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b0xerdancer-writes · 1 month

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It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 6

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that he's already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander, cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol, parental abuse, death, murder, arguing. Not proofread.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,644

Notes: Let the ball begin.

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A few weeks later I awoke to a soft knock on my bedroom door. I had been sleeping soundly with the small hound curled into my side, however the small knock was enough to wake her up. I had named her Brandy like the drink my mate was so fond of, she stretched and licked my face to wake me further just as the door squeaked open. Lucien laughed as I groaned and picked Brandy up off of me.

Wait…

Lucien?

Lucien!

Lucien had been out in Autumn Court helping Eris with preparations for the festival for about a week and a half now. His return was a surprise to me and I shot up from the comfy spot I had created.

“Lucien! What the fuck? When did you get back? You arse! You could have told me you’d be back today, I would have had breakfast made!” I growled at him, had he not had Brandy tucked into his arms I would have chucked a pillow at his face.

He laughed back at me and smiled brightly, his hair pulled up in a messy bun and dressed in a cream colored sweater, some comfy loose flowy pants that poofed around his knees from his riding boots, a small tabard for the dagger i had gifted him the first birthday he had that I had seen him since he had escaped to the Spring court. He smiled brightly and looked around my room where gift bag upon gift bag was piled up.

“We finished preparations a day earlier so Eris sent me back here to make sure everything was good and you were ready for tomorrow, He just got his suit last week and didn't need to get it altered by the way. I see he got a bit carried away with his little gifts.” He scratched brandy behind her floppy little ears and let out a small chuckle as she whined whenever he stopped.

“Honestly these are all from throughout the week you've been gone. I just haven't had a chance to go through all of them yet. I mean do we have anything to do today? You could help me, Luc!” I tilted my head at him and he sat Brandy on the floor.

“Well then let's get to it we have a lot to go through, I’ll go get us some coffee and some breakfast sweets from that bakery you like down the road, while you get dressed and ready for the day.” He dismissed himself from the room and I could hear the click of his boots on the floor as he made his way back to the front of the house.

“Hey Luc? Can you take Brandy on her morning walk since you're going out?” I yelled down after him and Brandy barked excitedly.

“Yep! I got you sister!” He whistled for Brandy who raced out of the room after the ginger male.

I heard the jingle of him clipping her leash followed by the click of the door shut. I forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up for the lazy day, I moved my hair from my face and slipped into my closet. Once I had changed into some comfy clothes I sat criss-cross on the floor and began digging into one of the bags, the dress I would be wearing tomorrow was neatly hung on my closet door and was a looming reminder of what tomorrow could mean for me and Eris. Lucien returned just as I was beginning to sink into my own thoughts, Brandy was the first to greet me as she climbed her way into my lap. Lucien sat our two cups of coffee on my vanity table and joined me criss-cross on the floor.

The three of us went through bag after bag of gifts, Brandy helping the best she could by being our clean-up team: Her job? To tear up every loose scrap of tissue or wrapping paper that didn't stay in the distinct pile me and Lucien had created. The gifts were unpredictable, the variety too large to guess, still Lucien and I tried our best. So far it had ranged everything from a bottle of wine and nice glasses to drink from and small pieces of jewelry to toys for Brandy, decor pieces to make the small apartment more obviously themed like the Autumn Court, and some very obviously expensive pieces like the last bag I had just opened. Wrapped in shimmery copper paper and tied with a dark green bow, the box was light and Lucien hummed loudly.

“What do you think it is?” He chirped

“Hmmmm, my guess is going to be something for the dance tomorrow, it's the newest present that just came in yesterday.” I hummed back in response.

Pulling the large bow, it untied itself effortlessly, I removed the lid. Just as quickly as I had peaked inside I slammed the lid closed. Lucien looked up at me startled.

“What is it?” He leaned forward trying to grab the box from me to peek inside himself. I swatted his hand and hissed.

He pulled his hand back with a faux-shocked look on his face as he gaped at me. I opened the box again and stared at the jewelry within it. Lucien stared at me expectantly and I tossed the lid into the trash pile, Brandy growling at it as it almost fell out.

“No… he didnt.”Lucien gasped and covered his mouth, the metal eye whirring as his eyes widened.

My eyes darted between the box and Lucien.

“Oh you have him hooked. Seriously hooked.” Lucien mumbled and grabbed a sip from his coffee.

“What do you mean Lucien?” I hissed.

“That, sister, is from the vaults of the autumn court. I saw it earlier this week when I went down there with Eris looking for a piece of art he wanted hung up in the main hall for the dance.”

He murmured as he took another sip to be dramatic.

“Oh.”I mumbled, stunned.

“Oh is right, he's wrapped around your finger hun.” Brandy deposited one of her new toys in his lap and he threw it out in the hall for her.

In the box, nestled on a silky pillow the same color as the bow, was a gold diadem decorated in branches and leaves with a ruby in the center of the point that came between your brows and it somehow matched the cuffs and necklace he had bought me earlier. Beside it was a folded note, written in the familiar cursive scrawl I knew as Eris.

“All preparations have been completed for the festival, Lucien has been a major help in setting everything up while I've been in meeting after meeting. I’m sure you are able to recognize this piece is older, I spied it while in the vaults with Lucien, while I admit it was not my intention at the time to be in the vaults for this piece and I was in fact there for an ancient painting that has been passed down in my family. After I had left the vaults the piece you hold now refused to leave my mind, I imagined how well it would match the cuffs and necklace you will be wearing with your dress for the festival in two days time, I would be honored if you wore this with those accessories as well. It would send a message to all my advisors and those I wish to see replaced, I know it seems a lot and it will take everyone by surprise to see you wear a crown from autumn but my mother had it crafted as a gift for whatever female I decided I was going to court, so it will see its use in you. I will be forced to wear my own similar crown due to my duties as High Lord, so it will make us match even more and present a further unified front to the people of my court who doubt me and pressure me into taking a wife. I thank you in advance my dear. Love, Eris.” I read aloud.

Lucien stared back at me with wide eyes as he prompted my response.

I didn't give one, simply picked up the diadem and rose to my feet. I stood in front of the mirror on my vanity and placed the small gold band on my head, then looked at Lucien with tears in my eyes. He smiled sadly.

“You’ll look like a High Lady tomorrow. Mother save him, Eris will have you decorated and on display more than Rhys does with Feyre.” He huffed with the slightest smile.

I took the crown off and gently sat it on my vanity next to the other jewelry I would be dressed in tomorrow. “Honestly Luc… I think I’m okay with that. I mean it will get suspicion off of Eris, and show him the lengths I'm willing to go for him. Fuck, maybe it will even cause the bond to snap for him, a girl can hope right? If it doesn't go well then I still get to have my fun and imagine what it would be like, right Luc?” I mused at him, sadly at first but then excitedly as I processed the information myself.

He simply smirked at me. “Sure thing, Sister. All I’m saying is, I called it~”

We spent the rest of the evening in the living room burning the tissue paper in the fireplace, eventually Lucien stood and announced he was going to start making dinner. Our night stayed uneventful as we both took our places either side of the table to eat, Lucien eventually herding me to his room to show me the outfit he would be wearing and to show me the trinkets he had brought back himself. Brandy eventually stumbled into the room tripping on her own ears with a big yawn, I collected her from the floor and she whined softly, eagerly awaiting bed.

Lucien chuckled as I dismissed both Brandy and myself from the room, he wished us both a goodnight and closed the door behind us. I had installed steps for Brandy, courtesy of Lucien, so she could climb up and down from my bed as she wished; however due to her size and tendency to trip on her own ears from time to time, often enough I just picked her up to help her up and down. I had sat her in a faux-fur blanket and she began immediately curling into a ball. I couldn't blame her, tomorrow was going to be a long day and she would be joining me; Eris had gifted her an elegant collar that had been lined with fur padding, a deep wine red collar that had small maple leaves embroidered into it, and a little copper maple leaf tag hung from it. I changed into a night slip and joined her in the warm covers, the second I laid down she curled into my side and I dismissed the faelights.

I awoke earlier than I normally did, the dark of the sky just beginning to dim, to find Lucien finishing up his hair in the mirror and he offered to take Brandy out for her morning walk while I got ready myself. Passing him the sleepy pup, he gave me a soft smile and disappeared down the dim hallway, only lit up by one small faelight we used to make sure we didn't trip on any of Brandy’s toys when it was dark inside the house. I slipped into the bathroom around him and leaned down to draw a bath, only to find the bath freshly drawn and warmed to the perfect temperature. Lucien and I had this habit, since we knew the others daily routine so well, from small things like fresh cups of coffee prepared to the perfect temperature with all the fixings in it we had wanted to things such as this, all in favor of making the others day easier for them; it had come to us naturally being roommates for awhile now and even before that when he was small, we would exchange small trinkets like something he found in the gardens and I would bring him a treat from Night Court the next time I saw him.

Lucien returned about half an hour later, a few minutes after I had decided to finally leave the warmth of the bath, now feeling clean and fresh enough to look like the soon-to-be high lady Eris was wanting me to play. I wrapped a fluffy towel around me and slid into my room, slipping on my undergarments and finally stepping into the A-line skirt I had fallen in love with weeks ago.

Lucien knocked softly at the door. “Will you need any help with fastening the dress closed Sister?”

Lucien’s new nickname for me rarely caught me off guard anymore unless he was using it to tease me for what he claimed was Eris’s obvious affections.

“Yes please, actually I could use it now.” I chirpped over my shoulder.

The door clicked open and Lucien stepped in quietly and began fiddling with the clasps on the back. “You know all the high lords will be there tonight right? It's the first holiday or festival hosted in the court since Eris became High Lord. All eyes will be on you two.”

I could hear his genuine worry for me in his voice. “I know Luc, I’ll be okay, Eris will be okay. We’ve got this handled.” I smiled over my shoulder at him and he offered me a unsure smile back,

“I know,” he sighed “I just worry about you two, you two are some of the only family I have, save for Jurian and Vassa.”

I raised my brow at him, he hadn’t mentioned any dealings with the two recently, though I knew the affections he harbored for the two when they comforted after Tamlin sent all of his stuff to the manor south of the Spring Court.

“Will they be there today or tonight as well?” I offered him the ability to further discuss them.

“They should be, during the day at least. That's why we expanded the festival partially, so Vassa could also enjoy it while it also making a statement about Eris’s dedication to the court.” he seemed to brighten up a bit as he got distracted talking about the two.

He sat on the bed and Brandy scrambled to try and climb up the stairs, but when she failed and tripped over her ears Lucien ultimately ended up moving her into his lap. He continued to ramble about some need to know stuff that was seen as customary in the Autumn Court, amongst other subjects, I slipped on the golden cuffs, clasped the necklace around my neck and straightened it out, followed by the ring Eris had gifted me. I slipped on some surprisingly comfortable yet stylish black pumps that had gold detailing on the heels. I grabbed the collar from my vanity and turned to where Lucien was holding Brandy, he unclasped her old collar with a loud gasp and she leapt from his lap, bounding across my bed we both laughed at her antics until she finally calmed and I was able to slip the new one on around her neck.

Lucien stood and ushered me into the vanity chair, he refused to let me do my own hair for events if he had any say in it. He lost himself in styling it before finally setting the golden diadem on my head with a nod, he picked up the container of kohl I had and began lining my eyes with it. Once he had finished, we clipped Brandy into her leash and I picked her up in my arms, she seemed so proud of her new collar. We slipped from our apartment and the wards of the locks clicked into place behind us, he helped me down the stairs slowly making sure none of the tulle or silk got caught. Once we were on the sidewalk I realized the many citizens of Velaris that were out walking around, the sun now early in the sky still well before noon, had their eyes on me and were whispering back and forth with each other with eager smiles on their faces. I knew what they were thinking, Lucien had graciously pointed it out to me yesterday, Oh how I was going to enjoy the look on Rhys’s face when he saw me tucked into Eris’s side; Azriel would probably be told to take a breather by Rhys unless they brought Elain, she might be able to keep him calm.

Lucien tucked me and Brandy into his side, though I could have winnowed us myself Lucien was adamant about me preserving my energy as I ‘have a long day ahead’. Much Like Eris’s winnowing Lucien’s was warm like the caress of heat you would get from sitting beside a bon-fire, but it was unique in itself as it felt like it glittered or shined, that instead of bending the world around him the light and sun rays bent to his whim. Before I could even blink we had appeared in the Autumn Court, the smell of spices and cider filled the air and filled me with a warm familiarity that made my chest ache for Eris. It was only after I stepped out of Lucien’s side that I realized where we stood, the small clearing where me and Eris had once called our sanctuary had been turned into a private garden, a large hedge lined the outer edge of the clearing and led towards the forest house a short distance away.

Only then as I looked around did I realize Eris had the entire clearing decorated in soft fae lights, a sculpted bench sat in the place the old wooden log had, the sir had a soft chill to it and reminded me why I loved this place as much as I did. Lucien stiffened beside me as I sat Brandy on the forest floor, leash clipped neatly to the padded collar, she barked happily in the way of the opening in the hedge that led towards the house.

When my attention drifted towards the gorgeously carved archway, there stood Eris wide-eyed in a suit that matched my dress: primarily black, with the same flame effect of my underskirt on his waist coat. I swallowed sharply and smiled at him, my chest pounded and the bond throbbed with how perfect he looked, with how obvious it would be to all others he was mine.

He gathered his composure and stepped forward, hugging Lucien who dismissed himself through the way Eris had just come, then turned to me and brought my hand to his lips and he bowed softly.

“Cauldron save me, you look gorgeous, just the image I wished to present to my court. Thank you for doing this my lady.”

I smiled softly, feeling heat begin to creep into my face and a throb in my chest. “Mother above Eris, you call me gorgeous yet have you looked in a mirror? You are the epitome of a High Lord!”

He smiled back at me softly, pulling me into a tight hug he sighed softly. “No I mean it Darling, Thank You, tonight would have been so much harder without you beside me. At least now I’ll avoid having to deal with my father’s advisors barking at me to keep my eyes peeled for a pretty female.”

I leaned my head against his chest and sighed, taking in his warm scent. “No worries Eris, like I promised, I’m here if you need me. No matter what. You need me to face every high lord in Prythian all at the same time while posing as your girl? So be it I’ll deal with their eyes on me, no prob.”

I heard him chuckle softly and relax in my arms, Brandy however was not pleased with the fact she was not getting any attention and was adamant about letting us know it. He released me from his hold and looked down at the small hound, with his hands on his hips.

“I hear you mam!” He turned back to me again. “What did you end up naming her?” he kneeled down and scratched behind her long ears.

“Brandy.” I smiled gently watching the scene unfold in front of me.

He snorted as he giggled, Brandy moving to nibble at his hand. “Fitting, she's got the spice of a fire brandy. And it's good to see the collar fits her.”

He knelt there petting the small pup, while looking her over. “No health issues? No training issues?”

I shook my head. “No, I haven't had any issues with her at all. She's been well behaved.”

He smiled and Brandy rolled over onto her belly. “Good, I figured she'd be a good blood line, her sire was Maple’s great-great grandpup.”

I smiled brightly at the two on the forest floor. “I thought I recognized the spunk.”

We both laughed and he rose from the floor, Brandy in his arms happily trying to get to his face, tongue lolling out and settling for just licking at the exposed skin of his arm. I took her from his arms and he offered me his arm, I linked mine and in unison we both took a deep breath.

“To the promise we made all those years ago to never leave the other alone?” He looked down at me out of the corner of his eye.

I nodded. “To the leaves of Maple that were the only beings to hear our promise.”

He nodded back at me and squared his shoulders. All those years ago, when we had made the deal that initially was just him asking to never be left alone, I had extended it to be either way: that We would never leave the Other alone. It had been just us and the trees that day, and as we sealed the deal we had spoken those words to each other for the first time; a sharp sting followed by a dull throbbing on my ankle led me to discover the sight of two small maple leaves intertwined with eachother. Eris had grasped at his protruding hip bone just below where his belt was clasped around his waist, the location of his tattoo had caused my face to heat, just the thought of it today caused blood to rush to my face.

In my dedication to Eris as my mate I had never chased after another male, had no interest in them either really. Of course I knew what would be asked of me as his wife, if had come to that at that time, but all I had ever really seen was my brothers after training, or the low slung pants of male’s at Rita’s that revealed just a little too much for my liking. It had often caused me to lose interest in the current objective that led to me seeing the other males, the bond aching in my chest reminding me of loyalty to Eris, often caused me to return to my room or apartment and escape into the books either within the library or in later years what Lucien and I had collected within our little apartment. Every time we echoed the promise we had made back in the day, I was reminded very quickly of the tattoo on my ankle and the same one on his hip. I felt the heat in my face extended to my pointed ears as my eyes glanced over where the concealed tattoo would be before I straightened my back and looked forward.

Tonight would be hard, I decided. With Eris looking so perfect, the ache of want that had settled in my chest with a slow throb, and the heat in my face and chest that slowly moved lower and lower every time I glanced at Eris by my side. The crunch of fallen leaves under my heels drew me back to reality as we neared the gardens of the first house, I could hear music and laughter from within the house. The halls had been closed off in a way Eris and I could make a grand entrance together through the second entrance into the grand ballroom.

Our steps echoed against the halls as we walked in silence through the now warm halls of the Forest house, till we stopped right in front of a set of large wooden doors. The music and laughter was obvious on the other side of it, two guards looked back and forth between each other and then to Eris.

Eris looked down at me with a worried smile. “Ready?”

“Ready.”I echoed.

We both nodded at each other and then Eris nodded at the guards. Two finely dressed males with simple leathers on, a helmet in one arm and a sheathed blade at either side. They knocked firmly on the door once, the music and chatter from the other side becoming quiet as I heard a loud booming voice clear their throat.

“Introducing our High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra,” soft cheering erupted but was quickly silenced again as the male continued, murmurs replaced the cheering.

“And the female he has declared he will be courting: The Princess of Night Court herself!” Whoops and hollers could be heard as the doors began opening slowly.

Eris and I took a deep breath, Brandy made herself comfortable yet regal looking in one of my arms. I let Eris lead us into the room of Prythian residents. Eris nodded and mouthed a thanks to the small male I now realized was the announcer. We came to a stop a few steps in front of the announcer, and Eris cleared his own throat unlinking his arm with mine.

“Thank you all for being here, I simply wanted to start this celebration with a quick speech.” The way the light of the grand glass chandelier hit him I was breathless, he seemed like the only male in the room as he drew everyone's attention to him.

“As many of you know this is the first holiday I will be celebrating with you all as High Lord, but I would not have been able to do it if it wasn't for the female at my side and my dear brother Lucien, both of you helped me greatly even if you don’t know it. Secondly, I would like to thank the citizens of Autumn Court for believing in me as their new High Lord. My goal from the second I took over the throne has been to reform this court and with your help and dedication I have been able to begin working in that direction. Think tonight not only as a celebration of a holiday but also as a celebration for your hard work. Now please let me not continue to ramble on because I will with thanking you for every little thing that has made tonight possible, and continue your celebrations.” Cheers erupted and I smiled sweetly at Eris as I extended my hand to him which he took eagerly, Brandy cheering him on with her own little howls and bays.

A servant brought around small champagne flutes, both of us taking one as we clinked them together.

“To tonight?” I chirped.

“To us.” Eris echoed my tone, and we both took a sip from the glasses in our hands.

No, tonight wouldn’t be as difficult as I had thought, tonight would be fantastic. I had Eris at my side after all and if all the eyes on us had any indication how it was going so far, it was working.

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbatboydreams @abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638 @azriels-mate2 @sassyslytherinshai

@sparksandstarss @pandabiiissh @saltedcoffeescotch @cirwin2013

@minnieoo @easchies @melsunshine

@sweetcarolina-24 @florenceivy @inloveallthetime

@azrielsmate3 @witchymomfrien @eternallyelvish

@mybestfriendmademe

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction

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juletheghoul · 9 months

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Chores

AN: So, things got in the way - as they usually do and I couldn't post on Sunday. Hopefully this makes up for it! This is the third installment, part one is The Party, and part two is The Date. This is totally unbeta’d, so expect a few mistakes lol. Hope you enjoy xox.

Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings; piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy like the champion he is, a tiny little ball tug lol, creampie, let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 2.1k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

He’d been at your place the whole weekend, most of the week too. There were more and more of his things popping up amongst yours, a flannel draped over the back of your couch, his smaller toolbox near your front door, a toothbrush plopped in the cup beside yours on the sink. You saw them all, and relished the way they made your insides feel all warm and fuzzy. Relished how he managed to make you feel safe with his jacket hanging on the coat rack and his big work boots by the door.

His presence in your home, in your life—your bed, was so welcome. Necessary even.

Crucial.

It had been months since that first date, when the dinner reservation had been missed, replaced with ordering in and a night full of sex and laughter. Months of learning everything there was to learn about one another; like the way he took his coffee. Or the fact that he snored, even though he insisted that he didn’t. You’ve learned that he’s thoughtful. He notices, he listens.

He’s a quick study, both inside and outside the bedroom.

He’s an avid reader. He wears glasses.

He prefers action movies and thrillers, grumbles playfully when you put on a romcom but always gets invested, nonetheless. He’s a great cook, but he can’t bake for shit.

You’ve learned that despite already having been married, he’d been an intensely lonely man.

You watch him from your place at the table, enjoying the breakfast he’d made for the two of you. The messy halo that is his hair, combined with the worn cotton of his t-shirt make him almost irresistible.

“Anything you want to do today?” He smiles, catching you staring.

“I have a few things in mind.” You smile back. “Laundry’s piling up, some groceries definitely wouldn’t hurt.”

He hums around a sip of coffee.

“You got a list? I can go for you.” Your mouth cracks open with a smile.

“You’d go for me?” You reach your hand over towards him and he takes it instantly, his dimple making its first appearance of the day.

“Of course, baby. Make me a list, I’ll go, while you start the laundry.” He pulls you gently from where you sit and you let him guide you around the table to sit across his knees. “Of course—“ He skims the tip of his nose along the column of your throat, his lips pressing soft kisses as his arms wrap around you oh so comfortingly. “It’ll cost you.”

“Oh, and just what exactly is it gonna cost me?” You wrap your arms around his neck, curling your fingers into the thick waves of hair at the back of his head.

“I haven’t decided yet.” His lips are petal soft against the exposed skin of your shoulder. “Maybe I wanna spread you out and use my tongue, just how you like.” You shiver at the tone of his words, pressing yourself closer.

“Now how am I supposed to get anything done when you say things like that?” You pull his face up to kiss him, soft and sweet.

“Because it’s better when you wait a little, you get all wet thinking about it, just how I like.” He presses his lips to yours, chaste for a moment before slanting his head to kiss you properly and lick into your mouth, pulling a moan from somewhere in your throat.

He pulls away just as quick as he started.

“Okay, let’s do what we have to do.” He smiles, and you try to remember how to function.

The machine vibrates against your hip, the spin cycle doing its thing and while you wait, you think of him. You practically feel him inside, the stretch of him, the way he likes to hold your thighs open for his tongue. It’s enough to make you hum dreamily, to make you smile, to make you drip into your panties.

The blissed-out smile shifts into a frustrated eye roll.

That tease, with the lingering kiss he’d laid on you at the door, the meaty grab of your ass before jogging out to his truck–grocery list in hand. The machine chimes, and you turn away from your steamy thoughts with a sigh, trying–and failing–to focus on the task at hand.

You catch him smiling as he tucks the purchases away. He notices, but never acknowledges the way you’re ogling him. He knows his words had the desired effect, and can see it in the way your hands fidget, the way you practically vibrate.

“How’s the laundry coming along?” the innocent words do not match the sultry tone of his voice in the slightest. He thinks he’s so fucking slick, and most of the time he is but you know he’s just as wound up as you are. You can see it too, the way his eyes have tracked your every movement since he stepped through the door–the way his thumb swipes across his bottom lip every so often.

“Last load is in the dryer.” Your voice is light, and you wait for him to turn to look at you before walking out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom, knowing in your heart he’ll follow.

You aren’t in the bedroom ten minutes before he proves you right, finding you undressing casually.

“What are you doing, baby?” He stands at the door, arms crossed and leaning against the frame.

“I’m going to lay here, naked, and spread out–just how you wanted me.” You toss discarded clothing items into the laundry basket as you speak to him, smiling at the hungry look on his face, “isn’t that what you said?” You unclip your bra, his gaze raking over you greedily as he moves to join you. You watch him now, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as those big hands you love pull his soft cotton t-shirt up and off, revealing that golden skin you can practically taste.

“Are you now?” He asks even as he watches you scoot back, his tongue dipping out to wet his lip as your legs drop open, showing him just how right he was about the state you’d be in. “God, I can see how fucking wet you are from here.” He already sounds wrecked, his voice dripping in lust, in love.

You smile from your place on the bed, leaning on one elbow while your other hand slides down to where his eyes are locked, fingers dipping into the pool of slick with his name on it to give your clit a quick, delicious swirl.

“All yours Frankie, baby.” You spread the lips of your sex open and he groans, now frantic to kick his layers away in his haste to reach you.

He all but growls, his hand wrapping around the reddened tip of his cock, giving it a couple of strokes before he falls into the bed, and your arms.

There is no preamble in his kiss, no warm up, no chastity. His tongue is obscene, it seeks out yours and lays down the law. His kiss heats your blood, it makes your pussy throb, makes you all slippery for him. It claims you for his own every single time and when he moves his mouth down to your jaw, your neck and further down still, it leaves you drunk.

Your fingers run through his hair when he latches onto one nipple, and then the other, teasing you further still.

“God–I wanted this all fucking day–” You can’t help but gasp when he uses his teeth, the tiny edge of pain heightening the arousal, a boyish grin on his face as his tongue soothes.

“I know baby, me too, thought about this–” He positions you how he wants you, legs up, bent and open. His hands pull you closer to his mouth, roughly and he stares at your cunt like it’s the gates of heaven, “been daydreaming about tasting you all fucking day.” He dives in, his tongue slipping in as far as he can to drink you down from the source before honing in on the center of your universe.

Just like his mouth lays claim to yours when he kisses you, his tongue lays claim to your cunt when he eats it. He relishes it, savors it. For him it’s an art, and he’s a prodigy.

It’s embarrassing how fast he manages to have you mewling.

His fingers spread your lips open, exposing the plump little jewel of your pleasure for his mouth. He smiles before letting his saliva drip onto it, chasing it with tongue.

“Oh fuck–” his rhythm is perfect, precise, the wet steady glide of his tongue rocketing you towards your orgasm much faster than he had any right to and when his fingers slide in to slowly tap tap tap at the spot only he ever seems to find, your universe explodes. The orgasm rips through you like a sunburst, lighting up all of the nerves in your body as you float away.

He slows, but doesn’t stop.

It’s less intense, but no less passionate, his tongue moving again to drink your release down, moving away only to lick your slick off of his fingers. He places a kiss on your mound, another on your belly, trailing them up and stopping to once again give your breasts the attention they deserve.

“Good?” He skims his nose along your neck, waiting until the gears of your mind start up again.

“Uh-huh,” Your arms feel heavy but you need him closer and you wrap them around his neck to pull his mouth towards yours, “you always make it so good.” you can taste yourself in his kiss and it always gives you a thrill. “How do you want me?”

“On your knees.” He scoots back, his hands landing heavy on your hips to get you where he wants you, and despite him having turned your legs to jelly, you scramble to get there.

His palm lands a solid crack on the cheek of your ass and you let out a breathless laugh, his eagerness to slip inside the slick fist of your pussy ramping up your arousal once more. He doesn’t disappoint, he never does.

Even with the stretch of his fingers, even with the way you’ve been aching for this all day, it’s intense.

“There it fucking is,” your heart races, the sound of his voice, the fucked out tone of it is enough to make you moan, “how do you always feel so fucking good, huh?” He punctuates his question with a harder thrust, the blunt tip of his cock practically hitting your womb.

You have no words for him, all you can do is press your face into the mattress and focus on the bruising grip of his hands on your hips, on the wet sounds between your legs, on the way your nipples rub against the rumpled sheets beneath you.

“No words for me?” He’s cocky, in more ways than one as he thrusts into you hard enough to make your flesh bounce. “This what you wanted?” his words are breathless, but his rhythm is steady, “You wanted my big dick huh baby?” you moan because yes, this is exactly what you wanted.

He doesn’t falter as he leans forward, draping himself over your back, his hand sliding around from your hip to swirl around your clit and the effect is almost instant. Your legs tense as he pulls a shorter, but more intense climax out of you.

“That’s it, get me all fucking wet.” He breathes the words into your shoulder, and now he’s somehow pressing closer, getting as deep as he can get.

His breath ghosts along your skin where his face is pressed against your shoulder, raising goosebumps in its wake and all you want in this moment is to have him fall apart. His strokes are steady as the idea pops into your head and you’re almost drunk on the effect it’ll have on him. You reach down between your legs and gently grab his balls, tugging at them softly.

It’s like pressing a button, and he explodes inside you. You relish the punched-out groan he lets out when he fills you with his come, grinding it deep as he collapses onto your back.

It takes him a minute to catch his breath.

“Good?” You ask him, mirroring his tone from earlier and he lets out a breathless laugh.

“Yes, you fucking got me.” He pulls out with a hiss and lays next to you, a blissed out smile on his face, letting out a deep breath before pulling you to lay your head onto his chest. Golden hour shines through the cracks in the curtains, and the comforting thump thump thump of his heart under your ear lulls you, makes you tired and sleepy. He hums, his heart slowing down and now he’s tired too, and the two of you fall asleep together, tangled up and comfortable.

Tag list: @foli-vora @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @wheresarizona @sherala007 @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @quica-quica-quica @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @deadhumourist @felicisimor @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @send-me-to-valhalla @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @oliviajdjarin @actuallyanita @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x @naiomiwinchester @blazedprince @rosymythologies @avidreader73 @mr-underhills-things @avengersfan25 @tastygoldentaters @nyotamalfoy @mymindfuckery

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco my love #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie x reader #Frankie x f!reader #triple frontier au #frankie catfish morales

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myymi · 2 months

Text

“Come on, Mangey.” Prim sighed, placing a hand on her hip as she grabbed the bridge of her nose. The mentioned fox tilted his head at the bat. “It's only three letters.”

“I thought he'd get ‘fly’ immediately.” Gnarly grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Considering that's what he does now.”

“He can say feelings just fine, but can't get fly.” Thorn mumbled, shifting slightly against Birdie. The group were relaxing in the treehouse, soaking in the warm sun.

Mangey was curled up in the newest member’s lap, a scruffy blue hedgehog with incredibly messy quills. They'd met him when the little fox had wandered off one day without letting any of them know. The hedgehog had found him asleep in a pile of mud and managed to bring him back to the group safe and sound.

“Maybe he's just not ready yet.” The hedgehog, Spirit, suggested. He was idly scratching the fox's ear, leaning against a tree. “I mean, I couldn't talk until I was thirteen.”

“Really?” Prim asked, let the hand on her nose fall to her side. “What got you talking?”

“I don't think there was a specific thing.” Spirit shrugged, “My brother and sister tried for years to get me to talk. Nothing different happened. I just couldn't talk one day and then the next it was the easiest thing in the world.”

“So you're saying we're gonna have to wait until he's thirteen for him to talk?” Gnarly asked, clearly not happy about waiting.

“Maybe. Or shorter or longer or maybe even never at all.” The teen looked down at the kit in his lap, smiling when he saw him sleepily rub his eyes. “He'll talk again when he's ready. Nothing we can do but wait.”

Mangey let out a squeaky yawn before deciding to fully curl into a ball atop the hedgehog’s lap. The soft petting made him sleepy.

Spirit smiled fondly at the kid, reaching over to grab a piece of fabric to use as a makeshift blanket.

“Guess we can't argue that.” Prim mumbled with a shrug, looking back over her shoulder. “Hangry’s been gone a while. I'm gonna go check on him.”

“I'll come with you.” Thorn decided, already on her feet before the bat could refuse her company. Prim went to question it, but stopped when she noticed Spirit was starting to drift off too.

“You come too, Gnarly.” She quietly said instead, motioning for the echidna to follow. He looked confused, but followed the girls with only a few grumbles.

---

@000marie198 enjoy your fluff <3

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st-danger · 10 months

Note

SAINT I have an idea that I need someone to hear.

Aether asking cumulus or rain to braid dews hair so he can pull on it while fucking him with cumulus or rain watching.

Thank you for your time :) keep doing the devils work <3

Rain runs his fingers through Dew's hair, and waits for Dew to take him fully into his mouth again before grabbing and tugging on it, a sharp shock of pain to force him to moan around his cock. He gets his fingers nicely tangled, blunt nails scratching over his scalp before making a fist and clutching the fine strands.

It draws more noise from Aether than it does from either one of them.

From his right, Aether scrambles to rub himself a little quicker, and Rain goes a little crosseyed at the feel of Dew's forked tongue.

"Would you?" Aether asks.

Rain has no idea what he's talking about. Apologetically, he tells him so. He's too lost in the relentless way Dew is sucking him, cheeks hollowing and orange eyes searing beneath long lashes. Obscene wet noises. Drooling. Dew's being messy enough the spit is dripping down and gathering at the base and slowly making its way to his balls. Leave it to Dew to find a way to make even this, while kneeling on low pile hotel room carpet, look elegant. His stomach is all tight, his brows knit together.

"Braid his hair? For me?" Aether says, cradling his balls in one hand and pulling on his length in short, quick strokes that betray just how needy he is, even if he's good at keeping his voice low and even. Ah, yes, Rain remembers now.

"Whaddya say?" Rain breathes with another firm tug at his scalp. Dews eyes flicker shut, and when he opens them again, they're fixed on Aether. "Wanna look pretty for us?"

"I always look pretty for you," Dew huffs, pulling off for air, jacking Rain lazily while he indulges in a few deep lungfuls of oxygen. He's staring at Aether, and Rain sees the way he drops his gaze to focus on his lap, appraising.

It's a slow and intentional thing, and Aether visibly curls in on himself under the focus with a small, bitten off noise. The corner of Dew’s mouth pulls upward.

"Let me braid it," Rain says, and, gently, pulls his face back to his cock. "Give Aether something to hold while he fucks you, huh?"

Dew gives him a slow downstroke and holds the base, drooling directly onto the purpling head. Rain clenches his teeth when he rubs his palm over, polishing the head and spreading the spit around. For the second time tonight, the gesture makes Aether noisier than Rain.

"Fine," Dew says, and ever the opportunist, "what do I get out of it?"

"I'll lick you out," Aether offers immediately, a little edge of desperation peeking through.

Dew makes a show of considering, tilting his head, and inwardly Rain smiles. It's not an act Dew finds easy to ask for, and the play that accepting it is anything that requires a modicum of thought is simply dramatic, but...of course, Dew will feel better about it if he pretends he has to consider it first. Can't be too eager with it. Rimming already makes him feel weird and ashamed in the best way; surely he can't seem like he's eager for that kind of humiliation.

"I'll make you cum on my tongue," Aether promises, "and you won't be able to stop yourself."

Something dark clouds Dew's face, then, the offer of control being taken from him, being forced to enjoy the act that makes him whine and turn utterly pathetic the answer he was looking for.

"I'll kiss you while he does," Rain says, hitching his hips up so the head of his cock nudges against his lips, impatient. A little rude, really, but he could hardly be accused of being in polite company.

He will pull Dew off just before he cums so he can paint Dew's face. Aether will kiss it off of him while he plaits those soft locks into a fishtail for Aether to hold.

Now, though, Dew's patting his cock against his tongue and he hasn't the brain cells to think too much on any of that.

"First things first," Rain says with a smile, and forces Dew's head back down onto his length.

Again, the answering moan comes from Aether.

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mayfieldss · 1 year

Text

Fake - Isaac Lahey | Part nine

series masterlist

Warnings: language

AN: I'm crying this is the final part, thanks to everyone for sticking with the story, ily all. (New Isaac series coming soon idk...)

Y/N,

I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm an idiot for not seeing it sooner, how you felt about me. And how I feel about you. I don't know how you can love me, I'm annoying. I fidget with everything, and I have a habit of saying too much or in this case, not enough.

I should have told you how I felt sooner, but deep down, I don't think I believed that I deserved to love you. But I do, love you I mean. I'm sorry, that I fucked this up, ruined us. But I'm not sorry that I loved you till I couldn't breathe.

I hate that I can't sit still for more than a minute, it bothers me that I'm so mean sometimes, and I hate that I can't see what's right in front of me. I hate all of my habits, Y/N, but I happen to love you.

I'm sorry,

Isaac.

Isaac didn't know what he was doing. The sky was grey outside as if reflecting his mood to the rest of the world, and his feet carried him back and forth across the carpet of his room. He refused to read back what he wrote on the paper. If he did, it would ruin the compulsiveness of it all. He would hate every word. It would end in piles of paper on the floor, all in little crushed balls, the words they held never good enough. Isaac's first attempt would be the one he would give you. He felt it would be the greatest truth. After all, it was all his wild and rapid thoughts. Editing would ruin the truth in it.

There was a question that plagued Isaac's mind, however. would he hurt you more in doing this? If he gave you the letter, would you truly cast him out of your life forever? Was he clingy, annoying, and needy? He thought about tearing the paper up, ripping it into a million pieces, and never showing you. Never telling you everything on his mind. And then he came to his senses. Not communicating with you had caused this mess in the first place, and not telling you how he felt sooner had torn the both of you apart. Isaac put the letter in an envelope that took forever to find and sealed it inside. He didn't know exactly how he would get the letter to you. He didn't know if he would read it aloud or let you scan the words without him there. He just knew you had to have it.

In the end, after much deliberation, Isaac came to a decision. He had a lacrosse game tonight, a home game that Isaac doubted you would attend. He'd pushed you too far this time, and somehow, he knew you wouldn't be in the stands waiting. It wasn't like the last time you'd planned not to come and then showed up anyway. You weren't coming to this game, no matter how many prayers Isaac sent to the sky above. So, Isaac decided the only chance he had was to slip the letter into your locker. That way, he gave you the choice. You could read it and discover the depth of Isaac's affections, or you could dispose of it and continue on your quest to never speak to Isaac again. Isaac hoped you would give him the chance. If you did, maybe you would find it in yourself to forgive him. Maybe, even love him again.

The letter fell at your feet as people milled around you, heading toward the exits of the school. The day was over, and the rush of people racing to get home, perhaps to prepare for the lacrosse game to come that night, was overwhelming. You watched helplessly as it was trampled over by one, two, three, people, before finally you could reach down and take it in your hands. The paper was crinkled, and there was the light sketch of a muddy shoeprint now across the envelope. Even so, the letter was clearly addressed to you. Your name is messy letters across the back of the envelope. In Isaac's handwriting.

You thought over throwing it away, tossing it back down to the floor where it could be trampled over repeatedly, just as your heart had been whilst you loved Isaac. Your thumb ran across your name on the paper, and even though you were trying your best to leave Isaac behind, this was too intriguing to ignore. Isaac was never good with words unless they came in the form of sarcasm or smart comments. Slowly, you opened the envelope, the edges of it tearing as you tried to remove the content from within. You pulled out the piece of paper from inside and unfolded it carefully as if it were a bomb that could go off any minute. And then, you stood staring.

But once, he'd loved Allison, too. And there was always the chance that he still felt for her as he felt for you now. Second best was something you'd grown used to in Isaac's life, but if this was a time when you got to come first, you weren't going to share the podium. Slowly, you folded the letter and let it slide into the pocket in the back of your jeans. You needed time to think, and though every part of you was reeling, you held composure and made your way to the exit.

Isaac's handwriting, the messy scrawl of his heartfelt thoughts, and the things he felt toward you were laced on the paper. You could hear his voice in your mind as your eyes danced across the words, you could hear him laughing, singing, and shouting as you lent against your locker. Isaac loved you; it was here like a promise on paper, written in bleeding ink that stained the pages of your mind. He loved you. He loved you.

When you arrived home, the temperature dropped significantly. The sun was low, and the heat of it had dispersed from the air, leaving you to feel cold and alone as you made your way inside. Your room was as messy as your mind, and for some reason, you were overcome with the urge to clean it as you thought over the very compelling words Isaac had delivered you.

You could list a million reasons why you should leave Isaac behind, the top on said list being that you'd cried yourself dry over said boy more than once. But then again, that was love. Screaming, crying, and laughing until you were deemed insane, driven mad by affection, and passion. And you were still undeniably in love with the boy. That feeling couldn't simply fade.

By the time your clothes were folded, all your things in their collective places and your bed made, you had in turn made up your mind.

So, with a clean room and a racing heartbeat, you put on your coat and stepped into the cold.

The sun had set by the time Isaac and the rest of the lacrosse team ran onto the field, and as always, they were met by the cheers of their peers, parents, and friends. All but you, of course. Isaac listened hard but came up with nothing. He couldn't hear any trace of you in the stands, under the bleachers or anywhere in his vicinity. You hadn't shown, just as Isaac expected. He didn't deserve your praise and cheers after all. He wasn't your hero anymore, and perhaps he never was.

Scott gives Isaac a look from across the field. The boy knows he's distracted, he can probably sense the depression rolling off of Isaac in waves, and in true Scott fashion, he's concerned. Most likely, Scott and Stiles have already pieced together the puzzle that is Isaac's, broken heart. Maybe they voted on giving Isaac an intervention, a holiday away, or even grief counseling. He wouldn't be surprised, to say the least.

What is the cure for a broken heart? Food? Friends? A good cry? More so, what is the cure for a heart broken by Y/N L/N? Isaac doesn't believe there is one. No pain could be worse, and no band-aid could hold him together long enough for him to get over you. Not completely.

All Isaac can think of to do, is absolutely obliterate his opponents. Perhaps if he sees the opposing team members writhing on the ground, he'll feel better. So, that's what Isaac does. He bashes into one player after another, the loud whacks of each body colliding with his sending 'oohs' and 'ahh's' through the crowd. It's brutal and most definitely against the rules to some extent, but Coach Finstock doesn't take him off the field, because they're winning. Isaac is winning. The coach of the opposing team doesn't make a move either, almost as though he is too afraid of Isaac's wrath to argue. Good. Isaac needs this. It's most certainly a character flaw on his part, but he's heartbroken and in honesty could not care less. Perhaps he cared so much for you that he ran out of compassion for the rest of the world.

So, Isaac goes in for another attack, the other player heading down the field in the opposite direction from his team's goal, consumed by the fear of the werewolf, chasing him. Not that he knows Isaac's true capabilities, though the terrified expression on the boy's face could convince even Isaac that he does.

The crowd is shouting profusely, knowing what is about to befall the player Isaac is pursuing, but no one runs to stop the assault. It's a game after all, and if the coaches and referee deem it fairly played, so be it. Isaac is almost on top of the boy when he stops. It's as if something possesses him, freezing him in his tracks. He stumbles as he does so, the force at which he stopped his pace swaying him forward, but he's still on his feet and so is the other player.

Isaac hears something, a familiar beat rounding the corner. It's fast paced, nervous, and as Isaac turns to face the sound, he sees who the particular heartbeat belongs to.

You stand there fiddling with your hands, eyes scanning the field until they meet with his. There's a silent communication in that moment, and Isaac knows you've read the letter. You've seen into the mess that is his mind, and it terrifies him. He watches as you move forward, his heart beating out of his chest, first a walk, and then faster, all whilst Isaac is frozen to the spot both of awe and fear. The game around him comes to a pause as you make your way onto the field, stepping in front of players’ mid game. Isaac can hear those in the crowd muttering in confusion and frustration, he wants them all to shut up so he can focus on you. He just wants to focus on you.

It takes a while for you to reach him, the field is huge and it's hard to cover ground, even at the pace you’re going, but there is a part of Isaac that thinks he is seeing everything in slow motion. Like his anxiety is playing tricks on his mind.

It's not long before you're standing within arm’s reach of him, waiting for a reaction. Isaac's eyes scan over you, taking in the moment so that perhaps he can find it in himself to breathe again. You're staring him down, and he can sense fear in the beat of your heart, as if you think Isaac might not want to see you. In your hand is the letter, firmly grasped as if you are incapable of letting it go. Perhaps you came to give it back to him.

"Hi."

It's a relief for Isaac to hear your voice, even more so the fact that you are speaking to him. He never thought that would happen again.

"Hi." Isaac is sweating, nerves boiling over as he parrots your greeting. All he can do is watch as you glance down to the letter, and he's sure you're about to give it back when you look up at him once more.

"I'm not Allison."

Those three words burn like a hot poker, and Isaac despises the fact that he made you think you had to be someone you're not for him to care. He cares more than he thinks you will ever know.

"I don't want you to be." The words come easy, sliding from his lips with a thousand emotions, a potion of truth.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

And somehow, that's enough. The field is quiet, so is the crowd, and Isaac knows you're trying to ignore their stares, but that doesn't stop you from kissing him. It reminds him of the first time, standing in the hallway with everyone watching, the first time he truly let himself feel everything for you. His mind goes back to the day on this very same field, where it was just you and him under the floodlights with no one else to see. But most of all Isaac is focused on now. It's the first time his lips have met yours in a moment unplanned, an impulse that proves just how powerfully his heart beats for you. He doesn't waste a second in kissing you back, relishing in the feel of your arms around his neck, and just how close you are to him after being apart.

You break away only when you hear Stiles shouting, his voice recognisable anywhere. He's yelling out comedic lines straight out of a movie, teasing the both of you with 'get a rooms' and 'break it up lovebirds' but he's clapping for you through it all like a child.

Isaac ignores him, bringing a hand up to tilt your face back his way. He wants you smiling at him, not a Stilinski.

"So, we're really doing this?" Isaac can't help the way the words come out in a whisper, but he's so close you to he knows that you hear them. You're looking up at him, and he can feel your heart racing, he knows his is doing just the same.

"For real this time?"

Isaac smiles, hand on your cheek "For real this time."

AN: screaming, crying, throwing up rn omg.

TEEN WOLF TAGLIST: @arignipanja574

ISAAC LAHEY TAGLIST: @noonesheren @lselnerys @anonymouslyheresblog @anitdot @d34d-4c1d @lnnlove

SERIES TAGLIST: @notwendows @eden-0 @we-flower-fan @sannaa56 @proudhufflepuff77 @justme-brogan

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads

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itsjustbell · 1 year

Text

Sleep

Summary: After a long day at the studio, you decide to pay your favorite scientist a little visit and maybe convince him to get some much-needed rest.

Lol, I did end up putting this on a separate blog. This is the first fic I'm posting to Tumblr. I had to hype myself up for this, but I hope y'all like it. Please let me know if y'all would want more of this kind of stuff haha I totally didn't redo my whole blog just to post this, so I could keep my art and writing on separate accounts

Oh and thanks to @bruh-anator3000 for the confidence boost, i love you _______________________

You could see the blue glow of HexTech from under the lab’s door before you even entered the room. Familiar piles of blueprints and scribbled out calculations lay scattered across desks and floors alike. You made special note of the ones that bore black burns on their borders. You’d reckon that the lab was almost as messy as your studio back in the arts and design side of the Academy, splattered with paint and littered with tools strewn haphazardly on tables. Mess was the calling card of a creative you supposed, and at the center of this particular one, bathed in blue light and golden sparks, was Viktor.

Despite the echoing clack of your shoes against the floor, he stayed seemingly unaware of your presence. Not that he usually acknowledged the presence of many while he was working, but you still thought that perhaps the sharp sound disturbing the relative peace would have caught his attention. Even as you stood behind him, peering over his shoulder, he kept working. If he knew you were there, he made no show of it.

He flinched as you placed a hand on his shoulder, cursing. A part of you almost felt bad for spooking him, and you would’ve if he wasn’t wearing those stupidly adorable blue goggles. He looked over his shoulder at you with what you could only fathom was a glare through those thick blue lenses.

“You’re lucky I didn’t drop anything,” He scolded, setting down whatever it was he was tinkering with. It looked to be some sort of mechanical…claw with one of those hex balls he and Jayce had been troubleshooting. “You should know better than to disturb a scientist when he is working. This is—” He picked up the blue orb– “dangerous stuff I’m working with!”

“Mhmmm, and what would you have done? Beat me to death with this contraption of yours?” You gently removed his goggles, holding back a laugh. He grumbled as you did, but the pout that had formed a tight knot on his face all but melted away as you started to smooth out his goggle-hair. His hair was soft, though slightly slicked with grease.

“Is it so late that even you have stopped working to grace me with your presence?” He asked.

“I think I could hear the morning doves as I walked here.”

He hummed, slinking deeper into his chair as your fingers carded through his hair.

“You’re going to tell me it’s time to sleep, aren’t you?”

“It’s important,” You say as you work out a particularly unruly knot, “and I think your back could use the break from all the times you’ve passed out at this desk just this month.”

You slid your hands down the back of his neck and gave his shoulders a light squeeze. He shuddered under your hands. You leaned down to his ear.

“You’re turning into a shrimp,” You mused. He gasped dramatically, turning around in his chair with a hand to his heart.

“How dare you!”

You laughed, a smirk playing on your lips, “If it hurts so much, you must know it’s true.”

“Who said things have to be true to hurt?”

Despite the oh-so-scornful look on his face, he didn’t move when you placed your hands on his cheeks. “Are you going to sleep or not, Vik?”

He hummed, meeting your eyes with a playful smile. “Ehh… With all these insults of yours… I don’t think I’ve been properly persuaded yet.” His hands found their way to your hips, drawing you in close. Half-lidded amber eyes suddenly turned to alluring whiskey, and you eagerly drank them in.

“And what would you suggest?”

His eyes flicked down to your lips.

“A kiss, perhaps?” You chuckled, but fulfilled his request nevertheless.

You could feel the warmth of his red flush bloom under your fingertips as your lips met his. The hands on your waist wound themselves tighter into the fabric of your shirt, inviting you to rest a knee on the edge of his chair, so you didn’t have to lean down quite so far. His lips were rough against yours, but the abrasion only seemed to make you dizzier with desire. You had to steel yourself in order to pull away, lest you get lost in your lustful daze. An amused hum resounded through your chest when you saw his lips try to follow yours as you leaned back.

“Will that suffice?”

He raised an eyebrow. His pupils had nearly eclipsed his whole iris.

“Surely I can’t convince you into something more?”

“Nice try, mister,” You grab his tie out of his shirt and pull lightly. “You can have more when you’re in bed.”

He sighed in mock annoyance. “Well, if you insist.”

You handed him his cane, which he took begrudgingly, and helped him go through the motions of closing down the lab for the night— or morning, you guessed. The sound of his footsteps and cane alongside yours made for a lovely orchestra for the doves as you walked back to his room.

#viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane #arcane viktor x you #arcane viktor x reader #viktor fluff #viktor arcane

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soupandsimple · 2 years

Text

Had a hard time picking a maraurder for this but ultimately picked Sirius 🥺

* Sirius helping daughter out with her nails after a mishap

(btw, changing the mouth kisses to cheek kisses because yeah)

…………

So I usually have Sirius with a son(s) in my writings but this just seemed a bit of how he’d interact with a daughter!

It was a Saturday and you were feeling a little under the weather, so much so that Sirius told you to take the day and stay in bed.

A little past mid day, he was out working on some project or another in the garage and after some time decided to go in to check on you and your six year old daughter. Your daughter had actually been out in the garage with Sirius earlier but once it had got too hot she decided to go play something inside instead.

Now then, on his way to the bedrooms to check on his girls, he walks by the open hallway bathroom and hears crying. His heart breaks and immediately he tracks back.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he softly asks as he enters the bathroom and sees it’s his daughter.

She refuses to answer and just frowns at the mess in front of her; an opened bottle of bright pink nail polish, piles of messy napkins and her nails dripping in the color.

“What’s going on, hmm? What happened?” Sirius tries again, crouching down to her height and tucking some of the hair that had crowded her face back behind her ear.

“The nail polish went bad. It’s dripping” she replies with sniffles and a few more tears.

“It went everywhere yeah?” he says looking over at her little hands sitting atop of a towel on the sink.

She nods.

“Want me to clean them off?”

Your daughter nods again as more tears fall. Sirius softly smiles and wipes both the dry and wet tears off her cheeks, “Okay let’s clean them off, no more crying okay? I’m going to go get mummy’s special stuff.”

She tries to smile but can’t help but quietly comment, “Daddy, I don’t want to do my nails anymore.”

“Don’t want to do your nails anymore? Alright let’s clean them off first though. I’ll be right back” he says in an equally quiet voice and kisses her cheek before leaving the bathroom.

Sirius then heads into your shared bedroom where he finds you’re asleep; this was no problem to him though because after being together for so many years, he was no stranger to where you kept your nail polishes and remover but unfortunately when he got to the stash, there was no remover?

Of course he wasn’t going to wake you just to ask you about it nor did he have the time to go digging around every corner of the house to find it- his daughter needed comfort now…SO without a second thought, he quickly headed down to the garage for his paint thinner.

“Okay baby girl, so I couldn’t find the remover but I got this paint thinner and it’ll do the job just the same” Sirius says positively as he comes back into the bathroom.

“Huh?” your daughter says in a much more cheerful tone.

“Yeah look” he says, taking a now paint thinner soaked cotton ball and rubbing it against her nails. “See, it’s working” he tells her enthusiastically.

Your daughter giggles and sniffles one last time.

Nails all clean now, Sirius throws the cotton balls away, “There, now what color do you want to do?”

Although his daughter had said she didn’t want to do her nails anymore, he knew her well enough to know that like you when upset, would say things she didn’t mean…and your daughter LOVED having painted nails so he rightfully assumed this was one of those cases.

“Mm, that one” your daughter pointed to a pastel pink.

“Okay,” Sirius says as he picks up the bottle and begins painting her little finger nails while she watches happily.

“Are you feeling better lovey?” he then asks.

She nods and smiles at him through the mirror. Sirius returns the expression, kisses her head and continues his work.

“Daddy, you’re pretty good at this” your daughter tells him as he’s close to finishing.

Sirius chuckles a bit, “Well thank you baby girl, I guess all those years of watching your mummy do her nails has paid off then” he jokes, although it’s 100% factual (he had even let you paint his nails black a couple of times back when you were dating).

“Okay, how do they look?” Sirius asks as he closes the polish bottle and eyes his finished work.

“I like them! Thank you daddy” your daughter says.

“You’re very welcome, thank you for letting me do them.”

She shyly nods and Sirius gives her another kiss on the cheek, “I love you, let’s go see if mum is awake so you can show her your pretty nails.”

Your daughter smiles and skips out the room with her hands stuck out in front of her. Sirius would always be there for his little girl, for whatever- forever. <3

#sirius black x reader #dad!sirius black #sirius black imagine #short visual thoughts

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jjksblackgf · 2 years

Text

me and mr. jung | jhs (m)

My embarkation ticket to The Seven Seas Collab hosted by @ressjeon. The deep blue waters can be just as messy as solid ground.

pairing — investor!hoseok x singer!reader summary — Looking to diversify his investments, Jung Hoseok decides that cruise ships are the way to go. To get the lay of the land, he embarks on a promising ship, where one of the beautiful performers has his attention immediately. genre — smut, fluff (ish), forbidden love, love at first sight au rate — 18+ word count — 7.2k warnings — explicit sexual content, pov switch, alcohol intake, power dynamics, masturbation (f), unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating if you squint. author’s note — this fic had so many plot changes, y'all 😭 Alas, it's here with all it's glory. Shoutout to Yannie for putting together this amazing collab, and for brainstorming with me <3 And yes, there will be a part two in the future.

The indigo blue stress ball was at its last leg in Hoseok’s hands. He sat behind his mahogany desk, listening to his financial adviser babble about his personal portfolio. He’d seriously considered spiking his cup, but no amount of bourbon on his coffee could make this meeting interesting.

“Listen, Derek,” Hoseok started, “As much as I love talking about money with you, we’ll have to finish this another time. I have another meeting to attend.”

“Oh, of course, Mr. Jung,” Derek said apologetic, already getting up from his seat. “I’ll reschedule with your secretary.”

With Derek out of his office, Hoseok could finally roll his eyes and take a deep breath. How his father managed to get by day in and day out in this company was a mystery. Taking a short minute to rest, he placed his elbows on his desk, looking at a photo of him and his father. His mom took it on a trip to Disneyland when he was five. With big Mickey Mouse ears, and a smile that looked soldered to his face, all Hoseok wanted was to be like his father. He was sitting on his father’s lap, and the picture looked a little blurred, like he’d be jumping up and down, too excited to sit still.

Many times over the years, Hoseok would come to this very office and see this picture that never left his father’s desk. When dad was in a meeting, he would sit on his leather chair and pretend to make important calls, sometimes indulged by dad’s secretary. All that little boy dreamed about was to be important like his father and make him really proud.

If he only knew then about the boring meetings with stuck-up business associates, and the bootlicking, barely competent employees, maybe he’d rethink his decision to be a hedge fund manager. Yes, he did get the fun part of dressing in tailored suits every day, but the fun would end there most of the time.

Even with a boring job, Hoseok hadn’t noticed that he’d become a workaholic just like his father. Getting home too late to cook dinner, leaving too early for a proper breakfast, eating lunch at a restaurant every day. How does one become a workaholic with such a boring job? Boring job, but having a talent with numbers. Boring job, but being trained by his Ivy League education. Boring job, but being able to accurately predict the market for his clients. Boring job, but fulfilling his own dreams and his father’s dreams. Boring job, nonetheless.

“Amanda,” Hoseok called through the speaker, “Please reschedule my agenda for this afternoon, I’ll take the rest of the day off.”

“Yes, sir. What should I tell them?”

“Just make up an excuse. Once you’re done with that, take the day off as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hoseok didn’t give a second thought to his decision, just grabbing his coat and wallet before leaving. His apartment was the only place that came to his mind at that moment. No place else sounded interesting enough.

Turning the keys to his apartment, the first thing he noticed was the mail, piling up on top of his foyer’s accent table. He took them to his couch, determined to sort them out today. He didn’t have anything to do anyway. But by bill number three, he’d given up, laying down and whining into the cushions.

Too many thoughts, too many decisions to make. Should he change his career? If yes, would that tarnish his father’s memory? Would his mom think of him as a traitor? What else was he good at? If he was going to stir the pot, it would have to be something he’s really good at, right? His mind gave him no rest, yet somehow he managed to fall asleep.

Three hours later, his body still felt tired. Hoseok opened his eyes, his gray walls looking like an infinity pool. He had promised himself to buy some art as soon as possible when he moved in. Yet another chore that got pushed back to make room for meetings. He didn’t know if the sun was still up, but the pink hues of the sky clued him in.

Through his peripheral vision, he spotted something colorful on the floor. It was a little too distracting to his eyes. He was still a little disoriented, a little sleepy, but the colorless apartment helped his search.

With blue and gold letters, an invitation.

Sweet Night Cruise Line would like to formally invite Mr. Jung Hoseok to embark on his next business adventure…

The plane from New York to Lisbon went like a blessing. No screaming babies, no dogs, no fighting couple one seat behind, no chatty passenger by his side, he even slept through the whole 7 hours. A first for this Jung. The flight from Lisbon to Málaga went much the same, fairly empty for a Friday afternoon. Hoseok wanted to take this as a good sign.

But the real showstopper was provided by Mr. Kim, sending a limousine for the one hour drive from the airport to the pier. To take the fastest route, the driver avoided the coast, driving through a small highway. He regretted he didn’t get to see much of Málaga, but that went away as they reached Venus Beach. From his window he could see the locals and tourists enjoying the beach views restaurants. He’d promised himself to come back here before his “business trip” ended.

With a keycard in hand and his luggage being delivered to his cabin, Hoseok followed the young concierge escorting him to Mr. Kim, who was hosting a crew member party before the guests arrived the following day.

“Hoseok, look at you all grown up!” Mr. Kim said, coming to greet him at the deck. Hoseok laughed as they shook hands.

“It’s been too long, Mr. Kim. I hope everything is going well,” Even if not fond of small talk, Hoseok always knew to be polite to everyone, especially to his father's close friends.

“They certainly are. Here, have some champagne,” Mr. Kim offered, waving at a nearby waiter. “If you’re not a party man, Hoseok, my crew will most certainly make one out of you,”

“I can imagine, this is looking impressive!” The party was already a rave. Cameras flashed everywhere, and the music was not awful, vanilla jazz like at his office. That already set them apart from the office crowd he knew. The canapés were to die for, the bottles of champagne just kept on coming, and he couldn’t quite see from that far, but he thought he saw some guys setting up a karaoke machine.

“There’s no crew party like Sweet Night’s. Here, let me introduce you to our staff captain.” Mr. Kim guided him towards a tall man. His black hair was carefully pushed back, and he wasn’t wearing his uniform, or anything super formal for that matter, just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow and gray slacks. He noticed Mr. Kim was also dressed like the captain, just with blue and black variations of colors. He immediately regretted his choice of dressing in a three-piece suit.

“Hoseok, this is our Staff Captain and my nephew Kim Namjoon,” Mr. Kim introduced, “Namjoon, this is Jung Hoseok, a dear friend of mine, and possibly a future investor. He’ll be staying with us for the first half of our trip.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jung, I’m very pleased to have you aboard. I’m sure you’ll find our accommodations to your taste,”

“Thank you and please call me Hoseok. I’m already feeling like an old overdressed man, and I’m not even 30 yet.” Hoseok joked and they politely laughed.

“Nonsense, you’re dressed just fine. You have good taste in tailoring,” Mr. Kim encouraged. “Would you like a short tour of the ship? I’ll give you a proper guide as the week progresses.”

“Sure, let’s go.”

Mr. Kim showed very little of each floor. He started by going down two levels and introducing the restaurant and dining hall. As soon as the elevator doors opened, he could see the massive staircase leading to the level above it. The walnut wood was delicately carved into banisters and chairs, probably the tables too. The tables were set with cream colored linens, complimenting the blue curtains and the deep brown of the chairs.

Going up a level, he could feel the mood switch. The stage perfectly fitted the space. What Hoseok assumed was a dancing floor, was surrounded by small black tables with four seats each, and two circular bars, with at least fifteen seats. The stage was currently tinted with blue light. It had a piano with a 50’s microphone by the side, with two more on the back. The bars were impressive, each with many LED panels on the back and glass shelves by the sides holding many brands of different liquors.

“This place is bigger than what it looks like right now,” The nephew explained. His deep voice made an echo as they left the empty room. “I would suggest for you to come tomorrow night. It’s 50’s themed, we’re expecting for the dance floor to be full.”

“I’ll certainly come,” Hoseok promised, even though it didn’t sound that promising, as the elevator doors closed behind them.

“And we reach full circle,” Mr. Kim finished the tour. They reached back to the deck, where a big pool and two bars were located. Getting familiarized with the deck, Hoseok looked around, before locking eyes with a familiar face. He knew her from somewhere. He looked puzzled at her, and the woman looked puzzled back. Then realization hit him as they walked closer.

“Daena?” he asked, unsure if it was really her or not. A childhood friend, someone he hasn’t seen in at least 15 years. He saw her last at a pool party at her parents mansion, the summer before 8th grade. Her father was his father’s closest friend in the business world. They’d become attached at the hip for years before Hoseok went to a boarding school in Switzerland.

“Hoseok?” she asked back. When he smiled as a yes, she ran to his embrace. Her hug was as tight as he remembered and she still wore the same floral perfume.

“I’d wager you two know each other,” Mr. Kim joked, and they laughed, pulling away from the hug.

“Yeah, since we were kids, actually. Our fathers were close,” Daena explained, stroking Hoseok’s arm gently. Even if time drove them apart, Daena would know that his father’s passing would always be a sore spot for Hoseok.

“Ms. Daena, I don’t think I introduced you to our staff captain. This is my nephew Kim Namjoon,” Mr. Kim introduced them, and Hoseok noticed as she got shy. Her smile was curt and didn’t reach her eyes. They only nodded to each other.

“What are you doing here anyway, you workaholic?” Daena asked Hoseok, teasing him with a slap to his shoulder. “Don’t you have a country to buy or something?”

“I’m actually here as a possible investor, thank you very much,” Hoseok indulged her teasing, putting his hands on his pockets and leaning forward.

“A powerful man never stops working, I imagine,” she said tantalizingly.

“Hoseok is a man that knows how to work hard while playing harder,” Mr. Kim joined in their banter. He continued to explain how Hoseok’s visit would take place, but Hoseok was too far gone to pay attention.

Only 10 feet away, standing by one of the bars with a drink in her hand, there was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her skin glowed and contrasted with the pink and orange shades of the sunset, as if she spent the last week being pampered by the sun. She was laughing with her friends, her summer dress flowing with the soft breeze, but still clinging to her figure. She looked well rested, her face showing nothing but enthusiasm and curiosity.

Her lips looked soft and inviting as he noticed the shimmer of her lip gloss. What a smile.

Hoseok wanted to know that woman. He wanted to know if she smelled of fresh gardenias like he was imagining. Her eyes glistened as she spoke to her friends, and he could tell they were entranced. Must’ve been an interesting story. Or she could just be saying some bullshit. He wouldn’t judge her friends for being hypnotized. It wasn’t their fault. He turns to his group, already engrossed in another conversation, yet he wasn’t ashamed to interrupt their discussion.

“Excuse me, who is that woman in the pink dress over there?”

“Oh, that’s Y/N, she’s one of our performers. She has a lovely voice.” The nephew, whose name he would make a note to remember, answered.

“I’m sure she does.” He could no longer take his eyes off of her. He felt Daena nudge him in the ribs with her elbows, but he didn’t care if she was going to tease him.

The singer was sipping a delicate looking drink. Maybe a Cosmo? Cranberry vodka? But that was only an afterthought. Hoseok was mesmerized by her body. Her shoulders were exposed, and that already made him salivate. Let alone the curves of her breasts, peeking through the opening of her cleavage. Her legs were another thing entirely; a central feature in Hoseok’s mind. They would be the star of his imagination for many days to come. Her beautiful feet were adorned with delicate heels, with thin straps that swirled around her calves. Sexy. Beautiful. Hot. Goddess.

“Do you want to meet the crew?” Mr. Kim asked, and Hoseok snapped out of his trance.

“If that’s not too much,” Hoseok agreed, trying his best to not break into a victory dance.

The soft wind shifted in their direction, and with it came the most delicate sweet scent. It had to be her perfume, no questions about it. Once they reached her, Hoseok had to concentrate very hard to not drool at her feet.

“Ms. Y/N,” Mr. Kim called, “This is Jung Hoseok, he’s a dear friend and he’ll be our guest for the first leg of our trip.”

“Hello,” she said, and Hoseok felt like he could melt right there. Was that shimmering bells he heard when she spoke? “Is very nice to meet you, Mr. Jung.” she offered her hand with that kilowatt smile. Concentrating very hard in forbidding the excitement in his stomach to travel to his pants, Hoseok shook her hand with both of his. Better to focus on her soft hands instead of the thrill he felt when she called him Mr. Jung.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Hoseok almost whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction.

“And this is Ms. Lee Daena, another dear friend and our guest,” Mr. Kim intervened.

“Is very nice to meet you, Ms. Lee,” Hoseok was completely hypnotized, only looking at Y/N as she spoke to Daena. The softest voice. The sexiest voice. The reincarnation of Aphrodite herself.

“Please, call me Daena,” she said, shaking the hand Y/N extended. Daena also pinched Hoseok’s arm and whispered “Get your shit together.” He didn’t.

“I heard you have a lovely voice,” Hoseok complimented Y/N. Anything to distract the butterflies in his stomach. If it was anything like her speaking voice, Hoseok could only imagine the hold she had on the other guests.

“That’s what I hear too, but I don’t think I can agree that much,” she said with humility.

“Maybe I’ll just have to hear it and judge for myself, then,” Hoseok teased, focusing on keeping a smirk off his face.

“I guess that would be best,” she agreed, and her eyes sparkled. Hoseok couldn’t help but pay attention to the beauty of her face now that he could see it up close. Her cheeks looked as soft as her hands. He wanted to see it for himself. He almost slipped in his composure. Maybe some other time.

“Well, let me introduce you to the rest of the staff,” Mr. Kim said, taking Hoseok off his trance again.

Mr. Kim was right about the crew party. There would be no other like this. The food kept coming, along with the champagne. He was partly expecting to see a beer keg somewhere, and he had to remind himself he wasn’t at a college party in the 90’s. The karaoke was set at a makeshift stage, and various staff members took their turns. Hoseok also expected for Y/N to go up there and sing too, but she kept her place amongst her friends.

Hoseok was torn the entire night. He knew he was on vacation, but to everyone else he was a guest. And to stare at a staff member was wildly inappropriate. But he couldn’t help it, she was just too magnetic. She was probably a siren, taking him off his normal routes and alluring him to his death. Hoseok fidgeted the entire time he was accompanying Mr. Kim as they made the rounds. Every now and then, he’d look at her direction like a lunatic.

“Stop staring or go talk to her. Either way, stop squirming like a little boy,” Daena whispered by his side, only playfully annoyed.

“First of all, I’m not staring, I’m just making business observations about the deck. Second of all, not while Mr. Kim is looking,” Hoseok whispered back.

“Afraid of getting caught, Mr. Boy Scout? Not much wild in you, huh?”

“Stop talking like that. We’re not in the 60’s,” Hoseok hissed, and she chuckled. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Just because,” she said, shrugging. “Don’t worry about that. I'll distract Mr. Kim now, make a run for it.” Daena offered and immediately started an animated conversation with Mr. Kim. Hoseok didn’t waste time, and in seconds he was at Y/N’s side.

“I thought I was going to see you sing tonight at the karaoke,” he said, making her turn to look at him.

“I thought I could give the other a fighting chance,” she answered, taking the last sip of her drink.

“What if I was Ebony and you were Ivory?” he joked, and she snorted, rolling her eyes. “Maybe some Endless Love if you’re feeling really corny.”

“Oh, that would be just fantastic. But between you and me, I don’t know if you can hold an E-flat,” she teased, leaning into him.

“Try me,” he leaned forward too, whispering the words to her. He looked into her curious eyes, and for a moment he forgot where they were. Her cheeks looked tempting again, but they were overshadowed by her lips, plump and soft, almost parted for a kiss. He leaned even more, throwing caution to the wind.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” someone asked by their side. A tall male, one of her friends, stood there with his hands in his pockets. Y/N corrected her posture, and Hoseok was quick to do the same. The friend looked suspiciously at Hoseok, before doing the same to Y/N.

“Yes, I’m ready,” she announced, grabbing her phone and adjusting her hair. “Have a good night, Mr. Jung.” she said politely.

“Have a good night, Y/N.”

A lot of mantras went by Y/N’s head during the past three weeks. Ignore the way he’s looking at me. Do not bite your lip right now. Stop imagining yourself on your knees. Stop staring at his lips. Dating a guest is wrong. Dating a guest is wrong. Dating a guest is wrong. They all seemed worthless in the end. She could only listen to the last one.

“Again, another great set,” Hoseok complimented, reaching for her hand. She took it as she walked down the stairs by the side of the rehearsing stage. Ignore the way it feels when he holds your hand. If he could only read her mind… “You do know how to put a setlist together.”

“Well, thank you,” Y/N said, “I am a fan of the 70’s, so I had to go all out.”

“You say you’re a fan of the 70’s and yet I see no Bee Gees in there,” Hoseok teased.

“That’s because I actually have a personality.”

“Oh really? With all that ABBA? You say I don’t have a personality, but if you really want to talk about something generic…” Hoseok continued, shrugging his shoulders.

Y/N gasped, pulling her hands off of his to playfully slap his arms multiple times. “You did not just call ABBA generic!”

“I’m sorry,” he laughed freely, trying to avoid her hits.

“Just when I was starting to like you, and you say stuff like this,” Y/N whined, crossing her arms. She pouted, shaking her head. She thought she was looking pathetic, but anything to flirt with him.

“Aw, look at you pouting,” Hoseok whined, teasing her. “Would you forgive me if I apologized?” he said softly, stroking her arm with one hand, grabbing her chin with the other. She let him guide her eyes to him, and he smiled softly.

“Maybe,” she encouraged him, maybe batting her eyelashes a little. He squinted his eyes when he saw the playful smile on her lips.

“I’m sorry for thinking ABBA is boring and generic,” he said mockingly, a big smile plastered on his lips.

“Because they are influential to pop music to this day,” she said, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m not saying that,” he countered, with the bickering yet defying voice he always had.

“Yes, you are,” she chanted, her smile only getting bigger. She thought he would be used to it now. It’s not like that was the first time he made fun of her musical taste.

“Because they are influential to pop music to this day,” he said, sighing heavily after.

“How did that taste like?” she asked, already knowing he hated saying those words.

“Like vinegar,” he frowned. “So, am I forgiven?” he probed.

“Yes, you are,” she said softly.

“That’s good,” he whispered. She then felt Hoseok caress her cheek, ever so tenderly. His thumb left her chin and grazed her jaw, before his hand traveled to her neck.

She took in a sharp breath. No one was around to witness any of that, Y/N was always careful to talk to him without anyone around. She wanted this to be the moment where she finally gave in to her desires. To finally kiss his lips, that looked so soft and inviting. He leaned forward, his nose touching hers, his sweet breath hitting her face.

“We can’t,” she whispered. He took a deep breath, but he didn’t move an inch away from her.

“Why not?”

“You’re a guest,” she started, “And I could-”

“Don’t think of me as a guest,” Hoseok interrupted, taking a step back to look into her eyes.

“I don’t have any other way to see it,” she continued, shrugging, “I can’t jeopardize my job like this.”

“You won’t,” Hoseok said, taking her hand back in his. “I kind of work here anyway, so you should think of me as a coworker.” He insisted and she laughed nervously.

“I can’t, that’s not what you are. You are a guest, and possibly my future boss. My love life needs to be separate!”

“I get that, I really do,” Hoseok sighed. “I’m sorry for putting you in this position, I’m not thinking clearly.”

“You’re forgiven,” she said, kindly. She sighed and he joined her. Maybe if her decisions existed in a bubble, where one couldn’t interfere with the other…

“In the spirit of being honest, I just wanted you to know that I find you really attractive,” Hoseok said, sounding apologetic. “And I see that it was very unprofessional of me to put you in this position, and I respect your decision. And when I was flirting with you, I thought you were flirting back. It’s my mistake that I-”

“I was flirting back,” she whispered, not wanting him to apologize for something she also had a hand in.

“Okay then,” Hoseok sighed. She looked deeply into his eyes. She could feel the sorrow being expressed in her own face. “I really wanted to kiss you,” he said softly, “and maybe do some other stuff too,” he continued jokingly, and she chuckled.

“I really wanted to kiss you too,” she reassured him.

“So it’s a no to the other stuff?” he teased, making her roll her eyes. “If you change your mind…”

“You’ll be the first one to know,” she promised.

Y/N spent the rest of the day in her cabin, thinking about Hoseok. She was starting to regret her stupid, stupid decision to not kiss him. His lips were right there, no more than an inch apart with his hand at her neck. All she had to do was lift her chin a little to reach paradise. The lips she had been dreaming about for weeks. She could finally pull his hair and moan to his lips. So what if she was going to lose her job? She could always find another one. She would not find another set of arms that she would like to be in. At least not this much. The arms that would pull her to his chest, maybe even squeeze her hips.

But that door was closed. It needed to be.

Laying down on her small bed, she closed her eyes and traced all the memories she had of his hands with her own. Those damn hands. The way he touched her neck with just the tip of his fingers, his thumb caressing her cheek and jaw. He was driving her to insanity. His hands would also caress her arms, tender strokes that she wanted to feel in every inch of her body.

She wished he was there with her. She wished she could guide his hands through her body. If he was going to drive her to insanity, at least drive her to orgasm too. Too worked up to look back, she imagined his hands cupping her breasts. Her breath caught, and she felt her nipples getting hard through the fabric of her dress.

She also wanted him to touch her thighs. His palm would travel up and down her legs, before settling at her hips. She quickly pulled down her underwear, not wanting to lose the momentum of her imagination. She also wanted him to kiss her inner thighs, but her fingers would do for the moment. Moving up and down softly through her inner thighs, she whispered his name.

Her fingers reached her folds, and she hissed once she realized the pool that formed. Slowly circling her clit, she moaned his name again and again. She imagined what his lips would feel like. She wanted to grip his hair for him to stay put, and his tongue would go up and down per her request.

Her fingers picked up the pace, and she curled the sheet with her free hand. She wanted to feel him moan against her cunt, beg for him to suck her clit. The knot in her stomach got tighter and tighter, and she couldn’t control herself anymore. She moaned his name again, loudly this time, as the climax reached her body.

“Shit,” she whispered. She knew at that moment it was impossible to ignore the way he affected her. She honestly didn’t want to.

“I ain’t got no money… I ain’t like those other guys you hang around,” Y/N sang the first lines of her last song of the night. The crowd was exceptionally encouraging, she would give credit to her stage presence. At first they mostly drank at the bar, and some couples danced together, but at that moment they all paid attention to her performance, she was giving it her all. She could pull all that passion from personal experience. “I Wanna Be Your Lover” was only the cherry on top, to end the night in a funky mood. But the true crowd pleasers were “If You Really Love Me”, “If I Were Your Woman”, “Let’s Stay Together”, and “Touch Me In the Morning”. Oddly timed.

Did she really have to set up all of those love songs on the same night she decided to not deny her desires? And to make matters worse, she knew he was watching. She moved her body the way she knew he liked it too. Swinging her hips this way and that. Dancing and tapping her hips to the beat of the drums. She was also feeling herself in her bell bottom jeans with bell sleeve tie top. A dangerous combo, but she wanted something out of that night. She wanted him.

So she decided to let him know. He would need to pay attention to that moment.

“Before we end this beautiful night, I just wanted to dedicate this next song to a friend of mine,” she started saying before the band could leave their marked places. She found him in the crowd quickly, locking his eyes easily. The unscripted message got his attention. “I hope he’s paying attention. I’ll know he’ll like this one.” She took a deep breath and started acapella.

“Me and Mrs. Jones,” she started the first notes and the crowd cheered, some couples went back to dancing, enjoying the slow pace of the song. “We got a thing going on,” the band followed her lead, one by one until the song was luscious and lustful.

“We both know that it’s wrong,” Piano.

“But it’s much too strong to let it go now,” Base.

“We meet every day, at the same café,” Guitar.

“At six thirty, and no one knows she’ll be there,” Sax.

“Holding hands, making all kinds of plans, while the jukebox plays our favorite song,” The song progressed and Hoseok got closer to the stage, leaving the shadow of the bar where he sat every day to watch her perform. “Well, it’s time for us to be leaving. It hurts so much, it hurts so much inside.” He was standing in front of the stage by that point, hands in his pockets, a confused look on his face. She needed to make herself clearer.

“Now she'll go her own way and I'll go mine,” She stared directly into his brown eyes, she said everything she wanted to in her head, in hopes it would translate to her eyes. He had to understand. “But tomorrow we’ll meet at the same place, at the same time,” The confused look was gone, and a smirk replaced his features. He winked and she fell like swooning, but she could only watch while he walked away, “Me and Mrs. Jones…”

The song ended, and she wished the crowd goodnight, excusing herself before the band could ask any questions she didn’t want to answer. She started to walk around the bar and the dance floor, politely nodding while people congratulated her performance. He was nowhere to be found. She would scream his name on every floor if it were necessary.

She walked towards the elevator, but the influx of people was too big, it would take forever; she’d have to do a one-eighty and bolt for the stairs. Looking at her feet, trying not to fall in heels, she went up the steps as fast as she could.

“Excuse me, miss,” she heard a male voice in front of her, but she didn’t look up. The man was insistent and held her arm, halting her steps. She turned to face him, angry words almost coming out of her lips. But at the step behind her, Hoseok was smiling angelically, his eyes glistening under the lights of the room. “Can I have your autograph?” he continued, climbing up a step to get leveled with her.

“Yes, you can,” she replied, all traces of anger gone from her features.

“I don’t have pen and paper with me. Do you mind going to my cabin so we can find one?” He whispered to her ear, before quickly kissing her earlobe. A shiver went up and down her spine, and she had to control every movement of her body. Having sex in public was still illegal.

“Yes, we can do that,” she whispered back.

Hoseok wasted no time in guiding her to his cabin. They walked through a secluded hallway from the bar to a private elevator. She’d never been there before, but she knew it led to the VIP lounge. She barely saw the keycard hit the touch screen, and Hoseok pressed the buttons quickly. He was in a hurry too. They stood on opposite sides of the elevator, facing each other.

“Are you sure about this?” Hoseok asked, tapping his foot to the ground, he looked a little nervous.

“I’m sure.”

The elevator door opened, and he guided her through the lounge and inside another hallway. They walked too quickly, she was certain someone was watching closely through the security footage, but her decision didn’t waiver. He opened his door for her, and she stood facing his ocean view window. She could only see the blackness of the night, but she was sure it would be beautiful during the day. She heard noises in the back and turned to see Hoseok pouring two drinks from his mini fridge.

“For confidence?” He offered her a glass, but she shook her head.

“I don’t need it.” She whispered, the shaky feeling of what she was about to do finally setting in. He put the glasses down and came to her side, holding her hands to his heart.

“It’s okay if you change your mind,” he said, and she chuckled, but her stomach felt restless. She was finally getting what she wanted. His lips were close, and this time she didn’t want to say no. She didn’t have to. She was committing to that moment.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she answered, taking a step further with a small smile. Her breasts touched the fabric of his light blue suit, and she remembered earlier in the day, with her imagination unfettered. She closed her eyes. It wasn’t going to be only imagination anymore. “Hold me,” she ordered. She didn’t open her eyes when his arms held her waist, hugging her figure to his chest. “Kiss me,” she whispered. And he did.

His warm lips were just as soft as she imagined. His tongue caressed her bottom lip, and in a quest to taste his breath, her own tongue met his. Her hands, firmly pressed against his arms, went to stroke his hair and neck. She pulled his hair, and he moaned at the sensation, holding her tighter against his body. She bit his lower lip, doing the best she could to press her hips against his own. She had his help when his hands gripped her hips and ass.

They both let loose. His jacket was on the floor in a second, and his hands were quick to untie her blouse, exposing her bra. Her hands traveled down his chest as she opened the buttons of his shirt. He stripped her pants and panties off while he kissed her jaw and neck, until he could lick and suck on her cleavage. She opened his belt and unzipped his pants in the process, massaging his cock as soon as she reached his boxers.

In a flash, she dragged his pants and boxers down his legs, and found herself to her knees, reenacting the most famous scene of her imagination. He hissed when she kissed his tip and licked his length. She spat in her hand and stroked him up and down, before doing the same with her mouth. He growled, and his deep voice excited her even further. Her walls clenched when she felt his full size inside her mouth. It filled her perfectly. She sucked him faster and faster, getting aid from her hand. She was salivating for more, clenching in anticipation. Her hand left his cock to massage her own clit. She needed no support from her wet hand, her folds were already pooled.

“Yes,” he hissed, moving his hips in harmony with her mouth, “touch that pretty cunt, baby,” he held her in place by her neck, thrusting his hips further down her throat. They moaned in unisson. He took his cock out of her mouth, the long saliva trail dripping on the floor. “Let me fuck you,” he whispered, begging. She nodded her head fiercely.

He helped her get up to her feet and guided her to the sofa by the window. She took her top and bra off and laid down, eyes wide with expectation. He opened her legs widely, and placed himself in between, holding one thigh to his waist. He used her wet labia to lubricate himself, sliding his dick up and down. She hissed as his tip stroked her clit. She clenched as he slowly entered her core, and her breath caught. She moaned his name.

“Yes, baby, call for me,” he said to her ear, catching her earlobe with his teeth. She moaned his name again and again as his strokes got faster and faster. His hand squeezed her thigh, and he grunted. The vibrations of his voice sent chills down her spine. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he whispered.

His pace never slowed, and they moaned each other's names. She felt the knot build up in her abdomen, and her breath got shallow and quicker. “Fuck me,” she scremead, breathing harder. His hips picked up the speed, the sound of their hips meeting getting louder. She felt free to moan louder as he grunted more and more. “I’m close,” she whispered, “Let me cum on that dick, Mr. Jung,” she whined. He squeezed her thigh harder, grunting incoherently. She then felt the warmth of his jizz inside of her.

“No,” he said, breathing heavily. His hips settled still.

“W-What?”

“You’re going to cum on my mouth,” he said, readjusting her body so she was sitting. He kneeled on the floor, placing her thighs on his shoulders. His tongue went to her clit, and she gasped, placing her hands on his hair. He swirled the tip of his tongue, sliding two fingers inside her filled pussy. She hissed with the sensation. He curled his fingers, massaging her spot.

“Suck on it,” she begged. He complied immediately. His free hand massaged one of her tits, and she pulled her head back, overwhelmed with pleasure. The familiar knot came back, and she sucked a quick breath. “I’m so close,” she repeated, and Hoseok increased the pressure. She tugged his hair as she felt the warm release of the knot, and in a final moan, she fell limp on his couch.

Y/N heard the birds chirping outside. Was it morning already? She felt an unfamiliar stroke up and down her back, and was suddenly alarmed. She sat up quickly in the bed, only to see a confused Hoseok laying down by her side.

“Nightmare?” he asked, worried. She rubbed her eyes, looking around his room. The memories started to flood her head. The unplanned serenade, the quick walk down his hallway, the couch. The shower that led to a second round. The bickering over her use of his shirt to sleep. “Y/N?” he repeated, sounding a little alarmed.

“I’m okay,” she affirmed, she looked into his eyes, and he was still not convinced. “Really, everything’s fine. I’m just not used to waking up with someone else on the bed,” she confessed.

“Come here,” he asked, patting the place she’d just left. She agreed, laying her head against his chest. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“Mornin’,” she replied, stretching her arms and legs.

“How are you feeling?”

“Feeling good,” she replied, stretching her neck to kiss his lips. “Real good,” she continued playfully, wiggling her eyebrows. He chuckled.

“How about some breakfast in bed?” he offered, hugging her tighter to his side.

She felt her body tense, and she stayed silent. As good as it was, there were still consequences she would have to deal with. What was going to happen to her job? For all she knew, Mr. Kim could be right outside waiting to fire her while she was dressed in her panties and Hoseok’s button up. And what about the future? What did the future held with this strange man she just had unprotected sex with?

“I don’t know,” she finally answered.

“Are the regrets knocking at your door?” he asked softly, back to stroking her back.

“Yes, and no,” she admitted, and Hoseok took a deep breath.

“Talk to me,” he prompted.

“My job…” she started, sorrow seeping through.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said matter of fact. “Your job is safe.”

“What do you mean?” she probed.

“Just trust me,”

“I want to, but you’ll have to tell me,” she pushed, getting up and supporting her weight in one elbow. “What did you do?”

“It’s a long story, okay?” he answered, pushing his hair back. “I can tell you what I know over dinner, tho,” he offered, smugly. “Tomorrow night. Let’s take advantage of the fact that we are in France, and I’ll fly us to Paris for a date. What do you say?” he continued, his eyes sparkling like a puppy dog.

“I say you’re insane,”

“Well, at least I’m hot,” he joked, and she snorted.

“Hoseok, be serious.”

“I am,” he declared. She started to get up, but he stopped her, holding her arm. “Please, just listen to my offer. Let’s just say that in the hypothetical situation where your job is safe, and no one knew we just had the hottest sex of my life, would you go out with me?” She looked at his begging face for a minute, and he pouted cutely as she pondered. “Or was this just a one night thing? You don’t have to pretend you have feelings or anything. I’m a grown man.”

“I don’t want this to be just a one night stand,” she confessed.

“Okay, good, neither do I. Then back to the hypothetical scenario,” he said, cheerful, sitting up by her side.

“And that’s only if my job is safe and sound,” she threatened.

“Okay. If your job is safe and sound, would you be willing to date me?” he asked.

“I guess…”

“You guess?” he asked, shocked.

“If my job is safe and sound, I don’t want to jeopardize it…”

“So?” he prompted.

“So, any dating would have to happen far and outside from the ship.”

“Fine by me.”

“And while inside the ship, we have to pretend like nothing is happening between us.” she continued, a little more shy this time. Maybe this would be too much for him. Maybe this would be too much for her. She didn’t know if she was capable of pretending nothing was happening.

“That’s also fine by me,” he promised. “With that out of the way, do you want to go to Paris with me?”

“I’ll meet you outside of the pier by 5.”

#bangtanbathhouse #bts #bts ambw #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts reaction #bts scenarios #jung hoseok #hoseok #hoseok smut #black kpop fans #kpop ambw

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futureforged · 3 months

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*send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character. 📨 ➤ @nightlyvisitor [ ; ] 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts for Raymon ✨👀

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑. Nothing new, he muses, idly continuing to tap his pen's end against the surface of his desk. He's done for the day, everything cleared out, sorted, properly where it was meant to be. But maybe he's grown all too comfortable here. Come to find a sort of odd comfort in staying within the lab's carefully guarded, meticulously kept walls. The lights have been dimmed, just enough to ease his eye strain from being inside all day. Every other noise grows dull, distant as he continues to wade deeper into his tired thoughts.

Trailing after the thinning path led by breadcrumbs of passing observations, they lead in differing directions. But a few gradually begin to spiderweb in interconnecting veins of a familiar topic. One he's admittedly not proud of lingering too long on, but … too late to bother backing out now.

His pen tapping begins to slow, gaze breaking from where it'd been staring off aimlessly to instead flicker up & over to the one safely tucked away pile at the edge of his desk, locking on the messy yet neat curves of the other's distant writing scrawled along the top page. A personal report of his most recent mission. As usual, it took a bit of mental prep before he could bring himself to read through it. It truly did make him wonder just how the sunny man was able to stay so hopeful. The things he's seen … admittedly, he was nosy, peeking through a few of the sharpshooter's files within the BSAA database to figure out if he was worth trusting or not months before … he was a Raccoon City Survivor.

He'd been one of the first few to be exposed to the horrors of bio-experimentation.

Jayce read the reports that were publicly available, knows that what the other had been through would've been enough to leave other people without that same spark of determination alive. But here he was, still stubbornly shoving through, refusing to back down from a mission no matter the predicted danger. He was … a genuine man. Kind right down to his very core. Something that both amazes & triggers something in the tired scientist's chest. An odd mixture of guilt, admiration, something distinctly protective & mournful. It's all balled up in a confusing mess of feelings, growing bigger the longer he knows the other man. The more he learns of what it is they're really up against.

He can only do so much from his end to help, from logging away & securely documenting everything they came across in its full entirety. Just in case the BSAA turned out to be no better than the other companies they hunt, it's risky, but the fact the other understands this fear, shares it, does what he can to help.

It reignites a tiny spark of something hopeful. Optimistic. Reassured that not all of humanity was doomed to be greedy, selfish, evil or rotten. He continues to tap his pen again, noting how the silence seemingly doubled in tension. The repetitive noise does very little to quell down his thoughtful hum, only prompting him to scoff out a sigh as he rubs at his eyes.

Moving to stand, he reaches for his jacket from where it remains carefully draped over the back of his chair, slipping it over his shoulders before making his way over to the designated rest section. He shuts his thoughts down, trying not to let things anchor down deeper through the impending rabbit hole of trouble he knows is coming from the most recent update he'd been given from the sunny operative. Things would likely only get worse from here. Something everyone seemingly knew at this point.

The only thing he could try to do, was maybe steal some of Blackstone's seemingly endless optimism, try to emulate it as best he could if he wanted to stay together mentally with what the future held.

… easier said than done, he sighs, flopping over.

#➤ ꜰɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ . . . // in character.#nightlyvisitor #❝ you’re a new day rising ; you’re a brand new sky. ❞ . [ nightlyvisitor ]#◈ *virus hexed ( … ) resident evil verse

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 years

Text

Roaring Engines: Part 2

Fandom: Stranger Things (Biker AU)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You see a guy you haven’t seen since you graduated and moved out of Hawkins. Turns out he’s upgraded his D&D club to a biker club.

A.N: so i was planning on writing smut, but then i lost motivation. so now it just alludes to smut. also, it's a little short. i decided i'm gonna turn this into like a small series. no taglist though.

Eddie followed you into your home. It was small, but homey. Every corner was oozing with your personality and interests. Little knick knacks scattered about, pictures hung on the wall, decorating pillows and blankets on the couch.

His mind starts to wander...is this how the house would look if you and he stayed together and got married?

"You okay?"

He looks at you, concern written in your eyes. He softly smiles, "Yeah, I'm okay. Just checking the place out. It's nice. Very...you."

"Thanks. My bedroom is messy, by the way. Just fair warning."

He chuckles, "Guess you haven't really changed your organization skills, huh?" he asks as he follows you into your bedroom.

It wasn't as messy as you made it out to be. You had a few clothes scattered around. Your bed was unmade. You had some books and notebooks piled onto your bedside tables.

"Remember how messy my room would be?"

"Clothes and beer cans all over the floor, crumpled music sheets on your bed." you plop onto your bed, "How's Wayne?"

Eddie winces, "He, uh, he passed a few years ago. Heart attack."

Your face suddenly goes somber, "Oh, Eds...I'm so sorry."

He shrugs, "It's alright. Life and all that. Keeps kicking me down, but I continue to get back up again."

"Still. That must've been hard," you place a reassuring hand on his.

"It was, but I've moved on." he shakes his head, "We're not here to talk about me though."

He looks at you and licks his lips. He eyes your lips and slowly leans in. You cup the back of his head, bringing your lips to his. You pull him on top of you as you lay onto your bed.

When Eddie pulls away, you're looking softly in his eyes. You whisper, "I missed you, Eds."

To which he whispers back, "Missed you too, sweetheart," before pressing his lips to yours again.

________________

When you wake up in the morning, you're alone. You knew this was a one time thing, but you're still peeved at the fact that Eddie didn't even have the balls to say 'goodbye' to you.

You scowl and slide out of bed, immediately heading to the bathroom to shower.

You turn it on and then use the bathroom as you wait. After flushing the toilet, you test the water. The temp was just to your liking. You turn on your radio that rested on the counter, music softly blaring into the room.

You step in, letting the water cascade down your body. You look down to see some marks that Eddie had left on you. You hummed to yourself at the sight and continued to let your body warm up to the water. Your eyes are closed and you sway to the music. You get lost in the rhythm and the feeling of the water, that you jump when lips press against your shoulder.

"Fucking hell!" you scream.

Eddie laughs behind you, "It's just me, baby."

You glare at him over your shoulder and then face him, "Thought you left."

"I ran out for some coffee and donuts. Planned on making you breakfast, but you literally have nothing in your fridge. You need to go grocery shopping."

"Plan to today," you murmur, and grab the shampoo. Eddie swiftly plucks it out of your hands, squirting some onto your hair and then placing the bottle down. You hum at the feeling of his fingers massaging your scalp, "Thought you had to head out."

"Told the guys I'll meet them at the next stop."

"Why's that?"

"Thought maybe we could spend another day together?" his hands drop and you wash out the shampoo from your hair. You shake your head and then turn to Eddie again.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"I-I don't know."

"You broke my heart ten years ago. You said you missed me. I missed you too, but if you plan on hurting me again, then I suggest you leave."

"I wanna try again. Things are different now. I didn't mean to hurt you back then. You know I was just doing what's best for you."

"Will you let me decide how my life goes this time around?"

"Of course."

You hum and then nod to him, "You should still meet up with your little biker gang though."

"Why's that?"

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder, Edward. We'll see how we fare while you're on the road."

"I'll call you when I can." he states with a serious look on his face.

You smile at him, "You better," you reply and peck his lips. You turn your back to him and then hand him some soap, "Let's finish cleaning up shall we?"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things au #biker au #f!reader #female!reader

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backpockct · 1 year

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INTRODUCING AUBREY PHAN WRITTEN (AND LOVED!) BY CORRIE

⸻ have you ever heard SHAKE IT OFF by taylor swift , well it is AUBREY PHAN to a tee . the thirty two year old editorial assistant has been spotted wandering down portobello road markets just last sunday , do you know them ? would you say she is more distracted or more resilient anyway , they remind me of messy desks piled high with papers, the iphone notes app full of untouched to do lists, caffeine naps and always having a witty comeback for everything maybe you'll catch them around yeah ? ⸻ [ ◟ PATTI HARRISON. ◝ ]

triggers: mention of transphobia

THE BASICS:

full name: aubrey lan phan

birthday: 31st october 1990 (32 years old)

gender: trans woman (she/her)

sexuality: lesbian

relationship status: very single

BASIC INTRO:

aubrey is originally from lewisham in london, she has a vietnamese mother and an english father, they met at work.

she’s a sterotypical middle child, she’s got an older sister and a younger brother.

she was diagnosed with ADHD as a child, it was pretty obvious, she was a big ball of energy, all over the place, talking a million miles a minute.

her parents are very loving and they just want the best for her, but they do struggle with certain things.

for example, it took a lot of pushing from one of aubrey’s teachers to get her parents to take her for an ADHD diagnosis.

they just waved it off, calling her a hyperactive teenager, paying no attention to it.

ANYWAY, she realised from an early age that she was different, she wasn’t into the same things that other kids her age were into.

she liked to use her older sisters make-up, her older sister gave her make overs all the time.

aubrey and her sister used to do fashion shows for their parents all the time, their parents just thought it was funny, aubrey would put on a big act and pretend.

at school, again the same teacher noticed that something was up, she’d seen aubrey’s painted nails.

supporting aubrey, she came out, it was pretty scary for her but it definitely felt like the right thing to do.

she came out to her parents, they struggled, they weren’t so sure, they didn’t like it.

she chose the name aubrey, because, guess what?! it was the name of the teacher who’d helped her so much.

eventually her parents got used to it kinda they still slipped up but they were trying their best. but aubrey needed to get out of that environment, so off she went!!

she moved out of her parents home and went off to university (to study english) in central london, she was eighteen, just starting her journey to becoming a woman.

that’s were she met maryam joyce (@maryamjoyce) and for awhile the pair were in a situationship, they were both going through their own things & they found a lot of comfort in each other.

now as an adult, she’s a proud woman!!!! she’s incredibly happy!!!!

she’s got her own cute little flat with a cat, she’s working as an editorial assistant.

aubrey sees her parents occasionally but she’s not all that close with them, she’s still incredibly close with her siblings though and sees them reguarly. aubrey has created her own found family, with friends instead!!!!

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

siblings

friends

hook-ups / fwbs

exes

neighbours

co - workers

if you’d like to plot with any of my muses then please feel free to hit me up on discord @ corey in wetherspoons ™#0678!!

#nothillhqintro #☆ﾟ*・ﾟ you can always edit a page. you can’t edit a blank page — ↳ ooc

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poppy-metal · 3 years

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"The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.”

A/N: im placing this before the sexual side of their relationship begins. A prelude of sorts, if you will.

Cw: voyeurism, smut, dekus secretly dirty mouth.

All things considered izuku’s room was...not as gross as you expected a staple college aged guys dorm room to be. It was cluttered but not disgusting, posters of comics and figurines and manga and some clothes strewn about, everything kind of frenzied and haphazard. It was so incredibly deku, a secret smile pulled at your lips, even though your reasons for being here were less than innocent

He’s wearing fucking pink. Because of course he is, of course izuku is humble and comfortable in his masculinity enough to pull off a bright pink t-shirt. It hugs his chest too, and you have to wonder if literally any of his clothes fit him and the tits he decided to grow in college. His image is so utterly imposing, his smile so bright, and laugh so airy, it sends butterflies flipping through your stomach at just the sight of him and that makes you want to vomit. Your lips curl in a sneer and you’re walking towards him and the group of friends he’s talking to as if on reflex.

Stupid, lovely deku. You knock your shoulder into his as you pass, hard enough that his books clatter and fall to the floor, scattering. And then those green eyes are on you, giving you his attention and your body feels alive, your blood cells buzzing under your skin even as he frowns. The dimples on his freckled face fall as he takes you in. Yes, you think, look at me, see me, want me.

Out loud you say. “Watch where you’re going, stupid deku” and you’re looking at him like he’s the dirt under your shoe. He’s not. He’s the center of your universe. Your world tilts around his axis. “Pink isn’t your fucking color by the way”. it is.

Izuku huffs. He’s past the point where he used to turn as red as a tomato and duck his head whenever you stood in front of him, but he’s still deku at the end of the day. An easy target. “If looking at me bothers you so much you could just ignore me.” He crouches down to pick up his things. His words make you itch, if you could ignore him, you wouldn’t fucking be here. Its because he exists too much, that you want to push him down so much.

You step your manicured foot onto his notebook right as he’s about to grab it. He tugs at it, you dont budge, and he looks up at you, exasperated. “Can i have my notebook, please?”

Why is he so fucking pretty? God, you want to throw up. You dig your heel in further, covering the flutter you feel in your chest with a practiced sneer. “I like the way you say please, deku.” You lean down a little, “Say ‘your highness’ and i’ll move”

It’s a thrill, seeing the way his jaw sets, his brow furrows, his eyes go annoyed. Sweet, sweet, friendly izuku. You’re the only one he looks at like this, like he wants to throttle you. But he won’t. You see his adams apple bob, his cheeks dust pink, even as he glares. “No”

You pause. It’s not the first time he’s gotten snippy with you, but the conviction behind it is new. You feel something in your stomach give a jump, your blood thrumming in your ears. You jerk your foot towards you, sliding his notebook out from his hands and standing completely on top of it with both your feet now. Your sticky lips, glossy and plump, spread into a mocking grin, “No? Do i need to slam you into some lockers and take you lunch money?” You feel a thousand feet tall, towering above him still kneeling, you on the high ground, looking down at him below you, where he can’t reach you. Can’t ever see the truth. “C’mon pansy, you’re already on your knees anyway”

But he isn’t anymore. He jerks to a stand, and now he’s taller than you, but you puff your chest out, not letting that affect you. It always affects you. Not that he knows or ever notices. Your eyes are widening when he steps forward so you’re practically nose to nose and chest to chest. “I don’t have time for you” he snaps, irritated. And then he’s stepping away as suddenly as he stepped up, the rest of his things gathered in his arms, he shakes his head at you, a tendril of that mossy mousey hair falling into his eyes. “I gotta get to class”

And then he’s gone, brushing by you, disengaging. You stand there, your breath stuck in your chest, not moving. ‘I dont have time for you’ over and over again rings through your head like a mantra. You step off his notebook robotically and kick it across the floor. It bangs against a wall and you feel your fists clench, nail beds digging into your palms harshly. ‘I dont have time for you’

You turn on your heel, away from the direction of your class, fury blinding you. Anger in place of humiliation, vindication in place of being humbled. You don’t know what crawled up his ass and made him think he was above you all the sudden, but you weren’t having it, not the fuck at all.

And that’s how you found yourself snooping through izukus dorm, with the intention of finding some kind of dirt, or something to hold over his stupid head. He didn’t have time for you? How dare he act like he was better than you, like he had things more important to do than to indulge you. You were still so mad you wanted to throw a tantrum, kick and scream and claw his eyes out. Straddle his stupid broad waist and shake him until all he saw was you, you, you.

You really hated him. Hated that because of him you were basically a bully because any attention from him was attention you thrived and lived under. Maybe if you weren’t so prideful, so disgusted by the weakness of your own gooey emotions for him, you would have tried to be the center of his attention in a nicer way, but as it was you were in too deep. This was the sick game you played, and losing wasn’t an option.

You hated how much that made you similar to bakugou in a way. You didn’t like that guy, and even weirdly so, you wanted to gouge his fucking eyes out for the way he treated and talked to izuku. Was it jealousy or possesivness that drove you to want to be the only one who could rile izuku? You wondered, sometimes, if bakugou felt the same way about you.

It was the loss of control, for you. Better yet, it was the way you liked the loss of that control. You had always prided yourself on being strong willed and a perfectionist. But whenever your eyes so much as grazed izukus, all your emotions went rattling around your stomach in sick twisted ways, giving you goosebumps, making you...nervous. It was a crush that had turned into an obsession, wasn’t it? And you wanted to make izuku suffer not only for invoking those messy feelings, but for not seeming to return them as well. If he couldn’t love you or want you romantically or sexually, you’d force yourself onto his radar and into his head until thinking about anyone else was impossible. Until you squirmed under his skin as much as he squirmed under yours.

Acting like you didnt exist was unacceptable. Obviously you’d slacked off on your taunts and actions, if he could just brush past you so easily, not taking your bait. You needed to even the playing field again, and by even you meant you needed to be towering above him again.

Towering over him so you dont have the time to think about how much you want to be under him, your mind whispers at you as you pick through his room, trying to find anything incripting. Someone like izuku would probably have something utterly embarrassing like a diary or some weird porn magazines, shameless, helpless guy that he was.

You huff as you open his drawer next to his bedside, nearly slamming it back shut in shock at what you see there.

You’re not stupid. You’re a healthy, young woman with an active sexual imagination and access to the world wide web, to porn.

Izuku has a fleshlight in his drawer. Izuku has a sexytoy. Izuku. And its green.

Izuku has a sex toy that he probably uses. That he probably sticks his cock into and moves-

An absurd laugh barks out of you, shocked and helpless. Because while in your head you knew izuku had to be some kind pervert, what other explanation was there for the way he blushed and darted his gaze around like a ping pong ball whenever you leaned forward and get caught a glimpse under your blouse, this is...unexpected. Imagining izuku in explicit scenarios, doing lewd things, it was something you didn’t allow your mind to wonder to often over. You didn’t like the way you got all squirmy and meek whenever you thought too long about izuku without clothes.

You feel kind of squirmy now, hot and uncomfortable as you shift around and try to gather your wits back about you. Revenge, that’s what you’re here for.

With a shaky exhale you turn away from his dresser, your thoughts flitting around your head like annoying gnats. What, who, does he think about when he…? What does he look like? What does his...c- You shake your head, slap your cheeks, trying to center yourself from the images floating around, flustering you and distracting you.

You’re in the middle of lifting the covers on his bed to peek under it, see if there’s anything there, when you hear the handle on his door jiggle. You freeze, every muscle in your body locked frozen like a deer in headlights as the knob twists, and then catches. Right. You’d picked the lock with one of your hair clips and then made sure to lock it again behind you just in case something like this happened. And by the, “Ugh” on the other side of the door, yep that’s definitely izuku. You’re shoved out of your shocked state, and bolting for his closet door as you hear the jingle of his keys twist in the lock, trying your best to close the door as quietly as possible behind you, it swishing shut barely a second before the door to his dorm opens and you hear him step in.

Class must have let out early or something, you think huffily, gently rearranging yourself into a comfortable position on a pile of his clothes as he shuffles around his room. You hear the thumb of him dropping his books, the shuffle of his feet, the clutter of him taking off his shoes and the squeak of his mattress as he plops down on it.

You tuck your knees to your chest and roll your eyes, picking at your leggings as you wonder how long you’ll have to hide before he goes to the bathroom or something so you can leave. It’s fucking stuffy in his closet already, the air hot. Your hand touches the soft fabric beneath you, realizing you’re sitting on one of his hoodies. Its too dark to see which one it is, but you imagine it as your favorite red one. Maybe you’d steal it as compensation for him making you sit and wait in his dumb closet while he probably stared at the ceiling with no thoughts in his dumb brain.

You hear him sigh, loud and dramatic, and then a muffled scream/groan into his pillow. Your lips twitch, he’s such a fucking drama queen.

Your little smile drops off your face when you hear the sound of his drawer opening.

Oh god. Oh no.

Your face feels like there are embers burning under it as you hear the unmistakable sound of clothes being shucked, a zipper and and then flop, and then….a slick wet sound and a sigh of relief.

Your eyes feel like they are bugging out of your head. Izuku is really about to fuck his fleshlight with you hiding in his closet with him none the wiser. You feel suddenly embarrassed and hot all over, hiding your face in your knees as you hear him let out a moan. A loud one.

You’re on fire, every part of you. You don’t think you can take this, don’t think you can sit through this and listen to this, think you should just burst out of his closet and use your bravado to somehow flip the situation and make him feel humiliated for getting off in the privacy of his own room, like he’s in the wrong even though you had violated so many boundaries for even being here right now.

You could do it too, you know. You’re good at twisting things, at powering through the complicated mess of flustered feelings izuku makes you feel and making it his fault, making him back down and cower. You could do it...you’re uncurling your legs and pushing your hands under you in the middle of getting up to do so when-

“Fuck. ___” Your name. You freeze, for an unholy, goldy second you think you’ve been caught, that he has acquired x-ray vision and has spotted you but no. His voice isn’t surprised or upset its...breathless, airy. He moaned it.

The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.

Heat immediately shoots between your legs, your core throbbing unbidden in reflex to the sound, helpless to stop it, to have any other reaction. Your ass plops right back down. You turn slightly towards the door, pressing your side against it, your ear smooshed against the cool wood as you listen, as if drawn under a spell.

“You’re such…” You hear izuku pant, his voice deeper and more rough then you’ve ever heard it before. “A fucking brat”

Wet between your legs, seeping through your panties at his words, seemingly ripped out of him. God, he sounds pissed, wrecked. He cursed. You’ve never heard izuku curse before, never, even when you’d pushed him too far. Something really was different about today.

The slick sounds are more frequent now, steady and...and sounding like real sex you’d heard from porn before. Wet, sloppy, and slapping. Your knees knock together as you lean forward even more. There’s an invisible string pulling, tugging you forward, you want to see…

“Fucking slut” He grunts, and there’s a heavy slap, your breath catching in your fucking throat as you realize that...that must be the clap of his balls hitting the back of his fleshlight everytime he thrusts into it. “Always running your fucking mouth, looking down at me, so mean, you’re so fucking mean to me…uh..”

The sounds of sex fill the room and you can’t take it anymore, you’re burning, burning, burning, fuck the consequnces. You hesitantly and slowly turn the handle of the closet door, letting it slide open just a crack, enough for you to peek through, to get a glimpse.

His lean muscular back is the first thing you see, he’s facing directly away from his closet, thank god but oh god, that means you see..so much. The flex of his shoulder blades under his tan skin, the smattering of freckles over his shoulder, the long slender slope of his spine as it curves down his broad back, the dimbles at the bottom of his spine, flexing as he fucks his toy. His ass, because of course izuku would have a perfect round bubble butt. There are freckles there too.

Your eyes skate down, hungry to his large and heavy balls, low hanging and full, currently smacked right up against the base of the little pocket pussy he’s practically straddling on his bed.

It hits you again than, that deku is imagining that toy is you, he’s imagining fucking you in this position on his bed right now, imagining its your cunt hes pounding into, and your face he’s spitting those filthy words at.

Your hand is really moving without your permission when it slips under the band of your leggings into your panties, fingers immediately dipping between the slick folds of your pussy, silky and wet.

“-Wet” Izuku grunts, as you dip a finger just barely inside. “Fuck, i knew you’d be so fucking soft and good inside. Such a bratty girl would have a sweet cunt attached to her, huh?”

Fuck, where and when did izuku start speaking like this? His soft voice curling around such crude words is making you gush all over your fingers. You wish you could see the kind of face he was making when he said them.

“Yeah, you like taking my cock don’t you, baby?” He croons and if you close your eyes you can almost imagine he’s speaking directly into your ear, behind you. His thrusts get heavier, rougher, he lifts his leg up on the bed and you see a flash of the little green toy being fucked on his cock, big and angry looking. He’s being so brutal, hammering the thing down on his dick as he hips rut to meet every downward tug. “Milk it. Milk my fucking cock you whore. Wanna- fuck, wanna hear you say my name when you cum, want you to know who’s pouding that little pussy. The loser you fucking hate, yeah? Gonna cum for me?”

Yes, you whimper in your head in answer to him, your fingers curling deep, deep, inside, fucking yourself on them in earnest. He’s so big and you only caught a glimpse, but it was enough. Enough to know he’d fucking cleave you apart if he tried to fit that monster between his legs inside your tight little pussy. But you want it, god you fucking want it. You wanna feel him splitting you open, making you cream around him, making you beg for it. Making you bleed.

“One of these day” he says, his voice breathless but steady, even as it cracks. You know he’s close. “I’m gonna fucking snap. Im going to make you look me in the fucking eye and apologize for making me want you, and then im going to split that pussy open- fuck, im coming, fuck, fuck, fuck. Do you understand, b-bitch? Gonna fucking make you mine, yeah, take it, take your senpais cock you dirty fucking girl, ah!”

He slumps forward, hips humping into the toy and balls spasming as he pumps it full of his cum, shuddering deeply with little aborted whimpers. “Good girl, good girl” he pants, trailing off, giving one last little jerk of his hips before stilling.

You bite your lip so hard you draw blood to stop yourself from whimpering out loud. You pull your sticky fingers out of your cunt and shuffle back into the dark of the closet, curling in on yourself as izuku lays there, panting heavily for a few moments before moving.

You stay stock still as you hear him get up and shuffle around, his footsteps padding into the bathroom where you hear the door click softly shut. You spring up to your feet and don’t care if you make noise as you dart out of his room and into the hallway, sprinting like a bat out of hell as you make you way to the girls dorms.

You’ll think about how to reevaluate and recoup later. Right now you just really need to get to your bed so you can rut pathetically onto your own fingers and imagine izukus fat dick breaking you open. Never in a million years did you think he had those kinds of feelings for you, and you know it changes the whole game, is a whole other level of playing field where you now know he wants you on a physical level.

You feel powerless and lie you’re slipping again, don’t know how you’re going to point your finger at him and laugh when you know for every insult you throw his way, is another way hes fucking his toy at night, adding it as another thing to get you back for. If he ever snaps.

If. you want it to be a when, so bad, not an if.

You’ll make it a when. You’ll push him off the metaphorical cliff he’s teetering on to make it so.

#poppy speaks #my writing #deku smut #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya smut #bully!reader #izuku smut #midoriya izuku smut

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

Late Night Favor (Shadow Monster x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Explicit content up ahead (18+ ONLY), Oral, Fingering

Word Count: 4000 Words

Summary: A couple of small good deeds leaves you with a late night visitor, looking to repay a debt.

Request: "You unknowingly rescue a shadow monster and bring it home with you, after a couple days of lurking in the shadows of your home and recuperating it shows you just how thankful it is." I had this idea forever ago but was never able to execute it. My opening idea was that a few kids are shining flashlights at something, tormenting it, and you swoop in to save it and chase the kids away. You thought they were hurting a cat or something, but find nothing and head home.

What do you think? Would you like to take it on? I'd be honored if you would 😊

A/N: *Throws this into the street to appease for the fact I haven’t updated Out of the Woods in THREE MONTHS IM SORRY*

It was the perfect weather for a lazy day inside. The pitter patter of the rain on your window had almost lulled you back to sleep during breakfast, and the thunder had provided great ambiance for reading. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your pajamas and we’re enjoying a soap opera binge on the coach when the peace was disturbed.

At first it was just the sound of clattering trash cans, not uncommon from the alley outside your window. But then it was followed by the raucous laughter of teenagers, rocks being thrown against the concrete, and a sharp hissing.

You hoist yourself up and off the couch, meandering toward the balcony, expecting to see a bunch of kids fucking around; Maybe using the cover of the fire escape to hide from the rain and smoke some weed.

Ah, memories.

But instead, you see a huddled group of boys pointing a flashlight into the pile of garbage right by the dumpster. One of them picks up a pebble and throws it into the light beam, causing another hiss and a jerk of movement. The boys laugh even louder, the one on the right nudging the one with the flashlight.

“Dude, do it again!”

Flashlight agrees, quickly moving the light into another corner as the one on the left throws a rock in the opposite direction. A shape of pitch black hisses again, deterred by the rock and scared by the brightness. Your brow furrows.

“Hey!”

The boys jump, looking in all directions.

“What are you three doing down there?” They finally look up at you, messy-haired and bleary-eyed. They shrug and ignore you, one even throwing another rock, bigger than before. There’s a sad yelp as it collides with the blackness.

You grit your teeth, grabbing your jacket off a nearby shelf and yell again.

“Fuck off! Leave the poor thing alone!”

They all laugh insufferably, the way most stuck up teenagers do.

“Or what?”

You shrug on your raincoat, picking up the baseball bat you keep strategically placed by your couch.

“Or I’ll come down and make you, jackass!”

You kick open your fire escape, slippers already damp, and start marching down the staircases. The boys get the message and run away, still jeering and laughing. Seems you weren’t as intimidating as you’d like.

You shuffle down the fire escape, slowing down as you approach the poor creature. You lower your back and peak under the dumpster.

“It's okay, little guy, I won’t hurt ya.” You set down your bat and crouch, kissing your lips as you hold out your free hand. All you see is a hint of glowing eyes, nervously peering out, before the dark shape disappears completely, hidden by the shadow of the dumpster. You’re tempted to sit down and wait for it, hoping to check if the poor stray was injured, but the wet concrete looks unappealing. The bottom of your sweats are already drenched.

You stand up, sigh, and go back up the fire escape. You unlatch the dusty pet door on your sliding glass balcony and make sure to leave a hot thing of milk and some water just outside. You ponder going out to get cat food, but the well-timed weather report tells you to stay off the streets. Slumping back down on the couch, you keep on eye on your fire escape, hoping that whatever it was, it’s okay.

--------------

The next day is sunny, the rain clearing away any air pollution and leaving blue skies to shine down through your window, waking you up extra early. As you sit down with a cup of coffee, switching on the news before starting work, you notice the empty bowls on your balcony.

You set down the mug, walking over to the door and checking the bowls. Seems that little stray had needed the refreshment, as both were licked clean.

You refill them, making sure to add cat food to your grocery list.

--------------

After a long day of work, you’re feeling particularly domestic and decide to bake some cookies. Your brain is sore after staring at a screen for eight hours straight, a simple task like this is the perfect thing to keep it from melting completely.

You open up your window, letting the cool night air into your kitchen as you check on your baking cookies. Wiping flour off your pants, you turn on the radio and throw a glance to your living room.

You had set up a tiny blanket pallet right next to your pet door, the weatherman’s warning of another thunderstorm tonight having you worried for your stray. Hopefully a full belly of milk will convince them that your house is safe enough to find shelter in.

But the afternoon is beautiful, not too cold and not too hot, only the slight tang of metal in the air hinting to rain. With a ding from the oven, you take out the cookies and set them on a cooling tray on your window. The smell of cinnamon and sugar wafts over you as you take a sip of your tea, staring out into the city streets. Small puddles still speckle the pavement, catching the headlights of nearby cars and flashy billboards.

A quick sound, something hitting your balcony door, that jerks you out of your reverie. You set down your mug and slowly peek out from your kitchen, wondering if you should’ve grabbed a kitchen knife. But it’s just your pet door, flapping back and forth in front of two, now empty, bowls. Aww, seems your stray took a step inside. Too bad you missed it.

The gurgle of your stomach convinces you to take a crack at the cookies. If they were too hot, you could just wash them down with a nice glass of milk anyway. Maybe even put on a sitcom while you snack.

You lightly tap the top cookie; Warm, but not unbearable. Steam rises as you break it open, blowing in the middle and taking a tiny bite.

Fuck, good job _____.

They’re perfectly done, just soft enough to melt in your mouth. You grab two more, holding them in between your fingers as you hold the other half in your mouth. Maybe you could bring the batch into work tomorrow, give your coworkers a nice surprise. That is if you didn't have 10 tonight. But 20 should be just enough-

Huh, that’s weird. There's only 19, including the one still dangling out of your mouth.

You could’ve sworn you baked 20.

Well whatever. Your coworkers can handle not coming back for seconds tomorrow.

--------------

“Ow! Fuck!”

You bite your lip, trying not to yell out more curse words as you rub your stubbed toe. You limp to your kitchen, fumbling for the light switch to avoid another incident. All you had wanted was a midnight sweet snack, was that so difficult? You’d thought you could navigate your apartment pretty easily in the dark, but the pain in your foot says otherwise.

The light flickers as you finally find the switch, reminding you that you’re going to need to change the bulb sometime soon. But that's a problem for another day; Right now, it’s cookie time.

You don’t bother pouring yourself a glass or getting a plate, devouring the treat in three bites and throwing back a quick swig of milk. It’s almost midnight, not like anyone’s watching-

Oh, wait.

You slowly close the fridge door, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake the little stray curled up, asleep. The little ball of black was snuggled into the pallet, tossing and turning. A flash of lightning cracks outside your apartment, washing your living room with light. The ball jerks in shock, the thunder afterwards only frightening it more, forcing it to curl up even tighter.

You take small and light steps towards the tiny bed, not wanting to approach the scared beast too quickly. The room is lit up again by another lightning strike and the little stray forces it’s body backwards and away from the window. You crouch down real low, the small bits of light helping your eyes adjust to the layout.

“How are you doing, little guy?” You whisper, mostly to yourself, tapping your fingers against your carpet. Part of you wants to pet it, but think it might be better not to. No need to startle it. “Is the lightning scary? You can come to my room if you want, I’ll protect ya.”

Midst the black, you see two little eyes, little blips of light that open with another flash of lightning. But they aren’t yellow, nor are they slitted, nor are they anything remotely animal.

They're like the headlights of a car, blinding white with no definition at all. Not even pupils. You're startled, eye’s widening as the creature lifts it’s head. A long smile runs across their face, full of razor sharp teeth.

“Oh my, that sounds delightful.” They purr, and you find yourself losing your footing and falling back on your ass. Your fingers dig into the carpet as their body slowly begins to unfurl out of a ball and stretch into a massive form, as if their whole size had been hidden away somewhere else; Like it had been literally in the shadows.

You scramble backwards, breath picking up as the creature stretches it’s long limbs, colorless eyes still locked onto you as it stands up and up. It rolls back its shoulders as it sits on its haunches, its form still towering over you even when crouched. You notice the shades of huge antlers sticking out from the side of their head, only adding to their intimidating height.

The creature still has that terrifying smile, all canines and no molars, it’s unblinking eyes still staring deep into your soul.

You’ve heard people do weird things in times of high stress, of strong emotions, good and bad. Like the wires in your brains get crossed when trying to find the right response.

“Uh, do you want a cookie?”

You think you get that now.

The creature chuckles, a soft timbre that echoes unnaturally.

“No, dearie, I have already indulged in your confections. You see,” They creature leans forward, falling to its knees to crawl towards you. If it weren’t for the overwhelming fear constricting your heart, you’d almost think it was seductive, “You’ve done so much for me these past days, I think it’d be only fair if I helped you indulge in a far-” The creature’s face looms over yours, their arms caging your sides as they lick their lips, “-sweeter treat, yes?”

Your eyes search their face, trying to find signs of trickery or malice, maybe even some demonic sense of humor.

As if I’d even know what that looks like.

“Are you-” You catch a breath, now noticing the fine musculature of their shoulders, and the definition of their arms, “Are you propositioning me, like, for sex?”

The creature laughs again, their eyes crinkling up as they throw their head back. But when they look back down at you, you can almost feel the lust radiating off their gaze, details be damned.

“Yes, lovely, I am.”

You take your eyes off their face, a little too overwhelmed to stare directly into their blistering expression. Not to mention the blinding light which has begun to put red spots into your vision.

Instead, your eyes fall upon their thick thighs, the small tail waving behind them, and how unnervingly sexy you find the way their claws are digging up your rug.

You slowly move your head, catching the creature’s eyes.

“I-uh-I guess? Yeah, yeah I guess that sounds good. Um, what was your name?”

The creature smirks, a single claw tipped finger tilting up your chin, as they whisper,

“Nocter.”

--------------

Well, this is definitely the weirdest way I’ve gotten someone into bed.

Nocter’s antlers brush against your stucco-ceiling as it pushes you down on the bed, their shining white eyes staring deep into yours. Their lack of pupils is almost unsettling, but when they run their claws down your chest and pinch your nipples, you find it hard to care. You bite your lip, fighting back an embarrassing whimper as they trace one finger around the bud, pebbling the skin.

“Aww, has it been a while, sweetling?” You roll your eyes, but let out another squeak as they flick their thumb across your other nipple, the palm of their hand pressing against your ribcage.

“M-maybe.” You mutter, digging your finger into your bed sheets as their hands dance across your skin. One pulls up the bottom of your pajama shirt as it nudges one of their legs in between your thighs, pushing their knee up against your crotch.

“Don’t worry,” They push the fabric up to your neck, laying a kiss on the center of your stomach, then your chest, and then your jugular. When they plant one on your jaw, they lean in real close, “I’ll make sure to treat you right.”

Nocter’s long tongue splays against your jaw, licking a stripe up your cheek as one of their hands moves from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. They slip a couple fingers underneath, lightly petting the area right above your crotch. They’re such a tease, and you love it.

Nocter pecks the side of your face, over and over, while their hand moves further and further down your body at an agonizing pace. Their hot breath sends goosebumps down your neck, washing over your face as they exhale with every kiss. You catch them off guard when you turn your head toward them, catching their lips-mid peck and eagerly sticking your tongue outward. They purr with delight, their thin almost-lips quickly devouring you.

A long string of saliva connects the two of you as you detach, taking the time to shimmy out of your shirt. You pull them closer, your hands digging into their shoulder muscles and fingers just brushing over the long ridges on their back. They chuckle once again, pulling their fingers out your shorts and merely digging their palm into the fabric of your crotch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” You mumble in between kisses, “This is for me, isn’t it?”

“Ohoho,” kiss, “Someone’s showing their feisty side a little early.” kiss, “What happened to my benevolent, saintly saviour?” kiss.

You pull away from their lips, quickly latching onto the crux of their neck and taking a nip. “S’not fair.” You say, taking a deep whiff of their skin as you suck and bite. They smell like brimstone and a bonfire, not quite what you 're expecting, but not unpleasant. “You can’t tease me like that and not-” Your cut off as the pad of one Nocters fingers presses up against your entrance, the fabric only amplifying the sensation as they begin to tease it.

“Deliver?” Nocter finishes, sinfully smug. You throw them a glare. “I’m a good guest, scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes right before they lock you into another kiss, rubbing the pads of their fingers up and down your crotch. They use their hand to push you backwards, sinking deeper into the mattress as they situate their knees under your thighs. One they pull back from the kiss, your face and lips thoroughly debauched, your legs are splayed up on their pelvis and they easily slip off your bottoms. Nocter takes a whiff of your underwear, the crotch now slightly damp, giving you a wink before they throw it over their shoulder.

You jerk your hips slightly upward, and Nocter tuts.

“Patience, sweetling.” They roll a hand down your abdomen, fingers splaying onto your stomach, nails just teasing the skin. With a kiss to your inside calf, Nocters hand ghosts across your entrance. You can’t help biting your lip, the heat and their touch sending your mind into a frenzy.

They continue a path of kisses down your leg, now pressing their finger right up against your hole. They only pause to suck on their index and middle fingers, coating them with a heavy and blue-tinted saliva. Once they’ve reached the middle of your thigh, nipping at the apex, they sink into you.

Nocter’s fingers are long, articulated and move with sure movements. They start off slow, scissoring you open, simpering as you dig your nails into your bed sheets. The pads of their fingers push against your walls, just grazing sensitive spots as they make a slow ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips jerk forward, humping into their palm. They smirk against your skin, nipping another love bite as they retract their fingers until only the tip remains. You catch your breath, holding it until they sink back into you, shoving their fingers forward with far more force.

You whimper as their fingers pull back, only to follow with quicker thrusts. Nocter’s aim is pin-point in finding the most pleasurable spots inside you, the feeling only amplified by the pinpricks of their teeth into the fat of your thigh. The tip of their tongue licks hot trails of spit tantalizingly close to your hole, which clenches around their bony fingers. The slick sound of your juices, the skin of their palm slapping against yours, is downright pornographic.

Your legs try to clamp around their shoulders, the overwhelming stimuli triggering an instant reaction, but Nocter pins your right leg down to your bed easily, never losing focus on fingering you. The tips of their claws trace the inside of your leg, the hard edge of their wrist digging into fat. Your fingers reach to grip around something, anything to keep you grounded as the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. They find their way around Nocter’s left wrist; You’re almost afraid you’ll leave bruises, before remembering how sturdy every part of their body seems to be.

You let out a whimper as the crests of an orgasm seem to overwhelm you, nearly gasping as Nocter quickly removes their fingers. In any other state of mind you might have made a comment, look down and wonder why they’ve stopped. But the heat in your belly compels you to grip their wrist tight and to throw your hips upwards. With a desperate breath, you plead,

“P-please! Please, don’t stop.”

Nocter doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t make a sly remark about your neediness or your lewd movements. They lean forward, giving another kiss right below your navel, and pet your wrist.

“Of course, dearie.”

With a wink, they lean down a lick a long stripe up your hole, giving one last kiss to your leg before plunging their tongue inside.

You didn’t think it was possible for them to reach even deeper inside you with their tongue than their fingers, but the sparks which fly in your core say otherwise. The ridges of Nocters tongue brush against your walls as they flick the appendage back and forth, the tip pressing forward with controlled motions. It doesn’t thrash back and forward haphazardly, but reaches for those sensitive spots and plays with them.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You yelp, feeling an icy-cold liquid run down your ass. From the sound of smacking lips and muffled moans, it must be Nocter’s saliva. They let out a groan, pushing their jaw forward as their eyes clenched shut. The hand on your leg pinches skin as it tightens up, the other pressing your hips down, but the pressure they apply is phantom at best. Nocter seems to revel in your pleading humps for more, meeting each movement with a thrust of their jaw, the base of their tongue stretching you open.

The two of you keep that rhythm for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a couple of minutes. Sweat drips down your chest and off of your belly, your legs muscles on fire as you continue to push upward and into Nocter’s face. You start feeling that impending wave begin to crest again, with your limbs shaking and your throat hoarse.

“Nocter, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-I’m so close!”

This time, Nocter doesn’t let up on their pace, reaching one hand down to deliver a hard slap on your ass and forcing a yelp out of you. Your speech devolves into slurred curses and your hands move to touch them, to find some grasp in reality. Nocter continues to suck and tongue-fuck your hole as your thighs clench around their head. Your humps are tiny and weak, your lower half barely holding itself up.

The knot gets tighter, a firecracker fuse about to blow in your abdomen. In the heat of the moment, your hands find their way to Nocter’s scalp and grab onto the base of their antlers. Their moan rumbles through you, right before you yank their head forward, their tongue hitting the deepest part of you as you shutter and-

“I’m cumming!”

Another moan vibrates against your hole as your body shudders and jolts, your hips still pressed firmly against Nocter’s face. But in the next moment, a heavy weight falls over your body, slumping you down onto the bed. Your chest heaves, eye’s fuzzy as Nocter’s tongue ‘pop’s out of you.

Your gaze wanders over your stucco ceiling, droplets of sweat rolling down your neck as you try and catch your breath. You can feel Nocter’s large hands rolling a massage into your thighs, their own heavy breathing brushing over your crotch.

A fuzzy shape of pure black comes into your vision as Nocter hovers over you, their body hovering just an inch above yours. They give you a small peck on the cheek.

“Feel good?” They whisper.

All you can do is nod, your shaky hands wandering over their back. There’s no sign of sweat on their skin, but you can feel the heat running off of it as they nuzzle into your neck.

As your fingers dance over the ride of their back, you can hear the rumble of a low purr coming from their chest, but they stay hovering over your body. You press your hands into their back, applying weak pressure to encourage them to relax.

“It seems I’ve repaid my debt.” Nocter murmurs into your ear, pushing themselves up onto their hands, pulling even farther from you as their eye’s look around your room. You keep your hands wrapped around their waist, stopping them from fully getting up. They look back to you, white eyes slightly widening.

“Would you-” You take another deep breath, “Want to stay? For the night?”

Nocter stares at you, the black void of their face almost unreadable. But when they run a claw down the side of your face, it burns with affection and longing.

“Would you want that?”

Your room is nearly pitch black, only the lights of the street peeking in between your curtains. Nocter’s body seems to absorb all light near it, their hot body like a heating pad. But their eyes are so bright, so full, so mesmerizing; Like a full moon on the dark city sky.

“Yes, I would.”

Nocter’s nods, their expression barely changing, but you think you can see a hint of a smile amidst all the black. They let their body relax, pressing their chest against yours as they sink into the sheets and nuzzle back into your neck.

You can smell the sweat coating your body and feel the way you stick to the sheets. Frankly, the both of you kind of smell.

But it doesn’t stop you from snuggling into Nocter’s body, eye’s heavy as you peacefully fall into sleep.

#my writing #gender neutral reader #shadow monster #monster/human #monster x reader

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sixofpomegranates · 2 years

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i have bpd and bipolar and when i get upset i say and do a lot of things i don't mean, sometimes it ruins relationships bc i cant control my reactions and most people don't get it. i fall in love with people so easily and it destroys me when my mental illness makes them leave. spencer and his live in gf get into a lot of minor fights that pile up, she blows up on him a lot and the day she confesses she loves him, he tells her he can't be with her anymore bc he isn't sure he can love her like this. they break up, she's destroyed, and he realizes he is in love with her.

♘ 𝚁𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 ♞

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

A/N: Rough one, rough. Hard on the emotions. I hope I represented you enough and I hope it gives you guys the most comforting comfort. Because you deserve to be loved.💕

CW: Angst & Comfort, Fluff | Mentions of Medication/Therapy, Reader is with Mental Illness (BPD, Anxiety, Bipolar), Past Self-Harm (Cutting), COVID19-Lockdown, Big Fight, Fear of Abandonment/Breakup, Crying, Mentions of consuming of Food/Drinks, Nosebleed,

**********

*picture does not describe the looks of the reader*

**********

German novelist and poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethe once said, "Love grants in a moment what toil can hardly achieve in an age."

And although that might've been true for some, it definitely didn't apply to Spencer and [y/n]. Goethe had probably never meant this saying for people with mental illnesses anyway.

Love, as beautiful as it was, wasn't enough to achieve a healthy relationship.

Psychiatry describes Borderline Personality Disorder as a personality disorder characterized by impulsiveness, extreme mood swings, and often anger.

Psychiatry describes Bipolar Disorder as an affective disorder characterized by periods of mania alternating with periods of depression usually interspersed with relatively long intervals of normal mood.

The dictionary describes the word Disorder as a problem, a messy state – a lack of order or organization, or explains it as an illness that causes a part of the body to stop functioning correctly.

[y/n] did get diagnosed in college, a girl in her dormitory had noticed her scars, stemming from cutting herself. From there on the diagnosis had come rather fast and brought explanations to the vast amount of emotions and behaviors she had lived through all her life, lacking a chance of understanding what was going on, or controlling them.

Chaos was the word [y/n] would frequently use to describe her state of mind,while Spencer would always chuckle and tell her it was okay as long it was organized chaos.

They had been dating for quite some time now, even had moved in together after [y/n]'s lease on her apartment had run out.

For a long time, it felt like cloud nine living together, being little hermits and cuddling up at home all weekend long. Chaos was composed and [y/n] had all her routines down.

That was until this little virus from China hit the States, wrecking her routine like a wrecking ball would hit a brick wall.

Therapy was postponed until further notice, going out was canceled, and Spencer would have to work from home unless there was a case.

All those things, Spencer had thought to be able to handle, even the one-hour drive every other week just to get her medication seemed manageable.

But the one most stressful problem crystalizing itself out after a few weeks was them being together every single minute of the day.

[y/n] loved Spencer deeply, more than she had ever loved someone before, and even thinking how far they had come in their relationship still seemed like a beautiful dream.

But [y/n] had her routine.

Waking up she would waddle into the kitchen and make herself some breakfast, then she would take her pills, and clean up around the apartment.

After a while of doing things that made her happy, may it be following a new, at the moment interesting hobby, reading, or re-watching her favorite TV shows, she would do her daily chores, buy groceries, and go to therapy.

Usually, if not on a case, Spencer would be at home once she came home, and from there on they would make dinner and spend every second glued together.

Now he was here every moment of the entire day.

There was no room for her routine because Spencer wasn't part of this routine.

Now it felt like their weekends, which was fun the first few days but quickly had lost its appeal.

No matter how madly in love you are, you simply need some time to yourself. Moments that solely belong to you. Even if it is just sitting on the couch and watching Rory fall for Jess the one-hundredth time.

Spencer knew that this disturbance in her routine would be a challenge for [y/n] and their relationship as a whole, he wasn't stupid. He had even offered her to leave the apartment for a while so she'd have time on her own.

Once she had excepted it but when she realized that he had nowhere to go and just had sat in his car and then in the nearby park for three hours, she had sworn to never expect it again, not even mention that she needed space.

It had made her feel like the most terrible person on earth and she had cried for hours, even as Spencer had cuddled up next to her, assured her that she didn't even come close to a bad person, and he hadn't mind giving her some space.

Week four, however, had become unpleasant. Both were sick of being at home and they had even caught themselves hoping for a serial killer running amok and causing Spencer to leave for a case.

By now, Spencer was [y/n]'s stressor. She hated the way she couldn't watch TV without him talking, how he rambled, how he chewed his food.

She loved him but, oh, did she hate him.

And she hated the virus that also scared the shit out of her.

She hated this never-ending weekend.

She hated everyone and everything. But if she would share her thoughts with Spencer, she knew he would leave her, and that she wouldn't have been able to handle.

*****

It finally escalated one morning. There was not just her nagging or being angry at his existence, there was a volcano interrupting in the middle of the living room.

A rational person wouldn't see what had caused it, hell, not even [y/n] was quite sure what had but even looking at Spencer made her violently angry.

As she ran into the bedroom, slamming the door shut and crawling under the sheets, she hoped she would be able to calm down before saying even more regretful things she didn't mean.

Sadly, Spencer hadn't gotten the giant 'Leave me alone' memo. Walking into the bedroom, he brushed over her head.

She quickly backed away. No, he made her angry, he didn't get to touch her.

"Sweetheart..." He mumbled. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Go away," she hissed annoyed, but he stayed persistent. Which was both good and bad because she didn't want him to leave but simply wanted him to leave her alone.

"Not until we talked about it. You know my mother always found it helpful-"

God, not his mother again. She groaned loudly to interrupt him, "Just shut up for once. I so don't care about what your damn mother found helpful."

"[y/n], you're becoming hurtful," he stated slightly aggravated. The last weeks had been hard on him too, it wasn't like he had chosen this situation.

"I don't give a fuck, just leave me alone," she cussed, jumping out of bed, wanting to lock herself into the bathroom so she'd at least have a little bit of privacy.

Spencer, however, had been fast enough to have a foot in the door before she could close it. Like a child having a tantrum, she tried closing the door with her full body weight, Spencer prevailing in the art of making her angry by continuing to hold the door open and talking to her.

"Fucking leave me alone. Fuck, I hate you so much right now," her voice continued spitting uncontrolled words like venom.

Finally, as he took his foot out, she didn't think twice, slamming the door shut. A loud thud outside and Spencer cursing profanities, causing her to open the door again.

Hand covering his face, he shoved her aside to grab a towel and look himself into the mirror.

She had hit him in the face with the door.

[y/n] hadn't wanted that.

"Spence, I'm so-" He interrupted her loudly. "Shut up. Just... Just be quiet, please."

Stepping closer, she tried grabbing his arm, waiting to see just how badly she had hurt him. "I- I didn't mean to..."

Her voice fell silent as he pushed her arm away, walking out of the bathroom.

Walking after him like a lost puppy, she could see him wiping away the last bit of blood seeming to come from his nose.

"I don't know what to do anymore," he told her, the lack of emotion in his voice scarring her immensely. "I'm trying really hard, [y/n]."

"I- I know," she whimpered, making him sigh. "What else can I do? What is irritating you so much?"

Desperate, with tears in her eyes but still angry she said, "I- I don't know." "Than, for the love of God, think of something, because I am reaching a breaking point here."

"I need my space. I want my routine back. You're keeping me from doing my stuff," she finally whimpered.

Spencer frowned, "You can do everything you want while I'm-" "That's not the same," she now screamed. "I- I don't want you here. I- I can't..."

With wide eyes, he asked, "Do you want me to leave?" [y/n] frantically shook her head. "No. No, don't leave me."

Trying to control her tears and emotions, she began to harshly rub her temple. Maybe the feeling of it would make her able to control herself.

Quickly she felt a hand on hers, Spencer pulling her hands away. "Hey, hey. [y/n] stop that," he whispered.

Instead of seeing his worry, she only saw him trying to control her. Stepping back, she looked angrily at him. "Or what? You gonna walk out on me?"

Swallowing his hurt feeling, Spencer said, "Yes."

This one word was like a hit in the face for [y/n]. So often she had been left by people she loved, only because she said and did stupid, hurtful things she didn't mean.

"B-But I love you. I- I didn't mean..." she sobbed.

His nose hurt, his heart as well. She hadn't meant it but nobody wants to hear that the person they love the most hates them.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Spencer felt the need to run. He couldn't stay here. They were too much like his parents right now and he was in the position of his father.

"I know," Spencer answered while fighting tears, putting the dirty towel aside. "I- I just... This is too much. I'm sorry."

Grabbing his coat and keys, he stormed out, hearing [y/n] starting to cry uncontrollably.

*****

The world certainly was crazy at the moment. There was no toilet paper to buy anywhere in this store, just like bananas and flour.

Seriously, were people preparing for a national diarrhea catastrophe only homemade banana bread could cure?

Readjusting his facemask, he continued to shop for all the little trinkets he knew they needed at home. Everything to have him out of the apartment for a while.

He had reacted wrong, although, there probably hadn't been a right way to handle this anyway. [y/n] had been on edge for days now. One way or another it was destined to bite him in the ass somehow.

While grabbing [y/n]'s favorite snacks, hoping they would cheer her up once he would come home, he noticed a little girl walking around and crying for her mother.

"Hey, Hi," Spencer approached the girl carefully. "Are you looking for your mommy? Are you lost?"

The girl, around four, babbled something through her heavy tears that he couldn't quite make out, except for that everyone was wearing masks. She had probably problems with identifying her mother.

"Where did you last see your mommy?" He asked gently, leaning down.

"By the cookies," the girl sniffled, and Spencer smiled holding out his hand. "Do you want us to go look for her?"

Quickly shaking her head, the girl exclaimed, "Stranger danger."

He nodded to himself, technically she was correct. Her mother had taught her right. "You're absolutely right about that. You should never go with strangers. But look."

Taking out his badge and ID, he handed them to the girl, kneeling down. "I'm Spencer and I work for the FBI. See that funny-looking guy?" he pointed at his picture. "That's me."

Pointing at the picture of him and [y/n] he always kept tucked in by his ID, the girl asked, "Who's that?"

He smiled a little seeing the love of his life with her arms thrown around him. "That's my girlfriend [y/n]."

The girls grinned at him, "Your girlfriend is pretty." He nodded. "I know. The prettiest."

Spencer jumped up from the floor like a frog as a woman behind him loudly exclaimed, "Lilly! Oh my gosh, there you are!"

Running past him and lifting her child up, she turned to Spencer eying him up and down. She was probably just about to beat him with her handbag for being a stranger talking to the lost little girl, but her daughter handed her his ID.

"Mommy, look," the girl said, pointing at the photo next to the ID. "That's his girlfriend."

The woman studied the ID, handing it back to Spencer. "I'm sorry if she caused you any trouble, Doctor."

Putting his ID away, he waved the woman off, "Don't worry. She's actually pretty smart. The stranger danger lesson is really important for young children."

Setting her child into her shopping cart, she sighed. "God, that's been a day." Looking at her groceries and then at Spencer's she laughed. "So you didn't get any toilette paper either, huh?"

He shook his head, chuckling, "No. They're also out of bananas and flour." "Noticed that. People are going a little coo-coo right now but can you blame them? One that to another, everything is different and any of our routines is gone."

Spencer only nodded, feeling like a hit had been placed right into his stomach. If mentally healthy people already struggled at times like this... For [y/n] every emotion felt like held under a magnifying glass.

"Yeah," he answered. "My girlfriend is really hating all of this."

"Kicked you out, huh?" the woman laughed with risen eyebrows. "Don't worry about it. Being stuck at home together 24/7 causes to best relationships to shake. Yesterday my husband and I fought because he was chewing too loudly during my soap opera."

He said his goodbyes to the woman and her daughter after she was done ranting a little about her husband. It looked like she had needed that outlet and somehow it was like Spencer had needed it too.

He and [y/n] weren't the only ones fighting, the only ones with messed-up routines. Sure, [y/n] struggled more with handling it than your Everyday-Joe but it wasn't like she did it on purpose.

Checking their linked to-do list app on his phone, he could see just how much of the things she normally did had stopped with the lockdown. Her brain worked differently in their time together than it did when she was on her own.

This last month had felt like a very long weekend for Spencer, and while he had enjoyed the relaxed nature of it, [y/n] had desperately waited for a Monday to arrive so she could finally do all the things she normally did when she was alone.

He sighed. Right now, she was probably at home, thinking he'd never return. Too often had people done something like this to her, unable to withstand the pressure.

But he wasn't them. And he was definitely not like his father and would run.

William hadn't been able to withstand the ups and downs. The rollercoaster had made him never return. But if being with [y/n] meant having to ride this rollercoaster from time to time, Spencer was determined to do it, even if it scared him or made him sick.

*****

[y/n] hadn't believed it, but Spencer had actually come home. She had been crying on the couch for hours, already thinking about where she'd have to live all on her own, about how she would never get to see Spencer again.

"You're back," she whimpered as he put the shopping bags onto the dinner table.

"Of course I am, Sweetheart," he smiled, starting to unpack all those snacks she loved so and ate at a special pace until she started sharing them with Spencer a month ago.

Happy tears ran down her cheeks as she mumbled, "They usually don't come back."

"Well, then it's good I'm not them," Spencer chuckled, walking up to her and kneeling. "Hey," he cooed, and quickly she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug that made it hard for him to breathe.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, making him pull out of their hug and take her hands. "I know. I really do," he assured her. "Come with me. I bought us someting."

They walked to the dinner table and Spencer lifted a big, magnetic planner whiteboard onto the desk. On it were already his scribbles and cute little magnets holding pictures of them both.

"What's that?" She asked confused and he smiled. "Our lockdown routine." Pointing out some of his notes he said, "As you can see, I took your normal routine and tuned it a little. I'll have my work hours in which I will regularly do my work and you can do whatever you want. And after lunch, there is a quiet hour because I know you normally take a nap after it when I am not home. I also talked to your therapist and they are now offering online counseling. She will call you tomorrow to make out the appointments."

The eager hopefulness made [y/n] shake her head. "Why? Why are you doing all of this?" She asked confused.

"Because I love you," Spencer said.

She still shook her head a little. "You know it would be easier to love somebody who isn't a total nutjob, right?"

"Don't mind. I like a good challenge," Spencer shrugged, handing her a little pink octopus with a grumpy face. "That's also for you. I thought you could put the little guy somewhere I can see and if it's a bad day or you just need space, you'll have him look grumpy."

This sweetness was what had her initially fall for Spencer. He was better than anything she thought to deserve.

Stepping closer to her, he smiled. "And if he's happy, I am allowed to cuddle and kiss you as much as I want."

It was heartbreaking for both. For Spencer to see her not believing to deserve to be loved although she was the love of his life, and for her, it was the fear that she was going to ruin this. If not now, then at least the next time she felt like everything was too much.

She had always ruined her relationships this way.

"What if I'm going to become worse than today?" She asked, thinking about making it quick and breaking up now before he would truly start resenting her along the way.

He smiled. "You're not going to scare me away." "Spencer-"

Interrupting her, he started holding her hands and the little octopus between them. "Look, I am terribly sorry that nobody ever seems to have loved you enough to power through those rough patches with you. But I am not them, and I am not going to leave."

"But-" Spencer flicked her nose, not letting her sabotage herself. "Nope. You're not getting rid of me that easily, Sweetheart."

Leaving her a few minutes to think and calm down, he put away the things he had bought. As he came back from the kitchen, [y/n] sat on the couch, the little octopus on the coffee table flipped inside out, now being blue and smiling.

He sat down on next to her on the couch, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss on her cheek.

Goethe was wrong to say that love can achieve more and quicker than hard work can. Because nothing is always picture-perfect, hard work is what helps us keep love alive.

It asks a lot from you to love and be loved, it can get scary and messy, but it is truly rewarding.

Like the Chinese philosopher, Lao Tzu once said, "Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."

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