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thestarsarebrightertonight · 18 days

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cinnamon girl // theodore nott x fem reader

"violet blue green red to keep me at arms length dont work"

playlist : cinnamon girl - lana del rey

summary : everyone knows you have a crush on theo , even he knows! so when you randomly start avoiding him one day , theodore cant help but go crazy.

sunshine reader , y/n used , hufflepuff reader

masterlist

"theo!" you called out happily , running to the boys side and catching his wrist to stop his strides down the corridor, "hi, ive been meaning to talk to you!".

he looked at you , seeming displeased and just grunted in response , turning away and not even looking at your smiling face that admired him so softly.

"so you have a match on saturday and i was just wondering wether i should support you or hufflepuff? i always try and do my best in encouraging you but when youre against my house it becomes difficult-"

"i dont care do whatever." he said simply , finally turning to look back at you with an annoyed face.

your expression dropped for a split second , a moment so small it was hardly detectable but for that single second your smile dropped completely. and theo noticed. he thought that was probably the first time in your whole life youve stopped smiling. and the first time youve dropped your delicate hold on his wrist.

but you quickly regained composure , smiling up at him although not as sweetly as before , it almost seemed strained this time , "right , thats fine. ill just see what i can do closer to the time. bye theodore"

theodore. ouch. theo watched as you walked away silently , not turning back at all. he tried not to read too much into you , he didnt want to think he cared enough to, but hearing you call him by his full name and not theo? he hated to admit it stung a little more than he thought it would.

----

"hey!" you said enthusiatically as you sat down besides your close friend hannah , she looked up from the desk and greeted you back.

usually in charms you found yourself sat besides her , talking all lesson or admiring theodore , but you could help but avoid his side of the room like its the plague.

the plague being the pretty ravenclaw girl that for some reason was sat next to him as they discussed something civilly. usually theo sat with mattheo or alone since mattheo wasnt regularly spotted in charms , so to see him sat next to a girl youve never seen him with? you felt your heart shatter right onto the ground around you.

"y/n? are you listening?" hannah tried to ask you until she followed where you stared and saw theodore with the ravenclaw , "oh".

you nodded besides her , forcing a tight smile onto your lips and finally dragging your eyes from them , "its fine , everyone knows he doesnt like me back, i guess i was just in denial about it."

hannah saddened at the forced laugh that you let out , pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back , "he was never good enough for you anyways. youre a whole galaxy and theodore nott is the moon , nothing compared to you."

"i love the moon," you said softly as your eyes began to well up with tears.

hannah pulled back and scanned the room before grabbing your hand , "professor flitwick isnt here yet , leave now and if he asks ill say you were sick. go to our dorms and ill get snacks from the kitchen and we can stay in tonight , sound good?"

you smiled happily at her , "thank you hannah"

she returned the smile with a light nod before handing you your bag and shooing you away , watching as you left the classroom hastily.

failing to feel theos eyes that burned into your fleeting figure.

---

the next few days were odd for theodore nott. something felt missing but he couldnt quite place his finger on it...

that was until he made eye contact with you in the hall and watched in suprise as you looked away and practically sprinted down the corridor , rather than coming up to him with a bright small and a new topic to rant about.

and he didnt like it. not one bit.

for the rest of the week he picked up on the things that you did - or didnt do.

how your smile would drop when you made eye contact with theodore. how youd talk happily to lorenzo and then make an excuse to leave as soon as theo tried to join the coversation. how you stopped sitting next to him in potions and instead sat with hermione , chatting away to her and not noticing the glare theodore sent towards the both of you.

but the one thing that pushed him over the edge was when he flew out onto the quidditch pitch and immediately searched for you in the stands , only to spot you waving at diggory , wearing his jersey?!

theodore had never felt jealous before -lies- but in that moment he held onto his broom a lot harder than before , his whole body felt hotter and his eyes glared holes into cedric diggorys back.

lets just say that throughout the match he made sure to shove diggory with every chance he got , eventhough none of it was necessary as they had completely different roles in the game.

"nott get off diggorys fucking broom and do your job!" adrian shouted at him from across the pitch , making theodore roll his eyes before giving cedric a last shove and flying away.

from the stands you watched theodore in confusion ,along with the rest of the audience , staring as he yet again flew in the path of cedric and shoved him to the side before contiuing to chase the hufflepuff chaser.

"it seems like nott is more concered in giving the golden boy diggory a good push rather than actually fulfilling his job , typical slytherins playing dirty in my opinion-" lees comentating was cut off by professor mcgonagall clearing her throat , "sorry professor."

----

the match had ended and purely because of the rest of the slytherin team , they won , however the poor performance of theodore threw the whole teams goal points off.

"what the fuck is wrong with you theodore!?" draco shouted as the team entered the changing tents , "if i hadnt gotten that golden snitch we wouldve lost AND been the comedic relief of all the other houses!"

theodore let out a heavy sigh before sitting down on one of the benches with his head in his hands , pulling his hair aggresively, "shove off malfoy im not in the mood".

"all this because of some hufflepuff mudblood wearing diggorys jersey-" draco started again , before being pushing harshly by a now infuriated theodore.

"the FUCK did you say malfoy?!" theo screamed in his face , being pulled away by lorenzo who tried to calm the situation.

"guys we won and thats all that matters!" enzo tried to reason with the furious boys.

"barley , berkshire! theo over here nearly fucked everything up because of childish jealousy!" draco shouted back , venom dripping off his words.

"who said i was fucking jealous?" theo shouted back as majority of the team turned to him with disbelief.

"you nearly dropped the quaffle twice because you were too busy figuring out how you could shove cedric on the way to the goalhoops-" mattheo started before being cut off by the curtain of the tent being pulled back.

revealing a girl covered in bright yellow , covering her eyes and trying to walk into the tent without falling, "c-can i look?".

the whole tent gaped in shock before lorenzo finally spoke up , "yeah..yeah you can look y/n dont worry."

you quickly uncovered your eyes and blinked as they adjusted to the light , looking at the scene before you which showed theodore being held back from draco by lorenzo and a disapproving mattheo stood in front of the lockers.

"theodore what are you-" you started before being cut off by the boy shaking his head rapidly.

"stop - stop calling me theodore i cant stand when you call me that."

you stared in suprise as theodore shrugged off lorenzos hands and walked over to you, this was possibly the most emotion the boy had shown to you.

"oh uh right sorry , i just wanted to say well done for the match. i was rooting for hufflepuff but there isnt any other team that deserve it more than you guys!" you smiled awkwardly as the team thanked you a short silence following , "anyways , theres a certain hufflepuff thats a bit gutted about his loss so im gonna-"

"diggory?" theo asked with a sour tone as he stepped closer to you , not breaking eye contact.

"yeah , hes upset but i said if he lost id make him a crochet blanket to make him feel better so-"

"but you only make me crochet things." theodore said coldly as you stuttered again , unfamiliar with this behaviour from theo.

"ha , yeah i do but um , i didnt think you liked them so i thought id just put my efforts elsewhere!" you laughed awkwardly.

"the blanket you made him's on his bed , he takes it home aswell because he cant sleep without it-" mattheos teasing was cut off by a sharp glare from theo.

"shut up riddle!" theo seethed before turning back to you.

"no dont be embarassed theo - its nice to know you love it!" you said , finally regaining a comfort in theos presence at this news.

"i love you." he stated simply as the whole room fell into a dead silence.

your mouth hung wide open , as did his teamates before they were ushered out of the room by enzo , your moment with theo requiring the upmost privacy.

"you- you what?!" you asked in pure shock as the final player exited the tent.

"i love you," theo stated again as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"but- but you like hate me , you dont even reply when i talk or smile at me-" you ranted.

"youre right, i hate you. i hate how you love me more than anyone else has before you... i hate your hair and your perfect smile.... and i despise how you make me feel," he stepped so close that your bodies touched and his hand rested on your cheek firmly , "but theres a very thin line between love and hate."

you gaped up at him in suprise , "theo-"

he quickly took a step back and walked to his locker , pulling out a top, more specifically his jersey that he now handed to you.

"take that god awful jersey off i dont think i can handle looking at it for one more second" he said bitterly , staring down at the yellow top you wore with distaste.

"i love you too." you said , still frozen in place and staring up at him.

"i think everyone knows that princess." he said with a laugh , the first laugh youd heard from him in a long time.

a blush spread to your cheeks , both at his words and the addictive sound of his soft chuckle.

"why have you always ignored me if you love me?" you asked still being slightly unpleased with his random confession.

his smile dropped as he frowned and looked at you sympathetically , "i just thought you were doing it all for fun , maybe to mock me or something. i tried to shut out the fact i like you and it clearly didnt work , i was just ...scared." he confessed in a moment of complete vunerability.

you admired him with care and empathy as he spoke from his heart so purely , before your face cracked into a teasing smile , "you know i wasnt actually rooting for hufflepuff?"

he smirked wrapping arms around your waist and pulling you in closer ,"oh really?"

you nodded and pulled the braid in your hair over your shoulder , to reveal the dark green bow that wrapped around the end of it.

theodore grinned upon seeing this as you both giggled , a sweet first kiss following the heart to heart.

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alienshoe · 2 years

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Shoutout to the professional hairstylist who absolutely loved my dyed hair, but was so mad that I bleached it (like how tf am I meant to b getting this vibrant purple without bleach) so much that she even told others in my group (without me there) at least 3 times that I should never bleach it EVER again. :) I've literally used bleach on (less than a month old) cheap black box dye recently and would do it again,,,, teehee 🤭🤭

#teehee u aint getting me to pay hundreds just to have someone else not do exactly what i want them to with my hair #i dont have the money nor the desire to listen to professionals #ik im messing up my hair... but thats literally the whole fucking point babes #like how the fuck would i get bright ass colors on my almost black natural hair bbie #its worse that she was so over the moon and happy with my hair color #rant

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 9 months

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TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.

pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader

summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…

warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 5.3k

a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭

Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films.

Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down.

Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since.

The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job.

You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before.

As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”

Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“

“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face.

Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air.

“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”

He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow.

My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?

After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left.

Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again.

You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films.

In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”

Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!”

Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”

“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously.

Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him.

“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly.

Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence.

You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant.

He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open.

From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies.

He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies.

You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it.

But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again.

This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.

Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them.

And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant.

Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door.

Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.

“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What -- the hell are you doing here?”

“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time.

If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”

“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.

You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity.

“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work.

Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.”

“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more.

And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.

Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you.

“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you.

“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”

“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”

You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”

Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him.

“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive.

“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply.

On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off.

“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch.

“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”

So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants.

He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas.

The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy.

However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him.

Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on.

So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing.

“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day.

Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”

Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?”

You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”

He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh.

“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”

Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“

You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck.

Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started—

“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.”

You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register.

“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time.

You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass.

Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer.

“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him.

Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.

Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth.

You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled.

“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“

Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”

Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you.

Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching.

Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch.

“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”

Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“

“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”

Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin.

He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release.

But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him.

You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”

Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.”

You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”

He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you.

Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust.

Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch.

He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips.

“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin.

“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings.

“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.

Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail.

Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl.

After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole.

Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better.

“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing.

You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.”

Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly.

He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure.

“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you.

Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you.

“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit.

The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet.

You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter.

You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too.

You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”

“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go.

You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed.

“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again.

“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable.

You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole.

“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately.

His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously.

You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.

“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”

“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you.

You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex.

This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.

Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…”

He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right.

You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly.

“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice.

“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length.

“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”

“I’m even better, baby.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis x reader

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thefandomthings · 2 months

Note

I'm so sorry I forgot to specify which section last time I just realized 😭 Can I pretty please have fluff 39 with Barbatos from Obey Me? 🫂

Soothing

Fluff prompt #39: "Should I stop talking?" "Don't. Your voice is very soothing."

Pairing: Barbatos x Gn!reader

Warnings: Floof, cussing

Notes: Hey there Nony! You're good, I know what you meant! I would like to apologize in advance I've never gotten into his character, I don't know much about him but I will try my best. I don't like this piece, I feel like I did a terrible job at writing him. Please give me some fed back on it 😭

Barbatos is a busy demon, constantly doing his duties as the royal butler and taking care of the prince. But he always make sure he has time for you. He let's you spend time with him while he does chores around the castle, or is making tea for himself and the prince; as long as you don't interrupt him or distract him.

You cherish the time you get to yourselves. Sitting in your shared quarters sipping tea and reading in the comforting silence of one another. Other times, Barbatos likes watching you tell him about the books you are reading, or what you did that day while you were out with the brothers while on a nightly walk.

He isn't much of a talker, simply preferring to keep quiet and let you do the talking for him. His favorite it when you get deep into what you're talking about. He'll give occasional noises or throw in a few questions to let you know he is listening.

"-And then it ends on a cliffhanger! Of all things, it pissed me off honestly. They went through all that and the author ended it in such a terrible way-" You were practically seething as you walk next to him, Barbatos is giving you a small smile. Watching you ramble on and on was his favorite part of the day if he was being honest.

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that my dear. Do you know when the next book will be out?" Barb asks softly, his turquoise-green eyes watching you intensely, his left hand squeezing yours softly.

(A few months after he asked you this, the book will somehow end up on your bed, signed by the author with a rose next to it. Sneaky bastard.)

You shake your head, slouching your posture grumbling about your book once again.

"No, and if it is the author won't say it..." You respond, lolling your head to rest on his shoulder.

"I've honestly discovered I don't like this author as much as I used to. Her work isn't as thrilling as her older stuff-Which is fine, I don't mind but it just doesn't give the same thrilling feel."

You then realize you have been dragging this conversation on for at least 10 minutes. Your face slowly gets enveloped by a deep blush. You look up at your boyfriend, who is smiling as usual, but it's more genuine and full of care.

"Should I stop talking?" You whisper, looking at him curiously as he stops walking. The moon illuminates your face, defining every beautiful feature on you.

Barbatos simply shakes his head, grabbing your chin between his gloved forefinger and thumb. His eyes gazing into yours lovingly.

"Don't. Your voice is very soothing." He gives your forehead a soft kiss, his lips lingering before he pulls away. He moves a strand of hair away from your eyes before he starts walking with you once again.

Your face is on fire, a bright smile gracing your lips. You clear your throat and continue on your rant. Barbatos can't help but chuckle to himself, thanking whomever brought you to him.

#obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #obey me brothers x reader #thefandomthings

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anykindofbean · 29 days

Text

Features

Moondrop x Reader: Features

Such a beautiful smile 👉👈🌝

This is kinda like a part two to this

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Smooches given to a robot

If you wanna check out more of my works: Masterlist

———————————————————

Nightshift.

It wasn’t everyone’s favorite kind of shift. But you enjoyed it; There was no screaming kids, No loud music, No parents fussing over their kids.

It was peaceful..

Besides the Moon animatronic following you the whole time..

And it’s not like you two weren’t aquatinted, You work mostly in the daycare, You’ve talked with him before while the kids were sleeping.

He’s just…Following you now..not speaking a word. All you can hear is the sounds of his limbs crawling around you.

You felt a chill go up your spine as you heard him get closer to you, You slowly turn around only to be met face to face with him. You flinched back slightly, Not expecting to only be inches away from his face.

You smile nervously. “ H-hey Moon?” It sounds almost like a question. He just laughs at your shocked expression, Leaning closer towards you. You instinctively step back. “ Can I..help you with something?”

Moon gets close once again, His faceplate rotating slightly, Almost like head tilt. “ Enlighten me..”

You raise an eyebrow, Curious about his request. “ About what?”

“..My features.”

You blinked, Going wide eyed. He must be referring to your conversation with Sun a while ago. You listed off features about Sun you’ve noticed to him per his request. You didn’t think Moon would pay attention to that, Cause who would want to listen to someone rant about their brother? Guess Moon was..and now he wants a turn.

“ Your features?” You repeat back to him. Moon keeps getting closer, The more you back up until you’re against a wall. No escaping now..

“ Yes..My features. Things you’ve noticed about me, Starlight..things you like?” He is dangerously close to your face, His bright red eyes are the only thing illuminating your face. You gulped, Not daring to look away.

“ Um..Your eyes?”

“ What about them?”

You breathed in, Before letting out a deep shaky breath. “..The light that shines from them..It’s pretty.”

His faceplate just tilts once again, He looks like he’s thinking. “..What else?”

“ Um..” You examine his face, Before your eyes flicker to his hat. “..I like your hat..” You laugh a bit. “ I’ve actually thought about making my own version of your hat..It’s just..so cute.”

Moon looks over at the side, The part of his hat that’s dangling over his shoulder. He just hums as a response. You can’t tell what he’s thinking..

He looks back to you. “ Anything else?”

You nod, Looking at his facial features once more. Your eyes land on his permanent smile.

“ Your smile..”

Moon’s eyes are glued to yours. “ Go on..” Face Leaning even closer, His nose almost touching yours.

Your breath hitched, You’ve dug yourself a hole..

“ It’s..a smile that I can’t help but smile back at..Such a beautiful smile you have..” You smile softly, Looking Moon in the eyes. You then feel Moon cup your jaw with one hand. “ Beautiful?”

You go wide eyed, But you manage to speak out. “ Y-yes.”

Moon looks down at your lips. “..Beautiful enough..To kiss?”

You felt your words and breath get caught in your throat. Your face growing warm, As you lifted your hand to Moon’s, Not sure what to do yet. Moon glanced up to meet your eyes once more, Patiently waiting for your response.

A shaky breath left your lips. “..Y-yes..”

If Moon could, He’d smile even wider. “ Beautiful enough..for you to kiss?”

This robot..

You manage to gain enough courage to lean foward, Your lips pressing a gentle kiss in the middle of Moon’s unmoving smile. You wrapped your arms around what would be considered his neck.

It was strange..

Your warm lips against the cold metal mouth..

The feeling was strange..But a good strange.

Moon pushed his faceplate against yours, As an attempt to try to kiss back. His other hand raised up to your waist, While the one around your jaw stayed, grip tightening however.

Eventually you pull away, Looking into Moon’s eyes. You swear that his pupils turned into hearts. You moved your hand to trace it against the faint outline of chapstick you were wearing left on Moon’s smile.

“ Does that answer your question, Moon?”

———————————————————

I hope you enjoyed! I apologize if it’s a bit cringe..

#fanfiction #x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf security breach x reader #fnaf security breach #fnaf #fnaf daycare attendant #daycare attendant x reader #daycare attendent #fnaf dca #dca x reader #security breach x reader #moondrop x reader #moondrop #moon #moon x reader #moon x y/n #fnaf moodrop #fnaf moon

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fluff-n-cookies · 5 months

Note

Hey, love! I’m new to this, so sorry if I’m doing this wrong :) You can call me Moon btw. I love your writing and appreciate how it’s all platonic!!!! I was wondering if you could do Aizawa (and maybe Mic or whoever else you want) with an introverted teen he took in asking to braid his hair, and getting lost in thought and humming while listening to him complain about work or something. It’s fine if not <3333

Hi Moon! It's nice to meet you! I am so so so so sorry for replying so late. I was feeling burnt out and just really needed a break. I hope you understand. I was also hoping I could use this prompt for other characters so if you’ll give me permission I’d love to use your idea again for different characters. :)

Aizawa never liked coming home. He never liked the blinding white light bulbs that came with his crappy apartment and was too lazy to change, he didn’t like the smell of coffee and dirty dishes he felt were too overwhelming to do. He used to only have the energy to eat some soggy cereal and pass out on the couch before getting up to do hero work in the morning, or 2 am, or come home at 11 pm but that didn’t matter, it was just the same thing every day.

But now, he had you. Being the sole survivor of a strange house fire at 1 am and having no memories whatsoever and having been considered shy and introverted. You were one with no guidance, no past and a future unknown and uncharted. And while you had been proven to have the intelligence of a child your age and then some, you had little to no knowledge of much else. You were a young girl in need of love and protection. (at least to him.)

So he took you in, begrudgingly, at first, but he soon felt a sense of comfort in your presence, a sense of happiness even.

He even decided to pick up a parenting book or two, and found some mommy bloggers as well. I mean, what else is a man to do except try and be a good parent to a child he loves ever so dearly?

He learned he needed to make food for said child, instead of living off take out and what he can find at the convenience store next door. Children also need to live in a clean environment, so that is what he did, he tries to at least do the dishes and laundry regularly now.

Guess he needs to listen too, because he often finds himself listening to your rants about school and homework, as well as the rants of your hobbies, about what you did today, how you felt today, so many things. And I guess, just a hunch, that his life was finally falling into rhythm.

But it remained mostly the same.

Tonight was no different.

It goes;come home, take off shoes and coat, check if you’re awake, make some ramen (and some for you too if you are awake.) complain, go to bed.

So here he is, tiptoeing to your room at the end of the hallway, careful not to wake you if you are asleep. Only to find that you are, in fact, awake. The warm light bulbs he installed in your room peaked through the crack in the door you had left for the cat to come at the ungodly hours of the night. You could also see the various trinkets and hobbies you had picked up over your 4 years of living together and made your room the heart of the whole apartment. Lively and bright. And there you were, hunched over your desk watching a video on your computer, fiddling with a piece of origami paper, attentively following the instructions from the video to try and make an origami frog.

It took about 10 seconds to recognize he was there, smiling, happily at your antics. You smiled a little, but that smile made it all worth it to do what he does, be a hero and a single parent both at the same time, a smile that could light up even the darkest of nights. You did a little run too, you ran a little run to get to him but still tried to be light on your feet so as not to bother the neighbors.

Always so considerate. He thought.

It was a regular routine really, for him to get you from your room and make some ramen, but as you two sat on the couch, TV was buzzing with the latest new stories (who needs a dining room table? Just use the couch! Why waste the space? It is the perfect space for your plants so for your plants it will be!) Something different happened today.

For in the smallest little voice, he heard you squeak out,

“c-can I braid your hair.” a slight tremble in your voice

Now that was a surprise,

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry, I meant it as in can I do your hair, I’m sorry I shou-”

“Sure.” he replied nonchalantly.

“What?”

“You can braid my hair. Go on, the hair ties are in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” there was a pause. “Okay.”

Here he was, out in the dead of night at 12 in the morning, a young girl braiding his black locks of hair while he complained about PresentMic’s antics while eating convenience store ramen. For once in his life he felt at peace, as the world slowed down he felt himself slowly understanding. Understanding that it may be over, the repetitive nights of the never ending loneliness. It’s over.

And it starts here, with you, with tonight where you braid his hair and listen to him rant about the outside world. But here it’s safe, in this crappy apartment with the cool light bulbs and the distant stench of dirty dishes and the coffee he had this morning. It's okay. Life is okay.

Maybe he wasn’t doomed to have the same routine every day over and over again.

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ooffies · 1 year

Note

Could I request headcanons of Jamil and Vil walking in on their female s/o bragging about them to the first years?

: I had so much fun writing this! Thank you for the request anon! Sorry for long wait I had mid-terms 😭. Also I added all the blot-buddies(?) because I felt inspired, I hope you don't mind! Hope you enjoy them!

❥─➤ Jamil, Vil, Leona, Malleus, Azul, Idia and Riddle x reader (separate)

❥─➤ warnings: none!

Jamil Viper (flustered)

He’s never been this flustered before, like ever. He hears Kalim sing him praise for his talents all the time but that only makes him feel slightly annoyed. But hearing you talking so highly about him? His heart feels like it’s about to break out of his chest. He’s blushing from ear to ear for the rest of the day. Makes sure to invite you over once classes are done. He wants to express his gratitude to you and show how much he cares for you.

Vil Schoenheit (proud/flattered)

Of course, you're bragging about him, who wouldn’t? He’s used to people singing him praise and boasting about his talent and beauty. But never has he felt so giddy from hearing someone talk about him. he’s got butterflies in his stomach hearing you talk so highly of him to your peers. He’s got a smile stuck on his face for the rest of day. Next time the two of you hang out he makes sure to pamper you with compliments and kisses.

Leona Kingscholar (smug)

He’s already got a shit-eating smirk on his face as soon as he overhears you. His herbivore singing him praise is a massive boost to his ego. He’s attached to your hip for the rest of your day. He’ll try to get you to skip class to be with him. He’ll have his tail lightly wrapped around your thigh or hand, letting everyone know for the millionth time you're his. It’s kind of his own way of bragging about you.

Malleus Draconia (falls in love all over again)

He practically falls in love with you all over again anytime he hears you speak a single good word about him. He’s all over you for the rest of the day, giving you as much affection as possible. He’s trying so hard to hide the fact that he overheard your bragging but after five minutes of being with this overjoyed man it’s pretty obvious what happened.

Azul Ashengrotto (blushing mess #1)

Acts all smug when he confronts you and the freshmen but once they leave he’s blushing from head to toe. He can barely form a sentence as he tries to give thanks to you for being such a great partner. But he can’t help but ask if you actually think that highly of him. Once you reassure him he’ll become a blushing mess all over again. Will treat you to a special dinner at lounge that night to make sure you know how thankful he is to be yours.

Idia Shroud (over the moon)

On the outside he was an absolute embarrassed wreck after hearing you brag about him to Ace and Deuce. But on the inside he’s kicking his feet and giggling. His s/o bragging about him? Him out all people? God he doesn’t deserve you. He’ll make sure to show you more affection than he usually does next time you come over.

Riddle Rosehearts (blushing mess #2)

Bright burning red as he scolds you and the Heartslabyul duo for “loitering around”. It’s very easy to tell that he’s flustered from overhearing your high praises of him. He drags you away for the troublesome duo, ranting about various things. Once you two are alone he thanks you for the kind words while still being as red as a rose.

Please do not repost or translate my work without permission and credit. Thank you!

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titishq · 3 months

Text

Fratboy!Jschlatt - Headcanons

⤷ pairing: fratboy!jschlatt x gn!reader

contains: swearing , mention of bimbos— , mentions of partying & drinking , angst if you squint , overwhelming toothrotting fluff

summary: headcanons of fratboy!jschlatt falling for you & your relationship!!<3

⋆ jay thinks he’s the biggest and toughest person, but in reality he’s a total softie.

⋆ he hates when he finds himself falling for someone that isn’t a stereotypical ‘bubble headed blonde bimbo’, meaning he’ll actually have to try to get noticed by them. he especially hates when he found himself falling for you.

⋆ you were just some nerd compared to him, you didn’t care for sports, you didn’t show up to parties or games, you were just focused on your studies and graduating college—!

⋆ at first he started annoying you; throwing papers on your desk, bumping into you, knocking your bag over. when he finally got a reaction from you, he was over the moon, even if you essentially told him to ‘fuck off’.

“jesus christ, jonathan! fuck off, you’re so annoying!” you groaned and grabbed the piece of paper he threw at you, looking back at him and tossed it right back. you didn’t understand why he was smiling so much at you.

“thanks, sweetheart.” he smiled and grabbed the paper, un-crubbling it to see the small note he had written for you, one asking you on a date. he couldn’t help but feel a little sad that you didn’t notice, but he knew one day you’d realize what the papers meant.

⋆ the second you started giving him attention, he was using it to his advantage. moving into bright colored sticky notes so they’d pop out on the brown desk, if they stuck to your black bag it was obvious he was messing with you.

⋆ he’ll follow you around the school when he can, making excuses like he’s simply going to class or lunch, but in reality he’s just attempting to admire you.

⋆ be purposely started failing the class you had together so the teacher would force you to help him, causing the two of you to become closer somewhat, but you were still insanely annoyed by him.

⋆ he would act so dumb when you point out an obvious answer, looking at you with big doe eyes in an attempt to get you to just give in and kiss him already; but we all know that’s not gonna happen (yet).

⋆ he starts inviting you to parties, not surprised when you decline his offers at first, but after so many times you give in and show up to a overcrowded frat hour at 12 AM.

“jay, what the hell?” you looked at him with a worried expression, seeing him already downing shots in the kitchen with his friends, who were busy hyping him up. he looked up at you with a soft gaze, approaching you and leaning down to whisper in your ear. “just have fun, toots. let loose a little.”

he had convinced you to have one shot of pure vodka some kid has gotten his hands on, the liquid burned going down, causing you to gag and reach for the nearest soda, which just so happen to be jay’s. you snatched it from his hand, drinking it quickly to get rid of the taste. “god, that was disgusting!” you didn’t even realize he was staring at your lips, thinking about how you technically kissed because your lips touched the same spot of the fan.

⋆ this boy can’t let it go. the sight of you at that party will forever be embedded in his brain. he had managed to get a picture of you with a wide smile on your face, his arm around your waist, and his lips making contact with your temple. which that picture was now his lock screen.

⋆ the first time you caught a glimpse of the picture, your face became red. he tried to ignore it, but simply couldn’t, finally giving in to ask you on a date.

⋆ he went on a whole rant about how much he liked you and how pretty he thought you were, his own face becoming flush as he waited for you to say something—anything!

⋆ of course when you said you felt the same, he practically lost his mind! this beautiful person he had been crushing on for months, liked him back?? it was unbelievable!

⋆ he was a little afraid to tell him frat bros at first, but was happy when they were cool with it, and even let him invite you over occasionally.

⋆ you had grown lowkey close with his best friend, ted, the two of you ganging up on jay occasionally and making fun of him.

⋆ for anniversaries he begs ted to help him set up stuff for you, it’s small at first, but as the numbers and amount of time get bigger, the more insane the date was!

“jay, where are you?” you called out into the empty frat house, furrowing your brows at the fact the lights weren’t on and most people were probably asleep, forcing you to use your phone flashlight to not wake anyone. you made your way to his room, slowly creaking the door open, being greeted by the entire frat house shooting confetti poppers at you and screaming their heads off.

“jesus! what are you guys doing?” you pushed the confetti out of your face, looking up to see jay holding up a bouquet and a poster reading out ‘happy 1 year!’. you could feel the blush rising to your face, smiling widely and rushed into his arms, earning a kiss on the head and him mumbling against your hair. “i love you, sweetheart.”

⋆ by the time you two graduated together, everyone was fully convinced you were gonna get married. even professors knew you two were dating, some purposely seating you two far apart so you wouldn’t be all up on one another— even though you weren’t.

⋆ he had bought you a necklace for graduation, one that matched a ring he wore on his ring finger. the entire time he was waiting for your name to be announced, a wide smile on his lips as he finally heard it, probably being the loudest to clap and cheer.

⋆ after your friends all met up with each other, you tucked under his arm and his hand rubbing your side. he occasionally placed a kiss on your forehead, mumbling against your skin about how he was so proud of you and how much he loved you.

⋆ of course— you moved in with each other, living in the same apartment complex as some of his buddies, where all of you would often meet up and hold small parties, just like the ones in college.

tags: @teddysboy , @riverwritez , @asterjaxx , @luv4luci

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

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So, y’all. I bought the tumblr tumbler. Lol I swear I be making fun of people buying TikTok stuff and here I am. Pot, meet Kettle. I love this freaking bottle though. And I’m bout to add some stickers to it too.

[Just realized my desk is hella messy and my probiotic gummies make an appearance in the back there. Ya girl is struggling, ok?]

Bright Like The Moon News:

I am working on chapter 6 at the moment. And also as you can see in the pic, there is a Spotify playlist in the works (Already have a draft for when I am ready to post that - maybe with this next chapter?). I am still healing from surgery. It’s been a week. I’m doing well. Just missing that good good medicine. Lol.

Anyways, I love you and I hope to have the chapter up before end of day tomorrow but we will see!

TL;DR: Bright Like The Moon Chapter 6 will be out soon! I will be tagging my "BLTM" and "General" peeps below:

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @foxyjwls007 @rosiesluv7 @livisss

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

Edit: Also, Chapter 6 may be the shortest chapter, depending on how the scene I am writing goes...👀

#tumblraesthetic #bright like the moon rant #ellethespaceunicorn speaks

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crowned-aeris · 3 months

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Timkon Sun/Moon thing i just thought of

Tim watches Conner work from afar, his shirt loose, occasionally lifted from his skin by the whispering wind as his eyes scanned the Kryptonian's face.

With careful breaths, the third robin leans back against the railing as he listens to Conner rant about the farm life, and how one of the cows was being an utter bitch.

He smiles, nodding at the appropriate times as he felt his heart swell. Bathed in the high-noon sun, Conner Kent looked simply magical. His hair fluttering around his face, his too-blue eyes alight with a passion that would make even the sun cower.

And Conner really is like the sun, isn't he? Bright, sunny, warm, and capable of chasing away the cold of loneliness that seemed to hound at Tim's heels. If he was Jason, Tim thinks he'd compare their relationship to the ocean and the beach. Despite how the ocean may recede, Tim would always, always, always return to Conner's side.

"Are you even listening to me?" Conner huffed, amusement glinting in his eyes as his lips twisted into faux irritation.

"Yeah, you were talking about how Bessie keeps kicking over the bucket when you try milking her?"

"YEAH! I don't know how, but i swear every time I turn around, she's managed to kick EVERY. BUCKET. OVER."

He laughs, his chest practically shattering from how much he loves this man. Tim doesn't think he could ever stop loving him.

======

Conner presses himself against Tim's side, peering over the boy wonder's shoulder to scan across the screen.

"How do you that Miranes was the one who did it?" he asked, resting his cheek against Tim's shoulder, the vigilante's face illuminated by the moon as they sat side by side next to the window.

"It matches his MO," Tim explained, never once making Conner feel stupid, "this is a relatively easy case, since Miranes apparently can't keep his hands to himself. Since he was last seen near the Alley, I'll hand the case over to Hood and have him take care of Miranes."

"You're so hot when you say stuff like that," Kon grinned toothily, feeling pleased as Tim flushed a vibrant crimson.

"Shut up," Tim hissed, turning his head to try and hide his blush.

Conner laughed, reaching over to gently turn Tim's head over. He wished the Bat's domino was off so he could stare into Tim's creepy little ice-like eyes.

He leans forwards and pecks at Tim's lips before the Bat gets the chance to twist out of his grip.

"CONNER!" Tim practically screeches, entire face a furious red as he hides away in his hands.

"Whaaaatt!" He complained with a pout, "I deserve a kiss, don't I?"

"God, I'm still on comms!" Tim hissed, and Conner could feel the instant the realization set in.

If he focuses closely, Conner can hear the sound of Nightwing's eerily calm voice coming from Tim's ear, "Hey, Red? Let Superboy know the next time he steps foot in Gotham, we will be ready for him with a special.... gift 🥰"

Conner and Tim lock eyes for a brief second, and the Kryptonian couldn't help but think if Nightwing kills him while he's pursuing the light of his moon, then Conner's time on earth would've been 100% well spent.

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jaehymrk · 3 months

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haunted apartment.

jude bellingham x reader. angst. in the apartment where he left you and the apartment that was left behind.

Jude never liked the apartment of yours in Madrid, it was too small for his liking; but for you it was safe enough for two. Somewhere in the busy streets of Madrid, you decided to rent your apartment that had enough space for one year lease as you had hit a jackpot on a study exchange aboard in Spain, specifically Madrid.

The apartment was good: one bedroom, a small living room, toilet and kitchen but your favourite part was the small balcony connected to your bedroom. However, Jude hated it, the balcony faced the buzzling streets of Madrid and the dirty gaze of other men that he could not protect you from; but you never listened, you never did.

Around this time last year, Jude was leaping up and down in excitment to meet you in your apartment away from the sudden rushed fame and his playful mother to his soft, and warm girlfriend who would embrace him into home. Now, he stood downstairs staring blankly at the peach coloured wall and stairs that once led to you.

He remembered complaining about the stairs vividly, "I cannot believe I have to do this." He rolled his eyes, lifting your small pink couch up the stairs. You chuckled, shaking your head jokingly at his annoyance. You loved the most about Jude is that there were minor things annoying the shit out of him. Such as these peach coloured stairs and the bright hot summer sun of Madrid did not help from the sweat dripping down his cheek.

"It is just on the second floor, babe." You calmly said, lifting the couch from the bottom. Jude forced a fake smile, turning his eyes into crescent moon. By the tenth complain, Jude had reach your frontdoor and before he could open his mouth and rant again, you shook your keys to distract as you turned the key to open your apartment door.

You winked, slamming the door open wide. "Welcome home, Jude."

"The previous flat owner asked me to give these keys if you ever come back." The security guard shook the keys in front of Jude to get him out from the trance. He nodded, smiling in manner.

Jude never liked the apartment, the ceilings were too low, and the wallpaper were faded into yellow. He, then recalled your eyes twinkled in happiness as it danced around every corner of the room. Jude realized how much you wanted this, to make the apartment yours. So he decided to try to like the apartment for you.

He stood in the middle of the living room.

"Tell me you do not have feelings for her, Jude?" You demanded.

He groaned in anger, "Why are you asking me these questions when I already told you I needed her help about something." He clicked his tongue, absurd at your words, your accusation.

"What kind of fucking help? What kind of help that I could have not given you?" You cried out in frustration. The walls were thin, you realized the first time you argued with Jude. The security guard had banged on your door, with swollen red eyes you opened. Instead of screaming in fits of anger, he just asked you to apologize to the next door.

So you did. Apologized later that night, saying you were just fighting for love that was losing its meaning.

Jude sat in silence as you seeked for answers. You breathed in softly, tears pooling in your eyes. You still have a few weeks to go before flying back to England; you were not risking another apology out of complete embarassment to your next door neighbour that you are really losing everything you came to Madrid for.

Jude had sat down the small couch with his head buried in his palm, you sat on the floor between his legs, pulling his hand away from his face to fit in yours. "Jude, I just want to know if you have feelings for her? If you just tell me that you do not, we can stop fighting. I will stop fighting." You asked, your heart twitching in pain as a woman, your intuition was your best calling but how much you wished in that moment for your intuition to laugh at your face.

You squeezed his hand gently. He opened his mouth before closing again, he replied crushing your whole world down in flame.

"I found myself wanting to go to her with my problems than coming to you." He confessed shutting his eyes in the sudden petrified ache that ran through his body as you losen your grip of his hand. Your hand falling on your lap as you sat in silence, maybe minutes or hours.

Jude found a small box in the table next to your tiny kitchen. With his shaky hands, he took a few photo frames out from the box. You had his graduation photo framed, Jude was not a fan of it.

"Oh my god! You looked adorable, baby." You squealed in the sudden hidden gem found to decorate your living room. It was a small young Jude, showing off his teeth smile but his eyebrows furrowed, he was annoyed in the picture. Jude laughed tackling on your back as he straddled on top of you to cage you. "Do not dare, i swear to god." He threatened but you mischievously shown your tongue, not listening to him at all.

Now, he wonder why he was not a fan of it, he was so happy.

You also had photoframed your picture with Jude in the Bernabéu stadium for the first time. He had a soft smile on his face wiping his finger through the frame, thinking on how nervous you were for him. It was a new chapter Jude was taking further away from you again and every moment was killing you.

You turned bumping your head onto his chest, Jude wrapped his arm around your waist. "I am just nervous. It is really the Real Madrid you dreamt about." You reminded yourself, rather than reminding him about it.

Jude glanced at your lower lip you were biting, your chest somewhat beating rapidly than usual. He let go off your waist to cup your cheek, rubbing his nose against yours. "Thank you for coming here with me, baby." He expressed himself, settling his head on yours. You smiled, "I will always come anywhere with you."

"Do you want a picture together? It is a good day." The photographer offered.

You nodded, fixing your hair away from your face, wrapping your hand around his arm: "Of course."

On the bottom of the box laid all the jerseys Jude left in your apartment, you did not take one token of memory with you back home, nothing about him remained in your luggage as you returned back home. Jude felt a void forming in his chest. The type of ache he had no words for.

The whole apartment was too neat for his liking. It was neater than the room you were welcomed to. Jude hated it, from the minute you entered this apartment, nothing embraced you wholly. Not this fucked up apartment, not your next door neigbours, not your security guard, not even him.

This fucking apartment was the only piece of you for Jude to reminisce in Madrid and he just could not even bring himself to like it enough.

He stood in front of your bedroom door, his eyes staring at the empty bed.

"I really like Madrid." You confessed, head resting onto his naked chest. Jude twitched uncomfortably, removing his arm away from your shoulder.

"That is good, I am glad."

You stared at him, not sure what you have said so wrong to give you a fake smile as he stared at the ceiling, falling into his own abyss. You tapped his shoulder, "I am not saying I will move here right away. I know you really love your team and-" You brushed your hair, collecting your words together as your throat burned in embarrassment; wondering if you were not welcomed by your own person in the whole city to not want you as much as you want him. "I also know we do not know what our future holds but I just like Madrid with you, Jude."

He laid on the bed staring at the dumb glowing stickers you bought from England. It never glowed, you believed wholeheartedly that it will.

Jude chuckled as his tears rolled down on the bedsheets, before he could choke his feelings out in pain. There was a knock in the main door. "Sir, you have to leave soon. Renters are about to come and check the place out. Thank you." The security guard screamed through the door; not wanting to invade the privacy of a superstar.

He laughed in his own misery, he cannot even drown in his own sadness. Jude got up from your bed, exiting the room with the box in his arm. He stood once again in the living room where he left you crying. Jude wondered if England is treating you better than Madrid ever did.

"So you did have feeling for her?" You asked, wanting to hear his answer properly instead Jude does what he does best; beating around the bushes with you.

"Babe, I am just saying it was eaiser to talk to her about football and the stress here." He tried explaining, leaning to grab your hand but you whipped away from his grip.

You chuckled dryly, "If that was the case, I could just fall in love with hundreds of exchange students here but I did not." You said calmly. Enough on the screaming, enough on the wanting to understand his side. Enough.

"I do not just love you, Jude. I respect our relationship but you did not even find a little respect for our relationship in yourself to come clean with me." You pointed onto his chest.

"I never said I have feelings for her." He explained.

"You chose to go to her while I waited hours for you to show up at my fucking door." You stared at him, "I cannot look at you please, just leave."

Jude wondered if he loved you more when you were present in this apartment. Jude wondered if he fought for you harder in this apartment you called home.

"Hey, it's jude . . I don't know if you still use this number. I just- like I wanted to know if you are okay there. It is home right?" Jude said, trying to form words. At that point, he did not even know who he was talking to.

Maybe a stranger or maybe you.

"I know I am late and you probably hate me more than anything or anyone right now. God, I do not know what I am saying to you." He chuckled. Jude was sitting on those peach stairs, voicemailing you.

"That night, I left and I should not have left you. I should have stood there and apologize till sunrise. I should have done more. But, there is nobody I would love more than you. I am sorry, baby . . I am so sorry I should have said I like Madrid with you in it. I like our home with you in it ."

#jaehymrkwrites #jude bellingham #judebellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fanfiction #jude bellingham scenarios #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham imagine

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ivystoryweaver · 11 months

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With You part 12

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: You and your husband adjust to life with Jake in the mix and Marc gone quiet.

Pairings: Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader, Marc Spector x gn!reader. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3k

Content: fluff, some angst, spicy times (more under the cut)

Warnings: cursing, references to Marc's trama/past, food prep and talk about food (I know this can be triggering for some) sex implied, foreplay, handjob, but language is not overly explicit and is gn. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Steven arrived home from work, having narrowly escaped a London downpour. Setting his bag down right inside the door, he shed his damp jacket and kicked off his shoes, thinking Marc might pipe up and scold him at any moment.

Marc was the neat one. Like military neat. Like, don't leave a mess or mom will make you regret it, neat. Like erase your existence from your alter...from the authorities...from the world, neat.

Steven was the messy one. Scatterbrained, he'd been called by a boss or two. It wasn't so much scatterbrained as it was a bit of unaware brain sharing.

But he hadn't shared much of anything with Marc lately. Not since Khonshu had stripped him of his armor mid-fight and almost gotten him killed. That was two weeks ago.

Padding over to his fish tank, Steven placed his hands on his knees, bending forward to take a look at his tiny little school. There were four fishies now, which almost seemed appropriate. One for Steven, Marc, you and now Jake.

Narrowing his eyes, Steven scrutinized the colorful little creatures before reaching for some fish food.

"All right then, time to eat," he chimed. Dumping a few flakes into the water, he smiled at their eager nibbles, until his eyes caught his own reflection.

"You there?" He asked, not actually addressing anyone, but definitely thinking of Marc. "No? ...didn't think so."

With a sigh, Steven sauntered to the kitchen to start the kettle. The flat was dark - the thunderstorm outside made sure of it, and he worried, for a moment, about you trudging home in these conditions.

"Should be alright," he mused to himself, the way he was prone to do. "Not due home for a couple hours yet."

He stopped short when he saw a note on the kitchen counter. It was not unlike the several notes you had left for Jake, on the bedside table. Same envelope at least.

"What's this, then?" he mused, picking it up.

The letters, displayed in your handwriting, spelled 'Marc'.

"Hm. Left you a note. Best come read it," Steven tried to tell his alter. Hearing nothing, he chewed on his lip for a moment before turning the envelope over in his hand.

The contents really did belong to Marc, but Steven felt that maybe had had the best chance of actually communicating with him. So he opened the letter and began to read aloud.

"Hope you don't mind, but I'm going to be reading this," Steven said to no one, because apparently no one was listening. "If you're not going to look at it, you should at least hear it."

'Dear Marc, I can't remember the last time we've gone so long without seeing one another, or at least speaking. Even on your longest missions, it never felt like this. If I could go back to the last time I saw you huddled on the kitchen floor, I would have never let you out of my arms. I would have never ranted about what Jake should do, or how much I hate Khonshu. I would've just held on and told you the truth over and over - that you're everything. That it didn't matter to me if you wore the suit again without telling me because I trust you, and because you can make your own decisions. I've always trusted your judgment. You are the real Moon Knight and you had every right to put on the suit if you felt like you wanted or needed to. I would have told you I support you 100%, that you're needed, that you're loved - that my anger and my bright ideas about how we should march right up to Khonshu and punch his bony beak didn't matter, not when you were feeling so shut out, so displaced, so thrown backwards in time, made to feel any less than. You are not less than Steven. You are not less than Jake. Or me. And you sure as hell are not less than an ancient deity who needs a modern day human body to roam the streets of London. It is he who needs you. And I need you. I need you, Marc. I need to see you again so badly, I can't even breathe sometimes. Not at night, after Steven falls asleep, not in the shower sometimes, or at work, when someone asks after you. I need you so much. Please, this isn't about making you feel guilty. You're my husband. You are the love of my life. I know you're resting now. I know you're taking the time you need. Steven is taking good care of you. But when you're ready, please, please come back to me. I love you so much.'

Running a hand over his chin, Steven folded the letter and put it back where he found it. Peering at his reflection in the microwave, Steven waited...hoping...

But it was quiet.

The next night, you made it home first. Steven had spoiled you rotten the previous, stormy evening. He claimed he was treating you to some warm soup and a hot bath because you were drenched when you arrived home.

But you knew it was because he read your letter and wanted to cheer you up. In fact, you believed that Steven missed Marc too. They didn't always co-front - you typically were only with one of them at a time, but they did talk all the time, and what you had sworn to Marc one afternoon on the rooftop was true: he was Steven's best friend in all the world.

So, a comforting bath and cuddles in bed made you both feel worlds better.

Tonight you wanted to show Steven a little love right back. It was really too bad that you found yourself elbow deep in making vegan fajitas when you heard the front door, because you desperately wanted a big hug.

"I'm in here, babe!" You called, dripping your way over to the sink to wash up.

Steven would have normally spouted off a greeting, two terms of endearment and one fun fact by the time he reached you, but as you turned to see him leaning against the door frame, you only heard the sound of your name...in an American accent.

Your heart rate tripled - your face flamed hot...then you saw your husband's dark curls were covered by a flat cap.

Holy shit. "Jake?"

"Hola," he winked, folding his arms over his chest. Noticing your apparent distress - and automatically assuming he was the cause, the corners of his mouth turned downward.

"Mi amor?" He questioned, his eyes going wide like a child getting in trouble.

"Jake!" You breathed, rushing up to throw your arms around him.

His body sagged in relief, melting into yours until he found the strength to wrap his bigger, stronger arms around your frame.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you gasped, gripping him desperately. "You're here, I can't believe it."

Surprised but thrilled at how relieved and happy you seemed, Jake nuzzled the spot right above your ear, running his hands up and down your back soothingly.

"I hope it's all right," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear.

Easing back, you gazed up into his deep brown eyes. "What do you mean? Of course it's all right."

Chewing on his lip worriedly, he shrugged one shoulder adorably, still holding on to you. "It's not a bad time, is it? You're not...supposed to be with Steven? Or anyone?"

You melted. "Baby, it's your body. If you're here, you're here. You don't need my permission." Gently caressing his cheek, you shook your head in wonder. "I just - I don't think I've ever seen you before midnight."

Glancing down at his outfit, you realized you didn't recognize his clothing as Steven or Marc's. Your heart swelled, seeing this new piece of him - a faded, denim jacket over a striped t-shirt.

"And I've never seen you wear anything except Steven's PJ's or your driving uniform," you added, brushing your hand over his.

"Or nothing at all," he cheekily added, biting his lip, waiting for your reaction.

You grinned like a fool, giggling as he swooped you up into a tender kiss. He sampled your lips one at a time, sucking gently, taunting you - until you licked hotly into his mouth, sinking your fingers into his curls. This knocked the cap off his head, which made him growl in response.

Two strong hands dragged your thighs around his waist and in a few long strides, he planted you on the countertop with an 'umph!'

"Sorry," he murmured, his forehead touching yours affectionately as he squeezed your hips, settling right between your spread thighs.

"Was that an offer?" you whispered, referring to him wearing nothing at all. Peppering his smiling lips with little kisses and driving him absolutely crazy, you added, "Is that why you're here?"

Easing back slowly, he swallowed. "I just wanted to see you," he earnestly admitted, a little uncertainty creasing his forehead. "I thought...maybe we could have dinner together. Is that okay?"

He was pretty new to this whole...you thing. Being married...sort of. Making an effort to...be with you. And not just sleep beside you. So he wasn't entirely sure if he was barging in to a special evening with Steven. He also wondered if you were hoping he was Marc. Actually, he was pretty certain that the surprise on your face when he first called your name was you mistaking him for Marc, for just a second.

"Come here," you softly cooed, pulling on his jacket to drag his mouth back to yours. Brushing your lips over his, you used your legs to urge his body flush against your center. "Yes, we can have dinner together..." which reminded you - you were mid-fajita prep when Jake arrived.

Tapping him cutely on the nose, you kissed his mouth one more time. "To be continued."

As you carried on with food prep, a different energy sizzled in the kitchen with Jake, most notably because he was a different person. Marc cooked with you plenty of times. In fact, he probably cooked more often than anyone and he was pretty good at it.

Cooking with Marc was precise, detailed - he knew what he wanted to do and you willingly played a supporting role. The two of you moved with practiced synchrony, like a well-rehearsed dance.

With Steven, it was all about experimentation. As a vegan, Steven was used to substituting ingredients and making things up on the fly. He also left a huge, hilarious mess behind, and typically ended up wearing a portion of his recipe.

For this reason, you had bought Steven an apron that said, 'Team Herbivore' which made Marc roll his eyes every time he saw it. Not because of the slogan but because it had three cute little veggies with smiling faces on it.

With Jake, there was no precise exchange of places, nor an experimental mess. Jake moved right with you from behind, loosely caging you in, picking up a spoon you would set down, stirring while you reached for a knife. You chopped and he added spices. He didn't even ask.

Once your hand was knife free and scraping veggies into the skillet, he was nuzzling into your neck and humming.

You lost your concentration a few times because he was just so close.

"This okay?" He would ask periodically, slipping his hand around your waist to sway with you.

"Where did you learn to cook?" You giggled, melting at the sound of his apparent singing voice?

He paused, going a little stiff.

Hoping you hadn't hit a nerve, you turned around slowly to find him smiling wistfully. "I used to watch my mom."

Your eyes widened as you tried to figure out what to say. Marc had never mentioned cooking with his mom, or her really cooking much at all. He had mentioned going to bed hungry though.

"I know...how she was," Jake softly interjected into your buzzing thoughts. "Especially with Marc." His gaze dropped as he eased back a step. "But sometimes, she would sing in Spanish. And cook. Sometimes I helped."

Reaching for his hand, you gently squeezed. "I didn't know you guys spoke Spanish until we met," you admitted, trying your best to connect a little more with Jake. "That sounds like a wonderful memory."

"One of the few," he sighed. Almost shyly meeting your eyes, he smiled warmly. "I've never told anyone that - or anything...about her."

Using your hold on his hand to pull him closer, you slid one arm around his waist. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed back, nodding over your shoulder toward the sizzling skillet. "Better stir, mi vida."

Jake's seasonings were totally on point and dinner was delicious. The two of you cleaned up the kitchen and headed to the living room to relax. You noticed Jake sat a little awkwardly on the sofa - in total contrast to the smooth, panther like movements you were accustomed to, late at night, in your bedroom.

"Jake, you okay?" You asked him, grabbing your current reading material and settling down beside him.

He nodded unconvincingly. This was wildly foreign to him. Jake only did a few things in this world: protect, kill when he had to, serve Khonshu, sleep and fuck. He didn't even eat that often - his alters usually saw to most of the body's physical care.

"What...what do you do? At night? What should I do?" He adorably asked.

You almost laughed, it was so cute, but you didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Well...Marc and I play card games or do puzzles. We watch baseball games or old action movies - "

"You like baseball?" He asked, his eyes lighting up.

"I do," you confirmed with a smile. "The time change is a little weird from here to Chicago or New York, but we watch some afternoon games, or we watch older games."

He nodded, absorbing the information as you went on.

"Steven and I read together, or he reads to me. We like documentaries too. Sometimes I help him study for school." You chuckled, wondering if this all sounded boring to such a night owl like Jake. "Sometimes we have word search races - like, to see who can finish the fastest."

"I do crosswords in my car sometimes," Jake shrugged, as if he totally understood the appeal. "Do you like crosswords?"

"Mm-hmm," you grinned.

It was on. The two of you found a crossword website online and printed out two copies of the same puzzle. Turning on your phone's stopwatch, the race was on.

Jake kicked your ass.

"Let's go again," he chimed, finding another crossword on the laptop. "Loser has to take of their clothes."

You gasped, pretending to be offended. "Mr. Lockley," you playfully scolded.

Hearing you call him Mister anything had him shutting the laptop and scooping you up in his arms, almost racing to the bedroom. "Fuck it," he chuckled. "I surrender, I'll take off my clothes."

You howled with laughter as he deposited you on the bed and kicked off his shoes. Next came his socks - then he went for his belt. Shit, he wasn't kidding.

Crawling backwards on the bed, you settled back to enjoy the show, propped up on a pile of pillows.

Jake had peeled off his jacket while you were cooking, so once his pants were loose, he tugged off his t-shirt. You licked your lips at the way his abdomen flexed at the motion, and almost mewled at the way the shirt's collar mussed his curls. Then he paused, checking for a reaction before removing his pants.

"Don't let me stop you...Mr. Lockley," you teased, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

The corner of his mouth curled as he pushed his pants and boxers all the way down. Leaning forward to kick them off his feet, a loose curl fell across his forehead.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him naked and ready for you. Climbing onto the bed on his hands and knees, he hovered over you, reveling in the way your eyes devoured him.

"Your turn," he purred, teasing you with a nibble to your lips.

Running your hands all over his smooth skin, you felt between his legs, teasing his length with your fingertips.

Hissing in pleasure, he more than willingly allowed you to have your way, licking wickedly into your mouth while grinding into your palm.

"Do you really read and study all the time, mi vida?" He groaned out, rolling his hips in time with your strokes. "Or is this more your idea of fun?"

"Definitely this," you breathed against his mouth. "A fucking lot of this."

Spending the evening with Jake was a balm to your tender heart. You had seen him since the night Khonshu healed him - since your first night together - but only late at night, for a quick conversation, or for a repeat performance.

So spending an entire, domestic evening with him, ending up between the sheets for hours, before falling asleep draped across his naked body - you were in heaven. Maybe Jake really was going to ease into your life - actually be in a relationship with you.

Your heart swelled with love for your husband - for all the lovely, wonderful parts of the system he was. You would have to grab some extra ingredients from the store and plan another vegan fajita night for Steven, since Jake enjoyed the first batch. Not that Steven minded, angel that he was.

Which only left Marc.

Even with your heart so full and alive, there was still a gaping hole. As always, you tried not to put the other two in the middle of any situation, or treat them like messengers to try to get to Marc. But they were more than ready with updates.

Steven had confessed to reading the letter, and trying to talk out loud to Marc several times a day. Jake said the same, finally asking you if maybe it was his fault that Marc was so absent - so silent.

The three of you agreed that Marc just needed some time. As always, you decided not to take it personally. This was about him.

You beat Steven home again the following evening, and this time, waiting on the kitchen counter, was an envelope bearing your name.

next->

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dividers by saradika

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