Apparently, Ishigami Senku, renowned and revolutionary scientist who “brought back the modern world” had a little cave accident and landed straight on his head.
He was labeled missing by co-worker Asagiri Gen who, when interviewed and questioned, answered profusely. ‘I knew it was right to put in the missing person’s eport-ray! There was never a time when he wasn't at his lab for more than two hours!’
Turns out Ishigami is a complete dumbass, instead of relying on professionals to go and dig out whatever needed material he wanted. He decided to grab the ores by himself. The day he was found, a few workers in the same cave were questioned and pointed out that he arrived at the west side of the cave at 6:24 A.M and reported that none of them had seen him exit.
When they never saw him resurface through their end— and also because the west cave and the east side are connected, they assumed that he exited through the east way simply because it was designed to be a proper and safer way to navigate incase of emergency.
At 8:04 A.M Gen filed the report, and before the time reached 10 everybody close to Senku or working with him was aware of his sudden disappearance.
When the worker’s found out about him vanishing, they knew he was trapped inside the cave when they questioned the east side and they never recalled seeing him exit. Experienced miners were requested to search the mine and traveled 100 meters deep that day, but they came back with no results.
The second day they increased their efforts and went 300 meters deep, this time aided with a man named Shishio Tsukasa incase of any emergencies. This search was unsuccessful as well.
At 7:12 P.M the same day however, Ishigami Senku somehow reaches the east mine entrance alone, limping on his left foot with a fractured ankle and heavy bleeding and trauma to his head. He was escorted by medics that were told to be onsite in an ambulance and was taken immediately into surgery. When told to resurface, Tsukasa and the others decided to follow the blood splotches on the ground and traced it from nearly 400 meters deep. They soon found that it ended at the bottom of a high drop that was usually surrounded by light.
How he fell, made it out, or even survived was a question that lingered even two weeks after the whole freak accident. Even now as he works in his lab, performing his only regulated 30 minutes of work. The words of his colleagues were more focused on him rather than the work.
He…
I felt required to use the word He.
He, Ishigami Senku, is me.
And yet I have nothing resembling him other than his attitude and brains.
At least that’s what– my mind draws at another blank, the guy told me his name already, so why can’t I remember it?
C-Cra… Ca… Cray?
“I saw these from the coast and I came running! Because that’s what I do!”
Loud is what comes to mind, I wince at the foggy memory and my head throbs.
“Hey! My name is…”
Chrome.
… That’s what Chrome told me.
A loud ringing sound came from the small alarm on my desk, I shut it off and attempted to ignore the increase of whispers and stares undoubtedly talking about me.
This means my thirty minutes are up. So I pack my things and swing my bag over my shoulder.
Eyes linger on me until I exit the building. It took nearly two hours and a half to memorize the whole institution without someone immediately recognizing who I was and offered to help.
If that wasn’t long enough, spending a whole week in a hospital recovering felt like torture. And I spent the whole next one persuading Dr. Xeno I could actually function properly without a guide.
“We can’t risk you injuring yourself again.” The man folded his arms, he of course, naturally had a stern look on his face. It fit him perfectly. “You’re lucky I won’t put you on suicide watch.”
I wasn’t sure if Ishigami Senku was planning to kill himself, he should know of all people on this planet not to explore as deep as he did alone. Of all things.
The smartest man in the world made a mistake so inexperienced and reckless the man closest to him in his workplace wanted to put him in suicide watch– despite me having lost all motives or memories on why he would commit such an act.
“I want to do this because you need surveillance. If I do, you’ll be monitored by Kohaku. She’s especially worried about you.”
Kohaku. No birth surname. She’s that blond woman with piercing cerulean-blue eyes and a fierce smile. She was introduced to me as chief of the police force, nothing more.
When she first laid eyes on me hours after I woke up, she couldn’t stop fiddling with the silver ring on her fourth finger resting on her left hand no matter how hard-nosed and rigid she tried making her face seem. It was awkward, but it was seemingly easy to ignore.
Entering the police station was much less overstimulating than the laboratory. They were still staring at me, but they at least tried to make it less obvious.
My eyes are drawn to the woman leaning on the front desk talking to the other woman behind it.
“I mean… basically yeah! I haven’t told him yet, however, I…”
I find my feet stuck to the ground, a lump grows in my throat and my head throbs unlike the ones before.
“Agh, fuck…” I groan lowly and grip my forehead, a ringing fills my head and I felt as if I was going to pass out if it didn’t stop soon.
I could see the receptionist point towards me in shock and Kohaku whips her head and rushes to my side.
“Senku!”
Damn… the ringing pitches and at this point the only thing keeping me upwards was her grip around my waist. She takes hold of my shoulder with her other hand and now I could feel the eyes of everyone looking at me.
It was another tinnitus attack and what feels like the worst cluster headache in my life.
After a while it feels as if I'm walking on air, I have no idea where she was directing me as I’d closed my eyes a while ago due to the light spiking my headache.
“My meds.” I wheeze out once I feel that I'm sitting down on something.
“Right!”
When she removes the bag from my shoulder and I hear the rustling sounds of her looking through it I groan and clutch at the side of my head. Hoping she’ll be a little bit faster.
“Got it!”
She dropped a pill and water bottle in my hand and instantaneously I swallowed both. A shudder leaves me along with another wince and Kohaku grips my knee and shoulder comfortably.
“It should fade soon…” She murmurs softly, I let out a shaky exhale, praying that it does.
And it did.
She’s silent throughout it all, slowly rubbing my shoulder. The stinging in my eyes, pressure in my ears, the piercing high-pitched ringing— all of it eventually faded away. So does my headache, but it takes a while longer and slowly disperses with one last pulse against my forehead.
I slowly open my eyes and… back to normal. I blink a couple of times just in case and soon I huff in disbelief. “Well… fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck.” Kohaku chuckles lightly. “Welcome to the modern world.”
I look at the surroundings around me and figure out pretty fast that she took me to the park close to the police station. No eyes to stare at me worryingly, no hurried whispers between colleagues when I enter a room— none of that.
Just birds tweeting and the sounds of cicadas chirping.
“Is this what it feels to be at peace?” I utter purely out of incredulity, a stupid statement to make, I doubt Senku would ever say something that silly. Maybe I just want to hear her laugh again.
She stares at me with widened eyes before she bursts into small giggles. I swallowed and felt my chest clench.
Heart palpitations?
“I guess you could say that… pffft!” She giggles again, her face is softly flushed a pinkish-red and she’s doing a terrible job at staying professional.
When she settles down, she lets out a breathy sigh and the woody park is silent again. There are no kids here as school’s currently active, however as it’s friday undoubtedly the park would fill up when classes are over.
I find myself gazing at her in the corner of my eye. She'd removed her touch on my knee and shoulder but it still lingers like a phantom.
“I used to go to this park a lot a year back.” She finally speaks, way lower than her previous tone. “I stopped going when It got easier to cope.”
Even an idiot could tell she was talking about death, something I narrowly avoided myself. I silently debate if I should poke further before opening my mouth to speak. “Mind if I ask what happened?”
Kohaku's breath hitches at the question, her eyes flickering from the playset and towards me. She reacts to that harder than I expected and I can’t even mutter a word before she speaks.
“Senku… last year I had a miscarriage.”
Oh.
Oh fuck…
Her teary eyes desperately search in my eyes and I can tell that she's just praying that her husband would come back and just tell her it’s okay.
But I'm not him, and I'm not sure when I'll even be him again.
“K-Kohaku, I’m sorry…” Is all I could say.
Pathetic.
She whimpers as she finds that her efforts are for naught, so she sharply turns her head away and fiddles with the silver ring in her lap again.
The initials on it read: I.K
Ishigami Kohaku. No birth surname, of course she has no maiden name because she’s married to me.
More so, Ishigami Senku.
This resolution makes me nauseous. I swallow harshly and look away, quickly squeezing my eyes shut.
Forget, forget, forget.
Why would he try killing himself and he was married to someone as beautiful as her?
Kohaku takes in a huge gasp of air and claps her hands together. The sound makes me snap to look at her just to find out that she’s now standing up with a bright grin on her face.
Her eyes are red… I made her cry… I note unconsciously and I regret it as I can't seem to hide the guilt on my face when she stares at me again and her smile falters slightly.
“Okay!” She shouts into the air, her sudden boisterous energy makes me stiff. “Today, I will make it my goal that Ishigami Senku WILL smile!”
…Huh?
I stagger as she takes my hand and yanks me up. “What are you…!”
“Cmon!” She grins, leading me out the park with a pep in her step. “We’re gonna have fun today!”
Fun? “We aren’t children!” I shout after and nearly trip over my own feet as she picks up the pace. “S-Slow down!”
“Being an adult has never stopped me from having fun! That’s one thing you should keep in mind!”
Kohaku snorts and giggles when I trip on my feet again, she playfully rolls her eyes and scoffs. Before I knew it, she’s carrying me up in her arms and starts racing down the sidewalk as if it were nothing.
What the fuck? The air is knocked out of my lungs as she barrels around the corner.
“Pfffwahaha!” Finally she bursts into full-blown laughter at what I can only assume was my face as we both bundle down the street. The feeling of the wind hitting my face makes my chest pound— was it heart palpitations? No.
This was exciting. I couldn’t stop the smile from growing on my face whatsoever. Kohaku notices it when she hears me laughing alongside her and starts giggling twice as loud.
She takes me to a movie theater, then a music hall, and lastly a crowded skating rink.
At this point it’s already 10 P.M and they both are way past their curfew, so she offers to walk me to my temporary dorm room.
“Oh my god!” She snorts, I could feel my face tinge red with embarrassment. “You absolutely suck at ice skating!”
This is the fourth time tonight she’s bringing this up!
“Oh, lay off!” I huff jokingly and Kohaku genuinely looks hurt, my breath hitches.
Soon however, she snickers and my shoulders untense. “Oh you softie, you totally fell for it.”
“Yeah well! I haven’t–!”
I went to quip back, but the moment we turned the corner we reached my apartment. It’s silent as we walk towards the building, if only the day was longer. That way they could both talk and laugh for longer. She follows up the steps yet stops half-way when I make it to the top and smiles.
“Well, that was fun.” I turn to look back at her and smile back warmly. “You got me to smile, too.”
I see her shoulders tense and I immediately worry if I said something. “Shit. Did I do something wrong? I know I'm not him– I mean, I am him, but I don’t think like him. I lost my memories because I decided to do something fucking stupid and leave you alone and–!”
“You knew?”
My rambles are cut short by her voice. Instantly my throat closes up and I’m left to wonder what she means.
“Knew what?”
Her eyes are watery but no tears spill. “That we’re married.”
It’s silent for a while and her cerulean eyes are piercing as she stares into my eyes. I nod softly, not quite trusting my voice underneath her gaze.
“When did you learn that?”
I pause for a second, thinking carefully of which words to use then finally speaking. “When I first saw you, you couldn’t stop messing around with your ring and at first, I couldn't clearly read the initials. When you did it again at the park today, that's when I was able to read it clearly.”
Kohaku hissed in some air, and I winced at the reaction, obviously that wasn't a good thing for me to remember.
“Dr. Xeno’s is going to merk me.”
“Huh? Why?” The panic in my tone was abundant, but she smiled and shook her head. Kohaku sighed a little, waving off my worry.
“He already told me to take the ring of the day we met again. He was concerned it would create a not-so positive reaction.”
“Buuuut.” She grows a grin again. “It’s alright. You didn’t have a panic attack or fade off into space. So he’ll be chill for the most part. Maybe. Hopefully.”
This time, the silence that drifts between us is comforting, but obviously it can’t stay like this and eventually she claps and breaks the pause.
“Welp! It was fun!” She giggles and my mouth goes dry, the idea of her going home alone twists my heart. “Goodnight!”
“Goodnight…” I leave her off with a smile and waves her off– because the thought of her leaving with the impression that she failed trying to make me happy made me restless.
Ishigami Senku is coming back– it doesn’t matter if he wants to, or not.
fluff, university au, probably wrong chemistry, probably wrong terminology. 3k
Senku has a sweet spot for you. Not that you noticed, assuming in an innocent way that he did this for everyone. He sure as hell didn't spend his Sunday slaving over perfume oils and perfumery lessons just for the next guy.
"Why did I ever agree to you?" He moans at himself as he checks the temperature on the reflux equipment. Refluxing takes time.
And as patient as he is, after something that takes four to six hours fails twice, it starts getting ridiculous.
Turns out, even with the right equipment, science sometimes just doesn't like to follow the laws of the world. There is no way on earth his setup could ever be wrong. So, leads the question, why was he getting such an acidic pH?
For the past few hours, he had been attempting (unsuccessfully) to obtain ethyl vanillin as a base for his perfume replica. One that you cried for weeks on end about being discontinued before you had the money to buy more. One that seemed to follow you in every single room you went into. One that Senku actually liked on you.
"It would just be better if you exploded right now," he muttered to the reflux condenser, a slight desire to turn the flame to the max and cover the top of the condenser so this could be done and over with and considered an utter failure.
As the mixture bubbled and evaporated into itself, he stared into the abyssal liquid for an answer at his woes. If only he had a magical fairy that would make this for him. Even if all it did was measure all the powders and liquids. He looked on eBay briefly to see if he could find it, but the only listings were half used to far too expensive.
And suddenly: Bingo! Why was he the only one that suffered right now?
Picking up his phone, he quickly dialled a number as he kept an eye on the round bottom flask, making sure it didn't suddenly turn rainbow.
"Helloo?" You responded.
"Yo. Come mine. Now." He hung up promptly. At least as promptly as he could with nitrile gloves, so there was a pause on the phone as he tried to get the screen to register. You heard his finger bash against the phone screen before the call ended.
At least there would be someone to act as his guinea pig to mix the irrelevant stuff as he did mass calculations.
You lived in a student house around thirty minutes from him. So, being you, you arrived an hour after. He'd called you when you were in pyjamas, with drool still on your cheek from when you woke up. You begin to knock on the door, but before your fist even hits wood you're dragged in by your wrist. Suddenly, you donned a white lab coat, safety goggles and blue gloves. Strangely enough, he seemed to have a coat that fit you even though you two were completely different sizes.
You look onto the scene in the kitchen. An array of glassware litters the counters, placed on top of the microwave, table, and the clean ones on the dish rack. There was some stuff bubbling, but you didn't know what it was.
"Hey, don't you share this place with Gen and Chrome? Are they okay with you turning their kitchen into a science lab?"
"I treated them to take-out already, they'll be fine. Anyway, you came at the perfect time. Mixture's done refluxing and cool, so pour it into that beaker for me."
You give the leek-haired man a blank stare.
"Dude, I haven't done chemistry in, like, forever."
"Neither have I. We both do mechanical engineering, remember? Just grab the clamp and pour it."
"Fuck. My beautiful face is gonna get scorched or something. I feel it."
Trying to follow his instructions, you grab a clamp from the far side of the room and take the warm round flask pouring its reddish-brown contents into a beaker.
"Hey, is this my perfume?"
"Bingo."
"Looks like. Uh. Shit."
"It's not even half way done, stop complaining."
Senku grabs a pipette and takes some of the mixture, haphazardly testing it over the kitchen counter against pH paper. Then again, you didn't know any better.
The paper turned a purplish-blue colour.
"Is that good?"
"Thank God. Finally, you're my good luck charm."
You give out a small 'yay' before you find that your limbs are way heavier than when you came in. Your eyelids feel like 10-ton stones taped onto your eyes.
"Senku, I'm so tired," you wail out, trying to shake your body awake. The genius glances at you and clicks his tongue, as if in revelation, grabbing a mask that had been thrown onto the counter and slapping it on you.
"Sorry, I used chloroform as a formylating agent. Thought it left by now."
"What...?"
"Chill, I'm like immune by now," he nonchalantly states, finger rubbing the outside of his ear, "Plus, the windows are open."
"Ugh, I knew I shouldn't have come here. Maybe you're a serial killer and this is how you finally murder me."
"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead by the time you stepped in. Actually, before you even stepped in. I'd put some nerve agent on the door waiting for you."
"You're so mean!"
"Shut up. Grab the acid and pipette it slowly into the mixture."
"Why am I doing this now?"
Your complaints fell on deaf ears, as Senku leaned against the counter, you began pipetting small amounts of dilute hydrochloric acid into the mixture. Although you couldn't see his gaze, the thought of him watching you so closely started embarrassing you.
"Am-- am I doing this right?"
"Yes, you're doing good, keep going."
The sliver of praise shot your heart like cupid's arrow, thankful the mask hid the stupid smile on your face. The addition was painstakingly slow, as after you added the acid you had to stir (for at least ten seconds, Senku kept telling you off for trying to shorten it).
"Okay, all in."
"Amazing work." You perk up again, "now move it, idiot, I'll do the extraction and drying, or else I'm sure you'd fuck it up."
"Okay, fuckin' Bill Nye over here." You drop the pipette and let him star in his own show.
He grabs a glass rod to stir the liquid as its your turn to lean against the counter, happy that Senku had actually began making your perfume. It was meant to be a replica of a mid-range perfume, with a vanilla base note and lemony undertone. Your heart is still shattered when you found out it was discontinued.
Senku continues doing his magic, grabbing what looks like the flask-equivalent of a massive tear drop and separating some liquid from the other. He adds, he funnels out, he adds again. A bit of shaking.
Although this wasn't the main way he wanted to spend his weekend, he liked doing acts of service for you. He never admitted it, but hearing your words of gratitude really boosted his mood. Not a completely illogical release of dopamine, but one he'd rather keep a secret.
"This is an Erlenmeyer flask," he shows you a piece of equipment that holds no relevance to your life at all. But you listen to his talk anyway:
"I'm now going to dry this organic layer by adding 8g of sodium sulfate, if my calculations are correct, at least. A little excess doesn't matter much."
Considering he hadn't picked up a pen for the past fifteen minutes, he must've done them mentally using estimations.
"Then, I'll filter it again and use my rotary evaporator to get the ethyl vanillin." He continued explaining, his mind working ten steps ahead of his mouth as he began formulating ways to get the lemony scent involved.
"Your what evaporator?"
"Just a small piece of equipment I brought from home. Like... a thousand or so pounds?"
"Huh."
"It's small, only 2 litres. Thankfully, this is way less than that."
You knew Senku's habit to spend all of his money on science equipment, considering that the university didn't allow (and for good reason) any random to use it. Even though Senku was barely a random, he was not part of the chemistry school.
"Man, is this why your diet consists of instant noodles and shitty energy drinks?"
"All in the name of science."
"More like in the name of vitamin deficiency."
He shakes his head, disagreeing with your objective fact.
He picks up the beaker, swishing the contents around to inspect them.
"Anyway, you're done, you can leave now."
Your mouth opens in surprise, eyebrows furrowing.
"You seriously got me here just for twenty or so minutes of work?"
You stare at him as he shrugs, putting his finger in his ear.
"I wasn't sure whether it would oxidise properly, and the rest is too complex I'd rather you not mess about with it."
You scoff, taking off the gas mask.
"Don't give me attitude, I'm spending my weekend doing something for you." He continues.
With that logic, you couldn't be that irritated.
"Any take away left?" You try your luck. He shuts it down quickly, telling you to get out.
"Well, I guess I'll be going now."
"Mm," he hums in response.
"Well, I guess I'll be GOING now," you repeat louder. He glances up at you.
"See you. Is that what you wanted me to say?"
"Maybe. See ya'!"
You shake the lab coat off, trashing the gloves as you leave the kitchen. Senku watches you leave, then he lets out a sigh he didn't even know he was holding in. His shoulders are tense-- far too tense for such a small interaction.
He places the beaker on the table, screwing his eyes shut. What a completely illogical emotional response to your presence. He was testing whether he felt anxious around you, having eliminated a various collection of factors. He really did have a crush on you. It was a hypothesis, one that he knew was probably right, but there was some shame in that realisation.
He was meant to be your friend, an intelligent shoulder to rely on. Not a lovestruck boy with a playground crush. He didn't feel shame particularly due to the crush, but due to having such an emotional response to just one person.
Senku was emotionally intelligent enough, a surprise to everybody who just hears about him but never meets him, but for some reason he had never computed the possibility for love. Maybe, just maybe, if he immersed himself in his work enough he could forget. That was tested and failed.
So, instead, he decided to play into it. A crush is just an absence of information, holding someone to idealistic standards that they never could achieve. You're human, he's human. He thought he could find a logical pathway out of this before his hands start shaking and tongue ties when he looks at you. But he didn't. Now he's stuck like this, as your bus boy.
𓆩♡𓆪
You didn't see Senku during morning lectures, which wasn't unusual for him when he knew the content already. Hell, half the time you overslept them anyway. You sat at the back row with Chrome, listening to the lecturer drone on about thermodynamics. Chrome's hard at work making notes on the mathematical equations, whilst you try to balance your pen on your upper lip. You were still listening... kind of.
Your mind kept going back to last week, when Senku agreed to make the perfume for you.
Senku had a look in his eye. You weren't sure what it was. Affection? Amuse?
You and Chrome spent the next free period together, staying at one of the university cafés.
Nursing your matcha, you read over Chrome's notes on his laptop.
"This is so not how to derive this... how did you even? Wait," you scroll along his calculations, "that's what I got. How did you even land here?"
He shrugs, "Sai taught me some tricks."
"Yeah, but you did them wrong. Look here, you completely forgot the power."
He snatches the laptop back, a frown etched in his expression.
"X to the power of four... doesn't differentiate to three-x to the power of four..." He reads it aloud, laying his chin in his hand in thought.
You concur, "Yeah, it doesn't."
"There you are."
You turn at the voice, seeing Senku. He was wearing a black NASA sweatshirt, with grey sweatpants. His backpack is slung over one shoulder, one of the zippers open and his books half-hanging out. He's holding a test tube up containing a pale-yellowish liquid.
"Your perfume is done, idiot."
Your face instantly lights up. Leaping up to grab it, Senku raises it higher than you can reach. He looks up and away from you, a smirk playing on his face.
"Aren't you forgetting to say something?" He asks with mischief lining his words as you try to jump to grab it. You latch onto his arm, and being as weak as he is, his arm practically collapses from your full body weight. Now he's hunched forward over himself, you take a step back perfume in hand.
"Thank you!" You hold the test tube as if it was your baby, cradling it in your arms.
"I can see Kohaku's influence from a mile away..." He stretches his arm, rolling his shoulder.
"You made her something, Senku?" Chrome questions the leek-head, who shrugs in response.
"You told me it was for a science competition," he continues, crossing his arms. That earned a snicker from you.
"Woah, are you that insecure you had to make a lie up about it?"
"No, I just didn't want Chrome annoying me about..."
He trails off, realising he was saying far too much. Chrome and Gen both knew Senku's almost debilitating crush on you, and they often teased him for it. So, he finds the next logical reason. A white lie.
"...About making him help so much just for this."
"You helped?"
"Yeah, only for a bit. I made sure the hot plate didn't change temp' all of a'sudden while Senku did his labs."
"Aw, thank you both! Now," you pause to build suspense, popping the cork top off, "time for the -- oh my god."
The smell practically permeated the room. It smelt amazing, exactly like the one you used to wear, just a million times stronger. It instantly glued itself to every fibre on your clothes and you hadn't put it on yet. You didn't even dare take an actual whiff of the liquid, your lungs would collapse under the vanilla.
"Woah," Chrome didn't know whether to cover his nose or not. It wasn't bad, it just was too much.
"That's... super strong."
"Yeah, I forgot to say, it's a perfume oil so it's way stronger than what you were buying. I would've diluted it for you, but I only finished it today and I can't miss afternoon lectures."
"You could've given it to me tomorrow."
"I'm not working on that abomination anymore. I almost lost my sanity," Senku shakes his head vigorously. At least he knows he never wants to go down a career path in perfumery, or more broadly organic chemistry.
The smell was still omnipresent even with the cork off now. It was like a Pandora's box, now it would never be fully closed. Senku must've used a hydraulic press to cork it shut considering you didn't smell anything until now. Some people around covered their noses with their shirts as they continued typing, embarrassment creeping up your neck.
"I don't even need to put it on, just carry it around with me and the next room'll smell me."
"If you don't like it, I can take it ba--"
"No. I want it. Thank you."
Chrome's expression is impish, eyes bouncing between the two of you.
"Gen will love this."
You both look at him, perplexed. Senku seems to catch up quickly, colour flying from his face.
"Don't speak a word of this to Gen, you--"
Chrome slides his laptop off the coffee table and into his bag in one smooth motion, and shows Senku Gen's contact number.
"You idiot--!"
Chrome jogs out of the cafe with an evil smile, leaving you frankly confused. You would ask Senku, but he's so red you're worried his blood vessels will all explode.
He cups his face in his hand, a sorry bid to hide it from you:
"I'm going to class..."
"Class doesn't start for another fifteen minutes--"
"I'm going to class," he repeats, turning and walking off. You knew he liked to sulk in Dr. Xeno's office from time to time, so you'd probably find him there. Helping out a friend isn't such an embarrassment, you'd think. You tilt your head, finding yourself alone now. Maybe Senku resented you in some way? Your heart drops slightly at the thought. No, you were overthinking it. It was probably just Gen teasing Senku about making cosmetics rather than spend his time drooling over schematics.
Sitting back down, you look at the test tube in your hand. You can't help the stupid smile on your face, even though it's absolutely killing your nostrils. You'd have to look up how to dilute perfume when you get home. Or maybe right now, considering you still had three hours of lectures and didn't want the lecture theatre to smell like you for the next... forever. You'd have to hide the test tube in a bush somewhere outside the engineering building. Yeah, that sounded good.
"Mm, it smells like cupcakes. Is there a new bakery or something near here?" Chrome asks Senku as the three of you leave the building.
You crouch down at a nearby bush, avoiding the cans thrown by students, and collect your weapon of destruction.
"Oh."
Chrome was left disappointed and hungry for pastries the rest of the day.
.
an: same universe as get off me, lady! & okay, help yourself . will be specified when i do a masterlist. im like working backwards in the timeline lol . not proofread once again idgaf soz
18+ , club night, party, no penetration, university au, senku is jst horny, you're drunk, sitting on his lap. 2.5k
"Senku?!"
Your exclamation was a tad bit too loud, earning curious glances from the people around you. But in your defence, this was the first time you had seen Senku at pres. Nonetheless, dressed for the club.
He clicks his tongue at you, looking away in embarassment. Gen, who must've been the one to drag him out, waves at you to come over.
"I can't believe this. I must be hallucinating," you say, half-tipsy from the shots you'd taken with Yuzuriha. Reaching out to touch his cheek-- obviously, to check if he was real-- his wine eyes drink you in. Your fingers graze his soft skin, you didn't notice but he leant into your brief touch.
"You and Senku-chan are matching!"
Gen giggles to himself when you both look down at what each other is wearing.
You're sporting a tight black half-sleeve, low cut enough to show your lacy bra, alongside black shorts that ride up enough to almost show too much. Senku's wearing a black tee with long white sleeves, and black boot cut jeans.
You didn't even know he owned clothing that weren't hoodies. 'Inefficient', he'd say about fashion.
"We're matching! Twins!"
"I need to get changed."
"Oh, shut up, you leek head. Is it that bad to match with your b-f-f? Gen! Let's do shots!"
Gen shrugs, as if to say why not, following behind you. Senku considered the possibility for a split second, before deciding to stay sober was the only anchor he still had to a comfort zone. After all, he hated going to the club. He was fine with house parties, since he knew everyone, but clubs were a step too far.
You and Gen cheers to an apple vodka found on the table, you using the cap of the bottle as a shot glass and Gen using a red cup filled with coke instead.
"How'd you even get him to come out?" You hiss at the bite of the alcohol on your tongue, Gen unchanging in his expression.
"A little convincing. You know me, Senku-chan does anything I tell him to."
"That's cuz you blackmail him, Gen."
彡٥ﾞ‶٥彡
"I'll tell her you like her."
Senku, holding a beaker of an unknown clear substance, whirls it a bit too hard at the comment: a splash of the mixture landing on his glove.
"You wouldn't."
"Senku-chan, your glove is melting."
Senku's glare didn't leave Gen, giving him a death stare as he swiftly takes the glove off in one motion.
They were in the kitchen of their shared house with Chrome, Senku coming to the end of a small experiment and Gen eating his dinner right next to the array of chemicals that the genius had been using.
"I told you, Gen, I hate clubs. Why are you forcing this onto me?"
"It'll be fun. You've been doing science-y stuff for the past week, you need a break."
"My break from my degree is the science-y stuff. "
"You know I hate liars, Senku-chan."
Senku gives him an incredulous look, he can't believe the words that had just come out of Gen's mouth.
"Plus, I already picked out your outfit! You'll steal her heart tonight, for sure."
"Tonight?!"
"Better have a shower, Senku-chan!" Gen stands up, leaving his plate in the sink and exiting with a giggle.
彡٥ﾞ‶٥彡
"Just a bit of convincing," Gen reaffirmed, smiling at himself. You hum, feeling the warmth of the alcohol finally affect you.
"Like, did he pay for a ticket already?"
Gen smiles, showing a receipt of two tickets of his phone for the student nightclub.
"You really thought this all out. So... so conniving."
"Senku! My friend, you came!"
Now, it was your turn to look. Ryuusui had just walked in holding a six pack, looking just as astonished as you did at his presence. Senku sighs, before he's attacked by Ryuusui's arm over his shoulder. There's no way he's getting out of this without at least a beer in his hand. How was Ryuusui late, to his own pres?
He's accompanied by Francois behind him, who has a phone in their hand typing.
Gen looks at the clock on his phone screen, rolling his eyes.
"There's only thirty minutes before they stop accepting people."
"Wait, when's last entry?!" You exclaim, holding Gen's shoulder.
"12AM."
"Aghh! Ryuusui, order the Ubers already!" You let go of Gen, now grabbing Ryuusui and shaking him. The smile never leaves his face as he unashamedly checks you out. He drops the six pack on the counter next to him.
He lets go of Senku, and uses his free hand to push you towards his chest, the arm snaking around to envelop you. His lips are so close to yours. Gazing at you in his embrace:
"You truly are a woman after my own heart, is this an outfit for me tonight?" He uses a finger to raise your chin to meet his eyes. You feel a light blush crawl up your neck, he does this to any girl he sees! What a playboy.
Senku rips you out of the blonde's embrace, putting a lazy arm around your shoulders, "What're you saying tonight?" He aims the question at Ryuusui, ignoring your surprised look at him.
"Hasn't she told you? We're going to share a warm embrace after the club in my own room!" Now he was just lying to get under Senku's skin. To anyone else, it seemed as if Senku brushed off the comment, but you knew his tic to rub his ear when he was irritated.
"I didn't hear anything about that."
Francois taps Ryuusui's shoulder, a bid to change the subject, "I've ordered the Ubers. Using your account, obviously."
"Ah, thanks Francois! You're a life saver!"
They hum in response, grabbing two bottles from the six pack on the counter. They open them both, handing one to you.
"Thanks, Frenchie!"
You take a swig, and Senku snatches the bottle from your hand, drinking himself. It's not like he was always sober, but this was the first time he had willingly taken a drink by his own accord. You blink, astonished at this 180 Senku did tonight. First, showing up to go to the club, now drinking?
He doesn't heed your shock, staring daggers at Ryuusui who's now chatting away. You didn't like the blonde, right? You knew he was just flirty and his advances didn't mean anything? Senku focuses again when he feels his arm being taken off your shoulder.
"Oh, sorry."
"Don't worry, Senku. Why'd you come out anyway? This is so not you."
"Change of pace."
Senku stops answering you on the topic, which leaves you wondering what exactly Gen hung over his head to get him here. Maybe Gen had kidnapped his dad and was holding his hostage. Payment: night out to the student club. Maybe this was the most expensive ransom Senku had to pay him.
People begin trickling out, getting into the Ubers Ryuusui had singlehandedly paid for. And he never expected payment back, if anything, that was an offense to his generosity as a host. Who said a playboy can't also be a philanthropist?
You sat in the middle of the car, to your left Senku and to your right Yuzuriha. At the front, Taiju talked the driver's ear off. Senku still had the bottle in his hand, half-full now from small sips.
"You need help finishing that?" You ask, and he hands it over to you. You drink a quarter, and he drinks the rest. His cheeks were viciously red for the small amount he drank, but he seemed to retain constitution. Well, apart from:
"Alcohol increases the effects of gamma-aminobutyric acid. This causes sluggish movement, slurred speech, and slow reaction time. Alcohol also decreases the effects of glutamate, which regulates dopamine in your ventral tegmental area..."
He was muttering to himself the effects of alcohol on the brain. What a nerd.
Senku stared out of the car window, watching the lamp posts strobe as they drove past. Once in a while, he'd watch you from the reflection, uncaring for the conversation you were having with the couple at his side. You were so beautiful.
The car stopped where the other Ubers had accumulated. The group began to exit:
"Senku, be careful in the club, someone small like you is gonna get lost easily!" Taiju laughed, Senku rolling his eyes.
"Whatever, meathead." He wasn't even short, well, not compared to the gorilla Taiju.
.
.
.
Senku had absolutely zero idea where anyone was. He had imprisoned himself on the sofa at the far side of the dance floor, where he was stuck between the armrest and a drunk group of students. This was a living hell, why had he agreed to come?
Opening up his phone, he begins to click on his Uber app to get an estimate on how expensive it would be to leave right now.
His eyes widened, "Fuckin' fifty pound?!"
His house was only maybe a fifteen minute car ride. He'd have to walk, or find Ryuusui, suck up his pride and beg him. Resigned, he pocketed his phone before a hand landed on his shoulder.
It was you.
You were shiny, forehead heavy with sweat, but your makeup still looked glowing. You gripped onto him like he was your last anchor to reality itself.
"Hey, where's everyone else?"
You ignore his question, out of breath.
"You alright?"
" 'M so tired, Sen..."
"Sen?"
"There's no seats, Sen," you moaned. He rolled his eyes, tensing his legs to get up for you. Gripping the sofa, he only barely raised himself.
"Okay, princess, just--"
Suddenly, there was a weight on his lap and his chest.
Senku gasped lowly when you placed yourself onto his lap. Your ass pressed right into his-- he needed to focus. Do not think about it. He repeated those words like a mantra in his mind as one hand gripped your waist so you wouldn't slide off.
"Let me just stand up, so you sit down properly--"
"Noo," you slurred, pressing your back into his chest, "I like it like this, Sen."
Fuck, did you know what you were doing? With the glazed look in your eye, probably not. The nickname made his dick twitch in his boxers. Probably unbeknownst to you, your ass kept moving against his jeans. With your full weight onto him now, the pressure just felt... great. Your ass shifted into a better position, and he just couldn't help to be half hard now.
Senku rested his head against the club sofa, trying to push against the fabric to get as much space between your body and his. But it wasn't working. You gripped his thighs, only for balance, but the way your nails dug into him made him red.
"Don't think about it," he muttered to himself.
"Hm, what'd you say, Sen?"
He sighed. He moved his hand lower down your waist, so you wouldn't slide off. That's all it was. You were sitting down for a break. Because you were dancing. You rested your head between his collarbone and his shoulder.
Tentatively, he looked down at your chest. This was the best view he could've dreamed of. Objectively. Mathematically. If he looked closer, he could see through the fabric of the bra and your perked nipples--
"Sen, come and dance with me..."
"Not now," he said almost reflexively, gripping your hip tighter. Senku didn't want this to end. Also, if he stood up, everyone would see his hard fucking cock through his jeans. Trying his luck, he moved his other hand from the sofa onto your other hip, pushing you further back into him.
"You're slipping."
"Hm? Sorry..." you adjusted yourself against his dick, earning a low moan from Senku. Again, you relaxed yourself onto him. He found himself stopping his own hips from raising to hump your ass, pressing down on your hips so he'd feel more of you. You didn't notice the details, just feeling Senku holding you.
He now rested his face between your neck and shoulder, lips grazing the back of you. He could smell the perfume he made for you onto your skin. It sent a shiver straight to his cock. Senku was sure now he had a damp patch just from precum on his boxers.
Sneakily, he continued to press you into him, his lips caressing your collarbone. You did notice his lips, goosebumps forming. You leant into him, humming happily at his touch. You waited for this for... forever. Was this a dream?
"Sen, what're you doin'?"
"Nothing," he says calmly as he begins to kiss the nape of your neck, you won't remember this, he tells himself. He can't help it, you look too beautiful like this. His hands inch closer towards the button on your shorts, stopping short at your stomach.
He breathes into your ear, tickling you. You chuckled, tightening your grip on his thighs. Although, good things can't last forever.
To his horror, he saw a certain blonde notice him and you. To his further horror, he was approaching.
"That's where you two were!" He shouts over the loud music. You wave with both hands, a light smile on your face.
"Haha! You're plastered!" He tells you, earning a pout, "At least you're taking care of her," Ryuusui told Senku. It seems like the blonde didn't notice Senku's dusty pink cheeks. Or if he did, chalked it up to the beer he had an hour ago.
Senku's head hit the backboard of the sofa, facing up to look at Ryuusui.
"Where's everyone else?"
"Hm, good question," Ryuusui says, "Francois is getting drinks at the bar, I think Yuzuriha and Taiju snuck off somewhere... Kohaku and Gen are dancing. And I'm here!"
"Tell Senku to dance!" You didn't use the nickname infront of Ryuusui, Senku noticed, were you embarrassed? The leek-head found it endearing. He'll bring it up tomorrow, when you're inevitably crashing at his place because it's closer.
You stood up suddenly, and Senku rushed to put his hands in his pockets. He was almost caught, but neither of you noticed. You grab Ryuusui's shoulder and shake him, pointing at Senku as if you were a child tellling their mum something.
"Tell him to dance!"
"Senku, come and enjoy yourself!"
"I'm good here," he says, looking away from you. You're now drunkenly grabbing the inside of his elbow, both trying to get him to stand up and take his hands out of his pockets. His life now stakes on the fact that he absolutely ten billion percent cannot take his hands out of his pockets. Lest the tent that's formed is found. Over his dead body.
Thankfully, you're even weaker than the genius, so you can't pry him from his safe haven of the sofa. The blonde shakes his head, telling you to just leave him.
"He'll come up when we see how much fun we're having," he teases, gripping your waist and pulling you towards him.
Sure, Ryuusui. But did she sit in your lap? Senku is going to live off this memory for a couple of weeks.
an: im on a senku grind rn dont talk to me i have another fic off the stove. #likeandsubscribe if u want more
Synopsis: you meet jason at a bar on your little sister's 21st birthday
Tags: jason todd x reader, reader is a private investigator, oral s (f recieving), p in v, grinding, dry humping ?, begging, riding, yearning, timeskips, more to be added
wc: 8k
a/n: i don't usually write x reader fics, usually only x oc, and this one is converted from the original which is on my ao3, so there's bound to be a bunch of typos and incorrect conversions bc i edited the whole thing in one sitting lol (ao3 x oc version)
masterlist : ao3
You almost fall to the ground as your little sister pulls me out of the Uber SUV. Her friends flood out after you, and you stumble out of the way and onto the sidewalk. You feel overdressed, out of place, and mildly unwelcome around these young, fresh faced college girls. But it’s Savannah’s 21st, and all your little sister wanted was for your to go out with her and her friends, so here you are.
“C’mon!”
You turn to the sound of your sister’s voice, seeing her wave to you from the door of the bar. You follow her inside, immediately shedding your jacket due to the blast of hot air that slaps you as you step past the threshold. Sav slips her arm over your shoulders, pulling you over to a long, high top table where her and her friends are perched. You’re friendly with a lot of them, but you wouldn’t consider any of them genuine friends. You sling my jacket over the low back of your barstool before pivoting to head for the bar. You’ll need something strong to get yourself through the night.
You lean against the bar, flagging down a bartender and ordering a whiskey sour, telling him to leave your tab open. The bartender sets the drink down in front of you, and you thank him.
“Aw, I was hoping to buy you a drink. But I see you already got yourself one.” You hear a very deep, very male voice say next to you. You don’t turn, internally eye-rolling. You know it’ll be another pretentious guy trying to get in your pants who thinks they’re fucking Hercules, only for them to jackhammer and finish in two minutes.
You take a deep breath and a long swig of my drink before glancing over. Shit he’s gorgeous. Okay, you can work with this.
“Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready for another.” You tell him, smirking with your lips on the glass.
“Do you have a name, or should I get you your drink first?” He smiles at you, noting your now empty glass. Jesus, he's got perfect teeth, a perfect face.
“Whiskey sour.”
“Nice to meet you, whiskey sour.” He says with an even wider smile, sticking out his hand.
It’s impossible not to smile back. “You’re funny. I’m [name].” You tell him, sliding your hand into his.
He lifts my hand up, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Okay, that’s new. “Jason Todd.”
“No shit. That’s where I know you from. You’re Bruce Wayne’s kid, aren’t you? No wonder you looked so familiar.”
“I know, I’m just a nepo baby. It’s complicated, though.” He shakes his head with an exaggerated groan, your hand still nestled in his. He pops one eye open, glancing down at your joined hands. “Did my flirting work, though?”
“Ha. You wish.” You say, slipping your hand out of his and crossing your arms on the table.
“So...” He says my name slowly, as if testing and tasting the way it feels in his mouth. “Where are you from? You don’t look Gotham born.”
“Damn, how’d you know? I thought I hid it well.”
“There’s something about you…” He looks you up and down, his gaze sliding over your body, making your skin heat.
“Is there now?” You say, raising an eyebrow at him and shifting to face him a little more. You strategically press forward against your crossed arms, knowing that your cleavage is on full display.
His eyes flick down for a brief moment, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. “So where are you from if you aren’t from Gotham?”
“Central City.” You tell him. “What about you, Jason Todd?”
He nods slowly, holding your gaze. “Well I’m sure you already know, since you’ve been keeping tabs on me. I’m from Gotham, born and raised.”
You roll your eyes, unable to stop your smile. “I have most definitely not been keeping tabs on you. You just live a high profile life, and it’s not my fault that I read the news.”
He flags down a bartender, ordering a bourbon before glancing back at you, silently asking if you want another drink. you give him a nod, and he tells the bartender your order. You glance back at where Sav and her friends are sitting, and they’re all staring at you, slack-jawed.
“Do you need to go back to your friends? I didn’t mean to keep you for so long.” Jason says, turning back to face you.
“Um, I-“ You glance back and forth between him and your friends. “Just give me a minute.” You say before standing up from your barstool and heading over to Savannah.
“Who on earth is that?” Sav says enthusiastically. All her friends lean in to listen.
You wave your hand in dismissal, but You can feel your face flush. “He’s no one. Just some guy I met.”
“Babe, he’s gorgeous and he’s staring at you right now!” Savannah exclaims, shaking her hands in excitement.
You look over, locking eyes with him immediately. He smiles at you as he takes a sip of his bourbon, licking his lips as he sets his glass down. Oh fuck. You turn back to Savannah, whose grin has practically taken over her entire face.
“He looks so expensive. Look at that watch! And his chain, woah. If you don’t go home with him tonight, I will literally slap yo- oh my God he’s coming over here.” Her eyes move to something over your shoulder.
You smell his cologne before you turn to face him, but you don’t get the chance to before his right arm has slinked around my body to rest on your right hip, pressing you back into him. All of Savannah’s friends stare in disbelief.
“I’m Jason. I hope I wasn’t hogging her too much.” He introduces himself smoothly, with practiced ease. His hand is heavy and warm on your hip, and you relax against him completely. His grip tightens as you do.
Savannah shakes her head. “You didn’t steal her, don’t even worry. You two have fun!”
You look up at Jason, who towers over you now that you aren’t sitting on equal height barstools. And he really towers. He’s at least 6’3. His hand takes up almost half your waist. “This is Savannah, my little sister. It’s her 21st birthday.”
“Oh no shit? Happy birthday.” He says, turning his attention to Sav.
“Yes, thank you! But we didn’t wanna bother you guys or interrupt…” Sav starts.
“I don’t want to steal your sister away on your birthday.” Jason justifies.
“No, seriously. It’s not a big deal.” Sav insists, nodding back over to where your spot at the bar still remains empty.
“Okay. Come get me if you need me.” You say as Jason says goodbye to the table and turns you around. His hand slides to your lower back as he leads you back to the bar. Your drink isn’t there anymore.
“I had the bartender hold your drink behind the bar so that you wouldn’t get skeptical about leaving it with me. But I can order you another one, if you’d like.” He explains as the bartender sets your drink back in front of you.
“So, baby. Tell me about yourself.”
“Well, what do you want to know?”
“Favorite color, movie, band, how you take your coffee. Anything you’re willing to share.” He props his jaw on his arm, leaning against the counter.
“Okay hmm.” You rattle off your favorites, answering all of his questions. A small smile spreads across his lips with each answer.
“My favorite color is black, The Empire Strikes Back is my favorite movie, I’m a big Star Wars fan. I listen to a lot of Paramore. And I like my coffee hot and very sweet and very milky.”
“No way. Empire is my favorite Star Wars movie. Everyone always says Revenge of the Sith, but I just can’t put it above Empire. I would also like to point out that black is not a color, it’s a shade.” You can feel your smile growing with each passing second.
“Says you.” Jason replies with a small laugh, looking you up and down, clearly referencing your all black outfit.
“Okay, that was unnecessary.” You shoot back. It’s impossible to hide your shit eating grin. You wave down the bartender, ordering another drink. “This is my last one, you can’t let me have any more than this because then I won't be tipsy and fun anymore, I’ll just be drunk.”
“I’ll carry you home if I have to, sweets.” He says, his voice low. “And besides, I’m sure you’re fun at all stages of sobriety.”
A few minutes later, he excuses himself to use the bathroom. You stay at the bar, scrolling on your phone for a little. Someone slides up next to you, standing way too close for comfort. It’s a frat guy type, too drunk, sweaty, and aggressive for anyone’s liking.
“Hey baby, aren’t you a beaut?” He slurs. You give him a polite smile before staring straight ahead, sipping your drink. He starts speaking again, his beer sloshing over the rim of the glass. “Playing hard to get? Or are you just a prude?”
You turn to shoot back, but someone’s hand lands on your shoulder possessively. Jason. You feel him press a kiss to the back of your head. “Can I help you?” He asks, his voice low and deceptively sweet.
The frat guy’s face reddens. “No, man. I’m good, I didn’t know she was your girl.”
“Mm.” Jason nods slowly, sliding his hand from your shoulder down and looping around your waist possessively, pressing you flush against him. You can feel his muscles through his shirt, shit. The frat guy stumbles away, and Jason replaces his place. You’re a lot closer than before now, the air between you a little heavier than before.
“Thanks.” You say, pushing your empty glass away from you. “You didn’t have to jump in like that, I could’ve handled it myself.”
“I kind of like staking my claim on you.” He says with a flirtatious smirk. “And you’re welcome, it was nothing.”
“Do you know?” You say with a laugh. “I didn’t know you had a claim on me.”
“I’d like to think I do.” His voice drops low, his eyes flicking to my lips briefly.
You lean against your hand, propping yourself up to look at him properly. You drag your gaze up and down his body. You can tell he goes to the gym. His black henley is stretched over large biceps and his sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, his forearms veiny and strong.
“I don’t mean to be too forward, but do you want to go back to my place?” You ask. “You are fully allowed to say no, by the way. I won’t hold it against you.”
His eyes darken, and his voice is low as he replies. “Yes, I would love to go back to yours. My bike is parked out front, and I’ve only had one drink, and that was two hours ago at this point, but we can get an Uber if you’d prefer.”
“No, I trust you.” You say, standing from your barstool. You point to Savannah and her friends. “Let me just grab my jacket from Sav’s table.”
He nods, standing and watching you walk over to Savannah. As soon as you reach her, she whips her head to you. You can tell she’s well on her way to being wasted, but she’s in a large group of girls you trust to take care of her. “He’s coming home with me.” you inform her as you sling your leather jacket over your arm.
“Oh my God. Tell me everything tomorrow. I want to know how big it is.” She wiggles her eyebrows mischievously. You roll your eyes, telling her you’ll call her tomorrow. you pivot on your heels, walking back to Jason, who straightens as you near.
His hand lands on my lower back as he walks you out of the bar and to a sleek black motorcycle parked outside. He lifts the seat, pulling out a spare helmet and handing it to you. He tucks your hair behind your ears before taking the helmet and sliding it over your head, fingers nimbly doing the clasp underneath your chin. He repeats the same process with his own helmet before offering his hand to help you climb onto the bike. you sling your leg over the seat, slipping your arms around his waist as he settles in front of you. You lean forward, telling him your address.
“Hold on.” He tells you, revving the engine before pulling into traffic. You speed down the road. Every time he makes a turn, his hand settles on the outer part of your thigh just above your knee, steadying you. You point out your building as he turns onto your block, telling him he can pull into the parking lot and park in a visitor’s spot.
He pulls into the spot, cutting the engine and kicking up the kickstand. He gets off first before lifting you off. He undoes his helmet, setting it on the bike before turning to you. You tilt your head back, allowing him to unclip the clasp and slide off the helmet. He smoothes your hair with his fingers, tucking the loose strands behind your ears. His hands linger on your face.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy.
You nod in response, slightly tilting your head up expectantly. His hand slides to the back of your head, holding you still as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You loop your arms around his neck as his other hand slides to your lower back, pressing you to him. His mouth is hot, his tongue sliding against yours in a perfect, slow rhythm.
You break the kiss. “We should probably go upstairs.”
He nods, his gaze locked on your lips as you speak. You take his hand in yours, pulling him through a door that leads to the lobby and pull him into the elevator behind you. You click the button for the eighth floor, and the second the elevator door is closed, he backs you up against the wall. His lips meet yours again, this time more eager and sure. His hands grip your hips, keeping you still and pressed against him. The elevator dings much too soon, and he pulls away from you, sliding his hand into yours once more. You lead him down to the end of the hallway, unlocking your door and pulling him inside.
Your building’s nice. You know it. You’ve busted your ass doing your job for ten years to claw your way to the top. You earned this. And it’s nice to see the flicker of respect in Jason’s eyes. Your apartment is a one-bedroom that you’ve worked hard to decorate and make your own. You splurged for a brand-new building in one of the relatively safer parts of Gotham. It doesn’t bother you since you work all day and don’t usually have time for friends. Your cat meows and approaches you, rubbing against your legs. You pick him up, showing him to Jason.
“This is Milo. Milo, this is my friend, Jason.” You press a kiss to his black fur.
Jason smiles and reaches out, scratching beneath his chin. “Hi Milo. I love cats.”
You smile at him. “Me too. Obviously.” You let Milo jump to the floor. “So this is my apartment.”
“It’s cute, it’s very you.” Jason says before hesitating. “I should probably tell you. I can get a little um, rough during sex. I don’t want you to feel pressured or unsafe at any time, you can always tell me to stop. And I hope you trust me when I say that I will.”
You smile up at him, stepping closer. “I appreciate that, but I don’t think I’ll have to tell you to stop.” You wink. Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, his eyes flicking down to your mouth before dipping his head to press his lips to yours. You back him up, walking him the short distance to your bedroom. You shut the door behind you, letting him press you against it. He pulls his shirt over his head in one swift motion, revealing his bare chest to you. He has several odd shaped, jagged scars across his skin and you trace one with your fingertips, looking up at him in curiosity and confusion.
“I work in security.” He explains. “I get into the occasional scuffle.”
You nod, letting him pull your tight black longsleeve over your head before reconnecting your lips. His hands slide down your sides, resting at your hips. His right hand plays with the hem of your miniskirt, his fingertips slipping below the bottom hem and sliding towards your inner thigh.
“Is this okay?” He asks, his voice low and his breath hot against your lips. You nod, your eyes meeting his. You gasp, his fingertips pressing against your clit. “Fuck, you’re wet. You’re already soaked, I can feel it through your panties.”
You hook your fingers in the waistband of your skirt, dragging it down your legs. He grips the fabric as it reaches halfway down your thighs, pulling it down the rest of the way as he slides to his knees in front of you. You swallow, your mouth running dry at the sight of him looking up at you with heated eyes. He hooks his fingers in your panties, looking up at you for approval. You nod frantically, embarrassingly so, and he drags them down your legs slowly. You kick them to the side as they pool around your ankles.
In one swift motion, he grips your hips, lifting you and pinning you against the door while simultaneously pulling your legs over his shoulders. “Can I go down on you, sweetheart? Please?”
“Yes, please.” You breathe.
“Thank God.” He groans, turning his attention south. He licks a long stripe up your slit, and an involuntary whine leaves your mouth. He presses a kiss to your clit before leaning in, sucking on it. “Fuck, you taste so good. I could eat this pretty pussy for hours.” His fingertips tease your entrance, barely pressing in before withdrawing.
You glare down at him, and he smiles up at you, watching your face contort as he pushes two fingers in deep. “Oh shit.” You gasp.
He pulls his fingers out completely before pushing them back in, setting a smooth rhythm. One of your hands slides into his hair, holding him to you as you grind against his hand. His fingers pull me higher, and as you begin to tighten, he pulls them out. Before you can protest, his mouth replaces his hand, his tongue licking into you.
“Jason.” You say urgently. “Fuck.” He keeps dragging his tongue along your slit, dipping in to taste you. You shudder, your body trembling as you come. He presses his tongue into you, feeling you tighten and convulse around it as he laps you up.
Slowly, he lifts your hips up, letting your legs slide off of his shoulders and steadying you as you stand. His eyes stay locked on yours as you back him towards the bed, your hands swiftly undoing his belt and pulling his jeans down. He unclips your bra before he kicks his boxers off, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He centers himself on the bed, pulling you to straddle him. You sit directly on his dick, grinding down on him. A groan leaves his mouth, his head tilting back against the pillow as his hands grip your hips, pulling you back and forth on him.
You lean to the side, pulling open the drawer of your nightstand and fishing out a condom. You tear the foil open, rolling the condom onto him. He watches with a desperate, needy look on his face.
“Oh fuck, please, sweets, please let me put it in.” He begs, pulling you down to kiss him. His hips buck against yours feverishly. “Please, I need you so bad, I’ll do anything.”
You kiss him back, sliding your tongue against his before breaking the kiss. You sit up, gripping the base of his cock and lifting yourself up onto your knees. The tip catches on your entrance, and you sit yourself down on him, feeling him push deep inside you. His hands slide up your thighs, resting on your hips. He pants heavily, looking up at you with pure lust in his eyes.
“You feel so good baby. You’re so tight and perfect around me.” He groans, his hands grinding your hips down onto him. You lift up slightly, letting yourself sink back down onto him. A breathy moan leaves your lips, and his lips part. “Look at you, fucking yourself on my cock. God, you look beautiful.”
You repeat the motion faster this time. Your head drops down, and he reaches up, gripping the hair at the back of your head and pulling your head back up to look at him. “Watch me while I fuck you.”
You nod, speeding up your motions and placing your hands on his chest for support. His hips begin to snap up to meet yours, driving deep into you. “Oh God, Jason.”
He pulls you down, pressing his lips to yours. “Such a good girl, using me like this. You feel so perfect, y’know that?”
You slump forward, pressing your chest against his. You slide my lips against yours, wanting to taste him again. His hands grip my hips, guiding your movements, his hips rolling up to meet yours. You could feel the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach with each passing second.
“Are you close?” You ask as you grind down hard. You sit up slightly, wanting to look at his face fully.
His voice is a desperate rasp. “Yes, fuck, tell me you’re close too. Tell me you’re gonna come on my cock. I wanna know I’m doing this to you.”
You whine his name as your body starts to tremble above him, your release cresting over you like a tidal wave. You could feel every inch of him pushing deep inside of you as you lean down, pressing his lips to yours.
He grips your hips, slamming you down onto him one last time as he comes with a deep groan. He kisses you back deeply, running his hands through your hair as you slump against him. You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Slowly, he lifts your hips, slipping out of you and laying you down next to him.
He gets up from the bed, discarding the condom and pulling on his boxers. He hands you his shirt, helping you pull it over your body. His arms wrap around you instinctively as he settles back into bed beside you, holding you to his side.
You talk for hours, facing each other as you talk. He’s easy to talk to, too easy. Everything about him makes you want to share, the way he listens attentively making it too easy to trust him. You fall asleep like that, curled into each other.
Your head is pounding when you wake up, and you groan, rolling over and reaching an arm out, seeking muscular skin but reaching only cold sheets. Your eyes snap open. What the fuck? What the fuck???
You sit up, bringing your knees to your chest and taking a deep breath. It’s fine, you tell yourself. You barely knew him. It was a one night thing. But the way he looked at you, the words he said when he was inside you… No. Don’t think about it, that’s dangerous. He’s a stranger.
But even still, as you brush my teeth and get ready to go on a run, you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about him when you shower. You can’t stop thinking about him when you’re finishing your investigation report and sending it to your boss. You can’t stop thinking about it when you get up for work two days later. And you definitely can’t stop thinking about it once you tell Natalie, your closest work friend and therefore, kind of your only close friend.
“No fuckin’ way. What a fuckin’ asshole!” She spits, her Long Island accent heavy and jaw dropped as you finish telling her about your hookup with Jason.
You shake your head, pushing around the last few leaves of your salad with your fork. “I know. He didn’t even leave a note or anything. No number, nothing. And it’s not like I can just find it, he’s a Wayne, that shit’s locked down.” You groan.
Natalie gets up, throwing out her trash. “That'd be my last straw. I’d go batshit crazy.”
“Speaking of bats, I finally finished the Easton Red Hood file yesterday, so at least that’s done. Fucking Clay’s been up my ass about finishing it, but the guy’s like a ghost.” You lean back in your chair, sighing. “But I finally got enough shit about Red Hood to put in the report, so at least I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I can’t lie, I’m still curious about that vigilante, though. He’s cleaner than Batman.”
You excuse yourself, walking back to your office. You sit in your desk chair immediately facing the wall covered in newspaper clippings, files, photos, and documents strung together with red string. No matter how many times you look, no matter how many times you analyze, you can’t for the life of you figure out the vigilante that is Red Hood. Gotham has its fair share of vigilantes, but none as troubling as him. None as… entrancing as him.
Natalie calls you obsessed, having spent months gathering as much intel as humanly possible, finding loopholes that are less than legal, and some that are just morally wrong. But you can’t help yourself. There’s something missing. Something so small and just under your nose that you can’t quite place… Something keeping you from finding out just who the Red Hood really is.
But this obsession? It’s what’s made you the best private investigator in Gotham. It’s why companies and investors pay you millions to dig up the secrets of their competitors. And Red Hood is the only case you haven’t fully figured out. And it drives you insane.
It’s been eight months since you’ve been to that bar. You used to go every weekend, waiting, hoping Jason would show up. He never did.
Every time you walked in, you had the feeling you’d just missed him. That he’d just slipped away. He’s still in the public eye, still the charming, ever present, second Wayne son. And it took you weeks to stop thinking about him every day. Months to stop frequenting the bar where you met him.
There’s something about tonight. You’ll go back tonight. Maybe… just maybe he’ll be there.
So you go.
And he’s not there.
You drag yourself out after nursing your drink for over an hour. The drink has run warm, and you’re only halfway done. You turn down the usual alley that cuts your walk home in half, but you hear voices. Someone’s getting the shit beat out of them.
You slow down, pressing against the right wall as you approach slowly. Your heart flies to my throat. He’s there. Red Hood. He’s slamming his fists into the face of some junkie by the looks of it. You plaster yourself closer against the wall, knocking a stray can on accident.
He stops, looking up directly at you. Shit.
You step forward. Giving yourself up willingly. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up.
“Listen Officer. Let me finish up here, you carry on your merry little way, and all will be good. Yeah?”
“Officer?” You scoff, stepping forward and into the light. “I’m not a cop.”
He stiffens for the slightest, almost imperceptible second, but you catch it. You’re trained to catch it. “Not a cop, huh? You don’t look stupid enough to be lurking around here at this hour, who are you?” His voice is warbled through the modulator of his helmet.
“I’m a private investigator.” You offer.
He stands, stepping off of the now unconscious man on the ground, taking a step closer to you. His head cocks in curiosity. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know, what is it?” You smirk at him, even as he steps closer still.
“Aw, c’mon baby. Don’t be like that.” He steps even closer, your name sliding out of his mouth with far too much ease. Your eyes narrow. The Red Hood knows your name… How? Why?
You eye him up and down.
“Why are you here?” He asks.
You look down at your nails, trying to seem occupied and nonchalant, but Red Hood knows your name. “My client wants to know your true identity, not just your theatrical stage name and reputation.”
“Your client… right.” He starts to turn away. “I’m not some prize to be won, sweetheart.”
“I-” He cuts you off, turning towards you and eating up the distance between you in long strides.
“And that’s not the truth, is it?” He’s towering over you now, his chest only inches from yours. “You’re the one who’s interested, aren’t you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You have to tilt your head back to look up at him. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’ll come when I tell you to meet me at the abandoned watchtower at dawn.”
You roll my eyes in response, but he’s right. You will go. How can you not? You cock an eyebrow at him. “Do you now?” Your fingers twitch. You know where the catch of his helmet likely is. You can reach it. You could do it… But you can’t. No. Not can’t. You won’t. Why?
You’re already at the watchtower when he arrives, leaning against a pillar just out of his sight. He stops in the center of the room, and you take a few steps toward him, your heels clicking against the old marble.
“I knew you’d come.” He says, not turning to watch you as you walk in a slow circle around him. You don’t respond. “Did you dress up just for me? You really don’t try to blend in, do you, baby?”
You’re wearing what you always do for work, a crisp, expensive suit. It’s part of your brand. It makes people respect you, fear you. Fear your money, your knowledge, your influence, that’s power.
“Blend in?” You scoff, stopping several feet behind him. “I’m the highest paid private investigator in all of Gotham, if I wanted to blend in, I would.”
He barks out a laugh. “Highest paid, huh? I’m not your average case, sweets, and I think you know that. But are you ready to handle the consequences of digging into my life for your little client?”
“My file on you is complete, already submitted to my client. I’m here for… personal reasons.”
He turns to look at you, and you hate that you can’t tell where he’s looking with that stupid helmet. You hate that you don’t know what his voice sounds like. You hate that he’s five feet in front of you and you still don’t know his real identity.
“So you know, then?” His voice is less harsh, lower and slower than usual.
Do you have any clue what he’s talking about? Of course not, but you can’t ever let them know what you do and don’t know. “Of course I do.”
He hums in response, stalking over to you as his hand reaches to the back of his helmet, the mechanism hissing as it comes undone. By the time he’s pulled the helmet off, he’s backed you up, flush against the wall. You almost choke on your own spit, unable to control your own reaction to seeing Jason’s stupidly perfect face staring back at your own.
You sputter in disbelief and confusion and… hurt?
He’s caging you against the wall with his stupidly muscular limbs. You couldn’t get out even if you tried; even if you wanted to.
“So, what? You brought me here to gloat?” You bite. “You probably knew I was investigating you, right? So you thought it’d be funny? To have sex with me and say all of those things and then ghost me? Real mature.”
His expression falters. “What? No- I didn’t… What are you talking about?”
You try to shove him, both of your hands pushing against his chest, but he doesn’t move, still standing solidly in front of you. You glare up at him.
“I didn’t know who you were when I met you in that bar. I didn’t know you’d find me in that alley. I didn’t… I didn’t expect to have sex with you.” He says, and you can’t read his expression, completely unable to gauge his sincerity. “Can we just talk about this?”
“What’s there to talk about? You made your choice.” You’ve recollected yourself, your poker face settling into place, flawless.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s cute, but this isn’t middle school, Jason Todd.” You duck under his arm, and he lets you, watching as you put distance between you. You drop a business card on the floor as you walk away. “If you want a copy of your file, email my secretary.”
“What? You can’t just leave… What’s your game?” He picks the card up from the ground as you glance over your shoulder. “What’s with all this? You? Corporate? Being a PI?” He waves the business card.
“I get paid millions per case. That’s my game. I’m in it for the money.” You turn away once more. “There’s nothing else to it.”
“You’re not what I thought you were.” He calls as you walk away. You hear him start to follow you, keeping his distance. Persistent, this one.
“I don’t trust anyone to complete tasks as well as I can complete them myself.” You call back, not checking to see his proximity to you. You pull open the door to the street. There’s a sleek black car waiting for you, parked by the curb.
“C’mon, sweets…” The door shuts loudly behind you, both of you now on the sidewalk.
You pivot to face him. “Don’t call me that. You aren’t the first man to pursue me, and you certainly won’t be the last. You’re determined, I’ll give you that, but it means nothing anymore.” Your hand slides into the notch of the car door handle. “So have this be a learning experience for you. You won’t be getting what you want, Wayne.”
He stiffens as he watches you spit out the name like a slur. He watches you slide into the car, shutting the door. He can’t see you behind the tint, but you can see him, even though you stare straight ahead. You can feel him watching as the car speeds down the street, leaving him behind.
You know you’ll see Jason tonight. It’s a charity gala hosted by the Waynes at Wayne Manor, after all. But you’re safe, untouchable. It’s been three months since you got engaged to Beckett Easton, heir to the Easton investment empire. Arranged? No. But you won’t lie and say that it isn’t a marriage of convenience. Beckett has a… certain reputation for sleeping around, his parents putting pressure on him to find a suitable wife in exchange for handing him the keys to their empire. Being a wealthy, high class woman yourself, and since you went to prep school with Beckett, it was almost unavoidable.
He offers his hand, helping you out of the limousine and onto the red carpet of flashing lights. Photographers snap their photos, no doubt zooming in on the large diamond on your ring finger. It’s your first big public appearance together since you got engaged out of the blue, making it major news for most trashy gossip outlets. You know you look good, you’ve always had a good sense of style. Your silver gown pours over your body like water, accentuated by the simple diamond jewelry adorning your neck and ears. Beckett’s hand slips to your lower back once he’s had enough of the photography, leading you up the outside stairs and into the manor.
You greet several people as you enter, and you nab a glass of champagne off of a busboy, just for something to do with your hands. Your eyes slide over the crowd absentmindedly, not even aware that you were looking for someone until your gaze slams into Jason. Your eyes widen in surprise before you can stop the reflex.
“Everything okay?” Beckett leans in to whisper to you.
“Yeah, just thought I saw someone.” You whisper back. Your eyes are locked on Jason’s even as you lean in to whisper in your fiance’s ear. God, what is wrong with you?
Jason’s eyes rake down your body, and you somehow, by the grace of God, stifle the shiver that threatens to shake you. You tear your gaze away, smiling up at Beckett, but you can feel Jason’s gaze on you, hot and punishing.
You pretend not to notice as he approaches. Beckett is talking to several friends of his, his arm around your waist possessively. You stand there, smiling and nodding at the appropriate times, but not truly paying attention. When Jason’s so close that you can’t ignore his presence anymore, you turn to smile at him, tugging Beckett to face him as well.
“Oh!” You exclaim pleasantly, gesturing toward Jason with your champagne flute. “This is Jason Todd, Bruce’s son. Jason, this is Beckett, my fiance.”
Beckett sticks his hand out, ever the proper gentleman. “Pleasure.”
Jason takes his hand firmly, returning the pleasantry. “Likewise.” His eyes flick between you, Beckett, and the huge diamond on your ring finger.
“Nice dress, sweets.” Jason says.
Before you can respond, Beckett pipes in. “It’s custom made from the same Italian designer who’s designing her wedding dress. Nothing but the best for her.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head, and a queasy feeling blooms in your stomach, even as you plaster a smitten smile on your lips.
Jason’s eyes flare with something imperceptible. Anger? Jealousy? Disgust?
“Beckett, sweetie, can you be a love and get me another glass of champagne?” You slide your hand up his arm, handing him the empty flute. He nods sweetly, excusing himself.
You turn back to Jason, your expression souring. “Can you please be civil? I am with my fiance for God’s sake, and you’re looking at me like a piece of meat. Beckett’s not that oblivious.”
His eyes drag over your body unapologetically this time, and your skin explodes with heat under his gaze. “I am being civil, baby.”
“Do not call me that. I am engaged.”
“That ring on your finger doesn’t mean a fucking thing. It doesn’t change anything that happened between us.” He shoots back.
“We hooked up over a year ago, move on.”
His eyes flare with frustration. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t push me away the second I bring up anything about us.”
“There is no ‘us’, Jason.”
“Do you love him?”
The question catches you off guard, and you sputter, unprepared to encounter such a question. “W-what? Of course I do.”
“No, you don’t. He bores you, I can tell.”
“Yeah? Well you piss me off, so…”
“But at least I make you feel something-”
“We’re not having this conversation. My engagement is not up for debate.” You bite, trying desperately to end this conversation before it reaches a point where you’ll either be screaming or crying.
“So that’s it then? That’s all you want out of life? To be some trophy wife, having kids with a man who will never fully understand or appreciate you?” He looks almost betrayed as he speaks. “I thought you were better than that.”
Anger flares through you. “You have no right to judge me. If I want to be comfortable, I am perfectly capable of choosing to be comfortable. He’s good to me, we’ve been friends for years. This is the right decision. I can manage everything else.”
“I think about you every day.” He admits suddenly.
“Don’t-”
“Every day. I know it’s stupid, we talked for a few hours and then we went home together just to get off, but fuck, sweets. You’re all I think about.”
“No.”
“Don’t you feel anything between us at all? Anything?”
“I’m getting married in four days, Jason.”
He stiffens, eyes widening, a look of dread passing over his face. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes. I am. And a… a one night stand from a year ago isn’t going to change that.”
“Wait.” A look of pure panic passes over his face. His hands are shaking as he goes to reach for you before dropping his hand. “Don’t marry him. Marry me instead.”
A sharp, dry laugh escapes you before you can stop it. “What? You don’t know what you’re saying. We’re practically strangers.”
“Doesn’t matter. Marrying me is better than marrying that wet blanket.”
You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Of everything you expected him to say, asking you to marry him was not one of them. You’re at a complete loss for words. For a moment, one miniscule, fleeting moment, you let yourself imagine it. Jason’s not wrong. Beckett isn’t the most exciting person. Your entire life would be sterile. Marriage. Kids. Your career would end the second you got pregnant, and you don’t even want to kiss Beckett, let alone have sex with him. But the thought is gone almost as soon as it arrived. But it was there.
Beckett approaches, handing you the fresh champagne flute. You snap back to reality, plastering a smile on and thanking him. His arm winds around your waist, turning you away from Jason and back to his friends several feet away. You glance back at Jason as Beckett leads you away, watching the look of helplessness and panic grow on his face with each step you take in the opposite direction. For once, he doesn’t follow you.
You don’t know what you’re doing here. This is stupid. You should never have hacked into the old PI database to find Jason’s address. You’re digging up the past. You should just go-
The door swings open.
Fuck my life. You’re wearing his shirt for God’s sake, the one he left at your place that night. Why are you wearing it again? Do you have something to prove?
His lips part to speak, but he doesn’t say anything, only staring down at you in shock.
You speak before you can stop yourself. You can never stop yourself from oversharing when you’re around Jason. “Beckett’s having an affair.” You look down at your feet. The sting of the affair is barely there anymore, just a dull ache. You never loved Beckett, but the betrayal still hurt.
You don’t look up. You don’t want to see the disgust on Jason’s face. This is pathetic; you’re pathetic. Showing up here, wearing his shirt, telling him your husband is cheating on you? What is he supposed to do?
“I’m sorry, sweets.” Is all he says
“Am I a terrible person for wanting to get back at him? For wanting to do the same thing to him?”
He looks even more shocked, his brain processing what you’re implying. “You’re not a terrible person-”
“Would it be wrong to also have an affair?” You look up, finally meeting his gaze. His breath hitches, his eyes searching yours.
You know it’s wrong. You know that if you do this, you’ll be no better than Beckett, but part of you wants to get back at him, and another, deeper part, just misses Jason.
“It wouldn’t be wrong at all.” He takes a small step towards you, leaning down slightly. His lips are mere inches from yours. His eyes flick down to your lips. “Do you want me to?”
You nod slowly, tipping your head so his lips meet yours. He sighs, relaxing into you instantly, his hands slipping around your waist and pressing you flush to him. He takes several steps back, pulling you into his apartment and shutting the door behind you before he presses you against it.
His lips trail down your neck as he whispers. “I’ve missed this, missed you, so fucking much.” His voice is rough, and your knees feel weak. “Tell me what you need. I’ll do anything, anything for you.”
You slip your hands under the hem of his shirt, lightly dragging your nails down his chest. He shivers, pulling away from you just to take his shirt off before planting his lips on yours again. He picks you up by your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You feel him pressing against you through his sweatpants, and your mouth runs dry; you’d forgotten how big he is.
You’re helpless, the only thing keeping you up being his hands under your thighs and the weight of him pressing your back to the wall. He carries you to his room, placing you down on the mattress beneath him. You pull your- well, his shirt over your head, tossing it to the side absentmindedly. He stands up, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down together, kicking them to the side.
You try not to stare, but you can’t stop yourself.
His fingers hook in the sides of your panties, tugging them down and tossing them away. He pulls you to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you. His hands press your thighs open and back against your chest, solely focused south. You feel one long finger slip inside you easily, pumping slowly before a second pushes in. Your breathing picks up, coming in short gasps and pants as you tense beneath his touch.
He pulls his fingers out of you abruptly and you let out a whine before you can stop it. You look down at him kneeling between your legs, catching him pulling his two fingers out of his mouth. Fuck.
You slide a hand into his hair, tugging him up so he crawls over you. You kiss him sweetly. “Remember the night we met?” You ask.
“How could I forget? I still think about it, about you, even now.” His voice sounds tortured, like he’s fighting everything inside him to hold back. You pretend not to notice when one of his hands drifts south, hiking your legs around his hips. “God, I think about you all the time. I haven’t been with anyone else since you.”
“What?” You sputter in disbelief. “You… W-what?”
His eyes are dark as he looks down at you. “I can’t. The idea of fucking another woman who isn’t you… I don’t want that.”
“Oh.” You say, unsure how to respond. He reaches over, pulling open the drawer of his nightstand and pulling out a condom. “I have an IUD.” You blurt, and he freezes.
“You… you don’t want me to use a condom?
“We don’t have to.”
“You’re letting me inside you raw? Fuck, sweets, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” He puts the condom back in the drawer before pressing his lips back to yours.
--
You never see Beckett after the divorce court proceedings, your prenup speeding up the process exponentially. He had no choice but to agree to the divorce after you told him you knew about his affair. You still have my old apartment, and you move your things back in, your dressers and closets shared with Jason.
a/n: again, this is NOT PLAGIARIZED, the original is written by me and on my ao3!!
Summary: Jason won't let you fuck him without a condom
Warnings: Domish/Bottom Jason, implied sub/top reader (reader can be interpreted as airheaded/forgetful), AMAB but no pronouns are used for reader (I think??) implied gay only oriented reader, mention of STDS, anal penetration (dildo), nipple play, (SLIGHT COERCION IF YOU SQUINT), established relationship. No use of (y/n).
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"The fuck you mean 'you don't have anything'?" Your boyfriend grunted over his shoulder, glaring daggers at your growing sheepishness. Again, you rummaged through your bedside drawer. Looking for something you already knew didn't exist. Inside sat a bottle of used lube, an abandoned book, wrung-out hair ties, and a charger, but no condoms.
Jason groaned, brows knotting as he retired from his hands and knees and into downward dog out of exasperation. Why were you like this? All this prep had his cock hard and his ass slick, for what? This is what Jason gets for trusting you to be in charge. Damn, he can never just have it easy. Pitifully, you pout. Moving over Jason's sculpted behind with your arms hugging his waist, and chin propped up on his shoulder.
Your pleas and coos fall on deaf ears as Jason's head shakes. No, he didn't care if you were tested and clean. Yes, he knows you've only been with him since he started dating. That wasn't the point. Well, okay, it was, but more importantly was the concept. Wrap it before you tap it. A lame ass sounding line, Jason was willing to live and die by when it came to his sex life. The slums were far too riddled with incurable and debilitating illnesses, fueled by miscommunication and ignorance, for him to take any risks. Lazarus Pit readily available or not.
"I cannot believe you." Jason sighed, finally turning his cheek to glance back at you. "Didn't I literally give you a heads up that I was coming over?" His frown unwound when you placated him with wet kisses up and down his neck. "Knock it off," He was quick to nip, however, as he felt your restless hips nudging against his. "We're not doing it, then."
With an overly exasperated whine, you nod, pulling away with a pursed lip. Lightly thumbing at your boyfriend's pinched waist. Jason nodded along to your murmured apology, taking a few deep breaths to calm his irritation. He wasn't mad, not really, but it had been a long day, and patrolling the night before had been even longer. Sue him if he was looking forward to getting some, okay?
"Okay," Jason echoed, patting your arm to lay off. He sat up, moving to lean against the headboard instead. "Go get the box, pick any one, I don't care." With a dismissive wave, you slipped off the bed to search the back of your closet. Returning with an eight-inch silicone dildo. At its slight wobble, Jason blushed. Again, he turned away and onto his side, spreading his assheeks. "You owe me, so get to it. Blockhead."
It hurt your heart (but mostly your cock) to work the toy inside Jason's pert hole. The hunk of a man before you sighed deep with each inch he swallowed. "Fuck..." Jason fisted, entangling his thick fingers against your sheets. "That's it, that's the stuff. Hah," He panted. "C'da been you, deep in my ass. Should have been you." Jason's free hand drifted up to his breast, palming the hefty muscle there. His nipples were so cute and brown, and unfortunately, off limits to your loving paws most nights. Sensitive, he would deliciously warn. Between his forefinger and his middle finger, Jason tweaked and rubbed over his nip.
"Baby, just shut up and fuck me." He grunted as you continued to pester him with your goo-goo eyes. Adorable, but ineffective with his eyes squeezed shut as they were. The shift of the dildo inside felt good, but lacked that human touch that made it satisfying for Jason. No pulsing veins, tickling pubes to back against, nor precise thrusts that sniped at his prostate. Just a thick and heavy thing sliding in and out of his hole. "Hah, harder. C'mon."
Jason managed back onto his knees, ditching his breast to further part his ass. "Shit, sweetheart." One of your own hands joined his, trailing over faint freckles and beauty marks before you leaned in to kiss them too. Your own cock wept between your thighs, but you chose to ignore it in priority of Jason's pleasure. Something told you that if you pushed your luck any harder, you'd be sleeping on the floor of your own room tonight.
Eventually, you found a good angle to nudge at his sweet spot, and the two of you rode up the hill from there. Jason's hand fell back to his length, twisting at his tip as you hammered his ass with the dildo. The arch he lifted from it was nothing short of erotic. "Yeah, yeah," He moaned into your pillow when he came, catching most of his load in the palm of his large hand. At his request, you left the dildo to sit in his ass as he calmed, again, frowning at your own flushed tip. "No way, deal with it yourself, jackass." Jason resorted when you nudged him about it.
smaller skinny r fucking the shit out of tall beefy jason 🤤🤤🤤🤤
-ˋˏ✄ G...Get 'em !! Get 'em ⋆✴︎
Warning: Sub! Bottom Character, Dom! Top Amab no pronouned reader, public sex (bathroom), anal penetration, crying, established relationship. No use of (y/n).
Note: Break him in half while you're at it; he probably won't notice til you're home. Also!! Only vaguely implied that you're smaller. No mention of readers weight/ height.
Edit:...I have no idea why I made him green. He's supposed to be red.
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Seeing the two of you side by side paints a...predictable picture, for sure. It doesn't help that Jason's reserved and awkward nature results in a rather intimidating disposition to most. You relish in the assumptions people make. It's in the little things. Passing the check his way, speaking through him to you, the list goes on. Jason doesn't enjoy the stereotype, especially because of how much it seems to always rile you up.
"Hrk-! Ah, ah, ah, eh," Jason hissed, white-knuckling the ceramic counter of the family bathroom you had shoved him into earlier. You're being so mean, he can't tell if the tears threatening to stream down his face are from your teasing, or your cock likewise bullying him open. It isn't his fault he's got such a hulking figure! He didn't choose to be like this! He doesn't even really tease you about it that much, god, fuck, fuck!
"No, I wasn't-eugh, I wasn't laughing, baby, I wasn't." He cries, rapidly shaking his head. The couple across the way had said something about the two of you, but Jason hadn't even heard, only nodding along because he momentarily met eyes with one of them. Next thing he knows, you're shoving at him and pulling his jeans down. Jesus Christ, you and your fucking pride. Jason never cared about any of that shit.
Ah, but it still feels really good, which only irritates him further. You always handle him so well. A tight fist at his roots, the other pressing against the arch of his lower back. He feels like a whore being bent over just like this, and he tries his best to tune out your blabbering and the music to focus on the power behind your thrusts. Even in the midst of your playful fits, your touch is still loving, and he cherishes it. "Ah fuck, right there, right there!"
On your end, he's a beauty of a mess. Shirt and leather jacket riding up to reveal the curve of his back. Fat ass parting and crying for more of your slick cock. He's just so...big, and yet still so little. Whining and thrashing like he's never been touched before. Maybe it is a little cruel, punishing him for no reason other than your pure entertainment, but it's worth it to see this sight every time. If only you had a little less decorum, you would have taken your lover right over the counter then and there to have proven your point better. Show them all who really runs this relationship in the bedroom...er, bathroom too, you guess.
Oh yeah, you're really high-strung now. You think you'll keep Jason here for a while longer. The big guy can handle it.
cw : est, poly relationship, threesome, head m. rec, penetrative & unprotected sex, guided blowjob, teasing, slight cuck kinji, pet names, kirara's thick & kinji's big, clit rubbing, creampie, swallowing, not proofread. poll winner.
ⓘ Featuring Kinji & Kirara love to fuck you right !
Whining while Kirara fucks you always feels like a humiliation ritual.
Each teasingly slow snap of her hips, the rolling grinds against you, her fingers rubbing your clit in soft circles, how were you supposed to remain quiet?
Hakari loved it, seeing his pretty girls make each other feel good until he joined in, watching up close & personal from the edge of the bed.
He'd clench his fists at each desperate noise let out & fought himself to stay put and just enjoy the show, but it could be hard.
"Kir—mngh—faster baby, please?" You cried, attempting to press your hips back against her. "I need you."
"Aw, baby." She cooed, sucking softly on the skin between your shoulder blades with a shallow thrust. "You need me? How bad?"
Kirara slowed her hips to a stop and tapped your hips slowly, rapping her fingers against the skin with a soft hum.
"So, so, so bad, Kir, please?" You let out a pathetic whine & Kirara had to hold her breath to not let out a moan. "Please, baby?"
She loved it whenever you'd beg for her.
She loved seeing Kin's reaction to you begging for her.
"Mm. Only if you're a good girl. Can you do that? Be a good girl for me & Kin?" She purred, guiding your chin to look up at Hakari.
"Yes. Yes, ma'am. I can, please just fuck me properly." You pleaded, giving your hips a little wiggle against hers & finally drew out a groan from her lips.
Kirara gave the round of your ass a light swat, starting a steady pace. "Good, good." She paused, looking over Hakari & his starstruck gaze glued to the pleasured expression on your lips. "kin baby?"
He glanced away from you, just for a moment & saw how Kirara's hips slammed against yours & visibly twitched.
Fuck, you two were so hot like this.
"Want her to touch you?" Kirara teased, stroking up your back slowly with a particularly harsh. squelching thrust. "C'mon, ask her, maybe she'll help you with your… situation."
Kirara gave a slow point to the strain of his sweatpants as you gave out a soft giggle. Kirara's hand quickly lowered to rub the small of your back again.
She always made sure to show affection while making love, even when she was teasing. The tenderness was as important, if not more important, than the actual sex.
She dragged a hand down your stomach, giving your clit a soft rub, soaking in the sharp mewl you let out, arching in pleasure at the way you clenched around her.
"Fuck, baby." He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You know what you girls do to me, don't you?"
She let out a sarcastic scoff as she pulled you up, her chest pressing almost flush to your back, giving Hakari a pretty view of your tits bouncing with each thrust.
"No idea what you mean." She cooed playfully, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as she ground her hips against yours. "We're—ah—just enjoying ourselves, right sweetgirl?"
"Mh-hmm." You nodded dumbly, leaning back against her with a whine, grasping lazily at her arm & holding it steady as you rubbed yourself against her fingers.
Hakari loved this, seeing how good Kirara made you feel. The dripping mess between your thighs on a perfect, sloppy view.
Seeing each thick inch of Kirara disappearing into you with every thrust.
How your greedy cunt eagerly sucked her in with your thighs quivering. He imagined himself in your girlfriends place & let out a pathetic whine.
"Babe." He rasped, reaching out to grasp one of your hands, guiding it over his aching length. "Help me out here, won't ya?"
"Aw, sweet girl, look." Kirara cooed, cupping your breasts as she pressed you back against the bed. "He's all needy for you."
Hakari shot her a quick pout for taking away his view, but smirked as he took in the flush on her cheeks & the slight shake of her abs.
She was getting close & with the sound of your mewls against the comforter, you were too.
"Mn. Kin." You cooed, dragging one of his thighs closer, nipping at the skin while meeting his gaze, whimpering at Kirara's needy thrusts. "S'big baby." You stroked him slowly through his boxers, resting your cheek on his thigh.
"I'll show you big, baby." He crooned, roughly tugging his boxers down to free himself.
Hakari grasped his base, pumping once & grinned down at you. "Open up." He tapped his flushed tip against your lips, groaning as you did.
You eagerly swirled your tongue around his needy tip, grasping his hip as you bobbed slowly.
"Oh… look at her, Kin baby," Kirara whined, resting her chin on your shoulder, thrusts falling frantic. "Our good girl feels good, no?"
"God, so fucking good." Hakari agreed, guiding you to take him deeper, Kirara's hips faltering at the noise of you choking around his length & finally collapsed on top of you, spilling her seed deep inside you with a sharp mewl.
She sighed shakily, reaching out to pull your hair from your cheek & help guide you against Hakari.
"Oh god, just like that." Kinji groaned, his head lulling back as his eyes screwed shut. "I'm going to—" He cut himself off with a loud, needy moan, grip instantly loosening in your hair as you gagged around him.
Kirara let go too, sitting up behind you to watch as you pulled off Kinji, wiping your bottom lip as just a little bit of his cum dribbled out down your chin.
"You did so good for me." Kirara cooed, rubbing your hip gently. "Knew you could be a good girl for me if you really wanted."
COMPUTA, how to get ISHIGAMI SENKU to like you?! COMPUTA???
Pairing: Senku x reader
COLLEGE AU
Synopsis: you were done getting done dirty so, you ask your good ol buddy Senku to whip you up a love potion by Valentine’s Day.
Has poorly written smut at the end, 💚 that will be my indicator for the scene.
A/n: enjoyyyyyyy this very rushed piece of literature!
W/c: 15k
I apologize in advance for grammar mistakes as I barely proofread it cause I skimmed going crossed ! And I apologize if I made Senku too ooc!
you chewed on your cheek as you tapped the tip of your pen on the paper. "What is it about me that's just so…" Your words trailed off because you couldn't find the appropriate phrase for your love life situation.
Case one. In other words, situationship one. You started talking to this guy from one of your classes.
What went wrong? You found him kissing another girl at a party is what went wrong. And that was AFTER he stood you up for your arcade date the very same day, saying he forgot about it 20 minutes after you'd been standing at your meet up spot and a hour after your conversation about said date.
Safe to say you but tapped him once or twice… okay three times. Anyways he was K.O. And the girl well she was pissed and ended up curb stopping him into the floor.
Case two. You really liked this guy, it was like he was made just for you. Best dates, beautiful face, nice body. And he was well versed in romance books as well as the females in taste books. You could only imagine how he was in bed. And you wouldn't have had to imagine it had you not seen his phone buzz with a pizza delivery contact.
The fuck kind of pizza delivery says "I miss you baby. When can I see you again?" Piece of shit.
You texted his phone and he had your contact name as Uber Eats . Fucking Uber Eats.
You may have gotten very violent but it was okay-cause, fucking Uber Eats? Did you look like a bitch who Ubers people food?
Those were your first and so far last… whatever you can call those and that was a year ago and you were sick and tired of being single.
Especially with Valentine's Day coming up in a month and 7 days. You would hate to have to stop your roomies fun time cause your stuck in the dorm cause your single.
Your friends are out the question cause surprise, surprise, every single one of them have someone and you have no one.
"Hey nitro." You rolled your eyes, looking up from the empty paper. "I told you. Stop calling me nitroglycerin man, it cringe and ugly as hell."
He cracked his neck, pulling out the chair beside you to take a seat. "Shouldn't you be in a lab somewhere making love to the chemicals and those excruciating formulas?"
He gave you a look of almost pure disbelief. "Never in my 20 years of living, did I ever expect to here someone sexualizing science. Something is seriously wrong with you. You need to stop reading or watching whatever it is that you're watching."
You took a sip of the latte. "Then I'd be just as boring and annoying as you." He scoffed, "you already have both of those checked off." Before you could curse him out he started speaking again. "Anyways, what are you doing with this paper? Another assignment?"
Your eyes trailed off from his down to the paper. "Sort of…" Your voice was quieter than before.
You both sat in silence as Senku watched you stare at the blank paper with a troubled look on your face.
He propped his elbow up on the table to hold the weight of his face as he continued to stare, wondering what's got that violent hot head so somber and quiet.
"Hey," his voice was soft. The back of his index and middle fingers tapped against your soft cheek. "What's wrong."
You pursed your lips, crossing your arms. "I just don't get it." You glared at the blank piece of paper. "Do I have, 'cheat on me or waste my time' written on my forehead?"
"Of course you don't, i'd tell you that much if you had that written on your head. But…" he trailed off rummaging through his bag to pull out a magnifying glass. "Let me see if it's written in your foreheads discoloration."
"Senku Ishigami—"
you were cut off by him grabbing your jaw turning your face towards his as he actually inspected your forehead.
You couldn't help but smile seeing his eye so magnified by the magnifying glass as he inspected your skin.
"No." He said in a sigh, "I don't see anything of the sort on you." He put it away. "Though of course I wasn't expecting to see something like that written on you anyways."
"I didn't either, so I was wondering why you actually checked."
He smiled letting your face go. "Just to make sure. You didn't get it tatted in your skin color on your forehead. I don't put that pass you when you're drunk."
"I wouldn't do something so degrading." He hummed, "maybe for a billion dollars you would."
"Hell yeah I'd tatt that on me for a billion dollars!" You smiled.
He stared at you for a moment, then let out a short exhale through his nose—not quite a laugh, but close. "Tch. That's exactly the kind of short-sighted thinking I'd expect from you." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Let me break this down in terms your impulsive little brain might actually absorb."
You opened your mouth to protest, but he kept going.
"A billion dollars is just a number. A human construct. It can be printed, inflated, burned, rendered worthless by a market crash. But you—" He pointed at you, index finger aimed directly between your eyes. "—are a one-time biological event. Your exact neural architecture, your muscle fiber ratio, the way your ridiculous temper spikes your cortisol levels faster than a lab rat on stimulants... There is no currency, no amount of gold, no digital number in a bank account that can reproduce you. Your genome alone contains roughly 3.2 billion base pairs. You're already worth more than a billion dollars just in raw genetic data, and that's before factoring in consciousness."
He picked up his own drink and took a sip, utterly casual.
"So no. Don't degrade yourself by slapping a price tag on your forehead. It's scientifically inaccurate, and if you aren't buying me some savy tech to mess around with then there'd be no point." He shrugged.
Your eye twitched. "You know, had you left that last bit out I probably would've kissed you out of impulse."
He gave you a look of distaste. "I'm glad I added that on then."
"Ugh, I'm seriously convinced you're asexual at this point." He hummed, "I mean I just don't see the point in it. And you, no doubt show me exactly why, time and time again, that it is infact pointless. The only how it would be is if two people were to drink a love potion and fall in love with each other."
You could only agree with his statement. He was right to see no point in love. College sure as hell wasn't making it look any more appealing with your love life troubles.
"I guess you're right. If only I did have one though that would be cool…" your head whipped in his direction with a face full of glee and anticipation.
"Senku could you—"
"No."
"You asshat! You didn't even let me finish!"
He stood up from his chair shaking his head as he grabbed his bag. "I already know what your gonna say and it's preposterous."
You slammed your hands on the table as you stood up, your chair pushing back in the process. "Just think Senku do you know how well it would sell?! What kind of Nobel peace prize you'd get for making a freaking love potion?"
"No, no, no. The closet thing to a love potion is aphrodisiac. I'm a scientist but I'm not a crazy scientist out of touch with reality."
"I'll say." You muttered not so quietly. He flicked your forehead and tossed his empty cup in the trash.
"Come on Senku! Just do me this one favor pluh-ease! Man!" You tugged on his arm practically yanking him back into you.
You frowned, tugging him with a bit more strength and he crashed into you his nape hitting your nose and forehead.
He snatched his arm from you. "Stop pulling me like a damn ragdoll!"
"Dude you are seriously like… ridiculously light. Are you malnourished or something??"
Senku knew he didn't have the capacity to put up with too much more of your stupidity. Especially since he had Anatomy class with the big oaf next.
"Fine, i'll make the damn love potion just stop being so damn annoying." He dug in his ear in frustration with his hand on his hip.
Your eyes lit up just as much as your smile did. You couldn't contain your excitement and you jumped on the man, completely tackling him to the floor. "Thank you Senku! Can you try to have it done before Valentine's Day?"
"I can try but no promises alright? Now get your heavy ass off of me." Your mouth dropped open. "I'm not heavy you're just weak abnormally weak, actually." Your tone changed to that of a worried one mid sentence.
You picked yourself up off of him. "Alright, in return for making the love potion you are to come with me to the gym 4 days a week."
"I'll be damned if I go in that bacteria infested place." He said follows by a small, 'thank you'. As you helped him off the floor.
"Fine then, in your dorm. You probably can't even lift your body weight."
Great now he felt like he was talking the taiju. Senku shook his head. "Fine I can work with that." He said softer, more exhausted.
"Now I'm off to class, don't cause any trouble or hit anybody."
You smiled, "I won't!"
You didn't cause any trouble.
You did, however, become completely insufferable to one Senku Ishigami.
It started the next day, when you showed up at the chemistry lab with two coffees and an aggressively cheerful, "Good morning, partner."
He didn't look up from the beaker he was sterilizing. "I don't recall agreeing to a partnership."
"Too bad. I'm your project manager now." You set the coffee beside his elbow and pulled up a stool far closer than strictly necessary. "What are we working on?"
"We aren't working on anything. I'm working on isolating a dopamine agonist. You're working on being quiet."
"I can do that."
He shot you a deeply skeptical look. "You've never been quiet in your life."
"That's not true. I'm quiet when I sleep."
"You talk in your sleep. You told me this yourself."
You opened your mouth, closed it, and settled for pouting into your coffee. Senku made a small sound, not quite a laugh, but adjacent and returned to his work.
You didn't stay quiet, obviously. But you did learn to be useful in small ways. You handed him pipettes when he asked. You scribbled notes when he muttered observations aloud. You wiped down the counter when he spilled something that smelled aggressively like burnt sugar.
. . .
Three days into the "love potion project," Senku had officially commandeered a corner of the campus chem lab with a quiet, terrifying intensity that made other students avoid eye contact. Beakers. Burners. A centrifuge he definitely didn't have permission to use after hours. His notebook was a mess of formulas you couldn't begin to decipher, but you'd appointed yourself Head Note-Taker anyway, which mostly meant leaning over his shoulder and asking questions that made his eye twitch.
"Is that supposed to be pink?"
"No. Move your head, you're blocking the light."
"Can I add the next thing?"
"You can add nothing. You can sit there and not touch anything. That's your contribution."
You huffed, plopping onto the stool beside him and propping your chin in your hand. "I'm helping."
"You're helping a ton by hovering, thanks," he sarcastically praised without looking up. His fingers moved with surgical precision, pipetting a clear liquid into a vial. "There's a difference. Hovering introduces variables. Your body heat alone is raising the ambient temperature by approximately zero point three degrees."
"You're welcome. I'm keeping your samples warm."
He finally glanced at you, and there it was — that flat, unimpressed stare he wore like armour. But you were learning to spot the cracks. The slight downturn at the corner of his mouth that meant he was suppressing something. A smirk, maybe. Or just a obnoxious sigh.
"You want to help?" He slid a blank sheet of paper toward you. "Write down anything I say that sounds like a side effect. If this works — and it won't — it'll probably cause cardiac arrhythmia or temporary blindness."
You scribbled SIDE EFFECTS: heart explosion, blindness at the top. "Got it. Very love potion like."
"Romance is just a dopamine cascade with a cultural narrative slapped on top," he muttered, turning back to his vials. "The narrative is the problem. The cascade I can engineer."
You paused, pen hovering over the paper. "Wait. You actually think you can engineer the cascade?"
He didn't answer right away. His hands slowed over the equipment, and you watched something shift behind his eyes, that rare, hungry spark that only appeared when a problem was just out of reach. When it was actually worth solving.
"Dopamine, oxytocin, norepinephrine," he murmured, half to himself. "If I can create a compound that triggers simultaneous release — timed release, that's the hard part — it wouldn't be love. It would be the chemical experience of what humans mislabel as infatuation." He pushed his goggles up onto his forehead and turned to you, and the intensity in his gaze pinned you to your stool. "The question is, can I isolate that experience without the irrational attachment that follows. Because that's the part that makes people stupid."
Your mouth went dry. You weren't sure when he'd gotten so close — maybe he'd leaned in, maybe you had, but you could count his eyelashes now. The fluorescent lab lights made his red eyes look almost translucent at the edges.
"What about the part that makes people happy?" you asked, quieter than you meant to.
He stared at you for a beat too long. Then he turned back to his vials, but his voice had lost its clinical edge. "That's just serotonin. Boring."
You wrote SIDE EFFECT: emotionally constipated scientist under your other notes. He pretended not to see that, for now at least.
The first workout session was, objectively, a disaster.
Senku's dorm room was too small for two people to exist in comfortably, let alone exercise. You'd shoved his desk against the wall to clear a patch of floor barely big enough for a yoga mat, and he was currently staring at it like it might bite him.
"I can't do a push-up."
"Everyone can do a push-up."
"I've never had to do a push-up. My body is optimised for cognitive function, not gorilla activities."
You crossed your arms. "You called me heavy. Now you have to pay the price."
"That was a factual observation based on gravitational force and—"
"Drop and give me five, Senku."
The glare he leveled at you could have stripped paint. But he lowered himself onto the mat with the enthusiasm of a man approaching his own execution, and you absolutely did not stare at the way his shoulder blades pressed against his t-shirt when he positioned his hands.
It was... bad.
His arms shook. His back arched in all the wrong places. By rep two, he was making a sound somewhere between a grunt and a death rattle, and by rep three, he collapsed flat onto the mat with a dull thud.
"I'm done."
"You did three."
"And now I'm done. The human body has limits. I've found mine." He rolled onto his back, one arm draped dramatically over his forehead. His shirt had ridden up, exposing a sliver of stomach , a pale strip of skin just above his hipbone and your brain short-circuited for exactly one second before you wrestled your gaze to the ceiling.
"Okay, new plan." You dropped down beside him on the mat, deliberately leaving space between you. He didn't close it. Neither did you. "We're doing assisted push-ups."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I help." You hovered your hands over his back, not touching. "When you go down, I'll make sure you don't die. When you come up, I'll give you a little boost."
He turned his head on the mat to look at you, and the angle was dangerous. Red eyes, half-lidded with exhaustion, watching you with something unreadable. "This seems pointless."
"Shut up and push."
He pushed. And you touched him.
Your palms settled on his back — light at first, barely there — and his muscles tensed under the contact. You felt the heat of him through his shirt, the subtle shift of bone and sinew as he lowered himself down. Down. Up. Your hands rose and fell with him, guiding, steadying.
"Three," he counted, strained.
Your fingers pressed slightly harder on the ascent, giving him the barest lift. You felt his breath hitch.
"Four."
You realized you'd moved closer without meaning to. Your knee was pressed against his hip now. Your shadow fell across his back, and you could see the individual hairs at the nape of his neck, slightly damp with sweat.
"Five," he exhaled, and collapsed.
Your hands slipped (or maybe you let them slip) and you caught yourself with your hands, braced on either side of his waist. He was flat on his stomach beneath you, breathing hard, and you were hovering over him. Your chest nearly touched his back. Your lips were level with the curve of his ear.
Silence. Nothing but his breathing and yours.
"Your hands are still on me," he said, muffled against the mat.
"Do you want me to move them?"
A pause. Longer than it should have been.
You were so close could hear his heartbeat through his ribs, too fast for someone who'd only done five assisted push-ups. Or maybe that was your own pulse, hammering in your ears.
"Your heart rate is elevated," you murmured.
"Yours too."
"I just did push-ups."
"So did I. Metaphorically."
Something shifted in the air between you. He turned his head, just enough that one red eye caught yours over his shoulder. His lips were parted. His cheek was flushed. And you were close, so close you could see the faint ring of darker red around his iris, close enough to count his eyelashes, close enough that if you just leaned down—
His phone buzzed on the desk.
You scrambled off him with a speed that was frankly embarrassing, and he sat up with a sharp inhale, running a hand through his hair. His shirt was still rucked up. You stared pointedly at the wall.
"That's enough for today," he said, his voice rougher than usual.
"Same time tomorrow?"
He didn't look at you. "Yeah. Tomorrow."
. . .
Three weeks in and the love potion wasn’t cooperating. Senku’s notebook had tripled in size, and the trash bin was full of shattered vials. Every failed batch made him crankier, but it also made him more absorbed, which meant he stopped swatting you away when you leaned over his shoulder to read his notes.
“That’s phenylethylamine ,” he muttered, pointing at a formula. “Naturally occurring. Found in chocolate. It’s part of the infatuation cascade, but it metabolizes too fast. I need a stabilizer.”
You nodded like you understood. “So… chocolate’s a love drug?”
“Barely. It’s a marketing gimmick.” He pushed his goggles up onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes. “The real trick is oxytocin. The bonding chemical. But that’s typically released through physical touch, not ingestion. I’d need to trick the brain into producing it without the actual contact.”
You propped your chin on his shoulder without thinking. “Couldn’t you just, like, synthesize it?”
He went very still beneath you. “I could. But nasal sprays are inelegant. I’m aiming for an oral compound. Delayed release. Targeted receptors.”
You hummed against his shoulder blade, and you felt his spine straighten almost imperceptibly. “You smell like chemicals,” you murmured.
There was a faint hint of something crisp underneath.
“That’s acetone.” He answered.
“Smells good.”
He turned his head just enough to side-eye you. “Acetone is a solvent. It dissolves things. That’s not ‘good,’ that’s olfactory confusion.”
But he didn’t tell you to move. And you stayed there, chin on his shoulder, breathing in acetone and something warmer beneath it, until the timer on the centrifuge beeped and he shook you off with a grumble.
Later that night, after all your classes and a shitty workout that could barely be called such, you were lying in your dorm bed, you stared at the ceiling and replayed the moment. The stillness of him. The way his voice had dropped half a register when he said olfactory confusion.
You pressed your palm to your chest. Your heart was doing the skip again. "ah shit…" you muttered pulling the blanket over your head. You definitely had a crush on this little quirky science nerd.
. . .
"You have a crush on the mad scientist?" Kohaku seemed genuinely stuck. "But how? Why? he's not even your type— Wait—"
"Right I don't have a type. Good looks and a nice personality are the winners every time."
She tucked her lips raising her eyebrows in a motion of disbelief. "Yeah and the shit heads before were good looking with a nice personality." The sarcasm was practically oozing out of her pores right now. You took a long sip of your drink as she continued.
"Senku also is not good looking and his personality is shitty as hell." You disagree with a shake of your head, "sure he's blunt and doesn't have a romantic bone in his body but honestly out of everyone here who isn't taken, I'd bet my life Senku wouldn't even have the thought to cheat if we did get together. I'd be competing with the lab not a person."
She gave you a look similar to this flight streamer meme you saw on Tiktok, she was so done with your bullshit. "But I wouldn't be competing much because, I mean being in the lab with him isn't bad. I've actually learned more with Senku than I did in chemistry in high school. And it's a lot more fun just seeing him so… I dont know… passion driven?"
"Name one thing you've learned about that I wouldn't know." You smacked your lips, "You're a phys ed major. You would know everything about the body and hormones and all that stuff!" You tried to reason.
"Yeah don't give me that bullshit, name one."
You huffed, Your eyes wondering and falling on the cookies on your plate. "Oh!" You started with a snap of your fingers. "Did you know Phenylethylamine is a naturally occurring monoamine alkaloid and trace amine that acts as a central nervous system stimulant in humans? I mean most of it breaks down and metabolizes before it reaches the brain but yeah, did you know that?"
She pursed her lips trying to hide the smile. "No I didn't." You did a mini celebration of stuffing a chocolate chip cookie in your mouth. "I told you I was learning stuff with him."
She let out a sigh. "Alright I'll trust you on it but if he hurts you I'm not letting it slide." You smile. "I wouldn't stop you." You reassured her, placing your hand on top of hers giving it a squeeze.
"Well there's not much to stop, because Senku is like… Seriously… Weak." You winced even having to have those words come out your mouth. And Kohaku was back to looking at you as if you'd grown two heads.
"Oh hell no! No friend of mines is gonna be with some dude who can't even throw a proper punch let alone keep up with you in the bedroom." She whispered the last part you could feel the heat rising up your neck. "Kohaku! I'm not some rabbit in heat!"
"Girl I seen you're tumblr account. You follow Tonycries and Sweetheartucism. I know what you are." She sounded so sure of herself. And you were nothing but jaw dropped at this information that was supposed to be yours only.
"How did you know?" She shook her head, "If you didn't want people to know you really should turn off your tumblr notifications."
Thats a no can do.
You gasped. "He also knows practically everything about me so I don't have to explain." You smile as the pros just kept stacking themselves only heightening your fondness in the male.
Kohaku pursed her lips once more, propping her chin on her palm. "When you put it like that I guess you two weirdos are a match made in weirdness."
You flipped her off.
Still although you had this new found information about yourself you had no plans on confessing to the boy at least not any time soon, you think.
. . .
The weeks settled into a rhythm before you realized you had started looking forward to it. Lab sessions turned into workouts( that kohaku decided to join in on to help him and you), which turned into half-finished conversations over text, the kind that started with some random fact Senku sent like it was urgent and ended with you waking up to your phone slipping from your hand.
He was still Senku. Blunt, sarcastic, impossible to impress intentionally. He still acted like sentiment was some useless variable that only got in the way.
But there were little changes.
A stool already pulled out beside his worktable when you came in.
An explanation repeated a second time, slower, without making you feel stupid for needing it.
The brief glance he gave you after something finally worked, like he wanted to see if you had caught it too.
And before you knew it you were just 3 weeks away from valentines day.
. . .
You were planted on the stool, hunched over his notes, trying to decipher a formula that looked less like chemistry and more like greek language. Senku had been muttering to himself for the last twenty minutes, pacing behind you, his footsteps a steady pace you'd grown weirdly comforted by.
Then the pacing stopped.
"You've been staring at that page for forty-three minutes," he said from directly behind you. "Your retention rate is probably abysmal right now."
"Maybe your handwriting is abysmal."
He ignored that. You felt him lean down, his presence a sudden warmth at your back. "Move over."
You scooted sideways on the stool, expecting him to correct your notes. Instead, he reached around you and slid a clean Erlenmeyer flask onto the counter, followed by a small beaker of clear liquid and a glass pipette.
"I think it's time you graduated from passive observer to active participant," he said, his voice closer to your ear than strictly necessary. "You're always complaining about not understanding the practical applications."
"Because you never let me touch anything."
"Correction. I never let you touch anything unsupervised." His hand appeared in your peripheral vision, gesturing toward the setup. "This is a phenolphthalein titration. A classic acid-base reaction, but the indicator makes it worth watching. Phenolphthalein is colorless in acidic conditions, but once the solution becomes even slightly basic—"
"It turns pink," you finished, remembering a vague high school demonstration. "Right?"
"Magenta, technically. And don't interrupt." But there was no bite in it. He moved closer, his chest grazing your shoulder blades as he positioned the flask in front of you. "The sodium hydroxide is already in the flask. You're going to add the hydrochloric acid, drop by drop, until you hit the equilibrium point. The endpoint is sharp. You'll know it when you see it."
He placed the pipette in your hand, and before you could fumble it, his fingers wrapped around yours. His palm was cool against your knuckles, his grip precise and steady.
"Slowly," he instructed, guiding your hand toward the flask. "One drop at a time. Don't rush it."
You exhaled. You hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath.
Drop. The solution swirled, clear as water. Drop. Still clear. Drop. You felt Senku's other hand settle on the counter beside you, caging you in on one side, his body a warm line of pressure against your back. You could feel his breathing: measured, even; and it was completely at odds with the way your own pulse was hammering.
"Wait for it," he murmured, and you felt the vibration of his voice travel down your spine.
Drop.
The liquid in the flask erupted into a vivid, brilliant magenta so sudden and so saturated it looked like a gemstone catching light. You gasped, a small, genuine sound of delight, and your free hand flew up to grip his wrist without thinking.
"Pretty," you breathed.
"Precision chemistry. The color change indicates a pH shift of exactly—"
You turned your head to look at him, and the explanation died on his lips. He was already looking at you.
Not the flask.
You.
His face was inches away. You could count his eyelashes. See the ring of darker crimson around his irises. Your hand was still in his, the pipette frozen mid-air, and his other hand had somehow shifted to rest on the edge of the stool beside your hip.
"Your pupils are dilated," he observed, his voice lower than before.
"So are yours."
"That's—"
"If you say 'data,' I'm going to hit you."
His lips curved, a barely-there smirk that softened the sharp lines of his face. "I was going to say 'unexpected.'"
"Liar."
Neither of you moved. His thumb traced the back of your hand deliberate, or maybe unconscious, you couldn't tell anymore. The magenta liquid glowed softly in your peripheral vision, but you couldn't look away from him. His breath fanned warm across your cheek. His forehead almost brushed yours.
"Senku."
"Yeah."
His forehead touched yours. His eyes fluttered half-closed. You felt the tip of his nose graze the side of your own, and your lips parted on a shaky exhale, and he was right there, close enough that if you just leaned forward the barest fraction of an inch—
A timer beeped.
You both jolted. The pipette slipped from your slack grip and clattered onto the counter, spattering tiny magenta droplets across the notes you'd spent forty-three minutes staring at.
"That's the centrifuge," he said, his voice rough at the edges. Hoarse.
"Better get that."
"Yeah."
Neither of you moved for a long, aching second. His hand was still curled around yours. His forehead was still pressed to yours. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your shoulder, faster than it had been a moment ago.
Then he pulled away. The cold air rushed in where his warmth had been, and you sat there on the stool gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.
He crossed to the centrifuge without looking back. But his ears were pink. Pink enough that phenolphthalein would've had nothing on them.
You looked down at the scattered magenta droplets on his notes, and you pressed your fingers to your own lips. Oh, how bad you wanted to press your lips against his.
The following morning your phone buzzed with a invite from a widely know sophomore, Ryusui Nanami. The nepo baby, and the only nepo baby you actually liked. It was a birthday bash.
Later that day you sat in a chair opposite to the one and only—
"If you have something to say, say it woman. You'll go crosseyed with all that looking up and down." Senku looked at you through his black frames, finger now hovering over the keys on his computer. "Are you going to Ryusui's party?"
Senku gave you a knowing look. "Do I look like the type to waste my time on that?"
Obviously not, but it didn't hurt to ask. "I figured I'd ask since Ryusui is a friend of yours too." He gave you that familiar half-smirk without looking away from his screen. “Ryusui knows me well enough to know I don’t do parties. Especially not ones with zero practical benefit. You have fun, though. I’ll probably be in the lab, so you can tell me how it went when you get back.”
"I'll think about it." you leaned back with a lazy smile.
. . .
You said that but here you were standing in front of your mirror all dolled up and looking beautiful for the party. Sure you looked pretty but now that it actually came too it. You weren't exactly feeling a party. Plus what was the point?
You didn’t want the noise, the sweat, the small talk shouted over bass. You didn’t want to watch your friends pair off into corners or dodge the third guy in a row who’d ask for your number and then forget your name two minutes later.
Now you wanted to take it all off and crawl into bed.
You sit down on the edge of your bed and stare at your phone. Your thumb hovers over the group chat. Then it drifts, almost involuntarily, to a different thread. One with a lot fewer emojis and a lot more dry one-liners.
The typing bubble appears. Disappears. Appears again. You don't hesitate to click on the chat now, a smile already making its way to your face before you even see his message.
Senku: I ordered some pizza, no pineapple on it, and a two litter of you know what. Come over so we can share and talk about the love potion.
You immediately reply 'omw!! You better not be lying about my favorite drink!' And kick off your heels and undress and dress into something more comfortable, some sweats and a cute quirky hoodie you snatched from Senku. You slipped into your slides and you were off with a text to your friends telling them not to wait for you.
The apartment door swings open before you even knock.
Senku is standing there in sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, his glasses slightly askew, his hair pulled back with a few look white to green strands framing his face. He couldn't help the smile smile that you pulled to his face when he saw you saw excited at his door step. He quickly stepped to the side letting you in.
"We're not talking about the love potion. I wanna give it a rest for tonight. Instead You can find something for us to watch, Since I don't think you'd like my choices all that much." You walked in taking your shoes off at the door. "Thanks cause, Although i like bill nye the science guy I don't think I want to watch that while I'm eating, no offense."
He shook his head closing the door. "None taken." He said and placed a pair of house shoes in front of you to put on, which you easily slipped into and walked deeper into his apartment styled dorm.
His apartment was quiet. Not the sterile, empty quiet of a place that wasn't lived in, but the comfortable quiet of a space that had settled around its occupant. The main room was a modest living area with a small kitchenette tucked into the corner—full-size fridge, two-burner stove, a rice cooker on the counter that looked more used than the actual stove. A futon couch faced a low coffee table cluttered with a laptop, a stack of journals, and the pizza box he'd promised. The lighting was warm, not fluorescent, and there was a throw blanket draped over the back of the futon couch that you were pretty sure his dad had sent him. (really nice man btw)
Your eyes drifted to the hallway branching off from the living room. Two doors. One was slightly ajar, his room, you assumed, from the glimpse of a desk and more books stacked in precarious towers. The other door was closed.
Oh, how you sometimes wished you'd applied yourself more in high school. Your dorm was a shoebox with a microwave and a roommate whose boyfriend practically lived there. This—this was a palace. A quiet, lavender -scented palace.
You sat on the couch, immediately grabbing the throw blanket to toss over your shoulders and get comfortable. The fabric was soft, worn-in, and smelled faintly of lavender—which surprised you, honestly. You'd expected Senku to be the type to buy whatever detergent was cheapest.
"Your roommate go to the party?" you asked, tucking your feet up under you.
"My roommate moved out a while ago. It's just been me."
You paused mid-blanket-adjustment. "Wait, seriously? He just... left?"
"End of last semester. He said he couldn't sleep when I was running simulations at three in the morning." Senku shrugged, setting two glasses on the coffee table. "His loss. The university never bothered to reassign anyone, so I've had the place to myself."
You looked around the apartment with fresh eyes—the two closed doors in the hallway, the full-size fridge, the bathroom you didn't have to share with twelve other people. "So you've just been here. Alone. In a two-bedroom apartment."
"That's what I said."
"Do you know how much I would kill for this kind of setup? My dorm is literally a closet with a microwave."
"I've seen your dorm. It's not a closet. Closets have better ventilation."
You threw a pillow at him. He caught it without looking.
You laughed and clicked on a rom-com you'd seen a dozen times but never got tired of. Light, familiar, easy to half-watch while you ate. Senku didn't comment on the choice, just handed you a glass of Sprite and settled back into the couch cushions.
The movie started. You ate pizza straight from the box, licking grease off your fingers, and Senku made a comment about how napkins existed for a reason, and you told him to stop being a neat freak, and he said he wasn't a neat freak, he just didn't see the point in making a mess when the solution was right there, and you shoved a napkin in his face and told him to relax.
At some point, your head ended up on his shoulder. You weren't sure when exactly it happened—one minute you were sitting up, the next you'd sort of... leaned. He didn't push you off. After a moment, his arm shifted along the back of the couch, not quite around you, but close enough that you could feel the warmth of him near your shoulders.
You smiled against his shoulder and turned your attention back to the screen. The couple on-screen was having one of those big, dramatic fights where everything was a misunderstanding that could've been solved with a single conversation. Usually, you found those scenes frustrating. Tonight, they just made you feel grateful. Whatever this thing with Senku was—friendship, something more, something you hadn't named yet—it was straightforward. No games. No wondering where you stood.
"Hey," you said, not lifting your head.
"What."
"I'm glad you texted."
He didn't say anything. But his arm slid down from the back of the couch to rest across your shoulders, light and careful, and you felt him exhale, long and slow, like he'd been holding something in without realizing it.
"Me too," he said.
Somewhere between the next two movies you found yourself on top of senku laying on his chest in a half asleep state.
"Hey." Your name fell off his lips softly, barely above a whisper.
You made a sound that was supposed to be "yeah?" but came out more like a hum.
"If you wanna get out of that shoebox of a dorm..." He paused. You felt his chest rise beneath your cheek. "My door is always open."
The words hung in the quiet of the apartment. You blinked, sleep retreating just enough for you to process what he'd said. My door is always open. Not "the spare room is available." Not "you could crash here if you need to." His door. Always open.
You lifted your head just enough to look at him. His face was closer than you expected—your noses were inches apart. His glasses were crooked. His hair was a mess against the couch cushion. But his eyes were steady on yours, and there was something in them you hadn't seen before. Something careful. Something that looked a lot like hope trying not to show itself too loudly.
"You mean that?" you asked, your voice scratchy with sleep.
"I don't say things I don't mean."
"Like, move in? For real?"
"For real." He said it casually, like it wasn't a big deal, but his hand still rubbing circles on your back.
"For real." He said it casually, like it wasn't a big deal, but his hand was still rubbing slow circles on your back, and his heartbeat under your palm had picked up just enough to betray him.
You let the offer hang there for a second, letting yourself actually imagine it. Your own room. A real kitchen. A bathroom you didn't have to share with half the floor. And Senku. Coffee in the mornings. Pizza at midnight. The quiet, lavender-scented hum of this place that already felt more like home than your dorm ever had.
"Okay," you said.
His hand paused on your back. "Okay?"
"Yeah. I mean, you're offering me a bedroom and a kitchen and no roommate's boyfriend walking around in a towel. Why would I say no?"
"There are probably reasons."
"I don't care about those." You dropped your head back down to his chest, your smile pressing into his shirt. "I care about having a bathroom I don't need flip-flops for. I'm in."
He didn't answer right away. Then his hand started moving again on your back, and you felt his chest rise with a breath that came out just a little shakier than usual.
"That was fast."
"I'm a decisive person."
"You cried over which cereal to buy last week."
"Decision-making is different from cereal. Cereal is important." You tilted your head up just enough to catch his eye. "This one was easy."
His expression flickered, something soft, something he didn't quite hide fast enough. And then he looked away, reaching up to adjust his glasses even though they were still crooked.
"And you can't complain about the acetone smell. It's a non-negotiable."
"I've never complained about the acetone smell."
"You made a face once."
"I made a face because you almost set the counter on fire. That had nothing to do with the acetone."
He huffed, and you felt it more than heard it, a soft rush of air that might have been a laugh if he'd let it be one. His arm tightened around your shoulders, just a fraction.
"You're really moving in," he said, quieter now.
"Looks like it."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Neither of you moved. The movie had ended a while ago, the screen dark, the apartment quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the distant sound of wind against the windows. You should probably get up. Go back to your dorm. Start figuring out boxes and move-in dates and whatever else came with upending your entire living situation.
Instead, you let your eyes close again, your cheek pressed to the soft cotton of his shirt, his heartbeat steady under your ear.
"Hey, Senku?"
"What now."
"Thanks for not going to the party."
His thumb traced a slow arc across your shoulder blade. "Parties are overrated."
"You've never even been to one." You smile.
"I don't need to go to know they're overrated. I have evidence."
"You have assumptions."
"I have you, showing up at my door in my hoodie instead of at Ryusui's with a champagne glass. That's enough evidence."
You smiled against his chest. "That's almost sweet."
"It's just an observation."
"Sure it is."
He didn't dignify that with a response. But his hand kept moving on your back, slow and steady, and you let yourself sink deeper into the couch, into the warmth, into the quiet certainty that for the first time in a long time, you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
The following day was a blur of boxes and dust and running up and down stairs that, by hour two, you were genuinely starting to resent.
Packing had been easier than you'd expected. Your dorm was tiny, a shoebox, as Senku liked to remind you, so there wasn't much to pack. Three mugs. Your microwave. The ice maker you'd splurged on last summer. A lamp shaped like a mushroom that you'd found at a thrift store. Your fluffy rug, the pink one that shed everywhere. Your TV, which was small enough to carry under one arm. Clothes. Photos. A polaroid of you and Kohaku at last year's spring festival. The throw pillows you'd bought specifically because Senku said he hated them.
That was it. That was your whole life, boxed up and ready to go.
Kohaku showed up at nine in the morning, hair pulled back, looking like she was ready to run a marathon.
"You're really doing this," Kohaku said, lifting a box labeled MUGS + KITCHEN STUFF like it weighed nothing. "Moving in with the guy."
"He's not 'the guy.' He's Senku."
"That's what I said."
You grabbed your lamp and the rug, leaving the desk where it was—it belonged to the university anyway. "Are you going to be weird about this the whole time?"
"Probably." She started down the hallway. "Has he always looked that tired, or is that new?"
"That's just his face."
"Hm."
The walk across campus was cold. Your breath fogged in the air. You'd made this walk so many times before, but today your arms were full of your belongings, and the weight of it felt significant in a way you couldn't quite name.
When you got to the apartment, the door was propped open. Senku was inside, dragging the spare room's old desk into the hallway. He'd already cleared out the broken lamp and the boxes of his old roommate's stuff that had been sitting in the corner. His hair was messier than usual, and there was a dust smear across his forehead.
"Your stamina's improved," you said, stepping over the threshold.
"Kohaku's been making me do lunges." He took the rug from your arms without asking and carried it into the spare room. "She said my form was a disgrace to human physiology."
"I heard that," Kohaku called from the stairwell.
"It wasn't a secret." He said louder
Yuzuriha floated in behind you, already unwrapping the onigiri. "I brought snacks. Where should I put them?"
"Kitchen counter's fine." Senku reappeared, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Fair warning, the cabinet space is limited. I have beakers in the top shelf."
"Why do you have beakers in your kitchen?"
"They're clean."
"They're still beakers."
"Beakers are just cups with measurements on the side."
You left them to that debate and went into the spare room. It was small but bright—a window facing the campus green, a closet with actual doors, a light fixture that didn't flicker. Your mushroom lamp was already plugged in by Yuzuriha, casting a warm yellow glow across the bare floor. Your rug was rolled out in the center of the room, pink and fluffy and completely at odds with Senku's aesthetic. It was perfect.
Kohaku appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "Not bad."
"Right? I have a closet. A real closet."
"I saw." She crossed her arms and watched you unroll the rug the rest of the way. "You know, I was skeptical."
"About whate?"
"About him." She jerked her chin toward the living room, where Senku was explaining to Yuzuriha why beakers were objectively better than regular cups. "I thought he was all ego. Too much brain, not enough heart. But he's different with you."
You sat back on your heels and looked up at her. "Different how?" You knew he was different with you, you were just a sucker for hearing how much your soon to be boo adored you so much.
"Patient. Attentive. He actually listens when you talk." She shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "I still think he needs to work on his core strength, but... he's not an asshole. Not to you, anyway."
"That's so sweet."
"It's an observation, not a compliment. Don't get used to it."
You smiled and went back to arranging your rug. But you caught Kohaku's expression before she pushed off the doorframe, the faintest hint of approval, quickly hidden.
…
Your new living arrangements were, in a word, heavenly.
The apartment was quiet when you needed it to be. The bathroom was always free. The kitchen had a full-size fridge that didn't hum like it was on its last legs, and you could cook at two in the morning without worrying about waking up a roommate who had an 8 a.m. class. The lavender-scented throw blanket had somehow migrated from the back of the futon to your bed, and Senku hadn't mentioned it. Either he hadn't noticed or he'd decided it wasn't worth the argument.
You'd expected to see more of him. That was the whole point, wasn't it? Living together, sharing space, the easy domestic rhythm you'd both slipped into so naturally. But the universe had other plans. The week after your move-in was brutal. Two major projects landed on your desk at the same time, both with deadlines that made your stomach clench. Your classmates, predictably, were useless. One of them kept promising to finish his section "by tonight" and then went radio silent. Another submitted work so sloppy you had to rewrite it from scratch. Your group chat was a graveyard of unanswered messages and passive-aggressive thumbs-up reactions.
And then there were the discussion posts. God, the discussion posts. Two hundred words on a topic you couldn't care less about, plus two replies to classmates whose posts were just as uninspired as yours. You found yourself typing phrases like "I really appreciated your perspective" and "you raised some interesting points" while your soul slowly left your body.
Senku was just as buried. You heard him leave early most mornings, the soft click of the front door, the shuffle of his bag, and he didn't come back until late. His own project load was apparently monstrous. Something about simulations that kept failing and a professor who didn't believe in extensions. He'd text you sometimes, a dry observation about a classmate or a complaint about the lab equipment, but actual face-to-face time was rare.
You'd cross paths in the kitchen at odd hours. Him, bleary-eyed, waiting for the coffee maker to finish. You, hunched over your laptop at the counter, typing furiously while a microwave burrito spun in circles. He'd grunt. You'd grunt back followed by a lazy chuckle. It was practically a love language at this point.
One night, you came home close to midnight, your bag heavy with textbooks and your brain feeling like static. The apartment was dark except for the lamp in the living room. Senku was on the futon, his laptop open, his glasses reflecting a spreadsheet you couldn't begin to parse. He looked up when you walked in.
"You look like shit."
"Thanks. You look like you haven't slept in days."
"2 days I havent slept a wink." He pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. "There's leftover rice in the fridge. I made too much."
You dropped your bag by the door and shuffled to the kitchen. The rice was still in the cooker, warm and waiting. You didn't bother with a plate. Just grabbed a spoon and ate straight from the pot, leaning against the counter with your eyes half-closed.
Senku appeared in the doorway. "That's unsanitary."
"You're unsanitary."
"Brilliant comeback." He grabbed a spoon of his own and joined you at the pot. No plate for him either. "How's the project?"
"One teammate ghosted. Another one sent me a paragraph that looked like it was written by a chatbot. I have three discussion posts due tomorrow and I haven't started any of them." You took another bite of rice. "You?"
"Simulation crashed again. Lost six hours of data. Professor wants a revised proposal by Friday." He paused. "I also forgot to eat lunch. And breakfast, probably."
"Senku."
"I had coffee. Which has calories." he quickly added the last part.
You didn't have the energy to lecture him. So you just pushed the rice pot closer to his side of the counter, and the two of you stood there in the dim kitchen light, eating cold rice at midnight, too tired to talk but too tired to be alone.
It wasn't romantic. It wasn't anything like the movies. But it was real, and when Senku's shoulder bumped yours and stayed there, you didn't move away.
"Two more days," he said quietly. "Then the deadline's over."
"Two more days for me too," you echoed.
"We should do something after. Get out of the apartment."
"Like a date?"
He didn't answer for a moment. Then: "I was going to say 'get pizza,' but if you want to call it a date, that's acceptable."
"You're such a romantic." You roll your eyes.
"I'm pragmatic. Pizza is efficient."
You smiled into the rice pot and let your head drop onto his shoulder. He didn't tense up. Didn't pull away. Just shifted his weight slightly so you fit better against him, and kept eating rice like this was the most normal thing in the world.
The next two days passed in a blur of deadlines and caffeine. You submitted your last discussion post at 11:47 PM with all the enthusiasm of someone signing a terms-and-conditions agreement, then closed your laptop and stared at the ceiling for a solid ten minutes. Done. Finally done.
Senku's deadline had wrapped up the same evening. You knew because you'd come home to find him passed out on the futon, his laptop still open on his chest, a half-empty mug of cold coffee on the floor beside him. You'd pulled the throw blanket over him and gone to bed.
The next morning, you woke up to the smell of actual breakfast. Eggs. Rice. Something sizzling in a pan.
You shuffled into the kitchen in your pajamas—his hoodie, sweatpants, hair stuffed away in your bonnet, and found Senku at the stove. His hair was pulled back, kind of messily. He was poking at a pan of scrambled eggs like he wasn't totally sure what they were supposed to do.
"You're cooking," you said, your voice still scratchy.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Trying to. Sit down."
You sat. The table had two plates on it, two mugs, and for some reason your mushroom lamp was in the middle. The rice cooker was going. The eggs looked a little uneven but they smelled good.
"When did you learn to make eggs?"
"Taiju's mom sent me a cookbook a while back. Figured I should probably use it at some point." He scraped the eggs onto your plate and sat down across from you. "Eat. Before it gets cold."
You picked up your chopsticks. He did the same. Neither of you talked for a bit. The eggs were decent—maybe a little too much salt, but you weren't about to complain, you'll just wake up earlier to help next time. The rice was warm. The coffee was fresh.
It was weird, how much had changed. A month ago you were in a shoebox dorm eating microwave ramen and dodging your roommate's boyfriend. Now you were here. Real kitchen. Real breakfast. A guy who made you eggs even though he'd clearly rather be sleeping.
"You're staring," Senku said, not looking up.
"I'm thinking." You took a sip of coffee. "Hey. You said something about pizza earlier this week. Before the deadlines hit. Is that still happening?"
"If you want it to. Or..." He set his chopsticks down and leaned back in his chair. "There's a meteor shower tonight. Peak visibility is around 10 PM. The observatory's open to students, but most people don't bother because it's cold and 'stargazing is boring' or whatever." He adjusted his mugs position. "I was going to go either way. You're welcome to join."
"Senku Ishigami, are you asking me on a stargazing date?"
"I'm asking you to observe a predictable astronomical event in the company of someone who won't ask stupid questions about aliens." He paused. "If that fits your definition of a date, then yes."
You grinned into your coffee. "What time should I be ready?"
"Nine-thirty. Bring a jacket. It's cold out there."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay, I'll go." You reached over and stole a bite of his eggs. "But you're buying me pizza tomorrow."
"I already bought you pizza last week."
"And now you're buying it again."
He looked at you for a second, something soft flickering behind his tired eyes. Then he pushed his plate toward you. "Just take the rest. You're already stealing it anyway."
You didn't argue. "Oh and next time just be straight about taking me on a date no need to beat around the bush. You know I'll say yes."
"I was beating around the bush?"
You smiled into your next bite, "yes, you were."
…
The observatory was at the edge of campus, perched on a hill that overlooked the whole town. You'd walked past it a hundred times but never gone inside. Tonight, the main telescope was open to students, but Senku bypassed it entirely and led you to a flat patch of grass just outside the dome.
"The telescope's fine, but the real view is better with the naked eye," he said, spreading a blanket on the cold ground. "Meteor showers are about breadth, not magnification. You want to see as much of the sky as possible."
"I'll take your word for it."
You settled onto the blanket beside him, your shoulders touching, your breath fogging in the cold air. The sky was impossibly clear. No clouds, no moon, just an endless sweep of stars with the faint, dusty ribbon of the Milky Way cutting through the center.
Senku pointed. "There. That's the radiant. The Perseids. Well, not the Perseids, wrong time of year, but a smaller shower. The meteors will look like they're coming from that point."
You followed his finger but didn't see anything yet. Just stars. So many stars…
"How come you know so much unrelated to science?"
"Well, science explains a lot of things. There's always more knowledge to be learned."
"Most people just look at stars and think they're pretty."
"Most people are intellectually lazy." He glanced at you. "You're not most people."
"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"Don't let it go to your head."
The first meteor streaked across the sky—a quick, silver flash that was gone almost before you could register it. You gasped and grabbed his arm without thinking.
"There! Did you see that?"
"I saw it. There'll be more."
There were. Every few minutes, another streak of light, so fast and bright it felt like the sky was putting on a show just for the two of you. You lay back on the blanket, your head pillowed on your arms, and Senku did the same beside you. His hand found yours in the dark. His fingers were cold, but his grip was steady.
"Hey," you said quietly.
"Hm."
"Thanks for this. For the stars. For the eggs this morning. For..." You gestured vaguely at everything. "Being you."
He was quiet for a moment. Then his thumb brushed across your knuckles.
"You've been happier lately. Since we started spending more time together. Since you moved in. Your mood's improved. You're not snapping as much. Less stress-eating at midnight." He paused. "I know I said I couldn't make a love potion. That the whole thing was a failure. But I think maybe I was overcomplicating it. Love isn't something you can synthesize in a lab—I already knew that. But it's also not some big dramatic thing you have to prove. It's just... this. Being around each other. Paying attention. Showing up."
He turned his head on the blanket to look at you. His face was half in shadow, but his eyes caught the starlight.
"Listen. You know I don't care much for grand gestures. They're inefficient and usually performative. But I know if I want to make you feel secure in all of this, I have to actually ask. So." He adjusted his grip on your hand, a nervous habit you'd catalogued weeks ago. "Can I be your boyfriend?"
You stared at him for a second. Then you laughed—not at him, just at the wording, the way he'd flipped it around like he was applying for a position.
"Usually people say 'will you be my girlfriend.'"
"I'm surprised you haven't noticed by now that I'm not exactly categorized with the regular masses."
"No," you said, squeezing his hand. "You're not. And yeah. Of course I'd love it if you were my boyfriend."
He exhaled, and some of the tension left his shoulders. "Okay. Good."
"Good?"
"That's what I said."
…
The week before Valentine's Day, Senku finally finished the love potion.
Not the love potion, he'd been clear about that from the start. What he'd actually made was something closer to a highly targeted oxytocin-dopamine compound, designed to temporarily mimic the neurochemical state of early infatuation without the irrational decision-making that usually came with it. He'd spent the last two weeks refining it, running simulations, documenting every failure and near-success in a notebook that had grown to twice its original size.
You'd watched him work on it in fragments, an hour here, a late night there, but mostly you'd been buried in your own deadlines. So when he walked into the living room holding a small, sealed vial of faintly shimmering liquid and announced, "It's done," you almost didn't believe him.
"It's done?"
"Done enough to submit. I'm not calling it a love potion. The official name is 'Synthetic Infatuation Cascade Inducer, Batch 7.' But it's stable. It works. Animal testing would be the next logical step, but since I don't have access to lab rats and I'm not about to test it on a human without ethics board approval, I'm handing it over to Professor Hayashi. She has contacts in the neuroscience department who might actually be able to do something with it."
He set the vial on the coffee table and dropped onto the futon beside you. He looked exhausted, purple shadows under his eyes, his hair a disaster even by his standards, but there was a quiet satisfaction in his expression that you'd only seen a handful of times before.
"I already started drafting the thesis," he added, almost as an afterthought. "For my doctorate program applications. It won't be relevant until I'm actually applying, but having preliminary research on the books won't hurt."
"Senku. You're not even a junior yet."
"And?"
You stared at him. Then you leaned over and kissed his cheek, quick and light. "You're so prepared, man I really need to step up my game."
"If you need any inspiration let me know, I'll be more than happy to help." You smiled smothering him in kisses for a good 3 minutes before you finally let him off, not that he minded in the first place.
…..
It was finally that day, drum roll please……
VALENTINES DAY!!
You woke up to a campus that had gone aggressively, nauseatingly pink.
Hearts dangled from every lamppost. Someone had draped a giant banner across the student center that read LOVE IS IN THE AIR in glittering red script. Couples were already out in full force—holding hands on the quad, exchanging stuffed animals outside the dining hall, kissing on benches like they were filming a montage for a rom-com. One guy was literally serenading his girlfriend with a guitar outside your building. At 8 a.m.
You pulled your hood up and walked faster.
It wasn't that you hated Valentine's Day. You'd had good ones before; cheesy high school dates, flowers delivered to your locker, the year your mom sent you a care package with heart-shaped cookies and a card that made you cry. But those memories felt distant now, buried under the last year's worth of situationships and disappointments. And this year, you had Senku. Real, official, boyfriend Senku. Which was great. It was more than great.
But you also knew exactly what kind of boyfriend he was.
He wasn't going to serenade you. He wasn't going to fill your room with balloons or write your name in rose petals across the quad. That wasn't him. It had never been him. And you'd made peace with that. You had.
At least, you thought you had.
The morning passed in unremarkable fashion. You had one class at ten, then another at noon. Senku was already gone by the time you woke up, a note on the counter in his terrible handwriting: Lab. Centrifuge broke. Don't wait up. You crumpled it and tossed it in the trash.
Your friends texted you photos of their Valentine's Day hauls. Yuzuriha sent a picture of a massive bouquet with the caption "from taiju. he picked them himself. they're all weeds." Kohaku sent a more elegant arrangement, pale pink roses in a ceramic vase she'd probably made herself. Even your old roommate, the one whose boyfriend had practically moved into your shoebox dorm, posted a photo of a candlelit dinner with the caption "so lucky 💕." And that was the night before valentines day.
You double-tapped it and kept scrolling.
By the time you met Senku at the lab that afternoon, you'd managed to lower your expectations to something approaching realistic. A box of chocolates, maybe. A card if he'd remembered. Nothing extravagant. Nothing performative. Just... something.
He was hunched over his laptop when you walked in, the centrifuge humming in the corner, his goggles pushed up into his hair. He looked up briefly. "Hey. The centrifuge is fixed. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"There's a 12% chance it explodes. I'm willing to risk it."
You stood there for a moment, waiting. He didn't get up. Didn't pull anything out from behind his back. Didn't even say happy Valentine's Day.
"Anyway," he said, turning back to his screen, "I'm almost done here. Give me twenty minutes and we can walk back together."
"Sure," you said. "Take your time."
You sat on your usual stool and pulled out your phone. A new post from Kohaku: a video of Taiju trying to bake heart-shaped cookies and setting off the fire alarm. You smiled, but it didn't reach your chest.
How did I even start liking him? The thought surfaced before you could stop it, quiet and unwelcome. He's nothing like what I thought I wanted.
It wasn't cruel. It wasn't even untrue. Senku wasn't romantic. He wasn't demonstrative. He didn't bring you flowers or write you love notes or do any of the things you'd grown up dreaming about. He was blunt and sarcastic and sometimes so buried in his own head that you had to physically wave a hand in front of his face to get his attention.
But then you thought about the cold rice at midnight. The mushroom lamp on the breakfast table. The way he'd offered you a room in his apartment like it was obvious, like you belonged there. The way he'd asked to be your boyfriend instead of the other way around, because he'd never done anything the usual way in his life.
You pocketed your phone and waited.
Twenty minutes later, you were walking back to the apartment in silence. The sun had set, and the lampposts had switched on their twinkly heart-shaped lights. A couple passed you on the sidewalk, giggling, their arms linked. You looked away.
"You've been quiet," Senku said.
"Just tired."
"Hm."
He didn't push. You didn't elaborate. The silence stretched until you reached the apartment door.
He unlocked it and stepped aside. "After you."
You pushed the door open, and the first thing that hit you was the smell. Lavender. Stronger than usual, like someone had just spritzed every surface in the apartment. You frowned and took a step inside—
And stopped.
Rose petals. A trail of them, soft pink and cream, scattered across the floor in a winding path that led down the hallway toward your room. The lamp on the coffee table was lit, casting a warm glow over the petals, and the whole apartment smelled like lavender, something faintly sweet and something reallyyyy good.
"What—"
"Go," Senku said behind you, his voice quiet. "I'll be right here."
You followed the petals. Your heart was hammering now, confusion and disbelief tangling in your chest. The trail led past the bathroom, past his bedroom, and stopped at your door, which was slightly ajar.
You pushed it open.
On your bed was a plushie, the round, soft, ridiculously cute one you'd pointed out at the campus bookstore three weeks ago and immediately put back because it was too expensive. Beside it, a bouquet of flowers. Not red roses, you'd never been a red roses person, but a wild, colorful arrangement of daisies and sunflowers and lavender sprigs that looked like it had been put together by someone who actually paid attention. A box of your favorite chocolate. A DoorDash gift card with a sticky note on it that said $100 in Senku's terrible handwriting. A small velvet box.
And next to the box, a portable charger. Pink. Compact. Exactly the brand you'd been complaining about needing for the past month.
You picked it up, your throat tight. "You got me a portable charger."
"Your phone is always dying," Senku said from the doorway. "It's inefficient. Now you have no excuse to disappear for three hours."
You turned around. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression carefully neutral. But his ears were red. Bright, unmistakable red.
"Senku."
"Open the box."
You did. Inside, nestled on a small cushion, was a necklace. Delicate. Silver. A tiny pendant shaped like a star—or maybe a molecule; at this point it could have been either, with a small clear stone in the center that caught the lamplight.
"You did all this," you said, your voice coming out smaller than you meant. "The petals. The flowers. The plushie. You don't—this isn't—you don't do stuff like this."
"No," he agreed. "I don't."
"Then why—"
"Because you do." He pushed off the doorframe and took a step toward you. "You pretend you don't care about this stuff, but you do. I've watched you. You get this look on your face when you see couples doing the big gestures. Not jealous. Just... wistful. Like you're happy for them but you're also wondering why nobody's ever done it for you."
You opened your mouth. Closed it. He wasn't wrong.
"I don't care about grand gestures," he continued. "They're performative and inefficient and most people do them for the wrong reasons. But you're not most people. And if there's one thing I've learned from all those weeks in the lab, it's that love isn't about what makes sense to me. It's about showing up for the other person in the way they need to be shown up for." He adjusted his glasses. "You needed this. So I did it. Simple."
"It's not simple," you managed. "This is—Senku, this is the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me."
"Then your previous partners set a depressingly low bar."
A laugh burst out of you, wet and unexpected. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm accurate." He took another step closer. "You want to know what I would have put on the card?"
You nodded, not trusting your voice.
He pushed off the doorframe and took a step toward you. Then another.
"You know the lab's been quieter lately. Since you stopped coming as much." He stopped in front of you, close enough that you could see the nervous bob of his throat. "I used to think I preferred the quiet. Fewer distractions. More work gets done. But now I'll be in there running a simulation or whatever, and I'll catch myself staring at the door. Waiting for you to walk in and ask a question you should already know the answer to."
A laugh hiccuped out of you, half sob. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering.
"I'll be at my desk and I'll hear someone laugh down the hall and for a second I think it's you, and then it's not, and the whole room feels... I don't know. Dimmer. Less interesting." He tilted his head, studying your face. "You did that. You made my favorite place boring when you're not in it. That's annoying, by the way."
"Senku—"
He kissed you. Soft. Quick. Right between your eyebrows.
"Your voice is the loudest thing I've ever heard and I miss it when it's gone." He kissed your forehead. "You hum when you're concentrating. You don't even notice you're doing it." He kissed your temple. "You scrunch your nose up when you think something's stupid, which is often, because you have a low tolerance for nonsense." He kissed the corner of your mouth.
You were crying now. Not the ugly kind, just tears slipping down your cheeks while you stood there holding a portable charger and a velvet box and trying to remember how to breathe.
"You make everything louder," he said, quieter now. "Brighter. More chaotic. I didn't know I wanted that until you started showing up in my lab with your terrible handwriting and your coffee orders and your chin on my shoulder." He wiped a tear off your cheek with his thumb. "I don't know what I did before you moved in. I think I was just... working. Existing. It was fine. But it wasn't this."
He kissed your cheek. Your nose. The corner of your mouth again.
"You're the best variable of my life, that i hadn't accounted for," he murmured against your skin. "And I don't ever want to go back to a lab that doesn't have you in it."
The tears were still slipping down your cheeks, and you were about to pull him closer—actually pull him in, your hands already fisting the front of his shirt—when he suddenly pulled back.
"Hold on."
"What?"
"The timer." He was already stepping toward the door, adjusting his glasses with the hand that wasn't covered in your tears. "I put something in the oven before we left the lab. It should be done in about—"
The kitchen timer beeped, right on cue.
"You timed this," you said, your voice still thick.
"I time everything." He glanced back at you from the hallway, and his expression flickered—softer, just for a second. "Wash your face. It'll be ready when you come out."
You stood there for a moment, surrounded by rose petals and sunflowers and a plushie that was softer than anything you'd ever owned, and you pressed your fingers to your lips where his had just been. Then you did what he said. Washed your face. Took a breath. Walked out.
The apartment smelled incredible. Savory and warm and familiar—your favorite. You didn't even have to ask what it was. You just stood in the doorway of the kitchen and watched him plate it with the same concentration he usually reserved for pipetting chemicals.
"You made my favorite."
"I noticed you hadn't had it in a while. The ingredients weren't hard to source." He handed you a plate without looking at you. "Go sit. Pick a movie. Something that won't annoy me."
"You're so bossy."
"You're so slow."
You grabbed the plate and settled onto the futon, pulling the lavender throw blanket over your lap. He sat beside you—closer than usual, his knee pressed against yours—and you put on something light, something you'd seen before, something that didn't require much brainpower. The food was perfect. Exactly what you needed. You ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the movie flickering in the background.
Then you set your fork down.
"Hey."
"Hm."
"I was really sad today."
He didn't say anything, but his hand found yours under the blanket.
"Not because of you," you continued. "Well. Kind of. I just—I woke up and everyone was posting their Valentine's stuff and I thought... I knew you weren't going to do any of that. And I'd made peace with it. I thought I'd made peace with it. But then I saw you in the lab and you didn't even say happy Valentine's Day and I just..." You shook your head. "I had this moment where I forgot why I liked you. Like I actually forgot. I was walking home thinking, 'He's nothing like what I wanted.'"
Senku was quiet. His thumb traced your knuckle.
"And then I walked in and it smelled like lavender and there were rose petals on the floor and you'd gotten me the stupid plushie I wouldn't shut up about three weeks ago." Your voice cracked. "You remembered. All of it. Even the portable charger. Even the DoorDash gift card because you know I hate cooking when I'm stressed. You remembered everything."
"I pay attention," he said quietly. "It's not that hard."
"It is, though. For most people. My ex didn't even remember my coffee order, and I dated him for four months. You remembered my Sprite. You remembered my favorite food. You remembered the plushie." You turned to look at him, and your eyes were wet again, but this time it didn't feel heavy. It felt light. "You saw me. All day, I felt invisible, and you saw me."
He didn't answer with words. Just reached up and tucked that same strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your jaw.
"Thank you," you whispered. "For seeing me."
"I always see you." His voice was barely above a murmur. "I can't not see you. You're the most noticeable variable in any room."
You laughed—wet and bright and full—and leaned forward until your forehead touched his.
"I love you," you said.
His breath caught. Just a little. Just enough for you to notice.
"I know," he said. And then, softer: "I love you too. Obviously."
💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 S M U T 💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 (I listen to west coast by lana on repeat to write this)
And he kissed you, slow and sure, his hand sliding into your hair, your fingers curling into the soft cotton of his shirt, the movie forgotten, the plates half-empty, the apartment warm and quiet and full of lavender.
You pulled back just enough to catch your breath to look at the needy, furrowed expression growing on his face.
He let out a small sigh as you climbed on to his lap, one of his hands settled on your waist as he pulled you in again. His other hand traveled slowly up your shirt…
the pad of his fingers brushing so softly, tracing up your spine. And his hand settled on your nape pushing your face closer to his.
Your mouth watered you could feel your eyebrows furrowing with need, God, how beautiful this man was…
His head was tipped back against the futon cushion, eyes half-closed, lips parted as he dragged air into his lungs. The line of his throat was exposed—pale, elegant, a little damp with the sheen of effort. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
you shifted on his rolling your hips back as you lowered your lips to his throat. When you leaned in and brushed your lips just beneath it, he inhaled sharply, and you felt the vibration of the sound travel through his skin to your mouth. You kissed it again, softer, and this time he made a noise low in his chest, half surprise, half something else entirely, and his Adam’s apple jumped under your lips like it was trying to escape your attention. You smiled against his throat.
"Are you nervous?"
You nudged his chin up with your knuckle, and he let you—surrendered, actually, with an exhale that was almost a sigh. The lamplight spilled down the newly exposed expanse of his throat: smooth skin, the subtle ridges of his trachea, the dip right above his collarbone that looked like it was made for your mouth.
He tried to blow his nervousness off with a easy chuckle, but it came out raspy, barely even considered a laugh as it settled into a slight groan when you placed wet kisses from his lips…
to his jaw….
his adams apple…
His grip on your nape tighten for a nanosecond when you kisses his ear. You titled your head just enough to watch his lips part, his adams apple bob, and his eyes to flutter at the feeling.
Your name barely sounded out of his lips. "Yes? Senku." You whispered so soft.
A groan ripped from his throat when you sucked on the skin just behind his ear. "StasticAClly speaking," his voice cracked.
"Senku don't start you bullshit." You said not-so-softly. Your hips rolled against his. "I don't get turned on by talking stats." You explained.
You weren't even gonna let him finish explaining, so he'd just have to show you without the explanation.
His hand slipped down from your neck and out of your shirt. He nudged you off of him.
Had you ruined the moment?
Senku stood up grabbing your wrist. You were yanked up from the couch, to your surpise, and led to his room.
As soon as he cross the threshold you were yanked into the room with strength you didn't know he had. The door slammed close as your back hit the door.
His teeth hitting yours as he smashed his lips against yours. Your hands pinned down on either sides of your head.
Your legs pressed into his leg that separated yours.
His hands dragged down your wrists, tracing your curved until his hands looped under your shirt and pull it right off of you.
His knee shifted higher as his hand came up pulling at your hips by your belt loop. A soft sound falls from your lips as his knee rubs against your aching heat, while he unbuttons your pants and move to pull them down revealing a light pink lacey set.
Senku noticed how you tried to hide away, averting your eyes subtly trying to hide yourself from his gaze.
The pad of his lower thumb brushed against your bottom lip, your jaw going slack in his hold. He tilts your head up, it felt as if his crimson eyes were devouring you.
He brought his mouth down to yours moving his hand to cup your jaw as he kissed you, slow, deep. His tongue pushing to brush against the roof of your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut as your fingers combed through his hair scratching at his scalp trying to pull him impossibly closer.
"Open." He kissed, "your eyes." He kissed through. And you opened your eyes letting his gaze drink in your every reaction.
The kiss parted with a string of saliva And he kissed wet slow kisses on your neck allowing your eyes to flutter closed and your head to fall slack against the door with a soft thud.
Your name rumbled low from his lips, "Tell me… What are you thinking about right now."
What were you thinking about?
His tongue pressed against your ear, that tingle in your throat finally eased with a soft moan. "I'll stop if you don't say anything." Your nails dig into his scalp as if to keep him there.
He rubbed slow circles on your hips. "N— othin'," the word barely comes out.
"Are you sure?" He asked again his lips stopped, they hovered over your kiss. His hand ran over your stomach your body flinching in as he skips your pussy and goes for your clenched thigh, prying his two fingers between to go up… and up to press while he traced his thumb up your pink centre.
You push your hips against his hand. He watches you, he could tell by the whine in your voice, the desperation in your expression, you were close.
Senku pulled his hand away and you opened your eyes, only for him to cover them. "Don't open them."
It was dark, the heat of him was inches away, and your whole body was straining toward it like a plant toward light. Your lips parted. "Your breathing's changed," he murmured. "Deeper. Slower. Your lips just parted. Are you imagining something?"
"Yes."
"Tell me." His voice was so soft.
You swallowed as your mind wandered off or maybe it didn't. you couldn't tell if it was him actually touching or if your mind was playing trick on you.
"Described it." His voice guided you. "More detail. What are my hands doing? Where? What does it feel like?" — until you were trembling, until the fantasy was so vivid behind your closed eyelids that you could almost feel his fingers on your skin even though he still hadn't moved.
"Good," he breathed. "Now open your eyes." You did. He was right there, inches away, his pupils blown wide, his expression caught between clinical fascination and something much hungrier.
"You're so worked up right now that a single touch might send you over the edge," he said, his voice rougher than before. "I could kiss your neck and you'd probably—" His thumb brushed the hollow of your throat, feather-light, and your whole body shuddered. "—yeah…. Like that…That's exactly the response I was looking for."
He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. Your eyes rolling shut. You felt his head dip as he hooked his arm under one of your legs and threw it over his shoulder. He hooked two fingers on the side of your panties and tugged them to the side.
His adams apple bobbed again, his mouth watering. He pressed a wet kiss to your clit, then another, longer the second time. Your lips parted curses falling from your lips when his tongue lapped and pressed between your folds right underneath you clit.
You pushed your hips into his face and his face deeper into your hips "Fu—fuck." You whimper grinding down on his face. You grabbed the door handle so tight your knuckles turned a lighter shade as you stared down at him.
His face between your legs, smushed against the fat of your thighs, the blush on his cheeks and his hurried gaze.
You threw your head back getting louder, pitchier. buckling and rolling your hips.
Almost, you were almost there…
His cheeks hallowed as he sucked on your clit prodding at the bud it felt so good there was a tinge of pain. He pushed your hips more into his face as he slides down to your hole. His tongue lapped up your slick, his adams-apple bobbing up and down with every slurp.
his tongue felt so good but it wasn't enough it only made you more needy. You needed something bigger, thicker. Fuck you were past the point of desperation.
You pulled him up and back him up on to the bed as you tugged as his belt then his pants buckle and zipper. He raised his hips, making it easier to pull him from his restraints.
You would take a proper look at his dick later. You climb on his lap, reaching behind you to grab his dick and line him up with your hole and your sat down.
Your eyes rolled close. You were seeing flashes of white, gasping for air. Senku let out a groan broken into a whimpering moan at the end his head fell back against the plush of the bed.
You placed your hands on his chest, moving your hips up and down. His hands came to your hips to pull you back down to meet his hips thrusting up.
Your thighs were starting to burn but you were getting closer the more his tip prodded at your spot. "Sen—" You couldn't even finish saying his name.
The coils in your lower stomach were tightening and tightening. Senku's dick throbbed and twitched in you. He was close, his pace got sloppy more desperate just as your did.
Senku clenched his teeth throwing his head back a loud groan cutting through the air as you squeezed around him trembling coming undone. He road you through your high and quickly pull out cumming all over his stomach.
You fell forward a wave of exhaustion coming over you.
That was the best. You thought, it was the best sex you ever had.
You let out a sigh as he kissed your forehead. For a moment you both laid there in silence threatening to fall asleep just like that.
"Come on, You have to use the bathroom and take a shower." He rasped
He was right but man you were exhausted, and your legs felt weak.
You both showered together and… Somehow ended up going another round in the process and when you finally got out. Senku had to haul you to your room and help you put on some pajamas and he did the same, crawling into the bed right next to you.
THE END FOR NOW MAYBE
Chat how did I do??? genuinely, it's been so long since I tried to write sex, the shame and embarrassment were almost too much but i pushed though can gave you as much as I could with no sleep and about 2 hours of going through: how to write smut/sex for dummies, sex dictionary and a few other things. I would love pointers if you're open to giving them. I have to say although its not a long drawn out slow burn college au with academic rivals to lovers, sharing a dorm room cause iit was included in their scholarship. I still like it... It's sersously better than nothing... Finding senku college au's is so hard for me usually they're all cannon and long extremely old but if i do find a good one the author stops upload (save me from this senku drought)
Thanks for reading my banter! Have a Bless better day lovlies!
Warnings: 18+. Well they have quick sex, yeah...anyways, I wrote this for funsies cause work has been kicking my ass so I'm not going to go back and proofread or edit anything. Happy Halloween, hope this doesn't make you cringe that badly. 🎃
Note: No petrification. They are both college students & idrc if he's ooc, it's fanfiction, get over it. <3
Summary: Senku and [Y/N] get distracted during the finishing touches of his costume.
TL: @akiqvq @xgiia💖 (Apologies in advance LMAO)
Pairing: Senku Ishigami x Fem!Reader
︽❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀︾
Senku wanted to go as Einstein; he had already gotten all the materials necessary. So he wondered how he ended up agreeing to be Chucky out of all the characters in this world.
Actually, he didn't want to go at all. Staying inside watching whatever shitty horror film she brought would've sufficed, preferred even. However, when she jutted out her bottom lip, widening her eyes and looking up at him like a dejected girlfriend, he caved.
He grumbled as he finally finished dying his hair orange, putting down the can and looking at himself. What stared back was him in an obnoxiously striped shirt with colors that shouldn't go together, and the sleeves clung to his arms like a second layer of skin.
It also had a V-shaped neckline, which he definitely knew wasn't close to the original look. The overalls were undone on one side, per her particular request.
Clicks of heels could be heard outside his room, the door was opened, and in came his girlfriend with the biggest smile on her face.
"You put your hair down." She giggled, reaching out to delicately touch his hair.
A complaint died out in his throat, lips parted as he took in her costume. Tiffany Valentine. The white corset was tightened as much as possible, dipping her waist and pushing up her breasts. Her skirt was short, showing off the garter belts connecting to her thigh-high sheer stockings.
Instead of simple heels he had imagined, thick combat boots with a high stiletto stared back at him. Senku was rendered absolutely speechless, looking up to meet her shy smile. The red, deep color on her lips called out to him in a way he didn't completely understand right now.
She tugged on a small leather jacket, completing her look. "Do you like it?"
"It's...something else." [Y/N] didn't really know what to make out of that answer, feeling her shoulder slightly drop. He was her boyfriend; she should've remembered he didn't did really care much for anything sexy.
"Sit." She walked away from him, pulling his office chair out and patting the seat. Senku sat without complaint as she took out multiple makeup bags from her backpack and what he assumed to be special effect stuff.
She wiped away the specks of orange that sprinkled onto his skin, drying it afterward. A fluffy brush was tickling his nose, and he suppressed the urge to sneeze while she was right in his face.
Something cold was placed on his forehead, her fingers lightly pushing it around to form a scar. [Y/N] hummed, opening her eyeshadow palette and picking the darkest shade of red she had.
When she bent down to get a better look at it, Senku averted his eyes from her chest. He never had an issue before—well, not that he really had one right now, but this was different.
Senku had seen her wear the thinnest shorts and tank tops, all while sleeping over, and not once did he bat an eye. It felt odd to try to fight the warmth that spread from his neck to his ears, not wanting her to notice it.
"I was going to ask..." He held his breath as she pushed the chair closer to his desk, then settled herself on his lap. "But I know you don't care."
He did not—not care. In fact, he cared way too much right now. Her chest was firmly placed against his, paying no mind to his expressions or the change in his body language.
Her legs swung childishly, applying more scar wax to his face. Senku wanted to ignore it, truly, he did. His hands dug into the chair's armrests, avoiding placing any touches on her.
[Y/N] wanted to quit, wipe it all off his face, and simply go home. He wasn't a very sexual person; that was obvious from the very beginning. She expected a monotone response, anything other than his unmoving figure and silence.
Why couldn't he simply give her a white lie, at least for today, when she had swapped out her costume millions of times, shifting through her stockings like a madwoman?
The scar outlines were done, and needed a couple of minutes to dry as the dark eyeshadow seeped into its material better. In the meantime, she separated some staples and counted them.
Senku was glancing off to the side, crimson eyes burning imaginary holes into his wall. His fingers twitched against his will, wanting to dip down and touch the garter belts squishing her thighs.
"You don't like it." She sniffled, feeling tears threatening to ruin her eyeliner. [Y/N] wanted to go to this party, not him. Maybe it was all her fault for forcing him to say yes. "I'll take it all off, just say the word."
He was lucky he was sitting down, because those words would've had him stumbling back. Senku finally looked at her, feeling guilt crawl up his throat when he noticed her forming tears.
It took him a quick, embarrassing second to realize she was talking about the stuff on his face, not her clothing. Great, he was turning into a pervert because his girlfriend was dressed as a hot serial killer.
"Is it too much? Do you feel embarrassed being next to me dressed like this?"
Senku's blush got worse, creeping up higher on his neck. She was actually talking about her outfit. Of course, he wouldn't make her take it off, in his room...all alone with him...
The sound of him clearing his throat felt like a punch to her gut. [Y/N] shifted her weight, starting to slide off his legs and give him space. Senku suddenly grabbed hold of her thighs, stopping her from moving further.
It was a desperate attempt to stop her from leaving his side while she was upset, and to put a stop to the sudden friction she caused between his legs. Senku's fingers dug into the thick flesh, thumbs pressing into the belt hooks.
"You're doing something to me." He muttered, hating how much he was enjoying holding what he had eyed so intensely a few moments ago. Senku took it as a positive sign when she didn't push him away, only placing her hands on his shoulders.
"And you're my boyfriend. You don't need to hold yourself back." Senku sucked in a breath at her firm voice. [Y/N] picked up the foundation that matched his skin tone, applying a few dots directly onto the wax and evening it out with a brush.
His fingers slid up further, tracing the belt and disappearing under her white skirt. What greeted him wasn't shorts but the thin border of lacey underwear.
She continued to work on his makeup, using all of her other red powders to texturize the scars and around his normal skin. Her bottom lip was being softly bitten in between her teeth, not fully, afraid he'd notice and possibly tease her.
Senku hooked a finger under the fabric's border, gently tugging it away from her skin and tracing the entirety of the outline. His hands ended up resting on the exposed bottoms of her ass because her underwear wasn't the usual style she wore; this was much smaller.
They've had sex before, nothing this extra touchy-feely, especially from his part. He genuinely began to regret how mundane he treated her during those times. Touching her this way was stirring up his insides like nothing he'd experienced, so he could imagine what she felt in return.
An exhale left her lips when he squeezed his hands out of nowhere. [Y/N] smiled when she realized he was avoiding looking into her eyes, instead keeping his gaze on the floor. His face was slowly turning a bright red under the gentle touch of her fingers.
It messed her up a bit to blend the colors while he blushed, but she couldn't tell him that. While she shuffled through one of her bags, Senku took the chance to glance at her.
Her blonde wig had been perfectly styled into loose, bouncy curls, mimicking Tiffany's style from when she was still human. The chucky tattoo was settled on the top of her right breast. [Y/N] applied it extremely well, looking almost realistic.
Senku should've said something else. She had put in so much effort, and he was too busy acting like some high schooler who'd never seen a girl before.
He didn't look away when she turned back, holding a fake blood container. Crimson and [E/C] met, neither letting go of eye contact. He kept a hand on her ass, the other slid back to the front, and playfully pinched the small bow at the top of the underwear.
Senku only teased her with words, not actions. It was a new, explored territory in their relationship. She shuddered against his touch, feeling a finger lightly brush against her clothed clit. It lowered, pushing the thin fabric between her labia.
The fake blood was applied, giving his costume life. Warmth pooled in her lower stomach when he detached the hooks from her garter belt and pulled down the underwear. She lifted her hips slightly to allow him to pull it further.
Their eyes never faltered, even when their faces clearly showed the effect this newfound intimacy was having. It was pure trust; there were only two people in this room sharing a moment, a safe bubble.
She gasped softly when he made contact, smoothly rubbing her exposed clit with the slick that had gathered. Senku gently tugged it, earning him a sharp inhale. Her thighs shifted from the feeling, and he knew it was a good sign.
He had memorized every twitch, movement, facial expression, and sound. It wasn't intentional, but he couldn't deny how proud he was of it right about now. Her back arched slightly, pushing her chest closer to him.
[Y/N] trembled in his hold, doing her best to stick the staples into the wax and not stab him by accident. A finger slipped inside with zero signs of struggle; he noticed and added another, happy to hear the moan it caused her to emit.
He guided them to stretch her walls, a scissoring motion made [Y/N] drop the last staple. It fell onto the floor and was quickly forgotten. She gripped his shoulders once again, digging her manicured nails into him.
"Sen..." She whispered. A low, quiet plea, he understood. Senku pumped the two fingers in and out, creating a rhythm for her thrusting hips to follow.
Squelching sounds filled the room, and he was glad his dad wasn't home, allowing them to be as loud as needed. Trails of her wetness went down the palms of his hands, smearing across her inner thighs and sinking into the fabric of his overalls.
She was the one to break eye contact first, closing them and bringing him into a sloppy kiss. Senku wasted no time parting his lips for her tongue. The way she sucked on his made a weird but pleasant rush run through his lower half.
Two became three, filling her up even more. His middle finger reached further than the other two; he curled that one into her walls, trying to find the 'sweet' spot the article said women usually had.
When she moaned into the kiss, he knew he had found it. More than a moan, it came out sounding like the wind was knocked out of her. Senku focused on that spot, enjoying the vibrations of her pleasured noises against his lips.
His thumb latched onto her clit with circular motions, alternating between it and his occupied fingers. She suddenly guided her hips far too forward, making his fingers reach deeper and rubbing her ass against his semi hard-on.
"Fuck—" The word muffled as her mouth continued to clash with his, her hand reaching down to stroke him above the clothing. She pushed back her body, giving him back the space he previously had.
[Y/N] pulled away, slipping off her leather jacket, leaving her neck and shoulders exposed to the cool air in his room. She wiped away the saliva dripping from his chin and hers, whimpering as he fastened his pace.
Because of the overalls, she didn't have any quick access to him. She undid the other side, tugging it down to pool around his waist. He caught on, removing his fingers from her temporarily as she took off his shirt.
Her hands roamed his chest as he went back to pleasuring her. Thighs clenched tightly against him, tensing up when the familiar imaginary knot formed in her uterus.
Senku gulped a sigh when she licked the shape of his Adam's apple, attaching her lips and gently sucking. Typically, he'd tell her to do it somewhere else where no one could see them; his classmates were nosey and would undoubtedly call him out on it.
He couldn't bring himself to redirect her. Who really cared if someone else saw them? It would benefit him to have the marks linger on his skin, evidence that he was taken. Perhaps this way, she'd be less worried about those girls who tried flirting with him all the time.
A pulsating feeling overtook her, and goosebumps arose on her skin. She was getting closer to climaxing. [Y/N] didn't want him to be left out, so she gently pried his hand away from between her legs.
Senku was breathing a bit heavily from all of her love bites; a particular one just below his jaw was sensitive. He watched her stand up, wobbling slightly. Crimson eyes followed the way she approached him again.
"Chair or bed?" The simple yet direct question made him blink; he didn't get to reply. She walked to his drawers, rummaging through the contents and grabbing a condom.
He chuckled when her fingers pointed at his overalls. Senku pulled them down enough to give her access. She sat down on his lap again but kept herself near his knees.
Senku held her from falling, patiently letting her tug his boxers down and open the condom's foil. The earlier embarrassment had melted away, realizing they had nothing to be ashamed of.
[Y/N] offered him no time to prepare, sinking herself to the hilt. He groaned at the tightness squeezing him all of a sudden, sucking him right in. Senku moved the fabric from her skirt away, allowing him to watch the motion.
Every lift of her hips had her thighs slamming down onto his own, messily coating them with her spilled arousal.
His name escaped her lips like a never-ending chant, bringing him closer to the edge. Hands dug into the sides of her hips and guided her body when she began to slow down.
Was it the heightened emotions that made him feel this needy to have her in his grasp? He swore he could last longer than this. It was hitting him like a train, the utter want for her that is.
Her fingers were tangled in his dyed hair, staining her slightly with the color orange. Senku's trance was broken, instead fixing his gaze on her fucked-out expressions. Her pretty lips were parted, a fruitless attempt to catch her breath.
"I couldn't..." His voice died out, biting his inner cheek to stop the moan threatening to get out. She hummed in response, encouraging him to keep talking, even though she was the reason he was struggling.
"speak..." [Y/N] wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, rubbing gently to encourage him. Her nails deliciously scratched against his skin when he moved her hips in a perfect circle. "...because all I wanted..."
He couldn't hold back anymore, knowing she was about to come soon. Senku relaxed significantly, allowing the friction to work its magic. "Was to touch you everywhere."
His words completely eased her lingering worry; butterflies swarmed her stomach instead, heightening her need for him. Senku seemed to pick up on the faster pace, matching her quickly.
"Sen—" "Me too."
Their lips collided. An intimate, silent shield for their moans as they finished at the same time. Lazy strokes started to ride out their highs, letting them focus on the kiss.
Neither moved an inch, even as he twitched inside her. [Y/N] smiled at the red lipstick staining his lips and neck, a part of her wished she had chosen a long-lasting one. He would either sport them for the world to see or stay at home until they faded, which meant spending more time with her.
Senku pulled her closer into a hug, basking in the aftermath. They would not be going to that party anymore, his overalls were soaked by her. It was a shame to see the fake scars on his face go to waste, but could this really be considered a bad alternative?
"We really went into character." She mumbled against his shoulder, enjoying his arms around her.
"I know they have a kid, but they didn't show the...process in the movie right?"
"Oh, they did. They fucked in doll mode."
Senku's eyebrow raised, not that she could see it. He had only watched half of the Bride of Chucky movie, succumbing to sleep while she finished it.
"We should be aliens next year."
He snorted at the out-of-the-blue statement. "Why?"
"They're always naked." Senku probably should've guessed that'd be her answer.
Hi, been a while! Here are some Dr. Stone drafts (AKA literally just Stan & Xeno stuff), I never finished and probably will never build upon. Decided to post them just to make use of them, or if someone got an idea from this word vomit and wanted to create their own version.
Not proofread, it's messy and random. Enjoy? :)
Wordcount: 8,808.
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Her nails mindlessly tapped at the desk, head lolling to the side in mild exhaustion. The meeting on her computer continued to worsen her headache. Hours and hours of undetailed projects were thrown at her, expecting a miracle to suddenly be emitted from her brain.
And god the voices, whiny people left and right. She didn't bother turning off her camera to show her physical annoyance, wanting them to see the negative effect they were causing.
"—So, any thoughts on how we could fix this, Mrs. Snyfield?"
The fingers rubbing the bridge of her nose came to a dead stop, straightening in her office chair to glare directly into her camera. She let the silence linger, allowing the words to sink into the speaker's mind.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. It's an office joke." He chuckled, clearly not thinking it was a big deal.
[Y/N] breathed in, glancing at her clock. Five minutes left on her shift, perfect.
"All right, let's cut to the chase. There is no 'we' here; I'm the one who's going to have to fix your mess, like always. But before I do that, I'm going to need you all to get off your asses and do the job you are being paid to do." She didn't want her voice to rise, and despite her best efforts, it surfaced.
"Fix your reports, I can't file incomplete information or projects that haven't been concluded properly. Do you understand?" A few heads nodded hesitantly.
"I expect them to be updated by next week and sent to my work email. Anyone who fails to meet this deadline will be demoted from my team, and so will those who call me that surname joke again."
"But ma'am it was only-"
"Jordan, hang up before I do something drastic."
The disconnect sound rang a couple of times before she finally closed the tab. [Y/N] rubbed her eyes as she got out of her seat and left the room, heading straight towards the absolutely delicious smell.
"You look angry." A kiss landed on the top of her head. She saw a blur of yellow before it disappeared, still rubbing her eyes.
"Just another day of work." Xeno and [Y/N] took their usual seats at the dinner table while Stanley evenly divided the food.
Both men shared glances as their girlfriend ate quietly, picking at her meal before taking bites. It was unsettling to say the least, she was always a talker during their late dinners, eager to share or hear anything other than work stuff.
A solid twenty minutes of pure silence went by before they got up to place their dishes in the sink. Xeno washed them while [Y/N] dried. Stanley leaned his back on the counter, right next to the woman, observing her lack of expression.
He tried to let her have her obviously much-needed space, but it didn't sit well with him. She was very vocal in her desires; if she didn't want to talk about it, she would tell them so.
"What happened?"
[Y/N] continued to dry the dishes passed on to her, biting her lip as the meeting from earlier resurfaced in her head like a broken record. Xeno shut off the water, wiping his hands and turned to look at her.
It was a silent gesture, and she knew they wouldn't let her leave until she told them what was on her mind, or told them she didn't want to talk about it.
"I'm tired of work." The plate in her hand was set off to the side, still not shifting her head to face either of them. "Everyone is so goddamn lazy, I end up doing my already demanding job and then their work on top of it."
"It suffocates me." Her frustrations died out into a whisper, feeling her emotions hanging by a thin thread.
She had been staying home due to her stress levels getting worse, unfortunately, still having to work because her team was falling behind.
"I thought you took the week off? What are you doing attending those meetings?" Stanley murmured, rubbing small circles on her back.
"The data department always collapses without her." Xeno answered for her, trying his best to keep the anger from being heard.
"Then, why don't you quit? Xeno and I can take care of everything until you're ready to go back or find something better." [Y/N]'s eyes filled with unwanted tears; she was so grateful for her husbands.
Stanley brought her into his arms, and Xeno moved to stand next to them, grabbing her hand for comfort.
"Because without me, Xee's job is going to be harder." She worked overtime, always, when it involved Xeno's projects. Requested forms? Done. Revised data? Already on it. Information on a similar test he wanted to perform? Folders from the 1960's came out.
[Y/N] had absolutely everything organized. She prided herself on how good she was; however, it sucked to be good at keeping everything but herself put together.
"And I appreciate all you do for me." Xeno gave her a gentle smile when her head moved to lie on Stanley's chest and look up at her favorite scientist. "Even so, if work is draining you this much, I'd rather struggle for a few hours a week than see you like this, love."
"Or, I could have a little chat with those workers of yours."
Xeno sent him a 'really' look, but it earned a laugh from their crying wife. Jordan, seeing Stanley walk into their office to have a chat with him and the others, would probably shit himself.
"We don't need you going to jail again." Xeno huffed, and this time it was Stanley who gave him a look.
"We went to jail together."
"Not the point."
"Entirely the point."
They shared a smile when [Y/N] continued to laugh at their antics, already feeling much better.
"If things don't get better by next week, I'll consider putting in my letter of resignation."
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The stuffy room was crowded entirely by dancing bodies, the bar so occupied that they had three bartenders shuffling around. Stanley flicked his cigarette over an ashtray, chuckling softly when he looked to the side and saw Xeno swirling his colorful drink while scrolling on his work iPad.
His empty beer glass was quickly refilled, not bothering to count how many he had downed. Xeno would put a stop to it as soon as it posed a problem, and he was a regular with an open tab.
Caramel eyes scanned the area, liking the music that blasted loud enough to be heard but still allowed conversations to be spoken.
Stanley was suddenly utterly mesmerized. From the shade of beautiful rose red coating her lips, to the dark eyeliner wings accentuating her eyes. His gaze never faltered, not even as an amused bartender tapped at the counter, trying to gain his attention.
The woman was minding her business, chatting with a group of girls who were sharing shots and giggling. Not once did she meet his eyes; somehow, this made him yearn for it.
"You're going to burn holes into her skull." A familiar chuckle finally snapped him out of his trance, looking away to see that Xeno had put down his device to focus on his drink.
Xeno ignored the buzz of his iPad notification, too busy teasing a stunned Stanley.
"Absolutely beautiful." He murmured, returning to stare at her. Now they both watched her stand up, feet stumbling in her heels, no doubt caused by the quickly consumed alcohol.
She walked towards the dance floor, closely followed by her friends. They held hands as the music changed to an even higher beat, dancing close to one another.
Their voices blended with those of everyone else, as they sang and moved their hips to the rhythm. Xeno and Stanley quickly forgot about their sitting drinks, too immersed in the way the pretty woman grinded up to her friend, her tight silver dress had ridden up her thighs from the movement.
It felt like an eternity, observing every dip of her body, every click of her heels. Before they knew it, an ice cube in Xeno's drink cracked, a sign it had been sitting still there for far too long.
"We look like creeps." Stanley laughed at himself, asking the bartender to replace his beer with a colder one. Xeno downed his drink, getting it out of the way so he could focus on something else.
And it seemed like that 'something else' was fast approaching the bar.
A body grazed the side of their outer thighs. The woman they had been looking at for what seemed like hours was standing between their seated figures.
"Hi, could I get a round of five tequila shots? Any brand you think is better." Her arms rested on the counter, her lower half leaned out, no doubt causing the already short dress to lift up higher.
"Be right with you."
She hummed in response, patiently waiting.
Two hands suddenly touched the back of her thighs, sliding up her smooth skin and grabbing the fabric to tug it down. They held it in place as she stood up straight.
"Careful there." Xeno smiled up at her shocked face, which suddenly gasped and smacked both him and Stanley on the knee.
"You scared me!"
Stanley let his hand rest on her ass while Xeno shifted his own to grasp her arm, rubbing circles with his thumb.
"You seem to be having fun, [Y/N]." She broke out in a grin, no doubt on the verge of being completely drunk.
"Put these on his tab." She patted Stanley's cheek when her shots were placed on the counter. The bartender was used to this exchange, only nodding and moving along to his next order.
[Y/N] had forgotten she called them a few hours prior, wanting her boyfriends to be in the same vicinity so she could let loose with her friends and stay safe. Before their arrival, she had been getting harassed by a couple of men, a few of whom were still lingering about.
She gently grasped their chins, tilting her head down to press a quick kiss to their lips. A silent but loud enough claim to anyone who had witnessed it.
"Twenty minutes more, then we can go home, so both of you can take this dress off me." With a cheeky grin, she scooped up the shot glasses and glided over to her awaiting friends.
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When did this feeling start? It filled her with dread to see them so distant, when she was left with a kiss on the forehead, and they were gone.
More than dread itself, something she couldn't explain, when they'd sleep in each other's arms, leaving her to fend for herself against the cold of the night, a movement away from slipping off the edge of the bed.
Did it start when she was fired? They reassured her it would be okay, that they'd help her stay afloat while she looked for something else. Yet, they were always too busy with their own jobs to find the time to assist her, to hold her.
Did the feeling grow stronger when they went out on a date without her? It had stung quite a bit when the pictures were uploaded on their social media, more because that was the same night she had been crying in bed, wishing they'd come home early for once.
[Y/N] sipped the hot coffee from the purple thermal cup in her grasp, sighing softly as the hot liquid slightly burned her esophagus. It was a nice balance for the cold winter evening that enveloped her, small snowflakes falling on her head and coat.
Christmas was fast approaching, and she had no idea what to get everyone. The year before, she had bought gifts months before December was even a thought. But this year, she had barely spoken to her friends and lovers, having no clue about what new interests they might have acquired.
Her feet shuffled through a pile of snow beneath her boots, watching it compress as the air that had made it fluffy was forced out. Xeno had told her about her back in high school, when she was setting up a Christmas-themed theater stage for her club.
Right, she hadn't received a message from them all day. [Y/N] slipped her phone into her coat's pocket and stood up from the metal bench. She walked back into the crowded mall, a desperate attempt to gift search for the fifth time.
"Hello, Sweetheart! Shopping for a parent, friend, or partner?" The cheery voice startled her. A kind man approached her holding a shopping basket.
"Hi, for all of the above, actually..." She awkwardly brushed a loose strand of [H/C] hair behind her ear, the employee hummed loudly before hooking their arms together.
"I'm an expert on love gifts, so tell me what your partner does for a living first." He picked up a perfume box, an assortment of different scents, awaiting her response.
[Y/N] felt a little emotional at the physical contact, as she was extremely deprived of it these past months. She couldn't recall the last time she had hugged them, only remembering the daily soft kisses on her forehead.
"Uhm, one of them works at NASA as a rocket scientist. The other is a military officer."
The silence suffocated her; it was always tiring to explain she was part of a throuple relationship, not a cheater.
"Well, in this case, buying them stuff they'd use in their professions seems out of the question. Where would you get the chemicals they use or an M16?" Her heart skipped a beat, recalling a silly argument she had with Stan years ago, when she accidentally bought the M16 off a wall in Call of Duty, effectively replacing her upgraded weapon.
"Okay, let's get everyone else a gift, then we circle back." The newly introduced Julian guided her throughout the gift shop, making small talk while coaxing information about her friends.
It was nice to have a fluid conversation for once in a long while, and in mere minutes, she had bags of gifts and wrappers. And after a long talk, Julian advised her to make something handmade, that perhaps her boyfriends might appreciate that more than any store item.
"Say, Sweetheart..." He mumbled, walking her out of the store. [Y.N] looked up from the ground to meet his intense gaze, "I don't like to pry, and I was trying to stop myself, but—"
It wasn't like it was all that surprising, of course, he'd be curious about two boyfriends.
"—Was your nose red because of the cold, or because you were crying?"
Her steps faltered, reaching the glass door. Julian gulped at her mood shift, watching her readjust her grip on the newly purchased items.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked." His voice was soft, awaiting her response.
"Everything's okay, thank you for your help today. I appreciate it." She gave him a wide smile, turning on her heel and walking towards the stairs.
Julian hesitantly watched her blend into the crowd with a concerned frown on his face. She hadn't answered his question, and it felt like her response was almost robotic.
The cold hadn't lessened, but the night sky had severely darkened. Her thick coat wasn't enough to help against the harsh wind either, she had made a quick stop at a yarn shop, thinking of what to make for her lovers.
[Y/N] reached her car, unlocking the driver seat and sitting down quickly. The bags were placed on the passenger seat, and she let the car warm up before heading home. The coat was shrugged off alongside her gloves, scarf, and earmuffs.
Softly singing along to the Christmas songs buzzing from the radio, she shuffled through the purchased goods, pulling out a blossom-themed teacup set, a painter's kit, heeled black boots, and a makeup kit.
The satisfied smile on her lips slowly fell, and the presents in her hands didn't make sense anymore. Who was the makeup for? Heather or Brenda? Did Ollie like teacups? It hurt her to realize she didn't know her friends anymore, tears blurred her vision as a few fell onto the items.
She quickly stuffed them back into the bags and gripped her steering wheel tightly, hiccupping softly as she choked on her tears. Eyeliner stained her skin and smudged everywhere, wiping her eyes quickly when she felt the buzz of her phone.
Notifications flooded her screen, all holiday discounts and the receipts for her recent purchases. No messages or missed calls from her boyfriends. Maybe they were busy, or maybe they had forgotten. It was getting harder to tell.
...
Were the kisses quicker today? They had felt so brief when they used to linger. [Y/N] shuffled her fluffy socked feet before leaving the front door and back into the living room, where she had been setting up the Christmas tree. She'd leave the top part to Stanley, being far too scared to use the ladder to place the star and a few ornaments.
A gust of wind caused her to shiver and bring her attention to the open window. She quickly made her way over and reached to close it, stopping herself when her eyes caught the sight of Xeno and Stanley finishing a conversation, sharing a tender kiss, and parting ways.
'Badump.'
Pain. Her chest was struck by an unexplainable pain, like a sharp needle prodding at her insides. They hadn't kissed her in that manner in a long time.
Stepping away from the now-closed window, [Y/N] put away the decoration box, heading towards her closet to bring out the yarn and begin her the creations of her gifts.
Except when she tugged the yarn into the crochet hooks, her movement stopped. [E/C] eyes blinked, staring down at her hands like they were alien. Why couldn't she remember how to do it? Did she need to start with a half double crochet or a single? Did it matter?
The sound of the front door opening wasn't registered by her, still staring at the material in her hand. Their shelves all had crocheted items for decoration; in fact, the whole house was littered with them, so why did the hook in her hand feel so foreign?
"[Y/N]?" A head peeked into the room, and she finally looked up to see Stanley with his eyebrows furrowed. She coughed softly and put the yarn down, walking up to his awaiting figure.
"I thought you went to work?" The soldier tilted his head slightly, observing her reddened eyes.
"Xeno did, I told you I was getting food, you said you wanted sushi." Her eyes darted to the bag in his hand, acknowledging the aroma of fresh fish.
"Right...?" Stanley nodded, guiding her into the kitchen and setting up their plates. [Y/N] took a seat, mumbling a soft thank you when he set down her favorite chopstick set.
"How was the gift shopping?" He nudged her with his foot, snapping her out of her thoughts.
The sushi called out to her, yet her appetite was withering. To appease his piercing caramel eyes, she picked up a few pieces onto her plate and aligned them.
"You knew where I was?"
"Of course, you asked Xeno and me to not text or call, scared you were going to spoil our gifts." He chuckled, taking another sushi piece from the box. "We were worried all day, y'know."
The chopsticks in her mouth chipped slightly at how hard she clenched her jaw; had she actually told them that? No, when did that happen? Her heart raced faster.
"Oh, sorry. It went okay, a little over budget though." She froze, with what money had she paid? She hadn't gotten a job yet, and her savings were nowhere to be seen.
"We told you not to worry about money, it's why Xeno gave you his card." Stanley wiped the corner of his mouth before reaching over to scoot her chair closer to him, raising a hand to check her temperature.
"Are you feeling alright?" The warmth on her forehead made her lips quiver. Why couldn't she laugh it off and hug him tightly like she used to? Her hand shook, desperately wanting to reach for him. His touch quickly faded, removing himself from her personal space like she had scorched him.
"Everything's okay." She offered him a smile, turning away to continue eating. Stanley's eyes were glued on the way the corners of her smile trembled.
...
...
The days passed, and the gifts were still stuffed in her closet. Yarn rolled back to what it was, [Y/N] blankly sat in front of the tree, seeing the presents begin to fill the bottom.
Xeno approached her with a hot chocolate mug, handing it over before settling on the other couch. The drink in her hand shook, a result of watching him sit away from her.
Last Christmas, they had cuddled with a large blanket, talking about everything and anything while gazing at the pretty tree. When did he stop holding her?
'Badump'
Cold. The room suddenly felt colder, and the lights no longer shone as brightly in her eyes. How long would they last with this growing distance? Had they both agreed to break things off with her and were doing it slowly?
"Is it suitable, [Y/N]?"
She looked away from the tiny marshmallows, meeting his half-lidded onyx eyes and soft smile. It took her a few seconds to understand what he was talking about.
"Yeah, it's great. Thank you..." Did she always like lukewarm drinks? Yeah, she did. Why was her coffee during the shopping trip extremely hot?
Questions were all that lingered in her mind, feeling like everything she knew was slowly slipping away from her, and it was scary. Goosebumps arose on her arms, bringing the blanket closer.
"I noticed you haven't added any presents, do you need help?"
"I don't need help."
Her ears began to ring, muffling everything around her. His voice sounded like a faraway whisper.
"No, I have them, just not wrapped." She waved him off playfully, going back to drink from the mug. Xeno's eyes were wide; he had started to notice the change in her, but never did he expect it to get this bad.
Receiving an emotionally hostile response, only to get a normal one right after, like she had forgotten her first words. It was getting harder to accept, to live with. Holding onto strings that wanted to snap, away from him and Stanley.
"Let's go wrap them." He stood up, waiting for her to do the same. [Y/N] finished the last sip and placed the empty mug on the coffee table, not making any move to get up.
Xeno took a few steps forward, suddenly feeling his wrist get tugged back softly. He darted his eyes to the side. They hadn't had physical contact in a while; for her to initiate it was a sudden change.
She didn't let go, and he didn't push her away. Silence lingered, bodies still. Xeno saw the conflict swirling in her [E/C] eyes, the shake of her hand on him. With a self-induced confidence boost, he reached for her hand, slowly prying it away from his wrist and holding it.
They were warm from the mug she had been holding moments ago.
"Is this okay?"
The question hit her like a slap, yanking her hand away from his.
"No, it's not! Don't touch me!"
"Why do you even need to ask? Aren't we a couple?" The scientist listened with a frown taking over his lips. The warmth from her hand had dissipated, leaving his own to shiver at the coldness.
Why did he look so crestfallen when he was the one to always keep his distance? Looking down at her like she had hurt him, confusion polluted her mind, and she was done.
"You and Stan, both of you..." She felt the slight sting of her throat closing up, trying not to cry. "Why don't you just break up with me, instead of continuously pushing me away?"
"If you want to let me go, just do it already!"
Xeno's lips parted, watching her spring up from the couch, tears threatening to spill. She took a step to the side, ready to bolt to their shared room, but he couldn't let her leave this conversation with those thoughts of hers, not today.
This time, he grasped her arm, pulling her closer to his figure. Her body crashed into his, chest to chest, face looking up at him in shock.
"Let you go?" He whispered, nearing his lips against hers. Her resolve weakened alongside her struggles, too entranced by what he was doing. "The day we do that is the day we die."
The kiss was soft, gentle, the complete opposite of what he had been craving for months. Her fingers relaxed against his shoulders, releasing the bunched-up sweater from her deadly grip. The lost warmth had come back, rewarding him with a satisfied craving.
When they pulled away, she had no words, simply staring into his eyes with content and tears still lingering.
"This is possibly the most lucid I've seen you in a while." He softly traced her cheek with his thumb, like he was checking if she really was here, in his arms, with zero fight. "I missed you."
"I was always here..." "No, my dear, you weren't." She finally noticed, there in his beautiful onyx eyes, was a glint of sadness. "And I think it's time to have a talk, again." He still held her closely, only moving his hand to check the time on his watch.
"Let's do some brain stimulation tricks while we wait for Stanley."
Again? She couldn't recall a talk, at least, not about anything serious. How much had she forgotten? It was starting to scare her. Xeno must've noticed, because he immediately cracked a scientific joke, one of those stupid ones he used to say when they were barely dating.
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Game night. A night she looked forward to until the moment where she was absolutely crushed by both men, in every. single. game.
"You definitely cheated!" Xeno smiled at the finger pointing directly at his face. He gently grasped it, pulling her in closer. "Acting sweet won't save you from the next round."
She lost.
"It's a strategy game, of course you suck." Stanley, who had been sitting next to her, observed her various mistakes.
"You lost to Xeno too, seven times."
"This is your ninth."
[E/C] glared up at him, only getting a cheeky smirk in response. [Y/N] huffed and reset the Connect Four game, about to start a rematch, but ultimately decided to stuff it away into the box.
Xeno and Stanley adored these late Friday nights. [Y/N] was so bad at these games that it was endearing to see her try so hard. Tongue sticking out her lips and eyebrows scrunched in concentration, only to lose by something she didn't take account for.
"Having two boyfriends is awesome, they said. They'll treat you right, they said." She mumbled sarcastically, reaching over the table for her forgotten energy drink.
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"We should break up."
A sentence that wasn't followed up on, leaving Xeno and Stanley to watch their now ex-girlfriend get up from the table with tears pooling in her [E/C] eyes. They weren't allowed a single second of rebuttal, hearts nearly ripping in two when she rushed out of the restaurant, stumbling slightly from how fast she moved in her heels.
Both men spent day and night talking amongst one another, trying to find out what had gone wrong. It was frustrating when they couldn't think of anything, and it was worse when [Y/N] cut off all communication and didn't show up for work.
Xeno stared up at the ceiling, onyx eyes dropping from fatigue. His hand tangled itself into Stanley's hair, massaging his scalp softly, and the soldier lying on his chest was deep in thought.
"Anything?"
"No." Stanley murmured, feeling Xeno's heartbeat skip a beat. "She needs time and space."
"It's been two weeks, it's killing me not knowing what caused this."
Hundreds of missed calls and unread texts flooded her notifications when she had finally charged her phone. She looked into the mirror, realizing tears had ruined her eyeliner, foundation fading away—god she hated the way she looked.
"[Y/N] I'm gonna borrow your skirt." Lianne, her roommate, burst into her room and marched to the closet, ignoring the girl breaking apart by the vanity mirror. "By the way, Kiara mentioned you broke up with those boyfriends of yours, good job realizing this is better for you."
The door slammed close, leaving [Y/N] to fiddle with the phone in her hand. She couldn't believe what she had done; the build-up to that dreadful night had pushed her into a meltdown, breaking up with the loves of her life on the spot.
It had all started with a few comments here and there, which never bothered her until they had started dating, ecstatically telling her group of friends the same night it had been established.
"A military lieutenant and NASA scientist?" Lianne paused, holding her lipstick up and eyeing a happy [Y/N] from the corner of her eyes. "How did you manage that?"
She was too over the moon to hear the hostile shift in the question, smiling brightly and leaning into Erica, who giggled at the pictures [Y/N] showed her.
"We met at an event, the one Kiara invited me to." Kiara was a gifted mathematician, which had landed her an invitation to a privately hosted party, governors, scientists, and military and more amazing people attended—she was allowed to bring a plus one, in less than a second she had chosen [Y/N], knowing the girl wouldn't cause a scene or stray far.
"She was your plus one? I thought you couldn't have one."
"Lianne, be honest with yourself. You're too crazy to take out, especially in a setting with an open bar." Kiara rolled her eyes, sitting by Erica and [Y/N]. She snatched up the phone, laughing loudly at the picture of a grumpy but smiling Xeno with a face full of makeup, Stanley grinning on the side, holding the eyeliner pencil in the air. "Oh, you hit a double jackpot, honey."
You. You. You. Why did that word bother her so much? Yes, she did get lucky, yes, she managed to get the interest of two very amazing men—but what about them? They had also gotten lucky with her; she was smart, caring, and clicked immediately with them—well, that's what she thought at first, did everyone else secretly agree that she wasn't nearly enough for them?
The movie's dialogue was muffled the room felt cold and empty despite the group of girls sitting on the large couch and on the floor. [Y/N] had her head resting on Kiara's shoulder, the latter patting the [H/C] haired girl's thighs in a comforting rhythm.
Michelle threw popcorn at the screen when the ML admitted to cheating, the other girls followed suit, yelling in discontentment. Lianne stayed neutral, scrolling through her phone and getting the attention of Erica who couldn't help but glance over.\
"Why are you looking at [Y/N]'s ex's socials?"
The living room got quiet, the movie was paused, and every head turned to look at the annoyed girl. Erica was shoved away, Lianne clicked her phone off crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at their gazes.
"Just checking up on them, seeing if they aren't dating someone else already."
"I don't want to know, thanks—"
"I'm not doing it for you [Y/N]." Lianne opened the app back up, fluttering her eyelashes when Stanley's social page was updated, a picture of him holding hands with Xeno at a restaurant. "Doesn't seem like they miss you anyway."
Kiara slowly pushed away [Y/N]'s head from her shoulder, unfolding her legs to stand up and walk towards the gushing Lianne. The phone was snatched up, Erica holding down the frantic girl by the waist and Michelle locking her legs together.
"Give it back you bitch!"
She was ignored, and her secret text messages were leaked.
"Hey, we briefly met when you came to pick up [Y/N]. Now that you're broken up, it's time to admit that I found you both cute. Text me if you're interested."
Xeno nearly rolled his eyes into the back of his head for good, blocking the contact off of Stanley's account. He was angry for the blatant disrespect she conjured up against [Y/N], wasn't this breaking some sort of girl code?
"Xeno, do you think she knows?"
"No, and that's what upsets me."
...
...
"Hello, do you have an appointment?"
Stanley held a bouquet of pink camellias, which signified their longing for her, a clear message that she was missed and one she would take notice of.
"No, please make sure these reach Miss. [Y/N]." The receptionist nodded, a little overwhelmed with the giant amount of flowers sitting on her desk, she carefully picked them up and nearly tumbled with the weight.
He walked away, sighing when the elevator showed the 'maximum capacity' button lit up. He took the stairs instead, already grumbling about the thirteen floors he needed to get down.
A few in and he took a brief break, noticing there was a window on this floor's stairs, he cracked it open and lit up a cigarette, browsing on his phone meanwhile. Smiling when Xeno sent him a scientific meme.
His focus was broken when the cigarette was tugged out of his grasp and thrown out the window, sharp caramel eyes darted to the side ready to punch whoever did that—Stanley's breath got caught in his throat, the most gorgeous woman was standing in front of him with a timid smile, [H/C] hair pulled up into a neat bun, white buttoned shirt and a dark purple pencil skirt.
"Sorry, there's no smoking in the building, darling." She bit her lip at her slip-up, watching his eyes flicker at the pet name. [Y/N] murmured another apology, gasping softly when he didn't hesitate to pull her closer.
He had taken that 'darling' as a clear indication she was still the old [Y/N], the one he loves, and this had boosted his confidence in his next move, cupping her warm cheek in the palm of his hand.
"Stan, thank you for not replying to Lianne. It's been a very hard time being away from...." She blinked when he placed a finger on her lips, effectively making her words trail off.
"We aren't going to have this conversation without Xeno, however, we don't need him here for us to do this." His purple lips met hers, pressing softly and waiting for her to reciprocate before pushing further.
[Y/N] placed a hand on his chest, thankful for his arm around her waist, keeping her on her feet. She used her free hand to pull him closer by the collar, tilting her head to the side and parting her lips to allow him entry.
She could feel his usually calm heart start beating faster, it pulsed under her palm and in turn made her own flutter. Stanley squeezed her hip, delighted to hear the soft groan escape her glossed lips.
"Stan—"
"No."
"—Darling."
[Y/N] had gotten only a few seconds of air, quickly pulled in for a much rougher and desperate kiss.
"Again."
She whispered it, and he continued to break apart. How he missed her, her voice, perfume, lips, everything. Stan didn't truly understand how badly he needed her until this very moment.
They only broke apart when [Y/N] heard a door slam, startled, she pulled away and rested against Stan. Shaky breaths were echoing slightly in the empty staircases.
"Now your makeup matches your skirt."
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Brody's boastful laugh echoed throughout the castle, letting everyone know he was making great progress. Shots rang outside, even without stepping foot near there, they all knew the bullets hit bullseye every time.
[Y/N] swirled the spoon in her coffee mug, while everyone was busy trying to bring back what humans once underappreciated, she sat alone in the kitchen area. Self-doubt continued to crowd her mind; why did they allow her to stay?
She had no old profession that could help her contribute anything to the growing evolution. [Y/N] was at the NASA expo only because her best friend Luna dragged her along, trying to get her to leave her suffocating house, even if it meant sneaking her into government affairs.
For the past year of being alive once again, never did the feeling of being so utterly useless go away. A constant voice in the back of her mind asked her to stop dragging them all down.
Stanley tried to help her learn how to shoot a gun. Brody often invited her to help with his inventions. Maya urged her to become her pupil and learn combat. Xeno sometimes had her sit in his laboratory and tell him stories while observing his science.
Yet, she couldn't seem to learn anything despite their efforts.
Stories were all she knew, ones she wrote and read almost every day before getting hit by the green beam. The only form of entertainment she had for herself was pencils and paper.
Luna teasingly called her friend a shut-in, forcing her to go shopping, go to fancy restaurants, and go to the beach, all while tricking [Y/N]'s parents to never notice her absence. Teasing was all it was truly, Luna knew the [H/C] haired girl enjoyed the outdoors.
"Let's go take a walk in the forest!" Speak of the bubbly devil, [Y/N] choked on her drink and nearly got whiplash from the sound of the door slamming open. "No buts!"
"It's almost nighttime, is it okay?"
"Oh right, we'll take the boring route, that way we don't get lost."
Well, that plan backfired so horribly [Y/N] couldn't even help the laugh that escaped her lips, leave it to Luna to see a spider and run deeper into the forest like a screaming lunatic. She ran after her only to land herself in an area she didn't recognize, not that she ever memorized the endless rows of trees like the scouting team managed to do.
She sighed, rubbing her bare arms, a sweater would've been nice. It was too dark to see anything and [Y/N] knew it didn't matter if she returned or not, they would only be losing an extra mouth to feed.
The moon was obscured by thick tree branches and an overwhelming amount of leaves. Sure, she wasn't in any hurry to find her way back, but she didn't want to stay in the dark much longer either. Taking a step forward, she built the courage to keep going forward, pushing away thick vines and swatting the flying insects that got too close.
She hoped Luna made it back safely, no doubt Carlos and Max were desperately trying to find her.
It didn't take long for [Y/N] to reach a clearing. Rows and rows of beautiful cardinal flowers adorned the grass. Plucking one, she twirled it around and looked at the surroundings, finally noticing the cliff.
A cold breeze swept her [H/C] hair back gently, goosebumps covered her arms and legs, dress doing nothing to help shield her. The flower in her hand drifted away when she accidentally loosened her grip, "Ah, fuck..." she mumbled.
The water crashed into the rocks below with smooth waves, her steps took her closer to the edge. The moon was finally in full view, reflecting off the ocean's surface and creating a pretty glow.
God, what was she doing? Anxiety clawed at her chest. Were they happy she was gone? Did they ever hope someone with more use had been revived instead of her?
[Y/N]'s parents were gone, yet they still held power over her mind. Maybe if she had gone out more, and allowed herself to indulge in the outside world she'd be happier. If she had taken that one-in-a-million job offer she could've learned something useful. What...what if her parents hadn't been so controlling?
Maybes, ifs, and self-criticism clouded her thoughts.
No, they weren't here, not anymore. As an adult, she should've taken control of her own life; it was her fault for continuously wanting to be the perfect child in their eyes. Why was it so hard to break away from this feeling?
The sound of a branch snapping barely made her react. The smell of lingering smoke revealed the identity of the person standing behind her. Footsteps got closer, and a thick sweater was dropped on her shoulders.
"The hell are you doing? It'll be a hassle if you get a cold." The voice sighing, rustling of clothing and a match lighting was right next to her ear. [Y/N] turned to gaze at the blonde man, his eyes were half-lidded looking out beyond the cliff.
"Sorry." She snuggled into the clothing. Noticing it smelled heavily of cigarettes, she gave Stanley a quick look-over. "What about you?"
"Answer my question."
"I got lost."
"You didn't try to find your way, why?" She looked away when he stared at her from the corner of his eye.
"What makes you say that?"
He exhaled, smoke drifting into the air and tickling her nose. "Stop dodging my questions." Right, she forgets he's ex-military, he wasn't asking, he was ordering her.
"I contribute nothing, what's the point?" [Y/N] brushed her hair back when it stuck to her face by the wind. "Isn't it better to get rid of the weak links?"
"We're humans, not part of some mythical ass movie—or story. Getting rid of people in a world where we lack population is crazy talk."
"Even if they aren't useful?"
"Who said you weren't?"
Stanley flicked the end of his cigarette over the cliff, not bothering to watch it fall into the water and directing his attention to the shivering woman.
"Who?"
"Stop ordering me around, please." Her voice broke with words she desperately wanted to tell her parents back then. Were they easier now? Or was it because she knew Stanley wouldn't get upset at her request? He never treated her harshly, even when pathetic questions left her lips.
"Alright, could you please let me know who?"
He still held the commanding tone, albeit much softer this time, she chuckled at the effort.
"Nobody. Nobody said anything, they don't have to. Maybe they haven't thought about it that deeply, but they must have noticed how I'm just wandering around with no purpose, not helping, no ideas...nothing."
"A person with no purpose, wouldn't have kept their mind running for three-thousand years." Stanley noticed that once again, his fingers didn't reach for another cigarette. It was something he picked up being around [Y/N].
"Why did I fight so hard? Was I really that desperate to stay alive? How funny." Really, there wasn't anything amusing about it. [E/C] eyes filled with tears, blurring her view of the moon. "All I could feel was rage, anger for wasting my life molding myself to fit someone else's ideals."
"Begging whoever to bring me back, to give me a second chance. Then, the stone cracked, and I was placed in a world where brains and brawn were needed; it was back to square one." A tear escaped, rolling down her cheek and falling onto her boots.
"I can't do anything, and it's so frustrating. I spent so long pleading in the darkness, and I still stayed pathetic. I can't shoot a gun, I can't predict combat hits, and never could I dream of remembering a formula like Xeno or making mechanical blueprints like Brody."
"You don't need to be like them, or me." He placed a hand on her head, rubbing her [H/C] hair affectionately. "Do you know what we call you?"
She shook her head, rubbing away the droplets of water.
"[Y/N] the story teller. Or using Xeno's words, an elegant production of endorphins. Why do you think we all crowd around trying to steal you away from each other?"
The memory of Maya picking [Y/N] up like a rag doll, giggling and running from a frantic Brody who chased them down like hell was taking over, saying it was his turn to hear the Rumpelstiltskin tale, flooded her brain.
"Bringing up the moral, making us feel like there's something else to life other than focusing on our mere dull survival. You do that, so yeah, I'd say you're plenty useful."
"Saying all that gushy shit while petting my head, who are you and what have you done to Stanley?"
"Shut up." She laughed in response, his purple lips settling into a smile.
"Luna's most likely still freaking out, let's head back."
"Oh, yeah..." Sensing her hesitation, he sighed and bent slightly beside her. 'What is it—!?" Stanley picked her up bridal style, her hands curled up in into her chest, staring up at him with puffy red eyes and a deep blush on her cheeks.
"We're still going to talk about this, I'm sure Xeno would love to hear the rest."
"The rest?"
"Of what or who made you feel this way."
"I SAID NOBODY!"
...
...
"I see, so, who was it?"
[Y/N] was so over this, itching to grab an empty vial and hurl it at the scientist. Stanley grabbed her by the back of the dress, noticing she took a step forward.
"Are you even listening? Are either of you!?" Exasperated, she rolled her hands on her face, dragging it down dramatically. "Nobody here. Okay?"
"Hm."
Hm? Oh, her eyebrow twitched. She knew what they were trying to do, annoy her to spill information, except what difference would it make?
"Luna told us the gist while she was crying, parents huh?" The blonde whispered in her ear.
Her blabber mouth of a best friend, of course. Luna meant well, so if she mentioned something to them, she had a reason....is what [Y/N] hoped.
Stanley let go of her clothes and closed the door, leaning his back against it and crossing his arms. Xeno approached her right after putting down his sketch, a clawed finger lifting her chin to look into her [E/C] eyes.
"Would you like us to search for their statues?"
She blinked. So, Luna hadn't actually said anything. Was it his question that surprised her, or the gentleness in his onyx eyes?
"Uh, aha, they're dead-dead, Xeno."
It was his turn to blink. Stanley covered his snort with the back of his hand. Seeing his childhood friend baffled was rare, and of course, he would engrave this face into his mind.
"My apologies, I shouldn't have assumed." The sharp tip of his gloved finger poked her in the cheek.
"If you're going to touch my face, can you do it without those bear claws?"
"I take it you don't mind if I touch then?"
"My face." She deadpanned at his smug little smile.
"Get to the point, Xeno."
Xeno waved off Stanley with a 'yeah, yeah' comment, bringing his attention back to [Y/N]. Her eyes had cleared up, leaving only light red traces to linger on her eyelids. Lips parted to ask his next question when she took the initiative.
"Ever since I was old enough to talk, my parents made it clear my only goal in life was to keep the family business running. Not to run it myself, no, to marry a man who could take over it." She watched Xeno take off his glove, setting onto his desk.
"I wasn't allowed to venture outside, afraid I'd get an injury so bad it would scar and fumble my chances at marriage. A pretty face to auction out, that's what I was." Stanley no longer lingered by the door, standing right next to her.
Nobody but Luna knew this, her heart hammered in her chest, but she had to do this. They'd never stop asking, a scientist who hates the word no, and a soldier who's the only one allowed to say no.
"Luna slowly helped me get out of the house, what twelve-year-old doesn't know what ice cream is? Kind of laughable huh?" [Y/N] began to feel awkward when they gave no input, staring intently at her. Being heard like this, was so different to her usual life.
"I avoided it most of the time, scaring myself that I'd be a failure in their eyes. Then, the plane accident happened, just a few days before the petrification. I felt pure relief, that maybe, this was my chance to run away from it all and start fresh."
"However, because they sheltered me so much, I never learned anything outside of being a pretty little doll. Sure, I wrote short stories and learned old ones by heart, but I couldn't make a living off of that."
She breathed in harshly, softening her tone with the last words. "If I had taken that modeling gig Luna got me, I could've lived away from them, but living off of something my parents deemed my only use in life...I let it go."
"What about now? there is no requirement for you to make a profit to live. Being you is enough."
"Embrace your pretty face, they didn't do shit to make it like that, it was already beautiful."
"Shut up Stanley." She grumbled, earning her a chuckle. "Are my stories really enough?" Xeno pretended to think, making her nerves build up.
"No, they aren't. You, are."
"He's now a philosopher, [Y/N] watch out."
She giggled when Xeno sent Stanley a playful side-eye, "Thank you guys, really."
"Oh, this was a favor, darling."
oh?
"You owe us."
"You two really couldn't leave it as a sweet moment?"
"We'll be providing them later, for now, we'll take advantage to hog you for a week straight." Xeno smirked, walking around his desk to sit down. "Stories for only Stanley and I, no excuses."
providing them later? what? [Y/N] puffed out her cheeks in slight irritation, almost biting the hand that tried to pinch her face.
"You could've gotten them for free! All this false cute build up and for that?"
"Free sweet moments?" The soldier teased, finally managing to pinch her cheek.
"STORIES!"
"Sure, yeah uhu."
...
...
"—She was forced to step into the red-hot shoes and dance until she fell down dead. The end."
"So Disney lied?" Xeno mumbled, trying to recall the snow white movie he had seen as a kid.
"Well, kind of? Disney took the ideas and made them kid-friendly."
"Can't really imagine a kid wanting to idolize a princess who puts someone in burning shoes—except you, why are your eyes shimmering?" Stanley finally finished his shooting practice and turned to raise an eyebrow at the sitting pair.
[Y/N] had been happily swinging her legs during the story-telling, exaggerating scenes with her hands and smiling widely.
"Hey! It was only fair, that witch tried to kill snow white three times. Like you're not as pretty, get over it."
"Let's hope no one targets you."
Xeno continued to mumble, going over the details of the story, not noticing the blush coating her cheeks due to the insinuation of his words.
"Not like Stanley would let it happen three times, well, not even the first..."
Stanley nodded his head, reloading ammunition and hitting more bullseyes. [Y/N] was still not used to their comments, it had gotten better worse after coming clean on why she felt like she did.
"I'm pretty sure you'd be the one getting kidnapped, Xeno." She poked his temple, bringing back his attention towards her. "They'd want your brainnn~"
She wiggled her fingers, grinning when he half-heartedly swatted them away from his face, lips parting when he was suddenly holding her hand.
"Better learn how to shoot faster, you can come rescue me alongside Stan."
"I wouldn't be in a hurry."
"Yeah right." [Y/N] scoffed, raising their intertwined hands. "This is making you shake in your boots."
The soldier tucked his gun into the holster near his thigh, caramel eyes focused on the woman who got slightly startled when he walked closer to her.
He crouched right in front of her, separating her legs when she immediately snapped them close. Stanley kept eye contact with her and pulled her legs apart gently
[Y/N] couldn't bring herself to look away, squeezing Xeno's hand trying to comfort herself. He only laughed in response, watching them like it was a TV show episode.
"Who's shaking now?" Xeno murmured near her ear.
"You got something wrong, [Y/N]. I don't mind sharing with Xeno."
"I meant you being jealous of ME." She whined, trying to nudge Stanley away with her other leg, "And you, don't join in on his teasing." Placing a hand on Xeno's face, she pushed him back.
A sudden soft sensation landed on her inner thigh, Stanley had placed a kiss, holding the leg she tried to use to stop him.
[Y/N] scooted back in the wooden bench, letting out a yelp when she forgot the damn thing didn't have a backrest, slamming her body on the ground. Her legs dangled over the seat, two faces peered over her smirking in amusement.
"Shut up." She covered her face.
From then on, they always did something every time she told a story. Whether it be touching or in the form of compliments, it had her in a state of lose. Wondering if they were just trying hard to make her feel better.
Whenever she'd confront them about it, the only response was a smile and a shake of their head.
"—And thus, for their wickedness and falsehood, they were punished with blindness all their days."
"Think I like the Disney one better..."
"Hmm, I'll have to disagree, Stan."
[Y/N]'s week of....whatever this was, was over. The real Cinderella story marked the end, now she'd be allowed to hang out with the others.
"You into chicks who cut off a part of their foot to fit in some shoes?"
"Takes guts, no? Thought that was your type, Stan."
"This one's my type." The blonde grabbed her waist and pulled her in, nuzzling his chin on top of her head.
[E/C] eyes twitched, trying to compose herself, being around them so much, had sparked feelings she buried months ago. They were far out of her league for Christ's sake, it was getting harder to ignore.
"Stop touching me so casually."
"Push me away."
"I'm cold."
Laughter filled the laboratory, oh how she hated when they would team up to do this shit. [Y/N] didn't want him to let go of her though, swallowing the embarrassment down to relish in the few seconds of comfort.
"So, what's the next course of action?" She asked, trying to ignore the warmth of Stanley.
"It's a surprise." Xeno smiled, onyx eyes sparkling. [Y/N] was done being flustered, glaring at the rocket scientist when he approached them and caressed her face. "It'll be ready next week."
Warnings: None I think? Maybe fluff and fast-paced. This takes place in high school, so they're like 15-16 here.
(Idea is from a scene in the movie 'Sydney White', sorry if it feels like I forced Stan into the mix lol)
Summary: [Y/N] can't believe she wondered for even a second, if the possibility of new friends was worth ruining her friendship with two very lovable individuals.
Taglist: @akiqvq (Hope you like this haha💖)
Pairing: Stanley x Fem!Reader x Xeno
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[Y/N] clutched the edges of her skirt, a deep blush adorned her face trying to avoid the gazes of the girls standing before her. This was a terrible idea, she knew deep down guilt would overtake her.
"Can't it be someone else?"
"Nope, nerd, and he's your crush? Perfect choice." Maggie grinned, flipping her black hair behind her shoulder. The girls were part of a small little clique, dominating the cheerleading team and anything socially related.
The [H/C] haired girl had just been accepted into the squad, but needed to prove herself to them as a 'friend'. What was the requirement? Ask out one of the boys they deem a loser or awkward, then leave the restaurant, leaving them to handle the bill alone.
To them, it was a quick fun joke, to [Y/N]? Dread. Pure and utter dread was already consuming her from the mere thought of going through with it. Just a few days ago they had invited her to a sleepover, and when the topic of boys came up, she excitedly expressed her interest in the science club member named Xeno.
Big fucking mistake, who knew a bunch of fifteen-year-olds could be this twisted?
"You can always get someone better, you have a decent face, nice body, and a cheerleader now." Bridgette rolled her brown eyes, not seeing the big deal on this whole fiasco. They've all mostly done it before, forgetting who they had even picked in the past.
Although she was sure no one had picked Xeno yet, which excited the girls to witness this messy prank. They could agree he was cute and would've probably skipped out on him as a choice, but knowing [Y/N] had feelings for him was too good to pass up, something Maggie didn't overlook one bit.
"So, anyways. The restaurant you'll be going to is the one near the karaoke bar, Berlin's Delight was it? We'll be nearby, don't worry." Except that's what worried her the most, having their prying eyes suffocating her every move and word.
The very next day she stood outside the clubroom, taking in a deep breath and composing herself. How would she even get him to agree to a...date? They've only been friends for very few months, meeting at the start of the school year. She was sure he didn't feel the same way at all.
A hand suddenly reached from behind her, opening the door she had been hesitating to touch.
[Y/N]'s head shifted over her shoulder, gazing at the tall blonde who held a blank stare. Xeno's best friend, the second boy she expressed interest in, but ultimately wasn't chosen for this prank because he was part of the football team and a very common crush with the female and male students.
"You've always been eager to burst in there, what's up?" She gulped, feeling sweat start to build up. Stanley guided her into the room when she muttered nothing in return, making the young boy inside raise an eyebrow in wonder.
"Ah, [Y/N]. Do you need help with a question?" Her [E/C] eyes couldn't handle the gentleness his voice carried towards her, looking away and softly shaking her head. She took a seat nearby the metal counter, taking out a notebook and pretending to start her homework.
"Nothing like that, I just...needed some company." From the corner of her eye, she watched Xeno send her a smile and a quick nod, going back to his own little science world. It wasn't rare at all for them to sit in silence with each other, he liked the company of his favorite people.
Stanley couldn't shrug it off as fast as Xeno did, he kept his caramel eyes on her nervous figure, the slight scrunch in her eyebrows, and the trembling of her hand—he knew something was up. [Y/N] was a very shy individual, being a transfer student and forced to make new friends, it wasn't surprising for her to be this jittery.
However, she had gotten over it with them, she no longer stuttered her words or flustered whenever they'd invite her to lunch. Knowing that phase was over, made this behavior all the more suspicious and concerning.
"I heard from the guys you tried out for cheer, how'd it go?" She lifted her gaze, looking to the side and feeling her cheeks warm up from how close he was to her, if she moved even an inch they'd bump noses.
"Oh, I uh, I made the team..." Something clicked in his head, from how dejected she looked, to the uncertainty she carried. He wasn't a stranger to the pranks those girls liked to play, and it worried him that [Y/N] was planning to do something she didn't want to.
Stanley pursed his purple lips slightly, noticing the way her [E/C] eyes trailed to them, blush getting a tad bit darker. He knew she liked them both, what started off as a silly little tease fest, turned into something more. But he wasn't going to rush it at all unless she decided to take the initiative.
Maybe he'd sneak in a kiss though.
Xeno kept his attention to his beaker, writing down the changes in his notepad. Despite his determination to keep focus, his ears were still very distracted by their words. The color turned a bright blue, and confusion settled in his head.
"It was supposed to be green..." He muttered, looking over the chemical bottles he used, onyx eyes dropping in annoyance and a loud sigh caught the sitting pair's attention. "Someone changed the liquids around."
It wasn't like was a bully target, knowing full well Stanley had threatened those who tried it before, effectively cutting any chance for it to continue.
[Y/N] felt a shiver run down her spine, there was no explanation other than Maggie sending someone over to do this. It wasn't a target for Xeno specifically, no, it was for her. A warning, if she didn't go through with it, they'd take the steps necessary.
"Guess I should be glad they weren't as dumb to switch around the lithium, would've exploded right in my face."
Those words made the pencil in her hand snap in half, why did she have to mention him during that stupid sleepover? Unknowingly dragging him into the claws of the cheerleaders, anger brought slight chest pains. Pranks were meant to be harmless and fun, not borderline dangerous and humiliating.
"Hey, Xeno?" He hummed in response while pouring the failed mixture down the drain, wiping down the counter while sending her a quick look—letting her know he was listening.
"Are you free this Saturday? Berlin's delight, 7 pm." [Y/N] stuffed the notebook in her bag, hesitating to move away from the pretty blonde, but knowing she had to leave the room before he could verbally deny her request. "Bye."
That solidified it for Stanley, who felt his mood drop drastically. He turned to look at his best friend, watching him blink in surprise.
"I'm sure you picked up on the signs too."
The white-haired teen chuckled softly, washing his hands thoroughly and then walking around the counter to settle next to the blonde. Both boys gazing at the door she walked out of.
"I didn't peg [Y/N] to be the type, somehow I'm more curious to see the outcome rather than upset."
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Slipping on her white pumps, [Y/N] felt her heart hammering in her chest, smoothing out the light blue sundress and putting pins to hold her [H/C] hair back from falling into her eyes. Her lips were a glossy pink, light mascara, and a pinch of highlighter.
'The girls and I are going to be there shortly, put on a show will you?'
She threw her phone into her purse, grumbling under her breath and checking over her outfit for what seemed like the hundredth time. Her mother knocked softly and opened the door, peeking her head in with a concerned gaze.
"You've been getting ready since three o'clock dear, is everything okay? We need to go soon."
"I'm ready."
The car ride was silent, the soft hum of the radio barely kept her brain occupied away from her thoughts. Reaching a red light, [M/N] glanced to the passenger seat, seeing her daughter gazing out the window.
"Okay, something's up. What is it?"
[Y/N] pursed her lips, and the hand on her dress tightened.
"If you needed to lose two friends for a new group of friends, would it be worth it?"
"Are those two perhaps the boys you like?" Her voice held a teasing tone, laughing when [Y/N] murmured a 'stop it' and covered her face in embarrassment. "Judging from that reaction, no, darling it's not worth it. If your new potential friends take away what you hold dear, they aren't real friends, now are they?"
"I taught you to follow your heart, Xeno and Stanley seem like very nice kids, even if they only came over a few times. They're good for you, don't lose good over an 'if', ever."
The conversation was finalized right when the green light sparked, driving off and getting closer to the destination. Her watch blinked 6:55 pm, she took in a deep breath and ran her mom's words again and again in her head.
It didn't take long to arrive at the parking lot, receiving a comforting smile from her mom she opened the door, waving slightly, and walking towards the crowded line. Maggie had assured her she set up a reservation, even then, she wasn't sure if Xeno would even come.
There was no text message, from him, or sent from her. [Y/N] brushed passed the angered adults muttering half-hearted apologies and going up to the hostess who was trying to calm them all down.
"Hi, I have a reservation for 7 pm under the name of [L/N]."
"Ah, yes here you are. Table for two, we have a corner booth set up for you. Follow me." The woman gave her a tired smile, eyebags prominent and cheeks sunken in. She guided the teen towards her table, setting down a menu and quickly telling her the specials.
"I'll be okay with the wait time, don't worry about me." The hostess huffed out a heavy sigh, nearly close to tears from her reassuring voice. "Two waters for now will be fine."
[Y/N] took out her phone, sending a quick text to let Xeno know about the reservation, shutting it off not wanting to see his reply or lack of one. A few seconds later she looked around the full restaurant, body going rigid when she gazed at the group of girls sitting at the opposite side. Bridgett sent her a thumbs up, smugly smiling when [Y/N] bit her lip harshly in response.
"Right over here sir."
[E/C] eyes filled with sparkles, looking up to see Xeno approach her table and sit down with a soft smile. His white hair was in the usual small pompadour style, but seeing him wear casual clothing always made her heart skip a beat.
A black long-sleeved shirt covered by a black vest and accessorized by a tie that matched the color of her eyes. Matching black pants and dress shoes.
"Hello, [Y/N]." She melted when he rolled up his sleeves, showing off the watch she and Stanley had gotten him for his birthday. She murmured a greeting back, watching his smile stretch further when she tried to hide her growing blush.
"Hi, I'm Yuna, I'll be your waitress for the night. Would you like to order drinks while you look over the menu?"
"I'll stick to water." Xeno took a sip and picked up the menu, gazing over the contents.
"A lemon mocktail please." [Y/N] needed something to quickstart herself, picking up the menu as well and nearly grimacing at the dish prices. For a damned casual place, these amounts were out of this world. An obvious reason why Maggie insisted on this place, wanting the bill to be high as hell for the boy.
"I'll admit, I was a bit surprised by your forwardness. Seems like you've grown more comfortable, I'm glad."
Shut up. The more he spoke the more she nearly folded, he set down the menu, trapping her into an intense eye contact. Holding his cheek up with his hand, his onyx eyes lidded when she couldn't look away.
"I'm sorry, I practically forced you to come."
"No worries, I'm happy to be here."
[Y/N] paused, hearing the slight edge to his words. She twiddled her thumbs, trying to hide the shakiness of her hands. Her drink was set on the table, thanking the waitress she immediately took a gulp, sighing in contentment when it started to cool off her face.
"I uh, I heard from Mrs. Hunter that you got an internship at NASA. How is it?"
"Interesting, although they haven't given me permission to meddle with actual rocket components."
"You're very smart and they'll realize the extent of it soon enough. I'm sure of it."
Xeno had seen the giggling girls a few moments after entering the restaurant, sending them a glare with a sharp smile on his lips. To make [Y/N] feel like she needed to prove herself in such a silly way, warmed his blood significantly.
Yuna came over a few minutes later, taking their food orders and walking away. Xeno immediately stood up, asking [Y/N] to give him a minute, and walked off. Ironic how panic settled within her, did he know what was happening and decide to leave her with the humiliation instead?
She stayed still, swirling the straw in her mocktail trying to avoid the confused eyes of the cheerleaders. [Y/N] wasn't planning on going through with it in the long run, even then, she deserved this treatment.
"Sorry, I needed to change something on my order." Xeno sat down once again, holding in the chuckle from seeing her inner turmoil. She looked cute like this.
"M'kay." He was intent on keeping her eyes on him, catching onto the fact that the [H/C] haired girl found it hard to look away from him. When she first sat at lunch with him and Stanley, she barely gazed up from her lunchbox, face redder than beets. Xeno liked seeing her blush, it always portrayed her emotions so blatantly even when she tried hard to hide them.
"So, will you be in the front lines for the next tournament?"
"Well, I'm the best for flashy moves like the backflips, handsprings, and such—oh! I didn't mean to sound so egotistical..." She covered her face with her yellow-colored drink, hearing him laugh lightly at her self-concern.
"If you're the best, it's natural to embrace the thought. It's not like its a lie anyway." Xeno beamed, nearly gloating for her. He'd seen her practice almost every day, only when Stanley planted the idea of joining the cheerleading team did she enhance her training.
"Don't feed my ego so much Xeno." She giggled, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.
Their food arrived and conversation slowly flowed out naturally, laughing in-between bites and having a good time. She had momentarily forgotten the reason they were really here, enjoying Xeno's company in a much more intimate light.
'Bathroom. Now.'
The lit-up text had her sucking in a deep breath, sending Xeno a brief shaky smile she got up from the table, clutching her purse. "I need to use the bathroom."
[Y/N] made her way over, the door slammed shut when she walked inside. Annoyed faces gazed at her, Maggie looked at her with a blank expression instead, arms crossed and cornering [Y/N] near the sinks.
"What are you doing? Did you forget what we're here for?"
Bridgett hopped up on the sink counter, staring down at [Y/N] who opened up her purse to take out her lip-gloss, touching up on her makeup. She ignored them, keeping her eyes on herself through the mirror.
"Chicken." Maggie taunted, leaning in the mirror, close to the teen. "Do it, or don't bother coming to practice again."
It was kind of cute, seeing someone who couldn't compare to your skill level be so adamant. Trying to hold themselves above everyone else when they offered absolutely nothing in return.
"I think you've forgotten something, you aren't in charge, only coach can kick me out."
"As the captain, I hold much more power than you think."
[Y/N] rolled her eyes, getting angrier by the second. Why did she even want to be friends with them in the first place? Right, being in a squad with people you dislike was horrible, and brought so much struggle into the routines. Yet, thinking back on her mom's words, and her own thoughts, she wasn't about to let them ruin this.
Was she really going to ruin the friendship she managed to build with these two? Over a group of girls who would drop her in the blink of an eye if she wore anything they didn't deem fashionable enough?
Yeah fucking right, she chuckled looking into the mirror. Feelings dissipating and turning to look at Maggie, who was startled at the sudden close proximity.
"When you become half as good as me, you can talk your shit. Get out of my way." [Y/N] bumped her shoulder into the black-haired girl, making her stumble back from the impact. Her confidence was only shown on the outside, inside she was freaking out, never thinking she'd be capable of doing something like that.
The girls guarding the door moved out of the way, never had they seen [Y/N] so enraged. They exchanged glances between each other, realizing how right the [H/C] haired girl was. Maggie and Bridgett didn't really contribute much to their cheers, lacking both flexibility and leadership.
Leaving the bathroom, followed by the entire flock of girls they all froze simultaneously. [Y/N]'s table was empty. Xeno nowhere to be seen and she felt a lump rapidly grow in her throat, a laugh suddenly broke her trance.
"Seems like loverboy didn't hold the same sentiment as you, guess the prank worked anyway."
"Shut up Maggie!" Nina snapped, balling her hands into fists. She was one of the 'lucky' few who only had to humiliate herself, not someone else. Seeing [Y/N], who taught her how to tumble safely, looking so sad made her feel bad.
"Excuse me?" Bridgett stepped up for her friend, raising a hand to slap the meek girl when her wrist got caught in a tight grip.
"Will you both just fuck off?" [E/C] eyes narrowed, pushing the girl back and walking to the bar counter. The squad dissipated, with Maggie and Bridgett walking out together and the other girls settling back at their table with troubled expressions.
"Hi, Yuna? I'd like to pay for the check now."
The waitress bumped her head from how fast she sprung up from the bar's lower shelves, she blinked trying to regain her balance and walked up to the frowning girl.
"Oh, that boy paid right after you ordered."
So that's why he had gotten up, he had basically done what the prank called for. Tears welled up in her eyes, startling the woman in front of her.
"I'll stay seated for a few minutes if that's okay."
Yuna nodded, watching the teen walk off quickly. She glanced at the paid bill, remembering the items he had added before sitting back down earlier.
[Y/N] stared at the unfinished plates, more than half of his chicken fillet was left and the water was topped off. She pushed away her own food, no longer feeling an appetite for the pasta. Crossing her arms over the table and settling her head on them, trying to stop the tears from spilling.
This was all her fault, having no one to blame but herself. Xeno wasn't an idiot, and surely Stanley told him the extent of what this date could mean. There was no way for Xeno to know she wouldn't go through with it, maybe that was the only reason he came, to let her feel what he would've felt if she left first.
"Well, you were right." Stanley finished his cigarette throwing it in the large bin nearby, both boys gazing at the large window and settling their eyes on [Y/N].
"I'm sure you're also aware of her real crush on us. She can barely conceal it." Xeno had assured Stanley firmly, that she had invited him out of sheer adrenaline. [Y/N] wasn't capable of going through with this cruel prank, no matter what target was chosen.
The girl lifted her head when new plates were placed on her table, Yuna smiled down at her. A pretty [Fav/Flavor] cake was pushed towards her, while a serving of steaming fettuccini alfredo pasta was on the other side of the table.
"Items he added, told me to wait like 20 minutes before bringing them out. Enjoy."
She was utterly confused, ignoring the pasta and fawning internally over the pastry. Getting a good chunk of it on the fork, she took the bite, nearly moaning at how good it tasted.
The fork stayed between her lips, staring off into space and feeling the tears stream down her face again. He was still being nice after what she had done, everything was ruined, and she had no idea how she could ever face them again.
A soft hand landed on her head, [E/C] eyes filled with unshed tears looked up to widen at the gentle smile gazing down at her. Stanley ruffled her hair, caressing gently and wiping away her tears with his free hand.
"Stanley was in the area, I went to fetch him." Xeno sat, continuing his meal like nothing had happened. Stanley took a seat next to her, pulling the plate of fresh pasta closer and eating as well.
"I'm sorry." [Y/N] picked up a napkin, wiping her eyes carefully. Her mascara was absolutely ruined, and she knew she probably looked like a damp raccoon right now. "It's stupid to be crying, you had every right to leave..."
"Don't worry, I know you like me."
...
...
The tears quickly evaporated, leaving her to look at his smug smile like a gaping fish out of water.
"And me."
Stanley really didn't need to add his commentary, but he took the chance to tease her anyway. His arm rested on the booth's seat, right behind her. [Y/N] was caged, feeling his body warmth reach her.
"I ended up using it as an excuse to go on a date with you, even if they were watching me like hawks." She poked Stanley's thigh, pouting her lips when they laughed at her flustered state, a sort of relief washed over her.
"You don't need any further excuses, we may go out together whenever you desire."
together.
They didn't notice Yuna watching them with sparkly eyes, peeking over the bar in wonder. Never had she seen mere teens be this romantic or self-aware, that girl was super lucky. The hostess sighed finally finishing up setting tables, side-eyeing her fangirling coworker.
"This isn't a K-drama, get back to work."
[Y/N] stuffed her face with the last bite of the cake, not leaving a single crumb of that amazing desert. They all got up and grabbed their things, making it out of the restaurant while thanking the staff.
The cold night was shielded by the thick sweater that enveloped her, Stanley took out a cigarette to keep himself warm. She slid her arms into the sleeves and sighed in contentment, watching the tall blonde walk forward to avoid the smoke getting near them.
Xeno matched her pace, keeping his hands pocketed. He slowly took a hand out, reaching out to hold hers. It stopped her steps, he felt her slowly squeeze him, as if checking if this was real.
He bent down slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of her lips.
"Whipped cream."
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"Well, I can't say I'm surprised." [M/N] held her face in her hands, having not one, but two boys asking permission to date her daughter, oh my it was so adorable. "There wasn't a single conversation where you two weren't mentioned."
Xeno, Stanley, and [M/N] shared a smile when they heard a loud crash coming from upstairs. Stomping footsteps got closer and out came a stumbling [Y/N], trying to put on her school shoes while maintaining her balance going down the stairs.
"Don't expose me like that, please mom."
"Ah, watch out boys, she has a killer puppy face."
Morning chills overtook her, usually, her mom would drop her off but both boys insisted on walking her. She snuggled into the sweater Stanley had given her two days ago, assuring her he wanted her to keep it.
"This also means you two will eventually be dating each other, right?"
"Yes, indeed." Xeno raised an eyebrow when she put a finger under her chin, muttering under her breath and looking up at the cloudy sky in a giddy gaze. He glanced at Stanley who was holding in a laugh, urging him to voice his amusement.
"She's imagining us together, like those BL stories she reads occasionally."
[Y/N] nearly tripped on the sidewalk's cracked cement, Xeno swiftly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled towards him, her back colliding into his side. She jumped away from his grasp, grabbing Stanley by the tie and pulling his head down to her level.
"When and where did you see that?"
Caramel eyes held nothing but mischief, giving her a brief wink and a kiss to the tip of her nose. His fingers gently unlaced her grasp on his clothing and smoothed it out, a hand grabbing hers and continuing their walk.
"I always wondered what the big paragraphs of text you'd read were about, guess that sums it up." Xeno gave a fake thoughtful hum hiding his amusement, trailing a few steps behind them. His wrist suddenly got yanked forward, and [Y/N] was holding both their hands now.
Her lower face was stuffed into the sweater's high collar, keeping her [E/C] eyes focused on the ground, trying not to trip again. She was mortified they knew about her little...hobby...well who could blame her really? Good literature is good literature, no matter the content.
Chatter was now reaching their eyes, [Y/N] took a sharp breath in, feeling worry settle in her being like an unwanted parasite. She felt slight comfort knowing Stanley and Xeno didn't mind the gossip, they wouldn't care about people's opinion on their relationship.
She didn't either to be honest, but the thought of everyone turning against her in the blink of an eye felt scary. The school building was finally nearing, some students turned to look at them, whispering amongst each other.
"Two? Isn't that weird?"
"Maggie said [Y/N] was kind of a slut."
"Bridgett said the same, apparently she's very easy."
Stanley cleared his throat loudly, making the gossipers freeze up. He gently swung the intertwined hands, bringing her attention up to him.
"Let's have lunch on the rooftop, Xeno doesn't have an experiment to do today."
That surprised her to the very core, snapping her neck to Xeno, who was mindlessly scrolling on his phone. Feeling her piercing gaze, he lifted his face away from the screen and tilted his head at her. [Y/N] thought he looked like a lost little puppy, wanting to pinch his cheeks.
"No experiment? What's wrong?"
"Nothing at all, I'll be working on some internship papers my mentor has provided for me. If I ace them, those rocket parts will be mine to tinker with." Onyx eyes sparkled excitedly, pocketing his phone and adjusting his schoolbag strap.
"[Y/N]!"
Nina came running up behind them, jumping on her back and almost toppling them over. [Y/N] blinked at the beaming girl, her blue eyes were wide and a grin played on her lips.
"Hi?"
"I have direct orders from the girls to bring you to the gym."
Stanley and Xeno shared a quick worried glance, approaching the girls' figures. Each putting a hand on the bubbly teen's shoulders and lightly pulling her back, Nina was even shorter than [Y/N], leaving her to crane her neck to look at the skyscrapers glaring down.
[Y/N] stood a few steps away, watching them do a silent interrogation. Holding in a laugh at how serious they looked, and a bit of adoration seeing them so protective.
"Oh, no! I promise it's nothing like that, you two are welcome to tag along."
So they did, Nina held [Y/N]'s hand guiding her towards the destination. Her two almost-boyfriends strolled not too far behind, ready for whatever was coming.
...
...
"New captain huh? I expected a catfight or something." [Y/N] was still processing what had just transpired, apparently the rest of the team had voted out Maggie as the captain, sadly still having to deal with Bridgett as the vice.
"A catfight? You're more into actual combat, or am I wrong?" Stanley bumped his shoulder into Xeno's, the science enthusiast chuckled at the weak attempt to shut him up.
The childhood friends continued to play fight, nearly spilling their food over their uniforms and the rooftop flooring. [Y/N] still managed to pull Xeno's important files and Stanley's cigarette box from harm's way, even while being deep in her thoughts.
Nina along with Crystal and Hannah, finally spilled the beans on why Maggie was so persistent with this particular prank. She has a crush on Stanley, if [Y/N] had gone along with the scheme, it would not only ruin her standing with Xeno, Stanley would've been collateral damage.
"Let's go on that date soon, I need to post many, many pictures." [Y/N] finished the small bag of peanuts, taking a sip of her favorite energy drink. "Well maybe I shouldn't stir the pot but the look on her face will be priceless."
Stanley and Xeno pulled away from each other, interested in the way [Y/N] looked like she was about to start a war. Xeno slid his notes back, trying to resume his task but was stopped by her sharp gasp. [Y/N] scooted closer to them, settling in between their seated figures.
"Kiss me." She puckered her lips up at Stanley who's eyebrows shot up at her bold ask, he didn't hesitate for long, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. When he pulled away, [Y/N] immediately opened her phone camera, ensuring the purple lipstick had adorned her lips.
Her face turned to the side, kissing Xeno on the lips and pulling Stanley closer to the frame by his tie. Snapping the photo and grinning down at it, this would indeed send the message she desired. Loud and clear.
"They can bitch all they want, as long as they know you're both mine in the end."
Xeno blinked rapidly, never had he heard her swear, and a little dazed from the kiss. He felt her fingers slightly rub away the color from his mouth and her own, smiling sweetly.
"Guess our shy little [Y/N] is gone. As much as I adore seeing you so confident, I'll miss those flustered looks you...nevermind, there you are." [Y/N] stuffed her red face in Stanley's school sweater, still holding onto Xeno's hand.
She could get used to this. Maybe a little less teasing.
Pairing: Dads!StanXeno x Mom!Reader
Timeline on this one is pretty ambiguous. I personally view it as pre-petrification/an AU where the petrification never took place, but could be read as post-canon
Summary: Just being woken up in the middle of the night by your baby, and some sweet moments with your boys.
TW: Reader is AFAB in this one. No pronouns are used. Mention of pregnancy, themes of postpartum anxiety.
Word Count: 1,871
A/N: Don't you guys love it when I just drop a fic and then dip for like 2 weeks? Me neither :') I wish I was able to be more active and write more but GAWD I do not have the time. But I have dad!StanXeno brainrot rn. It just... appeared (it's always been there) And it's really all I wanna write about rn so here you go.
The three of you were roused awake all at once by the shrill sound of crying over the monitor on the bedside table. Deep inhales, quiet grunts, and rustling could be heard in the dark room. You were the first to sit up, checking the time on the clock- 12:34am- and moving to climb over Stanley to get to the bedroom door. He put his arm out to stop you.
“I’ll get her.” He said, sitting himself up, running a hand through his hair before standing.
“She’s probably hungry,” you reply, “I need to get her.” You moved once again to get out of bed before Stanley stopped you, gently pushing you down.
“If that’s what she needs, then I’ll bring her to you. Just rest, baby.” Reluctantly, you laid back down as he walked out of the room, grabbing the monitor off the night stand to watch your daughter. Her cries pull at you, and you wanted nothing more than to run in there and help calm her down. You watch Stanley’s figure come into frame, leaning over her crib and lifting her out. The monitor was quickly snatched away from you.
“I believe Stanley told you to rest, darling.” Xeno’s voice was sleepy, and a little grumpy- he did not respond as well to being woken up as you and Stan did. He muted the monitor and set it on the table on his side of the bed. “You always jump at the first sign of distress with her, let Stan handle it this time.” He reached his arms out, pulling you into him.
“I know, I just can’t help it,” you said, fighting off a yawn. You curled into Xeno’s hold, but your eyes remained wide open.
“I understand, darling. A mother’s instincts are a strong force. However, so is sleep deprivation. She is our daughter, too, and you are our wife. Let us take care of you both.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, running his fingers through your hair. You nodded, too tired to continue the back and forth. And, he was right.
From the moment you told them you were pregnant, both Stan and Xeno had been model fathers. They both were able to fill in their roles perfectly. Stanley was the one to build the crib, paint the nursery, and take on any other high labor task you couldn’t do around the house while pregnant. Xeno made sure to keep track of all the doctor’s appointments, your nutritional intake, anything to do with your wellbeing. Since the very beginning of your relationship, your boys have given you the princess treatment. During your pregnancy, they treated you like a queen- never having to lift a finger if you did not want to.
That didn’t change once your daughter was born. You just struggled with being away from her. She had lived and grown in the safety of your body for nine months. Without that feeling of security, the anxieties of becoming a parent hit you all at once. Stanley and Xeno were nothing short of perfect with the both of you. They would take turns contact napping with her when she wouldn’t go down so you could get some sleep, they ran all the errands, fixed the meals, everything they could to help ease your stress while they were on leave. Even so, even after 7 months of having your daughter, you still were the first to run to her when she started crying. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to help, it’s just that you knew you could. The sound of her crying or fussing flipped a switch in you, something pulling at your gut telling you that you needed to get to her as fast as you could. A habit Stanley and Xeno were currently trying to break in you, as you hadn’t been getting much, if any, sleep.
Even now, her cries from the nursery had lessened, and you knew Stanley had her, but you were wide awake still. It had been several minutes since he had left the room, and you could tell Xeno had already fallen back asleep- his breaths deep and even, and his grip loosening on you. You knew you were tired, exhausted even, and you knew your daughter was safe and cared for with her father, but something in your brain told you that you needed to see her before you could rest again.
Carefully, as slowly and quietly as you could, you snuck your way out of bed. Silently, you made the short journey down the hall to the nursery. The door was partially open, and you could hear a soft voice inside. You leaned against the door frame, taking in the sight in front of you.
“I never thought through love we'd be
Making one as lovely as she
But isn't she lovely, made from love”
The soft sound of Stanley singing filled the room, and in the dim glow of the nightlight, you could see him- cradling her in his arms, rocking her gently, quiet steps shuffling around the room. Your heart swelled. It didn’t matter how many times you had seen this sight and ones similar, seeing your boys like this always filled you with warmth. It was always beautiful- to see the two men you loved the most, the ones that the rest of the world perceived to be cold, cruel, and calculating, doing something so gentle. Something so full of love.
In his quiet shuffling around the room, Stanley spotted you in the door frame. His singing quieted, and he smiled at you, still rocking your baby. You walked up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist, your other hand going under his to also cradle her, you leaned your head on his arms.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” He whispered, his voice nearly silent.
“Sorry,” you whispered back, “Xen fell back asleep so there was no one to hold me back.” You could feel him stifle a laugh. “Plus, I’ll never pass up an opportunity to see this.”
He kissed the top of your head, and you both looked down at the sleeping girl in your arms.
“God, she’s so perfect.” He said, and you nodded.
“It’s because she looks like me.” Stanley had to hold back another laugh. It was true- when you found out you were pregnant, the three of you were all curious to see if you would be able to tell who the biological father was when the baby was born. Not that it mattered to any of you, and you certainly weren’t going to get it tested. Still, it was a natural curiosity, and you were all anxiously awaiting getting to see what your little bundle of joy would look like. Cue the surprise when your daughter came out with H/C hair, E/C eyes, and your nose. The comedy of it was never lost on the three of you.
You both stood in comfortable silence, watching her fall deeper into sleep. When you heard the loud, deep SIGH, Stan broke away from you.
“She’s out.” He whispered, and moved back to her crib, laying her down. He walked back over to you, placing a hand on the small of your back to lead you out of the room. Shutting the door softly behind you, he grabbed you by the hips and placed a soft kiss on your lips.
“You need to get to bed, doll.” He said, his voice raising just above a whisper.
“Yeah, yeah.” You muttered, breaking away from his hold. You both quietly walked back into your bedroom, expecting to find a sleeping Xeno. Instead, he was sitting up- his white hair dishelved, pieces of it falling in his face- holding the monitor, watching your daughter. He looked up as the two of you entered.
“I’ve been made aware that there was a party of sorts in our daughters room, and I was the only one not invited?” You both laughed at his dramatics.
“Snooze you lose, babe.” Stanley said, earning an exaggerated eye roll from Xeno. You climbed into bed, curling up against Xeno’s side, your head resting on his shoulder. Stanley followed after you, draping his arm around the shoulders of both of you. You watched the monitor, watching your sweet girl shifting in her sleep.
“God, she’s so cute. I just wanna climb in there with her and stare at her all night.” You said, getting a short laugh out of both boys.
“Darling, the last thing you need is another reason not to sleep.” Xeno said, pressing a kiss to your temple. He set the monitor aside, out of view. You groaned in feigned annoyance and laid down, tucking the covers up under your chin. You turned to lay on your side, facing Xeno. Both men wrapped their arms around you, and you could very quickly feel yourself falling back to sleep.
“Next wake up, it’s on you, Xen. So she can’t escape this time.” Stanley said. You were too tired to fire back with any kind of response, but you could hear Xeno chuckling.
“With pleasure, my dear.” Xeno responded, a yawn breaking through his words, “Now, please, we all need to get back to sleep.”
You could feel the pillows shift as Stanley nodded, “G’night, you two. Love you both.” He mumbled, sleep washing him over fast.
“I love you both, as well.” Xeno responded. You let out a hum, and a sound that in no way could have been perceived as words, but they both understood the intent. Once again, sleep managed to wash over the three of you.
At 4 in the morning, shrill cries once again sounded through the monitor. And, again, the sounds of sharp inhales, soft grunts, and rustling could be heard in your bedroom as the three of you stirred. You started to sit up, before a pair of strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you back down to the bed.
“I’m already on my way, dear.” Xeno stood as he replied, quietly making his way out of the room. You craned your neck up to try and catch a peak at the monitor before Stanely flipped you over to face him.
“C’mon, doll. Or do I need to sing you a lullaby, too?” Stanley teased, a hand finding its way to play with your hair.
“Well, it couldn’t hurt.” You shot back, your smirk hidden by the dark in your room, but practically audible in your words.
Stanley scoffed, “Just go to sleep.” You nodded and buried your face in his chest, trying to block out the sound of cries that made your heart race so bad. Stanley hummed quietly, fingers stroking through your hair. Soon, your daughter’s cries died down, along with the racing in your mind. You were still half awake when Xeno came back into the room several minutes later. Once you could feel his warmth in the bed, and the room once again filled with the steady, even breaths of your husbands, you found yourself finally able to fully doze back to sleep.
A/N: Bro I love author's notes. I love forcing you guys to either read or scroll past my yapping. What a time to be alive.
But anyway, I am slowly.... but surely working on the next part of Opposite Sides of the War. I need to figure out what route I want to take here, because I thought I knew and then I started writing it and then I didn't know :') Until then, I'm probably just going to be writing this trio as parents bc it's what my brain is stuck on.
Okay see you love you byeeee
s. stanley x w. xeno x pregant!reader ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ cw. polygamous, fem!pregant!reader, fluff, mention of alcohol, angst if you squint.
the mission was a triumphal success, everyone came back safe and sound, the quartet had been awarded with medals at their return ─ even if kohaku was asleep during the whole ceremony. it was clear that they had made history by being the first humans to go to the moon after the petrification of the world.
but seeing them stand so proudly brought tears in your eyes. you couldn’t wait for them to go down of the platform to hug your husband, stanley.
you were literally a time bomb as the ceremony would drag on, and xeno, your husband too, had to keep you in place or else you would probably combust and run amongst the crowd to steal stanley before he could even give an inspirational speech.
“calm down honey, it is just a matter of time before the end.” his clawed-hand rested on the small of your back, rubbing slow circles over it.
in a way, it helped soothe you as you leaned a little bit more into his side. “i know, but it’s been too long.” you let out a sigh, looking around the crowd before you averted your gaze back on stanley standing up there.
“it has been only a few days at most, dear.” xeno smirked at your desperate expression, enjoying this a tad too much ─ the way your emotions would strike to extremes back and forth these last few days was endearing.
“minus the time he was kept in the stone.” you grumbled back, “at least he’s back.” your head fell on the scientist’s shoulder, another sigh leaving the barrier of your lips.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𖥻⠀⠀ ִ ۫ ּ ⠀⠀ 𖦹 ⠀⠀، ݃⠀⠀𐙚⠀⠀❜
before you knew it, the crowd began to be smaller and smaller, until no one was left but you, xeno and a stanley walking towards the both of you. your smile was as bright as the sunlight when you engulfed the soldier in a tight embrace. “welcome back, stan.” you felt his arms snake around your waist, burying his face in your hair at the same time.
“missed you both.” the sound of his voice was muffled by your hair but still clear enough for you and xeno to understand. honestly, you couldn’t have been happier to be reunited with your two husbands, to have them at arm's length once again.
as you melted into the other’s warmth, you decided it was time to finally take a step back from the blonde to let xeno have a moment with him as well. you couldn’t help but fangirl seeing them kiss ─ perhaps, you were their biggest fan.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𖥻⠀⠀ ִ ۫ ּ ⠀⠀ 𖦹 ⠀⠀، ݃⠀⠀𐙚⠀⠀❜
and just like that, the three of you made your way to join the rest of the kingdom of science in a clearing where a big celebration party was held in honor of the success of the mission.
some people were already drunk and it wasn’t surprising at all.
françois came greeting the three of you as soon as you arrived, a plate with glasses full of champagne in their hand. “would you like one ?” they asked, that same delicate smile etched onto their lips. both of the men took a glass, as for you, you gently shook your head off, dismissing the offer.
however, your sudden dismissal caught stanley’s attention since he knew you would never skip the opportunity to drink at least one glass of alcohol, especially during a party. his brows furrowed a fraction of second, wondering what could have changed in such a short period of time while he was in space.
until now, he was oblivious of the life growing inside your womb.
his gaze landed on xeno who gave you a nod of approval. you clearly knew something he didn’t and it made him upset to not be included in what looked like a secret shared between his loved ones. but xeno seemed to notice the turmoil eating his husband, “something the matter, stan ?”
“is there anything I should be aware of ?” he questioned, bringing a lighter to his lips to light a cigarette, only to be snatched away by the scientist.
“you shouldn’t smoke around a pregnant lady, love. that's all i can say.”
“i don’t see one─” his words died on the tip of his tongue as he came to the realization of what xeno had just said, turning on his heels to face you. “you─ for how long ? when did you discover it ?” the flow of questions made you giggle as you placed a hand on your stomach.
“i learned about it right before you left, and yet i couldn’t bring myself to tell you in case something happened up there.” your voice was lower now, trembling, like you were suddenly afraid of his reaction. “i was scared and i know i should have told you sooner, it was wrong to keep you in the dark any longer.” you bit your lower lip, meeting the eyes of your husbands, one by one. “honestly, i’m still scared.”
“we will make it work” stanley covered your tummy with his hand, rubbing the expanse of skin soothingly “together.” he affirmed confidently, xeno nodding along the way. you weren’t alone and knowing that made you feel better, like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.
everything would go well, as long as you stayed strong for each other.
Synopsis: Being with Stanley or Xeno one on one is thrilling enough. What happens when they scheme together?
Content Warnings: f!reader, oral s , threesome (f/m/m), implied love triangle/polyamorous dynamic, p in v, porn with plot
2.6k words
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
You were sipping on your wine sitting on the couch. Xeno and Stanley were talking about god knows what, but you were gone. Your mind was elsewhere.
You had been with Stanley AND Xeno, on the same day. For years, it’s been barely a fantasy, a passing thought when you felt alone, something that would never come to fruition. But in a day, all of that has changed. You were lost, still taking in the events.
Stanley's words echoed in your mind. “Can’t leave Xe waiting”. What did that mean? Did it mean what you thought?
“What do you think, Y/N?” Stan asked, pulling you out of your daydream.
You blinked, realizing both of them were now looking at you.
“Sorry, I zoned out” you replied, taking another sip of your wine.
“Who likes you more?” replied Xeno.
You froze. Huh?
Stanley burst out laughing, kneeling over in his chair, the alcohol obviously hitting him at this point. You let out a silent sigh and laugh alongside him, trying to ease the tension in your own brain.
“We're just saying how we might go on a short trip this week while we have it off,” Xeno replied, finishing his drink off and walking towards the kitchen to top it off. He never drank this much, must be because Stan is back.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, taking another hefty sip.
Stanley hadn’t moved.
When you finally looked at him, he was already looking at you.
Not laughing anymore.
“Careful,” he said, voice lower now, nodding toward your glass. “You’re gonna regret that in the morning.”
You huffed softly. “I think I already am.”
That earned a small smirk from him, but he never stopped looking at you.
From the kitchen, you heard the clink of glass. Xeno was taking his time.Too much time.
“You’ve been quiet,” Stanley added.
You shrugged, fingers tightening slightly around the stem of your glass. “Just thinking.”
“About earlier?” he asked.
Your breath caught.
Before you could answer, Xeno’s voice cut in, closer than you expected.
“Still thinking about it?” Xeno replied. Why would he bring it up so boldly?
You turned, and he was there now, leaning against the couch behind you, drink in hand, eyes on you in a way that made your stomach flip.
Neither of them were joking anymore.
You swallowed. “Maybe.”
A beat of silence.
Then Stanley exhaled a quiet laugh, but there was nothing light about it this time.
“‘Maybe’?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly. “That’s all we’re getting?”
Your grip tightened around your glass. “What do you want me to say?”
Xeno leaned in closer, you could almost feel his breath on your ear.
“Say what you were thinking,” he said calmly. “You’re not exactly subtle tonight.”
Heat rushed to your face. “I was zoning out—”
“Yeah,” Stanley cut in, leaning back in his chair, watching you like he already knew. “About us.”
Your head whipped towards Stanley, almost giving you whiplash.
“I- I wasn’t- ” you started but Stan had already leaned in, his lips wavering against yours.
“Say you don’t want this”
He said breathlessly. You could smell the beer off of him.
‘“I- I don’t- I mean…” you replied. You felt like your heart was going to explode. You were still holding your wine glass which was shaking in your hand.
Suddenly, Xeno was by your side, taking the glass from your hand and placing it on the table and nodding back to Stan.
“Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop right now” He said, putting his hand on your thigh.
“I- I do want this” you replied, mostly due to the confidence that the alcohol gave you.
Stan wasted no time, he leaned in fully, meeting your lips just like he did on the patio.
For a second, everything else dropped away.
The room, the noise, even the thoughts that had been racing through your head all night. It was just him.
And then awareness hit.
Xeno.
You pulled back slightly, breath uneven, your hand instinctively finding Stan’s arm to steady yourself.
“This is—” you started, but your voice faltered.
Too much. Not enough. You couldn’t even tell.
Stanley didn’t move far, his forehead almost resting against yours, his grip still firm on your thigh.
“Too much?” he asked quietly.
Before you could answer, Xeno shifted beside you, not interrupting, just… there.
“You can stop it,” Xeno said, voice calm, grounded. “If you want. We won't care”
He was observing, just like he did his experiments. He was sitting back against the table, whiskey still in his hand, with a shit eating grin on his face.
You looked between them, your chest rising and falling a little too fast.
“I don’t want to stop,” you admitted.
Silence.
Stanley’s mouth twitched into something softer, less teasing now. “Then don’t.”
You pulled forward, kissing Stan. Kissing him like Xeno wasn’t beside you, observing the two of you.
You lean back, your back flushed against the couch now and Stanley pressing against you, the grip on your thigh getting harder and harder by the second.
His hand made his way up under your shirt and on your chest, where you weren’t wearing a bra.
You gasped, pulling back. The action wasn't particularly erotic, but just the fact it was him made you shutter.
“We can stop if you want” said Stan, low enough for Xeno not to hear.
“No!” you exclaimed a little too loud. “No” you said lower, more confident. You didn’t want this to stop. This is all you've wanted for years and you know it. No one could make you happier than these two could.
Stan only smiled at this and dived back in. He began kissing you again. Softly, passionately, his hands remained under your shirt and on your thigh, but you couldn't help but be hyper aware of Xeno watching you two, sipping his fucking whiskey.
Stan pulled back and seemed hesitant.
“Do you.. want to go upstairs?” he asked. You looked at Xeno who was finishing his glass.
You smiled sweetly at Stan. “Yes. Yes I do” you replied, getting up as he let go of you.
You got off the couch, grabbing your glass and walking towards the kitchen. You opened another bottle of wine. Both men looked at you with a confused look.
“We were supposed to drink tonight, no?” You asked, smirking, pouring yourself another glass.
They looked at each other, grabbed their glasses and made their way to the kitchen. They each filled their glasses and you were all standing there, glasses full, waiting.
Stan was the first to make a move, he drank a bit, then started walking. You followed, and Xeno behind you.
On the walk up to Stan's bedroom you felt nauseous, whether it was from the wine or not, you felt like you were in a dream, floating.
As soon as you entered the room, Stan's hands were on you.
One of his hands was on your waist, the other still holding his glass.
You slowly backed up until you hit the bed, slowly sitting down, Stan following in suit.
Stan pulled back, placing his glass on the side table.
You felt the bed dip behind you, signalling that Xeno had sat down.
Stanley pulling away gave you a chance to take a drink. You locked eyes with him while taking a sip. They were hungry, passionate. You turned around to look at Xeno who was sipping his whiskey.
Stanley slowly took your drink out of your hand, putting it down next to his and pushed you back on the bed. Your back was flush against the bed and you were breathing heavily.
You could see Xeno out of the corner of your eye, in the same position, still sipping the whiskey.
You didn’t know what to expect. You were looking up at the ceiling when you felt Stanley's hands at the side of your hips, hooking into your pants. You gasped and looked down.
Stanley didn’t move. There was a beat of silence before you gave a nod of approval.
You felt him pull your pants down until they were down to your ankles. Then, Xeno came and started pulling your shirt up.
All of a sudden you were in your panties. You felt vulnerable. All of you on display for both of them to see.
You looked down again and Stan was pulling your panties down, exposing your cunt to the cold air.
You shuttered, the cold air being more aggressive than you thought.
Without a word, Stanley's mouth was on you.
You threw your head back and gasped. He felt so warm. This feeling enveloped you completely as you gripped the bedsheets.
His mouth felt ethereal. He ran circles around your clit, along with his continuous grasp on your thigh, you felt like you would explode.
You felt Xenos hand make his way to your cheek, cupping it ever so slightly.
You bit your lip and threw your head against the bed while Stan's movements became more calculated, much more methodical. Every swipe of his tongue was in the perfect place, just the right amount of pressure.
You were struggling, almost squishing his head between your thighs from the pleasure.
You opened your eyes and looked down. Stanley was completely into eating you out, completely mesmerised with your pussy.
You look up and see Xeno touching himself through his pants.
Stan's movements became quicker and you couldn't hold back. He was hitting every spot, every crevance, you were losing your mind.
“F-Fuck, Stan- I-I can’t… I’m gonna…”
Your cries were silenced with Stanley speeding up, ignoring your cries and pleads.
Your back arched off the bed, you saw white as you came. The feeling was foreign, no man has ever made you feel this way. Every other guy you’ve been with would half arse anything that wasn’t giving him pleasure. But not Stanley. This was a man starved, and he was going to eat until he was content. This was his meal.
You shook as you came down, breathing heavy.
“F-Fuck..” you huffed. You felt Stan's frame above you.
“Too much?” he asked.
You laughed in response, closing your eyes. Partially at the absurdity of the situation but also how good it made you feel.
You felt the shift.
Xeno had gotten up. You opened your eyes and he was in front of you, whiskey no longer in his hand. Stanley was now behind you.
Xeno pulled down his pants, freeing his obviously aching cock. You looked down at it and gasped.
“Fuck..” you whispered.
Without a word, he leaned down and kissed you. You put your arms around his neck, feeling him rub against you ever so slightly.
“You ready?” Xeno asked, composed as usual.
You bit your lip and nodded.
Xeno leaned into your ear. You could smell the whiskey off his breath and smell his usual cologne. It has never driven you more crazy than right now.
“We need words, sweetheart,” he whispered.
“Y-Yes..” You squeaked in response.
Xeno pulled back and you looked at him as he inched closer. That's when you felt it.
You threw your head back, meeting Stan's hand you didn't know was there.
“Oh…fuck…” you huffed out, grabbing the clostent thing to you which was Stan.
Xeno bottomed out and you heard him sigh.
Then it began.
He started drilling into you.
Relentless strokes, one after another.
Your tits were bouncing, your breath was hitching, you felt like a mess. Your body wasn't yours anymore. You had no control and you didn’t want it back either.
You opened your eyes ever so slightly and saw Stan, who had his eyes on you and Xeno, stroking himself.
Without a second thought you opened your mouth. Stanley caught this and inched closer. He stroked your cheek before running his hand down your neck, then inched himself until he was positioned right in front of your face.
You sucked and slurped until he was all the way in.
Xeno was still pounding into you, getting faster with every stroke, with his hands gripping your hips. You moaned against Stan's dick, evidently sending vibrations from the way Stan moaned.
The entire situation made your head spin, Stan's cock along with Xeno in you. It was so much, too much. You had never felt fuller in your life.
Xeno had his hand on your stomach holding you down. From the corner of your eyes, which were beginning to brim in tears, you saw him. Dishevealed, sweat running down his forehead to his chest, grunting was barely audible.
You couldn't handle much more.
Xeno was close and you could tell. His thrusts began to become sloppy, Stans also.
You were at your wits end. You stopped sucking Stan off, you could see him jerking himself off. You threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.
Xeno made a sound as he started shaking, signalling his release.
You felt him finish inside. That is what sent you over the edge. You arched your back, and gasped, letting out an embarrassing porn like moan. That's never happened before.
You heard Stan grunt as he also released, some of his seed getting on the side of your face.
The three of you sat there huffing, taking in the moment, no one saying a word.
Then, Stan opened the nightstand and pulled out wet wipes and wiped your face gently.
Xeno slowly pulled out, earning a grimace from you.
He made his way into the bathroom and started running a bath.
“Id say you want a bath after that," he said.
You huffed in response as Stanley made his way around to help you up.
As you tried to stand, you failed. Stanley, thankfully, caught you as you looked up at him with genuine surprise. He started laughing at you and your smile dropped as you frowned at him.
You entered the bath and the warm water was a god send. You smiled as you leaned back, your body was more sore than you anticipated. You furrowed your brows and opened your eyes.
The two men were just standing there, still naked looking at you. You looked between them.
“So… you just gonna’ watch me bathe?” You ask, lathering up a loofah.
They both scrambled.
“N-No, of course not, just wanted to make sure you got in okay” Xeno said, taking a dressing gown that was hanging on the door and making his way out. Stanley looked back at you and the two of you laughed as he followed in suit with Xeno…still naked.
You finished up in the bath, taking your time and replaying the evening in your head. You smiled as you dried yourself off, stealing one of Xenos robes. The night went better than you expected, and what you expected was nothing.
Never in a million years did you think this would happen, and so lovingly too.
You entered the room again to see Stan and Xeno finishing putting new sheets on the bed. You smiled at them both as you walked over, grabbing that drink from the nightstand Stanley had placed down earlier.
“How can you still drink?” Xeno asked, looking sideways at you.
“Hey, the night is still young!” you exclaimed. Stanley gave you a smirk and you waved him away.
“So.. what now?” Stanley asks, sitting on the bed.
There is a beat of silence, no one says anything.
“Oh! Stan! Me and Xeno watched this really good movie we wanted to show you when you came back.” You say.
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Y/N, I don’t think Stan wants to watch another movie about science.” Xeno says as he hypocritically picks up his own drink.
You all make your way out the door of Stan's room and towards the stairs.
“No! Remember we said that it has a lot of action he’d like” you reply.
“Okay, okay, let me see the trailer first.”
The conversation of what happened tonight can take place later, because you know, that now and for the rest of your lives, it will be the three of you, in one way or another.
Hi!!!! Apologies for the final part taking so long! In other news, I finished my computer science degree and your girl has graduated! Also, please go easy on me, this is my foirst time writing smut in a looooong time. Im planning to post more now that I have a break so please, if you have any recs send them my way!
Tag List: @unknown-y-person @verysanesenkufan
Would you attempt an a/b/o, with an Alpha!RylandxOmega!Reader. If not I understand, had to ask didn't see it on your Won't do list.
WOOWEE I am unsure about my knowledge on this but I wrote it anyway 😂 i've def read a/b/o stuff in the past and I feel like I did the lite version and it's just smut with like, extra nasty sex lmaooo thank you for sending this, it's really tickled my brain
Crisis Management ~ ryland grace x reader
2.8k words, smut, a/b/o, knotting, heat and rut
summary: you ran out of suppressants earlier than expected on the way to Erid, ryland helps you through your heat
---------------
It’s not like Stratt didn’t know. She knew, she assessed the risks, she sent you out with a supply of suppressants meant to last a few years, enough to get you to the end of your life on the Hail Mary, whenever you decided that would be. She didn’t, however, know that your body would process those suppressants a lot faster in space. Neither of you did, to be fair.
You’d been pumping through them pretty quickly, the bottom of your last bottle sneaking up on you, forcing you to reckon with your current predicament sooner than you hoped. The empty bottle was shoved to the back of your duffle bag with a prayer that it wouldn’t be so bad, that your first heat would pass easily, that Ryland would be none the wiser.
It was a useless prayer, of course, because you woke up with intense cramps and a need you knew you wouldn’t be able to satisfy on your own.
Your embarrassment was only starting, though, because eventually Ryland stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and a worried look on his face. “I read your file,” he murmurs, a hand coming up in defense when you whip around to look at him, “I’m sorry, but I didn’t have a choice. I could… smell you.”
You sigh, biting your lip as another wave of pain rolls through you. “Just lock me in here for a few days,” you manage, “I’ll be fine.” Your body language screams not fine, but that’s neither here nor there as far as you’re concerned. A whisper of your name grabs your attention, makes your skin prickle. “This is serious, how long have you been on suppressants?” His voice is low, betraying how stern he’s about to be.
You roll to your back, staring up at the ceiling. “At least, I don’t know, six years?”
“Six years?!” He’s mad, furious, even. “This is your first heat in six years?” His voice drops a little, the low timbre going straight to your core. You groan quietly, arms wrapping around your middle. “Can we crisis manage now and lecture me later?” You throw him a withering look, begging him to close the door and leave you to your misery.
He lets out a deep breath, hands coming up again, “can I come closer?” A quick nod from you, a quiet moan as his scent wafts over you, “sweetheart, you’re not going to be able to handle this one on your own.” He’s so gentle, like he’s approaching a cornered animal. Apt, you think with a shaky breath.
“This is the crisis management,” he whispers, kneeling in front of you. “We both know what’s happening, please let me help.” He places a hand on the bed, close but not touching, letting you decide how to proceed, giving you a choice in this.
You search his face, see the worry swirling around behind his glasses, see how he bites the inside of his cheek like he’s biting back more words that he knows aren’t going to be helpful in this moment. A deep breath doesn’t help, his scent filling your nose and turning your brain to mush.
Finally, you nod, watching the relief flood over his face as he gives you a small smile, an attempt at comfort. “It’s still early,” you mumble, “it’s going to get worse.” He nods, brows furrowing, “I know. Just tell me what you need, I’ll take care of you.”
The warmth in his words makes you shiver, your eyes closing in an attempt to ground yourself. “Keep Rocky out, please?” Another nod from him, “already taken care of. I’ll get snacks and water, do what you need to.” He brushes soft fingers over your hand, mouth pulling tight when your breath hitches at the contact.
He disappears for a few minutes, leaving you in the bunk room. It’s immediate, how you miss his scent and feel the need to nest. It overwhelms you, so you pull the patchwork quilt off of his bed, along with his pillows, and cocoon them around your own bed. You grab his sweater, wrapping it over your shoulders and burying yourself in the pile you’ve made.
When Ryland returns, he stops to take you in. Wrapped in his scent, snuggled into the warm sheets, you looked so soft. Your scent hits him full force, though, and he steels himself for a long week.
You reach for him, swallowing your pride long enough to ask for help. He drops the supplies he brought on the floor by the bed and crawls in beside you, wrapping his arms around you with a sigh. “Can I ask about it, before it gets bad?” His voice is quiet, it makes you shiver against him. “Yeah,” you whisper, burying your head into his shirt, letting him fill your senses.
“Why’d you hide it?” He strokes up your back, trying to offer any comfort he can. “Hide that I’m an omega?” You laugh bitterly, feeling how he squeezes you just a little. “Yeah, there’s no shame in it,” he mumbles, “doesn’t change anything, you’re still a brilliant engineer.”
“Stratt said something similar,” you sigh, “we thought she stocked enough suppressants.” He hums, “she wouldn’t have sent you if she didn’t trust you.” It rings true for both of you, Stratt only made the most calculated choices, only took risks that she was sure were worth it.
“Ryland, I’m sorry I’m putting you in this position, it’s not fair to you,” you whisper, pushing down a yawn. A big hand runs through your hair, shifting your head so he can see your face. “I’m here for you, whatever you need,” he cups your cheek, thumb swiping across your skin. “But you should know,” he takes a deep breath, looking wary of his next words, “you might trigger my rut.”
You nod, knowing that was a possibility, knowing that he hasn’t had one as long as you’ve been awake. “Whatever you need, too, then,” and you pull his hand to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm. He leans forward and kisses your forehead, his eyes fluttering shut. “Get some rest, you’re gonna need as much as you can,” he wraps you in his arms and holds you close, waiting until your breathing evens out before he lets himself sleep too.
—------
When you woke a few hours later, you were sweating through your clothes. Ryland was awake, he had thrown the blankets off of you at some point, feeling how warm you’d gotten. He pressed water into your hand immediately, deep voice telling you to drink.
You can’t help how you twist, needing contact with him but hating how hot everything feels. Like he can sense your struggle, he whispers, “hey, it’s okay, what do you need?” His hold loosens just a little, hands stroking over the worn knit of his sweater hanging off your frame. “‘S too hot,” you whine, “everything’s too hot.”
He sits up, pulling you up with him, and helps you shrug out of the cardigan. When you reach for the hem of your shirt, he turns away, trying to give you a little privacy. You shed your shirt and pants, groaning when the cool air hits your heated skin. Your scent fills the room, Ryland feels it crowding in on every side, smells how wet you are already.
The cramps are back in full force, you flop against the mattress and muffle a cry into your pillow. He’s there quickly, soothing touches on your arms and shoulders trying to help. When a shiver wracks your body and you choke out his name, he takes your hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers, “it’s okay, get what you need.” And he slides your hand down your body, pushing your fingertips under the waistband of your panties.
You whimper at the first touch against your core, biting back a cry when you circle your clit. Your hips jerk, legs spreading a little more to give you room. Ryland presses sweet kisses to your temple, strokes your hair with tender fingers.
A pained sigh leaves you when you dip down to swipe through your slick, your body clenching around nothing. You slide back up to your clit, picking up your pace with a cry. Ryland hums next to you, “smell so pretty, baby.” The words make you hot, you close your eyes with a whine. “Be a good omega for me,” he whispers, lips pressing to your cheek, “come.”
Your back arches as your orgasm rolls through you. Quiet moans leave your lips, your legs snapping shut, trapping your hand against your soaked core. He talks you through it, “good, baby, that’s it. Get it all out, I’m right here.” His voice dips lower, breath hitching when you shudder through the last of it.
“Doing so good, did that help?” He studies your face, seeming satisfied when you nod and look away bashfully. “Hey, none of that,” his hand cups your jaw, tilting your face back towards his, “don’t go getting shy on me. We’re still at the beginning of this, we’ve got a while to go.” He gives you a small smile, reaching for the hand still resting in your panties. He grips your wrist and pulls your hand to his mouth, sucking your fingers between his lips. His eyes roll back with a groan - he licks your skin clean, pressing kisses to your fingertips and palm before he lets you go.
You eat a snack, drink some more water, and roll over to be close to him again. The fabric of his shirt is rough against your cheek, you let out a small laugh and lean up to look at him. “Since you just watched that, can you at least take off your shirt?” He laughs with you, sitting up and throwing his shirt across the room. “Consider it gone.” And you let him tug you down for another nap.
—------------
The next time you wake up, it’s to an intense pain shooting out from your core, heat rolling through you in waves. Ryland’s asleep under you, face peaceful and chest rising slowly. You hate to wake him, so you roll to your other side and let your hand slide straight into your panties. No time is wasted, you circle your clit, moaning lightly at the contact.
This time feels different, though, and you can’t quite build your pleasure like you did before. You try your best, pressing two fingers into your waiting center and thrusting quickly. You rub at your clit, the pain setting in full force. A quiet cry of, “please, alpha,” falls from your lips and suddenly Ryland is there.
He rolls you to your back, his voice washing over you, cooling the fire that threatened to burn you alive. “I’m here, I’ve got you,” and he skims his fingers down your sides, planting kisses to your neck. He leans up to see your eyes, “can I kiss you?” Even now he’s still so worried about you. You nod quickly, hands burying in his hair and pulling him to you.
The kiss is intense, he licks into your mouth with a groan, the sound helping to ground you through the cramps. “Need your knot,” you breathe against him, swallowing down his whine. You beg again, feeling his resolve crack when you roll your hips against his. “Of course, sweet girl,” he whispers, “anything -” for you is how he wants to end that sentence, but he cuts himself off with a groan.
He pulls the rest of your clothes off, biting his way to your breasts, and sheds his pants easily. He takes a second to look, shoves his nose against your skin and breathes in deeply. It rips a growl from his throat, a needy, “fuck,” slipping out.
You’re getting desperate, the pain seeping in the longer he has his hands off of you. You squirm under him, legs wrapping around his hips to try to hurry him along. He realizes how long he’s made you wait, whispering his apologies and stroking his thick length quickly. You moan at the size of him, know he’s exactly what you need.
Ryland shoots you a reassuring smile and lines himself up, pressing in with a whimper and falling forward to kiss you deeply. He feels as thick as he looks, stretching your walls slowly as he works each inch in. He pauses when he’s half way in, kissing along your face and whispering soft praise. “Perfect for me, oh, my omega,” his forehead lands against yours, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.
You’re whining under him, practically begging for him to keep going, to give you what you so desperately need. “Ryland, please,” you cry, nails digging into his back, scratching red marks on his skin. He nods, panting heavily, and slides the rest of the way in. He bottoms out with a moan, drinking down your sounds as he kisses you again.
The first thrust punches the air out of you, your legs tightening around him in encouragement. “Oh, baby,” he praises, “needed this so bad, huh?” And then he’s moving. It’s fast, erratic slaps of his hips on yours. Wet squelches echo through the room, your slick dripping onto the sheets below you. “Look,” he commands, hand gripping your jaw and forcing you to look down at where you’re connected.
He’s huge, pumping into you in a show of strength, your slick coating his cock, his thighs, up to the light trail of hair dusting his lower stomach. You let out a moan, eyes flicking to his, your breath hitching when you find him already staring at you. “Like you were made for me,” he murmurs, biting your lip and watching it spring back. “Tell me whose pussy this is,” he drops his head to your neck, licking and sucking just below your ear.
In any other scenario, you would roll your eyes at the bravado of an alpha, but in this moment? You feel like your brain is melting. Your walls clench down on him, your eyes rolling back as a moan rips from your throat. You feel him smile against your neck, feel the little laugh he lets out at how affected you are. “It’s yours,” you whimper out, legs starting to shake.
“And who am I?” He murmurs right into your ear, biting your lobe. Heat floods your body, your core pulsing and back arching. “My alpha,” you cry, clawing at his back as your whole body convulses. He rewards you with a scratch of his teeth against the curve of your neck, biting lightly.
The pressure sends you tumbling over the edge. Your eyes screw shut, stars flashing behind your lids. His knot forms quickly, locking him in place as he shakes above you. He growls, grinding against you and drawing out your peak as long as you can take it. Finally he slows, lips seeking yours to feel all of your whimpers on his tongue.
He pulls away just enough to scan your face, searching for any remnants of pain. When he’s satisfied with your expression, he wraps his arms around you and rolls. His back lands against the wall, so he’s sitting up with you in his lap. You’re draped over his chest, your head cradled against his neck.
A deep breath tells you what you already knew, his rut has started. Soft hands stroke up your back, gentle lips press to your temple, a quiet voice whispers sweet praise. You think this might be heaven, here in Ryland’s arms, his knot filling you, every sense full of him.
He huffs out a small laugh, shaking you just a little. “I, uh - this knot might last a while, it’s been a long time for me too.” You laugh, breath hitching when he squeezes your thighs playfully.
You’re boneless on top of him, quietly answering his questions about the intensity of this heat (it’s high, of course), what you used to do on earth for it, how you convinced Stratt to let you on the mission.
“That one wasn’t me,” you smile against his shoulder. “She recruited me, told me that if I wanted in, I had it.” He’s quiet for a minute, you can hear the gears turning in his head. “She only wanted the most qualified,” he murmurs.
You shrug, “I think she’s got good judgement.” You push up to sit, both of you groaning when you shift, his knot pulsing at the friction. He kisses you, both hands holding your face. “I don’t know how long my heat’s gonna last,” you grimace, covering it with a laugh that he sees through instantly.
“We’ve got it,” he kisses your forehead, “we’re a great team.” When he presses his lips to yours again, you can’t help but smile.
