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#inspiration struck and I had to take it
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Thing is, right, I wasn’t able to write at all during the beach trip because I slept in a camper filled with people who liked going to bed early lol and I WRITE LATE AT NIGHT OKAY THAT IS HOW I DO THINGS
So I’m gonna try writing now and see how that goes 😅 Wish me luckkkkk
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ssolessurvivor · 10 months
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@iviaw
While Logan knew this was stupid, he couldn't stay holed up in that hotel room anymore. He had to get some fresh air. Usually, midnight walks weren't too bad, but that was back at home. New places posed unfamiliarity. Nevertheless, he needed to stretch his legs. Needed to walk his night sweat and terror out of his troubled mind.
Immediately, the darkness of the streets, the eerie glow of the lamps, it was calming but also held a foreboding. A deep breath of air helped cleanse his lungs of his fear, eyes closed as his face turned upwards, towards the clouded skies full of stars. The light of the moon settled him. His shoulders lost their tension as he made a walk through the edges of town, away from prying eyes.
However, at the whispers of moving water alongside him, that chatter of leaves in a soft wind. Logan paused, wondering...nerves momentarily awakened in his stomach as he turned and idly gazed deep into the brush. Watching the ripples reflecting the muted moonlight, cattails shivering in the breeze. For some reason, he was frozen.
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yusuke-of-valla · 4 months
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WE LIVE IN A HELL WORLD
Snippets from the article by Karissa Bell:
SAG-AFTRA, the union representing thousands of performers, has struck a deal with an AI voice acting platform aimed at making it easier for actors to license their voice for use in video games. ...
the agreements cover the creation of so-called “digital voice replicas” and how they can be used by game studios and other companies. The deal has provisions for minimum rates, safe storage and transparency requirements, as well as “limitations on the amount of time that a performance replica can be employed without further payment and consent.”
Notably, the agreement does not cover whether actors’ replicas can be used to train large language models (LLMs), though Replica Studios CEO Shreyas Nivas said the company was interested in pursuing such an arrangement. “We have been talking to so many of the large AAA studios about this use case,” Nivas said. He added that LLMs are “out-of-scope of this agreement” but “they will hopefully [be] things that we will continue to work on and partner on.”
...Even so, some well-known voice actors were immediately skeptical of the news, as the BBC reports. In a press release, SAG-AFTRA said the agreement had been approved by "affected members of the union’s voiceover performer community." But on X, voice actors said they had not been given advance notice. "How has this agreement passed without notice or vote," wrote Veronica Taylor, who voiced Ash in Pokémon. "Encouraging/allowing AI replacement is a slippery slope downward." Roger Clark, who voiced Arthur Morgan in Red Dead Redemption 2, also suggested he was not notified about the deal. "If I can pay for permission to have an AI rendering of an ‘A-list’ voice actor’s performance for a fraction of their rate I have next to no incentive to employ 90% of the lesser known ‘working’ actors that make up the majority of the industry," Clark wrote.
SAG-AFTRA’s deal with Replica only covers a sliver of the game industry. Separately, the union is also negotiating with several of the major game studios after authorizing a strike last fall. “I certainly hope that the video game companies will take this as an inspiration to help us move forward in that negotiation,” Crabtree said.
And here are some various reactions I've found about things people in/adjacent to this can do
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And in OTHER AI games news, Valve is updating it's TOS to allow AI generated content on steam so long as devs promise they have the rights to use it, which you can read more about on Aftermath in this article by Luke Plunkett
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shay-creates · 7 months
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Apparently, my decision to be silly and make fanart of someone's writing (because I genuinely enjoy the story the person is writing and I was struck with inspiration upon reading a particular scene) has benevolent and wildly unforeseen consequences.
I apparently gained a bit of control of the canon because said writer really loved the art and decided what I drew/draw is canon.
2. Writer put said artwork into the document of his story right below the scene, so now it's IN the story where people who read the story will see it (with a link to me)
3. He sent the artwork to all his friends and people he knows because he was so excited
Wholesome interaction and I watched him do all that in real time, good stuff. However...there are two more consequences I was notified of today...nearly a full week after I gave the artwork.
Seeing the artwork caused his friends to become interested in reading and hearing about his story, which means more people are reading what he's writing and giving him critique on the story (which he actively asks for).
Apparently, upon seeing the art, his writer friends got a sudden second wind to pick back up writing they'd abandoned for a few months. Because, I quote, "seeing that someone enjoyed {his} writing enough to take the time to make art of it gave them the motivation that maybe THEY can write something that will inspire someone to also create something." I have accidentally caused a writing frenzy among his writer friends and my silly idea to make art for someone has had a butterfly effect for people who I don't even know.
Uhh...I'm pretty sure there's a moral here but I am tired and have a great deal of emotions about this.
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sugume · 2 months
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YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU
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✧・. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.
( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  
word count - > 6.6k
authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 
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“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 
‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 
“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  
‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 
“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  
‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 
“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 
‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 
You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 
— 
“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  
“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 
“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  
You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 
“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 
“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 
“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 
You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 
“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 
“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 
“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  
“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 
“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 
“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  
“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 
“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  
“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 
“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 
“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 
“Sweetheart...” 
“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 
“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 
“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 
“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 
“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 
“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 
— 
“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 
“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  
After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 
‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  
‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 
‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 
“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 
‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 
‘Are you serious?’ 
‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 
‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 
‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 
‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 
‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 
‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 
‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 
‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 
‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 
‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 
‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 
— 
You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 
“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  
“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 
“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 
“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  
‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 
“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  
...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 
You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  
“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  
“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 
“What?” You ask. 
“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 
You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 
“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 
“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 
“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 
“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 
“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 
“I don’t care.” 
“Please—” 
“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 
— 
You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  
You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 
‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 
‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 
‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 
‘Oh wow.’ 
‘I know.’ 
‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 
‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  
‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 
“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 
‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 
“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 
‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 
“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 
‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 
“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 
“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  
‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 
“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 
‘And what is that?’ 
‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 
"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 
‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  
You nod. 
‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 
You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 
You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 
“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 
“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  
“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 
“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  
You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 
“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 
“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 
“N-no!” 
— 
“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  
“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 
“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 
“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 
“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  
“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 
“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 
 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  
You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  
You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  
Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  
“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  
“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 
Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 
He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  
“No babydoll—” 
“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 
“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  
“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   
“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 
“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  
You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 
“I know it’s a lot of information.” 
“It is.” 
“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  
Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  
“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  
You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  
You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  
Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 
“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  
“Suguru—” 
“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 
“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  
“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  
He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 
“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 
Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  
“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  
“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 
You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  
“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  
“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 
“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  
“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 
“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 
“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 
“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  
“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 
“You okay babydoll?”  
“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 
“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 
“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  
Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 
“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 
“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  
“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  
“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  
“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 
Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  
“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.  
“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 
“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 
“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 
“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  
“T-that was—” 
“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 
“Same.” You smile before wincing. 
“What’s wrong babydoll.”  
“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 
“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 
“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  
“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  
6K notes · View notes
theostrophywife · 4 months
Text
green with envy.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
request: omg i need more of theo x reader with a hint of flirty draco
song inspiration: jealous by nick jonas.
author's note: ask and you shall receive. here's draco scheming to make theo jealous, which we all know won't end well. happy new year's my loves. we're staring 2024 off with a bang 😉
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“Merlin, they can’t possibly be serious.” Draco muttered in disbelief. “Those two truly aren’t fooling anyone.”
Blaise glanced up from his book, searching for the cause of Malfoy’s offense. The Three Broomsticks was packed, but it wasn’t hard to spot the reason for his friend’s griping. Tucked into a secluded corner of the tavern, you and Theo gravitated towards each other like magnets, leaning into one another, foreheads pressed together, talking and laughing like you were the only people in the world. 
It had been this way ever since Blaise could remember.
As always, Theo wore that stupid love-struck expression on his face as he listened to you talk, chuckling softly as you waved your arms around animatedly. You, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to the pining and yearning coming from Nott’s end. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that Theo was clearly in love with you, yet you remained blind to his affections. 
“They’ve made it very clear that they’re just friends,” Blaise replied, repeating the same tired words that you and Theodore declared over and over again over the course of your friendship.
“And you believe them?” 
“Of course not.” Blaise affirmed as he flipped through the pages of his book once more. “But who am I to burst their blissful bubble of ignorance?” 
“They’re clearly in denial,” Draco remarked, watching intently as you picked a nonexistent piece of lint off of Theo’s quidditch sweater. “It’s been seven years of this pathetic teetering between will they or won’t they territory. I can’t stomach another day of it, Blaise. Someone needs to do something.” 
“Whatever half-arsed plan you’ve cooked up in that ferret brain of yours, I want no part in it.” 
Draco tapped his fingers against the wooden table, a familiar smirk curving at his lips. Blaise sighed in exasperation. He knew that look. He hated that look. It usually meant that Malfoy was hatching a scheme that spelled nothing but trouble for Blaise. 
“I’m serious, Draco.” Blaise said in a stern voice.
“So am I,” the blonde replied. “Those two need a push and I’m more than willing to provide it for them.” 
“I already know that I’m going to regret asking, but what exactly are you planning?” 
Draco smirked. Blaise swore to Salazar that there was an evil gleam in his friend’s eyes as he turned over to face him. “I’m going to flirt with Y/N.” 
“Are you mental?” Blaise exclaimed. “Nott will send you to an early grave. Did you see what he did to Pucey for trying to chat Y/N up? Poor bastard had to eat his meals through a straw for weeks.”
“Then I guess it’s your job to prevent that from happening, Zabini.” 
There were a million protests on Blaise’s lips. Everyone knew that Theo was overprotective of his best friend. It was an unspoken rule that you were off-limits and Blaise had seen first hand the consequences that befell anyone that dared to hit on you. It usually ended with someone in the infirmary and that someone was never Theo. 
Draco was well aware of this fact as well, but he seemed to have a death wish. Before Blaise could stop him, Malfoy scooped two glasses of butterbeer from the counter and made his way over to you just as Theo excused himself for a smoke. You looked up just as Draco slipped into the booth, sliding beside you to take up the vacant spot your best friend left. 
“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N.” 
“Hi, Dray.” You greeted the blonde with a smile. “I didn’t know you were here, too.” 
“How could you?” He drawled playfully. “Theodore seems content keeping you all to himself.” 
You rolled your eyes fondly. “You could’ve easily just come over to join us.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing, darling.” Draco set a mug of ice cold butterbeer down in front of you. “And I brought your favorite.” 
“How sweet of you.” You beamed, totally unaware of his schemes as you clinked your glass against his. “Cheers, Draco.” 
“Cheers, Y/N.” 
The sweetness of the butterbeer lingered on your tongue and the foam rested on your upper lip as you savored the taste. Your tongue peeked out, trying to lick the remnants away. Silver eyes flashed mischievously as he clocked the action, a smirk curling against his lips. 
“Here, let me.” Draco brushed his thumb over your upper lip, wiping away the foam with ease. His fingers were soft and featherlight and nothing like the calloused feel of Theo’s hands. 
Your best friend had a bad habit of burning his fingertips from the countless blunts and cigarettes he smoked. Despite the fact that you offered to heal them with magic, Theo always refused. He said it made him more manly. Though you rolled your eyes at him, you found that you didn’t really mind his scars and calluses. It only made him that much more endearing. Why you were thinking of Theo while another man was touching you, you had no idea. Or perhaps you did and you were just in deep, deep denial about it. 
“Have I lost you, love?” 
With a blink, you found yourself staring back at Malfoy. “Sorry, Draco. What were you saying?” 
“I asked if you were using a new shampoo,” said your friend. He twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers, using the ends to tickle your cheek. “Your hair smells divine.” 
You paused, narrowing your eyes at Draco. “What are you doing, Dray?” 
“I’m not doing anything.” 
“You’re up to something.” 
That much was obvious to you. Years of friendship told you just as much. Draco was currently plotting something. Before you could question him further, a shadow loomed over the both of you. When Theo had left for his smoke break, he was carefree and grinning, but now tension colored your best friend’s features. As he glared down at Draco, Theo clenched his jaw and balled his fists at his side.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Malfoy.” 
“Teddy, he was just helping me with—“ 
“Draco doesn’t need to help you with anything.” Theo’s eyes flashed with anger, the blues and greens of his irises turning stormy as his gaze dropped to the lock of hair tangled through Draco’s fingers. “What he needs is to walk away before I break his fucking jaw.” 
Draco raised his palms up. “I don’t want any trouble, Nott.” 
Despite his statement, you sensed that trouble was exactly what Draco was aiming for. Instead of walking away like he should’ve, Malfoy leaned over and kissed your cheek in parting, which only further incensed Theo. If you hadn’t grabbed hold of the end of his coat, Theo would’ve hurled himself at Draco and punched the cocky smirk off of your friend’s face. 
You tugged at Theo and placed yourself between him and Draco, watching as the blonde returned to the table Blaise was currently sitting at. For good measure, he winked at the two of you as though Theo wasn’t already pissed enough as it was. 
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Theo’s gaze flickered back to you, his eyes darkening as they met yours. 
“Why the fuck are you letting him touch you like that?” 
The bite in his voice puzzled you. Theo never snapped at you, so you weren’t quite sure how to react. He almost sounded…jealous. Not that Theo had any reason to be. Right?
“What are you on about? Draco was literally just wiping the foam off of my mouth. It’s not a big deal.” 
Downplaying the interaction seemed to rile Theo up even further. “Yes it fucking is,” he gritted out. “He’s flirting with you, Y/N. How can you not see that?” 
The accusation of Draco Malfoy flirting with you was entirely laughable. Though you were accustomed to Theo’s overzealous tendencies, you usually didn’t mind his overprotectiveness since it deterred creepy guys from making advances towards you. But this was Draco, for Godric’s sake. You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. There was no way in hell he was actually trying to make a move on you. 
“You’re being ridiculous, Teddy. Malfoy was not flirting with me.” 
“Of course he was! Did you not see the way he looked at you? The bloody git was all over you, playing with your hair, touching your lips. I should his bash his fucking head in for even glancing in your direction.“ 
The rest of Theo’s rant was incoherent, a mixture between English and Italian curses that drew the attention of those around you. With a grimace, you tugged Theo towards the back of the Three Broomsticks. He continued swearing as you led him away, dead eyes filled with fury as you ushered him into the bathroom. 
There was a murderous expression on his face as he spewed threats and curses. You locked the door behind you, sighing as you surveyed the angry boy before you. Knowing Theo, his constant ranting would only fuel the fire of his anger. You needed to calm him down before he made good on his promise to pummel Draco into the ground. 
Unfortunately, Theo had already worked himself up to a fit. A frown was evident on his face, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists, the veins on his forearms protruding as violence threatened to spill over. You said his name a few times, but he didn’t seem to hear you. He was too angry to take notice. 
While dealing with an angry Theo was by no means a new occurrence for you, it seemed harder to pull him out of it this time. You had never seen him this furious. A small part of you was mad at his overreaction, but another part of you was oddly flattered that he cared so much. 
Perhaps it was foolish to do so, but you relished in the fact that such a small action could elicit such a response from him. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve surmised that Theo was acting out of jealousy. His possessive behavior had always given you a strange sort of thrill. It made you feel wanted, it made you feel desired, and that in itself was more dangerous than any drug. 
“Theodore.” 
Theo paced back and forth, contemplating acts of violence against one of his oldest and closest friends.
“Theo.” 
He wondered how much trouble he’d get into for beating Draco into a bloody pulp. Would they suspend him? Theo reckoned it would be worth it. 
“Teddy.” 
The sight of Draco brushing foam off of your lips flashed through his mind again, playing on a torturous loop. Malfoy didn’t get to touch you like that. No one got to touch you like that. At least not without Theo breaking every bone in their hand. 
“Oh for Salazar’s fucking sake.” 
You grabbed the front of Theo’s sweater and dragged him down to your level. There was absolutely no thought process behind your actions besides stopping his rant. With your lips pressed firmly against his, you accomplished just that. Theo froze for a second, his eyes fluttering close as you kissed him. The tension left his body, his anger melting away to give room for a different sort of heat to spread through him. 
The minute his body language changed, you pulled away. Theo looked down at you, his dead eyes burning with searing passion. You felt his gaze piercing right through you. There was danger lurking within him. Like he was the predator and you were the prey. You’ve never seen him look like that before. Theo looked…feral. Theo looked hungry. 
“I’m sorry, Teddy. I was just trying to calm you down—”
You reeled back as Theo cupped your face in his hands and smashed your lips together once more. This time, there was no surprise in the kiss. There was just fervent passion, arduous desire, and mutual destruction between you. Theo didn’t kiss you like he wanted you. He kissed you like he needed you. 
As he pinned you against the wall, Theo gripped your hips and pressed his body against yours. The kisses grew sloppy and desperate, the two of you scrabbling for more. You groaned as his erection brushed against your thigh, leaving him the perfect opening to slide his tongue past the seam of your lips. You were vaguely aware of banging into the pictures on the walls, the sound of them clattering to the ground registering somewhere in the back of your mind. 
The two of you were like a tornado, knocking decor and toiletries around as you continued to sloppily make out. You were sure that you were making enough noise to alert the whole tavern. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Theo bit down on your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth as he set you down on the counter. One hand gripped your throat while the other slipped underneath your skirt. 
Theo dragged you closer by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grinded his hardness against your throbbing core. 
“Malfoy couldn’t touch you like this, bella.” The low rasp of his voice sent shivers down your spine. His hold on you was possessive and utterly fucking sexy. Heat rushed between your thighs as his fingers tightened around your throat. “Only I can touch you like this. Do you understand, dolcezza?” 
“Yes,” you answered breathlessly. “It’s you, Teddy. Only you.” 
Pleased with your response, Theo smirked as he ripped off your tights. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head when he rubbed his hand against your clothed sex. He palmed you through your panties, swearing when he felt how wet you were for him. 
“You’re fucking mine,” he growled against your ear while he slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. Slender fingers curled inside of you, eliciting a filthy moan that echoed through the walls. “This is all for me.” 
Watercolour eyes seized the breath from your lungs. The declaration hung in the air with finality. There was no room for question or doubt. Theo was merely stating the truth.
You were his. You always have been. 
Theo withdrew his hand, fingers dripping with your arousal. He refused to break eye contact as he stuck them into his mouth, licking each digit clean. 
You whimpered, pulling him in by his belt loop. He moaned as you impatiently tugged his jeans down, palming him through his boxers. He felt big. Bigger than you’ve ever had before. 
But you wanted it. You wanted him. 
“I need you, Theo. Please.” 
“I’m yours, Y/N.” Theo panted into your mouth as you released his cock from the constraints of his boxers. “Always.” 
You swallowed thickly as you looked down at his impressive size. His cock was hard and throbbing in your hands, precum leaking from the tip. Theo was massive. You had no idea how he was going to fit. Still, the challenge thrilled you. 
Spreading your legs open, you bit your lip as Theo positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. He kissed your lips sweetly before pulling back and nuzzling his nose against yours. 
“Deep breaths, baby.” You nodded, inhaling and exhaling as he pushed the tip in. “You’re so tight. Gonna let me stretch you wide open, bella?”
Tears pricked at your eyes as he breached your walls, stretching you just between the line of pain and pleasure. “You’re so big, Theo. I don't—I don't know if it’s going to fit.” 
“We’ll make it fit, Y/N,” he promised, pushing further in and groaning as your walls hugged tightly around him. “Just like that. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” 
Once Theo was fully sheathed inside of you, his movements stilled. He caressed your cheek and pecked your lips. “Can I move, baby?” 
“Yes,” you exhaled. 
“Good girl.” 
You fluttered at his words and Theo cursed as your walls gripped him like a vice. “Fuck, pretty pussy’s squeezing me so tight. You drive me fucking insane, you know that? I get so jealous of anyone who even looks at you.” 
“I like when you get jealous,” you admitted, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.” 
Theo flipped you over so that you were facing the mirror. As you gripped the marble countertop, he thrusted sharply inside of you and watched as your face contorted into pleasure. Whispering praises into your ear, Theo picked up the pace. He intertwined your fingers together and placed each palm against the mirror.
“Open your eyes, bella. I want you to watch while I ruin you.” 
Your eyes snapped to your reflection, taking in your flushed cheeks and mussed hair. Behind you, Theo fucked into you with a punishing pace. He groaned as he watched himself slide in and out of you, relishing at the perfect fit. It was like you were made for him. As your moans grew louder, Theo stuffed his fingers down your throat and gagged you. 
“God, fuck.” Theo hissed, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. “Harder, baby. You can take it. Let me fuck out my frustrations.” 
“You. Belong. To. Me.” 
Theo punctuated every word with a thrust, hitting the sweet spot within your walls with each rut. 
“I’m yours, Teddy.” You said breathlessly. “All yours.” 
He smiled, placing a tender kiss against your neck as his fingers slipped between your legs. Theo rubbed at your clit, urging you closer and closer to your orgasm. 
“Are you close, principessa? I can feel you squeezing me, milking me dry. Take it all, dolcezza. You’re mine, but I’m yours too.” 
“My hands are yours.” Theo squeezed your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples.
“My lips are yours.” He angled your chin towards him, claiming your mouth with open mouthed kisses.
“My cock is yours.” He drove deeper inside of you, making you arch as you cried out his name. 
Theo swallowed your moans before capturing your lips with his. “My heart is yours, too.” 
“It’s all yours, Y/N.”
Your heart squeezed at his declaration. Nothing had ever sounded more beautiful than Theo pledging every part of himself to you.  
“Oh god. Fuck, Theo. Please. I’m gonna cum.” 
“Cum for me, bella.” 
Stars dotted your vision as the orgasm rocked through your body. Theo kissed your neck, marking his territory, while you squeezed around him. The heat of his touch seared your skin as he held you. If it weren’t for his strong arms wrapped around you, you would’ve collapsed. 
“So fucking perfect,” Theo said between pants. “My beautiful girl.” 
Your name tumbled off of Theo’s lips as he came. It was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. Coming from the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. 
The two of you slid down to the floor. Theo wrapped an arm around you, cheeks red and hair disheveled. His pretty eyes fluttered open as he traced over the hickies and bruises he’d left on your body, admiring each mark gently. With his brows scrunched with concern, he brushed a thumb over the bite mark on your shoulder. 
“Was I too rough?” Theo whispered, kissing over the spot. “Did I hurt you, Y/N?”
You smiled at his gentleness, smoothing at the worry lines creasing his forehead. “No, it was perfect. God, you're fucking hot when you're jealous.” 
Theo chuckled, kissing the inside of your wrist. The playfulness in his expression faltered as concern and hesitation bled through. “Did you—I mean, fuck, did you enjoy it? I didn’t—you still want to be my friend, right?” 
“No.” 
Theo felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He’d fucked it up. The one good thing in his life and he’d fucked it up. You brushed your fingers over his cheekbones, tilting his chin so that you were face to face. 
“I want to be so much more than just your friend, Teddy.” The sigh of relief that he released made you grin. You leaned in, giving him a soft peck on the lips. “My heart is yours, too. It’s always been yours.” 
The weight of his smile made your heart ache. “Now that you know how I feel, there’s no need to be jealous anymore.” 
“Are you kidding? I’m going to be even more insufferable now. I need everyone to know that you’re mine.” 
“They already know, Teddy. We were the only ones living in denial.” 
“We made it pretty damn obvious, didn’t we?” 
“You threatened every guy who dared to even look at me.”
“Please,” Theo started, a smile tugging at his lips. “I saw the dirty looks you gave to the girls who tried to flirt with me.” 
You chuckled. “Okay, so maybe we’re both a little…”
“Possessive? Obsessed? Head over heels insane for each other?” 
“All of the above.” You declared, tugging at his hand. “Now come on, Teddy. Before someone figures out what we were really doing in here.” 
“I think they know, love.” Theo teased. “You were pretty loud.” 
“Like you weren’t loud yourself, Nott.” 
You rolled your eyes fondly as he helped you up. Theo straightened your skirt and smoothed your hair down, kissing your temple. He reached for the doorknob with one hand and linked his fingers with yours with the other. 
Fortunately, there weren’t too many people waiting for the loo. You would’ve been embarrassed to walk out together hand in hand, but Theo made sure that every set of prying eyes quickly found something else to look at. With a cheeky grin, he lifted your knuckles to his lips and placed a lingering kiss upon your skin. 
As you walked out into the main hall, a wolf-whistle rang out from one of the tables. Draco raised a toast in your direction while Blaise shook his head. 
“Can’t believe that half-arsed plan of yours actually worked,” Zabini said. 
Theo furrowed his brows. “What plan?” 
“The one where Malfoy flirts with Y/N in an attempt to make you jealous.” 
“I knew you were up to something,” you said with narrowed eyes. “What an idiotic plan.” 
“Is it idiotic if it worked?” 
Theo shook his head in disbelief. “You’re mental, Malfoy. I truly considered tearing you to pieces.” 
“You’re welcome,” Draco said with a smirk. “Clearly that jealousy was put to good use.” 
The blonde winked at you, making Theo’s fingers tighten around yours. “Oh, Teddy’s going to kill you. This time, I have no plans of stopping him.” 
Draco’s silver eyes widened as you released Theo. “Zabini? A little help here?” 
“I’d start running if I were you, Malfoy.” 
Without hesitation, Draco bolted out the door. You snickered as the blonde disappeared down the snowy street, his platinum blonde head bobbing through the crowd. To his credit, Theo gave him a proper head start. 
“I’ll be right back, dolcezza.” 
“Don’t be gone too long, Teddy.” Theo smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. “And try not to hurt Draco too badly, yeah?” 
Despite his pout, Theo nodded as you tugged him down for a proper kiss. He smiled against your lips before peppering kisses on your nose and cheeks.
“Fine, but only because you asked nicely, principessa.” 
You smiled, watching as Theo chased after Draco. Beside you, Blaise grinned. 
“It’s about damn time.” 
With a flush, you rolled your eyes at your friend. “Oh shut it, Zabini.” 
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TAGLIST
@annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar@moonflowersandsparkles
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cupcakeslushie · 4 months
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Introducing Lita May!
I’d originally introduced Lita to my patreons, but Ive now changed a lot of her backstory (and design), because I was struck by inspiration at like three in the morning, (and was getting fomo from all the other absolutely adorable turtle babies I’ve been seeing)
So we all know Donnie created a mech body for Raph thanks to concept art, but in this AU, I feel like Donnie would be juuuuust morally questionable enough to think creating backup clones first would be a good idea. He wasn’t expecting the small bits of Krang tech he had to incorporate to have such a huge impact, tbh he wasn’t even really expecting anything at all—which is also why he used his own DNA for the trial run, and…since Donnie wasn’t expecting a success, he was pretty shocked at the final result.
Donnie was also only able to observe the first month and a half of “incubation” (tube not egg), but was, unfortunately stuck at another resistance base for so long, when he returned, Lita May had grown a substantial amount and was ready to be removed from her tube (he was back for like two days before she started opening her eyes and reacting to stimulus). She took three months total to grow.
Raph and Leo kinda don’t really know how to react to her. Leo immediately clocks the Krang characteristics and is pretty furious. Raph is just confused, but when Donnie fills them in on the origin of Lita’s birth, Raph’s not too happy either. Neither one takes it out on Lita. Donnie does get a pretty severe talking to. Mikey, Timothy and Cass are so excited, and April is beyond shocked to be named the godmother. The family keeps Lita a secret, but it’s evident that she’s got some Krang in her, and they all know that the other members of the resistance might try to hurt her, and ask Renet to take her. Casey loses his playmate, but he does get to see her every few months.
She’s kept in the dark about her family’s future, and is pretty mad at Renet for not warning her of her anything, and she eventually gets sick of the secrets.
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ladadiida · 10 months
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𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
heavily injured from a battle in the xianzhou luofu, you thought it would be the first and last time you see your stellarmate—but then you wake up in his arms, with him treating your wounds despite showing signs of disinterest in your bond when you first met.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 soulmate au, angst, unrequited love, mentions of blood and injury descriptions, possessiveness, blade's pov, him just taking care of you with a sprinkle of angst
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 stellarmate = soulmate (inspired from stellar jade so original i know) this is actually from the blade fic that i plan on writing but this can be read as a standalone! also, if you get the ts reference in this we are automatically besties. may blade wanters be blade havers
𝐰𝐜 1.8k
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soaking the dirty piece of cloth in the cold water, blade let the icy liquid gather in the fabric before lifting it out and wringing it dry until it became nothing but an improvised damp towel.
it wasn't even guaranteed that it was clean enough to be put on your forehead, since the cloth was only ripped off from your dirtied skirt. however, he had no choice but to use it in the end. your body went into a shock after losing too much blood in a battle between you and some mara-struck soldiers, resulting into a high fever.
with the moon positioned at its highest point in the night sky, blade guessed that it was already midnight, meaning that he hadn't caught a wink of sleep ever since he fled the xianzhou with your unconscious body in his arms and warped to a planet he first thought of. this was nothing new. he could stay up all night and his body wouldn't feel anything at all.
blade approached your resting figure in the small cave you were both currently residing in. observing your face for a moment, which was formed in a deep frown, he brushed away the stray hairs out of your face as carefully as he could, then placed the damp cloth on your forehead.
your fever wasn't going down throughout the evening, with your body covered in sweat and hastily wrapped bandages. your shoulders were bare since your most grave injury was a stab wound near your heart, caused by a sharp blade of a mara-struck soldier, and so he was forced to rip open the top part of your shirt to stop the bleeding.
beside your now wrapped wound was none other than your mark. your stellar mark. blade can only stare at it. even when he was placing a bandage over your wound, he didn't dare touch the area where the mark rested on your skin. until now, he was still in disbelief over the fact that the aeons gave him a counterpart, his other half. after all the torment and pain, he, of all people, was blessed with a stellarmate.
he went over to the bonfire in the middle of the cave, where he was boiling medicinal herbs with water using a bowl he made out of stone. years worth of travelling between planets made him gain knowledge of which food to eat or which plant is safe to intake. emerald-iii wasn't a foreign land to blade; he had visited the planet before twice, accompanied by kafka.
speaking of his companion, blade thought back to the xianzhou while waiting for you to wake up and for the medicine to finish cooking. she must be looking for him right now, maybe even asked silver wolf to track him down. your astral express friends might be searching for you too.
he closed his eyes. the image of you lying in your own pool of blood appeared in his mind. blood was also dripping down the side of your mouth, and your eyes were already starting to close when he found you. the pain and rage and fear he felt all over his body was nothing compared to his never-ending death. and he felt his mark burning too, wanting to seek revenge to the people who hurt what was his, wanting to kill them clean with his broken—
"b—lade?" your broken voice came out in a pained wheeze. you coughed shortly after, throat dry and parched. blade turned around and looked at you. your eyes were barely open, but he can see your confusion and distress. "you're...h-here?"
"fool. don't try to talk. you are currently in a weak state." he scolded, glowering at you with his crimson eyes narrowed in slits.
you shook your head repeatedly, slowly lifting your shivering arms and wrapping them around yourself. "i-it hurts, blade..." you complained as tears lined up your eyes, fingers brushing against your wounded shoulder, "...and it's c-cold."
blade gave you a blank stare. he didn't know what to say to you. it was the first time you talked to each other properly, and the first time you were alone together. but it seemed like you were in a state of delirium, seeing that you weren't scared of expressing yourself.
you whined while sniffing, "so cold...why is it so cold?"
he sighed in defeat and shrugged off his tailcoat, leaving him in only bandages wrapped around his torso. he scooted over to you and covered your body with his coat. "we are in emerald-iii, therefore, the weather is constantly changing. endure it while i finish the medicine."
"medicine?" you asked curiously, pulling his coat up to your face.
blade clicked his tongue in annoyance. "one more question and i will abandon you here."
you were silent for the next minutes as you patiently waited beside him. he removed the stone bowl from the fire, and saw that the water has turned a greyish green due to the medicinal herbs. to further melt down the remaining floating leaves, he gave the liquid a quick stir by moving it in a back and forth motion.
bringing it up to your lips, he commanded, "drink."
moving your head forward, you sipped from the bowl, but you immediately coughed it out. after recovering from the series of coughs, you let out, "it's bitter—!"
"you dare complain when i boiled these herbs for hours just so they become pure enough to consume." blade snapped impatiently, "do you wish to be well or not?"
you nodded quickly, not wanting to anger him any further. "okay. i'll drink it."
it took you a few more tries before you get to take all the medicine down your throat, your face scrunched in disgust by the time you finished drinking it.
without warning, blade scooped you up and placed your head against his shoulder. he started taking off your bloodied bandages, and once it was all removed, he examined the wound. he already cleaned and stitched it up hours ago, but it was still bleeding. it can't be helped. the supplies were sparse and the cut was too deep, and with your fever adding up, he was not sure if you'll survive the night.
sweat began lining up his forehead. gritting his teeth, he took a fresh batch of bandages and started to wrap them on you again.
why? why was he doing this? why was he trying to keep you alive? each time the bandage circled around your arm, blade's movements became more frustrated and quick and rough. he didn't even notice you gazing at him with a dazed expression until you chuckled softly.
blade scowled. "speak if you wish to say something."
"are you real?" you murmured weakly, your hushed voice cracking in between words, lacking the usual gentle tone yet it was still tinted with naivety and awe that it made him freeze. all the frustration and anger was washed away and was instead replaced with confusion to your question.
your eyelids kept drooping down, not allowing him to see the beautiful shade of your warm eyes that reminded him of the brightest stars of the xianzhou sky. it was fine; as long as he gets to hold you like this, your head against his shoulder, your bare skin against his with the moonlight shining over you, then everything was fine.
feeling his heart skid to a stop for a thousandth time that night, blade can't help but to slowly reach out, and although his bandaged hand hesitated to land on your skin, afraid it might tint your innocence with his sins, he allowed himself to caress your cheek. it did not surprise him at all when your face fit perfectly in the palm of his wounded hand, your warmth proceeding to seep through his thin and bloodied bandages. a stray tear suddenly fell down your smooth skin, and this time, he didn't hesitate to wipe it off with his thumb.
"what do you mean?" he whispered, leaning in closer to you. you didn't answer for a minute, your breathing growing heavy.
then you laughed. "i don't know," you said, "i feel like i just made you up."
more tears escaped from your eyes as you continued, "you wouldn't...boil some strange herbs for me, or wrap me up in your coat. or treat my wounds, or even talk to me. you wouldn't want to be near me. you wouldn't do that."
"i have no time for your nonsense." blade replied with the intention of sounding harsh, but it came out weak instead. you smiled at him tearily, placing your hand on top of his.
"we are going to be unbound soon." you assured him, and blade swore his stellarmark was stung the second you said those words, "and as soon as i get well, i will immediately seek the aeons and get our marks removed. then you wouldn't have to see me ever again."
he swallowed, speechless for the first time. unbeknownst to him, he was slowly pulling you closer to his chest, his fingers digging into your skin in an attempt to keep you all to himself. his breathing grew uneven as he thought of you walking away from him, forgetting him, not thinking of him, and you belonging to someone else that wasn't him. his heartbeat grew irregular at the thought of not seeing you again.
blade had the sudden urge to cover up his mark and protect it from the world. it was his. it was his and his alone, and no one was going to take it away from him. not even the aeons.
"but do you want to know a secret?" you continued quietly, your smile growing wide, "if the aeons would give me a chance to pick a stellarmate again, i would choose you."
yes. he was going to keep this mark. and he was going to keep you. ever single person who will lay their hand on your skin will meet the sharpness of his sword, and every single one who will stand in between your bond shall face his wrath.
"i would you choose you, again, and again, and again, until you want me back. until you love me back."
the second you wake up from your delirious state, he'll tell you of his new plans, and he imagined you in disbelief, surprised and hesitant and hopeless but you'll nod and you'll take his hand, and you'll run, run, run, and leave it all behind.
"oh, look at the moon," you exclaimed, pointing a finger to the crescent shaped light, and he ignored the way your breaths were growing shallow each time you talk, "look at the moon, blade. it's so pretty. the moon is so pretty."
blade pulled you closer to his chest and rested his chin on top of your head as a sinister grin started to grow on his lips, along with an unfamiliar flame beginning to ignite in his amber crimson eyes. you were his. you were his.
and not even elio can change that.
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hellfire--cult · 8 months
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Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.
Movie Night
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I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.
wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)
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Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.
You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 
But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.
So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.
When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.
And that sets your fate.
Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 
It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.
You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.
Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 
You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.
And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.
You’re fine. 
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“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 
“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.
“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 
“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 
You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 
Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.
Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.
After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.
He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.
He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.
“I’m sorry.”
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Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 
You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.
Billy Hargrove.
Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.
“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?
“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”
“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.
“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.
“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.
“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 
“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.
“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 
“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 
Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 
It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.
“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.
“Why were you crying?” 
“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.
“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.
“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.
“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”
He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.
“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.
“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.
“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.
“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.
“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.
“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.
“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.
“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.
“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.
You didn’t need more reminders.
So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.
Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.
You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.
“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.
“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.
“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 
“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.
“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.
“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”
A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.
Yet–
“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 
“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.
“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.
“You’re in for a ride.”
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Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.
“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 
“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.
“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.
“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.
So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.
“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 
“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.
News flash, you didn’t like it.
“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.
“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”
You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 
“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.
“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 
“What?”
“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.
“Billy–”
“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 
You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 
“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.
“Can I kiss you?” 
What?
There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 
“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.
“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.
“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.
“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 
You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.
His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?
The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 
He wants to take care of you.
He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.
“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 
He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.
The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 
You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 
Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.
The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–
“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.
“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.
“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.
“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.
“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.
“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 
“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.
“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.
“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.
“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.
“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.
“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”
“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.
“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.
“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.
“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 
“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.
He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 
This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’
He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 
He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 
So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 
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Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.
But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.
“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.
“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 
While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 
You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 
So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.
His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.
“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.
“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 
“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.
“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.
“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.
“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.
“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.
“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.
“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 
“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 
Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.
“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.
“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.
“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 
“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.
“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.
“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.
“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.
“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.
“My turn.”
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A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.
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sillylittlefreakgirl · 9 months
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The trick about devils is that the high-ranking ones are often less concerned with inspiring sin and perversion within mortals as they are satisfying their own. You believed that by identifying the right patron and giving them what they want, you could make a deal with no clever loophole or catch. Make an offer, follow through, and come back unchanged and unharmed. Easy. And you knew just the devil to chose: a Devil Lord of Lust, one of the most self-serving of sins. Pride is too unstable, sloth might never hold up their end, gluttony is insatiable, but a Devil Lord of Lust? That you could handle.
You summoned them one evening to your apartment, offering your demands with clarity. "Beauty and power," was all you asked for. "In return, I offer to enter your service for six months." He chuckled lightly, eyeing you up and down. "One year," he countered. "And I promise you'll not be hurt. Not in a way you don't enjoy, at least." You shook hands, and the deal was struck. You were given a day to get everything in order, pay any outstanding bills, notify your family that you'd be away, and went to sleep. The next time you awoke, it was in a cage.
You noticed right away that your clothes were gone. Every so often a demon would pass by, leering at you through the bars. You also noticed that your were very, very, very horny. At first, you tried to cover yourself up, hide from the observing demons. But a heat began to build in your chest. You ached to touch yourself, to cum. You tried to resist. "Not in while they watch," you tried to think, but it was fuzzy. Strained. You noticed that the demons were naked too. Were they always naked? Looking them only made you hornier, so you tried to look away, but the image of their cocks was buried in your mind. Without thinking, you began to touch yourself, and by the time you noticed, it felt so good that you didn't care.
Against your will, small whimpers escaped your mouth. It felt so fucking good. The noises you made riled up the demons, spurring them to get off too. Cum shot through your bars, covering you, making you feel so warm. Why couldn't you cum? You were so close, so fucking close, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get over the edge. You began to beg. "Please," you whined. "Please let me cum."
Eventually, your hands became too tired to continue and fell to your sides. You lay at the floor of your cage, covered in the cum of a dozen demons, unable to orgasm but so desperate. You didn't care anymore. You needed it. So you pushed yourself against the bars and let them fuck you, their cocks taking turns inside you, filling you with more and more cum. Cocks appeared in front of you too, right before your face, and, without thinking, you began to suck them. God, it was so hard to think with their cocks so deep inside you. But you still couldn't cum.
Eventually, they all had their fill and left you, broken and desperate and unsatisfied, squirming on the floor of your cage in a pool of cum, which you brainlessly began to lap up. Soon enough, a familiar form appeared and opened your cage. You crawled out and immediately offered your throat to the Devil Lord, too dazed to even beg. "My sweet pet," he purred, grabbing your horns. Did you always have horns? "You've been so good. I believe you deserve to cum now." You whimpered in excitement, you tail (tail?) flicking behind you. He led you to a throne where he sat down, stroking his cock. "Have a seat," he said. So you rode him, pushing his cock as deep into you as it would go, screaming as you came again and again, unable to stop bouncing. Your back arched and your wings flared as wave after wave of euphoria ran through you, the sweet release you'd been desperate for for so long.
One year would not be enough. Not nearly.
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purplealmonds · 8 months
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My entry for the banner art contest for the Technoblade Discord server, inspired by a parenting story Technodad shared on Reddit.
More ramblings about process below the cut!
I didn't have time to document much of my process, so I'll be dropping bits of trivia as they come to me.
The contest announcement dropped 08/08, and for a few days I thought I was gonna skip out on it because I couldn't think of a decent idea. But then inspiration struck when I rewatched Tonko House's The Dam Keeper short. I also recalled Technodad's sweet parenting story, so I decided to mash the two ideas together for my entry.
Most of the time spent on this piece was on the 3D modeling in SketchUp! I started modeling on 08/11, and had several false starts before settling on the final build on 08/18. Technodad mentioned in his story that his family lived in a condo in San Francisco, so I referenced the more iconic architecture of the location's residential areas. He probably lives in more modern housing, but I'm a sucker for the old-fashioned aesthetic. Artistic-liberty!
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The theme of the banner art contest was "autumn", so I roughly blocked in the location of two trees which I would paint in autumnal colors. The street lamps were recycled from another banner contest I entered around 2020 for the CrankGameplays server themed after "spring" - I think it's fitting that it's reused in another seasonal-themed contest. Everything else was modeled from scratch!
I wish I documented more of my painting process, but all of the painting was done in a span of 1.5 days while I was recovering from a bug. Normally I'd take at least a week to finesse things, but I was in a rush. I needed to submit my entry before the deadline so there was ample time for upvotes, and I also had a commission I needed to wrap up before next month. I get restless when I have more than one project on my plate, especially when both are time-sensitive!
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phas3d · 4 months
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Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys
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type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute
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DRACO MALFOY
It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts
Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today
He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before
You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is
Academics, you’re better
Athletics, you’re better
Clubs and community, you’re WAY better
He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance
Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad
But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration
It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom
He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds
But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms
From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration
His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it
Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true
He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)
He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything
Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy
Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy
He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy
Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you
He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up
When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy
Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc
But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better
And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him
One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter
Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death
He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years
Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls
He plans to ruin your date and he succeed
He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food
The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up
From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you
But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug
Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again
“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry
So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage
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TOM RIDDLE
Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone
This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭
But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you
He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush
But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way
He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you
But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊
He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you
Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge
But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background
He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence
Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world
And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc
Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours
He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot
So when he follows you, you think nothing of it
But in reality, he’s watching you in depth
Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is
He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned
He listens to it daily :)
Honestly, he’s just like me fr
He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you
If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold
Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence
But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell
He was just trying to get into your pants
But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away
Instantly, he was attracted to you
He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him
He was about to do the exact same thing to you
Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move
Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day
Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭
Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them
Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them
He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more
Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get
Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts
Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received
He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable
He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)
Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are
Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen
Never ever gives up on you, no matter what
Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed
One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out
Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him
But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month
Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength
Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet
If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return
If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates
It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet
Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating
Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple
One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant
But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(
But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating
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THEODORE NOTT
He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that
You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped
And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone
Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you
When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”
He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said
“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”
When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot
Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants
With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years
You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends
He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option
He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful
Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous
He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner
Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you
Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”
You two are basically dating… just without an official title
He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him
Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭
Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH
He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project
Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way
Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him
Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do
Spoils you ROTTEN omg
Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you
He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband
Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum
“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform
He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down
Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them
He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you
Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best
You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did
Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone
Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”
But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you
They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything
But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd
Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit
He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you
He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly
Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him
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read more here! :D
1K notes · View notes
supercutszns · 3 months
Text
bitter to the taste; luke castellan
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series masterlist
wc + pairing: 5.5k, luke castellan x f!reader
synopsis: a sharp blade, a black eye, and (more than) two kisses.
warnings: this is even sluttier than the last one, language, sword fighting, sharp objects, blood/injuries, reader is still a horrible person and so is luke but he's also a loooser, making out, allusions/mentions of sex but no super explicit descriptions, kind of fluffy at the end
notes: i’m starting to hate this bc i think i’ve been staring at it too long sorry if this is not as good as pt.1 but i have plans for this series ok. also READER AND LUKE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE!!! THEIR RELATIONSHIP WILL NOT ALWAYS BE GOOD!!! THEY SUCK!! they are also not real but keep that in mind :) synopsis inspired by crush by ethel cain; designated song for this fic is unpunishable by ethel cain (i’ve got a whole chronological playlist for these freaks like it’s serious)
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You’ve always had a taste for violence. And an equally powerful penchant for sloth. 
You prefer to watch the carnage, not participate. It satisfies something inside you that you know, if it wasn’t for your laziness, could cause something irrevocable. Who the hell has time for that?. You’d rather lie back and watch instead.
This flaw of yours is the only reason you haven’t stirred more trouble, you think. It’s the reason you never attend camp games or sparring lessons. Sometimes, when you do, a dark muscle flexes inside your heart to curl out of its slumber, forming a hunger you don’t have otherwise. The second it starts to pry you have to rear yourself back and tuck the monster in. Banish the need for something more.
You don’t want to feed it. You don’t know what happens if you do. So you let other people do the feeding for you.
Luke cuts through two dummy heads in one swoop. It’s fucking gorgeous. The moon reflects off his sword, a silver sheen casting his face when he’s in the right spot. His brows are set, eyes so dark they blend with the night. Every motion is ruthless. Satisfying. 
You don’t know how many times you’ve watched him like this. He called you out for it last night, but you’re sure he doesn’t know the half of it. The shadows are a sacred cloak to you, and you wait inside them until you want your presence known. 
Meet me tomorrow. 
It runs through your head like a broken record. You can still feel his breath on your lips and your neck is still tender—had to wear a sweater in the blazing heat to hide the marks. Since you were created you’ve accepted a universal truth about yourself: you don’t harbour affection for anyone or anything. There’s not a single thing you’ve felt drawn to or protective over but yourself. It’s solitary, yes, and lonely, yes, but that’s the way you’re supposed to be. 
But you think about last night. You think about the moments between the kisses and the rush. When he teased you against your ear. When his hand brushed a certain spot on your back and something much lighter fluttered inside of you. When you crawled into sleep and thought about him, those were the moments that struck you the strangest. 
His gaze pans over the treeline every once in a while, the anger diluted. Then it comes back twice as hard as he shreds another dummy to pieces. 
He’s waiting for you. Oh, this is rich! A better person would probably turn around and go spoon their offerings into the bonfire the second they understand what they’re doing is incredibly destructive. But who are we kidding? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. 
So you take a step forward, slip out of the comfort of the dark, and the next time he looks to the treeline he knows you’re there. He can’t see you, but he knows. 
You wait. His strikes are less tenuous, much smoother. It almost makes you laugh. Some fucking showman he is. 
Eventually, he buries his blade in the dirt and wipes his brow. “Are you gonna come talk to me or are you gonna stare at me all night like an owl?”
You relish in the feeling of shedding the darkness, coming into the light of the moon. “Hi,” you say flatly, but there’s a tiny smile on his face when he sees you that almost puts you off. 
“Hello, rotten.” He tries to lean on the hilt of his sword but it isn’t quite tall enough so he stumbles. It’s so pathetic it almost makes you laugh. 
“Don’t call me that,” you grimace.
“Okay, back to heathen?”
“Don’t call me that either.”
“Well, you don’t seem too happy when people call you by your name so pick your poison here.” 
You don’t say anything, your mouth set in a scowl. “All right, both it is,” Luke shrugs.
He’s different from last night. Less impatient. You hope it’s not because he thinks he has you now—he’s got another thing coming. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna come,” he says with a crooked grin, neither bashful nor ashamed. 
You’ve made your way closer to him, the soft grass turning to dusty earth. “Don’t know why I did,” you mutter crassly. 
Having abandoned his sword, Luke chuckles wryly. “Yes, you do.”
That bitterness he hides from everyone else pierces through. He tilts your face up like he did yesterday, the press of his fingers beneath your chin almost burning you. You know he’s peering at the marks on your neck. 
“If you made me come here just to hook up with me you’re delusional,” you glare. 
“What, like that’s not why you’re here?” He pushes your face up a little higher, grinning a little when you add resistance. “I’m a gentleman, you know. I can be patient.”
This guy is full of fucking shit.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you snipe. The only point of contact you have is his hand on your chin, but you’re a hair’s breadth away from having everything else. The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you.
He keeps your face still. He’s studying you, and you’re suddenly curious about what he sees. You remember all those looks you’d share at the dinner tables that made this happen in the first place. What did he see then? 
“You wanna fight?”
It takes you a second to react. “What?”
“You want to fight. Pick up a sword, let’s go.” He smiles as he finally lets you go, waltzing away from you to unbury his sword from the dirt. His touch permeates through your skin and you hate it. 
“What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t fight.”
“Sure you can,” he replies, grabbing another sword from the training rack. “You need to burn off a little steam.”
You laugh sharply. “And you think me waving a sword around is gonna do that?”
“Uh, yeah,” he grins. “It’s the method that lets us keep the most clothes on.” 
You glare at him. His smirk is a mile wide. The way your stomach is simmering almost makes you sick; it’s like gorging yourself on candy except this time the candy has a sword and maybe wants to fuck you. 
You just watch as he hands you his sword, and the moonlight glinting off the metal has you believing it’s not the kind used for training. “I’ll use the dull one,” he assures. “C’mon, heathen. I know you’ve used a sword before, they force us to.”
“I usually skip those classes.”
He laughs. You can’t tell if it’s at you or with you. “Of course you do.”
You don’t like following orders, but oh, what the hell. Luke knows something about you, just like you know something about him. You’re only a little curious about it. 
“Straighten your back,” is the first thing he says once you’ve taken your stance across from him. The blunt of his sword reaches out to tap your hip. 
You begrudgingly do as you’re told. He watches you mirthfully, and the press of his sword against you starts to feel like a substitute for his hand. All the closeness you’re hungry for, dampened by cold steel. It still makes you buzz. 
He gives you the barebones—the right grip, how to maneuver, the proper balance. But long gone is his easy disposition. The motor inside him that powered all those dummy beheadings and disembowelments is running again, except this time it’s for you. He wants a fight. This is his battlefield. All right, you’ll bite.
You start to spar with the skill of an overgrown toddler. The sword feels like an unnatural ligament hanging off your body. Luke is precise, convicting, far more enthusiastic than you. “You can do better than that,” he prods after your swords clash lazily for the billionth time. “Stop going easy.”
“You’re going easy,” you shoot back. 
“Yeah, but I’d really rather not. Come on.” 
There’s a moment of hesitation. You think about that dark thing you keep harboured. A muscle aching to be used. 
“Come on,” he says again, and he almost sounds pissed. “All of a sudden you’re playing nice? What are you afraid of?”
Something flares inside you. “Nothing!”
“Then pick up the sword and fight me.”
You huff and roll your eyes, but your next swing is far more inspired. Luke blocks it easily, but you don’t care. “There we go,” he nods. “Again.”
This is more than you bargained for when you decided to come see him. All you want is to make out with this hot, awful person and have him tell you hot, awful things about yourself you probably already know. Why do you have to fight to get it? 
He keeps provoking you no matter how hard you try. Your temper picks up the more you swing, discordant clangs bruising the air, but it’s still not enough. Luke doesn’t let up. Of course the one time you try to be nice, you’re not allowed to. On second thought, why are you reigning yourself in for Luke? The only other person in camp with a real, consuming viciousness? If anything you should hit him twice as hard, since he’s so sure he can take it. 
“No wonder you’re so angry all the time,” Luke heaves out, and it gives you a swell of satisfaction. “You don’t have a proper outlet. Maybe you’d be nicer if you didn’t sit around and complain all day.”
“Shut up,” you gnash your teeth. 
“Just saying, maybe you should do something about it.”
You’re getting lost in the rhythm of the swords, the adrenaline, the sweat passing the scar on his cheek. Every swing you think less and less, and that dark muscle flexes more and more. It feels like home to you. Like a good meal. Your bones ache and the world has darkened, but that rotten pit inside you cracks open in full bloom. 
Luke keeps egging you on but you can’t hear him. Not like he still needs to. You think you’re smiling, or huffing furiously, or both. The sharpness of the sword intrigues you. A million terrible things reflect off its blade and you imagine them, all at once, until you are out of your body and the black hole inside you has properly wedged itself open. 
Luke jabs at you and you bring your sword down with a vengeance. But it’s a little too low. You only notice when he drops his weapon to the side and staggers back.
The fog of violence falters. It fades almost completely when he hisses long and hard, eyes screwed shut, and you see the tear in his shirt. In his skin. 
“Shit,” you say. “Fuck.”
You don’t sound sorry, you don’t think you are sorry, especially when he laughs. It’s a wheezy one through his teeth as you come up to him, but a laugh nonetheless. “Knew you were going easy,” he remarks through a wince. 
You ignore him, looking down at the injury. A  gash across his abdomen. It’s bleeding a little, but not enough for it to drip. You did that. Just looking at the blood, you feel the bitter taste of it in your mouth, the reward a temporary hunger for carnage brought you. This is why you don’t play camp games. 
“I’ve got thick skin. I’m fine,” Luke says casually. “I’ve got a medical kit under that tree over there in case I beat myself up too bad.” He’s no longer scrunched in pain, and you’ve got a feeling he’s telling the truth. So you go fetch the kit where he said it was. You need to wrap that slash. Not because you’re sorry for him, but because looking at it makes you angry. 
You kneel and pop the lid of the small tin kit, covered in dirt. It’s mostly gauze and bandages. Rubbing alcohol too. “Just give me the gauze, that’s all I need,” Luke gestures. 
“Shut the fuck up, I’m doing it myself.” You’ve already torn off some gauze, sitting all the way up on your knees. 
“Most people just say sorry.”
“You pushed me,” you spit back, surprisingly forceful. Luke’s smile drops. You take a deep breath, adjusting yourself to get eye level with the injury. “I told you I don’t fight.”
You’re not sure what makes Luke give in, but he doesn’t say a word as you lift the hem of his torn shirt and he holds it up. There’s no proud remark about your eyes lingering on his stomach, or the hesitation in your hands. You stare at the wound. It really is shallow. Your thumb presses at the skin around it and he winces. “My bad,” you mutter. 
As you sterilize the cut and wrap the gauze around his torso, you try not to let your fingertips cling to the warmth on his skin. You try not to notice the other scars littered there, most faded to the point they should be impossible to pick up even in the sun. It’s obvious he’s staring at you. Your neck is crawling with warmth. But you don’t engage, you just wrap the gauze a few times and do your best not to notice the rise and fall beneath his muscles as he breathes. Then you fasten things neatly and put everything away so you can get up. Any second. Come on. 
“Good?” You ask instead, exhaling. 
“Good,” he affirms. He slides a hand under your forearm and gets you up. It stays there once you’re standing. The night stills. 
“I’m guessing you’re adding ‘attempted killer’ to your list of horrible qualities,” you go on to break the silence.
He holds your gaze unyieldingly. “I’d consider that a pro, actually.” 
You are entirely fed up with this drawn out evening, but you can’t bring yourself to speed anything up any more than stepping closer so your chests brush. “I will give you one, though,” he continues, craning down to your ear. You smell his skin and it sends you back to the position you were in yesterday. 
He finally kisses your jaw, just once, then your neck. You shiver. “You’re too tense.” Another kiss behind your ear. It’s not enough. “Do you even know how to have fun?”
“I don’t want to have fun,” you reply bitterly. I just want to make out with you, asshat.
Luke’s breath frosts over your face when he chuckles, but before he can get any further away you catch his mouth with yours. Almost instinctively his arm winds around you to pull you in closer, your hand looping through his curls. It's a relief, knowing last night wasn't some freak accident. This does feel good, actually, and it can happen. Everything you felt yesterday is only more urgent now, hungrier, and you're pretty sure the way you kiss him gives that away.
He indulges you, squeezing the base of your hips as his other hand thumbs across the marks on your neck. This is so fucking embarassing—you think you whine when he bites down on your bottom lip. You’ve never needed something this bad, you’ve never needed anything. But you press yourself as close to him as you can manage and his hand runs lower, slips against your inner thighs, and it’s difficult to worry about anything else. 
Until he pulls away. Like a dick. 
He doesn’t go far, his forehead pressed to yours, but you feel like pulling out all his hair. It’s a muddling mix of frustration and longing you’re starting to associate with him. “Dude,” you groan, an inner coil only starting to unwind begrudgingly compressing. 
“Let’s go for a swim,” he says. The enthusiasm is almost alarming. Almost makes him look younger.
You’re homicidal. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes, heathen. Let’s go for a swim, come on.”
He’s rubbing circles on your thigh, which only makes you want to strangle him. “But I—I don’t have my bathing suit,” you string out. 
The smile gets more boyish. “Wow, whatever shall we do?”
It’s another challenge. Another dare. And he knows what you want, fucking jerk. You’re going to kill him. 
“Fine,” you grunt, and the second the words leave your lips you’re pulled to the lake. 
It’s a warm, sticky evening, only made worse with the sweat and the half-assed kissing, so the water doesn’t seem all that bad. Unfortunately, you don’t like giving into demands. So you stare ghoulishly at your fingernails as Luke tosses off his ripped shirt and his shorts so he can plunge into the lake. “Aren’t you going to at least come in?” He asks, but you don’t look at him. 
“I don’t like swimming,” you lie. 
“At least your feet. It’s nice, I swear!”
A splash, like smoke moving through wind chimes. You look up and Luke has completely submerged, popping his head up closer to the mouth of the dock. “Please,” he says with such conviction your resolve turns to butter. Gods, what is happening to you? You still need that lobotomy! 
You sigh, roll your eyes, turn your back to him. “Fuck this,” you mutter under your breath. You undress to your undergarments and you’re not sure if you want Luke to be watching or not. The moon touches your bare skin and a chill trickles through you. 
You take a seat at the edge of the dock, knees tucked to your chest. Luke swims over for you right away. His hair is dripping against his skin, and you hate how beautiful it looks. The waterline is high tonight, almost ridiculously so, so he props his elbows up on the dock with no problem. “Come in,” he urges. 
“No.”
“Just your legs?”
“No.”
“Gods, I’ll make it worth it, just throw your damn legs in!” 
Your eyebrows shoot up. His face is stubbornly pink. Oh, so now he wants something. You take your time uncurling yourself and Luke wades away from the dock so you can put your feet in. The water goes up to your calves, and you shiver. “So fucking difficult,” he mutters, and your pulse flickers. 
“Sorry, what was that?” You let yourself grin for the first time all night. 
“Nothing,” he hums. This time when he comes to the dock, he wraps his hands around your calves. You’re pretty sure he can stand here because he stops treading. The warmth of the water seems to spread further, long past the threshold of your knees. 
He rests his chin just above your knee, water pooling on your skin. “Stop dripping on me,” you complain. 
“Sorry.” He fake pouts when he kisses the damp spot. You see, ever so faintly, a diabolic shift in his expression. He nudges your leg with the point of his nose, then kisses it, then starts to move it aside. “Feel bad about teasing you all night,” he murmurs, still with an edge. He presses more kisses on your legs. “I really did want to see you.”
The irony that he’s still teasing is not lost on you. You’re not loving how desperately warm you’re starting to feel. “Why’s that?” You lean back on your palms. 
“You’re a very interesting person,” he quips innocently. His hands are cupping the backs of your calves. He’s pulled you a lot closer to the water, and somehow you’ve just noticed. Another blistering kiss on the inside of your thigh. 
“You’re fucking evil,” you scathe. 
He looks up at you from between your legs. “You have literally done nothing but berate and injure me this whole evening.”
“Yeah, and right after I patch you up you jump in the water for shits. You’re playing infection roulette, Castellan.”
“See? You’re so mean.” He sighs, and in a move that almost surprises you to death, he hoists both your legs over his shoulders and they dangle into the river behind him. “And here I am anyway, making it up to you.”
You are suddenly illuminated on the purpose of this situation. Why Luke is between your legs. Your heart jolts. “Luke, you can’t be serious.” 
“Mmhm.” He leans forward to kiss right under your navel. 
You hate how much you want him to do it again, how your body burns, but you avert your eyes. “Someone’s gonna—someone’s gonna hear us.”
He snorts, “No they won’t. Either this or you come in the water with me. Or both. We’ll see.”
A huge smile cracks across your face before you push it back down. You’re going to spend a lot of time coming back to this moment, this night, wondering why. “What is wrong with you.”
It comes out like a compliment when it leaves you. You want to vanish. Luke chuckles, and something foreign to the both of you buzzes through the air. 
“Are you going to be nice?” He asks against your skin. 
“Are you going to be quick?”
His mouth finds your hip bones and yeah, why the hell would you say no to this? He nods, “Swear.” 
That’s all you need. You let your eyes slide shut and your head tilts towards the sky. Luke takes your permission and runs with it, pries you open with his mouth until the stars soak through the black of your eyelids. 
You discover pretty quickly neither of you are good at keeping promises. 
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The next time you need Luke’s med kit, he’s already awake. 
It’s been happening more and more often. You lurking around camp past moonrise and finding Luke outside his cabin, going for a walk or a stretch or a … something with you. 
“Do you ever sleep?” You ask him sometimes between flurries of kisses with your back against a tree. 
“Could ask you the same thing, heathen,” he squeezes your hips and nips at your neck, but never answers the question. And neither do you, so you’re both okay with it. You’d hate to give up this feeling, but he doesn’t need to know that.
This is the first time in your punitive life you have felt alive. Like a person, with bones and flesh and soul, a real presence. Not a ghost of smoke and shadow. You are real. 
Fooling around makes you feel like an actual teenager. You’re young, you remember when Luke joins you in the dark. You’re having fun. His hands under your shirt and his mouth on your collarbone, the way he bites down and winces when you do something a little too well, when you string out his name and he rewards you for it. You’re both greedy, insatiable people, so there’s a push and pull only the two of you would ever be able to handle. And nobody has to know. Despite all the bruises, the sleepless nights, the swollen lips, all you and Luke share in the daylight are noxious looks, and that's only if he can find you. A perfect crime. Camp Half-Blood’s angel and the vice that lives in the shadows. But in the dark, it’s hard to tell which is which. 
“Luke,” you whisper. “Luke.”
“I’m up,” he grumbles, peering up at you. “You shouldn’t sneak into my cabin.” He was already sitting up in his bed when you slipped in, and he didn’t notice you were there till you were right in front of him.
“Worried someone will catch me? You should know better.” 
He follows you outside so you don’t wake the other campers. There’s a thrill knowing just one interaction between the two of you could ruin both your reputations forever. 
“What is it, heathen?” He asks as the door closes behind him. It’s so dark and your back is turned to him, but his voice is drenched in smugness. “You don’t usually want to put up with me more than once a night.”
“Don’t have a choice,” you mutter, staring out at the camp. You go to chew on your bottom lip, but you wince immediately. “Where’s your kit thingy? The one we used after I impaled you.” 
“You mean after you lightly grazed me?” 
“Just tell me where it is, Luke.”
Your sharpness could cut through any sleepy daze he possibly has. He’s silent behind you for a second. “Why?” He asks.
“Because I need it.”
His hand curls around your shoulder and before you can think to submerge yourself in darkness, he turns you around. When he sees you, his face breaks from something proud to something … you’re not sure you like. “Oh, heathen,” he murmurs. “What happened to you?”
You guess it’s a semi-appropriate reaction, although you expected at least a grimace. To put it lightly, your face looks gnarly as fuck. There’s a bruise on your cheekbone and your lip is split. But what really draws attention is the half-formed, garish black eye swelling up your right side. 
“Just the usual. Pissed someone off.” It hurts the skin on your lip that’s caked with blood. 
He rests his thumb on your unbruised cheek, but somehow it still stings. You know he can’t see much of you in the dark but he tries. The prolonged eye contact without the imminent promise of a kiss feels foreign. “You need to go to the Apollo cabin,” he concludes, brows pushed together. 
A laugh slips past your broken lips. “No fucking shot. They would not help me.”
“Why not?”
“Because one of their shit-eaters did this!”
The words take a moment to register. You see them filtering through Luke’s brain. He blinks absurdly. “An Apollo guy beat you up?”
“Not beat up. Just … tussled.”
“How much tussling earns you a black eye, exactly? From Apollo kids.”
“Gods, just tell me where your kit is so you can go back to fucking sleep.”
His fingertips inch around the back of your neck, thumb still against your face. “Already wasn’t sleeping. I might as well help you,” he shrugs. “I move the kit every once in a while so some other campers don’t ravage it.”
“I don’t need help.”
Luke opens his mouth, then sighs deeply. He takes a firm hold of your arm and starts to tug you along. “Hey, what—” you swat at his arm. 
“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs. “Come on.”
It’s strange. Luke’s never done you a favour before. At least not one like this. You’re disgruntled enough that you had to go ask him in the first place and now he’s dragging you around? “This isn’t such a big deal, Luke,” you badger. “I’m fine.”
“Sure, whatever. Wait right here.” He lets go of you and only then you realize you’re in front of the Apollo cabin. You grimace, and Luke must have noticed because he says, “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna go inside and grab some things. No one’s gonna jump you.”
You scowl at him, and he just laughs. A part of you hopes he hits his head on the way in. You hide anyway. 
It’s a few minutes of waiting in the oppressive summer heat, until Luke emerges from the cabin with his hands full. He looks around, hesitantly calling, “Heathen?” Then again. You move out of your hiding spot and he jogs over to greet you. 
“Nice haul,” you comment. There’s an ice pack, cotton pads, a few miscellaneous items. “How’d you get them?”
He smiles widely. “Everyone loves me, heathen. It’s not hard.”
“…So you stole them.”
“Yes, but only because I’m too tired to talk to people and I’m protesting for your sake,” he rattles off. “Now hold this ice pack before it gives me frostbite.”
The two of you make your way down to the docks again. It’s morphed into your usual meeting place, since the waves lapping at the shore mask when Luke gets a little too noisy just to piss you off. (At least that’s what he tells you.)
He’s stashed his little tin in a different tree this time. After he retrieves it he sets everything out like a chef preparing to make a meal out of gauze and rubbing alcohol. 
Your head has been throbbing for the past few hours. You’re not proud that you antagonized the wrong Apollo kid and got a shiner for it. You’re less proud that you came to Luke for help. Just like everyone else does.
“Come,” he gestures, tugging at the waistband of your pants. You scoot closer to him and swallow the weight of your pulse when he touches you. 
Luke slowly presses the ice pack to your black eye, letting you hold it. “What did you do to earn this, anyway?” He asks, head tilted to the side. 
You’re hissing because of the ice, half-consciously shifting into him. “The usual. Spat at him. Made fun of his daddy a little too much. Tripped him so he landed face-first in his offerings.”
“You did not,” Luke laments as he dots alcohol onto a cotton pad. 
“You’re allowed to say you’re proud of me, Saint Castellan. I won’t tell. You can be mean.” Your voice drips with irony, and you hope it bothers him. The flex in his jaw gives it away. 
“You’re always gonna be meaner,” is all he says back. “This is gonna hurt.”
It’s all the warning he gives before he presses the pad against your lip. The sting envelops you immediately, and your good eye squeezes shut. “Shit, ow!” 
“Stop moving your mouth.”
“Fuck,” you swear anyway. Your lip burns so hard you can feel it in your teeth. 
Luke holds your jaw with his other hand so you can’t shy away. “I’ll kiss it better,” he teases. “Almost done.”
You roll your eyes, but Luke takes the pad off a few moments later. “Serious question. How are you so awful to people all the time?”
A groan tears through your throat with such force your head tilts back. “Not you too! I don’t need a fucking reason, there is no reason. Why doesn’t anyone get that?” 
“I’m not asking why. I’m asking how.”
He’s oddly serious, the caress of his thumb on your cheek far slower. You hate it when people want a reason why you’re like this, just to help them sleep at night. But from the bags lining Luke’s eyes, sleep doesn’t seem to be on his radar. 
“I just don’t care,” you admit, shrugging. “I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about what they can do to me. I don’t care about anything.”
“…What about the Gods?”
It makes you cock your head. “Huh?”
“You wouldn’t care about them, either?”
You think, but only about which words to use. “No,” you decide, “They don’t scare me. They’re nothing. What are they gonna do to me?”
Luke snorts, almost nervously. “Uh, punish you for saying that, for one.”
You turn back to him, ice pack leaving your eye as you gesture. “How? By killing me? Pecking out my eyeballs? Burning me alive? I’m telling you, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. It’s all just nothing to me. I’m fucking unpunishable, I’d like to see them try.” 
Huffing, you look back up at the firmament of stars. Luke says nothing. 
The grass rustles as he shifts, and his mouth ghosts over the bruise on your eye. “Unpunishable,” he murmurs, like he’s testing it out. Then he places an uncharacteristically gentle kiss just beneath your eye. And another just above. “We’ll see about that.”
You get that feeling again, the unbearable lightness in a place it shouldn’t be. Mixed with the poison lodged in your heart. 
Luke kisses you, still so delicate that you wonder if he’s been body-snatched. If anything, your bleeding lip feels soothed against his. His hands cradle your face with no ferocity at all. It seems wrong. 
“How do you feel?” He asks after pulling away, dark eyes nebulous and wide. The night usually sharpens his features. Now, they’ve been hushed.
“Um, better,” you reply. 
He hums, laying a slow trail of kisses on your jaw. “Did you at least get the other guy?” He asks between kisses. “Like, did you hurt him?”
“Not really,” you divulge, wondering if you should feel shame. 
“Why?” He’s made his way to your neck now, nudging your jaw up so he can kiss behind your ear. 
“I’m not a fighter.” And, without warning, for a reason you will never, ever be able to explain, your tongue adds, “I’m a killer.”
Your own brows furrow. Luke pauses for a moment, but knocks his nose against your neck. “Guess one of us has to be.”
There’s no more fooling around. No snappy insults, no feverish kisses, no hunger to be satiated. Luke just checks you over a few more times, hides his med kit, and you both get up to sleep. But his hand wraps around your wrist, far less firm than when he dragged you here. “Stay in my bunk, heathen,” he offers. “Leave in the morning.”
You think you’re making a mistake when you agree, but it doesn’t feel like one. 
The next day, after you’ve left Luke’s bunk, rumours float around camp that Luke Castellan accidentally butted some Apollo kid in the face with his sword during training. Caused a bloody, broken nose. Luke was very sorry, apologized profusely. 
But you know, by the way he takes you behind the stables that night, that he didn’t mean a single damn word.
luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz
rotten taglist: @thaliagracesgf
leave a pm/comment/ask if you'd like to be added to a taglist :)
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prettypearlypisces · 3 months
Text
𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 (𝔪) | 𝔪𝔶𝔤
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𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: yoongi x f.reader
𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: m (18+); MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰 | 𝔱𝔶𝔭𝔢 | 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: complete | one-shot | fluff and smut
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: "I think I can help you sleep better."
𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰 & 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: smut, explicit language, sleepy yoongi struggling with burnout :((( , taking a shower together <3, long hair Valentino yoongi 🧎🏻‍♀️, dick bulge through the silk pants 🫡 , oral sex (m. receiving), flexible dom/sub dynamics (they each take charge at certain points, but it's nothing intense), praise (yoongi calls her "pretty/good girl" 🫠), slight hair pulling/grabbing, face-fucking, finger sucking + a paragraph talking about Yoongi's hands, a lil bit of gagging, cum swallowing, might as well add body worship from how much reader talks about how gorgeous he is, yoongi's thighs ♡, spit/drooling, slight ball play, reader sniffs the balls because she's like that lmao, reader doesn't touch herself or cum, this list is nasty but I promise you they're very sweet with each other 😭, cuddling <3, this is about sucking dick it should not be this long
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: ~4.8k
𝔞/𝔫: hello! this is my first fic ever on this blog. I rewatched all the Valentino Yoongi content recently, saw him looking scumptious in these pajamas, and next thing you know we're here 💀 I haven't written anything this long (that is non-academic) in a very, very long time, so I would ask that you please be nice and bear with me. But I do plan to get better the more I write. That said, I hope you enjoy! 🤍
𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔞𝔰𝔨 | 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 | 𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔴𝔫
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞
“You need to relax.” 
Your voice was insistent but gentle, much like your fingers buried in Yoongi’s thick hair, and he closed his eyes and leaned into your palms as you worked shampoo into his scalp. A quiet whimper escaped his lips as you circled your fingertips against a tense muscle at the base of his skull. 
He was overworking himself again, frustration making his shoulders taut and wearing his patience thin. His eye bags were puffy, exhaustion evident in his eyes. It pained you to know that he hadn’t given himself a break over the past few weeks. Yoongi was so passionate, something you adored about him – but you knew that when inspiration struck, sometimes he had the tendency to push himself too hard, for too long. Now it left him on the brink of burnout. 
That’s where you came in. Yoongi had been glued to his desk before you came in and practically forced him from his chair. He made weak protests as you dragged him out of his home studio and forced him into the bathroom, but he’d shrugged off his clothes anyway as you turned on the warm water. 
Now you both stood under the warm sprinkle while you washed his hair. Yoongi let out pleased purr-like sounds from deep in his throat that made you grin. He reminded you of a wet, docile cat resigned to its bath time. 
When it was time to rinse, you cupped your hand over his brows to block any soap from getting in his eyes as water poured over his head. Then you took your fingers and gently rubbed along his neck to clean him and hopefully melt any tension there. Yoongi held your wrist and gently rubbed his thumb along your skin, his way of giving you a silent thank you. Warmth bloomed in your chest, so you planted a kiss on his fingers – your own silent “you're welcome” that wouldn’t disrupt the nighttime quiet. 
You held him close, rubbing down his chest and stomach with a soapy rag. Thick bubbles lathered from his shoulders all the way down to his fingers before swirling down the drain. 
Around his hips and butt, you were sure to be gentle, even gripping one of his cheeks playfully. Yoongi pouted, whiny, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the red that dusted his cheeks before his face broke out into a small, tired smile. Meanwhile, Yoongi set about reaching down to clean himself. He wasn’t overtly prude but he did always prefer to do this part himself, so you crouched down carefully and made your way down his legs. 
You focused on softly rubbing down Yoongi’s legs and even leaned forward to lay a soft kiss on the skin. You couldn’t explain it, but you adored Yoongi’s thighs. You loved touching them, holding them, kissing them. Biting them. A small pool of heat bloomed in you as you realized that you were now eye-level with his cock too, driving you to give him a more forceful, hungry kiss. The thought of taking him into your mouth, right here and now, crossed your mind, fueled by the simmering image of Yoongi’s head thrown back in bliss, body glistening from the shower water. Unfortunately, you knew from experience that water wasn’t conducive to sex, and the thought of soap getting in your eyes and nose was not in the least bit appealing. 
With great restraint, you pulled away and scrubbed his calves and feet. As soon as you were done, Yoongi hauled you up and scrubbed you down with the same gentle ease as you had given him. He made sure to shield your hair from the pouring water, since you’d clipped it up to keep it from getting wet. Your tummy quivered when Yoongi passed his hand between your legs, a small look of mischief glinting in his knowing eyes when you bit your lip. But he continued his downward path, leaving you feeling warmer than steam. 
A part of you ached, feeling how tender he was being with you, even when he was tired, even when you were the one trying to take care of him. He always was. Yoongi’s eyes flickered down to your face and must have seen something in it, because his eyes were soft when he met your gaze again. 
“I want to take care of you, too,” he said. You didn’t say anything, but the shy turn of your lips was enough to tell him how you felt. 
When you were done, Yoongi shut off the shower and reached out to wrap you in a spare towel, rubbing your shoulders and back all the way down your torso and legs. Then Yoongi deftly unwound the towel and used it to dry himself. You wrinkled your nose.
“You should use your own towel,” you complained, but there was no malice in your words. Yoongi only chuckled and pulled you close. 
“I’m tired,” he countered with a playful whine. “And impatient.” 
A laugh bubbled from your mouth and he rubbed his nose against your temple. Your cheeks warmed when he shifted and you felt a subtle tell-tale poke against your hip, but before you could say anything, he pulled away with a soft rub on your tummy to slip into his pajamas and finish his night routine. 
You were left to do the same, but now you felt anything but sleepy. 
The festering heat that had been lingering inside you now sparked into a deep desire. As you pulled on your pajamas – a simple tank top and sleep shorts – you thought of Yoongi’s hands on you, thought of his skin underneath your own wandering palms. 
Then you chided yourself. Don’t be selfish, you thought. He’s tired. Let him rest. You knew it was true. Yoongi was probably exhausted and would have no energy to do what you wanted, and it wasn’t fair to expect that of him right now. Besides, you reasoned, it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep him up longer than you already had. 
You made your way to the bedroom, which beckoned you with its deep blues and cozy greys. 
Yoongi’s room was a nighttime haven. He liked to keep it as comfortable as possible, with soft carpets and downy pillows. Next to his large bed sat a settee, your robe robe sprawled across it from when you’d tossed it before the shower.
Once you sat on the plush duvet, you almost immediately felt your eyelids become droopy. You were almost glad for the gentle tug of drowsiness, which quelled your desire enough to make sleep bearable. 
Until Yoongi came into the bedroom – and any thoughts you had about sleep immediately evaporated. 
His pajamas were black silk, the fabric sleek like ink against his skin in the low light of your bedroom. He didn’t seem to notice the way you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him while he riffled through his bedside drawer for something. Socks, maybe. You couldn’t be sure, not when your mind suddenly felt hazy as you traced the line of Yoongi’s body down, down until – Oh God, was that the outline of his cock?
Swallowing almost became impossible from how heavy your tongue suddenly felt in your mouth, your eyes hungrily taking in every delicious detail of the man in front of you. His dark hair, the curve of his lips, the small shadow that pooled in the divot of his collarbone, making you want to bite bite bite.
You didn’t know why these pajamas were driving you up the wall, especially when Yoongi had been naked in front of you not long ago, but they were. They pulled your eyes to him and sparked your dampened libido back to life. 
“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Yoongi’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. Dark eyes and a small smirk met your eyes when you finally looked up. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Fuck. He knows.
Embarrassment flooded your cheeks, warm and red. Of course he would. He knew you. He knew you’d been aching for him ever since the shower, knew that you wouldn’t ask for what you wanted because you were supposed to be making sure he rested. But as your eyes fell again shamelessly to his veiled cock, you realized that he was just as needy as you. 
Yoongi’s gaze was the same – knowing, wanting – when you met it again, but the red of your cheeks disappeared as your lips parted in an impish smile. 
“Nothing,” you shrugged as you stood up from the bed, “just thinking.”
You closed the distance between you two, until the familiar smell of him, warm and woodsy, filled your head. 
“I think I can help you sleep better,” you said, your finger sliding up his chest and playing with the lapel of his sleep shirt. The look Yoongi gave you made you want to get on your knees right there and then. 
Yoongi’s breath was warm and sent goosebumps up your arms when he said, low and oh-so-quiet, “Show me.”
I will your eager smirk said as you took his hand. 
He followed you to the settee nestled in the corner of the room and landed with a quiet poof against the cushions when you pushed him backwards and immediately kneeled between his legs. 
A sly glint shone in your eye as you smoothed your hands down Yoongi’s chest, his heartbeat strong and steady, then brought them up and down his thighs over the luxurious slip of his silk pajamas, the fabric the only barrier keeping you from touching his skin.
Yoongi let you take your fill of him, leaning back against the cushions and watching you with amused eyes that made you only more eager to please him. As you worshiped him with your palms, the need to feel him everywhere overcame you. To smell him, touch him, taste him. 
Your hand ghosted over where his cock was hidden, and you nearly moaned feeling the slowly-stiffening bulge. A devious bite of your lip as you looked up at him, your hands reaching for the hem of his pants. “Can I take these off?” 
Yoongi huffed out a laugh, beautiful and bright. The sound made your heart swell. He ran a hand through his dark hair and sunk lower in his seat, spreading his legs wider. “Go for it.”
The pants were off in seconds and pooled around his ankles. Miles of milky white skin seemed to stretch on forever as Yoongi let you run your hands over him; his legs, his hips, his stomach and chest as your hands roamed under his shirt. You quickly unbuttoned it too, leaving his chest bare for you. 
Yoongi’s dark eyes brimmed with budding arousal but still shone playfully as he watched you. A tremor ran through him as you gently scraped your nails down the skin of his navel, right above his cock. Goosebumps traveled up Yoongi’s stomach and a quick glance upwards let you know that his nipples had stiffened, but you kept your eyes on the real prize.
Semi-erect and already stiff at the base, Yoongi’s cock was flushed dusky pink at the tip. Desire coursed hot and molten through you, your hands hot as you shifted eagerly on your knees. You couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth.
Leaning in, you pressed small, fleeting kisses around his thighs, avoiding his cock entirely, getting him worked up from the teasing sensation of your lips on his skin. In truth, it helped hold you back as well. Yoongi’s pretty honey skin always filled you with the desire to mark him up. The temptation to suck on it, bite it, worry it between your teeth until bruises and bite marks bloomed all over him was strong, but instead you settled for gentle brushes of your lips.
Your hands still made their way up and around his legs, soothing and comforting. Closer and closer you made your way up, licking at warm skin. A breathy sigh made you look up: Yoongi’s head tilted back slightly as he looked down at you through half-lidded eyes. 
You lifted your head and rubbed around his hip bones. “Good?”
Yoongi hummed in response, the tension in him melting away as he gave you a slow smile. “So good I’m falling asleep.” 
“Don’t sleep on me.”
“Keep me up,” Yoongi challenged.
You rolled your eyes and pinched his thigh playfully. “Fine, I’ll get to it.” 
Settling in again, you licked your palm and fingers. You heard Yoongi gasp quietly as you wrapped your fingers around him, gently pumping your fist. His skin was hot, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Laying your head against his hip, you watched him close his eyes as he licked his lips. 
“Better?” you asked with amused eyes.
Yoongi nodded. “Much better.”
You hummed, pleased. “Good.”
Once Yoongi’s cock had completely filled out, you took a moment to admire it. 
You remembered, before ever seeing Yoongi naked, wondering if his cock was just as pink as his lips, his elbows, the knuckles of his long, knobby fingers. You had been pleased to find out that it was pinker, especially when erect. 
The head glistened red and sticky with precum. You felt your own mouth start to drool at the thought of it between your lips: the velvety skin, the heavy weight of it against your tongue, the taste of him. 
You rubbed his hips before taking his cock in your hand again. 
“So fucking perfect,” you breathed, the words pouring out of your mouth before you could even think, your breath ghosting tantalizingly close to his tip. Yoongi let his head fall back in bliss as you worked your fist around him, goosebumps racing along his hips. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him splayed out above you, knowing you were making him feel so good.
Feeling bold, you continued to stroke him and leaned down to where his balls hung low. Yoongi lifted his head, eyes sharp as your tongue laved over the velvety skin before gently sucking one of the plump balls into your mouth. You held his gaze, unwavering, matching the intensity of Yoongi’s dark eyes. You hummed, pleased, then smirked slightly before placing a wet kiss where your lips had just been. Then you did the same with the other, rolling it in your mouth gently. Yoongi’s soft tongue poked out to lick at his lips before he sucked in a shaky breath, reveling in the pleasure of you playing with him
Precum slipped between your fingers and filled the room with the slick sound of the glide up and down his shaft. The wet, filthy sound drove your lust to even greater heights, and the whine Yoongi let out when you suddenly stopped stroking made your cunt ache.
His eyes met yours and the smile you gave him was absolutely sinful when you gripped your fingers around his tip to press your nose against the base of his cock. Yoongi covered his face and huffed out a laugh that broke into a strangled moan as you inhaled the clean, heady scent of him.
You hummed lowly. “Fuck, you smell so good, Yoon.” 
A bead of precum dripped from the slit of his cock, and you circled it around the head with your thumb, unrelenting, until it was sensitive and glistening. You relished the way his thighs tensed at the motion, the way his hands tensed, the way he squeezed his eyes shut. A teasing lick to his head. A strangled “shit” under his breath. Fuck, you couldn’t wait to have him moaning, loudly. 
You wanted him, craved the taste of him, the feel of him in your mouth—
“Can’t wait to taste you,” you said innocently, then taunting. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Like me to suck on your cock?”
You licked your lips, watched Yoongi’s eyes follow the movement of your purposeful tongue, then licked up the underside of his swollen, needy shaft. A low moan tumbled from Yoongi’s mouth as he shifted his hips. “Fuck—yes, please.”
Satisfied with his desperation, you brought your mouth down around the aching tip of his cock. Yoongi sucked in a breath and gripped the cushions as you teased your tongue over his slit. The salty taste of precum burst in your mouth. Slick and warm, it coated your tongue. You moaned. This is what you wanted.
After a few moments toying with his slit, you circled the sensitive rim around the crown of his cock, drawing breathy moans from Yoongi’s lips. Then you trailed your tongue down to the spot underneath where you knew he was sensitive and slowly licked it with the flat of your tongue. 
Yoongi had shown you how he liked to tease it with the pad of his finger sometimes while he masturbated – quick or languid, always unrelenting until he’d managed to spurt all over himself. He loved when you played with it afterwards, making his hips spasm from the oversensitivity. More precum dribbled from his tip which you suckled up with deliberate licks.
Yoongi threw his head back and stilled as your tongue flicked over the spot quickly, assaulting it with your tongue. “Fuck,” he hissed, his whole body tense above you. 
Suddenly, a dull pain lanced across your scalp. Yoongi’s hand laced into your hair and pulled your head closer, making you whimper at the rough treatment.
“Down,” he said, tugging again, and holy shit, just one word uttered gently from him had you clenching your cunt desperately like a bitch in heat. Happy to comply, you sunk your mouth down around him, keeping your eyes on him the way he liked it. You held your head low for a moment before pulling off. “Good girl,” he praised with a subtle groan. Yoongi gave you a couple seconds to regain yourself, rubbing soothing circles on your abused scalp, before saying, “Again.”
Eager, you repeated the motion and held your mouth there for a moment, eyes closed as you swallowed around him. When it was time to pull off, you sucked in a breath with your eyes locked on his slick cock. To see it flushed and gleaming with your spit made your stomach twist with lewd excitement. A whispered “fuck” left Yoongi’s lips as a string of spit stretched from his tip to your lips, and you preened when Yoongi reached out rub his thumb soothingly across yourcheek. 
“You look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock,” he said, and you felt dizzy with arousal when he gave you his beautiful smile. He was gorgeous — dark hair and deep eyes and flushed cheeks. Tender touches and gentle praise. The sudden fondness in Yoongi’s eyes clashing with his filthy words and the fact that his cock had been down your throat not five seconds ago gave you momentary whiplash.
Yoongi’s smile melted into something cruel as he dragged his thumb down your mouth, breaking the sticky string of spit, before pushing it past your lips. Feeling cocky, your tongue came out to lick obscenely around his thumb and you moaned around it as if it were his cock. 
It might as well have been; you loved Yoongi’s hands, his long fingers and rough palms. His beautiful instruments, when he was strumming the guitar or playing the piano. You loved how gentle they were with you, brushing back your hair, holding your hands, cupping your cheeks. But you also loved how filthy they could be: rubbing your clit and fucking your wet cunt until it made obscene squelching sounds and dripped down his palm. You felt your cunt drool filthily onto your panties, surely soaked by now.
Two more fingers pressed past the gates of your lips as Yoongi fingered your throat gently. Fuck, such a filthy sight had Yoongi gripping his still-aching cock, groaning at the way your throat tightened around his digits, the way spit spilled from your mouth. 
“So fuckin’ eager, like you were made for me.” Yoongi’s voice rumbled low from his throat, his chest heaving slightly, making you grip your knees. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and tilted your chin up, your hazy eyes now open. A surprised squeak left your mouth as Yoongi leaned down and kissed you sweetly on the lips. His soft hair ticked your cheeks. 
“Just a little more, yeah?” he said, holding your face close to his, and you nodded, dazed. Your eyes locked onto his pink lips that shone with your own spit and his precum. The sight shouldn’t have excited you as much as it did, but it sent a thrill up your spine.
Then Yoongi was leaning back and licking his lips. “Then c’mere, pretty girl, come finish sucking my cock.” 
And how could you say no to that?
It wasn’t long before Yoongi’s wet cock was back in your willing mouth. You circled your tongue around his tip reverently, Yoongi’s hips canting into your mouth when you looked up at him with those slutty, wanton eyes. 
“Good girl—just like that,” he groaned. “Keep going and don’t fucking stop.”
Your pussy tingled and you thought you might be able to cum just from the way the center seam of your shorts was rubbing against you. Even if you didn’t, you would be more than satisfied. You loved making Yoongi feel good, and you loved his cock. You could spend eternity on your knees worshiping Yoongi and his beautiful tool. The glide of him in and out of your mouth was perfect, so solid and warm that you couldn’t help but think about the way it felt when he slid into your cunt, filling you up just right, slippery with your wetness—
God, if you weren’t so hell-bent on making sure Yoongi slept well tonight, you’d push him down and ride him until morning. 
You gagged a bit in surprise when Yoongi gave a particularly quick thrust into your mouth, but fuck it if the sound he made wasn’t worth it. The deep, breathy groan went straight to your cunt, and you moaned around a mouthful of cock. Pleasant vibrations traveled down Yoongi’s shaft and made Yoongi’s grip on your hair tighten. 
“This okay?” he asked, breath strained. Yoongi’s fingers tensed and, as if he could sense the sharp pain in your scalp, immediately went lax.
So considerate, you thought fondly to yourself. You’d be smiling if your mouth wasn’t so busy. 
You brought Yoongi’s free hand to where his other fingers were already threaded in your hair. A garbled hum and a nod was all it took for him to hold your head in place as he rut his hips into your mouth, letting out a string of moans while your fingers played with his balls. 
Spit slid past your lips and dripped down your chin with each of Yoongi’s thrusts into your mouth. You felt so thoroughly used, sitting for him so prettily on your knees, not even touching yourself while he chased his release.
“You’re doing so good, so fucking good,” he said, sucking in a breath, head thrown back against the couch. 
Yoongi’s hand pushed you down until your throat contracted around him, tears welling along your waterline. You didn’t mind though — Yoongi was desperate to cum, chasing blissful orgasm, and you were happy to give it to him. 
As he thrust into your mouth, you licked along his shaft before flexing your tongue to rub against the rim of his cockhead. Yoongi’s hips stuttered and he let out a shaky breath. You peeked up at his blissful face, seeing his half-lidded, hazy eyes. Yoongi was close, teetering on the precipice of his release. His stomach was tense as you slobbered over him, the sound of your slick lips and his voice mingling in a lustful torrent. 
You groaned eagerly, letting your tongue do the work until, finally, Yoongi came. The deep, breathy groan he let out was going to stay with you forever. So was the sight of Yoongi in the throes of his orgasm: head thrown back, thighs spread, skin flushed pink all the way down his neck. The veins snaking up his arms were taut, stark under his skin. 
Yoongi’s brows were furrowed and his plush lips parted. His hips stilled as he pushed you down securely on his cock. It pulsed hotly in your mouth, spurting a thick pool of cum on your tongue, making you moan obscenely. Yoongi’s breath hitched as you closed your eyes and swallowed his seed, palm still cupping his balls. 
Like his length, they throbbed as his cum was spent. You fondled them gently to milk more out of him, not wanting to miss a single drop. You loved Yoongi’s cum — the taste of it, the feeling of it sliding hotly down your throat and settling deep in your belly. Your eyes became glassy at the thought, a dopey smile spreading across your lips. 
Yoongi gently slid himself from your mouth to paint your lips with the last drops of his cum, watching you reverently drink everything he had to offer until there was nothing left. Feeling naughty, you licked across his overstimulated tip one last time, and Yoongi shuddered, his thighs closing around her head. 
“Brat,” he huffed, but he was smiling. Your smile was just as bright as you swallowed the sticky mess on your lips and lapped at his cock with little kitten licks to clean him up. A kiss was planted on his knee before you pulled up his pants and tucked him away. “Only for you,” you said with a pat to his thighs. 
Yoongi re-buttoned his sleep shirt and pulled you up into his lap to smooth down your unruly hair. He gently ran his fingers across your chin, wiping away the mess of his escaped cum and your spit. Then he kissed you. You hummed happily against his lips before Yoongi pulled away.
“Thank you,” he whispered, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “You always make me feel so good.”
It was amazing, really, how you could suck his cock so unabashedly on your knees, but the gentlest words from his mouth had you blushing shyly. 
He took your hand in his and led you towards the bed where he pulled you down with him, his frame enveloping yours as the comforter fell over you two. Yoongi intertwined your fingers and rubbed his thumb across the back of your knuckles. 
He was always like this in the afterglow of whatever you two did – affectionate, attentive, a bit sleepy. Yoongi was, at heart, a passionate, considerate lover who thrived on soft and tender moments such as these. You could never get enough of it; the way he touched you, how tender and safe he made you feel. 
He rubbed his nose against your hair and slipped his hand across your stomach, solid and warm. 
“You didn’t cum?” he asked, and you shook your head no. Yoongi drummed his fingers soothingly against your skin. “You want to?”
The offer was tempting, but you felt yourself close to crashing now that you had burned through your lust, and although you couldn’t see him, you knew Yoongi must have been even sleepier than you. 
You brought his hand close to your chest and kissed his fingers sweetly.
“Later. I’m sleepy,” you said, then sighed. “Besides, I feel like I need another shower.” 
Indeed, a cool layer of sweat now covered your skin, along with some spit and cum that had dripped onto your chest. Not to mention how sticky your panties felt in your shorts. 
Yoongi chuckled sleepily and tightened his arm around you. “Okay,” he agreed, holding you close before his fingers ventured down and pressed over the seam of your shorts. He rubbed a slow, deliberate circle over your clothed mound, a teasing phantom touch that reminded you of the pleasure he could give you with those fingers. His lips were hot against your throat, and you shivered as he gripped your hip in his free hand and said, so close to your ear that you shivered, “Later.”
The thought of his head between your thighs, suckling on your poor pussy while his deft fingers prepared you for his cock, flooded your mind. You could only imagine soaking him down to the base as he slipped inside you, making you roll your hips against his fingers. 
You nodded quickly, breathily. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” 
Yoongi’s breath was like a balmy breeze on your neck as he chuckled. “Thought so.” He placed a kiss under your ear before snuggling close, finally letting himself sleep. Your own eyelids fell shut, and Yoongi’s heartbeat lulled you like a gentle rhythm in your ear until sleep overcame you too. 
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞
Copyright © prettypearlypisces. Do not copy, rewrite, repost, translate, or otherwise alter or claim on any platforms.
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devildomcuties · 17 days
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Obey Me: Climb into Bed [Dateables]
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🕷 pairing: diavolo, barbatos, simeon, and solomon x gn!reader
🕷 wc: 961
🕷 summary: Unable to sleep, you sneak out of the House of Lamentation
🕷 warnings: making out, pet names (my love, sweetheart, babe, little one, implied smut, oral sex
🕷 a/n: I don't know what to call this line and I'm not fond of calling them side characters, so from here on out they will be dateables and the brothers will be demon brothers :)
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Diavolo 
“Barbatos wouldn’t approve of your late-night shenanigans,” Dia says as he rolls over to see you at his bedroom door. 
“How did you know it was me?” You ask as you shut the door and head towards his bed. Diavolo sits up, moving the covers to welcome you into his bed. 
He’s shirtless, and in the glow of the lamp on the bedside table, you can make out every delicious ridge of his torso. 
“You expect me not to recognize the footsteps of the love of my life?” Dia asks as you strip your pajamas and climb in beside him.
You smile, melting into his side as his arm drapes over your waist. You lock eyes with him, bashful as he looks at you for a few moments in silence. 
Diavolo leans in, capturing your lips with his own. His large hand cups your cheek, and the other moves down to your lower back. Your leg ends up between his thick thighs, moaning as you rock up and down on his thigh. 
“Barbatos is going to kill me tomorrow,” Diavolo whispers in between saccharine kisses. 
“Why’s that?” You respond as his lips kiss their way down your jaw toward your neck. You grip his broad shoulders, cursing when he rolls on top of you between your legs and you feel his hard cock against your thigh. 
“Because we won’t be getting any sleep tonight, my love,” Diavolo grins as he kisses your lips again, moaning your name softly. 
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Barbatos
“You really shouldn’t be in my bedroom this late,” Barbatos’ voice startled you as you shut his bedroom door. 
Across the room, he stands in nothing but a towel as his hair drips slowly onto his shoulders. You follow a drop of water running down his chest until it disappears into his teal bath towel. You gulp, pulsating as you blink, forgetting what he’s said. 
“Sweetheart?” Barbatos takes a few steps toward you while you try not to drool over his perfect physique. He smirks when he catches your gaze, your cheeks flaming hot.
“Yes?” You blink as he cups your face, his thumb tracing your lips. He doesn’t say a word as he kisses you, leading you to his bed where you fall with a gasp. 
Barbatos is on top of you, kissing your neck and helping you out of your pajamas before he drops his towel. His hair is still damp between your fingers when you tug it, pinning his face to your neck as he licks the column of your throat before his teeth sink in. 
“Barb!” You gasp, arching into him as his hands settle onto your hips. Your legs wrap around him as you pant, moaning when he moves lower. 
“I suppose the Young Master shall have a late start to his morning tomorrow,” Barbatos chuckles. “For I will be busy attending to your every need tonight.”
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Simeon
“Baby?” Simeon looks up from his journal when he hears his bedroom door open. 
“Hey,” you wave shyly. 
“You shouldn’t be out so late,” Simeon scolds gently as you approach him. He closes his journal and sets his pen on his desk. 
“I couldn’t sleep. I sent you a message on the D.D.D. but you didn’t respond,” you explain. 
Simeon blushes as he reaches for the device. He was still learning how to use it and knew better than to ignore it when it pinged but inspiration had struck and he’d been writing since after dinner with Luke and Solomon. 
You take Simeon’s hand, leading him to the bed. Simeon takes his shirt off, tossing it onto the desk chair as you lift the covers and slide beneath them. He joins you a second later, pulling you to him. His dark hair falls over his eyes as he leans in to kiss you. 
“Did you miss me, little one?” Simeon teases as he kisses your jaw, cheek, and earlobe. “Couldn’t sleep without me next to you?”
“I wanted you to come to me,” you answer him, your hands running over the broad expanse of his back. “Wanted to feel you, kiss you, devour you.”
Simeon groans, moaning your name as he pulls you on top of him. His hands grip handfuls of your ass, kissing you deeply as you grind down on him. 
“Well, you’re here now and I aim to please,” he whispers before he kisses you again, his fingers unbuttoning your top easily as you grind on him once more. 
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Solomon
“You know, I could have just popped into your bedroom instead?” Solomon smirks as you appear in his bedroom beside his bed. 
You jump, not expecting him to be behind you. 
“I tried sneaking out first but Lucifer caught me,” you sigh as you climb into bed with him. “I had to barter with Satan to get a spell book.”
“Resourceful,” Solomon laughs as he pulls you to him. “Next time just call and I’ll be right over. You know Lucifer won’t be able to keep me from you.”
“But isn’t it more fun to sneak around?” You grin as you kiss Solomon. He moans as you push him onto his back, your legs straddling his hips. His hands find their place on your ass.
“You do love the thrill of danger,” Solomon whispers as you kiss your way down his shirtless body. When you reach his sweatpants, you run your hand over his erection, licking your lips before tugging his sweatpants down with his boxers. 
Solomon curses, eyes shut as you wrap your lips around him. His heart rate spikes, pleasure coursing through him as you take him into your mouth. 
His fingers thread in your hair, moans escaping his pretty lips until he’s nothing but a puddle of lust underneath you.
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©devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.
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safetypinxtales · 3 months
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400 years | Azriel
summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.
words: 3.2k
warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description
notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍
masterlist
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Thud.
The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either. 
But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel. 
The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks. 
“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”
Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles. 
That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries. 
“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.
Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.
It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites. 
Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.
You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy. 
The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.
It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.
“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes. 
“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about? 
“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”
The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.
“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”
Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room. 
The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic. 
Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.
“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands. 
Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.
“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”
“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. 
“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.
Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…
You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–
“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up. 
“Is that Rhysand?!”
At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you. 
The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord. 
You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics. 
“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!” 
The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.
And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….
“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.
The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look. 
“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.
His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.
“Oh, please.” 
The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.
“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”
Nothing?
From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.
“What? Like you can do better?” 
Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.
One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours. 
He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.
“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.” 
The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa. 
No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating. 
You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement. 
He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…
You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield. 
His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours. 
“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.
You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”
With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks. 
“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away. 
With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled. 
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…
You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you. 
Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him. 
Let me be your muse.
His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…
Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking. 
The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing. 
A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother. 
The reality?
Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him. 
Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.
Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment. 
You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers. 
You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.
It made it annoyingly hard to focus. 
The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped. 
“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his. 
Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”
400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes. 
“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist. 
That is a very long time.
Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl. 
“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before. 
It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong? 
You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.” 
Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat. 
Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye. 
The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes. 
It took your breath away.
“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.
You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head. 
His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet. 
“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.” 
That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face. 
“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.
His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.
That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.
There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you. 
So dangerously close.
He was your friend. 
Right? 
“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.” 
You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.
“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.
“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”
You froze. 
The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.
Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth. 
Azriel loved you?
Azriel loved you. 
The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his. 
The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage. 
He was everywhere.
The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible. 
You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air. 
You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest. 
“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness. 
He swallowed, “It is.”
“So is mine,” you revealed. 
“Yes, I can hear it.”
Oh. 
“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out. 
Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his. 
This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.
His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.
Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.
This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.
It was claiming.
And so you let him claim you. 
Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.
A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.
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