#( i feel like this is a little short and i should make a pt 2 of how insane siho is as an adult but im sleepy and i have work in 3 hours an

[dollfacefantasy]

IF I WAS A RICH GIRL PT.3 ♡

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson

summary: the events of last night leave an ugly mark on your relationship with jason that also bleeds over into your time with dick. will the three of you find a way to make things work? or will some other security firm have to take on your case?

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, angst, double penetration (p in v + anal), fingering, car sex, edging, hints of exhibitionism, light brat taming, arguments, mommy + daddy issues

wc: 19.3k (good heavens)

a/n: the rock (me) has finally come back to tumblr dot com. i hope you guys like this chapter!! it's dramatic as fuck, but isn't that the fun of fanfic. and thank you for all the love on this story!! i'll have the next one out soon-ish. peace and love, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

part 1 | part 2

When your eyes finally opened again, you found yourself alone in bed.

The room was bright now, and the TV had been turned off. It was quiet, no soft breaths coming from either side of you, no hushed voices chattering back and forth above your head.

You sat up slowly. Judging by the intensity of the sunlight outside, it was a little later in the morning than you’d usually wake up. That explained why your bedroom was vacant spare yourself.

Your hand came up to rub the sleep from your eyes. Flashes from a few hours ago flooded your mind. Jason’s hands around your throat. Dick’s quiet retelling of the past. The harsh words exchanged on the balcony through the biting winter air.

How had everything shifted so much in such a short span of time?

You dragged yourself from the comforts of your pillows and blankets and stumbled into the ensuite bathroom. Your movements came slower, less motivated, like your body was weighed down with the pain from the night before. It was weird. As you moved, you felt this weight in your chest. Some lighter form of mourning. One that came laced with a substantial dose of anxiety. You tried not to dwell on it while brushing your teeth.

It just didn’t make sense to you. How could someone that’d only been in your life for such a short amount of time leave you feeling so out of sorts? A month ago, you didn’t know Jason or Dick existed. You’d lived for years and years without them. Even having them around now, it wasn’t anything serious. It wasn’t as though they were your boyfriends. They were just supposed to be for fun. And like with all your other objects of entertainment; when you tired of them, you should be able to start looking for the next. Never before had you been this unsettled by the possibility of losing one — or technically two.

Though, it probably wasn’t fair to think about the whole issue as if it was a collective one. Dick hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, he’d made all the right decisions. He told you not to go down there, to just leave Jason to his own devices for the night. You just thought you knew better.

As soon as you’d spit in the sink for the final time, back to your bedroom you went. Your luxurious pajamas landed in the nearby hamper in exchange for a soft pair of sweats and an oversized shirt from your dresser. You weren’t going anywhere today. There was no reason to dress up. Normally, you’d try a little more for something cute, but with the mood you were in right now, flipping through random pieces of clothing to find something pretty and comfortable was the last thing you wanted to do.

With a huff, you exited your room and headed across the lofted walkway to the stairs. You could hear their voices coming from downstairs. They were muffled, hushed under the assumption you could wake and enter the room at any time.

You padded down the staircase. As soon as you stepped into the living room, you saw them in the kitchen at the counter. Dick was on one side, eyes laced with concern and his lips in a straight, displeased line. Jason stood on the other. His head hung down towards the marble.

Neither of them saw you right away.

For a few seconds, you considered going back upstairs. You weren’t really in the mood for talking things out or forgiveness of any kind. But Jason wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your bodyguard, and you were gonna have to be around him at some point or another unless he asked for a reassignment. You figured it would be best to just get it out of the way now, to avoid letting the tension mount into anything more.

So you headed further into the room. You dragged your feet a little, trying to make some noise that would alert them to the fact that you were there. The small scuffles didn’t pull them out of their conversation with each other though.

It wasn’t until you were a few paces behind Dick that Jason caught sight of you. Like an ashamed dog, his eyes lowered towards the countertop he was leaning against. His usual demeanor had seemingly vanished. It was weird. You didn’t know what you’d anticipated from him, but it wasn’t this.

Jason shying away clued Dick in to your presence. He turned around, and to your relief, he seemed the same as normal. His soft eyes and faint smile beckoned you closer despite the awkwardness from the guy standing a few feet from him.

You tentatively walked the rest of the way to them. Even though he tried being subtle, you noticed how his eyes fell to the base of your throat, clearly trying to see how visible the marks from Jason’s fingers had turned out to be.

If today was any of those that came before, you probably would have been all over him and then bound around the island to give Jason the same treatment. Arms would have snuck around waists, and your face would have squished against either of their chests. Maybe if you were lucky (which, with them, you always were) they’d be kind enough to part your legs and start your day off extra nice.

But today, your palms stayed flat on the cold countertop. Your feet remained planted on the ground below you. You didn’t say anything, not a joke to break the ice or an accusation to bring the conflict to a boiling point. Just nothing. Absolute silence permeated the kitchen, and you found your eyes mimicking Jason’s gaze at the sleek marble.

The invisible wall of ice that had formed around you was broken by Dick’s hand landing between your shoulder blades.

“There she is,” he said, ever the mediator. “You sleep ok?”

“Yeah,” you answered. Your voice came out quiet. Maybe the quietest you’d been over the course of their stay.

You could tell he was trying to take some of the weight from the two of you, but everything still felt so overwhelming. 

His hand started to move in tight circles on your back, easing some of the tension in your shoulders. But when one part of you calmed down, it seemed like your anxiety just targeted somewhere else. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you tried to will your eyes to look at Jason. It shouldn’t be that hard… It was just an argument. Not the end of the world. Your body couldn’t seem to accept that though.

“How are you feeling?” Dick asked next. His hand slipped around to your front, boosting your chin to give him a clear look at your neck.

“I’m ok,” you said and shrugged. 

You took a step back from him and shuffled over to the fridge. Normally, you ate up attention like that. Milking injuries had become almost a natural talent for you at this point in your life. You’d picked it up at eight years old when you sprained your ankle during a tennis lesson. You continued with it at fourteen when your driver got into a car accident on the way home from school that left you with a fractured wrist. And you’d stuck with it at eighteen when you’d tripped while walking into one of your father’s campaign events.

One of the only times your father felt a need to take your side was when he believed someone or something else had harmed his daughter. Playing up how victimized you felt never failed to get you attention. It just didn’t feel right in this case.

If anything, for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel that desperate need to be noticed. You’d much rather shrivel up and seep into the crevices between the floorboards. Any attention to the small markings circling your neck just brought you shame, and more so, they made you worry about Jason. If you felt embarrassed and guilty, you could only imagine how he was doing.

It was kind of odd. You couldn’t remember feeling so subdued about something like this ever before. You’d been allowed to quit tennis over your ankle. You’d cried and cried for weeks about how terrified you were because of the car accident. And you’d thrown a monumental fit over the falling incident. All without ever for a second questioning yourself.

You could still sense Dick’s concerned stare on your back as you popped open the large refrigerator and briefly scanned the shelves for something to eat. Nothing looked good today. You nudged the steel doors closed again.

A quiet sigh left your lips. You knew you should try saying something, but it just felt weird with Dick standing there, almost supervising you and Jason like two rowdy pups that couldn’t be left alone together. You were sure Jason had told him what happened. How honest he’d been was the real question, but Jason was so hard on himself, you doubted he’d try to paint himself in a better light by withholding details.

Your eyes flitted between them, deciding how you should broach the subject, or if you should broach it all. Would pretending everything was fine be better? Who should you even address? It would be awkward to just talk as if Dick wasn’t there, but what business of his was it how ugly Jason made you feel?

Seconds later, as if some divine force heard your internal gripes, Dick’s phone rang from upstairs.

“Damn,” he said, looking between the lofted walkway and the pair of you. He seemed reluctant to leave. “I’ll be right back.”

You tried not to look too relieved as he left the room. With a deep breath, you took the spot he’d been standing in. Right across from Jason.

He finally looked at you. His murky green eyes stared across the island into your own. Your heart skipped a couple beats. You had to swallow down the nausea creeping up on you.

“I hope you know I feel like shit about what I said…” he started quietly.

You couldn’t take it. You looked down at the counter again where your fingers fidgeted idly with one another.

“You don’t have to. I know you were really upset. I shouldn’t have intruded,” you said at a similar volume.

“That’s no excuse. I should have better control.”

“Everyone slips up now and then…” you said and shrugged. “We can just forget about the whole thing.”

For a moment, you found the courage to look at him once more. But it evaporated just as fast upon seeing his expression. He looked worse than before. Sadness had mixed in with his shame, and it made you feel like throwing up.

“Really,” you continued. “It’d probably be for the best if we just moved past it. I’m not gonna hold it against you or whatever.”

“You could if you wanted to. You haven’t had trouble calling me out for anything else. I’d deserve it,” he said.

The words hung between the two of you. This was obviously not “anything else.” This wasn’t him teasing you with an annoying nickname or insulting your choice of clothing. This was him calling you out with nearly psychic precision, striking each of your insecurities with shattering force.

You simply shook your head. “It’s fine. I’d really rather just forget about it,” you said.

The ceiling creaked overhead, presumably from Dick walking around while taking that call. You hoped it would last a while longer. For once you didn’t want anyone on your side. You didn’t want him playing mediator.

Jason seemed reluctant to accept your answer, but given you were the one hurting it wasn’t like he had room to argue.

“If that’s what you want…” he said. “But just… I didn’t mean what I said.”

Maybe if you were in a better mood you’d roll your eyes or laugh at that. If it wasn’t such a sensitive topic, if the words didn’t hurt just to recall, if they didn’t apply to you, maybe you would have been happy to call him on this too.

“Yeah you did,” you said. “But I don’t blame you for it.”

“I don’t want-”

“Please just let me move on from it,” you continued. “I don’t want things to be weird from now on just cause you said a couple things about me.”

“It wasn’t just a couple things. You don’t have to-” he tried, but you took a couple steps back now. 

It was too much. You were trying to be the opposite of how you normally would act. You were trying to be better. Why was he pushing back? It felt like there was no way to win.

“It was, and I’m ok, really. I’d rather just leave it in the past and forget. I’m a big girl. I can handle a few mean words,” you brushed off.

He stared at you with those sad, traumatized-pitbull eyes but didn’t say anything more. You headed back to the stairs, following your original plan of retreating to your room for the rest of the day. Maybe time would make this feel better. A few days would allow the pain to dull, and things could go back to normal.

Nearly a week went by, and unfortunately, you’d been wrong. Things had not gone back to normal.

They weren’t as bad as that first day. For that first twenty-four hours after, tension was built into the very walls of the penthouse. You stayed in your bedroom, only going downstairs in the evening to grab some food.

Dick lingered around. He so obviously wanted to check on you and make sure you were doing alright while you so obviously did not want to talk about anything related to the incident with Jason. You didn’t know what Jason got up to most of that day. He never came up to try and see you or anything. He respected your space like you hadn’t with him. That thought made you feel worse.

That night you dreamt about the two of them. It wasn’t a nightmare. You didn’t thrash around like Jason had the night before. There was no intense action or dire situations. Instead, it felt empty. You walked around a world inside your head where both of them had left you, where they had moved onto other cases and left you behind as nothing more than a memory.

Your eyes opened in the darkness of your room. You didn’t have a racing heart or a frantic mind. Rather a sense of melancholic dread rattled around inside your chest.

You decided then and there that you would make sure your dream stayed just that. It wouldn’t become real. They wouldn’t just serve the rest of their time on your case like some awkward prison sentence. You always got what you wanted, and this would be no exception.

So the next day and every day that came after that you changed your strategy.

The next day you went downstairs, dressed like you normally would. You kept your head held high and your shoulders back, and you acted as if Jason had never called you the poster-child for daddy issues.

Dick seemed willing to play along with you like usual. He didn’t acknowledge how upset you’d been, content to move on exactly like you had asked. In his eyes, there was no use prolonging the whole thing. It wasn’t like you and Jason had gone back to being at each other’s throats, so that was good enough for him.

On the other hand, Jason wasn’t as easy to satisfy. It wasn’t that he disapproved of the way you chose to handle yourself. He wasn’t out right mean to you or anything like that either. He simply became… distant.

And you fucking hated it. You’d honestly prefer him tearing into you to whatever weird awkward limbo the penthouse had settled into now.

When the three of you went places, he remained completely professional. His eyes watched everyone in the room but you. And at home he was the same. He kept to himself, stayed silent during meals spare a few comments here and there. He wouldn’t joke around with you like before, but he wouldn’t mock you either. He was just indifferent, and it was driving you fucking crazy.

Dick tried reassuring you that it was normal. You hadn’t done anything wrong, this was just how Jason could be some times. He was a private guy, and when something was bothering him, he kept it to himself until it went away or his frustration bubbled over.

You tried accepting it, but it was a difficult transition. Jason spent most of his free time up in the guest room you’d assigned him to on his first day. A tiny piece of your brain assumed it was only a matter of time until he packed up his things and left you to Dick alone. You could imagine it — just waking up to him being gone. His stuff cleared from his room, his motorcycle gone from the parking lot. Not a word of goodbye. An exit as quick as he entered, leaving no evidence that he was ever a part of your life.

The whole dilemma consumed your thoughts while you tried watching this movie with Dick. You sat against him with his arm around your shoulders, your foot bouncing on the floor while anxiety completely clouded your mind. The fact that you had seen this movie before wasn’t helping you focus any.

You looked up at him to check how he was faring but found his head tilted back against the soft cushion. His eyes had fallen shut while his breaths came out at a slow, steady rhythm.

Just to be sure, you nudged him once.

“Dick?” you whispered.

Still nothing.

Ever so carefully, you pulled away from his body. Half of you expected him to wake up at the feeling of movement or the sudden lack of warmth pressed to his side, but he didn’t. He stayed sound asleep as you retreated from the living room and headed towards the stairs.

You knew it probably wasn’t the smartest decision. Shouldn’t you have learned your lesson about chasing after Jason? But even if the events of that night repeated, it didn’t matter. Fighting would be better than constant, unending tension. That was what you told yourself anyways.

As you crept along the walkway, you didn’t hear anything coming from his room. You wondered if he was sleeping already. The lights were still on though. You could see a sliver shining from where the door was opened just a crack.

Upon peeking inside, you didn’t know what you expected to see. Whenever Jason was with you, he seemed to do things he knew would entertain you or occupy your attention. Right now though, in the solitary peace of the bedroom, you found him reading.

He was lying on his bed, one hand holding the book apart above his head. His eyes scanned the pages quietly until his other set of fingers came up to turn the page. You stood there for a few moments, contemplating whether or not you should interrupt. But your longing for him won out over the small ability to be considerate you possessed.

You pushed the door open another foot or two and rapped your knuckles on the frame. See, you were being better. Two weeks ago, you never would have knocked.

He looked away from the pages at the sound. Once he saw it came from you, he sat up, putting the book on his nightstand.

“Oh, you don’t have to…” you started, but really you wanted his full attention, so you stopped yourself short.

“It’s fine. Did you need something?” he said simply.

You stood there for a few moments, not knowing what to do. Because, yes, you did need something. You needed him to stop being so fucking stiff. You were about one monotonous reply away from crawling on your knees and begging for him to disrespect you like a normal person again.

“Um… I just wanted to see you,” you said instead. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Taking a leap of faith, you walked into the room a few paces. He didn’t tell you to get out or back up, so in your mind, that was a good sign.

“Yeah?” he said.

You nodded. “I feel like I haven’t seen you that much lately…” you continued.

A huff of what sounded like laughter came from his lips, yet he didn’t appear happy. “Well, I’m doing fine. Same as always, you know,” he shrugged.

“Are you? You don’t seem the same…” you said, walking even closer to his bed. “I just…”

You couldn’t get the words out. Every sentence you spoke felt like traversing a field of landmines.

“You just what?” he asked.

Your eyes fell to his blankets covering the mattress. Part of you had hoped that he would just understand what you were trying to say. That he would want things to go back to normal as badly as you did.

You sat down on the edge of his bed. Your first instinct was to get more confrontational. Dragging this out was painful. It would be so much easier to strike, to force him to tell you why he’d been acting this way, why he’d been punishing you for his own actions. But you knew that would only make things worse.

“It’s nothing. Nevermind…” you finally answered. “What were you reading?”

You were trying your hardest to appear unaffected. It wasn’t the best performance you’d ever given, but if he saw through it, he spared you the torture of saying something.

“Nothing special. Doubt it would be your taste.”

“How do you know? I like all kinds of things.”

“Do you even like to read?” he asked. 

“Oh come on,” you scoffed. “I’m not stupid if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

For the first time in days, a bit of his spark flickered back to life. 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say. It just doesn’t seem like something you’d enjoy doing. Reading takes patience. Something you don’t have a lot of.”

You knew he was joking, but it stung. The words sliced into you like fresh cuts on already wounded flesh. They were just another way he disapproved of you.

“I have the patience… I used to do it a lot more when I was younger, but if something interests me, then I’ll read it.”

Getting all sad probably wouldn’t help your case, so you tried remaining lighthearted. You didn’t want anything serving as a callback to the other night. If that meant shoving your feelings down and putting on the face you wanted him to see, you could. You’d had a lot of practice at that over the years.

You rolled your eyes and crawled closer to him. “Just tell me what you’re reading,” you said. 

Maybe you just had to take the first step. If you could entice him into playing along with you, that could repair things.

“Why are you so interested?” he said. He wasn’t moving away at all. That was good.

“I wouldn’t be if you weren’t being so secretive,” you replied.

The two of you stared each other down for a few seconds before you lunged for the nightstand. He sprung into action just as quickly. His arms looped around your waist, keeping you away from your target. For a split second, everything fell back into place.

You squirmed in his grasp, playfully wrestling him a little. He did it right back. The size advantage he had on you made it a quick struggle. In no time, you were flat on your back, pinned to the mattress with him above.

He gazed down at you, and he looked like the Jason you knew. There wasn’t any forced restraint or haunted resignation. His features relaxed, his eyes softened. All as he focused on you.

You opened your mouth to taunt him again but he beat you to it.

“Pet Sematary,” he answered. “Pretty basic.”

You grinned up at him, elated at his shift in attitude. And he actually smiled back at you. It wasn’t a big one, but it rarely was with Jason. If anything, it was the best case scenario for this situation, so you were more than pleased.

That was until his eyes drifted down. It was a natural movement, one he had done many times before while on top of you. But now his pupils didn’t catch on your collarbone or breasts. Instead, the marks on your throat brought them to a halt.

The little bruises from his fingers had almost healed by now. They were barely there, close to being completely faded. But that wasn’t good enough for him.

He brought one of his hands to your neck. His index finger traced over them, dragging across them as if playing connect the dots. That smile melted away in seconds.

You grabbed his hand, gently wrapping your fingers around his palm. “They don’t hurt,” you said softly.

“Doesn’t matter. They shouldn’t be there at all.”

“It was just an accident, Jason,” you said. Your voice had gone so quiet it was only a couple decibels louder than a whisper.

“One that never would have happened if I was doing my job,” he said. He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles before he let you go entirely and sat up.

You followed him upright. “Oh come on. This isn’t… It’s not like that,” you said. You were trying your hardest to be careful and not overstep again. “Even if you were being the absolute pinnacle of professionalism, that still could have happened.”

“It wouldn’t have,” he said.

“It could have. It’s not like you were distracted, so I got hurt or something. It was totally out of your control. There was nothing to protect me from there. You let your guard down because I let you. Because this isn’t like your other jobs. You couldn’t have done anything to stop this.”

He shook his head, dropping it into his hands for a moment. “I should have known better. Even if there’s nothing to protect you from, I shouldn’t be putting you in danger by letting you get so close to me.”

Without even thinking about it, you rose to your knees behind him. Your arms draped over his shoulders, and you slotted your head against his neck. You could feel his heart beating with your own against his back. Your eyes closed. You couldn’t help but think he might have been right in saying you were out of your depth the other night.

“Don’t say that,” you whispered with a few kisses to the back of his neck. “You pushing me away for the whole week feels worse than a few seconds of your hand on my throat.”

His fingers began to trace small lines up and down your forearm. “It was a few seconds then, but it could have been so much worse. It’s not worth the risk,” he said.

“Yes, you are,” you said, bordering on pleading. Your arms' grip grew tighter around him. “I miss you, Jason. And it’s so fucking stupid because you’re right here. I see you everyday. You’re only ever a few rooms away. But I miss you. You feel so far away, and I hate it.”

What you really hated was the fact that you could feel your throat starting to close up and tears stinging your eyes. In an attempt to keep them hidden, you squished your face against the back of his neck harder. It had been years since you had this much trouble hiding pain. The last time had to be almost a decade ago, some time during your teenage years.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. But he didn’t take it back. He didn’t pull you closer. He didn’t say anything that gave you the impression he’d be letting you in again any time soon.

“Don’t be,” you said, your voice cracking against your will. “Don’t be sorry, just be normal. Just be how you were. Just stop shutting me out.”

“I can’t. Hurting you fucks me up too, you know? I can’t do it again,” he said softly. He sighed and gently began to peel your arms off of him. “You’re a sweet girl. For all your attitude, you got a good heart buried in there somewhere. All that shit I gave you, it was just-”

“Wh-what?” you stuttered incredulously. A few tears leaked from your eyes simply because of how much they had widened. You wiped them away as quickly as you could. “What are you doing? Why are you talking like this is a break up or something? Like you’re trying to let me down gently?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to make you feel better, but-”

“Oh my god. You are. My bodyguard is dumping me,” you said and pulled back from him all on your own.

He looked at you, not in anger or satisfaction. If anything, he just looked tired.

“Call it what you want. I just want you to know that I didn’t mean that shit I said, and I don’t want you believing any of it. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” you repeated, your regular attitude clawing its way back to the surface. “So what? You’re just gonna ignore me for the rest of the time you’re here?”

“No. I’m gonna talk to Dick tomorrow about reassignment.”

Hearing that shattered what little you had left of your more demure facade. The words struck you like bullets. You got off the bed and onto your feet. Playing nice was bullshit if this is what it got you.

“Well go ahead then! Do whatever you want! Just leave like nothing ever happened! If you think I’m gonna beg you to stay here, you’re crazy!” you snapped.

He just stared at you, which only made you feel more pathetic. Here you were yet again, stamping your feet and trying to hold back tears over an argument. The only difference between then and now was he sat behind a desk instead of on the other side of a bed.

You didn’t wait for a response. Getting out was all that mattered. You turned on your heel and practically tore the door off its hinges as you left. It stayed ajar while you stormed down the remainder of the walkway. When you went into your own room, that door slammed firmly behind you.

The loud bang from upstairs snapped Dick awake. He came out of the haze of sleep immediately on edge when he realized you were no longer at his side.

After shutting the tv off and rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes, he headed up there. On the way past Jason’s room, he peered inside. All he got from him was a grim look and a shaking head. At least he could be sure nothing was seriously wrong now.

He headed the rest of the way to your room and slipped inside without a sound. It was quiet in there — dark spare the dim glow of your bedside lamp. He’d expected worse for some reason. You seething or in tears, pacing with some furniture knocked over or at least a couple pillows scattered around.

But you were just lying on your bed, completely still and silent. It was only when he got closer could he see that you were nearly vibrating with how upset you were.

“Hey, you disappeared on me,” he said while approaching the bed. He started off light, trying to get a read on just how bad your mood was. All the bickering he’d seen between you and Jason prior to this was just that — bickering. But the door slamming hadn’t sounded like the conclusion to a minor disagreement.

And you gave him no response, so he figured it was worse than whatever he thought.

He sat down on the side of the bed and leaned across to rub your shoulder. Your muscles were taut beneath your skin like a rubber band close to snapping. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Jason is a fucking asshole, that’s what,” you choked out.

That was all you really said about it to him for the rest of the night. You’d give little pieces here and there about how you hated Jason and you wished he’d just left you alone to begin with. He tried coaxing out the full story, but you wouldn’t budge.

He did all that he could — stayed with you until your body went lax and your cries decreased to occasional sniffles. You just needed some time to calm down, he assumed. Tomorrow you’d tell him what happened or he’d find out from Jason, and everything would work out.

However, the morning brought a different story than he’d hoped.

You slept in much later than usual. He figured it was half due to the exhausted state you left yourself in after being so upset and half due to the overcast weather outside. The sea of clouds blocking the sun left your bedroom doused in murky gray, much darker than usual.

Once you were up, he tried offering to take you out for some breakfast. He’d drive you anywhere you wanted to go. The two of you could even walk around after, maybe do something else until you had to get ready for the fundraiser you were attending in the evening. He thought it would be good. A distraction and a way of keeping you and Jason separated.

But all it got him in return was a glare.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Not in the mood. That’s ok. Do you-”

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me or like take me out to pity breakfast or whatever,” you interjected.

“Hey,” he said, more serious than he usually spoke. But he had to be. You had more bite in your voice than he’d heard so far. “It’s not like that. I’m doing anything out of pity, and you should know that.”

“Well that’s what it feels like. I can deal with being upset, you know. I don’t need you trying to handle it or distract me,” you huffed. You rose from your bed and began putting the pillows and blankets back into place with obvious irritation.

It was becoming clear to him that you were just in a pissy mood, and you were going to be difficult for the sake of it. Jason’s warning from that first day rang through his head again. Maybe his charm had reached its expiration date with you. But unlike Jason, he didn’t have a problem remaining cordial with you.

“Fine. If you need space, I’ll leave you alone,” he said as he began to back up towards the door.

Before he could leave, you asked one more thing. “Have you talked to Jason yet?”

His brow raised at the word yet. “No,” he replied.

“You should. He’s the one that could use handling,” you grumbled while walking towards the ensuite bathroom.

He just let you go without saying anything else. It was probably for the best that he did talk to Jason while you mellowed out some more.

“What did you do?” he asked as he entered Jason’s room without so much as a knock.

Jason, who had been in the middle of doing some sit ups on the ground next to the large windows, didn’t stop his reps upon Dick’s intrusion. He simply glanced over at him, unamused.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“You know what I’m talking about. Why is she so upset?”

Finally, he sat up for good. Though he didn’t seem eager to have the conversation. With a bitter laugh, he shook his head and stood up.

“She told you it was my fault?” he said.

Dick paused before shrugging. “In so many words.”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “She must be really pissed if she won’t even tell you the full story.”

“So you tell it to me.”

“There’s not much to tell. I told her I was sorry, said she was a nice girl, and told her I planned on asking you for reassignment,” he said before looking over directly at Dick. “So, I guess I’m asking now. I think I need to be moved to another case. What do you think?”

Dick rubbed his eyes. That would do it. Now it made perfect sense to him why you’d been so agitated. He sighed before making eye contact with Jason again.

“Is that really what you want?”

He nodded, expression hard and unfaltering.

“Alright… I’ll see what I can do. I’ll make a few calls tomorrow,” he said. “Are you leaving now? Or-”

“I’ll stay till you find me something else. Not like I’m in a rush. I don’t have much else to do,” he shrugged.

“You gonna come to that fundraiser tonight?”

“Might as well,” he replied.

Dick nodded. “Right… Well I’ll let you know when I work something out.”

That served as his parting statement to Jason. There wasn’t much else to discuss between the two of them. At least not right now.

He headed out, shutting the door behind him. From there, he didn’t know where to go. Technically he had his own room, but the penthouse had become a tangled web of tension. He felt like no place would bring refuge right now.

With a sigh, he headed in that direction anyways. He wasn’t happy about Jason’s decision for more reasons than he could articulate to either of you. Not only were you gonna be even more miserable when he actually left, but Dick didn’t want to see him go either. 

Jason kept things balanced around here. You and him bounced off each other, took out all your frustration towards life on one another. With him around, Dick could always be the good cop. He could forever be the one to take care of you, to fix things. He never had to deal with your attitude before this morning.

But he also didn’t want Jason to go because he knew what this was. He’d done it before. Most severely after that case went wrong, but whenever he made a mistake it seemed he couldn’t help retreating.

The same man who never turned down a fight, who talked more shit than anyone else he knew, fled at the first sign of someone wanting to get closer. Dick used to not understand, but he’d drawn conclusions over the years. No one could see the deep cracks along his surface if he ran before they ever got close enough to get a good look.

He flopped back on the bed, noticing how the mattress had less spring than the one in your room. It didn’t matter. It would be comfortable enough for him to relax until the three of you had to drive across town for the fundraiser later tonight. 

Maybe after that he could talk to Jason, try to convince him that this wasn’t something he needed to run from. If that didn’t work, maybe he’d talk to you about the importance of being able to let things go, that every rejection wasn’t a personal attack of the highest degree. Hell, maybe he could just get drunk enough at the fundraiser that the two of you would have to take care of him and come back together over that.

It didn’t matter. No option was gonna be fun, easy, or pleasant.

God, why couldn’t the two of you just go back to banging things out?

You spent most of the day in the bath. Hours went by with your body submerged in steaming, rose-scented water. It was hot enough to sting. Almost as if you believed the heat could kill the gross feeling of abandonment crawling all over you. 

Every time the water got cold, you’d refill the tub. Candle light flickered along the walls, painting the pale tiles in shadows. You watched them shift around in silence, not in the mood to occupy your attention with anything. It was too hard to focus. Everything seemed to remind you of your current dilemma, and the inability to distract yourself made you wish you hadn’t been so hard on Dick who probably would have been successful at relieving your stress.

Once you finally couldn’t stand the feeling of your water-logged skin anymore, you rose to your feet and pulled the drain. The water rushed away in an urgent spiral as you reached for a towel. The pale pink fluff dragged across every inch of your body. You shimmied it around yourself until there wasn’t a bead of water left to roll down your skin.

The rest of your routine came in that quiet, practiced way that seemed automatic. You applied a healthy coat of lotion all over, squirted a few different serums into your hands to work onto your face.

By the time you made it back to your bedroom, it was late afternoon. The sun was setting outside. From the lower angle, it cut through the clouds, painting your room a warm orange.

You still had a couple hours before that fundraiser. That stupid fucking fundraiser. Quite possibly the last place on Earth you wanted to go tonight. You couldn’t remember what charity it was for, let alone why your father was making you attend. He’d already won the election. What was the point of kissing ass now?

Staring at your phone, you tried to think of any excuse that could get you out of it. There had to be a way you could stay in and wallow instead of mingling with a bunch of walking bank accounts for the evening. Just one call feigning cramps or something…

It wasn’t worth it though, and you knew that. If you ditched this thing, you’d have to do something more torturous next week. You’d get a call from your mother about how much he did for you, how it disappointed him when you couldn’t be bothered to show some gratitude. 

When he expected you at something, you went. That was that. You dressed up all pretty, smiled for pictures, and tried to conceal your misery until you were allowed to slip away. At least now that you were older, you didn’t have to go home with them.

You walked over to your closet, running your fingertips along your options for a dress tonight. Your mother had sent you one like she did for all the events you attended with them. It was long, emerald green with off-the-shoulder sleeves. But like with all the gowns she sent you, it would stay hung up on the wardrobe door for the night.

Instead, you selected a dress that was to your liking. It was just as long as the other one but in sparkling silver. The straps were thin on your shoulders, and the waistline was snug around your figure.

You put on some makeup to match and styled your hair with a little more effort than you would on any other day. It was weird. As much as you hated things like this, you found yourself always trying your best with your appearance. No matter how many you went to, you never fully understood your own motivation. 

Part of you thought it was a way of proving something, showing off to them that you were still at the top of your game no matter what bullshit they threw at you. Another part believed it might be petty. Your mother, for all the years she treated you as competition, could now live with the fact that you were beating her each and every time.

Or then again, sometimes you believed you just liked looking nice. Who was to say?

When you had finished assembling your look, it was almost time to go. The bright orange sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, and the skyscrapers had all lit up in its place. You rose to your feet and slipped on some pumps to go with your dress before heading out of your bedroom for the first time today.

You could hear one of them downstairs in the kitchen. Dick or Jason, you couldn’t really tell. The sounds weren’t distinct enough to make a real guess. You honestly couldn’t say who you’d prefer it be right now. Both would be awkward.

It didn’t matter though. You’d have to face them both before leaving anyways. You headed downstairs and towards the kitchen quietly. Upon getting closer, you saw Dick. He stood there in a crisp black suit, fixing his tie. Even if you were in a shitty mood, you couldn’t come close to denying that he looked good.

Once he heard the click of your heels entering the room, he looked up. He seemed to have a similar reaction to your outfit. His pupils raked downward over the length of your dress before returning to your face.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft. It made you feel like total shit. You could snap at him for no reason, and he’d still talk to you as if you were the most precious person on Earth.

“Hey…” you said back.

“You look beautiful. That dress-” he said with a playful whistle, “-good choice.”

“Thank you,” you replied, looking down at the sparkles sewn into the fabric.

The prospect of apologizing for earlier popped into your head, but before you could act on it, another voice interjected.

“Ready to go?” Jason asked.

The deep timbre of his words pulled you around to finally face him. You tried to hide your reaction as best you could; though, he probably saw the way your eyes widened based on the smirk that appeared across his lips. 

Like Dick, Jason wore a dark suit. Only with him, it was much more jarring to you. Dick looked almost natural in nicer clothes. They went right along with his pretty hair and picture-perfect smile. But before this very moment, you’d never even imagined Jason in clothes other than the plain shirts and pants he normally wore.

His shoulders were so broad and his arms so thick that part of you would have thought a suit would look comical on him. But that clearly wasn’t the case as he stood before you now, dressed in fabrics tailored to him exactly.

“See something you like?” he asked. He stepped in your direction before slowly doing a 360, mocking the way you’d shown off to him time and time again.

“I’m looking at you, aren’t I? So obviously not,” you said flatly, looking away before you embarrassed yourself further.

“Ouch, that hurts, you know,” he said, unable to hide his amusement as he feigned a wince.

“Why are you even coming? Don’t you have some place better to be yet?”

“I didn’t know you were so eager to see me go,” he taunted. “But not yet. Plus, I don’t want to miss one of my last chances to enjoy the pleasure of your company.”

Your expression grew more irritated, but before things could get any worse, Dick’s hand landed on the small of your back.

“Let’s head out if we’re all ready to go,” he said.

Reluctantly, you nodded. You shuffled towards the exit of the penthouse, grabbing your clutch off the side table on your way there. 

Just a few hours. You could get through this.

Your hand shielded your eyes from the few flashing lights that shrouded the entrance of this place. It wasn’t a swarm by any means, just a few photographers here and there from local papers. Definitely not the largest crowd you’d seen before the doors of an event you were dragged to.

Not far behind, you could hear Dick handling the valet and Jason shutting the back door. You didn’t bother waiting for them. You made your way up the stone steps to the doors of the hotel without stopping for a single picture.

A hand slipped around the crux of your elbow as you got closer to the large glass front. You didn’t have to look to know it was Dick. While his and Jason’s hands weren’t that much different physically, their touch was like night and day. The way they grabbed and handled and held alone was enough for you to separate the two.

“Something wrong?” you asked quietly.

“I should be asking you that with the way you bolted,” Dick replied at the same volume.

You took a brief pause from walking to look over your shoulder at him. A few paces back from him, you spotted Jason lagging behind a bit, keeping clearly intentional distance between him and you.

“I’m fine. I’m just not in the mood for pictures or any of that,” you said.

“I get it. I just couldn’t have you getting so far ahead. I don’t know if they’ll let us into this place without you,” he joked.

“They’d be doing you a favor,” you sighed before resuming your walk, albeit at a slower pace.

You kept it slow enough that Jason was forced to catch up to you or risk looking out of place. He came to follow at your other side while the three of you strolled through the open entryway.

It led into a foyer of sorts. One with sleek marble floors and a trio of ornate chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. Staircases and elevators led to other floors of the building, but you knew the luxury event hall was just further along on this level.

You didn’t speak a word while walking down a spacious hall. It didn’t take long to reach the room you were looking for. It was one of the first ones to your left.

The door was propped open, giving you a preview of your night. A warm glow doused the room. Tables took up most of the space, and there was a bar off to the side. Patrons meandered about, drinks in hand while they talked to one another. Wordless music drifted out from inside, loud enough to provide a background to conversations without overtaking them.

Without trying to give away how much you dreaded this whole thing, you stepped forward. You tugged your arm free of Dick’s hold before heading in further at the pace of someone wading shark infested waters. 

At first, you didn’t recognize around half of the guests. They could have been out-of-state invites or some of the foundation’s employees. Maybe they were just people in this city whose circles you never had the pleasure of mixing with.

But as you got deeper into the room, familiar faces started sprouting up like weeds. You saw a handful of his associates along with their spawn littered throughout the place. A couple of them waved to you. They smiled at you with the manufactured joy of people you were forced to socialize with during adolescence. You offered a fake smile back though and gave them a lazy flick of your wrist as acknowledgement. 

Dick and Jason weren’t talking at all. They offered no distractions or relief from this crowd. You ended up glancing in their directions once or twice to make sure they were still there. Of course, they were. Dick was watching the place, observing the other people here with thoughtful eyes. Jason was also focused on them, but for a visibly different reason. Disdain oozed from his very being. He didn’t hide the fact that he loathed these people like you did. A sliver of you wondered if any of that judgement rubbed off onto his perception of you. As if it wasn’t tarnished enough already.

All you wanted was to find an open table. Most of them were occupied by a couple of people or had drinks scattered on top of them, marking that someone had already claimed part of it. You wanted one that offered the largest chance at no talking.

You thought you spotted one over towards the wall opposite the bar. Just as you were about to dash for it, you noticed the group standing a few feet from it. They were a collection of a suits with dresses attached to their arms, but only one pair shot a wave of nausea into you. Your mother and father in all their glitzy, artificial glory.

Before you could escape to the bar or hide in the bathroom, he had his sights on you. He called out to you in that tone that naturally boomed across the distance. You wished you could dissolve into the floor. Or, at the very least, collapse and have to be carted away from them off to the hospital.

They were the people you most wanted to avoid speaking to unless it was completely necessary, the two individuals that were absolutely guaranteed to make your mood worse, so of course, you’d spot them right away. And of course, they’d drag you into a conversation you wanted no part of.

Your mother started gesturing you over along with him. You forced your feet to move step by step in their direction. The fake smile didn’t find its way to your lips this time.

On the bright side of things, your father had all but dismissed the other men he’d been talking to by the time you approached him. That was for the best for both of you. With the mood you were in, you weren’t confident in your ability to bullshit smalltalk with his colleagues.

You could barely stand the hug he pulled you into. Pressed against his side, you mumbled out “Hi, dad.”

He smiled down at you as he let you stand straight again. “You’re late,” he said. “I almost thought we’d missed you or something.”

“No… there was just traffic,” you replied, smoothing your dress out a bit.

“That’s why I offered to send you a driver for tonight.”

His hand came out to gently pinch at the flesh of your cheek. You couldn’t turn your head away fast enough. It was more humiliating than normal. Jason and Dick were right there. You didn’t want to sound petulant, but the entire display made you look like a spoiled child.

“A different person driving the car wouldn’t have made the traffic clear up any faster,” you said.

He chuckled before sighing, making a show of your denial for the rest of your little group. “You keep growing up, but I can always count on that attitude never changing.”

You gritted your teeth to stifle down the response you might have given if there wasn’t a crowd of strangers around. Instead, you focused your attention on your mother, offering a wave in her direction.

She reached out for you, her hands smoothing over your shoulders and down your arms in place of a verbal hello.

“You didn’t like the dress I picked for you?” she asked.

“It was fine. I just wanted to wear this one tonight.”

She just hummed and raised her brows. Calculated indifference. A weapon in her arsenal she used against you often. You fucking hated it but wished you could wield it in your own right just as much. That was one thing you hadn’t gotten from her. The ability to detach with total ease. To ice everyone out and leave them still so desperate to be let back in again.

Useful attributes like those had skipped you right over. You’d inherited her eyes and figure, her volatile emotions and apparent need to handle everything in the most dramatic fashion possible. The small part of you that always felt spited, neglected, looked over — you were convinced it came from her as well, either in the form of genetics or learned behavior.

She was everything you loathed about yourself in the form of someone else. She was the future you didn’t want, a walking ghost of a past you got to live in right now.

You stared at this older, sadder version of yourself for a few more seconds before she did you the favor of looking towards the men behind you.

“Who are your friends, sweetheart?”

“They’re not friends. They’re the bodyguards dad hired,” you said flatly. You weren’t in the mood and she wasn’t worth a more accurate label. You glanced back at them one at a time. “This is Dick, and that’s Jason.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jason said, formal as ever. He stuck out his hand and shook hers.

Then Dick swooped in with his own hand, a smile already on his face. “It really is,” he said.

You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. The prince charming thing was cute when he was doing it to you. Not your mother.

She looked him up and down, a faint smile on her lips. “You’ll have to forgive my mistake. Neither my husband nor my daughter keep me in the loop with these kinds of things,” she said.

You could feel your blood pressure rising by the second.

“Because they’re just precautionary. They don’t actually do anything,” you said.

Your father cut you off. “Don’t be disrespectful. They do what I ask of them. They keep you safe. They keep you out of trouble.”

They keep you controlled. That was the final statement that went unspoken. Not that you minded. It wasn’t close to being true. You could only imagine the conniption fit he’d have if he caught wind of the fact that he’d basically been paying them to rearrange your insides on the daily for the past several weeks.

His attention landed specifically on Jason next. “I don’t think we’ve met face-to-face before. It’s nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand for a shake.

And Jason reciprocated without falter. “Likewise, sir,” he said.

Sir. You actually laughed. Jason could call you whatever he wanted but at least you had enough of a spine to not feign respect for people you could barely stand.

“Don’t feel too bad about it. He’s gonna be leaving soon anyways,” you said, trying to mask the bitterness lacing your tone.

That got everyone’s eyes on you. Your mother and father looked skeptical while Jason was almost glaring. Dick seemed concerned, but you were too irritated to care at this point.

“Is that so?” your father said, his eyes shifting from your direction back to Jason. “That’s a shame, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’s run someone off.”

“Dad-”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” Jason said before you had the chance to snap. “She’s been a peach. There’s just another case that requires my attention.”

You wondered why he was even bothering with a lie. “Yeah. I didn’t run him off. He’s choosing to walk away,” you subtly shot at Jason.

Completely ignoring your comment, your father continued. “Well you’d be welcome back any time. Around my building or at some of our events. Even if she ever needed anyone again. I mean really, you’ve done such a good job with her. She’s mellowed out over the years, but by now, I usually would have gotten some kind of complaint.”

The words chipped at you bit by bit. Maybe if you didn’t resent him so much it wouldn’t have mattered. His remarks would feel like the playful ribbing he wanted them to sound like. They wouldn’t serve as bitter reminders of the image he painted of you, of how he took all of your bad decisions and shitty ways of handling things and made them who you were.

After taking a sip from her champagne glass, your mom looked at Jason too. “You two must have the patience of saints. The next time I go out of the country, I’ll have to get your number from my husband.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh please, mother. He barely tolerated me. I doubt he’ll want to be around either of the people who made me this way.”

And suddenly, it was awkward. Suddenly, they were all looking at you again, but this time with something close to pity. You couldn’t fucking take it. They could talk about you like you weren’t there, even shake hands over it for god’s sake, but you saying something in the same vein was too far apparently.

With a roll of your eyes, you mumbled, “I’m thirsty. I’m gonna go get a drink,” and then wasted no time before turning on your heel and walking off.

The heat of humiliation sweltered around your head like a monsoon cloud. It was a distant feeling, but familiar all the same. You didn’t understand it — why they stabbed at your insecurities so openly, why you reacted the same way after all these years.

You’d nearly reached the bar when a hand clasped around your bicep, stopping you in your tracks. Your head whipped around, ready to annihilate whoever was interfering with your escape plan.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Dick said softly. “You took off so fast. I just wanted to check on you, make sure you’re alright.”

He stood there with his worried expression and eyes full of the desire to help. Any other day you might have collapsed into his arms right then and there, desperate for him to make it better. But tonight your inflamed sense of rejection had control of the wheel.

“I’m fine,” you said.

“You don’t look it.”

“Well I am.”

He hesitated for a moment but persisted. Even with the groups of people scattered all around you, talking and moving about, he was determined to not let you slip away.

“You can tell me. We can talk about ‘real stuff,’ remember? I’m not trying to-” he started.

“There’s nothing to tell. I just can’t take them with their fake bullshit, and I can’t fucking take Jason going right along with it. That’s it.”

“That’s not nothing,” he said. “And I don’t blame you. I’m not gonna-”

“Look, I don’t need your help, Dick,” you said, quiet enough not to draw further attention. “I don’t need you to try and tell me it’s ok or that I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t need you to look at me like I’m some kind of broken Barbie doll for you to fix. This-” you gestured wildly at yourself, “-is just who I am, ok? I don’t need you making me feel like I’m any better.”

He didn’t try reaching for you again. You couldn’t blame him in the slightest, yet part of you still felt disappointed as his expression lost its persistence. Without physically moving at all, he retreated, pulled away from you and rescinded the lifesaver he’d thrown your way.

Your eyes stung as you turned around and stalked the rest of the way to the bar. This whole thing was spiraling so far out of proportion, and you just couldn’t get a handle on it. You quietly ordered yourself a drink, something strong enough to take the edge off. Something that could loosen you up and make you less likely to lose it on the next person who spoke to you.

Jason stood against the wall, watching as Dick came skulking back like a dog with his tail between his legs. He’d managed to drift away from your parents pretty easily after you stomped off. The area he was in now was relatively uncrowded. A couple of tables kept it blocked off enough that no one accidentally wandered over.

Dick came to lean next to him, his eyes still out on the main part of the room, intentionally avoiding your silhouette at the bar.

“She didn’t wanna talk,” he said flatly.

“Of course she didn’t,” Jason shrugged.

Dick sighed. He glanced at Jason for a moment, taking in his nonchalance towards your little episode.

“I know she gets on your nerves, but I think she’s really upset. I don’t think this is for attention or to cause a scene,” he said.

But Jason didn’t relent at all. “I’m sure she is. But she’s a big girl. If she wants help, she can ask for it. She can do more than stomp off like a teenager who got grounded.”

The conversation could have died there. In a way, Jason was right, and Dick knew it. You could communicate better. You could actually handle things like you claimed you had the ability to instead of sulking and avoiding. But he also knew it was a double-edged sword. Jason wasn’t the best at communication either. Trying to get the two of you to work together was like expecting brick walls to close the gap in an alleyway.

After a few minutes of silence, Dick tried again.

“Even if I don’t find you a case by tomorrow, I think you should leave, man,” he said quietly.

Jason turned his head, looking him in the eyes. “You’re kicking me out?” he asked, almost mocking.

Without a trace of humor, Dick nodded. “If that’s how you wanna take it, then yeah, I guess I am. Hanging around isn’t good for either of you. It drives you crazy, and it makes her sad. And I don’t want to be the one dealing with it all the time either, so I think if you’re done with her, you should just go.”

Despite the chatter of conversation and the hum of music all around them, the room felt silent for a moment. A shadow seemed to cast over Jason. His arms crossed over his chest and his gaze went back to the other part of the room. Some part of what Dick said had bothered him.

“I’ll try talking to her,” he finally said. “But if she throws a fit, then I’ll be done.”

For the first time in a while, Jason’s choice surprised Dick. He nodded, wanting to offer encouragement but fearing if he gave too much support, Jason would change his mind.

He took a breath before pushing off the wall and heading in that general direction. Dick watched from the same spot, silently hoping this wouldn’t end in a screaming match or security having to separate the two of you. You had seemed pretty upset when he went after you, but he wasn’t the one who’d done the damage. His comfort couldn’t heal your wound as easily.

His hopes didn’t go anywhere though because about halfway to the bar, Jason turned back to him with a perplexed look. He said something, but Dick couldn’t hear. He followed in that direction, allowing his ears to pick up the message the second time.

“She’s not over there.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, instantly looking for himself.

Sure enough, you were nowhere to be found. Dick brushed past Jason to get closer, his mind snapping into work-mode without missing a beat. He scanned the whole area, the surrounding crowd and the spots behind taller patrons. Still nothing.

“Fuck,” Dick said and rubbed his face.

“She’s probably still here,” Jason said. “It hasn’t been that long. She couldn’t have gotten too far away.”

Dick nodded. This wasn’t a matter of life or death. It wasn’t like other cases where losing sight of a client could mean the next time they saw you you’d be on the floor in a pool of blood or photographed in the paper after being found in a river. Rather, this was a question of whether or not next week they’d still be employed. Whether or not their firm would be able to find work in this city for much longer. Your parents had been singing their praises only minutes ago, but he could only imagine how fast that would change if you got into some sort of trouble. 

He could see it going wrong in so many ways. Different scenarios flashed through his mind like warnings. He could just imagine you wreaking drunken havoc out in the lobby. He could picture you picking up his car from the valet, taking it on a joy ride around town till you crashed into something.

His eyes swept the room one more time. He checked to be sure you weren’t moping around the edges or slumped over at a table anywhere. Once he was sure you’d left this room at the very least, he waved towards the door.

“Let’s check out there before we start thinking of any other place,” he said.

Jason went along without protest.

The two of them left the banquet hall and headed back down the hallway they’d come. They eyed each group meandering throughout, but you still weren’t there.

They reached the lobby. Luckily, you weren’t at the front desk having a meltdown. You weren’t around any of the other guests entering the main doors. You weren’t collapsed on the stairs. Dick was about ready to accept that you’d left when Jason broke him from his thoughts.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Dick’s head snapped in Jason’s direction before following his eyeline to a large pillar near the set of  elevators. Finally, you were in view. Your back was pressed to the marble, some guy leaning into your bubble. His laminated ID dangled between your bodies. Your fingers toyed with the hem of his tie.

Jason sounded and looked actually pissed. Dick knew he probably shouldn’t be the one to handle it if they didn’t want to cause a scene. But before he could suggest anything else, Jason was talking.

“Go get the car. I’ll be out there with her in a couple of minutes.”

“Jason, don’t-”

“Don’t worry, dad. I’m just gonna talk to her. Like you said,” he said. Though his expression gave the impression that a civil conversation was the last thing on his mind.

But he was already stalking over to the two of you, so Dick figured having the escape route ready was the best case scenario at this point.

As you twirled this guy’s crimson tie around your index finger, you also came to the realization that you had no idea what you were doing.

He’d been next to you at the bar when you threw back the shot you’d ordered. It took a second, but you recognized him after a moment of staring. You hadn’t seen him in years, not since your second semester of college. He hadn’t changed much since then. A different haircut, a nicer outfit, but he was still the same guy who’d come over at any time of night if you sent him a text about needing to have some fun.

And you needed some fun right now. You needed a distraction, and the way he was looking you up and down in return told you he was willing to to be one for the next couple of hours.

It didn’t take much to coax him away with you. A gentle touch of your hand upon his forearm, a lip bite, and a couple of innuendo-ridden statements about catching up and taking a trip down memory lane, and he was following you out like a dog on a leash. 

Men at these things were easy, and he was no exception. They wanted everyone to think they were so smart, so respectable, but they treated it as barely a step above a bar. At the end of the day, it was a place to find a hookup for the night before they headed back to the capitol or another event in the morning.

He was staying a couple blocks away at a more budget-friendly hotel. According to his ID and the facts he’d eagerly shared about himself, he was chief of staff for a representative also in attendance at the fundraiser.

You stood against the wall now, looking up at him. He’d called an uber, and now it was just a waiting game. Enough time for you to either double down or regret your mistake before you’d even made it.

Neither came to pass. Jason appeared beside you and your suitor faster than you could get away.

“There you are. I thought I’d lost you,” he said. His voice sounded lighthearted, but upon looking in his eyes, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“If only,” you shot back with a false smile.

“You know, if you wanted some attention, you’d only have to ask Dick,” he mocked. “There’s no need for the disappearing act.”

You stared at him with pure hatred — something much stronger than your normal annoyed side eye — as if you could will him away with the intensity of your anger alone. The guy who’d been so interested in you only seconds ago stood up straight.

“Who is this?” he asked, glancing between you and Jason.

“He’s no one,” you answered.

He looked at you with suspicion. That answer wasn’t gonna satisfy him. Not when the no one in question was someone like Jason. Someone who stood at least six inches taller and weighed a minimum fifty pounds heavier.

A few seconds passed before he fully turned to Jason. “Look, man, if you’re her boyfriend, she didn’t tell me anything about that. I’m sorry-”

“He’s not my boyfriend. He works for my dad-” you tried to cut in.

“I’m her bodyguard. But I do have some advice, kid,” he said, eyes flitting down to the badge hanging from his neck. “Consider this a favor. If you want any kind of job in Washington, banging a senator’s daughter when she’s got a few drinks in her probably isn’t the best way to go.”

“I didn’t-” you started but he already had a response.

“Maybe I should leave you two to work things out…” he said, clearly not wanting to deal with all of your drama.

“No! You don’t have to-” you tried.

But Jason smiled at him and ended the conversation with two words. “Great idea.”

Your old “friend” slipped back several feet, tapping the screen on his phone, if you had to guess, to cancel the ride. You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t even give you a wave goodbye before fading into the background with some other group of people.

Your attention snapped back to Jason, a glare already settled in your eyes. “I’m not drunk. I didn’t have that much to drink.”

“Then why are you acting like this?” he said, somewhere between taunting and serious.

“Oh fuck off! What? Are you jealous? You already told me you didn’t want anything to do with me!” you said, loud enough that a few people nearby looked your way. You went to swat at his chest, but he caught your wrist with ease.

He stepped closer, almost assuming the position that the other guy had vacated. “That’s not what I said,” he said, voice lowered. “And despite what you may think, I care about you. I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret or getting hurt just because you’re upset with me.”

“Give me a fucking break,” you scoffed. “You have no right. It’s not your job to stop me from making decisions you don’t approve of.”

“This isn’t about what I approve of. I’m getting paid to keep you out of trouble, so that’s what I’m doing.”

“Hm. It wasn’t considered trouble when you were the one getting to fuck me,” you said.

That touched a nerve. The air went cold around the two of you. Nearby crowds faded further into the backdrop. You stared at each other as if it was a contest with survival on the line.

Your wrist was still in his grasp, his strong fingers wrapped around your limb tight. You couldn’t just walk away even if you wanted to. But honestly, you didn’t want to. This hurt in the best kind of way. This was what you were used to, lashing out, tearing into another person and then letting them rip you to shreds right back.

Tension stirred between you both hot enough to create an electrical charge. You swallowed hard, waiting to see what he would do next. It was his move in this little game. His eyes stayed on you, pensive as he contemplated how to proceed.

“Look. I understand that you’re pissed at me, but you’re embarrassing yourself. You didn’t want to sleep with that guy. You wanted to make us feel bad or make yourself feel bad or I don’t even know. But it’s enough. You’re acting like a kid who got her favorite toy taken away,” he said quietly.

You could tell he was trying his best to stay cool, but his words had the opposite effect on you. He had hit the bullseye with that one. That ache in your chest grew more intense, strong enough to push a fresh wave of tears up into your eyes. 

“How dare you. You think you’re the toy? That’s rich,” you spat bitterly.

His brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he said.

You tugged your wrist away hard to get free, but you didn’t go anywhere. You stepped forward, closing the minuscule amount of distance left between the two of you.

“You used me, Jason. You played with me until you got bored,” you choked out. “You didn’t have a problem being around me when I let you fuck me whenever you felt like it, but the second I wanted a little more, you just threw me away.”

“That’s not true,” he said, not even taking a moment to consider. It was an immediate defense.

“It’s not? Really? You know it is,” you seethed. “You try to act like you’re so much better than me, like I’m so pathetic, but you’re just as bad. You’re pathetic. You protect people for a living, but really, you watch out for yourself. You take what you want from people, and then leave when it gets hard for you.”

“Really?” he hissed. As if the two of you were magnetized, he seemed to be drifting further into your personal space with every moment that passed. The only thing keeping him quiet was the potential of causing a public scene. “That’s what you think? That I take? That I don’t care?” he asked.

“I know you don’t,” you said, simple and petulant but with enough force to wound.

Quicker than you could blink, the hand that was on your wrist pulled hard and began dragging you to the hotel’s front exit. You stumbled along behind Jason. For the sake of your dignity, you put on a show of resisting a little. 

He didn’t even seem to register it. The two of you continued through the lobby without incident. Attendants stood near the doors, saying goodbye and helping guests with luggage. Their customer-service smiles faltered as Jason blew by with you in tow. The look on his face was enough to ward off any goodnights from anyone.

You nearly tripped as he brought you onto the stone steps out front. The front of your heel snagged on a door stopper, but his strong grip was enough to keep you upright.

“Jason!” you scolded. “Slow down! I wanna avoid face planting and breaking my nose if possible.”

“Keep up then. You didn’t have any problem being fast when you were trying to run off with that little prick,” he said.

Thunder clapped in the sky above. It had started pouring rain some time between when you first entered the venue and now. You were still under part of the entry structure, so the water wasn’t hitting you yet. It was getting closer with each one of Jason’s forceful strides. You could see it smacking against the ground several yards away.

“Where are we even going?” you asked.

“Where do you think? To the car. Dick should have it back from valet by now,” he said. “You’re going home, and then you’re going to your room.”

You knew he said it on purpose. He phrased it like that to rile you up, to poke at you. But it worked nonetheless.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” you snapped and smacked his bicep with the back of your free hand as hard as you could.

Your hardest was nothing to him though. He whipped around faster than any human should be able to and grabbed your jaw.

“Do it again, and I swear I’ll fucking put you over my shoulder. I’ll carry you to the car kicking and screaming in front of all your daddy’s friends,” he said.

A chill shot through your body. For once, you didn’t have anything to say. Seeing him like that, jaw flexing, eyes blazing… you didn’t doubt that he would pick you up and cart you off like a bratty little kid if you didn’t listen.

He released your face and turned around, continuing in the direction of the street. The covering above ended in a few paces. Droplets of rain began pelting down on your skin, getting your dress and hair wet.

“This isn’t changing my mind, you know!” you called out to him from behind. Your desire to have the last word won out over self-preservation every time. “Dragging me through the rain, being all mean just cause you can’t handle the truth!”

He didn’t even stop walking to placate you. “Not a single word of what you said was the truth,” he said.

“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it not true!”you say. “This is exactly what I was saying! You can’t just have a conversation! You have to feel in control!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he said. His fingers were digging into your arm hard enough to bruise, but he still kept walking. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The curb was coming up fast. You knew he was reaching the boiling point, but you didn’t care. You wanted to keep prodding and picking him apart until he crumbled.

“Of course I don’t. Because nobody can understand the great tragedy that is Jason Todd. We’re all too clueless and naive to know what you’ve been through,” you spat. 

The both of you brushed past the valet drivers like you had the employees inside. Jason briefly glanced at either side of the street to ensure the two of you wouldn’t be mowed down in the middle of this pleasant discussion.

He wasn’t giving you the reaction you wanted though.

“The reality is that you don’t want help, Jason! You act like you’re so irredeemable, like it’s not a choice, but it is! You keep running away and locking everyone out because you’d actually have to improve if you let them in! You’re gonna be alone forever, and it will be all your fault!” you said just as the two of you reached where Dick was waiting in the car across the street.

It was then, beside the sleek metallic black exterior, that he finally, truly cracked. He spun around, one hand clamping over your mouth and one pressing your shoulder to the car. You stared up at him with wide-eyes, taking in what you’d reduced him too.

“Be quiet,” he said. “Just stop fucking talking.”

The pressure on your face wasn’t that hard. Without much effort, you slipped one of your own hands up and pried his off. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he cut you off.

“You think I like pushing you away? That I like not knowing how to let you in?” he asked. His voice sounded strained, almost broken. “Do you think it’s fun for me to watch you get hurt and then tell me what a piece of shit I am? Do you think I want to leave you because I don’t know how to fix anything?! Don’t you think I wish I could be more like Dick? That you came to me as easily as you did him?”

Your heart pounded so hard in your chest that the sound rivaled the storm clouds. Streams of water dribbled down over his face like longer forms of tears. His damp hair stuck to his forehead. He looked like a mess.

“How am I supposed to know any of that if you don’t tell me?!” you asked, your voice cracking in shame a little. “I wasn’t trying to fix you or change you or whatever. I just wanted to be more than a client you tell stories about in the future.”

The argument stalled between you and him. He was breathing heavily, only a little harder than yourself. The pressure on your shoulder eased as his hand slid to the side and flatted against the car window. His other fingers went beneath your chin, tilting your head up. Your noses were less than an inch away.

“I swear…” he mumbled. “You’re such a brat. Think you know everything, but you’re fucking blind if you really believe you mean so little to me.”

There were no words in any language that could convey the emotion that flooded your body. He took your breath away while filling you with the most vigor you’d ever experienced. The dwindling anger in you vanished entirely. You could only think to do one thing.

Your hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him, closing the tiny gap between your lips. He didn’t pull away. His hands fell to your waist, keeping your body as close as physically possible to his.

In the back of your mind, you knew this wasn’t the smartest move. You’d already put on quite the show on the way here. The last thing you needed would be someone spotting you across the street and bringing the news to your father that you were making out with some stranger against another one’s car.

But none of that really mattered right now. It couldn’t. Not when you had Jason’s tongue entering your mouth. Not when you were stumbling around to the passenger door. Not when he was groaning against your lips in a way you hadn’t felt in what seemed like eternity.

He popped the door open before falling inside and tugging you on top of him. You slammed it shut behind the two of you, barely making sure your dress was all the way inside before diving in for more kisses.

“Woah, what did I miss?” Dick said from the driver’s seat.

“Shut up and drive the car,” Jason mumbled against your lips.

“I leave you two alone for five minutes, and I swear…” he said. You could hear that smug smile in every word.

The headlights beamed onto the slick road in front of the car. Rain continued knocking against the roof as he put into drive and took off. Dick had the radio on low in the background. The sound of your kisses combined with your and Jason’s breathing muffled it substantially.

You cupped Jason’s jaw, keeping his face level with yours. Your tongue flicked across his lips before delving into the warm cavern of his mouth. A small sigh fanned over your face, warm air that felt cool from the beads of water all over your skin.

He was just as eager as you. His hands stayed on your hips, gripping through the shimmery fabric of your dress. The skirt of it was already riding up from your position, and you were certain he’d have up around your waist in no time.

You ground yourself down on him, rolling your hips a few times in fluid motions. A quiet groan crept up his throat.

“You feeling a little desperate, baby?” he murmured. “Been a whole week since I had you.”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, pressing yourself down on him again.

He gave your ass a quick slap, a bit of encouragement before his fingers dug into the plush flesh. You moaned and dropped your head to his neck. Your lips found refuge in the skin there. You kissed up and down his throat with the same fervor you had for his lips. Little beads of water slid onto your mouth, rolling down from the strands of his hair.

Your teeth scraped over the pulsing artery in his neck. The sting of him wanting reassignment was still scorching inside you, so you wanted to leave some marks on him. Tiny purple flecks he could take with him on his new job.

“You were throwing such a fit… all cause you missed me,” he murmured right beside your ear.

“Cause you were being mean to me,” you corrected.

“Mmmm… that’s right. I guess I was,” he said.

He shifted underneath you, leaning further back into his seat. You chased after him with your wanting mouth. Your hands fell between your body towards his pants. You were more than ready to get to some real making up, but he stopped you short. His fingers clasped around your wrist and tugged it away.

“But it was only cause you were giving me such a hard time.”

He smirked as you whined in disappointment. You tried reaching down again, but like you’d learned many times before, your will was no match for his strength. He flipped you around on his lap with ease so that your back was flush against his chest.

Now his fingers tucked beneath the hem of your dress and yanked it upwards. He bunched the fabric just above your panties, leaving the lacy white exposed.

“You wouldn’t let me apologize, wouldn’t let me leave in peace, said some real nasty stuff to me, tried running off with some other guy,” he whispered, his breath hot on your neck.

“You deserved it,” you huffed as you wriggled in his hold.

Was using the painful events of the past week as foreplay the best way to cope with the ache they left behind? Probably not. But really, all you took away from that was that he sounded a little bit jealous, which had you preening more than anything else.

Jason’s hand slithered down your body to the space between your thighs. His fingers found your clothed cunt with practiced ease, almost muscle memory. He rubbed the thick pads of them over your clit, swirling over the little bud in rough loops.

A moan erupted out of you into the car. Your head flew back against Jason’s shoulder. It wasn’t like you’d been totally celibate since you and Jason fought, but his and Dick’s touches were different from each other. Not better or worse, just different. And you’d been missing Jason’s half of that whole.

In the midst of your ecstasy, Dick reached up towards the rearview mirror and angled it down to get a look at the action.

“Hey,” you whimpered with a little pout.

“What?” he laughed. “You were giving me a hard time too, sweetheart. I deserve a little compensation.”

“That’s right. Let Dick watch. If he’s not taking your side, you know you were pretty bad,” Jason said. 

His freehand came up to paw at your breast. It slid under the top of your dress, getting his palm on your bare skin. Your flesh was smooth as silk, malleable and pliant under his command. He squeezed it nice and tight how you like before his fingers began toying with your nipple.

The car came to a stop at a red light. You kept moving, writhing and squirming on his lap. Your heels came off at some point. They dropped to the floor with one another. Dick watched with his full attention now. His eyes raked over your face and your gyrating torso, your swiveling hips and finally Jason’s digits delving under your panties to get at your pussy.

He didn’t waste time. The tip of his fingers poked at your entrance before the rest of them slid inside. He pumped them in and out. You were wet enough to make it easy, and your arousal only spread with every thrust of his wrist.

You mewled, arching your back off his chest. Your eyes rolled back so hard you thought you saw the headrest behind you.

“You're lucky these windows are tinted, princess. Otherwise you’d be giving the car next to us a real show,” Jason teased.

Your walls spasmed around his fingers. You turned your head to the side, lazily glancing out the window with half-lidded eyes. The vehicle to your right had a man and a woman around your parents' age. They sat with their eyes on the signal ahead, waiting for it to flip over from red to green. Both of them remained completely oblivious to the scene stopped beside them.

“Would you like that, baby? Everyone seeing how bad you want me, how desperate you get without me taking care of you for a little while?” he breathed. “How pretty you look when you’re all worked up?”

To go along with his words, his hand left your chest and crept towards the button to open the window. It took your brain a couple of seconds to register what the movement actually meant.

“Jason!” you whined, bucking your hips and grabbing his hand away.

Both him and Dick laughed. His arm snuck around you, pulling you close as could be.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he said. “No one else gets to see that. Just me and Dick.”

“Just you and Dick,” you repeated with a faint nod.

Your body melted against his radiating warmth. You relaxed again, letting the pleasure overtake you once again. He was rubbing you just right. The heel of his palm ground on your sensitive clit while his two fingers continued to curl inside of you.

You were fast approaching the edge. Your breaths came quicker, your limbs got more fidgety. But just as you began to crest that high, the light beaming into the car swapped to green. With the red went your pleasure, fizzling out as his fingers pulled away.

“Jason!” you said again in that same whiny tone. You tried to smack his arm, but he was quick enough to block.

“What?” he teased, pecking at your neck and cheek.

In the haze of a lost orgasm, you struggled to get the words out. You looked to Dick for help, but his eyes were back on the road. He tutted, sensing your indignant look.

“Ah-ah. You didn’t want my help, remember?” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you whined. Your bottom lip started to puff out into your signature look. “Can’t you guys gimme a break this one time. I was upset too, y’know…”

Jason let out a breathy laugh behind your ear. “Yeah, you were,” he said softly between a few more kisses.

His hand made its way back down to your center and stayed there for the remainder of the drive. He kept you on the edge, bringing you close enough just to teeter but not actually finish. It drove you crazy in the best way.

You didn’t even notice your surroundings as Dick turned off of the main road and pulled into the parking lot for your building. It only dawned on you that you were back home when he shut the car off and the engine went quiet. 

Jason pulled his hand from your panties again, this time for good. Your head floated off his shoulder and glanced around. By now, your legs felt as wobbly as a baby deer and your head was spinning without the constant rush that had been coursing through you for the last twenty minutes.

Even though you hadn’t cum, the same sort of needy longing welled up inside you while looking between the two of them. Jason was just grinning at your little stupor while Dick had a bit more fondness written on his face.

You couldn’t help it. Before you knew what was happening, you were crawling over the center console into Dick’s lap. Your arm wrapped around his neck and your lips peppered kisses all across his face.

“I’m sorry I was giving you a hard time,” you mumbled. Jason being mad at you was one thing — almost a natural stage in the cycle of your relationship at this point — but Dick having any sort of negative feeling towards you? Dick who was so sweet and caring and everything you needed whenever you needed it? That could not stand.

He chuckled, his lips curving into a smile under all your affection. “That’s alright,” he said softly. “You were just having a shitty day. It happens.”

“Not to you,” you said, only half-joking.

“To me too.” He smiled. 

On the opposite side of the car, the passenger door popped open and Jason got out, the straps of your heels hooked around his index finger. He ducked back in, giving you two a look that suggested he wanted to move things along.

“You got her?” he asked.

Dick nodded in return.

The door slammed shut, and his hands rubbed up and down your back. “You wanna walk or…”

“Or.” You nodded.

Returning one of your small kisses, he opened the driver door. He shifted you off his lap before stepping out. You watched him move, admired how the nearby lamppost cast a glow over his fluffy hair and striking features, ogled how his arms flexed as he fixed the skirt of your dress.

After he deemed your appearance suitable if anyone happened to spot you on the way in, he lifted you from the seat and nudged the door shut. He held you like a princess while walking to the sleek entrance of your building, and with the stars sparkling overhead, he looked the part of prince charming.

You let your head fall back over his arm as the three of you headed in towards the elevator. The doorman nodded at Dick and Jason as they passed with you. You doubted anything they saw would get back to your father, but just in case, you’d rather have them report that you’d had one too many at the event than the fact that you were making out, ready to fuck both of your bodyguards as soon as the elevator struck floor 70.

Once those doors shut to give you three the privacy of the cabin, you were squirming out of Dick’s arms onto your feet. You reached up towards Jason, pulling him down to your mouth in a hasty exchange. Your other arm reached back for Dick though, still wanting him close.

He was happy to oblige. His lips found your neck and planted soft pecks all over the area that spanned from your ear to the strap of your dress. 

You hadn’t had both of them on you in what felt like an eternity, and now it was like reentering heaven. Hands gripped your hips, felt up your ass, rubbed across your stomach. You couldn’t keep track of what limb belonged to who, but that was fine.

As soon as that delicate chime resounded through the small square space, the three of you stumbled into the penthouse. You didn’t have a specific destination in mind. In all honesty, you would have been content to do it right there on the entry floor.

But they guided you down the hall and into the living room. Your palms found the back of the couch. You used the smooth surface for balance while they continued their dual efforts. Jason still had command of your mouth while Dick had moved his attention elsewhere. His nimble fingers took hold of the zipper on the back of your dress, working it down with ease.

That shimmery silver fabric parted to reveal your spine. He hooked his digits around one strap and then the other, slipping them off in tandem and leaving you there in your pristine white lingerie.

“You knew we were gonna be making up, wearing something this pretty,” Jason mumbled as he lightly snapped the hem of your panties against your skin.

“Nuh uh. I’m always this pretty. You should be used to it by now,” you said with a little smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grabbed a handful of your ass cheek before giving it a firm smack.

Dick’s hand laced with one of yours and began pulling you around the end of the sectional so that you all were on the side of the seats. You plopped down, leaning back and showing off a little for them.

The view didn’t go unappreciated. Their eyes traced over about every inch of your frame while undoing their ties and shrugging off their suit jackets. You took the time to pull off your panties and kick them aside.

Jason finished undressing first and sat down beside you. His hands grabbed your waist and tugged you on top of him. Your thighs spread across the width of his meaty legs.

“You want me first tonight?” he asked, reaching down between the both of you to stroke his cock. He swiped his thumb over the tip. A bead of precum followed, a pearly drop he smeared on your soaked folds.

You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before answering. “I want both of you first…” you say tentatively.

His brows raised, but you could see in his eyes he was far from opposed to your suggestion.

“You want both? At the same time.”

You nodded.

“You think you’re ready for that?” he asked, almost teasing. “That’s a lot, especially for someone like you. You get overwhelmed so easily.”

Your face heated up, especially cause he had a stupid smirk on his. With a little scoff, you nodded again.

“I want it. I want all of you while I have you. Don’t wanna waste any time waiting for anything.”

Your fingers caressed over the muscular swell of his biceps, a distraction from the sentiment hidden within your words. Jason sensed it too. You knew without even looking. His hold got slightly softer, he stopped rubbing the head of his cock over your slit for a moment. But instead of dwelling on it, he looked beyond your shoulder.

“You hear that, Dick? You think she’s ready for two at the same time?”

You felt the feather-light touch of Dick’s fingers on your shoulders before he even responded. They massaged your muscles, swirling around as he leaned down to kiss the skin next to your ear.

“If that’s what she wants,” he said. “You know I have a hard time giving her anything but.”

It was hard not to squirm under all the attention, but you managed to stay composed. You planted your palms on Jason’s chest and gave him a subtle set of puppy eyes, just for good measure in case he wasn’t sold on the idea yet.

But his velvety tip slotted at your entrance again. He pushed up a little, just to tease the idea of popping inside.

“You gotta hold still, alright? No moving around or trying to help out,” he said.

You nodded again just as he slid a couple inches of his length inside. Your lips rounded out as the familiar stretch hit you. You wanted so badly to sink down, to take more until you were settled on his lap, but he just told you not to move.

Luckily, he acted for you. His hands clasped around your hips and brought you down until he was fully sheathed inside of you. He kept you there for a moment before rocking you up and down a couple of times.

Your head fell back, only for the sight of Dick smiling down at you to fill your vision. He pet one side of your head, his fingers curling to cup your face while his other set ventured South. Jason had you still now. His hips did all the moving so Dick would have the opportunity to open you up.

His thumb was the first thing you felt. He rubbed it on your puckered entrance. You couldn’t help it, how your eyes widened a little. Both at the same time. It was really gonna happen.

“Tell me to stop if you feel anything you don’t like,” Dick said softly, planting a kiss on your forehead and then dropping into a crouch to focus his attention down there.

His thumb left you, but just for his tongue to replace it. You squealed at the wet sensation, your hips jerking involuntarily.

Jason’s hands tightened around you. “Fuck, she’s liking it so far,” he hissed as your walls fluttered around his cock.

Dick chuckled from behind you and then really went for it. You leaned forward onto Jason’s chest, giving him ample space to work.

He stayed down there for a little while. You couldn’t be sure how long — time was never easy to gauge in situations like this. He worked with a mix of his fingers and tongue. At first it felt weird. You’d never say it hurt, but it just felt odd. But as time passed and he stretched you further, you found yourself opening up to the possibility of this working.

Jason continued pumping in and out of you all the while. He kept his pace slow, not wanting to finish too early. His shallow thrusts gave you short bursts of pleasure. Enough to keep you somewhere in the middle of satisfaction and wanting.

You were hanging onto the edge when you finally felt a thicker nudge against your back entrance. Dick’s smooth hand rubbed over the length of your spine.

“Just relax for me, baby,” he said.

He slid himself up and down your crack a few times before finally inching in. Your nails dug into Jason’s chest and your toes curled. You squished your cheek against his skin. It wasn’t bad enough for you to tap out, but it was definitely more intense than a few fingers.

“You got it, sweetheart,” he murmured against your hair. His thrusts even came to a halt, letting you focus entirely on adjusting.

“You’re doing so good,” Dick praised. His voice sounded so strained. You wondered how different it felt for him.

He pushed forward until you let out a little pained squeak. Then he paused. He stayed there and drew back before working in again. Once he finally got most of himself in, he stopped for real. Both of them kept completely still, just allowing you to take in being full of both of them.

“How’re you doing? Is it feeling good yet?” Jason asked softly.

You nodded faintly against him, keeping your head pressed to his body. The beat of his heart under your head helped ground you.

“You feel so fucking good,” Dick sighed.

“You can start moving if you wanna…” you said.

“You sure?” they both said, a rare moment where they sounded totally in sync.

“Yeah,” you reaffirmed.

“You got it then. Always getting what you want,” Jason teased gently as he began working his hips once more.

Dick started a few seconds after him. He went a little slower, letting you get used to the movement. You mewled at the stretch, but it wasn’t painful like before. Along with Jason’s cock distracting you, it didn’t feel bad. You kind of started to like it.

Both of them kept firm grips on the flesh of your hips in different places. Dick’s thumbs pet stripes down the curve of your ass as his hips.

“So, so good for us,” he murmured with a squeeze. “So perfect.”

And praise came from Jason too, more freely than you’d ever heard it flow from his lips.

“Our pretty baby,” he cooed. “This is all you needed. To know we want you. To feel how much we need you.”

You nodded with a shuddery gasp, your head bobbing up and down lazily. Their rhythms were practically inverses of each other. When one went in, the other slid out. You were completely full for fleeting moments but never totally empty.

After a little while, it was more than you could take. You melted onto Jason’s chest, half-heartedly grabbing at him in a bid for some sort of stability. He held you closer with one arm across your shoulder blades and used his other hand for more leverage on your hips to pump his cock deeper inside you.

Every brush of his tip against your sweet spot drew you closer to release. Your eyes fluttered and warmth flooded every inch of your body.

“I’m right there with you, princess. Come on. Let go for me,” he said.

The rumble of his voice coaxing you to the edge worked almost as well as his physical touch. Your muscles tensed up before you felt that euphoric burst inside. A loud moan poured out of you onto his chest. You rolled your hips on him, unable to stop yourself from ignoring his previous directions.

It didn’t matter though. Dick pulled himself out of you a second later. You heard a couple soft grunts and then felt the warm splash of his cum on your back.

Jason came inside you. He buried himself all the way to the hilt before letting go with a loud groan. His neck flexed while the muscles in his arms twitched. You would have really admired the sight if you weren’t so fucked out yourself.

The three of you all came down at a similar rate. Dick slumped down to sit near the both of you on the couch. He ran a hand through his hair as he caught his breath. You slowly rolled off of Jason and sprawled out across a few cushions.

Silence filled the room around you, but for the first time all week, it wasn’t awkward. You were totally content not speaking right now. There wasn’t some void waiting to be filled. Rather, you were content with only their presence.

Jason was the first to get up. He slowly rose from the comfort of the couch. You watched lazily as he headed in the direction of the stairs. For a second, your stomach twisted with anxiety. Had you let yourself be used again so easily?

But he came back not even a full minute later with a water bottle and a rag to clean you up. Dick slid closer, not one to leave you hanging either. He took the damp cloth from Jason’s hand and brought it down between your legs and over your back.

You laid there and let them tend to you without a word until Jason carefully guided you upright. He tilted the now-open bottle against your lips, getting you to take a couple swallows of the cool liquid.

“Take it easy, pretty girl,” he said softly.

A bead of water rolled down from your lips onto your chin as he pulled the bottle away. You wiped it off with your index finger, your eyes flitting between the both of them.

While you may have patched things up, they still weren’t entirely normal. You were in a weird sort of limbo right now, just waiting to see what they would decide to do next.

Jason leaned in to plant a barely-there kiss on your temple. You took his large hand in your own, clasping your fingers around the warm flesh. “I’m gonna go put some clothes on,” he said.

He stood up and headed towards the stairs again, this time to actually leave the room. Your hands trailed down his skin, lingering on his fingertips before finally letting him go.

You contemplated your next move for a moment before turning to Dick. You took his hand as you’d done to Jason’s and gave it a squeeze.

He met it with that small smile of his. Reaching out, the bows of his fingers coasted over your cheek.

“You feeling better than before?” he asked.

You responded with a nod, determined for that to be the absolute truth.

“Good,” he said.

You stood up from the couch next and began picking up the clothing that was strewn about the area. He helped you out, picking his own garments and a couple of Jason’s. Together you both took them upstairs to your room.

While there, you put on a pair of fresh clothes, just a t-shirt and some shorts. Nothing too extravagant. You were too tired for that. 

Dick followed suit, pulling on some sweats to lounge around in. He flopped back onto your mattress and opened his arms for you.

You smiled and looked away playfully. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get myself some more water.”

“Don’t be too long,” he teased.

“Don’t be impatient,” you said, in the same lilted tone.

You shut your bedroom door behind you and made your way across the walkway. On the path there, you just happened to notice. Jason’s door was shut. Seeing that stung a little bit. Maybe you hadn’t mended things as well as you thought.

But you forced yourself to shake off the impending doom and gloom. Even if things weren’t perfect, they were a step closer to better. It might take time. You had patience, just like you’d told him. He was worth the effort.

Once you reached the kitchen, you did fill up a glass of water for yourself, but you didn’t head back up to your room immediately. Instead, you drifted towards the balcony doors. It was dark out there, the horizon so vast it made you feel as if the wind could sweep you up and carry you away.

You unlatched the lock and cracked the door open, stepping outside. The night air instantly sent a chill across your exposed skin. The wind nipped at your legs and sliced over your forearms. You wrapped them around your torso for some semblance of warmth.

Despite the wind, it was quiet out here. The city was lit up down below, but you couldn’t hear the noise of it. You approached the railing, still a step or two away from actually touching the barrier.

The fresh air filled your lungs. For the first time in days, you didn’t feel wound up about something. Things had settled with Jason, you knew Dick wasn’t upset with you, and you honestly couldn’t care less about the things your father had said earlier.

You wished you could be like this all the time. Serene and tranquil, not so reactionary, lashing out at the slightest deviation to your wishes.

The door opened and clicked into place again behind you. You spun around, heart beating fast, but it was only Jason.

“Hey…” he said, taking a few tentative steps in your direction.

“Hi…” You took a couple in his as well.

You met in the middle, equidistant from the glass doors and the steel railing. Your eyes met his. A silent exchange passed between the two of you, one without words or even coherent thoughts, just raw emotion.

His arm came out before you could say a word. He looped it over your shoulders and brought you in to his chest.

“Thought you never came out here?” he asked.

Your hand curled around his bicep. “I just felt like it tonight.”

Another few seconds went by with the wind doing all the talking. But he didn’t let things stall for too long.

“I went to your room. Dick told me you were getting water.”

“Why’d you go there?” you asked quietly. Your fingers swirled little patterns on his arm while hope bloomed in your chest.

“Maybe I wanted to be in there with you two tonight…” he said, so soft and faint as if he was forced to confess it.

“Just for tonight?” you whispered, tilting your head up to see him clearly. “Will it be your last?”

“No,” he said back. A simple answer, but the only one you needed all the same. He wasn’t leaving. Not yet anyways.

You squeezed your arms tighter around him, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath of his air.

“You can always be in there. Whenever you want,” you said.

“Good. I’m gonna hold you to that for the next few weeks.”

The next few weeks. A dreadful reminder that your relationship rested upon the foundation of an ever-ticking clock. It didn’t matter right now though. Not while he was in your arms, telling you he wanted you back. You could worry about what would happen down the line in January when it came.

“Let’s start right now then.” You stepped back and took his hand, leading him back inside and up to the bedroom. In there, with both of them, time wouldn’t matter. Other assignments or obligations would have no effect. You could bury yourself in the mess of pillows and blankets, happy that you had managed to turn things around just this once.

[kthologue]

head over heels – jason todd

synopsis. jason todd is smitten and everyone is tired of it 

contents. fluff, ooc?, so much banter and pining its painful, like can they just kiss already

notes. short moments i had written but decided to combine into one fic. maybe i'll make a pt 2. not proofread...

There have only been a few occasions where Jason’s family has seen him smile. And even then, it was usually a sick smirk as he wreaked havoc on his enemies. So, imagine their shock when they watch their brooding, battle-hardened brother smile at you, of all people.

You.

His sworn enemy. A dramatic title, sure, but fitting. Ever since the two of you met, you had butted heads at every opportunity. Your strong personalities clashed and neither of you were willing to back down. In fact, you had become a fixture in each other’s lives. Two forces of nature neither could ignore.

And right now, the storm was brewing once again.

"You were in my territory again, asshole!" You jab a finger into his chest, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.

Jason scoffs, arms crossing as he looms over you. "Your territory? Last time I checked, Bruce took it away after that drug ring went out of control. Don't think you can handle it alone, sweetheart."

Your jaw drops. "Excuse me?!" Your voice pitches up, outrage and disbelief mixing together as your hands curl into fists at your sides.

On the sidelines, Dick nudges Damian toward the exit of the Batcave. "We should go before it gets violent."

"That, or they're finally going to kiss," Tim mutters, eyes glued to the scene. It’s like watching a car crash– horrific, yet impossible to look away from.

Jason doesn’t acknowledge them. He’s too busy watching you, his entire focus drawn to the way your face contorts in frustration, how your lips part as you struggle for a retort.

"You heard me," Jason says, tilting his head slightly, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "You were wounded when we found you. Wounded, and alone."

You huff, crossing your arms as if that could protect you from the memory. "I was fine."

Jason gives an exasperated laugh, running a hand through his hair. "You call a gunshot wound fine?"

"Just a gunshot wound," you correct, jaw tightening. "Nothing new around here."

"Just a gunshot wound?!" Jason repeats, incredulous. "I had to carry your stubborn ass out of there!"

"I didn't ask you to!"

Jason exhales sharply through his nose, nostrils flaring. "Yeah, well, it’s not like I wasn’t going to!"

The argument should feel tense. But instead, there's a crackling undercurrent, something unspoken lingering in the space between you.

What you don’t see, what everyone else in the Cave does is the way Jason is looking at you. Not with his usual scowl, not with the biting irritation that fuels your bickering, but something softer. 

A smile ghosts across his lips. It’s subtle, but there nonetheless. Like a cat discreetly preening under attention, soaking in every word, every ounce of energy you throw his way.

And the moment his siblings notice, chaos erupts.

“Holy shit,” Tim whispers, eyes wide.

Dick sucks in a breath like he’s just witnessed something forbidden.

Damian, ever the blunt one, sneers. "Disgusting."

Jason barely notices. He’s too busy watching you, fighting the way his lips twitch up again as you huff and look away, cheeks a little warmer than before.

“You are absolutely insufferable, Todd.”

His smile widens, “You know you love it.”

Turns out, you and Jason can't even be within a fifty mile radius of each other without making everyone around you feel strangely uncomfortable.

Dick makes a mental note to never let the two of you spar again. At least, not with an audience. Whenever you and Jason were in the same space, the rest of the world might as well not exist. And the tension. It was painfully suffocating.

The Batcave was dead silent except for the sound of heavy breathing and the sharp clash of fists meeting blocks. Everyone had been watching for the past twenty minutes as you and Jason fought, your movements sharp and teetering between training and an actual fight.

To be fair, no one expected the two of you to take it easy on each other. You never had before.

Jason wiped his mouth with the back of his hand after you landed a solid hit to his jaw. Instead of being pissed, though, he grinned. It was a dangerous thing that made your stomach do an annoying little flip.

"Not bad," he admitted, rolling his shoulders.

You smirked. "Starting to sound impressed, Todd."

Jason lunged, and before you could dodge, he swept your legs out from under you. You barely had time to brace yourself before your back hit the mat, the air leaving your lungs in a sharp exhale. In the next second, Jason was above you, his body caging you in, pinning your wrists down on either side of your head.

And suddenly, everything felt different.

The heat between you wasn’t just from exertion anymore. The way he was looking at you with his weight pressing down just enough to make your breath catch, it wasn’t just about winning a fight.

"Not starting to," Jason murmured, voice lower now, more serious. "I’ve been impressed."

Your throat went dry.

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you, but you didn’t dare look away from Jason. His pupils were blown wide, chest rising and falling against yours, and… 

Oh. Oh no.

He was smiling. And it wasn't a smirk. It was a real, genuine smile.

And worst of all, you found yourself smiling back.

The two of you stayed locked in a daze until you heard a cough in the background, a sharp reminder that the two of you were not alone. It knocks you out of your trance.

You take his short moment of weakness to headbutt him, leaving the male in a daze. Without wasting the split second advantage, it was your turn to pin him down.

“I guess I could say the same for you,” you shrug. “Could be better, but satisfactory.”

Jason groans at the impact of your forehead on his, “Has anyone ever told you that you have a hard head?”

“Yeah,” you snort, looking down at Jason. “You.”

Jason lets out a breathy chuckle beneath you, eyes still unfocused from the headbutt. "Yeah, well. Doesn't make it any less annoying."

You shift slightly, keeping his wrists pinned to the mat, and his grip tightens under your hands. It was instinctual, a sign that he isn’t actually letting you win. His chest rises and falls beneath yours, warm despite the cool air of the cave.

And then, there it is again. That rare, infuriatingly soft smile that no one ever sees.

You freeze for half a second. It’s barely noticeable, but Jason doesn’t miss a thing. His smirk stretches just a little wider, eyes gleaming in that way that makes your stomach twist.

"What?" he drawls, voice lower now, amused. "Distracted?"

You shove off him with a huff, standing up as fast as possible. Jason barely has time to react before you're already a few steps away, arms crossed, pretending like that moment didn’t just happen.

But Jason is still on the ground, propped up on his elbows, looking far too pleased with himself.

Dick, who had been trying very hard to mind his business, sighs dramatically. "For the love of God, just kiss already."

You whip around, glaring. "Gross! Nobody asked you, Grayson!"

Jason, still grinning like an idiot, finally hauls himself to his feet, rubbing the spot on his forehead where you hit him. "Y'know, for someone who acts like they hate me, you sure do love touching me."

You glare at him for enabling their behavior. "That's not true, and you know it."

Jason steps closer, slow, deliberate. Not enough to be threatening, but enough that the air between you tense again. Enough that you feel the heat radiating off him.

He’s still smiling.

Your breath catches.

Jason tilts his head. "Something wrong?"

You curse under your breath, shove past him, and stomp out of the Batcave without another word.

Jason watches you go, still rubbing his forehead, still smiling.

Tim exhales, shaking his head. "That was painful to watch."

Jason just chuckles. "Yeah," he mutters to himself, grin still lingering. "It was."

2 a.m. stakeouts were the worst.

It was cold and boring, the kind of hours that made you question why you even did this hero thing in the first place. To make matters worse, you were stuck on patrol with Jason, so there was no semblance of peace in the quiet Gotham night.

By the time you and Jason finally wrapped up surveillance, both of you were starving. There wasn’t a debate about it, just a silent agreement as he gunned his motorcycle toward a late-night diner on the outskirts of Gotham.

Now, you were sitting across from him in a vinyl booth, watching in mild horror as he absolutely demolished a double bacon cheeseburger.

"You eat like you just got out of prison," you observed, idly stirring your milkshake with a straw.

Jason wiped his mouth with a napkin, raising an eyebrow. "And?"

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your shake. "Nothing. Just surprised you have manners at all."

Jason chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head. And then, before you could process it, there it was again.

That damn smile. It was the kind of expression no one ever saw on him. The kind of smile that didn’t belong to Gotham’s deadliest vigilante.

The kind of smile that, apparently, only appeared when he was with you.

You felt your pulse stutter in your throat, caught completely off guard.

Jason must’ve noticed, because his smirk returned instantly, cocking his head, surging with a newfound sense of confidence. And you're not sure if you like that. "Like what you see?"

Your mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. "You wish."

Jason leaned back against the booth, arms stretching over the seat as he regarded you with amusement. "Yeah," he said, way too casually, "I do."

You nearly choked on your fries, “Geez, Todd. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were flirting with me.”

Jason raises an eyebrow.

“And if I was?”

“I would have to check to see where the real Jason is.”

“He’s right here.”

You eye him suspiciously. 

Jason watches you carefully, his smirk still in place but not as sharp, not as mocking. There’s something else there. It’s something you can’t quite place, something that makes your pulse stutter.

"You’re acting weird," you say, pointing a fry at him. "Where’s all the unnecessary aggression? The brooding?"

Jason exhales, shaking his head. "Maybe I just don’t feel like fighting tonight."

You raise a brow, popping the fry into your mouth. "That’s a first."

He leans back against the booth, arms stretching lazily over the seat, but there’s tension in his shoulders, in his fingers tapping idly against the vinyl. "Yeah, well," he muses, eyes flicking to you, "arguing with you is exhausting."

"You love arguing with me," you counter easily, leaning back to mirror his posture. "You start half of them."

Jason hums, tilting his head as if considering it. "Maybe," he allows. Then, after a beat, "Maybe I just like getting a rise out of you."

Your breath catches for half a second. 

Jason’s watching you now, really watching you, his gaze too steady, too knowing.

You force a scoff. "So what I’m hearing is, you’re an instigator."

Jason grins at that, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "You always read too much into things," he says, but there’s no real bite to it. If anything, he almost sounds amused.

Your stomach twists uncomfortably. You blame the fries.

Silence stretches between you, not awkward, but charged. There’s an awareness now, a shift in the air, like something unspoken lingers just beneath the surface.

Jason looks at you, and for the first time tonight, his smirk fades—not completely, but just enough.

Just enough that the teasing falls away. Just enough that you catch a glimpse of something softer.

Something terrifying.

You don’t know who looks away first, but when you do, your heart is hammering a little too hard against your ribs.

Jason clears his throat, reaching for his drink. "So," he says, back to casual, back to easy, "you gonna finish your fries or what?"

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you push the basket toward him. "Knock yourself out, tough guy."

Jason takes one, popping it into his mouth. He doesn’t say anything else, but when you glance at him again, there’s that damn smile.

It’s subtle, but it was just for you.

Across the comms, Dick sighs, exasperated but entertained. “Do they have any idea we can all hear them?”

[imnotsiho]

i | insanity

they say a little too much thinking and letting your brain's screws work overtime could turn it into a good old fried brain. insanity, as others would call it, and one of the adjectives most people would describe siho, past and present. as a young girl, siho was known to be this quiet little kid who hadn't want anything to do with anyone unless it involved desserts or pretty dresses, to ha juho's relief. I won't have to worry about her when she grows up. he once thought to himself, thinking that if she grows up normal, he won't have to bring siho into the world of petty crimes and the organization. he and his wife both, had high hopes that one day, their family can be at peace, away from the ugly world they're currently involved in- until the day 13 year old siho came home with a bleeding nose. worry and concern laced the faces of both her parents as they examined her for any further marks; her right hand knuckles were boasting a splatter of red and purple, siho's expression dull. "what happened, dear?" her mother asked as both her and her husband knelt down holding siho's hands, as if further examining it would heal it in real time.

"i wanted to see how many punches it would take before my nose started bleeding. it took only nine."

sihwan gave a quick nod towards the bodyguards that were standing across the room, to which juho raised his brow against. "we have done our investigations ma'am. she did it in the open field restroom five minutes before the bell rung. the principal of the school doesn't know just yet. a couple of students saw her bleeding on the way to the car, but no one saw the process." the taller man quickly informed, his head bowed down as he wasn't sure if it was right for him to say all those details, or if he lacked further of any.

with a short sigh, siho's father waved the two bodyguards away, massaging his temples with one hand immediately after. "very well."

[r4spb3rr13s]

pro heroes meeting their feisty, mcbling gf

♱ bakugou, kirishima, midoriya, dabi

♱ pt.2 here pt.3 here

note: it’s me, i’m the feisty mcbling gf 😞

Katsuki has been on shift for what feels like hours. In reality… well it has been hours. He’s been patrolling a smaller, more mundane part of Tokyo, where all he’s done is help little old ladies with their groceries and scold kids for trying to steal candy.

He was dying to get home.

So, when he heard a scream five minutes from patrol ending, the groan he let out was loud, unprofessional and frankly, really douche-y of him. But still, he flew towards the alley it echoed from.

He turned the corner, expecting a damsel in distress…

Only to see you.

Beating a man with a Juicy Couture suede bag, wobbling on platform sandals.

While this man lets out the girliest, highest-pitched screams Katsuki has ever heard in his life.

“That’s.” Hit. “What.” Hit. “You.” Hit. “Get!” Big hit!

Katsuki blinks out of his trance and takes a booming step toward you. “What the fuck’s goin on?”

You gasp and look up, and Katsuki swears his heart is echoing out of his chest.

Your s/c skin is everywhere, from your jean shorts to the cleavage practically spilling out your leopard print zip-up, and as you straighten up, he catches a glimpse of a belly ring that makes him gulp.

Your hair frames your face with a pair of sunglasses at the top of your head, showing off a fantastic scowl. Glittery eyes are met with furrowed brows, decorated with piercings-galore on your face, and two big hoops either side of your head.

“This prick!” You punctuate it with a nudge of your painted-pink toe, “Tried to rob me! I kneed him in his tiny balls.”

Katsuki raises a brow. You take a minute to glare at the guy, still whimpering, before you strut towards him with narrowed eyes.

You hate to admit it, but Dynamight was hotter in real life. Soot is smeared on his cheek and the scowl on his face sends his ruby-red lasers shooting through you.

“What? You have a staring problem?” You ask with a hand on your hip. Every ounce of confidence you’re letting off is soooo clearly fake right now, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He shakes his head and looks around you to the poor guy on the floor. He’s not going anywhere, still curled up in a feral position and cradling his nads.

Katsuki sweats.

“Alright, sweetheart-”

You try to pretend it doesn’t make your heart skip a beat.

“Sweetheart?” He freezes and looks down at your cocked brow. “At least take me out for a drink first, Mr. Dynamight, c’mon.”

He clears his throat awkwardly, “Shit- sorry, I didn’t- look, you’re okay, right? No injuries?”

You’re inspecting your nails at this point, trying to avoid looking at the muscles in his hero costume. “Huh? Nah, but he should probably get checked out. Am I good to go?”

You sound eager to leave, but you make no move to when he nods.

Instead, you stand, scrutinising him with crossed arms. Katsuki hates to admit it, but even standing a whole foot taller than you, you’re making the blond blush.

“Okay, what? You need somethin’?” He gruffly says.

You glance back at the idiot still on the floor, and he flinches at your gaze.

“You don’t need my number for a report or somethin’?”

The words leave your mouth sooner than you can stop them, but you keep your face cool as your turn around. God, you need a smoke after this.

Katsuki’s hearts skips a beat, but his lip quirks up and he huffs out a chuckle. He reaches into one his pockets, and passes you his phone.

He’s still blushing, but God that man is grinning as well.

:::

Eijiro is mid-lat pulldown when he hears you through the full blast of his headphones. Being the manly pro he is, he takes an earbud out to hear the commotion.

“When I say fuck off, I mean fuck off! What part of that isn’t get through your thick skull?”

Eijiro watched as you scream in a steroid-fueled gym-bro’s face. You’re jabbing a pink nail in his chest, neon pink shorts matching to a sports bra and a small hoodie on your top half.

He gets off the machine, and a loud clang echoes through the gym - you don’t even notice.

“What, too much muscle blocking your brain from working?”

The guy is getting ready to respond, an ugly, violent grimace on his face. As Eijiro steps behind you and crosses his arms, the guy thinks twice.

He nods at you, and turns away, practically running.

You huff and tuck a loose piece of hair behind your hair.

“What was that?”

You jump at the voice and spin around with a shout. A chest- Jesus Christ, he’s tall. You’re face-to-chest with a man covered in muscle, a sharp-toothed smile and spiky, red hair to match it.

“Oh!”

…

…

He raises a brow and smiles at you.

A blush is fighting it’s way onto your face, but you’re too cool for that. Way too cool. So you clear your throat and stop staring at his adorable face for a minute.

“He wasn’t taking no for an answer,” You huff and cross your arms.

Eijiro frowns, “Shit, that sucks. Do you come here often?”

…

It’s your turn to raise a brow.

His face turns as red as his hair when he realises how stupid that sounded. It’s weirdly endearing watching such a large man blush and panic in front of you.

“N-no, like, I can get him banned if you’re a regular. I know the owners, so-”

“Where do I know you from?” You cut him off, doing mental gymnastics.

Eijiro freezes as he watches you. Your thick lashes touch your brows as you go wide-eyed, staring at him intently. So intently, he’s terrified to move a muscle.

You click your fingers and point a sparkly nail at his chest, “Red Riot! I knew I recognised you from somewhere.”

He grins and shrugs. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I mean,” You trail off for a minute, using all your self-restraint to not blush or stutter in front of this fine-ass man, “if you ever wanted to come to rescue again, I could just give you my number?”

Eijiro has never grabbed his phone faster in his life.

:::

Izuku has been caught in the midst of little fans. Children are detaching themselves from parents, flying away from friend groups to crowd around for his autograph. He’s reminded again why he always wears a cap and glasses when he goes to the mall.

He just needed to pick up a pair of boxers, for Gods sake.

A little boy comes hurtling at him, but such is the norm. What he doesn’t see is the girl sprinting after him- sprinting in platform heels that is.

Jeans cling to you tighter than your zebra print top, and the tiny handbag on your shoulder keeps slipping down. Every step you take is a loud jingle with the massive array of jewellery you have on, and star-shaped clips in your hair keep slipping out.

“Deku! You’re the coole-”

“Isamu! Get back here!” You screech. Your sister was going to kill you if she knew the one time you took your nephew out for a little trip to the mall, you lost him.

Watching him talk to a stranger was almost the cherry on top.

You come to a skidding stop, somehow not hurtling over on your open-toed death machines, and grab the 5 year old by the armpits. Isamu let’s out an excited shriek and smiles at you.

Then he points to the guy.

That guy being the number one hero in Japan.

You nearly drop your nephew.

“Oh my God-”

“I’m so sorry-”

You both speak at the same time, then shut up, and just stare at each other like two idiots. He’s not in his costume - duh, idiot, he’s at the mall?- but he looks just as good as he does with his face plastered all over Tokyo.

Strong arms are straining the seams of his black shirt, and his dark hair is brushing the nape of his neck- it looks so soft-

“I’m really sorry, I should have come out with my hat on, sunglasses-”

“Please do not apologise for looking that good,” You mutter and roll your eyes. Then you freeze. Then you both look at each other, while you nibble your lip and smear your lipgloss everywhere.

“Deku! Can I have your auto map!” Isamu screeches from your arms, wiggling like a worm. It’s getting hard to hold him, so you plop him down and hold his hand instead.

“Autograph, buddy, not auto map,” You whisper in his ear.

Izuku’s heart skips a beat. You are gorgeous, silly and amazing with kids- I mean, what else could he really ask for?

He nods and crouched to Isamu’s height.

“Who am I making it out to, then?”

Isamu screams his government name so loud you want to cover your ears, but you just smile awkwardly at Izuku crouching under you.

He looks at you with his big, doe eyes and a soft smile. “What about you?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want an autograph-”

“Your name?”

Oh shit. You mutter it and watch with a smile as the pro scrawls on a notebook he miraculously pulled out from his arse. His round, perky-

“There you go, Isamu. It was great meeting you,” He pats your nephew’s head, who is practically beaming. “It was nice meeting you too, Y/n,” he adds, and turns away with a wave.

As you walk away, Isamu thrusts the paper in your hand.

“LOOK AT IT AUNTIE Y/N!!”

‘if it’s not too forward, id like you text me sometime y/n :)’ and next to the note is his number.

Cheeky bitch.

:::

Dabi has no fucking idea how he ended up in a bar blasting Kesha from the speakers with millennial women screaming ‘this was my party song!’ but he hates it.

Until he sees you.

You’re in the tiniest jean skirt he’s ever seen, and your ass cheeks are so close to popping out. If you’d just stopped swaying your hips and bend over, he’d get a glimpse-

But you turn around, and he watches you twist and turn in a matching halter top, jewellery adding rhythms to the music.

Dabi swears he has never seen anything as captivating as your baby pink lips mouth along to Die Young. God, was he really thinking that? In relation to Kesha? You must be special, he thinks to himself.

He makes no move, though. He sits at the bar, watching you tip back fruity cocktails and teeter on your fur-covered boots.

He looks away for a second, he swears, and suddenly you’re on the bar stool next to him. Not just sat, but staring. Like, blatantly staring right at him.

He mirrors you, leaning on his palm and watching you.

You’d be lying if you tried to say his cerulean eyes weren’t doing something to you, but there were more pressing issues at hand.

“You’ve been staring at me all night.”

It’s a fact, he has been.

A smile curls onto his lips, and he shifts so he’s closer to you. “Have I? Didn’t notice…”

You’re drunk. Like, much too drunk, because his face is a blur- a handsome blur though. You are aware enough to tell he’s staring at your tits, though.

You click your fingers in his face and he looks back up at you. There’s a moment on his face where he looks shocked, but a bigger smirk replaces it.

“Sorry, hun-”

“Hun? What am I, 5?”

He leans forward, and the overwhelming stench of a beach fire is fighting with your Britney Spears perfume. The air starts to smell like burnt sugar around you, and it’s weirdly compelling.

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“Well, you’ll need my number to call me.”

It takes you a minute to realise how dumb that was- you’re drunk and that is not what he meant, but it made him drop the cool boy act. He stared at you for a second with wide eyes before chuckling under his breath.

“You are somethin’, princess…”

“Princess?”

“Yeah, the skirt and all the pink- very princessy,” He gestured to your outfit before pulling out… a burner phone.

You really should not have drank that much, because you don’t even care to question it as you’re typing you digits in.

note: ffs i didn’t make izuku’s gf feisty enough 😞

[softaestluv]

Breaking Bread

Simon Riley who is quite the anomaly of a man, or human, rather. Your lieutenant who’s only spoken a handful of words to you.

Simon Riley who happens to be sat at the only open table in the mess hall.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Sergeant! Reader

This chapter does contain smut. 18+ content only!

Tags: Short n’ Sweet, Fluff, Pining, Slow burn if you squint, Food as a love language, Eventual romance, Military inaccuracies, Hand feeding, Smut, Vaginal fingering, Pet names, Creampie, Dirty Talk

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5 | ao3 | masterlist

Usually, your leave goes by too quickly, as if you blinked and you found yourself on base again. Didn’t get enough sleep, didn’t stuff yourself full of enough expensive cuisine, didn’t see your friends long enough. Have to force yourself to drag your feet out of bed, into your car, and take the long trench back to a miserable occupation.

Except this time, it seems to drag; you can’t wait for it to come to an end. You don’t entirely know why, can’t seem to scratch the itch under your skin that only one person seems able to despite how mundane and insignificant the majority of your interactions have been.

So, you find yourself a little too eager to return, mind buzzing impatiently.

When you do finally see him, you practically swoon. Black cargo pants, black compress shirt, black balaclava makes you entirely too giddy. Feel entirely too guilty checking your lieutenant out, but you can’t help it when he’s ravaged your thoughts your entire leave. When you silently walk to his side, and he sees you after your bashful stare.

When you don’t look at him, don’t say anything; his deep voice comes. Melts over your body in warm strokes that has you biting your tongue to stop from smiling.

“Hi, dove.”

You look up at him, his eyes far too soft for a man of his reputation, “Hi, sir.”

You can tell he wants to say more, for the first time since the two of you have talked. Can tell from the way he stares at you, the way he leans a little closer to your frame.

But duty calls, sergeant’s yelling across the room, asking what they’re supposed to do next. You push on your tippy toes before he can get too distracted from you, press your lips as close as they can get to his ear.

“I have treats for you, come by my room after training?”

You smile at him sweetly when he nods eagerly. Laugh a little too loud when you hear him shout that training is over, cuts the day short just so he can follow slowly behind you to your room.

You perch the door open, wait for him to walk in. He’s been in your room countless times by now, examining your injuries with piercing eyes and soft hands, but not like this. From your own invite, the lack of a mission or injuries definitely blurs the lines of why he’s there, makes the air incredibly suffocating. Though, you continue like your throat isn’t tightening, chest beating far too loud.

“I didn’t mean end training now,” You tease, digging through the box you brought from home before displaying the Chantilly cake, “Made it for you yesterday before leaving; it’s not nearly as fresh as it should be, but I thought it would be better than the artificial food here.”

You peer up at him as he stares down at the cake in your palms. You’re not sure what the look in his eyes means, but he doesn’t say anything, makes you suck your lip between your teeth, nervously fidgeting from foot to foot.

“Do you want to try some?” You ask, embarrassed from the way your voice shakes, unsure if you made the right move to make him a fucking cake— should you just have brought him chocolate?

“Yes.”

“Okay, let me uh-“ You pause, realizing you didn’t think this entirely through, that you don’t have any utensils to cut the cake, “Ah, shit. I don’t have anything to cut it with.”

Ghost pulls a knife from a strap in his cargos, handing it to you without a second thought. It makes you chuckle softly, cutting a decadent cake with such a massive weapon, but it makes do. Quite fitting for the man you’re feeding.

Still, you feel a little stupid when you turn to him and tell him you don’t have a fork either. This doesn’t phase him; you watch him pull his gloves off in one quick move, pushing his balaclava up over his nose, and pick up the slice you cut with his bare hands. Takes a bite just like that, raspberry juice spilling over his fingers and knuckles.

You look at him wide-eyed, can’t really decipher the sight in front of you as reality. Not when he doesn’t stop until the whole piece is gone, vanilla cream frosting smeared over his lips and fingers. Stare dumbfounded as you watch him suck the cream from the pads of his fingers, moving lower to lick the raspberry juice from his knuckles.

“Do you want another piece?” You ask in shock.

He just nods, so you cut him another piece, watch the previous scene unfold in front of you a second time; the raspberries staining his fingers and lips red.

You offer him a third slice; you intended for him to have the whole cake, so you’re more than willing to give him every slice. He accepts, sits on your bed with a new slice, thighs spread wide.

“C’mere,” He says, two fingers beckoning you over to him.

You paddle over, of course, but not without hesitation, your mouth drying, nerves fluttering against your stomach. You stop in front of him, an arms length of distance between the two of you, but he tsks his tongue, not pleased with the distance. Pulls you between his thighs by your hip.

You gasp quietly in shock, your hands falling to his shoulders on instinct. Ghost acts like it’s normal, holds the cake to your lips like you’re not pressed so closely to him; your body shoved right up against the inside of his thighs. The two of you practically face to face even though he’s sitting and you’re standing.

You take a bite, try your best not to spill any of the berries between the two of you, but they land on his lap anyways. Maybe you should feel a little ashamed how he holds an item up to your mouth and you obediently swallow without a word said, but you can’t find it in yourself to really care.

The both of you take turns biting pieces of the cake until all that remains is the red juice staining his hands, white cream painted across his thumb, and raspberries in his lap. He sucks the frosting off his thumb— can’t help but feel a little remorseful that he doesn’t slip it into your mouth for you to lick clean.

You don’t offer another slice, and he doesn’t ask for one, don’t think you quite have it in you to push your way between his thighs again if you do. His palm is heavy on your hip, the air is heavy around the two of you. Seems to weigh you down, freezes the two of you in time. Though, his stare is thicker, penetrating, makes your fingers twitch on his shoulders.

“Made that just for me?” Ghost asks.

You nod, swiping your tongue over your lips like you’re trying to lick any remnants off, but really you’re just incredibly anxious. He grips your chin lightly, slowly pulls your face to his, and hovers your lips over his. Can feel his warm breath on your cheeks when he starts to whisper.

“Our little secret, dove?”

Your eyes flutter slightly at the tone of his voice, firm and rich, licks a searing warmth down your back. All you can muster is a another nod, don’t think you can do anything more with his strong grip on you.

Seals his lips over yours in one claiming swoop, fierce, possessive. Didn’t expect him to kiss you like this, breath stripped straight from your lungs over some cake. A Cake he tastes like, vanilla frosting and berries, sweet and tart. Causes you to lick into his mouth fervently, like you were trying to lick the taste clean.

It’s wet. Lewd smacking of saliva in the confines of your private quarters.

It’s hot. His mouth scorching against yours, burns the shape of his lips on your skin.

When the two of you separate you, you chase after his lips pathetically, think your knees might buckle under you. He seems to know, maybe it’s because your eyes are already half-lidded off one kiss or the way your chest is heaving, taking shallow breaths, but his large palm clutches the back of your thigh, thumb cupped under the curve of your ass.

His other hand dips under your shirt, spreads his touch on you wide and avaricious. Maybe you’re too eager, but your body is itching, stinging with a carnal desire. When it feels as if Ghost’s touch is the only thing that soothes your ache. So, even if you weren’t sure that he wanted more, you peel your shirt off hastily, drop it behind you without a care.

“No need to rush, sweeth’art,” He drawls, slowly.

“Wanted you for weeks,” You confess, struggling to unclasp your bra, “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

You’re not even ashamed of the desperation in your tone. You can’t go back now, it’s too late; you won’t continue to pretend. You let your lieutenant take without a word for months, let his talons hook into your flesh, and bury deep without recourse.

Ghost inhales deep when your bra finally drops, engulfs your breast in one hand. He’s seen almost every aspect of your body by now, traced his fingers over your injuries, but he’s never seen you like this, never touched you like this.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He breathes, closes his eyes to gather himself.

His touch is sticky on your skin from the raspberries, leaves red fruit stains on your hip and chest. Trails his fingers over the swell of your breast, brushing lightly over your nipple, pinches the bud between his thick fingers softly, eyes darting to yours when you exhale a quiet noise.

You squeeze your thighs together at the look in his eyes, dark and dilated. Makes your head spin as he consumes you whole with one look, arousal pooling thickly in your panties. Ellicit’s a squeak from your throat when he rolls the bud in his fingers, tugging at the sensitive bead. Repeats the motions on each nipple until you start to fidget impatiently, need more.

“G-Ghost,” You stammer.

“Hhm?” He hums, the hand just below the swell of your ass sliding up to finally squeeze the supple fat.

You don’t exactly know what to say, don’t want to sound too pathetic, so you start to unbuckle your pants. Hurriedly shoving the restricting material off your hips, standing in your panties in front of your lieutenant.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, dove,” Ghost groans, low and strained.

“Already said that, lieutenant,” You tease, but it doesn’t have any real gusto behind it, not when he turns you around swiftly, and palms both of your ass cheeks.

Your panties join the pile on the floor, the first article of clothing your lieutenant has peeled off you, but it leaves you completely naked and bare. Makes you acutely aware of the fact that nothing covers your most intimate parts while he sits there fully dressed when you feel the air on your cunt. When one thumb spreads your cheek wide, your wet folds revealed.

“Look’atcha,” He hums, approvingly, “Pretty little sergeant aren’t you?”

You stutter over a moan when he slides two fingers through your swollen folds, knuckles teasingly brushed against your clit. When he draws his hand back you almost whine in protest, but he pulls you flush in his lap, back pressed to his broad chest, and spreads your thighs wide over his. You decide you like this much better despite the warmth scalding down your entire chest when he leaves your cunt bare and displayed.

Ghost’s hand snakes down your chest, presses his fingers back to your drenched pussy. Two fingers dipping through your folds to gather the slick dripping from your entrance. Your head rolls back on to his shoulder, one arm bent to grasp at the back of his neck, the other digging indents into your thigh when he strokes against your clit.

You think you might be going crazy when he starts to rasp filthy into your ear, when your lieutenant has been so restrictive of his words before this— ‘Soaked f’me, dove, eager little thing you are.’

Each syllable practically goes straight to your clit, makes you hypersensitive, clenching around nothing. His words sting with embarrassment, but you don’t want him to stop, cling to every word like you’re afraid he’ll never speak again.

“Made me a sweet little cake,” He lilts against your ear, drawing firm shapes on your clit, “Wanted an excuse t’get me in yer room?”

“J-Just wanted to make you a treat,” You explain, and you’re not necessarily lying, you hadn’t fully planned for this to happen.

“Yeah?” He muses, withdrawing his hand from your clit, “So, you want me t’stop?”

Your protest is a little too pitiful, high-pitched as you clamber your grasp to his wrists to stop his movements. You’re immediately grateful for pushing his hand back down despite how desperate it makes you look when a thick finger catches on your rim, when he puts up no resistance as you slip it in your welcoming entrance.

You instantly melt against his chest, a pleased moan ricocheting off your bedroom walls when he takes back the reigns. You’re being too greedy over your lieutenant, as you always are, but he never seems to give you enough. Always leaves you with a yearning ache in his absence, so you think you deserve to be, let yourself succumb to the pleasure.

His hand is massive, covers your entire pussy with it, palm pressed to your clit. And his fingers are deft, skilled and focus from years as a sniper. Curls and spreads two fingers in your throbbing cunt, scratches at the fire that’s been burning viciously in your core for months.

It’s almost too overwhelming, choking on your mewls after a few determined strokes. You know you shouldn’t, that it’ll make your impending orgasm spill from your control, but you can’t help it; you’ll regret it later if you don’t.

You have to look.

So, you lift your head to peer down at your body perched on his lap. One meaty palm pinching your breast, a brawny arm banded over your hip, and two beefy fingers disappearing into your pussy. Covered in your expense, glistening in the dark of the room.

You want to burn the image to the insides of your eyelids; your lieutenant pinching, gripping, claiming your flesh. White seeps into the corner of your irises at the sight, fighting the insistent coil that tightens in your womb.

You nearly double over when he ruts his hips leisurely against your ass and you feel the shape of his bulge in his cargos. It makes you pant like a dog, grinding back down eagerly against the curve. He lets out a low groan at the sensation, and you feel it in fucking your toes, curled tightly as you clench around his fingers.

“Feel that?” He purrs in your ear— yeah, yeah you fucking do.

Emphasizes his words with another rut, “All ‘cause of you.”

“Ghost, I-I,” You start, but you’re not entirely sure what you mean to say, not exactly sure what you want.

But he seems to know what you need, curls his fingers just at the right angle, has a delicious feeling washing over you. It devours you, eyes blurring as you lose control of the seal, spilling your expense in Ghost’s palm with a quick jerk of your hips.

He doesn’t stop, his motions unyielding. Fingers you steady through your orgasm, gumming your walls and mind into mush until you’re trying to scramble out of his demanding grip with floundering legs and clawing fingers, whining that it’s too much.

“Sit still, dove,” He demands, but he doesn’t have any real bite to it, not like his commands during training, removes his fingers from your over sensitive walls.

You try your best to listen to your lieutenant, but it’s nearly impossible when your climax is still thrumming under your veins. Fidgeting anxiously when you hear the metal clanking of his belt, when his cock finally springs free between your thighs. It curves long and wide over your pussy, your mouth watering when you see the fat of his cockhead poke through the tips of your thighs.

You can’t even stop yourself from grinding your puffy folds over his length. Dragging your drenched pussy from his tip to shaft.

“Fuuuck,” He grits through his teeth.

Lays his hand on your hip, but he doesn’t stop you, lets you smear your slick over his cock earnestly. Maybe your mind is muddled from your previous orgasm, everything still a little too fuzzy, but you find yourself keening and mewling into the room. Snapping your hips over his girth over and over again like you’re actually riding him, his tip tugging at your sopping entrance with each drag.

You want it more than anything, clenching and weeping for more, but you can’t stop your rutting.

“Ghost, please,” You beg, because he has to be the one to do it, “Oh, please— need it.”

“Such a sweet girl,” He lifts you slightly, lines his tip with your aching hole, and slowly lowers you over his head, “I got you, don’t worry.

Your walls pop over the curve of his swollen head, and you think you might pass out from how tightly you’re holding your breath. You almost wish you were facing him or pressed into the sheets, so you could scratch at something. Grapple onto anything to ground yourself.

Ghost pets softly at your side, “Breathe, baby.”

And oh fuck.

You think you might’ve been able to if he hadn’t called you ‘baby’ so tenderly. You know he only means well, but the word practically sends you into a frenzy when your rugged and brute lieutenant is treating you so gently, so obscure compared to his usual stoicism.

It makes you slam your hips flush over his shaft, take him in one full swoop, pussy pressed against his pelvis. It’s not what he wanted you to do, you know that, but it rips a breath out of your lungs, makes you finally breathe like he told you to.

“Fuckin’ hell, dove,” He snarls, bruises his hold on your hips, “I didn’t mean like that.”

You really can’t say anything more, his grip so strong on you that you can’t move either, so you just lull your head against his shoulder, place your hand over his on your hip. He stays still for a few seconds, lets your pussy morph into the shape of his cock.

You’re appreciative of the fact; you get to focus on how massive he is, how full you feel. Gives you time to really feel the burn of the stretch, brings you back to reality of sorts.

But when he starts whispering sweet nothings into your ear again, your pussy starts to drip down his cock and pools on his balls. And he hasn’t even started to move yet.

“That eager, baby?” He teases, drawing shapes against your hip, “Need me t’fuck you tha’ bad?”

It almost hurts waiting for him to move, but when he finally does, grinds low and shallow against your cervix you’re utterly fucked— literally.

And his mouth just doesn’t stop.

“Oh, dove,” He grunts, “When’s the last time you fingered yourself? Grippin’ me like a lifeline.”

Each thrust is followed by a new sentence, a long drawl of his Manchester accent. You don’t say anything other than the desperate moans he fucks out of you, enjoy the cadence of his voice entirely too much to tell him to shut up even if his words are humiliating.

“Jesus, your cunts fuckin’ warm, sweeth’art.”

But when he really starts fucking you, shallow strokes become determined thrusts, firm and unwavering, his words start to slur a little, like he can’t stop babbling your praises.

“So sweet to me you know that? My sweet little sergeant,” He slurs, “Brings me little treats ‘n now you give me yer sweet little cunt, too?”

“Gh-host,” You hiccup over your words, as a second orgasm builds in your core.

“Need t’make you all mine now, huh?” He asks, but you’re sure it’s rhetorical because you already are.

You think you feel him in your cervix, splitting you and two and ripping you to shreds.

You know you can when his hand presses to your stomach, right where his cock kisses and laps at your womb, and he tells you to look.

“Oh— god. Ghost, I—I can’t,” You wail when you see your stomach bulge with his cock after each thrust.

“S’good, baby,” He praises, struggling to thrust deep when you keep clenching around him, “Feel s’good. S’pretty wrapped around me. Jesus, look at you.”

You start to try and push yourself off him when the fire in your core becomes cruel and ferocious, ruptures a stinging warmth that you can’t take anymore, but Ghost doesn’t let you get far, keeps a solid hold on your hips.

He’s telling you something, you’re sure, but you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. Not when he turns your face towards his and meet his dark irises. You lose yourself after that, your orgasm ruptures, explodes and reaches an absolute crescendo.

Ghosts follows suit shortly after, kisses your womb, and paints it a pretty picture. Fucks his cum into you with a few languid strokes, pussy squelching loudly with both of your desires drenched on each other. Makes you one.

The afterglow seems to drag, your body pulsing softly from an intense orgasm. Your limbs practically bricks, lax and molded against Ghost’s chest. Lightheaded and blissed when his large palms pet at your sides, kisses your shoulders and neck.

Turns you in his lap so you face him, blinking slowly at him like a cat before his lips stamp a soft kiss to your mouth. He noses along your jaw; it’s sweet, raw.

“Should’ve done that a long time ago,” He says, and you burst out laughing, nodding in agreement.

The two of you don’t go to dinner in the mess hall that night; instead, you bask in each other’s warmth, eat the rest of the Chantilly cake as your meal. Ghost feeds you the cake again, but this time you’re not hesitant to suck his thumb in your mouth, and lick the vanilla cream off. Though, it only results in you bent into the sheets, Ghosts chest thick and heavy against your back. The both of you stained in red smears and marks from the raspberries.

When the next day comes you feel a little bashful when a couple sergeant’s see your lieutenant leave your room. But you can’t seem to care for that matter when the two of you walk to the mess hall together. Eat breakfast together, like you do most days, and drink a cup of warm tea he made you for the first time since your leave.

Lunch and dinner go the same, except now he pulls you to the seat next to him rather than in front of him. Keeps a warm palm on you as you two eat in comfortable silence.

You don’t mind the silence, never really did, especially now that you can’t get him to shut up when he’s between your thighs.

Or when ‘Our little secret?’ becomes his way of asking for a kiss, pulls you from the hallway into a secluded room, back pressed against the wall, his large hand splayed beside your head. Nudges his knuckle under your chin before whispering it against your mouth, and stamping his lips on yours.

Shared tea time in the rec room takes place in either of your rooms now. Still share one cup of tea, still let him press it to your lips because he seems to like doing it. Though, you never really get much reading done when you end up under his larger frame because he can’t keep his hands off you for long.

Neither of you have to say goodbye after the tea or wish him a good night anymore when you stay with him, tangle yourself in his sheets instead.

Simon Riley who is quite the anomaly of a man, or human, rather, but one you understand just a little better now. Still a little rough around the edges, even with his pretty dove. A man of few words, but what he says is enough, what he does is even more.

[synvil]

if ur up for it maybe a smutty part 2 for the tiktok trend where reader doesnt say ily back? have a great day!!

say it back pt. 2 // bf! rafe cameron

a/n: my first request!! thank you anonnie! (☆´3｀) i hope you enjoy, even if it’s pretty short!

synopsis : rafe teaches you to think twice before playing a prank.

warnings : nsfw ahead! penetration, crying, spanking, cum swallowing, etc.

tiktok trends masterlist !

“screw that, i’ll spend the next couple hours pounding those three words into your damn mind so you won’t ‘forget’ again.”

“w-wai—“ ignoring your protests, you gasp when he suddenly brings his hands down to the waistband of your bottoms and rips them down your legs without hesitation. “rafe!”

rafe unbuckles his belt and lowers his slacks just low enough to let his already hardening erection spring free. at the sight of you backing up, trying to appease him by raising your hands defensively and explaining, rafe growls low and grips onto your ankle and drags you down the edge of the couch before flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips so your ass hung in the air.

and that’s how you spent the next hour, your face a teary, drooling mess as your cry out endlessly, your arms behind your back, wrists pinned together by rafe’s hand as he pounds into your pretty little pussy mercilessly, his other hand recording the sight.

“great, barry’s callin’. how should i explain to him for my absence, hm?” rafe condescendingly smirks as he waves his phone in your direction. “should i answer the call and let him hear the reason why?”

your breathing is ragged but you slur a weak, whimpered no, pleading for him to deny the call. “r-rafey.. ‘m sorry! please-“

rafe grunts, unamused at your apology as he tosses the phone onto the cushion beside your head, the device still vibrating due to barry’s calling. “too late. should’ve thought about the consequences, sweetheart.” rafe mocks, his hand delivering a sweet sounding smack across your cheeks as he thrust his hips deep against yours, making you moan loudly, your body trembling from the nth orgasm in the last hour.

rafe could feel his climax approaching, his own breathing becoming heavier as he groans out, feeling his hips pick up the pace.

“do you remember what you say to me, now?” you’re too exhausted and a blubbering sobbing mess, breasts and body shaking with every thrust he gives to register his words. upon no answer, rafe spanks you again making you cry out and jump. “i asked you a question, darling.”

“y-yes; i remember!”

rafe squeezes the flesh in his hand and he grins. “you gonna play that little joke on me again?”

“n-no, i promise- i won’t ever again.”

taking your words as genuine, rafe suddenly pulls out and pulls on your body to bring you to the ground and guides your head to his throbbing cock. “prove it. be a good girl and do your job.”

understanding what he needed, you fall to your knees and bring your lips to his tip and lick it, before fully wrapping your mouth around him and rafe hitches a breath.

his hand jerks himself for a few minutes before he slips a moan out of his lips and seconds later, his cum spurts into your mouth, you instinctively swallowing every drop.

he pants lightly before pulling out and crouching down, cupping your cheek lightly. “you alright, sweetheart?”

you sniffle, wiping your eyes free from your tears and you nod, looking up at him and he smiles softly, using his thumb to wipe any stray ones.

“i’m sorry if i went a little too rough, baby.” he murmurs and you shake your head. “i’m okay, rafey.”

“good. i love you, [name].”

“i love you more, rafe.”

a/n : not edited!! but thank you so much for the request anon, i hope you liked it and i apologize it’s so short!! feel free to request more <3

[written-in-knife]

Hi could I request headcanons for leona, malleus, ruggie,jamil and trey with a fem reader that's actually from their world (not yuu) and some years prior she was given a sort of blessing from someone that gives her like rapid regeneration so if she's hurt bad she heals almost same day BUT the catch being she's never told the boys this fact so maybe like one day they go somewhere or are in town and perhaps an animal or little kid is nearly hit by a car but she rushed out and grabbed them but ends up being run over instead. She's unconscious and injured for a moment but then slowly gets back up mostly fine and dandy

(This is so extra and specific sorry but thanks if you do write this🫶)

Blessed

Trey, Ruggie, Leona, Jamil, Malleus

Written with the idea of fem!reader, can be read as any gender, literal hurt/comfort, swearing, still pretty fluffy though

tw: graphic descriptions of injuries, getting hit by cars, and hit and runs

average 500 words per character

pt.1 :: pt.2

Don't be sorry, I love extra and specific! And, as we're already aware, I also love getting carried away with prompts lmaoo Side note, do y'all get notified when I post under your ask or should I start tagging the people who make requests?

Trey Clover

The two of you had gone to town to try out something, anything from that famous patisserie. You'd been trying to get something from there the last few months, always just missing it by two or three people in line. The last time the two of you had tried, Trey was actually the one they told that they were sold out. You agreed that you just had to go a little earlier, then there was no way you'd miss out. So, hand in hand, you and Trey left the campus at four in the morning, still not fully awake but determined to succeed this time. It wasn't a short walk to get to town, let alone the patisserie, but with it being so early in the morning you at least didn't have to worry about other people hindering your progress.

You were a few blocks out from finally getting to taste that greatness again, the sun barely kissing the horizon, when a cat darted out from an alley just ahead of you. Trey chuckled as it startled you, still too tired to expect the unexpected. You stopped to watch the cat for a second as it trotted into the road. If you hadn't been watching the cat, you wouldn't have seen the truck, headlights off and speeding down the street. You only thought about it for half a second before you let go of Trey's hand and sprinted towards the cat, not stopping when he shouted your name in panic. You scooped up the cat, protecting it with your body as the car impacted your back, and Trey watched as you disappeared underneath for a moment. The truck sped off, as if they had only hit a bump in the road, as Trey ran to you. He carefully flipped you over, the cat wiggling free of your arms and running off unharmed. His hands were shaking as he started a healing spell, trying to ignore how much blood there already was on the road, he had to try, you couldn't just... He had to try. He was surprised by how fast the healing spell was working, his own terror leading him to believe that he was just doing a really good job before your eyes shot open again. He stopped his spell, but your wounds kept closing, bones kept setting. You sat up with a groan, spitting out a few pebbles as you went.

"Is the cat okay...?" You asked groggily.

Trey just stared for a moment before he broke into laughter, tears of relief streaming down his face as he lunged forward to hold you in his arms. "Yeah... it's okay, sweetheart."

Ruggie Bucchi

The two of you went into town fairly often for dates. Specifically, you went to get free food. You were running out of places to run the scam, but how it would work is the two of you would go into separate restaurants, and sit there for awhile pretending that you were getting stood up. A good 80% of the time, the waitstaff would feel bad and comp your meals or give you a free dessert, you would ask for to go containers, then meet up on the beach for a picnic. Sometimes the picnic would only be two little cakes, but occasionally, you had full meals to share with each other.

Ruggie was waiting in the usual spot meet up spot, away from the restaurants. He'd managed to score one of your favorite pasta dishes from his half of the endeavor, and as you approached the opposite side of the street, he could see a smaller to go box in your hands. Dessert still meant it worked. He grinned at you as you waved for him, checking for cars. You swore you looked both ways, could've sworn there was no one coming. It happened so fast. One second you were jogging towards him, the next he was watching as you bounced along down the road, tires still squealing. You'd barely skidded to a stop when he made a break for you, dropping the box in his hands as he rushed to get to you. The second he dropped to his knees next to your broken body, the car backed up, then sped around the two of you to leave.

"HEY!" Ruggie shouted after it to no avail, whoever it was had no intention of sticking around, and he couldn't afford to go chasing after it. "Motherfucker...!"

He turned his focus back to you, hands hovering over the obviously broken bones and serious road rash and cuts that were oozing blood with every heartbeat, not wanting to hurt you. He had caught himself in a loop of thinking about picking you up off the road and not wanting to move you just in case, wanting to start a healing spell and thinking he should wait for professionals. He'd just dug his phone out when he heard a popping sound, then a groan, looking down to see your twisted limbs pulling themselves back together. He stared in awe, and a little horror, as your wounds began to close. Little rocks spitting themselves out of your road rash as you sat up, rubbing your back and looking like you were just uncomfortable and mildly inconvenienced. Then your head shot around, back to where you were initially hit, whining when you saw your to go box, partially ran over and spilled open on the pavement.

"Dammit," you grumbled as you yanked on your arm to guide your shoulder back into its socket, "they gave me that good cheesecake too!"

Ruggie just stared for a moment in disbelief before shouting, "YOU WERE JUST HIT BY A CAR AND THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE CONCERNED ABOUT?!"

"Yeah! It was the good caramel one from over by the docks!"

He sighed heavily, reaching forward to pull you into his arms. "We gotta talk about your priorities..."

Leona Kingscholar

It wasn't often that you were able to drag Leona off school grounds, you were lucky he couldn't say no to your professional pathetic puppy dog eyes. You were going to see a showing in the theater of a movie you'd adored as a kid, insisting to him that it was different to see it in the theater when he offered to just pick up a copy of it for you. He'd grumbled about it at first, but he actually stayed awake through the whole thing, even seeming to enjoy it by the end. You teased him about it a little as the two of you walked out of the theater, reveling in the way he smirked and pushed your face away from him to hide it.

Leona had his arm wrapped around your shoulders while you chatted about the movie, heading for the crosswalk when you heard a commotion behind you. Two kids, no older than eight, were coming out of the theater with their mom. The older of the two must've tripped, scraping his knee, and was crying on the sidewalk, the younger-- little, no older than five-- was laughing at his brother as he jumped up and down. Their mom's attention was focused on the injured boy as you heard the other yell that he would race them to the car. It was cute. You and Leona stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, when you saw movement out of the corner of your eye. You turned just in time to see the little boy darting out into the road, just far enough from you to avoid your initial grab. It didn't take much to extract yourself from Leona's hold and spring forward, Leona snapping your name as you ran after the boy and into oncoming traffic. And it was oncoming. You managed to snatch the boy by the collar just in front of a car that had already slammed on the brakes but was far too close, spinning to toss him back the way he came. The boy slammed into Leona's legs just as the car hit you, sending you flying into the intersection. He'd heard your bones snap when you were hit, he knew you weren't okay, face down in the middle of the intersection. But first...

He grabbed the boy by the collar you'd pulled to save him, pulling him to his feet and crouching down to his level, glaring daggers into his crying face. "Get back to your mother." He growled low in his chest. "Now!"

The boy wailed as he sprinted back towards the theater, but Leona didn't give him a second glance as he ran to you. The owner of the car was already there, on the phone with the emergency services, and was unceremoniously shoved out of the way when Leona approached. He knelt next to you, running a hand lightly over your hair as he took note of everything that was broken. Too much. Anything was too much in his eyes when it came to you. He didn't like that he could see your leg bone, he didn't like that he could smell the overwhelming iron of your blood on the sun baked pavement, he didn't like how little you were moving.

"You'll be alright." He muttered, leaning down to your ear, unsure if he was reassuring himself or you.

"Yeah, give it a second." You agreed, making him snap back upright as he wasn't expecting a response, let alone one that sounded so nonchalant.

While he was reeling from his own whiplash, he could hear the creaking and popping as your bones slid back into place, and he grimaced as he watched your exposed leg bone slide back under your skin. Then your skin began to pull closed, intense injuries disappearing in mere moments until all that was left were pink scars and the damage to your clothes. You sat back up, shaking your arms out and grabbing your jaw, popping it back into place like it happened every day. Once you looked like nothing had happened, Leona reached over and swatted you upside the head.

"The fuck was that?!" He snapped as you rubbed at the spot he hit.

"What, was I supposed to let the kid get hit by the car?" You shot back with a smirk.

He growled, but said nothing, rolling his eyes as he sat back on his hands. You could see the relief in his posture, even if he didn't express it with words. Good luck trying to get him to come to town again.

Jamil Viper

Jamil needed a day off, even if he wouldn't admit it. You bribed some Scarabia members to watch after Kalim for one evening, making sure he didn't die while you stole Jamil away for a date night in town. He griped about it at first, of course, worried Kalim would do something stupid while he was gone. But it was just a few hours with his favorite person, he could put Kalim on a back burner for once. The two of you had been talking about trying a new restaurant in town that served dishes from the Scalding Sands, and you were excited to see if they could match up to Jamil.

You were laughing as you left the restaurant, Jamil holding your hand and giving you his honest critic as you headed back towards the campus. "It was fine," immediately followed by everything they did wrong in a brutally honest fashion, ending with "but it was fine." You knew he was embellishing for your sake, he liked to find ways to make you laugh. You squeezed his hand, telling him that next time you'd stick to tried and tested places. He liked the idea of next time, especially with the usual daily chaos so far away. Not wanting to head back just yet, he pulled you along a different route, explaining that he'd heard about an ice cream parlor nearby that might make up for the dinner. You knew the real reason, but just followed along with a smile.

You were crossing the street when someone blew a red light, the car barrelling towards the two of you. You didn't think, you just shoved Jamil out of the way before the impact. He didn't see it happen, having tumbled to the ground when you shoved him. When he looked back, the car was nowhere to be seen, and you were a little further up the road laying motionless. He was quick to pull himself back up, nearly tripping over his feet as he made his way over to you. You must've gone under the wheels, both legs crushed in a way that nearly made him sick. He dug his shaking fingers into the fabric of your shirt, resisting the urge to pull you up and into his lap. He knew plenty of healing spells, he had to with his lifestyle. Why couldn't he remember any of them? He bit his tongue to bleeding as he just sat there, silent tears dripping off his face. He felt like he couldn't move, not that he wanted to. Then you did. It was slow at first, if he didn't have his hands on your torso, he wouldn't have noticed the way your ribs slotted back into place. Still frozen, he watched as your legs squirmed unnaturally, listening to you groan in discomfort as the crushed areas reformed. You still had some blood on your face as you pushed yourself back up, giving him a worried look as he let go of your shirt in a daze.

"Jamil, are you okay?" You asked quickly, twisting around to face him fully, cupping his cheeks as gently as you could. "Are you hurt?"

He didn't move. For a lot longer than you maybe should have, the two of you sat in the road as you checked him over for injuries. Finding none but the light scrapes on his arms, you focused back on his face.

"Never do that again." He finally muttered, grabbing your arms and holding on like you were about to disappear. "Don't ever do that again."

Malleus Draconia

Malleus had always been able to sense some sort of blessing on you. It wasn't uncommon for members of Diasomnia to be blessed by the fae before arriving at NRC, so he never thought to ask about it. Looking back, maybe he should have.

He wasn't with you when it happened. It never would've happened in the first place if he'd been there. Lilia got a call from one of your friends saying that you'd been hit by a car in town, and that Malleus needed to get there as fast as he could. He was gone the second Lilia finished telling him where you were. He only got to see your broken body laying in the road for the briefest moment before your eyes shot open and you sat up, your friend screaming in terror. It didn't take him long to connect the dots as he approached you, watching as you maneuvered your broken arm back into the correct position for the bones to reattach, large wounds from sliding along the road already starting to stitch themselves closed before his eyes. A blessing of protection, then... He sighed heavily in relief before crouching down next to you.

"Are you alright, beloved?" He asked with a small smile as you cracked your neck with a satisfied groan.

"I've been better." You huffed, taking his offered hand and letting him help you up. "You don't seem surprised."

"It is no surprise to me that someone would want to bless you. You may want to explain it to your friend, however."

The two of you looked over to your friend, who was still standing there, mouth agape and staring at you in horror. You laughed and squeezed Malleus's hand before going over to them to explain the situation. It was comforting to know someone had blessed you in such a way that you could not be hurt for long, but he knew the sight of you broken in the middle of the road would haunt him for years to come. One more blessing couldn't hurt, right?

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE MY WORK TO TRAIN AI

MASTERLIST

[michellesneptune]

HOW THE MOON SIGNS ACT WHEN THEY LOVE YOU pt. 2

cancer moon/4h

ultimate cuddlers!!!

this is really biased and feral but i feel like people are here for the tea??

although i think they can be extremely sweet and loving, my opinion remains the same: not all cancers are to be trusted. i think it’s heavenly to be in their good graces, but i also feel like the closer you get, the harder it becomes to be genuinely accepted by them. that is, of course, if they don’t see you as fully deserving of their love. i have yet to be in a relationship with a cancer sun/moon that gives me their full trust. i always feel like they’re frugal with their love towards me. their intentions seem a little hmmm unclear? like they will not speak up about something they don’t accept about you but slowly, in their hearts, they turn away from you??

i am of course speaking solely from my experience. moon is at home in cancer, embodying the archetype of Demeter — the goddess of fertility. when Demeter gets back her beloved daughter, she blesses the whole earth with months of fertile spring. however, when things don’t go her way and Persephone returns to Hades, everyone has to suffer from her sadness during the barren winter months.

if they perceive you as a really worthy partner, they will spoil you with affection. nevertheless, i’d rather not get the short end of their stick!

leo moon/5h

leos have this innate need to feel proud of their lovers. potential partners should possess the it factor about them, da special sparkle. this also applies to their friends! it makes sense, as the sun in them shines so bright, they want their people to illuminate as brightly.

i believe their standards are even higher than virgos’ or capricorns’ and it’s not talked about enough! leos will not engage with just anyone! they have this splash of royalty in them, they can sense a weak self-esteem from a mile.

they want to be able to talk and talk and boast about you. and they want you to make them feel like the only girl in the world.

but here’s the clue. if they feel like you’ve become too boring, their loyalty won’t let them break up with you but slowly the flames stop burning. i’ve seen this happen in a leo moon-taurus moon relationship which makes sense, as taurus prefers persistent, daily acts of service that build a steady, reliable love over time, whereas leo lives for the drama, for the promise of an eternal love, big displays of affection, achieving greatness together.

i’m so sorry if this sounds harsh. i find leo placements to be lovely, all the people i hold dearest to me have them (it’s my descendant sign!). they’re so so open and warm, nearly everything is easy with them.

scorpio moon/8h

i need a scorpio moon friend right. now.

they seem like small, adorable babies who will give up everything for the true, devoted love. their feelings’ depth knows no bounds. extremely loyal, obsessive in the best way possible, what they seek in the other person is a safe haven to hide all their emotions in.

they’re portrayed as very secretive and closed off, even manipulative, but inside they are dying to show somebody their real self. because yeah, behind the darkness there is a small sleepy kitten i feel like.

also here’s the thing: they didn’t choose the darkness, it chose them. their intensity is draining for you, but it’s them who have to deal with it non stop. their emotions are turbulent and it’s often hard to be peaceful, but if you’re willing to accept them as they are and share your own darkest vulnerabilities, they’re yours forever.

aquarius moon/11h

these natives are the best of friends that you could ever wish for! they’re extremely invested in their friend groups, always making sure to initiate contact and check in. they need this as much as they need to breathe and eat! as we know, aquarius is traditionally ruled by saturn, so maybe that’s why they act like glue, keeping their friendships alive, not letting the bonds fall apart as they often sadly do without proper nourishing!

in this situation though, a hierarchy is formed and, sorry to inform the hoes, you come after bros :((.

these guys can be so unpredictable with their feelings i guess there’s no formula on how to get them. i would say befriend them first and then be eccentric enough to still spark the electric interest, the one that they seek in potential partners.

what’s worth noting is the fact that aquarius is a fixed sign, so whatever their quirks may be, they ultimately are loyal and devoted. they are a great paradox and even if they seem detached, they pay attention to their surroundings. whom they need is a persona as big as theirs, someone that shares their passion for the world and everything it has to offer, preferably concerned with big ideas and humanitarian causes. they notice magic in the mundane so their spouse needs to be special as well! when they find you and you find them, you become their person.

the bond they create with lovers might seem unusual to those of more traditional views. aquarius natives need their time away and a lot of solo time to detach and recharge. however, in turn, they will blow your mind with extraordinary thoughts and you will never look at life the same!

[dorealis]

Series Title: Pound of Flesh

<-pt.1 pt.2 pt.3->

Summary: Simon has always wanted something soft to call his. The problem is that he's always had issues with women. When he stumbles across a dark website that traffics people, he knows he should tell someone. But that thought goes out the window when he sees her.

Content Warning: non-con. Reader is a trafficking victim. Stockholm Syndrome. Simon is not a good man here.

Simon is almost certain that his Lovie hates him. She cries a lot and shies away from him. She won't look at him, and she has picked up the habit of screaming bloody murder when he touches her. He knows it must be scary being ripped away from everything and everyone that she knows. He chalks it up to it being a symptom of homesickness. Maybe she's just scared and her feelings are too big for her.

No matter. He can relate. He too has been a victim of feelings that are too big for his own body. He wants her to want to be near him. Wants her to seek him out on her own. So he turns the heat completely off in his home. He's been in freezing temperatures before, dealt with frost bite, shivering bones and harsh angles since his childhood. When he breathes, nothing but frost expells from his lungs. He's always known cold, ice even, and is comfortable with the numbness that accompanies it.

His Lovie, unfortunately, is not acclimated to such harshness.

She's shivering and the thin and short tee-shirt he gave her only stops just below her chest. Arms wrapped around herself, trying to self soothe or keep warm. He thinks it's cute, precious how she rocks back and forth. He has her perched on the couch, and he sits down next to her, legs spread out so that his thigh touches hers. The flinch she gives off melts into another shiver.

"Simon...I'm cold." Her teeth chatters on her words. Those sweet and dangerously attractive doe eyes get turned to him. "Can I at least put on pants?"

"Did you earn the privilege of pants?" He says to her. "You've been on your worst behavior all day."

She doesn't say anything and just rubs her arms. Tears, his second favorite part of her, spring into her eyes. He loves when she cries, it does something to him. The sight stirs the blood in him and makes his cock hard and already he can feel himself chubbing at the sheer thought of tasting her tears. He prompts her to answer with a raised brow.

"No sir...I haven't." She whimpers.

"What are you willing to do to earn your warmth?"

Her eyes widen in shock. Body trembles as she forces out her next question, "I don't understand."

He chuckles and pulls her into his lap, another thing he likes to do. He enjoys just moving his Lovie whenever he wants, however he wants. She naturally fights him and stills like a deer in headlights when she feels his cock pressed against her. He watches her breathing pick up, her chest heaving hard, on the verge of panic.

"You're such a little dummy." He kisses her temple and the grips the back of her neck. "It's okay, I normally hate having to explain things, I do that all day at work." He nips at her earlobe and she draws in a sharp gasp, she squirms. "You just have to be trained is all. The more you love on me, the more I will give you."

She stares into his eyes, horror etched on to her face. She's weighing her options, he can see it in how she shifts her eyes away from him. "You- you promise?" Such a small and sweet voice. Everything about her sweet and he could eat her alive. Swallow her whole, crack her bones wide open and drink the marrow. Consume her, devour her, infuse her soul into his.

She doesn't know it but yet, but he is utterly enchanted by her. In love with her since the day he saw her photo on that site. Enamored by the way the camera had caught her in just the right light, her hair a halo on her head, smile brighter than the sun itself. When he reached out about her that night in the world's most shadiest chat room, he was given a price and asked if he wanted her delivered or if he wanted her corralled for him to hunt. He obviously chose to hunt her, all he had to do was give the preferred venue and everything would be set into motion.

"Will I get to have pants and a blanket?" She asked him, pulling him from his thoughts, "I'm cold."

"This isn't a two for one sale Lovie." He glances down at her chest and see her nipples are hard and poking through the fabric.

Lovie takes a deep breath and she places her soft hands on his cheeks. She's crying again, but it's not the hysterical crying, it's the adorable silent type. With a lick to her lips, she leans in, eyes sliding shut and presses her lips to his. It's the first kiss she initiates, and it makes Simon's heart skip a beat. The kiss is gentle and a bit clumsy, and he loves it. His hands drift down to her hips and gives them a squeeze in encouragement.

But it's not enough. The sick monster in him is growling. Maw opening in a twisted stretch, itching to snatch more than what his sweet Lovie is giving him. He holds back though and tries his best to kiss her back in the same fashion. He isn't sweet, he's more like vinegar that's soured, and he's surprised that she hasn't jumped back in disgust. All too soon she pulls away and looks pleading.

"What does that get me?"

He smiles, "It gets you shorts."

She closes her eyes and slowly trails her hands down the plains of his chest towards the drawstrings of his sweats. He watches the fine tremble of her hands. His Lovie is so shy, meek, it's a wonder she lasted so long in life without him.

"Your mouth gets you pants. Cunt will get you a blanket. So both and you get both. Your ass gets the heat turned back on for the night." He explains as she pulls his cock out and holds it. There's already pre-cum pearling at the tip and he's enjoying how he feels in a hand that has never known hardship. "Well Lovie?"

She slips off of him, settling between his legs, and moves to place her lips on the red and rudy tip of his cock. He grips her jaw though and gives her stern look, "You bite and I break your jaw." He smiles sweetly at her but it comes off menacing.

Lovie nods once and kisses the tip before sliding her mouth onto him. He knows it must be uncomfortable for her jaw, the stretch too much. But the inside of her mouth is warm and wet, almost as good as her cunt. He sighs and places his hand on top of her head and encourages her to take more into her mouth. She does her best, the soft sound of her choking makes him groan.

"You're okay Lovie, you're doing fine." He restrains himself from fucking up into her mouth. He imagines breaching her throat and feeling her panic and jerk trying to breathe. Sucking in a sharp breath, he relaxes as her hand squeezes the base of his cock lightly. It makes him shiver in anticipation.

Lovie pulls back and plunges herself down again and he helps along, finding a rhythm that he likes and that she can maintain. Watching his love, his girl pleasure him through lidded eyes almost makes him blush. The way she sucks and her cheeks pucker up on each pull, makes him twitch. Her spit begins to drip out of the corners of her mouth and it's a bit messy and he likes it. Without warning he bucks his hip and she gags trying to pull away.

"Look at me sweetie." He rasps. He wants to see her eyes, and Jesus fuck. With the angle she looks up at him, the dried tear tracks on her face and her still watery eyes, he loses his patience. She yelps when he grips her hair tightly and yanks her off. He's on his feet and shoving his cock harshly back into her mouth. Panicked hands swat at his thighs as he forces all of him down her throat. It's just as he though it would be.

Tight. Warm. Euphoric.

He fucks her mouth like it's her cunt. Suffocating her when his wiry hairs meet with her nose. She's crying again, fat crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks. When she clamps her eyes shut, he jostled her head.

"Eyes open, look at me." He pants out. She complies and it's everything he didn't know he needed. "Fuck, good Lovie, good girl."

There's vibration in the back of her throat from the muffled crying. The tip of his cock feels it and that sensation zips and zaps up his spine. It's going to Pavlov him into getting hard whenever she cries and it's really her fault. It will be her fault when every little thing she does makes him insatiable.

But it'll be a feedback loop.

He'll train her, her mind, and her body, to crave him just as much. Every little need she has, will be linked intrinsically to him. She wants to be warm? She will look for him for warmth. She wants a little bit of comfort? Her first instinct will be to present herself to him like a bitch in heat. She wants something that he considers to be a luxury and a privilege? She will be wet and dripping at the thought of doing whatever to have it.

Simon can't wait, and he knows he's going right to hell for this, but he's ecstatic for when she wants comfort and love. When she wants that she will seek him out.

Lovie gags and whimpers as he pistons out of her mouth. His pace is feverish as he squints down at her through his lust induced haze. She looks like an absolute doll like this. Her slaps against his thighs have lessened and she grips onto the fabric of his sweats tightly. Desperate to hold on, and the sound of her struggling to breath even through her nose is too precious. He has her very being in his hands and it makes his need for control thrum wit satisfaction.

"Oh Lovie, my sweet Lovie, youre too sweet to me." He grunts and shoves his cock impossibly far down her throat. She won't taste his cum this way but he doesn't mind. There will be other times for her to savor the taste of him, to memorize it. He feels her throat and body tensing as he cums. The pure idea of all of his spend collecting in her stomach makes him twitch. He grinds his hips into her face, basking in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He guides her mouth off of him carefully. She coughs and breathes deeply, trying to get as much air into her lungs as possible. She sniffles and stares up at him, the look is pure heaven. She seems as if she's ashamed of her actions. He can't let her feel that way.

"Oh Lovie, you sweet sweet thing." He wipes some of the drool from her lip. "You did such a good job."

Her voice is raw, "Can I have my pants now?"

"Sure Lovie." He said as he put himself away, his mind already thinking about what elese he withhold from her. He takes off his sweats and offers them to her. She tries not to scrunch her face up in disgust, but she takes them.

"Thank you." She ties the drawstrings tightly.

"Oh my lil' Lovie. I'll always give you the clothes off my back. You need only ask."

[nomoredying]

the voice pt.2

listener!sevika x radio host!reader

concussion recovery, mutual pining, they’re soft, i was not planning on writing part 2 but here we are 🫡 this is much shorter pt 1

the hospital doesn’t smell like antiseptic. it smells like overripe flowers and plastic and air conditioning. not comforting. not awful either. j

sevika asks for your room, flashes her id without really needing to, waits in an elevator that makes a low whining noise the whole way up. she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing here. but she’s here.

room 417. she knocks, once, then pushes the door open slow.

you’re sitting up in bed, one leg under the blanket, one dangling lazily off the side. there’s a small plastic cup of vanilla ice cream in your hand. your hair is a mess. the tv is muted. your eyes, when you see her, your eyes go wide — then confused — then you blink and say, still holding your spoon halfway to your mouth:

“not the way i wanted you to see me again,”

your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been asleep all day. it’s the same voice she’s been hearing for weeks now. not that you know that.

sevika closes the door behind her. steps in.

you tilt your head. “you’re the woman from the restaurant, right? i— did we talk?”

“not really,” sevika says. “you gave me a sketch. with your number,”

that makes you snort — short, amused. “yeah, that sounds like something i’d do,” you put the spoon down. “sorry, i’m a little… scrambled. head’s fuzzy. doctor says mild concussion. mood swings, weird memory gaps, all part of the package,”

“figured,” sevika says, and steps closer. pulls something from her coat pocket. a paper bag. she sets it down on the little table by your bed. then she sits on the chair by the window.

“what’s this?”

“some pastries. nothing special,”

you stare at the bag like it might explode. “you brought me pastries?”

“i didn’t want to show up empty-handed,”

you smile. slow, crooked, a little suspicious. “you didn’t have to show up at all,”

“yeah, well,”

you reach for the bag. pull it open carefully, like it’s a ritual. she watches you. you glance up at her with that same expression — unreadable, but soft.

“i should be weirded out,” you say. “we don’t even know each other,”

“you drew me,” sevika says.

“i draw lots of people.”

“you gave me your number.” she raises an eyebrow.

“i give it to fewer,” you pause,” “so what’s your name?” you ask.

she tells you.

you nod slowly, “sevika,” repeat it just to see how it tastes,” you’re not like i imagined,”

“how’d you imagine me?”

you shrug, wincing slightly. head tilt. “less… visiting-in-hospital-and-bringing-pastries, more… broody and hot serial killer?”

sevika huffs a laugh. “you’re not the first,” 

you look like you want to say something, but frown and rub at your temple.

“ugh. i hate this. sometimes it’s like my thoughts are sticky. like they start, but they don’t finish,” 

she doesn’t say anything.

you look up. suddenly, sharply. “i’m not crazy, okay?”

“i didn’t say that,”

“but you thought it. not everyday you get hit by a car,” you continue, muttering.

“i didn’t,” sevika says, calm. “you’ve been through shit. brain’s still catching up.”

you breathe. slow, “i wasn’t— i’m not supposed to be here. you know? he was moving so fast," you clenched your jaw, “and i saw him. i could have moved away. but i didn’t. i wasn’t in shock, i just—“ your voice cracks on that last part. like it surprises even you.

sevika’s hand twitches, like she wants to reach to hold you, but instead she says, “you’re here now,”

you snort again. watery. “not sure that’s a good thing,”

“i am,”

you glance at her. eyes glossy, brows tight. and something else. shame, because you’re pouring your heart out to someone who was a total stranger an hour ago? but you do that on radio too. to a crowd of strangers. anger, because this woman acts as if she knows you? hope, because you feel like she really does?

but you don’t question it.

you just pick your spoon back up and eat another bite of melted strawberry ice cream like nothing just happened.

⚢ ⚢ ⚢

wednesday, 14:00. 

the office looks the same. fake lemon scent, fabric walls, quiet click of a clock that sevika swears is a form of passive torture. she sits on the edge of the couch like usual. arms crossed. face flat.

the therapist — dark cardigan, ankle-length skirt, expression halfway between concern and curiosity — crosses one leg over the other and folds her hands in her lap.

“you’ve been sleeping even better,” she says after a pause.

sevika doesn’t answer.

the therapist continues. “i can see it in your posture,”

“maybe i bought a better mattress,” sevika mutters.

“you didn’t,” a smile, annoyingly gentle. “did someone help?” 

a flicker in sevika’s jaw. “what difference does it make?”

“you’re letting someone in. just a little. it matters,”

“don’t push it,” sevika says flatly.

therapist hums, makes a note. doesn’t press, “who is she?”

“i didn’t say it’s a ‘she’.”

“isn’t it?” silence.

the rest of the session goes as expected — vague non-answers, long pauses, a few accidental admissions. the clock ticks until 14:50.

“you came in here angry at the world. now you’re just irritated with me. it’s an improvement,” therapist says as sevika gets up.

sevika scowls. grabs her jacket and leaves without another word.

⚢ ⚢ ⚢

you’re in bed again the next day. not as pale, not as tired. your hair is tied back this time. you’re sketching on the back of some envelope, chewing on a straw.

“you came back,” you say. sevika sits without answering. “should i be flattered?”

you talk for an hour. or maybe more. you tell her about the car. the guy who hit you. how he was drunk and swerving and your brother is handling the legal part, as usual.

that must be the man who picked up the phone the night sevika called you.

you sigh. “he’s good at cleaning up my messes.”

you don’t mean to tell her about the show — but it slips out eventually.

“and there’s this radio thing,” you say, tracing lines on your sketch, “midnight voice. i run it. i mean, ran. taking a break now.”

“really?” she lifts a brow, surprised. pretending to be surprised, to be exactly. 

“what?”

“you don’t strike me as the… dreamy, late-night monologue type,” 

“i like quiet things,” you smile down your paper, hiding your face. you don’t see that she’s smiling too.

⚢ ⚢ ⚢

the day of your discharge the room smells like mint and hospital linen. your brother stands by the window, checking emails on his phone.

you’re dressed simple, but much nicer than that ugly hospital gown — jeans, soft sweater, sneakers that still look a little too stiff after weeks in bed. bag already packed.

sevika steps into the room.

your eyes find hers instantly.

your brother lifts his head, sees her, and raises a brow. he turns to you, and you nod, “i’ll give you two a minute,” he says, shutting his laptop with a snap. he walks out, closing the door behind him without comment.

you look at sevika.

“so,” you say. “i’m officially released back into the wild,”

“guess i should warn the city,” she mutters.

you smile. step closer. then closer still.

and kiss her. slowly. no rush. no hesitation.

her hands are on your hips before the second breath. she kisses like someone trying to memorize a language she hasn’t spoken in years.

you pull back eventually. breathless. flushed.

“now that i’m recovered,” you murmur against her mouth, “i’m taking you out,”

she exhales a quiet laugh. eyes half-lidded.

“you’re impossible,” 

you wink at her, take your bag and turn to leave.

then, quietly, almost as an afterthought: “and i know you wrote me that letter.”

sevika doesn’t blink.

tags: @riotstemple29 @possessedmagpie

[kiztae]

raindrops ― s.jaeyun

genre: fluff, very suggestive, boyfriend trope

wc: 1.2k

warnings: f.reader, making out ( alot), dry humping, slightly sub! or switch!jake, praise, neediness.

summary: it's cold, it's raining, you and your boyfriend like each other way too much and know just how to feel warmer admist this rainy weather.

a/n: this is pretty short, i had an impulse to write after seeing this jake concept pic and this was what came out. i could possibly write a pt. 2, if you'd like ◡̈ . i also wanted to post after ghosting this account for so long. i hope you enjoy! (ps. jake is dangerously pretty, get this man under control.)

"but it's so cold!" he whined playfully.

small droplets of water were pouring over your window as you laid down, each of your body's temperatures radiating against the other, serving as the best source of warmth in the middle of this chilly rain night.

"you're being such a baby. a cute one, but a baby." you chuckle in response, your hands tracing soft circles over your boyfriend's t-shirt covered back. "just for a little while! come on."

were you being unproductive? maybe. did it matter? no. your exams were finally over and you had spent the last days catching up on anything that was not related to your studies (thank god).

when you first tried to move your icy hands under jake's t-shirt and onto his wide back you were met with a quick yelp and a tug away from him as he whisper-shouted a "woah!" in amazement.

you both giggled it off but he made sure to grab your hands in his and kiss them gently while he cuddled you even more tightly (which seemed impossible before) as the sweet loving boyfriend he was. the same sweet loving boyfriend who while doing so prohibited you from repeating your past try for a warm up.

"i like you so much, but that is so not happening." he stared at you with a smile and then a playful squint of his eyes as he reached back for your waist to push you further against him, closing his eyes briefly while he hid his face in the crook of neck. "i can keep you warm enough like this." he muffled.

"oh please, that's just an excuse to get closer to my chest. don't think i don't know you well enough, sim." you rolled your eyes with a brief giggle and then moved one hand to his hair and started to play with it softly, admiring your boyfriend's pretty features in awe.

"hah, maybe." he replied with amusement. if you thought you liked your boyfriend too much, he was entirely drunk on you. he took in your scent, your skin against his, all of you with such intent, almost as if you were surreal and just an illusion. you were perfect. if he could, he'd chew you up.

"mm, maybe you should keep me warm like this." you sighed with satisfaction as you curled your finger on his hair with a bit more strength, earning the cutest reaction from your boyfriend, a shaky breath and his hazy eyes staring up at you.

"yeah?" he smiled, his excitement being obvious but you loved it just like that. you both always took care of each other, these moments were your favorite.

"yeah." you hooked a handful of his hair in your hand and carefully brought him up to your face with enough force to make him breathe out from the pull but not hurt him, at least not for now.

"you're so perfect." he managed to let out quietly before he smashed his lips on yours impatiently. as always, his lips felt so plush against yours, even with the almost insatiable way in which he was kissing you, he made it feel soft. his mouth quickly started to devour yours once you slightly parted it open for him, your breath getting caught in your chest with how hot you were starting to feel. you could feel his tongue brush against yours, the palm of his hand caress your cheeks, all while he grasped you so intently.

he could never get tired of kissing you. he was pretty sure it was one of his most favorite things to do, no matter the time or place. if he could have you, be with you, he would do so.

"mnf― jake―" you spoke breathlessly, your mind now lost on him and barely able to speak a few words. you don't know why you even tried to say something when you already know just how heated you both get once you start.

"babe? ha― you good?" he muttered out without really stopping to pepper you with kisses, his hands now starting to roam your body, grabbing whatever he could with pure need.

"mhm― yeah, so good." your arms wrapped themselves around his neck in a sweet embrace. the boy quickly nodded with a tiny chuckle of satisfaction, moving his hands further down to start groping your ass, filling his hands with it.

"you're so hot. god―" without even pronouncing the end of his sentence clearly, his mouth was on yours again. it was like he was eating you up, like a starved man. with his hands on your ass, he managed to start pressing you against his hardening crotch, pushing against you almost in a desperate way. "you're warm now, every inch of your skin..." he grasped your thigh with a certain force that made you whine into him, your arms closing in on him even more. his whispers between kisses and his straight up fondling of you made your actions get gradually sloppy with how good it felt to have him on top of you.

"jake― faster." you whined while one of your hands reached for his hair again, aware of much it riled him up. you weren't sure how but you already felt like you were on fire, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap any moment with the way your boyfriend's hips pushed against your center so well.

"whatever you need― fuck, i'm close. i'm sorr―" before he could even try to finish that sentence, you shut him up quickly with a colliding of your lips on his, not wanting to hear anything like an apology right now. he was just so sweet, he wanted to make you feel so good, could you really blame him?

you both could not help the constant airy gasps between kisses, your bed starting to shake in sync with jake, both of you too lost in the moment to care about anything other than giving each other pleasure.

he went to grab your waist with one hand, placing the other against the back of your head to keep you both close to each other, neither of your mouths wanting to separate. it wasn't anything new, you both knew just much you needed to feel each other's lips on yours, loving to taste each other. to eat each other up, to your last breaths.

with a few last grinds of your boyfriend's hips on yours, you both moaned into each other's mouths while your highs took you over the edge, your breaths echoing around the room with rhythm.

"i am... definitely not cold anymore." he chuckled while he pressed his forehead against yours and placed a few strands of your hair behind your ear carefully.

"yeah? so i can finally get my cold hands under your shirt?" you ask while being unable to help your cheeky grin as you still tried to catch your breath.

"oh. that was not what i was saying― y/n!―" before he could finish talking, you had already jumped the boy and swept your chilly hands on his back while you both laughed and he tried his best to wiggle himself out of your grasp.

-

© kiztae, 2024

[loveesiren]

Baby Daddy (Pt. 1)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/n: Wrote this a while back and got a lot of requests for a part 2 so I will post it as well! Along with a blurb I've written. Never really planned to make this a series but if you guys want more just let me know! :)

Warnings: Light smut, language, cocaine, angst, pregnancy, mention of abortion, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rafe thrusted into you one final time before finishing. Cumming deep inside of you for the fourth time tonight. "Fuckkkkk," He moaned before pulling out of you and laying on his back. "You're so fucking tight."

"Yep," You said dryly as you pulled your panties and shorts back on.

"Where are you going?" Rafe asked as he turned to look at you.

"Uhhh, home?" You tell him. "Why would I stay?"

"Whatever," Rafe said before rolling over and pouring a line of coke out on his night stand.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your bag before leaving his room and storming through the house out the front door.

The walk home was boring. You put your headphones in and slowly danced your way back to the Chateau. As you did every fucking night.

After your mom split and John B's dad went missing you were John B's legal guardian. You were step siblings but his dad raised you when your mom left and for that you were forever grateful. Even though you were a little older, you were really close with John B and his friends. You guys did everything together. Told eachother everything. Except for this.

You'd been sleeping with Rafe for 6 months now. It all started after a Christmas party last December. You were working your shift at the club, way more tipsy than you should have been for being on the clock. A drunk Rafe Cameron started talking you up and you flirted back. The boy was handsome enough. Granted, he was a fucking dick. But you just wanted to get off.

He took you into the bathroom on your break and absolutely rocked your world. No one had ever made you cum like he did. The way you could feel yourself release around his cock made you both fucking dissolve into the earth.

From that day forward, you guys fucked constantly. But you never told a soul and neither did he. Kooks and Pogues don't hook up.

______________

Your eyes flickered open. "Ugh," You groaned as you tried to sit up. You were in your room, Kiara asleep next to you. She slept with you every night since her parents kicked her out. She was your closest girlfriend.

A wave of nausea washed over you and you hopped out of bed and booked it to the bathroom. You expelled the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Gasping for air in between heaves.

"Are you okay?" Kiara was at the door now, crouching beside you to hold your hair back.

"Must be the flu," You said before vomiting again. "I didn't even drink last night."

"Alright let me get you some water and a pillow. You're probably gonna stay in here today."

You rested by the toilet and drank your water but by 11am you were feeling 100%.

You walked out into the kitchen and greeted everyone.

"Don't get us sick," John B said, stepping back from you.

"I feel fine now," You said. "I'm actually hungry!"

Sarah and Kiara eyed you for a moment. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You said as you popped some waffles in the toaster.

"Are you pregnant?" Kie asked.

You paused for a moment. You and Rafe never used condoms. And had you been taking your birth control lately? You were always bad at taking meds.

"Aha, no. No way." You responded.

John B, JJ, and Pope sat awkwardly.

You looked to the floor as you pressed your hand to your stomach. Thoughts racing through your head as you tried to remember the last time you had your period. "Fuck."

"Do you have a secret lover?" Sarah teased.

"John B, give me the keys to the Twinkie." You demanded.

John B fished them out of his pocket and handed them to you and you rushed out the door.

"Y/N, where are you going?!" Kiara called after you but you ignored her.

You hopped into the van and drove off quickly. When you pulled up to the drug store you ran inside and and bought five pregnancy tests and a gallon of water.

You leaned back in your seat and sighed after chugging as much water as you could.

You considered texting Rafe but you voted against it. You needed to be sure.

You drove back to the Chateau, grocery bag in hand as you locked yourself in the bathroom.

Two hours later you were standing over the counter, staring at the five plus signs set before you.

You couldn't help but cry. "Fuck..."

"Y/N?" You heard Sarah and Kie outside your door. You leaned back and swallowed. You had no idea what to do but telling a friend might be a good start.

You open the door and yank them into the bathroom. "Y/N! What's going on?" Sarah asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh before nodding your head towards the bathroom counter.

Sarah and Kie look at eachother before slowly walking towards where the five pregnancy tests sat. Five. And they were all positive.

"Oh shit, Y/N..." Sarah said.

Kiara swallowed. "Uhm...is this like a congratulations or a 'we need to go to the clinic right now' situation?"

"I don't know," You said, joining them by the sink. "I should probably talk to...to..him." Your eyes fell to your feet.

"Who, Y/N?" Kiara asked. "We can take you there, we're here for you."

You laugh and throw your head back.

"Y/N...Who is he?" Sarah asks.

You bite your lip as you look down to meet her eyes.

She was confused and concerned. She wanted to help but her and Kie were both nervous about what was going on.

"Rafe," You said softly, barely a whisper.

Kiara and Sarah looked at you with wide eyes. "Wait..Rafe? My brother?? Rafe's the dad?!" Sarah was practically screaming now.

"Shhhh!" You said as you ran and covered her mouth. "Yes, it's Rafe's okay! Can we please not scream it to the whole world?!"

Sarah was silent as you backed away from her.

"Since when have you been fucking Rafe Cameron?!" Kiara asks.

"Y/N, he's a piece of shit!" Sarah added.

"Okay, listen! We've been hooking up since Christmas and...I don't know. I thought it was a one time thing but it just kept happening."

"Is that where you go every night?!" Sarah asked.

You sigh and press your tongue to your inner cheek. "Yeah."

"So you're fucking my brother," Sarah scoffs.

"You're fucking mine!" You hiss back.

Sarah rolls her eyes and shrugs. "Touche. But Rafe's a fucking dick!"

"Yeah, I'm aware." You sigh as you lean back and sink to the floor. "Should I even tell him?"

"He'd wanna know," Sarah said softly. "As much as I hate him, he loves hard."

You feel your phone buzz and pull it from your pocket. "Fuck, it's Rafe."

You coming over tonight?

"I can't do this." You begin to cry, placing your head on your knees. "Rafe doesn't even care about me. I'm just pussy to him."

"I don't know, Y/N...He's always sucked at showing his true feelings."

You shake your head before Sarah can say anything else. You grab your phone and respond.

No. We shouldn't see each other anymore.

You hesitate but press send. It breaks your heart but you know this is the right thing.

Your phone buzzes again but you ignore it.

"I'm gonna call the clinic," You say as you excuse yourself from the bathroom and go sit on the porch, lighting up a cigarette.

Your fingers hover over the screen of your phone, not being able to bring yourself to do it.

"Fuck this!" You yell as you toss your phone across the patio.

"Y/N-"

"What John B?!"

"Are you okay?"

You were pacing now, taking drags off your cigarette as you tried to catch your breath.

"You shouldn't be smoking." John B says.

You turn to look at him. "Doesn't matter," You mutter.

"You're pregnant." John B states. You turn to look at him again. Annoyed the Kie and Sarah said anything. "And no, Kie and Sarah didn't tell me. I'm just not stupid."

You sit down and sigh, dragging your cigarette again.

Your phone continues to buzz from the other side of the porch. John B goes to pick it up. When you notice him staring at it you quickly snatch it from his hands.

"Rafe?" His voice is almost a whisper.

You sigh as you take your bottom lip between your teeth. "Yeah." You respond.

You look down at your phone to see the five messages Rafe had sent you.

What? What do you mean? Why?

Y/N, I'm sorry I was a dick last night.

Please talk to me.

I'm sorry...

I need to talk to you. Please.

"Are you gonna tell him?" John B asks.

You put your head in your hands as you try to choke back tears. You had not intended to find out you were pregnant today. Nor were you prepared for your brother and all your friends to find out you'd been fucking Rafe Cameron. It was all too overwhelming.

"I don't know," You respond honestly.

John B sighs. "Look, never been a fan of Rafe. I had no clue you two were.....close." He says, motioning towards your stomach. "But I think you should think about it a little more and talk to him before you make a final decision."

You chewed on his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.

_________

You locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night. Curled up under the covers as your phone continued to vibrate.

Nonstop calls and texts from Rafe. Since when has he cared so much? He was probably just coked out and horny.

You decided to shut your phone off. He'd have to find another girl to get his dick wet. Sex was the last thing you wanted right now.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, completely unsure of what to do.

The next three days were awful. Throwing up all morning, crying all afternoon. Your friends tried to be there for you but you continued to barricade yourself in your room. You'd come out once in a while to grab some food and water and instantly go back to your bed, binge watching Jersey Shore on your lap top under the covers.

You'd kept your phone off. You really just couldn't bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. And the people you would need to talk to were right outside the door.

_______

"Oh shit," Sarah said as she stood up from her spot on the porch, getting a better view of Rafe's truck pulling up to the Chateau.

The rest of the Pogues stood up too, not fully prepared to handle this situation.

"John B!" Rafe said as he hopped out of his truck. "John B, look man, I don't have any beef with you, alright? I just really need to see Y/N."

"She's not feeling great right now, man." John B responded.

Kiara slipped away and rushed to your bedroom.

You heard knocking on your door and you groaned. "What?"

"Y/N, uhm..." Kiara begins.

"What is it, Kie? I'm sleeping."

"Rafe's here."

Your chest tightens at her words.

"I don't-I don't think he's going to leave without seeing you, Y/N."

"Fuck me!" You whisper as you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I'll be out in a second!"

Kiara goes back to where Rafe and John B are arguing on the porch. "She'll be right out."

The boys shut up and look at her.

"Thank you." Rafe said.

You hop out of bed and open your door. The light of day almost blinding as your eyes adjusted. You instantly missed the dark warmth of your bed.

You slowly make your way to the porch. Your plaid pajama shorts clung loosely to your hips while your tank top hugged you tightly. Your hair was a wavy mess. You hadn't done anything to it in days. But you really couldn't care less at this point.

You shyly step outside. Rafe's eyes flicker to you, a small smile on his lips before taking in your appearance. Concern instantly washing over his face. "Y/N, are you okay?" He asked, taking a step closer to you and reaching for your hands.

You quickly pull away from him and he frowns. "Uhm, could you guys give us a minute?" You ask the group. They all nod hesitantly and head inside.

"Why are you here, Rafe?" You ask once the two of you are alone.

"I haven't heard from you in days. I-I got worried."

You sighed and looked down to your feet.

"Look, Y/N, I'm really sorry I've been such a dick. I'm trying to quit the blow it's just so hard, ya know?"

"It's fine, Rafe. I knew what this was from the beginning." You shrug.

"I like you." He admits. You look up at him. "I like you a lot. I suck at showing it and I get why you're probably sick of me. But I need you to know you're more than just sex to me."

"W-what do you mean?" You ask confused.

Rafe lets out a slow, shaky breathe and scratches the back of his head. "I'm not good at...at showing emotions," He begins. "I don't like being vulnerable. That's why I do coke, I guess. I've just-I've never been good at the whole feelings thing and I just really didn't know how to tell you how I really felt. But when you said you didn't want to see me anymore...." He trails off, looking down to meet your gaze. "I-it hurt me..."

Your expression softens and you give him a sympathetic smile.

"And if you don't want to see me anymore, I get it. I just wanted to tell you-"

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head into his chest. He was stunned for a moment but moved to wrap his arms around you tightly, nuzzling his face into your messy hair.

"I like you too, Rafe." You admit. "And I don't want to stop seeing you. I was just scared. There is something we need to talk about..."

"Anything, sweetheart," He says as he runs his fingers up and down your spine.

You swallow and squeeze your eyes shut. "Rafe, I'm pregnant." The words leave your lips without warning and you brace yourself for whatever is coming next.

Rafe stops moving. Your body tenses as you still cling to him. After a moment, he places his hands on your shoulders and pulls you back to look at him. "What did you say?"

"I-I'm pregnant. I was going to call the clinic but I thought I should talk to you about it first and I'm sorry I ignored you the last few days I just-"

Rafe starts shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, baby, shhhh." He says. "I just uhm...do you want to keep it?" He asks nervously.

"I-I mean...I've just never really thought about being a mom before."

"We can move you to Tannyhill," Rafe starts. "And I'll tell my dad I need more work and we'll save up and Wheezie can babysit and-"

"Rafe!" You stop him. You can't help but laugh. "Are you saying you want to keep it? I was only going to call the clinic because I thought you wouldn't want to..."

"Yes, yes!" He says, picking you up and twirling you around. When he sets you back down he takes your face between his hands and kisses you deeply. The kiss was passionate, filled with love, unlike the hungry make out sessions that usually stole your nights.

"I'm gonna be a dad!" Rafe yelled as he jumped off the porch, full of energy.

You laughed, tears of joy filling your eyes as you heard the Pogues come back out on the porch. This went way better than you had expected.

"I take it that went well?" John B asks as he watches Rafe run around in excitement.

"I don't think I've ever seen Rafe so happy before," Sarah chuckles beside you.

"Whoo! Okay!" Rafe says as he comes back over to you, practically out of breath. He gets on his knees and places kisses along your stomach. "I'm taking you to lunch. What do you want to eat? You can have whatever you want, baby, on me."

"Rafe," You laugh, running your fingers through his hair as he keeps his lips pressed to your belly. "Can I at least shower first?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course baby. You wanna shower here? Or we could go to my house,"

"Oh God, please go to Tannyhill." Sarah says, the rest of the group agreeing with her. "This here is a shared shower."

You laugh. "Let me just grab some things and we can go,"

"Okay," Rafe agrees, smiling as he watches you disappear into the Chateau.

"You gonna take care of her? And that baby?" John B asks as he stands next to Rafe.

"Definitely," Rafe responds. "She has no idea how happy she makes me. But I'm gonna show her."

John B nods and offers a small smile.

"Ready!" You say as you come back out, duffle bag over your shoulder.

Rafe takes it from you immediately and goes to put it in his truck.

"Congratulations," John B says, pulling you into a hug.

"Thanks, JB," You smile. "I'll call you later, okay? Stay out of trouble!" You command as you walk towards the truck.

"Aye-aye," He says, saluting you.

You smile as Rafe helps you into the passenger seat. "You ready to go, Mama?" He asks, brushing his hand over your still flat stomach.

You smirk at the gesture. "Definitely."

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[sturn777]

ONE NIGHT, pt 2 to this fic

YOU WAKE UP TO A POUNDING HEADACHE and the unfamiliar scent of cologne clinging to the sheets. a groan slips past your lips as you shift, the dull ache between your legs reminding you exactly what went down last night.

fuck.

blinking through the haze, you push yourself up, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. clothes are scattered across the floor, your dress, his hoodie, a pair of boxers that definitely aren’t yours.

you curse under your breath, slipping out of bed as quietly as possible. chris is still asleep, his bare chest rising and falling steadily, dark hair a mess against the pillow.

not your problem.

you snatch your dress off the floor, shimmying into it with frantic hands, grabbing your bag and keys off the nightstand.

just go. don’t be weird about it.

the floor creaks under your feet as you make your way to the door, wincing at every sound. you don’t look back before slipping out.

by the time the sun is setting, the whole thing feels like a bad decision shoved into the back of your mind. until your phone buzzes.

chris sturniolo: bout to pull up. got some blunts

your stomach flips.

you should leave him on read.

should.

instead, you reply.

you: see you soon

it’s barely ten minutes before there’s a knock at your door.

you open it to find chris, hoodie over his head, backpack slung over one shoulder, lips curled into that stupid, lazy smirk.

“sup, trouble?”

you roll your eyes, stepping aside to let him in. he tosses his bag onto the couch, pulling out a couple of pre-rolls like this is just a normal thing for you two.

like he didn’t have you spread out in his bed less than twenty-four hours ago.

the blunt is lit, smoke swirling between you as you sit on the couch, passing it back and forth. it should be chill. should be normal.

but his knee is brushing against yours, fingers lingering when he hands it to you, gaze flicking to your lips every time you inhale.

“so,” he exhales, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “you always sneak out like that?”

you snort. “you always dm girls you had a one night stand with like nothing happened?”

his smirk deepens. “depends.”

“on what?”

he shifts closer, eyes hooded, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“on if i wanna do it again.”

your breath catches.

chris doesn’t miss it.

the blunt is barely stubbed out before his mouth is on yours, hands pushing under your hoodie, thumbs pressing into your hips like he knew this was gonna happen.

and maybe he did.

maybe you did, too.

because the moment you let him in, you should’ve known one night was never gonna be enough.

his lips are warm, a little rough from the smoke, but insistent as they press against yours. your hands fist into the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, his body heavy against yours as he pushes you down into the couch.

his tongue brushes against yours, slow and teasing, like he’s savoring it. like he’s got all the time in the world.

“knew you’d let me back in,” he murmurs against your lips, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shorts, playing with the waistband.

you don’t even have it in you to pretend you don’t want this.

not when he’s pressing his knee between your legs, nudging them apart, his breath hot against your cheek.

“bet you were thinking about it all day,” he mutters, his fingers finally dipping beneath your panties, rubbing slow, lazy circles against your clit.

you shudder, your head falling back against the couch as his fingers slide lower, teasing at your entrance.

“this wet f'me already?” he chuckles, sliding a finger inside, groaning when your walls clench around him. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

your hips buck up into his hand, desperate for more, but he keeps his pace slow, dragging his fingers out before pushing them back in, setting a torturously steady rhythm.

“chris—” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders.

“what?” he taunts, adding a second finger, curling them just right. “tell me what you want, baby.”

you bite your lip, heat pooling in your stomach as he leans down, lips ghosting over your ear.

“nah, i think i already know.”

and with that, his fingers disappear, your whine cut off by the sound of his zipper.

he smirks, dragging your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor before lining himself up, pressing the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

“still wanna act like last night was a mistake?” he rasps, pushing in slow, stretching you open all over again.

your breath catches, legs wrapping around his waist as he sinks in to the hilt, bottoming out with a low groan.

he doesn’t give you time to adjust, pulling back just enough to slam back in, making you gasp.

his hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider as he fucks into you, slow and deep, like he’s got something to prove. like he wants to make sure you feel him.

“so tight,” he mutters, watching the way your body reacts to every thrust. “fuck, baby, you missed me, huh?”

you can’t even deny it, not with the way you’re moaning, your nails dragging down his back as he picks up the pace, hips snapping against yours.

“knew you’d let me back in,” he grits out, one hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

you’re barely holding on, legs trembling, back arching as pleasure builds and builds, a tight coil in your stomach ready to snap.

“c’mon, baby,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours. “let me feel it.”

his thumb finds your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles, and that’s all it takes, your body tenses, walls clenching around him as you cry out, pleasure washing over you in waves.

chris groans, hips stuttering as he follows, pressing deep as he spills inside you, his breath ragged, body shuddering with the aftershocks.

he stays there for a moment, catching his breath, before pulling out, watching as his cum drips down your thighs.

“shit,” he mutters, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “guess you really wanted me back.”

you smack his arm, rolling your eyes, but you don’t move away.

💬 : already in love w these two... send in asks ab them !

🏷 : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory ; @matttsangel ; @awnmaneez ; @heartss4clauu ; @mattsstarlet ; @madisturni ; @marrykisskilled ; @inspiredangel ; @mattsdemi ; @sturnioloangell ; @ivyandthebeans ; @amelia-sturniolo3 ; @dominicfikeenthusiast ; @sophand4n4 ; @ch6rm ; @et6rnalsun; @sturniolossss ; @jetaimevous ; @chrissweetheart ; @secretlocket ; @courta13 ; @mattsleftball ; @chrislova ; @etherealval ; @throatgoat4u ; @oopsiedaisydeer ; @dearsoulmate3 ; @leaningoutthewindow ; @izzylovesmatt ; @rinnsgalaxy ; @espressqe ; @pair-of-pantaloons ; @chericherrybaby )

[poppysunderthestars]

➷ heartless ii ➷

“tryna be a better man”

⟡ fuckboy!ani and fem!reader

⟡ warning: kissing, +18 content, unprotected p in v (wrap it before y'all tap it!), degradation, sexual tension, blue balls(lmao), cum mention (if i'm missing any, please let me know!) minors do not interact!

⟡ summary; after the terrace horror show in your panties with anakin, you give it a go with him, i mean like a fuck and go ... maybe you're fuckboy's ani turning point or the one that could change him?

⟡ word count; 3,6k

author's notice: omg i can't actually believe it took me almost a year to drop part 2! hate uni anyways. i was debating whether on the ending to. should i give y'all a part 3? i think this is longer than pt.1. hahah enjoy!!

you can read pt. i here -> heartless pt. i

‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

he was dying for a taste. your taste, your tasty, flavorful, and sweet insides. he had imagined before what you’d taste like. what kind of texture your fluid would spill into. and he had so certainly pictured your love box being filled to the top of his hot seed. he was so dirty for that, but he didn’t even fucking care.

he was so needy for you, he was thrilled for your touch on his goosebumpy skin, only you could cause something like that on him. that neediness went from non-existent to “on the verge of passing out”, he wanted all and he was going to get it. 

a few days since that moment on the terrace with anakin full of sexual tension had passed. right after that, he went straight to his chambers to “cool off” being the nicest words for “pumping his hard juicy cock until oblivion”. 

he outright spent a few hours edging himself on his fist, thinking it was you doing him so wrong. your name was thrown from his mouth several times while his heat was rising. his loving whimpering increased while the speed of his dick increased. he had NEVER been so vocal, yet there he was moaning and delicately whispering “pl-please, do-don’t- don’t stop-op” his breath was short but he was almost certain that you were jumping on his lap making him feel so good.

he was embarrassed that a woman like you could make him so weak even by you not being close to him. something he had never felt before. his body went through heat waves when he thought of you in front of him. 

today, he was so confident he was going to take you to heaven with his mouth. everything was pointing towards success tonight in his chambers. he was loving the attention the female jedi´s were giving him in the library during study sessions.

everyone else was studying, reading, or driving intellectual conversations. however, mr. skywalker was taking kisses, handsy touches, and one not-very-obvious blow to his dick under the table. you did see that when no one else did. you were jealous but at the same time so desperate to choke him, how could he be so promiscuous in a temple of learning? 

he was disrespectful and egoistic by thinking he would not pay for his actions.

to some point, you did admire his ability to not give a fuck about shit. but it was time to make him regret everything.

after the library, you went back directly to your master. nonetheless, he was nowhere to be seen. he was still out on an important mission. you shrugged and returned to your chambers, where a holographic call from your master was already waiting.

he told you not to worry, he would be back in a few weeks and that for the time being you’d to report to master obi-wan kenobi.

oh, no. what the actual fuck. no.

that was not happening. but it did and there was nothing to make it different. so you pretended this little temporary action did not affect you. 

the rest of the night, you had one of your closest padawan guy friends hang out with you in your room. you talked about life, friends, jedi stuff. you’d hooked up before, he was your go-to guy for late-night calls. he had already tasted, devoured, felt, smelled, licked, and traced every millimeter of your douce skin. he was not the first or the last man to ever make you feel in paradise, rising through the thin air as you came riding his dick.

that night, things went as planned for you and him. anakin on the other hand, was not happy at all about your sentiments and your desires for someone who was not him. it was either him or no one. it had to be that way. he hated feeling that way, needing you in all your glory in every way. why you?  why not another girl?

there were far prettier girls in the temple, but he did not want them at all, not even close to how he was deprived of you, starved, and addicted to your entirety. your presence was magnetic, and the way you smiled after training, dropping sweat from your hair, licking the salty lips that he’d wished were all over him.

no one was made for him like you. recently you’d found yourself knowing that, he knew that and that tension in the terrace proved you both right. 

it was early morning now, a time when all that reigned over the temple was silence and sweet calm. your padawan guy friend had left your chambers some hours ago and for some reason, an obvious and indisputable one, you could not conceive sleep.

you’re killing me, fucking anakin skywalker.

that was what you wanted to do then, get yourself fucked by no other than soon-to-be knight anakin. it was a feeling you couldn’t run from, it was there from dusk till dawn, and from dawn till dusk. 

that night, you paced from one side of your room to the other, you anxiously moved your feet while lying down trying to fall asleep. it was such excitement and neediness, that you got up, took a quick shower, put some makeup on, and got out. you were getting some tonight with anakin and you couldn’t wait.

quietly you tipped toed around the white noised hallways, controlling your breath to not seem so excited and imagining what it would feel like to be already in skywalker’s embrace.

by the time you arrived at his door, your heart was racing so fast it felt like it was about to jump out of your chest and explode into a million pieces at his sight. no one has ever made you feel that way and you noticed that. you guessed anakin had felt that too on the terrace cause you felt him feel the same way about you. it was time to redeem all those lost years gone through the drain by giving the best night of his life to anakin.

before you could even reach the door to knock it, it suddenly opened, revealing a shirtless and tiresome anakin on the other side. he lacked sleep and he couldn’t formulate complete thoughts other than taking you right there in the door frame up against the cold metal.

he needed it so badly, all night he was desperate for touch, especially yours. and it seemed it was finally time for his hands to travel up and down your body. that was what he did, not hesitating for a moment, he threw himself onto you causing you to gasp in surprise. the door closed, leading you to cover yourselves into the darkness of his room, the only light being the soft illumination from the early morning coruscant.

he wrapped you with his arms looking down to you in awe. his mind was running all around and he couldn’t seem to concentrate, his heart was also racing and his breath was starting to become irregular. becoming one, delicately he took your chin and raised it up to match both visages. 

“last time we were alone, i was completely fine. yet these days without you and your presence have become one of my darkest thoughts, i fear”

his lips were perfectly moisturized and his fingertips traced your cheek. 

who could’ve thought mr. fuck-it-all had romance in him? 

when did he turn into this ball of pure neediness for you?

“you, anakin. have been present every night in my thoughts”

then, he felt proud. you felt the same way as him, pride was gone and you both needed to take each other so high you couldn’t come down.

“you know, i’ve tried hard stopping feeling these things for you. but i can’t. i’m enveloped”

oh well, you were too. 

and with that he closed the space between you and him, letting your breaths become one. lips colliding as his hands posed on your neck and subsequently letting him access the area under your ear.

“i’m tryna be a better man, but i’m fucking heartless”

and passion flowed from the connection formed. made you feel powerless the way he attacked your lips. 

“i will break your heart” he said, restraining himself from devouring you. “i will break you”

“nobody can break what’s already broken” your voice softly murmured onto his lips letting him caress the back of your head and grabbing your neck in a need of possessing you.

without mercy, he grabbed your head and with the other hand he bound his arm to your waist attaching you to him even closer. practically his member protruding your already soaked panties. grinding at the sign of your breath wanting more each time.

still with his hand in your head, almost taking a grip of your lower soft locks, his other hand ripped off your garments in a desperate attempt to make you feel impotent and unskillful. 

he kind of did achieve that, you were losing your mind over that touch. you were reminded you were there to make him feel like a total pathetic loser like he made you feel days ago in the terrace, not the other way around.

the thing is… you wanted him to be hurt, so impatient and needy only you could ease his throbbing dick pain.

after releasing from your clothing and his too. he admired in compass with his hands the brassier that held your pompous glistening breasts. his hands were without a doubt a complete mess, not even knowing where to start. after praising your bosoms, he liberated them with one hand from the white ladies’ wear.

oh, how did he spent so much time without his hand all over your soft bust. he internally begged to be allowed to pump himself in between your tits desiring to cream all over your chest. he could not wait any longer. his tip already bathed in clear sweet cum.

one of your hands rested easily on his cheek, caressing it with so much dedication. the other  guided anakin’s rough hand to your white cotton panties, a grinning smile garnishing his tanned face after realizing he had drenched his fingers with the wetness of your underwear.

you impose the infallible doe eyes to make him even more lustful for you, totally working wonders to any man. your hand left his in order to travel to his hard cock that was wishing to break free from his underpants. you pressed it softly earning from him a mellow whimper from his mouth.

“no man has ever touched me like that”  he raised a brow and approached you once again to drop all your clothing leaving you in complete nakedness.

“no one has ever made me feel like you have and you haven’t even been inside of me, you enchant me” was he going to believe all that? you kind of believe it yourself. perhaps that was why you were saying it. 

he took your hand and guided your little body to the bed. you took the liberty of smoothly pushing him and colocating yourself on top of his painful hard on. his thighs jelly like suffering from the silky touch were so impatient that he quickly took off the last piece of clothing on him and oppressed himself against your tiny seeping hole. 

you felt the sticky situation happening between both of your fully uncovered au naturel bits, it  felt so unreal, being on top of that whore of a man. the man was hot, there was no denying it. all you were excited about was starting to bounce. oh, was he on serious trouble.

you were going to give him the most unsustainable, burning and torturing minutes of his life by teasing him. your hips began rolling with a constant unstoppable rhythm, it felt so good having him agonizing, you could wait a little longer, no need to rush.

anakin panted and his tight problem become even more of a problem with no apparent solution. he was delirious, how could a woman like that make him feel so pathetic?

you could either let him suffer or giving him the pleasure of having control over you. 

fuck him, he deserved it. 

“bear it with fucking pride, baby” you said, licking the velvety surface of his nipples. 

you couldn’t have guessed how much time passed however it was starting to getting off your nerves. you wanted him pumping you but not as much as he wanted you.

how could a man be this pathetic? fool…

without previous announcement, you traced the tip of his member teasingly inserting it into your folds. hissing by the size of his dick, he au contraire warmed up by your insides whimpering in between a kiss.

how hypnotizing, you were starting to become surrounded by the grace of pleasure. 

“t-take all of me-e, doll” and so you did, you pushed him inside diligently. his veiny cock penetrated your gummy walls allowing you to stretch like you’ve never before.

after inserting himself fully, he prepared to move, feeling heavenly with each thrust. starting slow became faster and harder. melting at the friction his lower abdomen had to your hooded clit. your swollen hole became creamier and redder allowing you to enjoy the roughness of his movements.

“you feel amazing, ani” you felt great, but anakin felt even better and calling him that made him feel on the verge of seeing stars. but he contained. he would not let your first time together end so quickly because he was so horny. 

he was consumed by lust in its glory. all splattered across the bed for you. you rode him with impatience searching for your climax.

anakin was fucking pussy drunk. who would’ve thought. 

all he needed was your tight little drenched pussy. all made and delivered in a gold plate to him.

it was like his cock was carved according to your insides. perfectly fitting with every vain hitting the right spots. no dick had ever covered all of your walls like that. it was perfect for you.

“you make me feel so good, darling” he paced even faster, not allowing you to even breath. he had to put his effort with his hips but you were after all the one that had control over him, dominating his thighs and his big member.

without previous notice, he got his back up. resting it against the cold headboard. he wanted to see your tits flying on another perspective. 

his lips delivered a message to your breasts, biting softly and squeezing them together. his moans were muffled by his mouth attacking your chest, yours on the other hand were not discreet nor quiet.

all there was left was increasing volume and floppier thrusts when you felt closer to your high.

so you took it farther from him. you bit his ear and whispered.

“if you could see yourself right now”

did he listen to anything? not a single little thing. it was ecstasy to him and he was on another dimension all fucked up.

you pushed him even farther from your spongy spot abusing your poor cunt. finally caving in, your walls feeling the necessity to contract on his long dick.

you saw nothing but a static vision of pleasure, felt the expansion of electricity all over your body and your skin convulsed. the aftermath was very easy. it all came back to you. anakin was nothing but a jerk (who fucks good) however under no circumstance you would let him cum much less to irrigate himself inside of you.

you stopped yourself. finally breathing fully. he furrowed his brows and internally questioned your retrieval. he started feeling used, whose body was nothing but a sex toy available for her pleasure. she felt powerful leading him on like that. he did not deserve cumming. 

the emasculation of anakin skywalker was a first, he’d never been left with blue balls and he kinda started to understand that maybe his whole bitchy bad guy attitude was the reason why. 

nonetheless, this little joke on him made him realize no one had ever put him back in his place. literally all girls were thirsty and craving a fun night with him no matter the consequence, yet you were the one to make him feel like no one. like he was indeed the jerkiest of them all.

 he scoffed and looked up and down at you.  you had definitely left him speechless. as soon as you got up and started dressing up again, he became desperate. for you and of course for an answer to the situation he just couldn’t comprehend.

“well that was very fun, skywalker” you finally put on your belt and threw your hands to your hair to fix it up a little. yet anakin remained covered up in his mattress, panning and before you turned around to walk to the entrance, he grabbed you by the wrist. 

his grip was tight unlike how he grabbed your waist just minutes before, his eyes darkened and he finally spoke with a tad of clarity.

“fuck you, you made me think you were in the same shit with me the other day and now you pull this?” a typical ani, angry boy could never talk with soft expressions. your eyes redirected themselves to his bronzed and toned abdominal, his v line was making you drip inside, you’d wish that was your sight every morning. that was not the anakin you knew.

“well, wasn’t this a one time thing?” you innocently pouted your mouth. manipulating was the deal now, somehow you were trying to make him forever yours. would that even work?

he grunted and took you by the waist surrounding his arm on you and pulling you closer. 

“did i say that?” his visage made him look a bit mad but you assume it was just the fact you left him on the verge of spilling his seed. 

“i don’t fuck around, at least not with you” his lips pushed themselves together. ohh, his patience was easing. he was not going to put up with this.

“you know what? i don’t fucking need you, you whore” his grip on your body felt debilitating. you still need it. you couldn’t afford to lose him and not like this. “i could have any other bitch”

his gaze looked to the other side of the room, giving you a sort of a cold acknowledgement. 

“yeah, you wish” you instinctively got closer to him. “you’ll always know you have cum in all of the girls around here but, me. i think that oughta sting, or am i wrong?”

his face tightened and so did his grip. his arms became more stiff and his eyes slowly met yours.

“someday, you’ll regret it, honey” he breathed out. “you’d know you missed out on something great”

you powerfully smiled and talked to his ear. “it’s an all or nothing with me, ani” 

he scoffed again and his expression meant ridicule. his attitude was ridiculous but you had to let him know. he wasn’t going to be getting it on with you and having it all so freely. you had some dignity and you’d had to preserve it for the most. 

“so you’re saying i either date you and fuck all i want with you or i don’t and don’t fuck with you at all?” he emphasized these lasts words. 

“oh my ani, i never pegged you for smarty pants. just thought you were a drop-your-pants kinda guy” you let out a small laugh and turn your right cheek to your shoulder. girl was sassy and we knew it all along. 

“haha” he gave out a fake laughter and dropped his hands from your body and grabbed the sheets to his waist, providing him a more covered look (did it help? not at all) he still looked yummy. his forehead was still full of droplets of salty sweat and his chest glistened with most beautiful bliss. 

the silence reigned now over the room, air conditioning working was all you both could hear and the occasional steps outside in the hall. you really couldn’t feel uncomfortable at all, it was just confusing. 

“you know i don’t date” you turned around giving up, but that was not your plan yet.

“never told you i wanted to date you” your hands met your face and because your face was not in his sight you didn’t know how he was reacting, that felt scary. “i think if i wanted to date someone i could have someone way better than you, don’t you think?” 

“i mean, someone compromising, dedicated, strong and with a gorgeous mane” 

ding again, you had just loosened up his pretentious ego.

lovely how you can just fuck him up so easily

“am i not all that? or what’s wrong with me?” 

his face dropped and while that happened you smirked. oh how were tables turned now.

“now i got to be leaving, it’s getting late”

his glance started weakening and you felt stronger than ever.

“what should i do now?”

you turned your head and with your somber eyes you reprised.

“find someone to fix you, right? trying to be a better man? not much of a heartless man now, ani?”

with not much left to say, your hand reached the button to open the door, and passing through the threshold, he dropped.

“stay the night?” 

your hand grabbed the door frame, stopping for a moment.

hot jedi from tatooine, my ass

and without thinking it much, your body deserved way more. 

the door closed behind you and walking peacefully, your mind felt clearer. post-nut clarity was very useful. 

guess, i’m the heartless one after all…

[blackpantherismyish]

Smoke Signals Pt. 2 🍃

Modern!Smoke x Annie

Word count: 2.4k

Authors Note: The one thing about writing is, at first you may say you’ll only do one. And your own cliffhanger makes you want more 😅 shoutout to yall for loving it and I want to give the people what they want. (It’s me, I’m also people). Today’s song has no direct connection.. it was just what I was listening to while writing. 🤭

The light comes in soft, blush pink and silver-gray, spilling across the rumpled sheets. The world outside is still. No cars. No voices. Just birdsong in the distance and the faint creak of the ceiling fan above.

Annie stirs first.

She’s curled under the blanket, one leg twisted out, the other tangled around Smoke’s. His arm is slung low across her waist, fingers resting just above her navel like they never stopped touching her all night.

She doesn’t move yet.

Just watches him.

He’s asleep partially on his side, chest rising slow, face completely calm. That same unreadable expression he wore when he first pulled up in the Cutlass, but now it feels different.

Now it feels like hers. It’s been a short while since she’s felt this way.

She lets her eyes trail across his bare shoulder, the curve of his throat, that little scar near his collarbone. She almost touches it.

Almost.

Smoke stirs.

Eyes barely open, just a sliver. A voice similar to the rumble of thunder rattles through her chest. “You watchin’ me?”

His voice is gravel-soft. Not startled. Just aware.

Annie smirks, shifting onto her side to face him fully.

“An’ what if I was?”

Smirking is his half-dozed state he mutters a bit louder. “Then I guess I should wake up and make it worth watchin’.”

She laughs under her breath. Shakes her head and tugs the blanket up a little, covering herself even though he’s already seen it all.

He turns toward her, finally really looking at her. His fingers move slow, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. Not possessive. Not rushed. Just… gentle.

It disarms her more than last night did.

Annie looks at him as the sun peaks through the blinds and shimmers against his soft brown skin.

“You’re not gonna get weird, are you?”

Raising an eyebrow, Smoke rubs a hand down her shoulder. “What you mean?”

“Like… go quiet and vanish. Pretend it didn’t happen. Do the whole “my bad, I was high” act”

Smoke just watches her. Then reaches for her hand under the blanket and laces their fingers together.

“I was high.”

“Nigga..” Annie cuts her eyes at him, pulling away her hand from his. “See? There you go with dat shit”

Smoke shakes his head with soft smirk before speaking. “But I knew what I was doin’.”

“Still do.”

That sinks in slower than she wants to admit.

She lies there, looking at him. Trying not to let the fear crawl in, the one that always comes after soft things.

Smoke leans closer, mouth brushing the top of her shoulder this time, not her lips.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

She closes her eyes at that. Not because she’s sleepy but because something in her chest just unclenched.

Biting her lip, Annie glides her hand down his arm, feeling the ripples of his muscles under her fingertips.

“Good.” She whispered. “I thinkin’ about makin’ breakfast. Maybe…”

Smoke stretches a little beside her, arm sliding behind his head. “I’d eat it.”

“Uh, I know dat. You can never stay away from my cookin’.. Even though ‘you ain’t been here in a while’.. Big ole broad ass nigga. ” She laughs as his face contorts.

“Well then go surprise me.. My palette may have changed”

“Don’t get smart” She side-eyes him.

“You always this sweet in the morning?” Smoke chuckles softly, watching her sit up.

“Only when I wake up next to you. Cause you have some sort of kink for this shit.”

She laughs again. This one fuller. Unafraid.

And as she rolls out of bed, shirt tugged back over her head, bare legs crossing the floor to the kitchen. Smoke watches her like he already knows she’s gonna come back.

Like he ain’t even gotta follow her immediately.

Because some things don’t need chasing.

Some things just stay where they are.

The sun slices in through the kitchen window, warm and gold. The air is filled with the sizzle of garlic, the pop of cherry tomatoes in olive oil, and the faint hum of music playing low from Annie’s Alexa. Something old and soulful.

Annie moves through the kitchen like she owns it. Barefoot, focused, confident. Her hair’s messy in a way that still looks deliberate, and she wears one of Smoke’s shirts like it was made for her.

On the stove, a cast iron skillet holds the makings of a perfect omelet, herbs, sautéed peppers, sharp cheese melting into the folds. Toast already golden, jam homemade, sitting beside a French press half-full with fresh coffee.

No half-effort here. She cooks like she loves herself.

From the hallway, the sound of soft footsteps. Then Smoke appears in the doorway, rubbing a hand down his face. Shirtless, dark grey sweatpants hanging low on his waist, and eyes still heavy from sleep. He looks at her like the sight alone is making it hard to breathe right.

Annie hasn't turned yet. She knows he’s watching.

Voice still about as low as his sweatpants on his waist, Smoke vocalizes. “Damn.”

Annie doesn’t look back. “Morning to you too.”

His voice becomes clearer as he continues to watch her.

“You cooked all this?”

“I don’t do that cereal in the morning shit. I like real food.”

Smoke steps in, slower than usual. Not because he’s tired but like he’s weighing something.

“You still cook like this?”

She flips the omelette over swiftly, shrugging. “Only when someone’s worth feeding.”

She finally turns to look at him. And he looks guilty.

Not the dramatic kind. The real kind. That slow, tight regret sitting behind his eyes.

“Annie…” He pauses. “About last time… Me goin’ ghost. I should’ve said somethin’. You didn’t deserve that.”

Her jaw tightens a little. Not from anger, just recognition. She plates the food with intention, no waste, no mess. Slides his dish across the table, sits across from him.

Scoffing softly, she glances at him. “You’re right. I didn’t.”

He nods, taking it. Doesn’t deflect.

“I had shit to handle. But I should’ve at least let you know I was alive.”

She watches him. Picks up her coffee. Drinks slow.

“I don’t need play-by-plays. I ain’t no football coach. But I’m not someone you just hit when the smoke clears.I’m not built for that kind of vanishing act foolishness”

“I know,” Smoke looks down for a second, then back at her. “That’s why I’m here. Why I came back.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just eats. Fork cutting through the omelet, revealing the melted cheese, still warm and soft.

He watches her chew. Watches the way she avoids looking at him when things get close to real.

“This is fire, by the way.” His lips smack slightly.

Smirking, she looks up. “Nigga you betta act like you know..”

He laughs. And for the first time that morning, something eases between them.

She finally looks at him straight.

“You still got some explaining to do… But I’m not gonna waste good eggs being mad.”

Quietly wiping his mouth, Smoke nods.

“I’m not goin’ ghost again. Not on you.”

She holds his eyes. And it’s like she’s measuring whether she believes him or maybe, whether she’s ready to believe anyone at all.

Then, slowly, she leans over the table. Reaches for his hand, thumb brushing across his knuckles.

“Next time, just say what’s real. I don’t need perfect. I just need present.”

Rubbing his thumb along her hand, he watches her gaze.

She lets his fingers stay tangled in hers a second longer than necessary, then pulls back and stands up, gathering dishes.

“Now if you really want to prove you’re not the vanishing type…” Annie smirks.

Eagerly, he leans forward. It’s not like her to give hints. “Yeah?”

“You’ll wash the damn dishes.”

Grinning as he rose, he strides over to her “You cook, I clean. I can do that.”

She smirks and leans in close as she passes behind him, hand dragging lightly across his bare chest, then his lap. Not an accident.

“Good…” She feels his breath hitch briefly. “‘Cause later… I’m gonna need dessert.”

She disappears into the hallway.

Smoke watches her go, eyes low, jaw tight with quiet hunger but also relief.

He’s not just back. He’s grounded now.

And Annie, she might just let him stay.

The dishes are done.

The kitchen smells faintly of lemon soap and roasted garlic. The window’s cracked open, letting in a warm breeze that flutters the curtain like breath. Alexa now playing soft R&B, the bass humming through the house.

Smoke stands at the sink, drying the last plate, shoulders relaxed now. Shirt still missing. But he had put some socks on, the tilt floor started to make his feet cold. He’s still here, that fact hanging in the room like a low hum Annie pretends not to hear too loud.

She’s across the room now, wiping down the counter, but really… watching him.

“You’re good at that.”

He smirks, tilting his head. “Doin’ dishes?”

Nodding softly, she hums. “Mmhm.”

“Might start inviting you over just for that.”

He finishes and leans back against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with that unreadable gaze; the kind that feels like he’s cataloging every piece of her and still somehow not looking away.

“What else you need me to make up for?”

Her head tilts.

She lets the rag drop into the sink. Turns fully to him. Slow, deliberate.

“Oh, you wanna have that conversation?”

He shrugs, but his grin betrays the calm.

“You the one brought it up.”

She takes a few steps toward him—bare feet quiet on the tile, the frigidness being nothing new to her. When she gets close, she reaches out, fingers lightly grazing curve of his jaw, then sliding down to rest on his chest.

“It’s not just about disappearing.” She adjusts his chain. “It’s about what we lost… Time. Nights. Things you owe me now.”

Smoke’s hands come to rest on her hips, but he doesn’t pull her in yet. He just holds her there, like a decision he’s ready to keep making.

“What you think I owe you?”

She leans in, lips ghosting his ear in a way that makes his knees almost buckle.

“You ever been kissed like you were supposed to stay forever?”

Smoke doesn’t answer.

But his fingers flex against her waist.

Annie doesn’t pull back much. Just enough to meet his eyes.

“Because I was thinking maybe you make that up to me… One room at a time.”

A pause. The air thickens. Then he moves. Deliberate. Certain.

His hand slides up her back, the other under her thigh as he lifts her in one motion, no hesitation. She laughs, breath hitching, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Okay, damn.”

“You said one room at a time, right?”

Nodding, she slides a hand to rest at the base of his neck. “Might wanna start with the bedroom.”

“Might not leave it.”

Light filters through curtains. The sheets are already messy from the night before.

Now, they’re worse.

Annie’s tangled beneath Smoke, hair splayed across her pillow, lips parted, eyes fluttering between focus and something slower, softer. She’s not trying to hide anything anymore—not want, not trust, not how long she’s needed this.

Smoke’s moving like he’s catching up for all the hours he missed. Not rushed. Not apologetic. Just here.

Fully here.

He speaks quietly against her neck, nibbling on the spot he knows drives her mad. “Ain’t goin’ ghost again.”

Annie whispers, “You better not..”

Her hand’s on his jaw, keeping him close. His is on her lower back, anchoring her in place. His hips grinding against her in the hungriest manner.

“You going to keep teasin’ me or you going to do somethin’?” Annie moans softly, his shirt riding up on her hips.

Smoke doesn’t speak but moves his body off of hers. Before she could protest, he began placing soft kisses down her body. His hands lifting his shirt to reveal her soft, chocolate skin. His eyes wandered to her legs, her thighs swallow the material of her panties making them almost invisible.

“Oh I’m going to do something, aight..” dragging her to the edge of the bed as he drops to his knees, he kisses the top of her thighs.

She lets out a soft moan, propping herself up on her elbows. “An’ what’s that?”

Spreading her legs and sliding her panties off, he was greeted by her glistening pussy. His mouth watering while he palms her flesh.

“I’m gonna make you shake, baby…” His voice dripped with seduction as he gave her clit a soft peck.

Annie bit his lip, she wouldn’t admit it out loud but seeing Smoke… Her Elijah, on his knees speaking a language to her soul that only he could also drive her up the wall.

His tongue curled and wiggled in between her folds, spreading her wetness onto her thighs and his face. It almost sounded like a primal thirst.

“Fuuck ‘Lijah..” One of her arm slips from underneath her as he latches onto her clit, sucking on it so passionately it was audible. He lets out a purr, almost like a growl but in a melodic tone.

He catches her eyes as she starts to grind her hips against his tongue.

“Papa’s here..” Speaking against her clit, he palms himself through his sweatpants as her moans drip from her lips like a love song written just for him.

Feeling his tongue slip into her entrance she squirms to slide away from the edge of the bed. Sensing this, Smoke grips her thighs and anchors her legs around his head.

The man was feasting on her like he hadn’t just had a full breakfast.

“Why you always gotta do that?” She panted desperately, watching him become flush between her chocolate thighs. She whimpers as he chuckles against her button.

“Because I love hearing you moan like that..” His voice was now a purr, his strong hands holding her steady.

“Just fuck me… Please?”

“Oh you beggin’?” She could her the slight upward inflection of his voice, like he was genuinely surprised.

“Yes.. Because you like to play..” Her hips gyrating the air for some friction as Smoke wrapped her legs around his waist.

Smirking, he slaps his dick against her aching clit. Annie whines, biting down her lip. “It is called foreplay, sweet baby..”

Reaching up, Annie grips his beard. Pulling his face level with her own, she locks her legs around his waist causing him to sink inside of her warmth. Growling through a moan, she gazes up at him. “Elijah you betta quit playin’ and fuck me.”

—-

Some tags didn’t work so please don’t fight me 😭 im tryna fix it and will retag once I get it straight. But I hope yall enjoyed. Work and school has been whooping my ass but ya girl is a certified Phlebo tech. now and on the dean’s list. 🤭🤏🏽

Taglist: @bigjh @anniensmoke3 @hdfen2474 @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @killmongerdispussy @theogbadbitch @ccwpidsblog @princesskillmonger @blowmymbackout @theethighpriestess @steampunkprincess147 @diamondsinterlude @partylikemajima @mhhhhmmmmmmm @coolfoodrunworld-blog @lilchubbs @thebumblebeesworld @mastertia221b @brownskincheyenne @belleofthefloor @lb-xci

Divider : @cafekitsune

[blue-lights-to-dreams]

Golden Light (pt. 2) // H.S.

part 2 to Golden Light! please read that first if you haven't already!

synopsis: you and Harry go back to your apartment after your date, and learn a little more about each other in the process.

warnings: smut, kissing, fingering (f receiving), i think that's it?

wc: 3.6k

a/n: the (maybe) long-awaited sequel to Golden Light as so many of you requested! thank you all so much for all of the love on that work, i'm so happy you guys enjoyed it. let me know what you think of this and if you'd like to see a part 3! :)

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The crackle of the fireplace (and the wine you were drinking) was almost enough to soothe your nerves. Almost. 

You and Harry were sprawled on your living room floor, backs against the couch, enjoying the heat radiating from the fire as Harry described what he had gotten his family for Christmas this year. It was only the beginning of December, but he had everyone’s gifts already. He was so prepared, and the gifts he picked were so thoughtful. Each came with a backstory of exactly why he chose it, usually after the person mentioned something in passing once or twice. 

A vintage whale-shaped coffee mug for his sister, who’d talked about how much she enjoyed a documentary about them over brunch one day. A beautiful landscape by a local painter for his mother after she admired another of her works when they’d gone to the art museum. He’d even gotten a custom doll made for his goddaughter after she complained one day that none of the ones at the store looked like her.

You’d picked out a riesling from your small stash of wine when you two arrived at your flat, remembering that’s what Harry preferred. You’d quickly changed into soft shorts and a graphic t-shirt, needing out of your dress, before the two of you settled on the floor and fell back into comfortable chatter.

It was probably for the better that he was the one speaking at the moment, because you could feel your head get fuzzier with each sip from your glass. As much as you tried to stay focused, you couldn’t help but run your eyes up his frame. He’d draped his blazer over the back of one of your barstools as he’d come in, leaving him in just his slacks and half-unbuttoned dress shirt. He looked stunning.

Harry noticed the way you were looking at him but elected not to say anything as he continued his story. “I’m really hoping she’s going to like it. How about you? Anything special you’ve gotten for anyone?”

His question snapped you out of your mild stupor, and you racked your brain. “Not really – I’m not nearly as prepared as you are. I only need to get a couple of things, though. Just something for my mom and a few for my friends. Nothing major.”

“No siblings?” He asked.

“Nope. Well, I do have them, but they’re my step-siblings, and I don’t think I’ve seen them since I was like 14 or so. My dad kind of packed them up and ran for the hills with his new wife at that point.” Your statement was blunt, and you picked at the skin around your nails as you explained. It wasn’t anything you had a hard time discussing anymore, given it had been upwards of 10 years. 

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry looked like he didn’t know what to say. You probably should have said that differently, you thought, not wanting to overshare and make him uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, Harry. It was a long time ago, and probably for the better. My mom and I have only gotten closer since then, and I wouldn’t change it.” He nodded in understanding with a small smile but didn’t respond, letting his gaze drift to the artwork hung over the mantle of the fireplace.

A hush fell between the two of you, the noise of the fire and your creaky New York City radiator the only things audible. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just calm and peaceful. You stood to open the window – the heat was getting to be too much. It was nearing midnight at this point, so there wasn’t much commotion on your street, but the sound of cars driving by now and then was familiar and soothing.

You returned to your seat, slightly closer to Harry than you had been previously. He seemed deep in thought, arm draped lazily over the seat of the couch behind him. His eyes hadn’t left the window after they followed your movement there.

“Whatcha thinking about?” You questioned softly, turning to face him and pulling your knees to your chest, leaning to rest your shoulder against the cushions. You didn’t mean to pry, but you wanted to know what was going on inside that pretty head of his.

“Honestly,” he exhaled, brows furrowing slightly, “you.”

“Me?” Not the answer you’d expected.

“Yes, you,” he spoke with a hint of teasing, flashing a quick smile at you before glancing away. “I was thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed myself this much on a date. I really like you, Y/N.” His eyes returned to yours like they were searching for your response.

His earnestness left you speechless for a moment. You stared back at him - his eyes were so green, so beautiful, like waves were crashing against white sand just behind his pupils.

“I like you too, Harry.” He relaxed slightly, shifting his position a hair. “This is definitely the best date I’ve been on in a long time.” You weren’t always great at expressing emotion, but it was only fair for him to know how you felt too.

He grinned, then, and pushed himself up to slide closer to you on the floor. His eyes were still locked on yours, both of you smiling at each other like giddy teenagers. His arm was almost around you now but remained on the couch as you lowered your legs, returning them to a cross-legged position. Harry reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear before allowing his hand to rest gently on the side of your neck, thumb caressing your jawbone slowly. He looked you up and down, again admiring how gorgeous you looked before flitting his eyes to your lips. 

He inhaled briskly, hand not halting its movements on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, of course. You don’t have to ask, but I appreciate it.” As much as you liked Harry being a gentleman, right now, you honestly just wanted him to be anything but.

He nodded quickly before pulling you forward, pressing his lips to yours. It started with slow, gentle movements of your lips together, but quickly became much more desperate. His hands roamed your face before moving to your waist, gripping the skin above your hips just firmly enough to drive you crazy. Your hands were pressed to his chest over his thin silk shirt, and you could feel the muscles there flex as he moved his hands around your body. You weren’t normally one to care about muscles, but something about his drove you crazy.

Harry’s thumbs brushed your lower ribs as he deepened the kiss, stealing your breath for a moment. Your hands instinctively moved to his hair, fingers knotting through and gently gripping his short curls. A small groan left his throat, shooting straight to your core. His hands suddenly gripped your hips harshly, lifting you to pull you into his lap. He swallowed the small gasp you let out as he did so, flattening his hands on your back to pull you against him as you settled on his thighs. The kiss was sloppy, now, almost depraved, as he tried to pull you as close as physically possible. The way you were tugging his hair was driving him wild, you could tell, and it only encouraged you.

You pulled away from his mouth for just a second as your fingers moved to toy with the small buttons of his shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Please,” Harry sighed, loosening his grip on you so you had the space to work. As you undid the last button, he pulled away from the couch and shrugged the shirt off, allowing it to fall onto the floor behind him.

He was breathtaking. At dinner, you could see the tattooed heads of what you assumed to be two small birds peeking out from under his shirt, but you weren’t expecting him to have so many more. Those swallows sat just underneath his collarbone, above a large butterfly on his stomach that almost appeared lifelike, the ink stretching and compressing as he breathed. His left arm was nearly covered in various small symbols and words, and you made a mental note to ask about them later. 

Your hands returned to his chest, this time without barriers. The skin there was soft to the touch but you could feel the firm muscle underneath. It was warm. Hot.

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a smirk at your wide-eyed gaze. After a few seconds of letting you stare, he pulled your lips back to his, unable to wait. It was just as desperate as before.

His large hands slowly slid down your back as your mouths moved together, finding the hem of your shirt before reaching underneath it to grab your hips. The feeling of his warm hands contrasted with the cold metal of the rings he wore, pulling a small gasp from you.

His firm grip on your hips was short-lived as his hands quickly began drifting upwards, thumbs slightly massaging your lower ribs. Fingers splayed on your back, Harry felt you pant into the kiss, unable to catch your breath.

He pulled away for a second, removing his hands from your skin. A small groan escaped you at the loss of warmth, which you hoped Harry didn’t notice. One hand moved to hold your face and the other bunched the hem of your shirt and tugged on it slightly. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, not breaking eye contact. He needed to make sure you were okay with it, just like he would with whatever else ended up happening that night.

You nodded quickly, helping him lift the shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor beside you. He gripped your shoulders and pushed you away slightly so he could see you.

Harry thought you were stunning. His eyes raked longingly over every inch of you - shoulders, arms, breasts, and stomach, taking it all in. His hands slid off your shoulders to press against your ribs again, thumbs brushing the skin just under your bra. He tore his eyes away from the fabric and skin, gazing at you slack-jawed with blown-out pupils.

“Y’so beautiful, Y/N,” he panted, words slurred slightly from the breathlessness, and your heart just about burst in your chest. You weren’t used to being looked at like this, and it made you nervous, but the look in Harry’s eyes told you there was nothing to be afraid of. He didn’t look like he just wanted to fuck you – he looked like he wanted to worship you.

Instead of a response, you smashed your lips back to his. One of the hands gripping your ribs shifted to cup you over your bra, and you couldn’t help the moan that you let out. This only spurred Harry on as he followed suit, groaning into your mouth. The noise was divine – a low, throaty rumble that went straight to your core.

You needed more of his skin on you. Now. 

You reached behind yourself and unhooked your bra, shaking it off your shoulders until it dropped to the floor on top of your shirt. While you appreciated Harry asking for permission to continue with everything, you couldn’t wait until he worked up the nerve to ask you before feeling his bare hands on your chest.

He took your invitation to continue grasping at your breast, this time with no barrier. A louder moan left you as his thumb brushed over your nipple, electricity pulsing through your veins. Harry groaned into your mouth again, his other hand resting on your ass and bringing it forward until you sat directly on top of his length. It pressed deliciously against you, pulling another gasp from your throat. He was hard beneath you as you ground back on him, hips rocking in sync with the kiss.

You broke away for a moment to catch your breath, continuing to move against him. Your head fell back until you were panting up at the ceiling. Harry wasted no time in connecting his lips with your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, licks, and soft bites along it and down to your shoulder blades. The room was quiet apart from the symphony of both of your breathing, the crackle of the fire, and the odd car passing by.

He continued to kiss down your body to the soft tissue of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth. The feeling was heaven as his tongue flicked the bud before moving to the other side, his thumb replacing it. His other hand was reaching down your stomach to the button of your shorts, toying with the seams of the fabric. He removed his mouth from you, and you had to hold back a whine of disappointment.

“Is it alright if we get these off of you?” he asked tenderly, staring into you again. You nodded hastily, helping him unbutton them and lifting your hips so he could pull the fabric down your legs and over your knees. You kicked them off, leaving you in just your underwear as he looked you up and down again.

With the layer of fabric gone, your center met his again. You could feel the warmth radiating from his shaft as you pressed onto him, the two of you both groaning in pleasure. The rigid zipper of his pants rubbed firmly against your clit addictively.

A sudden wave of insecurity rushed over you as you realized the situation you’d put yourself in. Here you were, on a blind date with a near stranger, and you were already sitting on top of him in just your underwear while he was still in his pants. It wasn’t like you to give in to a man this quickly, but Harry’s face and smile and body and charm had gotten into your head and pushed away your ability to reason. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be doing this - it was quite the opposite, you were having a lovely time. You just didn’t want Harry to think you were easy, or that this was your plan.

You didn’t realize your movements against Harry had stilled until he was holding your face again, forcing you to look at him. He knew you were in your head about something, and he needed to find out what before taking things any further.

“Y/N, hey, what’s wrong? Do y’need to stop?” His voice was thick with concern as he searched your eyes for discomfort. You shook your head hurriedly, not wanting him to think you weren’t enjoying yourself.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you sighed, face flushing in embarrassment. “I’m just– I’m not usually the type to fuck on the first date. I don’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you.”

“Well, ‘f it helps, I wasn’t planning on having sex with you tonight.” Before you could react negatively (as you were about to) he quickly continued, “I just want to make you feel good tonight. You said you’ve been stressed out all week about work, and I just want to make that go away for you for a while. S’that okay, baby?”

Of course, he knew the perfect thing to say. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head at how considerate he was, and the pet name at the end was the cherry on top. “That sounds really nice. Thank you, Harry.”

He chuckled before lifting your hips off of his and setting you on the floor next to him, making sure you were close to the fireplace so you didn’t get cold. His hands prompted you to turn your body so you were parallel to the couch. One hand took root in your hair while the other caressed the bare skin on your hip as he kissed you again, slower this time. Harry used your hair as leverage to slowly pull you down until you were on your back on the floor, him slotted between your open legs.

“I want to take care of you, sweetheart, is that okay?” As if you would say no.

Your whiny ‘yes’ was rewarded with his hands caressing your inner thighs slowly, teasingly. You assumed you were noticeably soaked, the baby pink cotton of your underwear unforgiving when it came to hiding your arousal. He massaged the soft skin, moving upwards until his thumb brushed over the fabric’s seam nestled in the crease of your thigh. Your hips moved of their own accord, lifting in search of any friction they could find. Harry tsked quietly, securing a hand on your hip and pushing it back down on the floor.

He rolled onto his side from between your legs, supporting himself on an elbow with his hand cradling your head and wrapping an ankle around your leg to keep them open. His other hand traced a soft line over the wet patch between your legs, fingers brushing your clit with a feather-light touch. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harry, please,” you whined, trying to regulate your breathing. 

He chuckled teasingly. “What d’you need, baby? Use your words.”

“I need –” you cut yourself off, unsure of why you were embarrassed to say it when you knew he already knew what you wanted. “I need you to touch me, please.”

That was all he needed before he slipped his fingers underneath your underwear and swiped them through your wet folds. The contact was heavenly, forcing a choked moan from your throat as he drew circles around your clit in a precise rhythm. He was obviously experienced, building that warm feeling in your stomach faster than even you could yourself.

“Need these off,” he ordered, tugging your underwear down your legs and helping you kick them off before he hooked an ankle around your knee and spread your legs again. His hand returned to your core, this time with his thumb pressing on your clit and his middle finger teasing your entrance. Your soft groan encouraged him to slide it into you, pulling a myriad of lush sounds from your mouth as he pumped in and out. When he curled his fingers into you and brushed against the spongy patch that felt so good, you thought you were a goner. That was until he slipped his ring finger in alongside his middle and picked up his motions on your clit once more. It didn’t take long at all for you to reach the edge, the feeling building in your insides until you felt like a rubber band about to snap.

“Harry, I’m gonna –” a prolonged moan interrupted your statement.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he spoke softly in your ear, leaving a small kiss on your cheekbone. “Let it go for me.”

That was all you needed. The rubber band inside you snapped, and your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. You clenched tightly around Harry’s fingers, hips writhing, as he worked you through your release. He whispered praises in your ear but you could barely hear them as the room seemed to disappear, leaving just you and the feeling of Harry’s touch. You had to grip his wrist to remove his hand from you after a few seconds, the continued motion turning overstimulating quickly. 

After taking a moment to catch your breath, you rolled onto your side to throw an arm around Harry’s neck and pull him closer to you. Your nakedness was catching up to you as not even the warmth from the fireplace was enough.

Harry quickly realized how cold you were and turned to grab the throw blanket off of the couch, draping it over both of you. That was something you were quickly learning about Harry – he was very attentive, and he seemed to be able to anticipate your needs before you even realized them yourself.

After a few moments of quiet, the sounds of your breathing mixing with the other ambient noises, you spoke. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything for you? I feel bad leaving you, you know, high and dry.”

He laughed, leaning down to press a kiss against your hair. “I promise m’okay, Y/N. What you can do for me, though, is let me clean you up and get you in bed. Our backs are going to kill us tomorrow if we stay on this floor any longer.”

----------

After Harry helped you clean up and change into a fresh pair of pajamas, he slipped out of his trousers, leaving him in just his boxers. You’d both crawled into your bed, and you rested your head against his bare chest as his arm stroked small circles on your shoulder. It took everything in you not to fall asleep, but you didn’t want this night with him to end quite yet.

“Harry?” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere in the room with your words.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you for everything tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed myself this much, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

“Y’ don’t have to thank me – I had just as good of a time. You’re really special, Y/N. I’d love to do this again, if you’d let me?”

“Which part?” you laughed, “the dinner part or the after-dinner part?”

“Well, honestly, preferably both.” You were both laughing now, his stomach muscles tensing under your hand. 

“I think I’d be okay with that,” you agreed, knowing deep down you’d probably beg on your hands and knees for him to let you see him again.

“Thank you, baby. Now get some sleep.” He pressed another kiss to your hair and pulled you tighter to his chest, his other hand ensuring the blankets were tucked snugly around your shoulders before he allowed his body to sink back against the pillows. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a certain brown-haired boy that you knew wouldn’t be leaving your mind anytime soon.