazy smirk Oh there was no doubt in your mind that the influencer would tease you endlessly later.  The way that Velvette flashed you a lazy smirk made your stomach do a little flip. With flushed cheeks, you cleared your throat while the television demon across from you barked out a laugh.
“You can relax, we’re not gonna bite. Why don’t we sit down and you tell us about yourself?” Vox began, though a smirk overtook his welcoming smile as he went on to tease the youngest overlord further. “We’ve already heard so much from Velvette, but I’d much rather hear about you without all the mushy shit.” 
“Oh for fucks sake, what happened to actually behaving yourselves tonight?” the influencer groaned, though there was no real venom to her words. This prompted another chuckle from the other overlords, you even found yourself stifling a laugh.
“Oh my dear we are behaving.” Though the grin on Valentino’s smug face suggested otherwise. You watched as the three continued going back and forth as you were led to a lounge Despite her protests, Velvette was clearly at ease. This was going to be an interesting night, you thought as a fond smile took to your lips.
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linos-luna · 2 months
Note
Hi gorgeous 💞
I hope you're doing well (I was worried af)
If it's not too much to ask but my birthday is on 14th March so can you write a yandere hyunjin x f reader smut where the reader who is already held hostage is given a gift by hyunjin (just surprise me with your writing girl)?
I would seriously appreciate it from my heart ❤️
Wanna see a manipulative, toxic and delusional hyunjin in love with me 😩
Bye 👋
Sorry it’s late! I’ve been so busy! 😭
Happy late birthday 🎊
———————————————————
Work of Art 🔪
Yandere!Hyunjin x Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warnings: Yandere!, 18+, slight Stockholm Syndrome?, Slapping, Hair pulling, Emotional manipulation
—————————————— 💞
It’s been two months. Two months since you lost your freedom. Hyunjin was obsessed. He wants you to keep you in his home forever. If he goes out, he handcuffed you to the bed frame. Although lately he hasn’t done that. Probably because now you don’t move. You seemed to have given up on trying.
The days blended together so you didn’t even realize that today was your birthday. You stayed in bed until noon, only waking when some light from the window hit your face. You sat up, only to see Hyunjin standing at the door. Watching.
“Good morning, my love.” He said with a soft smile. “Today is a special day!”
“What….?” You mumbled.
“How could you forget?! It’s your birthday, silly!” He chuckled while going to you and leaning in to kiss you.
You were silent, actually surprised that you forgot your own birthday.
The man stroked your hair as he waited for your kiss although you didn’t budge. This seemed to frustrate him and he pulled your hair so your lips touch his. “Y/n!” He whined.
Reluctantly, you kiss him. He bit your lip and kissed you with lots of passion.
Sure you kissed back but not with as much vigor as him. This only hurts his heart.
“Y/n! I don’t understand…” he whined. “why…? Why won’t you love me like I love you!”
“Hyunjin, you kidnapped me!”
“Because I love you!”
“This isn’t love!!” You interrupted. “This… this is hell!”
“No no no… i-I’m sorry! It shouldn’t be!” Hyunjin frowned and dropped to his knees while holding your hand. “I only wanted to show you love and cherish you. I want to spoil you!”
“Hyunjin—”
“I’m sorry, y/n…” He pouts, giving you sad eyes, “I-i never meant to hurt you…”
“Hyunjin… you—!”
“No no I'm awful!” He interrupted while starting to cry. “I-I just want someone to love… I-I’ve never had someone love and care like you do. You’re so genuine and kind…”
He continued rambling. From his rough upbringing to his desire for love. He’s all alone in this world and it had your heart breaking for him.
“I-I have a gift for you…” he said softly. “Please. I worked so hard on it.”
“O-okay…” you nodded reluctantly.
Joy lit up his face and he quickly left the room. As soon as he left, the tears were gone. It was as if he flipped off the emotion like a light switch. Instead, he smiled to himself.
Hyunjin came back in the bedroom with a canvas. You were a bit confused until he turned it around. It was you. A painted picture of you sleeping. The style made you look angelic.
It was beautiful but also unnerving. When did he paint this? Was he watching you while sleeping? Every minuet detail of your features was there. Every mole and blemish was painted in great detail.
“Wow, Hyunjin… it’s very nice.” You said slowly while studying it. You couldn’t lie, it really was an amazing painting.
“Oh, my love. I’m glad you love it!” He smiled. “I worked so hard to capture your essence! You truly are a work of art!”
You couldn’t help blushing. You’ve never had a compliment like that and it was giving you butterflies in your stomach.
“Thank you, Hyunjin… I-I really do love it…”
“Oh good!” He was excited as he leaned in close. “Please, my love. May I kiss you?”
There was a moment of silence before you nod.
———— 💞
Dinner was a bit awkward. You sat in silence as he fed you.
“Do you like it?” He said suddenly.
“I do but… Hyunjin I can feed myself.”
“No darling. Don’t worry about that.” He said while putting more meat on the fork.
“No really—…” you grab the fork from him, about to raise it to your mouth before he suddenly slapped it away.
“Hyunjin—!”
Before you could finish, there was a swift slap to your face.
“No! Only I can feed you!” Hyunjin yelled suddenly.
You held your cheek in shock, too stunned to speak.
“Oh I’m so sorry!! My love, I'm sorry!!” He suddenly switched up and got to his knees, dropping the bowl of food to the ground, but he didn’t seem to care.
“No! Don’t cry! Don’t be mad!” He begged while grabbing into each side of your hair and pulling you close. “Please forgive me! I love you!”
“A-agh! Hyunjin!” You whimpered as he tugged harder.
“My darling. My sweet girl, please!”
He pulled harder, making you drop from your seat to the floor.
“J-Jinnie! You’re hurting me!!”
“W-what?!” He paused, still holding onto your hair. “No! No im not!!”
“Jinnie stop!”
“No you stop!” He yelled. “I love you! I’m just trying to love you!!” His voice broke as tears formed and it made you stop dead in your tracks.
“Hyunjin…”
“No! You don’t love me!” He sobbed. “I-I thought I finally found my soulmate… one that will love me as much as I love her!” Hyunjin wiped some tears while looking at you. “I-I’ve never had that kind of love. My M-mother left! A-And father would beat me! I-I only wish you give the love I never received!”
Whether this story was true or not -it’s not-, you wouldn’t be able to tell. But his vulnerability and tears tugged at your heartstrings.
“Hyunjin….”
“No! Just go!” He cried. “Just leave me! Leave me all alone! I’m used to it!” He pulled some keys from his pocket and threw them in front of you.
You were frozen in place. You felt awful. Pure guilt. How could you hurt him like this?? All he wanted was love. You felt like a monster.
Without much thinking, you hugged him tight. “I-I’m sorry, Jinnie.”
Hyunjin leaned into your hug, making himself look as small and vulnerable as possible while continuing to weep.
“It’s okay… it’s okay…” you whispered while rubbing his back.
“C-can I… can I give you a bath?” He asked softly. “I-I wanted to spoil you with a little… at home spa…”
You pulled away and looked at him. Here he was crying and expressing his deepest emotions and traumas, and yet he was still thinking of you. He was still wanting to spoil and shower you with love.
You only nodded and Hyunjin smiles before kissing your forehead and leaving to the restroom, getting some of the soaps and candles ready.
It made you feel guilty. Perhaps you have this all wrong. He really does have a good heart. Perhaps you’ve never experienced real love. Maybe… this is what true love is.
Hyunjin had no more tears. This face had cleared up so fast as soon as he entered the restroom. In fact he had a smile. A satisfied one, like a spoiled child that got his way. It was just too easy.
Hyunjin walked to the bedroom, grabbing a robe for you, stopping by the painting. He took a deep breath while running his fingers along your painted nude body.
He turned back to the restroom, mustering up some tears red cheeks before calling out to you.
"Come on, my love! The bath is ready!'
195 notes · View notes
latenightsimping · 2 years
Text
Nothing Else Matters
Summary: Being Jason Carver’s little sister can be be hell. Especially when you fall in love with someone he despises. Jason has a plan to break you up, and it almost works. Almost. (Part 2 is here!)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word count: 6,618
Warnings: V ANGSTY, angst to fluff, heavy themes of bullying, themes of child abuse and neglect, Jason Carver is an absolute shitheel in this, mentions of suicide, argument heavy in one part, reader is Jason Carver’s little sister, this is kind of a rough one for the first three quarters or so, it does get better I swear, posted without being beta read and in the early hours of the morning
AN: This was a wonderful request that I got from borhapgirlforlife19, and my first one for this blog, so thank you!! Really hope you enjoy it! The request asked for smut at the end, and I’m gonna be working on that in the next couple of days! I wanted to put it in two parts; one because this got quite long, and also separating it means that those who don’t wanna read smut can choose not to click on the second half if they wish! Actually gave myself psychic damage writing some of this lmao
Being the little sister to the school’s golden boy had both good and bad connotations. For one, you weren’t picked on throughout your years in high school, able to weave through the halls and mind your own business. Make a couple of friends, and manage to keep your head down and focus on your grades.
However, the downside was that Jason was the one to make your life hell, if he was in one of his moods. A couple of times he’d humiliated you for some inane reason that he thought required payback. The worst had been when you’d told your Mom about him sneaking out at night to drink with his buddies, only to come back from a gym class the next day to find your fantasy books in shreds after they’d been stolen from your bag. No doubt orchestrated by Jason as revenge, seeing as the cheerleaders seemed to follow his every command.
It was how you and Eddie had first met, the day that it happened.
You were crying under the East stairwell during class, hating the thought of having to go to class and face the smug looks on the faces of your bullies, knowing they’d finally got to you by ruining the one thing you enjoyed. Back pressed against the cold bricks, arms wrapped around your legs and your forehead pressed against your knees as you tried to will yourself to stop crying.
“What’re you cryin’ for, pretty girl?” he had asked you softly, making your head snap up to look at him. A halo of dark curls and soft brown eyes, such a contrast against his rough and sharp outfit of ripped jeans and chains. When you only sniffled in response, he carefully crouched in front of you, a respectful distance away as he placed his rings hands against his knees. “Somethin’ bad happen?”
“M-my books,” you manage to get out between ragged breaths, and you watched as his eyes flickered towards the piles of paper by your bag. It looked as if you had tried to rescue them, only to become overwhelmed after you realised it was pointless. Sitting himself in front of you, legs crossed in front of him, a hand slowly reached out to carefully pluck a cover from the pile. Eyebrows furrowing as he clicked his tongue behind his teeth and shook his head as his eyes snapped back up yours.
“Someone destroyed a copy of The Silmarillion? Why princess, that’s sacrilege. Honestly, the firing squad need to be summoned at once for this heinous crime.” His dramatic flair as he spoke; the hand clutching fake pearls and the exaggerated exasperation made you let out a small giggle. His face warmed as he set his hands back in his lap, tilting his head with a soft smile.
“There it is,” he mused, making your eyebrows knit in confusion at his words.
“What?” was your dumb reply, already internally kicking yourself at how small and helpless you sounded.
“There’s that smile I look for in the cafeteria,” he answered with a soft voice, making your stomach flip pleasantly at the thought of him looking for you in a sea of people. You’d known of Eddie, of course you did. Had watched him launch himself up onto the table to parade around, yelling about whatever had him revved up that day. Had seen him rough-housing with his friends in the hallways, all smiles and earnest laughter. But you’d also seen the kinder side of him. Letting people pass when he was in the way, or holding doors open on instinct whenever someone was behind him. No matter how much people bullied him, he was still giving them common decency. And now you knew he knew who you were? You couldn’t stop the heavy blush dusting your cheeks.
As if sensing your slight embarrassment, he cleared his throat as he shifted on his place on the floor to get more comfortable. Both hands placed on the floor behind, him, leaning back as if giving you some space if you needed it. “Soooo… I happen to have a few copies of Tolkien kicking around my place. Wouldn’t mind lending them to you, until you get another. Totally your call, though. Won’t be offended if you tell me to get lost.”
Your heart warmed at the offer. You’d never spoken to him before, but he was clearly picking up on how upset you were, willing to go without if it made you happy. The kindness that you’d soon learn that filled him so much he was fit to burst with the intensity, especially when it came to the ones he loved and cared for. It made your smile so wide it made your cheeks hurt as you wiped your tears away with the back of your cardigan as you nodded.
“I’d like that.”
A love of books had bonded you both, and what begun as sneaking copies of what one thought the other would like when nobody was around turned into hanging out to talk about them. You’d tell your parents you were visiting a friend when you went out for the weekend, which was technically the truth. You would spend your free time in his messy bedroom, reading in comfortable silence or watching him play his guitar as you tried to focus on homework, something that fascinated you endlessly. The way his fingers would move over the fret board with an ease that came from a lot of practice, playing you songs that you thought you’d like. He was the one to introduce you to heavy metal, and you found that you actually really liked it. You’d had so many deep conversations when you were curled beside him on his bed, talking about how much you hated when Jason picked on you and others, or other worries that filled your mind. He was a good listener, and always seemed to know what to say to soothe you. His bedroom became your solace, somewhere that you would yearn for when you weren’t there.
 In return, he shared the thoughts that you knew he never shared with anyone else, keeping them to himself and gnawing on his soul. How much he missed his Mom, or how the years of abuse at the hands of his father when he was drunk still made him carry both mental and physical scars. You soothed him when it became too much, a hand on his and rubbing soothing patterns onto the skin of the back of his hand as you listened to the heartache that poured from him. You wondered why he never asked you not to tell, but it eventually dawned on you that he trusted you. He trusted you to hold his heart, and to never crush it. And it made you feel honoured to do so.
It was there that you had your first kiss. You could still remember how you were both laughing at some silly joke as you lay side by side, and the way that your bodies were practically inches from each other when you rolled onto your side to face him. How his eyes darted down to your lips, his own parting as if he was silently asking for permission. Seemingly finding the want you had for him in your body language, and closing the distance to slot his lips between your own. He tasted like cigarettes and cherry flavoured gum, and it became a taste you so desperately needed every time you were with him. Needed the way that his hand would come up to cradle your jaw, the cool metal of his rings against your warm skin. He always kissed you like it would be the last; passionate, tender, loving. He was your first kiss, and you found yourself wanting him to be the only boy you kissed for the rest of your life.
Ever since the first, the kisses didn’t stop. He would come and find you, nodding his head towards a supply closet and ducking inside, knowing you would follow to be wrapped in his arms with his mouth peppering your lips, your cheeks, your jaw with soft kisses as he told you how beautiful you were. You were only dating for a few months, but it was the small things like that which had you smitten with each other. He would find you small gifts that made him think of you; a beanie baby of an otter, because you once noted how adorable you found them. A silver chain bracelet very similar to his, though daintier, that you wore with pride. His eyes would light up when would find him new books to read that were his favoured genre, finding them when you took trips to the second hand bookstore. Your handwriting on the first page, saying things like ‘I thought you’d like this one because of the lore on elves. Enjoy!’ with your name signed underneath and a small heart.
You didn’t know it, but Jason knew something was up with you. You’d been smiling more, and wasn’t bothered by his usual jabs to your confidence, and the fact of it enraged him. The suspicions were confirmed when he was snooping through your room when you were out of the house, finding a very familiar shirt buried in the bottom of your dresser drawer. Moth eaten and faded with time, the black cotton with WASP proudly emblazoned on the front made him see red as he clutched it tighter in his hand. He knew who the previous owner was, considering he was one of the only people he knew that listened to this sort of music. Not to mention the faint smell of weed still eminating from the fabric. What the fuck was Munson’s shirt doing in your room? Slowly, he put the clues together. The late nights coming home, the smell of cigarettes on your clothes and the near constant chipper demeanour for the past couple of months.
You were banging the freak. And he wasn’t going to have that.
A plan formed in his mind, coming to fruition on the Monday morning before class. One of the cheerleaders, Donna, had a knack for copying handwriting; she was the one that they would come to if they needed a fake sick note, or an excuse for not doing homework. Filling her and the rest of the cheerleaders in on the plan, they were all right on board to make his little sister and the Devil worshipper of Hawkins break up. “It’s for her own good,” they had nodded sagely as they all chipped in an insult to write down, as though they were fully in their right to meddle in people’s affairs. Chrissy seemed uncomfortable with it, though she didn’t say anything as she watched. Just hanging onto Jason’s varsity jacket sleeve, giving him a small frown that he chose to ignore. In his eyes, he was second ranking in the position of the other man of the house. The women in the household were expected to listen to him, just like they listened to his father. In his eyes, he was doing the right thing. Straight up threatening would only push you further into Munson’s arms. This way? This way, he could kill two birds with one stone. Destroy Munson, and get his little sister away from him. The freak would be doing all the hard work, and he could come out of this looking like the one in the right. It was perfect.
~
Eddie was late to school, yet again. He was really trying to get in on time, knowing that it would look bad on him. The rubber soles of his sneakers squeaked against the linoleum as he rounded the corner, coming to a harsh stop in front of his locker. “Shit, shit, c’mon baby work with me,” he quietly pleaded with the combination lock, fingers fumbling as he twisted the dial. A triumphant noise escaping his lips as it finally unlocked, making quick work of putting his backpack and lunch box into the locker as he picked up the Math and Chemistry books he needed. He almost missed the small folded piece of paper that fluttered on the floor, his name in a familiar handwriting with a small heart just underneath. A sight that he was always glad to see, knowing that this was something you did often. Picking it up and shoving it into his pocket, he booked it towards Math. Not really because he was excited to learn about whatever the fuck the teacher was on about. But because he would have time to read your little love note.
Ten minutes into the lesson, and he finally took his chance to retrieve the paper and gently fold it open. Seeing his name on the top made him swoon. But as his eyes scanned the words, the grip on the note tightened so much that his ringed knuckles turned white.
Eddie,
I know it isn’t April Fools yet, but surprise!! Got you real good there, didn’t I? Got you thinking this was real, didn’t you? God, you’re a loser. Should have seen your face when I said I loved you. All doe eyes and stupid grin. Who would ever love you? You’re a freak and a nobody. Trailer park trash, just like your no good Daddy. Wonder if you’re gonna share a cell when you eventually wind up in prison? Or will you OD on smack before then, just like Mommy? Maybe if you do some sort of pact with your Lord and Master Lucifer, they might bring them back for you? When you’re not too busy sucking his dick, of course.
I never want to see your pathetic, ugly face again. This is the last you’ll hear of me. So enjoy the memories of me fucking you while they last, perv. Hope this finally sends you over the edge and you finally do us all a fucking favour.
p.s. Get a fucking haircut, you look like like the ugliest chick alive.
Your name was signed on it, and it just made his heart shatter that much more, his whole world crashing down around him. His hands were shaking as he tried to control his breathing, trying to keep it from going as rapid as his body was trying to force him to do. Vision growing blurry as hot tears pricked at his eyes that he couldn’t stop from forming. He was stood up before he realised his own body was moving, barely hearing the teacher yell at him for leaving the class halfway through and Jeff’s voice asking “What the fuck, man?”
Now in the halls, he began sprinting. Letting his feet pound on the floor as a wretched sob burst from his chest, running towards the only place of solace that he had left. He’d thought that he’d got used to the bullying over the years. He’d got used to the punches and kicks; those could be patched up and bruises covered. Even the names stopped bothering him after a while, after he’d heard them enough times. Only one time had got him to this state, and that was when they had stolen a necklace that he had hung on the rearview mirror of his van. One of the last things he had that belonged to his mother- the one of very few items in the whole world that he cherished more than anything. And it was you who had got it back for him after you snuck into Jason’s room to get it, risking your own neck in the process. It was you who he had spoken about her to, about how much he missed her every damn day and still wished every night that she was still around. You had hugged him while he cried on her birthday last month, carding your fingers through his hair so tenderly and softly whispering that it was okay to cry, to just let it all out, that you were always going to be around to catch him when he felt like he was free falling.
He had trusted you, heart and soul. He loved you. And none of it was real.
“Hey, have you seen Eddie?”
You were confused to not find him at the head of the Hellfire table when you got to the cafeteria. You were used to him giving you a lopsided grin as you passed to make your way to sit with your friends, teasingly patting his lap in offering and knowing full well that you wanted nothing more than to indulge and finally join him. Coming up to the table was already a risk; the boys who sat there looking nervous as you approached. But you had to. Eddie had promised that he wouldn’t skip school because he was determined to graduate this year, and you knew full well that you would see him here if he nothing was wrong. Was he sick? Maybe his van broke down? Either way, your stomach lurched as you waited for an answer.
The boys shot looks you couldn’t quite decipher between them all, and it was a curly haired boy with a boyish smile that Eddie told you was named Dustin to finally answer. “Do you uh… Do you need him for anything?”
You knew why they were being apprehensive. With the last name of Carver, of course it was going set them on edge. No doubt your older brother was making their lives a misery, and they wondered if you were about to do the same.
You gave them a soft smile as you nodded. “Yeah, I um… I-I have one of his books that he gave me. Wanted to return it.” Technically the truth. His beloved copy of Lord of the Rings was safely tucked in your backpack.
“We can give it to him,” Dustin offered, still eyeing you with suspicion.
“Oh, thank you, but there’s no need,” you answered, keeping your tone light. “I actually need to talk to him about something, too.”
The one with the dark cropped hair and kind eyes seemed to give you some pity. “You know that’s his girlfriend, right?” he muttered to his friends, keeping his voice down in case they were overheard. All eyes snapped back to you, shoulders relaxing and small sheepish smiles when they finally put two and two together. Eddie had been talking non-stop about a girl he was dating, and it was actually Jeff who had sussed it out first. It wasn’t rocket science, considering he’d probably caught the way you two stared at each other every moment you got. You wondered why Eddie hadn’t told them your identity, but you also understood. If word got out that you two were dating, it’d mean untold consequences for the both of you. You knew he trusted his friends enough not to snitch you two out, but you guessed he was just being extra careful with it all.
“Yeah, I am,” you said, smiling fondly at being called ‘his girlfriend’ in public. His girlfriend. You were Eddie’s, and he was yours. And you loved how it sounded. “I was just wondering if he was okay? If he was actually in school today?”
“He burst out of Math about something,” Jeff explained, shrugging as he pushed food around his plate with the tines of his fork. “Seemed real pissed. You might find him out in the woods, past the football fields and keeping right on the path. He sometimes goes there to smoke on the old bench out there.”
You couldn’t stop your heart racing as you nodded, thanking them profusely as you turned heel and left towards the place Jeff had told you about. Eddie was mad at something? He seemed fine when you saw him yesterday. In fact, he seemed in a really good mood. He’d got his first C in English, and you celebrated by ordering in pizza and cuddling up to watch horror movies on his couch. It had made him laugh when you jumped at the sudden scares in the movie, a smug grin on his face when you cuddled into him and whined that it wasn’t funny. Kissing the top of your head as he soothed a hand over your back. “Don’t worry babe,” he’d cooed. “I’ll save you from all the nasty zombies.”
So the fact that he’d left a class that he was set on passing was making you worry even more. Had Jason done something to upset him again? If he had, that would be the last straw. Eddie was rubbing off on you, and not in a bad way. For your whole life, you had bowed to your older brother. If he said jump, you asked how high. But Eddie had gently reminded you that you were your own person, and you didn’t have to do anything that you didn’t want. And that included with him, too. Many times, you had talked about losing your virginity with him, and he had promised that you would finally take the next step in your relationship, as soon as you were sure you were ready. As soon as you were sure you wanted to lose it with him. And like the gentleman he was, he never went any further than some light over the clothes action when you’d practically begged him to, respecting your wishes to not go any further. And you loved him all the more for it.
He came into view as you entered the clearing, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the very familiar Dio patch on the back of him denim jacket. He was sat on the table of the bench, feet planted against the seat, facing away from you and his shoulders hunched over. You could see the lit cigarette in his hand as he leaned his weight on the arm beside him, clutched between index and middle finger that was tapping in quick succession on the rotten wood. It was a nervous habit that you’d picked up on a while ago. Though his hands were always in motion, you could tell by the pace what kind of mood he was in. Slow and languid meant he was calm or sleepy. Slightly more rapid, he was excited. If they moved in the shape of frets to his favourite songs, he was trying to focus on something to take his mind off whatever bothered him. But this near frantic energy meant he was really, really upset or angry. It set you on edge a little as you winced at the sight of it.
“Eds?” you called out, noticing how his whole form froze as he heard your voice calling the name only you called him. A soft, sharp sob escaping his chest, the sound causing cracks to form in your heart. You took careful steps towards him, rounding the bench as you came into his view. Eyes downcast, red and puffy from crying. Cheeks stained from tears, and bottom lip quivering as he gasped for breath. Your eyebrows furrowed as you softly cooed, holding out your arms as you stepped towards him. “Baby, what’s wro-”
“Don’t you fucking touch me.” His voice was cracked, the edges of the words sharp and laced with anger, making you stop dead in your tracks and freeze in place.
Your eyes widened as you took a sharp inhale of breath, confusion marring your features as you dropped your hands to your sides. “Eddie? What’s wrong?”
He laughed, though there was no trace of humour in them as he shook his head and poked his cheek with his tongue. Reaching into his jean pocket, a piece of paper was in his grasp for only a second, before it was flung towards your feet. “You still keeping up the charade, Carver? Wanna try and hurt me more?” The use of your last name made you cringe. He knew you hated when people called you that; you hated being called the same thing as your brother. To Eddie, you were babydoll, princess, babe, sweetheart or angel. Barely ever your name any more. Using your last name was a weapon to hurt you with. And you both knew it.
Reaching down to pick up the piece of paper, you unfolded it and skimmed it through. A strangled, horrified sound escaping your lips as you felt physically sick from the cruelty of the words. The handwriting was so familiar, yet slight differences that only you could notice. The inflections of the letter I, or the syntax slightly off. But an icy hot panic washed over you in an instant when you realised why it was so familiar. It was your handwriting. Well, nearly. But to him, blinded by rage and hurt, those differences didn’t matter. You tried desperately to find the words, to try and tell him that none of this was you, but all you could do was shake your head.
You heard him take a sharp inhale of breath, and when your eyes flickered up, you watched the smoke languidly flow from his mouth. He wasn’t crying now. Instead, there was a mask-like quality to his features. Devoid of all emotion, eyes hardened as he stared at you. And honestly? It hurt worse than seeing him upset. Knowing that underneath it all, he was fully blaming you for the trauma. “Going to drop the act now? Hm?” He flicked the filter of the cigarette in your direction, with more force than needed to break the embers away. “You’re embarrassing yourself with keeping it up.”
“Eddie, I didn’t write this,” you whispered, tone practically pleading as you gripped the note with shaking hands. “You’ve gotta believe me, I don’t-”
“I know your fuckin’ handwriting,” he interjected, spoken through gritted teeth. “Don’t play dumb.”
“No, please, I promise! I swear on everything I love!” Your voice was becoming more shrill as you flailed your arms around, wishing to God that the ground would swallow you up. This was it. You’d never know Eddie’s kisses again; never know the intimate moments on late afternoons when you were wrapped up in his arms, or listen to him sing along to whatever he played on his guitar with that devastatingly beautiful voice of his. It was all snatched away from you, and you hadn’t even done anything.
“That’s your problem,” he scoffed, pointing at you with the fingers that held his cigarette between them, jabbing them at you with fury. “You don’t love anything. You’re a fucking sociopath, Carver. Just like your brother.”
His vile words made your knees buckle, sending you careening to the dirt and leaves until you kneeled in front of him, the crumbled note in your hands that rested on your lap. Hot tears welled in your eyes as you dropped your head, a sob wracking through your chest as the accusation hit you. Causing all brain function to cease as you shook your head. Over the course of your relationship, you’d never said those three little words to him. Too scared of rocking the boat, of driving him away if you said them too soon. Didn’t want to be too clingy, or too desperate, fearful of never being good enough for him and living in fear that some day he would up and leave when he found a girl who would treat him right. Wouldn’t have a brother who was one of his biggest tormentors.
“That’s not true,” you finally managed to squeak out. “I… I love you, Eddie. I’m so sorry that I never said it before but-” Your words were interrupted with another whimpered hiccup, trying to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks with the sleeve of your cardigan before trying again. “If I could turn back the clock, I’d never stop saying it. Please, just believe me when I say that I didn’t do this.” You finally looked up at him, not noticing a slight confusion that furrowed his brow, too wrapped up in your own grief and agony. “I love you, Eddie. I love you more than anything.”
Everything seemed to stop for long, agonising moments. Only the sounds of your small sobs, and his hitched breath mingling with the distant sounds of birdsong. “You… You didn’t say it,” he finally murmured, harshly driving the embers of his cigarette against the table until it was extinguished and hopping off it to take a few steps towards you.
“Wh-what?” you whimpered, flinching as he took another step.
“The note, you… It said that you told me you loved me.” His words were rushed now, his hands coming up to run harshly through his curls, giving them a small tug as the penny well and truly dropped. “But you never did. And it said that we… That we slept together, but we haven’t.”
You scanned the note again, noticing what he was talking about. The stuff about his parents was knowledge that was easy to come by if you asked the right people, considering the rumour mill in this small town was always working full time. Devil worshipping, living in a trailer park and cheap shots at his appearance? That had been flung at him since middle school. But he was right. In his haze of anger and hurt, he must have forgotten that some of the content just didn’t add up. But who would do this? Who had this much malice and scorn, that they would try and split you up like this?
The name seemed to come into both your minds at the same second, knocking against your skulls with the force of it. A person that hated his guts, and wouldn’t care if you got hurt in the process. In fact, they might see it as some sort of punishment. A consequence for your actions, that would would be criminal if they had their way.
A long few moments of silence filled the clearing, both of you trying to wrap their heads around the consequences of this encounter. Would you be able to come back from this? Would Eddie be able to forgive himself for the harsh words spat like hellfire, because of his own wounded heart? Would you be able to forgive him? Was this the end of everything, before it even had the chance to fully begin? You had fallen so hard for him, and now you felt like you were freefalling, and the anxieties that came with that feeling made your gut clench and palms sweat.
You were the first to speak. A small “oh my God,” barely audible, burying your face in your hands to try and hide away from the embarrassment and pain. Of course your brother would be the culprit behind this. And behind the agony, sparks of fury threatened to set ablaze the kindling of memories, of all the times he had made you feel less than a person. Hiding your dress hours before the Winter Formal, not caring how much you cried when you realised you weren’t going to be able to go. Breaking countless cassettes because he didn’t approve of them. Driving away potential friends because he ‘didn’t approve’. All with the knowledge that your parents saw it all, and didn’t do a thing to stop it. Jason was the golden child. The star basketball player, the popular one, the one who could never do something wrong. You knew that, all you life, you knew. But now, being with Eddie, a person that thought you hung the moon and saw you, really saw you, and loved you with such a warm intensity that it seeped through every fibre of you being? You weren’t ready to give that up. Not for anything.
You heard movement from in front of you; a heavy thump as you opened your eyes to find him kneeling in front of you, knees framing the outsides of your own. His dark eyes so filled with regret and shame, that it hurt to look at. His shaky hands came towards you, yet stopped when he realised that maybe you didn’t want him to touch you. Perhaps thinking that maybe you just… Couldn’t forgive him. “Baby, I-I’m so sorry… Please, can we talk-”
It was instinct that drove you to launch yourself at him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and burying your face into the crook of his neck, nearly knocking him off balance. You felt him coil his arms around you in return, a hand on the back of your neck and his forearm against the small of your back, pressing you close to his chest. “I-It wasn’t me,” you mumbled, muffled by his skin and hoping he could hear you because of it. “J-Jason…”
“Ssh, it’s okay,” he softly cooed, the hand resting at your waist gently rubbing at the skin there to soothe you. “I know. I know it wasn’t you, okay? A-and I’m so sorry for what I said. I was so wrong, and I was an asshole, and it’s okay if you don’t forgive me because it was such an awful thing to say, a-and…”
You knew that he rambled whenever he was upset, and though the sorrow was still there, a fondness seeped through you at the reminder of his little habits. A warmth in the knowledge that this was fixable, and that you had the luxury of time in the relationship to fix the heartache that this had caused. “You don’t need to apologise,” you said softly, head raising to meet his own, forehead pressed against his. “You were hurt, and I understand. It was such an awful thing they did to you, Eddie. I just wish I could say sorry on my brother’s behalf.”
“You don’t need to do that,” he frowned. “Please don’t ever apologise for other people’s actions. Especially not your dickhead of a brother.” The jab at Jason made you abruptly smile at the sentiment, and he mirrored it as he shifted his legs to pull you to sit in his lap. “Because I was wrong. Carver is your last name, but you’re nothin’ like him, sweetheart. You’re kind, and funny, and so smart. Beautiful, too.”
The compliments made your cheeks warm as you let out a small giggle, shaking your head a fraction as you bit your bottom lip. “Stop…” The whine was small, and playful. God, you never wanted him to stop loving you with his words. Not really.
As if he knew, he rose to the challenge, capturing your lips in his own with a soft and brief kiss. “Pretty,” he whispered against your lips, adding another kiss. “Talented.” Another kiss, though to the side of your mouth. “Brave.” One at you jaw. “Thoughtful.” The word pressed into your neck, and you could feel him smile against the skin there. “You wan’ me to keep going, or are you gonna give in and let me adore you?”
“I give in,” you squealed, hurt temporarily forgotten at the tender affection that he gave. Happy to share a few moments in his embrace, enjoying the warmth and tenderness that you would never grow tired of. You allowed the silence to settle for only a few heartbeats, before you finally broke it. “I meant it, you know.”
He came into view again, a small smile on his lips as his eyebrows slightly furrowed in questioning. “Meant what, angel?”
“That I love you.” The words came easier now; now that they could come from the heart, each syllable laced with loving intent. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but… I mean it. I’ve fallen in love with you, Eddie Munson.”
The grin that overtook his face was an incredible sight. His eyes crinkling with the ferocity of it, happiness seeping from every pore. “I love you too, sweetheart. So fuckin’ much.”
The lunch bell must have rung out a long time ago, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Not when you were kissing him like this, and he was returning them with a matching earnestness. You kissed until your lips were slightly bruised, barely coming up for air before coming back for more. So in love, your heart so full that it was a near ache. You only stopped when you felt the soft patters of rain on the crown of your head, looking up to find the skies a deep grey, threatening to let the heavens open. He helped you up onto wobbly legs, his arm around you as you made your way back to the school for shelter.
You noticed his apprehension as you got closer, and you knew exactly why. He was worried that if Jason saw you together, he would make both your lives hell. But with this little stunt your brother tired to pull, that kindling of rebellion had been well and truly set alight. You no longer wanted Jason to make decisions for you. Eddie Munson was the love of your life. And you didn’t give a single fuck who knew it. Placing your hand on his where it rested on your shoulder, you looked up at him with a smile. A silent plea to keep it there, and one he seemed to acknowledge as he pulled you closer.
“Can I come over tonight, after school?” you asked him, voice hopeful as you bit your lip.
“’Course you can,” he answered with a grin. “Was thinking about taking you for a milkshake at that diner you like, actually. Could drop by there before we get to mine, if you want?”
It was an invitation to go public, and you knew that. A lot of the teenagers at your school went to that diner, and it wouldn’t be long before word got back to your brother about your involvement with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that. Hope filled you as you tilted your head. “Like a date?”
“Like a date,” he echoed, pecking a kiss to your temple. “Never took you out on one before, and that’s kind of a shitty boyfriend move. How ‘bout it, sweetheart? Wanna finally have that first date I owe you?”
A grin spread over your features as the school finally came into view. You were about to walk the halls of Hawkins high, your boyfriend finally by your side and his arm over your shoulders, just like you finally wanted. Screw what anyone else wanted.
“I’d like that.”
3K notes · View notes
strawberri-elixir · 5 months
Text
Sleepless nights
╰⇢ 5. “I’m not jealous”
Warnings: none… except a joke about yuta having a kill list
note: MORE WRITING :> i’m sure you guys are tired of it
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“What are you two weirdos doing.” You watch Maki and Yuta sending each other odd looks. Was this really because they were arguing over who was your best friend?
“Nothing.” Maki crosses her arms as she looks away, clearly pouting.
“Uh huh.” You give her an unamused look before looking at Yuta with the same look.
“What?” He shoots you an innocent look. “Oh and I want you to meet that friend I was telling you about!”
You watch as Yuta calls out to someone from the other side of the room, motioning for them to join your table group. As the summoned boy approaches, you start to notice some… oddly familiar features.
Platinum blond hair, hazel eyes… a surgical mask (which you found a little odd). Despite wearing a mask during your nighttime adventures with Yuta, you never wore it at school to avoid any unnecessary attention.
But something about the boy in front of you with the mask just gave you a sense of déjà vu. Like you’ve seen him somewhere before…
“It’s you!” The pieces finally clicked.
“You know him?” Maki gives you a surprised look.
“He’s the hot weirdo I was telling you about!” You pointed at the boy.
Maki just stared at you, an amused expression on her face. One awkward cough from Yuta later and you realized you spoke a little bit louder than you expected.
“My bad. Sorry about that.” You awkwardly smiled.
“Well this is Toge Inumaki. He’s the friend who i’ve been meaning to introduce to you guys for a while actually.” Yuta smiles slightly.
“Nice to meet you!” You chuckle.
“Yo.” Maki gives him a nod, which the blond returns.
“So, Inumaki! Tell me a little about yourself!” You focus your attention on the newest member of your table group.
Inumaki doesn’t respond. At least not verbally. Instead, he pulls out a little notebook and flips to an empty sheet and hands you the book.
‘I’ll answer whatever questions you have’ The paper reads.
You happily take out a pen of your own, writing down all sorts of questions that you could possibly have for the boy.
‘How old are you?’
‘17’
‘What’s your favourite food?’
‘Tuna mayo onigiri’
The two of you eventually take turns exchanging questions ranging from simple hobbies to deep philosophical questions, completely oblivious to your other desk mates.
Yuta stared at you smiling at Inumaki, an ugly feeling settling in his stomach. He had to physically cover his view of the two of you in order to divert his attention.
“I didn’t know you were friends with Inumaki.” Maki raises an eyebrow at the boy.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Met him in English since he sits right next to me.” Yuta shrugs, looking back at you and Inumaki scribbling away on a sheet of paper.
The two of you continued to communicate through paper for the rest of class, occasionally pretending to pay attention to the teacher to avoid getting in trouble. And before you knew it, the bell had rung, telling everyone it was finally the end of the day.
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You happily packed your bags and walked out of the room with Yuta and Maki. “See you tomorrow!” You waved to the blond boy before you left.
“Any fun plans tonight?” Maki yawned.
“Nope.” You and Yuta responded in unison. A smile appearing on your face as the two of you look at each other.
“Maybe I’ll stop by later.” Yuta gives you a smile.
“I’ll be waiting then!” You grin.
“Alright lovebirds, I’m off, see you guys tomorrow.” Maki waves as she stops at her locker. “Don’t do anything gross.” The teasing was clearly directed at Yuta, but he made no attempt to make that obvious.
You shoot the girl a smirk before wrapping your arm around Yuta, giving her a sly grin. “Who knows? Because unlike you, we enjoy physical contact with each other.”
You’re so absorbed in your playful banter that you totally miss the way the face of the boy next to you turns red. Regardless, he shakes it off before the two of you continue down the hall.
Boy was he thankful of your obliviousness.
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Masterlist | Next
new character met! ╰⇢ Inumaki!
- congratulations! you've successfully met everyone! -
fun facts:
— maki and yuta are always fighting over who is your favourite person (yuta has a one up on maki because he’s your childhood best friend)
— aside from maki, nobara was the first of your friends to notice yuta’s longing looks at you (megumi is a close second) which then sparked the beginning of the ‘cupids’ group chat
— inumaki was actually the one to talk to yuta first in their english class
— maki’s pov in the ‘cupids’ chat <3
taglist:
@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny @instantmusico @sad-darksoul
290 notes · View notes
ellephlox · 2 years
Text
Obstinacy
Summary: You get sick and refuse to let Matt help you because you don’t want him to get sick, too — the question is, how long can you keep him away?
Pairing: Matt x fem!reader
Warnings: Some gross pneumonia descriptions, light swearing, nothing else!
A/N: So I’ve been away for awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been trying to write my own book and I finished the second draft, so taking the time for fan fiction has been on the back burner lately. But of course with the RETURN OF OUR BELOVED KING on She-Hulk, I had to take the time to write something because IM STILL FREAKING OUT GUYS MATT IS BACK AND HES SO AMAZING AND HOT AND ALLSKJF LSDKFJLSKDJFLSDK
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You felt the chest pain on your way home from work — the kind that arrived out of nowhere, as though it dropped from the sky into your lungs, and seriously made you wonder how colds were able to work that quickly. 
Of course, maybe it wasn’t a cold. You kept your hopes up as you cooked dinner, testing your chest a few times with a few large intakes of breath, but each time was the same result: a small tickle in the back, like a little voice saying, Hey, I’m here, and you’re going to be miserable for the next couple of days! 
Which really stunk, if you were being honest. It was getting towards mid-October and you were hoping to carve pumpkins with Matt or do some other corny autumn activity that every other normal couple did in the city. Not that you two weren’t normal. But other couples didn’t really have to contend with the whole I’ll-see-you-later-honey-after-I-beat-up-some-bad-guys-tonight, and you figured it must make movie nights a lot more frequent for most people than it did for you and Matt. That was another thing on your list, too — watching a horror movie to get into the Halloween spirit. 
“I’m not into horror movies,” Matt had said when you’d pitched the idea to him. “Audio commentary kind of kills the whole scary aspect.”
“Then you’re watching the wrong movies. I don’t mean movies with gallons of blood and cheap jump scares. I mean psychological horrors, the kinds that make you stay awake at night because they’re that freaky. We’re doing it, Murdock, whether you want to or not.”
Whether you want to or not, however, didn’t include the extenuating circumstances of getting sick.
It took longer than usual to get up the stairs to your apartment. You felt so drained that you wouldn’t have minded showering and then crashing into bed, if you weren’t hungry. The wind rattled at your windows as you cooked a big pot of rice, enough to last the next few days. You’d bought fixings yesterday to make a homemade curry with it, but one look at your pantry and you scrapped those plans in exchange for half a jar of pesto with a dubious expiration date on it. Matt wasn’t supposed to be over until after seven in the evening, thanks to the unforgiving hours of lawyering, but you called him as you stirred the pesto in with the rice. 
“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said. His voice was lighthearted. 
“Hi,” you said, as casually as possible. “How was your day?”
“I officially reduced the pile of paperwork on my desk from ten inches high to eight inches high, so I’d call it a success. You at your place?”
“Yeah. Hey, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m coming down with something, so maybe you should stay at your own place tonight.” Before Matt could ask, you added, “I’m fine. Just one of the colds that’s going around. But I’d feel horrible if you got it.”
“What about the pumpkins?”
“Pumpkins can wait. I haven’t even bought them yet.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, and your stomach flipped. What a way to boost my self-esteem that he actually likes me. “How about we just don’t share sodas, then?”
You frowned. “Last time this happened, I told you to stay away from me and then you just ended up kissing me. The next day, lo and behold, you started coughing. So, no. Not happening.”
“You kissed me, if I remember correctly.”
“Excuse me? What kind of a lawyer are you? That’s gaslighting, sir.”
He continued, ignoring you. “Maybe I’ll just hear some suspicious noises coming from your apartment tonight. And then I’ll have to investigate, because it’s my civic duty as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And when I see a beautiful girl, sitting on the couch and pathetically eating rice and pesto alone, I’ll just have to join her. Accidentally, of course.”
“What I’m interpreting from that is that you go cuddle up with any girl that you find eating alone in her apartment.”
“What I’m interpreting is that Matt says he’s doing all these dangerous things at night but really he’s just chilling out while enjoying the lavish praise of being a local superhero,” Foggy said, his voice distant in the background. 
You snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”
“No,” Foggy answered, sounding far too cheerful for someone working far beyond sunset. “Matt just keeps his phone volume weirdly high for someone who supposedly has super-hearing.”
“I do have super-hearing, Foggy.”
“Then how are you not shattering your eardrums? Between your phone volume and crashing at girls’ apartments to eat rice and pesto, I’m really doubting this whole Daredevil façade,” Foggy said. 
“Anyway,” Matt cut in, “I’ll pop in tonight, just to bring over some food and meds. Do you want anything specific?”
“Matt, really. I don’t want you catching this. And it’s late, you should get home and actually get some sleep for once. I’m fine, it just feels like a cold.” You would have elaborated, but your chest decided to seize at that moment, and you had to trail off quickly before it became apparent in your voice. 
He sort of listened to you that night. He had swung by (through the window? Or with the spare key you’d given him? There was no way to know) and dropped off food, but it was while you were asleep, and it looked as though he’d only gone into the kitchen then left. 
You’d only found the food when you wandered in blearily at three in the morning, sweating and freezing at the same time. There was no point for the thermometer; a fever was obvious and you didn’t particularly care what the number was. The cough was worse, though. It made it hard to fall back asleep — every few seconds you’d feel as though your lungs were spasming, and the back of your throat felt as though it had been bitten by fire ants. 
Sirens rang in the distance. You hoped it wasn’t for something Matt was involved in; not because you didn’t trust him to handle it, but because it was three in the morning and you’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sleeping at this point. 
Then the headache hit you. Maybe you wouldn’t be kicking his ass anytime soon. 
The pressure was enough to make you stumble into the counter as you rummaged for a glass of water. Everything about your arms felt off, as though your muscles had been crushed into powder, and you misjudged your grasp on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor and skating outwards like a nebula of knives. Automatically you reached for the paper towels, and in your haze you stepped forward. 
Barefooted. 
Glass crunched under your foot and you swore, not at the pain but at your own stupidity. It took another half an hour to bandage up the bottom of your foot and at that point you were too exhausted to finish cleaning up the glass. 
When you woke up next, sun was filtering through your curtains and your mouth was as dry as though you’d swallowed ten cotton swabs. Dazed, you picked up your phone, and squinted at the notifications; one missed call from Matt and a followup text. Quickly you sent him an I’m okay message and then fell back onto your pillow. 
The fever felt worse. Goosebumps ran up and down your legs, but you were simultaneously sweaty under your sheets, so you threw them off to go shower. Only then did you remember the glass you’d stepped on because your foot protested angrily as soon as you placed it onto the carpet. 
Hopping was the only option remaining, and that expended just about every ounce of energy you’d garnered while sleeping, so that you just about collapsed against the bathroom wall, wheezing, by the time you’d made it. And of course that was when your phone rang, so you hopped back to your room, and barely made it in time before it went to voicemail. 
“Hello?” you croaked. 
“That’s all I need to hear. I’m coming over.”
“I... what?”
“Yeah. You sound terrible, Y/N.” Matt’s voice was overly concerned, and you didn’t like it at all; you could practically feel the pity coming off of him. At least, it felt like pity. And that wasn’t what you wanted. 
“Matt, not only will I personally make you rue the day that you step foot in here while I’m sick, but—” You broke off, coughing, and wincing at the same time because you could imagine Matt’s expression on the other end.
“I don’t like talking to you over the phone,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not hearing your heartbeat, hearing your lungs, feeling your temperature. You’re being overruled. I’m coming.”
“Don’t you have to be at the court today?”
“Not until ten.”
Defeated, you flung the phone on the other side of the room. That conversation sucked out everything you had, and you gave up on the idea of taking a shower. The bed looked much more comfortable. It didn’t help that your breaths were getting alarmingly short, and it was difficult to draw in anything more than a quick inhale. Your eyes were closed for about five seconds before they popped back open. 
Matt was coming. Damn it, damn it, damn it. You went to the windows and locked them all, then crossed to the front door. He had a spare key, but you also had a bolt, and you slid it across, feeling somewhat proud of yourself for having made the trek to the entryway. The bar is very, very low at this point. 
You’d run a marathon right now before letting Matt get anywhere near you. That resolve was the only thing penetrating the fog around your head, and you double-checked the windows again. It wasn’t as though he’d be leaping and climbing up to them, anyway; he was coming from the office, and would therefore be in his lawyer suit. With the number of people down on the streets and the broad daylight, Matt would be hard-pressed to make it up to your fire escape without the newspaper headline being BLIND ACROBAT BREAKING AND ENTERING IN HELL’S KITCHEN the next day. 
Sure enough, ten minutes later Matt was outside your door, and his sharp rap on the door did nothing to make you move. You sat at the counter, sipping on some water, and shook your head. “Nope. Not happening.”
“Y/N, I can hear the crackling in your lungs,” he said, his patience more intact than you would have expected. He thinks he’s going to win.
“My lungs aren’t crackling. They’re just... not feeling so hot.” Now overly-conscious of your breathing, you tried to make your breaths smoother and less obviously sick. 
There was a pause on the other side of the door. “You’ve got too fast of a heartbeat. Unlock the bolt or I’ll kick the door down.”
“Yeah, my heart’s racing, because there’s a man threatening to kick my door down,” you said, and feeling inspired, you clicked the on button of the remote next to you. The television flashed to life, showing the weather report, and you turned the volume up. Take that, Matt. “See? No more lung crackling or racing heartbeats.”
The only issue was that now you could hardly hear him. You barely made out his next sentence, it was so faint on the other side of the door. “I can still hear both, you know,” he said, muffled. “You know how many televisions there are in the average block of apartments that I have to filter out every single night?”
“Shit.” You shut the television off. “Listen away, then. It’s not going to change anything because I’m not letting you in.” 
“I wasn’t kidding about kicking the door down.”
"And I’m not kidding about not letting you in. Plus, you’d have some tough questions to answer when my neighbors report you for kicking down my door, Devil Man.”
“Why won’t you accept help when you need it? You really need a doctor.”
“Hypocrite,” you said under your breath, relishing the fact that he could hear you.
“I can hear you.” Just as you’d expected. “And what I do is irrelevant to the fact that you’re currently sitting in your apartment with what’s probably pneumonia.”
“Oh, it’s not pneumonia,” you said dismissively, though you felt awful enough that he was probably right. At least, your lungs seemed to concur with that diagnosis, and as if to verbally agree with him you coughed, wheezing and choking for air.  
“If I didn’t have to be at the court in half an hour, I’d go home and get into the suit just to have an excuse to come through your window right now.” Matt was pissed, that was for sure. There was a dangerous undertone to his voice, softened only by that ever-present concern in what he was saying. 
“I know, Matt.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a lost cause, alright? Tomorrow I’ll be feeling a lot better and then maybe — maybe — I’ll let you come in. And that’s if we keep all the windows open for fresh air and—”
“Why do I smell your blood?”
You glanced down at your foot. Traitor. It had stopped bleeding ages ago, but you should’ve changed the bandage again one more time before Matt showed up. “I’m... doing acupuncture. On myself.”
“Y/N.”
“Fine. I made a blood oath and pricked my thumb to assure myself that I will never, ever let you catch a sickness from me.”
“In ten seconds this door is coming down unless you tell me. And if you could hear my heartbeat, you’d know I’m not lying.”
“Fine! I just stepped on some glass, okay? But my foot is fine, it’s seen worse days. I mean, you should’ve seen that time that I got a pedicure and the lady told me my heels were the most cracked she’d seen in a long time.” You were rambling, and that wasn’t a good idea, because it made you lose your breath and then you were gasping for air. 
After another five minutes of arguing that ended only when you swore to call the doctor if you got any worse, he left, grumbling that Foggy would kill both of you if he was late for court, and that was the only reason he was giving up — “temporarily”. 
Only when it was too late did you realize that was a mistake, and that you should have let him help.  
It was past two in the afternoon when you woke up from a nap, and every muscle in your body felt as though it were frozen. You were trembling slightly from the cold, but couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up and grab the blanket at the foot of your bed. It was difficult to swallow, and you clutched at your throat, certain that someone must be standing over you and clasping their hands around your neck, but there was no one there. 
“Matt,” you whispered, expecting him to be there, or to hear you, but there was no one. Taking slow breaths, you tried to calm down on your own. One, two, three. One, two, three. All you could manage were short, raspy breaths that hardly got enough air, and your head pounded. Blindly you reached out for your glass of water, and nearly dropped it again, your hands were shaking so much. The feeling of your lips against the rim was like pressing a dried sponge to the edge of a bowl and the water tasted sour in your mouth. 
And then you tried swallowing. It was as though someone had blocked up your throat, because you couldn’t swallow, and you gasped, heart racing as panic flooded through you; for a moment you couldn’t breathe and then you finally coughed up the water, chest heaving from the sharpness of each cough. You grabbed a tissue, hacking into it for at least another thirty seconds, and finally a glob of mucus came up and your airway cleared up just enough that you could breathe a bit more. 
You almost tossed the tissue to the floor without looking at it, but a flash of red caught your eye. 
Blood. In the mucus. 
That was the tipping point for you. Didn’t people die shortly after coughing up blood in the movies? That was how it went. A character coughs, looks into their hand, and then resignedly tucks it away without the other characters seeing. It was like the knoll of death, ringing in your ears. 
You hardly knew what you were doing as you dialed Matt’s number, not even thinking about what you were tapping into your phone but allowing muscle memory to guide you. 
“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately. 
“Matt—” You started to speak his name, but halted; it was too painful. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you started over. “Matt, I think I need you here.”
“What? What is it?” 
“I’m—” You glanced down at the tissue. Literally dying here? That was a surefire way to make Matt have a heart attack. “I’m not doing so well. I might take you up on your offer to help.”
He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in five minutes. Did you call the doctor already?”
“No.” The thought of calling the doctor was exhausting on its own. 
Matt seemed to notice that. “I’ll call,” he assured you. “Can you breathe alright?”
“Not really.” Tears were spiking in your eyes and you brushed them away. “I just coughed and... there was some blood in it.” You wheezed for breath, the drawing in of air rattling everything inside of you and getting caught at the top of your throat.
“I’m taking you to a hospital.”
“But—”
“No, sweetheart. You need a real doctor. I’ll be over in a minute.”
Somehow you must have fallen asleep again, because Matt was lifting you from the bed and you wrapped your arms around him. “Can’t breathe,” you whispered, gasping for breath. 
“I know. I can hear your lungs,” Matt said, voice strained. “I’ve got a cab waiting on the street. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”
“I... I can walk.” You slung an arm around him and made your way slowly out of the room, limping with every step on your bandaged foot. Matt, to his credit, allowed you to do what you could. His tie was loosened and his suit jacket was gone, but he still wore a button-down, tucked into his pants. 
“Bet you won your case, then,” you whispered, hardly even aware of what was coming out of your mouth. “No one can... say no to this.”
“This?”
“Hm. This.” You meant to nod up and down at Matt, but it came across as more of a head shake. “You.”
And then your assertion that you could walk proved difficult to fulfill, so you redirected your efforts to not face-planting in your living room, despite the strong, steady hands Matt kept on you the entire time. Once you reached your stairs he took over for the most part; your feet were hardly touching the ground with the amount of support he was giving. 
That was where your memory cut out. You must have passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, it was in the hospital bed, and Matt was reading next to you, his long gaze fixed on the wall in front of him as his fingers danced over the text. 
“Hi,” you whispered lamely. Everything about you was groggy and it was hard enough just to focus on him. 
Him. Only he could look handsome in a hospital. At some point he’d exchanged the suit for a tee shirt and sweats, and his hair stuck out at every angle possible. You wondered vaguely if he’d come from Fogwell’s. 
He set the book down, relief evident on his face. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”
You ignored his question. “How do you always manage to look good?”
He nudged you. “I should be the one asking you that.”
“That’s... the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even if you weren’t blind, it’d be a lie.” You closed your eyes, then opened them again. The ceiling was too white. “What happened?”
"Aspiration pneumonia.”
“Hm?”
“You have aspiration pneumonia,” he said. “Which just happens to be a type of pneumonia that’s not contagious.”
You meditated on this. “So?”
“So you could’ve let me into your apartment, that whole time,” he said, looking distinctly indignant, and it was enough to make you laugh. The laugh was short-lived, because it quickly transformed into a wracking cough that made your entire chest throb, but Matt was on his feet in an instant, holding your hand.
Only when the coughing stopped did you remember the bolt on your door. “Matt?”
“Yeah?”
“How’d you get in?”
“Broke down the door, like I promised.”
“Are... are you serious? What about the neighbors?”
He laughed. “You know, breaking down a door isn’t incriminating evidence that I’m Daredevil. I told them you were having an emergency, and when they saw you, they believed me.”
“They saw me?” You didn’t remember an audience when Matt was helping you out of the apartment.
“Well, you were taking your sweet time on the stairs, and coughing loudly enough for anyone in a mile radius to hear you, so yeah, they wanted to see what was happening.”
You buried your face in your hands. “That’s just great. And now, what, is my apartment wide open for anyone to go in?”
“No, I called in a favor with Foggy, and he’s hanging out there until someone can come in and fix it.”
“Even better. Now I’m indebted to Foggy.”
Matt smiled coyly. “Oh, and I should mention—”
“Oh, no. What?”
“—that there’s something else you’ll love about all of this.”
“Stop smiling like that. Why are you smiling like that?”
“Aspiration pneumonia is commonly associated with the institutionalized elderly. In other words, it’s a nursing home problem.”
“A nursing home problem?”
“A nursing home problem,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe for your next birthday I could get you fitted for dentures.”
“Hilarious. Really, so funny. You really should have been a comedian. I swear to you that the next time you get sick, I’m going to make fun of you and you’ll never hear the end of it. Got it?”
He grinned and squeezed your hand. “Murdocks don’t get sick.”
“That is the second biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I seem to recall that time you projectile-vomited off of the Ferris wheel.”
“Because I was motion-sick, not sick-sick.”
Your eyelids were already getting heavy just from the five-minute conversation. You beckoned him closer and leaned onto his shoulder, pressing yourself into his warmth. He smelled like fresh deodorant and coffee. “Pumpkin carving as soon as I can leave?”
“Definitely,” he said, placing your fingers onto the pulse that drummed under his wrist. “And this time, I’m not lying.”
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the0racl30fd3lphi · 1 year
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More than friends, definitely more than lovers x.t. (pt3)
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a/n: here is the third and (maybe) final part. y'all ate this up and really loved the first two, and for that i am so thankful for you all! so please, enjoy.
pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader
summary: nevermore's favorite tortured couple seems to be back on the mends, the only question, will it work out? are they going to make it through or are they only going to make it worse?
warnings: fluff, angst, love triangle (kinda) light swearing? not much tho, suggestive themes
word count: 2,365
part 1 part 2
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"Hey," he smiled. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter. It was if he couldn't believe you were really there. Like he dreamed of this moment, and now that he has it, he truly couldn't comprehend if it was actually real or not. But it was. And his heart soared at that thought.
Standing there, you made no move to speak. You were waiting for him to say anything first. You wouldn't let yourself fall on your knees for him like your mind told you too. So you looked up right into his eyes, using every method you knew to make him bend to your will.
"Don't give me that look," For the one time in almost a month he looked way from you first.
"What look?" You played dumb.
"That one!" he threw one of his hands up and shook his head. "The one that makes me want to crawl at your feet and start.. begging." He still looked down as he ran his hands through his hear and went to grab for a hair tie. At his point he needed to get all the hair out of his face before he went to rip it all out.
"That sounds pretty nice actually, you should beg." You crossed your arms trying to keep in your anger, whatever was keeping him from apologizing was running your patience thin.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Xavier kept his head down but kept fiddling with the rings that adorned his slender fingers. "I was an asshole. You deserved much more than what I gave you. The last thing I should've done was.. what I did."
He was hesitant to actually acknowledge that he ignored you, his best friend of years, for a girl who genuinely gave him little to zero attention, got him arrested and imprisoned, and who wasn't actually into him after she led him on for so long.
"Oh yes and please, remind what it was that you did?" Now your anger was quite literally smoke blowing out of your ears. You missed this guy? He's wanted this little meeting for so long and he can't even commit to it.
"Well I-" He stuttered.
"Oh my god you can't even admit to it! You make me so frustrated!" You were yelling straight in his face now.
"Like, sexually?" This skinny little twink had the audacity to make a joke about your rage and start laughing at his own jokes.
"Why did I even entertain this stupid idea.." You pushed your headphones back onto your head and started for the stairs.
"Okay wait, wait hold up!" Xavier grabbed onto your arm and pulled you back towards him. With one slick movement he pulled them down to rest around your neck, and slid his hands down your arms to grab your hands. He stroked the back of your hands with thumbs smoothly.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you like that. I ignored you, abandoned you, treated you so horribly for how much more you actually deserve. So please, if you find me deserving," Xavier got down on one knee, hand still in yours, and looked up at you with those big green eyes. "Forgive me, lets go back to what we were, and I will be forever at your mercy."
"Wow. Poetic. You write now?" You tilted your head at him and raised your brows so far, they almost disappeared into your hair. But the corners of your mouth can't help but lift.
"I dabble," his smile grew four times as large and made your stomach flip, in the good way.
"How about you dabble in being a better friend?" You laughed and pulled him up by the hand he was still holding. You weren't sure if he still realized but neither of you had let go yet.
Playfully, and to diffuse some of the lingering tension, you lightly shoved him and walked back up the stairs to leave this spooky little library. He laughed and followed after quickly, skipping two steps as he jumped up the stairs.
"Aye aye, captain."
——————————————————————————
It'd been a week since you and Xavier started talking again, he was attached at your hip. He worshiped the ground you walked on and to an extent it was hilarious. Beyond that you ate it up. This was as close to the attention you have craved from him for years as you were gonna get.
"See, now at this point I don't know if he's whipped or if you are," Val rolled from her desk, all the way to you at yours. One look at the polaroid's littered all over your desk, extra drawings, some pinned while some hidden, and soon she gagged.
"Shut up," You pushed her head off your shoulder but you couldn't push the smile off your face. Your eyes couldn't leave the most recent polaroid pinned on your mirror, written underneath "idiots in love" because Val thought she was the funniest bitch in the world. The photo itself was from a movie night you had with the whole group. Xavier and you had fallen asleep on the couch, not that close to each other, but close enough to have reached for each other subconsciously. Ajax snapped the photo and after your best friend wrote all over it he gave it to you later when people weren't paying attention and everything had died down.
"Why don't you just tell him you love him?" Val grabbed a pen from your desk and start drawing all over your hand and your forearm.
"I just got him back, I can't lose him again." You sighed and pushed up your sleeve and gave her more access room. Val stopped short for a minuet to look up into your eyes. She could read you like a poorly written magazine. It was in your eyes, everything she needed to know.
The desperation, the longing, the aching, she had to take a softer approach with you otherwise you'd break. Not that you were fragile, but you were.
"Sometimes you have to take risks, you'll never know if you don't try babe." Her hand came up to hold and stroke your cheek, "You should try. Isn't the risk of a love so great it'd go down in history, worth it?"
And it was if your love was a force so large, bound by gravity's thick lasso, you were pulled towards him. Unable and unwilling to stop yourself.
"Yeah, it is."
——————————————————————————
You realized some new things after talking to Val that night. Love made you poetic, you were up all night thinking about how your words were not your own, but merely fragments of the words he had given your soul to sing.
Oh god you were pathetic. So you did the only levelheaded thing you could do, tell Xavier everything and be rational later.
He was in his art shed late at night, music quietly pushing through the walls and finding their way thought every crevice. You pounded on the door and waited for him to open the door. You fiddled with the scarf that rested around your neck while you waited. After not hearing anything for a while you knocked again, louder this time.
Soon enough he opened the door and turned down the music when he saw you, "Hey, what's up?" He grabbed your hand and pulled you through the doorway and close it behind you.
"Xavier, look-" You cut yourself off after taking a glace around the shed. There was a painting, or a charcoal sketch, or a character study of you. Everywhere. Every 3 square feet, to be exact. "It's me?"
He laughed nervously, "Uh yeah." A hand came up to scratch and then readjust his still wet hair. "The distance kinda drove me mad, and you were some good inspiration." One new thing and your relationship with Xavier, he told you everything now. Full, and total, transparency. The music kept playing in the background and the low lighting provided the most insane ambiance for the possibly stupid decision you were about to make.
"Xavier I need to tell you something," You shed your scarf and sweater and placed it on the nearest chair. "It's really important." You looked into his eyes and all the words seemed to have magically left your mind, as well as all logical thought.
The way he was looking at you, sat on the edge of a nearby desk, arm propped up behind him to keep him steady. "Mhm?" He asked so innocently it drove you mad.
"I love you." You bit the bullet and spouted all the words that had been building up for quite literal ages. He flushed such a bright red it almost matched the color of his shirt.
"Y-You're my best friend," You cut him off by shaking your head vigorously.
"No. No no, Xavier, I love you." You'd never seen him so quiet. Blinking, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as if it was like swallowing was all he could do.
You rushed up to him and grabbed the side of his face, gently but eagerly attaching his lips to yours. You gave him time to respond, to push you off, to pull you closer, to do anything, and when nothing came you pulled away. Faces inches from each other all you did was stare in his eyes. So disheartened, you started to move backwards.
Xavier stood to his full height now and pulled you closer to him, both of his hands now up and resting on your face. His hands were so big they traced your jawline and caressed the side of your neck. Both of your mouths now moving slowly and sensually against each others. You brought up your hands to rest your palms against the back of his, a soft grip warming your hands and hearts.
Eventually oxygen was needed so you had to pull away. His hands stayed in place and yours only gripped his harder. Eye contact kept between you two mixed with the sound of your lungs greedily pulling air in and out. Smile crept up your faces and you started laughing. Both of you could barely grasp what was happening, all you knew was that you genuinely were never happier.
Following his arms your hands moved to the back of his neck, and his fell down to your waist. Years of pent up pining had come to this. Naturally you two became greedy. Panting and grabbing at each other for more. Your arm went pull around his neck and your other hand grabbed a fistful of his hair pulling and tugging. When you pulled a little too hard and a low groan escaped his mouth into yours, and the grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel his fingers digging into your skin, you only wanted more.
Things got desperate and hot fast. Xavier lowered his hands ever so slightly to creep up underneath your shirt and his cold palms set something afire in you. The simple touch of his skin on yours made you gasp, and he took the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue.
Almost as soon as it had started, he started pulling away. "Wait, love wait," he pulled away from you and pushed the hair out of your face while studying it with his eyes.
"Did I do something?" Insecurity started to fill you as now you had a chance to think, though your mind was foggy.
"Do something? No, my girl you could never," He stroked the side of your face and pressed his forehead against yours. "Do you really mean this?"
"Sure would be real stupid if I didn't, huh?" You laughed and ran a hand through his hair. You two just took a minute to look in each others eyes, to take it all in.
"I love you." Xavier repeated back to you.
"I mean I'd hope so, that would suck if you didn't," Very quickly you returned to humor as your coping mechanism. He shook his head and pressed one more quick kiss to your lips.
"Ask me the stupid question already," You smiled and grabbed his hands.
"Y'know, patience is a virtue," He started tracing the veins on your hands. You looked at him and tugged on his arms gently. "Will you be my partner?" He tilted his head at the end of the question, what a bottom.
"No."
"What?"
"I'm joking, shut up and kiss me," You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.
"Yes ma'am," He leaned back in and captured your lips with his.
——————————————————————————
When you got back to your dorm that night, lips swollen with a few hickeys poorly hidden by your poorly applied scarf, Val raised her eyebrows and immediately sat you down to talk. You spent hours that night going over it, every detail you could recall. Which was every single detail.
Into the late hours of the night, Val eventually fell sleep right next to you, face smashed into your pillow and a light snore escaping her lips every few minutes. Your blanket was pulled over her and you stared at the ceiling, too giddy to fall asleep just yet. Xavier had already texted you "i love you" and "goodnight my love <3" Of course you responded and you stared at your new home and lock screen, a photo of you and Xavier on a weekend trip to Jericho.
Then, at the genuine ass crack of dawn as the sun started rising, you remembered a promise you had made him years ago, when you were still young.
"I promise, I'll prove to them your heart beats the same way as theirs."
And you couldn't help but think you'd done it. He was so very capable of love and you only helped bring that out in him. Whatever the future had in store for you, you could handle it now. At least now with Xavier at your side you can.
Who could've ever imagined that you would've fallen so deeply in love with this boy? Against all odds, it seems, you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Infatuated like a poor man, and completely at his mercy.
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@animesimp3456 @iovaki @navs-bhat @hellllloooosstuff @555stargirl555 @quinn165 @raeboo @heehooyeslol @leyseyb @aunicornmademedoit @regulus-black-223048 @o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o @pagesfalling @fanfictioniseverything @trickylittlewitch @baziutawrites @mxltifxnd0m @l-3rk @gumballsglassofmilk @bloodyziggy @ur-mom-is-h0t
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wonfilms · 1 month
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genre: fluff | word count: 0.8k
warnings: a little bit of kissing, 7 minutes in heaven | a/n: maybe this is my 3rd time writing for hee recently but dykw i'm proud now. this was so word vomit icl
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out of all the things you were planning on doing friday night, being trapped in a cramped closet with lee heeseung was not at the top of your list...  it was dark, and hell you couldn’t even see the boy, but knowing his annoyingly pretty face was right in front of you made your stomach churn more than you wanted it to.
“this is… nice” he speaks, sarcastically. you catch the glimmer of his eyes.. “yep… so.. nice.” you reply, hearing the laughter echoing right outside the door.. jake teases from outside the door, “just kiss already~! time's ticking!”. you could see heeseung roll his eyes even in the darkness. then another slightly muffled voice comes from outside again, “they both like each other what’s taking them so long!?” 
you could you weren’t supposed to hear that from the way you could quite literally see heeseung’s face drop resulting in a deep blush of embarrassment.
you smirk taking the opportunity to try and meet his eyes.. “oh really?” you smiled, folding your arms. he scoffs, its a pathetic attempt at a cover up.. he then teases back, which wasn’t quite in your plan. “oh right so you like me too? that statement wasn’t just one sided huh?” you could hear the cockiness in his voice, it made you want to slap him and kiss him silly all at once.
“like you? please i can’t stand you” you lie through your teeth, you can’t help it. maybe it’s the way your head swam with panic that made you imagine it… but you almost notice him smile, and come a little closer.
“cat’s out the bag i guess..” he says it quietly, like he’s testing the waters.. it was the like the walls were closing in on you two but all of a sudden you’re standing chest to chest, and hes looking down at you all doe-eyed. “i guess.. i don’t actually really hate you…? but you better admit it too, because you’re so stubborn i know you won’t say it out of free will” 
it’s a poor confession but the way he smiled so widely at your words made your heart flutter with emotion.. “that’s a shit way of telling someone you like them lee heeseung” you tease, grasping onto the tiniest bit of leverage over him before it comes crashing down when you feel his breath on your lips.
and he gives out a soft little laugh that makes your damn stomach flip with butterflies, 
“maybe it’s not the best…”. your heart is about to give out at the stupid smile on his face.  “fuck…” he murmurs, looking at you with affection…? in his eyes…
since when did he get so close…? and since when did you like it?!
your mind goes blank, his nose is against yours, his lashes slightly grazing your cheek as he whispers, breath mingling with yours.  “fine, have it your way.. i really like you.” 
his damn lips are right next to yours, it’s almost embarrassing the way you instantly folded at his words. “i like you too” your own words come out in a rush, maybe if you said it quick enough, you won’t feel so overwhelmed.
and then he kisses you. lee heeseung kisses you.
and it’s probably something you’ll replay in your mind before you go to bed tonight, and tomorrow night, and probably forever with how your heart leaps out your chest..
“oh my god they’ve gone silent..” you can hear jake whisper shout as they all listen intently outside the closet. you can feel your face heat up at the idea of facing everyone afterwards, but for once you let yourself enjoy this, kissing him back with as much fervour as he did.  
hating on lee heeseung sure was fun, but making out with him was just a little better.
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