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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

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Theodore Nott. | be my first.

PAIRING: Theodore Nott x Reader

PROMPT: “PLEASE please do a Theodore nott x fem!reader virgin!!”

WORD COUNT: 5.5k.

TAGS: 18+, Mentions of Slight Violence, Depictions of Blood, SMUT, Fingering, Bestfriends to Lovers Trope (my personal fav), Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Slow Sex, Soft!Theo, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk.

"I don't know, Pans, wouldn't that be weird?"

Pansy's laughter echoed in a melodious giggle, the rhythm of her steps creating a soft shuffle across the expanse of your shared dorm. With effortless grace, she descended onto your bed, settling in with a languid poise. Laying on her side, her head found a comfortable perch on her bent arm.

"Why would it be weird?" Her grin, radiant and infectious, painted a mischievous allure across her features. "He's your lifelong best friend. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you-"

"Absolutely not," you interjected, employing a dramatic flourish with your hands for emphasis. "He is not."

Pansy cast a sidelong glance your way. "He so is."

"He's not!" Your grin persisted as you fired back, "if he was, he wouldn't be regaling me with tales of the girls he's shagging every bloody weekend."

Pansy, after a moment of silent contemplation, arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps he's just doing that to make you jealous. Ever think of that?"

You released a sigh, your body surrendering to the bed's embrace as you slumped backwards. The gentle thud of your head meeting the pillows echoed the weight of your contemplations, and memories from the past few weeks intruded your mind--acknowledging the nuanced shifts in Theodore's behaviour, particularly since that one unforgettable common room party.

As the realization took root, you abruptly sat up, the intensity of the revelation reflected in your eyes as they locked onto Pansy's gaze. "Pans...he's been acting distinctly different lately."

Pansy blinked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're just noticing?"

"No, I mean," your thoughts scattered like confetti, your heart pulsating with the weight of the revelation. You realized you hadn't told her. "Ever since that party, the one last Friday in the common room...where we, um...we kissed."

Pansy's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her jaw dropping in a dramatic display of shock. With a swift, purposeful motion, she sat up, aligning her gaze with yours, the unfiltered surprise etched vividly across her face.

"What the hell!" Her exclamation rang with feigned outrage. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Your expression contorted into a frown as you extended a gentle hand, resting it on Pansy's shoulder. "I'm sorry...we both agreed it was a stupid mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone. We knew you guys would relentlessly hound us about it...I just...I just couldn't risk it..."

Pansy took a measured moment to process your words, her eyes narrowing slightly. She ran a hand through her raven-black hair, the gears turning behind her eyes, thoughts churning with an amused yet contemplative air as she processed your confession.

With an entertained huff, she locked eyes with you. "I can't believe that little weasel kept his mouth shut for all that time. Guess he really can keep a secret."

An assertive snort escaped you, relief from her reaction igniting your features. "Probably just doesn't want me to hate him, considering we're bound to cross paths at every family gathering. Our families are so tightly knit..."

Pansy reclined with a subtle smirk gracing her lips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Her fingers traced an intricate, invisible pattern on your emerald green bedspread, their movements betraying a simmering excitement.

Meeting your gaze with unwavering confidence, she responded, "yet another advantage for you, and another compelling reason to go for it."

You shifted, your posture a nuanced blend of contemplation and uncertainty. Your fingers delicately toyed with the hem of your shirt, a nervous energy manifesting in the subtle dance of fabric against your skin.

In the pregnant pause that followed, you countered, "I just...I just can't envision a scenario where asking my best friend to take my virginity works out in my favour."

"I can't see a world where it doesn't," Pansy replied with a softness that hinted at the weight of her conviction. Sitting up again, she met your eyeline, the motion accompanied by a deliberate brush of loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Her gaze held a depth of understanding as she continued, "You guys clearly love each other, given you've known each other forever. He's always Mr. Funny Guy with you, perpetually super flirty and protective...I genuinely believe he'd be happy to oblige."

Absorbing Pansy's counsel with a thoughtful nod, you murmured a grateful, "I'll think about it."

Rising in unison, the two of you traversed to your respective wardrobes, swapping the gravity of the previous discourse for the ease of more casual attire. Satisfied with your choices, you exited the dorm, descending toward the common room. The soft glow of dimmed sconces on stone walls cast an intimate ambiance, while a low hum of hushed conversations and sporadic laughter created a comforting background symphony.

As you stepped into the common room, an immediate sense of unease gripped you. Your attention honed in on the far corner, where a palpable commotion unfolded. Brows furrowing with concern, your gaze fixated on a group of clustered bodies--Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all converged around someone.

Instinctively, you made your way over, Pansy following closely behind. As you approached the charged scene, you reached out, placing a steadying hand on Mattheo's arm in an attempt to capture his attention. The air buzzed with tension as you sought to understand the cause of the brewing conflict.

"Matt, what's happening?" you inquired, peering past him to catch sight of a bloodied Malfoy standing at the center of the circle. "Did you do this?"

"No, it was Nott," he retorted, his dark eyes meeting yours as he ran a hand through his dishelved curly hair. "They had a little disagreement--nothing too crazy."

Your gaze swept around the circle, capturing the aftermath of the disagreement. Malfoy wiped the blood from his chin on the back of his hand, keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Meeting everyone's eyes, your search finally settled on Theo, his nose bleeding and a minor cut marring his chin.

A heavy sigh escaped you, the weariness evident in your tone. "Do your petty disagreements always have to escalate into a damn bloodbath?"

Mattheo nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "When they involve Nott...pretty much, yeah."

With an exasperated scoff, you distanced yourself from him, striding purposefully toward Theo. The cerulean depth of his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a battered hand running through his tousled hair as he shook his head in a frustrated scowl.

"What happened?" you inquired, genuine concern lacing your voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Theo's jaw clenched, his stormy gaze shifting from your face to fixate on something over your shoulder. "Sorry prat had it coming."

His eyes locked onto Draco, who was now being tended to by Pansy, the lingering fury evident in the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his gaze. Theo was not merely angry; he was simmering with a profound frustration that permeated the air around him. Sensing his reluctance to share details, you delicately grasped his arm, lowering your voice into a soothing whisper.

"Come on, Theo," you murmured, your tone gentle and calming. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

With a reluctant nod, he cast one last glance over your shoulder before allowing you to guide him out of the common room and back down the dormitory hall. Upon reaching his dorm, he unlocked the door with a brief motion, and you stepped in first.

Navigating the familiar space, you headed straight to his bathroom, grabbing a wet cloth and some ointment. As he took a seat on his bed, the routine unfolded seamlessly--a ritual born out of many similar occasions. Cleaning up your best friend was a well-practiced chore, a testament to his quick temper and penchant for confrontation. It was second nature to you, an unspoken agreement that you'd always be there for him in these moments.

Emerging from the bathroom, you noticed Theo had already cast a silencing and muffling spell over the room. A waft of smoke hung in the air as he lit up a cigarette, his darkened gaze keenly tracking your every movement as you approached.

You came to a halt in front of him, and he widened his stance, creating a space for you to nestle between his legs. Seated on his bed while you stood, the two of you aligned perfectly at eye level. A surge pulsed through you as you observed his plush lips sealing around the cigarette, his long fingers delicately holding it to his mouth. After a quick ashing on his nightstand, he granted you the space to tend to him.

Raising the cloth to his chin, you softly dabbed over the cut, your gaze fixed on the subtle flutter of his long lashes--like delicate wings of a butterfly. A scowl etched his features, and your hands trembled inexplicably, watching his brows furrow, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. His own hands rested on his knees on either side of your hips, fingers twitching from the sting of your movements.

In a bid to alleviate some of his discomfort, your voice echoed as a delicate murmur. "Do you remember the first time I did this?"

"How could I forget?" He met your gaze, his stormy eyes flickering as his lips teased a subtle smirk. "My personal saviour, always cleaning up my messes."

Pleased with the condition of the cut, you glided the cloth along the sharp ridge of his jawline, meticulous in collecting every trace of dried blood. Progressing to his nose, you repeated the careful process--his eyes remained fixed on your face, observing each subtle movement as you concentrated on restoring his appearance, gently swiping over his lips last.

Grinning at his words, you locked eyes with him. "You're right...I've been quite the skilled nurse, haven't I?"

He chuckled, a deep sound resonating through his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "The best damn nurse I've ever had."

You laughed, a warmth dancing across your skin as you pulled the cloth from his face.

"Now that's a compliment, considering you've been in the hospital wing a lot of damn times," you quipped, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I should be getting compensation for my efforts."

"Compensation?" He grinned, the playful glint in his blue eyes unmistakable. "How about I owe you a pack of cigarettes and a promise to keep the brawls to a minimum?"

Smirking, you couldn't hide the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Please, you and I both know your promises mean very little, Nott." As you stepped back, you added, "but I'll take the cigarettes."

Before you could get very far, Theo's large hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, halting your movements as well as the breath in your lungs. Your gaze riveted to the hand, the touch sending a shiver through your skin, before slowly moving back up to meet Theo's eyes. Within their depths churned something profound, a silent intensity that stopped your heart in your chest.

"You want to know why I fought him?" he said, his voice so deep it was almost imperceptible. "Malfoy."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you waited for him to elaborate. "Sure."

Theo's grip tightened on your wrist, his jaw tensing as his eyes drilled into yours. "He said that if he wasn't with Pansy, he'd have gotten with you a long time ago," he confessed, the words carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "He claimed your hard-to-get facade is all an act...that you're really a little slut..."

Your eyes widened at Theo's revelation, a mixture of surprise and disbelief sweeping across your features. Your pulse quickened, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of the situation.

"He said that?" you muttered, the weight of Malfoy's words sinking in. Theo's grip on your wrist loosened, and a subtle vulnerability flickered in his eyes as his hand slid lower, fingers finding yours.

"I don't care what he thinks, but hearing him talk about you like that...I couldn't let it slide," he admitted, his voice softer now, revealing the protective undertone that fueled his actions. "He doesn't know..."

"...that I'm a virgin," you said, finishing his sentence with a hushed admission.

Theo's expression softened as he nodded, and his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want anyone disrespecting you like that, especially not him," he said, a mixture of concern and sincerity in his gaze. "You're a fucking angel, he doesn't deserve to even think about you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, warmth spreading through you at his words. Your gaze locked in with his, his eyes momentarily dropping to your lips, yours doing the same. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken emotions as Theo’s declaration lingered. His protective stance and words resonated deeply, and you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of his sentiments.

Silent acknowledgment settled within you, a quiet admission that the dynamics between you and Theo had shifted. The boy who had once been your childhood best friend was now a source of desire and an unexpected depth of affection. Over the years, his presence had woven into the fabric of your heart, evolving into a sentiment that transcended mere friendship.

"Thank you, Theo..." you murmured, involuntarily leaning closer. "Thank you for-"

Before you could finish the sentence, Theo's hands shifted with intent, cradling the sides of your face as he drew your lips to his. The hunger in his mouth was palpable, a dance of devotion and purpose, his tongue delving past your teeth without a moment's hesitation.

Your lids fluttered shut, your brain caught off guard, taking a seemingly eternal five seconds to gather itself from the molten state it found itself in, the realization dawning that you weren't merely passively enjoying this kiss--you were actively engaging, meeting his fervour with equal intensity.

Your hands instinctively sought his messy hazelnut strands, fingers threading through them as you pressed against him, the world beyond the kiss momentarily forgotten in the heated exchange. As the kiss progressed, your mind struggled to fathom the reality of locking lips with your best friend--a completely sober, unrestrained exchange with no intentions of stopping.

And then, before you could process it, large hands enveloped your lower thighs, drawing you closer as Theo reclined onto his plush green duvet, the soft fabric embracing his back with a gentle touch. Your hands landed involuntarily with a deliberate force on his chest, seeking stability as you shifted to straddle his waist.

The kiss intensified, one of his hands securing the back of your head, while the other boldly explored the curve of your hip, his pelvis pressing against yours, his erection evident even between your layers of clothing.

A low, involuntary moan escaped your lips as his undeniable hardness pressed against you, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. It kindled a fervent desire within you, a flame only he could stoke. Your hands transitioned from his chest and back into the tousled richness of his hair, fingers entwining in the silky strands. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you caught your breath, panting softly as you gazed down at him through eyes clouded with lust.

Theo's lips curled into a knowing smirk, evident satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the effect he had on you. His hands traversed the landscape of your back, drawing you back down to him. Your bodies melded together, the heat rising between you palpable. You instinctively moved your hips against his crotch, craving more of the intoxicating friction that left your senses spinning, and a low groan escaped him, his hands guiding your hips back and forth.

"What are we doing..." Theo whispered, his voice a breathy murmur, his head falling back, and his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of quiet contemplation. "I told myself I wouldn't do this with you again."

Your heart hammered in your throat, your fingers trembling as his hands grazed the curve of your ass. In a mere pant, you breathed, "do what?"

His fingers traced a slow path to the back of your head, gently guiding your lips back to his.

The heat between you intensified as he whispered, "this," against your mouth, his soft breath sparking heat in your veins.

A low, desperate sound escaped your throat, a mixture of a mewl and a moan, as the fire in your core reached an almost unbearable intensity. Theo groaned in response, his grip on your hips tightening, and with a swift motion, he flipped the two of you around, placing you on your back beneath him. His hips pressed into yours with a force that felt like an attempt to fuse you with his mattress, his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him.

"Theo," you murmured against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair in a desperate attempt to part his mouth from yours, yearning for a breath of air. "Theo...”

Refusing to break the kiss, Theo groaned into your mouth, his hand cradling the side of your head, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a feather-light touch. He rocked his hips against you, both teetering on the brink of losing yourselves entirely. The restrained passion and tension accumulated from years of friendship were on the verge of breaking free.

Finally, in a gasp of air, Theo pulled back, both of your chests heaving, your lungs reaching for oxygen in desperation. His blue eyes dipped over your face, lingering for a moment before trailing lower. With a regretful realization, he shifted back onto his knees, putting a disappointing amount of space between your bodies, as if just coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.

"Fuck," he murmured, running an unsteady hand through his hair. "I...I'm sorry-"

"Theo...I want you," you cut him off, the desperation evident in your voice as you expressed your desire for him. "Please..."

Theo's eyes flickered, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You..."

"Yes," you whispered, a subtle flush colouring your cheeks as you pushed aside any embarrassment. "I want you to be my first, Theo."

Theo leaned back down, his hand gently cupping your chin as he directed your eyes to meet his intense gaze, his fingers digging into your skin only slightly.

"Are you fucking serious?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Don't play with me, principessa..."

"Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" you replied, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Of course, I'm serious."

Theo's countenance softened with a tender gaze as he scrutinized your face, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty. Discovering none, he leaned in, planting a delicate kiss against your lips. His hand gracefully transitioned from your chin, weaving into your hair with a gentle, reassuring touch.

"You don't know how fucking long I've wanted you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his desire. "But I don't want to fucking hurt you...I don't know if I'll be able to control myself..."

Your fingers gently traced the contours of his face as you held his gaze. "Theo, we've known each other for so long, there's no one I trust more than you...I know you'll be gentle with me..."

Theo's gaze softened further at your words, and he leaned in for another kiss. His hand embarked on a slow journey from the strands of your hair, delicately tracing the curves of your body until it found the waistband of your sweats, teasingly playing with it.

"Gonna' need to ease you into it, principessa," he whispered against your lips, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Let me know if it's too much, alright?"

As you nodded, your hands migrated from his shoulders to entwine in his hair. His hand daringly slipped beneath the cotton fabric, and a gasp involuntarily escaped your lips as he skillfully explored the warmth between your thighs with his fingers. Simultaneously, his lips traced a tantalizing path down past your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Mm, you're already so fucking wet for me..." he nipped your neck and you squealed, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair. "Gonna' fill you up so good...stretch you out just for me..."

Pleasure rippled through your thighs, your heartbeat thumping in your core. "Theo..."

"Mhmm," he breathed as he trailed lower, mouth grazing over your collarbone, long fingers teasing over your clit, coating himself in your slick. "Fuck, I've wanted to hear you moan my name like that for years...you've completely fucking tortured me, bella..."

You gasped as he teased your clit again, fervent fingers digging into his scalp. "You-you never made a move-"

Theo groaned against your skin, his free hand sliding up to pull your shirt along your stomach, and then skillfully tugging on your bra, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. His lips parted, and a deep lust filled his eyes as he immediately cupped one breast in his palm, skillfully flicking a stiffening nipple between his fingers.

"Fuck me," he muttered before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, skillfully twirling his tongue around the bud. "I didn't want to complicate our friendship, bella mia...I didn't want to risk losing you..."

Theo's mouth moved to your other nipple, and he deftly took it between his lips, suckling on it before tracing circles around it with his tongue. You moaned, feeling your body respond to his touch, your hips jerking involuntarily as he pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His thumb resumed its motions on your clit, coaxing sounds of desire from deep within you.

Heat scorched your blood. "F-fuck, Theo..."

"Is this okay?" he muttered, pulling back slightly to examine your face. "You're so fucking tight."

You nodded, incapable of forming a coherent thought as your body's reaction was immediate, every fiber of your being inundated by intense, mind-numbing pleasure. Theo groaned as he brought his lips back to your nipple, skillfully pulling it into his mouth. Your entire body quivered beneath him, unable to comprehend how rapidly your impending orgasm was overwhelming you.

"Oh, Gods, Theo..." you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold in his hair like you were trying to pry it from his scalp. "Oh, fuck-"

Theo heightened his rhythm, skillfully adding another finger inside you as he fervently zeroed in on your sensitive nub with vigorous strokes. Your vocabulary dissolved into a symphony of flailing wails and moans, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as he sensually flicked his tongue over one nipple before seamlessly transitioning to the other.

"That's right, darling..." he cooed against your chest, his voice torn and barely restrained, a low rasp that sent a thrill up your spine. "Let go for me...I've got you..."

His words alone ignited a blaze of warmth across your skin, and as much as you desired to resist, to not succumb so swiftly, it was inevitable and overwhelming, your orgasm slamming into you like a powerful shot to the gut.

"Shit-Theo!" Your jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back. "I'm-i'm-"

Your vision whitened as you broke, every nerve in your body pulsating with ecstasy. It was a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake. Theo's movements never faltered, his touch relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form.

"That's it--fuck--so perfect..." he breathed, rubbing you through the remnants of your aftershocks. "Such a good fucking girl...did that feel good?"

You nodded, still gasping for breath as you tried to compose yourself. "Yes," you said, feeling a flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. "It felt amazing."

"Yeah?" Theo whispered, his hand withdrawing as he shifted to press his lips softly against yours. "You like cumming for your best friend, huh? Enjoy making a mess all over my fingers?"

You released a throaty groan against his demanding mouth as his skilled hands effortlessly peeled down your sweatpants and panties, revealing the goosebumped flush of your skin. His shirt swiftly joined the discarded clothes, exposing the sculpted lines of his torso. Unrelenting, his eyes remained fixed on yours as he leaned back to undo his belt with a controlled urgency.

Once successful, he leaned back over you and a large hand cupped your jaw, his voice a low, commanding murmur.

"I didn't hear an answer," he stated, the timbre of his words sending shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I need to make you cum again?"

You huffed, a subtle squirm beneath him accentuating the anticipation, his free hand teasing the tender skin of your inner thigh. "Theodore..."

"Would you like that?" he muttered, his lips drawing nearer, the grip on your jaw tightening. "You want me to make you cum all over my bedsheets again, hm?"

His fingers caressed over your heat, teasing your folds, and you arched against his touch, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. You could sense he was attempting to buy himself time, to talk himself down from his excitement. His restraint hung by a thread, self-control wavered under the sight of you withering beneath him.

Swallowing hard, your throat felt drier than the desert as you met his gaze with pleading eyes. "Please, Theo," you whimpered, "stop teasing."

"Fuck--so eager for me, yeah?" he purred, releasing your jaw to slide his boxers down his thighs, pulling free his thick, long cock. "Let's see if we can sate this pretty little pussy."

Your breath fled from your lungs, your jaw practically dropping to the floor. He was massive, even in his own big hand, even as he pumped himself, sliding his fist back and forth over his length as his eyes burned wounds into the flesh of your tits. You whined, your core clenching and screaming with need, drool threatening to pour down the sides of your lips as your desperate eyes shifted between his eyes and his dick.

"Fucking hell, Theo..." your brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, and those words were the only ones that managed to slip past your lips. "You never mentioned...so massive..."

He huffed, and you knew he was watching you--his irises igniting in flames, a tiny smirk teasing his lips as you watched him stroke himself faster, harder.

"I didn't want to intimidate you before you got to experience how good it can be," he murmured, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm well aware of your disdain for men with oversized egos."

Your breath caught in your throat as your brain struggled to process the revelation. Losing your virginity to your lifelong best friend, who knew you better than you knew yourself, and who had purposely kept the extent of his endowment a secret, fearing it might scare you off. The boundary between reality and dream blurred, leaving you in a surreal haze of disbelief.

"Just shut up and show me," you finally managed to whisper, your desire overcoming any reservations. "Show me how good it can be."

"Easy, principessa, don't get greedy now," he murmured, his hands firmly grasping your thighs to pull you closer. "You're not ready for everything I have to offer just yet."

Theo leaned back over you, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck and over your collarbone--forearm framing your face, other hand gripping his cock, angling the glistening tip toward your throbbing entrance, teasing you briefly with a few false thrusts, slicking his length in your wetness.

"Are you ready?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "To feel me inside of you, filling you up?"

Your voice barely more than a breath, you nodded in response, averting your gaze to the ceiling. "Please."

Theo huffed, pulling his face from your neck, long fingers directing your gaze to meet his eyes.

"Look at me, bella..." he looped an arm under your neck, long fingers holding you in place. "I want you to look into my eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."

Your lips parted in awe, speechless and utterly intoxicated. Doing as he said, you held his gaze, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the ocean waves of his eyes. Theo groaned, his own breath shallow as he pressed the head of his dick into you, pushing you apart, and you whimpered, clenching before he even entered you. You were quaking--and he hissed through his teeth before he'd fully sank into you, letting loose a low, deep groan as your wet cunt swallowed his cock.

"Shh," he purred, glimpsing your lips. "Just a little bit more..."

Pleasure and pain erupted through your bloodstream as he stretched you wide, a sharp cry leaving your throat as he pushed deeper and deeper, stroking into your heat with the pace of a snail, inch by agonizing inch--pausing once he'd sunk in to the base. You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, and you were breathless, unable to fathom how big he was, how full he made you feel.

"Fucking hell, are you okay?" he muttered almost under his breath, his voice cracking with concern as he looked into your eyes, his blue gaze searching for any sign of distress. When you merely nodded, the desperation in his expressions intensified. "Please, talk to me...keep me grounded..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. "And what do you mean, 'keep you grounded'?"

Theo sighed heavily, emitting a low groan, his breath catching in his lungs as he withdrew slightly before smoothly gliding back into you. You whimpered, still holding his gaze, lips parted in unbelievable bliss. His hand cradled your head, staring at you with gleaming eyes as he found his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full.

"I-I, fuck," he grunted through gritted teeth as he stared down at you. "You're so tight, so fucking wet...I can barely control myself..."

He lowered himself, ensnaring your lips in a profound, fervent kiss while maintaining a deliberate pace within you. Each rhythmic thrust unleashed renewed waves of ecstasy, prompting unrestrained moans from your chest and sending you writhing beneath him.

"You feel so good," he whispered as one of his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. "I can't believe how fucking tight you are. You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, my pretty little virgin."

Your nails clawed at his back, your walls squeezing his thick length with every thrust. "Theo-harder, please..."

"Yeah? You want more, pretty girl?" he whispered, warm breath enveloping your ear. "Such a needy little pussy..."

You gasped, nodding as his lips attacked your neck. "Please, please-"

"Anything for you," he responded, his voice torn, each syllable saturated with longing. "Filthy little--fuck,"

He surged into heightened motion, the force of his hips colliding with yours intensifying upon your command. A sharp cry escaped you when he skillfully found that responsive spot within you, immediately unleashing a cascade of pleasure that surged through your body like electric currents. The intensity reached a near-overwhelming point, a delicate dance between ecstasy and a hint of exquisite pain, causing unbridled moans to spill from your lips uncontrollably.

"Mm," he grunted, a near growl in your ear. "Pretty pussy taking me so well,"

His paced increased again, slamming into your cervix with every thrust. His fingers resumed their work on your clit, yanking you toward your climax, your body being whiplashed with pleasure. You bit down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams as your pussy squeezed him harder, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his cock slamming into you, his fingers battering your nub.

"Theo--w-wait," your words stumbled amidst waves of pleasure, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding onslaught. "Theo, please-I can't, I-it's too much...”

"Come on baby, I know you're close," his voice, raspy and unbridled, revealed the shattering of his self-control. He relentlessly pounded into you, beads of sweat adhering his hair to a glistening forehead. "I felt you squeezing me--fuck--you can take it..."

You gasped for breath, a desperate symphony echoing your lungs' protest as your teeth found refuge in his skin. Fingers, possessed by an almost primal force, clawed into his back, leaving an indelible mark. Theo's movements, unyielding and masterful, propelled you inexorably towards the precipice of climax, each sensation more vivid than the last.

"Theo-" you practically screamed, your body buzzing in anticipation. "I'm gonna' cum, Theo-fuck-"

"Let me hear you," he said, voice shredded raw. "I want to hear you scream for me...I want to hear you moaning my name as this tight little cunt breaks for me..."

"Oh, fuck.." you moaned, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Theo...oh Gods, fuck..."

You shattered, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. Your eyes rolled back, vision going blank as squeals and screeches left your lips in nothing more than mumbling nonsense.

Theo groaned, bliss numbing your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, gripping you tighter until he too exploded, breath sputtering as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture.

In the aftermath, an extended silence enveloped the room--long after the cadence of your breaths normalized, long after the faculties of your minds fully reassembled. Theo finally stirred, rolling off you to settle on the mattress, where he promptly drew you into the sanctuary of his embrace.

"Can we acknowledge our feelings already?" Theo teased, fingers delicately brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll fight you if we go back to just being friends after all of that.”

You huffed, on the precipice of unrestrained laughter. "Only if you go first."

As you shifted to lock eyes with him, a smirk adorned his face, that mischievous grin unfurling across his impeccably plush lips. "Fine…I'm fucking in love with you."

Your own smirk surfaced, a surge of warmth coursing through you as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "I'm in love with you too, you dork."

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queers-gambit · 2 years

Text

Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses

prompt: when Eddie confesses he wants to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom, you start coughing out flower petals.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 8.8k [got a bit carried away]

note: given ages aren't confirmed in the show, let's establish that Chrissy is 17-18 years old, and Eddie's 19. reader's 18.

warnings: Hanahaki Disease ([Japanese folklore] fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when suffering from one-sided love), cursing, angst, seemingly unrequited love, but things work out! ✅ no spoilers

other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease fics: Tears in the Rain Gone with the Sin

Like every other Friday night, you hitched a ride back to his trailer with Eddie as you had nowhere else to be. Well, probably wasn't true as you were a social butterfly with plenty of prospective friends to hang out with, but your favorite place on any given day was always with Eddie.

He was home, he was safety, he was warmth, he was what you needed after either a really bad, or even a really good day.

Eddie had this superpower where he could either turn your bad mood around or he could increase your happiness tenfold. He was next to never upset or angry or frustrated, he was content to vibe in a constant state of "chill".

Your feelings for him might've started around your sophomore year, when he decked Jason Carver in the jaw for making you uncomfortable. Even to this day - it was one of the only times you've seen him angry, and the fact that it was because Jason was flirting with you made your heart lift. It spurred the hate between the two boys, but only solidified your everlasting friendship with Eddie. Yet, you buried these feelings out of fear of rejection, and change - you didn't want things to change.

You liked things where they were.

But it was getting harder to pretend you didn't like your best friend. As if everything he did didn't make you feel silly, stupid, and giddy all at once.

As if those wide, brown, doe eyes didn't make you melt, yet simultaneously make you feel stronger than before. A single look from him could give you enough confidence for a week.

As if his antics, pet names, hand holds, late night cuddle sessions when you were feeling lonely didn't put your stomach in knots but send you heart up to the sky, like if was filled with helium.

However, you were content because you never wanted to lose him. So, you'd suffer through whatever this was if it meant he stayed close. Despite the heaviness in your chest, you continued to pretend nothing was wrong because if Eddie picked up on it, he would surely hound you until you confessed - something you couldn't handle.

So, you curled up beside him in his (stained) bed with your head leaning on his shoulder as his hands distracted themselves by fiddling with the strings on his acoustic guitar while you nursed the joint between your lips. You were content to simply exist with him; be in his presence and listen to his musical talents. Occasionally, your hand would raise the joint to his lips, allowing him to take his own hit and for the peacefulness to prolong.

Things were good - like they've been for the past few years of being "best friends". I mean, yeah, you knew Eddie before the "Jason incident", but you were just a Freshman that only knew the town's Freak from a distance. You had two classes together. Often saw him at lunch. Sometimes gave him notes if he missed class. And ever since that day that he protected you from Jason's creepy moves, you've been thicker than thieves.

Things were quiet in his room outside of the occasional crackling of the joint's end, and his lazy strumming; things were peaceful; things were good.

Until Eddie sighed and leaned back to the wall behind you both, interrupting the simple thoughts in your head.

"What's up?" You asked quietly, turning to ash the joint in the plastic tray on his bedside table. "Huffin' pretty loud over there, pretty boy, I can practically hear you overthinking."

"It's stupid," he chuckled, focusing on the strings beneath his fingertips again. "Don't even think about it."

"I doubt it's nothing," you countered. "C'mon, you tell me any and everything."

"I, uh... I don't know how to tell you this thing, though..."

Now you were curious, "You kill someone?"

"What? No! God!"

"Gotta hide a body?"

"Not this weekend."

Nodding, you asked, "You fuck my mom?"

"Not yet, but can't say it's not on my to-do list," he teased lightly.

"Then I don't know what scenario there could be that you're too scared to tell me," you chuckled, smoking wafting in the thin air between you both, lingering from the lack of circulation. "C'mon, cutie, what's up with you? You don't usually hold back."

He sighed, the strings plucking harshly as he his head flopped back now. "It's just... Have you given any thought to prom?"

"Prom?" You repeated with a small laugh. "Not entirely, I don't know. Why? Thinking of crashing it?"

But he was silent, which made you a little nervous. You sat up and turned to face him head-on, your criss-crossed legs resulting in one knee pressing to his thigh. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a subtle shake from his head assured you that he changed his mind.

"Are you going?" he asked softly instead.

"Um, nobody's asked so I don't know. I'd like to, maybe," you tried to joke. "Why? You offering?"

He chuckled lowly, "Uh, well, I would be, if..."

"If?"

He gulped, "You know Chrissy?"

Of course you knew Chrissy Cunningham, who didn't? You didn't live under a rock, for God's sake. She was the designated 'it girl' of Hawkins, the 'queen' as people dubbed her - a sweet girl who was captain of the cheer squad that had an impeccable smile. Adorable strawberry blonde hair. A petite body, sweet voice, and of course, she'd been Eddie's crush since middle school. Yeah, you knew Chrissy Cunningham.

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding slowly. "What about her?"

"Well, I uh... I was thinking of asking her to prom. You know, before we graduate and get the fuck out of this town... Thought maybe I'd try my hand, you know? See if... See if something could finally happen."

You swear your ears started ringing because no way you heard him correctly, right? No way he was telling you he was going to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom - no way. There wasn't any way. After all, the plan since about a year ago was that you would go together pending no other offers. No way the guy you've been in-love with for fucking YEARS was telling you he wanted to ask someone else.

And Eddie didn't know, but about 8 different guys had already asked you but you didn't want to go with them. You wanted Eddie to ask you - you wanted to spend a night of teenage normalcy with your best friend, and maybe get the chance to confess your feelings for him on the dance floor. Maybe you'd dress to match. Maybe he'd even get you a corsage - but Eddie wasn't the type.

So, why was he thinking about asking Chrissy? High school thriving Chrissy? Who would definitely want the stereotypical high school experience? Like - prom with a pretty dress, lots of laughter, her date giving her a corsage as her mom snapped pictures.

She would want all that, right? Would Eddie be the right date to give it to her?

You were honestly shocked he wanted to even go due to the idea that anything socially conforming was out of bounds for him. And when you made that pact, it was mostly out of a joke but you had hoped this whole time he was being serious. And he was being serious about prom, but not with you...

"Sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly, his brows now furrowed in concentration. "You okay? You look a little shaky."

Instantly, you nodded. "Yeah, totally, just, um... Just remembered I have this huge essay due Monday, yeah, uh-huh, yep. I should probably get started on it." Eddie's brows now fully crinkled as you jerked your leg away from his when his hand moved to lay on it, turning and instantly finding your belongings scattered around the floor of his bedroom. "Um, yeah, so, as for prom and Chrissy - I think it's cute. You should ask her, she'd be stupid to say no."

Eddie watched you tug your shoes on in haste, sitting up, "Hey, slow down, speed racer, I'll drive you - "

"No, it's cool," you assured swiftly, tugging your jacket on to combat the chill of the spring night. "I need the exercise."

Eddie scoffed, "I'm not letting you walk."

"I don't want a ride, Eddie," your voice took on an uncharacteristic hardened tick, something you've never had to use with Eddie. But you couldn't help it, your chest was caving in and lungs burning the longer you stayed there. "I just wanna walk for a bit, clear my head before homework, okay?"

He nodded slowly, "You sure, doll?"

"Positive."

Eddie frowned when your bag was tugged up your shoulder, turning from his room and jumping when he called, "Wait!"

Praying to God he was going to tell you he changed his mind and he wanted to ask you to prom - not Chrissy - you turned to look back to him. But he only pouted, "Don't leave without sayin' goodbye, sweetheart, c'mere."

Fearing the wet sensation coating your throat, you just backed up to the door and blindly reached for the doorknob, "You'll see me later, Eds. I've gotta go."

"Call me when you get home?" He asked, standing from his bed when you pulled his bedroom door open and moved out into the hall of his trailer. "Hey, hey, honey, what's the rush?" Eddie called, jogging a couple steps to follow after you.

"Just gotta go, Eds," you couldn't face him. But something tickled your throat and nose, prompting you to ask, "Um, do you have any tissues?"

He nodded, watching you pause by the front door before turning for the bathroom. A moment later, he returned with a box and handed it over, "Take it. I'm sure your allergies are acting up."

You nodded, "Thanks."

"Wait - "

But you were out the door and surging down the steps of his 'porch', turning on the gravel and making for the main road. Eddie watched you go from his front door, worrying over whatever he'd said, but after wracking his mind, he couldn't understand. He didn't need to know your chest was so painful, you debated if you were having a heart attack at 18; making you desperate to get away from him if it meant the pain would lessen.

You cried the whole walk home. The 8-minute car ride was actually a 41 minute walk due to the tightness in your chest, the tissue box tight in your hand as your lungs started to itch, burn, constrict themselves.

The coughing started that night. The entire walk, you used tissue after tissue to cough into and would ignore the flecks of color present against the soft white, shoving them down into your bag.

When you arrived home, the house was, as usual, empty. Steve Harrington used to hang out a lot with you due to how often both of your parents are out of town but once he started dating Nancy Wheeler, all visits stopped. Granted they were broken up now, he still didn't come back, and you were forced to get used to the loneliness. It left room for Eddie to slide into his place, often coming over to keep you company as being home alone for so long often made you nervous.

Eddie hated you feeling nervous, so, he had a couple of shirts and pants at your house for him to change into when he stayed the night. Now that he was going to make a move on Chrissy Cunningham, it made you think there wouldn't ever be other sleepovers. You worried he would never come back to your home, and an ice pick was conjured to stab through my heart.

In your room, you tossed your bag to your bed and groaned when it bounced off and spilled the contents over the floor. Shaking your head, you coughed a couple more times and got ready for bed; but soon, the coughing turned violent.

Kneeling over, your throat burned with crushing pain as your chest felt too tight with pressing tension. The heaviness was back, sitting right on your sternum and causing a twisting discomfort when you hurled into the toilet bowl. However, when your watery eyes opened, they were staring straight into clear water that was peppered with tiny little florals with swirls of bright red blood.

Panting in shock, confusion inked into your mind as you stood shakily to your feet and rushed for your bag again, pushing through the belongings to find the used tissues. Panic swelled in your chest when the tissues found, too, were coated in petals and blood.

"What?" you whispered to yourself, fear taking over. However, instead of doing the rational thing, like go to the hospital, you just threw the tissues away, flushed the rest, and curled up in bed out of exhaustion and draining adrenaline. Sobs wracked your lungs, making your body convulse and for the coughing to get worse.

You didn't move all weekend. You couldn't, for the pain was too great in your heart, mind, and body. Even when the phone rang multiple times through those two days, you couldn't care enough to get out of bed and answer it to see whatever was wanted from you. When the next Monday came around, you forced yourself to get in the shower and wake up from the cold water; getting dressed and heading out the front door to spy Eddie's van at the base of your driveway.

You sighed and made sure there were extra tissues in your bag as you made for his passenger door. When you hopped in, you were greeted with a glare.

"How was the essay?" he grits.

"Fine," you sighed, knowing it was a lie to make your swift escape, and leaned your arm on the door to prop your head up and stare out the window.

"Mhm. Thanks for letting me know you got home safe," he snipped. "Not like I was driving around at 1 am to make sure you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere."

You nodded slowly, "I forgot, I-I'm sorry."

"You forgot?" he repeated before scoffing. But when he glanced over and noted the heavy bags under your distant (watery) eyes, he frowned, "Hey? Y-You okay?"

"Mhm."

"Your nose is bleeding."

"Shit," you hissed, reaching for a tissue, and trying to mop up the blood from under both nostrils. "It's nothing," you tried to explain, sniffling a few times, and noting how sharp the action made your chest. Like something was stabbing through you, perhaps that ice pick again.

He shook his head, leering, "Suuuuure, mhm, okay." But when you didn't respond for another 3 minutes, he was annoyingly asking, "The hell's up with you?"

"Nothing, Eddie."

"Bullshit! You haven't looked at me once, didn't even greet me when you got in, and now you're sitting there, silent as the grave."

You only shrugged, not knowing how to put it in words, "Just tired, Eddie."

"Bullshit," he sighed. "But fine, if you don't want to talk, that's whatever. Just continue ignoring me, I guess."

Your eyes shut as you sighed, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"Why? What'd you do?"

Only shrugging, your head shook, and you sat up when you two made it to school. The moment the car stopped - not even in park - you were opening the passenger door and hopping out to take desperate gulps of fresh air. You waited a moment as Eddie got out, too, and just as his arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders to lead you into school, his attention was caught by someone else.

"Oh, there's Chrissy," he smiled, seeing the pretty cheerleader at her car. "Should I do it now?"

Gulping, you shrugged, "Do whatever makes you happy, Eds."

Eddie didn't understand what he did wrong to deserve your cold shoulder but figured he could talk to you later before making a beeline for Chrissy while you made for the front of the school. You ignored peers around you as you stuffed books and such into your locker, wheezing into a tissue when coughing took over.

A few other students paused to look at you with concern; you hand slamming to a closed locker as you couldn't draw breath in. The pain was suffocating, and the coughing made you nearly double over.

Robin paused at the sight, making her way over to you and just before she could ask if you were okay, she was gasping lightly. Looking up, you saw what caught her attention to spy Eddie Munson entering school with Chrissy Cunningham daintily hanging off his arm. Jason's glare was most prominent, but your best friend’s was much, much fiercer, and you? You had to look away because the ice pick was now hacking at your heart; palpitations making your chest throb with white-hot tension.

"Oh, no," Robin paused, glancing at you to see tears already in your eyes as your hands shook. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry - "

"Why?" You sniffled, shaking your head. "Doesn't matter, they look happy, right?"

"You don't," she whispered.

"Doesn't matter," you repeated. "I'll see you later, Rob."

She frowned as you charged away, watching you go as Eddie and Chrissy came to a halt beside her. "She say what was wrong with her?" Eddie asked the girl softly.

"No," Robin grit her teeth, offering him a stale up and down look. Though, she was slightly impressed Eddie bagged the popular cheerleader, she knew of your feelings for the metalhead, and huffed through her nose before taking off down the hall after you.

"Is everyone mad at me now?" He asked, looking down to the girl he'd successfully asked to prom.

"I'm not," Chrissy chirped with a soft smile.

So, here's the whole thing. Even though you've denied it for years, your friends knew DAMN well how in-love with Eddie you were. Robin had been the only one to really pick up on it a few years ago but kept quiet because of how close you and Eddie were. However, when you sat down for lunch, the Hellfire Club were ready to ask what was wrong when they saw their Dungeon Master enter the cafeteria with Chrissy.

They offered you looks of pity, understanding your behavior now.

Your hands started to shake, and you coughed harshly, bending at the waist to cough into a tissue half under the table. From beside you, Dustin caught a glimpse of pink and red in the tissue as your hand fisted over it and sniffled hotly. "Are you okay?" Gareth asked in concern, his wide eyes looking ready to shed tears. "You're sweating."

"Yeah," you whispered, catching sight of Eddie and Chrissy heading for your table. "Um, I-I forgot I have a test to make up in Spanish, so, I'll see you guys later, okay?" You rushed, picking up your untouched tray of food and shouldered your bag.

Before any of them could protest, you were tossing the tray and racing out of the opposite doors Chrissy and Eddie had come in through. You vaguely heard Eddie calling your name, never turning around, and shoving out of the doors.

You gasped when the fresh air hit you, not caring that you lied about some test and now headed down for the field. You didn't care if someone picked up on your lie. You didn't care about anything other than the crushing feeling in your chest; the way your lungs felt deflated, and how your throat was consistently wet from blood.

Robin had seen your abrupt departure and left Nancy Wheeler's side to follow you. When she found you under the bleachers, coughing and throwing up with tears down your cheeks, she knew something was wrong. Robin crawled under the bleachers, not caring about the trash or debris left, to reach your side and hold your hair back.

"Oh, my God," she wobbled, catching sight of the puddle under you. "W-What the hell is that?"

You panted, a string of blood hanging from your lips before falling to the saliva beneath you. "I-I think... I think something's wrong, Robin."

"No shit!" She hissed. "Let me take you to the nurse - "

"No, it's fine," you insisted, using another tissue to wipe at the blood under your nose. "I uh... I think I know what's going on."

"What?"

"We'll need to go to the library first," you nodded before shaking your head. "No, never mind, y-you should go back to class."

"Nope," she insisted. "I'll go to the library with you. Want me to call Steve? Get us a ride?"

You sniffled and nodded, tugging your bent knees into your chest as she nodded and begged you to stay put before dashing for the outside payphone. She felt anger as her eyes cast through the glass windows of the cafeteria, catching sight of Chrissy and Eddie laughing away with the rest of the Hellfire Club. Her fingers roughly punched in Steve's number and insisted he come pick you and her up. "Right fucking now, dingus!"

About 9 minutes later, Eddie had glanced out of the windows and caught the distance sight of Robin holding you in her arms and walking you (slowly) to Steve Harrington's trademark BMW.

His brows furrowed in confusion and concern before Chrissy's sweet voice was distracting him. In fact, he might've let himself get swept up in the sweetness of Chrissy - that he forgot you. The girl he's wanted since middle school was finally in his grasp but in order to do that, he had to let you go - resulting in cherry blossoms to sprout in your lungs.

The moment he made up his mind about Chrissy was the moment your fate was sealed. And after a trip to the library with Steve and Robin, you had your answer as to what was going on. It didn't make sense, but you understood there were three options for you at this point.

Option One: die. Literally, that was it. Let this disease kill you. Okay, then Option Two: get Eddie to love you back... And that was seemingly farfetched and way out of asking range. Third Option was to undergo a surgery, but according to literature, choosing this surgery would save your life but erase Eddie Munson from your memory. It was the only way to stop the pain besides dying from it or make someone to fall in love with you.

But that wasn't real love, was it?

So, you checked the book out and Steve drove you home.

You thought you could handle things, after all, the book said it could be manageable. So, you soldiered on and played everything off the next Monday as if you had some head cold making you a bit off, and not literal florals blooming in your fucking lungs.

Eddie didn't question it because he was too excited to tell you that Chrissy had said yes. She said yes - to him! To prom! And she was going to wear red, his favorite color. He was so shocked, it made you want to weep a little because Eddie Munson seemed to be the only one (minus Jason Carver) to not understand how amazing Eddie Munson truly was...

Well, maybe the rest of the school body didn't understand either, but that was beside the point. Eddie was always too hard on himself and hearing how shocked and happy he was that Chrissy said yes, just made you honestly sad. He didn't even know how loved he was, making the self-deprivation very real. It was once upon time ago that your job was to help him out of those ruts, but now it would be Chrissy's responsibility.

You knew if he was yours, you wouldn't let a single day go by where he thought he was inadequate. But he wasn't yours, and now that he had Chrissy, you knew he never would be.

Your throat swelled and more petals were coughed into a tissue in your hand when you realized that you'd bought a prom dress (in case Eddie did ask you) about a month ago, and it, too, was red. Yet, he was going to match Chrissy and you'd wasted $150 on a pretty, silk dress... And new heels because your mother insisted you feel (and look) like a princess.

You tried to be excited and happy for him, but it was hard to when Eddie was enraptured with Chrissy. You coughed more in that week than when you had that terrible flu 2 years ago.

When that Friday rolled around, you were heading for his van (like usual), only to find him and Chrissy waiting on you.

"Hey," you greeted cautiously, smiling at the pretty girl you never really had a full conversation with.

"Hey," Eddie smiled - and you noted the lack of pet name. "Uh, you ready to go?"

"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, glancing at Chrissy again.

He understood your nonverbal question. "I'm thinking I'll drop you off at home first. Cool?" Eddie offered, looking at you as his arm snaked around Chris' waist.

Confusion warped into your voice, "Um, i-it's Friday?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"I-I thought we hung out on Fridays? Like, every Friday?"

Eddie's other hand rose to rub the back of his neck, "Well, yeah, usually, but I'm taking Chrissy out on a date, so, I'll have to drop you off first."

"Oh," your eyes widened, and you felt so fucking stupid in that moment. "Shit, okay, my bad," you backed away, "I can get another ride, it's no big deal. Have fun on your date!"

"Hey, no, don't be ridiculous," Eddie shook his head, taking a tentative step forward as if he was nervous to leave Chrissy's side and approach you. "I take you home every day, c'mon. It's nothing, get in the van. I always take you home."

But you felt sick over the petty idea of sitting in the back while Chrissy took your seat in Eddie's car... Your place in Eddie's life.

Your head shook and a half-smile was forced over your lips. "No, it's seriously okay. You guys should go, it's cool. Have fun, okay?"

Eddie frowned, "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

"Sure," you whispered, turning finally, and hustling your steps back for the school. Your hand balled in a fist to catch the splatter of blood and petals that shot out of your mouth, trying to shake the sick off so nobody would notice.

Light pink petals danced to the pavement behind you, and your heart plummeted with it as Eddie's van tires squealed when he peeled out of the carpark.

Robin was still at school and agreed to give you a ride home with Steve and Dustin Henderson; the two sharing looks of concern for you the entire drive. They kept asking if they could do anything, but the truth was, they could see the life slowly draining from you, and knew they couldn't do anything.

You didn't answer Eddie's call that night. You didn't let him drive you to school, either, since he'd been busy with Chris that all your conversations now revolved around the girl. This didn't mean he didn't come pick you up, but you usually always opted for the bus to "catch up on reading." You didn't hang out on Fridays either, because it was "date night with Chrissy", and you didn't sit at the Hellfire Club table at lunch.

It went on like this for another three weeks. Eddie replaced you with Chrissy, and she was everywhere you looked. You stopped going to lunch all together in an effort to save yourself from the sight of Eddie's arm around the pretty, popular cheerleader; instead, coughing out cherry blossoms under the bleachers and then forcing a smile on your lips like nothing happened.

The time you did spend together (a minuscule amount of time in comparison), Eddie would fill the space between you with chatter about how amazing Chrissy was - unaware of the pain he was causing you.

Unaware that every word strangled air and rational thought from you.

Unaware that you often held your breath to save you from the pain; to save you from bursting into tears; to save you from yelling at your best friend that you didn't care he finally bagged his crush.

Eddie was going mad, however. He didn't understand your distance, but he also didn't do anything to rectify the situation. He just figured you were going through something, and you'd show up at his trailer soon; tears down your cheeks as his arms open to welcome you.

He started to count the day since he last touched you. Eddie began to feel as if maybe he'd done the right thing by choosing Chrissy due to how far you pulled away from him. He's loved you for years but never admitted or confronted the feelings; so, he convinced himself to let you go in pursuit of Chrissy. So, to save himself from rejection of the most important person in his life, he thought it was a "safer rejection" by asking Chrissy.

He was just shocked she accepted, though he had a sneaking suspicion it was just to piss Jason off. Eddie didn't mind being her distraction because Chrissy was his distraction from you.

When the week of prom rolled around, you couldn't get out of bed because you were in excruciating pain in your heart and mind. Your mother had left on another business trip and only left a stack of cash for "emergencies", telling you she loved you, and never noticing your overflowing waste bin of bloody tissues. So, when Eddie rolled up that Monday, he was confused when you didn't come outside for a few minutes. He beeped, waited longer, beeped again - louder - before confusion troubled his heart.

He knew you were upset and distant, he knew you "liked" riding the bus now; but he also knew you weren't out of your house, yet. He planned on showing up earlier than the time you left, because he wanted to ensure you drove to school together - like usual.

Eddie got out of his van and approached your door, knocking repeatedly but never receiving an answer.

When he got to school, Chrissy told him to call your house and check on you - standing with him, as all he did was listen to the dial tone of a connecting call. You never answered.

At lunch, Eddie found Robin and asked her if she spoke to you at all this past weekend. She glared, "What? You didn't?"

"No," Eddie admitted, "I-I was with Chrissy the whole - "

Robin's eyes rolled and she stood abruptly, making Eddie take a step back. "Forgive me while I go vomit," Robin deadpanned, casting a single glare over his shoulder to the strawberry blonde before pushing past them both.

Eddie asked Hellfire what he'd done - but none of them had an answer. "She's not been looking well," Dustin mentioned. "Keeps coughing out blood."

"What?" Eddie asked, rigid with fear.

Dustin nodded slowly, "I don't think she knows I know, but Steve gave her a ride with us, and her tissues are all bloody."

"She's coughing out blood?" Gareth asked sadly, Dustin nodding. "That's not good, we should get her to a hospital."

"She won't go," Dustin frowned. "I heard Robin trying to convince her, but she keeps saying she's fine."

"She's not fine," Eddie growled.

"Obviously," Lucas rolled his eyes. "She's also not sat with us for weeks."

"She's been avoiding everyone," Jeff added sadly.

"Wonder why," Lucas sneered, casting a glare at his Dungeon Master.

"Am I supposed to know what you're insinuating, Sinclair?" Eddie snipped.

"Aren't you her best friend? Shouldn't you know that she's sick - instead of hearing it from Dustin?"

Eddie shrugged, "So, what? I haven't been able to track her every move. I've been busy - "

"With Chrissy," Dustin and Lucas chimed together; Lucas rolling his eyes before stabbing a green bean forcefully.

"We know," the Freshman 'all-star' basketball player rolled his eyes, pushing his tray away and glaring to the tabletop.

"What did I do?" Eddie asked, looking to his comrades with earnest confusion.

None of them answered because nobody knew what was really wrong. All your friends (including outside of Hellfire) felt concern fester because you were never forthcoming with problems. You never asked for help - it was something observed by others before they're offering you a hand. So, if you were going through something, they knew you'd handle it alone until you couldn't anymore and would confide in them.

Eddie grew increasingly frustrated as time went. For you, time was slower than ever, and you were forced to live through each painful retch and convulsion of your muscles. You laid in bed; a bloody projectile pattern splattered across your sheets; dotted with sticky, pretty petals.

The night of prom rolled around, and you were knelt in front of your toilet again. It had gotten worse; Dustin phoning you every day to update you on school, and unconsciously complaining about how much time Eddie and Chrissy were spending - causing a riff in the group. You tried to assure the Freshman that it was a new and exciting relationship for them both, but Dustin voiced his concerns after spying Chrissy speaking with her ex, Jason Carver.

The vomiting got worse after Dusty's phone call. Acid burned your nose and your throat wept for relief; finding only more pain as the toilet bowl before you decorated with not just your blood, but actual buds of flowers. You knew naturally that cherry blossoms didn't have thorns, but there, before you, were floating pieces of your flesh that was cut from the sharp floral.

You sobbed the whole night. Your chest was ready to cave in and the vomiting, nor pain, wouldn't stop. You wondered if this was how it ended for you - alone, on prom night, coughing out blood while the rest of the town got their romantic night.

Fuckers, you thought bitterly.

But then - the weirdest fucking thing happened. Amid vomiting more buds and thorns, your chest started to feel a little clearer and you could cough the rattling wetness from your lungs. There was just slight relief, but enough for you to draw in harsh breaths. You panted and spat out another bloom, trying to ignore how oddly poetically beautiful this was - to die by a fucking flower strangling you. Your body was thinner in the weeks since your turmoil started, throat too raw to pass any food as your lungs were stuffed with petals. It made living harder.

It made getting out of bed physically impossible.

It made your feet numb.

Your chest to ache.

Your head to throb.

And your stomach to knot itself.

Sweat pooled over your brow and your hand rose to wipe at your nose, smearing blood over your cheek. More vomiting. More pain. More petals and blooms and thorns and blood.

It felt like it'd never end but that was the most justice you had - that this would kill you because you couldn't let go of the love you had for Edward Munson. Love that would last a lifetime - or until it killed you.

Seemed like a fate closer than graduation.

You were startled when knuckles began rapping on your window as another violent purge overtook you. Shaking and sobbing, you ignored whoever had climbed up to your window because you were so focused on keeping your hair back as you purged.

The rapping turned into full-on pounding; the glass pane shaking.

The blossoms were bigger now. Thicker. Small, wee little stems on them that only added to your pain. Petals were left behind on your tongue and sticking to your cheeks; throat bleeding into your stomach from the way thorns shredded it up and down.

"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart," you recognized Eddie's voice over the sounds of your retching. "Oh, my God, my sweet girl. Shit, you're okay, you're okay, I got you," he assured quietly, taking your hair in his hands to hold back as another wave racked through your body. "You're okay, let it out," he soothed, sitting on the lip of the bathtub, and rubbing your back.

You sniffled and spat the remaining petals from your mouth, using your arms to cover the toilet bowl and block his sight. "W-What're you doing here?" You asked through a thick tongue.

"Your window was open, I let myself in." He reached out for the toilet paper and pulled a bit off, gingerly reaching up and wiping the blood from your lips. "A-Are those petals?" He asked in shock, looking at the toilet tissue.

"Why're you here, Eddie?" You asked again, turning to close the toilet lid and rest your head on it. The cool porcelain felt nice on your feverish skin.

"Where else would I want to be?"

You scoffed, "Just fuck off back to Chrissy, I know that's where you want to be."

It was quiet as sweat dried on your skin and created a new cooling sensation across your tired muscles. "Why're you throwing up blood and petals?"

"Why are you here?" You snapped, lifting your head to glare at him. "If I wanted you around, I would've called."

"Haven't called me in weeks."

"Then maybe I don't want you around. Just go - get out," you grit, turning away from him again. "This is hard enough without you fucking here. Get out."

It was quiet as Eddie didn't move, your chest rattling with every labored breath to make it sound like a wheeze. It caused a new wave of violent coughing, Eddie's eyes widening when you appeared to choke on something in your throat, toilet lid lifted as your fingers crammed in the back of your throat.

From this position, Eddie could make out the blood and blooms floating in the water, flinching when you threw up blood - a sight he'd never wanted to see again. Thorns cut your mouth and lips, making you whimper in sheer pain as your chest was ready to cave in finally. Sweat coated your skin again, and Eddie refused to leave your side. He watched you as your body shook with each retch; how the color of blood stained your lips like expensive make-up.

When you panted and threw yourself back to the wall behind you, Eddie reached out and started to wipe blood from your nose, mouth, chin, and cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Tell you what?" You wheezed.

"That you were sick."

You scoffed, "Would it have mattered? You're too busy with Chrissy."

He shook his head, "We broke up."

Now this - this shocked you. Your brows furrowed, "It's prom night."

"Mhm."

"All you wanted was to go to that stupid fucking dance with her," you pointed out with a glare.

Eddie nodded, "I thought so, too. Until we got there, and I realized that I was with the wrong girl... I thought I wanted to be with her, she was unobtainable and has been my crush for years..."

"Guessing the real thing didn't compare with your imagination?" You sneered, rolling your eyes. "Big fucking deal, Eddie - "

"No, no, I uh... I just, we got there, and I wanted it to be you."

Something in your chest twisted.

"That's not funny," your eyes rolled again.

"I'm not joking. I wanted to be with you all night - hell, every day of the past few weeks that you've been avoiding me, I just wanted to be with you. Why did you pull away from me? Was it that shitty to see me and Chris together?"

You admitted, "Yes."

"What?"

You chuckled dryly, "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

And there it was... "Yeah," You whispered, "love me like a best friend, right - " Only, the words were gargled as you leaned forward and puked violently.

"No, sweetheart," Eddie frowned, holding your hair again. "Shit, this isn't good, baby, we need to get you to a hospital."

"No," You groaned into the bowl.

"Please," he begged, other hand coming to soothe up and down your back. "You're in pain, and - "

"It doesn't matter, Eddie," you coughed again, sticking your tongue out to pick a few petals off. They fell to the water, a sightly morbidly beautiful image as thick blood swirled.

"It does matter! To me, it does!"

"Why!?"

"Because - Jesus Christ!" He raged, anger finally morphing over his expression. "I'm in love with you, God damn it!"

Your brows furrowed, bottom lip trembling, "W-What?"

He shook his head, "You really don't know?"

"Know WHAT?" You felt anger swell in your stomach. "That I've spent the past however many years thinking I was only good enough to be your friend, and now you're telling me you're in love with me? What? Did Chrissy stand you up? You need a rebound?"

He sighed, nudging you over an inch to slide down the wall into the space between you and the bathtub. You both stared forward, a light splattering of blood across the pale porcelain you stared at.

"I was the one who left her," he admitted with a sigh. "I just... We got to the first dance, and I just hated myself, because all I wanted - for the last few weeks, too - has been to have you in my arms, again. I've missed you more than anything."

You shook your head, "You've wanted Chrissy - "

"She was a want, doll," he whispered. "But I realized tonight that you're a need. I need you in my life, baby, please believe me. Look, I-I got caught up in the excitement of dating Chrissy, but she knew my heart wasn't 100% in it, and told me it was okay."

"Ch-Chrissy told you to leave?"

"She told me to run to you and not let go when I had you in my arms," he nodded, looking down at me now. "She knew the whole time... I couldn't stand being away from you, not talking to you, so she offered to help distract me until I bucked up the nerve."

"Nerve to what?"

"Ask you to be mine," he smiled softly. "Look, I know, I've had this thing for Chris, and when I finally had her, I just didn't know what to do. But she knew the whole time, and insisted I come find you."

"Oh," you breathed, chest tight for a new reason.

"And I realized I was at prom with the wrong woman," he nodded, gingerly reaching his hand out to stroke over mine. I sniffled and turned my hand over to lace our fingers together, leaning into his shoulder. "Not seeing you there, I felt worse than ever before. I couldn't admit I was in love with you - I was scared we'd lose this. Our friendship, we'd lose the comfort and protection."

Tears swelled in your eyes as you squeezed them shut; a few tears rolling sadly down your cheeks. "You don't mean that..."

"How can you say that?" He asked incredulously.

"Because you just feel bad," you whimpered. "It's okay, Eddie. I'm okay - you don't have to do this. It doesn't matter - "

"Anything regarding you, to me, definitely matters. Why're you so against this - against us?"

"Because it's not real," you sniffled. "You've been in love with - "

"Please, please, go ask Chrissy yourself," Eddie begged, shaking his head. "She'll tell you - go ask Dustin, Garth, Jeff - anyone, baby. Please. I'm in love with you, and I need you to believe it."

"Why now?"

"Why what?"

"Why tell me now?"

He chuckled, "Because I hoped there was enough time to get here and take the girl of my dreams to prom."

"You don't even like prom. Or any social gathering, for that matter."

He chuckled, "Yeah, very true, but you're everything to me and I know you wanted to go. Remember last year?" You sighed, soft smile stretching across your face. "You were so excited that I made you that pact that if neither of us had a date, we'd go together." You nodded against his shoulder. "And I just thought... I thought other guys wanted to take you, and you'd want to go with them more sine they could give you the full 'prom experience'. So, I panicked and focused on Chrissy..."

You sighed, "I wish you told me the truth... And that you'd have just asked me properly."

"I regret nothing more," he sighed. "Because it made you feel left out and neglected."

You nodded, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

The old nickname from 10th grade made heat pool in your chest, cheeks, and ears; feeling flustered as you whispered, "I'm in love with you, too."

"Yeah?" He chuckled.

"Mhm."

He sighed, "Oh, thank God."

You couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "What?"

He looked down at you with a grin, "Been waiting years to hear that."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Since I decked Carver in the face, yeah," he breathed. "Just wanted to pull you into my arms and tell you how much I loved you."

"Maybe if you did, we could've had more time together."

"We have all the time in the world now, baby," he beamed. "'Cause I'm not letting you go - hear me? You're mine, and I'm not letting go."

You smiled and leaned up so you could rest your forehead on his, "I don't want you to let go."

"I'll hold on forever, baby," he whispered. "But I have something important to ask you..."

"Hmm?"

"Think you're feeling up for a dance with me?"

You chuckled and nodded, "Uh, maybe one. Do we have to go to the school?"

"Nope, not if you don't want to."

You paused for a moment, asking shyly, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

"Would you go to prom with me?"

Eddie chuckled, "You're throwing up blood, baby, I think I should take you to the hospital instead. C'mon, instead of a prom dress, I'll dance with you in a hospital gown."

You couldn't help but giggle under your breath. "Come with me, I need to show you something," you sighed after, reaching forward to flush the blood and petals before standing up. With his hand in yours, you lead him from the bathroom and to your room, sitting on the bed and placing a book in his lap.

"What am I looking at?"

"Just... Read this page," you pointed to the paragraph you wanted him to read; taking the spot beside him and leaning to his shoulder again as he scanned the page quickly.

"Holy shit," he breathed at the end, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "Doll, no, no, no. I-I did this to you?"

"I did it to myself," you whispered.

"B-But I've been in love with you, too? So, how did this happen?"

"Neither of us admitted it to ourselves. At least for me, it was until the night you told me you were thinking of asking Chrissy out."

"For me, it was until tonight," he realized with a whisper. "I-I told Chrissy I loved you, an-and it was the first time I admitted it..."

You nodded, "Yeah... So, uh... Yeah."

"Fuck," he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know it hurt you this bad. Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you didn't deserve that. I'm so sorry."

"But it's over now, right?" you asked quietly.

"Yeah, baby, it's all over," he nodded, tossing the library book aside to turn and wrap you in his arms. He whined lightly and tugged so you were straddled in his lap, running a hand through your hair. "Oh, my sweet girl, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the pain."

"You're here now," You whispered into his neck, fingers twirling a strand of his hair as your other hand clung to his neck. "That's all I care about."

"I'm never leaving you again," he swore, arms tight around my waist to drag me all the closer. "I'm so sorry, peaches, I-I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay," you promised, sniffling after. "I could've spoken up, too, but I was ashamed. I didn't want to ruin anything between you and Chrissy."

"Promise me, you'll tell me from now on. Okay? I don't care what's happening or where you and I stand - you fucking tell me if something's going on with you, okay?"

You nodded, sniffling lightly, "Yeah, okay, baby, deal."

"Hey," he cooed, pulling me from his neck. His hand reached up to caress the side of my cheek, "I love you, pretty girl."

The smile on your lips felt silly, but you replied, "I love you, too, baby."

"Can I kiss you? Please?" He pouted, making you chuckle lightly before reaching for his cheek and bringing him in to meet your lips. He groaned in relief, hands tightly over your ribs before sliding to your back as his tongue poked against your lips, sweeping into your mouth in a slick dance. You whined lightly, Eddie making a noise of surprise as he pulled back, a string of saliva trailing between your lips.

Your brows furrowed as he reached up and picked something from his tongue; a light pink cherry blossom petal stuck between his pointer and thumb. "Oh, my God," you wheezed, leaning forward to rest against his chest and push your face into his neck. "I'm so sorry."

He chuckled and let the petal flutter to the ground, "Kinda hot."

"Eddie," you whined.

"I'm sorry, baby," he chuckled, pecking the side of my head. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, much better now, honestly. Having you here helps."

He pulled back to grin brightly at you, "Wanna go to prom then?"

You sighed lightly, gazing down at him in his suit and smiling lightly when you pressed over his red shirt. "Did you match Chrissy?"

He sighed, "She ended up choosing a green dress. Thought red was more my color," he smirked lightly. "But I can't lie, we looked like human Christmas."

You snorted in humor. "Red's definitely your color," you agreed, glancing back at your closet before back at him. "Um, wanna give me a few minutes? We can leave after?"

"Take as much time as you need, peaches," he nodded, leaning in with another smile to press his lips to your own. He chuckled a few times, pecking his lips rapidly before pulling away.

Within an hour, your hair was fixed off your neck; make-up minimal but still noticeable; and red dress shimmied up your body to then tie over your shoulders. Lacing your shoes on, you looked in the mirror before exiting your room and descending the stairs to find Eddie hunched over a counter, working in the kitchen on something.

You cleared your throat as your fingers fiddled together nervously when Eddie turned, and you swear time stopped. "Shit," he breathed, eyes weeping you up and down. "Oh, my... God."

"Yeah?" you asked, looking over the red material.

"Oh, hell yeah," he nodded, slowly approaching you. "You look beautiful, peaches, wow... Shit."

"You've said that," you teased. "Whatcha makin' over there?"

He smirked and picked up a flower from the counter, turning and taking your wrist. "My girl needs a corsage," he explained, showing off the flower he'd clipped from an old bouquet and then fashioned with a rubber band and safety pin. "There," he smiled when it was settled, "now you're ready for senior prom, huh?"

You nodded, hands placed to his chest as you smoothed out a few wrinkles, "You look unbelievably good right now."

He chuckled, "Look who's talkin'. Givin' Bo Derek a run for her money, aren't you? God damn."

You couldn't help the bright grin across your face, stepping into his embrace. "I love you," you whispered.

"I don't think I'll get tired to hearing that," he beamed, pecking your lips after. "I love you, too, baby - so much. And I'm so sorry it took me this long to admit it. You didn't deserve anything you suffered through..."

"It's done now," you nodded.

"And we're never going back," his hands rose to caress either of my cheeks. "Now - wanna go rock this prom?"

"Smoke up your van after?"

"You know it, princess," he grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. "My lady," he smirked teasingly, offering his bent arm.

"My lord," you breathed, arm around his, and chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks months. Maybe things would be okay and they could work out, but for now, it was refreshing to live in the moment with Eddie. Your partner in crime. Your other half. Your best friend, and now your boyfriend. Someone you adored - and someone who adored you in full return.

Maybe love wasn't too bad after all - when it's not trying to suffocate you from the inside.

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on-leatheredwings · 25 days

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Checkmate

Yandere! Tim Drake / (AFAB) Reader

> romantic, rated M > tw/cw: yandere-typical behaviors (obsession). M rating is for a boner. just some sexual tension. reader is mentioned as bisexual.

> summary: Intellectually, Tim falls fast. Romantically, he falls hard. Seems this time it's both. > a/n: i just wanted to post some tim practice, pls let me know if i did okay. I made him a bit of a fuckboy i guess but ngl i think tim’s just run through af 😭 > word count: 1268

Tim likes you. And knowing himself, soon, he’s going to really like you.

More than anticipated, too. He didn’t think he’d have much of an opinion at all on you, when you had first met on your first day, in your new position as his personal assistant.

Personal assistant.

At the reveal, he exchanged a hard look with Bruce across the room. Tim Drake had not been slacking on the job. And sometimes he had the eye bags to prove it.

Tim hadn’t even said anything yet, when you chirped, “Think of it as delegation.”

You gave him a pleasant, albeit cheeky look – which he respected. If you had the qualifications and enough charm to impress the hiring manager, who was a notorious hardass in interviews, you were probably fine. Probably more than fine.

Either way, he expected to forget your existence until you texted or called him to remind him about meetings he hadn’t forgotten about.

It turns out, you had… personality. Probably more than you should’ve, working in the professional setting of Wayne Enterprises. You dealt with Tim’s shit (absences, excuses), but gave as good as you got (ultimatums, thinly-veiled blackmail to run and tell Bruce). You were also… very attractive. And clever. And smart. And insightful.

And God, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. And he wonders if he can somehow orchestrate a breakup.

Tim moves a chess piece across the board.

Okay, maybe he’s being too hasty.

Oh, for the love of– you know what? No, he isn’t being too hasty. Anyone working in such close quarters with the heir apparent of Wayne Enterprises is heavily vetted. But it’s about time he did his own background check on you. He has made it three whole months without doing so.

See, he really is getting over his control issues. Eat that, Stephanie.

Okay, if he’s going to entertain the idea of courting you– Wait, wait, since when was it courting? Yeah, no. He’s merely entertaining the thought of you. He’s been burned too many times now to start courting.

Let’s talk about having sex first before we start talking about dating, he jests with himself.

Anyway. He wonders what would be the most interesting means of going about this. Coming out and confessing would be a little boring. Too easy. His eyes wander to your lips. You’re too focused on making your next move to notice him ogling the soft swell of your chest beneath a sharp button-up. You’ve rolled up the sleeves – very casual for this very casual hangout. You both lounge on your bed, in your bedroom, in your apartment, because if Tim wins, you don’t get to hound him on personally contacting investors. (Sometimes, you gotta leave malcontents out to dry. Make them miss you.)

He hopes you like being experimented with. Or maybe you like experimenting on others. He would do anything you liked because, man, it’s thrilling to know people and their wants. Anything you give, he could take it–

Tim startles as a realization comes to his mind.

… Him. Taking it.

Is that something he wants? To bottom for you? … Is that something… he wants?

Yes.

Now that the idea has been conceived, yes, he wants that. So that’s that.

The reality of whether you’d want to do that… is slim… maybe? You’re bi as well. Maybe that changes things. He’s not going to think about it too hard, because now he’s getting excited.

Tim would love for the skittering, synapses-firing-on-all-cylinders effect in his brain to cool down – for everything to wash over with cool calculation and academic interest. He manages to do that much for even the most intriguing cases. But you… Tim sighs.

And now he’s hard.

Tim shifts uncomfortably. He’s lying on his stomach, held up by his forearms.

He sighs, even though there’s an evil piece of his brain snickering and taunting, “But you love this, though!” Evil, evil.

At Tim’s increasing silence, you lift a brow. Man, he’s been out of it all game.

“Tim?” He comes back to planet Earth. “It’s your move. Again.” You wear a Cheshire grin. “It’s almost like we’re taking turns, or something.”

He blinks, baby blue eyes clearing up. He shifts in his spot, feeling trills of pleasure from friction against erection. Your sheets. Against his erection. He bites back a smile. Okay, yes, he loves this. He likes hiding like this, right under your nose.

Him getting a boner was a development he had foreseen coming ten minutes ago, once he started daydreaming about you. So he just went ahead and casually switched positions. A risk, but a calculated one. He was pretty sure there’d be no reason for him to get up and expose the tent in his jeans. And boy does he love it when he’s right.

Tim goes to move another piece, when he glances up at you and nearly goes slack-jawed. You don’t meet his eyes. Instead, you wet your lips, seemingly meditating on something.

You meditate on him. After all, Tim is so… pretty. Pretty in a way unlike the rest of his gorgeous brothers. He has pretty eyes framed by dark lashes and a smaller frame, though he’s deceptively muscled under the clean-cut slacks and button ups. He has silky black hair that often falls into his eyes; a defined jaw. And pale skin. He is notably the palest in his family, burning miserably on beach days. It is that pale skin, contrasted so sharply with his dark green tee, that brings your eyes to his collarbones.

Tim nearly erupts.

Fuck, yes. He caught you staring. It takes him self-restraint not to puff out his chest or try to show more skin, lest he reveal his hard-on.

You snap out of it only moments after he notices, grin returning to your face.

“You know if you lose focus like that, I’m going to win,” you tease, almost childlike mischief in your expression.

Tim so badly wants to parrot the words back at you, but he doesn’t want to scare you into never checking him out ever again. The little inch you just gave him– oh, he intends to take a mile. Whatever small acquiesces you give in the future, he knows he’ll take that and much more.

Now, he’s hungry for you. As soon as this game is done, he’s going to create a new case study file, just for you. He could start kicking his feet at the thought, he's that excited. He’s excited!

He’ll put the pedestrian, basic stuff like your height, weight, alma mater, major, past jobs and experiences. Somehow get into your social media that’s all on private mode to see what you’re always laughing at on that damn phone. He’s also going to bring up your phone records, go through your email, go through your physical mail. Oh, fuck, surveillance. He’s already in your room, too, luckily. If only he had more of his bugs on hand… The ones he always keeps in his belt buckle will do for now. Also, Tim needs to think of some way to acquire your breast, waist, and hip size – he has a good idea of those measurements, but he wants to know. When is the next time you’ll be out of the house and not at work, he wonders–

“Tim,” you whine, impatient. The sound is music to his ears.

Tim’s eyes rise from the board to your pouting face, and he smiles apologetically. Suddenly, your face dawns with disbelief and indignance.

Tim swiftly picks up one last piece and knocks one yours over.

“Checkmate.”

#yandere tim drake #yandere batfam #tim drake x reader #tim drake #yandere tim drake x reader #mine #this was so hard but i feel much better about writing him #TuT wow feels like forever since i posted anything

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petbrain · 4 months

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you call it "being the mom of the friend group" i call it "livestock dog behavior"

#confessions of the hound #otherkin #therian #alterhuman #therianthropy #otherkinity #nonhuman #dog therian #canine kin #dogkin

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tootiecakes234 · 7 months

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Katsuki sucks at feelings, this we all know.

Katsuki who you start to talk to more outside of class

Katsuki, the person you start spending a lot of your free time with

Katsuki, the guy you soon realize you have a huge crush on…. And maybe just maybe he’s crushing on you too

Katsuki who you one day over hear telling Kiri and and Denki that he doesn’t like you and that he doesn’t even find you attractive.

Katsuki who seems confused over the next few days as to why you aren’t talking to him and distancing yourself

Katsuki who confronts you about it because he has 0 issues calling your BS

Katsuki who freezes when you told him what you heard

Katsuki who tries to explain that he was just tired of his friends hounding him over you and he didn’t mean any of it

Katsuki who after fumbling over all of his words and making a complete ass out of himself ends up confessing his feelings for you

Katsuki who you end up forgiving(cuz be fr you’re gonna fold for that man)

Katsuki who is now your bf and tells everyone that has a smart comment about you and him to go to hell.

#bakugou drabble #bakugou x reader #imagine #katsuki bakugo mha #mha fanfiction #bakugo headcanons #bakugou katsuki x reader #drabble #fluff #mha angst #angst

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joy-laufeyson · 11 months

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Roronoa Zoro fics recommendations

(Reader inserts) Recommendations of my favorite headcanons/imagines/fics/scenarios (I don’t own any)

・・・・・・

nsfw / if Zoro drank an aphrodisiac (part 1)

nsfw fluff / aftercare (part 2)

angst fluff / just a bit jealous

fluff / onigiris

fluff nsfw / flower field date

fluff / laundry day

fluff / banana thief

fluff / attention

fluff nsfw / the waiting game

fluff / a midnight encounter

fluff / weight comfort

sfw / summer rain

angst fluff / lullaby

fluff / alone

fluff / acts of intimacy

fluff / nuzzling up his partner’s soft tummy

fluff / as the sun sets

angst fluff / forgiveness is a fickle thing

angst fluff / one of those days

angst nsfw / stitches

angst / earrings

sfw / imagine

sfw / habits

sfw / childs play

fluff / getting up late

fluff / let me help you fall asleep

fluff nsfw / receiving

fluff / the man

fluff / confession

fluff / drunk in love

fluff / lost

fluff / softness

fluff / babysitters

sfw / lashes

angst fluff / scars

fluff / sweet dreams

fluff / oposites

fluff / better late than never

sfw / the one that (almost) got away

fluff / laying your head on his chest

angst fluff / reaction to his crush getting injured

fluf / "kiss me"

fluff / "i’ve always thought you were th’prettiest person around”

fluff / "what are you doing to me?"

fluff / new genesis

sfw / blooming sakura

angst fluff / new wounds

angst fluff / nightmare

fluff / for your love

fluff / beach day

angst fluff / fever dream

fluff / wherever you are

fluff / "missed you"

fluff / falling in love

fluff / "I'll just stay behind"

angst fluff / saving you from drowning

sfw / fox and hound

angst fluff / boozey recovery

sfw / two people one mind

sfw / sword skills

fluff / gentleman

fluff / "I am your wife"

fluff / loves to make you laugh

fluff / letting his guard down

fluff / birthday secret

fluff / milestones

fluff / "I told the stars about you"

angst / walls (part 1)

fluff / smooches

sfw / how much he loves you

fluff / mean mugging

fluff / clingy

fluff / pillow talk

angst fluff / slip and fall

fluff / makeout session

fluff / catching up

fluff / the sparrow and the hunter

fluff / wait for me

fluff nsfw / pumpkin

nsfw / breaking point

・・・・・・

Updated:16-March-2024

Live Action Zoro masterlist

Other One Piece fics

Feeling that I'll reach 100 links soon, so probably gonna end up making a part 2 of this post

#one piece masterlist #one piece imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro imagine #zoro headcanons #one piece live action x reader #zoro live action x reader #Roronoa Zoro live action x reader #opla x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla Roronoa Zoro x reader

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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

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Please go out with me for tax benefits!

— When you randomly pointed to a handsome man and declared him to be your boyfriend, you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just wanted a couples discount!

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 2: Overdue Bills [Masterlist]

This was originally written for my upcoming "Help me break my engagement by marrying me instead." fic but I got carried away and it became too plot-heavy. So I made a new one. Most of these have nothing to do with money, I just thought the title was funny.

Alhaitham

You blame Kaveh for this. This is entirely his fault and you will not be convinced otherwise. If he hadn't opened his big mouth to Alhaitham about the fact you've been spouting that he was your boyfriend, then you wouldn't be in this mess. It wasn't even that serious, it's not like you were actually emotionally invested with the man and this was all a delusional dream. You barely knew the guy aside from the multiple rumors about him in the first place. You just needed to access some limited-edition books for your thesis and his name happened to be the easiest way to get ahold of them. Sure, you may be lying to authority for the better half of a year about your relationship with the scribe, but it's not your fault they didn't ask questions. If you happened to threaten to tell your very scary and very influential "boyfriend" about this "mistreatment", that's just a byproduct if anything. But now you have a very irritated silver-haired man crowding into your personal space asking why the hell you're announcing to the world that you're both in a relationship. It's creepy. He called you creepy. Is this where you roll over and die in shame?

You swear you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just happened to spot him in the background while the librarian was giving you a hard time and your dumb brain-to-mouth filter was taking a break that day. So you just blurted that you were Alhaitham's partner and that he would be very upset to hear that you were being treated this way. It's not completely far-fetched, Alhaitham seems like a very, very, private person and on the off chance you were telling the truth? Well, the poor librarian didn't want to lose her job. Besides, it's not like you were planning on doing anything illegal and you don't think you're the absolute worst person to be fake-dating.

By some stroke of luck, or maybe he felt too much pity for you, Alhaitham decides to cut you a deal rather than get you kicked out of the Akademiya. He gets multiple love letters, confessions, and heart-eyed individuals trailing after him all the time. Frankly, he's getting tired of it and since you've already taken the liberty, he won't say anything if you don't say anything. Though he makes it clear that if you ever do anything embarrassing, you're taking the fall and he's going to pretend he doesn't know you. A bit harsh but that's only a safety net. Plus it's not like you actually want to date him so he wouldn't have any commitments. The added bonus is that since he's well-known for having a...rough personality, you don't need to act affectionately with the man or go the extra mile. As long as you have each other's backing, you'll get to check out any textbook you want for free and he gets to be left alone. So for both your benefits, to the rest of the Akademiya you and him are a couple.

You should have known this deal was way too good to be true. As soon as people hear that Alhaitham acknowledges that you're his partner, they're on you like rabid fungi. In comparison to the scribe, you're far easier to prod and poke for any gossip and your quiet day-to-day life is suddenly thrown into the wind. Multiple people a day come to bother you about what it's like to date the moody man. It gets to a point where you have to actually dress incognito just to go and get some coffee. Seriously, didn't people have deadlines and exams to prepare for then to hound you down to talk about your fake love life? Alhaitham is no help either, only shrugging off your complaints and telling you that this is what you agreed to.

He's a horrible partner, fake or not. This isn't your storybook romance where he suddenly falls in love with you, he straight up ignores you sometimes! If anything, this entire situation has stopped you from feeling intimidated by him. Before you wouldn't dare approach him, his appearance and body were enough for you to shy away. You're impulsive, not blind. Alhaitham is drop-dead gorgeous but now that you've reached such an absurd situation it stops intimidating you. You begin to regularly pester the man because you know that even though you're both not actually dating, it would look really bad if he shunned you constantly.

He actually doesn't mind you. Unlike Kaveh or anyone else who interacts with him, you know how to be quiet and independent. Most of the time you both sit in silence, the only noise between the two of you being the flipping of pages and the scratching of ink against paper. If you ever do speak, it's always with a purpose. It's just a bonus that while everyone stares at your table, no one ever approaches. If they need to speak with him, they see your body right next to him and they decide to come back at a later time when he's alone.

Over time, he finds himself seeking you out instead of the other way around. He's come to find your presence comforting and it's the only time when he can actually sit down and read. Being an observant person, he starts to notice your little habits. For one, touch seems to be how you interact with others. You always bump elbows whenever you greet him, pinching his half coat whenever you want to drag him to see whatever captured your attention, and nudging his arm with your hand whenever you need him to bend down so you can whisper something into his ear. He's honestly surprised and concerned that he doesn't push you away with your skinship. If it were anyone else, he would have sent them a sharp glare and pushed him off but he doesn't for you.

All things must come to an end eventually and you've finally finished writing the last sentences for your thesis. Your pat on the back is the firm shut of a book as a deep sigh escapes your lips. Tired but relieved. The goodbye is uneventful, you simply tell him that you don't need him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he's free to live out the single life. He just nods and with that, you're gone.

No one says anything when they notice that Alhaithem sits at a table alone for the nth time that week. There are a few whispers back and forth about how you either got fed up with this attitude or he realized that he was way out of your league. Either way, everyone assumes you and Alhaithem are no longer together and his routine before you arrived settles back in. Yet, he feels off. He refuses to call it longing, you both were hardly affectionate in the first place, but he feels a bit lonely without your presence beside him. it's been plaguing his mind ever since you packed your things and left. He's hardly been able to concentrate on his book, rereading the same sentence for the fourth time before snapping it shut. Letting out a deep sigh, he runs a hand through his hair before setting it against his closed eyes. What's gotten into him?

"Is this seat taken?"

His eyes shoot open, turning around to see you with an armful of books looking expectantly at him. You look nervous and he can't lie to himself that he doesn't find that just the slightest bit endearing. He can tell that you're struggling to carry all of them from the slight shake in your hands.

"I thought our deal was over?" he says this but he gets up anyways to take the books out of your hands and places them on the table. You just roll your eyes at him because of course that's what he would say first and push forward. You're probably the only one who would act so brazenly in front of him besides Kaveh but he doesn't find it irritating when you do it.

"What? So I need to be in a relationship with you just to sit at a table? I know your ego is big but not thattt big," you stretch your words as you settle comfortably into your seat.

He wonders when he started thinking of that specific chair as yours.

"No. I suppose not," he says with an exasperated smile as he sits back down. You beam back at him as you shuffle your chair closer to him as you open your textbook, your fingertips gave that familiar tug for him to lean in closer.

"Good, because I need some help with this section. I have no idea what the hell "bloom" is."

Ayato

Although Valentine's day was mostly celebrated in Mondstadt and Sumeru, Inazuma still liked to dabble in the festivities during the day of love. Various couples' discounts on tricolored Dango or limited edition books from the Yae Publishing House. There was one popular series in particular that was having a huge discount to celebrate the holiday and even though you weren't in the market for a partner, you weren't going to pass up on such a steal. Only for your excitement to fall flat when the lady informed you that the discount was for couples only.

You can't believe this. You just stood in line for hours only for them to tell you this now? What kind of shady place was this? Of course, they didn't advertise the specifics of this sale, they knew this book was popular. People waiting in line wouldn't just walk away once they found out and they would end up paying full price! Well, two can play this game. You randomly gesture off to the side, saying that your boyfriend was just standing off to the side because he wanted to grab some refreshments. You aren't really looking where you're pointing, too busy digging through your pouch and counting your coins of mora before a sharp gasp stops you. The lady quickly bows and beams at you with a mega-watt customer service smile. She hands the book to you free of charge while profusely thanking you for your patronage. You look off to the side but you don't see anyone, but you weren't going to say no, so you shrug and take it. A free book is a free book.

To be fair, you were making it really easy for the Archons to mess with you. You hear whispers around you that you can't make out, anytime you glance at passing people, they quickly bow and shuffle along. You have a horrible sinking feeling forming in the pit of your stomach and you quickly rush home so you can avoid whatever the hell you just caused. Unfortunately, word travels fast in Inazuma, and every shop you pass by you're being confronted left and right with sales pitches and gifts of appreciation for your partner's hard work. All of which you decline, half of it because you're not actually in a relationship and the other half because you have no interest in their gifts. But you've already dug yourself this far in your grave so you just give a hasty no thank you as you try and dodge everyone who looks at you with that glimmer in their eyes. Who did you point at to receive this much praise?

Ayato is greatly confused when people approach him to congratulate him on his engagement. He wasn't planning on getting married any time soon, his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner taking up most of this time. Did the elders set someone up for him without informing him first? He's curious about who his mystery person is but everyone he asks doesn't seem to know where they went. Apparently, his fiancee is shy but humble, declining gifts from various shopkeepers no matter how expensive they are.

That's until one of the children points in your direction and his eyes slide over to you who looks just as confused as him. He's never seen you in his life and you don't look like anyone from a significant clan. He gets clued in that you boldly announced your relationship with him when you were checking out a specific book meant for couples only. Ah, he's starting to understand now. He offers a piece of candy for the helpful information as he makes his way over to you. His mysterious fiancee.

As soon as the man in front of you says Lord Kamisato's name, the uneasy weight in your stomach drops. You quickly spin on your heel to see the pale blue hair and amused light purple eyes. Oh. Oh, Archon's above, please, out of everyone you could have pointed to, please don't make it be the Yashiro Commissioner. You're about to burn this book into ashes and do a ceremony to banish whatever youkai were stored within the pages if you manage to make it out of this alive.

If Ayato was upset about this situation he's found himself in, it would be immediately wiped away because you look like you're about to collapse. He's trying his best to not laugh at your torment right in front of you, but the mix of emotions that's so openly displayed on your face is making it hard. It's obvious that you didn't mean for this to happen, you've just tripped and fallen into a web of misunderstandings. Too entangled to explain yourself without making a fool out of yourself.

If looks could kill, this storekeeper would be dead on the floor twice over. This man calls out to the Yashiro Commissioner, and just to add salt to the wound, proudly congratulates him on his engagement with you. You said nothing about an engagement, you're far too young to be thinking about that thank you very much. But Ayato just nods along with that ever-pleasant smile without bothering to correct the situation. You're not sure if you should be thankful or not. He might be planning your murder in his mind so you stay silent as well.

When Ayato's gaze shifts to you, you do what any creature does when they're in danger and there's nowhere to run. You hide. You automatically raise your book to cover your face so you don't need to look at the source of your embarrassment. Although it does nothing to hide just how red your face is, you don't see him and that's good enough for you. But this also means you don't see the questioning glance the storekeeper shoots Ayato about your behavior, to which Ayato gives a pleasant smile and waves a hand to dismiss the situation.

"Please excuse my fiancee, we didn't mean to announce our engagement so early," Ayato muses, and the storekeeper nods in understanding while you bring your book down low enough to peer over the edges of the pages. Is...is he covering for you? He looks down expectantly at you but when you don't move, he awkwardly coughs into his fist and tilts his head toward the shopkeeper.

"A-Ah yes, that's right! It was a slip of the tongue and I hadn't realized I said it out loud. Please excuse my behavior," you bow and you can hear Ayato turning his head to snort into his hand. This is awful. You think you would prefer if he just outted you so you didn't need to show the world how awful your acting skills are. This is why you read plays, not star in them. But the shopkeeper nods in understanding, apologizing for saying your engagement so loud for others to hear before you're leaving with Ayato's arm wrapped around your waist.

"I'm deeply sorry. There was a discount for couples only and I just pointed in a random direction and it just happened to land on you. I swear I didn't mean to start any of this," you quickly rush out as you bow before Ayato as soon as you're out of sight from the public eye. He still has that annoying look in his eyes but you're completely at his mercy right now. The smug bastard definitely knows that.

"It's no trouble at all. I found the situation quite entertaining," he chuckles before looking you up and down. Okay...a tiny bit weird but you suppose your actions are worse. There's a long silence between the two of you as if he's pondering something and you've had enough of today's events.

"Um...well if that's everything I'll be getting out of your hair. Please enjoy the rest of your day Lord Kamisato," you mumble as you turn to leave but his hand hooks onto the back of your kimono and drags you right back.

"Ah, ah. It would make a bad impression if my fiancee suddenly left me on Valentine's Day. Oh and please, call me Ayato," he smiles that same polite smile but his eyes tell a different story entirely. His smile even widens at how hard you're biting your lip as you match his with a strained one. For Archon's sake, you just wanted to buy a book, how did you get into this mess?!

Kazuha

As soon as Inazuma's borders reopened, you were jumping on the fastest ship back to Liyue. You even got extra lucky that your good friend Beidou happened to be on the pier and offered you a well-deserved ride back to your home free of charge. You've been so homesick but unable to leave due to the regulation the Electro Archon placed, so to say that you were excited to finally go back was an understatement. Although the Crux Fleet was mainly an armed carrier delivering goods between places separated by sea, it did occasionally transport passengers if they paid enough. It only made sense that others would be like you and wish to return home as soon as possible. It's too bad that one of them happened to take one look at you and decide that you were born to be his.

It's an incredibly awkward affair. This wealthy businessman doesn't appear to mean any harm but he's incredibly dense with no sense of social awareness. Although you've politely declined his advances, he doesn't seem to stop. Even when Beidou herself threatens to throw the man overboard, he just keeps his distance and makes heart eyes at you. Unfortunately for you, Beidou can't actually throw him into the cruel watery depths no matter how much you plead with her. The man seems to be an important figure from Snezhnaya so she can't exactly treat him badly. Thus you spend most of your time ducking away and running away from your creepy admirer.

You're usually not so bold but the mix of overwhelming homesickness and just wanting to get this journey over and done with, all of it compels you to act rashly. If your new admirer can't take a simple no then you'll find a different way and show him you're off limits. You've seen the man who sits on the crow's nest, you believe Beidou said his name was Kazuha, whose been a part of her crew for a while now. You've only made passing small talk with each other and he seems like a nice person, at least you hope so. Because as soon as his feet touch the ship's deck, you're throwing yourself at him. You have to give him credit, he has lightning-fast reflexes and is a lot stronger than his demeanor expresses since he manages to catch you and stop you both from sprawling across the floor.

You make a show of throwing your arms around him and whining about how he doesn't spend enough time with poor dear you. You can tell he's infinitely confused so you lean in and whisper into his ear about your creepy stalker who can't take a no. Your eyes desperately plead with him to play along with you, just until the ship reaches Liyue Harbour. It only takes Kazuha to look over your shoulder and lock gazes with said "stalker" before he's turning to you with the most tender smile on his lips and a soft apology for being neglectful. A promise to spend more quality time to make up for his behavior. You swear that should have been an omen because you feel your heart stop for a second right then and there.

It's not completely out there. As the lookout, he would have to stay up in the crow's nest most of the day, and given how soft spoken Kazuha normally is, he doesn't look like the confrontational type. But he does make good on his fake promise and you find yourself spending most of your time in the crow's nest with Kazuha rather than ducking into the shadows of the lower deck. Kazuha is a relaxing presence and you can understand why he stays up here rather than with the rest of the crew. The gentle sea breeze brushes through your hair and it's so peaceful all the way up in the sky. You're almost jealous that he has an anemo vision because you think you'd love to stay in the winds forever.

He's also a gentleman through and through. You're not entirely sure if he's just pretending alongside you or if that's just how he normally acts. You think both options are equally plausible and endearing. At some point, you forget that you're supposed to be doing this for show to keep a creepy man away from you and you genuinely start to seek him out. It's during one night when you watch Kazuha whistle a tune through a leaf that you realize just how deep you're in. Now your position is reversed and you start to feel like the creepy heart-eyed stalker. It's something that you must absolutely not let happen, not on your watch.

Your sudden distance from Kazuha leaves him a bit hurt. He knows that this originally started as an act but he felt that you and him were getting close to each other without any ulterior motives. That all your talks of your dreams and aspiration were real and meaningful. But now that you've suddenly pulled back, he question's if everything was made up in his head. It's not like you owe him anything, he decided to help you out from of his own volition. Beidou can only look at this scene painfully at her two idiotic friends pushing themselves away from each other because they can't sit down and talk it out.

She drags the two of you into a private room, her only warning to fix your emotional angst or she really will throw you both overboard. You both know she's entirely serious so you both obediently nod as she slams the door closed.

Beidou leans against the wooden crates with her head propped up with her arm. She should probably stop watching, she's being far too nosy with her friend's love life, but what kind of friend would she be if she wasn't? She hopes you both managed to talk it out and realize that you're both crushing hard on each other. She had been far too busy with Liyue fastly approaching to check in on your progress but from the looks of things, she thinks everything went well. With the red cheeks and your fingertips linked together, it's so cute that she wants to gag on her wine. Don't get her wrong, she's happy for you and Kazuha, but any more of this puppy love is going to send her into an early grave.

"You're not going to stay in Liyue?" she overhears you say. Huh? She honestly thought that Kazuha might pitch a tent and finally settle down with you but the small shake of his head and your fallen expression says otherwise. Damn, talk about a heartbreaker. But he gives you a soft expression, something really vulnerable, and his hand comes up to caress your cheek- and that's her cue to turn away. That's something that even she knows she shouldn't be watching. She instead takes another swig of her cup.

"Captain."

She looks up to see Kazuha standing beside her, the air of nature and sea breeze clinging to him wherever he goes. She politely doesn't bring up the charm clutched tightly in his hands.

"You sure about this kid?" Beidou asks, her eyes still trained on her empty cup of booze. She doesn't need to look to know that he's watching your back disappear into the crowd longingly.

"If I try to force something I know I'm not ready to finish, it would only lead to disaster. Right now isn't the right time. But I'm sure in the future, our paths will cross again," Kazuha nods to himself solemnly. This time Beidou does look at him before she shows a fond smile herself before she brings her arm back and slaps it against Kazuha's back. It's loud and hard enough to jolt him out of his temporary sadness.

"If you ever need a ride back to Liyue, just let me know. We'll get you there in no time lover boy," Beidou grins cheekily as Kazuha flushes a bright red. How cute, he can't even be honest with himself huh?

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lacollectionneuse1967 · 5 months

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slip of the tongue part 2 - jealous

Theseus Scamander x Reader

“He was all over you,” he hisses. “I am not a possessive man, but I could’ve killed him then and there. He doesn’t know what’s mine.”

summary: after confessing your feelings for (and sleeping with) your boss, theseus, you join his brother newt's team of wizards attempting to thwart the notorious gellert grindelwald. when you're tasked with distracting and seducing a powerful dark wizard on your first mission, theseus gets uncharacteristically and fiercely jealous.

fem!reader. theseus scamander x reader.

category: smut with plot

warnings: 18+ smut, (light) mdom/femsub elements, unprotected penetration, semi-public sex, jealousy/possessive behavior, also the reader suffers brief unwanted sexual advances in a scene

part one / part two

Your dreams are uninventive. Your nightmares are even less so.

Often you are hounded by dogs: drooling, snapping canines, bloodthirsty past the point of cognizance, they’re more open mouths than animals. Or, you’re standing on the hill where your old orphanage used to sit in North London, barefoot on the roof while the rest of London floods below, water rising, you know you’re going to drown. Or some other tired, boring allegory for your past catching up with you, at last, your blessings, your wand, crumbling to ash—you know what the dreams mean and they don’t scare you anymore.

But tonight you are perfectly dreamless. The dream dogs, the wintry world outside, the sound of the wind whistling through the empty London streets, it cannot touch you now. The fireplace is crackling and warm orange light spills in beneath the door from the living room.

Theseus’s arm is draped over your body, your head is on his chest. Every part of your body where your bare skin meets his buzzes with contentment. His room is like a sanctuary, his arms a house that holds you.

You don’t think you’ve slept for even a full hour. It’s still dark outside when you feel Theseus jostling your shoulder.

“Y/N. Wake up, darling.”

You sigh in response and are about to put up a fight, but when you meet his eyes they’re full of sore regret, apologetic. He wouldn’t ask you to leave his bed unless it was important.

You emerge from the covers and start to stretch.

“What time is it?”

“I’m sorry, love, but it’s nearly four in the morning. We have to be going, it’s urgent.”

You turn to look at him, he’s raking a hand through his hair, sitting up in bed.

“Did you sleep at all, Theseus?” You ask incredulously.

“No, too much to think about. And besides, I knew if I slept I wouldn’t be likely to wake. Better you sleep…”

Your heart wrenched. In a swell of affection, you went to him, crawling back over his body on the bed.

“No,” he groans, but his hands come around you, sliding down to your hips, anyway. You kiss his neck, raking your teeth over the skin there.

“Don’t do this to me,” he anguishes. His grip tightens on your hip, it’s meant to be chastising but it makes you want him more. “Please. We need to leave, Y/N.”

It wasn’t easy letting go of him. You know he would’ve given you what you wanted with enough persistence.

“Okay, okay!” You relent, kissing his mouth with a smile. “I’ll stop terrorizing you now.” You leap out of bed again without complaint.

When he stands he’s serious-Theseus again, your boss. And you love him still.

For his sake, you pretend not to notice his erection in his boxer shorts. It looks painfully hard.

“Get dressed,” he says to you before turning to the bathroom. “We need to get to Hogsmeade.”

It was wonderfully strange to see him like this—hair in wavy disarray, looking soft and subdued, barefoot and in his t-shirt. You want to appreciate the sight, you want to talk about what had happened between you and all that had been said. But his mind is elsewhere, preoccupied, and it seems you are both running late.

At your insistence, he lets you apparate to your apartment for a change of clothes, but then the two of you are off, running down the stairs of his building into the dark world below.

—————

Hogsmeade is more of a detour. There is an incognito meet-up organized with none other than Professor Albus Dumbledore. You’d, mercifully, taken a train--the Hogwarts Express. Theseus mentioned that Dumbledore was being watched by the Ministry, and that there were anti-apparition charms put up around the village and the castle.

You were just grateful to see him sleeping, at last, on the way there.

It was barely daylight when the two of you arrived, the sun bleak and pink over the Highlands, providing no warmth. You were grateful for the coffee you'd nursed on the train, as you were grateful to relieve yourself of the confidential documents from the Ministry. Their weight was an invisible one for you, evidence of your betrayal.

"Some aspiring Auror you are," you thought to yourself, bitterly.

“I tried to organize them for you. I started to, actually,” You supplied sheepishly when Dumbledore regarded the haphazard stacks of parchment, laid out on one of the tables in what you assumed was his brother's inn.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at you regardless and thanked you sincerely.

When you step out of the inn, you look to Theseus just as he looks over his shoulder at you. You're both more or less sleepless, and cold, and it seems the both of you have betrayed the Ministry and embarked on a hopeless mission, without many allies in the world.

But you were a united front.

It surprises you when he says, so earnestly that the tension in his shoulders seems to deflate, “God, I missed you. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

You blush, but don’t break his gaze. You’re not afraid to let him see you anymore.

“Where to, Mr. Scamander?”

He flexes his jaw like he’s not thinking about the plan at all, like he’s thinking about last night. But then, with a sigh, the moment is broken.

“Germany,” he says. “It’s time you meet my younger brother and the rest of the resistance.”

He says ‘resistance’ like it's some inside joke, some funny jab. You don't understand it until you arrive at the hotel room in Berlin.

-----------

Other than the hair, that uncommon shade of reddish, honey brown, and the apparent kindness and sense of humanity, Newt is nothing like Theseus. In fact, when he comes over to greet you he can hardly meet your eye, his head is half bowed in the other direction, his mouth a nervous, flat line.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I was sure that you'd do the right thing when Theseus sent you his letter. It was... very brave of you."

You look to Theseus in sharp amusement, eyes sparkling.

"Was there ever a question of whether or not I'd betray you? Did you really think there was a chance I'd turn you over to the authorities?"

Theseus places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Come now, Y/N," he says. "You know if I were to die I'd prefer it to be at your hand anyway."

You want to roll your eyes, but you're not sure to what extent he's joking.

You shake Newt's hand. You're soon after introduced to a muggle baker named Jacob and an astute, somewhat brash Auror from America named Tina. You're not much of a people-person, but you find that you like them both, immensely. They feel genuine, the sort of strong, singular characters that couldn't deceive anyone if they tried. That is why Newt's explanation of your task for the night sends a bolt of dread down your spine.

"We need to need to retrieve a magical object from a German Minister's office. I-I can't say much, it's better you don't know, but it's safe to assume that a large portion of the German Ministry of Magic has already fallen. Helmut, Vogel--and who knows how many others are under the influence of Grindelwald."

"Which German Minister's office?" Theseus says. His hands are in his pockets, he's leaning against the windowsill, the picture of nonchalance, his hair swept back. He's so handsome you could cry.

Newt ignores him. "Now, tonight may be our only chance. There's a diplomatic gala at the ministry itself. I can get us all in, Pickett and I can handle sneaking into the office itself, but there are five people who know about the object being at the ministry, who will be on the lookout and who need to be distracted until we're out."

He doled out assignments swiftly. Theseus was to distract the head of security. Jacob, the two waitstaff who served as the Minister's private informants. For Tina, the German Auror, Helmut. And for you? The Minister himself.

"Which Minister, Newt?" Theseus asks again, the edge in his voice unmistakable, though you don't understand it.

"Baron Dietrich, the Minister of Finance," Newt says at last.

Dietrich. Most of your work for Theseus was domestic, but you try to remember what you can. Dietrich was some Bavarian-born descendent of the aristocracy. Hedonistic, high society. He fought in the war, but gained his reputation in the drinking clubs of Berlin. Even you knew he was ruthless, notorious. A brute of a man without much respect for the law. That was the extent of what you knew.

Newt is rushing to explain before you or Theseus can speak.

“Please, Y/N, Theseus." He looks between the two of you, trying to appeal to both. "Dietrich, h-he likes…he likes beautiful women and he-"

Theseus crosses the room to his brother in a single stride. "Yes, and do you have any idea what he likes to do to those beautiful women, Newt?” He's seething. “Even everyone at the British Ministry knows he brutalizes them."

“I-I wouldn’t ask her if it weren’t absolutely necessary. So long as she’s able to distract him at the party, keep him interested there, at the party, nothing will happen to her—to you!” Newt turns to you now, addressing you directly. “I’m sure of it…”

Theseus sucks his teeth and turns away from his brother, still fuming. “Absolutely not. You will not send her away from my side, that’s final. Not to that man.”

“Theseus, please-"

“She’s muggleborn, Newt! Do you know what men like Baron Dietrich do to wizards like her? If he found out, if any one of Grindelwald's followers did, she'd be killed.” Theseus is speaking with such firm authority, but you know him well enough to detect the barely concealed panic in his eyes, the fracture just beneath the fortress. “Send Tina instead, she’s an Auror.”

“But Y/N is exactly the sort of girl that Dietrich would be-"

“I want to be an Auror too,” your voice sounds strange to your ears when you find it. It has a clear, confident quality, musical and lucid.

Theseus looks to you in shock. You wonder if he knew about the promotion you’d been offered at all, if he knew all you’d sacrificed to stay close to him—your very dreams dashed to pieces. From his expression, naked and open as day, he did not.

“I can do it,” you make an effort to sound settled. Unshaken.

Being a young, vulnerable girl in the streets of East London, at the orphanage after, and then being a woman at the British Ministry as an adult, you’d dealt with plenty of over-friendly and entitled men. Boorish men were everywhere and were not uniquely monstrous. You hoped Baron Dietrich wasn’t either.

"It's settled then," Jacob claps his hands together, seeming relieved that the tension between the two brothers has evaporated. Theseus is slumped over, leaning back on the nightstand in apparent defeat. "We're going to a party!"

Tina places her hand on your arm, leading you towards the closet. She doesn't seem to be terribly affectionate, so you're grateful to her for extending you this small kindness now.

"Here, Y/N," She says. "Let's get you dressed. We have plenty of time to go over the plan. It'll be okay."

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

Your outfit, "disguise" you suppose, is nothing like the subdued robes of your companions. You don't know why you're surprised when they ask you to enter the ministry ten minutes after them, alone.

The skirt of your dress is flowy and short, like a dancer's, ending just above your knee, something that might've been acceptable a decade prior, given the fashion trends. It's made of delicate petals of off-white fabric, adorn with tiny silver and pearlescent beads, glittering. Meant to draw attention. It's sleeveless and the top is breathtakingly form-fitting, pinching in your waist and hugging every curve of your body, but you are gratefully afforded an elegant high neckline. Silk, ivory-colored, wrist-length gloves that do nothing for the cold cover your hands and a fur half-coat is draped over your shoulders. Your lipstick is a deep red.

You understand what it means, these luxury items, your styling, the fact that you were instructed to enter alone. By no design of your own, the implication was that you were an escort, a madame of the night. No wonder Newt had Theseus leave the hotel first, before he could catch a glimpse of you. You didn't dare imagine his reaction.

As you enter the gala, handing the doorman your fabricated invitation without a glance, every head turns to you. Chatter stills as you pass, the women gawk and the men look stricken, hungry as the pack dogs in your dreams. Plates and trays sail overhead and the instruments play on, unattended. The German Ministry of Magic has spared no expense.

Patrons lean in close and speak hushed and anxiously. You assume the upcoming election for the highest office of the International Confederation of Wizards is on everyone's mind.

You head for the bar with your head held high, hoping it doesn't show on your face, your discomfort at being so seen. You were told Baron Dietrich would be at the bar with some of his men. With a trembling, gloved hand you motion the barman over and order a drink.

You don’t dare look for your friends. You assume things are going swimmingly for them, but for you? You are drowning in your finery.

You’re not even alone for a moment before the wolves descend. You should've known a man like Dietrich would come find you.

"Mädchen!" He approaches you partially, but expects you to come the rest of the way, waves you over with a meaty hand. When you raise an eyebrow, haughtily, he switches to English.

"Girl, come here." The timber of his voice is low, gravelly. He has a heavy brow, his hair is thick and peppered with gray. The gray does nothing to diminish the impression of his strength. In a fight without your wand, he could have your neck snapped, broken and rolling around its stem, in a heartbeat.

You walk over, leaving your drink at the bar, untouched.

The gala is housed in a mammoth, marble room, twenty foot ceilings held up by smooth columns, something that reminds you of Gringott's. But around the massive bar at the room's center are half-circle booths and tables, spiraling out like lily pads. You slide into Dietrich's booth and his arm goes around you immeditely.

He smells chokingly of cigars, a perfumey, sickly sweet smell. He is a bloated, thick-limbed man. No, you couldn't have fought him off. There are so many uniformed men at his table that some of the younger ones have to stand. With a sting of shock, you don't see how you could be of any influence on these men at all, they hardly see you as a person, aren't speaking to you. You hope Newt and Pickett work quickly.

Another young man, dressed in what looks like a soldier's uniform, slides into the booth after you, sandwiching you in next to Dietrich. You let out of noise of shock and begin to push him off you when Dietrich grabs both your wrists.

"Don't be fussy. This is my young friend, newly recruited. I plan to make him my protégé."

The other men slap the boy over the shoulder, jostling him in congratulations. He smiles meekly. You could hate him for that meekness. That pathetic deference to power.

"We'll share you tonight, of course." Dietrich is looking at the boy, not you. "In my office."

Dietrich's hand clamps over your exposed thigh and his fingernails jab into the fat of your thigh. You don't react to the bright bite of pain. The other boy begins to lean into you, breath hot over your neck.

Whatever small bird lives in your ribs begins to beat itself against that cage, flailing and thrashing.

"No!" You can't help the edge of panic in your voice. Dietrich is too strong, so you don't bother, but you shove the boy off of you and out of the booth without much effort. The boy stumbles out, dumbfounded.

Dietrich snatches your wrist with real fury, bruisingly.

"What?! You're for sale, aren't you?" He won't hurt you in front of his men, not at the gala, but his face is so colored with anger that it's nearly purple.

"Please," there's a real plea in your voice when you say it, you try to cover it up with a hurried smile, you try to look charming. "Dance with me, sir?"

That seems to sedate him. He looks irritated, but pleased by your attention. At least he won't be able to molest you in front of all his colleagues and superiors.

He leads you to the dance floor and the entire way your mind is racing, scrambling for purchase, trying to figure out how you're going to keep him out of his office. He made it clear he had plans to go there later tonight with his men. With you.

And he was an even cruder man than you'd thought, he'd made no attempt to even flirt with or seduce you. His interest in you was moreso entitlement, the same interest a predator has for a slab of meat.

Your wand, concealed on your person, gave you little comfort. Newt had asked that you did not reveal yourself, didn't make a scene. But if it came down to it, you would fight Dietrich rather than submit to him. He was more than repulsive. He wanted to hurt you.

"Please," you think to yourself. "Please, God, don't make me-"

You startle at the large hand that grips your waist and spins you away, just before you reach the dance floor.

Dietrich, abandoned, turns in flustered outrage and is swallowed by the crowd. You're being whisked away before he can fully react, Theseus guiding you deftly out of the overfull room of diplomats.

You sob with relief. "Theseus-" you start, but he's leading you deeper, still, away from the gala.

It's not until you're in some pitch-dark, gaping mausoleum of a hallway that Theseus finally stops, pressing you delicately against the wall, holding your face in his hands like water, like something precious. He examines your body.

"Are you okay?" He asks, pressingly.

You could cry out in joy, the sight of his face is balm-like, giving you a familiar relief.

"Yes, yes!" You reassure him. "Is it done? Did we do it?"

Theseus nods in confirmation, still looking over you for injuries, turning over your wrists in his hands.

"The others are already out. It was quick. No one noticed a thing, we probably took too many precautions this time around..." He finally meets your eyes. The look in his is dark and indecipherable. When he swallows, it's raggedly. "You're really okay, Y/N?"

"Yes," you answer, hesitant at the intensity of his look. "Why?"

Theseus presses his body against yours harshly, you don't even have time to moan before he's swallowing it with his mouth. Your hands are all over him, but he gives you no room to move, it's as if he doesn't notice, the way he's pushing you up against the wall, kissing you like he wants to consume you.

"You're so damn beautiful," he mutters. "When you walked in I almost blew my cover just to go to you."

"Theseus," you pant. You're needy, you want him to keep kissing you but he's leaning his neck back, pinning you against the wall but holding himself away so he can look at you when he runs his warm hands from the backs of your thighs up to your ass. He hooks his fingers around the waistline of your panties and pulls them down so they're only hanging onto you by one of your ankles.

He leans in for another kiss, just as deep and wretched as the last, just as maddening.

He pulls away again with a pant.

"Your dress is too damn short," he curses under his breath.

"Are you angry at me?" You ask quietly, still writhing against him, desperate for friction, but suddenly self-conscious.

"No, no sweetheart," he soothes. "Not at you. You did so good. Such a good job." His praise has you leaning into his palm, which is cupping the side of your face.

You whimper, "I want you." You realize it's true as you're saying it. You can't ever lie to him. "I want you," you repeat, more insistently.

“He was all over you,” he hisses against your ear. “I am not a possessive man, but I could’ve killed him then and there. He doesn’t know what’s mine.” He punctuates the last word with a squeeze to your backside.

"Theseus," you breathe out, helplessly. You can't believe this is happening. The wing of the German Ministry that you're in is completely dark, you can barely make out the tapestries and curtains hanging loose from the walls. But there's distant light at the end of the hall, and dim voices and music filter in and out from the gala a few rooms over.

But you want him to keep touching you more than you know better, know you should stop. More than anything.

He starts to hike your dress up, his movements urgent, when he stops abruptly. The spot where Dietrich's nails dug into your upper thigh is small, but he drew blood.

Theseus pauses, loosens his grip and lets you slide down the wall. With a slow-thudding heart you briefly fear he'll be so furious he'll run back to the gala, to find Dietrich, but he only bends down and kisses the wound, just barely, lips ghosting over skin, so gently you could cry. Kneeling before you, he looks like a prince, a knight. He's careful to avoid the wound when he lifts you back up against the wall.

You can't help but stare down at it, in awe, when he takes his dick out. Your body still thrills at the sight of it, there, huge, resting at your entrance. Theseus grinds a slow circle, sliding it against your wet folds, against your clit. You just stare.

He flashes you a lazy smile.

“What? You want me to help you put it in?”

You moan, audibly. You're not doing a very good job at being discreet, but how can you when he says things like that to you and expects you to answer?

"Yes, please," you close your eyes, too flustered to meet his burning gaze when you say the words.

He grips the base of his cock and guides it into your pussy. Clamps a hand over your mouth to muffle the noises you're making, you whimper dumbly against his palm. Only releases his hand from your mouth once he's fully seated inside of you. The stretch is so big you know it would hardly take any movement at all for him to break that tension and make you come, drive you mad, unravel you completely. Just a few rocks against the wall, a few rolls of his hips and you'd be brainless and spent, crying out his name. You're already dripping around him. But you want to last longer for him this time.

He's looking directly into your eyes.

“You’re taking it, Y/N. You can choose where—in your mouth, on your face, inside. But you’re taking it all.”

You nod. Then once again he's fucking you dumb, you don't even care that anyone could walk by, you're just thinking about how big he is, how good it feels. He's fucking your body slack now, you don't even have to do anything, he’s holding you up, lifting you onto and off of his cock roughly, debasingly.

His hands nearly circle your waist completely, they’re so large. Your mouth is stuck open, making stupid, feeble noises and he’s grunting small words of encouragement.

"Say my name," he says.

When you don't respond immediately, too blissed out to think, he slams your body down harder onto him and you nearly yelp.

"Hngh, Theseus. Theseus, please-"

You can feel him get almost unbearably hard inside of you, then he’s heaving you up and flipping you around, manhandling you, so your back is his against his torso, his right arm a bar across your chest, still inside. He brings a hand down roughly to your clit to touch you through it, and then you're both coming hard, your loud, jagged breaths echoing through the empty hall.

Your head spins, you're seeing stars.

"Baby," he says, when you don't come back to yourself immediately. "Was I too rough? Are you okay?"

You nod, breathlessly, but stumble when he finally stops supporting your weight. Your body is still juddering with pleasure, your fingertips quiver and feel numb as you smooth down your dress.

He's right, you think with a laugh. My dress is too damn short.

Theseus has the decency to look around the hall to make sure no one was watching, and to help you fix your hair and what's left of your lipstick. Your lips are pink and bitten now, swollen.

"They're probably wondering where we are. We should go." His voice is serious, unemotive, but there's something like devotion in the way he looks over you from head to toe, just one last time, to make sure you're beyond reproach. He hands you his jacket, which is huge on you, and slings your fur cape over his arm, bearing the cold himself like a gentleman.

A flurry of snow has begun to spiral down in the streets of Berlin, white particles curling and dancing in the wind. You've always found this type of snowfall to be so fanciful, the closest thing to magic in the muggle world. You walk back to the meeting point in comfortable silence, Theseus's hand clasped firmly around yours.

"He doesn't know what's mine," he'd said about Dietrich, about you. And last night, not that long ago, he'd said, "I love you."

Albeit, after you said it first. You look over to his oblivious face, checking both sides for cars before leading you across the busy street. His kind eyes, the line of his jaw..

You wonder how he could mean it... You'd so meticulously tried to conceal from him all the ugly parts of your life, your past, your fears, even your wants when they seemed to inconvenience him.

Could he love me? Could I let him?

"I want you," you'd said to him in the hall of the German Ministry. You realize now that you meant more than his body. For so long even just a look from him, just a word, was enough to sustain you.

But now you wanted more. Maybe it was selfish, undeserved, that the magical world was giving way to crisis, the dark forces were closing in around hope, and yet here you were, wanting to ask him for more...

part three here

author's note: hiiiiii! YES i switched to present tense from past tense in the last part, and no i'm not sorry... please let me know if you'd like me to continue this fic! i have a third & final chapter in mind. or i can take other theseus requests. the theseus brainrot is real... some AUs would be fun too! as always, feedback is welcome <3 taglist: @mystic-mara

#theseus smut #theseus x reader #theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #hp fic #fantastic beasts

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reiderwriter · 3 months

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hii! could you write smut where spence and reader are bestfriends and one day shes in his car and he snaps and is like “I LOVE YOU” and like they have sex in the car (like with sub spence) and can you include spence getting bj THANKYOUUU

A/N: Car love confessions always remind me of the electric love tiktok "I kissed my best friend" trend that I was OBSESSED with two years ago, and my GOD was this a full-circle moment for me.

Warnings: sub!Spencer, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism, oral sex (m recieving), slight cum play, car sex (bj only), like this was slightly self-indulgent and I had to post it right after I finished writing...

The air outside was cold, but the car had been running for an hour now as you listened to Spencer Reid talk about his day. Whether your cheeks were flushed from the heat coming from the fans or from his subtle attentions, you couldn't discern.

Spencer, your best friend of nine years, who had been around the country saving lives and facing the most horrendous criminals in the world, was currently sat in the passenger seat of your car excitedly mumbling about Star Trek.

“I can't believe you decided to watch it, and you did it without me,” he smiled at you, his body angled to face you just ever so slightly.

He'd started by filling you in on the case he'd just returned from, then moved onto books he'd read recently (a conversation you could absolutely contribute to, being a college librarian yourself, and the source of many of his books).

And then he'd asked you about your day, and you'd spilled about watching a few episodes of classic Star Trek, and all of his joy and knowledge had bubbled up to his lips without even a thought of pushing it down at all.

“I've been hounding you for several years, and you decide on a whim to watch it today?” He'd meant for the question to come out with an annoyed tone, but he couldn't hold back the smile passing over his lips as you laughed at him.

“Spencer, it's a TV show. We can watch it again together. In fact, why don't we do just that? Drive to mine, and we can sit through as many episodes of Star Trek as your heart desires.”

“I wanted to see your initial reactions, though. I wanted to tell you all the behind the scenes knowledge only true trekkies know about.”

You laughed loudly at this, especially as you saw the pout on his lips as he mumbled the word “trekkies.”

“Hey, stop laughing,” he said, but his chest was heaving with a chuckle of his own. And for the life of you, you couldn't. He was sitting there pouting because he wanted to see how much you'd enjoy his favorite TV show, and by god, did he look adorable.

“I'm sorry, Spence, I-” you tried to cover your mouth, but found your hands were both needed to hold your stomach instead as the laughs that wracked your body veered on painful.

“Y/N, really!” He said, fully grinning now, pout abandoned. But you didn't stop.

Nothing in the air changed or paused at that second, as his head swooped closer to you, but your body instantly reacted to his closeness.

It was as if all the hairs on your body stood on end as he tipped up your chin and quickly stole away all the oxygen in your body.

Before your mind could react, your hands were already tangled in his hair, making sure he couldn't pull away. But you felt him smiling into the kiss, and you knew he wouldn't ever want to pull away now that you'd accepted him.

With empty lungs, you finally had to separate, and to your surprise, a giggle still flittered from your lips. This time, you did clap a hand over your lips, though.

“You're laughing still? I just kissed you to shut you up, and you're still laughing.” He said, tucking the few strands of hair behind your ear but still refusing to move too far away.

“You should've seen your face. You were pouting and adorable and-”

“I love you.”

Your heart, that had previously been beating remarkably fast after his kiss (and likely from the fit of laughter preceding it), stopped at his words.

You'd heard people describing butterflies in their stomach before, but this was more intense. It was more like your heart was a pinball that had just been launched back into the machine and was bouncing around in your ribcage hitting objects and trying desperately not to detach from your chest and jump into his arms.

“I love you, Y/N.” He smiled, and it was sweet and simple, and even if you were not simple people and life had never been particularly sweet to you, you allowed your happiness to soar as you leaned back in and pressed your lips against his.

Maybe it was the nine years of waiting (though had you been asked, you'd have been totally oblivious to your quite obvious feelings for the man). Maybe it was again the heat in the car. Maybe it was perhaps the two weeks in which you'd not seen him that led you to venture a step further than you usually would.

But within seconds of tangling your tongue with his in his mouth, sending him reciprocated confessions with each passing breath, you somehow found the energy to pull yourself up and onto his lap.

“Y/N, we're in a car-” his protests were weak as you suckled your way down his neck.

“It's dark outside, and I love you.” His hands gripped possessively on your hips as you continued to shower him in affection.

“What if someone sees us?” He whimpered as you loosened his tie, discarding it so you could pop his buttons open and trail more kisses across his beautiful collarbone.

“Then I hope they understand enough to walk away and leave us alone to love each other.”

You'd managed to get all of his buttons undone and sat squirming in his lap as your fingers brushed across his pert nipples. His head was thrown back to allow you access to the part of his neck that, when you'd run your tongue along it, had him gripping your ass and rubbing your core along the now obvious tent in his pants.

“Y/N, please….” He panted, and you again returned your lips to his face, brushing over his eyes, his nose, his jaw, and his lips. You were blind and discovering your whole new world through your lips, mapping his features inch by inch.

His whimpers grew louder, more urgent. He was almost becoming whiny, and that pout from earlier shadowed across his face again, so delightful that you'd immediately wanted to kiss it away from him.

Dry humping in the passenger seat wasn't going to be enough you decided, and reluctantly drew away from him quickly.

“Y/N, what-” He weakly gripped the material of your pants, his quiet protests from earlier forgotten as he begged for your touch to return.

“Trust me, I love you,” you winked at him again, marvelling in his flush, the hand he wiped across his face to hide his quiet joy.

You shimmied yourself down so your face was hovering just above his cock, straining through his pants. You slowly undid the buttons and let his cock spring up, wrapping a firm hand around it when it was fully released.

His hand came down to cover yours, even as the other covered his flushed cheeks and eyes in embarrassment.

“Spencer, let me see your face. I want you to look at me, please, Spencer.” You cooed at him as you quietly removed your hand from under his, instead moving it to his so you could control his movements.

You let your breaths hit his cock as you controlled his hand, helping him to slowly jerk off as he gave into the pleasures you were so desperate to gift him.

“Spencer, please, for me. Show me your fucked out face, I want to see it so bad.”

With each slow stroke, his body seemed to grow heavier with lust until the hand on his face eventually fell, and you could lock eyes with him once again.

You smiled brightly at him and, without missing a beat, took him into your mouth.

The angle was awkward, but you only needed to see that shock and just in his eyes briefly, so you manoeuvred your head into a better position and began fresh.

You held his hand, holding his cock, and sunk your lips down as far as they'd go, before lifting slowly off. You did it again, and heard the hiss from his lips as he enjoyed the pressure.

You sped up slightly and felt his discarded hand land on your hair. It wasn't domineering or controlling, but more comforting, as he tugged your hair behind your ear, eventually bundling it up into a gentle pony tail to keep it out of the way of your task.

“Y/N, I love you so much,” he whimpered and moaned, and you squeezed his hand in response, intensifying the pressure on his cock while also responding to his confession.

You were going to show him just how deeply you loved him by giving him as much pleasure as you could muster.

“Pull off, Y/N, please, I'm going to-” He bit his lip, biting off the sentence, almost as if he were afraid of speaking the vulgar words into existence. You could feel his muscles going taut underneath your hands, though, knowing exactly how close he was to losing all control and giving into passion.

And you certainly weren't pulling away.

Instead, you pushed your head down once again, going further than you'd managed thus far, nose tickled by his pubic hairs as he shot his load down your throat.

You gagged, of course you gagged, and he let out a guttural moan, sensitivity apparent in each of his twitches and ragged breaths.

You made sure to keep as much of him inside your mouth and rose off his cock, looking up at him again through eyes half-lidded with lust. You made sure he was watching as you smiled and swallowed a mouthful of his cum, making sure to lick your lips after and watching his throat bob as he processed the entire scenario.

You again climbed into his lap, but this time, you just pressed your head to his bare chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, and listened to the thrum of his heart.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said again. You hummed a response and waited for him to say it again and again. Hopefully, for the rest of your lives.

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