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soap-ify · 6 months

Text

nsfw , minors dni.

☆ : lonely is a man without love — kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader

kyle's lonely life experiences a change when he moves into a new place — ♡

. . 11.1k words.

tags and cw : neighbors to lovers, angst but LOTS of comfort, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence (briefly mentioned), hush if you see any military inaccuracies, reader is struggling and kyle too, reader is somewhat shy, mentions and descriptions of anxiety and depression, reader is afab and therefore the smut contains afab anatomy but other than that gender neutral terms have been used, smut, p in v, missionary position, fingering, cum eating, body worship i think, LOTS of kisses this man is insane about you, LOTS of consent check-ins because he is amazing, some laughing during sex, use of alcohol, kyle smokes, kissing in the rain.

notes : this is very self-indulgent and probably horribly written i am sorry . . went overboard with the word limit too i didn't think it would be long. this is for the gaz likers, eat your dinner up!

Kyle sometimes felt like he was doomed to be alone forever. So much love floated around him yet not a single bit was directed at him.

It’s a good thing. He would reassure himself. Will help me focus on my work. Though that wouldn’t explain the gnawing feeling in his heart, the loneliness that just spread within him like a virus while he would curl up in his bed, arms wrapped around himself while his fingers would caress his shoulders, pretending that it was someone else.

It wasn’t that he was bad. He was far from it. Handsome with a nice husky voice and a fairly athletic build. Not only that, he had a great personality too — loyal and determined. Still not fucking enough though, it seemed. People did like him, just not in the way his heart desired to be liked. At some points, it was as if no one ever took him seriously, making him feel like the odd one out. The leftover.

Kyle is a sweetheart — heart full of love that was aching to be given to someone, aching to be understood and embraced for once.

A few days ago, Kyle had rented a new apartment on impulse. Not that he regretted it though, it was clearly better than the current apartment he was living in — more spacious and closer to the base.

He was moving in today, cardboard boxes scattered on the floor as he stood in front of the door of his apartment, fiddling with his keys. He was about to open the door when he felt someone tap on his shoulder, causing him to abruptly turn around to face the culprit, senses on alert.

“Sorry!” A warm voice squeaked out, instantly catching Kyle’s attention. It was you, a friendly yet surprised smile adorning your lips as you angled your head to look at him. “Didn’t mean to surprise you.” You laughed sheepishly, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt as you gestured to the door beside his door. “I’m your neighbor.”

Kyle would relax a bit, her dark eyes flickering towards the door you had gestured at before landing back at you, a soft smile slowly gracing his lips. “Nah, s’fine. Don’t be sorry.” He chuckled warmly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He was used to being hyper aware all the time due to his work, so that sudden touch on his shoulder had nearly made him have a heart-attack. “...And I’m Kyle.” He added after a while.

Silence would soon take over as you two looked at one another, thinking over what to say next. “Well…” You would trail off, not wanting to disturb this new neighbor of yours any longer. Your eyes would glance down at those plump lips for him for a second before you snapped out of your thoughts, offering him a smile. “I’ll see you around then… Don’t be afraid to ask for anything at all.” You mumbled quickly, feeling like a damn bother already, turning around on your feet before jogging back into your apartment, gently shutting the door behind you.

Kyle would stare at the spot where you stood with a dazed look in his eyes, his lips parted slightly as he let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding until you went away. Fuck, that was awkward, he internally thought, yet unable to shake off this warm feeling that was spreading through his heart. Typical Kyle, always being left shocked and giddy after anyone would show interest in him. You are a weirdo, Garrick.

Now he had another mini goal in his life — to get to know you. You were his neighbor after all so it was only polite for him to at least know you, right? And with that, he resumed moving the packed boxes into his apartment, blood rushing to his cheeks.

The following weeks were very much uneventful — simple greetings exchanged whenever you passed by Kyle, little waves here and there alongside the sweet smiles you would give him that would just melt his heart. Yet still, there wasn’t any real interaction. He didn’t know anything about you, and at this point, he felt like he had read too much into the time he first met you a few weeks ago.

It wasn’t as if he himself was making any effort. He was too caught up in work, coming home late at nights, barely having any time for himself or others.

Tonight was different though. He had come early. Well, not really — it was 11:00 PM, but still earlier than usual though he was just as tired as every time. As he made his way towards the door of his apartment, he felt a familiar figure next to him. You. His head was quick to turn to the side, brown eyes instantly meeting yours as you looked at him as well, the time suddenly slowing down. There you were outside your apartment’s door, in your work clothes and a bit of disheveled appearance, highlighting just how exhausted you were after work. Just like him.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other tiredly before he managed to gather up some courage, his hand holding the door knob. “Drinks?” He asked, internally cringing at how hoarse his voice sounded due to his throat randomly going dry at the sight of you. Though you were quick to nod, causing a familiar warmth to spread in his chest.

That’s how you found yourself in Kyle’s apartment, your eyes taking in the details. It was quite warm and cozy, not overly decorated but having little things like books, certificates and pictures around that made the apartment his.

You settled down on the couch, sinking into the softness while your fingers absent-mindedly played with the sleeve of your shirt, eyes watching Kyle as he came towards you with two bottles of bourbon. “Sorry that I look like a disaster.” You mumbled quietly, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Nah. You don’t. And even if ya do, I do too. That'd mean we're matching.” He grinned and sat beside you, passing you one bottle of bourbon before opening up his own, taking a swig of it, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He would lean his head back, and you couldn’t help but look at the way the bulge in his throat moved as he gulped down the alcohol.

Kyle looked pretty. He always looked good-looking in your eyes ever since you had first met him, but right now, something made him look even better. Maybe it was the dim yellow light from the lamp on a nearby stand that fell onto his face, creating a soft glow around the face of his shape from the angle you were seated on. His eyes were closed while the bourbon relaxed his nerves, his plump lips parted slightly. You couldn’t help but admire his lashes, the mild stubble that adorned his jaw and the mustache that neatly rested above his upper lips — and that small scar on his cheek, your fingers aching to caress the rough surface. You silently took a sip from your own bourbon bottle, your eyes traveling down to his neck, the sight of skin making your insides feel weird, in a good way. You would soon find yourself in awe of his arms, the way his shirt was rolled up to rest on his elbows, and fuck, those hands. Your throat went dry as you mindlessly stared at the veins on his hand, and those long fingers of his. Get your head out of the gutter, you reminded yourself.

You weren’t usually like this. Yes, you had a fair share of people you have had a crush upon, but they were never a person that you sat with and drank a bourbon with, someone who also happened to be your neighbor. This all felt too weird, too real. It was maybe also the fact that you weren't so used to all this — this level of calmness and almost sickening domesticity. You don't even remember the last time you had let someone see you being vulnerable, open around them or anything. You were mostly alone.

Failing to rip your eyes away from Kyle, you silently continued to stare at him while drinking the bourbon until his eyes fluttered open and met yours, catching you staring at him. Shit. You went still, feeling your blood rush to your cheeks.

He went still too, his brows raising in curiosity and subtle amusement, his lips twitching a bit — as if contemplating on whether to smile or not. Why am I so awkward?, he internally scolded himself, his fingers tightening around the bottle of bourbon.

A part of him felt proud that you found him attractive. He wanted you to find him attractive. He silently took one last swig of the bourbon before putting the bottle aside, turning over to him. His cheeks felt warm, and he didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or this situation — or both. Sensing your embarrassment, he decided to let this little action of yours slide and change the topic.

“Hey, you wanna hear somethin’ funny?” He asked, his elbow gently nudging your arm. You nodded curiously, fingers tapping against the glass of the bottle.

He would shuffle a bit closer to you, your shoulders brushing against one another. It didn’t feel odd this time, or creepy even — it felt just right. The type of right where the time seemingly slows down and the room grows warmer, the type of right where everything blurs around the person your eyes are focused on — Kyle. The type of right where your breathing gets slower in contentment and tranquility, an odd sense of serenity flowing through your veins, making it impossible for you to not lean into him.

He began talking, his tone not slurred at all but seemingly more confident now, and you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was because of the alcohol or just him warming up to you. He talked about his job, how he was an operator in the Special Forces, not disclosing much more than that because apparently, that information was classified. He subtly talked about some fucked up moments that he had to face, that he found funny even, despite it being somewhat horrific actually.

“There was this one time when I had to rescue a friend of mine. I was in the heli with Nik — he’s a nice man. Anyways, some stuff happened and I slipped off the heli, but hey, I didn’t hit the ground. I was danglin’ by a fuckin' rope, and my cap'n kept tryin’ to talk to me through the earpiece. It was hell, he couldn’t believe it.” Kyle chuckled, voice a bit raspy while his eyes were focused on you, eager to see your reaction.

You would have normally been weirded out by something like that, something that just seemed so dangerous. But the way he had described it, the way he had chuckled even — it made your lips twitch into a bright smile, a soft giggle leaving your lips that soon turned into full blown laughter. “Dangling by a rope?!” You try to mutter in between your laughs, hands clutching your sides as you try to regain your composure. Your reaction made him burst into laughter too, and now you both were just a mess, tearing up. At this point, it didn’t even seem to be about Kyle’s experience anymore. It was a sweet, genuine laugh — evidence of how you had gotten so comfortable with your neighbor, how you had started to feel this odd sense of affection towards him.

Kyle was no better, his heart drumming like crazy against his chest. You are an angel, he internally thought, so enamored by the sound of your laughter. It didn’t matter what you thought of your laughter or how much you tried to keep it quiet, he absolutely loved it. He began feeling that familiar ache in his heart, the emotions that begged to be spilled out, to be directed towards someone, anyone — you. But he was going to hold it in like every time, like all the times he had to keep his emotions bottled up, knowing that they wouldn’t be reciprocated. They never were reciprocated, and it made him into this — a love-starved fool.

The laughter eventually dissolved into muffled giggles and shaky breaths, your hands loosening around your sides while your glassy eyes looked over at Kyle, who was also looking at you. Both of you were panting softly, eyes locked on one another. You could feel your heartbeat picking up its pace, your lips parted slightly while your cheeks were all warm. God, he is gorgeous, you wondered in awe, feeling an oddly fuzzy feeling clouding your brain.

You two were so close, and you could just kiss him. You wanted to. But wouldn’t he find it weird, being kissed by his neighbor? You felt skeptical, but seeing the way his eyes just didn’t seem to move away from yours, you found yourself leaning forward. And he did too. He actually leaned forward!

Closer, and a bit more, and more—

Until his phone rang. Fucking hell. Kyle audibly groaned, looking at you with a collectively embarrassed and apologetic look. You backed away, cheeks burning up while your eyes darted away shyly, nibbling on your bottom lip.

He mumbled something inaudible under his breath, getting up from the couch so he could accept the call, pressing his phone against his ear. “Yes, Cap’n? Yeah… Oh, alright... On Friday? Yeah, okay.” He whispered, soon enough ending the call before turning back to you, clearing his throat sheepishly. “Uh— Sorry. Work call.” He grumbled, brows knitting.

You shook your head, still in a bit of haze after how you almost kissed him. Or maybe you weren’t going to. Maybe you were just overthinking the whole situation, clinging onto some false hope because fuck, your neighbour was gorgeously enticing. You pushed those thoughts away quickly, not willing to fall into another delusion, just like you had with your past crushes. “S’fine, Kyle. Need to go anyway. Too late now.” You mumbled softly, looking over at the watch on your wrist that read 12:45 AM now. You hadn’t realized how much time you had spent with him already. It was as if time seemed to melt away around you, just like the way he seemed to melt your heart.

But there was no time to think about that. You had work tomorrow. It was already too late. Kyle looked over at the clock hung on the wall, a soft sigh leaving his lips before his brown eyes looked back at you. “Thanks for keepin’ me company, mate.” He spoke, internally cringing at calling you ‘mate’ though he didn’t know what else to call you. Love? Sweetie? I will freak her out, he internally thought, you think too much, Garrick.

You made your way towards the front door of his apartment, glancing at him one last time. “Goodnight, Kyle…” You whispered, a soft smile adoring your lips, senses a bit clouded due to the alcohol though you knew that your smile was sincere — full of warmth that you had shown multiple, but managed to seem different when shown to him — more genuine.

When you stepped out into the corridor, your eyes caught a glimpse of his expression, a hint of disappointment and loneliness lingering behind the warm smile he wore on his plump lips. Maybe you were imagining it, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you knew that you wanted to be there for him more and more. He was like a painting, placed in the far corner of the museum where no one would see him, but you were the visitor who had coincidentally stumbled upon the isolated area, now in awe of this painting.

It was just one of those days for you today, brows knitted in frustration as you went over the paperwork of your job, not understanding a single word written there. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep you had gotten the past few days, or the boisterous laugh of your fellow colleagues that roared in the workplace, overstimulating your senses. Or maybe it was your annoying boss, slamming loads and loads of papers on your desk and you just silently accepted them because, well, you couldn’t afford angering your boss. Or maybe it was just Kyle who had been stuck in your brain ever since that little experience you had with him a few days ago.

You didn’t have the luxury of having a pleasant lifestyle. It was monotonous more than anything — most days passed with you absolutely drowning in your work, giving you barely any time to take care of yourself. You were horribly burnt out, exhausted with the same old stuff going on. Maybe that’s why you were so drawn to Kyle in the first place. He was new, fresh like the spring breeze, his smile enough to kindle a strange warmth in your chest.

Whatever it was, you knew that you wanted to get to know him better, even though you weren’t the best at making connections — or even maintaining them. The thought made you wince, mind drifting away from the paperwork.

Your phone hadn’t pinged with a new message for a few days. You knew it, they had grown tired of you. Your friends — everyone. It was your fault, right? It was always your fault. Pushing people away, not letting them see past your mask, to see the real you that yearned to be understood, to fit in. If it weren’t for your depressive episodes, you would still have managed to maintain some relationship. But no. You just had to push them away. Now hopelessly sitting on your bed, dark circles adorning your under eyes while you gazed at your silent phone, a familiar emptiness lingering in your heart that just never seemed to go away. Your room was a mess, neither your body nor mind having any energy to get up. You needed help, you needed someone — anyone. But you didn’t want to be a burden, you didn’t—

You were snapped out of your memories at the sound of the glass shattering and some yells, your head snapping up to see that one of your colleagues had managed to break a glass, now getting yelled by the boss. Fucking great. You bitterly groaned silently, eyes looking over at the clock. Just a few more hours, you could do this.

Once the time was up, you were quick to grab your things and scurry out of the office, too exhausted to deal with anyone. 6:30 PM — you had actually managed to leave early today. You followed along your usual path, taking the crowded bus and then having a small walk along the street until you reached the small apartment complex.

About an hour passed and you had properly freshened up with a nice shower, now cladded in one of your pajamas. The fatigue still lingered in your muscles, refusing to go away. You frowned silently, eyes darting over to the balcony door. Putting on some slippers, you walked over to the balcony door and opened it, stepping into the cool, chilly evening air — the sky having mostly darkened up. You breathed in the fresh air, feeling a sense of ease clouding your senses. Though your moment of peace was interrupted by the smell of cigarettes. Wait, what?

Your head turned to the side, catching the sight of your neighbor on his balcony. Fuck, you had forgotten that your balcony was connected with Kyle’s.

Your brows rose in surprise, eyes carefully looking over at him. He looked, well, like a wreck. You felt your heart sink as you looked at him, taking in his appearance. He wore a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, the hood covering his head up, restricting you from the view of his short curly hair. His eyes looked tired, dark circles visible under his eyes, his brows knitted while his eyes were focused on the sky, gaze distant. A lit cigarette was snug in between his fingers, connecting with his lips as he exhaled some smoke. You wondered what happened, what caused him to look so… dejected. Though you resisted from asking him that directly, not wanting to pry into something you clearly didn’t belong in.

“Smoker?” Your voice cut through the silence, causing him to look over at you in surprise.

Kyle hadn’t expected to see you here. There you were, in your balcony, staring at him with concern that was masked behind nonchalance, though he could easily spot it. “Sometimes.” He replied, voice hoarse as his eyes looked away, staring back at the sky. He wanted to talk to you, had missed you so much, but this really wasn’t the best time. He didn’t mean it, but his voice sounded uncharacteristically annoyed.

You winced at his lack of reaction and the subtle show of annoyance, swallowing the strange lump in your throat as you silently stepped forward, leaning against the barrier of your balconies. “What’s wrong?” You finally decided to hit the sore spot, eyeing the change in his expression.

“Nothing.” He replied gruffly.

“Well there’s clearly something wro—”

“It’s none of your business. You don’t wanna hear it, trust me.”

“You won’t know unless you—”

“I told you, it’s nothing!”

“Stop fucking talking over me!” Your voice raised unintentionally alongside his. For a second, you just stared at him with wife eyes, panting softly as he looked back at you with an equally surprised reaction. This was such a stupid thing to argue on, and for a moment, you thought that maybe he was right. Maybe it really wasn’t any of your business. You were just his neighbor, right? Good job, ruining everything once again, you internally scolded yourself, a groan leaving your lips. If only you could control your goddamn temper.

Kyle was stunned, your voice pulling him out of his depressed haze. He huffed, brows knitting in embarrassment as he walked over to the barrier that separated the balconies, getting in front of you. “Fuck, sorry. It’s just…” He hesitated, taking another drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke aside. “I am tired, y’know. Working’ so hard every day and for what? I got no one to be proud of me. Fuck, even my own cap’n doesn’t give me the validation I want…” His voice cracked at the end, nose scrunching as he looked away, as if ashamed by his own vulnerability.

Fuck, you froze, You knew this feeling too well.

“And now look at me… Talkin’ to my neighbor about it. I am supposed to be protecting people, n-not be the fucking weak one.” He sniffled irritably, forcing out an insincere chuckle. Self deprecating thoughts, typical for Kyle. Though you were clearly unaware of it.

Kyle’s mind was a mess right now. Do better, do better, do better. Ever since he had joined the taskforce, he had this itchy feeling in his heart that urged him to prove himself. To make everyone sure that he was worthy enough to deal with the horrors of the world. But no amount of training or missions gave him the satisfaction he desired. There was always someone better than him. Who even was he anymore? He had molded himself so much for others, and now he couldn’t recognise himself.

You had noticed how Kyle had suddenly gone quiet, the connected balconies now surrounded by a thick layer of silence, sparking a familiar sense of anxiety in you. You wanted to say something to him, something you longed to listen to when you were struggling a few years ago. But what could you even say without properly knowing his situation? You knew nothing about what actually even goes on in his job despite the little things he had told you that wouldn’t really be considered classified.

So you simply reached your hand forward, grabbing his free one. You felt him stiffen up for a split second before relaxing again, his eyes moving back to you. You took this time to silently admire his hands, your fingers lacing with his as your thumb rubbed gently circles on his skin. His hand was so fucking pretty, the type you’d want after a manicure. His nails were nicely cut, and his skin was clean and only mildly callused. You were surprised that his hands weren’t so madly roughened up in the way you would normally expect a soldier to have.

“I have a hand care routine.” Kyle blurted out sheepishly, probably having sensed your fascination. You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, causing his eyes to soften up. Your laugh. It reminded him of how you gave him company alongside drinking some bourbon a few nights ago. It was his favorite night in his damn life already.

“I don’t know what's going on in your head, Kyle. But…” You trailed off, giving his hands a gentle squeeze while your eyes darted away in an almost shy manner. “You can always rely on me. I swear.”

Kyle could have sworn that he heard his heart explode in his chest.

There was no way you weren't an angel. The familiar painful warmth made its appearance into his heart and this time, he didn’t push it away. He was smitten. You, sweet you. His lovely name. Not emphasis on his yet, because well— yeah.

Kyle had started feeling hopeful all over again, blood rushing to his cheeks and lips parting breathlessly. He didn’t know what exactly he was feeling towards you. Maybe a silly crush like many others wherein his feelings were never reciprocated. But he instantly pushed that thought away. He knew that you were different. Unlike others who had made him into this anxious, perfectionist mess — you didn’t put any burdens on him, simply made him feel safe and seen. Safe. He had never felt safe with any person before, maybe with his task force but that was really different from what he felt right now. He didn’t feel unlovable for once, despite the self-loathing thoughts scratching on the back of his mind, making him struggle to think straight.

He simply wanted to fall in your arms and cry. Cry about how it was just too much for him now, the sheer immorality of his work that he had promised himself that he would face. Cry about how no one ever wanted him, how he was always left out. Cry about being the second option. Cry about feeling like a fucking outsider. Cry about never being perfect. Cry about everything.

He would have actually made his way into your arms if it wasn’t for the little barrier in between your balcony and his. And the barrier between you both — the invisible one. You were still just a neighbor, and maybe a friend. He didn’t want to overthink this, to give himself hope like every time.

Once his cigarette had run out, he sighed softly and kept it tucked in between his fingers, his lips forming a soft smile — the one that you were so familiar with. “You’re a special one, lovie.” He said, before pausing, lips twitching a bit. Going all out now with the nicknames.

Your eyes lightened up under the faint, dim light of the balcony, lips forming a sweetly goofy smile. Lovie. That just sounded so… Kyle. You liked it, this new little change in your relationship. You never let go of his hand, your body pressing up against the barrier of the balconies. “C’mon. Wanna hang out again? My apartment this time.” You offered, gently nudging him.

And oh boy, he was embarrassingly quick to agree.

You had put down fluffy pillows in front of the couch, Kyle seated on them alongside you with your backs pressed against the couch. You had bought a bowl of popcorns, which was now settled in between the little distance you two had. The light from your TV illuminated your face, and he couldn’t help but silently stare at you.

“I’m going to put on a rom-com.” You mumbled softly, hands fiddling with the remote of the TV as you scrolled through the lists of movies, until random on a recently added rom-com movie you don't recall ever watching.

Kyle’s eyes drifted over to the TV screen and then back to you, a cheeky grin soon adorning his lips. ”I feel like this is a trap.” He chuckled under his breath, playfully nudging you with his elbow.

“Oh yeah? Why would it be?” You couldn’t help but giggle, eyes squinting.

“Well, I dunno! Didn’t know that lovie here was into rom-coms.”

“You don’t know much about me then, Kyle.”

The banter between you both went on for a few seconds until the opening credit song of the movie started playing, causing you to immediately hush him, focusing fully onto the movie. Kyle went quiet, pulling the hood of his head, finally. Those short curls of his were visible once again.

He was definitely more relaxed than before. He had even sprayed himself with your perfume so the smell of cigarettes goes away. His mind felt a bit clearer too, albeit a weird dull ache still present in his heart. The usual emptiness, the ache for you. He ignored those feelings for now though, trying to properly focus on the movie.

Easier said than done. You were so close to him, warmth basically radiating off you while your eyes were fixed onto the screen, mouth silently chewing onto the popcorns. He sneakily shuffled a bit closer, his shoulder gently brushing with yours. You didn’t flinch away at all, making his heart warm up even more.

He wanted, no, needed to hold you. His arms were aching to embrace you, and as much as the rational part of his mind would have normally stopped him, this time it didn’t. He gently leaned his head a bit close, lips a few inches away from your ears. “Can I hold you…?” He asked, voice soft and a bit raspy.

Your breath hitched at the sudden proximity, your head tilting to the side to face him, only for your noses to almost be pressed together. Warmth bloomed in your chest and you couldn’t help but nod, lips forming a sweet smile. “Yes…” You whispered. You wouldn’t have let anyone else hold you. You trusted him.

Kyle was overjoyed, but he managed to hide it well. His arms, firm with muscles, slowly around you and scooped you towards him until your back was nicely snuggled into his chest, seated between his legs. You could almost feel his heartbeat against your back — rapid and loud with soft thumps. you found yourself relaxing in his arms, leaning more into him as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

You picked the bowl of popcorns and gently placed it back on your lap, resuming to eat it. Kyle took this time to place his chin on the top of your head, happy that you couldn’t see the absolutely goofy grin that adorned his lips, his heart practically jumping up and down in his chest. He had never felt so connected with someone, your warmth seeping into the sheer loneliness that engulfed his heart. He wasn’t alone.

“Crappy guy.” He commented on the love interest of the female lead, some tall and cold man — very much typical in romance movies. You hummed in agreement, your hand grazing him as he put his hand alongside yours into the bowl, picking up some popcorn.

The movie wasn’t even good at this point. Mostly because all of your mind was solely focused on how nice and warm he felt behind you, making you feel so relaxed. You could basically fall asleep on him if you wanted to, but you restrained yourself mentally, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. What even were the boundaries now?

You closed your eyes momentarily, curling up against him after you put the popcorn bowl aside, your cheek pressed against his neck. “Bored?” He asked quietly, his hand rubbing up and down your arm in a gentle manner, earning a silent nod from you. He sighed softly and nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

“About earlier…” You trailed off, brows knitting in confusion. What were you doing? It was as if you wanted to comfort him as much as you could, your heart speaking instead of your mind. It was like an itch, one that wouldn’t go away unless you talked to him. You shifted in his arms so you could face him, comfortable in between his legs, not caring about the movie anymore. “I…” You sheepishly cleared your throat, hands hesitantly twitching before grasping onto his shoulders. “I… I was struggling real bad a few years ago. Still am, but… Just wanted to tell you that you aren’t alone…” You nervously looked away, chewing on your bottom lip.

You had never opened up to anyone before. It was basically written all over your face.

Kyle’s brows furrowed momentarily, going quiet after your words. It explained a lot actually, the subtle dark circles under your eyes and the absent-minded fidgeting you always did. Though it wasn’t really noticeable, he noticed. Perks of having a job that required high attention.

“Lovie… You don’t gotta say anythin’ you don’t wanna.” He spoke after a while, his arms tightening around you as he pulled you in just a bit more closer, the tip of his nose almost touching yours. “But thank you… Really. And I am also here for you, always” His voice softened up even more at the end, so quiet and warm.

You scoffed softly, but nodded, your hands shyly caressing up his shoulders, fingers trailing up his neck, face before eventually reaching his scalp. Your fingers soothingly ran through his short, nicely cut hair, a soft sigh escaping your lips. You had been waiting for this. And the way Kyle’s eyes closed relaxed encouraged you even more to gently scratch his scalp.

Kyle leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttered shut and lips parted slightly, relishing your touch. It was achingly comforting, and he could feel the noises in his head becoming inaudible, his heart rate relaxing and his nerves calming down.

You, you, you, you.

That’s what rang in his head, blood rushing to his cheeks and ears as he felt himself get all giddy over his neighbor — sweet neighbor.

The movie was long forgotten in the background, the only trace of it being the muffled sounds and the light from the screen that fell onto you both. Kyle slowly opened his eyes again, his hands reaching up to gently cup your face, fingertips pressing against the back of your ears. His eyes looked all over your face, from the fond look in your eyes to your lips. Lips he wanted to kiss so bad.

“Can I kiss you?”

His own words surprised him, but he didn’t back away. Not now, not ever. He gently pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing syncing with yours as he felt your hands slide down to gently hold onto his shoulders again, your lips forming an adorable smile.

“Yes… Okay.”

He slowly closed the distance between you both, pressing his lips against yours. His lips felt soft, moving with your lips delicatel — a chaste kiss. The kiss didn’t seem inexperienced by any means. He knew what he was doing, holding your face so tenderly in his hands as if you were the most precious thing ever, breath hitching subtly as he parted from the kiss, looking at you with half-open eyes. Holy shit, he actually kissed you. If he were to die this very moment, he would die a happy man.

“Am I going too fast, lovie…?” He asked, his hands slowly easing their way down to your waist, helping you up to sit on his lips before he wrapped his arms around your waist one again, a blissful smile on his lips.

You shook your head lazily, arms wrapping around his neck as you comfortably sat on his lap, blood rushing to your cheeks while your heart thumped fast in your chest. You actually kissed him. “I liked it… You can do more, Kyle.”

God, you were perfect, he thought to himself, brain buzzing with glee while his hands gently caressed your lower back, fingers applying some pressure to your hip bone, earning a relaxed sigh from you. “I told ya I felt like this was going to a trap.” He chuckled in amusement under his breath before pressing his lips against yours once more.

Your mind felt fuzzy as you responded back to his kiss, soft smooching sounds lingering in the air. It felt nice. Too nice. Your brain wanted to somehow disconnect from the feeling of the kiss. Memories of you isolating yourself from everyone made their way into your mind once again like a fly that never went away, scratching at your head. Fuck. What if you pushed him away too? This felt impossibly good, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.

Still, you didn’t pull away from the kiss. You couldn’t. You still wanted this.

You felt his tongue gently caressing your bottom lip, poking it as if requesting entrance. You could almost feel him unable to hold in his grin in the middle of the kiss when you complied, gently parting your lips. He coaxed you closer and closer, the tip of his tongue gently caressing yours. A muffled whimper left your lips as you tightened your fingers around his shoulders, brows furrowing as you tried to keep your mind clear. This time, you properly felt his light stubble and mustache graze against your soft skin, heightening up your senses.

Once the kiss ended, Kyle pressed some more quick pecks on your cheek before burying his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. You were breathless, clinging onto him tight, not wanting this moment to end at all as you leaned into him, fingernails gently scratching against his nape. “Bloody gorgeous you are…” He croaked out against your neck, gently pressing soft kisses on your skin.

Warmth pooled in your stomach, your hips twitching unconsciously. He was so sickeningly sweet —you felt your heart growing more and more fond of him. Your body shuddered once he began lightly nipping on your skin with his teeth, testing the water and bloody hell, it was working. You didn’t even know you were sensitive in that area until now. “K-Kyle…” His name left your lips in the form of a shaky giggle, a bashful smile playing on your lips as you gently tugged on his hair with his fingers, earning a groan from him.

“Fucking hell, lovie…” He huffed, playfully yet lightly biting on your neck, eliciting a surprised squeak from you.

“Kyle!”

“Hush.” He peppered sweet licks on the place he had given you a bite. He pulled his head back slightly, eyes meeting yours once again.

He could feel the subtle tension in your muscles, the mild hesitation that seemed too familiar to him. Maybe you were scared of this softness just as much as he craved it. It wasn’t a bad kind of scared though, he knew that much.

“I have really bad luck with… all this.” He blurted out after a few seconds of silence, brown eyes fixed on yours, filled with vulnerability that he wasn’t reluctant on showing you anymore. He trusted you anyways. “I dunno, lovie. I have been goin’ on with my life thinking that I was just… not lovable at all. Got sick of being so alone all the time, of being left out a-and—” His voice cracked, his lips quickly pursing shut with a subtle hint of embarrassment. Not now, Garrick.

He cleared his throat, licking his bottom lip that suddenly felt dry. “You are the only one who makes me forget about the emptiness in my heart. I mean it. You are the only one who doesn’t make me feel like a fool, lovie… Ever since I met you, ever since we drank a few nights ago, every greeting of yours every morning— Fuck, makes me so warm.”

This was the real Kyle in front of you. You could finally see him beneath the flesh and bones. His words made your heart ache. Him? Unlovable? He was surrounded by the wrong people then because nothing in him could ever make him unlovable.

“It’s okay. I am also… not very good at all this.” You mumbled, unable to suppress a soft giggle from escaping your lips. Idiots, you both were. “And… don’t think that you are unlovable.”

Kyle nodded and pressed one more quick kiss on your lips, his heart hammering against his chest fast at your words, his hands fiddled with the hem of your pajama shirt, his fingers aching to lift it up. “Can I…?” He asked, his eyes focused on you so intently, as if trying to memorize your very soul.

With a nod from you, he gently eased your shirt off you, sliding it up your head before putting it on the couch behind you. His breath hitched once his eyes landed on your bare torso, lips parted in awe. Pretty. Prettiest.

You looked away in embarrassment, realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra. You didn’t know that someone would be there in the balcony when you had gone out for fresh air — that someone being Kyle. You wanted to say something, but your thoughts were cut off when you felt both of his hands gently caressing your breasts, sizing them up while his fingers dug in your soft flesh, causing your breath to hitch and body to tense up.

“Relax, lovie… Tell me if you don’t want it.” He pressed a kiss on your cheek, smiling warmly at you. Kisses, kisses, kisses — he had given you so many kisses already, made you feel so special. And now this. All the earlier stress from work today, all the bad memories just seemed to wash away as his hands lovingly fondled your breasts.

You took a few deep breaths, feeling your muscles relax. “Okay… Okay.” You nodded, nibbling on your bottom lip as your eyes watched him, his thumbs gently brushing against your nipples that had begun to harden up under the sweet attention that he was giving to your chest. A little squeak left your lips when his thumb pressed against your right nipple gently, your sensitivity causing you to accidentally buck your hips forward.

“Woah there…” He chuckled teasingly, pulling his hands away from your chest before he held onto your hips gently, keeping them still. You grumbled at how he was getting amused at every embarrassing thing your body was doing.

Kyle was truly taking pleasure at the little twitches in your body, and as much as he wanted to take you right this very second, he wanted to be patient, to gently coax you into fully relaxing. Only then was he going to fuck you. He gently lowered his head, ignoring the way his back was leaning forward in a somewhat awkward manner, his lips gently brushing against your right nipple.

“Can I?” He whispered, looking up at you from this angle, watching the way your brows were furrowed and lips were slightly parted, your head nodding too quickly. He slowly latched his mouth to your nipple, his tongue caressing the soft bud with care. You moaned softly, your fingers going to his head once again, clinging onto his hair.

He took his time sucking on both of your nipples, hands never leaving your hips. Each swirl of his tongue around on your sensitive skin caused you to shiver, chest rising and falling with each breath you took. Once your nipples were all wet and swollen, he began peppering gentle kisses on the softness of your breasts before eventually pulling his head back, licking his bottom lip in delight.

“You have no idea what you're doin’ to me, lovie…”

He slowly eased you off his lap before laying you down on the ground, making sure that the fluffy pillows you both were seated on earlier were now resting underneath you. Once he got on top of you, kneeling in between your legs, he slowly began to press soft kisses on your belly, his hands holding onto your hands. He smiled against your skin once he felt your fingers lacing with his, his lips trailing a line of kiss down to your belly button before resting on top of them hem of your pajama trousers.

“Can I, lovie?” He groaned softly while pressing kisses on your waist line, wanting to make sure that you wanted this as much as he did. He was kissing on a particular ticklish spot of yours, causing you to squirm and laugh shyly.

“Fuck— yes. Yes, Kyle…” You whimpered out in between your soft giggles, your fingers slowly leaving him once he pulled his hands back. He slowly tugged your pajamas down, sliding them off your ankles and socks-cladded feet. His eyes fell onto the pair of panties you wore, a wet patch visible on them. His heart bloomed with fondness at how adorable you looked like this, all flushed and squirmy, visibly needy.

His thumb brushed over the wet spot, gently outlining your folds from the fabric of your dampening panties. Your hips twitched, your hands desperately holding onto your breasts since they didn’t know what else to hold onto. His other hand gently fondled your thighs before reaching to slide your panties down, tossing them aside.

“Holy fuck…” He breathed out in awe once his eyes fell onto your glistening cunt. It was so fucking gorgeous, his lips trembling a bit. Fuck, how did he get so lucky? He looked at you to make sure you were okay, noticing how you looked so fuzzy with pleasure, an excited smile adorning your lips.

“Kiss…” You whined out softly, hands reaching forward, aching to hold his face. He chuckled under his breath and nodded, gently leaning down to press his lips against yours while your hands cupped his face, his tongue finding yours. While he kissed you passionately, his fingers reached down to gently caress your wet folds, sliding his fingers up and down your cunt. Your whimpers were sucked in by his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as your hands held onto his face dearly, your hips bucking forward to somehow get more contact with his hand.

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, his other hand going in between your legs too. His thumb cautiously brushed over your clit, feeling it pulsate and twitch underneath. God, just how needy were you? It was adorable, causing him to smile affectionately, his thumb beginning to rub your clit in circular motions. A breathy moan left your lips, your hand coming to cover your mouth because what if your noises are just so damn annoying to him? But the glare he shot you after that made you uncover your mouth once again. “No need to hold in your noises.” He grumbled softly.

You nodded sheepishly, your body struggling to stay still as his thumb continued to rub your sensitive clit, his finger gently coming to circle your entrance, feeling how warm it was. “Can I push my fingers in?” He asked softly, leaning down to press a peck on your forehead. You nodded, taking a few deep breaths to relax your muscles.

He started with one finger, gently sliding it into your tight entrance with surprising ease, probably due to how wet you were. Your walls tightened around his fingers as he gently began to rub it inside you, his thumb continuing to mindlessly fondle with your clit.

“Mmh… Kyle…” You let out a soft moan, eyes glossy due to how good it felt, your nerves feeling tingly — in a good way.

“Want more?”

“Yes—!”

Kyle slowly eased in another finger inside you, and soon one more. He couldn’t help it, you were being so good for him. He gently began thrusting his three fingers in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you nicely, his thumb never stopping from giving your needy clit some attention.

Your eyes rolled back, lips parted as your hips gently bucked back and forth in sync with his fingers. His fingers were rubbing against the sweet spongy spots inside you, causing your face to contort in pleasure. Even your own fingers couldn’t make you feel so good.

It wasn’t long until you felt your walls tightening up around his fingers, breathing getting shaky as your mind became blurry. “S-So close…! P-Please— Need it, need it.” You mindlessly babbled, almost sobbing out once the wave of pleasure hit you hard, warmth bursting in your stomach as your climax hit you hard, your body squirming. Kyle’s eyes were wide with adoration, his fingers slowly down but never stopping, letting you ride your orgasm out while his eyes looked down at the sweet, sticky white cum on the base of his fingers — your cum.

“Fuck… You are so good f’me, lovie.” He eased his fingers out of your pretty cunt, leaning down to gently kiss your chin, your teary eyes fluttering open to look at him. He smiled at you before gently putting his wet fingers in his mouth, lips nicely closing around his fingers as his tongue licked your cum off them. Your eyes widened in a mixture of surprise, arousal and embarrassment. He was actually licking your cum.

He savored the bittersweet taste before pulling his fingers out of his mouth, grinning cheekily at you. “Tastiest thing I ever tasted.” He commented, earning a gentle swat on his arm from you.

“Cheeky bastard…”

“You know I am.” He cooed before slowly sliding his hoodie off his head, revealing his nicely muscular torso.

You gawked at him, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as your eyes roamed over his upper half, looking at his smooth skin that was adorned with some little scars here and there, a bigger one staring from his waist and probably leading to his back. He's pretty.

He noticed your reaction, the cheeky grin never leaving his lips. He knew that he was good looking enough, and the fact that you find him attractive as well somewhat boosted his confidence even more — in a very good way.

Your hands gently reached up, caressing along the small scars on his shoulders before moving to rest against his muscular chest. “You look nice…” You finally managed to gather some courage to compliment him, all the anxiety just melting from your body. Your thighs were still trembling, the wetness continuing to pool in between your legs. Your eyes looked down, catching a glimpse of light happy trail leading down to his sweatpants and them— Holy fuck. You felt your mouth water once your eyes landed on his sweatpants, a visible erection visible there that you seemingly hadn’t noticed before. Your mind blanked out for a few seconds before you quickly looked back at his face, catching him staring at you with a knowing gaze.

“Do you want me, lovie? Want me in you?” He asked, tone a bit firm yet gentle at the same time — highlighting how he truly cared about you. He didn’t want to fuck you if you didn’t want it. You nibbled on your bottom lip for a few seconds, staring at him with a hazy gaze as you thought over his question.

Did you want him? Oh fuck. So much.

“Yes… But I-I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” You responded in a meek voice, causing his eyes to soften up.

“Trust me. Gonna take ya out on lots of dates after this, I promise.” He whispered, words full of sincerity. With one final kiss on your lips, he slowly tugged his sweatpants down alongside his briefs, not bothering to keep them. He tossed them aside before gently resting back in between your legs.

His cock was so hard, precum already sliding down his length. He was nicely sized with a big length and an even better girth. It would probably destroy you if you weren’t so wet right now.

He paused for a while, brows furrowing as he looked around. “Don’t have a condom, fuck.”

“I’m on pills.” You reassured him. It was true that you were on pills, despite having barely anyone to hook up with. Maybe you were just waiting for someone, someone like him — someone that reminded you of the sunset with how warm they were, somehow who eased the storm inside your head. He was just so perfect in every way, and he didn’t even know it. Fucking evil.

Kyle nodded, gently spreading your legs apart with his hands, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh of your thighs, massaging your muscles. “Gonna fuck you so nicely, lovie. I promise I will.” He said, words dripping with genuine warmth. He slowly pressed the tip of his cock in front of your swollen clit, nudging it — like a kiss. He began rubbing your clit with the tip of his cock, his hand gripping the shaft to keep his throbbing erection still. You let out a breathy sigh, melting into the pillows beneath you while he continued to tease you.

“Kyle, please…” You groaned shyly, voice laced with mild frustration and overwhelming need. You needed him in you, to feel his skin against yours so you could assure him of how lovely and special he truly is — a fucking gem in the rough battleground he had to face so much.

Kyle nodded, eyes glinting at amusement at your pleas as his hands moved up to gently hold onto your waist, aligning his cock in front of your entrance. “Ready?”

With one final nod from you, he gently began pushing the tip of his cock in your tightness, a blissful groan leaving his lips as he wetness engulfed him slowly. He made sure to look at your face for any signs of discomfort from the stretch, because fuck it was a lot. He found none and that was the green light for him to slowly push his cock in, inch by inch, until it was nice and snug in your tight cunt, some of his public hair tickling your skin.

“You okay?” He asked, one hand reaching up to gently brush some of your hair off your forehead which was a bit wet from sweat now, placing a kiss in between your brows while you nodded.

“Mmph—… So good…” You slurred out, feeling so full with his cock all stuffed in you. Your hands made their way to rest on his back as he leaned down on you, your fingers rubbing gently on his nape. “L-Like you a lot, Kyle. Don’t want you to think that you are not loveable… O-Or that you are a fool. You are so perfect in my eyes…” You fumbled on your words in the midst of the pleasurable haze, though your words were as genuine as they could — your heart speaking to him.

Kyle’s heart skipped a beat at your words, his brown eyes softening up. Fuck, you’re just so sweet, filling his empty heart. He smiled to himself and nodded, pressing soft kisses on the tip of your nose, causing you to let out a heartful giggle. He chuckled alongside you, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately before he slowly began to thrust his cock in and out of your tightness, his right hand clasping onto your waist again while his other hand moved in between your legs, thumb resuming to gently play with your sensitive clit.

His thrusts were gentle and paced nicely, not too agonizingly slow and not too fast. This was all to give you pleasure, to show how you had made your way into his heart so easily. He rested his head in the crook of your neck while your fingers gently dug into his back, not too hard to leave any marks. Breathy, blissful moans left your lips while a smile adorned your lips — just refusing to go away.

You could hear his soft groans echoing in your ears, his lips peppering kisses on your earlobe and down your jaw. Your skins were pressed together, making everything so humid as he kept a steady pace, the tip of his cock gently slamming against your cervix, causing your toes to curl up. His girth rubbed against your spongy sweet spots just perfectly, making you literally swoon while your eyes struggled to keep open, mind fogged with this feeling that was making you melt into mush.

“So tight— lovie. So perfect and warm f’me…” He breathed out, thumb sliding up and down your sweet clit as he hips moved alongside yours, skin gently slapping with one another. His musk mixed with yours, alongside the perfume that he had worn earlier, making his head spin.

You couldn’t stop a tear from escaping your eyes, your sniffle catching Kyle’s attention as he pulled his head back from your neck to look at you, your eyes all teary. “Feels too good?” He asked, kissing the tear away as you nodded, whimpering softly as your lips quivered.

“Never felt so good before…”

“Me too.”

A familiar pressure began building up in your lower abdomen once again as he continued playing with your bundle of nerves, cock continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, balls smacking against your skin. “Close…” You mewled out, the pressure feeling stronger than before as your fingernails dug into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him as close as you could, your movement causing the swollen tip of his cock to hit your cervix once again, causing your mind to go all white as your orgasm hit you once again, your body convulsing in pleasure as you cried out meekly, his cock coaxing you to ride your pleasure out while your folds fluttered around him. a white creamy ring made its way on his shaft, which was your doing. Your brain felt so foggy, body lightheaded and relaxed as he pressed soft kisses on your cheeks.

“Good God… Such a perfect thing ya are, cummin’ on my cock. Can I cum in you, lovie?” He grunted, his own orgasm approaching as his thrusts got a bit sloppy from the wet mess you created, his cock throbbing inside your tight walls. You nodded breathlessly and his balls tightened almost immediately, his orgasm hitting him in waves as thick ropes of cum spurted out of his cock, painting your insides white.

He didn’t pull his cock out once his thrusts slowed down before coming to a stop, his hands sliding up to cup your face lovingly, looking at how pretty you looked after being fucked, letting himself relish the way you were wrapped around his cock. An adorable mess actually.

“Kyle…” You shyly smiled at him, eyes half open while your hands moved to hold onto his shoulders, your body feeling so damn sensitive.

After a few more minutes of just basking in your warmth, Kyle slowly pulled his cock out of you, some drops of thick cum sliding down your cunt. It made him want to fuck you again, but he didn’t want to tire you any more than you already were.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…” He slowly got up on his feet and searched for your bathroom in the apartment, coming back after a few minutes with a pair of wet towels. He began cleaning your body, which was still trembling in pleasure — the towel gently gliding against the skin and in between your legs, cautiously cleaning your inner thighs.

“Pillows got dirty.” He cheekily mumbled, causing you to pout and look at him lazily.

“You will clean it… S’your fault.”

“Fine.”

After he was done cleaning you up, he gently eased you up on your feet, leading you into your bedroom, his hands carrying both of your clothes and putting them to the side, tossing the towel in the laundry — already memorizing each corner of your apartment.

He went to the bathroom momentarily to quickly clean himself up before he came back, guiding you to gently lay on your bed, your hand grabbing his wrist. “Stay with me…” You tiredly giggled, mustering up as much strength as you had to pull him on the bed too.

Kyle’s heart almost exploded in his chest at your words, his breath hitching as he looked at you in awe before nodding. Not bothering to wear any clothes, you both slid into the covers, his arms wrapping around you while your head neatly tucked into your neck, one leg hooking around his waist. “Sleep well, lovie… Gonna be here with ya when ya wake up.” He promised, placing a soft kiss on the side of your head as he felt your breathing calming down, your body and mind soon entering a state of peaceful slumber — probably the best sleep you had in months.

You never put a label on your relationship with Gaz. It was definitely not casual — something more for sure, especially with the blossoming feelings in your heart that could be described as nothing but romantic. Love, even. You didn't know what properly being in love felt like, maybe whatever this was that you felt towards him. He had taken you out for a date to an amusement park before he had to go for his deployment. A date. It meant something to both of you, right?

“Only three weeks, lovie. Promise I’ll be back soon.” He said softly while standing in front of your front door as he prepared to leave, reassuring you even though he had spent the whole last weeks cuddling you and trying to tell you that it will be quick. Your eyes were all teary, mind overwhelmed with anxiety because you had no idea how the whole thing even works. You just prayed that he would come back safe.

You nodded at him, handing him a box of cookies you had baked for him after hours of watching tutorials. “For you…” You sheepishly mumbled, wiping the tears that had formed in your eyes.

Kyle gratefully accepted the box before pulling you in a tight hug, smothering your face up with kisses. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Fuck three weeks. It had been five. You had stopped receiving messages from him after the two week mark, and all you felt was nauseous from how anxious you felt, hearing the loud beating of blood in your ears while your stomach uncomfortably twisted.

It wasn't until this morning that Kyle had finally texted you with a “Coming today.” — so painfully dry in comparison to his other messages but you could only rationally conclude that something must have happened in the mission. You were frustrated, yes, but that was just a result of being so overwhelmed for the past five weeks.

It was raining heavily today, the sounds of the rain sliding against the glass of your window alongside the muffled thunder somewhat soothing your nerves.

Though for Kyle, the rain was a mess. His flight had just landed an hour or two ago, and now he was at the base. The traffic was fucking jammed around the area, and his teammates couldn’t give him a ride home too because one of the SUVs had to go for repairing. Just his bloody luck. He didn’t want to keep you waiting anymore, he couldn’t. Not after everything he had gone through in this mission.

Blood was dripping down Kyle’s forehead as he struggled to maintain his vision, hiding behind a wall while gunshots roared behind him. The enemies had outnumbered them badly, and he had to hide here until more of the team arrived.

He didn’t want to die. God, not here, not now. Not after just figuring out so much about himself, not after just meeting you. Oh, you. You were there, waiting in your apartment. And fuck, he was so late. He had said three weeks, but it had been four starting today.

Wasn’t his fault though, even though it felt like one. They had gained new intel on the enemy last minute after what felt like a failed mission, and they knew that they couldn’t leave it.

God, he was terrified. It wasn’t often that he felt true fear. But he felt it now, only because he didn’t want to leave you alone, not at least without telling you how he felt about you. To expressing his undying feelings for you, to—

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud thunderclap, a groan leaving his lips. Slowly but surely, he made up his mind. He was going to run over to the apartment complex. It wasn’t that far away from here and he had enough stamina, plus he didn’t give a fuck about the heavy rain.

With his duffel bag in his hand, he sprinted out of the base, legs carrying him towards the streets. His blue cap was soaking, barely covering his face or providing him some sort of cover as he ran and ran through the slipper pavement, ignoring the ache in his head that was a result from the wound he gad gotten, although not fatal but still painful, a bandage now place on the sidre of his forehead.

Eventually reaching the apartment complex you both lived in, he breathed heavily, standing outside the building, not caring about being all wet. Still, hopefully nothing inside the duffel bag was ruined. He sent you a quick text, asking you to meet him outside.

You had rushed out of the apartment building as soon as you got his text, heart beating fast due to the sudden rush of adrenaline, a jacket hastily put on you while you held an umbrella. Your eyes looked around the foggy street before you spotted him, a big smile coming on your lips.

“Kyle!” You gasped in pure excitement, carefully making your way over to him. Though as soon as he saw you, he dropped his duffel back and rushed over to you, his arms pulling you in fast and tight, causing the umbrella to drop from your hand and fall onto the ground.

“Lovie! G-God, fuck… So sorry for leaving you… So sorry—” His voice cracked as he fumbled out every explanation he could form, his mind already overwhelmed at the sight of you. God, he missed you so much. His arms were wrapped around you tight, facing burying into the crook of your neck, feeling the familiar scent cloud his senses and calm him down.

“Kyle… It’s okay. Hey, s’okay…” You mumbled softly, still a bit confused though he could explain it all later. Right now, all that mattered was him. “We are gettin’ wet, we should— Wait, is that a bandage? Are you ok—”

But before you could finish your sentence, his mouth had already found its way to yours, kissing you gently. Your eyes immediately fluttered shut, your hand reaching up to gently take his cap off his head and hold it as you kissed him back, both of your arms wrapping around his neck while his hands held your waist.

The rain fell on both of you, your clothes clinging to your skin while a cool breeze brushed past you both. But he was already lost in the taste of your lips, and the feel of you in his arms. For the first time, Kyle felt like he was worth something, like he was not alone anymore. That he's loved.

He gently parted from the kiss, whispering gently into your ear, words that made your heart swell up in affection that you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

“I love you, lovie.”

And God, you loved him too. More than anything.

350 notes · View notes

mcdonaldsnumberone · 1 year

Text

LOVE ME HARDER!

you swear your favorite color has nothing to do with kaiser. but unluckily for you, the boy’s fallen madly in love with you and has somehow convinced himself that he can connect the dots to make you fall madly in love with him. when you meet his flirting with a tough front though, kaiser has a secret weapon up his sleeve (or under his uniform collar).

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): reader’s favorite color is blue, kaiser’s tattoo isn’t super visible with his uniform in this fic

You loved blue.

You still do. And for the foreseeable future, you weren’t going to ever stop loving the color. It was a color so dear and special to you, and as much as you loved all the other colors, there was something indescribable about the blue hue.

It was everywhere. The color of the sky. The ocean. The small Google Docs icon while you scribbled down notes on your computer. A stray car in the distance while you crossed the road. It was the color of loyalty and knowledge, the cool tones even embodying the mystifying feeling of melancholy. And, if you allowed yourself to get a little pretentious and philosophical, probably the color of the universe.

What a dignified color. You would never stop loving blue. Not ever. Certainly not now. And you would never extinguish your love of the color because of a man.

But boy, was someone making it difficult.

You always heard him before you saw him: the rumble of footsteps, Ness gushing incoherent praise, the shrill trill of German words hanging in the air. Like an overture before a grand opera, except those thirty seconds were the only prep time you’d get to turn on your heel and book it out of there if you didn’t want to say hello to your biggest headache.

“Oh, daaaarling! There you are! Hey- Don’t run away!”

An outstretched pair of arms materialized on either side of your body, and you let out a loud yelp before you were pulled backwards into a tight hug. You screeched like a feral cat, clawing helplessly at the air while a loud haughty laugh rang out against your eardrums.

It was only when you turned around that the sense of hearing gave out to the sense of sight. Beautiful strands of blond-blue hair swept across your eyes, the twinkle of his golden locks not too unlike the catlike gleam in his pupils. Speaking of his eyes, you hated the stupid bastard for how much blue he had on him and more importantly, how good it looked. Even the smug azure of his crinkled eyes made you stop breathing for just a split second, and your lips parted unconsciously as your hatred momentarily dissipated into wonder at the delicate hue.

“Staring at me? Awwwww, do you think I’m handsome? Of course you do. You wouldn't be so starstruck otherwise,” he chuckled. You instantly snapped out of your stupor, and you twisted your face into a disgusted frown.

“Take your hands off of me, you idiot,” you snarled. “I’m not in the mood to talk to you.”

“Oh? Perfect. I think that’s perfect timing to talk to you.” Kaiser kept one arm slung firmly over your shoulders, expertly placing himself at your side. You dug your heels into the ground and kept your place whenever he tried to edge you closer to his torso, egging you to relax into his touch. “Busy being a little color nerd again? I think it’s adorable that you’d pick your favorite color after me-”

“-I did not pick my favorite color after you,” you huffed. You crossed your arms, and you glared directly up at him (this time, you took extra care not to get lost in his eyes). “Do you really think I don’t have a personality or something? To pick a favorite color after a man?”

He shrugged. “Hey, I’m a pretty charming guy, if I do say so myself. Just now, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me. I’d say I wear the color well. Say, if I swapped my red eyeliner out for a blue one, would that make you stare at me even more?”

You wanted to push him off, but you knew better than to engage a professional athlete in a half-wrestle-half-run-for-your-life-thing. “In your dreams. You’re an atrocious mix of colors.”

“Sure.” He easily brushed your words off. He broke out into his usual smug grin, chuckling at you as if he were a cat toying with a mouse. If he could, you swore that he’d gobble you up in one bite and leave no crumbs. “But I’d say blue is totally my color.”

Red hot annoyance flooded your body. This was so unlike you, to be moved to such anger that you’d be thinking of any color other than your favorite cyan hue, but something about this man made you want to beat him to a bloody pulp until he truly was nothing more than a mix of crimson and black and white broken bones.

“Blue is MY color!” You grumbled. “I liked it even before I met you! Hell, I probably understand it better than you do! Dipping your hair in Kool-Aid and being born with blue eyes doesn’t automatically make blue your color! It’s my favorite color, and me liking it has nothing to do with you! Not everything revolves around you, Kaiser!”

You fumed at him, having blurted out all of the tension mounting inside of your chest. You stood there, wanting to claw off the weight of his arm across your shoulders. You wondered if Kaiser would yell back at you, if those beautiful sapphire eyes of his would narrow into small slits before he’d wind up for the pounce, if he truly would swallow you up into a void of blue nothingness just to prove you wrong.

But instead he threw his head back, and he laughed heartily.

“You’re too funny for your own good.” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye with his other hand, and he barely held himself together long enough to look at you. “The world? Revolve around me? Maybe to all those other stupid commoners. Those brainless fools need a stunning star to guide them. To give them any purpose in life.”

You grimaced, skin crawling with disdain as he yanked you closer. His free hand caressed the outline of your cheeks and jaw, and you let out a small “eep!” as he hooked his fingers under your chin to gingerly lift your face to meet his. You held your breath as the German prodigy leaned in, until the silhouette of his peach-pink lips were much too close to your mouth for your liking.

“But, darling… Oh, my sweet, stupid darling…” His voice was far too smooth for your own liking. Like the lining of a regal blue mink-fur lined cape, the kind you’d see in a 1700s painting of a king, the edge you get from swallowing down a mouthful of ice water. He looked too pleased with himself, having you ensnared perfectly in his arms like this. The thick tension that hung between the two of you felt like poisoned honey, and he shook his head at you mockingly. “If anyone were to pay attention closely, they’d know that the script is much more different for you than it is for those everyday fools.”

“Don’t lump me in your weird fantasy.” You blinked at him defiantly. He pursed his lips slightly, but Kaiser didn’t waver even once.

“All I want to say is that there’s nothing wrong in admiring beautiful things. If you like blue that much, nothing wrong with admiring the blue on me, is there? It’s unhealthy to deny yourself the things that you love so much.” He let you go finally, and you practically leapt out away from him. “If you don’t want to throw yourself at my feet and beg to play the role of my dedicated love interest, that’s fine too! Although, I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to. Anyone would be honored to have my attention the way you do.”

“You’re a self-centered prick. I don’t want to give you any more attention than what I’m already wasting on you.”

“That’s what I’m saying! If you let down your high walls and properly let yourself admire me for the beautiful, charming, handsome guy I am, then it wouldn’t be a waste of your time.” He expertly flicked his hair over his shoulder, winking at you as some of the strands tumbled down his collarbones and back. As atrocious of a haircut as it was, you did have to admit that the color of his weird gradient was very pleasing to your eyes.

But you’d rather eat knives than admit it out loud.

“You’ll have to try harder than that. Anyone can dye hair,” you muttered, thoroughly unconvinced. “And before you ask, I’m not interested in staring at your eyes either. Blue eyes mean nothing to me. And I can always go buy color contacts off the internet and stare at those instead if I really want to.”

“Boo! That’s so boring! Wouldn’t you want a real living person? Someone with personality?” He pouted.

You rolled your own eyes. “Yeah. Someone that doesn’t have a stick stuck up their ass.”

Kaiser pressed his lips into a line, suddenly lost in heavy thought. He knew your patience was already running thin with him, and while it was frustrating that the typical antics he’d lavish onto his fans wasn’t netting him the reaction he wanted from you, it still thrilled him the same. You were so tough to crack! He knew deep down that you had some heart for him and that you loved admiring beautiful things! And was he not the most beautiful thing of them all? He was skilled, talented, the kind of guy anyone should be flattered to have. All he needed was to convince you with something unique, something that no other groupie or fan of his couldn’t have, and maybe that would be the key to luring you over.

To turn that burning red hatred of yours into a calm, placated blue interest.

“Well, what if I give you something truly special then? If I could show you something that you have to admit is beautiful, would you admire me then?” He offered tentatively. You sniffed, keeping your head held high, but he took your silence to mean that it wasn’t a complete refusal.

He broke out into the biggest grin you had ever seen. Your confidence wavered slightly at his smug smirk, and nervousness prickled over your skin. You held your breath as Kaiser slowly raised his hand to his neck. Two fingers hooked onto the golden collar of his Bastard Munchen uniform, which covered a generous portion of his neck.

He yanked down.

A flash of deep, royal blue stunned your vision, and your eyes instinctively widened. Kaiser tilted his neck to the opposite side, making sure you could catch a proper glimpse at the part of his throat that was normally concealed by his uniform. You felt like something inside of your brain had violently hit the brakes the moment the color hit your eyes.

Roses.

Beautiful, beautiful blue roses.

You’re automatically entranced by them. They’re tattoos, each expertly painted on his skin with a careful hand. The black outline makes the rich hues pop even more against his body, and while you tiptoe forward to catch a better view, you can only make out the better part of one of the bigger roses. The rest are covered by his uniform, and you can see the hint of inked thorns traveling away from the flowers and towards his arm.

Kaiser instantly caught the shift in energy from you. He wisely kept his mouth shut, but some prideful part of him was celebrating inwardly. He let you step closer to admire the handiwork on his body, your curiosity delighting him to no ends.

You wanted to touch them. To touch him. Oh, you could imagine the feeling of soft rose petals under your fingertips while you were utterly mesmerized by his tattoo, almost forgetting that it was just an inked drawing rather than real flowers.

“Well? Isn’t it lovely?”

You flinched, snapping back to life. Dumbfounded, you were at a loss for words. It was completely unlike you to not have some kind of mean comeback to snark at him with, but the secret weapon Kaiser had on hand was too much. His tattoo had overwhelmed you in a heartbeat, the artistic touch only making you want to see it again.

But unfortunately for you, he adjusted his uniform back into its regular position with a cruel smile. “See? I knew you’d like it. Do you want to look at it again? Oh, I know you do. C’mon, tell me. Tell me you want to see it again. It’s not like I’m going to refuse.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and very hesitantly, you swallowed back your pride. “Can… Can I see your tattoo again?”

“With pleasure, darling.” He cooed. He paused for a moment, and he pulled you closer towards him. You gulped nervously when he peered down at you, clearly savoring the victory he had earned by pulling wool (or in this case, a lovely tattoo) over your eyes.

“But why don’t I take you to my room instead? I’ll take off my shirt for you. That way you can see the entire thing. And then you can fawn over me properly. You just said you wanted to see my tattoo again. Those pretty roses,” he leaned in, tempting you over and over with the fleeting memory, “Those pretty, pretty roses that are in your absolute favorite color.”

You were torn, and Kaiser reveled in that tormented expression of yours.

He held his hand out. “No need to be shy. Let me show you all sorts of beautiful blue things, my darling.”

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser #x reader #my writing #this is me totally not self projecting (insane abt the color blue)#also please genuinely check out the song i picked out for this fic #the lyrics make so many color references n i genuinely think its so like . fitting for kaiser #esp the lyric when woodz says #'anyone can have a passionate red love'#'but between us its blue so make it more more blue'#I PROMMY IT MAKES MORE POETIC SENSE IN THE OG KOREAN BUT ITS SUCH A GOOD LYRIC TO ME #there is rot in the brain #also if u make any inappropriate jokes ill literally kill u

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recycledraccoon · 17 days

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Quick! I'm from the future!! I need your inkblade headcanons or scenarios or the universe will implode!

Ok ok, I can do this. I can answer this ask without going out of control. I can be normal about this, I can.

I don't have very many hardset headcanons, but more vibes that rise and fall like the tide. Oisin's fins/head-crest flare out ramrod straight and the spines turn as purple as his face if he's blushing hard enough. I will die on this hill. Oisin's non-verbal emotions are actually really easy to pick up on if he's too distracted to keep them tightly in control. A thick dragonborn tail lashing back and forth like an outlet for Emotions That Are Too Big can be really inconvenient in a highschool hallway. The rise and fall of his fins/head-crest are MUCH harder to hide however. Oisin also smells perpetually of petrichor, and it drives Adaine insane.

1. I think Oisin's crush started softly, and with indescribable longing, probably before he ever knew who she was. Freshman year, a Thursday Intro To Glyphs class. He doesn't know or talk to her at all, just a face in a class he has that he barely notices. So he's not falling for her quite yet.

I think he first fell in love in the way one does when you see a stranger sitting across from you on the public bus or train. The sunlight hit her hair and he couldn't take his eyes off suddenly. Maybe he saw her smiling and laughing with her friends, maybe she was rolling her eyes at them with her nose scrunched up just a little in faint judgement, maybe he can't even remember because while walking past in the hallway he had been so dumb-struck for a second he walked face first into an open locker door to Ivy's absolute confusion. (She does laugh at him mercilessly, even if he won't say why he walked into it.)

It's a moment of "I don't know you, you don't know me, but for one unfathomably long moment I wanted nothing more than to imagine a life lived that included basking near you and your smile every day until I die."

Unrealistic right? Just a passing stranger, this isn't a love story, it's an average Tuesday and Oisin has homework and an appointment with his party in the forest after school.

He gathers his bearings and moves on, and if his mind wanders back to the girl in the hall who had captivated him to lethal effect? Well it's a pleasant memory for him and he thinks that's allowed, right?

Except she's in his Glyph class two days later, he realizes, and suddenly that hallway moment of longing rushes back until his entire face is purple and he's trying not to stare at the occasionally stuttering but brilliant wizard girl two rows ahead in class.

1a. I think Oisin continued to take Glyph classes at first because he hoped she would too. Adaine doesn't, but Oisin continues because he is good at them and enjoys it and it's certainly easier to learn when he's not distracted in class 70% of the time.

2. As Oisin gets older, more and more of his dragonic nature becomes apparent. It's like a second puberty happening concurrently with normal puberty, which means it's a rollercoaster nightmare for him and the High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders.

2a. Dragons have hoards, but not all dragons hoard the same things, even within their own subclasses. Still, Oisin has quite a few gems and jewels in his fledgling hoard, despite not knowing what he most wants to hoard, and if his favorite gem just so happens to be one that reminds him of the shade of blue in a particular elven girl's eyes then-

2b. Oisin also has a deep fondness for rain and storms. He always knows if it's incoming even if it's not in the forecast. Something primal in him connects to the raging skies, for good or ill. It makes him feel confident and powerful. He also considers it very romantic. Unfortunately, Adaine gets so cross with him anytime she hears him predict a storm coming, even if he's talking to literally anyone else. (Adaine thinks Oisin is a storm himself, and if she is not careful she will be like the last Oracle and have forgotten to stock up on water breathing spells and drown in him amidst the storm of his being.)

2c. Dragons also hold great respect for power and prowess. Physical fights for hierarchy, play, or even courtship are very normal. For all that they are sentient brilliant beings, Dragons are still wild, untameable, primal things. This lurks underneath all of them, good or evil. Some are just more adept at hiding it. For courtship, this comes into play as sizing the other up. Both sides are looking to find out whether or not the other has any worth as a long term partner who would need to help guard the nest. Protecting eggs and hoards from greedy adventurers is serious business. There are reasons there aren't many truly ancient dragons. Too large a discrepancy in strength can sometimes be a turn off for the stronger one, so the most successful courtships are usually of similarly strong dragons, or at least, ones that put up enough of a fight despite the gap.

c1. Oisin, seeing the great accomplishments and prowess of Adaine Abernant over the course of Freshman year, feels a deep stirring even before he's rage-starred. He wants to fight her so badly, to sling magic and bloody teeth until the raging beast inside is sated. Naturally this scares him at first, and Oisin REFUSES to seek Adaine out to talk because of it, because the teen boy part of himself wants something kind, soft and tender between them, while the dragon making itself known as he ages wants to prove itself strong to her.

Later, he will tell himself this urge was ENTIRELY because he'd been on the path towards being contaminated-then-consumed with rage and wanted the Bad Kids dead. Absolutely not because it's the first step in traditional dragon courtship. He just wants to prove himself to her. He wants to feel for himself the confirmation of her renowned battle prowess. This is all for purely rival-related reasons, he tells himself. He is, perhaps, a bit of a liar.

3. Adaine's crush, not just her thinking he's cute but her actual legitimate crush on him, actually starts when the Rat Grinders are being redeemed post-Junior Year.

Like, she hates his GUTS. He made her feel belittled and stupid during Junior year, and yes they kicked his and his friends asses, but also now they just have to deal with them still being around. (Yes this is how they made friends with Ragh too, but they're petty.)

Except...so now they have to spend time together, maybe in classes maybe because Lucy loves her friends despite everything but is also now a friend of The Bad Kids. The former Rat Grinders are CLEARLY trying so hard to be better and kinder, but still the parties are mingling and there is tension but its also so fucking funny.

So Adaine and Oisin's interactions is just a montage of them being assholes to each other. Oisin can be polite and respectable, funny even, with everyone BUT Adaine apparently. Bickering about wizard things, taunting cutting words, and Adaine repeatedly trying to punch his smug face whenever he gets too close while gloating if he's right about something.

3a. Adaine literally tells Aelwyn that while she wants and needs kindness, she does acknowledge that it's messed up that she wishes someone was a little mean to her sometimes. This rivalry with Oisin is NOT WHAT SHE MEANT!!!!!! (the monkey paw curls)

3b. The worst part, is no matter how much Adaine hates Oisin, is that it doesn't stop him from being attractive. Oh sure, she thinks he's an absolute asshole when he's sitting across from her in the library, but......

He's still absurdly tall, with large arms that are for more than just show. The conjuration tattoos are both practical and very pleasing to the eye, the almost electric blue of them a pleasing contrast to the softer blue shade of his scales.

The contradiction of those large round spectacles resting on his snout makes him look just dorky enough to go from being just another buff guy to being....well. Unfortunately, the glasses also do nothing to shield Adaine from the weight of his gaze.

When he looks at her with his full attention, behind those glasses are eyes of molten gold, and trained solely on her that gaze feels searing hot wherever it lands.

3c. Or perhaps, the worst part is she despises how he laughs. Sometimes, when she says something as clever as it is cutting, Oisin throws his head back just a little to laugh, bright and warm, all while his throat rumbles. It must be something draconic in nature, like a strong purr or distant rain clouds. It's much harder to get him to make that particular sound when he laughs, and the rumble feels unfairly like victory. Like she cracked the careful fascade he puts up to pretend like he's not a dragon.

The rumble also feels particularly reminiscent of butterflies in her stomach. (She elects to ignore this part.)

4. Oisin is a dragon, and he is a little obsessed with Adaine even if he doesn't dare to dream of going on an actual date with her after everything from the previous year. He cannot imagine a world where she would ever again believe him to be genuine in affection or intention towards romantic feelings. No instance of genuine fluster could ever be seen as anything but a clever ruse, he tells himself, he certainly wouldn't believe it if it was him.

But he's got her attention now, and he is possessive of that, of what he CAN get. Even if she hates his guts and pointblank threatens to kill him if he steps out of line-

Even if it's because she hates him, Oisin still has her eyes on him. Eyes like clear skies before the rolling storm, like they can pierce through everything he is and will ever be and know the truth of it.

Every conversation is like a battle, a verbal sparring that he TELLS himself is nothing at all like the courtship fights, but oh how sweet does it sound to his inner dragon. She could be cussing him out and he could feel like his heart would burst from his chest from the affection he feels, even as he riles her up further, until she slips into saccharine elven curses that he can practically taste on his forked tongue.

4a. Once he tosses back a clever jape in draconic at her. When she immediately starts in on him with the gutteral words of his native tongue, perfectly fluent but lilted ever so slightly like a refined melody, his tail accidentally knocks over a chair and his crest flares so strongly that he KNOWS his face must be more purple than a ripe plum. He's lost a battle and her laughter at the way he flees claiming he forgot something haunts him for days. He tries to get revenge by whispering things under his breath at her in Elvish, and her glare is divine, but it's so risky because she might just start talking to him draconic again and Oisin fears he could live a thousand years and still not be able to handle the sound of it when it falls from her lips.

a1. It's a lost cause. Adaine has a weakness now, and she wields it with all the precision she's developed on a battlefield. It's the cutest surest way to put him in his place, rile him up with the same burning fire that he seems so expert in stirring up in her. Oh he might try to argue back in draconic, or even throw a taunt out in Elvish, but he always stalks off first. (He makes the refined, posh but ancient language of Elvish sound like something Tracker would appreciate. He makes it sound ever so slightly wild, like something else is lurking behind all the refinery. Adaine is well practiced in steadying her breathing, and Oisin always cracks first.)

5. Everyone has seen these two bicker back and forth, and everyone knows trying to get them to stop or get between them means the two turn as a united front against whoever interrupted, and that's honestly worse.

5a. The Bad Kids and High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders have an ongoing bet amongst themselves on on if the two will snap and legitimately murder each other, or snap and start making out in the library. It's honestly way too elaborate of a betting system with odds changing all the time, but it is actually probably the most fun, non-tense bonding the two groups have together. They have also gone to GREAT LENGTHS to keep it secret from the two wizards, especially when one of them is the fucking ORACLE.

6. It's not all bickering and scathing words. Sometimes, when nobody else is around to see behind this precarious curtain...its soft and tender too.

6a. Sometimes, when Adaine is genuinely having a bad day and feels one wrong moment from truly snapping, she feels the magic of a conjured summon passing by whatever table or nook she stowed herself away to hide in. The smell of arcane-tinted petrichor lingers afterwards, and settled nearby is a warm drink that hadn't been there before. Sometimes its tea's she's fond of, sometimes a warm peppermint mocha from her favorite coffee place downtown. Against her better judgement, she is increasingly fond of the smell of rain. 6b. Sometimes, the rage feels like it never left Oisin's body. It burns him inside and out, and he's so exhausted fighting back these aftershocks. He is trying every day to make up for what he's done, but the feeling of unbridled rage haunts him. To indulge is to fail, fall off the wagon, and he will not falter, even if he squeezes his hands so tightly they bleed beneath his claws. A message cantrip blooms to life in his mind. Melodic, lilted draconic, giving not words of comfort, but familiar unafraid taunts. It's a challenge, he knows it, and somehow that makes it easier, rage giving way to fondness and the desire to prove himself. 6c. There are more late nights in libraries and sitting close at tables in out of the way restaurants working on difficult projects then either would ever let anyone know, not that they let anyone know of them at all. It's quiet honest conversations over dusty tomes and scattered papers. (They couldn't know how to make the most cutting of remarks if they knew nothing about each other, after all.) a1. Its Oisin, laying his head down in his arms over the library table, eyes watching her sitting next to him with hair falling in her face like it always does when shes bent forward focusing intently on her work. There are many, many times when Oisin does nothing but watch in silence. Sometimes, rarely, when its late and nobody will come by except to kick them out- He reaches a claw to gingerly tuck the silken gold hair behind the bright red ear of a girl who doesn't say anything about it, before he looks away entirely, trying to ignore the way he can feel his crest fluttering up and down as it seemingly contemplates flaring out.

a2. It's Adaine, rolling her eyes with no heat, as she steps into his personal space and is enveloped in the smell of petrichor. Calloused fingers lingering on rough scales as she ever so gently corrects a stance or spell casting motion that the unfairly tall dragonborn boy next to her had been working on perfecting.

The both know she doesn't have to be so close for this, that another demonstration from beside him would work just fine. He doesn't have to bend ever so slightly, dip his long draconian neck down so he can better hear her murmured words either, so close they can feel the heat of the others breath. He casts the spell perfectly, and Adaine steps back out to a respectable distance, and neither of them say anything about it.

7. Neither of them ever mention any of it. It feels taboo, like the triggering of a spell that will destroy both of them. The fighting, the bickering, the cutting words and sharp swords aimed at jugulars? That's easy, that's familiar and safe. It's what's supposed to happen between them, safe territory they can walk with eyes closed. It's the tenderness that's hard. It's the yearning and soft touches aborted at the last moment-

This is what would be their ruin, and the threat of it lingers above them, rolling clouds heavy with rain that just wont fall. Days, weeks, months pass by and they do not mention it.

8. Adaine, flush with Oracle-sure certainty, gestures for Oisin to slow down, to bend down low so she can tell him something. He protests, its about to rain any second and really Abernant, they're going to be late- Adaine kisses Oisin first, soft and sure as her hands cradle his scaled jaw, just as the dark clouds above them break open.

The kiss tastes like rain, and the loud, pleased rumble in her ears certainly isn't from the storm coming down on them.

#IM ABSOLUTELY NORMAL aslfjuhbalefjbna #this got TOO LONG #I WASNT SUPPOSED TO WRITE FIC WHEN ANSWERING THIS #anyway blah blah blah the poetic nature of the elven oracle falling in love with a storm dragon #gosh i'm gonna have to restructure this for ao3 uuuuuug #if anyone is trying to clock where I'm self projecting from my own previous crushes #You Don't See Anything Shut Up #adaine x oisin #inkblade #adaine abernant #oisin hakinvar #fhjy #fhjy fanfic #oisaine

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passionartx · 2 months

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Tails when I start thinking about my fic, au and art ideas I’ve had lingering in my brain for years but almost all of them involve making him sad ^

Sorry little buddy <\3 😔

#miles tails prower #no rest for the lil guy #IT’S OUT OF LOVE TAILS I SWEAR #you know you got a favourite character when you want to make them cry <3 #but when I’m in ahhh snsknaja #have officially signed up for ao3 but am on a 13ish day long waiting list #lil drowning fic is still in the works so hopefully I’ll be able to get something out eventually! <3 #had a new fic idea yesterday too eeee #self projection is a curse and blessing #sonic the hedgehog #sth #tails the fox #sonic #tails #passionxart

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horsegirlwarcrimes · 2 months

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if your still doing the fic-wip thing, i would love to know about the YQY and SQH De-Aged Fic or the shen yuan transmigrats into YQY fic.

i also really loved the two YQY and Zhúzhī Láng adventure snippets u posted🩷🩵

ahh thank you so much!!! ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ

theres another bit of this fic here with a description, but here's a later scene! this fic is everything to me yall are making me so excited to finish it

"You're Shen Qingqiu." The boy exclaimed, eyes wide. "How do you know that name?" "Wow, you look just like I imagined! Haha… ha." His laughter trailed off and he lifted a hand to thread into his shorn hair and tugged tightly. His voice took on a sharp quaver. "That's it, I've really gone insane, huh?" Shen Qingqiu turned to Mu Qingfang. "How could he know that? Shang Qinghua was older than I was when I joined the sect. I wasn't named Qingqiu until years later." Mu Qingfang knelt by the side of the bed. He had a way of making himself softer, nonthreatening, that annoyed Shen Qingqiu both for the saccharin quality of the affectation and, privately, his own inability to immitate it. One might catch more flies with honey, but Shen Qingqiu has only ever had vinegar in his arsenal. The young Shang Qinghua didn't seem comforted by it, and leaned away warily as Mu Qingfang settled next to him. "Do you know where you are, Shang-gongzi?" he asked. The young Shang Qinghua swallowed. "If he's supposed to be Shen Qingqiu, then this is Cang Qiong Mountain, huh?" The doctor nodded. "Yes, that's good. You remember entering the sect then?" "Entering the—no! What is this, some—some isekai shit? Into my ideas? This—this isn't real. I'm hallucinating." "You know who we are and where you are, what makes you feel it must be a dream?" "This isn't real. You're not real, Cang Qiong isn't—Shen Qingqiu isn't real. He's just a character I thought of, I haven't even written it down yet." "A… character?" "Yeah, you know." The boy bunched his hands up in the thin blanket and looked down at his lap. They were trembling. "Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qi, Yue Qingyuan. Two slave boys who are seperate when they're children, and fight their way back together at Cang Qiong mountain and become top cultivators. But there's like, you know, drama and stuff."

#welcome to my 'sqh wrote qijiu's plot first' agenda #svsss #this project needs a name...#qijiu #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #mu qingfang #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system #svsss fic #scum villain fanfic #sqh #mqf #sqq #sj #burywrites.pdf #askbox #buryspeaks.mp3

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wikiangela · 4 months

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wip wednesday

tagged by @theotherbuckley 💖

I wasn't gonna post any today bc progress slowed down with working mornings again and having to actually sleep at night 🙄😂, but i'm so excited about this fic and I'm loving it and I just wanna share it all lol

prev snippet

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“I’m fine.” Buck responds through gritted teeth. He’s okay, he’s fine, he can do this. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” he laughs, wiping his cheeks with one hand. He needs to get a grip. At least while he’s driving. “This is all so stupid, I’m fine, everything is fine.” he takes a deep breath.

“You don’t have to be fine. Not with me.” Eddie says, and he sounds almost desperate. Desperate for Buck to listen, to hear him. He sounds so earnest and gentle, and Buck can imagine those piercing eyes that always feel like Eddie’s looking into his soul, and he can’t handle this. He can’t handle being so cared for, he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve someone as wonderful as Eddie. All he does is make him worry. All he does is make everyone worry. (...) Eddie once said Buck's the guy who wants to fix everything, and it’s true. He wants to fix everything for everyone he loves. He’s the only thing that’s unfixable, though. And he hates that people even try, only to get burned in the process.

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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @exhuastedpigeon @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @fortheloveofbuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz

#wip wednesday #buck driving fic #buddie wip #buddie fic #buddie #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #btw if you want me to start tagging you or stop tagging you just lmk <3 #istg i can't wait to share it all i love this fic so much #it's so self-indulgent bc it's me projecting and it's so perfectly what i needed to write/read lol #it's gonna be a happy-ish ending tho! at least hopeful lol #why is putting buck through it so fun and cathartic lmao #also don't worry y'all there's not gonna be a car crash - Buck will not be physically harmed in this fic 🤣#he's lowkey a reflection of my mental state rn and it's not *that* bad (yet) lol

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i-am-church-the-cat · 3 months

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logan's pov on the soulmate au? 👀🙏

😌🕶️🤏🏼😎

Logan had grown up dreading meeting his soulmate. His parents were soulmates and had gotten married less than a year after they met. Dalton didn't have a soulmark and his parents always treated it like it was some tragedy. They always told Logan that the day he met his soulmate would be the happiest of his life, that he would fall in love with her immediately and never want to be with anyone else.

That was a problem for two reasons. 1) he didn't think he liked girls enough to want to be around one all the time. And 2) he was always moving around and leaving for karting. Racing was his true love, he didn't have time for a soulmate on top of that.

Despite all of that, his parents hadn't been entirely wrong. Logan knew immediately when he met his soulmate (who was a boy and not a girl, just like he had told them) but he didn't feel any differently about him than he did any of his other friends.

As they got older and got closer, Logan realized how important Oscar really was to him. He'd never had anyone that he could count on to always be there for him. Oscar was that person for him, and he clung onto him like a lifeline. He's glad Oscar didn't seem to mind.

They got older though and Logan got a bit more independent. The day that his parents would claim to be the worst day of his life wasn't actually that bad.

"I think I want to ask Lily out," Oscar said, looking seriously into the phone screen.

"Lily Zneimer? Your classmate?" Logan asks, looking up from the homework they were doing. Though Oscar and Logan were close, Oscar went to a different school in a different town. It wouldn't take long to get there but since they saw each other most weekends anyway, they didn't bother. "That sounds good, dude, what's the issue?" He asks, cause he could feel that something was bothering Oscar.

"You wouldn't be mad?" The younger boy asked, looking worried.

Logan paused and thought about it. Everything his parents told him tells him he should be mad. But he isn't. If Oscar likes a girl, he should ask her out. Logan wants him to be happy. And the little place in the back of his head that is distinctly Oscar tells him that nothing would ever take the other boy away from him. Logan didn't have to worry about being left behind when it came to Oscar.

"Of course not. If you like her, go for it."

He felt and saw Oscar relax and the younger boy gave him a small smile through the screen. "You know, you can date someone, too, if you want."

"Yeah maybe," Logan says, shrugging the idea off. Over the last couple of years Logan has realized he doesn't have the desire to date and fall in love like the rest of his classmates do, like Oscar does. He wants to be loved and accepted by his friends and family, he wants to race and be the best that he can. He doesn't need another person to do that with, though.

Logan haltingly tries to explain this to Oscar but the boy stops him.

"I get it, mate, I can feel you, too, you know? If you don't ever want to date anybody, that's cool."

Logan gives his friend and soulmate a smile, falling into the easy acceptance that has always been a part of their relationship.

"Well, when you and Lily get married and have tons of kids, I'll be the fun uncle with 3 dogs and a yacht."

"Shut up, Logan," Oscar says, blushing bright red. Logan can't help but laugh at him.

"Logan can you get the bread out of the oven, please?" Lily asks as soon as she hears him walk through the door.

"Yes ma'am," Logan says, dropping a kiss on Lily's cheek as he walks by, grabbing the oven mitts where he knows they'll be. It's been a year since Lily and Oscar got this apartment together and between races and sleepovers, Logan feels like he's here more than his own apartment.

"You're late," Oscar says, coming in from the balcony where he was taking a call. Logan just smiles at him, the same smile Oscar always says makes him look like a puppy. Oscar shakes his head and leans down to kiss Lily before slapping Logan on the shoulder in greeting.

"How has your day been, Lo?" Lily asks, moving things around on the table to make space for the bread tray.

"It was good, Elias and I spent most of it training." Oscar shudders at the mention of physical exercise during the off-season and Logan laughs.

They sit down to eat, Oscar and Lily on one side and Logan on the other, and Logan listens as Lily talks about her newest project at work. Despite being around engineers all day, most of it goes over his head, and he can tell it goes over Oscar's too. Still, he's got experience at this point, and knows when to ask all the right questions.

After dinner, Oscar and Lily end up bickering over the dishes, Logan as a "guest" being relegated to the couch. He watches in amusement at the fight, the warm feeling of acceptance and domesticity washing over him.

His parents haven't stopped nagging him about getting a boyfriend and Dalton still tries to set him up every time he's in town. But really, this is all Logan needs.

#haha surprise aromantic logan!#that's right i'm self-projecting on the sweet blonde boy again surprise surprise #okay this is the final installment guys i think i am done with this series #sorry sorry #logan sargeant #oscar piastri #lily zneimer #there needs to be more fics where logan and lily are friends #oscar/lily #loscar #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #f1 rpf #my fic #my writing #anon ask

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wesstars · 9 months

Text

heaven on earth (ii)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)

summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!

read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.

masterlist

For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”

You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.

“Alright, it’s your turn.”

The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear.

Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.

You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.

You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?

You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.

Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.

“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“I’m surprised you know.”

“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.

“Did you just laugh?”

Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing.

“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.

You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.

After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.

Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park.

“Why have you stopped?”

“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”

“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”

She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.

Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.

You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.

You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.

Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss.

“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.

It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.

She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron.

The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you.

“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.

“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.

You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”

You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”

“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips.

Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.

She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow.

She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.

You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.

Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.

You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”

She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.

“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind.

“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet.

“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.

What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.

“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”

You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.

“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.

“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.

“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”

Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.

“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”

“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”

“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”

Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.

“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.

“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.”

“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”

“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”

In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”

Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.

“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”

“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.

“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.

“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.

“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”

The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.

A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”

Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.

“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”

She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.

Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.

“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.

“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”

“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.

“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.

Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.

“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”

You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.

There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”

When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side.

“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”

“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”

Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.

“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.

“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.

You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.

Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.

“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.

“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”

You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver.

“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.

“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”

Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.

She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.

“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”

Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping.

“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”

At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.

“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.

“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.

“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver.

“Fuck—”

You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”

She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping.

“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.

“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.

“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday.

Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips.

Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.

“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.

Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you.

“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.

You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”

wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you.

reader: huh?

a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?

I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

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