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archonsabyss · 3 months

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╰─..✶. [ Constellation of love ]

❒ pairing : zayne x fem!reader

❒ genre : romance! established relationship! hint of spice! minor angst w comfort!

❒ warnings : sexually suggestive! zayne is not the most expressive when it comes to sharing thoughts or feelings about himself (this does not apply to displays of physical affection, affirmation, your relationship on the whole)

❒ word count : 4.1k

─❒ authors note : ironic how caleb was my inspiration and driving force to write for Love and Deepspace, only for my first fic to be about zayne. this was inspired by the song "I'm Yours" -the script

His shift had ended over an hour ago, yet he remained ensconced within the unadorned walls of his mundane enclosure as the hands of the wall clock kept pace with his thudding heart. Apart from that, there was a serene stillness.

It fascinated him to an extent how this silence created room for such intense thoughts that he could almost hear his anxiety of longing; that he could almost see the reflective daze of enamorment flickering in his eyes as he looked through the expansive window, not perceiving a city nor the alignment of lights stretching across the earth, but envisioning your face and that incredibly bewitching smile.

Carved into his recollections were the smallest of details of your features— the asymmetrical dance of your smile where one lip ascended slightly higher; the delicate lines adorning your nose with its subtle scrunch; and the way your eyes neither exaggeratedly rounded nor formed tiny creases.

It was a sight he so dearly missed, but even with that profound sense of longing he still could not find the courage to retrieve his phone, dial your number, and confess the sentiment aloud. The mere contemplation of it brought about a dainty blush to the apples of his cheeks, a sensation almost bordering on embarrassment and so he closed his eyes and tried to vividly recreate your portrait from memory, only he soon realised the futility as it could never truly rival the sight of you in person. Still, he persisted because he wished nothing more than to see your broad smile with his own eyes and revel in the melody of your joyous laughter.

It takes him a lot longer than he would have preferred but eventually a blurred image manages to take shape and although it's somewhat hazy and not immediately discernable, he can well enough capture the essence of what's unfolding.

He sees the dance of your fingers sliding across his palm and intertwining with his, just before you pull him through the crowds with energy he can't quite relate to. You cast him a few glances now and then to ensure he remains right behind you, even though your firm grip on his hand already keeps him close.

The scene seamlessly morphs into a setting that feels strangely familiar to him. It reveals itself to be his bedroom, with those unmistakably moody grey walls you've suggested he decorate with portraits or perhaps a contemporary strand of fairy lights. A suggestion you eventually gave up figuring it might not suit his style. Little did you know his search history was brimming with room decorating ideas and his online cart packed with items you've recommended, hoping you'd approve the next time you visit. And so he sees you both standing in the middle of his room with your hand cradling his face and your thumb gently tracing circles on his cheeks.

It's sweet. A modest gesture that has him reminiscing of the times it actually happened, and he believes this may be where his daydream concludes. But in a sudden turn of events, the scene shifts abruptly and he's still standing at the centre of his room, only there's no longer any distance between you and him as his lips are fervently connected to yours in a flurry of provoked passion.

Behind his closed eyelids, his pupils are shaking as he witnesses the screenplay of your hands clutching his collar while your shirt drapes just below your shoulders. The expanse of skin from your earlobe to your breasts, and the distinct outline of your bra straps captivate him to an extent where his mouth salvates as he watches the version of himself in his dreams, move you backwards until the back of your knees meet the edge of his bed and you topple down, bringing him along with you.

Zayne managed to catch his weight before it crushed you by extending a hand out to connect with the mattress all while keeping the kiss intact and it is the course of moans emanating from your throat after he does that forces him to snap back into reality and confront the repercussions of his wandering mind.

The pounding of his heart stirs up a droning noise in his ears that is so unmistakably audible, that they practically sing in delight as his embarrassment draws out a shaky breath from his lips.

Zayne blinked his widened eyes at the provocative thoughts and placed a hand over his mouth in sheer disbelief, feeling the seething heat emanating from his face beyond his control while the tips of his ears burned with a blend of warmth and self-awareness.

"Pull yourself together," He monotones to himself as several minutes pass him where his senses traverse along the plains of questioning his dignity.

He grapples with the shame of his desperation for you that he remains unaware of the door to his office opening and closing, as well as the rhythmic clicking of footsteps approaching him just as your voice emerges with a murmured greeting, and your arms envelop his waist, prompting him to startle and turn on his feet ready to have a word with whoever dared to initiate such intimacy. But his apprehension quickly dissipates upon realizing it's you.

As if anyone else would ever have the guts to initiate physical touch with him, of all people.

"Missed me" You grinned up at him and there's that breathtaking smile of yours that has haunted his every thought for the entire day.

He hums in response to your question knowing his feelings better conveyed themselves through actions, and so he reaches out to delicately grasp your chin between his thumb and index finger and descends upon your lips with his own in a kiss that feels like a reenactment of the inception of his less-than-innocent daydream.

It's a kiss with a superiority that far surpasses the one shared in his thoughts by such a considerable margin and he indulges himself with utmost care in the way his mouth moves against yours.

His lips are soft as they nibble and tenderly envelop your lower one. The kiss is far from being only intricate with the amount of exploring tongues that delve into every crevice of each other's mouths. The saliva mingles and coats your lips at an exceptionally slow and gentle pace, creating a faint blend of moisture as the kisses smack with the occasional muted suctioning.

You're so lost in each other, that you lose track of time until the necessity to pull back for air arises. You take note that your lungs were not as adept at holding prolonged breaths at a time, as his were.

As you retreat, the realization settles upon you that you were only moments away from taking it somewhere else. Your cheeks flush with a heat under the intense gaze emanating from his eyes that peer at you through the glass of his spectacles.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, the resonance of his deep, husky voice echoing in your ears and inciting the butterflies within your stomach to run a mock.

Had you been anyone else you likely would have recoiled beneath the icy and distant timbre of his voice, misinterpreting the straightforward tone and failing to notice the underlying concern that hinted in his eyes.

"We haven't seen each other for afew days. Didn't you miss me orworry about me?" You teased.

"The weather was nice and judging by your flood of messages you must have been fine without me. Though I'd like to know why you arrived without texting me in advance."

"I missed you"

He tilts his head, denying the way his heart leapt at the confession. "What if I had already gone home?"

He steps back to create a bit of distance without raising your suspicion as he quite honestly needs a moment to quell his tumultuous heart before he takes you into his arms, which inevitably he will do again but only after he gets himself under control. Zayne casts a brief glance in your direction as he rounds his desk and begins to collect the scattered sheets of paper and neatly stack them, feigning busyness.

"I took my chances and would you look at that, I walked into your office to find you exactly where I had hoped you'd be" You remarked, watching as he perused through documents

"That was reckless of you," He chimed with a small disapproving shake of his head. "What if I wasn't here? All the money you spent on transportation would have been a waste. Not to mention it is quite late and you're out alone at night."

"Oh you're such a worrywart" You dismissed with a roll of your eyes, "Give me a break will you, Love? It's enough dealing with Caleb and Grandma as is and now you too. Besides, I was on my way to your apartment when I remembered to call you, but of course, you didn't answer and so I contacted the hospital and they mentioned Dr Zayne was still in despite his shift ending─" You looked down at your wrist-watch, "Almost four hours ago"

"Either way─"

You interrupt him by reaching over the desk and placing a finger on his lips to silence him. "If you're going to pretend you're not happy to see me I can always leave, and then both the money and coming here would be an actual waste"

It was hard to get his final say when you inadvertently threatened him with the possibility of leaving, knowing it was his weakness as of right now. That alone was enough to have him seal his mouth shut and accept the situation.

You practically radiate with approval as he simply gives in without a further fight.

Zayne let out a deep sigh as he settled into his seat and pushed aside whatever papers remained in the middle. He observed you from across the desk and gave a small tilting gesture with his head, hoping you'd read between the unspoken lines and figure out what he wanted without him having to explicitly state it. Fortunately for him, you did.

You left your bag behind on the opposite end of his desk as you circled it to reach him.

He slid back and swivelled to the side, his legs parting in invitation.

Your gaze falls to his lap as you halt in your steps, a flush creeping across your face upon noticing the bulge that presses against the fabric of his pants and Zayne's unfazed expression. He simply raises a brow and boldly takes your hand, leading you to perch on his lap.

An unusual shyness takes over you even though it's not the first time you've sat on his lap. Perhaps it's the solitude of being alone in his work environment with the romantic view of a thousand stars and the glow of man-made lights illuminating the world beyond the window.

"Why exactly haven't you gone home yet?" You whisper tenderly as your fingers trace over the noticeable dark circles beneath his eyes framed by the metallic obsidian of his glasses. "You look exhausted"

You touched these tired eyes of mine

And mapped my face out line by line

And somehow growing old feels fine

He worries if he should succumb to his vulnerability and confess the truth, or retort with something dismissive. But he decides to rid himself of questioning everything and leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as you cradle his face.

"What's on your mind, Zayne"

Listen close for I'm not smart

He feels your hands leave his face, and he's about to voice a complaint when he senses his spectacles sliding off his face, followed by a brief pause and then the unmistakable feeling of your lips leisurely planting kisses on the bridge of his nose, his forehead, and the dark circles beneath his eyes.

You wrap your thoughts in works of art

And they're hanging on the walls of my heart

Despite their roughness, his hands display the utmost gentleness when he holds your sides and the feeling your touch evokes makes his fingers press with a reassuring weight into your hips to anchor himself in the moment.

I may not have the softest touch

I may not say the words as such

And though I may not look like much

"Talk to me" You encourage. Your voice, like the delicate touch of flower petals falling. His ears are attuned and he blinks his eyes open, directly locking gazes with you. Ever so slightly they soften and his eyebrows unfurrow, the side of his lips raising with subtle visibility and he's sure as the dawn, understanding like never before with a knowledge he's never embraced prior.

I'm yours

He's yours

Zayne smiles at the thought, and even though you've been fortunate enough to witness it more than anyone else it will never cease to be a welcomed delight. You can't quite pinpoint why his aura appears more at ease now but you have no intention of complaining. He leans his face closer to yours, his eyes demanding a reaction while his hand places on the side of your head causing you to direct your gaze to his tie.

"Have you gotten into any trouble lately" His voice, dripping with honey, lowers as he speaks to you.

You shake your head with furrowed brows in response to his inquiry.

"I'm not always out looking for trouble!" You retort.

"No, but it seems drawn to you, and hence, it finds you"

"My trouble magnet must not be that strong considering it seems ineffective against a certain kind of trouble."

He arches a single, incredibly attractive brow. "Are you implying I'm trouble?"

"Am I?"

"I wouldn't grasp the meaning even if you did Love. I'm far too occupied with work to find myself in any sort of trouble, and it would seem my hands are tied dealing with a little troublemaker of my own. Besides, I don't reckon two troublemakers would make a balanced couple, would they now"

"So you're implying I'm the trouble one between us?"

"Not at all" He fails to hide the amusement from peaking out through the smirk that tilts his lips. "I just believe you're quite the allure to things not entirely safe."

"Oh, is this some kind of insinuation as well?" You scrunch your nose. "Not entirely safe as in...?"

A pregnant pause hangs in the air as silence cuts through. Suddenly, it hits you, and you snap your head at him with wide eyes, your jaw dropping in disbelief. "Oh."

He chuckles, poking your forehead. "You talk too much."

"You talk too little!"

"Do you want me to talk more?"

"Yes. No... Yes..." You groan, covering your eyes with your hand. "Don't ask me questions like that."

"Want to hear my voice that much?" The smug tone in his voice accompanies that breath-stealing smirk as he pries your hand from your eyes and kisses your knuckles.

"This is exactly what getting into trouble feels like," You mutter under your breath. "You're fucking trouble. I think I need my heart checked. As a doctor, you're causing more damage than healing"

For dramatic effect, you accelerate your breathing and pretend to heave for air while clutching your heart.

"Your condition is incurable," Zayne slips his arm around your waist and draws you flush against him until your noses touch. "You can't get rid of me so easily."

"Seems you're doing that on your own though" He becomes more attentive upon hearing the sigh you exert afterwards, and the air tenses ever so slightly.

"What does that mean, Angel?"

"Don't think I forgot how you evaded my questions earlier."

"It is nothing"

"Mhm, nothing as in something?"

"It is nothing to concern yourself with" He withdraws.

"I won't pry for now, but perhaps you should head home and get some sleep. You looked more exhausted than usual."

"I'm fine."

"You should still go home."

"I'd rather not."

"Why?"

"You're prying."

"I'm concern-ing"

"That's not how the word is meant to be used," He corrects, and you're on the verge of exploding when you muster a fake smile, relenting with exaggerated sarcasm, "I'm expressing concern. Happy now?"

"Thrilled," He deadpans, and you pinch his cheek causing him to glare at you.

"So you don't want to go home"

"I did not say that"

"You're unusually stubborn, especially when it involves something you don't want to disclose. So why the reluctance to go home?" You pointed it out knowingly.

Zayne remains silent in response to your questions, his lips tightly sealed as his thoughts delve into the depths of contemplation. It has neared an hour and a half since your arrival that dispelled the loneliness that took hold of him, and he hesitates to provide any reason for you to leave. He knows that sharing his worries will give you every reason to stay and never leave his side, but he grapples with the discomfort that opening up about his internal struggles could bring. The prospect of delving into his emotions and sharing them with you raises uncertainties about the potential outcomes, creating a hesitant barrier in his mind.

For him, it's something seemingly insignificant yet deeply personal. For someone who has dedicated their entire life to saving others and dealing with countless individuals and their distinct reactions, this internal struggle appears unusually challenging.

In that moment, it's you, nestled on his lap offering him the world through just your touch and your unconditional love for him. A soul poised between a state of simple and unadorned equilibrium. Someone who admitted a thousand times over how much they missed him, how much they loved him, how insatiable the longing for his presence was, they were all woven together by a thread of love and your shyness and nervous anticipation.

His long slender fingers touch your cheeks, his mind teetering towards admittance.

"I've somehow lost touch with the experience of solitude" He states, though he appears entirely lost in a world of his own. "I've missed you"

His hand drifts lower, parting your lips with his thumb. "Going to a place without you there seemed pointless. Calling it home when your presence is absent makes it feel empty. And so I chose to stay back and wait until my exhaustion reached a point where returning to my apartment wouldn't leave me yearning for you constantly"

And though my edges may be rough

"I must admit this is a foreign feeling to me, and while it is not as awkward as I anticipated, it does cause a bit of embarrassment. I feel as though I come across as excessively reliant on you, as if I lack emotional independence"

I never feel I'm quite enough

I may not seem like very much

But I'm yours

"This feels like the most you've ever talked to me despite knowing each other for almost our entire lives" You smiled, holding back a sob as tears welled up in your eyes and he found your reaction puzzling, wondering about the reason behind it.

He is unaware of the significance this holds for you and your relationship. His confession carries substantial weight, revealing feelings he has guarded closely all this time. These emotions kept hidden for so long are something you've gently encouraged him to share, trying not to press too hard or pry them out of him but aiming to help him unburden himself. It feels as though the red string of fate has finally begun to extend a bit further, as if the stars now align and connect, finally crossing the barriers they once held, bringing the ends together at long last.

Your love is deeply passionate and intertwined, much like those red strings, and your love is written in the constellations of those stars that run far across the galaxy.

"Why are you crying, Angel"

Your quivering smile reveals the acknowledgment in your heart. You nod as if agreeing to his every word, freeing yourself from restraint and allowing the tears to flow as he gently brushes them away with the pads of his thumbs.

You healed these scars over time

Embraced my soul, you loved my mind

"You do know you just indirectly asked me to move in with you, don't you?" You chuckled breathlessly, joy accompanying the sentimental realization.

Zayne's mouth forms an 'oh'... "I didn't consider it from that perspective, but I suppose it amounts to the same thing."

Your grin spreads so wide that it's uncontrollable your cheeks ache from the happiness. Zayne carefully wipes away the remainder of your tears and seals the moment with a tender kiss that erases its every trace. He then pats your thigh which signals you to rise from his lap so he can stand up.

He leans down to your height with his left hand resting on his desk and the other cupping your face once again.

"It's entirely up to you." His whispered exhale caresses your lips, his eyes boring into yours. "I desire you more than anything. Should you decide to agree, you'll have me more frequently than my work permits."

"You'd divorce your work for me?"

He dismisses your teasing with a slight shake of his head and a hint of a smile, "Unbelievable. But if that's what you would like to think of it..."

"The idea sounds quite domestic," You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'd love to have you all to myself every second you're at home, to the point where you might even get annoyed with me. But─ I wouldn't want to entirely pull you away from your work – work that helps people and has been one of the reasons I fell in love with you. I'll be content enough just to have you return home to me afterwards every night"

His heart rate undeniably quickens, evident in the pulsing of his neck and the shallowness of his breathing. You release your arms from around his neck and tend to the details of his appearance, straightening his collar and adjusting his tie.

"Besides," You add, "I love seeing you in your lab coat; it's insanely attractive"

Zayne presses a kiss to your cheek before trailing down to the sensitive area beneath your ear, a sense of excitement coursing through his veins as he envisions the promising future. In an instant, the prospect of returning to his apartment becomes highly anticipated, and the allure of his bed grows even more irresistible.

He swiftly gathers his phone and essentials as you pick up your bag and wait for him near the door. As he finishes, he approaches, noticing your outstretched hand and arching an eyebrow.

"What's with that expression?" You wrinkle your nose at the way he's eyeing your hand. "You worried your colleagues will see us holding hands?"

"On the contrary, I'd prefer if they saw it," he responds, taking your hand and interlocking your fingers.

"Then?"

He adorably tilts his head glasses once again perched on the bridge of his nose as you open the door, and he follows, "This is- quite a twist to how I imagined my day would unfold."

"It's only the beginning. You're in for a weekend of sprucing up your apartment with me," You playfully announce. "While I appreciate the modern aesthetic, I think you need something that feels more like a home."

"What have I gotten myself into" He muses, shaking his head, but deep down he harbours no regret, no wish for anything different – he'd have it no other way because the minute he heard your words, 'feel more like a home', it's like you knew him and what resided at his core, and a home with you is everything he longed for. Now, hand in hand, it's finally within reach.

"Hey, Zayne..."

He emits a soft hum as you cast a glance over your shoulder while he observes the illuminated numbers above the elevator descending.

"Let's go home"

He grins with a radiance unseen before, his eyes aglow with newfound brilliance. Nodding in agreement, he echoes the warmth of the sentiment. "Home is where the heart is," knowing his heart rests in your delicate hands.

You're the only angel in my life

☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!

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mahboimahboi · 7 months

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reader getting absolutely destroyed by gojo, toji, getou, and nanami😇

A SEX FEST x M!Reader (featuring Getou, Gojo, Toji)

Smut

As the phone rang that was seated on top of the table, Gojo whistles to a tune he created on the spot as he picked up the phone and placed the it near his ear. "Hello~ This is Gojo speaking." He spoke in a singy-song voice as a light chuckle moves past his lips.

"Oh, Mr. Gojo, good morning. I would like to ask if Y/N is with you? He told me that he would be there at your house for a very important tutor lesson." A boy's voice spoke from the other end of the line as Gojo begins to play with the telephone's cable, twirling it around his finger.

One side of Gojo's lips move upward upon hearing your name, as he kept his composure and spoke as poised as he can, being known as one of the most prim and proper teacher in their school. "Yes, he is." He replied, eyeing the scene unfolding on his bed through the side of his eyes.

"Oh, can I have him over the phone please? I would just like to talk to him about something." The male spoke, Gojo's smirk just growing wider, if possible.

Gojo pops his tongue and replies with sinister laced in his voice. "Of course, give me a minute."

He passes the phone over to you, whilst you covered your mouth trying to restrict any sound of sex satisfied noise from ever coming out of your mouth as Toji holds you down in place like you are some kind of sex toy or fleshlight, drilling his cock in you roughly. "R-Ryuuji? What is it?" You tried to answer the phone with all the strength left in you, but you accidentally drop the phone as Toji pulls your body back towards him, Gojo getting the phone from where it fell and ends the call after telling your brother that you are busy. "F-Fuck, yes, sir. Fuck me, fuck me good!" You moaned out, rolling your eyes to the back of your head, your eyes hanging out of your mouth in pure bliss.

"Huu, yes, kiddo. I'll fucking give you what you want." Toji groans out, gritting his teeth as he fastened his pace, his strong arms holding you in place, your own strengh nothing compared to his, letting yourself just melt into lust and left your body to be used at his own advantage. "That's what I love about you, kid. You're a really good cum dumpster." He degrades you, the word enough to drive you crazy as you felt a very familiar coil in your stomach.

"S-Sir! AH, FUCK! NNGGH! I'M CUMMING!!" You let out, holding onto the adult male's biceps, but your pleasure is not long lived when you feel something wrap around the base of your cock, making you whimper as your climax got rejected. "N-No! NNYAH!" You moan in pleasure, but the noises was too much for Getou that he pulls your head by your hair and inserts his fat dick in your mouth to cover the irritating sounds coming out of your mouth.

"Didn't actually perceive you as a person who likes noisy bitches like this slut, Toji." Getou comments as the male starts to fuck your mouth without even giving you a proper warning, holding onto your throat with one hand. "Hm, fuck. Well, I say this one's a little different. Bitch knows how to use his mouth." He said, howling in pleasure when you start twirling your tongue around his thick rod. Getou pushes his head back, letting Toji's thrusts be a moderator to your head sucking his cock.

"Careful boys. I still haven't had my turn yet." Gojo stated, pushing down the glasses he had on a little as he smirks, finding your fucked up state a total turn on. It is as though you are purposely seducing him, which you are. You tap on Getou's thigh to signal him that you wanted to say something, the male groaning in annoyance as he pulled out.

"S-Sir Gojo, my ass still feels empty even w-with sir Toji's cock in me." You said, which made Toji stop his movements, his pride being stepped on at your words. He lets out a dark chuckle, dropping his head low. "Please, fill me up, sir Go—AAH!" You're cut through your words when Toji suddenly starts fucking you roughly, practically just vibrating in your place.

"You fucking slut! You could have just asked Gojo, not say shitty words and hurt my ego." Toji grunted in anger, using you to let his frustration out. I mean you are the reason he is angry right now, so you basically deserved getting your brain completely fucked out.

Gojo stifles a laugh before he joins you, Getou, and Toji in bed. "Don't worry, hon. We'll have our own little fun time once their done with you." Gojo smirks, before he got out of the bed and moves towards his own room, leaving you to be a mess with his co-teachers.

#bottom male reader #male reader #x male reader #requests #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #gojo x male reader #gojo saturo #toji fushiguro #toji x male reader #getou suguru #getou x male reader

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mangomonk · 8 months

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i thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me

↳ summary: read this drabble first! goodie two shoes!remus, afraid of being perceived as other, stumbles into a relationship at the expense of y/n. ↳ content: angst, one-sided fake dating ↳ a/n: a little nervous because this is my first time writing for remus pls be gentle w me! for full enjoyment, listen to ivy by frank ocean (i looped it the entire time i wrote this). the more i wrote this, the more i realized i could turn this into a full blown million word fic, but i tried to keep it as condensed as possible, hence some time skips/summarization. pt. 2 here!

When Remus Lupin confesses — no, announces — that he likes her in the middle of the Great Hall, she thinks she's dreaming. Surely, she didn't hear that correctly. Only hours earlier, she had witnessed the doe-eyed boy unleash a slew of curses beneath his breath. I guess everyone has bad days, she had thought. Even Remus, who she had always pegged as straight-laced and well-mannered.

So when a half a dozen heads turn to stare at her directly, Y/N turns to see if there's anyone behind her. When she sees no one, she turns back forward. It's when Remus Lupin's soft, brown gaze meets hers that her heart stutters dangerously in her chest. She can't help it despite the bewilderment she feels — everyone in the castle has to have some sort of crush on the fluffy-haired boy. He's all soft, disarming smiles and beautiful, brown eyes and knitted jumpers and gentle laughter and—

—and Y/N goes red in the face right away. It doesn't help when Remus tilts his head to the side slightly and offers a small, uncertain smile. Merlin, help me, Y/N thinks as she stares back, wide-eyed, her confusion and any thoughts briefly neutralized at the way his eyes crinkle into little half-moons.

— — — — —

Y/N has always prided herself on being a sharp judge of character. It soon became clear to her, however, that Remus Lupin was a strange, but intriguing case of contradicting character.

Following his confession — rather, announcement — in the Great Hall, she becomes overly conscious of the tall boy. It feels as though she's suddenly very aware that they have most of their classes together, that he sits only a seat away from her in Charms, that he has chicken scratch for handwriting when she passes him in the library. The latter comes as a surprise — perhaps unfairly, she would have pegged him as a swooping cursive type of boy. In any case, it soon becomes the case that Y/N realizes that she can find Remus easily in a room of crowded students, and the more she does, the more she begins to realize that Remus is a boy full of surprises.

This doesn't seem to matter though, because strangely, after his confession in the Great Hall, Remus does not once approach her. Occasionally, she catches him glancing at her with an odd expression, but outside of an increase in being stared at by the other students, little changes in her life.

It isn't until a week later when her seat partner in Charms is out that their paths cross again. When she trudges to her seat in class, she becomes very quickly aware that they're separated only by an empty chair. She doesn't look away fast enough because Remus looks up as she pulls her chair out, his gaze snagging on to hers with an intensity that she doesn't expect from the softness of his eyes.

"Good morning," he says slowly, almost uncertainly. Up close, Y/N can see a splay of pale freckles across his cheekbones. His lashes are unfairly, distractingly long as he gazes up at her.

"Hi," Y/N says, equally uncertain, though she tries to keep her voice light and casual. No one's ever really had a crush on her before, and she finds herself floundering on how to act. Shouldn't he be the nervous one, and not her? Somehow though, she can feel her palms begin to sweat, though Remus doesn't look nervous at all. Just sharp and assessing. Fortunately though, before the air between them can turn any awkwarder, a mussed-haired head pops up from around Remus.

"Y/N, right?" James Potter asks with a wide grin. His glasses are skewed and crooked on his face as he peers around Remus at her rather owlishly.

Next to him, Remus blinks a few times as she nods, opening her mouth to speak when Professor Flitwick clears his throat to begin class.

She tries to focus on taking notes, but it's difficult when she can see Remus casting her sidelong glances from her peripheral view. She gives up on trying to focus on class entirely when a folded piece of parchment flits over the gap between them with a familiar chicken scratch.

Can we talk after class?

After class, Y/N has a ridiculous, irrational flash of self-consciousness that the humidity has made her hair begin to frizz. Remus doesn't seem to notice as she rakes a hand quickly through her hair because a nervous, almost agitated, energy is rolling off of him as he paces in the courtyard.

When he catches sight of her, he stops, a warm smile breaking across his face, though Y/N feels that it doesn't quite reach his eyes. But the new knowledge that Remus has a dimple on his left cheek and his smile is just slightly crooked is enough to disarm any wariness. Unexpectedly his nervous energy seems to dissipate immediately. "Hi," he says, "You came."

"I got your note," Y/N says, inwardly grimacing — of course he knew that already, he had been sitting next to her.

"Right, well, I, er—" Remus begins choppily, his hand rising to rub at the nape of his neck. "I was wondering about... Earlier, last week, when you saw me... Did you say anything to anyone?"

Y/N blinks at him once, then twice, blankly. "Earlier?" She questions, before the heat begins to rise to her face. He must have been referring to his confession. "I haven't said anything to anyone."

Remus's brows furrow for a moment before his face relaxes. He's surprisingly difficult to read — it feels as though any trickle of emotion is covered with a disarming soft smile. "I see," he says after a moment, his shoulders relaxing. "Right, well, Y/N," he begins, looking around them distractedly. "—shall we date?" Y/N straightens with a jolt as he continues. "I won't be offended if you say no. In fact, I'd understand if you said no, we've barely—"

She doesn't know what it is exactly. Maybe it was the curious thought that Remus might not be the charming prince he seemed to be. Maybe it was the dimple in his left cheek. Maybe it was the way he said her name. But something in Y/N slipped through her confusion and the unceremonious nature of the whole thing, because she finds herself speaking before she can stop herself. "Yeah. Let's date."

Remus's face goes slack. He looks a little startled, Y/N thinks, like she's clubbed him over the head. "Are you sure?" He blurts, eyes widening a fraction. It's perhaps the most emotion she's seen him show so far. Y/N writes it off as nerves and incredulity.

She nods once, firmly.

"I guess that's settled," he says weakly with furrowed brows, though he looked neither pleased nor displeased.

— — — — —

Initially, Y/N and Remus are as awkward as can be. She's not sure if it's because neither of them have really ever been in a relationship before, but it feels clumsy in the beginning.

Their dates start off mostly as study dates in the library, but Y/N doesn't mind — to her pleasure, she finds that they eerily work well together and she likes the calm peace of Remus's presence while she's studying. She likes to think that he also finds comfort in her presence because it's become ritual for him to ask her about the book she's reading, and vice versa. In a few weeks, they start reading the same books. Maybe it's because they spend so much time together studying that it becomes gradually more comfortable.

When they go to Hogsmeade for the first time together, Y/N finds that they end up walking around the village and chatting nearly until curfew. She tells him about what it's like growing up with three brothers — "It doesn't seem very different from the Marauders," Remus observes with a wry laugh — and he tells her stories of how despite moving around periodically during his child, his mother always found a little corner in the yard to start an herb garden.

He does all the things she'd imagine a boyfriend might — Remus is a gentleman, expectedly. He holds the door open for her, gives her his jumper when there was a draft in the library, walks her back to the Common Room at night.

But, unexpectedly, it isn't Remus's soft smiles or considerate aura that Y/N finds herself straining to see. But it was when he threw his head back and laughed himself breathless at James holding his wand on the wrong end that Y/N found it impossible to tear her eyes away from him. Or when he shot her a dour look the first time she teased him on his illegible chicken scratch. Or when Remus cursed like a sailor when he knocked his ink pot over onto his parchment because he was always so uncoordinated and graceless.

It was perhaps impossible not to fall in love with Remus Lupin. Though maybe she already knew this from the start when he first looked at her, and even more so the first time he said her name.

She liked the way he would groan and complain and grumble as he stretched out his lithe limbs in preparation of helping Peter with his essay that he had procrastinated on, even after she could see the exhaustion begin to pool under his pretty eyes. She liked that he could silence the boys with just one baleful look. She liked the way he fell asleep on his books when he thought no one was looking. She liked his dry remarks and his wolfish grin and his grumpy mood. She liked all the rough edges that Remus showed her when he would forget to put up a soft smile.

It was too easy to love Remus Lupin, though it seemed like he didn't know that himself.

It only takes four full moons for Y/N to understand what the Marauders meant whenever they quietly referred to Remus's furry little problem. In the first place, they weren't always discreet — it was easy for them to forget she was there when she was studying in the background. In the second place, Remus would apologetically cancel their studying plans around the same time each month, and he would disappear for a few days and come back exhausted with fresh scars. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together, really.

But while she understood why he didn't tell her, she couldn't help but give him a tighter hug when she realized.

"Something wrong, love?" He had asked, reaching up to caress the back of her hair as she squeezed his abdomen.

"No," she had mumbled into his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent. She could feel affection swell inside her so violently she felt a little dizzy as she gave him another squeeze. "Just wish I could always be hugging you."

"No one's stopping you," Remus had responded dryly. She smiled into his chest as he rested his chin on the crown of her head. "Certainly not me."

— — — — —

When Y/N tries to discreetly deliver a small care package of chocolate and books a few nights before the next full moon, she accidentally overhears Peter ask James when Remus was ending his fake relationship.

"I doubt it'll raise any suspicions now that no one's pestering him about not having a girlfriend," she hears Peter say.

James makes a noncommittal sort of noise. "You know how Remus is about these things. He's always on edge that someone will think he's the odd one out—"

She feels like the ground beneath her has stuttered and shifted into an open chasm as her mind whirls to make sense of their conversation. For a moment, she thinks she's wrong, but like it was with Remus's furry little problem, if she thinks back on the stranger moments of the past four months, it's not difficult to piece it together. She begins to feel a little ill.

How many times did he force himself to smile at her stories? How many times after walking her back to the Common Room at night did he sigh with relief when she left? How many times did he wait for other students to be around to hold her hand? All the heart-fluttering moments she had thought had been magical and wonderful and incredible with Remus had been entirely one-sided. How humiliating. She feels used and dirty and pathetic, but the worse thing is that she can't feel angry.

She doesn't know how long she stands paralyzed outside, just that it's difficult to breathe or think properly. All she can feel is a numbing ache in her chest, and the feeling tightens when she hears a familiar voice behind her.

"Hmm?" Remus hums, a smile breaking across his face. The dimple in his left cheek appears briefly. "What are you doing here, love?" When she doesn't respond, he steps closer to her and peers at her face carefully, his big, brown eyes soft. "What's wrong?" He asks, gently looping his arms around her waist. Y/N goes perfectly still under his touch. "I knew you'd be studying for the Ancient Runes exam all day, so got some cakes from the kitchen for—"

"Remus," she interrupts suddenly, her throat gone cottony and dry as she raises her gaze to finally look at him. It sends a sharp pang through her chest again. "Are we ever going to kiss?"

Bizarrely, scarlet splotches appear swiftly on the high points of Remus's cheek as his eyes widen a fraction. "Kiss," he repeats, sounding strangled as he stares at her wide-eyed, looking as though she had clubbed him over the head. "You want to kiss?" He asks after a moment, his voice hoarse as his eyes flicker down to her lips.

"Do you want to kiss me?" She asks quietly, watching his throat bob as he swallows thickly.

"I've wanted to since—" Remus says softly, a little nonsensically, his eyes darting back down to her lips. His pupils are blown wide and dark as he swallows, his throat bobbing. “Y/N,” he murmurs, and she can feel his breath brush against her nose. She tries to control the thumping in her chest as he slowly leans in and raises his hand to cup her face. Remus looks down at her with a sweet adoration she knows cannot be real. She's seen this sort of soft look from him countless times before and now she knows better than anyone that it's just another cover. Perhaps it was perfectly clear since the start, but she had let herself get swept away with naive hope. The start of nothing. She feels like a fool.

Remus's head ducks slightly as the space between them closes. Y/N goes perfectly still as she watches his other hand rise, his fingers trembling a little as they reach to curve around her jaw.

For a moment, she entertains the thought and wonders what would happen if she just closes her eyes. She could close her eyes, could lean in and feel his eyelashes brush her cheek, could let him kiss her senseless. It would be so easy. It scares her a little how much she wants that.

Before she can betray herself, Y/N closes her hand around his wrist. “You can stop now,” she says, her voice low and steadier than she felt.

Remus freezes, his dazed expression crumpling in confusion. She takes a steadying breath, swallowing back the bile in her throat as she schools her expression with difficulty. Y/N places his wrist back down away from her face and lets go as she continues, despite the dull ache in her chest. “I wanted to know how far you would go,” she continues quietly. “How far you thought I would be willing to go.”

“I don’t understand—” Remus begins, a myriad of stricken dismay, alarm, and something else flickering across his face. For a moment, she thinks it’s the residue of desire, but she quickly remembers how good of an actor Remus is, and doesn’t let herself entertain that thought that it’s anything else besides panic for being caught.

"I know you're just using me," Y/N says, her throat dry. Her voice, to her mortification, cracks and comes out as a croak. Any sense of anger deflates immediately and all she can feel is this crumbling sense of defeat. “I should have known that something was strange when you suddenly confessed. We had never even really talked before that. I mean, I thought that I was dreaming when you said you liked me—"

“No, it's because—”

"I know why you did it," she whispers. Remus freezes, the color draining from his face. "The worse part of all this is that I can't find it in myself to hate you for using me. But I had just thought that you didn’t think so little of me as to…” She doesn’t finish as she stares down at the space between them, swallowing thickly. She feels ill. The last sentence had come out before she realized it. So that was what it was — disappointment.

"Did you even know my name before James said it?" She asks with a bark of a forced laugh as she straightens, setting her shoulders now though she still has a difficult time looking directly at him.

Remus swallows thickly as he steps forward. His pause is enough of an answer. "Let me explain,” he begins quickly, his words tumbling out in a frantic mess. “Y/N, wait,” he starts, reaching out.

“Don’t touch me, Lupin,” she says dejectedly, stepping away from him. Remus flinches and freezes, his expression falling, but she can't bring herself to look at him in the eye anymore. Y/N stares at the worn patch of carpet by her shoe as she swallows thickly before turning to leave. "You can tell everyone that you broke up with me if it helps you."

— — — — —

a/n: thx for reading! pt. 2 here my masterlist here

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astrophileblogs07 · 2 months

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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT.20

⚫ Opposite to the stereotype of Leo being a narcissist, its the Aquarians who are more narcissist than ANY other zodiac. Esp its the Dhanishta naks out of the Aqua naks who are so.

⚫ I have seen 3 Aquarian moons (of Dhanishta nak) who had a poverty stricken first half of life (childhood, teenage years) but then they become well off like rlly very well off in their second half (esp after marriage). They marry rich 🤑 too. What i am saying here is the dramatic transformation of their financial life.

⚫ Pisces men are physically abusive. That's it. Esp the March Pisces. They literally are a bully. (Dont be fooled by the beautiful doe eyes lol)

⚫ "WOW What voluminous and luscious hair he's got!" -my ♌ rising and moon mom commenting on a side character with insignificant role in a movie 🤣. I wasn't noticing that at all...but she seemed to be stuck on that feature 😂.

⚫ Martian influence on a chart can actually have a liking to dangerous weapons and ammunitions. (Like idk I weirdly love them 😂😂)

⚫ Females with Ketu ruled naks are the first group of people whom male perceive as "threat". (Second is mars btw). Like if the other person is a typical male (egoistic, chauvinist) they will literally hate you to the core coz they know you equal them in all ways (except you know what LMAO 🤣). So they'll try to pin you down or belittle you etc. (sad, but since I have experienced I wanted it to share w you guys)

⚫ Also I love the way Ketu Nak women get along becoz mostly they have so much in common. And by that I mean how the society (male dom) treats them. I am not saying they're an "outcast" but the reaction they face just coz the male species get intimidated by us which has an cascading effect on our mental peace is beyond tolerance.

⚫Ketu naks are sexyyyyyy 🖤👁️🫦👁️❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

(I always imagine a smokin hot biker girl 👩🏻‍🎤with leather jacket and smoky eyeshadow whenever I hear "Ashwini, Magha and Mula")

⚫ I have seen a Chart which was totally "Mars" chart and I'll tell you, that person has Aries asc, Moon, Mars and (Mercury ig is in Scorpio?idr) along with Scorpio sun. And that person is like personified version of the planet itself. So cunning and so shrewd, potentially be a mastermind. Statergic. Secretive af. (Might be their middle name to exaggerate). Close to their mom. Loves friends (friends over anything). Also they have a "reddish" tint to their skin (no health probs, but yeah that planet does that). Knows how to tackle any embarrassing moment in public and deal with it. (I am jealous of him coz i wanted to be like him in every way 😂)

⚫Lilith and Pluto aspects in natal chart can actually survive 8H synastry. Almost same energy and themes. 💀

⚫Why are Maghas the "scapegoat" of the family? Like they be framed in a situation with which they have no relation with. Its annoying to see. Its like you're locked in your room chilling and as soon as you step out, everyone in the family is blaming you for something or the other. Now you're the "bad guy". (Yo wtf 🤡). Added to the generosity of Leos, people target you often. 😕

⚫Libra men CANNOT stand loneliness and being ostracized at all in any way. I have seen this in every Libra I came across. For eg: if you're the "black sheep" they won't talk to you and will go with what the crowd says. And if people have outcasted them just becoz they're with you/involved with you, they'll drop you like hot potato. People say and stereotype Capricorns for being the one who cares about reputation and all, but her 'Venus-ruled-Saturn-exalted' sister also is same. 💀

(no wonder they're besties lol)

P.S: I read a post here which said "Eye contact with 8H synastry hits different" ( i am not copying, i don't remember the username) and boy is that true 💀💀💀. Like I was -->😯😳🫣. Coz I have experienced that 🤣🤣. It does, than any other eye contact I have seen. Lmao 🤣🤣.{Edit: its @zeldasnotes 🖤😁}

Hope you liked it 😁😊. Until next time! 👋🏻

Love you y'all ❤️❤️❤️

#astro observations #astro notes #astrology #astroblr #astrology community #astrology observations #astrology notes #natal chart #astrology tumblr #astro community

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percyluvr · 2 months

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hiii could i request a percy x daughter of zeus hcs? 🫶🏼 but my request would be that even though reader is crazy powerful she’s not at all what people would perceive as a “zeus kid” and is honestly laid back and just like percy

percy jackson x daughter of zeus!reader summary: hcs about percy with a gf who's a daughter of zeus

when you first got to camp, percy was definitely thinking "not a daughter of zeus, that guy sucks ass"

yes he judges people he doesn't know, we all do

at first, the two of you could not get along with each other

constantly arguing

you definitely "accidentally" zapped him and he "accidentally" soaked you with water

you both had dish duty for a month and you got to know each other more

he was pleasantly surprised to find that you were nothing like your dad at all

like you were chill af and he was down w that

i think you two definitely still had your arguments because as children of the big three you were very impatient and easily angered, as we saw with thalia and percy

but you got through it (usually after having a duel)

always keeping each other on their toes

if there was another war, you two would be a force you wouldn't want to anger

camp halfblood now has scary dog privileges x2

the two of you train together all the time, but sometimes you get carried away

like, you'll be summoning big storms and shit and he'll like accidentally create a tsunami bc y'all are trynna strengthen your powers

you got yelled at and put back on dish duties for almost ruining the camp

if percy was feeling sad, you would take him by the water and create lightning in the sky in the shape of a heart

immediately makes him smile and he gets all happy and makes a heart in the water

you two are ALWAYS sleeping in each other's cabins

bc like

it gets lonely being strong and sexy and you just wanna feel each other's warmth through the night

i think because you two are children of the big three and you've been through so much, ur nightmares are so much worse

and sleeping in each other's cabins helps you two calm each other down

that's the only reason mr d and chiron let you do it

also, because they couldn't get you to stop no matter how many times they put you on cooking or dish duty

everyone at chb is scared of y'all....

like in heroes of olympus when the other povs show just how scary percy and jason are, i think it would also apply to you as a child of the big three

your dad does NOT approve of him

but neither of you care

poseidon likes you tho, hes a supportive king

you can fly but you're scared to take him with you because you think your dad will zap him right out of the sky

but he always takes you underwater

you guys go to his dad's palace underwater and you meet his tyson

tyson LOVES you more than anything

maybe even more than he loves percy

which is a LOT

you guys are always on quests together, but its fine nobody is really worried

they were when you guys first went on a quest together bc u two still didn't get along then

but now you do

so they know the quest will get done with EASE

y'all work together SO WELL now that you like each other

bc on ur first quest... oh lord..

we won't talk about that tho bc its CRAZY what y'all were doing to each other

but yeah, u guys work together so well and all the quests at camp get done with ease as long as you guys go together

in conclusion, y'all are just a power couple

#pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo series #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson fic #pjo x you #percy jackson imagine #book percy jackson

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starryeyedjanai · 6 months

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@eddiemonth prompt: magnetic | kinktober prompt: sex toys sex shop worker eddie ficlet | rated: mature | read on ao3

Eddie's a little bored.

Applying to work at a sex shop was thrilling when he first thought about it - it felt a little risqué, helping people find cool new ways to have fun in the bedroom and having little anecdotes to come home and tell Chrissy or the band about.

But sometimes it's just really fucking boring actually.

Checking people out is still just checking people out like he would at a grocery store - with the sometimes added detriment of them being super weird or embarrassed to be buying whatever they're buying, some guys getting aggressive or defensive about their purchases.

And restocking shelves is still just restocking shelves regardless of the fact that he's putting dildos on the shelf instead of something else.

It's slow in the mornings on the weekdays that he typically works, and today, his coworker called out so that makes it even worse.

The best, or most entertaining, part of the job is observing people shop and trying to guess what they're gonna buy based on appearance alone. When he has coworkers working alongside him, they always play this game and see how close they get.

But today, he's alone and bored out of his fucking mind.

He's restocking some lube just to be doing something when the bell over the door dings, letting him know a customer just walked into the shop - the first one of the day.

He keeps shelving the lube from the box in his hands and hears the customer approach after a minute. He's expecting them to either try and get his attention or to retreat to a part of the store where there are no employees - people are sometimes weird about being perceived in a sex shop even if it's by the people who work there.

Instead he hears a voice he hasn't heard in years, a voice attached to a face that still haunts his dreams - his first crush, his longest lasting crush, inopportune as it was considering it was on one of the most popular guys at his school.

He hears Steve fucking Harrington's voice say, "Uh, 'scuse me, just need to grab this," and a hand - one veiny, hairy hand - reaches by him to grab one of the bottles of lube he just placed on the shelf.

Eddie looks over his shoulder and - god, Steve is just as devastating now as he was in high school, his hair tousled and perfect, his pretty face dotted with moles that Eddie wants to map out with his tongue.

Steve smiles and nods at him in acknowledgment and moves along to whatever his next item is, leaving Eddie to spiral in his thoughts as he moves to the cash register to ready himself for whatever items Stevie-boy brings up to the counter.

In his many, many fantasies about him, he never really struck Eddie as someone who bought or used sex toys.

The rumors in high school would have him believe Steve's a god in bed without the assistance of toys anyway. It's been years since they graduated, so maybe he's expanded his horizons or his girlfriend is into them or something.

Or maybe he's delving into kink the way straight boys sometimes do. Walking into a sex shop like they own it, thinking that buying a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and a bullet vibrator makes them the pinnacle of BDSM, a dom who doesn't even know what half the letters in that acronym stand for.

He's going through what Steve could be looking at based on where he sees him in the store on the antiquated security cam feed on the computer. He doesn't seem to be looking at the wall of BDSM for dummies in any case.

He got the lube Eddie was shelving- a water based one. And he's in the anal toys corner of the store.

Well, he'll be damned. Either Steve has a girlfriend who wants to try anal and he's looking for a beginning plug set to help her along or he wants to try anal.

Interesting.

The Steve Harrington of Hawkins High in Bumfuck, Indiana probably wouldn't have been caught dead in a sex shop and here he is, some odd years later, looking at butt plugs and flared vibrating dildos from what Eddie can tell from the grainy video feed.

He almost wants to go over and see if he can help him, learn more about what he's looking for, but hearing what his old crush gets up to in bed might spark a whole new set of fantasies for Eddie to revisit and can't put himself through that.

Especially with this new image of Steve he has in his head - the same lips he's fantasized about kissing a million times before, but on a face that's only gotten better with age. He's lost some of the softness in his face, his jaw strong and still so pretty to look at.

He was magnetic in high school, drawing Eddie's eye every time he walked into a room, his embarrassing crush making him glare at him more than anything, but now? Looking the way he looks now? He's a goddamn force of gravity and Eddie wants to get pulled into his orbit.

He wants to strike up a conversation, wants to talk to him, but he doesn't think he could handle walking up to Steve and learning what he likes in bed, so he just waits for him to get done shopping and watches him walk up to the counter.

Steve sets the items down on the counter and Eddie looks down at them, feeling a flare of heat spread through his body at the items before him.

"Hey, I know you from high school. Munson, right?" Steve asks, pulling Eddie out of his stupor.

"Yeah, uh, hey. Steve. I- Eddie," he says intelligently.

"Right," Steve says, pushing the lube forward trying to prompt Eddie into action.

He grabs the lube and can't seem to help himself when he says, "You know, this dildo isn't really for beginners. Unless you know what you're doing and have a ton of patience and, well- you are buying lube, so that's good-"

"I'm. Not a beginner," Steve says, interrupting Eddie's spiel.

"You- what?" Eddie asks, his brain still a little fried from seeing Steve fuckin' Harrington walk up to the counter with two bottles of lube - he went back for a second - and an anal dildo with a girth that's not dissimilar to Eddie's fucking fist.

"I'm definitely not a beginner. That's kind of a rude assumption, don't you think? Aren't you supposed to be impartial to what customers buy?" Steve asks, the grin on his face betraying the words coming out of his mouth.

"Uh, fuck. Fuck. I'm so sorry. I really shouldn't have said anything," Eddie says, cringing at himself. He normally wouldn't have said anything, but then again, he normally isn't face to face with the guy he's had more fantasies about than he can count.

"It's fine. I mean, you knew me in high school and that guy wouldn't have any clue what to do with this," Steve says, gesturing to the box with the dildo in it on the counter. "Luckily I'm not that guy anymore."

"Yeah, lucky," Eddie says wearily, grabbing the box and scanning it.

He wants to ask, 'So you know what to do with it now?' and then 'would you want to show me?' But both of those things would be wholly inappropriate to ask a customer so he clamps his mouth firmly shut, rolling his lips between his teeth.

The look on Steve's face says he knows what Eddie's thinking even without him saying it - the small smirk on his lips when Eddie looks up after finishing ringing him up is annoyingly attractive.

He tells him his total, running on autopilot and trying so hard not to think about Steve straddling the dildo he's bagging up for him and sinking down on it, eyes rolling back at the stretch. Fuck.

Steve hands him his card and Eddie swipes it and waits for the receipt to print before he hands it back to him along with his receipt.

Eddie's opening his mouth and putting his foot directly in it again when he says, "Good luck with your, uh. Jesus christ - please ignore me. I seem to have forgotten my brain to mouth filter at home today."

Steve laughs and asks, "Do you have a pen?"

"Uh, yeah," Eddie says, fumbling with the pen beside the register before holding it out for Steve. Their fingers brush as Steve takes it from him.

He turns the receipt over and writes something down on the back of it. He slides both the receipt and the pen back across the counter.

He says, "You seem like you might need some lessons in keeping quiet instead of running your mouth. I have a few gags that you might like. If you're interested."

Eddie's mouth drops open and Steve smirks at him. He grabs his bag from the counter and taps his knuckles against the counter.

"See you around, Eddie Munson," he says, walking away. He turns around when he gets to the door and finds Eddie still gawking at him. He waves at him and Eddie, in his stupor, manages to wave back.

Steve pushes the door open and leaves, the bell dinging again.

Eddie wheezes out the breath he was holding. He looks down at the receipt and finds a number scrawled on it.

He scrambles to pull his phone out and enters the number into his contacts.

He texts the contact saved as STEVE FUCKEN HARRINGTON 🍆🥵🔥 immediately, not giving a damn about how down bad that might make him look.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #eddiemonthafterdark #steddie ficlet #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve x eddie #janai.doc

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unequivocallyreid · 4 months

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Disguise It

repost! i was accidentally on priv when i posted this so… doing it again! this is crazy nsfw so be warned 🤗

pairing: spencer x fem!reader

preview:

You couldn’t tell you who moves in first, but suddenly his lips are on yours and your hands are tugging in his hair while his hold you to him. You can feel all of him and it doesn’t seem like it is possibly enough. All you know, is that he breaks away first.

“I don’t know how to handle myself around you. I shouldn’t be here. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Now it’s your turn to grab the man in front of you.

“Spencer, shut up.”

warnings: criminal minds typical violence, case descriptions, smut, light angst, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex w/ talk of contraceptives

please let me know if i missed anything!

Georgia is sweltering in the summer. The silk, sleeveless shirt you wore was starting to cling to the sweat on your back, and your body only heated further upon the prodding you were receiving from your fellow team member. It felt like everything you said was met with a rebuttal from Dr. Reid.

At this point, you’d been a part of the BAU for two years. While you were the youngest of the team, you felt the dozens of cases you helped to successfully close should have garnered you some respect in Spencer’s eyes, but, for whatever reason, he still saw you as an expendable part.

At first, his hostility seemed excusable. You had joined the team, and were struck upon meeting him. He was beautiful and incredibly smart and even more incredibly cold. Shortly after, Penelope explained you had replaced one of Reid’s closest friends, Alex. After some, admittedly nosy, probing, you found out just how integral Alex had been in helping him to grieve the loss of his girlfriend at the hands of an unsub. You were understanding and recognized that you shouldn’t expect the warmest greeting from the man. But over time, it seemed all of the vitriol he had for the undesirable aspects of the job was taken out on you. Every time someone was lost, or a suspect got away, you were there for him to blame. You got it, sure it was hurtful, but you got it.

However, two years later, you decidedly did not get it. Around everyone else, he glowed, and yet when it came to you he was all snide remarks. Still, you couldn’t help but be enamored by him. You saw how he cared so deeply for everyone on the team. How any time he could, he put others well being above his. Hell, he didn’t even like you, but somehow, anytime there was a dangerous situation he found a way to put himself between you and it. You hated how attracted to him you were and you hated that he made you the object of his anger.

This case was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Four women had been murdered in the span of four weeks in a small town in Georgia. All of them with their hair cut and dyed post-mortem. The team was called out three days ago, and aside from a profile that fit nearly half the men in town, you had nothing. With a day left before another victim was expected, Hotch called you all into a small office within the sheriffs department.

“All we have to go on currently is that our unsub is targeting young women he perceives as easy targets. All four victims visited bars the night they were abducted, and they were all found the next morning. We know he is going to strike again tonight. Right now, our only option is to station an officer in one of the bars that he is likely to hit.”

Hotch sighed before continuing, “Y/N, you fit his preferred age and build. We need it to be you.”

Before you could say anything, an all too familiar voice spoke from behind you.

“Hotch, all due respect, but she doesn’t have nearly enough experience undercover. It’s more likely she screw up this whole case than find our guy.”

“Reid, I don’t know-“

You cut Derek off before he could finish his sentence, “Are fucking serious?”

“It’s nothing personal, Y/N. You just don’t have the tactical and logistical skills something like this requires,” Reid says with the corner of his mouth turned up and you see red.

“What is your problem?”

“Y/N,” Derek says trying to settle you with a hand on your shoulder but you shrug him off.

“No. No, I’m so tired of this. Look Reid, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you don’t like me. I’m sorry that I took Alex’s place. I’m sorry I’m good at my job. I know it, everyone here knows it but for you.”

You could’ve stopped there, in fact you should’ve stopped there, but obviously you didn’t.

“You know what, most of all I’m sorry I wasn’t on the team sooner, because if I was someone would have had the sense to not let you work on Maeve’s case. Maybe then, she’d be here and you wouldn’t be so fucking bitter at the world.”

As soon as you said it you wished you could take it back, but you were already half way out the door with tears pooling in your eyes.

Morgan followed closely behind you, catching up and pulling you aside before you reached the front door of the department.

“Pretty girl,”

You cut him off again, “Look I know. I’ll apologize to everyone, but I can’t do this right now.”

“Kid, let me finish.”

You look at him and wipe your eyes, a signal to go on.

“You don’t owe anyone anything. Do I think you made the best choice back there? No. But, you have a right to be angry, just don’t let it blow your chance to prove him wrong.”

“Derek, I know he’s your best friend. You don’t have to comfort me, I’m a big girl.”

Derek pulled you into his chest, “He’s my friend but he’s also an idiot. You said what you needed to and he needed to get his ass whopped. Look, go get ready for tonight. Despite what Reid said the team needs you and those girls need you, do it for them.”

“I don’t really have a choice do I,” you say through a sniffle.

“Nope. So, get moving, sweetness.”

The embarrassment of breaking down in front of your team continued to rock you on your way to the motel down the street. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop replaying Spencer’s face over and over in your head. Regardless of his feelings toward you, you cared about him and you didn’t want to hurt him. It was just too much pressure built up over your time with the BAU and you snapped. If you could have helped it you would have.

You didn’t really have any bar attire in your go bag, and you knew that your unsub liked a certain look, so you took it upon yourself to stop by a shop. As quickly as possible, time was literally running out, you found a black mini-dress. The fabric was thick enough to cover the wire you were sure you’d be wearing, and it wasn’t expensive enough for you to feel guilty about purchasing it.

Throughout your time at the BAU, you had never worn anything like this. Lack of social life aside, anytime you went out with the team to celebrate a case or birthday, you wore business casual. Knowing they would all, namely Spencer, see you in something so small made you anxious. If you had chosen a different life, this would have been normal night-out attire for you, but you don’t even think you own a skirt that’s shorter than your knee.

The makeup you put on did nothing to ease your discomfort. It was messy and dark, just like the women he killed were wearing. You looked just like them.

On the drive back to the station, the knot in your stomach felt like it nearly tripled in size. You were scared you’d be reprimanded upon entering, while wearing club attire, like a 17 year old who broke her curfew. As you opened your car door you felt your hands shake. You put on you FBI jacket for modestly and walked in. A quick scan of the room showed no sign of Spencer, which took a bit of weight off of your shoulders. You didn’t think you could handle seeing the broken look in his eyes for a second time that day.

Once JJ saw you she walked over and said gently, “Y/N, are you alright? Are you sure you’re okay to do this?”

Admittedly, you had to force a smile as you replied, “Don’t worry about me.”

Too much was weighing on you. If you weren’t successful, you’d have another body on your conscience, coupled with using the most devastating event in Reid’s life against him. You felt like shit. Part of you knew he deserved it and the other wanted to make everything better for him. It was selfish and made you feel gross, but you had always secretly hoped that you could be the one to bring out the light in him if he ever let you in, but you threw away the slim chance of that when Maeve’s name left your lips.

After attempting to further assure JJ that you were okay, you walked back to the office you knew that you’d find Hotch in. You opened the door and found Spencer and him going over the geographical profile. When Spencer looked up and saw you, he excused himself quietly and fled the room. Hotch said nothing but waved you in.

He ignored the elephant in the room, choosing instead to explain the details of your assignment.

“Morgan, JJ, and Reid will all be stationed around the bar,” he said plainly, but you did not miss his scan of your face, searching for a reaction.

“If things escalate, if you are threatened at any point, they will be there. We’ll hear everything through the wire, and you’ll hear us.”

Still lacking the confidence you held earlier in the day, you reply with a meek “Yes sir,” and move to leave the office.

“Y/n,” he calls out to you before you reach the door. “Don’t let it get to you”

The bar feels hotter than it did outside, and the dress you’re wearing feels even smaller. As you wait to be approached, you fail to catch Reid’s eye. He’s been avoiding your gaze for the last hour you’d been there.

Right when you think it’s time to drawback and admit you weren’t the type he was looking for, you feel a rough hand run across your back.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing at a place like this all alone?”

You can smell his cigarette breath before you can see him, and you have to school your face before you reply.

“I’d say I was waiting for you, but I don’t know your name.” You say, forcing a giggle and slurring your words, and you swear you hear Reid scoffing in your ear.

“It’s Michael, and I think you know just what to say.”

You hear Penelope confirm the name in your ear. The man before you is stocky and looks close to 30. He moves the hand that was on your back to rest high on your thigh.

“Let me buy you a drink, doll.”

You know you have to test him. You have to do something to prove he’s your guy, so you move to stand with faux shaking legs.

“I really shouldn’t, I uh, have to get home.”

A sick smile ghosts over his face and he forces you to sit back down, his grip tightening even more on your leg.

“Fun is just startin’, don’t get cold feet on me now.”

You reach to pull his hand off you, “No, I really need to be home. I, My roommate will worry.”

One hand grabs the back of your neck as the other lifts higher on you leg.

“Darlin, don’t you know your manners?

Hotch tells you to hold off, asking you to push him a little farther before they step in, and as much as your shaking with this man’s hands on you and stale breath in your face, you follow orders.

“You’re hurting me,” you tell him through clenched teeth as his nails sink into your skin.

“I promise you I have a lot more planned, doll. Now be good girl and sit down, or you’re going to have a knife deep in that pretty little waist of yours.”

Before you can follow his directions, you hear a familiar voice say, “Not likely.”

While you were distracted by the man in front of you, Spencer had made his way to you from across the room, and was now pushing down the man onto the bar in front of you. His eyes were dark and he was rougher than you had ever seen him. Maybe unfortunately, JJ came up behind you and pulled you away from Spencer and your staring was cut short.

The man in the bar turned out to be Michael Edwin. He had a history of petty theft and assault charges from bar fights, but Penelope recovered sealed records from his adolescence, which showed two counts of aggravated sexual assault. His fiancé had recently left him, which served as a trigger for the recent murders.

Despite protests, you were checked out by EMS before you could go back to the motel. They wanted to ensure you weren’t drugged and that you didn’t have any puncture wounds from the nails on you neck or thigh. Hotch spoke to you, told you that you did a good job, but in all honesty you just wanted to go lay down in the shitty bed that was waiting for you, and sleep away the events of the night. Fate clearly had other plans.

You were stepping out of the shower when you heard a knock at the front door. You called out to whoever it was, you assumed JJ or Morgan, that you be there in a minute. Quickly, you threw on a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, and let your hair down from the towel that had been holding it.

Opening the door to your room did not yield the results you expected. Standing in front of you, in the same clothes he’d been wearing at the bar, was Spencer. He looked tired and his hair was sticking up like he’d spent the last two hours running his hands through it. He asked to come in. You stepped aside but did not welcome him.

“What do you need Reid? I’m really not looking to fight, I just want to sleep.”

He looked over your frame once, and then shut the door behind him.

“You drive me crazy.”

You cut him off, with a quick “Get out.”

“No, look just please let me talk to you.” You wish the desperation in his voice didn’t draw you back in immediately.

He inches closer to you as you moved away from him and says softly, “You’re stubborn and you drive me crazy. But, you were right today-“

“Please stop,” you bite back, again cutting him off.

“Christ Y/n, just let me get through this.”

He almost waits for you to stop him again before continuing. “You make me feel fucking crazy, and I can’t think and I hate it. I hate what you do to me. I hate the way I feel around you.”

“Spencer, please just go. I don’t need you to tell me that I’m terrible at my job for a second time today. Try it again tomorrow.”

You move to open the door but he grabs you before you can reach it.

“Stop talking, Y/N.”

His hands are on your waist and you heartbeat is in your throat and you know you should push him off of you but you can’t make yourself do it. He’s closer to you than he’s ever been and you can smell his sweat. As much as you want to scream at him, and force him out of your room, you can’t help but feel a warmth pooling in between your thighs.

He is impossibly closer when he says, “Y/n, please.”

“I don’t know how to handle myself around you. I shouldn’t be here. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Now it’s your turn to grab the man in front of you.

“Spencer, shut up.”

You pull him back to your lips, and you can feel the moment his resolve breaks. He is everywhere. His hands run up your waist and dip below you shirt, and at first it’s hesitant, but then he’s pushing you toward the mattress and pressing himself onto you.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me every day?”

You try to reply, “You’re full of shit,” but your sentence dies off as his fingers brush over your nipple. You’re panting into his mouth and you feel him hard against you hip. Without thought, your hips roll into his, desperate for pleasure.

His hands are everywhere, and his mouth follows suit, trailing down your neck and biting hard into your shoulder. His hands become more confident but still shockingly gentle. You imagined he’d be rough and angry, almost punishing, but this is so much worse. He is caring and his lips pause over your heart beat, allowing you to feel the warmth they carry. Tears are forming in your eyes and you do your best to blink them back as his hand grip the edge of your shirt and pull it over your head.

He curses to himself when he sees you, and you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. His fingers roll over the buds on your chest and you cry out, “Spencer, please.”

You don’t even know what you’re asking him for, but he seems to understand. His fingers slip beneath the waist band of your shorts, finding your centre and rubbing gently over your clit.

“God you’re so fucking wet and I’ve barely even touched you.”

You’re lost in his touch, and the way his hands are relentless in their pursuit tells you that he is too. You never expected him to talk like this. Fantasized, sure, but actually having him right above you is almost too much to bear. It is too much, and you don’t understand it, and the tears that were forming earlier become to heavy to hold back. The gentle moans you had been letting pass through your lips turn into sobs and his fingers still as soon as he hears you.

His voice is shaken and small when he asks, “Y/n? What’s wrong, what did I do?”

His question rocks through you and makes the tears well up so much faster than they were before.

“I’m so sorry,” you choke out. “I’m so sorry. I was cruel to you and you’re being so gentle with me and I don’t understand. You, you don’t have to do this for me just because you feel bad.”

He pulls you into him in a way that is different than before, and tries to wipe away the tears you let spill.

“Y/n, that isn’t what this is. I- I should be apologizing to you. I’ve been so terrible to you and you’ve been nothing but kind.”

You scoff, thinking back to earlier in the day, and try to push him away but he holds you closer and forces you to look at him.

“You were right, Y/n. I’ve been so scared of losing more people since Maeve, and when you joined the team it was clear how wonderful you were from the second you walked in. You’re so good and so intelligent, Y/n. I was fucking terrified of how drawn to you I was, so I pushed you away and I was too dumb to realize it was hurting you until today.”

His lips find your forehead, ghosting a kiss over it before continuing, “I’ve spent the last two years failing miserably at not forming an attachment to you, and I hurt you. Please, let me show you that I care.”

You know that you should be mad at him, but you’ve never been able to stay angry at the man in front of you. So, instead of trying to fight the feelings you both had been trying to for years, you let him in.

Your lips find his for the second time that night, and this time you each won’t let the other run off. His hands travel down your body again as he whispers sweet nothings in you ear and pulls your shorts off of you. When he reconnects with your heat, the sensation feels so much greater than before. You push yourself into his hand, and gasp when his fingers find their way inside you. Their pace is languid and exploratory as he curls himself inside of you, finding a spot that makes you feel like you’re on fire.

His lips that were exploring the expanse of your chest find their way back up to yours, and it gives you the courage to press your hand to the tent of his pants. Your action makes him still momentarily but then he presses more firmly into you.

He breaks away from you and says “You feel so good,” but isn’t enough. You whine into his mouth and push your hands to try and undo the buttons of his shirt. He breathes out a laugh and helps you guide it off of him. Still, you’re nothing if not greedy and you want more, so your hands move from his chest to his belt, and suddenly he is bare to you.

As you take him in, you feel your mouth fall open, and you can’t help but reach out to touch him and whisper, “You’re so big.”

This action decidedly pushes him over the edge as a groan falls from his lips and his hands resume their previous mission at a much faster pace. You can feel the pit forming in your stomach as he reduces you to incomprehensible babble and you both know you’re close. His thumb finds your clit and you feel yourself diving over the edge as your orgasm finds you. He nurses you through it, drawing the feeling out, before removing his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

You’re overcome with affection for the man above you, and you feel an incredible need to express it, but you can’t find the words. Instead, you do your best to flip him and lower yourself down his body. He watches you in awe, which almost surprises you because how could he think you wouldn’t want him in every possible way.

Once you’ve kissed your way down his chest and over his stomach, you move to put him in your mouth.

He stops you before you can, and your heart drops, scared that the illusion has shattered and he has decided he no longer wants you.

He remedies your fears quickly though when he says, “Y/n, you don’t have to.”

“I want to. I really want to, Spence. I- I want you.”

You swear you see love in his eyes, but push the thought aside and take him in your mouth.

You savor the feeling of taking him in, the way he fills your mouth and touches the back of your throat. You can’t fit him in his entirety and your hand has to pick up the slack, which seems to drive him crazy. Still, something in you wants to give him full control over you. So, when you come up for air, you take his hand and guide it to the back of your head, and genius that he is, he takes the hint. He pushes himself deeper down your throat as his hands tangle in your hair. The rhythm he build is perfect.

“You’re so fucking good, baby.”

The pet name makes your thighs press together, desperate for another release. His mouth is growing filthier by the minute.

“Fuck, Y/n. You like having my cock down you throat don’t you? Just so desperate to please, aren’t you?”

You moan around him before pulling off, feeling needier than you think you ever have before. As much as you want to make him come with your mouth, you need him inside you.

“Spencer, I need more.”

He laughs a little and says, “You’ve got to use your words, Y/n. Tell me what you want.”

The thought of saying it feels more embarrassing than anything you’ve done so far, but your desire outweighs it and you tell him, “I want you inside.”

“There you go, baby. Want me to fuck you, huh?”

You know he isn’t really asking, but you can’t stop yourself from nodding regardless.

Before going any further he asks, “Do you have a condom?”

“I don’t think so. I have an IUD and I’m clean. I trust you, but if you want to stop I get it.”

Without responding, he’s flipped you over and is now holding himself over you once again. For a second, he just looks down at you, but a small ‘please’ falling from your lips is enough to break his daze. He runs his hands down your stomach, grazing over your centre, before grabbing himself and lining up with you. The moment he starts to push himself in, you feel so full you might cry.

Your body is white hot, a feeling you haven’t experienced in any of your other sexual encounters. Hell, most of them haven’t made you come once, but with Reid you’re already bordering on a second orgasm just from him pushing into you. His pace is perfectly slow, and you can see his jaw clenched as he tries to restrain himself.

“I’m okay. You can go harder, I want you harder.”

Your words have the desired effect and you watch as he lets go. He’s everywhere and each stroke hits places that send you into a tailspin. When he rocks into you, his pelvis bushes over your clit perfectly.

“I’m gonna come, Spence. Fuck, fuck I’m coming.”

“God, I can fucking feel it, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight for me.”

If you had any shame left in you, you might be embarrassed at how quickly you came a second time, but all you can focus on is the rhythm of Spencer above you. You can feel his movements growing sloppier and you know that he’s close too.

“I’m gonna come, baby Where do you want it?”

You all but cry out, “Inside, Spencer. Please I want you inside.”

This pushes him over the edge and you can feel him pulse inside you. The sensation is almost enough to make you come again.

“Fuck, Y/n, where did that come from.”

You don’t respond and he seems to notice the dazed look in your eyes as he pulls out of you. Before you can get used to the emptiness, you feel his fingers trace your entrance.

“You want me to fuck my come back into you, huh? Make sure you’re really full?”

You nod, almost subconsciously, and he begins pushing his fingers into you at a relentless pace. You reach and heap his arm to center yourself, but it’s no use.

“Just one more, love. Let me show you how sorry I am.”

Your body is shaking and tears, different than before, well in your eyes and begin to break free.

“Such a pretty, filthy girl. Let go for me, baby. Can you do that? Can you come for me?”

You’ve always been one to please, and you feel the ball of tension in your stomach break free. Everything is white and the only thing you can do is call out Spencer’s name.

“So fucking pretty, Y/n. Come back, baby. I want to see your eyes.”

You didn’t even realize they were closed, but when they open you’re greeted with Spencer’s face above you. He smiles down at you and moves to get off the bed, which causes a jolt of panic to course through you.

“Don’t leave,” you all but yell. “Please, just stay with me tonight.”

He quells all your worries with a sentence, “Just getting a towel to clean you up. I’m not going to leave you anytime soon.”

done! let me know what you think!

#spencer reid #fic rec #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #enemies to lovers

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anantaru · 10 months

Text

ARE YOU DEAF, OR JUST STUPID?

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — visiting a club at night wasn't something scaramouche would normally agree on, but when someone asks if you're single all of a sudden, the night appeared to become all the more eventful.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 800 words

— ꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, he's a jealous man with a dream, gn! reader

the hefty, immersive atmosphere encompassing your body was erratic, shining and full of lucent light.

you can perceive the differences in scents colliding with each other in the humid air of the underground club you were currently visiting as your boyfriend scaramouche was anything else but delighted to be here.

at least you're with him, but he simply doesn't get the appeal of being ringed in between infuriating, boring, pesky little humans having fun.

indeed, he has been playing the grumpy card for the majority of the time, fairly speaking, 'grumpy' was a comical understatement.

most of all, he cannot even convince himself to go out, don't even mention manipulating himself into thinking he likes it. because what's there to like? the noisy crowd or the blaring music blasting into his poor ears with people wildly shaking their bodies to the pesky tune, including you— who thankfully was only having eyes for him, also gleefully dancing and swaying your body as your boyfriend only watched;

stone-cold features not moving a muscle, unbothered and ready to go home again.

but then, the atmosphere changes when you feel someone tap on your shoulder, "sorry if this is weird." you flinch immediately by surprise, noticing the man behind you as you pull your head aside to face him.

"but are you single pretty?"

ugh, double ugh.

yet if you were being quite honest with yourself now, you're already laughing and were feeling just a little bad for the random guy asking you such a question not knowing what storm he had just conjured— because he does not even see that scaramouche was also standing next to you, mouth tight and swallowing, clearly not pleased by that insignificant insect, as he called him, bothering his partner while having fun.

"what?" scaramouche doesn't waste a single breath and spits out immediately, right away cutting you off the conversation entirely and inserting himself into the middle of you and the stranger so he couldn't bother you anymore, even if he tried. "what did you say?"

"w-wait, who are you?" the stranger forces a smile on his tensed face, strikingly irritated.

"are you deaf?" well, again, to make things clear, you should maybe pray to the archons now, clearly not for your boyfriend but for the odd man there. if it wasn't this hilarious. but you silently tug on scaramouche's arm to signal him that it was in fact, okay, and you could simply handle this alone, but you would also lie to yourself if you'd say that it wasn't cute, quite charming too, of him to be this animated, let alone protective right now.

scaramouche feels his throat tighten but doesn't let any anger run down, it's pointless and he would only make people notice him even more. "i don't want any troubles." the man silences down, feeling a warm, embarrassing hotness on his neck and his shoulders shrug inwards, because how possibly couldn't he react that way?

presently, he was being watched up and down, up and down, closely, with those indigo eyes boring sharp, burning daggers into his flesh and bones. "then you better leave."

"because there's no one single here, leave." scaramouche takes a step forward, "do you i have to spell it out for you or are you just that stupid?"

you could've sworn you heard a little 'no' leaving past the guys lips, yet the irksome stranger ultimately decided to take a haste leave instead, thankfully, but not before awkwardly glancing towards you and back to scaramouche, grinning through his tensed mouth, as if not knowing how to possibly tackle a situation like that, ever.

"you didn't have to do this, you know." you sneakily whisper into scaramouche's ear, "but then." and you begin to ponder dramatically in front of him, wrapping your arms around his body as you perceived his muscles lose on tension, "i wouldn't have been able to see this cute side of you."

what followed next was quite a sight to behold— that sicken, repulsed look on scaramouche face was award worthy, the best one in all of teyvat, but you loved that about him and place a soft, pleasing kiss on his parted lips before he was able to say anything back.

"i'm not cute." yet his response brushes over your lips regardless, his warm breath coating your own while he leaned into your warmth, gracefully accepting your candied kisses that were his treasured favorites.

"lets leave this place before i track that sucker down."

#scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin Impact x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin x you #genshin Impact x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #Genshin Impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #Genshin Impact scaramouche

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propertyofemilyprentiss · 1 month

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“Home”

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female!reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: While working on a case, the memories of your past came flooding in, and Emily was there to comfort you in the aftermath.

TWs: violence, guns, mentions of abuse, childhood trauma

Word count: 3.1K

It has been a horrible couple of days, to say the least, and you hated when this happened - when a case hit a little way too close to home. Sure, you’ve learned to compartmentalize pretty well in those 2 years you had been working for the BAU, but this time it was different.

You couldn't shake the image out of your mind, the look on that boy’s face who managed to murder -execution style- three happy families before you caught him on his 4th one. The fear, the pain, the desperation - the eyes always tell the unspoken stories. It was almost like he was pleading you to get to him before he could destroy another family.

—

“Let me talk to him”, you told Hotch on the phone while you were riding with Emily to the house, “I know I can get him to surrender before he hurts them”.

Of course, Hotch knew your background and he checked up on you multiple times during the case - which you were grateful for, even though you didn’t actually like the extra attention that was obviously visible to the rest of the team. In addition, you also hated that they knew, on some level, that your background couldn’t have been a lot more different than the unsub’s.

Emily, who was glancing at you from time to time, fought really hard with herself to say nothing at your request. It was not her place to make that decision, even though her mind was screaming at her to say no, or to say something at all.

Also, you were too stubborn (or determined, as you liked to call it) to be talked out of this. She knew, but that didn't make her heart race any less.

”And I need to do it alone-“, you added but were immediately interrupted this time.

“Absolutely not!”, she almost yelled at your crazy request.

It felt like suicide, walking alone into a house where the murderer would not hesitate to shoot her - he proved that many times with the other families.

”Emily-“

”y/n”, you heard your name coming from the phone this time, “I know you see him different than we do-“

”I don't see him any different, I just know that if we all go into the house he’ll feel too threatened to even have a chance to cooperate. His instincts will kick in and then he will for sure not hesitate to use his gun. If I go alone, he won’t perceive me as a threat, and I'll have the chance to talk to him, whilst you can have my back from the outside”, you were determined to do this and you knew you had a good point of view.

There was pure silence for a few seconds.

”If at any point you feel like he won't cooperate, we’ll be coming in”, Hotch told you.

”Thank you”, you said, but you couldn't bear to look at Emily, you knew exactly the look that she was giving you right now.

You noticed her tensed greep on the steering wheel, how her knuckles were almost white and you knew deep down that she just wants you to be safe. But this was not her battle to fight, unfortunately. It was yours.

—

As you stepped into the house, you heard a terrifying scream coming from the living room, followed by the sound of a gun. You knew you only had a few minutes before the room would go completely silent forever.

With your gun in your hand, you rushed there as fast as you could.

”Danny Brant, my name is y/n y/l/n and I’m from the FBI”, you quickly scanned the room then, noticing how the husband was laying on the floor, being the one who was shot - you figured- but not deadly, and the wife was standing frozen next to him while the unsub had their little boy, who was just 6 years old from what Garcia told you.

“Stop! Don’t come any closer or I'm gonna shoot him!”, he yelled, but you noticed his hand trembling on the gun that was pointed to the kid's head.

”Oh my god!”, you heard the mom sobbing, “please don't do this!”.

However, he didn't even look at her, his whole attention was on you and the weapon that was pointing at him.

”You’re not, Danny , we both know that you don't want to hurt him. You’re just trying to get rid of all the pain that lies within yourself right now, but this is not the solution”, you looked at him, almost as desperately as he was looking at you, hoping that he would understand, “you can still fix this, just let me help you”.

”You want to help me?”, he scoffed, “don’t pretend like you’re any different from the others, you don't care about me, you don’t understand-“

”But I do”, you took a deep breath, lowering your gun and putting it on the floor. There was no going backwards now. “I understand, the world didn't treat you with the kindness that it treats other people and it hurts. Your parents didn't give you the unconditional love that every child deserves and it hurts even more. You suffered alone through the abuse, through years of not hearing “I love you” not even once, and you wondered what was wrong with you all this time. You tried anything in your power to make them proud, to make them smile when they were looking at you, despite the fact that you were their punching bag every single day, and nothing worked. So the pain turned into anger until you couldn't control it anymore - it controlled you. I understand”, your voice almost cracked, but you knew you were getting through him.

Hope filled your chest as you continued.

”You turned your anger towards happy homes, towards the things that life did not give you, but it gave to others, because it's not fair, is it?”

”Why not me?”, tears pricked his eyes, but for once in his life, he finally felt understood - although he was not ready to let go yet.

”I asked myself the same question many times, Danny, and I still don't know the answer. But what I can tell you is that inflicting your pain on others will not make yours go away. What you already did cannot be undone, but you can still make the right decision here. Please, let the little boy go”, you pleaded, knowing that this was his only chance before the team would have to intervene.

Immediately, he just started crying, loosening his grip on the kid and putting the gun on the floor. No words were spoken, he just watched as you approached him with the cuffs in your hands, then glanced to the mother who was hugging her son like her life depended on it and ultimately to all the other agents that were entering the house

“I'm so sorry”, was all he said before you handed him to another police officer.

You hurried to get out of the house, not being able to stay there even for a few more seconds. Everyone worriedly looked at you as you passed through them - you knew they heard everything, but you were too exhausted to feel anything. You just wanted to rot in your hotel room for the rest of the night, for once being grateful that you weren’t leaving until the next day.

Only when you were finally outside, you felt like you could breathe again.

You went back to the hotel before anyone else.

—

You’ve lost count of how many times the scene played in your head, and each time, your chest felt a little bit heavier than before. You couldn't arrange the thoughts in your head, you couldn't do anything more than just breathe.

This wasn't like you, it wasn't supposed to get to you this much, especially after experiencing cases that were much more disturbing than this one. But it still did, and you hated it.

Hated how weak you felt.

The wound you tried so meticulously to heal over time reopened in a matter of days, but this wasn't even your main concern. You just wanted to show your team that you were just as capable to do your job as everyone else, but was the cost worth it?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door and you already knew who it was. You don't even know how much time has passed from the moment you left the scene until now, to you it felt like hours. And for the first time in those days, getting out of bed didn't feel like a chore anymore.

“Emily-”

”y/n”, you both spoke at the same time.

You saw the concerned look on her face and you wished you could make it go away. Wished that you didn’t have to carry so much pain within yourself, that you couldn’t even talk about it with the person you love the most.

She immediately hugged you and you melted in her embrace. With her arms around you, it was the only time your mind was quiet.

“Look at me”, she gently said, lifting your chin to look into your glossy eyes, ”Oh, my sweet angel. I know you’re not okay, and if you want to talk about it, I’m here. Always. I love you. You don't have to be alone in this”.

But it's all you’ve known in your entire life. You have always been careful about what you let out about yourself to others, too scared of confessing your struggles to the few people who actually cared and loved you, thinking that they would leave.

Because who would want to love the mess of a person you were?

“y/n?”

Shit, you’ve been silent for too long.

“Can we j-just, uhm, lay in bed for a while?”, your voice came out more of a whisper, fearing that you would break down right then and there if you actually spoke out loud.

”Of course, come here”, Emily took your hand in hers and guided you right back to where you were a few minutes ago.

Instinctively, you laid your head on her chest as she was holding you, taking in the scent of her perfume. You smiled - it was your favorite.

It was silent for a while, which you were grateful for. Emily never pushed you into doing anything you weren't ready to do. But it suddenly became too much - the comfort of her hand caressing through your hair, the dozens of kisses that she was leaving wherever she could - the top of your head, your forehead, your hand that she was holding into hers - the sweet, encouraging words that she was whispering to you with the most loving tone you’ve ever heard in your life, the tears that threatened to form from the beginning of the day managed to betray you and escape this time.

From that moment, it was too late to stop them. So you cried. You let the tears carry away the pain, the emotions that you’ve bottled up these past few days, the feeling of failure and the struggles that you’ve carried on your shoulders all your life.

And Emily was there, just as she promised, holding you, soothing you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as your tears fell on her chest until you had no more left.

“I’m sorry”, was all that you were able to say.

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for”, she said, lifting you for a bit so that your eyes would meet.

There was nothing but sincerity in them.

”But I have, Em. I've ruined your shirt, I worried you all day, we've barely spoken since we got here about anything that didn't include the case and I’m so, so sorry”, your body fell back into her embrace, a part of you clinging to her in the desperation of not wanting her to leave.

”Angel, I don't care about the shirt, it will dry eventually. I care about you. So about the rest - yes, I’ve been worried, because I love you and I want to help you. You’re not alone, even if your mind is telling you that”, she sighed, rubbing circles on your back, “I wish I could take your pain away and only see that beautiful smile of yours, but life isn't that easy. So you never have to apologize for something that was never in your control, okay?”

You exhaled sharply, not even acknowledging that you were not breathing in the first place. She was right, of course she was, but apologizing was all you’ve ever known. And you wanted nothing more than to let her through your walls, but that was not something you’ve ever done with anyone.

You have always been alone.

“I love you too, Em”, you said, looking down at your intertwined hands, “I just don't know how to do this…where do I even start?”

”How about you tell me what’s on your mind right now?”

You sighed again, a chuckle coming from your mouth. At least you don’t have to tell everything, thanks to your conversation with the unsub.

“I guess I’ve never been good at letting things go. I mean, it was a long time ago. It technically doesn't matter anymore. And yet, I cannot let it go, a part of me always knew that, but I had buried it deep enough to not affect me until, well, now”.

You took a deep breath again before continuing, holding slightly tighter onto Emily.

”You know why I wanted to go in that house alone today?”, you asked, wanting to make her understand, “He's 18, the same age I was when I was finally able to move out of my parent's house. I applied to universities that were far away from where I lived and managed to get a good scholarship in the process. I've never talked to them since”, a single tear runs down your cheek as you speak, the sorrowful feeling of recalling those unwanted memories hovering over you, “I wanted to give him the opportunity to have his own life, away from his family, even if that meant in jail”.

”But that anger, I understood it. The anger of having to spend my life recovering from things that I should have been protected from. The anger of losing the carefree, happy child that I once was and being forced to grow up, to take care of myself on my own”, you spoke with the suffering that you endured, and Emily's heart broke.

She knew you weren't done, but she already hated your parents for everything they’ve done to you. But she didn’t say a word, instead she took your hand to her lips, while she used the other to hold you tight.

”And there was also the confusion, you know? Why wasn’t I ever enough, why couldn't I gain their love no matter how much I’ve tried. Sometimes I would lay awake late at night, staring at the ceiling and wondering if I was doomed from the moment I was born or if I was at least loved when I was too little to remember it”, your voice cracked at the end, the too familiar ache in your chest consuming you once again, “Am I so hard to be loved?”

”No. y/n, look at me”, Emily said in an instant, cupping your chin for you to look into her eyes, “I absolutely despise them for putting you through this, for making you question your worth, because, my angel, loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life, you hear me? I love everything about you, from your perfect eyes that I get lost into every time I look at you, to your beautiful, contagious smile that lights up the room and which makes my day go from 0 to 100 in a split second”, she immediately noticed the faint smile on your face, and her chest blossomed with love.

“But it doesn't stop here. I love how whenever we spend time at each other’s places, you always wake up a little bit earlier than me in order to make coffee, even though you hate waking up early. I love how your eyes spark with happiness whenever one of your favorite songs comes on the radio and how you immediately start singing it to me. I love watching the stars with you from my bedroom. I love the fact that I get to know the soft side of you which you never show around the others. I love every movie we watch from the start simply because you’re next to me. I love slow dancing in the living room with you even if you always say you're a terrible dancer”, she laughs at the memories of those amazing days that she wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

”Em, I am a terrible dancer”, you giggled with her, a new set of tears appearing.

But these ones weren't carrying the agony of your horrible past, but the comfort and gratitude towards the woman that turned your life around and showed you the definition of love.

”You're not!”, she exclaimed, wiping your tears away, “But this was not the point here. The point is, you’re not hard to love, not at all, not to me. And I’m so sorry that your parents couldn't see what an amazing daughter they had, but ultimately it’s their loss. I know it hurts you nonetheless, but you’re so strong angel, and I’ve always admired that about you. You’ll carry those memories of everything that happened for the rest of your life, but it's still going to be okay. And whenever it doesn’t feel like it, I’ll be there to remind you”, she placed a kiss on your forehead, hoping you understood that you’re not alone - not anymore.

You didn't know what to say, the shock of someone understanding your pain, your past, and still loving you put you at a loss of words. You slowly got up from her embrace and kissed her, softly and gently, with the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

Pulling back, you looked at her hopeful smile, her glistening eyes, and you wondered how you got so lucky to be able to call her your girlfriend.

“Thank you, Em”, you genuinely smiled, “Thank you for finding me worthy of love, despite the mess that I am”.

“y/n, we’re all a mess in our own ways. But thank you for letting me see yours, because it only made me love you more”.

You placed a tended kiss on her lips once more before melting into her embrace once again, exhaustion filling your body.

And right there, in her arms, with your head on her chest, listening to her beating heart, you’ve never felt safer.

You knew then - you have found your home.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #emily prentiss hurt/comfort #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #paget brewster #emily prentiss x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #writers on tumblr

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chrolloluvr · 2 months

Text

💸 Ways Toxic!Mammon takes over your life as your controlling, doting boyfriend (pt.1?) 💸

Note: Female!Reader, AFAB (Whoever came up w/ voxtok shout out to you!!!), this also takes place before Fizz quit. Also not proofread!

Warnings: semi nsfw, cussing, manipulation, slut shaming, killing, dominance, toxic relationship goals!

Social media. As we all are aware, he has a huge influence online. He has millions and even billion of fans, which he can exploit and persuade very easily. He controls your accounts, people you follow, the things you post (if he even lets you post at all), etc. He controls all of your comments, and filters them. One time, your best friend had left a comment that said, "Damn girl, looking fine ASF", And he was fuming. He forbid you from ever seeing that 'friend' ever again.

You most likely have to make a secret account that you post on. And its very popular. It may consist of you talking about Mammons icks, dancing videos with him (you convinced him, because you told them they were privated.), which all most likely get millions of views. But lets hope Mammon does not find it, or else he will not be happy with you.

How you two as a couple are perceived. He cares alot about his public image. So he will pay out media outlets and news stations to percieve you, himself and your relationship in a good light. So lets say Mammon is getting "cancelled", (he never in a million years actually would, too many people look up to him and adore him.) for bringing supposed groupies backstage after an event he is hosting. Even if he actually did, he would pay the media huuuge amounts of money to get himself out of trouble. Same goes for you. Your poor choices reflect onto him as well, since you two are a very public couple.

Like I have said before in previous posts, you two are definitely the most watched, reported and popular couple in Hell. Sinners and native demons admire the dynamic between you two. So lets say you lash out at a fan for getting their camera too close to you? And then that fan posts footage on Voxtok or Sinstagram, you may get some backlash.

Lets be honest, Mammon probably wont jump to defend you unless it involves him in some way. If it does not involve him, he will block some people by logging into your account, (because he knows all of your passwords), but nothing more.

The clothes you wear. He buys you your clothes, so in his mind, he has every right to choose what goes on your body. If he sees you wearing something revealing, he will tell you 'you look like a slut babe. Where are you going, the fuckin' strip club?' He says shit like that even if your showing an inch of stomach. He for the most part wants you to wear things he chooses. He prefers if you two are matching all the time, but if you are just going out to get groceries, he likes when you wear oversized sweatshirts/hoodies, with leggings. I know its an oddly specific combo, but he thinks it doesn't show off any of your supple skin, and you look so appealing. Especially if its a brand Mammon owns. Mans will go feral. I feel like every time you leave the house with or without him, he will be sitting on the couch, saying 'C'mon, you know the drill cutie. show daddy what your gonna wear, yeah?'

He loves it when he sees you in a natural, underdressed state alone at home. His by far most treasured thing he likes to see on you, is you either in your bra and matching panties, or you in an oversized t shirt and panties with no bra. He especially likes those really dainty, "girly" colors and patterns. He likes seeing you dress feminine.

Calling him daddy. Yes you heard me. He has a huge power influx, and having you call him that fuels the fire in his ego. If its the morning, and you yawn and stretch out a tired, 'good mornin' daddy', he is hard. And this isn't even a fully sexual thing for him, since he isnt all that sexual extremely often. He just loves being called daddy. But if it were somebody else calling him that, they would get the death stare and an upset Mammon. But with you, he likes dominating you. So call him daddy. It will get him in a good mood, and If you want something from him? A daddy or two wont hurt.

Who you talk to. Once you two are together, he with subtly cut people out of your life that he thinks are a threat to your relationship. He will try to cut off any of your male friends or if you had any, your ex's. This sneaky man will probably send photos of you giving him head that he took without your permission. And he will never tell you he did that. Anyways, once he gets rid of all of these people, he will convince you that 'ohhh, princess, c'mon dont get your panties in a twist. Maybe they are just on vacation, you dont gotta act like a little whiny bitch-'. And by vacation, he means threatened, or killed.

He does not want you being influenced by anybody but himself. And especially not by any men. One of his many influx of issues is his jealousy/possession, (which I will get into on another post.) SO really the only other person besides himself that you can talk to are people he has met, and are proven to him to not uphold any power against him.

Meaning he will never let you meet Asmodeus. He is a horrible influence in his mind, and he does not was Ozzie to make you aware of his manipulation tactics. He may let you meet Beelz or Lucifer, but never Ozzie. He is the embodiment of lust, which is like toxic waste for your mind.

You bank account. If you need him to send funds, he will as long as you give him a little kiss on the cheek. But if you have been a bad girl, you might need to work for his money. If he is feeling particularly nice today, he will text you, sending a photo of the transfered funds he sent you, reading 25k+ sent. He loathes in the 'oh no you didn't have to Mamm' he gets from you, or the 'I feel bad, send it back!' Because in reality, he does not like to spend his money on anything useless. And to him, you aren't useless. So sharing some of his "hard earned" cash truly shows how he trusts and believes you wont go out on a limb for him.

And plus, now that your with him, he has taken all of your funds. He wont tell you that, even thought it didn't matter, considering how little you had compared to his trillion dollar net worth. So if you ever do stupidly decide to leave him, you wont be able to.

Puts a tracker on you, or has his goons follow you. This is another thing you are blissfully unaware of. He has an unreleased app on his phone, where he can see wherever you are at all times. While you were sleeping in your shared bedroom, he would put a tracker chip deep into you ear. So that he doesn't have to worry about his most prized possession running away when he isn't around. Or if he cant physically see you and he wants to? He has some loan sharks or his bodyguards follow you silently. I think awhile back, Mammon developed "Mammons Super Secret Spy Glasses", a product made for naive kids, and was released to the masses. But that transformed into an opportunity to exploit his goons into using them to spy on you. Do they want to creepily follow you? No. But can they refuse. Absolutely not. Nobody can refuse Mammon.

If somebody does take you somewhere, he will have his goons kill them, but come to the location and make it look like he killed them for your sake.

Controls where you can and cant go. He 100% does this. He wouldn't even let you in the vicinity of any kind of smoke shop, strip club, etc. He wants you to stay innocent, and naive for him. Meaning he will never let you in the lust ring, which alludes to the fact that him and Ozzie... aren't on the best terms per say. But will let you in any other ring under severe supervision. He cant have you doing any stupid shit to mess with his public image.

He wont even let you roam around in his own ring, because he is well aware of how dangerous it has become. He doesn't want his pretty little thing being kidnapped by some dirty, greasy men on the streets. But if you really want to go somewhere, he will let you go near there, but he will cover your eyes with his top two hands, and guide your waist with his bottom pair of hands somewhere he deems safe.

I also think he would follow you to the bathroom, and he would definitely offer to (does anyways) wipe for you.

How you act. Once you two are together, you will learn things the Mammon way. He will teach you how to become his esteemed future wife, and soon you might even have his kids (when he feels like babytrapping you, but that might be a later work.) He will teach you his version of manners, such as how to sit properly on his lap, teaching you how to french kiss (Which he assumes is your first time kissing somebody), How to sit still properly on his large cock, How to rock your hips just right-

He just wants you to be prepared for him. If he comes home at night, he expects the usual kiss on the cheek, asking him how his day was, and then the finale, which consists of your naked body and your legs being spread wider than his shit eating grin. He just wants to be ready to blow your back out, not having to worry about wasting time.

In the morning, he wants his breakfast served by none other than his obedient little princess. Then, he wants you to personally brush and floss his teeth. Then, he wants you to pick his outfit. (you will never truly get a say, he just wants to know from your perspective what makes him sexier.) And finally, the finishing act, holding your hair tightly into a makeshift ponytail, while he bobs your head up and down his cock.

Sexually frustrating you. After a while, you will miss his sexual touches. You will begin to crave them, as you will find yourself wanting him more and more. He is just so good at eating your pussy, and making you feel like your on cloud 9.

So don't be suprised if you find yourself humping his leg, as he bounces his thigh up and down to try and overstimulate you.

Makes you come to his shows. He will drag you to them. He does not care how tired you are, you will be there and sit pretty. He will let you in for free, but if you want a piece of merchandise, or some popcorn, he will make you pay. (even though its his money). When you first start dating, that is the case. But now that you two are officially an item? You sit up on the terrace with him in his webs. He has two of his left side arms wrapped around you, while he forces you to hand feed him.

And sometimes people catcall you from up above. One time, a couple dudes got drunk of Beelzejuice, and started berading you. By asking you to flash a peek of your tits, and show a little pussy. You were highly offended, but Mammon was not happy.

Those guys ended up in the E.R., but they would have died if it weren't for your expertise in calming Mammons temper. After that little incident, Mammon had later that day taken your ass on a one way ticket to pound town. So you can thank those guys, I guess...

Anyways, what if you need to use the bathroom during a show? He pauses the entire thing, because he wants you to watch how good of a planner and mastermind he is at pageants. Will literally wait outside of the bathroom door for you, and checks his watch if your taking "too long".

But anyways, he will also try to get you and Fizzarolli to be friends, since both of you are basically brainwashed by him.

The things you buy. He will not ever let you buy any cheap shit. Its a bad look on his behalf. So every time you two go out, you have to ask him if you can get something. If he deems it as "not doing anything for your look", he will make you put it back. And this goes for everything. Online orders, Voxtok shop (tiktok shop), etc. It always has to be approved by him.

Also, he will never let you buy any sex toys. He thinks his fingers, tongue and dick are more than plenty. If you ask him for any sex toys, he will call you an ungrateful little whore. So its best if you don't ask, unless you want Mammons over the top mumbling and grumbling.

Emotionally manipulating you. He will do this all the time. If he ever does something wrong, he will never admit to it. He will either never glaze over it, or will turn it on you somehow. It will start with his angry grunting, huffing, and puffing. If you ever ask him if he is ok, he will literally whip his head towards you and give you the most deadly glare you will ever see. His Aussie accent will come out very abruptly when he's mad.

Throw the worlds biggest temper tantrums. Sometimes you think hes a baby in an adult mans body. Some of his have gone on for days on end. He will pull every trick in the book. Whining and fake crying are things he has tried to use on you.

If he is really ruffled up, he will start yelling at you for no reason whatsoever. He just yells a bunch of belligerent bullshit, and does not give any reason why. Truly, the best thing to do to calm him down is spread your legs nice and wide, and let him lap at your cunt for hours. If he is 'borderline dangerous' mad, he will refuse to talk to you for a couple days. Even if you try, he wont budge. Deep down, he cares for you. And he knows that if he gives in, he might hurt you.

If he wants something from you, he will flash his infamous puppy dog eyes. (Bottom photo below), But if he is annoyed with you, he will make the deadly glare (Top photo below)

So, just try your best to keep him calm and happy. Even if that is through means you don think are necessary 💚

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ilongfor-the-arts · 1 year

Note

A REQUEST FOR LIP PLEASEEE!! him getting hammered in a party then he calls you to rescue him or smth then you gotta drag him and drive him back home. he asks you sleep over and you stayed! thats basically my idea u can develop it however u like <333 can be fluff alone or added w a bit of spice🤭 but we’ll enjoy it nevertheless

Drunk Mind, Sober Heart

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x fem! Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, angst (nothing happens bc Lip is drunk), dirty talk, language

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.5k

An ear splitting noise startled me awake. I shot up, my eyes flinging open, only to discover that my bedroom was completely dark.

Was that my alarm?

No, there is no way in hell it was eight in the morning already.

I groaned in frustration and reached for my bedside table. As my eyes adjusted, I ran my palm along the smooth wood, my bedroom gradually coming into view. Unfortunately, my vision was not properly adjusted to perceive the small black box. My hand pushed a mysterious object, and a soft thud echoed.

“Shit!”

I exclaimed. I threw my torso off the bed and inspected the carpeted floor for my phone.

Whoever was calling me at this hour was gonna get it.

When I realized I didn't have much time before the call went to voicemail, I quickened my pace, grunting from the unexpected effort.

“Yes!”

The artificial glow burned into my retinas as I flipped the phone over to expose the screen. I was forced to squint so I could see who had the audacity to call me at such an inconvenient hour.

I rolled my eyes.

Of fucking course.

With a sour attitude, I accepted the call. I was miffed at Lip for ruining my perfect night of restful sleep.

“What? This better be good Lip, or I’m gonna be really pissed.”

I flopped onto the bed and fixed my gaze on the boring ceiling. On the other end of the line, there was a cacophony of voices and screams. It was so loud that it resembled a roar. To prevent going deaf, I moved the phone a few inches from my ear.

“Heyyyyyy Y/N. How are ya?”

Every syllable lacked clarity. Oh, come on, why did I have to be the one getting booty called tonight? I disregarded his inquiry and instead put forth my own.

“Lip, what time is it?”

I inquired in part to gauge his level of inebriation and in part because I was too sluggish to remove my phone from my ear to check the time.

“Uhhhh- that’s a great question.”

There was rustling from the other end of the line.

“It’s 9 oh 3.”

I cocked a brow.

“You sure about that?”

“Uh-hold on. Gimmie a sec.”

Rustling.

“Do you read from left to right or right to left?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. At the very least, this would make a good story in a few days after I recovered from my extreme sleep deprivation.

“Left to right, at least in English.”

“Okay, thanks. You’re so smart.”

Rustling.

“Okay, it’s 3 oh 9. Well… 3:10 now.”

I tried to shake the sleep from my brain by closing my eyes and gently kneading my soft eyelids.

“That’s just perfect. You do remember me saying I had an 8 am class today, right?”

“Yes I do. I just-I lost my phone, and yours is the-the only phone number I remember.”

He had never been this drunk before. Lip had a very high tolerance for alcohol. The number of drinks he must have consumed to get to this point is beyond my comprehension. His speech was becoming more slurred by the second, almost as if he were nodding off.

I completely ignored the fact that he used his phone to call me. He was comprehending very little at this moment.

“How many drinks have you had, Lip?”

Silence.

“Uh-that’s another great question…”

His voice trailed off. I sure hope he didn't doze off on me.

“Alright Lip, don’t fall asleep.”

I threw myself into a sitting position and switched on the bedside table lamp. The room instantly filled with bright light. My eyes watered. I squinted to accommodate the abrupt change.

“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear as I reached down to put on my slippers.

“Uh-I don’t know the address.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Alright, well, can you give me any information that could help me find you?”

I stood, the phone pressed to my ear. I threw a light jacket over my shoulders to hide the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra.

“Uh-it’s down the street from an old gas station.”

I knew exactly where he was. There was only one party host who lived next to an old gas station.

“Are you at Christian’s house?”

“No. Well, actually, I don’t know.”

I walked to my front door, shaking my head in disbelief. I plucked my car keys from the wood tray by the door, twirling them between my fingers. The silence that engulfed my apartment complex was deafening compared to the soft jingle.

“I’ll come and get ya’. Just give me ten minutes. Don’t move a muscle.”

“Okay. I’ll be waitin’ for ya on the front lawn.”

“Perfect.”

I drove slowly, not in a hurry to arrive at Christian's house. Lip could handle himself when he was drunk. Sure, he said stupid shit at times, but if I truly believed he was a danger to himself, I would increase my urgency.

Not even a meek flicker of light could be seen in the windows of nearby houses. My car was engulfed in darkness. Everything was pitch black save for a few street lamps that did little to penetrate the gloom. The world was still and silent.

It reminded me of the twilight zone. I was imprisoned in an environment where time did not exist. I was alone. There were no people who could guide me. I was trapped.

That was the impression I had up until I arrived at Christian's house. The street was lined with parked cars. There were sober individuals mixed in with those who were stumbling drunk. Christian’s house was bursting at the seams. People could be seen congregating on the lawn, in the upper windows, shoving their way inside, and shoving their way out. I stopped my car in front of the grass. Sure enough, Lip was standing on the front lawn, gazing at the street with a blank stare.

I giggled. He looked lost.

I opened my car window and protruded my head outside.

“Lip Gallagher! Your chauffeur is here!”

I shouted sarcastically. My joke elicited a few giggles from various partygoers. A stupidly uneven smile appeared on Lip’s face as he awoke from his stupor.

“Oh hi, Y/N! I didn’t even know you were coming!”

“Get in Lip. I’m gonna take you home.”

Lip walked over, nearly tripping ten times in the short distance he had to cover. I laughed at his erratic behavior.

“You're gonna sit in the back, Lip?”

I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. His head was leaning against the headrest, and his eyes were closed. He looked serene. Lip jerked awake. His half lidded eyes hurriedly scanned the back of my car as if expecting company.

“Uh-no. I’ll sit in the front.”

I anticipated that he would exit the vehicle and move to the front seat. Instead, he launched himself over the center console.

“Jesus Lip!”

I exclaimed, a flurry of limbs obstructing my view. His body relaxed as he sank into the passenger seat.

“That’s better. It’s much more comfortable up here.”

I scoffed and decided not to participate in this pointless conversation.

Lip didn't speak once during the entire drive back to his apartment, which surprised me. His breathing evened out. I could only assume that he had dozed off. His head would softly crash into the window when I crossed a bump in the road. Although the position didn't appear to be comfortable, Lip was too far gone to bother.

I parked in front of Lip’s dorm complex.

“Lip.”

The mere mention of his name caused Lip to instantly become alert, his hands fumbling all over my car.

“Yes?”

I grinned.

“Do you need help walking or can you manage?”

“I got it.”

Lip stumbled out of the vehicle and looked up at his run-down dorm building. Thank God he was at a dorm and not in his chaotic home. Only occasionally have I had to pick up Lip from a party. Yet, I always seem to run into one of Fiona's conquests who is using the cover of night to elude detection.

“This isn’t my house.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Lip, you moved. You live in a dorm now.”

Lip squinted, still not convinced.

“Oh!”

His eyes widened as his face relaxed.

“Yeah, I remember now.”

We moved slowly as we ascended the stairs. Lip kept stumbling forward, tripping, falling, then shooting back up. The cycle was then repeated ten steps later. Eventually I caved and slung his arm over my shoulder to quicken the process.

“Are your roommates home?”

I wanted to ignite a casual conversation because I could feel Lip growing heavier. I was struggling under his weight and quickly ran out of breath.

“Yes. Actually, no. I don’t think so. I think they left town.”

“Where did they go?”

“They went… to- somewhere.”

Thank God. I could throw Lip on his bed, tuck him in, and leave without any awkward encounters.

I threw Lip’s dorm room open and reached for the lightswitch.

“Noooooo. Don’t turn on the lights.”

I reconciled.

“Alright. Whatever you say.”

It was the home stretch. Lip’s bed was in sight.

I threw him onto it. Under his weight, the springs groaned loudly, disturbing the peace.

“Alright Lip, looks like my work here is done.”

I couldn't help but smile as I turned to leave. Even though I adored Lip and knew this would make a great story, I was eager to crawl into bed.

“Wait…”

He said meekly.

I turned, exhaling an exasperated sigh.

“What now?”

In the ten seconds that I was looking elsewhere, he had somehow gotten himself into a seated position.

“Come here.”

With the most threatening voice his inebriated mind could conjure, he demanded. I rolled my eyes as I approached him.

His expression was sluggish. He seemed to be in a drug-induced coma. Lip’s eyes were half lidded and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned in a silly manner.

I came to a halt about a foot and a half in front of him.

“Come closer.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a step forward.

“Closerrrrrr.”

He was undoubtably fucking with me. But whatever, I’ll play his stupid game. I took another step forward, our knees brushing.

A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he glanced at me through his thick lashes.

Shit.

What have I gotten myself into?

Lip encircled my thighs with his large hands, tugging me forward until the waistband of my shorts was level with his nose.

The air hitched in my throat.

“Lip!”

I exclaimed.

Lip began pressing tender kisses to the tops of my bare thighs, maintaining intense eye contact.

“Come on Y/N, live a little.”

I chuckled, my face flushed with embarrassment, despite the fact that Lip was completely unaware of his actions.

“Lip you really are drunk out of your mind.”

Lip chuckled against my skin.

“Maybe.”

He mumbled.

“No, not maybe, definitely.”

His voice was remarkably crisp and clear. Lip was in his element. He was truly demonstrating his ability to woo any woman, even when his mind was under the influence of alcohol.

“Okay, I’m a little drunk.”

I couldn’t deny that he looked unbelievably sexy with his hot mouth trailing along my thighs.

“But I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me inside you.”

His tone was sultry.

How did he manage to flirt drunk better than I could flirt stone cold sober?

Smug bastard.

“I-“

I couldn't refute his accusation because he was completely correct. I could already feel the wetness pooling in my panties and all he had done was kiss my thighs.

“Come on Y/N, just let me fuck you.”

He pushed the hem of my shirt upwards, exposing a thin strip of my stomach. Lip’s fiery touch ignited an expanse of goosebumps along my soft skin.

He pressed several hot, open mouthed kisses to my lower abdomen.

I shuddered.

My knees began to shake.

Jesus.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and meekly pushed him away. Lip resisted, his mouth remaining pressed against my body.

“You’re so tense all the fuckin’ time.”

I gulped, squeezing my eyes shut. If I continued to maintain eye contact, I would never have the strength to put an end to this.

“You need to relax… and I can make you relax. I can eat you out and make you cum all over my face- I can fuck you real slow- make you feel really good-“

His warm mouth was hovering just above my waistband.

“Lip, we’re friends-“

“Friends fuck. Friends fuck all the time.”

He moved a hand forward, rubbing soft circles into my clothed clit.

Jesus, he was touching me through two layers of clothing and I was still getting insanely hot and bothered.

No.

Hell no.

“Sure, but sober friends don’t fuck drunk friends.”

I was more assertive in my actions. I pushed him away from me. Lip's mouth disconnected from my stomach with a soft pop. His hands landed in his lap.

“No?”

He asked with a sarcastic pout.

“Maybe another time.”

I said despite knowing Lip wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

“Okay. But I got ya thinkin’ about it, didn’t I?”

He asked smugly.

“Yes, you did.”

Lip fell to one side, his head hitting the pillow.

“Will you stay with me?”

I chuckled.

“What are you, seven?”

Lip groaned, his eyes shut.

“No-I’m at least 10.”

Despite my jokes, I wanted to be with Lip. I'd possessed a small crush on him for the many years we'd been friends, but I wasn't sure if it was something I should pursue. It was always a minor nagging thought in the back of my mind, never something to take seriously.

Until tonight.

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

I crawled into bed with him, slinging an arm around his waist.

“Love ya Y/N.”

His voice was slurred to the point where his words could barely be understood. But I recognized what he was saying. When it was time to say goodbye, he always told me he loved me (platonically, of course). I'm grateful that drunk him still clung to our traditions.

“Love you too Lip.”

Lip smelled like stale tobacco and cheap alcohol. It wafted into my nose in waves, lulling me to sleep.

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blueberry-pride · 1 year

Note

hi, can i ask for a part two for this with Floyd,Azul,Riddle,Malleus and Ruggie please?

If u accept request rn?

Don't Deny It Babe~ Part 2

warnings: semi-proof read Berry: I didn't think that the previous post would gain a 2nd part so thank you for the chance! as always, enjoy! <3

"W-wait, are you sure?" Riddle would have a brief mental pause. He'd then have that cute pouty expression when he's embarrassed thus furthering your point. *cue his blush*

Riddle would be a bashful and stuttering mess especially if he's present or within earshot of you talking about his 'cute' qualities to others. He has a reputation of being the strict dorm leader after all!

There would be times that you'd find this young gent to be quiet and a lil timid as you continue to ramble on cuz slowly overtime he'd like this approachable view that you see in him.

Eventually, He'd slowly accept your image of him but I'd imagine you would catch him puffing up his chest as he tries to make himself more refined in the mirror. (Why do I lowkey see him getting "manly" advice from Trey and Cater?) Antics aside, he'd get all warm and fuzzy thinking about your comments, putting a very soft smile to his face whenever he thinks about it <3

If there's anyone who doubts your views, He'd simply watch you debate or argue from afar cuz he enjoys seeing you be so passionate even if the topic is about him. If the others laugh or starts making fun of either you or him tho ...just remember, he IS watching *looks to Ace*

"Uh...what?" Ruggie's ears flattened at the comment. "You think I'm CUTE?" he spoke with wide eyes. I feel like this wouldn't be the first time this hyena was called that compliment. Most likely his grandma. Meemaw Bucchi: *pinches his cheeks* awww you look so cute all dressed up in that uniform!

He'd be the type to ask you the why's, when's, and how's or just whatever type of reasoning you've had to decided out of all descriptions, you chose 'cute' for a guy like him. I see him also being the type to check himself out in front of mirror but in a very confused state.

He'd at first don't want ANY of the Savanaclaw guys hear about this. (he might as well be chopped meat if Leona ever got a word of this) So the moment he'd sense that you're about to go in one your tangents about him, he'd start messing with ya like tickling or hell even spinning you around just to whisk the two of you away from curious eyes and ears.

But I supposed overtime, this hyena beastman would be curious enough to try and use his this 'cute' side to soften people up for opportunities. (Outside of campus most likely) Of course he'd first test it out on you and often times you'd let him cuz after all, who couldn't say no to such a face?

But here's the thing, you're definitely not safe from HIM calling you cute and all~ Imagine he'd playfully steal your pen or something after class and as you try to grab for it he'd give a fleeting peck on the cheek. "Oh would you look at that." He chuckled. "Guess we're both the cute ones now eh (Y/N)~?" goodluck

"eh...HEH?" He stammered. He tries a little too hard to regain his composure afterwards but you'd know that your comments shot through to his classy exterior. Now you're left with a blushing and babbling octo-man.

Similar to Ruggie, our boi also has a lot of questions but the key difference is that he deals with them...internally. You, along with the rest of Octavinelle and even Jamil would notice his scrunched up face at random points throughout the day. A million and one questions running through his mind on why you'd think of him like that.

It was already too late for him because he already overheard you talking about this with the leech twins. He might as well evaporate at that point. You know the gif of the dog smiling while the room is on fire and saying 'This is fine'? That's our boi Azul right there

It takes a while for him to open up to the idea. He takes baby steps by also teasing you and showing you his perceived 'cute' side to you in private just to entertain you and see his precious pearl smile.

Overtime, he'd enjoy it and thinks it's also the best thing ever to rub it in people's face as you talk their ear off especially Jamil. "My precious pearl that is (Y/N) lovingly proclaims that I am the cute one, so that is now law."

"Hmm...You mean" Floyd tilt his head to the side. "Koebi-chan thinks I'm...cute?" He mostly says this out loud to confirm it to himself. After a few seconds he smiles gleefully towards you. Get ready for a wild ride (Y/N)!

Every time he thinks about it or you'd say it again. He'd chuckle and spin you around like as if there weren't any other people around. THAT'S how happy he is. His classmates and the rest of his dorm would find it a lil terrifying seeing this man just humming, kicking his feet in glee during class or in the lounge repeating the words "They think I'm cute~ my Koebi-chan thinks I'm cute~"

I could see him sometimes using this as an excuse to skip his shift at the lounge. Poor Azul cutting his lifespan in half every time he heard Floyd utter the words "Because Koebi-chan said so, wouldn't want to ruin a cute face like mine from all the stress. Maybe you should try it sometime Azul~"

You guys probably already see this one coming but he would be the scary shadow looming over you as you explain your side that your boyfriend is in indeed the cute one out of the two of y'all. 'You dare say otherwise to my (Y/N)?'

Threats aside, I know that Floyd genuinely does love it when you call him cute. I also know that he's clever enough that people would find him scary due to his height and his personality so he lowkey gets all soft when it comes to you, acting all bashfully as he hugs with all the adoration he has for you <3

"Could you please repeat what you've just told me?" He'd ask. "You find me...cute, Child of Man?" Genuinely surprised and has the shooketh or cute dumb-founded expression we all know and love.

This dark Fae overall finds it amusing, chuckles to himself from thinking about it from time to time. The memory of you semi-debating to him, that he, one of the most strongest and formiddable mages in Twisted Wonderland, is adorable.

Diasomnia or just the entirety of NRC is often concerned and question about your state of mind but then you'd shoo them off or rather, they 'unexpectedly have a change of heart and mind' and totally not from the dark aura with horns behind you.

He likes watching you debate about it especially if its his family in Diasomnia (looking at you Sebek) He thinks that when you're like this, he finds it sweet and endearing to defend your case about your judgement of him.

As the mischievous Fae that he often is, I see him doing small tests for you, showing off terrifying magical shi like shaking the ground beneath you, skies littered with thunder and lightning or hell surrounding you in a circle of green flames all to see if you still call him cute afterwards. (GG Night Raven College )

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twstファンアート #twst wonderland #twst headcanons #twst x y/n #twst x reader #twst x mc #riddle rosehearts x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts #ruggie bucci #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia

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tsukimefuku · 7 days

Text

CHAPTER ONE: PUTATIVE SELF DEFENSE ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni!

❀ putative self-defense.

when a person believes they are in imminent danger and acts in what they believe would be self-defense, when, in reality, the threat does not exist or is not as severe as perceived.

wc: 5.9K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ summary.

after your roommate fails to replenish the coffee in your dorm room, you drag your insomniac ass towards the cafeteria before heading to your first criminal law class. unfortunately, things don't go as expected — it's so, so much worse than you could have anticipated. at least, your personal torturer is very good-looking, and has the most beautiful hooked nose you have ever seen.

❀ Tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. silly slow-burn rom-com between professor and college student (this is purely a work of fiction, okay guys?) reader is kind of a mess (like, literally). this is cliché with some twists. nobara is the best and worst roomie ever. nobamaki is a thing here. nobody likes cafeteria coffee. higuruma has a best friend, i'm so happy about that. second hand embarrassment. misunderstandings are talked through and resolved. higuruma is a little unhinged, and we love him for that.

thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing this 🥺

Your morning was a clusterfuck.

Diving your face in ice cold water did absolutely nothing to wake you from your anxiety ridden all-nighter. The world felt like a half dazed hallucination by this point.

Your energy was running so low this morning that you wound up putting your jeans on top of your pajamas pants, throwing a coat over the rest of the mess, and twirling your hair into something that could barely be considered a bun, topping it all off with the ugliest scarf you had — a red polka-dot scarf.

It seemed to be a taunting from the Gods — this was, for some supernatural reason, the only scarf you ever found when you were running late, and you hated the thing, but feared that if you threw it away, some higher power would punish you, and you'd never find another scarf to wear.

You were also scared that if you tried taking a shower, you might end up sleeping under it.

"What are you doing?" your roommate asked, as you pulled your face from the bowl filled with water and ice cubes. "Jesus, you look like hell."

"Trying to crawl my way back to the world of the living. It's not working."

Nobara walked behind you and opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a single slice of cheese and rolling it up to eat it.

"Oh, a breakfast fit for the champions" you mocked, while patting your face with a tea towel.

She scoffed. "Get off my ass, I didn't have the time for groceries."

"Oh, you totally had the time, you just spent it all with your girlfriend in her room!"

Nobara grabbed a crumpled tissue that she found over the counter and threw it in your direction.

You dodged it because you weren’t sure what the fuck that tissue had been used for cleaning.

"Leave me the hell alone! I deserved it before classes started," she complained, pouting.

You laughed as you walked towards the coffee machine, to see if some liquid energy would be enough to pump you through the day.

"Aren't you supposed to be out there already? Weren't you going to head into criminal law today or whatever?" she asked.

And you were, actually.

"So, how is he?" you inquired, tapping around the coffee machine and behind it, looking for the coffee powder.

"Professor Higuruma, you mean?" Nobara got up and walked towards her bed, throwing herself over it like a rag doll. "I still haven't had class with him, but according to Maki, he's kinda weird."

"Your girlfriend's definition of weird for the male faculty members is too broad, Nobara. She said the same thing about at least four or five professors."

She shrugged. "According to gossip, professor Higuruma had to take some time off academia after his PhD because of a mental breakdown."

"Well, he is the guy that got two masters degrees simultaneously and one PhD right after. I guess that does things to a person" you mocked, opening the cabinet drawer. Where is the coffee?

"Oh, that's why he's the head of two chairs?!"

"Yup, Criminal Law and Criminal Procedure Law."

"Well, from what Maki has told me, he likes to quiz his students on the spot randomly," Nobara stated as she pulled her phone from her night stand and began texting.

After looking all around and not finding the coffee powder, you were very much annoyed.

"Nobara, where is the coffee?"

"We don't have any," she answered nonchalantly, still with her eyes glued to her phone.

You whipped your head towards her so fast, you nearly hurt your neck.

"Nobara, I need coffee. This is not a drill! It's my first criminal law class!"

"Oh, future criminal defense attorney, you definitely need some coffee, no one in their good mind would be wearing whatever the hell that is," she noted, pointing at you. "Especially that ugly red thing around your neck. Why do you still have that?"

"Ugh, now I'll have to go into the cafeteria before class to drink their awful coffee, and it's entirely your fault. Wardrobe editing rights are officially revoked!"

You stepped towards the door grabbing your bag as you heard her ask, "Hhey, is that your pajamas top?"

"No!" you replied, pulling your coat over your hello kitty pajamas top, before going out.

***

I can't fucking believe this.

You got in line to buy an overpriced $2 coffee — overpriced because it basically tasted like dirty water flavored with the souls of the damned — as you looked at your watch nearly every twenty seconds or so.

This coffee was so bad you usually tried to cover it up with milk, syrup and whatever else they had at their clients' disposal, but the aftertaste was always — always — completely cursed.

While in line, you noticed the guy who stood in front of you, and got distracted from your hurry by his back, as silly as that might sound.

He was tall — not the tallest, but at least a head above you — and his black hair was neatly cut by the tail end where his neck met his black suit collar. His posture was a little crooked to the side, one shoulder hanging a little lower than the other, and it felt kind of… charming?

Realizing you were nearly burning a hole in the man's back with your eyes, you averted your gaze elsewhere.

This is pathetic. I'm pathetic.

You figured that you had to be really sleep-deprived — and, honestly, kinda lonely — to be simping over some random guy's back.

Not only that, but while waiting in line at the campus cafeteria, the less sexy place to ever exist.

Class. I need coffee. I need to get to class. I'm pathetic. I’m also almost late.

And almost late you were. Somehow, you managed to wait just until you'd be a little too fumbled on the clock in order to get your ass out of your dorm room's bed to do something about it, and never even bothered to check if there would be any coffee to be made.

Just one of the many minor self-sabotaging shit you pulled against yourself from time to time.

After grabbing the damned drink and tainting it with further things to mask its terrible taste, your sleepless and nearly-late ass, when running across the cafeteria, body slammed by accident the same guy that was in line right in front of you. He was then covered in your coffee — an unholy concoction of said beverage, cold water, milk, and pancake syrup for sweetening.

Not only that, but to top it all off, you chuckled right after you began apologizing, actually laughing at the poor man.

It wasn't because the situation was even remotely funny, or that you were cackling at his humiliation. You just had the laughter response to stressful or embarrassing situations.

At church, during the national anthem, at an accident, or in the middle of a very hard test — whenever you were really stressed, you found yourself having to hold your urge to cackle.

Unfortunately, even after twenty-seven years, this was something you hadn’t quite mastered yet.

As you tried to grab some napkins from the counter behind him, you slipped, ceasing the laughter immediately.

Instant karma. Seems fair.

Before you hit the ground, though, he held you by your waist and with a hand on your arm. You felt the taut muscles under the suit enveloping you and pulling you back on your feet in one dexterous, swift motion. His shoulders were not slouched anymore.

"Shit, shit, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, trying to shuffle yourself away from him. His grip was tight, clearly from someone that had just been startled, and his body felt warm — especially considering you had just covered the poor guy in hot liquid.

As you parted yourself from him, you finally took a good look at the man.

The best words to describe him right now were disheveled mess. His tie was crumpled, his white button shirt had a massive brown stain from the coffee spilled, his short black hair was messily pulled back leaving a few strands out to frame his forehead, and his ashy black eyes were clearly surprised as he tried to check if you were alright.

And that beautiful hooked nose.

He was definitely brooding and good-looking — the tired, overworked, insomniac, bags under his eyes and two steps away from sleeping on his feet kind of good-looking.

The front certainly matches the back.

Then, realizing your mind was doing whirls about his appearance, you shook your head for a moment, dispersing the thoughts away.

"It's fine, just let me-" he answered, taping his hands around his suit, seemingly looking for something.

You had nearly forgotten you were tight on time until you heard the bell ringing. He turned around startled when it rang, cussing something under his breath, which gave you the perfect opportunity to dash away.

"I'm very sorry! I'm really late for my next class, I need to run, but I'm so, so sorry!" you blurted as you took off running, feeling a tinge of guilt knowing full well you had left him alone to fend off for himself with that abominable coffee stain.

So, why clusterfuck?

When you arrived in class, having lost yourself on campus twice when running around like a dizzy duck in a fatigued haze trying to find the right classroom, you saw who was sitting at the professor's desk in front of the entire classroom.

That huge coffee spill was pretty visible, even if he had now closed his suit jacket on top of it.

Shit.

The man was fumbling around with some papers over his desk with one hand while he adjusted his glasses — that he wasn't wearing earlier — with the other.

You sat in the back of the classroom, which had an amphitheater architecture to it. If you were lucky enough, though, maybe he wouldn't notice you.

However, upon further inspection, you noticed that the back of the class was especially empty, and realized at that moment you were standing out like a sore thumb.

This couldn't get any worse, could it?

You wished for a hole to appear right under your feet and drag you down.

"So, good morning to you all. I apologize for my late arrival. As you can all tell, I had to face some unforeseen circumstances," he began, pulling on the edge of his jacket suit to reveal the brown-colored Rorschach of shame plastered over his white shirt.

Some students laughed, and you recoiled in your seat, praying this was all just a first-day-in-class-embarrassment type of dream.

It wasn't.

"Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Higuruma Hiromi, and I'll be your professor. I hope you all can learn a thing or two from me," he said, before stepping in front of his desk and sitting over it.

"So, I'd like to begin this class with the following question: what is fairness?"

Some hands jumped up, and you slid yourself under your seat even further, surely to hit the ground if you sunk any deeper.

Higuruma's eyes began darting around the classroom.

Something you'd learn in a second about him was that he liked to poke at the students who didn't seem keen in participating, just to create some stormy engagement and get truly unexpected answers.

The ones who lifted their hands, the classic know-it-alls, were the students he considered to be remarkably boring and utterly predictable.

"You," he stated, and it took you a few seconds — and multiple blinks — to realize his finger was pointing in your direction. "Girl with the red scarf, tell me what you think fairness is."

You were at a complete loss for words.

"I… I… Fairness…"

Then silence.

You couldn't muster up anything to say to save your life.

You really should have slept better.

He sighed, and tilted his head to the side.

"Guess I'll have to demonstrate it."

Nobody understood what the professor meant, and much to everyone's surprise, he began walking up towards you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did so.

Then, looking straight at you, he stood beside the exit door, and gestured towards it.

"Girl with the red scarf, please, leave this classroom."

Before you could actually be offended that he didn't even ask your name, you felt your stomach drop, and your face glow a warm, deeply uncomfortable red.

Out of everything you thought could happen, getting kicked out of the classroom within the first five minutes into a lecture wasn’t even listed as one of the top 10 alternatives.

What the fuck? Isn't that a little excessive?

Speechless, you grabbed your backpack from the ground, and lifted yourself up, standing there for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded. The classroom was silent enough that a needle falling on the ground could be heard.

And then, suddenly, the urge came upon you, raining down like a hailstorm.

Laughter bubbled up your throat, and you coughed a little, pursing your lips shut, scrunching your face all around, trying to avoid any sound from leaking out.

He looked at you a little puzzled, and seemed to be wondering if you were about to have a stroke.

You began walking towards the door, but as you were about to cross it, he extended his arm in front of you, blocking your passageway.

"Stay there for a second."

"What?" you asked, coughing a little to shy the laughter away, and his face was once again briefly puzzled when he heard your voice.

A few seconds later, he softly shook off whatever thought that was, and resumed speaking.

"Is this fair? Asking a student to leave a classroom because they failed to answer an open-ended question?" he inquired the other students, waiting for someone to answer.

"N-no, it's not," some guy answered from the front.

Higuruma gestured for you to seat back where you were, and you clumsily stepped your way back, face flustered in utter and absolute embarrassment. This was definitely how bad it all could get. Is he dunking on me for spilling coffee on him and running? That's petty.

The man was certifiably insane. He was lucky to be so good-looking.

"And why it is not?" he proceeded with the questioning, slowly walking back towards the front of the class again.

"It would be excessive to do so," another student answered.

"Correct. Precisely that, it would be excessive," Higuruma chimed, sitting back over his desk, legs mildly spread as he opened his suit jacket and mindlessly smoothed out his tie with one of his hands. "Criminal Law isn't just about subsuming a person's actions to something the law has described as a crime, and then mechanically submitting said person to some randomly prescribed penalty. Fairness is the most vital and important theoretical foundation when studying criminal law. Not answering a question could be considered some type of in-class offense, sure, and expulsion from the classroom is one possible way to punish the deviant student, but it would be disproportionate and unreasonable to do so."

His gravely voice filled that classroom with no effort whatsoever, and it was an actually pretty good exposition.

It was one thing to describe what a sunset looks like, and another, very different, was to actually show one happening in real time. Words paled in comparison to the crimson, purplish sky engulfing the end of a day.

Most of your teachers, up until this point, had simply begun writing something on the white board at the start of each class, and made less than memorable remarks while spitting out the theory written in the recommended books list in the syllabus. So distant, so abstract, so… Detached from real life.

This was thought-provoking. This was enthralling. Well, this was the reason you enrolled in law school in the first place.

For a moment, you forgot this professor had just exercised his petty revenge on you, propping yourself up with trepidation. Your tiredness was completely forgotten as his monologue ensued.

He was the real deal.

"Fairness. It will be your guide to assess if a given penalty after a verdict is adequate or not, if someone who acted in self-defense should be found innocent or exceeded their rights in doing so… If the law itself is good enough as it is or should be subject to change, because a penalty might be too high for a seemingly innocuous offense that shouldn't even be a crime in the first place."

Higuruma paused for a moment to let his students simmer on his words.

"Fairness is the be-all and end-all of Criminal Law. I need everyone to understand this before we proceed, because fairness will be our primary lens in this classroom when studying the subject. So, can I trust that all of you understood what fairness looks like, rather than what it can be conceptualized as?"

He darted his eyes in your direction, and you saw yourself unconsciously nodding in acquiescence.

You were sure you caught a whiff of a smile on his face right before he resumed his introductory class of principles in criminal law.

***

“We are the only nerds that do this in the teacher’s lounge,” Higuruma stated, as he made his next move on the checkers board.

“You’re probably right,” Higuruma’s best friend replied in his pristine striped gray suit vest, as he thought for a second before making his own move and taking three consecutive pieces of Higuruma’s checkers as he did.

Higuruma groaned in response. Why does he always win on checkers? Goddammit.

“How are you so good at this, Kento? Let’s play chess, just so then I get to win” he complained, leaning back against his chair. “ I can see you winning this one in three moves.”

Nanami huffed. “Checkers was your idea. Besides, we both have our classes soon, there wouldn’t be enough time for a proper chess game.”

Higuruma removed his glasses and slid them inside one of his suit jacket’s inner pockets, brushing the tips of his fingers against his closed eyelids. He couldn’t catch a wink of rest the previous night, anxious to be back in a classroom after such a long time.

It all became very blurry, so he put his glasses back on.

Higuruma didn’t know if he was eager, nervous, happy or dreading this day.

Perhaps a mix of everything and then some.

“I needed something to wake me up. I’ve barely slept, and I’m in dire need of some coffee.”

“You could try drinking the coffee from the teacher’s lounge,” Nanami pointed out, gesturing his head in the direction of a creepy looking and unkempt thermal bottle. “I wouldn’t advise you on it, though. Only professor Ieiri has been brave enough to drink it so far.”

“I guess I’ll take my chances with the foul cafeteria coffee, I might survive that.”

Nanami smiled as he looked at his friend.

“You’re too overly dramatic.”

At that, Higuruma scoffed.

“And you’re too underly dramatic. That’s why I teach the passionate, great chair of Criminal Law, and you’re responsible for the boring, sleep-inducing chair of Commercial Law.”

“It pays the bills pretty well at my firm,” the other professor retorted.

Higuruma lifted an eyebrow, as if offended that Nanami thought that argument would dissuade him from his stance.

They were both silent for a moment before Nanami spoke again, noticing the deep eye bags on Higuruma's face.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“No more than the usual,” Higuruma replied, shuffling on his chair, still focused on the checkers board.

Nanami lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, silent for a while, and Higuruma sighed.

“I mean it. I’m fine.”

Still a little unsure, Nanami nodded.

“Okay. Just reach out and come to my office if you need anything,” he offered, slight concern masked under the monotone of his voice.

“Aw, he likes me,” Higuruma playfully chanted. “So thoughtful of you, my dear.”

“Tsk, shut up,” Nanami scoffed as he got up, taking his neatly folded blazer on his bent arm, “and it’d take me two moves instead of three to have this victory over you.”

“Seriously?!” Higuruma exclaimed, glancing at the board. Upon further inspection, he realized his friend was right. “Shit.”

“Hiromi, go drink your coffee at once. You’re barely functional right now, there is absolutely no way you could teach a class in the state you’re in.”

“Kento, I could teach criminal law in my sleep,” Higuruma mused before lifting himself up. Nanami sighed as Higuruma exited the room.

***

This might be the worst coffee I’ve ever drank, Higuruma thought to himself as he put his cup over the counter and removed his glasses to pinch on his nose. It was all but a failed attempt to air out the foul taste of that watered down, sad excuse for a coffee.

He tried drinking it with nothing — no sugar, no milk, no sweetener, but this atrocity begged for anything to mask the old powder aftertaste.

After folding his glasses and throwing them in one of his suit’s inner pockets, Higuruma let out a heartfelt sigh, just hoping for things to go smoothly that day.

He'd have his hopes torn to shreds in seconds.

Some loud, hasty steps coming in his direction caught his attention, but as soon as he turned to face whoever that was, Higuruma was met with a hot splash all over his shirt and tie.

You have to be kidding me.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!”

He heard a female voice coming from the blurred face right in front of him. Her voice was what he’d call an unusually sweet — if worried — voice. It had a genuinely kind melodic quality to it.

Even if hasty, her words sounded like a heartfelt apology.

Then, she… chuckled?

Hm… What?

She seemed to lean over dramatically and grab something from behind his back.

However, on the way back with her arm, her body brushed against his in a worrying fashion, and Higuruma quickly realized she was about to fall. Even though he was over 24 hours sleepless, adrenaline and his reflexes kicked in, as he held her before she could hit the ground, pulling her against him to stand on her feet.

He was still somewhat disoriented from lack of sleep, and failed to realize his hand was still holding her arm intently before the woman squiggled away from his grip.

There was a red blurry thing under her also blurred face.

Only then did he realize he should probably see her face and talk to her properly about the debacle.

The professor said it was fine and began tapping around his suit, not remembering in which pocket exactly he threw his glasses in. However, before he found it, the bell that indicated the time for the first class rang, and Higuruma realized he had completely lost track of time.

"Fuck," first class and already running late.

The woman seemed to apologize and ran away, leaving him dumbfounded.

The professor finally managed to find his glasses, fishing them out of his pocket and putting them on, glad that his next class was at the building just around the corner.

He walked hastily towards it, and got there in less than a couple of minutes, seizing the opportunity to check on his state on the mirror as he entered the elevator.

The coffee stain was humongous and very evident on his white shirt, but he was glad that at least his black tie seemed to fend off fine from the beverage. As Higuruma passed his fingers over the fabric of both pieces, however, it was somewhat sticky.

He let out a disheartened sigh, stepping out on the corridor and into the classroom, placing his briefcase on the side of his desk.

Now, what will I teach these people today?

Hiromi began ruffling around his papers trying to find the course syllabus, and realized he hadn't brought it with him. These papers were nothing but useless administrative shenanigans, so he decided to wing it in any way he could to illustrate criminal law for the students.

The thing is, how can you effectively grab someone's attention when it's 7 o'clock in the morning, and most people are completely hungover?

With adrenaline, of course.

***

The rest of the class went on without a hiccup, and you had made much more notes than you anticipated you would. His voice had a weird calming and focusing effect on you, as much as you hated admitting it — also, it wasn't so hard accompanying him walking around making his exposition when his face looked like that.

However, you decided you'd talk to him, first off because it would be incredibly uncomfortable to keep going to both of his classes for six months without ever addressing the coffee faux pas, and second because you had just been victimized by the pettiest revenge known to mankind by a college professor.

You kind of deserved it, but still. It was pretty immature, even if he was Dr. Genius who just taught the best class you had ever seen in your life.

"So, students, we'll have a quick test this week," Higuruma stated, "the Dean has requested that all professors use these to assess your knowledge every month, and I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible."

Many sighs and displeased grunts could be heard around the classroom. He leaned over his desk as he sat, putting his papers away in his briefcase.

"I know, I don't like it either, but at least you'll only need to study a week's worth of content, not a month."

Some hm, fine, ugh, were uttered by the students as they left the classroom. You walked hesitantly behind them all, waiting for everyone to leave before you could speak to him alone.

You were already going to be remembered as the girl mock expelled from the classroom. No one needed to know you also had assaulted their professor with a desecrated cup of coffee before that.

As you stepped in front of his desk, he lifted his gaze to meet yours.

"Yes?"

Something you hadn't anticipated was that looking at him — and his hooked nose — up close like this would jumble your thoughts around.

Oh, shit. He's handsome.

Dumbified, you spat out the first thing you could think of.

"So, professor, I'm the student you fake expelled earlier," you stated, realizing he obviously already knew that.

Brilliant. Off to a great start.

Higuruma nodded, feeling something prickling at the back of his brain as he heard your voice for a second time.

"What did you think? Was it a good way to convey this class motif?" he asked, finally closing his briefcase and putting it on the ground, completely ignoring the fact that it was probably an uncomfortable experience for all of the people involved, especially you.

You were a little incredulous at how oblivious he seemed to be, and it annoyed you. Was this out of good heart, or was he playing dumb?

"It was a good exposition, professor, but I wanted to talk about something else," you answered.

“5000 yen.”

“... What?”

“That’s my law firm’s hourly fee.”

You stood silent. He chuckled a little, shrugging back.

“I’m joking. I don’t even have a practice. Tell me what you need.”

Is this guy for real?

You cleared your throat before continuing.

“It felt horrible to be on the spot like that out of nowhere, without any knowledge as to what was going on.”

After blurting it out, you braced yourself, knowing full well by now that professors were usually pretty big ego'd kind of people. Nonetheless, this had to be said, at least for the sake of the next student he decided to torture with one of his experiments.

He looked at you with wide eyes, and seemed to ponder for a moment.

“Oh, I see. My apologies,” Higuruma offered in earnest, while his face softened.

You were very surprised.

“Oh, okay," you mumbled as you scratched the back of your neck, "I accept your apology. But maybe you should really give the student a heads-up next time you intend to do that.”

“That would presume I consider that students are people, and not minions to torture.”

Uh?

“Also a joke.”

“You’re not very good with those.”

Did I say that out loud?

He simply stared surprised at you, seemingly a little shocked.

I did say it out loud.

"Fuck."

And that too.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Higuruma suddenly chuckled, much to your surprise. Your eyes widened, and you stared at him, extremely confused as to what was up with this guy.

“You're a sincere person," he noted, and you shrugged hesitantly.

Higuruma was definitely amused at this exchange.

He then proceeded.

"Being sincere is good, but my best friend always warns me to try keeping it to myself most of the time. I don’t listen, of course, but maybe you should for now. People get offended easily.”

His exposition made you feel a little less out of place — and less alone, for what it was worth. You instantly remembered your parents used to chide you for blurting out things like that out of nowhere, instead of keeping them in your head like other people do, according to them.

You didn't realize you were smiling as you mindlessly opened your coat.

He took notice of your shirt, and began slowly realizing there was something off about it.

"Is that usual?" you asked, out of the blue.

He shook his head, being pulled out of his head. "What?"

"The mock expulsion?"

"Heavens, no."

"Then, why?" you inquired.

He rubbed his face with his hands.

"Because I needed something to wake mine and everybody else's brain up. Classes shouldn't be this early, and I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."

Higuruma was still out of sorts, spilling the tea of his insomniac state to one of his random students whom he had just met.

"Oh, me neither!" you told him, also absentmindedly, on a stream of consciousness rant towards a professor you were talking to for the first time. "Classes should start after noon, at the very least…"

"I know, right? Some things shouldn't be a crime, but making people wake up this early for class definitely ought to be."

You laughed softly, and you both kept silent for a moment, before you remembered what you thought was the reason for the mock punishment.

"Oh, professor… I'm sorry about the coffee."

He was confused for a few moments before broadening his eyes as he finally realized it.

No wonder Higuruma felt like he recognized your voice from somewhere, and now he took a good look at the red smudge he had seen earlier under what he figured was your face.

It was the ugliest scarf he had ever seen.

"I came here wanting to ask if you had done the fake expulsion thing as some sort of…" you sighed, a little ashamed. "Well, I'd like to apologize for staining your clothes, and offer to get you new ones, or at least pay for your laundry fee if needed."

He lifted one eyebrow at you before he resumed speaking.

"I didn't catch your face then. I mean, I didn't recognize you at all," Higuruma answered, "so no. But I'd never… Well, you barely know me, so you wouldn't know, but my opinion on the matter is that professors that exert selfish vendettas against students, for whatever reason, are absolute fools."

"You didn't recognize me? Say what now?"

He pointed at his glasses, and you finally understood completely how all of this petty revenge narrative was entirely in your head.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay."

"But still…"

He sighed.

"It was a possibility, given how things in a college setting usually go, but that is why we investigate things further before prosecuting, right? A narrative might make a lot of sense, up until you confront it with the gathered evidence."

You joined your hands in front of you, embarrassed.

"Yes, I guess so," you answered, "but please, let me at least pay to get your clothes cleaned."

The professor shook his head.

"Absolutely not. You're an undergraduate student. I've been one, I'm quite aware of the financial hardships most of you endure as I've struggled with them myself not so long ago."

Even though you felt somewhat uncomfortable about not evening things out, he was right. This money would be fairly missed — you were already missing the $2 worth of coffee you didn't manage to drink.

"It was an accident, you didn't cover me with your beverage intentionally. Also, you had to leave because you were late for my class," he paused, "and I'm actually flattered you'd leave someone to fend off for themselves against that foul cafeteria coffee just to run to one of my classes."

You chuckled a little, and he proceeded.

"So, it's okay. You don't have to pay me for anything. This is fine."

You sighed, truly relieved, and he was glad you came to talk to him and properly apologize for the blunder.

"Thank you for your time and kindness, professor. I hope you have a good day."

He bowed his head slightly.

"Same to you."

However, something was still scratching at the back of his mind.

"Hm, hey… since we are on the topic of clothing and I just let you off the hook on paying for my dry cleaning…" Higuruma said, and you stopped midway towards the door, turning to face him.

"This might be an odd question, but I'm very curious."

"Hm… what is it?"

He pointed at your sleeping shirt, now evident under the open coat.

"Are those pajamas?"

You immediately pulled your coat over your hello kitty top, lifting one eyebrow in pathetic defiance.

"Of course… not?"

Higuruma thought to himself that you were turning into one of the most unique students he ever had.

"Do you intend to be an attorney?"

"... yes?" You answered, with some suspicion.

He huffed.

"Then improve your lying game for Court. You can do your crazy, but defend it as if it was the utmost truth in the universe, okay?"

Higuruma couldn't quite explain it, but this conversation with you was strangely amusing.

Maybe going back to the classroom wouldn't be so difficult after all, if even half of his students were a little out of sorts like this.

"... Okay," you replied, removing your hand and letting your pathetic sanrio pajamas shirt show once again.

"So, are those pajamas?" he inquired again, more incisively.

You straightened yourself and made a fake serious expression.

"Of course not."

"Much better," Higuruma answered with an actual smile.

The way his cheek creased around his mouth was weirdly charming, just as most things about him, it seemed.

Trying not to stare, you smiled back at Higuruma and turned around, leaving for your next class with heat prickling against your cheeks.

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