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#anyway i was very very lazy and i should be in bed already as in 5 hours the alarm is gonna kick me out of bed
flyingspicerack · 8 months
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Okaaaay daydreaming time then sleeby nienie eveyone!!
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violettaskies · 7 months
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Of Books & Beasts
Prompt: virginity
Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader
Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope
Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!
ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts
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-:-:-:-:-
The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 
Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 
With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.
“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 
“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 
“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 
“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 
But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 
“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 
The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 
“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 
“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 
“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 
-:-:-:-:-
You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 
However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.
“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 
“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 
“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 
“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 
Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 
Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 
“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 
“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 
However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 
Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 
No. 
This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 
“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 
“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 
“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 
“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.
Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 
“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 
The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 
“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 
You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 
What a dream. 
“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 
“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 
“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 
They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 
It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 
Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 
“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 
Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 
But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 
You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 
The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.
But you were so wrong. 
Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 
Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 
Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 
-:-:-:-:-
Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 
His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 
As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 
Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 
You were about to become the death of him tonight. 
Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 
“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”
Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 
If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 
“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 
“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 
“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 
“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 
Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 
Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 
“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 
“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”
The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 
“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 
“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 
“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 
Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 
“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud
“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 
“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 
“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 
You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  
“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”
“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 
“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 
Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 
“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 
“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 
“Y-yes, I would be.” 
After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 
“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.
“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 
“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 
“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 
In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 
No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 
“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 
“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  
“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 
“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 
You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 
“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 
“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  
“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 
“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 
All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 
The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 
“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 
“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 
“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.
Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 
“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 
“More, please.” 
“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 
“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 
Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 
“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 
“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.
But, you were wrong, so wrong. 
As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 
“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 
“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 
You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.
“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 
Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 
The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 
“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 
“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 
“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 
Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 
The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  
“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 
“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 
“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 
The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 
You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 
“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 
“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 
“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 
And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 
“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 
Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 
“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 
“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 
The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 
“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 
“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 
“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 
Fuck. 
Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 
The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”
“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”
“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 
You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 
“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 
With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 
“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 
“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 
“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 
Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 
You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 
“Let's use a little, Steve.” 
“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 
“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 
Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 
“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 
Just the tip — you said the words before. 
But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 
This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 
“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 
“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 
“Feels nice.”  
“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 
Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 
Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 
“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  
“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 
“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 
He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 
“Need more — need you to go faster.”
“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 
“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.
In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 
“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 
Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 
“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 
“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 
You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 
One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  
“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 
“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”
“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.
“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 
Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  
“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 
“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  
“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 
Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 
And he did. 
Good god, he did. 
“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 
“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 
He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 
For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 
You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 
“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 
“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 
“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 
“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 
Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 
“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 
Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 
“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”
You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 
“Another day?” 
“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 
“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 
If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 
-:-:-:-:-
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livinginshambles · 9 months
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Not ridiculous at all | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: You are part of the marauders, always having felt special when they called you part of the gang, but also consequently too embarrassed to admit to wanting to be more feminine, afraid that they would no longer deem you cool enough to hang out with you. You are hurt by James' comments and James might realise something when you're avoiding him.
Notes: Best friend!James, he's a bit stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, arguments, so maybe a little angsty, but not really, classic cliche tropes like friends to lovers, misunderstandings, pining (I literally just dreamt this so it's a bit patchy) and I know it's very stereotypical but that's why it's just fanfiction :)
(PS) I haven't written before, just wanted to get this out of my system. English is my third language, and this fic is not proofread because I'm way too lazy for that! Enjoy!
Part two Masterlist
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You've grown up with James Potter and have been part of the marauders since the very beginning. You always took 'being one of the guys' or 'part of the gang' as a compliment, it left you feeling giddy as if you were included in some secret group that only you had the privilege of belonging to.
But sometimes you would sit in the girls dormitory and despite your friends laughing and chatting about, you would feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. They often did activities together and by now, 6th year at Hogwarts, they've managed to stop asking you to join them as you've always dutifully replied that it 'wasn't your thing'.
I mean, what would the guys think of you? It would be too embarrassing to admit to them, or anyone for that matter, that you would love to be dolled up for once. To go shopping with your friends, be included in movie nights, asked by Alice if she could test some makeup on you, or read and gossip about the new romance novels that were the new hype.
Especially now when you sat on your bed, part of the circle in which they were discussing plans to go dress shopping.
"You should absolutely join us!" Alice squealed in delight. You were shaken out of your train of thoughts with a huh and realized the conversation had taken a turn somewhere and now included you too. Marlene and Lily nodded fervently in agreement but you bashfully shook your head.
"Nah, can you imagine me in a dress?" You joked, but Dorcas caught the curious and somewhat longing look in your eyes at the mention of getting ready for the Yule ball.
"I think you would look great actually. And besides, you can treat yourself too sometime you know. You're not obligated to stick with the marauders all the time." The girls in the dorm once again all agreed and you smiled at their kindness.
"Since when are you interested in things like the Yule ball?"
You snapped your head up at James to see his questioning eyes and then quickly averted your own in a flustered manner as if one of your greatest secrets had just been uncovered. "I just think it seems nice, that's all, I'm not even going or anything", you defended. You felt slightly embarrassed by James' face which wore a weirded out expression.
"Well you're not really the type to go to such an event anyway right?", James remarked. You did your best to hide your frown at his immediate agreement. Was it that bad that you'd hoped he would say something along the lines of 'what are you talking about, go enjoy yourself at the party' or something like that?
"Besides I can't imagine you in a dress, all made up, it'd just look so ridiculous." James continued. Remus, ever the sweet and attentive boy glanced at you and noticed your slightly sacked shoulders in disappointment at his words.
"I mean you're just not that type of person, you know? Like completely opposite of Lily."
And with that your face felt like it burned from embarrassment. As if you didn't already know. That didn't mean you didn't want to be more like her sometimes.
Peter's eyes flicked with concern from James to you and back.
You felt hurt and forced yourself to stop tears welling up at his words, mustering up a grin, ready to agree with him but were interrupted by Sirius who had now also caught your change in mood.
"Prongs, you really have no tact at all, how are you expecting to even win Evans over with that?" He said in a playful manner as to not offend their whipped friend, but not fully succeeding.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" James looked slightly offended and Remus jumped in the conversation.
"That's just not a nice thing to say. It's different if you call me an ugly toad, but not Y/N! If she wants to go to the Yule Ball all dolled up, she definitely should." He shot you a supportive smile which you returned.
Peter nodded in agreement. "I don't think you'd look ridiculous at all," he told you sincerely. You subtly scooted a little closer to him and Remus.
"But it's Y/N, it'd just look weird, cause she's just not a proper girl like that, no offense." James shot back and gave you a smile at the last two words.
You saw Remus opening his mouth to retort but quickly intervened. "He's right." You told them. You just wanted this conversation to be over with already. It was awkward and painful for you as it was.
James didn't seem to get the memo, however, and kept on going, drilling your confidence further into the ground.
"See, she agrees." He turned to you. "It's not like you're ugly or anything but it'd be ridiculous. Like I said, you're not the type to be all beautiful and dressed up, hair done and all. I mean you're cool, but not pretty like that." He was clearly not done yet and started talking about Lily and her beauty at which point you abruptly got up and left.
"What's gotten into her?" James remarked with a frown.
Sirius and Remus didn't even bother to answer and just stared at him in disbelief.
The girls comforted you as you cried. Marlene barged in with ice cream, stolen from the kitchen in one hand and 5 spoons in the other. "What a jerk." She commented and thrust a spoon in your hand before plopping down in front of you with the rest of your friends.
Lily sighed frustratedly. "See this is why I don't like him at all. He's so rude and arrogant, and he-"
"- is right." You answered dejectedly. "I'm your friend, but not the type to join you guys and belong to your circle."
"Well that's only because you hang around the boys all the time," Alice argued. She nudged you. "But you know what, now that James is being a git, you can hang out with us!"
Dorcas gasped dramatically. "We could do a girls night! Treat ourselves a little", she jumped up. "I'll get the face masks and nail polish!"
Lily let go of you too and told you to sit up. "Come on, let me do your hair," she smiled.
With Marlene feeding you ice cream, your nails being polished by Alice, hair done by Lily and Dorcas reading the latest romance novel out loud while you were all wearing a facemask, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.
"I love you guys."
"Don't talk with your mouth full."
You laughed and pushed Marlene teasingly off the bed.
"Hey, watch it! I just finished your right hand." Alice complained.
James was a moron. He was kind hearted (to most), popular, captain of the Quidditch team, good looking but a moron nonetheless. So he was absolutely clueless to find you missing from the common room yesterday evening and even more clueless when you were missing from your usual spot next to him at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, because he could not for the life of him think of a reason why you would sit with Alice and Frank instead.
He frowned and felt uneasy at the fact that you hadn't even looked at him, let alone come for a hug with your smile and said 'good morning' like usual. He shook the thoughts away. You were obviously allowed to have your own friends as well and not obligated to spend all your time with him.
The door of the great hall behind him opened and Lily Evans walked in, which was why instead of walking up to you to say something, he habitually turned to Lily instead.
"You look beautiful this morning as usual. I could put in the effort to match you when we go out together?" He shot her a wink and a coy smile but faltered slightly when his attempts at flirting got even less of a reaction out of her than usual.
James turned to Sirius with a questioning look, as if to ask 'you noticed that too right?' but Sirius simply shrugged. When James looked back at Frank and Alice, you were gone, having left the moment you felt his stare.
James started to ponder. 'Were you avoiding him? Surely you wouldn't, right? You two were friends after all, childhood friends. Childhood best friends even, for Merlin's sake! If you were upset with him, you'd definitely let him know.'
A week passed with you, sitting on the opposite sides of the classroom, seemingly having picked partners long before class because how else would you team up with random students before James could even blink?
He had now fully accepted that you were avoiding him. And with that, he meant 'accepting the possibility of that occurrence'. He was by no means going to accept your strange new behavior without doing anything.
The last drop though, was when he heard the news from Peter that you'd already left for Hogsmeade with the girls.
He frowned. 'You were kind', he reasoned. If you were upset with him, then he'd have to apologize. Quickly. Because it's been far too long without his best friend and he realized he missed you. Especially seeing you hang out with others.
"What did I do?" He finally asked his remaining friends.
"Really Prongs?" Remus couldn't help but ask. His friend just gave him a look that said 'well go on then, what is it'.
"How about you think about what you said last week, you know, those rude comments about the Yule ball."
"Yeah, but I already apologized yesterday and told her that I didn't mean to offend her!" James flailed his arms around when he exclaimed it.
"But she's still only hanging out with anyone but me," he whined. "Peter studied with her, Pads got a 'good morning' this morning and you're still talking to eachother.
Remus gave him an unimpressed look at his whining but James was not done complaining yet.
"She keeps spending all her time with the girls while she doesn't even seem to be fully enjoying herself"
This was true. You dearly missed James, so despite your newfound hobbies, a look of sadness sometimes fell over your face, which hadn't escaped James' attention.
"And I just don't understand why she would-" He started but never finished, something dawning on him. "Oh of course! Merlin, I'm so stupid!" He shouted out in epiphany.
"Your words not mine," Sirius quickly took the opportunity.
"Oh bugger off Pads", James laughed and pushed Sirius' arm. And with that, he took off to find you.
Sirius and Remus watched him leave and sighed at the same time. "Do you really think he got it?"
"I bloody hope so, Moony."
"But it's James."
"Yeah, but I mean it's not my fight but even I realize that she's sad that James made fun of the idea of her being more girly when she secretly wants to be. Now she's trying out what she likes, without having to stay within the role of 'one of the guys'. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. I guess a genuine apology and show of support is the solution."
"But it's James."
"Yep, you're right."
Though he hadn't been able to find you, he'd waited patiently for your return in the common room. Staring at the ceiling from his laid back position on the couch.
"Oh there you are, Y/N," He rushed to sit up to face you when you entered the room. If you were surprised by his presence, you didn't show it.
"We need to talk, I wanted to apologize." He breathed out, relieved at himself for having figured it out. "Also, I've missed you so much."
You felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You didn't want to be upset with him and felt incredibly relieved to hear him say that.
"I'm sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean for you to get offended or anything," James began.
"Yeah, you already said that." You frowned. "And I remember I told you that that was not a proper apology."
"I know, I know. It was shitty of me so I wanted to apologize. Properly you know? I'm really really sorry. I was a terrible friend and shouldn't have said the things I said. Please forgive me?" He proceeded to give you Bambi eyes in an attempt to convince you. It unsurprisingly worked.
You softly smiled up at him. "Okay". You barely got the word out before he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
"Great," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence that you two had been hugging in.
"Now you don't have to avoid me anymore, and you can stop sitting with the girls to prove your point, and join us again instead." He triumphantly continued.
What now?
You blanked. "I'm sorry?" You managed to ask.
"I get that I hurt you by saying your weren't a proper girl, but you don't have to pretend to prove your point by trying to be one." James stated, proud of himself that he figured it out.
"Because I can see that you don't like it, like your face gets all gloomy which is understandable because it isn't really your circle of people."
You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face.
"Fuck you James." You said, your voice coming out softer than you'd hoped. Tears were welling up again, but you couldn't help yourself.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I do want that to be my circle of people? That I don't just want to be one of the guys all the time? Is it that crazy to think that I'm still a girl with feelings? That I want to feel pretty too? That I don't like being told by my supposed best friend that I'm basically ugly? That I hate to be compared to other girls like that?"
You were ranting and James had taken a step back, surprised by your outburst.
"No, that's not what I-", James tried to salvage the situation but you weren't having it.
"You've told me that stuff for as long as I can remember and I never told you otherwise because I was scared that you'd no longer want to hang out with me for not being a 'chill friend'. But you know what, I no longer want you to."
At this point, you angrily wiped your eyes to get rid of tears that were threatening to spill. "So fuck you". With that, you brushed past him, escaping upstairs to your room.
James Fleamont Potter felt absolutely miserable.
If anyone told James that you'd ever be more on his mind than Lily, he would call them ridiculous. But here he was, another week had passed and he was staring at your back as you were leaving with your friends for Hogsmeade again.
You weren't wearing your school uniform and robes anymore and James was surprised to see you wearing one of what he knew to be Lily's dresses.
'It suited you more than it suited Lily.' The unwarranted thought flashed through his mind and he shook his head with a scoff to himself. What was going on?
James also noticed that your hair was brushed and shining with a butterfly clip holding your hair in a bun. He wondered when you decided to change your hairstyle because he found that it framed your face perfectly.
'Not ridiculous at all,' he understood.
You looked absolutely perfect.
You turned your face a little and James could feel his head reeling. Have you always been this glowing? Was he just simply missing you? He didn't even realize that he hadn't spared Lily a glance- until Sirius mentioned her while they were having a drink - and a strange feeling washed over him at the thought.
You were running from Filch.
'Fuck I shouldn't have studied after hours, curfew was probably hours ago," you cursed to yourself and took a sharp right turn. You were trying to reach the secret passage right behind the big statue on the fourth floor when you saw the hallway light up because of Filches torch.
Forcing your legs to move faster, you were suddenly grabbed by the wrist. A hand was clasped over your mouth and you felt a heavy cloth fall over you.
You recognised the person pressed to your back immediately and tried not to melt in his embrace as Filch walked straight past the two of you, covered in the invisibility cloak.
You could feel his breath against your temple. His hand had dropped from your mouth, instead draping across your stomach now to rest on your side. The other held out in front of you to create space under the cloak. You shifted a little and finally turned your head and lifted it to look at him and thank him but you were unable to say anything for a moment.
You simply admired him.
The proximity of the two of you in that intimate embrace had something fluttering in your stomach and you harshly jerked away in denial when your feelings hit you.
Oh no.
Now, all suddenly? What changed? Does it really take one random moment to flip your world upside down?
You rushed to push the invisibility cloak out of your way and then left without sparing James another glance.
James couldn't force his legs to move to run after you, still reeling from about the exact same epiphany that you'd just run away from. Your gaze, his fast beating heart and the urge he had felt to lean down for a kiss had confirmed his conflicted feelings of the past few days since he'd seen you leave for Hogsmeade.
The following morning, you'd had the chance to properly process the happenings of last night.
Your conclusion was that you felt guilty that you hadn't even expressed your gratitude. It was rude, you figured. Even if you were overwhelmed by the sudden wave of realization that came crashing down on you, it was rude.
So you pushed your confused feelings aside and marched up to him when you found him in the great hall.
"Thanks, I owe you." You awkwardly said, stopping at his spot at the Gryffindor table. All while absolutely not having forgotten about the fact that the last time you had said something to him, you'd flipped him off and told him to go fuck himself.
James was absolutely beaming. "Yeah you do, but no worries, I'll cash it in right away." This was his chance. He would make up for his behavior and act on his feelings right now.
"How about a date?"
There was a long silence. Your heart plummeted to the ground. Right. James. Lily. Lily and James.
"What am I a magician?" You finally managed to sarcastically retort. "I'm a convincing person but not a miracle worker." You pulled your hand through your hair as you looked around the great hall to see if you could spot Lily.
"Alright, I'll see what I can do." You forced a smile.
James, who had been mostly confused at your words, disregarded it completely in delight at your acceptance to go out with him, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant. Not that it would matter because he was going to prove what an amazing boyfriend he could be. If you'd accept him, of course.
He was grinning from ear to ear, which you mistook as excitement at the prospect of a potential date with Lily. So when you abruptly turned on your heels and marched over to Lily, James watched you confusedly.
And when he heard you try to talk Lily into going out with him, he wanted to crawl in a ditch and die. He stood there, frozen and recounting how you could've interpreted that wrongly.
You returned to him after a while with an apologetic smile. "Yeah sorry Prongs, she-"
"You", he blurted out.
You raised your eyebrows. "Me?" You repeated back.
"The date, I meant you. A-and me of course. Us, like you and me on a date. Together. I thought maybe Hogsmeade?" He managed to force the words out nervously.
There was a long silence and James' shoulders slumped a little. Even more when you finally answered.
"Uh, no?" You said in a questioning manner. James officially wanted to die now.
"You're sweet James, and I don't think you do it on purpose but you're not interested in me like that." You began, trying to convince not only James, but yourself as well.
James opened his mouth to argue but you quickly interrupted him before he could properly do so.
"James, you really don't. And you asking me out on a date when you've quite literally been drooling over Lily just last week as you have been doing for the past 5 years, that's not very nice to me." You frowned.
"Oh." He whispered. He was once again at a lack of words for a moment. Terrible new habit, he thought. This was not how he thought it would go.
"I'd still gladly go with you to Hogsmeade though?" You offered. "Just you know, not as an easy second choice date while you are obviously head over heels with her."
'I'm not', he wanted to tell you, but it was obvious that you wouldn't believe him. "Yeah okay," he weakly smiled. "Just the two of us though."
You nodded and stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, returning the hug.
With his face pressed in your hair, eyes closed, he decided that this situation wasn't too bad. He's fought for Lily's affection for years. He'd fight harder for yours.
Part two
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cherryredcheol · 4 months
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"angel"
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tldr: all the way mingyu uses the petname he calls you.
a/n: this is my first fic ever, please be kind.
coos: when he’s trying to get what he wants.
“angel” he looks at you from across the store. you turn your head and wish you hadn’t. As soon as you catch those eyes, you know its over for you. You don’t even know what he wants and you’re already prepared to do anything to give it to him. 
“wear these matching outfits with me?” he asks with the biggest grin on his face. you laugh, immediately nodding along to his idea, knowing how happy it would make him. 
“i can take cute pictures of us and set it as my wallpaper on my phone,” he rambles on, browsing the rack for your size in the unisex shirt he just had to have with you, “...been needing a new one.” 
groans: when you get up to leave. 
“annnnngeeeel” you hear from deep within the sheets. you thought he was asleep, that's why you pecked him so lightly on the cheek before pulling the covers off yourself. you did not expect his gruff voice to hit you so early in the morning. you actually were not expecting to hear it at all today since you had to be at work early. 
“stay a few more minutes. take a shorter shower, do less skincare, just stay in bed,” he begged. how could you say no to him? so you concede. tucking yourself back into the bed. he takes this moment to pull you in tight. 
“mmmm,” he hums. you feel the vibration in your back, where his warm chest was practically enmeshed in you. “sorry about your skin care in advance”
yells: when he needs your attention right this second. 
“angel!” he shouts when he looks up and you weren’t watching him like you promised you would be. The practice room was echoey so it was louder than he intended but it got your attention. You turned away from Seungcheol, brow raised, holding a finger up politely to pause the conversation you were engaged in. 
“you missed my move!” he pouted, stomping his feet very dramatically as he huffed across the room to you. you looked at him ready to apologize and ask him to show you again in a second when his hand wrapped around your wrist. 
“come on,” he said with a little determined frown, brows creasing. he leads you directly to the mirrored wall up front. “sit right here and watch me kill this. you’ll be so proud i finally got this down.” 
moans: when you’re behind him.
“angel” his eyes flutter shut as he feels your soft lips press behind his ear. your arms were wrapped around his waist just so and he could smell your perfume, making his head spin. 
“should we go home?” he felt you nod against his back and he smiled. he knew what this meant when you were needy like this. he knew his night was far from over and he was happy to leave this stuffy party anyway. his shiny new shoes pinching his toes in a way that was starting to become uncomfortable. 
“hey guys?” he said catching wonwoo and jun’s attention. “i think we’re going to head out” he turned slightly, showing the guys how you clung to his back, wrinkling the front of your emerald dress. eyes closed contently with a little smile on your face. “see you later.”
sings: when he gets home. 
“angeeeellllll” his voice carries across the apartment as he flings the door open, expecting you to be right there with a little smile on your face, waiting for him. what he saw instead was nothing. a dark apartment. upon further inspection, he saw a faint light coming from the living room. 
“I can’t believe it,” he muttered to himself, turning on the lamp next to the couch. he was secretly hoping to wake you up so he could spend time with you. it had been a long week away from you in Japan and he missed you. the night was still young, it was practically still dinner time. 
“well, well, well…” he said, hands on hips when you opened your eyes. he smiled when his plan worked. “wake up you lazy bones. it’s time to hang out with me” but when you turned on your puppy dog eyes and reached up for him, who was he to refuse a cuddle on the couch? he guessed you could hang out in the morning. 
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yestrday · 2 months
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— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four
⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno
introducing ! at the altar decorated by the blooming lotus flowers, your wrist is bound to your husband with a red string and a promise of togetherness. while the people dance and sing in celebration of the newlywed, his eyes are on you and you only— possessive through and through, even in parabandhana.
[ surpriseeeeeeee yea you did not expect this did you yeah neither did I. i just sat on my computer and decided to be productive. also did not include baizhu and mika for now cuz I got lazy. ]
warning ! yandere behavior, drúgging, manipulation, mentions of locking you away and múrder
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— ADMONISHING INSTRUCTION. alhaitham | الهيثم
[ “sure, sure, i’ll clean up after you go. hm? i’m not being lazy at all, just enjoying my peace and quiet.”] 
⇢ my boy is living the dream life. no nosy seniors, demanding bosses, and curious co-workers. just him and his hardworking partner and the freedom to do his research at his own time. when you’re around, he tends to slack off (though he denies it) but he does his part of the chores anyway, so you don’t really have any complaints. he’d already been living the cushy life before, but now this lifestyle is more than comfortable.
⇢ he helps you out with your work when he sees you struggling, and he lets you use him as a soundboard to work out solutions. sometimes even lets you complain. keyword: sometimes. most of the time he’ll distract you with a movie or just bring you to the bed so the two of you can read a book together. unfortunately, his tolerance towards whining is very low (reminds him too much of a certain blonde), but he still loves you enough that he’s willing to let your stress out through other means.
⇢ marriage seems to have made him a bit of a romantic, though he’ll tell you that he’s stayed the same as he was when he was still your boyfriend. whenever you’re squinting at your computer screen in frustration, you’ll be caught offguard when he presses a tender kiss to your temple and sets down a mug of coffee next to you. or while you’re talking about something or another as you eat, he’ll clasp your hands in his and press a chaste kiss to each knuckle. these gestures has you blushing and stammering all the time, reverting you back to the naive student you were when you met him. this makes him a bit smug, so you often hit him in embarrassment.
⇢ he would never look down at you. marrying you means he has acknowledged you his equal, and to be fair he doesn’t really have a habit of looking down on others. however, when he sees some pesky flies fly a bit too close, he often gets too full of himself. someone trying to smooth talk you at the cafe? haitham’s not one for pda, but he’ll wrap a sturdy bicep around your waist and watch as the poor thing trembles from his gaze. 
⇢ haitham doesn’t always tell you this, but he admires you for a lot of things. but sometimes you get a bit too… irrational, and he knows that he has to be the one to bring you down sometimes. you’re not a kid, so you should know better. besides, haitham’s always been the more rational between the two of you. sometimes bordering on…heartless, but you never tell him that. you don’t have the heart to.
⇢ he’s often the decision-maker, most of the time not even asking you what you want. he says it’s not about want, he has to take the rational decision for the both of you. you’ve always been a little… dull. it’s an endearing trait, but it’s something that has to go away as you both age. he sees the hurt flash in your eyes when he tells you this, and he thinks he can make up for it with a gentle kiss between your pretty eyes. he loves you like his equal, really, but sometimes (most of the time) you need a good talking down to.
“so you’ll continue to let your brother exploit you, despite everything he’s done to you in the past?” haitham shuts his book and stares at you with a seemingly bored gaze. “you know you don’t need to give them that solicitation, right? he’s not worth it.”
“it– it’s not about him, haitham, believe me!” you plead with him. “i’m, i’m doing this for his wife, okay? she doesn’t deserve to deliver a baby in his dingy apartment with no professionals around. it’s not fair! just because my brother was a díck doesn’t mean she deserves the cold shoulder too! have some compassion for once!” he rolls his eyes and gets up, towering above some good inches. his eyes look down at you, but his hand rests heavy on your shoulder as if trying to calm you down. “it’s not about compassion, dear. it’s about being rational. once your brother sees you softening, he’ll start asking for more and more and more and well, we know what kind of person you are.” you open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. “you’re too soft, [y. name]. chasing around the affection of others… you don’t have to do that anymore.”
[ “this is for the both of us. i’m sure you can’t tell now, but sooner or later, you’ll thank me.” ]
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— EMPYREAN REFLECTION. kaveh | کاوه
[ “you’re the — hic!— the best thing’s that ever happened to me! of– of course i’m crying! i’m not heartless!” ] 
⇢ for kaveh, your marriage was both a blessing and a cause of distress to him. a blessing, of course, because what sane man would not want to get married to you! his darling, light of his life, the one who tolerates his flaws more than any other person on teyvat! but at the same time, he can’t just let you shoulder his burdens! he can’t give you the luxury you deserve to have, you don’t deserve to be saddled with his debt, it’s– it’s just not fair!
⇢ with kaveh’s sense of aesthetics and talent for architecture, you two will have the prettiest home around! it is a must for this architect to gift you with the prettiest home you’ve ever laid eyes on. sure, he can’t give you the grandiose mansion that you deserve even with both of your savings joined, but a master architect will make the most of what he has. this is the place where he’ll make memories with you, where you’ll grow a family and your chi… children (?!??!!!!) will live. it has to be as beautiful as you.
⇢ complains like you’d never believe. he’s always been chatty, but he gets even chattier after a disagreement with a client or a run-in with a certain someone or when he hears whispers of your horrendous workplace. to anyone else, his overdramatic flair might be a bit too much to handle, but you can’t help but listen with amusement as your husband drones on and on and on and embellishing his rants with over-the-top remarks. nevertheless, in the case that you do get weary, just press a kiss on his lips— it will surely leave him an incoherent mess in no time.
⇢ a bit too eager for your praise. it’s not like people don’t praise him all the time, but it’s only your approval that he cares for. when he makes a meal that he’s proud of, he’s squirming nervously in the seat across you as he watches you take bite after bite. when he finished his part of the chores, he tends to be a bit clingy with you as he tries to fish for compliments. it’s your choice to cave in so easily or play around with him, but when you do utter a compliment, know that you’ll be left with a gooey pile of mush cuddling into you.
⇢ on the other hand, kaveh absolutely cannot handle fights with you. fighting is a normal thing between couples, but he gets so absolutely wrecked it’s unreal. your look of disappointment, the glare you gave him, the fed-up sigh when you push him away and say that you need some time away from him… they all drive him insane. he curses himself, wondering why’d he have to go and open his stupid mouth and fuck everything up. you’re not wrong, never wrong, and it should be him to take the blame. the longer the fight, the more his wellness and self-confidence cracks. it’s a common sight to see him groveling on the ground, for your forgiveness, begging for you to notice him again. the sight is so pathetic that you can’t bear to look away.
⇢ the most insecure husband to ever exist and grows even worse with every fight you two might have had in the past. anyone who approaches you has him tensing up and tightening his grip on you, but a raised brow from you has him reluctantly loosening his grip and shamefully looking away. he’s plagued with thoughts of you leaving (because why would you stay with a wreck like him?) and overthinks every friendly gesture you give towards anyone who isn’t him (is that how you smile with someone who isn’t a complete fool?). he’s a pushover and craves your love and attention the most. if you love being an asshole and having someone completely around your finger, there’s no perfect husband to get more than kaveh.
“kaveh…” you start hesitantly, brows furrowed as you put a hand on his shoulder. “kaveh… there’s really no need for you to do all this.” but despite your gentle words, it only makes kaveh flinch and bury his weeping face even more into your chest. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he keeps whispering with a voice ragged from the amount of apologies he’s repeated. “i won’t do it again. whatever i’ve done please just forgive me. i can’t, i can’t stand it!” he looks up at you and that pretty face of his is ruined with tears. “please come back to me. you don’t have to sleep at that inn anymore. i can’t handle you not being with me anymore.” your grip on his shoulder tightens, and your expression seems to twist between a grimace and guilt. the only reason you stayed at an inn was because you were a coward, and you couldn’t handle watching kaveh break down as he beats himself up for a mistake that you caused. this fight was your fault to begin with, but the only one ruined was the innocent one. “i… i forgive you, dear,” you hushedly whisper, with the audacity of a man who did nothing but take advantage. “i forgive you. no matter what you’ve done.” and when he brightens up and smiles so prettily, your heart squeezes in your chest as he pulls you into a kiss sweeter than you deserve.
[ “wh… what are you apologizing for…? there’s no need to look at me like that…! you can blame me all you like!” ]
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— VERDANT STRIDER. tighnari | الطغنري
[ “once again, i told you not to eat your boss’ baking! no, i don’t care if they looked nice! they. are. poisonous!” ]
⇢ he’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to tolerate idiots who think eating poisonous mushrooms recklessly count as experiments or co-workers who tell him stupid jokes all the time. it’s a less stressful environment now… at least, that’s what he thinks. so why do you keep coming home barely alive?! you’ll find tighnari fussing over you and nagging at your office’s poor working environment.
⇢you’ll have the prettiest garden in the whole neighborhood, if not the whole world! the research data he can acquire from the plants in his backyard is limited, so it’s mostly a hobby of his. of course, he doesn’t just grow whatever there! there’s tons of medicinal herbs growing there and there’s a shed you both built where he can experiment wherever he likes. whenn you’re off work, you like to idle the time away in the garden while tighnari is hard at work on another of his concoctions. simply admiring his focused face is enough to put the stress of work behind you, and you think it’d be prettier if you tucked a flower behind his ear. but you never learn, do you? he launches off to another lecture about why you shouldn’t pluck flowers thoughtlessly while you daydream about his pretty face.
⇢ please please please don’t bring him to any work parties, lest you want to see the entire world burn. he still has that dry sarcasm that you oh so love, but he’s ruthless when it comes to your boss and your more unpleasant co-workers. if any of them try to act chummy with you, he immediately raises a brow and gives them the side-eye. he combats whatever fake-ass comment they have with a dry retort, leaving you panicking and trying him to stop it. but no one stops tighnari in verbal combat, and before long he’s revealed your boss’ and co-workers' vulnerabilities and have them deflating like a balloon.
⇢ tighnari always knows how to make the perfect brew, his teas always the perfect blend of both taste and remedy. it’s too bad though, that you always fall asleep before you can manage to finish a single pot. whenever you awake from a tea-induced slumber, your body feels strangely heavy but you can’t complain about the sleep. your husband is always the first thing you see from these naps, his fluffy tail wrapped around your legs and his big eyes staring intently at your face.
⇢ whenever he mixes in the drugs in your food or tea, tighnari’s tail swishes back and forth as he begins thinking of your cute expressions while you’re half-sober. sometimes he doesn’t put the usual dose and instead just halves it, just to see you flailing to get a grip on your senses and reaching out to your oh-so-innocent husband for help. he often chastises himself for this… dirty behavior, but the devil in his mind gleefully reminds him that this counts as research. the test subject just happened to be his trusting partner for life.
⇢ tighnari isn’t above imprisonment. it’s less for the thought of protecting you and more for his personal benefit. he likes to tell himself this is strictly research, but he can’t deny the awestruck look on his face as he greedily eats up every expression of your drugged face. when you grasp onto his clothes and lean on him for support… it makes him shudder with delight. you’re so cute when your system is laced with drugs, and even cuter when you look at him like he’s your entire world. he wants you to rely on him… and in turn, he wants to abuse that over reliance.
“you look better like this,” he murmurs as he brushes your freshly bathed hair. your figure is slumped in your chair like a doll, which isn’t far from the truth from how he handles you like one. he holds you gently, like porcelain, but you don’t react. you are too knocked out from the dose he had slipped into your tea awhile ago. he leans into your face, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. “look at this… clear neglect of your health. i keep telling you to sleep, but you never listen to me, do you?” he sighs before focusing his attention back to your hair. “you’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. i barely know what to do with you.” he spends the next few moments in silence, rubbing cream into and ointments into your face. you smell slightly of lemongrass now, thanks to the bath he’s given you. tomorrow when you wake up, you will marvel at the softness of your skin and the clearness of your mind, before you throw yourself into another week of overwork. like always. tighnari regrets giving you the sleeping drug now. maybe he should’ve added a dose of the aphrodisiac drug he’s just finished. with the way his feline eyes zero into your blissful face and the eager swaying of his tail, he can just barely hold himself back now.
[ “aaah, i’ve run out of your meds again. oh, don’t you worry, i’ll make you some more. it’s nice how your body is so… receptive to my medicine ♡” ]
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— JUDICATOR OF SECRETS. cyno | κύων 
[ “... we’re married… …what? i honestly didn’t think i’d come this far.” ]
⇢while there’s no other man you could imagine to spend the rest of your life with, you’re inwardly groaning about the amount of dad jokes you have to put up with later on in life. sure, you love cyno’s goofy lil personality, but you think you can only take too many stupid jokes before you go crazy. you voice this concern to cyno, who just gives you a reassuring hand on your shoulder and says he can handle you just fine if you do. you’re not quite sure what this implies.
⇢ quite sulky, but he refuses to own up to the fact. sometimes you get a little distracted with one of the neighborhood children, start chatting up one of the kind neighbors, or meet one of your co-workers. you tend to get a little bit distracted by them, and while cyno believes that he’s not overly bothered by this, he admits that he is a little bit miffed about you not paying attention to them. he also gets pouty when work starts taking up of your time and you start to neglect him, so expect him to just shut the laptop close and demand you to eat dinner with him without rushing to get your job done. 
⇢ he used to scare the neighborhood kids away with just one look and you always had to comfort him and pat him on the back in sympathetic understanding. “maybe you’ll get them next time,” you had joked, handing him an ice cream as he sulked on the park’s bench. “one of your jokes should do the trick.” you really shouldn’t have suggested that, because after another trip to the park he stared those kids down with his same stoic expression and cracked one of the corniest jokes known to man. every kid looked at him like he was stupid. now no one takes him seriously. well, at least they like playing with him now???
⇢ overprotective, like over overprotective. he knows you can handle going outside the house on your own, and hell, he might have no qualms with your workplace. but the more you complain, the more paranoid he gets until he’s staking out the site for himself. touchy co-workers? cruel bosses? he could easily have their corpses fed to the dogs. he is a protector of justice, after all, and what is justice but not killing those who lay a hand on their partner?
⇢ it’s not very easy to just push him over the edge, but he can and has the will to lock you away. it’s the modern world, no one’s going to have it out for a salary worker slaving day in and out for a corporation, but still. he’s made plenty of enemies when he was still in the force and there’s a paranoia eating at him whenever you go out of the front door. when he does lock you away, he’s as gentle as he can be, even with the stench of blood all over him. this is all for your sake after all, and he couldn’t bear to see you hurt when he had the power of protecting you.
“cy,” you huff in exasperation, looking up from your laptop as he glares down at you from behind it. “what in the world are you talking about? they’re my co-worker, my superior. you can’t just tell me to stop talking to them. i need their help!” “what help could you possibly need from them when you have me?” he huffs back, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you. they’re dangerous. i… i just know it, okay?” “what could a retired general possibly know about handling excel sheets?” when his face falters, you sigh and shut the laptop closed. “look, i know you just want to protect me and i appreciate that, really. but come on, cy, don’t be unreasonable.” the pressed line of his lips tells you that he has something against being called that, but you press on. “the company does background checks on their employees. it’s safe, i promise.” you press a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. “sit here and calm yourself down, okay? i’ll handle dinner tonight.” he watches your back as you disappear into the kitchen, humming a bright tune that offsets the stormy look in his eyes. he could tell you all about his time in the workforce— the violations he’s made, the blood on his hands, and the enemies he’s made— but he won’t. not if it means breaking this beautiful life he’s created with you. but that’s okay, that’s fine. he’s been trained to adapt to the situation and to work with the shadows.
[ “even if you don’t have a care in the world… i’ll be right behind you. wherever. whenever.” ]
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teyums · 1 year
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Neteyam Headcanons ✽
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Pet names. You’ve almost forgotten your own name at this point with how much he uses them. Calling you “mama” is definitely his favorite. You’ll be walking around your shared hammock, tidying up some things that were laying around when he’ll suddenly grab hold of your hips and pull you up and into him, your back against his chest as he whispers in your ear. “You’re so pretty, mama.”
He absolutely refuses to fall asleep first. There had been a night where he fell asleep almost instantly after returning from a hunt, not being able to cuddle with you before bed. You didn’t have the heart to wake him, leaving you restless and up until the sun rose the next morning. Safe to say when he opened his eyes to see yours with bags forming under them, he was not happy. Now every single night without fail, he’ll crawl into bed next to you and scoop you into his arms. You insist that he can go to sleep if he’s tired, knowing it’ll fall on deaf ears because he always refuses. He’ll rub slow circles into your back, brushing his fingertips up and down your spine every now and then. You fall asleep in minutes, he knows just how to relax you. Once his ears pick up on your slowed breathing, he’ll drape a light sheet over your bodies and join you.
The mighty warrior loves to cuddle, and he secretly enjoys being the little spoon from time to time. It hadn’t been intentional on your part, he turned over one night in his sleep and you followed, clinging to him for warmth. Being the oldest meant his duty was to take care of his siblings, yet no one was required to take care of him. Your arms around him, holding him instead of the other way around, made him feel safe. For once, someone was making him feel safe. Fast asleep, you didn’t realize you were in this position or that the two of you remained like this for the rest of the night until he brought it up the next day.
You and Neteyam were lounging in your hammock, an afternoon nap slowly approaching. It was rare that he got a lazy day, but today was Jake and Neytiri’s anniversary meaning the eldest Sully got the day off.
You laid with your ear pressed to his chest, listening to the rhythmic thumping of his heart beat. He was awfully fidgety which was unusual, readjusting himself a few times as if he were having trouble getting comfortable.
You lifted your head and peered up at him curiously. “Are you alright, Neteyam?”
He cleared his throat and nodded, his fingers idly drumming against your thigh. “Yes, yes. I’m fine, why do you ask?”
“No reason,” You shrugged a bit and shook your head, taking note of his slightly nervous demeanor. “Just seems like you can’t get settled, is all.”
He paused, and for a second so did his breathing. “Yes, well- I was wondering if you could…. do that, thing you did last night?” Putting his thoughts into words proved difficult for him.
“Hm? What thing?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed to match your puzzled expression.
“Um,” His cheeks flushed a faint pink, his hand coming up to scratch his head. He seemed… shy. “I had turned over in my sleep, and you held me. Like how I do with you, but the other way around. And I really liked it.” He mumbled.
A smile painted your lips once you realized what he was trying to explain, quickly nodding in agreement as the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel embarrassed for expressing something he wanted. And if you were being honest, you found his bashful behavior more than adorable. “Of course, my love. You make a very cute little spoon, anyway.”
Even though the two of you are already mated, he still likes to bring you courting gifts. When asked why, he simply says that having you as his own does not mean the effort he used to win you over should stop.
“Do you like it?” Neteyam questioned, his voice soft as he presented a beautifully woven, beaded choker in the palm of his hands.
You quietly gasped, bringing your fingers to your lips while you stared down at the gorgeous gift he held. “I love it, Nete.” You dropped your head to the side, bottom lip poking out into a pout as you tried to fathom how you got so lucky with him. “You’re too sweet to me.” A brief kiss was set onto his lips before you pulled away to look at him lovingly.
“You deserve everything and more, my love.” He grinned. “Let me put it on for you.”
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a/n: the way this was in my drafts for so long and i’m just now posting it lol
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I KNOW THERE'S SOMETHING RIGHT IN BETWEEN US!
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I'M MOVING CLOSER BABY, WHY DON'T YOU SEEM TO CARE?
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synopsis// “you’re going on a date?” “well yeah..it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything right?” “yeah..yes ofc not” “yeah” (prompt from @jasminesfury)
➚ pairing// choso x gn!reader ➚ word count// 3.2k
contents// suggestive—friends with benefits but nothing explicit/no actual smut, no curses!au, unknown mutual pining, both of u r just idiots tbh
notes// MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNNN i need to get him pregnant soooo bad. on that note here's a low quality one shot from a low quality man. anyway! besides the prompt this was inspired by better by clairo (shivers)
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Choso plops down next to you with a sigh, bringing the sheets up to cover his chest, and instead of cuddling up next to him like you normally do, you sit up and look around the room for your clothes. Once spotted, you snatch the sheets away from Choso and cover yourself with them, leaving him exposed instead.
“Y/n cmon,” he whines as the cold air leaves goosebumps across his bare body.
You hum, ignoring him as you slip your clothes back on, which quickly catches his attention.
“What are you doing?” He asks as he sits up and stares at you with half-lidded eyes; you’d almost consider them fuck-me eyes if you hadn’t already just done that.
"I'm getting dressed, Choso. What does it look like?"
“You’re not staying?”
"No, sorry, I know I usually spend the night after we..." You clear your throat awkwardly as you put on the last of your clothes. “...After we check in the benefits to our friendship, but I have plans tomorrow.”
A lazy smirk plays on his face. “You know you can just say after we fuck, right?”
"I'd rather not—I don't have a dirty mouth like you.”
“…are you sure about that cause you were just-“
“Do not finish that sentence if you ever want to see me naked again, Choso.”
“Got it,” he says, nodding curtly. “So what plans do you have tomorrow that are oh so important to be taking you from me?”
“Oh.” You look away, scratching your cheek awkwardly. "Um, I'm going on a date.”
Whatever small smirk Choso had been previously sporting falls—falls isn't even the correct word. It vanishes in thin air, one second there and gone the next, as quick and fleeting as the clap of a butterfly’s wings. “…you're going on a date?”
"Yeah, I mean..." Your head dips down, your hands now awkwardly fumbling with themselves as you look up at him through your lashes and mutter, "It's not like we’re exclusive or anything, right?”
"Yeah," he nods hesitantly, like he's not even really sure he should be nodding at all. "Yeah, of course not.”
“Yeah… Well…” You quickly clear his throat and approach him, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "Bye, Choso, I'm gonna get going! talk to you later?”
“Talk to you later, Y/n,” is all he says before you’re rushing out of his house.
The slam of his front door has him gasping, belatedly realizing he had started holding his breath sometime earlier to begin with. Choso feels like he might just vomit now that he's all too aware of everything that just happened and everything that’s currently happening within him. He practically jumps out of bed, stumbling a bit as he pulls on his boxers on his path toward the bathroom.
He comes to a halt in front of his sink, immediately turning it on and splashing his face with water, as if that would actually do something to stop the way his heart is beating at light speed. Choso stands there, borderline waterboarding himself, for god knows how long, and when it doesn’t feel like his legs are about to give out from underneath him like he’s a baby deer standing for the first time, he turns off the faucet and groans.
He should’ve stopped you.
He should’ve told you that he did, in fact, actually want to be exclusive. And if he couldn’t have done that, then at the very least he should’ve tried to get you in bed again—he should’ve done literally anything just to keep you in his grasp and not in the paws of whatever filthy person you’re off to have a date with tomorrow.
but he knows he was playing a losing game all along anyway. It was only a matter of time before you got tired of this and called it off—yet Choso can admit he wished he had just a little bit more time with you before you went off and found something you didn’t know he was more than willing to give you. Choso has loved you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, and never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d have you in any way—but one day, to his amazement, you suggested this arrangement, and Choso was not about to say no.
He was not about to deny himself the only way he might ever be able to have you.
And now it’s seeming like he’ll never be able to have you in anyway ever again, and there’s nothing he can do about it—nothing he can do to make you feel the same way. But at least this was a nice way to end things, with one last hoorah. Choso can at least be happy at the fact that you gave him one last chance to adore you.
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
Your elbow is on the table with your cheek resting against your fist as you stare at the person in front of you who's talking about something you can't hear. not because it’s loud. No, your date made certain that it wouldn't be by bringing you to a secluded booth in the corner of a romantically lit restaurant, so that's not the problem.
The problem is you.
You didn’t even want to come on this date in the first place; you didn’t think you were actually going to have to end up showing up. What you thought would happen was last night when you told Choso he’d get jealous or do something, anything, to show you that he’s just as head over heels for you as you are for him, and then you'd cancel this date.
But no.
All you got was confirmation that you two truly are just friends with benefits—nothing more, nothing less. And really, it shouldn’t hurt this badly. It shouldn’t feel like someone’s just ripped your heart out and served it on a silver platter for you to watch as it bleeds out. yet it does. And even still, you can't help but be here thinking about Choso. You’ll probably always be stuck thinking about him. You've thought about him so much that you're convinced he's the only thing on your mind. A head filled with nothing but Choso; it's been that way since before you two had what you have going on, and you're sure it'll stay that way long after.
“You know you could at least pretend to pay attention, right?"
They roll their eyes when you do nothing but stare at them in stunned silence. "If you don’t want to be here so bad, why did you even come?”
"I-uh-" you swallow harshly. "I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Who are they?”
You stare at them blankly. Is it really that obvious? If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you have "I'm in love with Choso!” written smack dab on your forehead.
“You look miserable, and I'd like to think I'm not at full fault for that.” They tilt their head slightly to the side, unamused. "So, who are they?”
“You’re not,” you say, an apologetic smile being the only thing you have to offer them. “You didn’t do anything, really. I just.” You stand up abruptly and quickly exit the booth. "I should go.”
“Yeah,” they agree. “That’s probably best.”
"I'm really sorry again-"
They interrupt your sentence with an impudent wave of their hand, and you frown. But obviously, since this date was doomed from the moment you arrived, you ignore it, pushing their bitterness (though you can’t fully blame them) out of your mind and walking away. As you rush out of the restaurant, you immediately pull out your phone and call Choso. You’re not sure what you would even say; all you know is that you need to hear his voice. Who knows, maybe hearing his voice after that cluster fuck of a “date” will be the very push off the cliff you need to confess. The phone seems to ring for an eternity.
"Cmon, pick up,” you mumble to no one other than yourself and the ghost of the wind.
The line falls, as does your face. Okay. Choso always answers you. So why not now? You shake your head and call him again; maybe he was just in the bathroom or something. This time, the phone only rings once or twice before dropping, and that's when it hits you: he’s ignoring you on purpose. You stop in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at your phone blankly.
What the fuck?
Choso ignoring you?
That's unheard of; Choso would never dare ignore you, yet he is. You rack your brain, searching every nook and cranny for an answer, trying to recall if maybe you did something wrong. You two were fine last night after you left—at least, you think? You can't totally remember if you’re being honest. You’re brain checked out the minute Choso gave you confirmation that he doesn't feel the same about you. You groan to yourself. You have to fix this. First, you just have to figure out what exactly you need to fix, and if you don't have that information, you have a strong suspicion about who might.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆
The pounding of your fists on the door falls in tune with the pounding of your heart. You're about to start knocking again when you finally hear the faint grumble of someone from beyond it.
“What the fuck do you-“ He comes to a halt when the door swings open enough to reveal you. "Oh, it's just you.”
You roll your eyes. “Great to see you too, Sukuna!”
He looks you up and down, unamused. “What do you want?”
“Are you gonna invite me in?”
Sukuna looks over his shoulder at something—or rather, someone—before looking back at you. “'m busy.”
“Like the kind of busy me and Choso got going on or...”
"Ew, what the fuck?" He reluctantly nods, though his grimace is still evident. "I mean, yeah, but gross.”
"Okay, fine, whatever, I'll make this quick. Have you talked to him?”
“Choso?”
You nod.
“Uh yeah, I talk to his dumbass all the time.”
You sigh. "I mean recently, like last night or today?…”
Sukuna quickly shrugs before leaning against his door frame, tilting his head to the side as he asks, “Why?”
“I’m like…” You look away and mumble disappointedly, “...pretty sure he’s ignoring me.”
“Bro what?” Sukuna looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “Choso ignoring you?” He snickers. “You sound fucking crazy.”
"Dude, I'm serious!” You snap, returning your gaze to him. “Watch, call him.”
Sukuna, unmoving, quirks an eyebrow up at you skeptically.
“Just do it, Sukuna.”
“Fine.” He lazily pushes himself up right and pulls out his phone. He dials Choso, and within seconds, Choso answers. "Yo, uh, I just wanted to see if you were alive." Sukuna shakes his head at his own horrible improv skills. "And I can tell you are, so I'm gonna hang up now. Ok. Bye.” Sukuna pockets his phone and stares at you blankly. "Ok, now what?"
Your jaw is dropped, and Sukuna is tempted to reach out and shut it for you. “He fucking answered you?!”
“Is he not answering you?”
“No! Why do you think I'm here telling you he’s ignoring me?” You quickly pull out your phone and call Choso. “Watch.” 
The two of you watch how the line almost immediately goes dead, and Sukuna holds a fist to his mouth to stifle his laughter (though it doesn't do much). "Bro, what did you do?”
"I didn't do anything!” You trail off unsure, "I mean, I don't think I did anything?”
“When's the last time you saw him?”
“Last night.”
“Ew,” he says, a grimace on his face as he shakes his head. "Okay, uh, what was it like before you left?”
“Fine?” You pause for a moment. "I mean, usually I stay the night, but I had to leave because I had a date today.”
“You what.”
"I had a date today."
Sukuna stares at you with narrowed eyes, hesitant. “Did you tell Choso that?”
“Um... Yeah?”
"Y/n, are you a fucking idiot?” He asks earnestly, like he genuinely wonders if you’re actually this stupid and is slightly concerned for your wellbeing.
You stare at him blankly.
Truly not a thought behind your eyes, he thinks.
“Huh?”
“Oh my god.” He begins to explain slowly, enuanciating each and every syllable as if talking to a child. “You tell Choso you’re going on a date, and then suddenly he’s ignoring you, and you have no idea why?”
“Thanks for the recap, Sukuna." You roll your eyes and cross your arms defensively. "What's your fucking point?”
“My point?” Sukuna shuts his eyes closed and rubs his temples, already feeling a headache coming on. “You know he's in love with you, right?”
"That's not funny, Sukuna,” you say, your jaw clenched tight.
Sukuna’s hands fall to his sides, and he leans back against the door frame, rolling his eyes before glaring at you, his head tilted tauntingly to the side. "No, it's not, especially when you're such a fucking idiot.”
“Stop fucking around, Sukuna.”
Sukuna stands straight up again, only to lean forward, his face inches away from yours as he studies it. "Do you seriously think I'm lying?”
“Obviously you are!” You exclaim as you push him back into place.
"Y/n, that dumbass is head over heels for you.”
“You don't know that!”
“Anyone with eyes knows that!” he sighs. “And besides, he’s literally told you he loved you once.”
"Huh?" You blink a few times, trying to remember if he had. "No, he hasn't?"
"Yes, he has.”
"I'm pretty sure I'd remember that, Sukuna.”
"Unless you were—“ Sukuna grimaces as he finishes his sentence,”—too fucked out to remember or hear him.”
Your mouth falls in shock. “He said it during sex?!”
"Man, I don't fucking know,” Sukuna says, his grimace growing deeper. "I didn't ask for the details; I hung up on him. What the fuck?”
“Oh my god, I'm an idiot,” you mumble to yourself.
Sukuna knows you weren’t talking to him, but he still answers anyway. “I know.”
“Fuck.” You take a deep breath and seem to come to a conclusion almost immediately. "Okay, this was very insightful. Thank you. I'm gonna go to his house now.”
"Dude, don't go unless you like him back.” He frowns slightly, and you and him both aren’t sure if it’s actually for Choso or just for the sake of acting nice. “Just give him space.”
“Of course I like him back!” you stress. "I only went on that date to make him jealous in the first place."
In an instant, Sukunas' face falls flat. "I'm not even going to say anything. Fuck you, get off my porch.”
and the next thing you know, he’s slamming his door in your face.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆
It doesn’t take long until you’re at Choso’s front door. In all honesty, you ran here. It’s not like Choso’s is very far from Sukuna’s in the first place, but you’d rather not waste any more time; you’ve wasted enough as it is. You knock softly at first, but when that doesn't seem to work, you full-send it and start banging on his door.
“Choso, open the fucking door and come talk to me!”
He doesn’t.
but you do hear him grumble from inside, “Go away, Y/n.”
“Stop acting like a child!”
That seems to do the trick, considering he flings the door open so fast it gives you whiplash. He stands in the doorway, shirtless, looking as disheveled as ever. You can’t help but stare at the way he makes looking messy like art. like every detail, from his frizzy, sticking-up hair down to the bags under his eyes, is purposeful. You don’t know how long you stand there just ogling at him, but you know it’s long enough for him to notice and call you out on it.
"Did you come here just to eye-fuck me or..."
"Right, uhm," you say, clearing your throat. “You were ignoring me.”
“Dunno what you're talking about," he shrugs curtly, looking away.
“Choso.”
“What?” he asks, turning his attention back to you with narrowed eyes, like he’s challenging you.
You narrow your eyes right back, your voice even as you speak, “You answered Sukuna but ignored me."
“Don't recall.”
You genuinely have no idea how he can stand here and lie straight to your face while looking you dead in the eyes. Does the man have no shame? (The answer is no, but you already knew that.)
“Are you serious?” You gawk before shaking your head; this is not worth it. “You know what? I'm not here to argue with you.”
This catches his attention, and as he stands up straighter, you can make out the slightest of glints in his eyes. “Then what are you here to do?”
"I love you.” After a moment, you add, “Too.”
Choso stands there, star-struck, his eyes as wide as saucers, and although you can't hear him breathing over the hammering of your own heart, you can see just how his chest heaves. You shift uneasily in place, his gaze piercing, and under different circumstances, you usually adore having his eyes on you with the way they make you feel like you're the only thing in his universe, but right now? Right now, it only serves to make you alarmingly aware of how you just laid out your heart to him, and he hasn't said a word.
"Choso, did you hear me?”
"Am I asleep?”
Despite your better judgment and jelly-like legs, you take a step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, answering with a small, breathy laugh. "No, Choso, you're not.”
You watch mesmerized at how his adam's apple bobs as he swallows harshly and mutters, "I'm not..."
“Nope.”
“And you love me?”
“Always have.” You look down and notice how languid Choso is in your hold, his hands at his sides rather than on you, and that just won't do. Choso does not keep his hands to himself, especially not around you. You make quick work of untangling your arms from his neck and grabbing his hands, placing them on your hips before returning your arms to their original state as you speak lowly, "I went on that date to make you jealous. I thought it didn't work."
Bringing up the date was apparently all it took to break Choso out of his trance; all of a sudden, his hands are exploring up from your hips to your waist, softly squeezing and pulling at the flesh as if making sure you’re really there—that he really isn’t asleep and having the same dream that he’s had for forever now.
“It worked a little too well, Y/n,” he says, chuckling.
"Yeah, I guess it did, didn't it?"
"Wait, how do you even know that I love you?” His face scrunches up in confusion. “I didn't-“
You cut him off with an awkward laugh. “Sukuna gave you up and called me an idiot for not seeing it before…”
"Well..." he half-shrugs innocently. “He’s kinda right.”
You roll your eyes. "Haha, you're so funny.” You clear your throat before subtly glancing to the side and over your shoulder, mumbling,
"Can you let me in now, though? Cause I'm pretty sure there's people staring at us…” 
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©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD
357 notes · View notes
ressjeon · 1 year
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endearing | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: you're just worried when your loud housemate suddenly goes quiet after serenading you for hours
rating: pg13 | word count: 1.3k
genre/au: housemates!au, romance?, fluff (lmao who's this), they're just fRiEnDs 🤭
warnings/content: just alcohol consumption, they're sweet ig 🥰
a/n: yk i’m supposed to be on break (literally on midterm season) but here we are. also i haven’t written a purely SFW drabble for a very long time so please bear with me i just love him sm. huge thank you to my phone's voice feature lol, i'd never finished this in a few hours with how slow i usually am.
companion song: more than friends by becky g 💖
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You’re scrolling through your phone when you notice that the whole house has suddenly turned quiet.
You couldn’t be that you’re fixated on your phone that you didn’t notice your housemate has ended his karaoke session because you swear the living room was still loud just a few minutes ago. Jungkook, one of your housemates, has been singing his heart out since past 1 AM today. Not that you mind it really, because you’re a night owl, just like him. You love it when he does his live streams because he usually does karaoke sessions in each of them no matter what he was doing at first.
Jungkook’s one of the popular students on your campus and has a huge following on his IG account, which he uses mainly for everything, no matter how random they are. He deletes his pictures often though when he feels like changing his feed. You’re hoping that he just archived them because he’s quite talented at photography. However, he does frequent lives on IG in return since people tune in when he goes live anyway, filled with comments from either his group of friends or his admirers.
It’s been a while since you heard Jungkook singing. He has a very beautiful voice that even though he doesn’t remember the lyrics for most of the songs that he sang, he still sounded so good to anyone who’s listening. Your other housemates are still not back from their reading week vacation, giving Jungkook the only time when he could be as loud as he can in the house without disturbing anybody. He’s aware that you stay up like him and listen to him when he’s singing, relieved that out of your housemates, it’s you who remained with him. Both of you are the only ones who didn’t go anywhere because of your packed schedules.
Tonight, as diverse as his playlist is, you still feel like he’s serenading you with most of his song choices. Those songs are on your playlist too, which he knew since you’ve shared each other’s links before. So now you’re going to let yourself be deluded, humming along to the songs while you’re getting your tasks done. When the music stopped, you thought he was just taking breaks, so you didn’t think much of it. Jungkook usually creates small noises after he’s done, cleaning up the living room and kitchen before going back to his room.
But it’s suddenly quiet. Did he fall asleep already? Should you check, but then why would you? Jungkook sleeps anywhere at any time unlike you, but you’ve always been paranoid. The lazy part of you wants to close your eyes and fall asleep already, but the other part wants to go down and check. It’s just normal right just in case? Besides, it’s also part of your responsibility as a housemate.
It’s the least you could do for Jungkook because he took care of you many times when you come home drunk from house parties at 5 AM. He even took as much as helping you by being there while you let everything out, offering you a glass of water and making sure you remove your makeup before tucking you into your bed after. He cooks you noodle soup in the morning too in case you get hangovers, which you thankfully don't but your heart somersaults every time with how thoughtful he is.
So despite how comfy your bed is right now, you forced yourself to get up and pushed away your comforter before going down to the living room to check.
And your guts were right because you see Jungkook sleeping soundly on his stomach by the couch with a lighted-scented candle on the table in front of him. The light from the candle allows you to see his handsome face clearly, with flushed cheeks and slightly puckered lips as he sleeps in his arms. He looks adorable, wearing a black crewneck in sweater paws, obscuring his colourful sleeve from your eyes. His cute snores crack a small smile on your face as you approach his sleeping figure, carefully taking the remote from his hands. Sure, he’s a deep sleeper, but you didn’t want to wake him up because it’s already 4 AM and you’re a bit sleepy too.
You then turn off the TV and unplugged the mood lamp that he designed for one of his classes. It’s so pretty, and he brings it out in the living room once in a while, especially when he’s doing his live streams. You also just noticed the half-filled beer mug on the table, taking it with you to the kitchen where you’ve put it back on the ref before deciding to look for spare blankets for him. You couldn’t find any though, so you just opted for his room, which is surprisingly wide open.
Jungkook stays in the room on the first floor, so he frequents the living room when he’s not gaming or doing schoolwork. Entering his room, you grabbed his blanket at once, fighting the urge to nuzzle it, given how good Jungkook usually smells when you hug him. You went back to the living room and put the blanket over him, pushing away a strand of his hair from his closed eyes before tucking it behind his ears. His hair had gotten longer and curly, so fluffy too that you’d been expressing how you love this look on him. Jungkook smiles when you do, letting you ruffle his hair more.
He stirs a bit, causing you to go rigid and worried that you woke him up. You don’t move until you were sure that he’s fully sleeping. And though he might not hear it, you still wish him a quiet good night before eyeing the candle. You love the smell of it but for safety reasons, you blow out and retreat upstairs to your room.
.
The footsteps padding in the hallway woke you up from your deep slumber, being the sensitive sleeper you are. You’re wondering how Jungkook’s awake at this hour and why he’s up here, reluctantly rising from your bed before opening the door. There you watch him scurrying back to the stairs wrapped in his blankets looking like a deer caught in the headlights when he hears you.
“Jungkook? why are you awake? do you need something? it’s still early” you asked him sleepily while rubbing your eyes.
“um, i woke up and i-uh” he couldn’t look you in the eye, the nervousness evident in his voice. “you can’t sleep?” you yawn, yearning to go back to your comfy bed but you just wanna talk to him more. 
Jungkook shakes his head. “i just wanna say thank you for earlier and uh-sorry for waking you up” he grins apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.
“oh Kook, that’s nothing compared to what you’ve done more for me” you smile at him, truly grateful for his existence in your life. Hold, you’re sleep deprived to be having these thoughts right now but Jungkook just looks so endearing in your eyes despite how sleepy you still are. 
Damn, you really should sleep more.
He’s oddly looking at you fondly so you mimic him, both of you waiting who will back down first. Jungkook looks like he wants to say something more, tongue poking around his lip ring with that doe eyes of his. You smile at him, urging him to continue. He’s back to being shy around you these days for some reason but you don’t wanna pry, just want him to be comfortable as much as possible. 
“i’m still sleepy so i’m going back to my room” you can see him retracting so you approach him, a knowing smile already plastered on your face. “do you wanna cuddle? i think we’ll fit in my bed” his nervous eyes were replaced with excitement, following you to your room.
You didn’t even get to lie down on your bed properly when he tackles you, spurring a hearty giggle out of you with him matching you. “what?” he hugs you right away, mumbling something against your skin as he snuggles his head on the crook of your neck. Your hands automatically card through his luscious hair until you hear his breathing slow down, and his cute snores occurring once again. 
Guess you’ll never know what all these are for until he wakes.
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e/n: i'm testing many things from this so hope it's wholesome enough lmao (i tried). have a lovely week everyone!
853 notes · View notes
cherrysha · 1 month
Text
Ritual
Summary: Choso Likes sneaking into ur room when ur out on missions...
Warnings: Stalker Choso, Invasion of Privacy, Masturbation
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: This was a blurb from a bigger fic that just felt a little too bloated,,, and if you've seen this before its because i posted it on a backup acc! also if formatting is off, ill fix it in the morning <3
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It’s a secret. Something he doesn’t plan on letting anyone else know, something he doesn’t ever want you to find out either. Something that, deep down, he knows he should be ashamed of, but he does it anyway.
The halls are quiet as he creeps across the wooden floors of the teacher’s dorms. Lamplight flickers, moths lazily flitting around them as his shadow blinks in and out of existence, the only proof of his late night rendezvous. Rounding the corner, his eyes sharply analyze the inky darkness, ears tuned in to the listless noise of the night, crickets chirping and the sound of trickling water from the koi pond outside. Easily he finds his way, knowing the path all too well. When he approaches the door, the knob lets out little more than a dry creak at the pressure of his hand, but he’s still careful of how the old wooden door moans in protest at his intrusion.
Your room is as quiet as it usually is when he makes these visits. You’re always gone, off on some mission he knows with certainty is below your pay grade. It leaves an ache in his heart he won’t admit to but still feels every time you leave. A deep-seated worry for your safety. He knows your capable, but then again, he had deemed his younger brothers capable of holding their own too.
He soundlessly closes the door before rubbing his sweaty palms on the pajama bottoms Yuuji picked out for him. Still trying to figure out if he likes this new style of dress, arguably finding his robes more comfortable to wear.
When he steps deeper into the room he’s greeted by the sweet smell that tends to linger around you, and it calms the mad thumping of his heart. Your room is neat, organized, like it usually is whenever you leave. Your bedsheets, however, are a different story, and his hand’s twitch that the sight of them. It’s been too long since he’s had this pleasure, its sick, he knows, but he finds solace in the feel of your sheets around him. Cocooned in the scent you leave behind and wrapped in what feels like the proverbial softness that you spare to him.
With a shaky sigh Choso climbs into your bed, cool sheets slowly warming up to him stirs something deep in his chest.
It’s not the first time he’s done this, not even the second, but the searing guilt that momentarily burns through his stomach still makes his wandering hands falter. Of course they continue down his body, lightly grazing the dark hairs that dust just below his navel before continuing lower, past the confinement of his bottoms and down, down, down, until he’s reached his destination. His cock is already firm, warm to the touch and more sensitive than it needs to be as memories of you lazily drift in and out of his consciousness. His skin feels hot, throat tight at the intimacy of it all.
Would you be as open and welcoming if you knew? If you saw how his hand lazily pumped his cock in the one place you thought you had privacy? He tries not to think about it. Instead, busying himself with tracing his fingers on the underside of his shaft, a whimper drawn tight in his throat and only breaching the air once he exchanges the lazy touches for a too firm grip at the base. His grip only lessens once his hand moves upward, coming almost completely off before slowly sliding back down. It’s something that should be savored, he doesn’t get this opportunity very often, and so he takes his time. He’s seen you once, all dolled up to take Nobara and Yuuji shopping in Tokyo. You were wearing tight fitting clothes, something he enjoyed about this century’s fashion. He could see so much skin, your legs on display in a pair of shorts, a blouse that did nothing to hide the valley of your cleavage to his prying eyes. Choso was extremely grateful when you left. Hiding himself away until the urge became too irresistible. Until his hands had greedily pumped his swollen cock at the thought of you. Just as they did now, except this time his movements were careful, precise.
With a lick of his lips, he shifts his gaze to your bedside table. It’s almost ritualistic at this point, an itch he just can’t scratch that rears its ugly head the moment his sweeping gaze finds the picture frame. Your smiling face stares back at him behind the glass. There are other people, but he can only see you. Can only smell you and hear the tinkling sound of your voice as you say his name. His pace becomes faster, breath heavier as he imagines how it’d sound to hear you moan it. How it would feel to have your lips on his neck and your hands on his body. An audible choking noise echoes in the emptiness of the room as Choso’s free hand cups the weight of his balls. As if the movement was unintentional on his part, shocking him with the warmth of his palm and he has to tighten his fist against the base of his cock to keep from cumming. The movement doesn’t work in his favor, the elastic of his pants rubbing against the sensitive underside and making his hips stutter on a broken whine as his orgasm washes through his body. Hot lashes of cum paint the skin of his hips and the front of his pants. Whimpering, he quickly picks up his pace in an effort to prolong the sensation, hand tightening around his balls and eyes dotting with tears as he breaches into the feeling of oversensitivity and forces his body to continue. It’s not fair, none of it is fair. He shouldn’t be so sensitive, biting back a whine he continues lazily fucking his fist, hips arching into the rough feel of it. Surely, you’d be so much softer, your mouth, your hands, your pussy. The thought alone is enough to make his hips jerk up in search of something more. By the time he’s finished torturing himself, cum has started to dry on his pants.
It’s not a big deal, Choso knows exactly where you keep tissues. Knows that once he wipes himself down, he needs to take the evidence with him, stuff the mess into his own pocket. He’ll hesitate as he goes to leave, a sickening urge to stay roiling in the pit of his stomach. Just like always.
The cycle will inevitably repeat itself. You’ll leave, he’ll invite himself in, curse as he gets droplets of cum on your sheets, and leave once the excitement has worn off. You’ll return and give him that same warm smile you always save for him.
Deep down he’s wondering how long until your face twists in disgust. How long until you find out who he truly is. His cock twitches at the thought, blood shooting to his pelvis, his fingers clamp hard around the base as he tries to catch his breath, suddenly winded at the thought. Lazily, he starts pumping again, the only noise being the wet glide of his fist and whispers of your name spoken into the cool night air.
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gingerparker · 11 months
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PULL ON MY THONG
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Pairing: College!Peter Parker X Reader
Summary: Peter needs a vacation. So, naturally, he goes to Vegas during his summer break. He's thin on cash and finds a job at a water park! The hot girl behind the bikini bar is a great bonus to his biweekly paycheck.
Warning: Fluff, sexual tension, teasing, slight body worship, drinking (both reader and Peter are 21+)
Word Count: 7158
A/N: let's pretend this wasn't a summer writing challenge... life happened HARD for it to be posted now.. but i hope y'all enjoy anyway ajsjjs DISCLAIMER!! i know the hotel i used here doesn't have a water park but i was too lazy to use a real one sooo it's an invented one!
It's too warm as soon as Peter exits the airport. It's a sticky and dry kind of warmth, no wind of any kind can be felt around him. His small luggage feels like it weighs 5 tons more than it did mere seconds ago and he realizes how stupid it is to have worn dark clothes.
Travellers push past him to find a cab of any kind to get out of the intense heat. Families get into larger Ubers and some are crazy enough to be walking out. Peter is not that determined.
He has to shuffle through the crowd to find a free cab, they are being filled much quicker than he would have thought. Thank god for his faster pace.
Inside the car, he's blasted with cool air, the sweat on his forehead seemingly evaporating.
The drive to his hotel is smooth. He chugs the rest of his water bottle minutes into the ride. Queen's weather didn't prepare him for this.
In only a few minutes he's on the strip. Billboards of all kinds flash around the cab. It's day outside yet he feels blinded by the colourful lights. He sees half-naked men posing with tourists for money as well as showgirls doing the same. He doesn't let his eyes linger too long. The sidewalk is full of people; after all, it's tourist season.
A bright pink flamingo catches his eye, his hotel seemingly calling out to him! Come, Peter! There's some air con in me maybe you could go to my bar or even check out my casin-
"Sir!" he's startled by the harsh voice that calls him, the cab driver.
"Yes?"
"We're here? I've taken you to your hotel" he gestures to the building they are parked next to.
"Oh! How much do I owe you?"
-
"Y/N, I need you to do the night shift today! Bebe is stuck in St-George, you know how horrible the construction traffic is" Your boss, Xiomara, pleads over the phone. "And I can't come in I have an appointment with my OB"
"What about Charlize?" you ask.
Your phone is on speaker on your bed and you're already looking through the clean bikinis you have ready.
"I haven't been able to reach her, please please please!" she sounds so desperate that you laugh a little.
"Should I wear the blue holo set or go for the pink and red tie-dye one?" Mars squeals loudly, her voice cracks through the speaker on your phone.
"Tie-dye!! You're a lifesaver Y/N/N, I owe you"
"No worries babes, nothing exciting was happening with me tonight" You'll just have to reschedule your date with your vibrator for another day.
"I'll buy you breakfast on your next opening shift! Wait, that's tomorrow, oh god you're gonna be so tired. I can still try and reach Char-"
"Mars! Don't worry so much, keep it going and the baby will just shoot right out of you" you laugh as you pack your bag for the evening.
"I mean I wouldn't complain. I'm very much over pregnancy" she sighs and you only hum as an answer.
You both say your goodbyes and you're quickly doing a makeup look to match your uniform for the night.
Deep red lipstick, a thick black liner that frames your eyes just the way you like and a light amount of everything else. It heats up like crazy in the small bar so you don't want to be sweating it off in seconds. The finishing touch is some body shimmer, that's for the extra tips.
You live in a resort-like rental near the Vegas Strip. Your university funds top students from other states to live in these apartments. When you'd been accepted and offered to house you; you couldn't turn it down. Leaving New York was easy enough, your parents were always travelling for their jobs and your friends were leaving for other schools so it was an easy decision.
A big bonus was that it was only 10 minutes away by foot from your job in a hotel's adult pool.
You gathered all your things and made your way out.
Tuesday nights are the slowest nights. The restricted pool access you work in usually has a long cue to be let in but currently, there are only 5 people. 7 if you count the obviously underage girls that nervously fiddle with their fake IDS.
You've only made 50$ in tips so far which is pretty disheartening. Did you waste your best body shimmer for this?
After cleaning the bar for the third time in the last 10 minutes you give up pretending to be busy. Maybe you should make yourself a drink... A nice cranberry, vodka and watermelon purée slushy... You could even try the new bubblegum gin you received...
As you're trying to figure out what to mix the new alcohol with you spot a guy. A hot guy to be precise. He looks lost as he enters the area and pockets his wallet. His eyes are wide and they seem to be full of awe. First time in Vegas probably. His abs are what make your eyes follow him. For such a soft face the body he has is a pleasant surprise, muscles that don't look too bulky and that highlight the fact that he probably takes very good care of himself.
He looks like a Long Island ice tea type of guy, who likes alcohol but doesn't like tasting it all that much. You almost want to whistle at him or do anything to catch his eye.
He'd be a better date than your vibrator that's for sure.
-
It's Peter's fifth day in Las Vegas and he just learned about his hotel's private pool. They only let people 21 years old and older in. All he knew was that there was a small water park, and the kids' screaming could be heard throughout the day.
There are more palm trees to cover up this part of the hotel's grounds, giving more privacy to whatever happens here. There's a large DJ booth elevated at the end of the pool and at least 3 different bars. The DJ obviously pressed shuffle on a Spotify playlist and decided to scroll through his phone. The 3 bartenders he sees look bored out of their minds and are seemingly playing a card game. Only about 20 other guests are enjoying the privacy of this section.
He chooses to go buy himself a drink, there's nothing much to do besides that and swim right now.
Right as he's about to go and disturb the guys playing cards he sees a little hut next to the jacuzzi. It's pure white and only has a sign on the front where it's written "Cheeky Chicks" with a bright pink bikini painted on.
His brows furrow before he steps back to look inside.
His eyes widen and his breath hitches. There stands a girl. A half-naked girl. A very very pretty half-naked girl. A girl that's already looking at him. Peter's knees might just give out under him. A smirk forms on your lips when you realised cute hot chiselled guy noticed you. This is going to be so much fun.
"Hi," you say while leaning forward on your bar a little. The guy's face heats up instantly. Red creeps up his chest and onto his face. Peter is incredibly weak for pretty girls.
"Hi," he manages to breathe out.
"Come over here," you say with a wink. No one can tell you that you aren't good at your job.
Peter nods and makes his way over to her. His steps are quicker than he initially wanted, he did want to look cool and nonchalant. Too late now!
"What's your name?" you ask when he reaches your hut.
"Um... I'm not sure" his brain is screaming the answer at him but all he can hear is "her eyes are up there, her eyes are up there, her eyes ar-"
"Mh that's unfortunate, guess I'll have to stick with sexy stranger" your smirk grows when his tongue comes out to lick his lips.
"Right, um, I'm Peter?"
"You sure about that babes?" his eyes get as wide as saucers, nicknames are appreciated... You make a mental note of this.
"Peter Parker," he says "That's my name" he nods to himself. Probably feeling very proud that he's remembered it. God, he's adorable your practically melting.
"Hi Peter Parker, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you hot stuff" You lean back to your normal position, he's been working very hard to keep his eyes in respectful eye contact.
"What can I get you, Pete?"
"Huh?"
"You walked up to my bar, don't you want a drink?" you gesture to all the alcohol you have around you.
"Oh! Um what's your favourite?" he looks at the numerous bottles around you.
"Anything turned into a slush" you answer honestly.
"Ok... Something with cherry?" he suggests with a tilt of his head. You nod and get to work.
If you mix your shaker more than usual who could fault you? It keeps his eyes on you as silence settles over. After adding a cherry and coconut slush to the alcohol mix you top it off with maraschino cherries and a bright pink swirly straw.
You hand it over to him, purposefully making contact with his hand. He takes a big sip and your stare falls to his neck. Thick but lean, muscular and so soft looking. He'd look so good with hickeys littered all over it. You could even trail some down, down, down... just under where his swimming trucks start. God, you really need to get off.
"So what do you think, babes?" you ask him as he brings his straw away from his lips. He nods excitedly as a smile spreads on his face. How can you want him to rearrange your insides and bake him a cake all at once?
"It's delicious! I can't even taste the alcohol you put in here" he nods seemingly approvingly and you smile smugly.
"That's how you know it's a dangerous drink" you wink, turning around to quickly put away the things you used to prepare Peter's drink.
"So how much do I owe you?" he takes his wallet out and opens it up with one hand.
Maybe this is your chance to be bold. Get a date out of this incredibly slow day?
"Mh it'll only cost you your phone number" you shrug with a smirk on your face. Peter sputters on the sip he'd taken and flushes from head to toe. He shakes his head quickly and puts down his cup.
"I have to pay you" he goes through the bills he has in his wallet, instantly paling. He counts them again to then meet your eyes anxiously. "Um, any luck this cost under 6$?" he laughs awkwardly taking out the six 1$ bill he had. You cringe and shake your head. Why must you go for the broke cutie? He sighs and shoves the bills into your tip jar.
"I'm sorry, my aunt always tells me to budget better but this trip has got me much shorter on cash than usual..." Peter puts his wallet away, already knowing it's best if leaves as fast as he can.
"How long are you staying in Vegas for?" your question surprises even yourself. You both expect to have him just walk away and forget this interaction happened... but alas you're incredibly weak.
"I don't know really... I bought a one-way ticket so... I'll probably try and get a ticket to leave at the end of summer" which is currently two and a half months away.
"And you already have no cash left??" you gasp. How is that even possible? "Do you have a job? Or a sugar daddy?" you add in a rushed tone, shocked at his quite reckless planning.
"Think I'd look good in a bikini?" he teases. Joking at a time like this? He might just be your soulmate.
"You'd look amazing in a bikini but this is a woman owed and woman run" You sigh dreamily at the thought of Peter in a bikini. New kink unlocked? Or are you just incredibly horny... "Although... one of the lifeguards at the water park quit! Maybe I could get a good word in for you" You start shutting off the lights in your little hut and locking up the coolers and stands around you.
"Now?" Peter exclaims. You ignore his shock and turn back to him. You spot his unfinished slushy and hand it back to him.
"Drink it at least, I'm not doing charity for you not to enjoy it" you tease him before making your way out, locking the side door and hanging up the "Closed" sign.
"Oh and I'm still expecting your phone number"
-
That's how Peter Parker got himself a job at his hotel's water park. The man running it barely asked him what his name was before he was hired. They made sure that he had the right certification for a lifeguard job and the next day he was on the schedule. Well, they wrote him in with a Sharpie and they spelt his name wrong but he had a job!
The kids were... tolerable, the pay was ok and the conditions were bearable. His favourite part, however, is the hottie that always put extra cherries on his alcoholic slushes.
It's been three weeks now since he was able to pay back the first one, and it's also been three weeks since you've exchanged numbers.
You've been texting back and forth like crazy. Just facts about your days when you aren't working at the same time or you even like to have him pick out your bikini. He gets exceptionally shy and takes forever to answer but, surprisingly, he's got impeccable taste. Peter knows it's because of how attracted to you he is. Getting to know you has only deepened how doomed he is, how quickly his feelings have shifted from plain lust.
"So you haven't fucked yet?" Ned's voice is loud out of his phone speaker and it scares the shit out of Peter. He's on his lunch break and it's his weekly bro date with Ned. They have lately been full of your name.
"No, women and men can be friends. You know this" Peter knows full well that he'd ditch the friendship in a heartbeat for something more. He'll keep this act up tho, more gentlemanly... right?
"Not when they obviously wanna bone Pete... You're telling me not even a steamy make-out session?" Peter is glad they decided not to FaceTime because he knows what face Ned would be making right now and he doesn't want to see it.
"No" He wishes. He wishes so badly. Like it's actually starting to concern him how much he just wants you to sit on his lap, put your hands in his hair, maybe pull a little, definitely call him babes like you alw- See? He's going insane.
"That's sad Petey, get a move on! If Y/N is as hot as you say then you can't waste any time!" Ned's voice is so diplomatic it's weird but comforting.
"Oh. My. God. Babes you talk about me?" your chipper voice almost startles Peter off his seat and onto the suspiciously green floors.
Peter looks at you with a terrified expression on his face, like you've caught him mid-murder. Damn, his Peter Tingle for not warning him of your arrival!
"Is that her? Y/N! PETER WANTS TO FU-"
His phone is thrown across the room at record-breaking speed, destroying it. You barely seem surprised.
The silence that takes over the room gives Peter time to look you over. What you're wearing today has to be lingerie... just enough is left to the imagination and it's hypnotising. The way the slightest movement makes you look, the up and down of your chest as you breathe, how you look walking closer to him. Wait, walking closer??
His eyes snap up to meet yours as you walk over to him.
"Take me out tonight" You lean down to his eye level. The eye contact you hold is intense. So much is communicated through facial expressions. Peter's mind repeats your statement over and over, making sure he actually heard the right thing.
"Where?"
"Anywhere near an Apple Store so we can get you a new phone" you wink.
-
Smoking hot date, check.
Carefully picked out outfit, check.
Cute but comfortable makeup, check.
Get Peter a new phone before the date actually starts, check.
You and Peter are now slowly making your way down the Vegas Strip. With the ending goal in mind to find someplace interesting to eat. You walked past many many different restaurants but nothing that made you stop walking.
Peter's hand holds yours loosely, the hot weather unsuitable for real hand-holding. He's wearing a light pink shirt with flamingos and flowers patterned around it, obviously, he hadn't packed a "date shirt" before leaving New York and bought it at his hotel. His legs are barely hidden away by his short jeans short that have numerous rips in them... God you want to bite his thighs.
"You're staring at my legs again" You can hear him smirking through the tone of his voice.
"Oh shut up!" you knock your shoulder onto his arm with a laugh.
"It's fine this most likely compensates for the number of times I've at your boobs... or your ass... or anything really when you have a bikini on" he gestures with his free hand to you. Most likely visualising a bikini on you now.
"Mh, that's true... I'll keep staring then!" you smile proudly winking at him. His face and neck flush pink as he ducks his head. He's so fun to tease always so responsive.
Conversation is easy. It always is. Your personalities mesh together perfectly which makes hanging out with him so fun.
This being more officially a date has put weight on both of your shoulders. Somehow, it's made a sliver of anxiety surround the both of you. It must mean you both want this date to go well; to have many more after.
"Oh! How about hot dogs?" Peter points to a small restaurant to his left.
"Those are probably, like funky hot dogs... I'm down, let's go!" you tug him towards Haute Doggery.
You're both greeted by a woman behind the counter when you walk in. The place is small, with four two-person tables and a high counter along one of the only bare walls. That said it's cosy and inviting so you're immediately excited.
"Wow! A foot-long hog dog??" Peter gasps as he reads the menu. You giggle at his reaction now reading the menu yourself. So many options to choose from... "Want to share two regular-sized speciality ones?"
"Only if we get fries" you nod seriously, now choosing a hot dog to share with him.
"I definitely want to try the mac and cheese one" Peter looks away from the menu to meet your eyes.
"Good choice! I saw we get that one and the breakfast one, I can never say no to hash browns"
Once you receive your order you make your way to one of the tables, ready to absolutely dig in. Peter takes the time to precisely cut in half both hot dogs and gives you your pieces.
"Cheers!" you say knocking your half with his before taking a generous bite of the breakfast delight.
-
"So this is my room!" Peter shuffles inside his hotel room before holding the door open for you.
The room is nothing crazy. One queen bed in. the middle, a dresser with a tv on top of it, grey carpet flooring, pinkish walls, a bathroom and a balcony overlooking the pools and the waterpark.
You make your way over to his freshly made bed: thank you housekeeping. You sit down on it beckoning Peter over to you. He toes off his shoes in a hurry before practically lunging at the spot next to you. Cute.
"Had fun, cutie?" you look at him with seductive eyes and a warm smile. You want him to be putty in your hands.
Peter reacts immediately to the name you call him, blushing and wide-eyed.
"Yeah, you're easy to talk to and really sex- I mean smart. Really smart." his words seem to be tumbling out of his mouth in a panic.
"Babes, calm down!! You can compliment me. Physically too" you smack his chest feeling the firm muscle of his peck.
He only nods as an answer but keeps his eyes locked with yours. You're the one to break the eye contact to glance at his lips. You want to kiss him so bad...
"Can I kiss you?" Peter might be a mind reader.
"Please" is what you answer.
Kissing Peter is immediately addicting. He's so enthusiastic, kisses like his life depends on it. His left hand goes to your back and his right cradles your jaw. Your own move around his body. Gripping his muscles, tangling in his hair, slipping under his shirt. You're having a great time exploring his body.
You bite his bottom lip playfully, tugging it towards you and it makes Peter moan in delight.
"You're so hot, I'm going insane" he mumbles between desperate kisses.
You only hum in answer wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down above you. His body is so warm against yours like he's on fire. You tug off his shirt, to help him cool down is what you tell yourself.
"I know I see you without a shirt more than with one but this is so much sexier" you trail your fingers all. over. him.
Peter turns you onto your side to unzip your romper. His lips never leave yours, the contact staying feverish and fast. It's like he wants to eat you whole. Maybe he does, you'd let him.
The shrill sound of your ringtone startles you, causing you to knock your chin into Peter's nose as you look up.
He groans as you reach to silence the (incredibly rude) device. Unfortunately, your index has other plans and presses the accept call button.
"Y/N?" Xiomara... This can only mean bad news.
"I know you're on a date and I'm so incredibly sorry to be doing this. I just went into labour and you're literally in the hotel somewhere..." Her voice is strained and you breathe out in exasperation.
Peter's head drops into the crook of your neck. His hands don't start roaming, they travel, map your body out. Every single inch of skin he can reach. Inside the romper, your face, legs, arms... Anything and everything.
"I... I don't have a bikini" you manage to say.
"I really don't care what you wear. Actually, you know what I don't care about the bar right now never mind" She hangs up immediately.
"Thank fuck for that" Peter exclaims dragging the rest of your romper off.
You laugh as he readily gets back to what he was doing. His lips on yours, guided your hands into his hair and hips bucking into yours.
Yeah, this is so much better than taking over "Cheeky Chicks" for the evening.
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imaginedisish · 2 years
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Sparks (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)
A/N: HELLLOOOO everyone!!! Here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This is my first fic in a few months so please forgive me. I am exhausted, and I’ve been writing this throughout my day (may or may not have been writing and editing in class). Thus, this may be incredibly sloppy. I am so sorry. HOWEVER, this is incredibly SMUTTY so minors SCRAM! I hope you guys enjoy. The song I reference is “Sparks” by Coldplay and it very much inspired this....but so did Cardigan by Taylor Swift. Anyway...enough of me talking...ENJOY!
Summary: Din looking out for you turns into so much more than either of you could have ever imagined (featuring *there’s only one bed*). 
Warnings: Major pining, Jedi!reader, SMUT so 18+, cursing, PIV, fingering/oral (f!receiving) no mentions of birth control so WRAP it before you TAP IT FOLKS, references to canon typical violence and injuries, idiots to lovers, crest still exists bc im a lazy writer... I think that’s it...
Word Count: 3,221
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The stars flash by the Crest in a streaky, messy blur. The light reflects off the beskar clad man next to you. The conversation had died down a half an hour ago. Now you and Din sat in warm, comfortable silence. You should really head to your bunk, but you don’t want to. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open at this point. You feel like a child on the back of a speeder, confidently telling their parents they aren’t tired, that they won’t fall asleep on the way home this time. Every second you get with Din counts, even if it means falling asleep in the cockpit and waking up with a sore back. The uncomfortable chair was worth the reward of just being next to him.
But you’d never let him know that. You couldn’t.
It probably went against his code. Or even worse, there’s always the chance he doesn’t feel the same. The thought alone makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You quickly shake it off and glance over at Din. His visor is set on the deep space in front of you.
“You’re tired,” He says, his modulated voice breaking the silence.
“No, I most certainly am not,” You jokingly insist, shifting slightly underneath the blanket he had gotten for you just a few minutes ago.
“Sure you aren’t, cyar’ika,” He chuckles softly. He knows he’s right, and you do too. But you don’t want to fall asleep, not now. Not when he’s next to you, teasing you, leading you on. It doesn’t matter if this ends in heartbreak. You just want to be with him, to hear his voice, to feel him near you.
You smirk at him, and you hope he’s smirking back underneath that helmet of his. “I’m fine, really,” You insist, your smirk turning into an appreciative smile. He nods and turns back towards the stars ahead.
You quietly wish he was still looking at you.
And then, he breaks the silence again. “Your back is gonna hurt tomorrow if you fall asleep out here,” He says softly, intently. Your heart drums away rapidly in your chest. “Don’t need you getting more hurt than you already do because of me…” He trails off. There’s a sense of sadness in his voice. “I’m supposed to look out for you.”
You know exactly what he’s talking about. The blaster shot, just a week ago. Your hand finds its way underneath your shirt, rubbing softly at the wrap Din had resecured over the injury earlier this morning while you were still on Tatooine.
“Din,” You whisper, inching to the edge of your chair to be closer to him. “I’m here because I chose to be, because I want to be,” You pause for a second to stop yourself from giving away more than you mean to. “And I’d be getting into trouble no matter what, with or without you,” You joke. It was true. Maybe it wouldn’t be bounty hunting, and it certainly wouldn’t be Jedi stuff like your parents had tried to force you to learn throughout your childhood, but it would’ve been something.
If you were to be completely honest, one thing you’re fully convinced of is that whatever it would be, it would always be with Din, in every universe, every timeline. Something called you to him, clung you to him. The stars, the force, something. Whatever it was, it kept you here.
He turns his helmet towards you and stares in silence for a few seconds. Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest at the attention. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. He takes a hand off the controls and reaches towards you, resting his hand on your own.
“Thank you,” He mutters through his vocoder. He’s rarely ever this open, this vulnerable with you.
“You don’t have to thank me for being honest,” You whisper, practically unintelligibly. Your nerves are getting the best of you. One more move from Din and you’ll melt into a puddle of words you’ll never be able to take back.
He squeezes your hand softly and pulls away. Somehow, your hand has never felt colder than it does in this very moment.
After a few minutes, his voice fills the cockpit once again. “Just don’t fall asleep out here, ‘kay? Take the bunk if you’re tired. You need rest.” Despite the modulator there’s a warmth in his voice. You could swear there’s even a hint of care, possibly even love…
No, You think to yourself. Maybe you should head to the bunk. Maybe you do need space from Din. What are you supposed to do when you can’t hold these stupid feelings back anymore? What are you supposed to do when the inevitable happens, when he delivers that final crushing blow, ‘I don’t feel that way about you, I’m sorry.’ You stare off into the distance. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You were doomed from the start. So foolish, so fucking foolish, You think.
“You okay?” Din’s words yank you from your thoughts. He’s staring at you again, and you’re more than positive that there’s a look of concern hidden beneath that visor.
All you can muster is a quiet yes and a subtle nod. Din nods back, but you know he’s not quite buying it. He looks towards the control panel, quickly flicking some lever on. Your eyes are too heavy to pay attention to what he’s actually doing. “I know I’m not as…open as you,” He pauses for a second, debating what to say next, “But if something’s wrong, I’m here. You can talk to me.”
“I know,” You whisper back. And Maker, did you want to.
The cockpit finally succumbs to comfortable silence once again. Despite your endlessly wandering mind, it was even harder to stay awake now. Thinking about all the possibilities and paths was far too overwhelming. It took up more energy than you had. So, just as Din expected, you drift off to sleep, your exhaustion finally taking hold.
He looks over at you, curled up against the co-pilot’s chair, laying on your side, facing him. You had fallen asleep; he knew you would. You always did. Din smirks, you never did listen. He loved that about you, your stubbornness, your independence. He knows you can’t stay like that though, sleeping on that rigid chair, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. You barely sleep enough as it is.
He stands up from the pilot’s chair and walks over towards you, carefully taking your legs under one arm and your upper body under the other. He scoops you up and walks out of the cockpit and towards the one and only bunk on the Crest.
You can feel the cold beskar against your side, your skin slightly exposed as your shirt rides up your stomach. You absent-mindedly nestle into Din’s chest, your eyes slowly fluttering open.
“Din?” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. Part of you thinks this isn’t real, that you’re dreaming, and you’ll wake up in the co-pilot’s chair alone.
He shushes you softly, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. “I’ve got you, cyare.” His voice is calmer than usual, more relaxed. “You fell asleep in the cockpit.” He approaches the bunk, loosening his hold on you ever-so-slightly as he carefully places you down onto the bed. But you don’t let go of him, you want to keep him close.
Once he’s sure you’re secure in the bunk, his hands slide out from under your body and up to where your arms rest around his neck. He doesn’t let go. It isn’t until you feel his fingers brushing against your bare arms that you realize his gloves are off.
Maybe now is the time to test the waters. You can feel the word vomit coming up, burning your metaphorical and emotional esophagus. And Maker, do you wish he’d just lay down with you, sleep next to you. Maybe the risk is worth the reward.
“Would you stay with me?” The words finally leave your lips. You’re shocked at your ability to ask a question like that. You had never shared the bunk before. One of you always slept in the cockpit. “You should rest too,” You say, trying to cover up your true intentions.
Din shifts a bit in his spot, but he still doesn’t let go of you. You can see the gears turning in his head. “Okay,” He decides. You practically gasp with shock, and you embarrassingly do your best to hide it.
He takes his armor off, but not his helmet, like he always does. You’ll never get over how he looks without his chest plate, his broad shoulders, his tan skin. You move further into the bunk, giving Din space to climb in next to you. He shuts the door to the bunk, and only once the tiny space has been encased in darkness does he remove his helmet.
You’re up against one another, face to face, no space in between – not even an inch. You’d never been with him when he didn’t have his helmet on. Your stomach does a backflip at the thought that he feels safe taking it off with you, even if it’s in the darkness.
He hesitantly drags his hand up to your waist, resting it softly just above your hip. “Is this okay, cyare?” You had never heard his voice unmodulated. It’s clearer, unadulterated. Honey, golden, but still somehow rough. You want to replay every word that he says.
You hum a yes into the darkness. You nervously bring your hand up to his neck, waiting briefly for him to protest – but he doesn’t. “What’s that mean, cyare?” You ask, struggling to pronounce the word.
He takes a few seconds before answering your question. You can’t help but think that you’ve pressed too far. “Don’t worry about it,” He says finally. Yep, pressed too far, you think to yourself.
You quickly remove your hand from his neck, immediately realizing that you’ve crossed a million boundaries all within a matter of seconds. “I’m sorry I just-,”
He grabs your hand before you can get too far away from him. “It means beloved,” He says curtly. “And cyar’ika,” He pauses, and you can hear him swallow harshly. “It means sweetheart.”
You try not to overthink his confessions, or translations rather. They could just be meaningless pet names that have absolutely nothing to do with how he feels for you. Why get riled up only to be brought back down?
But then again, there’s no avoiding this forever, and there’s no time like the present.
“Din,” You whisper. You’re not sure you can finish your sentence. You can feel his breath brush against your lips. “I…” You trail off, noticing how much the bunk smells like him, musk and spice and something else you can’t quite place.
“What is it, mesh’la?” He asks.
You laugh anxiously to yourself. “You didn’t tell me what that one means,” You say, trying to stall, to buy time.
“I’ll tell you once you tell me what’s on your mind,” He says coolly, as if none of this is affecting him. He knows what he’s doing.
You take a deep breath. “I think about you Din,” You mumble nervously. “All the time, and I think I-,”
He cuts you off, stealing the words from you, as if he could read your mind. “I love you.”
His lips come crashing down onto yours in the darkness. The kiss isn’t rushed or hurried, but there’s a hunger to it, a feeling you’ve never felt before. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him – if that’s even possible.
You’re almost upset when he comes up for air. It isn’t enough, you need more. You want to be forged to him somehow, irreversibly, and irrevocably sealed to one another.
“I love you,” You say to him, breathing heavily, your heart beating out of your chest.
“I know,” He says back, his lips meeting yours once again.
His hand slips under your shirt, his thumbs dragging against your skin. Heat rushes to your core and you can’t help but let out a soft moan – after all, you and Din are far beyond touch starved.
He pushes himself up and over you so that you’re held down underneath him. Your hands explore his entire body, his waist, his stomach, his abs, until you finally reach his face. You find his lips with the tips of your fingers. Din peppers them with kisses as you glide upwards towards his nose, then the bags under his eyes, his forehead. You wished you could see his face, but for now this would do. This was more than enough. This was more than you could have ever asked for.
“Wanted this for so long, cyare,” Din says between breaths. He burrows his head into your neck, nipping at the exposed skin. “Wanted you this whole time,” He says, his lips pressed against your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.
His hands move further up your body, pushing under your bra. “Please Din,” You mumble. “Need you.” And that’s all the permission he needs. He pushes your shirt up and over your head, throwing it somewhere in the mess of bunk, along with your bra.
He rolls his thumb over one nipple before moving to the other. “You’re so fucking perfect, so beautiful,” He sighs, pinching your nipple slightly before trailing down towards the waist band of your shorts. He tugs on the fabric and dips his hand inside. He feels the outside of your panties, already soaked through. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so wet for me mesh’la.”
You squirm underneath him. You need him to touch you, to do something, anything. “Din,” You mutter. “I-,”
Before you can finish your sentence, he’s yanking your shorts and your panties down your legs. He climbs back over you, his hand trailing up your inner thigh before diving into your folds and settling on your clit.
“Wanna make you come, pretty girl,” He whispers against your ear, his fingers making quick work of rubbing your clit. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing. His words alone could send you over the edge.
You shudder under his touch as he quickens his pace. “Feels s’good,” You moan into his mouth as his lips come down onto yours.
“Doing so good for me,” Din murmurs. “Being such a good girl.” You can feel yourself getting closer and closer as Din’s fingers press harder against your clit, circling faster. You throw your head back and moan his name.
Then, out of nowhere, Din’s hand leaves your heat. You need more, you need to feel him. “Please don’t stop,” You beg shamelessly. The covers shuffle as he moves, and you can feel the weight of the mattress sink a bit.
He doesn’t give you much time to grieve the loss of his fingers, his tongue dragging up the inside of your thigh. “Oh fuck,” You whimper as Din’s mouth meets your heat. You can feel his beard softly scratching against your legs. He brings his fingers towards your folds, pushing inside. “S-shit,” You stutter as Din pumps two fingers in and out of you.
His tongue alternates between swirling around your core and sucking roughly against your clit. “You taste so good, so fucking good,” Din’s voice vibrates against you, making it harder to hold on. “Can’t wait to be inside of you.” His fingers pick up their merciless pace, pumping in and out.
“Din, I-I can’t…” You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. You’re on the brink, you can’t hold back any longer.
“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” Din coos. He laps at your folds in between sentences. “Let go for me mesh’la.”
You feel your walls tightening around his fingers as waves of searing hot pleasure wash over you. “Din!” You cry out, his fingers still pushing in and out of your folds, his mouth still sucking softly against you. He slows his pace as you come down from your high before finally pulling away from you.
He pushes himself back on top of you, his forehead coming up to rest against yours. You reach down, your fingertips brushing against his erection.
“Need you inside of me, Din, please,” You beg, jerking him off gently through his pants. Din groans audibly, and you stop for a moment to hook your fingers under his waistband. Din helps you, shoving them and his boxers down his legs and casting them off into the mess that you two had made.
He grabs his cock in his hand, jerking it off a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. You can feel the head of his length as he pushes through your folds and sinks all the way inside you. You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as he fills you up. He moans your name, and it hangs in the air, reverberates against the walls of the bunk.
“So fucking tight for me,” He groans, pulling himself out of you to pump back in and bottom out. He’s so deep inside of you, hitting the right spot with each thrust. “You feel so good.” You clench around his length at the sound of his voice.
He reaches down, the tips of his fingers once again finding their way to your clit. Din immediately begins rubbing rough circles, just as he did before. He finds his pace, rutting in and out of you rhythmically. It isn’t long until you feel yourself growing closer to your peak.
“Din,” You sigh, barely able to get a word out. “I’m so close.”
“M-me too, pretty girl,” Din stutters, somehow finding a way to pump into you harder and faster. “F-fuck, taking me so well.” He presses harder into your clit, circling around your core. You bring your hands up to his back, digging your nails down into his skin. It was too much. You could feel yourself getting closer with each thrust. You can feel your walls tightening uncontrollably around him. “That’s it, good girl. Come for me.” And you can’t help but give in.
“D-Din!” You practically scream his name, coming undone around him. You throw your head back, seeing sparks and stars as you hit your peak. Din is close behind, his pace growing sloppier as he comes inside you. He slowly thrusts in and out before pulling out.
He takes a deep breath, his forehead coming down to rest on yours.
“You’re so perfect,” He whispers, his breath ghosting your nose. “Shouldn’t have waited so long to do that…” He trails off, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.
“I love you Din,” You say, still out of breath. “I always have. I would’ve waited longer if I had to.”
He kisses you again, even gentler than last time. “I always knew you’d be the death of me,” He chuckles. You can feel his laugh vibrate through his face, through his whole body. No beskar, no hiding. “And I promise, I will always love you, cyar’ika…
“Always.”
Yeah, I saw sparks
Yeah, I saw sparks
And I saw sparks
Yeah, I saw sparks
1K notes · View notes
sugar-omi · 8 months
Note
Ello! Could you do Mornings with Cove, Derek, and Baxter? Fem! MC, plz!
the boys are so sappy n in love w you/mc it's SICK also does anyone else have trouble keeping their bonnet/scarf on bc i don't even bother anymore, n i alrdy tried the hair pins. it worked once n then never again i sleep like a wild animal istg ANYWAY!! enjoy anon! i'm so sorry it took so long<333
tags : Fluff, fem/afab reader (use of girl, ma'am, wife), multiple choice dialogue, every scenario has different tags bc it's easier for me that way👍, newly established relationship (derek/baxter), marrying cove
[scenarios in order of cove>baxter>derek]
synopsis : how you spend your mornings with the boys
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tags : step 3 / in between step 3-4, you proposed to cove at the end of summer, eloping, moving in together
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you're slow to wake up, rolling over and taking all the sheets with you.
you huff and try to untangle the sheets from under body and around your leg... once you're comfortable enough you pull your dangling pillow back onto the bed.
you reach over for cove, wanting to be close to your new husband.
"cove?" you finally open your eyes and search around the room. it's empty. well, save for the boxes and the new mattress on the middle of the floor where you slept together last night.
before you can call out again you hear some clinking and the sound of a sink running.
begrudgingly, you leave your nest of blankets in search of cove. it was worthless to stay in bed if he wasn't there.
first though you should wash up a bit, moving all those boxes had you so tired and you slept good.
you creep up behind cove, you already know he's heard you, but between the sizzling of the pan and the messy playlist terry oh so graciously made for you two.
determining there's not danger of one of you getting hurt by the hot pan in the case cove flinches, you wrap your arms around cove.
"oh-!" cove tenses up, putting a hand on your arm.
he laughs when you mumble "good morning" into his back, still sleepy and you almost fall asleep with your head leaned against him. cove is so comforting...
"don't fall asleep back there, i'm almost done cooking." cove's voice rumbles through you, disrupting your nodding head.
"mhm..." you slink over to the couch. it's crooked and in the middle of the room, all but thrown haphazardly in the room by the movers.
you blink, watching the trees sway and cars zoom by.
you're not in the heart of the city, but you're certainly not out in the middle of nearly nowhere like sunset bird.
"here ya go." the plate comes into view, startling you from your daydream.
you mumble your thanks, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. the meal is simple enough and made from whatever snacks and foods you took from your parents' house that are signaturely yours, but there's toast on the side and that's all that matters.
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you eat in silence, propping up your computer on some boxes and watching a video, and after you're done eating, you continue down the funny animal rabbit hole.
"this is nice." you say suddenly, whispered almost.
"hey, that's my line." cove teases and you two share lazy wolfish grins. "no~, your line is saying that i'm nice." you correct, proving your innocence.
"so i'm not nice?" cove lays out a trap and you willingly fall into it.
"you are nice, very nice." you lean in to steal a peck, to which cove takes more. when you pull away, you can't help but laugh about it, it's cute how cove always wants more affection from you.
"i'm just saying, it's nice to be with you like this." you flush, suddenly aware of how embarrassing this is to admit. "y'know, being married and living together, 'n all that stuff..." you trail off, glancing off to the side as you let cove process what you said with a flustered face.
suddenly, his arms tighten around you and you look up to see him teary eyed.
"i'm happy too!"
you laugh, reaching up to wipe his tears away. "good."
cove sniffles, his voice thick from crying but also from affection. "i really liked waking up to you today, it was.. nice."
cove's blush must have been contagious because you felt your own face get hot. "i can't say the same since you were missing, but it was nice sleeping together. and we get to do it everyday and every night."
cove laugh, looking off to the side from being embarrassed at your admissions. "sorry, i was just so happy i wanted to surprise you in bed, but you got up before i could get back."
you smile, curling your fingers in his hair. "well, we got our whole lives for that."
you could practically see the hearts popping off cove, "will you wait for me to bring you breakfast tomorrow?"
you laugh, "sure cove."
cove puffs up, happy with every second that goes by. "what do you want to eat? we can go out shopping today. i really want to try this new flavor of juice i saw a few days ago, it's strawberry something..." cove rambles and you let him go on, agreeing and adding onto the verbal list.
eventually, cove pulls out his phone to write this down and you whisper, full of tenderness. "we're being domestic again, but it's for real this time since we're living together."
cove squeaks, unable to hide his face since his hands are holding his phone tight, trying not to drop it on you. "w-we are, aren't we?" cove laugh, happy again.
"thank you for agreeing to marry me."
cove blinks at you, surprised before he laughs. "you're doing it again."
"what?!" you sit up, grinning even though you're taking up a stance. "you've said that twice, what's that supposed to mean!"
cove shrugs, leaving you hanging. he hooks his arms around your neck, eyes full of love. "as if i'd ever say no, i mean.. i never really thought about getting married, but... well, i wouldn't marry anyone else."
you blink away tears, leaning down to capture cove in a kiss.
he hums happily, letting you slide your hand up his shirt when you get lost in each others lips before you pull away.
"let's elope."
"wh-what?!" cove scrambles, forcing you to sit up but he can't go anywhere with you on top of his lap.
"elope, let's get eloped." you repeat, suddenly embarrassed.
cove coughs, "right now?!"
you nod before you back track, "i mean.. unless you don't want to! i can wait, i'm just so happy that it came out..."
it's silent for a moment, and cove is trying to get his temperature down before he explodes..
"let's do it."
you snap your neck to look at him, "huh?"
cove is flustered and sweating a bit "let's elope.." he finally looks at you instead of his hands. "i can't wait either, and i mean.. we're going to be husband and wife anyway so, why not..?"
you grin, "okay! um- i'll get ready then." you stop, realizing there's some things that should be done before hand, "oh, maybe we should call our parents?"
cove nods, giving a strained smile. "they're gonna tease us again.."
you take his hand, "thats okay. we'll suffer together." cove pushes your shoulder with his and rolls his eyes.
"yeah, you're right. we got this."
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tags : (after) step 4, multiple dialogue choice for poc readers/readers w different hair length/upkeep
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you stir, your dream disturbed by someone shuffling and squirming and a hand on your cheek.
slowly letting your dream go, regrettably since it was just getting interesting, and blink sleepily at the mess of black hair beside you.
you groan, turning your head to hide it in the pillow.
"why are you up? it's not even 11 yet..." you grumble, slipping baxter's phone back under the pillow. it must've ended up there somehow after you two fell asleep in the middle of your youtube binge, and until you're ready to get up it'll stay there.
"just admiring you."
you smile, peeking at him. "no way, you're jus' saying stuff."
baxter looks so tender, his hand moving from your cheek to hold your hand. "i'm serious. you're the prettiest girl in the world."
a coy, wolfish smile comes on his face, "even if-
-your hair is sticking up on one side." you fly upright, covering your hair with your hands.
-your hair is kinda sticking up." you fly upright, snatching up your bonnet/scarf that came off in the middle of the night and fixing it.
-you drool in your sleep." you jump, rubbing your mouth to wipe away the tacky spit.
you huff as baxter chuckles away, "sorry i- ack!"
you slap baxter with the pillow, throwing the sheets away and running to the bathroom to wash up. "laugh it up! you're worse than me, y'know?"
baxter finally sits up, showing you his own messy hair do. it's flat on one side. you stifle a cackle.
he gazes at you softly, sleep and love softening his features. "i'm pas' that."
you don't bother closing the bathroom door, knowing baxter is slow on your tail. "you put salt in your coffee yesterday. are ya sure about that?"
you turn on the shower, letting the water warm up while you brush your teeth.
baxter finally comes behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek.
you hum, pleased.
baxter gazes at you through the mirror, addressing you through it. "i love you."
you feel warm, your heart skipping and beating fast at the overwhelming affection from him today. "i love you too."
baxter kisses your cheek, looking up at you through his eyelashes. "so, can i join your shower?"
"only if you behave, pepe-le-pew." you pinch baxter's cheek, grinning at how he scrunches up his face.
while you get ready for the shower, making the water warm enough for the both of you.
usually you take hot showers, but last time baxter turned red so lukewarm would have to do.
usually you take cold showers, but baxter just shook in the corner of the shower before he jumped under some hot water to warm up.
you two take showers together often, this was good bonding time for you two.
"wash my hair for me?" baxter asks, sliding up behind you.
"sure." you switch spots so baxter can get his hair wet. it's a tight fit since this shower isn't meant for two, but you make it work. it was better than the bathtub anyway, that was its own problem...
baxter sits on the stool, something you finally put in since it was straining, having to bend down every time.
"don't get shampoo in my mouth again." baxter cackles, trying not to laugh as you massage the shampoo in his hair.
"that was an accident!" you defend, "and it was your fault! you wouldn't stop laughing and talking while i was washing your hair out!"
"is that so?" baxter's suave voice echos throughout the bathroom. the sound makes you shiver.
"yeah 'that's so'! you play around too much!" you laugh and mock. "now stop talking, i'm gonna wash it out."
baxter willingly shuts his mouth, letting you tip his head back and detach the shower head to wash the shampoo out.
this gives you a good view of his face. truthfully, there are not many times when baxter is quiet, witty and flirty words always coming from his mouth, and his face is always lined with a lazy lopsided smile.
so seeing him like this, with his face relaxed and his shoulders sagging as he lets you work your hands through his hair.
"you can open your eyes now." you wipe baxter's face with your hand to get the water off his face, pushing his hair back.
baxter blinks, getting used to the change of light. he takes the shower head from your hands so he can hold your hand and he smiles, coy and mischievous. "hey there, beautiful, come here often?"
you roll your eyes, ignoring the flush coming over you. "shut up."
baxter laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your stomach, watching you.
"what're you looking at?" you feel so flustered from baxter being so soft and tender this morning.
"you." baxter intertwines your fingers. "you're the prettiest girl in the world."
you crumble, leaning over him. "can't you just say 'i love you' like a normal person.."
baxter smiles his signature lopsided grin, "nope." he says, popping the 'p'.
you two sit for a moment in silence, wrapped up in each other.
"i love you too. even though you're silly." you mumble, moving to grab baxter's face.
"i think you're helping me to look silly," he tries to smile but you're squishing his cheeks. "i love you more though."
"as if." you lean down to kiss his forehead, then his nose, which if he could, there'd be a happy tail swinging behind him. before you finally meet his lips, letting him take more than you were going to give.
"okay bax," you laugh, pushing his shoulders. "enough kisses, the waters getting cold."
his loopy, lovesick grin turns wolfish, "i'll warm you up."
baxter starts to trail his hands along your hips, going from sensual to playful as he starts tickling your sides.
you squeal, holding onto his wrists. "stop it!" you squirm, laughter echoing throughout the shower..
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tags : (after) step 4, clingy derek, reader can cook, Encanto movie mentioned (that movie SLAPPED), reader gives derek a massage
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it would be a meriacle you woke up before derek if it wasn't already coming up to 2pm.
you don't usually get up this late, but you and Derek had been up having fun and watching the sunrise just for the hell of it, that it ended up happening.
you yawn and stretch, looking at the expanse of derek's muscled back as you consider if kts worth getting up or not.
'mm, i could make him breakfast..'
now that was an idea. finally setting that as your goal, you throw off the sheets and manage to creep out the room as quietly and as quickly as possible.
you may not be the next gordon ramsay, but you at least knew your way around the kitchen. so once scrounging up some eggs and vegetables, you set onto making an omelet.
which... is harder than it looks. and the first one isn't instgram worthy for sure. looks like you'll be taking that one...
you start humming to the music you have playing quietly, swaying from side to side in place as you expertly (at least in your opinion) shimmy the spatula under the omlete to flip it.
then, right as you give a small "aha!" at your success, a sleepy, gravelly call of your name comes from the hallway.
"y/n..? where are ya?"
you bristle, looking around the disordered kitchen panicked. "kitchen! don't come in!"
you curse, taking the pan off the stove and turning off the eye quickly as you slide into the hallway. you thank derek's sleepy movement since otherwise he would've found you out already if he wasn't ready to collapse where he stood.
he blinks, rubbing his eyes. "what's going on? you need help?"
you start pushing on his chest. "no! i can handle everything here, so just go to bed, and I'll be right there, okay?"
derek laughs, letting you push him back towards the bedroom, "i mean sure but what're you-"
"nope! no questions! just go back to bed and wait for me. if you come out before i'm ready, a punishment is in order!" you nag, crossing your arms as derek gets back into bed.
"kinky."
you huff and roll your eyes, trying not to show your amusement. being half asleep also turns off half of derek's filter..
you lean over, roughly tucking him in much to his delight. "now stay here." you kiss his head before you run off, shutting the door 3/4ths of the way before you throw it back open to glare at him.
"i mean it."
derek laughs, his eyes droopy again already. "yes ma'am."
you shut the door and skip down the hall, hurrying to fix the rest of your and derek's breakfast before the omletes get cold.
bustling around the kitchen, trying to keep things neat as you go, but the stack of dishes in the sink and fallen egg shell you quickly pick up says there was a disaster happening here.
in the end, though, you find the nicest plates derek has here and a food tray before you plate up the food with care, even cutting and peeling some fruit on the side to go with your choice of yogurt or oatmeal, before making your way to the bedroom, humming.
you're happy you got to do something nice for derek, even though it almost went up in ruins a few times. be it from derek almost walking in, the questionably shaped omelet, or almost getting orange juice in your eye when peeling.
you somehow balance the tray well enough to open the door, and before you can give a loud and playfully formal announcement that food is ready, you realize derek is asleep.
he looks so serene, arm stretched out on your side of the bed and the sunlight hitting his back nicely.
you smile, creeping up and sitting the tray down carefully. equally as careful, you ease yourself onto the bed, petting derek's hair as you debate waking him up or not.
you push his hair off his forehead. his hair feels and looks so different when it's not gelled up in his signature style, he still looks handsome like this though, maybe even more-so.
"mmm, tha' you y/n?" derek takes your hand out of his hair and into his, loosely holding your hand.
"yeah. i made you breakfast but if you're too tired we can eat later." you kiss his hand.
derek hums, a dopey smile coming on his face. "i could eat." derek sits up, stretching with a groan and slumping against the pillows, trying to wake himself up.
you present the tray, popping the legs and situation it between you two so you can eat as well.
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"oh that's so sad, he just wants to eat with his family.." you fret, absent-mindedly playing with derek's hair.
derek hums, mumbling something.
you look down at him, thinking derek looks like an sleepy pup that thinks he's still a lap dog. derek is much bigger than when you guys were kids, something you still can't get used to some days.
"you falling asleep?" you push his hair back, showing derek's droopy eyes.
he squirms, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. "no.." derek yawns, burying his face into your stomach.
you laugh, tugging on little strands of derek's hair, that elicit a low, gravelly hum from him.
"okay, tell me if you want anything." you lean down, trying to kiss derek but the position just strains your neck and back.
derek looks up, peaking at you and smiling when he sees your pouty lips. he leans up, holding the back of your head as he gives you a few soft kisses that he can't help but smile through.
you smile back at him. "lay down with me.." derek purrs, his voice hoarse with sleep.
"i'm trying to watch the movie!" you laugh, derek already pulling you down the bed so you can lay with him.
"and you can watch it from my arms." derek snuggles into your neck, kissing the back of your neck which makes you shiver and laugh.
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at some point near the end of the movie you ended up falling asleep, much to your disappointment.
you smack your lips, "dang it..." you fumble for the remote in the sheets, finding it at the end of the bed, only saved by the foot board.
while you start rewinding the movie, derek walks back in.
you perk up, scooting towards the edge of the bed. "derek!" your voice is thick with sleep and your head feels cloudy still from dreamland but seeing derek makes you feel a bit excited.
"you're awake." derek comes to your side, rubbing the towel over his head. you hum, "did you fall asleep too?" you prop yourself on your knees to help derek dry off, "i slept through the ending..." you pout.
derek laughs, "we can watch it together. do you think we can start over? i wasn't paying attention earlier..." derek admits sheepishly.
you nod, then realize derek probably didn't see you before he turned around so you said yes.
while derek looks for clothes you respond to lee's spam texts about something or other.
you're in the middle of typing out another response to respond to your cousins fangirling when derek groans and sighs.
derek slumps over, rubbing his neck.
"you okay, baby?"
derek startles a bit, turning to look at you sheepishly. "yeah, i'm fine."
you roll your eyes and send a quick "brb" text before throwing the phone somewhere on the bed. "no you're not. are you stiff? sore?"
derek comes closer to you, kneeling on the rug so he can hug your waist. "a bit.. guess i've been going to hard on arm day." you both laugh.
"yeah, i don't think those guns need to het any bigger." you laugh, curling your fingers in his hair. "oh! how about i give you a massage?"
derek looks at you with wide eyes, "you can do that?"
you shrug. "i'm not a professional, but it might help. do you want me to?" derek nods, a bit too enthusiastic, which makes him blush and clear his throat. "if you don't mind.."
you shake your head and push derek's shoulders so you can stand up, "not at all, wait here.."
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it takes a moment to find the lotion, a con of having moved into a new place: everything is in an odd place.
you don't keep any oil or anything like that that would be more appropriate, so this would have to do.
derek is a bit awkward at first, but once you put on some music for yourself so you can focus, derek starts watching the animal tiktok's your friends were spamming in the group chat, occasionally apologizing for his laughter making your body bounce.
you're happy and share a few laughs and idle conversations between the two of you. you don't really know what you're doing, and mostly following a few tips from online.
derek sighs, sinking into the mattress. "that's good..."
your hands smooth over his back, spreading the lotion down to the small of his back and kneading a bit.
satisfied now that derek looks relaxed and you've done the best you can to make your lover feel better, you lean over to kiss the back of his neck. "there you go, baby."
derek hums, and you move around to lay beside him. "thank you. i feel so much better." derek nuzzles into your neck, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in.
you laugh at derek's clinginess, wrapping your arms around his back as well. "i'm glad, i wasn't really sure what i was doing."
derek starts peppering kisses all over your face, both of you smiling and laughing.
eventually, derek pulls away, having flipped you over and is gazing down at you, his eyes full of love and are a bit glassy. "thanks for taking care of me today. you're amazing..."
you reach up to cup his cheeks, "you're worth it, you need to be taken care of."
derek laughs, tears gathering on his lashes. he tucks his face into your neck, completely wrapping his body around your own. "i love you so much."
you brighten, surprised but happy with derek's declaration. that's the first time either of you have said the L-word.
"i love you too, derek."
228 notes · View notes
ironstrange1991 · 8 months
Text
Caught
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Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: The reader has a fantasy she never told Stephen about, but that changes when she is caught with her hands inside her pants.
Word Count: 3,6k
Warnings: SMUT: Strong masturbation kink, female and male masturbation, mentions of pornography, oral sex with male receiving, deep throat, cum fetich.
A/N: By now everyone must have realized that I like this kink because I've written it at least three times already, but I'm not going to apologize for that. Anyway, enjoy your reading!
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Your fingers slid in and out of your pussy at a lazy pace while your eyes were glued to your cell phone screen.
It should have just been a boring Monday afternoon, but you arrived home early from work, took a shower and with a mischievous smile decided to venture onto Pornhub looking for the same type of video that always made you cum very quickly. Too fast sometimes.
You spent a good few minutes watching and working yourself up to make the sensation last longer, but when you finally allowed yourself to lower your hand between your legs you were completely wet. It was the effect those videos had on you.
You were always looking for men who had the same body type as Stephen and recording frames that always cut their faces. They were always sitting or standing jerking off in front of the camera. They were usually short videos, two or three minutes that had the power to bring multiple orgasms out of you and the reason was simple: in your mind it was always Stephen.
You always had the fantasy of seeing Stephen masturbating, but of course you never had the courage to say that to him. The closest you came to fulfilling this fantasy was one day when you got home from work and was going into the bathroom when heard him jerking off inside.
You still remembered the feeling between your legs. How you were paralyzed, your ear glued to the door to hear all the noises he made. It was one of the most erotic moments of your life, but it ended there, you never managed to tell him what you heard, much less tell him that you wanted to see him doing it.
So you threw yourself into the Pornhub videos, looking for something in each of them that would convince your brain that it was Stephen doing that and mainly that it was you he was thinking about when he came.
You let a loud moan escape your lips as you surrendered to the pleasure building and building inside you, the knot in your stomach threatening to break. You were so close and so lost in your own fantasy that your eyes closed, no longer needing the stimulation of the video to get there because before your closed eyes was Stephen in all his glory smirking at you and cumming, ropes of cum spurting from his cock head and splashing all over his stomach.
That was always the final trigger that took you to paradise and you were almost there, almost there when you were surprised by a baritone voice.
"So this is what you do when you're home alone."
You don't know what you did faster, whether it was turning off the cell phone screen or taking your hands out of your panties. Your face got so hot it felt like it was on fire and you hid it in your hands wishing a hole would open up and you could hide inside and never be found again.
You heard a low chuckle and the sound of boots and then felt the bed dipping next to you. Stephen held your hands, moving them away from your face and making you look at him.
"You should be working." You whispered mortified.
He smirked, "So should you, but it looks like you found another more interesting activity to do this afternoon, didn't you?"
You felt a new wave of heat invading your cheeks and warming down your neck.
"And now I'm feeling terribly guilty because it feels like I interrupted what was going to be a very intense orgasm." He teased trying to contain a giggle.
"I... missed you and I was bored. I'm sorry." You finally managed to say.
Stephen cupped your cheek and stroked it with his thumb. "You look even more beautiful with your cheeks red like that, you know that? There's no need to apologize, sweetheart. I do that too. More than I'd like to admit."
Yeah, you knew that. That was precisely the whole point, wasn’t it?
You nodded, feeling your body relax a little and your clit pulsing demanding the orgasm you promised and didn't deliver.
Stephen leaned forward to kiss you. His lips were slightly salty, he was sweaty, but you didn't mind at all. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you let out a little moan, parting your lips so he could slide his tongue into your mouth, capturing your tongue and sucking it in a passionate kiss.
You let yourself melt into his kiss, feeling his hand slide down your arm slowly only realizing what he was really doing when he took your cell phone from your hand and broke the kiss giggling.
"Stephen, no..."
"Let's see what got you so worked up." He announced pressing the side button on your cell phone and you sighed in relief watching him frown when he saw the screen locked.
"Finger." He demanded.
You crossed your arms decidedly.
Stephen smirked, amused by the whole situation. "I can force you to cooperate or you can be good and I'll help you get that orgasm you've been so beautifully seeking."
He winked at you and you let out an irritated huff  "It's not fair!"
He chuckled "You know what's not fair? Me working my ass off and you touching yourself in my bed."
"Our bed" You corrected.
He smiled openly, extending his hand, palm facing up. "Finger."
You sighed, stretching out your finger. He held it and quickly unlocked your cell phone. You closed your eyes completely mortified when you heard the moans and wet noises coming from the device. You couldn't stand to look at Stephen, no matter what expressions were on his face.
Stephen let out a low whistle "You are dirty."
You allowed yourself to open one eye to peek at what he was doing. He was scrolling through your online history. "I think we have a masturbation kink here, sweetheart. When were you going to tell me about it?"
You sighed, reaching out your hand "If you're done, I want my phone back."
He smirked handing it back to you.
"I'll understand if you're mad at me." You said, turning off your phone screen and sitting crisscrossed on the bed. "But I swear I don't do that all the time. I'm not addicted to porn or anything like that." You explained yourself, looking at your hands.
Stephen held your hand. "Look at me. Not for a moment did I think you were. And I don't mind if you watch porn every now and then. It's normal, sweetheart, we all do it from time to time."
You looked at him curiously. "You do?"
He smirked. "Sometimes. Would you like to know what I usually see?"
You felt your cheeks getting hot again, but you nodded.
"Blowjobs. Most of the time the ones that end in deep throat. You know I love it because I already told you that."
You nodded biting the inside of your cheek. "The videos... you just watch them or... you imagine yourself participating."
Stephen smirked, probably realizing you were jealous. "I imagine it's you doing those things to me."
You felt your stomach getting pleasantly weird at that revelation.
"May I ask what you were thinking just now when you were watching that video?" He asked.
You found yourself playing with his fingers between your hands, squeezing them and rolling them between your fingers.
"It's always you." You muttered. "I always imagine it's you doing that... for me."
Stephen shifted in bed as if his pants had suddenly become uncomfortable. "Is that what you want? See me jerk off?"
You nodded shyly.
He reached down between your legs and pulled your shorts and panties to the side, dipping his finger in your folds and sighing heavily. "You're so fucking wet..."
You moved your hips subtly against his finger, which made him groan and pull you to his lips, capturing your lips in a devastating kiss. He sank two fingers inside you and began to slowly finger you, eliciting a moan from your lips.
"Stephen...need you." You confessed on his lips.
He smirked pulling away, with a quick movement of his fingers he closed and locked the bedroom door. He stood up next to the bed and began to undress. First the boots, then the top of his robes. He unbuckled his belt and ran his thumbs over the waistband of his pants, slowly lowering them and kicking them into a pile on the floor.
Your eyes were fixed on the outline of his cock inside his white boxer briefs. He was so big. Stephen didn't miss anything to the actors in those videos you watched. In fact, he was bigger than most of them.
He finally pulled down his underwear and kicked them into the pile. His cock was fully erect, curved deliciously towards his abdomen. That was, you thought, the most erotic vision you could conjure in your mind and yet nothing you had imagined resembled reality. Your mouth was open in a big O.
"Want to see me pumping my cock for you? You'll have to say, sweetheart."
You swallowed thickly watching him hold his cock by the base pointing it at you provocatively. He ran a finger along the slit collecting a drop of precum.
"You are so beautiful." That was all you could think of saying.
He smirked proudly, "Yeah? Is that why you want to see me jerk off? Come on, take those clothes off, let me see you too."
You obeyed, taking off your blouse and unclasping your bra. You knelt on the bed to pull down your shorts and panties and sat back kicking them to the floor.
"Beautiful." He praised. He went to the bedside table and opened one of the drawers, taking out a bottle of lube and pouring some of the liquid into one of his hands and taking it to his cock, spreading it all over his length and making a delicious wet noise in the process. That noise, you loved that noise.
You bit your bottom lip feeling how your clit was swollen, pulsing and demanding for attention.
"Make yourself comfortable, sweetheart. I'll sit here..." He said, sitting down in one of the two armchairs next to the fireplace. "And you're going to keep your eyes fixed on me. Okay? Isn't that what you wanted?"
You nodded watching him circle his fingers around the tip and finally start to stroke his cock up and down with more force. He let out a moan and closed his eyes for a second letting himself be carried away by the moment, but then he opened them staring at you and as if that wasn't enough he smiled the most beautiful and charming smile.
You still couldn't believe that this was really happening. Maybe you had falling asleep after cumming and were actually dreaming. It was the only possible explanation, but it was still not consistent. None of your dreams were so vivid and real.
You watched as he slowly slid his hand up and down, with the other hand he massaged his balls and without giving much thought to it, your hand slid between your legs, but as soon as you noticed what you were doing, you took it out of there feeling the heat rising to your face again.
"It's okay, you can touch yourself while you watch. Pick up where you left off, sweetheart."
You chewed on your lip feeling a little insecure, but you did as he said and slid your fingers between your folds feeling the pleasure run through your body like an electric current. You let out a low moan and Stephen nodded encouraging you to continue. You stuck two fingers inside and started fucking yourself on them at a steady pace, your eyes glued to Stephen.
You could say that you had seen a fair amount of cocks in your life, both in real life and on videos, but none were as beautiful as Stephen's. In fact, you never really thought the male member was beautiful until you held Stephen's in your hands and it wasn't just because it was his. Stephen's cock was big, much bigger than the average size, it was thick too and had a perfect curvature that pointed towards his abdomen, the head was fat and pink and there were veins around the entire length that were as beautiful and attractive as the veins in his arms and hands.
Stephen moaned, increasing his pace, his eyes on you all the time, to the way your fingers were going in and out your pussy, which at that point was dripping wet, making an squelching noise.
"Fuck sweetheart, you drive me crazy, you know that? Just imagining all the times you touched yourself thinking about this..." His voice was cut off by another loud moan.
He held his cock by the base proudly. "See how it's pulsing. I want to be inside you so badly." He let out another moan.
You loved the sounds Stephen made when he was making love, his baritone voice seemed made exactly for those sounds. That added to the sounds his hand made while pumping his cock was so devilishly arousing that you could feel yourself being pushed quickly over the edge.
Stephen could clearly see that happening. The rise and fall of your chest quickening with your hard breathing.
 "You're loving this, aren't you, my love?"
You nodded vehemently and totally unable to contain your moans, you moaned louder increasing the rhythm of your fingers searching for your sweet release.
"Slow down, sweetheart. You don't want to cum before me, do you?" There was a certain pride in his voice that was extremely arousing. He was loving it, as much or even more than you, yet you wondered how he managed to keep his voice steady when he was clearly as close as you were.
You moaned softly feeling your body practically there and this time you didn't have enough strength to stop.
"I don't want to stop now, Steph. I want to cum."
Stephen smirked "Yeah? Then cum for me, love. Show me how much you're enjoying watching me jerk off."
He kept his pace fast and intense and you let yourself be carried away by the feeling that grew inside your stomach. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and you wanted more than just your fingers to satisfy you, but you knew they would be enough when you had that sight in front of you as stimulation.
You bit your bottom lip to hold back a loud moan at which Stephen tsked.
"Don't hold back, you can be loud. I love hearing you, sweetheart."
You moaned outrageously loud, giving in to your orgasm and your entire body began to shake, you closed your eyes, your mouth went agape.
"That's right. Beautiful. You did it so perfectly for me." Stephen praised.
When you opened your eyes your cheeks were hot and you could feel all the courage draining away, but Stephen wasn't ready to let go of the moment you shared, not yet.
He smiled devilishly at you holding his cock by the base. It was red and pulsing, the veins dilated by the flow of blood showing just how close he was to his own release.
"Come here, I want you to come closer."
You forced your legs to obey you, which was not an easy task, and stood up, walking slowly to the armchair. He reached out a hand to you and you took it.
"Get on your knees for me." He instructed.
You did as he asked and were ready to take him in your hands when he gently pulled them away.
"You're just going to watch, sweetheart. I'm going to do all the work exactly how you always wanted to see."
You nibbled on your bottom lip nodding and watched as he resumed stroking his cock up and down slowly and then increased the pace again. One hand firmly on the base, the other pumping quickly.
"Tell me, is this how you always imagined it?"
You nodded unable to say anything. He moaned surrendering to the pleasure.
"You're so fucking dirty... and I love you for that, you know? I've never had a woman make me so crazy about her."
You let out a low involuntary moan in response which made him smirk.
"Tell me what you want, sweetheart."
You allowed yourself to look away from his cock to look into his eyes quickly.
“I want you to cum for me.”
He started to move his hips involuntarily against his fist and you knew he was close.
"Do you want to take it in your mouth?" He asked breathlessly.
You knew that was what he wanted, but you shook your head.
"No? I know. You want to see it happening, don't you?"
You bit your lip hard and nodded. You loved when Stephen talked to you like that. His baritone voice whispered to you in that sexy way of when he was close to his climax.
Stephen managed to chuckle between his moans that were quickly escalating to groans and grunts.
"So don't take your eyes off me... I'm so fucking close."
You smiled victoriously, determined to push him to get there.
"Come for me, Stephen. I want to see you cum... all over your stomach." You gave him your best baby girl look.
And so he did. Stephen let out an almost animalistic groan and began to cum. Ropes of his thick and white cum spurted from his cock head onto his abdomen, splashing down his stomach and making a delicious mess just like you always imagined.
The sight made your mouth water. It was no secret to you that you had a certain fascination with cum, unlike many women, you weren't disgusted by it, you loved the smell and especially the taste of it on your tongue and that's why you grabbed his cock and sucked the tip to collect the last drops of cum that dripped from his slit.
Stephen moaned in surprise, but leaned both arms on the armchair and lolled his head back, surrendering to the delicious afterglow with a heavy sigh.
The taste of his cum on your tongue made you want more of it, so you dedicated yourself to cleaning up the whole mess with your tongue. Licking his abdomen and stomach and sucking up the small puddles of cum, scooping some with your fingers and sucking on them, enjoying it as if you were tasting the best of desserts.
"Oh fuck, sweetheart... this is so fucking hot!"
You chuckled, finishing your work and placing a kiss on the tip of his cock and allowing yourself to look at him.
"Your cum taste so good." You confessed.
He chuckled moaning as you stroked him lightly. You didn't expect him to get hard so quickly again, but you could feel him growing in your hand.
He held your face firmly between both of his hands and leaned in to kiss you quickly. "Look what you do to me! Why don't you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth now, uh?"
You nodded obediently opening your mouth for him. He grabbed his cock, gave it a couple of jerks and stuck it in your mouth, pressing it against the wall of your cheek, teasing you.
"This warm little mouth is so delicious, love, but I want your throat. Tell me I can fuck your throat."
He took his cock out of your mouth to let you respond.
"Yes. You know I like it too."
He smirked "Yeah? You're such a dirty little girl. Like to see me jerk off, Like to get your throat fucked. What did I do to deserve you?"
You bit your bottom lip. "You are the great Doctor Strange. Any woman in the world would want to have her throat fucked by your cock, Stephen."
"Yeah?" He caressed your face, holding his cock by the base and you opened your mouth obediently without him even having to ask. He shoved his cock down your throat groaning loud.
"But there's only one woman I want and that's you, sweetheart. Only you."
You felt your heart swelling with those words, but you focused on relaxing your throat and letting him fuck it at his pace, fast and hard as he always did.
He didn't last long, he never lasted long when he fucked your throat, it was his weak point. He held your head in place and continued thrusting up until he was out of breath and emptied himself down your throat.
"Oh shit... so. fucking. good." He finished punctuating his words with three last thrusts and then let go of your head and allowed you to take him out of your mouth.
He caressed your cheek gently and smiled the sweetest, most beautiful smile in the world. "And to think I only went back to the Sanctum to get a relic that Wong asked for."
You giggled getting up and sitting on his lap. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to his lips and kissed you softly.
"Promise me you'll tell me whenever there's anything you want to do in bed or in any other circumstances. You know you can talk to me. About anything."
You nodded "I promise."
He pinched your cheek teasingly and then sighed. "I need to go now. Wong is probably wondering why I'm taking so long. He'll end up coming after me. You know what he's like."
You nodded, holding his face in your hands. "I love you."
You kissed him again.
"I love you too, Sweetheart. More than anything."
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325 notes · View notes
pure-oddity · 6 months
Text
Gifts and Well Wishes
Content: very fluffy!! brief hint at nsfw, so MDNI(this is an 18+ blog anyway yall shouldn't be here regardless), Simon's Pov
He feels a weight settle on his chest and awareness hits him quickly. He keeps his breathing level while he listens to the weight mutter under her breath , something about him being built like a slab of concrete. He slits his eyes open to see her sat on his chest, a brownie in hand - little waxy candle in the middle.
Almost laughs as he watches her struggle to light the damn thing. Snorts when she swears at it. Her eyes flick up and she grins at him, "don't fuckin laugh at me! This thing won't light!"
Watches like a lazy cat as she flicks the lighter on over and over, moves a hand to take over when she finally gets it. She's humming a tune at him as he caresses the soft skin of her leg. He realizes it's happy birthday.
"Okay big guy, blow this thing out and make a wish - preferably before I drop it and burn down our home." And the candle lit brownie is lowered towards his face.
He pinches his tongue between his thumb and pointer finger, and snuffs the light out between spit slick fingers.
"You-! Ah whatever, I'm sure whoevers in charge of granting birthday wishes won't mind that you didn't blow it out." She waves a hand passively and removes the still smoking candle.
"Thought we celebrated already?" He watches as she places it in her cup of water on her side of the bed. Makes a mental note to replace it for her.
"Nope! Yoooouu said you didn't want a party or a surprise, so we didn't have one." She reminded.
"Hung out with the boys at the pub." He countered.
"That was just something fun to do, not a party. If it were a party we would have had cake and they woulda brought you gifts - maybe asked the staff to sing!" She insisted, tone musing as if she could picture it.
"Thank fuck that wasn't a party then." He snorts. He can imagine it too. The idea ends with himself getting up and walking out mid song.
"And because it's just me and I got you a brownie instead of cake - it's still not a party" she's clearly anticipated his responses. If it were anyone else he'd be more agitated at feeling predictable.
Her leg shits, subtlety for her, not so much for him. He sees a shape now partially hidden behind the same leg.
"Love." Making his dissaproval known with a single word is a skill he's honed.
"Shhhhhhh! Just eat your brownie, I made it myself!" She's undeterred by his dissaproval.
"Told you I didn't need anything" he grumbles, in hindsight he should have seen this coming.
"Less talking more eating!" She shoves the treat closer and with a deep exhale he sits up, one hand on the brownie the other to help stabilize her as she's sent off his chest into his lap.
It's a good mix of bitter and sweet, slightly more bitter. Still warm and gooey in the way he likes. Made with his preferences in mind he chews with an appreciative hum, places a peck on her forhead - "get chocolate on my face and ill bite your boob!"
His chest shakes in mirth as he spares a glance to make sure he hadn't gotten chocolate on her - knows she'll follow through on her threat, he's got the marks to prove it.
He eyes the shape - present- warily, as though it might bite them.
"Oh stop! You're gonna love it, just two things and they're small." She sounds hopeful, and excited. He supposes even if it were dog shit in a box he'd atleast TRY to sound happy, or at the very least sound not as angry as he could be to recieve dog shit.
He swallows the last bite of brownie, she plucks a crumb from his face and licks it off her finger. He contemplates asking for another kind of present for his birthday.
She seems to know where his mind has wandered and gives him an impish grin and a swat to his chest
"Down boy! We'll get to that later- open this first!"
She leans in his lap towards the gift and plucks it up with egar hands, practically shoving it into his own. Her fingers slide against his own rough and calloused palms and he shudders out a sigh. Her hands so much smaller but no less sure of what they're doing.
He takes a pause to settle his nerves, and pulls on the string holding the wrapping together. He's careful as he plucks open the paper, going slower at her insistence that 'you don't need to save the paper, just rip it!'.
Paper and ribbon no longer keeping the box closed he pops the lid open. Inside he finds what he recognizes as a sheathed knife, and a - bracelet?
He moves to pick it up but he's guided towards the knife."That one needs an explanation, focus on the knife first" she speaks softly, a hint of nerves.
Ever the dutiful soldier he follows her command. Grabbing the blade and carefully removing it from its case. It's got a good weight, balanced. It glistens in the lamplight. He recognizes the brand immediately
"how'd you get your hands on this? They only deal with custom shit - and only if you can prove you're armed services. Which you, love - unless you have something to tell me - are not" he says it like it's a joke. He hopes his eyes convey how deathly serious he is.
The idea of it - her in the field hurt or worse, lost and -
"I'm not in the military no. Buuutt your captain is!"
Ah, that. That makes more sense. But-
"He gave me his number the night you introduced us, in case I ever needed him or you"
Ah, so the old mans sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. He gives her an unimpressed look before sighing "alright fine. 'S a good gift. Thank you love, I'll keep it close."
"You're welcome! Now the other one."
She reaches for it before he's even set the blade on the bedside table. It is indeed a bracelet, it's something woven. Three strands, black, gold and blue.
She prods at his hands and taps each wrist, he gives her his preferred hand as she ties it on.
"So it's. It's uh. Hm. So okay, I was thinking about jewelry recently and I ended up remembering a conversation with my nana - you haven't met- but it was something like uh. " He watches her flounder, and if he wasn't already giving her his undivided attention his is now.
"Jewelry can be kind of a shield between the wearer and bad things. That if a piece of your jewelry breaks it means that it stopped something bad from happening to you. Like it sucked up all the bad and broke itself so you wouldn't break."
She's finished tying it, and now runs her hand along the lines in his palm. There's a sadness in her eyes now. He despises it, especially because this is likely something he can't just kill.
"And we'll. I cant...I can't protect you when you leave. I'm, I'd be no good at what you do. And sometimes that really bothers me. But I can do this. I can make this so that - so that even if I can't protect you, this can."
She rolls her eyes, and he sees that they're shiny now.
"And yes, I KNOW this little thing can't stop a bullet or whatever and it's not exactly jewelry like my nana was saying but. You know, I feel like it counts. And I made it. I...I kinda wished on it? Sorta. I just - thought every good thought I could and poured all my hopes that you come home safe and that you know I lo- well you know. " she flaps her hands dismissively and his free hand cups her warm cheek. She leans into it instinctively but her eyes brighten a smidge.
"And I know its silly but...can't hurt? And, and! It has your two favorite colors , black and blue"
"And the gold?" He encourages. Has a feeling his assumption is correct.
She meets his eyes, she knows he knows the answer - he just wants to hear it from her.
"....it's me. You say I light up your life and well , golds like sunlight so...... it was either that or piss yellow."
He barks out a laugh "gold. Gold's fine..." a comment rests on his tongue. The one where he tells her that he isn't superstitious and that he doesn't believe in things like luck. But he remembers that neither does she and instead trails off.
She can't control what happens out there or what he does. She understands it, she struggles with it. It's the fear, loving a man made for war is hard. She won't leave him, won't let herself be chased off. Willingly haunted by a man mostly dead. But he knows she's scared.
So if wearing her little trinket will sooth her soul, even a little, even if it doesn't make logical sense. He'll wear it.
"Thank you love. I'll keep it with me yeah? I'll be bullet proof."
"Okay - now you're making fun of me!...you don't HAVE to-"
"Might have to ask you to make some for the boys..specially Johnny. Fucker keeps adding holes faster than the medics can patch em up."
She pauses and a teeny grin lights up her face. That's better he thinks.
"Yeah! I have some yarn left over fro-"
"Fuck no. These are my colors, give him piss yellow."
She laughs loud, he'd worry about bothering his neighbors if he gave a fuck. But the woman in his lap makes it hard to be worried about much else besides keeping her laughing.
------------
"New gear Lt.?"
He flicks his gaze towards Johnny at the question, and he almost tells him no - he doesn't have any new gear. Until he remembers.
He took it out subconsciously, her knife. Just to keep his hands idle on the flight over to the middle of danger again. He also spies the tricolor cord peeking out from under his sleeve, knows the Scotsman has seen both.
"Something like that yea."
"Hmmmm wager a guess its from the missus?"
He stares at Johnny and the man snorts.
"Sorry yea, shouldn't have asked when I know the answer - ain't that right cap?"
Ghost eyes the captain next to him, catching his whiskerd grin tells him all he needs to know. Meddling old man.
"Never took you for a jewelery kinda guy Lt. ,not gonna lie" it's Gaz this time, he looks at the braclet with warmth in his eyes - a pinch of longing. A good lad Gaz, if he doesn't already have someone to come home to - he'll find them easy enough.
"Man of mutitudes Sgt. What can i say?"
The knife is returned to its proper place and his sleeve is adjusted to hide the woven band from any more eyes as the helicopter makes its descent.
And when there's a moment of peace after the fighting, he checks to make sure both are still there - keeping him safe.
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chicgeekgirl89 · 2 months
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Rating: T Characters: Carlos Reyes and T.K. Strand Summary: In the early days of their budding relationship, T.K. and Carlos discover some of each other's more adorable characteristics. Or, five times T.K. learns adorable things about Carlos and one time Carlos learns something adorable about T.K. A/N: Thanks to @bluenet13 for the title help on this one. It's been on the back burner for a while and it was time for it to fly free. Also working on a reverse 5+1 companion for it, so keep your eyes open for that...someday... Tagging: This is more than seven sentences, but please accept it anyway. Thanks to @strandnreyes, @bonheur-cafe, @carlos-in-glasses, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @ladytessa74, and @lemonlyman-dotcom. Tagging @liminalmemories21, @welcometololaland, @carlos-tk, @louis-ii-reyes-strand, @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad, and anyone else who would like to share your Seven Sentence Sunday! Read on AO3
Glasses
T.K. is brushing his teeth in Carlos’ bathroom. Usually his daily oral hygiene wouldn’t be a notable event, but today it feels monumental. Because it’s Carlos’ bathroom. And T.K. is brushing his teeth. Because he’s staying over. Because they’re together. Like really together. Officially. 
He smiles goofily at his reflection in the mirror, his mouth still full of white paste and toothbrush. He’s happy. Really, truly, deeply happy.
He opens up Carlos’ medicine cabinet one handed as he continues brushing away and realizes that while he remembered to bring a razor he did not remember to bring shaving cream. “Hey babe,” he calls around his mouthful as he turns around and pokes his head back into the bedroom, “can I borrow—“
His eyes find Carlos on the bed and he immediately chokes on his toothpaste and has to rush back to the sink to spit it out. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before turning and marching back through the open doorway. 
Carlos looks at him, amusement on his face. “You okay over there?”
“Since when do you wear glasses?”
Because he is. Carlos is sitting in his bed, shirtless, hair soft and wildly curly after his shower, a paperback in his hands, and a pair of glasses on his face. Glasses that T.K. has definitely never seen before in his life. Glasses that are kind of knocking the wind out of him.
“Since the fourth grade?” Carlos says. 
“But I’ve never…you’ve never worn them when I’ve been here.”
“I haven’t?” Carlos scrunches up his nose in thought and it makes him even more freaking adorable. “Are you sure?”
“I think I would remember my boyfriend morphing into Clark fucking Kent,” T.K. retorts.
Carlos chuckles. “I only wear them at night when my contacts start bothering me.”
“You should wear them more often.” The words are out of T.K.’s mouth before he even realizes it. He feels wildly out of control of himself right now and who could blame him? His already incredibly fucking hot boyfriend now looks like an incredibly fucking hot librarian and it is making T.K. think some very, VERY dirty thoughts.
Carlos raises his eyebrows. “Why?” A slow, lazy, self-satisfied smile spreads across his  face. “You think they’re sexy?”
“God yes.”
T.K. is across the room in two seconds flat, scrambling onto the bed and pulling Carlos’ face to his for a bruising kiss. Carlos immediately drops his book and responds in kind, mouth open and inviting as his hands grip T.K.’s hips and pull him close. “You called me your boyfriend,” he says when they finally break apart for air.
“I did,” T.K. says, diving back in for another taste of Carlos in glasses. It’s completely different than regular Carlos. It’s nerdy. And hot. He loves it.
“You’ve never called me your boyfriend before,” Carlos says breathlessly, grinning so wide it’s like the sun has come out. “I like it.”
T.K. grins back at him. “Me too.”
Socks
“Oh my god,” Carlos says as T.K. collapses onto his chest and presses kisses into his sweat sticky skin. “How does it just keep getting better?”
“Because we’re amazing,” T.K. mumbles against his pecs, his eyes already heavy with sleep. “So. Freaking. Amazing.”
He takes a few breaths and feels his body relaxing as sleep pulls him down. He snuggles deeper into Carlos’ chest, eyes drifting shut. He’s nearly out when he feels Carlos shift beneath him.
“Where are you going?” he asks, tightening his hold on Carlos’ torso to keep him from moving.
“I’ll be right back. I just need to put some socks on,” Carlos says, pressing a kiss to his hair. 
T.K.’s eyes pop back open and he props himself up to look at Carlos’ face. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I’m going to put some socks on,” Carlos repeats.
Things still aren’t computing in T.K.’s brain. “…why?” he finally asks slowly.
“Because if we’re going to sleep I need to wear socks.”
He was looking for clarity, but now he’s even more confused. “I don’t understand.”
“What is there to understand? I’m putting socks on to go to bed,” Carlos says, looking equally as confused.
“But…why?”
“Because otherwise I might catch a cold,” Carlos says with a laugh, gently pushing T.K. off so he can get to his feet.
T.K. blinks a couple times trying to get his bearings and then rolls over, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around his waist. “That is not how colds work. Like not even close.”
Carlos returns and sits on the bed to pull his socks on. “I know that,” he says.
“And yet you’re still putting the socks on,” T.K. says.
“My mom always made us wear socks to bed when we were kids.”
“Is she coming over?” T.K. asks incredulously.
“No.”
“Then why are you wearing them?!”
“Because she always made us!”
T.K. takes a breath. “Let me get this straight. You are going to get into this bed with me, fully naked, except for socks that you’re going to wear because your mom made you do it when you were seven?”
Carlos pauses. “Well when you say it like that it sounds stupid.”
“Your words, not mine.”
“I just like it okay? I’ve done it forever. I can’t sleep without them,” Carlos says defensively as he slides back into bed beside T.K. “Is this some kind of a dealbreaker for you?”
“Nope,” T.K. says. “Just trying to understand. If wearing socks to bed is what does it for you, then by all means wear the socks.”
“Thank you,” Carlos says, giving him a peck on the lips and turning out the light before pulling T.K. close and snuggling in to go to sleep.
T.K. gets comfortable and closes his eyes, but he can’t stop the thoughts running through his mind in the dark and quiet of the room. He sits up and turns the light back on. “I really need you to tell me that you understand that you can’t catch a cold from not wearing socks though.”
Romance
T.K. loves being in Carlos’ condo without him. He likes it better when Carlos is around obviously. But he feels so special that Carlos has given him a key and invited him to share his space. It means he trusts T.K. enough to let him be here alone where it’s peaceful and calm, unlike his dad’s house which somehow feels crowded even though there are only two of them there most of the time.
Carlos’ place feels more like home than anywhere else has in a long time.
He takes his shoes off when he arrives and dutifully puts them away, then grabs a mineral water and a yogurt out of the fridge before collapsing onto Carlos’ couch. “Ouch,” he says with a frown as something pokes into his back from behind the throw pillow.
He reaches behind him and pulls out a book. It’s not unusual to find books around the condo, Carlos is a big reader, but the brightly colored cover on this one makes T.K. pause and raise his eyebrows. The Spanish Love Deception is the title and when he flips it over to read the back he learns that Catalina Martín is in desperate need of a date for her sister’s wedding and her mortal enemy at work seems to be her only option.
He’s rifling through the pages when the door opens and Carlos walks in. “Hey,” he says, smiling as his eyes meet T.K.’s. “When did you get in?”
“Like fifteen minutes ago,” T.K. tells him as Carlos slips off his shoes and then comes over to press a kiss to his lips. “I found this behind the throw pillow.”
He holds up the romance novel and Carlos takes it from him. “Francesca must have left it here,” he says, referring to his sister. “Looks like her kind of book. I’ll text her and let her know you found it it.”
T.K. doesn’t think about it again for a couple of weeks until one night when his dad cancels their dinner plans and he spontaneously heads to Carlos’ instead. “Hey, it’s me!” he calls as he pushes the door open.
“T.K.?” Carlos appears at the top of the stairs, one hand behind his back, looking a little frazzled. “I thought you were going to dinner with your dad.”
“He bailed,” T.K. says, adjusting his overnight bag on his shoulder as he takes the stairs two at a time, giving Carlos a peck on his lips when he reaches him. “You okay?” he asks, taking in the weird expression on his boyfriend’s face.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Carlos says, even as a minor amount of panic is flickering through his eyes. “I just didn’t know you were coming.”
T.K. looks him up and down. “Do you have some other guy in your bedroom?”
“What?! No!” Carlos says quickly.
“Were you watching porn?”
“Of course not!” Carlos says, but there’s a deep blush rising up in his cheeks. 
“What’s behind your back?” T.K. reaches for him, but Carlos steps away out of his reach.
“It’s nothing,” he says.
T.K. raises his eyebrows in amusement. “You know you are so freaking bad at lying, right?”
“Can we just drop it?” Carlos asks, desperation creeping into his voice.
T.K. takes a step forward so that Carlos is forced to back into the wall and then reaches around him and plucks the hidden object from his fingers. It’s another book, the cover bright blue with the title The American Roommate Experiment on the front. T.K. recognizes the name of the author as the same one from the book he found behind the couch cushions and his eyebrows rise. “Oh. You were reading porn.”
“It’s not porn,” Carlos says. “It’s a book.”
“Are you telling me there’s no sex in this book?”
“I…don’t know yet,” Carlos says, dropping his eyes. “I haven’t gotten that far.”
Delight is spiraling through T.K. as he fully realizes what’s going on. “That was your book a couple weeks ago. Not your sister’s.” He can feel his eyes start to sparkle with mischief. “You like smutty romance novels.”
“I don’t like them because they’re smutty,” Carlos says quickly. “I like them because…I like them.”
“You like them because you’re a big old softy romantic,” T.K. says, poking him gently in the chest. “Do you watch Hallmark Christmas movies too?”
The silence that follows tells him all he needs to know. “You do,” T.K. says happily. He could not be more thrilled about this new discovery.
“I grew up with four sisters,” Carlos defends himself.
“Please tell me you read Fifty Shades.”
“I would never,” Carlos scoffs. “Those books are not an accurate depiction of the BDSM community.”
“Oh my god you’re adorable,” T.K. tells him. 
“No, I’m, no don’t call me that,” Carlos says, clearly embarrassed.
“You are,” T.K. tells him, wrapping his arms around Carlos’ waist. “You are the most adorable boyfriend the world has ever seen.”
“Are you going to let this go, or is this something you’re going to talk about forever?” Carlos asks.
“Mmm definitely the second thing,” T.K. says as Carlos sighs with long suffering. “Now how about you take me to your bedroom and teach me some of the things you’ve learned from these books?”
Scaredy Cat
Sharing new things with each other has become a complete delight for T.K. So when he finds out that Carlos has never seen a single one of the Halloween movies, he declares the need for a marathon during the month of October and immediately goes over to his dad’s to dig out his DVD’s. No way is he dealing with ads breaking up the masterpiece that is Michael Myers. 
He’s popped popcorn, pulled out all the throw blankets, and even gone so far as to make up a bloody looking mocktail to really get them in the spirit of the movies. Now he’s just eagerly awaiting Carlos who has gone out to fetch their pizza.
He’s pulling down plates from the cupboard (Carlos refuses to eat pizza straight out of the box like they’re “college frat bros”) when the door opens and his boyfriend returns, pizza in hand. 
“Perfect timing!” T.K. says, eagerly taking the box from him and handing him the gory looking cocktail in return. 
“Oh, wow,” Carlos says. “This is…something.”
“I found a recipe online,” T.K. tells him excitedly as he dishes out pizza slices onto plates. “I thought they would be fun!”
“So creative,” Carlos says, poking at the gummy eyeballs that T.K. ordered online and added for extra pizzazz.
“Okay,” T.K. says as they settle onto the couch, his excitement at an eleven. “So, John Carpenter and Debra Hill wrote this in like ten days, which is crazy, and Carpenter got paid ten thousand dollars to write, direct, and score it. They built a cinematic masterpiece, the go-to film for horror, and they did it in ten days for ten thousand dollars. Can you even believe that?”
“Sure can’t,” Carlos says with a shake of his head. 
“We’re starting with the original Halloween,” T.K. tells him as he flicks on the television. “1963, Michael Myers versus a bunch of teenage girls. We’ll skip a few in the middle, Halloween: Resurrection isn’t worth anybody’s time, and while Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers does feature a young, fresh faced Paul Rudd, it has too many flaws to be worth watching.”
“So we’re skipping two out of…”
“Thirteen,” T.K. tells him.
“I guess I should have taken the month off of work,” Carlos tells him, sending him an odd, tense sort of smile.
Come to think of it, Carlos’ whole body feels a little tense too. If T.K. didn’t know any better, he’d think Carlos was nervous. But he chalks it up to worry over getting pizza grease on the couch and hits play as he snuggles into his boyfriend’s side.
They’re still snuggled together as Michael takes a knife to his teenage sister and T.K. doesn’t miss the way Carlos stiffens even further over the bloody scene. Or the way he seems to get more and more tense as the movie progresses. “You want another drink?” T.K. asks after Michael murders the Wallace’s dog.
Carlos shakes his head, his lips pressed together in a firm line, eyes a little wider than normal as he stares at the screen. He gasps audibly when Michael appears in Annie’s car and when T.K. looks down he finds that Carlos is gripping the edge of the couch cushions so hard that his knuckles are going white. 
By the time Michael starts going after Laurie, Carlos’ breathing has gone rapid and T.K. carefully slips his fingers under the edge of his sleeve to find his pulse racing. Not a surprise given the contents of the movie, but Carlos’ face has gone almost white and and he’s sitting so rigidly T.K. is afraid all of his muscles are going to lock up. 
“Carlos,” he says quietly, but Carlos doesn’t respond, eyes glued to the screen, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard.
“Carlos, are you okay?” T.K. asks again, reaching for the remote.
He’s too late. Michael appears out of nowhere and Carlos jumps to his feet with a shout, hands going to his hips as he paces a couple agitated steps back and forth. 
T.K. finally gets his finger on the button to pause the movie. “Carlos, hey, look at me,” T.K. says, feeling legitimately concerned.
“No I—it’s fine. I’m fine,” Carlos says, hand making chopping motions as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as T.K. “Go ahead, turn it back on. I’ll just um, I’m just going to—“
“You’re shaking like a leaf,” T.K. says.
“No I’m—it’s good,” Carlos says even as a car honks outside and he flinches violently.
“It’s not fine,” T.K. says. “You hate it. Let’s watch something else.”
“We can finish—“
“Carlos, you look like you think Michael is coming after you personally. We’re not watching anymore,” T.K. says with a chuckle, using the remote to flip over to live TV, Bobby Flay declaring loudly that he will not be beaten at his own culinary game this time.
“Thank you,” Carlos sighs, collapsing back into the couch.
“When were you going to tell me you hate horror movies?” T.K. asks.
“Never,” Carlos says, running a hand through his hair. “You were so excited and I thought maybe it would be okay.”
“But?”
“I begged my parents to let me watch It with my sisters when I was ten. I didn’t sleep for like a month after that and ever since…” he shivers, “I just don’t get why people like them.”
“It’s pretty cute you know,” T.K. says with a fond smile. “My big tough police officer being scared of horror movies.”
“Cute or pathetic?” Carlos says with a roll of his eyes, finally starting to look like himself again now that it’s vegetables being chopped up instead of people.
“Cute,” T.K. tells him definitively, pulling him close. “Now come here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”
Paparazzi
The radio is blaring when T.K. walks in from his shift, so loud that for a second he thinks he’s walked into the wrong condo. A quick glance around reveals that no, this is indeed Carlos’ place, although there’s no sign of Carlos anywhere, and it takes him another moment to realize the music is actually coming from upstairs.
He climbs the staircase, the music getting louder with each step and by the time he’s reached the top it’s changed from something in Spanish to Lady Gaga and is blasting so loudly that it feels like he’s at a live performance rather than in his boyfriend’s bedroom.
That’s when he finally hears the singing. Not Gaga herself, although she’s hard to ignore. No. Someone is belting out the lyrics from behind the bathroom door, slightly out of tune, but with the most passion T.K. has ever heard.
He opens the door quietly, the sound intensifying as the spray of the shower joins the fray. 
“I’M YOUR BIGGEST FAN, I’LL FOLLOW YOU UNTIL YOU LOVE ME! PAPA-PAPARAZZI!” Carlos bellows from behind the semi-frosted glass of the shower door.
T.K. crosses his arms and leans against the wall, a grin on his face as he watches the blurry silhouette of his naked boyfriend scrubbing away at his hair while he sings along. He makes it through the rest of the chorus and another verse before he turns around and lets out a yell. “Jesus Christ!”
The water turns off immediately followed quickly by the music as T.K. laughs. Carlos opens the shower door, poking his sopping wet head out. “What the hell? How long have you been standing there?” he says, clearly torn between fury and embarrassment.
“Long enough,” T.K. says, handing him a towel before returning to his position against the wall, watching appreciatively as Carlos pulls it around his waist and steps out, water glistening on his skin.
“You realize that’s really fucking creepy, right?” Carlos asks as he double checks that his towel is secure.
“I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the concert,” T.K. says fully aware that he is smirking and enjoying every second of watching Carlos squirm.
“Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that,” Carlos says, looking down at the floor, his cheeks flushed from more than the heat of his shower.
“Do you always sing in the shower?”
“No.” But he doesn’t meet T.K.’s gaze when he says it.
“Yes,” T.K. says gleefully. “Why don’t you ever sing when I’m here?”
“Because some things are better left in private,” Carlos tells him with a glower.
“Babe, come on,” T.K. says, taking a step forward and putting his hands on Carlos’ hips just above where the towel is sitting. “I love knowing stuff like this about you. It makes me feel like you’re mine. I get to see these little parts of Carlos Reyes that other people don’t.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Unless you also put on performances in the precinct showers.”
“Definitely not,” Carlos scoffs. His hands come up to rest on T.K.’s biceps. “You really don’t think it’s weird? I know I’m not a good singer.”
T.K. kisses the tip of his nose. “It doesn’t matter. It makes you happy. And that’s all I care about.”
+ 1: Ticklish
Waking up with T.K. had been his dream for months, but he wasn’t completely surprised when it turned out not to be a reality. It turns out T.K. doesn’t wake up with anyone. In fact he barely wakes up at all. He has to be dragged out of bed and plied with coffee and a shower before he’s even remotely functional. 
When questioned about how he can wake up and immediately go to work when the alarm bells go off at the fire station, T.K. looks at him like he’s crazy and says, “That’s different.”
So Carlos contents himself with waking up beside T.K., pressing a kiss to whatever part of him is poking out from under the blankets, and then greeting him more officially when he finally stumbles out of bed usually an hour or two after Carlos.
He’s just finished his workout when he hears T.K.’s alarm going off followed quickly by a muffled thud as T.K. predictably sends his phone flying to floor in his attempts to turn it off.
Carlos smiles and wipes a towel across his forehead before stowing away his weights and jogging back upstairs. T.K. is buried under the blankets, only the top of his head poking out. “Morning,” Carlos says softly, bending over to kiss his forehead.
T.K. reaches up and catches his arm, tugging him downward. “Come back to bed,” he mumbles. 
“I’m all sweaty,” Carlos says with a laugh. “I need to go take a shower.”
“No staaay,” T.K. groans, tugging more insistently.
Carlos rolls his eyes but he concedes, sitting down on the mattress and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal T.K.’s face. “Are you going to get up?”
“It’s our day off,” T.K. tells him, eyes still tightly shut.
“It is.” Carlos leans closer, a fond smile on his face. “And if you don’t get up soon it will be over.”
He pokes T.K. in the ribs good-naturedly and immediately receives a sharp backhand across the face. “Ow!” he yells, rearing back and clutching his nose. “T.K. what the fuck?!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” T.K. yelps, and Carlos can feel him scrambling to get upright in the tangle of their sheets. “Oh my god! Are you okay? Let me see!”
He reaches for Carlos’ face, but Carlos pulls back. His nose feels like it’s been smashed into a thousand pieces, but he rubs at it experimentally and it seems to be intact. Another check shows no blood on his fingers, so he’s probably all right, but damn. It hurts. “What the hell was that for?” he asks grouchily, sending T.K. a glare.
T.K. looks sheepishly down at the sheets. “Um, well, I might be just a little bit ticklish?”
Carlos blinks at him. “No you’re not.”
T.K.’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Yes I am?”
“T.K. we’ve been together for like four months. I would know if you were ticklish.” He knows T.K.’s body intimately. Where he can touch to make him moan, to make him gasp, to make him arch his back. If T.K. were ticklish, it would have been revealed long before now. 
“It’s just that one spot on the left side of my ribs,” T.K. tells him. “If your hands start to go there I just take them and move them somewhere else. You’ve never noticed?”
Huh. Carlos sits with that for a second replaying as many of their sexual encounters as he can remember. “I guess…I guess not. Why did you hit me though?” he asks with a frown.
“Ah.” T.K. blushes. “I always move your hands because I can get a little…violent when I get tickled. It’s kind of a panic response.”
“And instead of telling me this you just waited for me to discover it by accident and nearly broke my nose in the process?”
“I kind of forgot honestly. It’s just become a habit to move your hands,” T.K. tells him.
Carlos snorts out a laugh. “Oh my god.”
“Oh my god what?” T.K. asks warily.
“Oh my god…that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Carlos says, full on laughing now. 
T.K.’s face breaks into a smile and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “It is kind of dumb.”
Carlos leans forward and cups his chin, pulling him in for a real kiss. “You’re cute,” he says. “You and your ridiculous ticklish spot.”
“You’re cute too,” T.K. says, then wrinkles his nose. “But you kind of stink.”
“Oh I do?”
“Yeah you do.”
Carlos wraps his arms around T.K. while he yells in protest, holding him tightly as they fall onto the mattress together. It’s disgustingly adorable. And Carlos wouldn’t trade it for the world.  
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❄️To Run Afoul of Winter❄️
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(Not my Gif.)
Request by: @unstablereader
Title: To Run Afoul of Winter
Word Count: 12,000
Warnings: Casual violence, some language, seasonal depression, segmented flashbacks.
Summary: In your human life you had been born a cripple - a frail, feeble little thing barely clinging to life. It was a miracle you survived long enough to join your siblings in becoming the first vampires. Bouts of what your family called Frost-Sickness kept you bed ridden each winter and despite your twin brother's efforts to cheer you up, life just hardly seemed worth living. When you turned, your body grew stronger, but so did your mental affliction. This is your story. || Mikaelson Family x sibling!reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||
A/N: This was written in like two days of an absolute writing frenzy. I know the request would have preferred Klaus to be the reader's twin but I just couldn't figure that out in my brain. Sorry! I hope you like it anyway. Also, one more thing. This fic is the first official fic of Cassie's Christmas at the Compound 2022 which I'll be kicking off later today as I was too lazy to do it on Dec. 1st. Thanks for being here and supporting my writing. Happy reading!
❄️STORY BEGINS BELOW❄️
Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: December 21st, 998 A.D.
"Sister?" You recognized the speaker instantly - you always had and you always would. Just as one always recognizes their own reflection, you could never forget the voice of your other half. 
You didn't say anything in reply, offering a soft hum instead. You didn't feel much like talking.
"We're lighting the bonfires," He continued. "Come along now before you miss all the fun!"
That wasn't really what he'd said all those years ago. No, your native language had long since been lost to time, morphing into a variety of tongues since then. You and your siblings were likely the only ones in the world who still knew it in its pure form - not that you spoke it anymore. You hadn't spoken your native language in so long, not even with each other. There was something lonely about it and the lot of you were already so alone.
Especially you. After all, what did you have besides dreams to keep you company in your most quiet estate? But that was beside the point.
"Really?" You lifted your head from the pile of skins that made up your bed. "They're starting so soon?" 
Standing in the doorway, the boy’s dark eyes widened in alarm that quickly faded into concern. "Y/N…" He began cautiously. "What day do you think it is?"
You had thought about that. Of course, you should have known something so trivial yet so vital to your livelihood but keeping track of the days seemed like such an exhausting chore. Akin to many things lately.
"Is it not eleven days to winter?" You asked, tilting your head. Then again, the village was lighting bonfires… but no, you couldn't have been Frost Sick for seventeen days! That was absurd.
Your twin's lips pressed into a thin line - they did that when he was worried and that was how you knew it must have been serious. For Kol son of Mikael was so rarely a worried soul.
The boy shook his head. "Y/N, it's the first day of Year's End - of bonfire season…" His voice thinned, close to breaking. "The harvest is plentiful, the moon is waning, and Odin smiles upon us. Can you not abate the sickness but one evening? Will you not join us?" He entreated you. "Will you not join me?" And oh how your twin had cherished the season so. Always first to cast his wish into the flames, always the first to dance, always the first to smile and laugh like the boy he had been so long, long ago. 
You didn't want to disappoint him, but you felt so weak. The chill of the evening air pricked at your skin and bones, threatening to sink into your very soul. "I-I don't-"
"Please, sister? Bring your blankets with you if you must, just please come celebrate?" Your brother begged. His eyes were once wide with innocence, love, concern, and yearning. His eyes didn't look like that anymore. For long since had darkness shrouded them, rendering their pine-bark depths as hollow and empty as this memory that you sought comfort in. The boy standing before you in your dream was naught but an illusion. Your twin had perished in the dark, alone and frightened, in years left to history long since forgotten. 
And the creation that had taken his place?
You weren't entirely sure who he belonged to. For certainly he was your sweet, fun-loving, intuitive brother often enough but from time to time the bloodlust consumed him entirely and that creature was not one you recognized. He was not your twin.
Just so with all your siblings, if you were honest. They all had faded away - shells of the family you knew and adored. Animosity had grown between each of them. All except you. 
"Y/N?" His voice called to you again. Oh, how you missed the innocence in it. 
You lifted your head, clutching your blankets as you stood on frail, trembling, legs. "Coming! I'm coming, brother." 
The boy grinned and raced out the door. You followed him eagerly despite your limp. Passing under the arched doorway of your family's hovel, you found the scene outside blurred and out of focus. You blinked and your vision sharpened, although now you were no longer standing just outside your home. 
Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: October 31st, 988 A.D.
You were kneeling on a patch of frost-covered grass in front of a pile of wood stacked haphazardly. Kol knelt beside you and the sky overhead was bleak and gray.
"Show me again, brother," You demanded, buzzing with excitement, though you couldn't quite remember what for. "Please show me it again? I want to see."
"Y/N, you know father hates it," He said, frowning.
"Father isn't here and I won't tell him," You argued. "Please, Kol?"
"I don't know…"
Your voice quieted. "You're the only one that can help me," You insisted. "The Frost Sickness tugs at the edges of my mind even now. Your light is the only thing that keeps it at bay."
"Alright," He conceded with a sigh. "Just don't let it touch the firewood."
You nodded eagerly and held out your hands. Kol rubbed his own together vigorously before moving them close to his lips. 
"Incendia," He whispered. A spark burst in the air before his lips with a splitting crack and before long, bright orange flames leaped between his fingers. Some in your village whispered that Kol was cursed but you didn't believe them. Your brother was blessed by Frigga with the gift that was magic and he was brilliant in his craft. The boy grinned and glanced up at you. His eyes seemed lighter then, like a sunset. "Ready?" 
"Yes," You breathed, still in awe of your brother's magic. This was not the first you'd seen of it but it still amazed you all the same. "Yes, I'm ready."
Kol offered you another sweet smile. Shuffling a little closer, he gathered the fire in his hands before tilting them and letting it pour into your waiting palms. The flames flickered and danced, licking your fingers as they sent wave after wave of warmth radiating through your body and soul. You sighed. The magical fire burned away the creepings of your Frost Sickness, postponing it a little longer. You were lucky to have a twin like Kol for only the flames of his witchcraft could assist you with your illness.
You memorized his face then, the innocent, joyous, impishly youthful smile on his cheeks and in his eyes cast in the warm glow of the fire held in your palms. He hadn't smiled like that in so long. So, so long.
Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: March 31st, 989 A.D.
Left to your reverie only a moment, the scene before you shifted once again. It was spring, glorious spring all around you. The flowers were in bloom, the trees burst with leaves, and you were once again awake - wide awake. Crossing a bubbling brook with the confident leaps of a small child, undeterred by your bad leg, you admired the beauty of the moss-covered stones you employed as your bridge before continuing on to explore the forest. 
Along with having been born frail, you had also been born with a bad leg. The bones were a little misshapen and it couldn't support your weight. Ayana - the village's healer and foremost practitioner of magic, had fashioned you a splint to help you walk, and you had since refused to let it slow you down. Niklaus had carved for you a walking stick for balance and though you couldn't run, you could skip with the proficiency of a stone on a smooth lake. You danced between the trees as you chased a beautiful butterfly through the brush when a nearby shout brought you to a swift halt.
"Y/N!" That was the voice of your eldest brother, Finn. He didn't sound very pleased. Although, then again, Finn was rather easy to upset. 
"Be gentle, Finn." A different voice chastened. Elijah. "Y/N! Come out, little one!"
This, of course, only prompted you to duck behind a tree to hide as the footsteps of your brothers drew ever nearer. 
"Y/N!" Finn called again, attempting to sound a little less stern. "I swear, that child and her tvíburi are creations of Loki."
"You had best hope not," Elijah advised. "If either of them grow to be any more clever or cunning, then I fear we'll never be able to find them." 
You couldn't help the giggle that left your lips at his statement as you were rather flattered by his praise. Their footsteps began to fade a moment later and you peered out from your hiding spot to check.
"GOTCHA!" Without warning, two arms wrapped around you from behind and hoisted you into the air. You shrieked in surprise but soon began to laugh as you realized that it was Elijah who had captured you. He smiled warmly. "Hello, little one."
"How did you find me?" You wined, pouting a little. 
"Simple," Finn supplied. "We merely listened for the sound of complete disobedience and followed that."
Elijah sighed. "Finn…"
"No, brother. She needs to be taught," Finn said. He rounded on you again. "What were you thinking, running off on your own like that? Do you have any idea what could have happened? You could have gotten lost! You could have died!"
"B-but I was chasing pretty butterfly," You whimpered, beginning to tear up. 
"I don't care what you were doing!" Finn shouted. "Do you know what a wolf would do if it found you? Or Odin forbid - a bear? It would have-"
"Enough, Finn!" Elijah demanded. "That's enough!"
"Is it?" Your eldest brother argued. "Is she too young to understand the danger her frailty will bring to all of us? You know how mother worries about her. Tell me, Elijah - look at her! Is she not so very light to carry?"
"She is but a child," Elijah sighed. He knew Finn spoke the truth. You had been born small. Even now, you were hardly more than half the weight of your twin brother. 
"Rebekah is younger and yet she is heartier still and more stable on her feet." Finn stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You and Niklaus were always so fond of her. But how long do you really think Y/N will last - afflicted as she is? By tradition, Father should have left her to the gods."
You did not understand his words at the time. But no matter what Finn said, you weren't afraid. Finn liked to worry - he never wanted you to do anything - but Elijah, you knew, would always protect you. Nothing bad would ever happen as long as Elijah was there. And even as a child, you knew he always would be.
Elijah stood up a little straighter. "He tried if you recall. He left her in the woods all the night long but the forest would not take her. A fox and vixen stood guard over her until morning; small as she is, they deemed her worthy."
Finn didn't reply, or if he did, you didn't hear. You were far too busy watching a robin make its nest not far away until Elijah spoke to you again.
"Y/N, might you happen to know where your troublesome tvíburi is?"
"Noooooooo…." You lied. You absolutely knew where he was - you always did.
"I think you do," Elijah coaxed, poking you in the ribs. Giggling, you shook your head.
"I don't, though."
"He's probably attempting to burn one of our neighbor's homes to the ground," Finn suggested with a sigh.
Elijah sent you a questioning look and you shook your head again. 
"No!"
"Or torturing some innocent animal…"
"No, we're doing that tomorrow."
"Or hiding everyone's left boot…"
You giggled. Now, that was a fond, fond memory. It took Sven two days to find his boot and by that time he already had a foot full of splinters.
"Or putting worms in someone's pillow - likely mine…"
"Couldn't find any worms - they're still sleeping," You replied with a shrug.
"Or-"
"Alright! I'll tell you!" You finally huffed, rolling your eyes. "But don't tell Father."
"You have my word," Elijah promised before Finn could say anything. Your eldest brother had some annoying traits but he wouldn't make a liar out of Elijah. 
"Kol is making protection wards for Henrick and for everyone so bad things won't happen to us," You informed them in a whisper - this was a secret after all.
"Why is he making them, little sister?" Elijah wondered. 
You just shrugged. "I know not. He said something about having a bad dream last night."
"I see, and what's that little miscreant got you doing?" Finn asked. 
"Picking berries," You answered simply. Elijah let you down and you took each brother by the hand as they began walking back towards the village. 
"Berries? Why?" 
"Snacks!" You chirped. Then you tugged on their hands. "Swing me!" You commanded, bringing your knees up. Finn rolled his eyes but both your siblings caved to your demands, swinging you back and forth between them as they walked you home.
Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: November 10th 1000 A.D.
When the world shifted yet again, you were met with a familiar blackness. The furs of your bed brushed over your skin and the midsummer night was warm and wet though the cool draft breezing through the cave made it rather pleasant. Light from the full moon shone down through a crack in the ceiling overhead but you didn't mind - you liked the nightlight. The rustling of blankets sounded on your right and before long, the dark outline of one of your siblings was creeping its way toward the mouth of the cave. You sat up and pursued as silently as you could in spite of your limp. Though you tried your best, the walking stick Nik had carved for you clacked against the stone floor, alerting whoever was sneaking out to your presence. Still, you waited until you were out of earshot of the rest of your family to speak up.
"Where are you going?" You hissed into the dark, unsure who was doing the sneaking. The figure froze.
"Go back to sleep, Y/N," Niklaus's voice whispered back.
You stepped closer. "Nik? What are you up to?"
"Nothing." His response was too quick to be the truth. "Don't worry about it. Just return to your dreams."
"But I do worry about you, Niklaus," You said. "I know you admire the wolves - I can feel your curiosity." You had always been in tune with the thoughts and emotions of those around you. Sensing them came rather naturally to you, just as spellcasting came so easily to Kol. Somehow Niklaus's emotions had always been the most vibrant of all your siblings and his thoughts the easiest to read. It was probably why the two of you were so close.
"Your magic is growing stronger then?" Nik tried to change the subject but you didn't fall for it, knowing what weighed on his mind. You stepped closer, tilting your head.
"You feel like somehow… you belong with them… as if you're meant to be up there running with the pack." Your brows furrowed and your mouth twisted into a frown. Your eyes grew unfocused and your voice took on a droning quality. "Running. Yes, running. Running underneath the moon and the stars but not the sun. Running. Yes, running on and on forever… always and forever. Running. Running for eternity. Running wild, running scared, running hungry, running blind. Running cursed. Yes, we'll all be running cursed…"
"Y/N?" Niklaus jabbed your shoulder. When that didn't stop your mumbling, he took hold of your shoulders and gave you a firm shake. "Y/N, snap out of it!"
You blinked, shaking your head. Then you looked up. It wasn't odd for you to have visions. You had quite a few of them while your brother had only ever received maybe one or two. Most were rather mundane or just complete rubbish but every so often you would be privy to a glimpse into the future. This night had been one such time, though you hadn't realized the true extent of your visions' significance. You remembered this night. Yes, you remembered it all too well. It was but one year to the day that your mother cursed you all.
"Niklaus, do you not love me?" You asked suddenly, feeling tears prick your eyes.
"What? Of course, I do!" He insisted. "Why ask such a ridiculous question?"
"Because you feel like you belong with them - with the wolves," You explained. "But I don't want you to be with them. I want you to be here with me… and Finn, and Elijah, and Kol, and Rebekah, and Henrick. I don't want you to go and replace me."
Niklaus smiled fondly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "Oh, sweet little sister… How could I ever replace you?"
"With a dog," You muttered.
He shook his head. "A dog can't find the perfect flowers to make paint out of - not like you can. I love you, Y/N. I'll always love you."
"Then don't sneak out to see the wolves," You pleaded. "They hurt someone tomorrow… or yesterday… I don't know. Can't remember the order. " The events were all jumbled up in your head. Past, present, and future all existed simultaneously and you had no way to distinguish which one was which.
"Did you have a vision?" He demanded. You nodded.
"Things change when you go," You told him. "Wait a little longer? I want one more bonfire season before this era comes to an end."
It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t understand what your words or your prophecy had meant - you hardly understood them yourself most times and the rest of your siblings stopped trying. Not that it mattered anymore. You no longer had visions, no longer cast spells nor drew wards. It wasn’t long after that night that everything fell apart. Henrick died and your mother cursed your family and everything - everyone - fell apart. 
Finn lost himself to self-loathing. He became as winter itself - cold and distant. Though you tried to reconnect with him, it seemed to you as though that was the last thing he wanted. 
Outskirts of Rome, Italy: May, 18th 1156
It was summer if your recollection served - your recollection of the last moments you spent alone with him before Niklaus decided he was a danger to himself and the rest of you, that was. You had sought him out that afternoon. You were the only one to do so as the rest of your siblings had given up attempting to include him.
But that wasn’t you. 
It was how you and your twin were different. Kol had always been a bit of a flake, however, he was an extremely prudent one, to his credit. He would come at a problem a thousand different ways, but would never try the same solution twice. On the other hand, you liked things simple and direct and knew that sometimes a problem requires tenacity. You just hadn’t been ready to let go of Finn. Abrasive as he was, you loved him.
“Do you mind if I join you, brother?” You asked, having finally found him. He sat leaning against the base of a mighty oak tree at the edge of a summer meadow. The grass was bright green and the sky a brilliant blue - it was your favorite time of the year.
Finn glanced up, his expression unguarded as it was, displaying a lost sort of melancholy. “I suppose you may,” He said. You smiled and sat down beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder. You were still so small for your age. Despite having turned eighteen merely a week before Henrick died, your appearance could pass for that of a fifteen-year-old. You looked more like Henrick’s twin than Kol’s.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” You wondered, watching the white puffy clouds drift overhead.
Finn shrugged. “Just… sitting quietly,” He replied. He did this quite often, though you were more inclined to think of it as wallowing in self-pity. Not that you would say that out loud. The last thing Finn needed was more mockery, though your siblings didn’t seem to see that. Finn was a bit more like you it seemed. Your family and village had always called it Frost-Sickness, though as the world developed and greater advancements were made in the realm of medicine, you came to discover in later years that your condition was labeled Seasonal Depression. It was a sickness of the mind rather than the body and saw to it that your moods were more heavily influenced by the weather than those of other people. 
Thus, Finn you figured, must have been a bit like you. Except the rain cloud which hovered over his head was not quite as severe and certainly less predictable. Though it didn’t leave him bedridden as it did you, his bouts of sadness came and went as they pleased and when they came they drew him further and further away from his siblings.
“What about you?” Finn asked, fiddling with a branch he’d picked up off the ground. “Why are you here, sister?”
You shrugged. “Kol can be really loud sometimes,” You said simply. 
Finn hummed his agreement, nodding. “That he can.”
“There are days when I find it impressive,” you admitted, voice pensive. “but today is not one of those days.” You planned to continue adding elements to your reasoning until you won a laugh from him. You were the only one of your siblings who could make Finn laugh. “And then Niklaus joins him and you know how those two get when they drink together so may God have mercy on that poor, poor, tavern -” Finn huffed, rolling his eyes. “Then, bloody hell, I don’t know whose idea it was to invent Pub Archery but let's hope it doesn’t catch on, otherwise Italy will have gained a new sport and we’ll have to listen to those two gloat about it for the rest of the century.”
“Pub Archery?” Your brother questioned, raising a brow.
You nodded. “Indeed.”
“Dare I ask?”
“Well, the rules are dubious at best but from what I can tell, a mug of ale is placed on a table halfway between the wall and wherever the player is standing. A bow and an arrow with a mid-sized hook affixed to the shaft are given to whoever is currently in play. Apparently, Kol has officially dubbed this position “the Arse in Question” - he was very clear about that when explaining the game to me.” You shrugged and continued. “Anyway, the Arse in Question then attempts to send the arrow through the handle of the mug, while doing their best to ensure that the fish hook catches on the handle as the arrow passes through it. Their goal is to lodge the arrow in the wall with the mug of ale still on it. If the mug is still somewhat full by the time the Arse in Question can make his or her way over to it then they are awarded the proper number of points and they have to drink whatever is left. Three points for a full pint, two points for half-full, and one point for a quarter pint. Now if the mug falls off, or the arrow fails to remain in the wall, then the Arse in Question loses five points.”
Finn frowned, slightly confused. “And what if the… bowman were to miss the mug on the table completely?”
“Well, in that case, he takes a shot.”
Your brother rolled his eyes. “When does this game - if it can be called that - end?”
“I haven’t the faintest,” You shrugged, shaking your head. “Though, so far I think it may be with whoever is the first to pass out. According to Rebekah, there’s a fifteen-point penalty for fainting, so I’d assume at least competitive play ends after that. I didn’t stick around long enough to inquire further. I value my eyes.”
“Smart decision,” He said with an approving nod. “And does Elijah know of this latest depraved scheme?”
You sent him a look. “Elijah’s the self-appointed referee,” You deadpanned. Your second eldest brother liked to believe he had some maturity and admittedly he had more than you, Kol, Nik, or Bekah, but it really wasn’t much.
“He approves?” Your bother asked in slight disbelief. 
“Elijah’s responsibility is a facade. What is a wall of stone to outsiders, we know to be a bride’s veil,” You said sagely, nodding solemnly. 
And finally, finally, Finn laughed. It had been years since you had heard him laugh. It was a soft chuckle, not much at all, but it was there and you knew better than most that sometimes that’s the best someone can give.
“You make a fine point, little one,” Finn mused, patting your hand. “Would you like me to talk some sense into them?” 
You snorted. “Right. Good luck with that, mikill göltur.” You gestured lazily with a few reeds you had plucked and were now playing with absently. “By all means, go right ahead; although, I must warn you that the aroma of that establishment is a fine shade of brown.”
Your eldest brother grimaced at your description. “I see. In that case, I think I’ll leave Elijah to deal with them.” He leaned back against the tree, folding his arms behind his head. 
“You should go see that Sage woman again,” You prompted, entirely out of the blue. It amused you to see the blush that covered your eldest brother’s cheeks at your suggestion. He was fond of her.
“W-what on earth makes you say that?” He sputtered, casting his gaze pointedly to the sky.
“She makes you happy,” You answered, plain and simple. That was who you were, plain and simple. “I like seeing my siblings happy - all of them.” With that, you tossed your creation - a corsage woven from wildflowers - into his lap and hopped to your feet. “Now go see her!” You commanded, nudging his knee with your foot.
He sat up. “Perhaps I will.” 
“Good!” You turned and began to skip away.
“But only if you talk to that blacksmith lad!” Finn called after you. You froze. Whipping around on your heel, you gaped, staring at him with wide E/C eyes. He just shrugged, smug as could be. 
That was the last you saw of your eldest brother. Nik put a dagger in his heart and then there were five.
Now, Elijah on the other hand, was not Finn. They were radically different and Elijah got lost in his own way.
See, Elijah was hungry and he killed Tatia. He killed his love and the grief consumed him. He became so obsessed with somehow making it right as if keeping his hands clean from then on could somehow remove the stain of her blood. You knew what he’d done and you didn’t blame him but through the next hundred years and on it almost seemed to you as though he forgot. It was odd, but you chose not to bring it up; perhaps that was a mistake on your part. So it was that instead of drawing away from you and your siblings, Elijah drew closer. He viewed it as his responsibility to watch over the family and keep everyone together. What Elijah could not see, however, was that some things are simply fated to fall apart.
Somewhere Off the Coast of Cadiz, Spain: June 22nd, 1730
Five hundred years after you spoke to Finn beneath that tree in Italy, you found yourself in front of Elijah in the somewhat damp confines of a cargo hold in a ship just off the coast of Cadiz, Spain. Behind him stood two caskets and inside one of them was your twin brother, immobilized and in excruciating agony. You could practically feel the dagger in your own chest yet Elijah refused to let you free him. 
“Move aside, Elijah!”
“I’ve said no and my answer is final,” Your brother repeated. “Kol will remain as he is until such a time as Father is half the world behind us. Only then will we risk reviving him.”
“That’s not fair!” You argued.
“Oh I do believe it is,” He countered, crossing his arms and looking down at you. He was much taller than you were. “It was Kol’s mass slaughter in Cadiz that led Father right to us and clearly nothing you or I have said to him has made an impact.This was never my first course of action, Y/N. But until you should devise some other more prudent method to disway your brother from devouring the entire town, I’m afraid this is how things must be. He. Must. Learn. Control.”
You rolled your eyes and huffed, long since tired of his condemnations and hypocrisy - intentional or not. “He’s our brother and for the millionth time, Elijah: That’s not the problem! It’s not his fault if he can’t control it, because you lot have never given him a reason to!”
“That is preposterous and you know it,” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Do I?” You demanded. “It’s always you, Rebekah, and Niklaus. That Always and Forever pact - that was you three. It wasn’t us! I knew that you would make it before you did and yet nether of us were a part of it! Whenever the three of you do something, you never think to invite him along. The few times you and Nik actually ask all of us to vote on a decision, you don’t give our opinions half the weight you give to Rebekah’s.” 
Elijah frowned and held up a hand to stop you. “That is not remotely true. I view each-”
“No, you don’t,” You hissed, fighting the tears pooling in your eyes. “You hardly even notice us when we’re in the room with you, unless one of us is shouting and if either of us leaves, you might as well forget we exist entirely! I remember one time when Kol just up and left - said he was going to catch one of the bloody crusades.” You laughed but there wasn’t much humor in it. “He was gone for five and a half months and you didn’t even notice!”
“I did notice, actually.”
You glared at him. “I distinctly recall you commenting about how quiet it was one morning, after he’d been away three months. I told you he left. You were surprised and then you went right back to your book; you didn’t even ask where he’d gone!”
“I suppose I would have if such a question mattered, but unfortunately, Kol can look after himself,” Elijah said in disdain. You were aware that Elijah had carried a grudge towards Kol since the day the two of you were born. Though he’d never said it out loud, he’d always thought of your twin as a leach because he’d been born strong and you had been so frail. “He excels at it.”
“Because you don’t care to do the job!” You exclaimed. “You discount our opinions and refuse to see either of us as anything more than children. I mean, you hardly so much as look at me unless I’m attempting something you deem too dangerous. I hardly dare speak to a boy, even if he’s naught but a servant, lest I ensure that Niklaus shall orchestrate some awful accident to befall the poor lad. Both me and Kol - you see us only as another burden you bear and you ignore any attempt we make to change your mind.”
Aside from Kol, all your siblings had always seen you as weak and in need of protection - Elijah most of all. His eyes narrowed and he looked over you with scrutiny. 
“Always so quick to defend him,” He huffed. “If what you claim is true, then how have you mastered the control he so completely lacks?”
“It’s different for me,” You insisted. “My magic was different.”
“How was it different?” 
You bit your lip, mulling over your answer. You wanted to get this right, wanted to make him understand that the bloodthirsty monster he condemned was merely a prison and that your sweet, bubbly twin brother was locked somewhere deep inside. 
“My magic was more constant, I think,” You started, speaking slowly. “You must understand brother, magic wasn’t just something Kol and I did; it was something we were, it was a part of us, but I think we each felt it in a different way. He was so good at spell casting - at manifesting his very will into reality. I was always better at seeing, sensing, feeling, and just knowing the thoughts and emotions of everyone - everything - around me. My magic was a blanket, a quiet comforting reassurance that I wasn’t alone and that nature was looking out for me.” That loss still weighed on your soul every single day. You sighed but continued anyway, “But for Kol I think it was more like water. He’s always hated feeling helpless, and for him, I think magic meant that there was always something he could do to fight back.”
“Fight back?” He questioned. Your expression grew grim, eyes darkening. 
“Against Father,” You said. “You know Father hated Niklaus most but Kol was always the next he would hit. Magic wasn’t a luxury for Kol - it was his survival. When he first tapped into it, our brother knocked Mikael flat on his ass - Kol earned Father’s respect. For him magic was a thrill, a lightning excitement, power, and reassurance, both a sword and a shield, and a bonfire wish - it was everything. It was like water - and like water, its absence consumes him. He tells me often now that it’s much too quiet. He can’t stand the silence - the vulnerability maddens him. He didn’t mean to bring Mikael upon us… He fears father more than you know.”
“And you do not?” Elijah challenged, regarding you strangely. Again you thought about your answer. 
“No,” You decided after a moment. Your brother frowned, shaking his head. 
“You are not such a fool as that, lítil víx,” He said with a disapproving gaze. He called you little vixen - the fox’s, smaller, swifter, and wiser counterpart. 
He turned to leave the cargo hold, knowing you would not disobey him, but you whipped around and caught his sleeve.
“I do not fear him as much as I once did,” You amended, looking your brother dead in the eyes. “Father fears death, he always has though I did not see it then. Knowing that what he fears is so common, so natural, and so inevitable a thing, my fear of him has dwindled. I think I more pity him now than I fear him. For how very sad it is that he hunts us with no other purpose than to destroy that which reared into being. How very sad it is that he disregards the exuberant beauty all around him in favor of his hatred. How very sad indeed.”
Your second eldest brother blinked, taking a moment to completely process what you’d said. “I suppose you’re right,” He said slowly, nodding. Then he frowned. “Do you not fear death, Y/N?”
You smiled softly. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” You glanced towards the coffin that would imprison your twin brother for far, far, too long. “But I do not fear it as Mikael did, nor as Esther did. I anticipate it, I think. I anticipate it as one anticipates the surprises a new day might bring. Good or bad - it’s a new experience; though it shall certainly be nice to be free of the Frost-Sickness, I think. However that may be.”
Your brother considered your words but you knew they would not change his mind. For your family was frozen in body and mind and that was how you would remain for the rest of eternity. You were as eighteen then as you’d been one hundred years before… Well, perhaps you were slightly more. Each year only seemed to make you stronger, faster, sharper, and more eighteen. Time was the seal of your mother’s spell. Immortality polarized.
“I know you miss him, Y/N,” Elijah said with a heavy sigh. “But this is for the best.” 
You hung your head and nodded, allowing the tears in your eyes to spill down your cheeks freely for a little while. Your older brother reached out and brought you into his embrace, letting you cry as long as you needed. “Then I have just one request, if you’ll grant it,” You proposed, voice chipping like the stained glass windows of cathedrals you so dearly loved. 
“What is it, little one?”
“Don’t wake him while I’m sleeping?” You sniffed. “I don’t want him to be sad.”
“You have my word, lítil víx,” He promised.
Then there were four. 
It wasn’t that you forgave Elijah. No, that would take time. Rather you simply could never bring yourself to hate any of your siblings. Not even Niklaus. As much pain as he caused, as much terror as he sewed, and as much paranoia as he reaped, you could never bring yourself to hate your dearest artist. Bastard, hybrid, abomination - none of those labels ever phased you because he was still the quiet, loving brother who painted you flowers when you were Frost-Sick. 
It didn’t matter to you that he had killed your mother.
You loved him anyway.
London, England: October 16th, 1702
“I see your skill with a brush is improving, Nik!” You declared, flouncing into the second-floor study that your brother had commandeered as his studio. “You have perfectly captured the Siberian tundra. Congratulations. Though, your depiction might have been better had you simply left the canvas as you found it.” You smirked to yourself, rather satisfied with your wit, as you reclined in the overstuffed chair you dragged into the room behind you.
Niklaus let go of a long sigh and returned the brush he was working with to a basin of water he kept beside him. When he spoke, he did not turn to address you.
“May I ask what I did to warrant myself deserving of such bite from my littlest sister?” He asked, calm and fluid. He wasn’t in a good mood - you could tell. Thus you wanted to stay all the more. Perhaps you could cheer each other up. 
“I am not even that short,” You stated. Niklaus tossed a different brush, still covered in paint, over his shoulder, aimed for your face. You lept to dodge it with a giggle. “Secondly, it’s the season - I simply can’t help it.”
It was autumn in the city of London and the year was 1702, only a hand full of years before your family relocated to Cadiz and then later, New Orleans. Autumn was a difficult time of year for you as it was when the Frost-Sickness began to take hold. It had only grown worse since your transition into a creature of the night, just as everything about you had been enhanced. Though the Frost-Sickness could no longer afflict you with illness as it had when you were human - keeping you bedridden or even unconscious for days or weeks at a time - it could now do arguably worse. 
As autumn came, you could feel your mind and body begin to weaken. You felt frayed and tired and uncomfortable in a body that had for too long remained unchanged. You felt the loss of your magic so much more keenly and the loneliness that caused was far too acute. As the season wore on, it would only grow worse until you knew only misery. At that point, the silver daggers Niklaus had kept seemed like mercy, and without Kol’s magic to keep your head above water, you had willingly begged for their employ. They were your only escape from the pain that came with winter.
“Oh, how tragic,” Klaus remarked. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Where’s your twin?”
“On a bender,” You deadpanned.
Nik huffed. “Figures. Go annoy him. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to entertain you.”
You gasped in full shock. “Nik! How could you say that?”
“Simple. I pass air between my lips - like this!” He twisted around and stuck his tongue out at you.
You continued, unbothered. “I do not annoy, brother. I berate. There’s a difference.” 
“An impressive distinction, to be sure.”
“And yes, I am sure Kol would love to entertain me if he were not otherwise preoccupied entertaining someone else.” 
Klaus groaned. “What’s he done now and do I need to dagger him for it?”
“Please don’t make me think about it longer than necessary, but no.” You frowned, shuddering. 
“Now you have to tell me,” Your older brother grinned.
“I’m pretty sure he’s endevoring to sleep with the entire female population of London.”
“...Wow.”
“Indeed.”
He whistled and returned to working on that painting of his. “Well, you have to admire his audacity if nothing else,” Nik chuckled. 
You made a noise that was certainly anything but ladylike, followed by a gesture that was far worse. “I absolutely do not have to admire any aspect of him!” You exclaimed. You had hoped Klaus would have been just slightly more decent - if only for the sake of propriety. “He may be a strumpet of a man, but I am not. I am a lady.”
“I don’t see why this upsets you so,” He hummed, shaking his head. 
You huffed. “Because unfortunately, I am also his genetic copy. Therefore - technically speaking - if he’s slept with them, then I’ve slept with them! Which, admittedly, wouldn’t bother me if this were not the absolute bloody cesspool that is the bloody city of London!”
You’d expected him to laugh, and he did just a little bit, but it wasn’t nearly what you wanted. Dirty jokes almost always cheered Nik up and hearing him laugh never failed to make you laugh. Peering over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of gray fur. He was painting wolves again. 
“Must be nice,” He mused a while later, having left you to silence for over a half hour.
“What?”
“Having a twin as you do,” He explained, voice wistful and far away. “Having someone you belong with completely, a reflection of yourself you know could not betray you nor abandon you any than the sea can abandon the shore. Must be nice.”
“Its not all bliss,” You reminded him, sitting up in your chair. “Kol still agrivates the living daylights out of me.”
“Such is the nature of being Kol.”
You nodded but said nothing, allowing him a moment with his thoughts before you asked the question he so desperately wanted to hear. “What’s wrong Niklaus?”
He sighed, though it sounded broken.
“Do you ever miss our mother, Y/N?” He asked.
You stilled. Out of all your siblings, you were the only one who knew what Niklaus had done. How he had murdered your mother. You had received visions of the moment throughout your life but particularly often in the months before it occurred. He didn’t know. You had never told him.
“Why ask me that, brother?” You returned, tilting your head.
“Because I want to know if this grief that still weighs so heavy on my soul is mine own fault or her’s.” He eyed you with a flat stare and you nodded, pressing your lips together. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings but you didn’t think your answer was one he would like. 
“I loved our mother dearly,” You eventually decided to say after a few beats of silence had passed between you. “But I do not miss her as you do.”
Nik’s voice trembled and the paintbrush clutched in his fist snapped. 
“Why?”
You smiled thinly. “Because I knew her as you do not.”
Your brother glanced up, meeting your eyes with an expression that demanded you explain yourself. You sighed heavily. It was time to come clean.
“I know what you did, Nik.”
His entire body stiffened, his eyes widening in alarm and terror.
“I know you killed her.” You shrugged. “I’m not mad.”
He drew in a sharp breath, shaking his head, his expression a mixture of guilt, relief, and confusion.
“How? W-why?” He choked out, unable to grasp the concept you’d laid in front of him.
“Because you’re my brother and I love you,” You said, smiling as though it was as simple as the words would imply. “Esther loved all of us in her own way, but that was not how a mother should. She loved the idea of children but the reality was more difficult than she had predicted and she struggled to understand her place, I think. Esther was barren, you see. She tapped into some very dark rituals to change that. Thus, we are all products of dark magic and such things so rarely receive a generous fortune from the spirits of nature. So we were all damned from the start, I think.” Pulling yourself to stand on legs that were still so frail, you wandered over to a side table and picked up the brush that rested upon it. You began moving it through your H/C hair in careful strokes. “In the end, Mother paid the price for her selfishness, I suppose. I don’t blame you. I cannot blame you, Niklaus lest I blame myself equally because that woman never loved any of us enough to save our souls and for that, I am simply unable to forgive her. I may never be able to.”
Tears slipped down your brother’s face. “But she loved you. I know she loved you most of all,” He said, through gritted teeth. 
You nodded, huffing a slight laugh. “That she did. Actually, I think she loved me a little too much.”
“You reminded her of Freya,” Klaus whispered. “Of her firstborn, the one she lost to plague.”
“I know.”
“She worried for you constantly, terrified some sickness would take you just as it took Freya.”
“I know.”
“When your Frost-Sickness rendered you unconscious, she nery left your side!”
“I know.”
Klaus clenched his teeth and growled. “Yet still you whine like a spoiled cat!” He spat, rage and jealousy now taking the forefront in his aquamarine eyes. “You never suffered our father’s rage, never had to labor as the rest of us did to please him, you were always doted apon by everyone - never had to feel as though you didn’t belong, as though you had you earn your place! How dare you take all that for granted.” 
Your jaw locked and you gently placed the brush down to avoid crushing the fine wood into splinters. Inhaling deeply, you fixed your gaze on your brother. “I have never taken for granted anything that was given to me. The sun, the moon, the stars, the trees, the rivers, the land, and more than anything this family have I given thanks for every single day I have been allotted. You, Niklaus, know not what it is to wake up, surprised that you made it another day. You, Niklaus, do not understand what it is to rejoice in the unfathomable agony that plagues your bones as it means that you’re alive. You, my brother, cannot comprehend what it is to put off sleep in fear that you may not see the next dawn - nor to fight through a hell of your mind’s own making for no other cause than for the love of family.” You shook your head, disappointed in him. “Do not call me ungrateful, Niklaus.” 
“Then why do you think of our mother with contempt when even I who took her life cannot forgive myself?!” He bellowed. His voice and eyes were hollow and broken, his soul desperate for an answer to his heart’s riddle. 
You could feel yourself begin to cry as well. Not for your own sake, but for his. 
“Her love wasn’t for me, Nik,” You sniffed. “It wasn’t mine - it was Freya’s.”
“N-no… She-”
“I grew up smothered by a shadow of love and regret that never had anything to do with me!” You cried, wrapping your arms around yourself as if they might contain the pain that threatened to tear you apart. “Mother’s doting wasn’t compassion! It was obsession! She thought that if she could just fix her past mistakes that it might somehow change how things were for us, but it was always a lie. A fairytale.”
When your older brother opened his arms, you ran to him, and he embraced you as any older brother should. You had aimed to cheer him up, but such was not the outcome. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re planned and Niklaus just let you cry. At the end of the day, your siblings would always be there for you - even if it was only at the very end.
“What’s worse was that I knew, I felt it every second,” You sobbed into his shirt, clinging to him like a plank of wood in a storm-tossed sea. “I saw myself in her eyes and believe me when I say that through them I know what our dearly departed sister looked like. She even called me Freya more times than I can count.” You shook your head, letting the pain run its course. “I was just her replacement, Nik. Just a replacement she tossed to the wayside like the rest of of her children - damned from the start.”
In this memory it was Niklaus who hung his head, ashamed of his quick accusations. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your hair. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N,” He said. “My minnsta vix, you are my sister - blood be damned - and I’ll never doubt your loyalty agian.”
And he never did. Of all your siblings, you were the only one Nik never daggered out of fear or as a punishment. Not like Kol, who was easily the one finding himself at the wrong end of a dagger too many times to count.
As much as his actions against your family, Niklaus especially, pained you, you couldn’t blame him. Your mother’s curse had consumed your twin brother and oh how acutely did you miss the mischievous boy you had adored with all your heart. The only time he truly seemed to return to you was around Bonfire season, or as it came to be called, Christmas.
New Orleans, Louisiana: December 3rd, 1904
“Kol, sweetheart, honey-bunch, mistletoe of mine; you had better start running because I’m going to beat your ass to a pulp as soon as I reach the bottom of these here stairs,” You sang from the balcony overlooking the courtyard of your families New Orleans compound. A wide, placid smile was spread over your face but it was the equivalent of thin ice because your eyes promised death. 
Down below, decorating the positively gigantic fir tree Klaus had somehow managed to fit through the front gates, stood your menace of a twin brother. He glanced up, flashing you the world’s cheekiest grin. “Oh, darling that’s not very peace on earth of you, now is it? Especially when I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong!”
Your eyes narrowed. “I think you know exactly what you did, Charles.” 
He snickered but held your eyes. Beside him Rebekah looked confused, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “What exactly is going on here?” She asked. Your younger sister also took a step away from your twin for good measure. She was a smart cookie.
Keeping your razer sharp glare fixed on Kol, you drew an object from behind your back - a long, thin, wooden object. You held it on display before you, twirling it like a staff between your fingers. You said nothing.
Rebekah groaned, rolling her eyes. “Really? We’re back to this again?” She scoffed and rounded on Kol. “What, did you run out of actually clever pranks to pull?”
“There’s nothing wrong with the classics, Rebekah,” Elijah cut in from where he sat with his book in the corner. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens - how appropriate. 
“There is when its this one,” She claimed. “We’re going to be cleaning bits of Kol off the walls for a century when she’s though with ‘im!”
“Damn right, you are,” You said, eyeing your twin brother like a lion eyes a gazell. “Got anything to say for yourself… dim-wit?”
Kol grinned from ear to ear. “Why yes actually, I do.” He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. Then he looked up, spreading his arms wide. “God bless us, Everyone!”
For a moment you didn’t move. You just glared death at him and he grinned back. Then, you chucked the crutch in your hands like a javelin, aimed directly at his face before vaulting yourself over the railing, screaming at the top of your lungs. “SUFFER THE WRATH OF TINY TIM, YOU KNOB-HEADED WANKER!!!”
Kol squealed like a girl and bolted just as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?” He tried as he backed away from you, using Elijah and his chair as a shield.
“You forged these chains link by link and yard by yard,” You quoted, inching closer. “No apology can save you from me!”
“Bloody hell!” He yelped and leaped to the side as you made a grab for him, just narrowly dodging. He raced into the room closest to the two of you, dashing around the dining room table and through the opposite door. “Just because you’re a cripple doesn’t mean I don’t love you!”
You pursued him into the Kitchen. “How’s this for cripple?” You lept onto the counter and from there flung yourself onto your brother’s shoulders, tackling him to the floor. “Surrender or die!” You commanded, pressing your forearm against his throat.
“Fine! I surrender!” He conceded. You moved off him and allowed the boy to stand. 
“Mean cripple,” He muttered under his breath. 
You punched him in the gut.
It was that playful side of him that you missed. The one that would tease you with jabs that didn't sting just a little. The one who never sneered at you or yelled. You even missed his endless supply of cripple jokes, because that was him. That was your Kol and he was gone now. Your mother's curse had changed him most of all. 
Rebekah, on the other hand, hadn't changed much at all. Though she had developed something of an extreme side, her patterns remained the same. She followed in Niklaus's footsteps, wherever they may tread. She trusted and feared him. Rebekah always chose Nik over you and your twin.
New Orleans, Louisiana: December 21st, 1914
"No!" You shrieked as you watched that cold silver dagger pierce your twin brother's heart once again. The color in his skin faded to a corpse-like gray and the veins beneath blackened and ran dry. "No…"
He was gone. Kol would be locked away and there was no telling whether Niklaus would ever let him out again. The grief, the pain, and the agony were too much. You had only nearly been hanging on and only for Christmas - only for Kol because he loved the season so. But with him gone, the pain assaulted you in droves. Tears burned your eyes and you found yourself turning towards Rebekah.
"I trusted you," You whispered - heartbroken. "We trusted you."
"Y/N/N, I-I had to," She claimed. 
"No, you didn't." You shook your head, tears already making their way down your cheeks. "No, you didn't."
"Y/N, you don't understand-"
You didn't let her finish. Shaking your head, you turned away and carried yourself back to your room. There, you let yourself collapse on your bed, allowing the weight of the Frost-Sickness to crush you. Already your body felt heavier, your chest like a vice. You didn't want to be here any longer. Not without him.
A knock sounded on your door. 
"I don't want to talk!" You shouted.
The knock came again.
"Go away!"
The door opened and Niklaus stepped in. You glared at him.
"Do you not speak English?" You demanded. "Go away, I said. Trŭgvaĭ. Partir. Verlassen. Scram. Beat it. Leave me alone, it's what you're best at."
"I did what I had to do," Klaus said, eyes hard.
"Keep telling yourself that," You spat.
"He was plotting against me, forging a dagger-"
"He wasn't going to use it!" You bit your lip, your whole frame shaking with unshed tears. "He-He wasn't… He was never-" You fell back against your pillows, burying your face in your hands.
"Love, please-"
"I can't." You heaved and gasped for breath but you couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. "I can't a-and I don't want to. I don't want to be around without him - not now. I don't want this pain any longer! To run afoul of winter will surely shred my soul! I can't stand it, Niklaus! Just put me to sleep!"
Klaus closed his eyes and sighed. "Are you confident this is what you want?"
"I can't do it without him. This whole season - I can't stand it. I don't want to spend Christmas without him! Not this one or any other!" You rubbed your red-rimmed eyes. "Let me sleep through the winter, and wake me when you wake him."
"As you wish, dear sister." 
From his pocket, Klaus withdrew a gleaming silver dagger. Its edges glinted like snowflakes, though New Orleans didn't have those. He moved to sit by your side, raising his arm so you could lean against his shoulder. You closed your eyes, and a moment later, felt the chilling metal slice your flesh, lodging itself firmly in your heart.
"Merry Christmas, Nik." The words were the last to leave your lips.
"Sleep well and dream of butterflies, minnsta vix," Those words were the last you heard Klaus whisper to you. "I promise I shall wake you one day."
You knew Klaus would keep his promise, though it startled you when that promise came to fruition.
Mystic Falls, Virginia: Present Day
The first thing you registered when you awoke was a voice. Two voices actually. One that sounded like music and another that reminded you more of a rotten honeycomb - slimy, sticky, and brittle. You remained still and listened as these were not the voices of your family members and thus, they would have some serious explaining to do.
"Damon?" The musical voice spoke. "We did it. Abby and I opened the coffin."
The second voice, most likely this Damon fellow - not that you cared - sounded rather muffled. Almost as if he wasn't actually in the room. Speaking of, whatever sort of room you found yourself in was large and open. That is, everything echoed.
"Yeah?" The voice prodded impatiently. "And what's in there? What did you find?"
"Another corpse with a dagger through it," A third voice joined the conversation. This voice was similar to the music-like voice of the young girl, though it had a smokier quality.
"What?" That second voice did not sound happy. "That's it?"
"Yup. She's just some girl," The first voice replied.
"How old are her clothes?" The second asked. 
“Uh, I don’t know…” You felt someone pinch the fabric of your skirts, likely inspecting the make.
“Early ninteen-hundreds, I’d say,” The third voice spoke. How long had you been out? Niklaus wouldn’t have kept you daggered for that long, would he?
“Did you take the dagger out?” Damon demanded.
Always one for a dramatic entrance, you took that as your cue. Sitting up slowly, you turned your head and opened your eyes. Your whole body felt drained and dry and you knew the telltale signs of desiccation were still there. Two women stood in front of you, one adult and one no older than seventeen. Both had beautiful caramel skin and black hair and they shared the same gorgeous green eyes. Witches they were - mother and daughter. You could tell in the way they carried themselves. Both of them gasped in unison.
“I’m afraid they did,” You said with a smirk. “Hope that’s not too much of a problem.” Of course, you didn’t mean such a statement but for now, you were in good enough spirits to be amused. You focused your gaze on the younger of the two witches, schooling your expression to assure her that you meant the girl no harm. “Hello, darling. Would you be so kind as to tell me the date? I’m afraid I’ve been asleep a rather long time.”
What odd clothes these women wore. Instead of skirts, they sported trousers. Scandalous to be sure, but what you wouldn’t give for a pair.
The young girl floundered for a moment, searching for words but you remained patent. 
“Uh, um… I-it’s January 20th, 2012.” 
Your eyes widened in shock for a moment as you digested that information, then your expression fell into a grimace. “Great,” You huffed. Tossing your hair back, you hopped out of that cramped coffin and onto the floor of the cave. “Well, in that case, who are you and do I need to murder you both?”
Both women took a hesitant step back. 
“I-I’m Bonnie, Bonnie Bennet,” The younger one said. “And this is my mother, Abby.” She pointed to her senior companion. 
“I see,” You nodded cooly. Your mood was souring by the minute.
“We-we were told you were the weapon capable of killing Klaus Mikaelson,” She said.
You raised a brow and laughed. "Kill him? Kill Niklaus?" The expressions of the women before you were entirely serious though they quickly began to deteriorate into confusion as you doubled over laughing. "Now why on Earth would I do such a thing?"
Both witches glanced at one another, uncertain. "Well… because he daggered you?"
"At my behest!" You dismissed with a wave of your hand. "As if he could suffer me anything against my will; though, by Odin, I would certainly love to see him try. Ha! Kill him… I'd sooner let Kol have the pleasure - as long as we're suggesting absurdities. However, I will have a few choice words for him, just as soon as he comes to collect me, that you can be sure of." You shook your head as your laughter faded.
"That'll be hard, princess," The owner of that second voice you had heard waltzed through the mouth of the cavern. "The big bad wolf's got no clue where you are, so I don't think you'll be telling him anything."
He was a tall man, a little shorter than Kol but a little broader in the shoulders, with hair as black as a raven's plumage and pale skin to match. His eyes were a piercing sort of blue and you might have found him attractive had it not been for the unnerving gleam in those eyes and the sneer marring his lips.
"I beg your pardon?" You questioned, falling back into a more defensive stance at the sight of him. You didn't fear the man but something about that voice of his set you on edge.
"No one's coming to get you, sweetheart," Damon said.
You scowled, snapping your gaze back to Bonnie who had begun inching towards her ally's arrival. "You, girl! Why do you seek my brother's demise?" You demanded, eyes hard and sharp.
Bonnie froze. "I just want to protect my friends," She replied.
You shrugged. "A noble cause, at least."
"Wait, Klaus is your brother?" It was her mother who voiced the question and you rolled your eyes.
"Yes, of course he is. What else would he be?" You answered impatiently.
"Then why did he have your coffin sealed?" The woman questioned.
"Because my siblings are a rather overprotective lot and they tend to overdo my security just a tad." You huffed and turned back to the daughter. "Do you know where my brother currently resides?"
"Y-yes." She nodded.
"Very well, darling. Take me to him," You ordered shortly. Your tone left no room for debate and the women both moved to obey you but the man held his arm out to stop them.
"Woah, woah, woah. Not so fast. You're not going anywhere, princess," He said, taking a confident step forward.
"Step aside," You demanded. You had run out of patience.
The man - Damon - shook his head. "Not gonna happen."
You raised a brow. "Oh?"
"Nope."
"I should warn you, that's rather ill advised," You said, smiling thinly. Your eyes promised danger.
"And why's that, sugar?" That southern accent of his was certainly grating on your already thin nerves.
"Because I lack my twin's fun-loving temperament and all-around more reasonable nature," You replied. "Move aside and take me to my family or I shall skin you alive and tear each strand of sinus from your muscles one by one as I weave them into a nice rug."
Damon snorted. "Could you at least make me into a tapestry? I always wanted to be one of those."
"This is the only warning I will give," You ground out, eyes narrowed.
He scoffed. "Come at me, short-ass."
The insult was entirely his mistake. 
You rushed at him, dodging right at the last second to avoid his attempt to grab you. Snatching his arm for balance, you angled your feet to the wall of the cave and pushed off. That initial push supplied you with enough momentum to cartwheel your tiny body over his shoulders. Your weight combined with the force you applied, threw him off balance and you took the opportunity to drive your elbow firmly into his skull as soon as you were solidly back on the ground. Damon reeled in pain but you didn't give him time to think. You swept your leg around and kicked his own out from under him, sending him crashing to the cave floor.
You knelt on his chest and met his eyes.
"Take me to my family," You ordered, impressing your will on his inferior mind.
The man smirked and tossed you off of him. You were sent stumbling and your back slammed into the side of the coffin you had awoken in. You blinked, shaking the slight daze away. What had happened? Why had your compulsion failed?
"Sorry, cupcake," Damon gloated, getting to his feet. "I had a vervain cocktail for breakfast."
"No matter." You shrugged and straightened up again. "I was simply intending to be nice. I should be thanking you. For now I can have a little fun without Elijah reprimanding me for it." 
You rushed him again and this time he was ready for you to evade his outstretched arms. He stepped to the right to counter you but this time you ducked and slid between his legs. Twisting around with all the agility of a coiled servant, you kicked him in the groin like the simple, prudent soul you were. Damon cursed and fell to one knee, glaring at you over his shoulder.
"That was cheap," He bit out, grimacing.
You shrugged. "That was practical," You replied, smirking primly. "And so is this."
Grabbing him by the wrist, you twisted his arm and pulled it around his back, pushing him over. You positioned your fingers to perfectly utilize the fulcrum point of that wrist as your shoved his hand forwards. Damon grunted and you grinned. Then you started breaking his fingers. One at a time. 
Snap!
Snap!
Snap!
The man cursed and screamed and you just giggled like the innocent little girl you had once been but were no longer.
Unfortunately, in your eagerness to take down the man in the black leather jacket, you had entirely forgotten about the two witches in the room.
"That's enough!" The younger one shouted. A searing pain ignited in your skull, prompting you to release your grip on the raven-haired man. You cried out clutching your skull as the other woman yelled:
"Motus!"
You were thrown back into a semi-damp wall of stone and held there by an invisible force. The pain in your head faded and your gaze snapped up, locking on Bonnie and her mother. You hissed, teeth-gnashing and eyes wild. You were tired and starving and miserable and cold and they were in your way. 
Then, a blur of motion startled you and before you could blink, a tall figure in a dark suit caught the elder woman by the throat and raised her into the air 
"Miss and Mrs. Bennett, I suggest you release my sister at once." Elijah's booming voice struck through the cavern and you grinned, turning your head to the door. There stood your brothers - well, two of them, anyway - and neither of them looked very amused. Klaus moved to intimidate the younger girl and Kol smirked as he delivered a few swift, bone-crunching kicks to Damon's ribs. 
You smiled wryly.
As it turned out, Klaus, Elijah, and Kol made for quite the menacing trio when the three of them stood together on something. You made a mental note to encourage them to agree more often. The magic pinning you to the wall faltered, the witch responsible having lost all her bravado along with most of her oxygen supply. You dropped to the ground, landing in a bit of an unceremonious heap. 
"Ugh! About time you three got here," You huffed, rolling your eyes as you brushed yourself off. 
"Apologies, sister," Kol grinned, finishing with Damon by snapping his neck before prancing over to you. "We had some urgent remodeling to take care of - you know how it goes." He tossed you something and you caught the object, inspecting it. The thing appeared to be a plastic bag containing… blood? 
Huh… how peculiar.
You shrugged and tore into it. The sweet nectar inside wasn't as fresh as you would have liked but beggars can't exactly be choosers now, can they?
"Don't ever presume to threaten my sister again. Do I make myself clear?" Elijah growled his tone a harsh bite emphasized by the glare Klaus cast between mother and daughter. Both women nodded vigorously and Elijah dropped the one he was strangling. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath and he turned to you, seeming to inspect your figure for injuries before speaking. "Are you unharmed, lítil víx?" He asked gently.
"I'm quite alright. Though, I most certainly would like to know whose fault is was that I fell into the hands of such incompetent brutes as these," You hummed, continuing to suck out the contents of the bag in your hands rather contentedly. Beside you, your twin brother smirked and threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you firmly into his side as he turned and started from the cave. The other two followed with Klaus making one last rather threatening gesture before taking up the rear. 
"I'm afraid it was Niklaus's regrettable negligence that allowed all of our coffins to be stolen," Elijah informed you.
Klaus made a strangled noise of offense. "It wasn't my fault!" He protested. "I was a little distracted with killing our father!"
"Father's dead?" You asked in surprise. Your siblings nodded. "Oh… Well good riddance."
"Thought you might say that. Now, don't you ever scare me like that again, darling. Understand?" Kol demanded, hugging you closer. Despite how he had been changed by your mother's curse, you could always be sure he would still care about you. No curse on the planet could change that.
"Ah yes," You agreed, rolling your eyes. "I'll try my very best to avoid being kidnapped while under the influence of a magical sleep in the near future."
Your twin brother poked you in the ribs in response to your wit.
"He's serious, love," Klaus added. "You nearly gave us a heart attack."
"Careful, Nik. Statements like those might lead one to think you have a heart," You chastened playfully.
The hybrid chuckled. "Only for you, love. Only for you."
"And for the occasional blonde, let us not forget," Elijah quipped, smirking to himself.
You giggled but your mirth didn't last long.
Stepping out of the mouth of the cave system, you were met with the blackness of night and air even colder than that of the cavern. Snow drifted from a dreary sky and you frowned, shivering. Discomfort weighed in your soul and you could feel it begin to grow just as frigid rime creeps along until it smothers a plant. You sighed. It was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 
Kol rubbed your arm comfortingly and leaned in close. "It'll be alright, Y/N. I'm right here. I may not have my magic, but I'm not leaving you and you won’t be alone this winter."
Yes, as always, it was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 
But at the very least you had your family.
No matter what, you would have your family. Always and Forever.
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