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#I feel like I might’ve said something wrong here
laniemae · 6 months
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Uhh sorry guys but I think Trikoto might be dead
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I was looking through the milgram app and when talking about the production of double and deco 27 specifically mentioned there being two Mikotos. It’s not a mistranslation either, I looked into it and the original phrase is “ふたりのミコトは果たしてこのあとどうなってしまうのでしょうか” and “ふたりのミコト” directly translates to “two Mikoto”.
I understand that people may be bummed by this or saying that Mikoto’s story is playing into stereotypes because of this. But personally I have hope, as trial 2 showed that John wasn’t just an “evil alter” stereotype that much and has a much deeper and interesting character comparable to everything else. Although it’s a bit iffy that it was a bait and switch in the first place because there would still be people who’d take it face value. But personally as someone here said (I forgot who I’m sorry) “the best way to do an overused trope is to do it right” which could apply in this situation. I know there are mixed opinions here and personally I have hope but this is just my take on what is very likely the de-conformation of the trikoto theory.
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lovebugism · 2 months
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hello sweetheart, i read your prompt list and saw this one "hug?” “clingy, much?……” but hugs them anyway and my heart melted, i don't know if you already did this, but can we have something like that with our sweet but grumpy eddie? 🤍
ty for requesting! — eddie doesn't know why you're avoiding him (fluff, ditzy!reader, 0.9k)
Eddie lost sight of you ten minutes ago. 
You were squished between Robin and Steve on the loveseat last he saw you, giggling into your solo cup while they belted Total Eclipse of the Heart to you — at you — over the music and in their best Muppet impressions. 
He only remembers it so vividly ‘cause he was jealous. Not jealous because you were subjected to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum’s drunken antics, of course, but jealous because you were with them. And so, so far away. 
Now you’re gone, and he misses you like a stray dog — aggressive and hungry and hurt. He walks up to Steve in the kitchen just the same. Hair wild. Button eyes glittering. Slightly reluctant. 
“Where’d she go?!” he shouts over the music, half-muffled into his drink. He uses the plastic cup like a shield ‘cause he doesn’t want people to know he’s missing you. The metalhead freak from the wrong side of town isn’t supposed to need the ball of sunshine from the suburbs. 
But alas.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Steve slurs, half-distracted as he pours himself a drink. He doesn’t need Eddie to tell him who she is. There’s only one person in the whole world he’d go looking for. “She went outside with Robin, I think—”
Eddie spins on the worn heel of his sneaker before the words can properly leave his mouth. He ducks through the bustling, drunken crowd and finds you sitting lonesome on the porch outside. Prettier than the full moon and all the stars in the velvet black sky combined. 
He walks to stand beside you, shoes thunking heavy on the wooden deck. You tilt your chin to smile brightly up at him while he slips a cig into his mouth. He cups the stick as he lights it. Pretends that’s what he came out here for. Not to see you, of course. 
Definitely not.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he mumbles beneath the cigarette in his mouth.
“Robin just left,” you answer plainly, half-shy.
“Why didn’t you come find me?” he asks with an air of nonchalance, still trying to play it cool. ‘Cause there’s nothing less metal than yearning.
You shrug. “‘Cause you were busy?”
It’s easier than telling him that you thought he wanted the space. Or that you actually spent the whole night aching to hang on his side — too scared of embarrassing him in front of all his friends to act on it. 
You know who you are just like you know who he is. Bubblegum pink doesn’t always go well with black. It gets in your hair. Makes everything go all sticky. It’s an acquired taste you know Eddie’s still getting used to — too much of it, and his stomach will start to hurt. So you figure it’s best to keep your distance.
You just didn’t think he was as grieved by it all as you were.
Eddie scoffs. I’m never too busy for you, he wants to say. He might’ve if he wasn’t such a coward. Instead, he blows smoke from his lungs and jokes, “I wouldn’t call keeping Argyle from crowd-surfing in the living room busy, sweetheart.”
A laugh tumbles from his plush lips. The golden sound falls over your skin like stars. You smile absentmindedly back at him as you rise from the creaking rocking chair. You plant your feet ahead of his and smooth your palms beneath his leather jacket, over his warm sides.
Eddie meets your twinkling eyes with narrowed chocolate ones. “What?”
“Hug?” you ask in a mousy voice.
The boy laughs like he’s too cool for affection, though he’d be lying if he said your offer doesn’t have his chest sparkling something fierce. He flicks the cig to the ground — sheepish gaze going with it — before snuffing it out beneath his sneaker.
“Clingy much?” he scoffs.
You nod with a proud smile. 
Eddie’s chest swirls with an unfamiliar feeling. You’re strangely brave about all this — affection and love and all things sweet enough to make him gag. 
It makes him feel like he can feel brave, too.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you with all the intensity of someone wanting to swallow you whole. You hug him back just the same. “I missed you,” you murmur with your cheek squished against his chest.
“Then what’re you avoidin’ me for, huh?” he teases, chin bobbing against your head.
You pull slightly back to squint at him. “I’m not avoiding you.”
“You’ve been hangin’ out with Steve and Robin the whole night,” he grieves, hiding his sincerity behind boyish theatrics. With a feigned pout that feels totally real, he says, “And you didn’t even sit next to me when we played Never Have I Ever.”
“I thought you wanted the space,” you confess in a hushed voice.
His face screws up like he’s tasted something sour. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know…” you shrug. “You always talk about how much you like being alone and stuff, so—”
“Well, yeah! I like my space— just not from you!”
It’s likely the least metal thing he’s ever said.
“Oh,” you hum, mouth contorting into a sheepish beam. “Well… Sorry.”
“Yeah. You should be,” he scoffs, mostly joking. He pouts softly and pulls you back into him again, nosing at your hair until his chapped lips brush your temple. “Just don’t let it happen again, alright?”
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 5 months
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beautiful mess | f. odair
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masterlist
summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc
notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3
“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”
His playful words didn’t register in your mind.
Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.
“Sweetheart?”
Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.
A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.
That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.
Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.
“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.
A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.
“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”
All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”
You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.
“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”
Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.
Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….
“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”
Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.
He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.
Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.
Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.
“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”
You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.
“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.
I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”
Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.
You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.
“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.
“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”
You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”
He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”
He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.
What is love without a little suffering?
His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.
You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.
So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.
“Always,” he whispered in return.
Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.
“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”
Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.
Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.
“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”
You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”
He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”
“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”
In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.
The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.
It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.
You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."
He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”
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yuki-world · 6 months
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那维莱特 | NEUVILLETTE ; TEACH
summary | you're just so sexually inexperienced, surely neuvillette, someone who has lived for millenniums, could teach you a thing or two about pleasuring someone?
tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, slight corruption, first-time blowjob, throat bulge, face-fucking, cum swallowing, praise kink, mentions of virginity, 1.9k words
a/n : you have no idea how down bad i am. pt 2 here —> learn
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neuvillette is not amused.
he’s always open to sharing his knowledge with others; in fact, he has been teaching you a plethora of things, more than you could’ve imagined. you admired neuvillette, he knew that very well. experience was definitely something he didn’t lack.
but some things… aren’t meant to be shared, especially not whatever you were asking for.
“its not that big of a deal,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “you said you would teach me anything.”
“please, it's unwise to joke about things like that,” neuvillette says. he looks at you for any hints of a smile, a giggle, anything to indicate that you were joking. he sees nothingー just you with your head slightly tilted, waiting patiently for his answer. quite cute, he must admit.
look, he understands that you are a curious person; you’re always up for expanding your knowledge. but isn’t this… a little too much? asking him to teach you how to give a blowjob? it's not like he didn’t have experience with… that. but this topic wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he said you could ask him anything.
but neuvillette has a soft spot for you; he’s come to grow fond of you. what started from him finding it annoying how you pester him on the daily, to him looking forward to seeing you as an escape from his work. you’re like a breath of fresh air. he has no obligation to, but he feels like it's his job to guide and protect you.
the room fills with silence, and you attempt to draw an answer out of him again. he’ll probably give in, you think. after all, he does have a soft spot for you. “oh, but i’m not joking,” you rebutted. “why won’t you teach me?” you try again, hoping your question would be answered.
its silent yet again, the lack of response making you click your tongue. its hard to figure out how he’s feeling, because the look on his face tells you nothing. that’s when you thought you could tease him a little to get a reaction out of him, if that would even work.
“how disappointing. i suppose i’ll just have to ask someone else, maybe wriothesley? i’m sure he’ll be happy to teach me.”
the mention of another man’s name has his attention back onto you immediately. sure, he’s hesitant on teaching you about pleasuring someone. but no way is he going to let you ask someone else about this; he won’t allow it. won’t even consider it. the image of you sucking another man off has him furrowing his eyebrows.
“what do you think? or maybe i should askー”
“i think that’s enough, y/n.”
at this point, you think you might’ve actually made him angry. he’s never sounded this strict with you before, it almost sounds like he’s about to give you a whole lecture on why you shouldn’t be asking for these types of things. but he doesn’t.
it’s such a dirty act, it feels terribly wrong, but he simply couldn’t deprive you of such knowledge. if something like this piques your curiosity, then he will go along with it to satisfy you.
neuvillette clears his throat, composing himself. “i will only teach you onceー once and we won’t speak about this again. does that sound alright?”
he sees your face light up in an instant, nodding eagerly. “thank you, neuvillette! i will be forever grateful!” you exclaim, and he feels his cock twitch in his pants. fuck, he thinks. you’re going to be the death of him.
“kneel for me,” he asks of you, and you lower yourself obediently. you’re directly facing his crotch, and embarrassment creeps onto you. you shy away from the image in front of you, nervously playing with your fingers. your face is flushed red no matter how hard you try to hide it.
he notices immediately, hand reaching to stroke your hair, intending to provide some sort of comfort and reassurance. “are you nervous?” he questions, and you nod slowly.
“oh, love. don’t be nervous. i’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
your heart jumps at the pet name, eyes widening. that felt way too good to hear. you don’t ask if he called you that by mistake, partially because you were too eager to proceed, but also because you didn’t want him to correct himselfー if it was even a mistake at all. “please do, neuvillette,” you urge.
he finally releases his cock from the confines of his pants, hard and erect as it lightly slaps your cheek when he pulls it out.
you almost start drooling at his length. it was so large, so long, so thick. you haven’t even put it in your mouth and you’re already starting to think about how it would feel inside you. the pink tip leaks pearly drops of pre-cum. your hands reach up to his cock immediately, and he hisses.
“eager now, are we?” he teases, while you’re still in awe over his impressive size. he silently chuckles at how you admire his length, almost like you just found treasure. “have you ever seen a cock, y/n?”
you’ve… seen a few. not in real life though, and definitely none similar to his size. it's different, in a good way, seeing it up-close. it’s even more special because it's neuvillette. “not in real lifeー not like this, no.”
“i see,” he says, exhaling as he pulls your hand off, giving himself a couple of pumps. were you really that pure? it makes him so hard.
“are you ready? listen very carefully, yes?” he guides his cock onto your lips, tapping a few times. “take it in slowly, and ensure your teeth don’t touch,” he tells you.
he taps his cock on your lips again, and you open your mouth again without any hesitation. he guides his cock into your mouth inch by inch, and you taste his pre-cum on your tongue immediately. a tad bit salty, but you can take it.
“y/nー oh…” he sighs in pleasure as he feels your mouth wrap around his cock-head. he was in heavenー your mouth was so warm and wet, he could barely control himself from fucking into your face. he should be the one composed, he should be the one staying calm, he’s the one teaching you for fuck’s sake; yet he’s the one struggling as you start taking his cock further into your mouth.
“just like that, a little moreー mmh… thats it,” his breath hitches when he feels the tip hit the back of your throat. he was so deep in, but he wanted to just thrust it in further. you took it so well, he thinks. not even gagging like he expected you to, and no teeth just like he told you to. how obedient.
you adjusted your mouth on his cock as your drool started dripping down onto your lap. your hand reaches up to stroke what you couldn’t take in, and it elicits a gasp from him. he doesn’t instruct you to, but you start moving on your own as if you’ve done it before.
you drench his cock with your saliva as you suck him off, your hands holding his thighs for support.
“such a good girl, y/n. you take my cock so wellー don’t even need to teach you,” he praises and you hum around him as a form of thanks. you take that as motivation as you suck faster, occasionally swirling your tongue on the tip. you tongue his slit, licking up every drop of pre-cum that leaks.
he throws his head back when you take him particularly deep in your throat, and he almost couldn’t take it anymore. he stops you, pulling you off his cock. copious amounts of saliva drip out, a string of saliva connecting his cock to your mouth.
this was a sight he could only ever see in his dreams. your lips swollen, cheeks flushed red, your eyes tearyー god, he loves you, he really loves you. he thinks you look absolutely beautiful even with your face covered in your own spit. this does it for him.
“stay put, and let me fuck your face, alright? can you handle it, love?” there it was again, calling you ‘love’. you’re smitten, you’d do anything after hearing him call you that. “iー i can handle it.”
neuvillette smiles, wiping off some of the drool on your face before he slides his cock inside your mouth again. “as expected of my good girl.”
his hands hold the sides of your head for stability, slowly thrusting into your mouth to test the waters. when he’s sure you’re okay, he starts fucking into your face, making sure you feel every inch of his cock down your throat.
he can’t stopー he’s addicted. truth be told, he’s been deprived of sexual pleasure for so long, it felt like heaven. you took him so deep with no complaints, you deserve so much more for being so good to him. he can’t stop thrusting into your mouthー it feels like he was fucking a pussy.
and then thoughts of fucking you invade his mind. if you’ve never given a blowjob before, surely that would mean you’ve never had sex, which makes you a virgin. fuck, he wants to take you so bad. you’d be so tight, so warm, so sweet. would you like to know about sex too, then? would you let him take you?
he’s brought back to reality as your hand grips his thighs, signaling for him to stop. he thinks he might’ve hurt you, but you continue to your administrations. he’s so close, he feels his climax approaching, but he needs slightly more.
“give me your hand,” he requests, and you raise your hand up. he takes it gently, guiding it his balls as he squeezes them. “yeahー ah, keep doing that.”
what a fast learner you are. you massage his balls as you continuing to deep-throat him. the grip on your hair was getting tighter, louder groans coming out from him. “you’re going to make me cum, love. god, i’m so close.”
he breaks when you take him in so deep, he sees a bulge in your throat. it was his last straw. “ohー fuuuck…” he thrusts into you as he blows his load straight down your throat. you didn’t even have time to taste him or even react, widening your eyes as he throws his head back.
he pants, pulling his cock out slightly till only the tip was left in your mouth, pumping out weak spurts of cum. you swallowed it all, even going so far as to licking him clean of any remnants of cum.
neuvillette is a mess. you’re a mess. he’s so far gone, he still feels the effects of his climax. he pulls you off his cock, helping you up before tucking himself back in his pants.
“are you alright, y/n? are you hurt? my apologies, i should have asked for your permission,” he caresses your cheek, referring to how he came in your mouth. you shook your head. “it’s fineー i… liked it.”
“oh? how naughty,” he scolds, smoothing your messy hair down from how he gripped it earlier. “so, was this a helpful lesson, y/n? do you know nowー how to pleasure someone?”
you nodded. “really insightful. thank you, neuvillette. but…”
“but?”
“maybe... you can teach me what an orgasm feels like next?”
“i see. i will gladly indulge.”
ー @yuki-world
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jazzyoranges · 4 months
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Pinky Promise - drabble
Tara Carpenter x gn!reader
Summary: cuddly Tara strikes again
Words: 0.9k
A/n: very much inspired by this fic, please go read it i beg you
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This was your worst fucking nightmare. Well, something close to this.
You’d expect maybe Anika or Mindy to set you up for failure, but your own mother? You were her kin, for christ’s sake!
Not to mention the woman knew what she was doing. Once she pulled the “Oh, it seems there isn’t enough beds for all your friends! My, I must’ve counted wrong!” You knew it was over from the start.
Mindy and Anika shared a bed, Chad and Ethan shared an air bed, leaving Tara to sleep on the couch. Which, you offered Tara to sleep in your room while you slept on the couch, but god did she make it fucking hard. The brunette insisted you sleep on your bed since you were the one driving most of the time during the road trip, but unfortunately your urge for hospitality rivaled her
You argued Tara looked far sleepier, and you thought it was settled when she didn’t respond
You were pretty fucking wrong.
When the time came and you eventually left your bathroom to go to the living room, you don’t expect to see a Tara in a band tee that was about two sizes too big on her, Hello Kitty shorts that barely poked out of her large shirt, and a bunny stuffed animal you gave her not too long ago
She grabbed your hand before you knew what was happening, and pulled you into your room. Half of the reason why you didn’t want to sleep in there was because of how you could distinctly tell your teenage self wore too much eye makeup and chains. The thought makes you cringe, and Tara only laughed at your expression
“Let’s go to bed, please?” You should’ve fucking said no. But how were you supposed to? Tara was looking up at you with her big brown eyes, a shirt that was probably yours, and a sad expression. You couldn’t have said no if you tried.
So here you were, looking at the ceiling in a small bed with Tara’s back touching your arm. A blanket covered her entire body while it only covered your midsection with your hands fidgeting on top of it
You feel the younger Carpenter shiver due to your close proximity, and you realize it’s actually cold in the house. Well, you were awake and you did live here, so it was probably your responsibility to make sure everyone was comfortable. If Tara was cold, everyone else probably was too
It takes a little maneuvering to get up with as little squeaks as possible, but you’re eventually successful. You think so, until you feel something around your wrist
“Don’t sleep on the couch…” You hear Tara mumble half asleep
“You were shivering, I’m changing the temperature” You whisper back, leaning towards her as she huffs
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
Your forehead wrinkles as you think, but you eventually have an idea
“I pinky promise” You stick out the small digit of your hand, and Tara eventually meets you halfway. When she lets go you assume she approves of your leave
The journey to the thermostat isn’t a very long one and you’re back in about a minute, the only challenge being not running up the stairs because you’re afraid of the dark
Tara acts like you’ve been away for years when you come back. Once you’re in arm distance, she pulls you down very quickly
“S’not enough, still cold” Tara mumbles into your chest as she crawls on top of you like it’s nobody’s business. Her arms trap you on both sides after she pulls the blanket over you both. You can tell she’s warm when she sighs and makes sure you know how comfortable you are
“You’re like a teddy bear… my teddy bear” You don’t know how to respond, but Tara obviously does
“I can’t believe you got up for nothing”
“The others might’ve been cold, you know”
“The others can fuck off” Tara yelps when you pinch her nose
“Don’t be mean”
“Mmm… whatever” The brunette sighs again, who’s now in a position with you that resembles a cheetah and their support dog
Now this was your worst fucking nightmare.
Tara, god bless bless her, was a light sleeper. If you moved an inch she’d feel it but now that she was on top of you, you were really fucked
“You’re tense”
“Go to sleep” You whisper
“Pillows are supposed to be soft, not hard” She whispers back, looking directly into your eyes
“Last time I checked, people aren’t supposed to be pillows” Tara snickers at your dumb joke and you resist the urge to poke at her dimples
“Now you’ve got me all awake”
“Be so for real, you’d fall asleep instantly if I stopped talking to you”
“Yeah, you’re right. I would” The brunette rubs her cheek against your shirt, almost like she’s trying to burrow into your chest. A few moments pass, and you’re finally feeling the effects of driving for most of the day. You can feel your body relax more every second
“I love you” Tara whispers so quietly you don’t know if you’re hearing her correctly. You fall asleep before you figure it out
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sister-lucifer · 2 years
Text
“Can I ride you until I feel better?” 
Demon brothers x Reader (Separately)
You’ve had an awful day, and you ask him if you can ride him until you feel better. How does he react?
Reader is gender neutral 
Content/Warnings: Riding, mentions of cockwarming, pre established relationships
like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio 
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and it really helps me out 
Lucifer 
When you first sulked into the room, clearly unhappy, he admittedly was a bit annoyed 
But instead of whining to him like his brothers would, you walked over to his desk and crouched beside him, resting your chin on his knee
“Yes, darling?” 
“Lucifer, I had a bad day…” 
“I could pick up on that.” 
“Can I ride you until I feel better?” 
He froze immediately 
At first he thought it was some weird joke, but when you didn’t laugh he realized you were very serious. 
He could feel his face go hot, but he tried to keep himself calm and collected 
He thought for a moment, then sighed, scooting back from his desk just enough to make room for you and patted his lap 
“Alright, my love. But I hope you know I’m not going to be taking a break from my work, which means you’ll have to do the heavy lifting.”
And if you’re okay with that, feel free to ride him for as long as you’d like 
And when you’re done, stay on his lap for a bit longer and keep his cock warm for him 
If you do, he might just reward you when he’s done working 
Mammon 
“Maaaammoooon!” 
“What d’ya want, human?!” 
He was certainly not in the mood to be barged in on. He was trying to look through a catalogue, this was very important! 
But when you flopped down onto the bed with a whine, he could tell you felt bad
“Hey, what’s the matter, doll face? Ya look down.” 
“Bad day…” 
“Ah, I see. So you want The Great Mammon’s help, huh?”
He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in close, allowing you to whisper in his ear
“I wanna ride you ‘til I feel better…”
His eyes went wide, and his brain might’ve shut down for a second 
“Oh…” 
Soon, his flabbergasted expression is replaced with a sly smirk as he pulls you into his lap. 
“Of course you can, babes! The Great Mammon is always here to help.”
Leviathan 
He was playing a video game in his room when you knocked on his door. He was at first annoyed at the disturbance, but when he realized it was you he was ecstatic 
“Hello my player two! I’ve been waiting for you, I…hey, what’s wrong?”
“Had a bad day…” 
“Oh no! C’mere, sit with me! I’ll make you feel better.”
He pat the bed next to him before returning his attention to his game, rambling about the current storyline or side quest he was one 
But he was promptly cut short when you put a hand on his chest 
“Levi, can I ride you until I feel better?”
Levi.EXE has stopped working 
Red in the face, sweating buckets, heartbeat in his ears
“Uh…Haha! That’s a funny joke, player two! Haha..hah…wait, are you serious?!”
“If you don’t want to, Levi—“
“NO! I-I mean—no, I want to!” 
He’ll try to focus on his game at first, but he gives in so easily 
By the end of it his controller will be discarded on the floor while he whines into the crook of your neck 
Satan 
He was reading a book in his room when you came in 
He immediately sensed something was off, even before you flopped face first down onto his bed with a groan 
”What’s the matter, dear?”
”Today was awful…” 
“Aw, I’m sorry, love. Can I help?” 
You didn’t reply at first as you snuggled up next to him, making him chuckle under his breath. 
“Mm…can I ride you until I feel better?” 
He’s taken aback by the request at first, wondering for a moment if you really said that, but once he processes the words he merely gives you a smile 
“Is that what you need, dear?” He coos as he pulls you in close. 
“Alright then, come on, I’m all yours.” 
Asmodeus
He was doing his makeup when you entered his room, and he saw you behind him in the mirror 
“Oh hello, sweetheart! Finally back, I see. Hey, what’s with the face? Frowning will give you wrinkles!” 
He got up to wrap you in a hug, stroking your hair and inquiring about your problem
“I had a bad day…”
“Aww, baby, c’mere.”
He leads you to the bed and is already sitting you on his lap
Just when you go to ask him, he beats you to the punch 
Thats the best thing about dating Asmo; he always knows exactly what you need
“Wanna ride me? It’ll make you feel better.”
Your answer is a resounding yes 
And Asmodeus isn’t stopping until you’ve forgotten all your worries
Beelzebub 
He was munching on whatever he dug out of the fridge when you came into he and Belphie’s shared room 
Luckily Belphie was out at the time—probably napping in the living room or the attic—which meant you could be alone with your boyfriend 
“Today was terrible, Beel…” 
“Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna bite?” 
It was a poor attempt at comfort, but the fact that he was trying made you smile 
“No thank you, Beel. I want something else…” 
He had just shoved the rest of his snack into his mouth when you climbed on top of him 
“Can I ride you until I feel better?” 
He almost choked 
But when he realized you were serious, he couldn’t refuse 
“If that’s what you want, but…why not let me do the work? It’ll help you relax more, I think.” 
Belphegor 
He was roused from his nap when he heard you coming up the attic stairs 
Normally he would sleep through the noise, but for some reason you always managed to wake him 
“Belphie, are you asleep?” You whispered as you creaked the door open 
He was, in fact, not asleep 
“What’s up?” 
“I…had a bad day today…” 
That was all the explanation he needed before he was making room for you to lay beside him
You snuggled in close, letting him wrap his arms around you before you whispered your request in his ear
“Belphie, can I ride you until I feel better?” 
Belphegor loves when you ride him; he doesn’t have to do any work! He’s totally on board 
He’s not doing anything more than he already is besides turning over onto his back though 
Don’t worry, he’ll still get the job done 
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sixosix · 8 months
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can you do an aether x reader lil one shot please!!! my baby gets no love ;( I'm fine with any story or plot but maybe one where they've been travel buddies for a while and his feelings have just been bottled up over time and he just explodes in to a confession and then some cute fluff from there!!!!!!
a/n wc 1.6k there are tears in my eyes as i write this i love aether sonmuch. also sorry if this is all over the place i was trying so hard not to turn it into another 10k word fic…. ft. lyney
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aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment his feelings blossomed. there was no pinpointed moment, only all of it growing restless inside him.
he likes to keep his team to four people maximum, oftentimes none at all—just him and paimon to worry about as they move from region to region, friends made yet no proper strings attached. it’s for everyone’s sake, as aether doesn’t plan on staying too long in one place. that’s how it should’ve been.
you appeared one day, demanding to take you in his team. just for liyue and then you can separate ways, you said.
“i’m visiting my awfully quiet lover to break his silence. i need to figure out why i’ve stopped receiving letters,” you explained, blinding him with your bigger-than-life personality.
and because aether is a weak, weak man to people who don’t know how to back down, he agreed, albeit hesitantly. “alright,” he said in defeat. “just liyue?”
“just liyue,” you affirmed, beaming as he’s accepted you probably easier than you expected.
just liyue is a lie, and he should’ve known it the moment he had to confirm it. he didn’t bother with formal introductions and keeping conversations, knowing he wouldn’t see you again anyway. it didn’t help that paimon adores you, expressing her loud disappointment when you have to part ways with them.
paimon floated lower than usual. aether sighed. “should’ve known you’d grow to love someone who spoils you with sweet madame more than me.”
“hmph! y/n’s nicer to paimon than you!”
but he does see you again some time later, facing a large tree, kicking it out of frustration. it’s pouring heavily; your clothes are soaked.
“am i scary?” you asked when aether and paimon approached you, staring ahead, fists trembling.
“what’s wrong?! did something bad happen?” paimon fluttered around you nervously, unsure if she could touch you.
“he’s not dead, at least,” you said bitterly. “just too cowardly to tell me that he doesn’t love me anymore. i suppose it was better breaking up face-to-face than through letters.” you sighed bitterly, shoulders hiked up to your ears as a fresh wave of quiet tears washed over you, muted by the rain. “this is embarrassing, getting dumped because i was too much.”
“it’s not. you came all the way from mondstadt just to see him. didn’t he at least care about that?” aether asked, which might’ve just been his longest sentence yet. why were you out here soaking? if it were him, he wouldn’t have been so rude to leave you astray during a thunderstorm.
“i can’t force him, if he doesn’t want to see me. i’ll be alright, i promise.” you rest your forehead against the bark of the tree, water sliding off your cheeks—aether isn’t sure if it’s the rain or your tears.
he understands, possibly more than anyone.
and aether—still a weak, weak man when it came to people breaking down in front of him, knowing what it’s like to lose someone so dear to you—gently says, “xiangling told us there’s an event holding place here later. you’re coming with us.”
just liyue was already a warning in itself that it would never be just as that.
you weave yourself in his life as if you were always there, fitting in like you haven’t met him and paimon just a few days ago. he tries to convince himself that he’s doing this to cheer you up, but you’ve been making him smile more than they do to you.
he would turn to his side and see you feeding him a chicken-mushroom skewer after a short battle, insisting even when aether says he’s not as injured as you may think. he would turn to his side and see you and paimon laughing over something he missed and find himself grinning as well.
he would turn to his side when you tug on his sleeve, shyly asking if he’s willing to take you to inazuma as well because you didn’t want to stay in liyue if they weren’t here anymore.
“sure,” aether would say. he’s a weak man, and you were holding on to his cape, looking so adorable that aether wanted to melt on the spot. but that’s a normal reaction to cute things, probably.
taking you to inazuma turns into bringing you along to sumeru, then eventually fontaine, until everyone is convinced you’re a staple in aether’s adventures: aether, paimon, and y/n.
this is what it’s like to have a good team, aether persuades himself. a good team, a useful asset, aether reminds himself sternly as you slice a ruin cruiser off of existence with fierce anger in your eyes and a stick of tricolor dango in your mouth. you wave at him after, beaming, and his heart does something weird.
and now, when some of his friends suggest that he lays you off even just for a day so he can have three other people who work together seamlessly with him, he dismisses it quickly—without thinking. he already works best with you by his side. if they want to come along with him, they have to accept they’re coming along with you just as well.
“thanks for letting me join you,” you whisper one night, lying on the grass and watching the stars with him. you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling softly.
“of course,” aether says. of course, because now he can’t imagine what it’s like to not have you with him. “i’m the only one who can handle how scary you are.”
you scoff, gently punching his arm as he laughs. “shut up, idiot. you know what i mean.”
i know, aether wants to say. but would that be too much? aether doesn’t want you to think he’s trying to replace someone important in your life this quickly.
you are scary. you’re terrifying him with all these unwanted feelings he doesn’t know what to do with. but aether wasn’t lying, either—he can handle fear just as well.
and now, as aether watches lyney grin and kiss the back of your palm, aether’s chest burns with something unpleasant, sitting in his stomach and urging him to take action. a rock under his shoe. he does not like it, not one bit.
“uhh,” paimon shifts nervously mid-air. “paimon thinks you should stop glaring daggers into lyney before he notices.”
“glaring daggers? i’m not glaring daggers,” aether hisses. his fingers are starting to ache with how painfully he’s clutching his sword. “no daggers here…” he curses as he watches you grow increasingly flustered.
the sight startles him. not your expression, not lyney’s clear provocation, but aether’s stance towards it.
“i thought we’re friends with lyney again?” paimon asks, terribly confused.
“the best of friends,” aether says, marching over to the scene. paimon makes a disbelieving noise.
lyney smirks knowingly as aether gently tugs on your arm. “oh,” lyney says, all sly, more of a fox than a cat, “i didn’t know you were already spoken for. i do apologize for the misunderstanding.”
you glance between an amused lyney and an irked aether, dazed. “i’m not…?”
“your jealous boyfriend says otherwise,” lyney snorts as aether bristles.
aether glares heatedly at lyney, even as the latter backs away with a smug grin. “y/n, let’s go. there’s nothing else to do here.” he’s being rude. he doesn’t care. his mind is blank—or maybe it’s running miles per minute, and he struggles to keep up.
and because you always listen to aether, you let him drag you off, nearly failing to wave goodbye to a chuckling lyney. lyney calls for paimon, distracting her as aether continues walking away from the scene.
you turn to aether, barely able to keep up with his hurried steps. “whoa, whoa, hey, aether—aether, are you okay? your face is so red.” you touch his cheek, and he crumbles. “aether.”
he halts, frowning at the ground. frustrated.
“aether, is there something wrong?”
that’s the thing. aether doesn’t know what’s wrong. he was content with watching you from afar—content with your stars slowly aligning with his as he stands back and watches it happen. he was content with not doing anything about it. but not doing anything about it would mean everyone else thinks you haven’t got aether wrapped around your finger.
“sorry,” aether says. to the painful beating of his heart, restless with unexplained fury. “i didn’t—”
“…idiot.” you always tell him that. you’re the only one who calls him that, but he knows that were they to try, he wouldn’t let it slide so easily. “it’s okay to admit you’re jealous. it’s cute.”
it is not lyney’s flirtations that tip aether over; it’s the sweet smile you give him, the gentleness of your gaze, and your face so close to aether’s that you and him share the same breath. what tips him over is all of it crashing down on him, as daunting as a fight, as abrupt as the beat of his heart:
oh. oh. is that it?
aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment you wormed your way in. maybe it was the moment you jumped down from a tree branch and scared the wits out of paimon, only to demand nervously he take you. maybe it was the moment he softens when your shoulders shake and rain pours relentlessly overhead. maybe it was the stab of jealousy seeing someone else try to steal you away from him when you so obviously belong to him as he belongs to you.
it doesn’t matter.
“i want you,” aether says, then blinks when you do a startled take. “no—no. i mean. i… like you. and i want you to stay. here. not with them. not anyone else.”
“stay right in front of you?”
“in front, beside—doesn’t matter.” aether grows weak, limp as he presses his forehead against yours. “i just want you.”
“okay,” you smile, tipping your chin to kiss his cheek. his heart soars. “that’s all i needed to hear.”
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kooktrash · 8 months
Text
make a wish | jeon jungkook [ birthday drabble ]
DRABBLE FOR: ROMANTIC DREAMS but you don’t have to read it, this drabble can stand alone
summary: hours before his birthday, his friends force him to come out for a night of drinks only for him to be mad the entire time that you’re ignoring him. he comes home early worried you might’ve left but what he saw instead made his birthday all the better when the clock strikes midnight.
warnings: smut. birthday sex. jk is at the club but misses oc lol. 3.8k words
The feeling he got anytime he came out for drinks with his friends never changed. It always felt suffocating to him from the crowds of drunk people all against each other to the overly loud music he couldn’t even pay attention to. It was overwhelming, to say the least.He hated the looks he got and the way people tried to talk to him. He hated how loud his friends were and how they felt the need to bring him up to complete strangers like any of it matter. It’s his birthday weekend, you wanted him to celebrate with all of his friends and yet he couldn’t care less about any of that. He was more interested in finding out why you weren’t here tonight and why you weren’t answering your phone.
“Come on man, just one drink and then you’re free to crawl back to Y/n,” Jin joked as he patted the guy on the back, “But we want to hang out with you for your birthday at least once.”
“Y/n’s not answering the phone,” Jungkook warned as he was led to the bar, “So I’m probably just gonna head out.”
“Dude, Y/n’s not a kid, you don’t have to watch her every five seconds,” Namjoon asked, “Don’t get me wrong, wanting to spend time with your girlfriend is the bare minimum but don’t you think you go overboard sometimes? It would not kill you to be away from her for one night.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything, his gaze hardened as he eyed his friend closely. Namjoon just shrugged despite how blunt he sounded and that only seemed to annoy Jungkook more. Who was he to say that?
Jungkook does not go overboard, alright?
He trusts you… of course he does… but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still think about you leaving him. Something in his gut tells him that if you ever try to break up with him you won’t tell him, you’ll just leave and he’ll have no clue where you went.
He thinks you’ve finally grown to love him almost as much as he loves you but he just can’t get over the amount of times you told him you were done. The amount of times he’s had to remind you you’re not going anywhere and neither is he.
He’s gotten better too, he no longer has cameras set up and maybe that’s why he always feels so anxious when you don’t answer. All he’s got is your location so he knows you’re at home, so why won’t you answer his texts?
“Kook?” Namjoon called out to him as he stood at the bar as if he hadn’t just yelled at him, “What do you want to drink?”
“Jungkook?”
He yelled at his friend to get him anything, hearing the call of his name but not bothering to turn and acknowledge it. A small poke on his arm made him take a deep breath and turn to whoever was trying to catch his attention.
“It is you,” She said softly, “Oh my god, it’s been so long. W-y-you just stopped talking to me.”
“Do I know you?” Jungkook looked down unimportant. He actually did have a small recollection of her. They met over a year ago and hooked up a couple times but that was it. He was horny and she was easy.
She looked taken back, “Yeah. You do, asshole.”
He didn’t respond to her, simply glanced down at her angry expression and scoffed as he looked to his friends. They were all busy buying drinks and Jungkook did not care about any of that. He’s been with them since he got off work. They didn’t even let him go home to see you and tell you to go out for drinks. They showed up at the shop, hurried him to close and dragged him to the closest bar. He’s tired of it all. His birthday is tonight and the person he wants to spend it with isn’t answering their damn phone and he’s just starting to get pissed off.
“Okay, here’s yo—“
“I’m leaving,” Jungkook told Namjoon, handing him back the drink, “I’m tired and we’ve been out for hours already. I want to go home.”
Namjoon checked the time biting his lip, he was supposed to stall Jungkook from getting home per your orders and it’s been difficult all night to keep him from running to you. He’s never seen his friend so… in love [?], is that the right word for it? His need to know where you are, why you aren’t talking to him, who you’re with, was intense. Namjoon just knows Jungkook is at his limit with you ignoring him. All he could do was nod his head and give up, “Alright, can you drive?”
Jungkook only had one drink and even then he didn’t finish it before they tried getting him another so he felt fine. He was just bothered that you’ve yet to reach out to him.
He made an attempt to call you, one last time, as he got in his car but like before you didn’t answer and he can feel his patience running extremely thin. Why weren’t you answering him?
The first thing Jungkook noticed when he got back to your shared apartment was how dark it was. Usually [especially now that he’s made the place his own now], the apartment had a dark aura to it. It probably had to do with the mixed decor the two of you had up like his black sketches of skulls and serpents next to your framed photographs of Baby’s Breath and lavender. He’s used to it by now but right now… it’s too quiet…
“Y/n?” Jungkook called out and you could hear the growing annoyed panic in his voice. He dropped his things from work down to the ground without any care. He hasn’t seen you since before he went to the tattoo shop in the morning and now it’s almost midnight and you’re nowhere to be seen.
As Jungkook turned down the hallway, he seemed to freeze. Just below his feet where he hadn’t noticed them before, laid a trail of black rose petals. He followed them with his gaze seeing them disappear under the closed bedroom door where he could see a hue of red lighting inside. With a curious tilt of his head, he walked along the petals, twisting the knob on the door and immediately feeling his heart race.
Your bedroom which had become a concoction of gothic knickknacks and floral patterns, was a deep shade of red. His vinyl played one of his favorite Deftones songs, Mascara, and there you were.
He stopped at the door, eyes taking in the sight around him but all he could do was look down at you surrounded by candles littered across the room and music playing softly to set the mood and suddenly he wasn’t angry anymore. You had been ignoring him all night and that drew him insane but seeing you laying in bed wearing nothing but a black lace lingerie set made him forget all about that anger.
“So this is why you weren’t answering my calls?” Jungkook asked despite feeling giddy inside from all of this. Your lingerie was thin and fitted, it hugged you in all the right places and you looked so inviting with your legs slightly spread open for him, laying in a petal of black roses. You didn’t say anything, only lifted a single finger toward him and motioned for him to move closer.
Your boyfriend was never much for the theatrics, he liked doing it too much to wait, so you weren’t surprised at all when he reached for the back of his black shirt and yanked off over his head exposing his muscles, torso and nipple piercings. His tattooed hands unzipped the front of his black jeans and kicked them off immediately before walking toward the bed with a dark look in his eyes.
“I wanted to surprise you,” you said sitting up a little when he brought a hand to the back of your neck after crawling over your body to kiss you, “But you’re always so impatient.”
“You were ignoring me,” Jungkook whispered against your lips as he sighed softly into the kiss, “I don’t like when you ignore me.”
“So you’re not happy with the surprise?” You asked despite knowing the answer. Jungkook has only just now gotten undressed and you can already see the growing bulge in his Calvin Klein’s. Jungkook looked down at your pliant body laying pretty underneath him, unable to help himself from dragging his index finger over the tip of your nipples that peaked through the sheer fabric, “I love it, just dlike nt ignore my texts again, okay?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even as he kissed along your neck lovingly, his teeth softly nipped at the skin until his tongue was running over the marks soothingly. He was already on top of you trying to control the situation and you put a hand on his chest to move him off. His brows furrowed as you began to say up forcing him to do the same, “Why don’t you lay down and let me take the lead for once, yeah?”
“Bab—“ his words died down when your finger tugged at one the bar piercing on his nipple. He looked down watching your finger circle around it teasingly scratching against him and he was folding. Now that Jungkook had relaxed a little, you took the chance to move him to lie on his back, straddling hips as his hands found your waist to hold you there. He set you down directly over his hardening length, letting you slide against it for a moment’s worth of friction. Jungkook always got so easily turned on when it came to you. He could be at work doing a tattoo on someone and suddenly he’ll remember what the two of you did the night before, how he fucked you on the kitchen counter or ate your pushy in the bathtub. Sometimes it didn’t even have to be about sex. He would think about seeing you fresh out the shower or wearing a shirt of his and nothing underneath.
“Y/n,” Jungkook sighed once he felt you lean down for a kiss. It was an open mouth kiss with your tongue pushing into his sloppily the way he liked it, your hands scratching down his ribbed sides feeling every muscle in their path. When you pulled your lips away from his, a line of drool connected your mouths and dribbled down to his chin when you kissed along his jaw. Jungkook’s hands couldn’t sit still, they needed to feel all of you. Your lingerie bottoms were nothing but a lacy thin thong that left little to the imagination but looked good nevertheless. He slid his hands over your butt, big hands pinching and helping any part of you that he could, occasionally making your covered cored grind against his dick. A low moan left his lips when you sucked on his neck leaving a trail of love bites in your wake, moving down to his collarbone and chest.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” you said teasingly as you lucked over his abused nipple that you had been tugging on. Jungkook’s breath hitched when you circled it with your tongue, sucking softly and nipping at the metal with your teeth.
“Always,” Jungkook sighed, squirming a bit as you kissed between his abs down toward his navel, fingers already sinking into the hem of his briefs, “You always make me feel good.”
“Mhm,” you hummed in content, sliding yourself off his lap until you sat perfectly between his spread, muscular thighs, “You always make me feel good too, baby.”
It’s true too. He’s your boyfriend for fucks sake, even if you used to resent him for being the way he was then; there’s no point in still feeling that way when you really do love him—whether it be healthy or not is still up for debate.
Jungkook tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, playing with his lip ring as you yanked his briefs down with a bit of force that had him groaning at the toughness. He’s not used to you taking the initiative, maybe you’ve done it once or twice but never dressed like this in a red and black room made for sex.
You looked down at his length, not surprised at all by the sight of it. Jungkook was hard, his dick was thick and flat against his navel, throbbing under your stare. It twitched like it wanted to point upward but he wasn’t there yet. He needed a little more attention still.
You placed your hands on his thighs for support as you leaned forward to be face to face with his cock, pursing your lips like you were gonna kiss it before blowing air. Jungkook had to rest on his elbows to be able to sit up enough to see what you were doing, just barely catching the sight of you reaching further down and flattening your tongue against his balls teasingly until you licked the underside of his cock too. Immediately his arms gave way and he was laying back down on the bed, eyes squeezed shut.
You wrapped a hand around his base, angling his cock to point upward before running your tongue along the side once more like he was a melting ice pop. You could see his lip pulled between his teeth and his eyes screwed shut in anticipation making you smirk. Jungkook always knew how to make you feel good and it was a boost to your ego to know that you too knew what made your boyfriend feel good. As his cock stood straight now, you licked along his tip, circling around the head and feeling him throb in your first when you sucked softly against his slit that produced precum.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned as he let his head fall back against rhe pillows with his hands tucked under his neck, hips raising with need to meet your mouth and make you take his cock down your throat. You grinned at the disheveled sight of your boyfriend that was caused by a little teasing and lowered your head starting back down over his balls where you knew he liked to feel your tongue first. Jungkook liked things sloppy, a bit rough and nasty. He loved having his balls played with, feeling your tongue swipe along them, sucking one into your mouth and tugging while fisting his cock. It’s exactly what you did tonight, you paid extra attention to his balls feeling his thighs tighten around you when you began to stroke his dick.
Jungkook was in ecstasy, his cock no longer needed your hand to make him stand straight, he was hard enough to do it on its own and you dug your nails into his thighs when you finally began to take him all into your mouth. A loud moan left his lips at the warm sensation of your spit coating his member, making it easier to slide him into your mouth. He could feel you try and relax your throat all around him and although the wanted to let you take your time, he was so fucking horny. He couldn’t help but buck his hips up, forcing you to take more and more of him at a quicker pace.
You shook your head no, cock in your mouth and a hand flat against his pelvis to hold him down, “Just relax, baby, I got this.”
He huffed impatiently, nodding his head as he tried to calm down, lips parting in surprise when you took him all in one go. If your mouth wasn’t full with his dick, you would’ve been smiling at the way he so easily turned to mush underneath you. You wasted no time in teasing him anymore, bobbing your head up and down while your fist strokes whatever didn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand was fondling his balls avain, squeezing them, massaging them, rubbing them against each other as you made obscene noises with your throat as you fucked him into your mouth. Jungkook’s hands closed in tight fists over the bed sheets, body caving in with how good your mouth felt on him and he was so damn close, “Fucking hell, baby, fuck.”
You could tell he was close by the way he became restless, thighs clenching and unclenching, chest rising and lowering with jagged and fast paced breath, lips drawn apart with moan after moan and it only made you double your efforts. You got rougher, faster, sloppier.
It got to the point where Jungkook had a closed fist over his eyes trying not to overwhelm himself with how good you were making him feel but it had become too much. He couldn’t take it anymore, “Okay, Y/n, there, I’m gonna cum. Come on, need to feel you—oh fuck, baby.”
His head fall back with a loud moan, spurts of thick cum coating the inside of your mouth so suddenly even you were surprised by the amount. Jungkook’s body writhed on the bed, large muscular body twitching with pleasure as he came down your throat. You gagged at the intensity, pulling your mouth away and watching it coat his own dick in it, still softly jerking him off through his orgasm.
“You okay?” You asked lovingly, stroking him as you looked down at the mess you’ve made of him. Jungkook’s eyes were a deep red that made his gaze look darker under the LED lights. His lips looked swollen and cum was all over his pelvis but he was still rock hard.
“Y/n,” his voice grew hoarse, “Need you to sit on dick, right now.”
You smiled, laughing softly as you looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 11:59pm.
“Birthday boy wants to cum in my pussy?” You asked surprisingly. The two of you rarely had sex without a condom but you were on birth control and it was his birthday… your boyfriend deserved this. As crazy as he was, he loved you and you… well, you loved him too or else why would you have stuck around? And right now, you were too turned on to care about the consequences.
Jungkook didn’t have to say anything to have you lining his cock work your wet pussy as you slid the lingerie to the side so it wasn’t in the way. As much as Jungkook loved the way it looked on you, he needed it completely off of you.
His rough fingers tugged at the seams, easily tearing it apart as you pressed his thick head between your folds. You gasped in surprise at how easily he tore threw the fabric, yanking roughly until it was in his hands and on the floor, “Baby… I’m trying to be sexy here.”
“You’re always sexy,” Jungkook said not caring about the lingerie as his hands found your hips, lowering you down his length himself, “But I like you better with nothing on.”
“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgement, a small moan leaving your lips as this thick head finally made it past your broken hymen making the slide of the rest of his cock that much easier. Your hands fell flat against his chest for support as your feet pushed against the bed to help you raise your hips, his hands guiding you to bring them back down. It started off slowly, you began riding him teasingly only lifting yourself up a little, grinding your hips against his and doing it all over again.
Jungkook was fine with the pace as he took in the sight of your pretty tits in his face and he couldn’t help but move his hands to grope them, thumbs brushing over your nipples as his hips began to thrust up into yours making the slow ducking a little rougher.
“Jungkook,” you moaned softly as his thick length hit that special spot at the top, rubbing against your open folds and pleasuring you so well you almost forgot this was for him and not for you. He was at the point where he didn’t care about who was supposed to be making who feel good. Anything you did to him felt good and without a care in the world he pulled you down to lay on his chest, your face against his neck as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck you from below. Your body bounced against his and with an arm tight around your lower waist and the other groping your ass, he was fully taking control to bring you to your first orgasm of the night.
“Feels good, baby?” He asked in a low whisper into your ear, cock working in and out of your tight pussy. You nodded your head, kissing his neck between moans as your cunt tightened around him, “So good.”
Jungkook took the lead with ease, grinding you against his aching member, so close to release once more. The clock had strikes midnight time ago and his phone was being flooded with birthday messages but he was too busy to care. All he had wanted for his birthday was to spend it with you and his patience had paid off.
He came home to you dressed so fucking sexy for him and with a promise that he could cum inside and that alone was bringing him closer and closer to his second orgasm, not worried about finishing too soon when he knew this wouldn’t be the last round.
Your teeth nipped are his neck, nails scratching along his nipples as you tightened around him once more, “Jun—babe, I can’t… fuck, please.”
“Cum for me, do it baby,” Jungkook urged you on, lifting a hand only to bring it back down hard on your ass hearing you squeal at the slight sting but your walls tightened all the same. His cock was reaching deep into your count every time you took him all in and all it took was one final spank, for your orgasm to hit. You released a loud moan into his ear, hearing him grunt as you clenched around and finally you felt the warmth of his release flood your insides for the first time ever.
He was left breathless, cock coated in both your arousals as you pulled yourself off of him and you both watch his release mixed with yours dribble down your legs, immediately turning him on once more. You looked up at him, smile on your face from how good your boyfriend looked after sex. You checked the time once more, hearing his phone buzz and you ran a soothing hand over his thigh and pulling some stray black petals off of him, “I’m gonna get a bath going, how does that sound, birthday boy?”
Jungkook smirked, “Sounds good.”
“Okay, I’ll be back, why don’t you start responding to everyone,” you told him with a wink. When you left and he looked down at his phone, a small laugh left his lips.
joon:i hope whatever surprise y/n did for u was good bc u were a bitch to keep distracted
joon: happy birthday
joon: don’t have too much fun with your girl
::.
ugh everytime I tell myself I’m tired of romantic dreams Jungkook I just come back 😭anyways little bday drabble on KooK’s bday 🥺HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY
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slttygeto · 8 months
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SOMETHING I’M MADE FOR
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what was i made for? | think i forgot, how to be happy
જ⁀➴ synopsis: you owe suguru a lot. a heartfelt apology is one of them.
જ⁀➴ c.w: hurt/comfort, fem bodied! reader, very unrealistic timelines, i have never taken a 'break' while in a relationship so pls dont come for me, reader is mentioned to being depressed at one point, suguru is going through it, second chance sort of.
જ⁀➴ word count; 1,4k
જ⁀➴ note: idk how to feel abt this tbh
comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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There was no need for you to feel this nervous, but given the amount of times you’ve wiped your hand on the fabric of your skirt that would sound a bit ridiculous. You were nervous, and rightfully so. You stand in front of the same door that you used to have the keys to, a very familiar red wooden door with the number of the apartment written in gold sitting at the very top, you raise your hand and your knuckles collider with the wood one, two and then three times before you’re taking two steps behind out of respect and privacy for your… well, you didn’t know what to refer to Suguru in this case.
You try not to overthink it, you came here with good intentions. Over the four weeks with almost contact with the man except for the occasional text messages here and there, you’ve come to realize a couple of things. First, you needed to apologize to him. Four weeks isn’t enough for you to heal completely from the damage caused from feeling so low in a long term relationship, but it was enough time to reflect on how you behaved that night with him. Some of his words might’ve hurt you, but you later on figured that it was because he was right, as bad as it sounds.
And second, you were ready to let go of him if staying with you was draining him. You knew that Suguru would never tell you something like that—he might’ve been blunt with strangers, but the man had such a soft spot and a sweet side with his loved ones. God knows how much he loves you, and how many times he said it. But you were too busy thinking that your problems were burdening him and thus, you didn’t deserve the man.
You hear shuffling from behind the door and when it swings open with and you’re greeted with a Suguru in a lazy attire, you feel your heart get stuck in your throat. You hadn’t told him you were going to show up, but you had texted Satoru earlier the same week to make sure that he was at home. To say that Satoru wanted to kill you was an understatement, the white haired male was very protective of his best friend no matter how dearly you meant to him.
Me
Hey, is suguru gonna be home this week?
Satoru
yeah. he hasn’t been outside in a while. why?
Your heart drops when you read that. Suguru wasn’t the type to stay holed up in his place for too long.
Me
um I thought id give him a visit
Satoru
yeah sure
he’ll appreciate that
You could feel the ice cold stare of his best friend through those messages. Maybe it was a little childish from his part, but after hearing that Suguru was acting unusual, you figured that maybe this time you would gladly take the heat.
You hoped that the person standing in front of you wasn’t any different from the person you abruptly left four weeks ago after a horrible fight, but one quick look at the messy hair and the sleep deprivation visible on his face was enough to make your chest burn with guilt. You’re unsure of what to say for a good few seconds, eyes darting behind him only to find the vacuum in the middle of the middle room and groceries on the counter. It seemed like he was trying to get life back together, did you really decide to pop at the wrong moment?
“Do you need something?” the way he breaks the silence is almost bone chilling and you find yourself smiling nervously at him before holding up bags of food to show him that you got him his favorite. But he doesn’t budge, emotionless eyes darting all over your face in what you assumed to be an attempt at making you feel small. And boy, it was working.
You feel stupid and drop the bags of food in front of him before taking a few steps back.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?” Suguru knows what you want to talk about.
“About u-“
“About us?” He cuts you off before you can even finish and raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say that you wanted to stop thinking about me for a while?” he continues. “It’s only been a month.”
“A month is more than enough,” you try to reason. “We were together for three years, of course-“
“Should’ve told yourself that when you left me.” Suguru retorts venomously and you start getting the clear picture. While being away from him made you realize how toxic you were behaving towards him, you being out of his life brought out his worst side. You knew this Suguru—he was spiteful, filled with hatred and didn’t hesitate to cut anyone with his words.
“Suguru,” you try again. “Let me come in.” You see him bite back another snarky response and he complies, letting you walk inside.
Once the bags of food are inside and you see him close the door, you hesitate on where to sit. The kitchen seemed to bring back bad memories, so you choose the couch that you both picked when you first moved in here and you watch as he sits on the other side, a little grunt leaving his lips as he leans back and stares at you.
“Seems like you’ve been doing well,” he points out. “I forgot what happy you looked like.”
You squirm a little under his intense gaze, the way his eyes travel from your bare legs up to your upper half then your face. You were used to Suguru’s loving stare, he always looked at you like you meant the entire world to him—but right now? You felt like he could eat you up and spit you out with his eyes.
“I’ve been, um…” You pause and place one leg on top of the other. “Reflecting on how I behaved in our relationship.” You admit and look around the place. He still managed to keep it neat.
“It was wrong of me to explode on you that night, and to keep so many things from you—it doesn’t undo the fact that I said what I said, but I just want to apologize.” Suguru’s eyes seem to soften for a split second when you shift again in your seat.
“For what?” he asks flatly but the way his body relaxes on the couch indicates that he means no harm. “For possibly being depressed when you were with me?”
“No,” you avoid looking at him. “It wasn’t because I was with you it’s because-“
“That’s not what you said that night,” he cuts you off. “I am so perfect and my life is so perfect that being with someone like me made you feel too guilty to tell me about your problems.” He continues before leaning forward, placing both of his elbows on his knees. “My face…apparently, that was also a reason for you not to tell me about your problems.”
“I was wrong,” you start growing a little nervous. “You weren’t the problem, and I’m here to tell you that I am deeply sorry for what happened that night, even if it was needed.”
Suguru is quiet for a few moments, he is in deep thought before he decides to speak up again.
“You know, a month isn’t enough to fall out of love with a person you pictured your future with,” he starts. “But it sure is enough time for you to resent them a little. You’re hurt and confused, everything was going well, or so you thought,”
“Suguru…”
“I thought that maybe I didn’t want to think about you too, that I was doing so much better without you but-“ the dry chuckle makes your heart squeeze. “As you can see, it’s clearly not the case.”
“We don’t have to get back together right now,”  your voice is soft and the way you’re trying to make yourself look small on his couch tugs at Suguru’s heart strings.
“I don’t think it’s that easy either,” he admits. “After all, I still do resent you a little.” His honesty is both relieving and hurtful. A part of you knows that it’s a long and difficult process, but if there was any person actually worth fighting for in your life, it was Suguru. “But…” you raise your head when you hear him speak up.
“I think we could try.”
And through tearful eyes and shared hopeful smiles, you are finally able to breathe again.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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bvbygrl-writes · 5 months
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Wrong House
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Pairing: Stu Macher x Nerdy!Reader x Billy Loomis
Word Count: 3.2k
Summary: A step into wrong house leads to a night of the right fun.
A/N: I was not supposed to upload this tonight but I'm too excited about it. I'm not proof reading this long ass shit either so if something is spelled wrong use your imagination to fix it, mwuah! <3
Warnings: reader has afab anatomy breaking and entering, knife play, homoerotic themes (they kiss but nothing more than that), mentions of murder, eiffel towering, loss of virginity, coercion and ultimatums, rope bandage, panty kink, and panty sniffing.
THIS FIC IS 18+!!! MINORS / ACCOUNTS WITHOUT AGE DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED WITH NO WARNING BUT THIS ONE.
(Y/n) was naturally an anxious girl but, with her parents out of town and the string of murders happening, she was on edge. She had every single light on in the house, the downstairs tv on, anything to make it seem as though the house was full of life. The reporters on the radio had told people to stay together and while most of the students in school had that option, she didn’t. Nobody wanted to be friends with the quiet girl who still wore Care Bear sweaters and could recite Star Trek lines from memory.
Nibbling the end of her pencil, she let out an exasperated sigh. She had been staring at the same math problem in her textbook for a good 45 minutes. “Focus, (Y/n/n), focus. If you do end up living through all of this, you’ll want to get into a good college.If you fail, mom and dad will make you wish you were dead.” she said out loud to herself, a sad laugh falling from her lips. At that same moment, her stomach began to grumble. When was the last time she ate? Reaching for the phone, she dialed the number to her favorite chinese food place. She loved it because the food was cheap and they were one of the only places that delivered something other than pizza after 10PM. 
“Alright, thank you!” she said, placing the phone back on the receiver. It’d be about a 20 minute wait, giving her time to focus more on her work. Sighing she sat back down in front of her textbook, staring at the page until the numbers started to blur together. “Well, that’s enough of that! I should get the money for the delivery driver seeing as it’ll be here in…” glancing at the clock on her wall she sighed, “Twenty minutes.” ignoring that face, she stood up, bunny slippers stomping over the carpeted floor to the piggy bank on her dresser. She pulled out a 10 dollar bill along with a 5 for the tip. But before (Y/n) could even get to her door, she heard a noise at the front door. 
“Th-that’s weird. There’s still nineteen minutes an-” she shrieked at the sound of the door bursting open. Every anxiety filled thought she had had since being home by herself was coming true. The blood drained from her face, her body growing light at the sound of the voices coming from the living room. Tears began to form in the corner of her eyes as she turned off the lights and closed her bedroom door. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs put in perspective just how real this all was. She silently cursed her dad for never fixing the damn lock on her window. She might’ve broken a few bones from jumping, but that’d be better than being completely dead! Looking around her room she made the decision to jump in her closet, closing the accordion door.
She became aware of how loudly she was breathing, clamping her hands over her mouth. Her body trembled with terror. ‘Is this how I die? Alone, never experiencing friendship or love?’ Was this really the time to be feeling sorry for her lack of social and love life? ‘Well to be fair, this may be one of the last times I’m able to feel anything whatsoever.’ The sound of her bedroom door opening instantly made her mind go blank. The girl felt as though she was having a heart attack and honestly? She would have preferred that to whatever death she was about to experience.
“Are you sure this is the right house? This doesn’t look like Chelsea’s room.” A male’s voice remarked, the lights flicking on. She could see through the small slots on the folding door that there were two men. One had dark hair and a knife in his hand. The other one was taller with blonde hair and a backpack with god knows what inside of it.
“Yeah, dude! This is 345 Avalee Lane.” the other one exclaimed, an almost sinister grin on his face. The dark hair one made a sound that was a mix of a growl and a sigh.
“You fucking idiot! Chelsea lives in 348, we’re in the wrong house!” he pinched the bridge of his nose, kicking over the little trash can near her desk across the room. (Y/n) relaxed a bit. Maybe since they weren’t looking for her they’d just leave?
“Well at least no one’s home, we can just get out of here.” The blonde one rasped out, eating a piece of candy off of her dresser before tossing the wrapper on the ground. ‘Rude’ she thought.
“The lights and the tv were on. Someone’s definitely in this house. I’m going to go check the other rooms and you look around this one a bit better. We can’t take any chances.” The brunette exited the room and in the distance he heard the sound of different doors being opened. 
The blonde one began to hum, snooping around her room. He walked over to her dresser, opening up her panty drawer. A smile grew on his face as he held up a pair of white ones with a pink lace trim, shoving them in the back pocket of his baggy jeans. “Cute.” he said to himself (or so he thought). Walking over to her bed, he tossed the covers back before bending down to check under the bed as well. Next, he walked over to the cupboard of her collectable figurines, opening up the door. “Hm.” he shrugged before beginning to exit the room. She removed her hands from her mouth, placing them on the floor beside her as she let her body relax. However, before he could leave, she could see a lightbulb go off in his brain as he turned around walking towards the closet. The girl’s eyes went wide as she shook her head. As he opened the closet door, she couldn’t even manage to make a sound. A look of surprise made its way onto his face before he began to grin. “You’ve got cute little undies. Hey Billy!”
All (Y/n) could do was sit there in shock. She recognized this boy, he was in her art classes although he rarely showed up. Now that she could really see his face, he was quite attractive. Before she could delve into why she was letting herself think that, the other one (who she assumed was Billy) appeared right next to him. Although he had a scowl on his face, he was just as attractive. ‘Well, you always said you wanted a cute guy to notice you. There’s two! But you should’ve been more specific, huh (Y/n/n)?’ 
“She’s kind of cute in a dorky little way, ain’t she?” Stu commented as Billy used his knife to lift her chin. She didn’t dare stop making eye contact with Billy for fear of what he might do with that knife the second she did. He tilted her face around, examining it from all sorts of angles before he chuckled.
“She is. (Y/n), right? You’re the girl that’s always winning those sciences awards at school. We have AP English together.” he said in a calm tone. This was the strangest thing she had ever experienced. Why were they dragging this on so much when they could just kill her and get it over with?
“M-mmm-mhm!” she stuttered out, nodding her head ever so slightly so she didn’t cut herself on the blade. 
“Although I agree with my friend here, you still find yourself to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. See, I’ve got a plan and if I let you live, there’s a big chance you’re going to blab and ruin it for me.” he said, his words coming out through gritted teeth towards the end. “So unfortunately, your time’s up.”
“No, no please! I-I-I won’t blab and tell! I don’t have any friends or anyone to tell I won’t tell please! I promise!” she sobbed, begging for her life as he pressed the knife against her neck harder. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, which would also explain the sensation happening between her legs. Fat tears continued to stream down her face. “I promise please there’s gotta be a way!” she continued to plead for her life, waiting for something, just anything to happen. Whatever it’d take for this situation to be over. However, she was surprised when the knife suddenly was no longer pressed to her neck. Looking up, she saw the blonde one’s hand had moved it away and he was whispering something into Billy’s ear. Their eyes kept flickering to parts of the room and then back to her before Billy gave a singular nod. 
“It seems my friend Stu here has taken quite a liking to you so here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to have a bit of fun with you and if we enjoy it, you live and we’ll be back to get you after we finish some…business. And if not, I’ll slit your throat right after we finish. Does that sound fair?” Billy said, tugging her from her sitting position to be in between the both of them. She nodded frantically, happy to have even a small chance of living. She knew they were probably going to kill her when they were done, but at least that moment was suspended for a bit longer.
“Wh-what do I need t-to do?” she asked, her heart racing as she looked up at the two of them. They were completely dwarfing her with their size, it was like being trapped between two incredibly hot trees. Stu grinned at her once again before stepping back a bit.
“Well you can start by stripping!” he instructed, phrasing it like a suggestion even though she knew it wasn’t. She nodded, taking off her cream colored sweater, sliding her Power Rangers pajama pants down right after. She began to hesitate slightly as now she was just in her slippers and underwear.
“Allow me.” Billy said, using his knife to snip off her bra. He started at the shoulder straps, taking a moment to stare at her breast before tearing the backband as well. She didn’t try to cover up, knowing her chances of survival would dwindle to none. He went to pull down her panties but Stu stopped him, shaking his head.
“Leave those on her.” he said, before getting down on his knees in front of her. Billy held her arms behind her back with one of his, peeking over the girl’s shoulders to see what his moronic friend had planned. What she didn’t expect was for him to bury his face into her underwear-clad pussy and sniff. Stu let out a low moan as he did, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continued to sniff at her front, his nose nudging her clit through the fabric. “God that’s amazing. Looks like she’s enjoying it too.” he said, rubbing his finger on the wet spot forming on her panties. He gently pressed his fingers against the fabric causing (Y/n) to squirm a bit, a gentle moan falling from her mouth.
“Oh, that’s such a pretty noise.” Billy purrs lowly in her ear. Standing from the floor, Stu lifts his fingers up to Billy’s mouth and without thinking, he opens it. The girl watches in awe, her clit beginning to throb at the way the two men were interacting with one another. Stu slowly pulls his fingers from the man’s mouth, biting his lip as the other man licks his. “Did you want a taste?” he asks in a deep tone. At the same time, they both lean over and begin to share a passionate and heated open mouth kiss. Little moans and grunts fall from them, a gasp falling from her own lips as Stu grips at her waist, beginning to grind against her front, his bulge slotted between her slit. Billy mimics his actions, grinding his cock against her ass. She was glad the two were holding her up, because at the current moment she wasn’t sure if her legs would work. This was a whole new world for her. She had never been kissed or even touched by one man let alone two. The noises falling from her mouth were completely out of her control, the sensation of their rhythmic rubbing along with the scene of them kissing above her was all too much for her to handle. 
As though they could hear her thoughts, they pulled away from their kiss, turning their attention back to her. She hadn’t even realized that the knife was completely gone now. If she wanted to, she could’ve ran and gotten away. If she wanted to. Billy gripped her arms once more, beginning to walk her over to the bed. She felt her face grow warm at the collection of stuffed animals, causing her to look at the ground. “They keep me warm at night.” she defended weakly. Stu laughed, cooing at her before picking one up and turning it to face the wall, repeating the action several times with the other one.
Billy groaned, annoyed. “Seriously?”
“What? I know how the girls get about that sort of thing.” As Stu continued with his antics, the brunette reached for his friend’s bag. (Y/n) eyed him curiously, thinking he had changed his mind on their deal but was relieved when all he pulled out was a bit of rope. Wait, rope? He tossed it up and down smirking at her before positioning himself behind her as he began to tie her hands together. ‘This is better than whatever they usually probably use this for.’ She tugged at the rope, the friction causing a mild irritation from the action. He pushed her a bit, causing her to fall forward onto the bed. Her ass was in the air while the upper part of her body fell down due to having no support. She listened to the sound of belts and pants clambering before feeling the bed dip down behind her. At that same time, a pair of legs kneeled in front of her as well. She felt as a hand carded it’s way through her hair before tightening, lifting her face to be eye level with a cock. Peering up, she saw that it was Billy.
“Are you gonna open up or am I going to have to do it for you?” he asked, causing a bit of panic to flash through the girl’s (e/c) eyes.
“S-sorry. I’ve never done any of this before.” she muttered, causing a whistle from behind her. She could imagine the grin on Stu's face.
“A cute virgin?! How lucky are we tonight? Oh this is going to be fun. I haven’t popped a cherry in quite a long time.” Stu gushed, rubbing his hands together. “I can barely contain myself!” her panties were then pulled to the side, long fingers beginning to rub all along her slick covered folds. She let out a whimper, her knees trembling as he began to rub circles on her clit. As he slid a finger in, her mouth fell open which Billy saw as the perfect opportunity. Gripping her hair a bit tighter, he began to slide his cock into her mouth slowly. He stared down at her face, watching as her mouth began to struggle with the girth of him, tears falling down her face.
“You better stop with all those tears, I really don’t wanna cum this early.” Billy teased, beginning to rock his hips back and forth. He hissed in pleasure at her tight and warm little mouth, tossing his head back as he let out a guttural moan. Behind her, Stu had managed to work the third finger in, stretching and scissoring them around.Gripping her hip with one hand, he used his other to glide his cock along her lips causing them to both moan. “Hurry up, I wanna pick up the pace but I’m trying to make it easier for you.”
“I’m going!” and with that, Stu slid his cock in with one swift motion. His grip on her hips tightened at the same time her walls did as he fell forward for a bit, head resting against the small of her back. “G-god, oh fuck! You’ve got a tight little pussy, huh?” he said through gritted teeth, beginning to pound into her at an almost animalistic pace. Her pussy drooled around his cock as she continued to moan around Billy, choking as he also picked up his pace. Their thrust were alternating. As Stu would pull his cock out some, Billy’s would enter her throat deep, barely giving her a chance to get used to anything. She had already came around his cock twice, the feeling being overwhelmingly pleasurable. 
They were using her like a doll, holding her up and angling her just right. All she could do was sob and take it, the only thing on her mind was their cocks and her life. She didn’t even care if she was going to die after this, this was the best thing she had ever experienced in her life. 
“You look so helpless when you cry. God, Stu I wish you could see her right now.” Billy moaned out, staring down into those wet (e/c) eyes. Picking up his pace, he gripped at her scalp, full on skull fucking her now. His thrust had grown sloppy and so had his counterpart’s. 
“Tr-trust me, my view is just as good. I’m cl-close!” he whined out, reaching a finger down to rub at the girl's sensitive and swollen clit. (Y/n) screamed around Billy’s cock sending him over the edge. Pulling out, he coated her face and hair in a load of sticky white cum. Watching Billy stroke his cock over her face pushed Stu over the edge as well, causing him to bounce her back on his dick, whimpering as he came deep inside of her. 
The room fell silent and as (Y/n) came to her senses, the question of the hour came back to haunt her. Was she going to live?
“Are you satisfied, Stu?”
“More than, man.”
“Well..” Billy trailed off, stepping off of the bed. As Stu pulled out, she felt cold and exposed. Both men stood behind her, staring as the load of cum began to roll down the back of her legs. The brunette reached forward, grabbing her wrist rather roughly before untying her. “I guess you live. We’ll be back. In the meantime, get cleaned up.” the sound of the doorbell ringing caused the two men to look out the window, thinking she had somehow managed to get in contact with help. However, they both relaxed at the sight of the delivery truck on the outside of the house. 
“Make sure you save me some chow mein!” Stu said. The girl rolled over on her back, letting out a breathless laugh watching as the two quickly got dressed. Before they headed for the bedroom door, Stu took her panties off of her, sticking them in the front pocket of his jeans. 
“For good luck!”
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lovebugism · 1 year
Note
could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw
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✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !
summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo
( MASTERLIST )
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Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth. 
He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.
It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.
Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him. 
“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.
You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”
Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.
When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.
Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.
Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.
“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”
Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.
You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”
The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness. 
“…I’m gonna try.”
He was pretty much a goner after that.
The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.
Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.
And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.
He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.
That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.
The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).
And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.
If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.
But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.
So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.
Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”
You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.
Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.
Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.
Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.
Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.
You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”
The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.
He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.
“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”
Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”
“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”
With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.
“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.
He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.
And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.
Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.
Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess. 
“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay, Eds—”
“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”
“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.
“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”
Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”
You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”
He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.
He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”
“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”
“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.
It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”
“Eddie!” you scold.
“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”
“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”
“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”
“Yeah… Okay.”
“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod
Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.
“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”
“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”
He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”
“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”
With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step. 
You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.
Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.
“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”
You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”
“…Really?”
“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.
“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”
A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.
Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.
You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.
“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”
You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.
“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.
“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”
You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side. 
You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.
It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.
Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.
You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace. 
You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.
Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.
You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”
“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.
“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”
“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.
You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell. 
You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.
But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.
Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.
You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch. 
He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe. 
You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.
The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?
Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.
Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you. 
Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.
His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.
He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.
As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.
“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”
“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”
You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.
But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.
“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.
It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.
“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”
“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”
Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.
The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.
He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.
You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.
“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.
“…What?”
“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”
You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different. 
“Better?” you tease.
Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.
You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.
“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.
Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose. 
You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.
You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.
“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”
3K notes · View notes
shardsofmarxx · 3 months
Text
Sleep Well | Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
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Criminal Minds songfic based on/inspired by the song Sleep Well by d4ad. Angst/fluff
Summary: After having an argument with Spencer, you storm to your hotel for the night so you can get some sleep and take your mind off the argument, but you end up having a bad nightmare and you don’t know who else to call… (Told from reader's POV)
Warnings: Nightmares, violence, argument, general CM themes. (Nothing too graphic.)
Word Count: 3.2K
A/N: My first fic!!! I'm so excited to start sharing my writing with you guys, and I really hope you all enjoy this fic! I'm planning on making songfics a regular thing on my blog, so feel free to request any songs you'd like me to write about in my ask box! (As well as any other things you'd like me to write about.)
As you were putting on your bulletproof vest in the conference room, you heard someone open the door. You looked over to see Spencer glaring over at you, his bulletproof vest already on.
“What are you doing?” he asked in an accusatory manner, clearly bothered by something. 
You paused for a few moments, confused and taken aback by his tone. “I’m getting ready to head out with the rest of the team. Is something wrong?”
“What's wrong is that you're getting ready to go to the field when you know you're not supposed to.” 
You let out a small sigh, realizing what this was about. Technically, he was right; you weren't allowed to be back in the field for another few days due to the ear injuries you sustained when a bomb went off a little too close for comfort during one of the BAU’s cases about a month ago. However, you were very careful in your day-to-day life, and the doctor said you were making rapid progress in terms of your healing.
“Spence, I only have a handful of days left, and considering the kind of unsub we're dealing with, I'm sure it's fine.” You paused for a few moments before continuing. “Plus, I have earplugs,” you said while turning your head in both directions so he could see them. Unfortunately, he still wasn't convinced.
“It doesn't matter, Y/N; you haven't been cleared by a doctor yet, so you can't go out into the field. You should just focus your attention here,” he said while pointing at all the photos and paperwork sprawled around us in the conference room. “You should look it over; there might’ve been something we missed.”
You raised your eyebrows at him and let out a snort. “That's the best excuse you have, Spence? I appreciate the concern, but I'm going. This unsub is highly dangerous, and we need all the help we can get.”
"No, you're not,” he replied sternly.
“Who died and made you Unit Chief?” you scoffed, feeling your annoyance growing. “I'm going with you guys, whether you like it or not. I'm a grown woman, and I can handle myself just fine.
Although Spencer had a tendency to be stubborn, his behavior right now was foreign. You began walking toward the door, and just as you were about to grip the doorknob, you felt Spencer’s firm grasp wrap around your wrist. You looked over to see him staring at you coldly.
“Y/N, you're not going. I can't let you put yourself in danger.”
You suddenly felt your blood boil. Who did he think he was to act like this? To grab you and order you around? Treat you like you didn't know how to take care of yourself? 
You snatched your wrist away and quickly turned to face him. "Actually, Reid, I'm going to go wherever I please, seeing as you have no authority over me whatsoever.” You were silent for a few moments until the perfect remark suddenly came to mind. “Somebody obviously needs to work on respecting boundaries,” you said slyly, opening up the door to leave, but he spoke up, stopping you in your tracks once more.
"Well, somebody obviously needs to work on following orders,” he muttered.
That was it. Your annoyance and anger finally bubbled over, and you lost it. You both began going back and forth, snapping snarky remarks at one another with no mercy whatsoever, your words piercing each other like knives. 
“You just can't put aside your fucking stubbornness for the good of the team, can you, Reid?”
You could tell that those words hit him hard because from one moment to the next, his whole demeanor changed. “I can't put aside my stubbornness?” He said quietly, breathing shakily as he did. 
He spoke up once more, this time at a much louder volume. “You're the one who can't put aside your stubbornness, Y/N! You can't admit the fact that you're not currently fit to do your job, and your stupidity is putting yourself and the entire team at risk!”
You begin to open your mouth, ready to retort, but he cuts you off. “Face it, Y/N, you're weak!” He was practically screaming at this point, the veins in his neck sticking out as they pulsed rapidly. Suddenly all you heard was a sharp ringing, and you fell to the floor, tightly clutching your ears in an attempt to make it stop. As if on cue, Derek ran in to diffuse the situation. 
Caught up in his anger, Spencer spoke again, still yelling. “See?! This is what I'm talking about. If you can't handle me raising my voice, how are you going to go in the-”
“Reid!” Derek yelled, your whole body wincing as he did. 
“Give it a rest; can't you see she's in pain?” He said harshly, turning his attention back to you immediately. He helped you stand up, and you quietly thanked him before turning to Reid.
“Well, you got what you wanted,” you said softly as you removed your bulletproof vest. “Good luck out there, Dr. Reid.” Your tone was full of dejection and defeat as you placed the vest on the table. You didn't even bother looking at him or Derek as you walked out of the conference room, through the bullpen, and out of the precinct.
You ended up walking outside for a while before deciding to actually head to the hotel. The night air soothed your soul and brought you comfort as you wandered the streets aimlessly. However, you knew you couldn't stay out there forever, no matter how much you wanted to.
When you walked into your hotel room, you placed your stuff down on a small lounge chair and flopped onto your bed, letting out a large sigh. You remembered you had turned your phone off once you walked out of the precinct since you desperately needed space, so you grabbed it out of your bag and turned it back on just to make sure you hadn’t missed anything important. 
You had a few missed calls from Derek and Garcia, along with a text from Hotch.
“Take the night off. We'll talk first thing tomorrow morning.”
You let out a groan, knowing what that message entailed. You decided to shower before heading to bed, hoping the water would cleanse you of what you were feeling.
You step into the shower and are welcomed by warm water, instantly feeling at ease as it falls on your cool skin. Unfortunately, the feeling doesn't last long as your mind wanders back to the argument. You didn't understand why Spencer was so frustrated, so stubborn, and so mean to you. His words continued to echo in your head, and you eventually broke down, bawling your eyes out from the sheer pain you felt inside. The fact that he called you weak shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces. You guys had been close friends for years, and that's what he thought of you? Really? You felt stupid and betrayed, especially because you've had a huge crush on him for years now. All that love, care, and admiration felt like it amounted to nothing now.
Wanting to just put this awful night to end, you turned off the shower and continued getting ready for bed. You grabbed your pajamas out of your go-bag and lazily went through the rest of your nighttime routine. You then walked out of the bathroom and dropped on the bed in defeat, falling asleep as soon as you slipped under the covers.
You and Spencer walked quietly through the dark warehouse, the cool, eerie air causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You scanned the hallway with your flashlights and guns in hand, only to be met with nothing in each room you had checked. You reached the end of the hallway and slowly moved your hand over to twist the doorknob before you heard Spencer yell from the room behind you.
“Y/N!!! Hel-!”
You raced to him only to find the unsub holding him at gunpoint. Spencer had a few cuts on his face, probably from being pistol whipped.
“Drop the gun right now, or I will shoot,” you said sternly, aiming your pistol right at his head.
“Ah, not quite! Place your weapon over on that table, or your lovely partner here gets a bullet to the brain,” he spoke, motioning his gun over to the small wooden table to your left. Having no other choice, you walked over and placed your gun on the table, turning back around to face the unsub.
“Good girl! Now, allow me to take care of one small thing before we begin,” he said, directing his attention to Spencer. He hit Spencer over the head with his gun, using as much force as he could muster. Spencer immediately dropped to the floor, and you screamed.
“Shhh, don't fret, darling; now the real fun can begin,” he said as he slowly walked over to you. His ominous tone sent chills down your spine. 
“You see, the only reason any of this happened..." He paused for a few moments, looking you dead in the eyes as he said his next words, “is because you're weak.” Immediately, he swung his gun across your face, causing you to fall to the floor. He began kicking you, yelling at you as each kick landed.
“You're” kick “just” kick “a weak” kick “bitch.”
Your whole body writhed in pain, praying one of your teammates would come to rescue you and Spencer. As the unsub continued, all you could do was look at Spencer and feel flooded with guilt. 
After what seemed like forever, the unsub brought the beatings to a halt and proceeded to walk back over to Spencer.
“And now, the grand finale!”
You used all your force to croak out a small “no” as you watched him stand behind Spencer and inch the gun towards his head, preparing to shoot him. He cocked the gun and then turned to face you.
“Remember, this is all happening because you're a weak FBI agent who couldn't do her job,” he said coldly. “The only reason I'm keeping you alive is so that you can watch this and know that it's nobody's fault but yours. Your weakness is to blame, and your consequence is to live with the guilt of your mistakes.” You watched him bring the gun to Spencer’s head and pull the trigger as you wailed. 
Suddenly, you were back in the hotel room, your clothes soaked with sweat. You were shaking like a leaf and rapidly hyperventilating, feeling like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from how hard and fast it was beating. 
You instinctively reached for your phone and called Spencer, your heart rate increasing each time the phone rang.
Suddenly, it stopped.
“Hey Y/N.”
As his words echoed through your head, you felt a sense of both relief and dread. You realized that you had just had a terrible nightmare and that Spencer was completely fine. However, you were also immediately reminded of the argument you had with him earlier and suddenly froze. 
“Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer spoke once more, only to be met by silence.
“Y/N, is everything alright?”
Not knowing what to do, you hung up the phone and threw it across the room, sinking back into the covers almost immediately. You couldn't believe that this night had somehow managed to get worse. You wanted to scream as you felt the tears creep up behind your eyes, feeling absolutely helpless and worthless.
You felt weak, just like Spencer said you were.
You let out soft sobs into your pillow, not knowing what else to do with all the emotional turmoil stewing inside you. You thought about calling Garcia or Derek, but quickly realized they'd be either working or asleep, and bothering them was the last thing you wanted to do right now. You continued to cry, hoping you'd tire yourself out and eventually fall asleep between sobs. 
Surprisingly, you actually ended up falling asleep, but it didn't last long. You were suddenly awoken by a series of knocks on your door, the noise causing you to sit up in bed. You sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the door and wondering if you had just imagined the noise. You knew you were wrong when you heard a few more knocks, along with Spencer’s soft voice.
“Y/N?” knock. knock. knock. “Please let me in; I want to talk.”
You were in shock. Why was he at your hotel room so late at night? You felt your heart race and your body shake as you tried to figure out what to do. You knew you two had to talk at some point, and you did really miss him, but you didn't want him to see you. Not like this. Your eyes were red, puffy, and swollen from all the crying; your hair was messy; and you were wearing an old baggy t-shirt and shorts. 
Basically, you looked like crap.
Despite all this, you knew you had to let him in. You reluctantly got out of bed and approached the door, twisting the handle and slowly opening the door to meet Spencer’s eyes.
He quickly rushed into the room, his urgency taking you by surprise. Once he was inside and had put his stuff down, he began examining every inch of you with an intense, worried gaze. He could tell you were in pain, and the worst part was that he knew it was his fault. 
"Reid,” you croaked, clearing your throat before continuing your sentence. “What are you doing here?”
He began fidgeting with his fingers, thinking of a reply. He looked so meek compared to the argument earlier.
“You called a little while ago,” he said softly. “I spoke multiple times, and you never said a word. I had tried calling you afterwards, and you wouldn't answer.” His eyes met mine. “I was worried about you.”
“Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine, so you can leave now.”
“Y/N, please-” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“Reid, it's late. You need to leave” you said sternly, swallowing your tears as you practically pushed him toward the door.
Before you could open the door, you felt him wrap his arms around you, causing you to freeze. He began to speak, practically whispering in your ear.
“Y/N, please. I can tell you're not okay, and I know I'm to blame. Let me make it right, please."
Maybe it was how distraught and desperate he sounded as he spoke, or maybe it was because you were finally in his warm embrace after missing him for so long, but you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. Spencer just held you as you cried softly, trying to comfort you any way he could while he waited for you to calm down.
“Can we go to the bed, please?” you requested softly.
Spencer gave you a small nod with a weak smile. “Of course, Y/N.”
You walked over and laid down on the bed, shifting your body away from the edge of the bed and then patting your hand down on the empty space, urging Spencer to follow suit. He took off his shoes and gently laid down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you placed your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat soothed you as you listened to its echo in his chest. 
“So why did you end up calling tonight?” He asked softly, running his hands through your hair as he spoke.
You took a deep breath before answering, doing your best to maintain your composure, or whatever you had left of it.
“I, um, had a nightmare. We were on a case and…” Your voice trailed as the nightmare flooded your thoughts. “It was a bad one. I had to make sure you were okay, so I called you as soon as I had woken up. Once I heard your voice, I was reminded of our argument from earlier and realized I just had a nightmare, and I froze.”
You then explained the entire nightmare in detail, a few tears escaping your eyes as that horrid scene replayed in your head. Spencer just listened the whole time as he held you, stroking your hair or holding you a little tighter at times while you spoke.
Once you finished, he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N… I'm so sorry. I never wanted to argue with you; I just couldn’t handle the thought of you getting hurt again, and I snapped.” His voice was shaky as he spoke. 
“I thought I had lost you in the bombing, and I couldn't let you get hurt again, not if I could do something about it. I care about you too much to let you get hurt again.” He paused for a few moments before continuing. "But I spiraled, and I was wrong. I ended up hurting you anyway.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but he began talking again before you could even get a syllable out.
“You're not weak; you're one of the strongest people I know. You're strong, brave, and courageous, and I admire you so much.” His voice began to choke. “I never wanted you to think you're weak because you're so far from it. I'm so, so sorry."
Now, you were both crying in each other's arms, holding each other tightly as you each whispered words of comfort into the other’s ear in between your sobs. At one point, you both coincidentally lifted your heads up and locked eyes with each other, causing both of you to laugh at how much of a wreck both of you looked.
“We look like shit,” you said, catching your breath from that sudden fit of laughter. 
“Yeah, we sure do.”
Spencer’s gaze suddenly changed, and he had a similar look of sadness from earlier as he spoke his next words. “Well, I should probably get going, shouldn’t I?” He got up, but you reached for his wrist before he could go too far.
“Um, this is probably wildly unprofessional and all, but could you spend the night with me, Spence?” You could feel the blush on your face burn your skin as you waited for his response. 
“Of course, Y/N. I’d love to stay the night,” he replied warmly, bringing a smile to your face.
You both went into the bathroom and got yourselves cleaned up. Spencer changed into his pajamas and quickly joined you in bed. He laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your shoulder, right by your ear. Just as you were dozing off, you heard him murmur something into your ear.
“I love you, Y/N.”
You suddenly felt your whole body get hot and instantly turned around, wondering if you were just hearing things.
“What did you say, Spencer?”
“I said I love you. I love you and care about you so much, and from now on, I’m going to spend every second of every day loving you, no matter what.” He planted a small kiss on your forehead after he spoke, pulling you into his chest and wrapping you tightly in his long arms. He felt so warm, so comfortable, and so right. You felt like you could just melt into his arms and become a part of him. You knew you belonged in his arms. 
“I love you too, Spencer. Sleep well,” you whispered softly, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest before finally drifting off to sleep.
Thanks so much for reading!
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haknom · 2 months
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NEVER AGAIN — SIM JAKE
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SYNOPSIS: fake dating your best friend to get back at each other’s exes was one thing, but falling in love without him liking you back? never doing that again.
PAIRING: fake-bf!jake x gn!reader
WARNINGS: unrequited love and angst. WORDCOUNT: 672 words
NOTE: wasn’t even supposed to be sad LMAO but if i ever write a fic on this… don’t be shocked.
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“YOU’RE GRIPPING TOO HARD, IT HURTS.” YOU WHISPERED, PLACING YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF JAKE’S.
“Oh, my fault. Is this better?” He asked softly as you nodded at the looser grip. His hands gently held your waist as you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck
The two of you moved to the rhythm of the song that played in the banquet hall.
Honestly, you and Jake weren’t a serious couple. Both of you were previously friends who decided to come together and make your exes jealous.
Which only helped to explain why you two were each other’s prom date.
“Do you even know how to dance?” He asked, hinting at the way your feet continuously stumbled over one another.
“Hey. Yes I do.” You said, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you.
“Just not like this…” You mumbled.
“Yeah, right.” He teased while scoffing. He stopped his movements and adjusted his hands that rested around your waist.
“Here, follow my movements.”
Jake’s voice was clear and tender as he took a step to the left. You looked at him confused and he nodded his head with a smile.
“Just follow.” He whispered while moving again, causing you to look at your formal shoes and his black Oxford’s.
You followed the path he created until you two were moving in sync.
“See, it isn’t that hard.” Jake said as you hummed in response and smiled.
You were actually having fun for once.
A few moments of silence passed through the space between both of you, but luckily, it wasn’t awkward.
It was comforting.
However, it wasn’t long before it was interrupted.
Jake looked up at the sound of chuckles and grimaced at the sight.
“Don’t you feel annoyed?” He asked as you looked up from the ground.
“What?” You replied, confused. He cocked his head at the two who danced with one another and smiled at each other like there was no tomorrow.
You shifted your gaze to where he stared. Turns out, he was referring to your ex and ex-best friend.
Usually, you would feel a sharp strike at your heart when you saw the two together, but right now, you didn’t.
“Not really.” You replied, eyes still on the two, causing Jake to look at you with knitted brows.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“Even if she was my friend for most of my life…” You paused, looking back at the boy.
“So were you,” you explained, “I might’ve lost a friend and a possible lover, yet I’m not as phased anymore.”
“Because I might’ve fallen in love with you,” was what you wanted to say last, but couldn’t.
“Because I still have you, right? That’s enough for me.” You said instead, not wanting to make things awkward.
He was probably still hung up on his ex-girlfriend, and judging from the way he rolled his eyes when he saw her and her new boyfriend together, you definitely weren’t wrong.
“Well, I am.” Jake said in a harsh tone as you tilted your head in confusion.
“I still hate seeing those two together.” He explained, his hands tightening around your waist again.
“Jake, too tight.” You winced, trying to shimmy out of his grip.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He apologized with a sheepish laugh.
Yes, the sound made your heart flutter, yet you knew anything you did wouldn’t have an affect on him.
“Here, let’s take a break. Would you like something to drink or eat?” Jake asked, removing his hands completely.
It would be nice to get a break from your heart constantly thumping at an immense pace.
So, you nodded at his request in agreement. He flashed a smile at you once more before leaving to visit the serving table as you returned a more awkward one.
Once he was gone, you looked over at your ex and your ex-best friend, then at Jake’s ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend and sighed.
Wow, was this what unrequited love felt like? If so, you hated it.
Never again.
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ohmyamor · 1 year
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he’s kinda hot | K.HJ
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Pairing: Demon!Hongjoong x reader
Summary: After a decent run with your boyfriend, you finally decide to end it when his paranoia becomes too much. Except, maybe he wasn’t crazy. And now you have a demon who refuses to leave you alone. 
w.c. 4.6k
Warnings: fluff, slight angst if you squint, minor character death he’s a dick don’t worry, mentions of blood and icky sounds but nothing is seen directly, suggestive content, cursing, desire hongjoong lives in my mind rent free
There’s something wrong with your boyfriend. 
You first began to notice his odd behavior a little over a month ago, but for the past week, it’s gotten progressively worse. 
What started off as slight jumpiness and anxiety has now turned into full fledged paranoia, to the point where he refuses to ever leave the house, having breakdowns over this ‘person’ who’s after him.
“What do mean you can’t go with me?” You sighed exasperatedly, crossing your arms and staring at the sad excuse of a man standing in front of you. 
A few months ago, you might’ve cared about how tired and worn-down he looked, but now? At this point in your relationship?
You really couldn’t care less. 
“Are you crazy?” Your boyfriend all but shouts at you. 
You feel your jaw clench at his tone.
“Do you know what’ll happen if I go out there?” he continues shouting like a madman. “He’s going to get me! They’re all going to get me! It’s not safe for me out there!” 
There’s a crazed look in his eyes and you feel a slight chill run up your spine. 
You don’t think you want to stick around any longer to find out what his tipping point is going to be. 
“Okay, then stay,” you spit, marching over to the couch to grab your wallet and keys. “Stay here and rot for all I care because you have been nothing but a paranoid piece of shit lately and you refuse to get help.” 
“I’m not going to sit around and wait for this episode or whatever you want to call it,” you wave your hands around, “to end, because I have a life and I am not going to sit around waiting for you to get it together.” 
“So this relationship ends here,” you glare at him. 
“Good luck getting by without anybody who cares about you,” you let the words hang in the air as you walk to the front door and exit the apartment, slamming the door shut behind you. 
Huffing, you shove your wallet and keys into your pocket and begin the trek to the grocery store. 
-
After spending a few hours running errands and killing time, you’ve calmed down significantly. 
You had called your close friend Seonghwa on the way to the market, telling him what had happened between you and your now ex-boyfriend. 
“He sounds crazy,” Seonghwa had said over the phone. 
“I know Hwa, which is why I decided to end it because I refuse to stay in another relationship where the other person expects me to solve all of their problems,” you groaned. 
He hummed over the line. 
“Plus,” you continue. “There was this look, in his eyes and on his face, like he genuinely believed there was something out to get him.” 
Seonghwa is quiet. 
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It just gave me a really bad feeling and you know how I feel about gut instincts. I’d rather trust myself and be safe than sorry.” 
“Yeah of course. Honestly honey, I think you did the right thing. I never liked him from the beginning, but you were happy and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, but I agree, if you have a bad feeling about something, you should always trust your intuition,” Seonghwa reassures you. 
You let out a small laugh. 
“And don’t worry,” he continues, “You’re an amazing person and a great catch, so it’ll be no time before you have someone else falling at your feet.” 
You roll your eyes. 
Even if he can’t see you, Seonghwa’s known you for long enough to anticipate your habits. 
“Thank you Hwa,” you smile into the phone. 
“Anytime.”
The two of you chatted on for a little bit more after that, with Seonghwa letting you know he always had an extra room in case you needed to crash at his place for a while. 
You thanked him once again but refused his offer. After all, the lease on the apartment was under your name, and you paid most of the bills, so if anyone was going to be leaving, it’s going to be your ex. 
The conversation was definitely much-needed, and after the reassurance that you weren’t crazy for ending your relationship, you felt much more confident to head back to your apartment and kick out the man living there. 
Once you finally made it back to your building, you exited the elevator and walked down the corridor to your apartment door. Taking deep breaths, you began to steel your nerves in order to prepare for whatever breakdown the male might have. 
As you approached your door, you noticed that it looked slightly open. 
You pause in your footsteps, narrowing your eyes to see if the door was truly open or if it’s just a trick of your eyes. 
Dread begins to build in your stomach when you realize that your door is, in fact, open. 
It’s fine, you attempt to reassure yourself in your mind. Maybe he finally got the hint and left. 
Cautiously, you approach the door and push it open with your foot. 
Stepping inside, you notice how eerily quiet it is. 
Normally when you come back from work or running errands, your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself, is doing something to keep himself busy in his self-appointed quarantine. Whether it’s playing a video game or watching T.V., there’s always some kind of noise echoing throughout your small apartment. 
But now, there’s nothing. 
It’s also incredibly dark. 
Dropping the grocery bags onto the floor softly, you reach into your pocket to pull out your keys. You move to the turn on the light switch that’s on the wall, but freeze when you hear whimpering coming from somewhere in the room. 
You opt to not turn on the light, unsure of where the noise is coming from and also slightly terrified of what’s going on. 
You keep one hand on your phone, ready in case you need to call the police.
Quietly and ever so slowly, you make your way to the bedroom where the whimpering noise is coming from. 
The door to your room is slightly ajar, allowing a few rays of light to peek through. On the carpet in the hallway is a dark trail of something. 
You swallow thickly, hoping it’s not what you think it is. 
You stop in front of the bedroom door and strain your ears to listen to the noises coming from the room. With your heart pounding loudly in your chest, you come to the realization that the whimpers are coming from your ex-boyfriend. 
“Now, now, now,” a voice that is certainly not your boyfriend’s rings out. 
“Crying isn’t going to get you anything,” the voice chuckles. “You knew what the price of the deal was, and yet, you still tried to double-cross me.” 
There’s more muffled crying. 
“Silly human,” the voice says sinisterly. 
“Didn’t anybody ever warn you to not make deals with the devil?” 
The sound of flesh being torn reaches your ears along with pained crying, and you feel sick to your stomach when a metallic smell reaches your nose. 
You bring your hands up to cover your mouth to prevent yourself from gagging. You have no clue what you should even do at this point. Whatever’s in there with your ex is either an incredibly deranged human being, or something not even human. 
You don’t want to find out which one it is.
After what feels like forever, the muffled crying stops, and your stomach sinks when you come to realization that your ex might now be dead. 
The person inside the room sighs. 
“Open the door sweetheart.” 
Your blood runs cold. 
Raising a trembling hand, you move to push the door open, bracing yourself for whatever gruesome sight awaits you and whatever monster you’ll see standing in your room. 
Except, you see neither. 
There is no body in your room, nor is there any blood or gruesome mess. 
There’s also certainly no monster. 
Instead, a man sits on a single chair in the middle of the room. 
He has bright red hair and a slightly pointed nose. Jewelry adorns his ears and hands, and he wears a pair of dark dress pants with a white shirt that’s tucked in. His sleeves are rolled up on his arms.
If it weren’t for the small splatters of a red substance on his otherwise pristine shirt, you might’ve thought that what you heard before never happened. 
Your eyes drag over his figure before coming to rest on his face. The two of you make eye contact and a shiver runs down your spine at the wicked smile he sends you. 
“Did you enjoy our little show?”
You say nothing. 
The man sighs and places his hands on his thighs, pushing himself up off the chair. He takes a few steps forward until he stands less than a foot away from you. 
I’m going to die, you think.
I’m going to die a horrible and gruesome death and no one will ever know and i’ll never see my friends again and i’ll never say goodbye to my parents and-
The man chuckles.
“You’re not going to die.” 
“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man reaches his hand out to gently grab yours. He bows slightly, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand while maintaining eye contact.
“My name is Hongjoong and I’m the demon who just took care of your pesky little boyfriend problem.” 
-
Was laughing out loud to the man’s, demon’s?, introduction the best choice?
Probably not. 
But you cannot be blamed for your habit of laughing in awkward situations. 
After all, here is this man, who just admitted to killing your ex-boyfriend, introducing himself to you as a demon and also kissing the back of your hand like the two of you were in the 1700′s. 
What sane person would have a normal reaction to that?
As soon as the sound made its way out of your body, your free hand immediately slapped itself over your mouth and your eyes widened in horror. 
If the demon didn’t have any plans on killing you at first, he’s definitely going to now. 
The man doesn’t say anything, simply raising a brow as a small smile takes over his face. 
“I’m glad you found my introduction so amusing sweetheart, but I can assure you, this is certainly real.”
As he said that, you watched in slight horror as his eyes faded from a soft brown color to dark pools of black. Swallowing, you attempt to tug your hand out of the demon’s grasp to try and back away, but his grip only tightens. 
He clicks his tongue and within a fraction of a second, his eyes have returned to brown. 
“Why are you here?” You finally muster up the courage to speak. Despite your attempts to sound even the slightest bit brave, the waver to your voice was obvious. 
Hongjoong sighs, annoyed. 
“That sorry excuse of a man you called your boyfriend was in my debt. I made it clear to him when he made a deal with me what the price would be, and he still attempted to evade me.” He rolled his eyes and for a split second, the demon reminded you of a parent whose child wouldn’t listen. 
“What deal did he make?” You question, your curiosity getting the better of you. 
The demon looks back at you. 
“Nothing that concerns your pretty little self,” he winks. 
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his actions. 
“Considering you just killed him, I think it’s safe to assume it was a pretty important deal,” you challenge. 
A grin creeps onto Hongjoong’s face. 
“So you have the looks and the brains to accompany it,” his smile widens. 
You try to fight back the heat that was rising to your cheeks. 
Yeah, maybe he’s a demon who killed your ex-boyfriend, but he’s also an incredibly attractive demon who just called you smart and beautiful. Who are you to deny his compliments?
“But,” Hongjoong continues. “If you must know, he wanted to become wealthy and successful.” He takes a glance at your reaction. “And he wanted lots of women.” 
You can’t hide the disgusted look that makes its way onto your face. 
“That piece of shit,” you mutter under your breath. 
After everything you did for him, he still had the audacity to go behind your back, make a deal with a demon, and wish for wealth and women?
I really know how to pick ‘em, you think bitterly. 
Hongjoong continues, noticing the look on your face. 
“But no need to worry, sweetheart. I’ve taken care of your little problem, and I do think you come out of this fiasco the winner.” 
Your eyebrows furrow and you stare at him in confusion. 
Hongjoong leans in close, close enough where you can feel his breath on your face and his lips are mere inches from yours. His eyes have slowly begun to bleed black and another wicked smile makes its way onto his face.
“Now, you have me.” 
It seems as though demons share the unfortunate similarity to human males where they seem to be extra sensitive in between their legs. 
Unfortunately for Hongjoong, you had taken advantage of his proximity to knee him where the sun doesn’t shine. While he doubled over in pain, you take the opportunity to run out of your bedroom and head straight for the front door. 
I just need to get out, I need to call someone, I need to call Seonghwa-
Right as your fingers brush against the door handle, a hand grabbed at your wrist and yanked you back. 
Grunting, you land harshly on the floor, the breath being knocked out of you. A weight over your body makes you wince. Opening your eyes, you watch as Hongjoong straddles your waist, his hands coming down to rest near your head. 
He clicked his tongue. 
“Nice try cutie, but you can’t get away from me that easily.” 
Struggling, you attempt to shove him off of you, but despite his slightly smaller stature, the stupid demon won’t budge. 
“I didn’t make a deal with you!” You cry out, punching his chest. “You got what you wanted, so leave me alone!” 
Hongjoong lets out a chuckle. 
“I don’t think you get it sweetheart. I want you.” 
“Why?” You pant, your adrenaline slowly fading and confusion taking over. 
Hongjoong shrugs. 
“You intrigue me.” 
You can’t help but roll your eyes. 
“How romantic,” you say sarcastically. 
“See, this is what I mean,” he gestures down at your body that is still laying on the floor. “When I was dealing with your boyfriend, you heard what was going on and instead of leaving, you stayed behind the door.” 
He knew I was there the entire time?
“When I introduced myself, you laughed, and even after our entire conversation, you still had the gall to hurt me to try and run away.” He stares into your eyes so deeply that you can’t help but squirm slightly. 
“It’s called a fight or flight response.” 
Hongjoong giggles, and if it weren’t for the fact that you are currently pinned down beneath the demon, you honestly might find it kind of cute. 
Sighing, you let your hands fall to the floor next to you. Hongjoong looks at you slightly amused. 
“So what, you’re gonna stick around and when you eventually get bored, you’re gonna kill me and take me soul?”
He tilts his head to the side. 
“I can if you want me to.” 
With wide eyes, you shake your head no. 
“That’s what I figured,” Hongjoong chuckles. “No, you haven’t made a deal with me, so I won’t take your soul. You’re just stuck with me now.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. 
“Great,” you sigh. 
-
In Hongjoong’s defense, having him around isn’t that bad. 
For the most part, he sticks to himself, observing you as you go about your day. 
“That’s really creepy,” you mentioned offhandedly one day. 
“What is?” Hongjoong questioned. 
“This whole, standing and staring thing you have going on,” you waved your hand around. 
“Would you prefer me to be up close and personal with you?” In the blink of an eye, Hongjoong is standing directly against you. 
Taking a step back, you raise your hands in front of you. 
“No, I’m fine, you can continue with your staring.” 
On occasion, he can be pretty helpful, too. 
You slam the door to your apartment open, stomping inside and throwing your bag on the floor. You throw yourself face-first onto the couch and let out a muffled scream. 
From where he sits at the dining table watching Netflix on your computer, Hongjoong stares at you, amused. 
“Is everything okay sweetheart?”
“No,” comes your muffled reply. 
If Hongjoong didn’t have incredibly sharp hearing, he would have a hard time understanding you. 
“Stupid Eric from work thinks he can just treat all the women like pieces of meat and get away with it because he’s the boss’s son,” you spit. 
You miss the way Hongjoong’s face darkens. 
“Did he do something to you?” He questions. 
You’re silent for a moment, debating if you want to say it out loud.
“It’s just,” you trail off, unsure how to say it.
Hongjoong hums, letting you know that he’s listening.
“He’s always made comments to all the women in my department, and those are easy to ignore, but today he got really close to me when we were in the break room.”
You can feel your body tense up as you relive the moment.
“Honestly, I thought he was going to try and do something, but luckily, one of our coworkers walked in before he could do anything,” you admit.
It’s silent for a few seconds.
“I’ll be back,” are the only words that come out of Hongjoong’s mouth.
You sit up abruptly from the couch.
“Huh?”
Before you can even finish speaking, Hongjoong is gone.
“So much for moral support,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the couch.
It’s not until late that the demon returns.
You’re sitting on your bed with a face mask on, scrolling through work emails when Hongjoong appears suddenly at the foot of your bed.
You jump slightly, only calming down when you realize who it is.
“Fuck dude, you can’t keep doing that,” you chastise him, trying to calm your racing heart.
Hongjoong says nothing, staring at you.
It’s only then you notice the way his eyes are completely black and he’s breathing abnormally hard.
A shiver crawls up your spine.
“Are you okay?” You ask hesitantly.
Still, Hongjoong remains quiet for a moment before rolling his shoulders back, a deep exhale escaping him.
“You don’t need to worry about that Eric anymore,” is all he says before walking out of your room.
Although you’re slightly horrified at the implications of his words, you also can’t deny the fuzzy feeling in your chest over his actions.
The most annoying part about having him around, though, is the teasing.
Hongjoong seems to have made it his mission to fluster you. 
Constantly.
You had just stepping out of the bath, a satisfied sigh escaping you as you wrapped a fuzzy towel around your body.
After a long week, the long, warm bath was incredibly needed.
Softly combing through your hair, you hum slightly as you go through your nighttime skincare routine, being extra thorough and gentle.
Once you finish, you open the door to your bathroom and step out into your room, only to gasp when you see Hongjoong laying on your bed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You exclaim as one of your hands reaches up to tightly grab the towel that’s wrapped around your body.
Hongjoong glances over at you, drinking in the sight of your damp body.
“Enjoying the view,” he winks.
You roll your eyes, walking over to the bedroom door and opening it.
“Get out.”
The demon pouts as he sits up on your bed.
“C’mon, don’t you think I’ve been good lately?” He stands up slowly and begins making his way over to you.
Hongjoong gets closer, a small smirk making its way onto his face.
“Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”
You stand completely still against the wall, gulping harshly. There’s a heat that builds in your lower stomach as you stare into his hooded eyes.
One of Hongjoong’s hands creeps up to gently toy with the edge of the towel that lays against your chest.
“If you ever feel so kind,” Hongjoong leans in to whisper against your ear. “You know where to find me.”
He leans away from you, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
Wordlessly, he walks out of your bedroom and shuts the door.
You quickly place the lock on it before sitting down on your bed. Placing a hand over your chest, you feel it beat harshly against your chest.
What the fuck was that?
-
Today is a particularly bad day.
From running late in the morning, missing your normal bus to work, and being reprimanded for a mistake you didn’t even do, you think your last straw is when it starts pouring on your way home.
Of course, the weatherman certainly did not predict this today, so you were left umbrella-less and with only a thin blazer to shield yourself from the elements.
And, with your incredible luck, a call from your mother nagging about why you haven’t visited in a few months and how you need to start thinking about a more serious career really seemed to tip you over the edge.
You don’t even make it all the way home, instead opting to go to the nearby park to sit and be alone for a little while.
The rain hasn’t stopped, but it no longer bothers you. In fact, you welcome the harsh sting of water against your skin. It’s the only feeling you seem to be able to comprehend at this moment.
You sit on the swing and stare numbly at your feet. There are tears making their way down your cheeks, but you cannot distinguish them from the rain.
You’re not sure how long you sit there alone.
Only the sudden lack of water pelting down on you causes you to look up.
Standing next to you in casual clothes is Hongjoong. He holds an umbrella over you, the rain beginning to soak his left side.
You hadn’t even notice him approach.
“You know, if you wanted to get killed or die from a hypothermia, this is a for sure way to do it,” he jokes.
You don’t respond.
Hongjoong notices your lack of response and furrows his eyebrows.
“What’s wrong sweetheart?”
His tone is gentle, probably the softest you’ve ever heard him speak.
You can’t stop the sobs that leave your mouth at his words.
Without hesitation, Hongjoong drops the umbrella and falls to his knees in front of you. He brings his arms up as you fall into the chest, your face burrowing itself into his neck.
He says nothing as you cry, rubbing his hands softly against your back and stroking your hair.
It takes a few minutes for your sobs to die down and when you do, Hongjoong gently pulls your body away from his to look at you.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He questions, eyes searching your own.
The look of despair on your face breaks Hongjoong’s heart. His chest physically hurts at the way you seem to be in so much pain, and him, unable to do anything about it.
He can’t remember the last time he felt so distraught over a human.
“I’m so tired,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. 
A few stray tears make their way down your cheeks and Hongjoong cups your face with his hands, gently brushing them away.
“Then use me,” He says.
“Rest on me, take your anger out on me, hurt me, laugh at me, I don’t care.”
The raw honesty in his voice causes you to open your eyes and stare at him.
“It hurts me to see you in pain,” he frowns.
You let out a weak chuckle.
“I didn’t know demons could feel pain,” you attempt to joke.
Hongjoong doesn’t reply, only continuing to stare at you as if he’s trying to commit every inch of your face to memory.
“I feel so strongly for you it hurts,” he whispers.
Your eyes widen and you stare into his, trying to search for any inkling of deceit that will let you know he’s lying.
You can’t find any.
Your mouth parts, but no words come out. Hongjoong runs one of his fingers over your bottom lip.
“If you let me,” he glances from your lips up to your eyes. “I want to be your everything, the same way you are mine.”
The only thing that leaves your lips is a breathy sigh of his name. He leans in closer.
“May I?” He asks lowly.
You barely have a chance to nod before Hongjoong is crashing his lips onto yours.
The kiss is passionate, slightly desperate in the way he clutches onto your face and pulls you closer, as if you’ll disappear from his hands if he leaves even an inch of space between your bodies.
Hongjoong lightly nibbles on your lower lip and you let out a soft sigh. One of his hands has moved to your hip, where it rubs soft circles.
Eventually pulling away from each other, you lean your forehead against his.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” Hongjoong admits to you.
You let out a small laugh and shake your head.
“You’re like a million years old, I find that slightly hard to believe.”
He shakes his head no, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to rest against his chest where his heart is. Underneath your palm, you feel the way his heart pounds.
“This is all for you,” Hongjoong smiles.
“Only for you.”
bonus!
You and Hongjoong were enjoying a night in, laying down on your bed as a movie played on the T.V. Hongjoong had draped himself over your lap, resting his head on your stomach as you gently combed your hands through his hair. 
“You know, for a demon, I thought you would have horns or something,” you mumble, eyes focused on the screen. Hongjoong’s body shakes with slight laughter. 
“Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I have horns. That’s kind of stereotypical of you to assume,” he teases. 
You roll your eyes, lightly smacking him on the back of his head. 
“I do have fangs though,” he mentions after a couple of seconds. 
Your eyes widen. 
“Really?”
Hongjoong hums, leaning up slightly to face you. He opens his mouth and you watch as his teeth slowly become pointed. Gaping, you bring your hand up to softly run your fingers over the sharp edges. Your breath hitches slightly when you press the pad of your finger on the point of his tooth and it leaves a small wound. 
Grinning, Hongjoong crawls on top of you. 
“Do you like them?” he asks. 
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s leaning down and leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. You let out a breathy sigh, moving your head to side to give him more access. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes when he drags the tips of his sharpened teeth against your skin. 
Pulling back to look at your flushed face, Hongjoong smirks, black seeping into his eyes. 
“Oh sweetheart,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun.” 
                                        ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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licorice-tea · 3 months
Text
The Bane of My Existence
Pairing:Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: some spoilers for Sabaody arc (nothing major), enemies to lovers! strawhat reader, reader and law are both stubborn and argumentative smh, reader is more optimistic though, law is awkward and not great at understanding his own feelings <3
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: part 1/2 for a little enemies to lovers fic! one of my favorite tropes but I almost never write about it... also I've been rewatching bridgerton and was very inspired by the relationship between Kate and Anthony, which is where the title comes from too! (can you guess what part 2 will be called?) anyway, enjoy and lmk your thoughts! :)
Part 2
Sabaody Archipelago is easily one of the coolest places you’ve visited so far. Not that Alabasta, Skypiea, Water 7, Thriller Bark weren’t cool too… but you’re a people person! And to get to see such a diverse mix of groups from all over the world converging here, on one island Archipelago, brings a genuine smile to your face. It truly does remind you of a theme park: from the attractions to the oversized trees and bubbles.
In fact, you’re so caught up in all the splendors of the carnival-esque grove that you don’t realize you’re being watched. Or, followed, rather.
The Heart Pirates, yet another crew from some vague corner of the world, have been tracking you for the better part of an hour now. Except, they’re only following their captain, who happens to be following you.
Hes not entirely discreet about it though, because at one point Bepo asks, “Um… Captain, why are we following them?”
Shachi responds unprompted, “Yeah, I’ve never seen their bounty poster so… what’s up?”
Law scowls, “I’m not following anyone.”
Though he is low-key following you, Law couldn’t give a good reason as to why. You walked past him and his crew on your way to meet up with the rest of your crew- the Strawhat Pirates- and he’d just sort of trailed after you once you’d gotten a safe distance ahead.
“Really? Because every time they stop for directions, we slow down. And we’ve turned at all the same spots, too… So it really does seem like we’re follo-“
“I am NOT following them.” He lies through (literally) gritted teeth.
Now, Trafalgar Law is in now way shape or form a believer in love at first sight. He’s never been in love period… but the feeling he gets from seeing you is something new and foreign. Like, he really wants to talk to you… he just doesn’t know what for. Law is still trying his best to come up with reasons to stop you and ask for your name when you overhear the brief argument between him and his friends.
With a quick glance over your shoulder, you spot a group of at least 10 on your trail. They’re in the middle of conversation, so they don’t notice you taking notice of them.
Your first instinct is to look around for your crew; but of course, they’re scattered across the groves of Sabaody Archipelago by now - as are you. “Sigh. I might just have to handle this in my own.” But, wait- who said they wanted to fight you? Maybe you should just approach them first, wouldn’t that give you the upper hand in some way? (It wouldn’t, but you can’t think of anything better than to try and charm your way out of a possible jumping with your friendliness and perfect smile.) So, you roll back your shoulders and take a breath before strolling back over the grass to your pursuers.
“Why would I be following some rand-“
“Because you have a crush on them!”
“Oh they’re cute, Captain, you should ask them to join!”
“Gasp! Yeah, then you can get to know-“
They all go silent (save for some quiet gasps) as you step toward the semi circle they’ve formed around one man- the only one not wearing a white uniform, who they call “Captain.” You tap him on the shoulder and he whips his head around.
“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?”
The man just stares at you for a moment with a frown. You fear that you might’ve been wrong about his intentions, until he blinks and mumbles, “Uh… Sure.”
Your smile returns- of course you weren’t wrong! Plus, he’s kind of hot, but you’d catalog that thought and come back to it on some lonely night in the future. “Great! I’m looking for grove 41, it’s where some of my friends are.”
You’d learned back in Water 7 that sometimes, it was best not to disclose who exactly you’re traveling with, nor the location of your ship. (At least, not when you’re infamous pirates.)
“Grove 41? I’m headed there too.”
The polar bear wearing who is also wearing a white uniform clears his throat.
“I thought we were heading to Grove 1, Captain?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to get in y’all’s way then-“
“Nah, I think Captain would love to show you the way.”
“Shachi!” The captain sneers. “We’ll meet back up at Grove 1 after I show them the way." Then, he looks you up and down. It's quick and analytical rather than flirtatious or intimidating. "Don’t cause me any trouble.”
You smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m y/n, by the way.”
“Trafalgar Law, and this is my crew, the Heart Pirates.” He gestures around the semi circle, then turns to face them, “You guys go take a break or something. I’ll be back shortly.”
“But Captain, we want to go with you!”
One of the men with red hair- Shachi, you’re pretty sure, elbows the polar bear.
“Hey!…” He looks down at Shachi then gasps like he suddenly had a revelation; “Ohhh. Sorry Captain, we’ll see you later!”
Law rolls his eyes. “See you soon.”
There's something about his dark hair and grey eyes that charms you, right off the bat. Or maybe it's his relaxed, confident demeanor. Possibly even his idiosyncratic style of clothing, and how he (and all of his crew) wore the same logo; so very organized and professional. But no matter the exact reason as to why, you find yourself quite happy to be in his company.
Alas, he’s not a very talkative man, so you make up most of the conversation with questions and your own introductory information. “-and that’s how I got here, to Sabaody!”
“Uh huh. And who did you say your crew was again?”
“I, ahem, I don’t travel with a crew.”
“Right.” He laughs dryly.
“What is it?”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“I- I’m not lying!”
“Look, you don’t have to tell me what crew you’re a part of,” Law explains, “but don’t lie and say you’re not a pirate at all.”
“Well… it’s generally not a good idea to tell strangers that you’re a pirate. Not even nice ones, like you."
Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach that unexpectedly appear when you call him nice, Law's burning curiosity is fed by your roundabout half-answer. “Ah, so you are one? What’s your bounty?”
“That’s not really any of your business.” Though you believe his intentions to be purely based in curiosity, you're second guessing allowing this man to lead you away on an island grove that you have never visited, nor know anything about. Still, your crew is nowhere in sight or hearing range, which worries you given just how loud they usually are.
“I’m paying you a favor by leaving my crew to escort you to where I’m assuming your ship is located- it’s the least you could do.” Law’s tone is more prickly than before.
“Well, I don’t need an escort, and you’ve already walked me halfway there and pointed me in the right direction.”
“Fine- then I’ll leave.”
His sudden change in mood from what you interpreted as shy to borderline aggressive throws you off. And so, having a similar moody temperament and stubbornness (though you’d never admit it after seeing it so clearly in him), you return the sentiment. “Fine by me.”
You continue walking forward while Law turns back, until he calls over his shoulder. “And by the way; you’ll need to find your way through the lawless zone up ahead if you want to get to Grove 41.” If condescending was a person, it would be him. You’re sure of it. “That, or I could’ve shown you a much safer shortcut.”
You pause, turn to face him, roll your eyes, and continue walking.
“What, you’re still not going to ask for my help?”
“Don’t need it!” Which, you really don’t. You’re plenty strong, but your bounty is small enough to not be worried. “I’m not scared of a law-less zone, if anything I think I’d welcome it.”
Your mocking words hurt his ego in a way he hasn't felt in years, taking him down several pegs.
You don't even stick around long enough to listen to him rebuke everything about you, from your high and mighty tone to your vain attempts at lying, ending his one sided argument with a very classy middle finger your way. So, Law grumbles all the way back to Grove 1 to find his crew, and hopes to never see you again. Meanwhile, you find your way to the other Strawhats. Your adventure with them continues, and you don’t have much time to think of your earlier encounter with a handsome pirate and possible-friend turned enemy (if you could even call him that.)
Law doesn't know if his ego (or wildly beating heart) could take another second in your presence- it just might burst if it had to endure any more of your witty comments or sly looks. It would, however, be an interesting theory to test further, should you ever meet again.
The prospect is both horrifying and thrilling to him at the same time.
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sixosix · 5 months
Text
LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO | LYNEY
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notes wc 3.9k lyney pov back again babyyy (and he’s acting a little crazy) 🫶 enjoy the chapter!
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Lyney hasn't uttered a single word on the way back to their house. Not a single word, but he doesn’t need to. It shows, anyway—the skip on his steps, the ever-present smile seemingly stuck on his face, and a glow in his eyes that no one has seen before.
Lynette must have caught it, too. She keeps glancing at him, suspicious.
Damage control wasn’t all that difficult when you’re well-loved by the people of Fontaine. They were out searching for Lyney, demanding refunds if they were going to discontinue, but they were appeased eventually. Lyney and Lynette resumed the show, apologized for the emergency, and the audience was won back by their enthusiasm and charm (and lies).
Still, Lynette pushes on with her stern words.
“That was careless, Lyney.” She locks the door. “Everyone was watching.”
Lyney prepares two cups of tea, dancing around the kitchen to boil water. “You know exactly why I did it.”
Lynette sits on a chair and watches him. Her gaze expresses more than her face sometimes. “I know. But I won’t let you escape from dealing with the backlash.”
Lyney smiles. “If anything, I should be saying that to you.”
His dear sister huffs, turning away. “So it was them I saw by the alley… I recognized the Traveler right away, but I found it strange that there was a familiar figure pressed up close against him.”
Lyney makes a face. He doesn’t want to imagine that—he might break something, and Freminet is an expert, but not when it comes to teacups.
Lyney breathed in deeply, letting the muffled cheers from the other side of the curtain fill his ears. His sister settled beside him, her expression troubled.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do you not feel like performing today?”
“No,” Lynette said. “I thought I saw something strange on the way here.”
That was alright. That meant Lynette wasn’t too nervous if she was letting her mind wander.
“Oh?” he said. Lyney looked for his hat, finding it underneath the stool he was on. Ah, Rosseland must have crawled in and put it there.
“I thought I saw the Traveler,” Lynette said, “in an alley doing something…” 
Oh my, Lyney mused in his head.
“With Y/N,” Lynette continued.
All at once, the noise became like streaming water. He didn’t hear Lynette calling for him. He didn’t hear her say she was most likely mistaken. His mind was blank the moment he heard your name.
It was a touchy subject.
She tapped his shoulder. “Lyney.”
“Haha,” Lyney said, choking on his own lies. “Have your eyes finally deceived you, dear sister?”
Lynette looked at him worriedly.
“And with the Traveler, really?” Lyney scoffed, moving his hat to his head. “I’m afraid it might’ve just been lookalikes getting handsy and couldn’t wait to get home.”
But the thought of it… Lyney scowled and looked at himself in the mirror, finding his own expression terrifying. He really needed to work on that.
Lynette has a ghost of a smile on her lips as Lyney spaced out, the devil.
“Y/N told us not to tell ‘Father’,” she recalls, casually, as if that isn’t the biggest source of Lyney’s headache at the moment. “What will you do?”
Lyney pauses, his hands hovering over a jar of sugar cubes, his back turned to his sister. “We’ve yet to hear news from ‘Father’, right?”
Lynette won’t be able to tell the expression he’s making, but she knows him well enough to figure out what he’s thinking. “Yes.”
Lyney hums, grinning. “I’ll be taking this opportunity.”
His sister has that same look backstage. Her eyes flicker to him, then return back to the table as if unsure of voicing her thoughts. Instead, she says, “What if Y/N doesn’t want to stay?”
“I’ll just clear up misunderstandings, at least! Maybe then, she’ll want to stay.” Lyney presses his palms against the table, looking at Lynette with a gleam in his eye. “I’ll tell her that I never wanted to be the next king. I’ll tell her the truth.”
Lynette’s brows furrow. “It wouldn’t be that simple.”
The water simmers. Lyney’s face is terrifyingly blank, not like the spitfire of his words as he says, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Lynette leans back, still frowning. She looks mildly startled. Lyney must have been making a scary face again. He clears his expression and forces a smile.
A tuneful beat on the door cuts through the tension rising in the room. It swings open and reveals a frazzled blond.
“Freminet!” Lyney greets, his shoulders loosening. “Let me also prepare tea for you.”
“How was it?” Lynette asks as their brother nearly sinks to the seat as if prepared to melt against it.
Freminet sighs heavily, world-weary. “I didn’t really hear anyone talking about anything else about your show. They were all chattering about your last trick. The one outside the Epiclese—with the fireworks?”
“Good,” Lyney resists the urge to pat himself on the back. “It seems the diversion has worked. Though, we still have to be perfectly sure.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Lynette mutters.
“Why the sudden notice, anyway?” Freminet mumbles, pressing his face against the glass table. “Did something happen?”
“Y/N was at the show.”
The only sound that fills the room is the whistling kettle. Lyney wordlessly pours it into the three cups and hands them to his siblings, one already preparing her tea and the other looking like he hasn’t quite taken in what Lyney said. 
“What!” Freminet stands up from his chair, utterly gobsmacked. “Where? I thought—”
Lyney stares at the cup of boiling water that nearly spilled over from Freminet’s outburst. “Careful, now. That will burn you,” he chides, yet his expression is serene.
Lyney doesn’t even need tea. It looks like the tea would do nothing when he’s already acting like the Sevens have blessed him personally.
Lynette prepares Freminet’s tea for him as Freminet continues, “At—at the show? Is that why you were asking if anyone was talking about it?”
Lynette slides Freminet’s tea over to him. “Mhm. We were making sure no one would harm Y/N while she was in Fontaine. Lyney already made up an excuse, but some people might not believe it.”
“While in Fontaine?” Freminet falters, sipping on his tea. “Y/N’s not staying?”
“Afraid not,” Lyney says bitterly. “She’s working under Master Childe now, and he never stays in one place too long. It’s a miracle he took a pit stop here.”
“It’s strange,” Lynette wonders thoughtfully. “I thought I heard Master Childe is here for something personal.”
“Maybe Y/N became Master Childe’s personal recruit,” Freminet supplies. “Y/N’s really strong.”
Lyney’s face scrunches up. He changes the subject swiftly. “Freminet, do you want to meet up with Y/N? You were her first friend, right?”
“With whom?” Freminet asks suspiciously.
“With me!” Lyney beams, a flourish with his gesture. “I invited Y/N over to spar with me outside the city. Just like old times, no?”
“No thanks.” Freminet’s expression turns haunted. “I don’t want to be alone with you and Y/N. I always feel like I’m intruding.”
“He just gets too handsy and can’t wait to get home, doesn’t he?” Lynette chimes in. “That's why I don't watch, either.”
Freminet doesn’t understand it, but Lyney’s face explodes in a blush.
“Hey!” Lyney huffs. “Suit yourself. I’ll tell Y/N you skipped out on a reunion.”
Freminet smiles. “Tell Y/N I missed her a lot, and she should come visit us.”
Lyney sighs, because he can never even pretend to be furious when Freminet is simply too sweet. He ruffles Freminet’s hair, toppling over his beret. “Alright,” he says fondly, “I’ll pass the message.”
Lynette waves. “Don’t have too much fun, now.”
THEN
Things became a lot more tense when you left.
Freminet and Lynette were devastated when Lyney told them that you stormed off. His arm felt as numb as what he was feeling at the time, and to think that it was all you left for him. He didn’t tell anyone else anything, but the rest of them got the gist of it when you didn’t appear the next day or the day after that.
Most of the orphans didn’t care; in fact, some had the gall to look relieved when rumors of your transfer began floating around. When Lyney heard one about how you must’ve died sneaking off to another mission, he snapped. He yelled and told them that they didn’t know anything—they never bothered to know who you were. They didn’t have the right to talk if they were only there to stain your name.
Lyney bore the brunt of it. Anyone could tell he was hurt by it the most.
Once, after Lyney was told off for mouthing off, Lynette found him in the far corner of the training room, his knees tucked to his chest and his eyes stormy.
Lynette sat down beside him and stared ahead. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, Lyney.”
Lyney glared at the floor. “I’m not mad at myself. I’m not the one who left.”
Lynette turned to him, surprised. “You’re mad at Y/N?”
He sat up straight and exhaled sharply. “She got a Vision. That’s what she always wanted, to become ‘Father’s successor. Now that she can have it, she runs.”
“Maybe that's not what she really wanted.”
“That's what she hated me for,” Lyney clarified.
“You don’t really hate her, do you? Did you think it was only right for you to hate her because she did to you? I can tell when you’re lying straight through your teeth, Lyney.”
Lyney didn’t say anything in reply because he knew everything that would come out would just be a lie. But when it came to Lynette, his silence was louder than words.
“Y/N will be back. This is her home, too.” Lynette said softly. “Come on, wipe that look off your face.”
Lyney blinked, desperately wiping away whatever expression he didn’t even know he was making.
“I didn’t think it was true,” Lynette said offhandedly. What a turn of events, to have Lynette talk more than Lyney. At his impatient frown, she clarified, “I noticed that you can never control your expressions well when it comes to Y/N.”
Lyney wasn’t sure if Lynette pointed it out to rub on Lyney’s face that what he felt was real, or to remind him that fragile things like emotions in their line of work are a weakness. Maybe it was both. It was his first mistake to be curious and end up falling face-forward for you—and now he ended up like this, furious for reasons he couldn’t understand.
It didn’t take long before ‘Father’ stopped mentioning you, before the orphans acted like you never existed, and before your existence felt like just a secret shared between the three.
It took a year for them to realize that this was no longer your home. You never returned.
Lyney speeds past fields of grass. He had taken the long route, circling around; he didn’t want to deal with anyone recognizing him—he was already running a little late. When he sees your figure, standing still underneath the bridge for Aquabuses overhead, he feels his chest glow.
You’ve shed off the large skirt and now wore a simple dress, smeared with dirt on the edges. Lyney wants to reach out and dust it off, to fix it for you. But Lyney is also getting a feeling that he shouldn’t ruin the picture you’ve made for yourself.
“Hey,” Lyney says, and he was fully expecting it when your arm lashed out and aimed right at his face. He grins at your stunned expression. “I still just want to talk first.”
“Sorry,” you say, flinching away. “I was in deep thought.”
Lyney settles beside you, hoping to ease you into his presence. There is nothing special about the view. It was just water for miles, architecture that stretched over to the next island, and the sunset. He much prefers it when he looks at you.
“What were you thinking about?”
“Lyney, listen.” You fidget nervously. “About Lord Tartaglia… I didn’t actually know where he was. I was just—I didn’t—”
“That makes sense.” Lyney nods thoughtfully. He thinks back to all the rumors he’s heard before about the man. “I've heard that Master Childe likes doing things on his own. And I'm glad you were just taken to another faction.”
“Oh.” A beat. “Yeah, right.”
“Wait, don’t tell me,” Lyney gasps. Your shoulders stiffen, and Lyney just knew he hit the jackpot. “Master Childe doesn’t even know you’re following him! Why are you following him?”
Were you actually his personal subordinate? Was Freminet right?
“Why am I—” Your jaw goes slack, perhaps in awe of his deduction skills. “You know what, never mind. Let’s stop talking about Lord Tartaglia.” And that title, too. Did Master Childe make his subordinates call his Lordship that? “What did you call me here for, Lyney?”
“I just wanted to catch up, like what we’re doing now.”
“Great.” You clap your hands. “We’ve caught up. I’ve got other things to do, you know.”
Lyney smiles instead. “Would you like to spar?”
Your gaze is intense, yet far away. “If you want,” you cede, which isn’t a blatant yes, but Lyney knows it’s one.
“It is an honor,” he says.
You frown. “Are you trying to do something?”
“Can’t the reason just be that I missed this? That I missed doing this with you?”
“...Fine.”
Your gaze sharpens, and you charge straightaway. Lyney moves his arm just in time; it still stings, just as he remembers. but it doesn’t hurt as bad now. In the same breath, you swipe again, your polearm spinning in that same hypnotizing circle as you strike at him. Lyney swerves aside or blocks it off each time, unaware of the crazed grin on his face.
He shoots off three different arrows, waiting for the perfect moment while you’re deflecting them. As always, you move with ease, flowing through your movements like Lyney would be wrong to disrupt it.
As a kid, he could watch in awe as you get to do cool moves, but now, Lyney just appreciates the way your piercing gaze cuts through him and how you nearly beckon him with your body. Try, if you dare.
Lyney doesn’t want to show off; he wants to catch you off guard. He performs the same trick as last time—he disappears and materializes from thin air to your back. It doesn’t work, as he expected, but you’re now wary of his weapon.
Lyney blows a little air to your ear; you yelp and flutter away from him. Lyney uses this opportunity to hold your polearm down with his free arm. He flicks his hand and traps your back onto his chest with an arrow to your neck.
“What the hell?” You breathe sharply, your throat brushing against the shaft of his arrow, “I don’t think this is how you use an arrow.”
“How am I supposed to win without a little bend to the rules?”
You frown at him, your face upside down in his view. “That was unfair.”
“I have to be if I want to beat you.”
You laugh. Lyney feels the shake of your body pressed against him, and he’s entranced. He wants this, over and over again—you could numb him until he can’t breathe, and still, he wouldn’t let this go.
You’re glowing. This is exactly what Lyney wanted to see. If you were still keeping a wall up, then he would have to keep talking your language.
You tap his arm twice. Lyney loosens his grip and tries to calm himself. If you turn to look at him, you’d laugh for an entirely different reason—his face is too red. He decides to pick your weapon up instead but pauses at the sight of it. It looks old. It’s to the point where it shouldn’t even be used.
Lyney realizes it looks strangely familiar. “Is this the same one from the House?”
You stretch your arms. “Oh, that? Yeah, I still use it.”
“That’s dangerous.” Lyney grabs your hand and studies the red scratches on your palm. It’s littered with scars.
You tug your hand away. “That’s just because I was handling flowers—some of them have nasty thorns, you know.“
Lyney lifts an eyebrow. “Really, now? I’m getting you a new one.”
“What— It was actually from flowers! And I don’t want to owe you anything.”
“That’s sweet,” Lyney says breezily, mentally filing through connections he might have to gift you the perfect weapon—so perfect that you couldn’t resist. “I’ll get you a new one. Does Master Childe not provide equipment for his recruits?”
“Fine, suit yourself. It’s your money.”
Lyney grins. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“But let me keep it,” you say, reaching for it. “That polearm still means a lot to me.”
“Of course.” Lyney smiles and tosses it back to you. “So you work for Master Childe? Is that why you and the Traveler are close?”
Your face scrunches in confusion. “You ask too many questions. Mind your own Harbinger, will you?”
“That was your ‘Father’, too.”
The atmosphere goes a little cold. “Did she send you to this? To talk to me?”
“No, of course not,” Lyney says. “And if ‘Father’ sent me, I wouldn’t have gone. This is all out of my own will.”
It seems you’re strangely keen on avoiding the topic of ‘Father’. And Aether, too, unfortunately. At least Lyney could tell that there was truth to your confession about pride. If he were in your shoes, he would’ve felt the same.
“You know, I never wanted to be her successor,” Lyney says. Your shoulder stiffens. You turn to him, watching his expression closely. Lyney continues, allowing for his expression to be open. “Our fight was just a misunderstanding—I never intended to take anything from you.”
“Right,” you say quietly. You sound wounded.
“I’m sorry,” Lyney says.
“Don’t be sorry. None of it was you,” you sigh. “I told you, didn’t I?” Your eyes then narrow on his lips. “Are you hiding something? I don’t like the look on your face.”
“What?” Lyney chuckles, unsure. “I’m just smiling?”
“Yeah. It looks fake. You look weird smiling like that.”
Lyney feels his heart drop. He feels as if he was charged over by a strike of lightning. And then he laughs, because of course, if he knew you better than anyone, you’d also do to him.
“You make me swoon,” he says dreamily, tugging on your gown as if pawing for it like a cat.
“You haven’t changed much,” you tell him, glancing down at his arms as they curve around you, like before. Like they’ve made a home for themselves there.
“You’ve changed in some ways,” Lyney hums appreciatively, eyeing you.
“Gross!” You slap his arm in hopes of freeing you, but he doesn’t budge. “What are you doing? Let go.”
He grins brightly, and his cheeks ache faintly. He has missed this so, so much. “Still both bark and bite, though.”
“Is this why most of your audience were women? Is this how your shows are always sold out?” you ask, gesturing to how there are no inches between your clothes.
Lyney smiles, less softer, more suggestive. “What? You think I sweet-talk them into buying tickets like this? You think that’d work?”
He curls his arms tighter and draws nearer, your breath on his face. He knows he won when he hears and feels it audibly hitching. Your eyes narrow, hands moving to his arms as if prepared to push him off if he moves any closer.
Lyney bursts out laughing. “Well, I won’t lie and tell you that some of our loyal fans are those who fell for my charm, but, chérie, did you already forget my whole speech about loyalty? I’m hurt.”
“You can’t expect me to believe that,” you huff. Lyney doesn’t mind how he feels it gust against his skin. It makes this all the more real: you, in his arms, living and breathing, and thankfully not pulling away. “You magicians and your fabricated lies.”
“No faith in me whatsoever,” Lyney sighs, but deep down, he’s thoroughly enjoying how you’re acting like his jealous girlfriend. You’re so cute.
“You would know if I was lying to your face, trust me,” he says.
He doesn’t know why, but it took your soft expression, your palms on his chest, your skin brushing against his, to understand that Lynette was right: he could never hate you. He hated how you disappeared without a trace and came back without warning. He hated how you were still as closed off and wary of him as you were on the first day he met you. But this all led you back to him—how could he ever not be grateful for it?
Lyney pulls back, and as much as it pains him to do so, that sad look on your face hurts him even more. He scans his surroundings and brightens.
“Lyney?” you ask, watching as he scrambles over to a bush growing by a pillar.
He plucks a beautiful flower from it and hands them to you. It’s a Marcotte, bright and beautiful. No theatrical tricks. You watched it happen.
“You’re trying too hard to win me back,” you murmur. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Did you have to do anything? I just want to do it,” Lyney says, his voice equally quiet.
It’s just the two of you outside of the city, with the wind whipping through the grass, the world falling hushed enough for Lyney to pick up the faint beat of your heart. You’re silent, thinking deeply, Lyney can tell. He doesn’t want to interrupt, content with figuring out the complicated expressions on your face as you stare at the flower.
“Idiot,” you say, pushing a finger to the space between his brows. “You’re too soft for your line of work. Hey, tell me, what has the House been up to anyway?”
Lyney pauses. “You’re not aware of it already?”
“Well, no, not really,” you say nervously. “I haven’t been paying too close attention. And I haven’t heard anything about the House in years.”
He smiles. “Don’t worry. We’re not up to anything right now.”
It wasn’t a total lie, at least.
By the time Lyney returns home, the lights inside are switched off. The curtains haven’t been drawn, allowing for the moonlight to pour in and illuminate Lynette sitting on the couch, her eyes snapping to him instantly.
“She’s hiding something,” Lyney says, locking the door with a troubled expression. “I just don’t know what. I can’t start looking into it if I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
“I suppose there would’ve been something up,” Lynette sighs, crossing her legs. “Have you asked why she’s close with the Traveler?”
“I didn’t get a good answer.” Lyney flings his hat aside. “Have you found anything good?”
“Garrick knew something.” Garrick is one of their magic crew, helping Lyney perform seamlessly. “He told me that he recognized Y/N milling about—but it wasn’t just recently. He told me that he swore he’d seen her before, just in Fontaine City, months before the show.”
“Interesting,” Lyney murmurs, his brows drawn together. He’ll have to think about that later.
Lynette looks at her brother, her eyes carefully blank. “Are you sure doing this won’t drive her away again?”
Behind Lyney, the moonlight scatters all over. It is a little hard to tell what face he’s making. “I’m doing this exactly because I’m trying not to drive her away.”
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YAAAAAYYY NEW CHAPTER!!!!!!! more lyney and reader interactions!!!!!!!!!1 more of the siblings ! !! <333 TYSM FOR READING, and, as always, lmk what u think <3
but before you go!! once again we are blessed with fanart but this time with emanami too!
look at her little doodles of this chapter its so CUTE
AND OF COURSE. AKAGI'S LYNEY!!! check this out he looks so fine
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