#That doesn't sound good... (jumps out of window

[for-the-evulz]

THIA FUCKING GIF I MADE IS GOJNG TO KILL ME

[neilsbeloved]

currently thinking about: clark kent flashing you right before you head off for work (18+)

it all started with that damn groan. that type of deep, throaty, guttural groan that you can feel in your core every time clark does it.

most of the time it tells you that clark's just woken up, that he had just finished having some fun on dreamland somewhere.

on rare times, it's an intentional way of getting your attention.

seven in the morning, you woke up, slipped away from bed, cooked enough breakfast for you to bring to work, and for clark to eat later when he wakes up. you two work at the same place—the daily planet—although your job position requires you to be at the planet way earlier than him.

you got ready after preparing your lunch. showering alone and getting ready in the other room—which clark had made specifically to be the office-slash-dressing-room for you considering the mountain of clothing you had even when you two were just boyfriends and girlfriends.

when you head back to your shared room to grab your bag and do some last minute checks for your hair and make-up, you hear that groan from behind you.

at first it was nothing. you greet him a good morning, even asking him how his sleep was—just the usual sweet and gooey stuff you two do as newlyweds. but then clark doesn't respond. at least not in a very appropriate way with the way he's still groaning from behind you.

you turn around confusedly, eyes glaring at your husband who seemed to be storing a wicked idea in that head of his.

"i've already cooked you breakfast, clark, make sure you eat some before you come to work, okay?" you remind him, slinging your bag on your shoulder as you spray on some perfume.

clark hums, running his hand down his firm abdomen. "you leavin' already?"

"uh-huh. tess just called and they need me as soon as possible somethin' about the legalities and stuff… whatever that is. i'll probably just skip over it, y'know how tess gets with those legal stuff," you ramble, clipping on your earrings.

you glance at your husband, his eyes still heavy with sleepiness as he had his one arm stretched behind him, the muscles on his neck and biceps flexing naturally.

there's a dryness in your throat and a wetness in your core just from that view. taking everything in you not to just throw tess' request out of the window and jump on your husband's bones first thing in the morning.

you shake those inappropriate thoughts away, blowing off a breath as you looked at yourself through the mirror.

"i'm off now, baby. go and get off your ass now," you walk over to his side of the bed, originally meaning to give him a kiss on the cheek when he moves his head just in time to catch your lips.

a huff leaves your throat, slapping him lightly on his bare chest as you push him away. "clark, i need to head to the office."

the glint in clark's eyes tells you he's not letting you go that easily but the way he pulls away says otherwise. plastering on a lazy smile on his lips as he nods, telling you i love you in his deep and drowsy voice.

you smile, saying the words back before heading to the door.

before you even turn the knob, you hear him call—groan—your name. the very sound making you stop abruptly, hand tightening on the doorknob.

he calls you again. this time, with a bit more strain in his voice.

"clark, what—" the exact moment you turn around, clark's pulled down the covers just below his knee, his cock springing up tall and proud.

you swallow on nothing. "clark."

"yes, baby?" he tilts his head, voice and eyes innocent, contradicting the way his free hand quickly descended down his body and onto the tip of his hard cock. the sheer size of his cock compared to his already massive hand had you subtly squeezing your legs. "i thought you had to go to work?"

your eyes shoot up at his face, the lazy smirk on his lips telling you he's got you exactly where he wants you—frozen by the door, legs clenched, eyes stuck on the lewd movements of his hand.

you blink. "you're an asshole, y'know that, right?"

"i don't know what you're—" he grunts, adjusting himself on the bed as his chest flexes. his features straining when you see his hand smother the pre-cum leaking on his tip down the length of his cock. "—talking 'bout, sweetheart. i'll… i'll be at the office in a few hours."

you sigh, shaking your head irritatedly as you throw your bag on the pile of clothes on the floor. hands quickly unbuttoning your coat and throwing it away too.

clark grins victoriously, moving to the center of the mattress as you come onto the bed. legs immediately going on either side of thighs.

his big, strong hands grabbing at your hips, massaging the clothed flesh before he pulls up your pencil skirt to bunch at your waist. fingers quickly making their way at your center. he chuckles lightly when he feels your wetness already seeping through the cotton fabric of your panties.

you drop your chest down on his, the fabric of your top scratching against his bare skin. he locks his lips onto yours, hungrily nipping at your bottom lip before you let him in without a fight.

your arm reaches down, grabbing a hold of his cock making him chuckles into the kiss. "i thought you had work to do?"

you roll your eyes, letting him adjust the two of you as he sits up so he can rest his back on the headboard. his knees propped up and legs spread apart, giving you enough room to work with. you pull your panties to the side, already angling yourself on the tip when you feel him hold your body.

"baby, it's gonna hurt," he says, the look of lust on his eyes disappearing for a second as his voice drips of concern. "let me eat you out first, c'mon, it'll be quick. get you all nice and—oohh fuck."

clark's offer was cut short when you sink down on his cock, loud gasps slipping from both of your mouths. you drop forward, head on the crook of his neck as you clutched his shoulders, letting your cunt barely adjust to his size.

"you're such an overachiever," clark clicks his tongue, holding onto your sides. feeling the way your sweet cunt pulses around the length of his cock like its begging for more.

the moment the stinging subsides and pleasure starts registering, your hips get to work.

you use his shoulders for leverage as you bounce on his cock, desperately trying to push yourself over the edge, slowly feeling yourself drip down his cock.

"so good, fuck—so fucking big, clark," you moan, pulling your head up to watch his pleasured face. eyebrows knitted, lips freely letting out low grunts. "did you dream about me? dreamt about this pussy?"

"yes, shit, i-i dreamt about this goddamn cunt begging for me," he grunts, shifting his hips just slightly. the change in angle making you gasp, your hands falling down to his pecs.

clark leans forward, kissing up your exposed throat as your eyes rolled back. the tip of his cock finding your sweet spot in a moment, hitting it deliciously with each time you drop your ass on his cock. his teeth sinks onto your clavicle, just enough to have you clenching around him.

his hips thrust up as a response, cock twitching inside of you. loud pleads of his name spilled from your lips. using every bit of your energy to keep your pace steady but it was hard when the ache intensifies with each second.

"still got some energy in you, baby? don't wanna tire you out before you—h-head off to work." clark struggles to get his words out, the pleasure making him close his eyes harshly. pulling you impossibly closer as his arms wrap around you.

"should've thought of that before you showed me your cock, pretty boy," you responded, losing your hands in his hair as your hips stutter.

clark laughs breathlessly, littering kisses all over your face now, probably messing up your makeup—not that you cared.

"sorry baby," one hand drops to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh before landing a loud slap on it. you hiss, clenching around him even tighter. "you just looked so fuckin' good… can't—shit," clark stops to rest his forehead on yours, feeling his climax coming, "so good, baby, riding—bouncing on that goddamn cock like you need it."

"i need it," your voice heightens, the feeling in your core tightening. "i need it so bad, clark, fuck me, please—just give it so me." 

clark's lips pull to a smirk, both hands now on yours ass before he starts helping you bounce yourself on his cock. every inch, every vein that ran through his cock etching itself on your gummy walls like it was field notes.

your moans turn into incoherent begging, clark's name leaving your lips like a damned prayer as clark himself struggled to keep his moans in.

he continued helping you up and down his cock, meeting your cunt with thrusts of his own. the walls shaking with how harsh he's driving himself into you. he's gripping your ass tightly, cock twitching as you clench uncontrollably.

"don't stop, don't stop—right there! o-oh! clark!"

"yeah? right there, baby?" clark watches as you drop one hand to your chest, fondling yourself shamelessly whole he focuses on fucking you even deeper—harder.

when he feels your legs twitch, threatening to close around his body, he knows for a fact you're close.

clark takes one hand away from your ass and slides it over your slit, expertly finding your clit as he begins to rub messy circles on the bundle of nerves.

you scream, finding every nerve on your body on fire. clark's name bouncing off the walls like a cry for help while clark desperately groaned yours. the lewd sound of skin on skin slamming against each other filling your ears.

one more thrust from clark on that spot and you're spilling hopelessly all over his cock, stars appearing in your eyes as you shook on top of him. shortly after, you feel him slow down, letting you work down your high as you feel his own come paint your insides. the feeling made you moan deeply, your body stiff and eyes rolled back.

clark rolls his hips, kissing all over your cheeks and forehead as he leans back on the headboard. his hands intertwining with yours as he takes you in for a warm kiss—a stark difference from the way he was moving a few seconds ago.

"that was…" clark's breathless, chest heaving up and down. "…wow."

your eyes peel open, clark's fucked-out eyes and disheveled hair making you clench around his length one more time.

"you're driving me to work." you tell him, jabbing a manicured finger on his chest.

clark laughs when you get off of his lap, your knees nearly giving out, almost falling to the wooden floor if not for clark quickly holding your waist with one hand.

he gives your ass one more slap before he gets off of the bed, towering over you with a lovestruck smile.

"yes, ma'am."

(yes, this is inspired by one of those tiktoks where someone flashes their partner right before they head to work)

[ilovolderman]

The Match

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: While secretly dating You, Bucky gets roped into a dating app by Sam

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating, light jealousy

A/N: this can be read as a standalone even though it's part of a series called "You Said What" (this is already part 5, so yes, im calling it a series.) It doesn't necessarily follow a specific order, but if you want to check out the other parts, here they are: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4. thanks for reading, i hope you like it :)

The kitchen was warm and quiet, filled with the soft morning light pouring in through the big windows. You were curled up on the counter in one of Bucky’s henleys — technically yours now, since you’d claimed it after “accidentally” falling asleep in it two months ago. He hadn’t asked for it back.

Bucky stood between your legs, his hands resting gently on your thighs as he stole tiny sips from your coffee cup every time you lowered it.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes at him as he swiped it again.

He smirked, brushing a thumb over your knee. “Can’t help it. Yours always tastes better.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned forward anyway, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He caught you halfway and turned it into a real kiss — slow, unhurried, the kind that made time feel irrelevant.

You sighed against his lips. “If you keep kissing me like that, we’re never gonna eat.”

“We can skip breakfast,” he murmured, voice low, teasing.

“And deal with Sam’s ‘someone didn’t have their Wheaties’ speech again? No thanks.”

Bucky groaned and stepped back, reluctantly, while you hopped off the counter. You started prepping your coffee again, and he leaned close to watch.

“One scoop…” he counted aloud.

You snuck a glance at him and grinned. “Three.”

“Three?” he fake-gasped. “You planning to vibrate through walls?”

“Says the guy who had four yesterday.”

“Three and a half,” he corrected, deadpan.

You snorted. “Uh-huh. Keep lying to yourself, grandpa.”

He gave you a playful glare but said nothing, instead leaning over to steal one of your toast slices like a thief in the night.

And then — of course — the kitchen door swung open.

“Okay, what the hell is this domestic energy?” Sam’s voice boomed as he walked in. “Am I interrupting a rom-com or—?”

You and Bucky practically jumped apart like teenagers caught red-handed. You reached for the peanut butter like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Morning,” you both said, far too casually, far too in sync.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Weird. Anyway…”

He turned to Bucky, eyes narrowing as he opened the fridge. “You look grumpier than usual.”

“I always look like this.”

“That’s what worries me,” Sam said, pulling out the orange juice. “You need a little somethin’ in your life. A spark. Some romance.”

You snorted into your coffee. “Wow, subtle.”

Sam shot you a grin. “I’m serious, Bucky. You look miserable and I’m sick of it. Your need to get out there. Meet people. Real people. People who don’t, y’know, punch aliens for a living.”

“I’m not miserable,” Bucky muttered, taking a very aggressive bite of toast.

Sam ignored him. “You need someone to, like, hold your hand and remind you that the world isn’t complete garbage.”

“Y/N does that,” Bucky said before realizing. His eyes flicked to you. Yours widened slightly.

“Uh— I mean…” he coughed. “You could. You’re good at pep talks.”

Smooth. Real smooth.

But Sam was too busy with his phone to notice the weird energy. “Anyway, I’m gonna download Spark for you.”

“Oh no,” you whispered.

“Oh yes.” Sam grinned, typing furiously. “It’s like Tinder but for people who still believe in feelings.”

“Delete it,” Bucky said immediately.

“Too late. Already making your profile. Okay — full name?”

“Absolutely not.”

Sam looked up. “Fine, we’ll just put ‘Bucky B.’ You sound like a retired DJ. Age... one-oh-six... but we’ll round down to thirty-five. Close enough.”

You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stop from laughing. Bucky looked like he was actually malfunctioning.

“Give me your phone. I'm deleting it.”

“Nope.” Sam sidestepped him and kept typing. “Bio time. What do you want it to say? ‘Strong, silent, may or may not have trauma, will kill spiders for you’?”

“Sam.”

“Oh! And profile picture.” Sam’s grin went feral. “I’m gonna use the one from Clint’s barbecue.”

Bucky froze. “No. Not the one where—”

“Yup,” Sam said, turning the phone around dramatically. “The one where you’re smiling. A real smile. The people gotta see the goods, man.”

You wheezed. “That’s actually a really good picture.”

“It is,” Sam agreed, tapping to save the profile. “Now we wait. Trust me, you're gonna get matches faster than Tony blows money.”

Bucky looked physically pained.

And then… the phone buzzed.

“Oh snap — you already got a match! Girl named Olivia.” Sam said, scrolling like a man on a mission. “Look at this—she hikes, she volunteers at animal shelters. Honestly, Buck, she’s like a Hallmark movie in human form. You should totally message her.”

You blinked.

Something inside you twisted — that unwelcome, unmistakable burn of jealousy curling in your chest.

Bucky looked… surprised. And then cautious. “That was fast.”

“She’s cute,” Sam said, scrolling. “She said you have nice eyes. You should message her. Or better yet, go on a date. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You forced a laugh. “Yeah, Buck. You should totally go.”

Bucky turned toward you slowly. His smile had faded into something softer. Thoughtful. He tilted his head, studying your face like it was a puzzle he was halfway through solving.

“…Maybe,” he said carefully, like he was testing the word.

You smiled a little too tightly. “Good for you.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, like he could see right through you.

You lasted approximately six hours before cracking. Not that you were counting.

You’d spent the day trying not to think about Olivia. Or her "kind eyes". Or the fact that Bucky had apparently matched with her in under a minute. Not that it mattered, obviously. You were cool. Chill. Entirely unaffected.

…Until Bucky found you in the hallway on your way back to your room, grabbed your hand, and wordlessly tugged you into his.

He shut the door behind you, arms crossed. He didn't look mad. Just… knowing.

You tried to play it cool. “If this is about the last cookie, I swear I thought it was mine.”

“It’s not about the cookie.”

You looked up at him, heart thudding. “Then what?”

Bucky’s eyes didn’t waver. “You told me to go. Like it didn’t bother you.”

You scoffed lightly, trying to brush it off. “I was just being cool. Y’know, chill. Unbothered.”

“You were seething, doll.”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest tightened. “Okay, maybe a little. So what?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away. He just watched you for a second, his silence pressing gently around your walls. Not demanding, not accusing — just waiting for you to be honest.

You exhaled and leaned back against the door. “I know I said it didn’t bother me, but the second Sam said you matched with someone, it was like—like my stomach dropped out.”

His brow furrowed, stepping closer.

You continued, voice softer. “I know you love me. I do. But the idea of someone else getting even a piece of you… I hated it. And that scared me. I didn’t want to be the clingy one or the insecure one or the girl who flips out over some dumb dating app.”

Bucky’s face softened completely. “Hey.”

He closed the gap and cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You are not insecure. You’re not clingy. You’re human. And you love me.” He kissed your forehead gently. “I want you to care.”

Your chest cracked wide open, and you let yourself lean into him.

“I don’t want to share you, Buck,” you whispered. “Not even a little.”

“You never have to,” he murmured. “You’ve got all of me. Always.”

“…So what about Olivia?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

He shrugged. “I unmatched her hours ago. Right after you said good for you like you were trying not to cry.”

You gaped. “You what?”

Bucky smirked. “The only person I want… is you.”

Your heart stuttered, full and aching and impossibly light all at once. “Bucky—”

“You’ve had me from the moment you stole my henley and never gave it back.” His voice was barely a whisper. “You don’t have to be chill. You don’t have to play it cool. You already have all of me.”

Your laugh was shaky, but your smile was real. “Even if I get all weird over fictional matches on dating apps?”

He grinned. “Especially then.”

You leaned into him, your fingers curling around the hem of his shirt. “So you’re not going on a date with Olivia?”

“Nope,” he said, nuzzling your nose with his. “Unless you change your name and start volunteering at animal shelters.”

You snorted. “I would for you.”

Bucky kissed you then — sweet, slow, soft. The kind of kiss that made you forget all the awkward moments of the morning. The kind that made you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

You laughed into the kiss, your fingers curling around his shirt. “You absolute...”

“—Boyfriend material?” Bucky finished, hopeful.

You smiled, lighter than you had all day. “Absolutely.”

Somewhere down the hall, Sam shouted, “I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DELETED SPARK—!”

You broke apart, laughing breathlessly. “We should probably tell him.”

Bucky sighed into your neck. “Or we fake our deaths and disappear into the Alps.”

“Tempting.”

next part

taglist: @svtbpbts @cupids-mf-arrow @whitewolfluvr @cece2608 @yehfitoormera @yesiamthatwierd

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hit The Gas

[Written to 'Renegade (We Never Run)' from Arcane]

Technically speaking, Mr. Masters, Gotham's new aspiring crime lord, did provide them with a getaway car. It's just that, in Tim's honest, objective opinion, said car sucks major ass.

First of all, it's white, which is, well, not the best color for disappearing into the night. Then, it's old — not vintage old, thank fuck, but definitely made before 2005 — and long overdue for a makeover. Tim doesn't see a single part of it that doesn't have a scratch or a dent on it, and are those bullet holes on the passenger door?

Eh, whatever, this is a staged escape anyway. Tim doesn't need it to be successful, he only needs an alibi. Someone — their driver, in this case — to later tell Masters that Alvin Draper did everything he could to keep the package safe. So he can stay in the man's moderately good graces even after they get caught by Batman tonight.

Tim makes it to the car first, throws the back door open and slides inside in one motion, slamming it behind him. Jason, the drama queen, jumps in through the open window and into the front passenger seat.

"Hit the gas, they are on our heels!" He yells at the driver, struggling to turn himself over and put his ass in the seat. Serves him right, opening the door and getting in the normal way would have taken literally two seconds.

The car jolts into movement without a moment of hesitation — so at least the driver has a good reaction time — but Tim still hears a dull sound of a betarang hitting the rear end of it. Nice throw, Cass!

It's only then that he cares to actually look around and realize a few things. A few, arguably, very important things. Like the fact that their driver is a redhead girl who looks barely sixteen. Or that there are two kids, looking no older than ten, in the back seat beside him.

He blinks and stares. The kids — both boys, one of them white as milk with a dark mop of hair and the other one black, wearing glasses and a red beanie — pay no mind to either him, Jason in the front seat, or the speed the car is going at. In fact, they pay no attention to the outside world as a whole, hunched over an outdated PSP. They are playing it together, one of the kids in charge of action buttons and the other one controlling the D-pad, so Tim can understand the need to focus: it takes some impressive teamwork to sucessfully go through the game like that. And they are using some complicated combos while at it, wow.

Wait, no, this is such a wrong time to marvel at videogame skills! They are kids, in a car, in a getaway car, in the middle of a car chase with the fucking Batman!

They take a sharp turn, and Tim grabs onto the handle in order to not bump into the door.

"Oh, you didn't tell me we're racing with the Batmobile," the redhead girl says, but it sounds surprisingly nice and polite, like she's merely asking about the weather.

"Yeah, well, we didn't expect that kind of trouble either," Jason snaps back, scrunching his nose, but the girl just laughs softly.

"No, don't worry. It's no trouble," she assures almost gently, and then reaches one hand behind the seat without looking, tapping the black boy on the knee, "Tucker, sweetheart, switch with me?"

Hold on, what?..

"But Ja-a-azz," the white boy whines.

"We've just got to the boss fight," Tucker pouts, but the redhead just taps his knee more insistently.

"And I'm sure you'll get to it again after we make it out," she says, still perfectly polite and collected. Tim glances out the window. Either this girl has nerves of steel or there's something very wrong with both her and the kids; they are going at least 95 mph, and she keeps only one hand on the wheel like it's nothing.

"Ugh, fine," the kid rolls his eyes and nudges his friend in the shoulder, passing him the console, "Save it, I'll get the cord."

"What cord?" Tim asks because he thought this was a simple undercover mission, but now he gets a sneaking suspicion there's a lot more to it than it looked.

Tucker, with one hand under the driver's seat and searching for something blindly, turns to glare at him.

"The control-cord," he answers like the dumb one here is Tim, "How else do you think- A-ha!" His face lights up as he emerges victorious from under the seat, holding... Yeah, a cord, okay. Which he plugs into the PSP that the other boy hands him without prompting.

"Maybe fasten your seat belts, this is about to get interesting," Jazz offers, but doesn't do so herself. Neither of the kids do it either, and Jason just snorts dismissively.

"You're saying it wasn't 'interesting' before?" There's definitely some teasing in his voice. Tim looks down to the package in his lap, a metal box holding some unknown but evidently very important content.

He fastens his seat belt just in time. The car jerks and speeds up — they are definitely past 110 now. And Jazz is not holding the wheel.

It only takes a moment for Tim to connect the dots and look to the PSP in Tucker's hands. Sure enough, instead of a game, his screen is now a perfect replica of the car's windshield in real time, and his fingers are firmly placed on controls. Like he's done it hundreds of times.

They are racing the Batmobile, and a ten-year-old is driving. This mission is fucking wild.

"Brakes, brakes, BRAKES!" Jason yells from the front, and Tim only gets a moment to notice the quickly approaching back of a truck in front of them and realize they are going to crash before their car just goes through it with no resistance. He even looks in the back window to make sure he didn't hallucinate the truck, but no, it's still there and still real.

Did they... Phase through it?..

"What the fuck," he mutters under his breath.

"Language, there are kids in the car," Jazz chides him with a huff of laughter, and then there's a click.

"What the f- fudge," Jason repeats the question, albeit much louder and way more alarmed than Tim before.

When he turns back around, the redhead is holding a grenade launcher. It doesn't look like a model Tim is familiar with, but it's for some reason painted white, just like their car. Is that some kind of Masters' thing?

Wait, that's a grenade launcher.

Jazz ties her hair in the back in less than two seconds and then reaches up to the roof of the car, pressing a button to open the sunroof.

"Wait, you can't shoot a vigilante, they'll-" Tim yells over the wind, but Jazz just smiles at him and stands up on the driver's seat, peeking out and taking position. Tim throws a panicked look at Jason — they sure didn't plan for anything like this. The car chase was supposed to be over in less than a few minutes, none of them thought that Masters, a fairly new figure in the Gotham underground, would have a kind of vehicle that can phase through things and drive at- at 150 mph through the city roads! Not to mention some strange fucking kids and a teenage with grenades!

"She won't kill anyone," a voice comes from Tim's side, and when he turns his head, he finds the other kid, the one he doesn't know the name of, looking at him, his eyes calm and unblinking. And slightly glowing, okay, and here he was, thinking this clusterfuck of a ride can't get any weirder.

"How do you know?" Tim snaps because there's only so much he can deal with at once in the span of five minutes. The kid shrugs.

"It's Jazz. She has morals," he says, like the word disgusts him, and Tucker huffs a laugh.

"You have them, too. Vlad and Dan killed people before, though," he argues, his eyes still glued to the screen of the PSP.

"Not in Gotham," his friend adds, seemingly just for the sake of having the last word in the argument.

Whatever Tim wants to say back gets cut off by a sound of a gunshot. He turns to the back window again, his heart stuck in his throat, but it looks like the white kid was right: the roaring Batmobile is still on their heels. Whatever the redhead tried to do, she missed.

"Danny, on three!" Jazz yells from above, and the kid springs to action like he's been waiting for this moment his whole life.

"One!"

Tucker moves out of the way as Danny climbs over him and towards Tim, unceremoniously shoves the precious metal box away and all but falls into Tim's lap despite his loud yet wordless sounds of protest.

"Two!"

The boy yanks the latch and throws the door open, leaning down while still sprawled over Tim's knees, and Tim grabs the back of his shirt out of reflex. It doesn't matter that the whole thing is a disaster, he's not letting a ten-year-old fall out of the car on his watch.

"Three!"

There's a loud pop somewhere behind them, and the car suddenly turns and drifts sideways, the sound of skidding tires grating on Tim's ears. Yet, he still feels Danny move and sees him reach and touch the ground. There's a short moment of panic — at this kind of speed, the pavement will shave the skin off the boy's hands in seconds — but then there's a shimmer of white bursting from Danny's palms.

When Tim looks up, the road behind them is covered in ice, the smooth surface of it shining in the yellow light of streetlamps. And, a bit further, there's a thick layer of smoke that should definitely hide them from the view of pursuers.

Smoke grenades. And ice powers. That explains the glowing eyes, Danny must be a meta.

The car shifts again, changing directions, and Tim, almost like in slow-mo, sees the metal box that they've gone to such great lengths to steal, slide towards the open door and tip over the edge.

He is still holding Danny's shirt, and the boy is still hanging halfway out of the car.

The seat belt is pressing tightly into his chest.

The box falls out, and Tim shuts his eyes close. Fuck it, he can fail the mission, it's not the end of the world, Jason can still try and weasel his way into Masters' close circle, and Bruce would understand if Tim explains why quickly enough, it's okay, no big deal-

"Gotcha!" Danny yells cheerfully as the car makes a sharp turn and comes to a halt all of a sudden.

Tim opens his eyes.

Danny, a wide, wicked grin on his face, is holding the box in his hands.

"You're a little shit," Tim breathes out, and the boy laughs, wiggling on Tim's lap and trying to get back inside the car.

"Born and raised," he answers with such a shit-eating expression on his face that Tim doesn't even bother holding back his urge for petty revenge. He releases his death grip on the back of Danny's shirt and gleefully watches the brat lose his balance and faceplant the ground.

The 'quick' undercover mission is sure getting an extension, but somehow, he can't bring himself to feel bad about the fact.

[finallychaoticeffigy]

Yandere kidnapper x reader

(He's hot...)

You jolt as thunder struck .You have always been afraid of thunder. The sudden intense noise always puts you on edge. However it's not just the volume, it’s the way it breaks the silence and reminds you shits can always happen the moment you least expect.

But there's nothing more terrifying than this monstrous man embracing you like there's no tomorrow.

His big arm wrap tightly around your waist while the other roams freely around other parts of your body. Lips attacking your neck groaning in satisfaction.

He always does this, he never gets sick of it. In fact it almost felt like hes addicted. Furthermore, he doesn't even wear a t-shirt around you, you once questioned him about this.

"Y/n your my lover, besides it helps me feel you more. Fucking clothes just get in the way baby." He responded with care as he kissed your cheeks.

He always whispers sweet things about you, how much he loves you and not just for your body but the whole you,how you're so perfect, your personality being the sweetest. How beautiful you are and how he would die and kill for you.

He always makes time for you. No matter how busy he is, just one word from you and he'll set it all aside just to spend time with you. He always takes care of you, give your needs and wants, you see you didn't even need to lift a finger, you just need to depend on him.

He truly is the best man. Any girl would love to have him, you too.... to be honest. It would all be so sweet. If....If he didn't kidnapped you months ago and forced you to stay with him.

He has brought you into a huge mansion in the woods with no human insight. 'I want us to be together with no interruption , others can go and fuck themselves. Now come here and gimme my morning kiss' you remembered him say once.

At first you tried to escape, but how could you , the windows from your room are way too high to jump and he doesn't even let you out of this stupid bedroom. So you started behaving to gain his trust until you're allowed to roam outside this room.

Your hardwork pays off , he starts trusting you more, you begin to wander around the mansion, taking notes inside your head, thinking ways for your escape.

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

You gradually felt him asleep beside you. You sighed in relief. The sleeping pills have worked. Now's your chance, you have waited for so long for this moment.

You slowly began to separate his arms around you. Careful not to wake him up. You felt your breath stopped for a moment as he groaned.

"Y/n " brows knit together, calling you in his sleep. Goodness even in his sleep, he probably held you captive too.

You successfully detached his arms , heart beating fast as you hurriedly got up and quietly like a mouse ran through the door , you didn't look back you just closed the door hoping not to make a sound.

You ran downstairs adrenaline rush through your veins. When you see the main door you dash as if your life depends on it, well because it did.

You twist the knob.....Locked. How could you be so stupid, of course he would lock it, especially at night. You tried to break the door but it was useless. You ran through the other direction, you would try to get out of the other doors you always saw when you're wandering around.

"Fuck my life" you cursed, it's not working, this was the 8th door you tried yet you couldn't get out.

"Y/n ! Sweetheart where are you ? ! " You knew that deep voice very well, it's him. How could he have woken up so fast?!

Tears began to form your eyes . Everything's useless now. You started to blame yourself. If only you're strong enough. This wouldn't have happened. But you knew very well you couldn't do anything about it.

He stormed inside the room with the same window you were planning to use as an escape route. You shrieked as he once again, wrapped around you like a snake.

"Baby why are you always running away from me?"

"I-i am sorry, i di-"

"Shh.... there there i forgive you...I love you too much to even get mad at you" he cooed like he was talking to a baby , kissing your hair gently.

"But I sure am fucking pissed about how you lied straight to my damn face when you said you weren't gonna run away baby" he bit your neck hard as you tremble in fear.

He picks you up still squeezing you tight. "Now... let's go to our bedroom and make up for it"

[nana-au]

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 | and you're the (un)willing victim MDNI

warnings: afab/fem!reader, aged up characters, basically non-con, canon yuji/sukuna body sharing, sukuna calls you little bunny/little girl and yuji kid, spanking, nasty dirty sloppy fucking, multiple positions, cream pie, yuji secretly enjoys every second

all was quiet in the tokyo dorms of jujutsu high. crickets chirped outside your open window, your blinds flowing softly from the steady breeze outside. your sleeping body was unable to fight the goosebumps that kissed your skin. the chill swept across your room, your nipples perking up beneath your button-up pajama top. despite the frosty draft, you're still blissfully asleep when the door to your room creaks open. the towering figure of your classmate and good friend yuji stalks towards you, watching the rise and fall of your chest. he sucks in a breath, hands reaching out to squeeze your breast over your shirt.

you stir, eyes blinking open to your friend in front of you. "yuji?" you ask, trying to wipe the haze of sleep from your eyes. when you move to sit up you realize the large palm resting on your chest and you immediately stiffen in alert. "yuu?" you ask again, hand going up to pull off his own. you can't see his face well from this angle and for a moment you think he must be sleep walking. "yuji... are you awake?" your soft voice stirs something deep in his body, an uncharacteristic growl suddenly emits from your best friends lips. it's then he moves to straddle you, pushing you back against your bed. you look up at him, the light emanating from your open window providing you some clarity. this was not definitely not yuji. "sukuna..." you said, barely above a whisper. you see him smile before you hear the low chuckle that comes from deep in his chest.

"i wasn't expecting you to be such a light sleeper," he tells you. his gruffly voice all but confirms that this isn't the sweet boy you've come to know. he's still smiling, his hand reaching up to trace down your neck before spanning across your collarbone. the feather light touch brings a shiver down your body, highlighting your already taut nipples. he doesn't even try to hide his roaming eyes that land on your chest. instead he begins to unbutton your shirt, starting from the top button. you don't dare move a muscle. due to yuji's physicality, you knew you didn't stand a chance against him. even if he wasn't the king of curses, yuji's muscles alone gave him the strength to pop your head like a balloon. with sukuna fronting, that fact became even more obvious than before. without yuji's softness, his body was a lethal weapon that caused your heart to thump heavy against your ribcage. "scared, little bunny?" he asks you, his hands still slowly making work of your top. the nickname makes you frown and his grin only grows. "little bunny..." he teases, leaning down into your ear. his breath is hot and all encompassing. yuji's lips graze your earlobe and sukuna says, "you get it? because your little heart is going thump, thump, thump," he emphasizes every syllable and your body recoils. his hands undo the final button and he doesn't bother to look when he pulls open your top. your nipples hit the frigid air but they're quickly encased by his hands. his tongue reaches out to lick your ear, the sound of his heavy breaths almost deafening. you're stiff under him while he savors the taste of your skin. something wet hits your nipples and you jump. "you like that?" he asks you, pulling off one of his hands with a sickening pop. he shows his open palm to you, a sickeningly long tongue lolling out. you cringe and he only laughs, reaching down to keep teasing your nipples with his hand-tongues. your stomach clenches, becoming queasy while he has his way with you. "aww c'mon little bunny. put on a show for the kid," your eyes shoot to his, almost like you're trying to see yuji behind them.

"he's there?" you ask, your voice shaking a little.

"where else would he be?" sukuna retorts, his filthy hand-tongues move to explore more of your skin. their spit glistening against your skin and you try desperately not to lose your resolve. you don't want yuji to see you scared.

"is he always there?" you ask him back, intrigued slightly by the thought. you had always just assumed yuji went unconscious when sukuna took over. clearly you had been wrong.

"always, little bunny," he breaths heavy in your ear again. his mouth moving to your neck. soft kisses line your skin. his lips gentle in a way you didn't think possible for the king of curses.

"why are you doing this?" it's a brave question, but while sukuna was feeling talkative you thought you'd give it a try. the all-too-familiar grumble in his chest comes back, finding humor in your bravery.

"teaching the kid a lesson," he says simply. going back to exploring you with his mouth, moving down to kiss between your breasts. his hands lower to your hips, gripping them and massaging the plump skin.

"a lesson in what?" you gulp, helpless underneath him.

"in taking what you want..." he pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes. "you think this was all my idea? i have much better things to do than think about fucking some silly little girl all day," he presses another gentle kiss on your breast before meeting your gaze again. "told him if he just fucked you he wouldn't be so pent up all the time," another kiss to your nipple this time. his tongue swirls around the bud and you don't know what takes over you when your hip bucks up into him. he notices, but he doesn't comment. "thought i'd do the kid a favor and fuck you good since he was too pussy himself," realization slams into you like a bus. yuji... likes you?

you snap out of it almost as quickly as you thought it. this was sukuna speaking. nothing he said was the truth. he was a curse, and not just any curse. the king of curses. deceit came as easily to him as breathing. wait... did he need to breathe?

"you're lying.." you tell him. he continues smooching your chest, one of his hands grabbing your tit roughly, giving him a better angle to suck it into his ready mouth. you have no choice but to watch as he bites and sucks. he finally removes himself once he feels satisfied.

"you got me. i'm lying," he laughs, but his face remains serious. "not about the yuji thing though. the kid definitely wants to fuck you," he muses. "but fucking you is doing me the favor. he's been giving me a serious case of blue balls with how little he gets. haven't had a good fuck since being trapped in this body." his hands suddenly rip down your pajama bottoms, the force causing your body to jolt.

"please," you begin to plead. realizing all too suddenly just how serious the situation was. he ignores you as he peels your thighs apart with little effort. "i'll call for gojo!" you threaten without thinking and he pauses, his dark expression growing even darker.

"do it," he sneers down at you, "what do you think that blue eyed freak will believe when he comes in here and sees yuji balls deep in your tight little pussy? that the big scary king of curses is wasting his time fucking a student? or that you and the kid are horny little brats who go at it in the dorms? answer. quickly," he barks and your mouth hangs open. the way those dirty words fall from his lips without even a stutter making you hesitate. maybe he was right. if gojo came in, he would relinquish his hold on yuji's body and you both would not only be traumatized, but probably expelled. you decided you had to be brave for the both of you. you wanted to cry, for yourself, but also for yuji. he must be so mortified watching this. you had to endure—for the both of you. you don't give sukuna an answer and he doesn't bother to press. he goes back to what he was doing; his thumb spreading apart your folds. "take a look at that kid," he grumbles. "you picked a good one. didn't know they even made pussies like this anymore," your stomach rolls but you don't show it. his thumb moves to push into your cunt, his long nail scraping painfully at your insides. you wince but sukuna doesn't acknowledge it. "so wet, little bunny. who's this for?" he teases. he pulls his thumb out, reaching it up to his lips and popping it into his mouth. he groans, eyes closed like he's savoring the taste. "taste that yuji?" 'know you've been wondering what she tastes like for a while now," you desperately want to know the other half of the conversation you can't hear. you know yuji must be tearing sukuna a new one for degrading you in this way. both his thumbs go to spread your folds open and he parts his lips slightly. soon enough, a wad of spit trails down before landing on your clit. "take notes yuji. you have to play with this little thing," he says, pointing to your little bundle of nerves with his dark nail. "most girls can't come without stimulation here," he lectures. he reaches down to toy with it and you can't fight the natural reaction that he pulls from you. your hips lift a little as he spreads his spit and teases your clit. "see yuji? they become putty in your hands," you grimace but your hips don't stop rolling. his freaky hand-tongue makes a reappearance and you begin to see stars. "that's it little girl," he mewls. you grit your teeth to hold back your whines as the long muscle works you better than any of your vibrators could. shame washes over you at the thought and you struggle to collect yourself. "you gonna come already?" he teases, your hips rolling into his disgusting hand, trying to get the perfect angle. the tongue flattens, licking a fat stripe up your cunt before circling your clit with just the tip. this time you don't have it in you to fight the moan that escapes your lips. the tongue works you almost to completion in mere minutes. you're huffing, face dusted red as you close your eyes. trying to hold a semblance of control. "she's going to cum yuji," he tells him, even though he can clearly see. you bite your lip, your stomach twitching as your orgasm lingers just below the surface. "you wanna cum, little girl?" he asks you, almost sweetly. despite the desire to say yes you shake your head. desperately gripping on to the little bit of dignity you probably already lost. "no? suit yourself," he says nonchalantly.

his hand pulls away, a string of spit and slick going with it. sukuna pulls yuji's hardened cock out of his pants and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the sheer size. his tip is red and drooling, the shaft longer than you thought possible. "please... don't do this," you plead.

"i have to. i'm only giving the kid what he wants," he tells you but you aren't sure you believe him. he says it so cooly, ignoring as you shake beneath him. "relax," he coos, "you're more than ready for it," you realize he's right as he slips right in. your cunt giving him little push-back. he groans so loudly you think someone had to have heard it. he pushes your thighs flat against the bed, the burn from the unnatural position almost distracting you from yuji's cock dragging against your walls. sukuna's eyes are glued to where you two connect and you swear a little bit of drool leaks past his lips. "you lookin' kid?" he asks yuji. "never seen anything so perfect in my life. fuck. this pussy was made for your cock," he's completely ignoring you. doing everything in his power to rile yuji up, you assume. frothy fluids quickly build at the base of his cock, the evidence of your arousal undeniable now. "'didn't know it was possible to get this wet this quickly," he says, more to himself. he's right though—in every aspect. you are freakishly wet, and yuji's cock felt suspiciously right buried deep inside you.

"are you almost done?" you wince after a particularly delicious roll. his hips begin to snap against your cunt meanly, yuji's cock bulging beneath your stomach with each thrust. when sukuna doesn't dignify you with a response, you assume the sudden roughness must be your answer. his eyes watch each bounce of your tits as he fucked into you with purpose.

"fuck, fuck, fuck" he groans, each snap loosening his own self control. "such a greedy little cunt," he grunts. "yuji? you've been awfully silent in there..." he says, still snapping into you with such force you feel like he's in your throat. "can't blame you kid. fuuuuuck," he pulls your legs up and over you, folding you in half without even pulling out. the change in position has you seeing stars. you don't stand a chance with yuji's cock reaching your cervix. his weight bearing down on you was a welcomed feeling. with each drag of his cock you lost yourself more and more into the feeling. your poor little pussy kept twitching from the beating she was taking and sukuna noticed each one. "you wanna come now? you gotta say it," he says to you. if he wasn't reaching places you didn't know existed you would be disgusted with his incessant need to make you admit just how badly you needed the release he was offering you. instead you meekly nodded, knowing you only had a few more strokes before you were done for. when he sees you nod, he pulls out abruptly, tossing you onto your stomach. he lifts your hips off the bed and you brace yourself for the new position. instead of sinking back in like you expected, he lands a punishing smack to your right cheek. you can't fight the cry that leaves your lips. "use your words, little bunny. or i'll edge you until you have no choice but to beg the king of curses," he lands another smack, angling to smack against your waiting pussy.

"ow!" you gasp. "please. please make me cum," the words leave your lips and so does all your dignity. but he's not done.

"who are you begging?" he asks you, and you furrow your brow in confusion.

"wha-?" you begin but he spanks you again, more harshly this time. definitely leaving a bruise.

"you know what i mean. are you begging me to fuck you, or the kid?" you aren't sure how to respond. you're scared if you say yuji, he'll switch back and yuji will be so mortified you won't ever get the release you've been needing for the past half hour. but if you say sukuna, you're not sure you want to deal with the consequences of that either. "times ticking," he grunts, growing impatient.

"i-i don't know," you admit and shockingly, he rubs your cheek soothingly.

"i-i'm gonna," you cry out, your back arching unnaturally as your orgasm hit you like waves against the shore. powerful, punishing, and never-ending. two strong hands gripped your hips impossibly hard, a foreign high-pitched cry filled the air followed by your cunt filling with cum. you could feel his cock bob with each heavy spurt of sperm he unloaded into you. you gasped at the overwhelming feeling of his hot load swimming inside of you.

"i get to chose then," he warns, but it sounds strangely promising. a few seconds pass. sukuna goes strangely silent before he suddenly buries into you from behind. you have to bite down on your hand to stop the noises that action pulled from you. he begins pumping into you with purpose. each rock of his hips causing your stiff nipples to drag across the sheets. his balls slapping rhythmically against your clit. there was something different about these strokes, though. they were rushed and unrehearsed, completely different than the rough pounding you were taking earlier. it almost felt.. romantic? it was unsettlingly raw but you didn't have time to question. you were far too busy focusing on your release.

as soon as he pulled out. yuji looked down at what he had done. his body shaking as he watched his jizz ooze out of your twitching hole. mortified, he collapsed in on himself. "yuu, you're back," you say, the sweet voice you've reserved only for him making its reappearance. "i'm so sorry yuji," you turn around to hold him, apologizing so sincerely it almost makes him sick. he doesn't say anything , letting you rub his back and coo at him. promising you know that he's not at fault. that that evil, wicked sukuna defiled you and that he was just as much as a victim as you were.

he could never tell you the truth though. that sukuna hadn't lied once and that it was him who wanted to be the one to finish you off. him who asked sukuna to switch the both of them. that he wanted, no needed to be the one to finish inside of you. claiming you with his powerful release.

[fluentmoviequoter]

My Cape

Pairing: Superman x fem!reader (r doesn't learn he's Clark... yet)

Summary: When your corner of Metropolis is attacked by an alien, you put yourself in danger to help your neighbors. Superman finds you holding his cape and develops an interest in you.

Warnings/Word Count: NO SPOILERS for Superman (2025), fluff, r is injured (depiction of bleeding and pain), meet cute?, canon-typical danger. 2.3k+ words

A/N: This isn't necessarily any specific Superman adaptation, but I did watch the new movie today so some of the mannerisms/characteristics may lean a bit more toward that (and his soft look fit this). Pictures from Pinterest. I hope you enjoy!

Part 2 -> Your Cape

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

“That’s… terrifying,” your roommate - lovingly nicknamed Inny because she loves to get in everyone’s business and rarely bothers to deny it - murmurs, reaching for the remote.

“Wait,” you say, blocking her hand with your arm as you squint, trying to make sense of what you see on the television screen. “Is that Metropolis?”

“A big, creepy, ugly space alien looking for people to serve him isn’t going to move toward Baker Line.”

Rolling your eyes at Inny’s scoff, you lower your arm and turn toward the window when she changes the channel to a Saturday rerun of a sitcom episode you’ve seen countless times since she moved in and declared she wanted television privileges in exchange for paying two-thirds of the rent. It was an easy deal, a no-brainer, but now you’re wishing you knew where the creature attacking Metropolis was heading.

Unfortunately, you get your answer quickly. The building shakes, the television falling from the entertainment center as a studio laugh track plays through the speakers.

“I should’ve moved to Coast City,” Inny whimpers as she clings to the couch cushion beneath her.

“Get up,” you demand, moving carefully toward the door.

“What? Are you crazy!? There’s a- a space giant thing out there!” she sputters, waving as she searches for the right word.

“And the building is going to cave in,” you reply quickly. “Does that sound like a better fate?”

She debates the pros and cons for a second too long, so you leave her behind. By the time you reach the stairwell, Inny is at your side, clutching your arm to her chest tight enough that you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow.

“You’d think we’d have evacuation plans for this specific scenario by now,” you mutter as you pass a fire exit. “Superman should be in the PSA videos.”

“You just want to look at him in 4K UHD,” Inny accuses.

Her voice isn’t as shaky as before, which you think is a good thing. When you reach the landing on the second floor, a loud crack makes you stop. Your back hits the wall mere seconds before a large chunk of concrete falls down the center of the square-shaped stairwell, crashing to the floor of the lobby with an ear-shattering thud.

“Go!” you exclaim, pushing Inny farther down the stairs and ignoring the ringing in your ears.

“Help me!” one of your neighbors calls, attempting to free a double-stroller from the rubble.

“Superman!” the alien above you bellows, causing the ground to shake when he takes a step. “Come out and face me like a man, since that’s what you claim to be.”

You place your hand on a larger chunk of concrete and jump over it, bending to hook your hands under the front wheels of the stroller.

“It’s okay,” you soothe the children crying under the black cover. “Hold on, this might be a little bumpy, okay?”

Inny takes the mother’s place, shoving the handlebars down as you lift the base of the stroller. The debris that was holding it in place falls to the cracked floor, and you gesture your head up. Inny nods as she adjusts her grip. Together, you raise the stroller to chest height and take awkward side steps to reach level ground.

“Thank you!” the mother sighs, her chest heaving as she takes your hand.

Pain shoots through your wrist, but your adrenaline nullifies its impact in your mind. Dust falls from the ceiling, so you urge Inny and the neighbor you’d never seen before today toward the exit. You follow them outside, sliding to a stop on the sidewalk when you realize that it’s dark in the middle of the day. Looking up, your eyes widen at the sheer size of the creature blocking out the sun. Directly before you, its ankle bears a mark in a language unlike any you've ever seen. It takes swings at Superman that look lazy but are likely taxing it. Or at least that's what you hope is happening.

“My car is parked around the corner,” Inny remembers. “If the roads are clear, we can get away from here for a while.”

“That would be smart," someone agrees.

You turn on your heel, feel your heartbeat everywhere when you see Superman wiping the shoulders of his suit.

“Thank you, Superman,” your neighbor says.

He nods, his eyes wandering to you as he sends a comforting smile toward your small group.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Oh, well…” He glances up at the alien searching the sky and shrugs. “Average Saturday, I guess.”

You smile at that, and he waves before he bends his knees slightly to launch off the sidewalk. Following his flight path, you don’t realize that Inny and your neighbor are waiting for you.

Inny clears her throat to get your attention and reminds you, “Car? Leaving? Let’s go.”

“Right,” you say, blinking to clear your mind of Superman’s smile.

Running around a corner, you slow down when you see a bus lying on its side in the middle of the road.

“Come on!” Inny yells over her shoulder.

“Go without me!” you call. “Get those kids somewhere safe!”

“What about you?” she asks, stopping.

“I’ll be right behind you, I promise.”

Inny hesitates, then looks at the stroller and the scared children inside. “Keep that promise or… or I’ll do something really messed up.”

Smiling, you nod, then rush toward the bus. You place your hands on a metal bar and pull yourself up to the wheel well to look in the windows.

“Hi! Hey, we’re in here!” someone shouts inside.

“Is anyone hurt?” you ask, raising your voice as you peer in.

“Not too bad.”

You take a deep breath, then climb onto what is now the top of the bus, though it’s actually the side. “Does the door open?” you inquire. Someone answers that it doesn’t, just as you expected. After instructing the passengers to move back as far as they can, you shift to sit, then bring your heels down against the front window. It caves in slightly, but doesn’t break. Repeating the action, you succeed in causing a few cracks, but you still can’t get in.

“Oh, this is going to hurt,” you mumble to yourself as you turn and sit on your knees. With one hand spread on the side of the bus, you lift your opposite arm, keeping it bent. When your force is concentrated to the point of your elbow, the window shatters, and you can see and hear the people inside much more easily. Your elbow throbs as you lean forward, but it’s the least of your concerns. The alien is moving sideways, its shadow growing longer in your direction.

“Alright, can you guys climb on the seats and help each other up?” you suggest.

The people inside are eager enough to get to safety that they’re strong enough to do anything you ask. As you help pull the first woman up, you see Superman spin as he’s thrown into the side of a nearby building. He can take a hit, you know, but something pangs in your chest. Worry or guilt, or some odd combination of the two.

“How many more?” you ask, attempting to keep your voice light.

“Three,” a man beneath you answers.

The alien is closing in, and the people who are getting off the bus are running, so you’re still alone as you struggle to pull them up through the window.

“You should go,” the last woman says. “I don’t think I can lift myself through.”

“I’m here to help,” you promise her, “I’m not going anywhere unless you go with me.”

Above you, Superman is attempting to keep the alien, Pictaro or something; he made the whole introduction speech, but Kal didn’t care enough to listen, away from you and your heroic efforts. Although if he’s honest with himself, he wants to yell at you for staying in danger for so long.

“There we go,” you grunt, leaning back as you use your entire body to help lift the woman.

“Thank you, thank you,” she cries, tears running down her cheeks as she slides toward the edge of the bus. “Get somewhere safe.”

You nod numbly before you swing your legs over the side and look at the road beneath you. Superman sends up a plume of debris when he crashes into the ground. The alien laughs at the sight of Superman tugging his cape off his face, causing another seismic event with his chuckle. If you’d been watching, you’d have seen that the cape is the only reason Superman is now on the ground.

The bus shakes, and only then do you smell the gas. Quickly, you jump to the sidewalk and get some distance. Despite failing the landing, you keep your eyes on Superman. He rips his cape off his suit before flying up toward the alien’s head with newfound fervor and energy. His fists collide with the underside of its jaw, knocking it off balance before he immediately attacks its chest.

Something moves in the crater caused by Superman’s fall, leading you to move toward it carefully. Peeking inside, you only see a broken waterline and his cape. Your elbow begins stinging again as sirens echo in the distance. After you tap it with your fingers, you hiss in pain and notice your red-stained skin.

“Sorry, Superman,” you whisper as you pull his cape into your hand and press it against your bleeding wound.

Your brows furrow as you kneel. There’s a small device in the crater, a blinking pad of some sort bearing the same mark as the alien’s ankle. It looks almost like… a remote.

“Superman!” you scream, waving your uninjured arm to get his attention.

He doesn’t notice you immediately, focused on another round with the alien. When you yell again, he becomes a blue blur before seeming to materialize before you.

“Wh- ma’am,” he greets, backpedaling on what he was going to say.

You don’t speak but point at the black box beside you. Superman steps into the divot in the sidewalk and lifts the device, turning it over in his hand.

“Thank you,” he says, his blue eyes dropping to your arm before he flies to the roof of your damaged apartment building. “Hey, Pictionary!” he taunts.

With a single press of a button, the alien collapses. Its head falls towards its chest as it goes silent. Clark circles it slowly, moving down its height before he lands beside it. First responders arrive, wait for his signal, then move closer to the surrounding buildings. You watch a news van slide to a stop before a cameraman steps out backward, focused on a newscaster who is already speaking.

“Is that my cape?”

Moving your chin up quickly, you don’t expect Superman to be right beside you. Yet, you don’t move back.

“Sorry,” you say, unable to come up with anything else.

“Where are you hurt?” he asks.

“It- it’s just a scratch,” you insist, still cradling your arm.

Superman tilts his head toward his shoulder, his complete attention on you even as police officers and reporters call out to him.

“Don’t move,” he instructs.

He disappears, using his superspeed to move before you can reply. You don’t even have time to think about how he didn’t ask, just told you what to do, before he returns. He drapes another cape over your shoulders, effectively blocking your face from the cameras behind you.

“Th- thank you,” you stutter softly. “For saving Metropolis and the cape.” You look at him for a moment, then can’t take the silence and add, “It’s a really nice cape. I see why you have two.”

“I have a lot more than two,” he says, his smile dropping as he pretends to be serious in his agreement. “I like them, too.”

“Which is good, considering…”

“Do you have somewhere safe to stay tonight?” he interrupts.

“I do,” you answer. Then you remember you left your phone upstairs in your bedroom. Squinting in the sunlight, you look up at your floor and know you won’t be able to get to it. “I just don’t actually know where I’m supposed to meet my roommate. We don’t have an alien fistfight plan.”

“You should make one of those,” Superman muses.

“That’s what I said!”

Superman chuckles, then steps closer to you, the S on his chest inches from your own chest. Of course, when you finally get to meet Superman, you’re covered in dust and sweat and blood. Inny won’t let you live this down.

“Where can I take you?” he asks.

“Oh, no, you’ve done more than enough,” you argue. “I’ll probably just go to our favorite coffee shop and wait.”

“Let me guess, straight black, none of the fuss.”

“Maybe I like the fruity teas they make with a certain superhero's colors,” you counter.

“Do you?” he challenges.

“Those colors aren’t natural.”

Superman laughs, bending backward as his hand presses to his stomach. His joy is contagious, you learn as you smile.

“Which coffee shop?” he asks.

Assuming he’s asking about the drink, you answer. You certainly don’t expect him to close the space between you and wrap his arm around your waist.

“Feel okay?” he whispers, looking down at you.

“Hmm?” you hum, swallowing thickly as you lift your eyes.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think you could.”

Something in his eyes shifts before you’re lifted off the ground. You cling to him instinctually, but it doesn’t faze him. When he lowers to the roof of the coffee shop, you’re hesitant to let go of him.

“No,” he murmurs when you reach for his cape over your shoulders. “You hold on to that.”

“I can’t take two of your capes,” you insist. “I will be taking the one I covered with biohazard material, though, at least long enough to dry clean it.”

“That wouldn’t get you any weird looks,” he scoffs.

You purse your lips and rub the fabric between your fingers. “How do you clean it?”

Superman shrugs, then takes your hand. “If you need anything,” he begins. “Call out to me again. Okay?”

Breathless, you agree, “Okay.”

Superman leaves before you can thank him again. After you check that your arm isn’t injured too severely, you notice that the cape on your shoulders has a tag on it. A tag that doesn’t contain washing instructions, but a handwritten note complete with a phone number.

[bizarrelovetriangel]

the sea god and his beloved bride.

sea god rafayel in heat / ebb day

mdni. 18+ only.

Rafayel is burning up.

Despite being in the frigid water of his pool in the center of the Sea God's Temple, he feels hot under your touch. More scales have appeared on the frame of his flushed face, shining under the moonlight beaming through the windows.

"Don't come any closer."

Rafayel's low, deep voice shakes as he forces himself to move away from you, when all he wanted was to pull you close and hold you tightly; to feel the warmth of your body against his.

"It's... dangerous for you to be this close..."

"Rafayel..." Ignoring his warning, you pushed yourself close to him. "I want to help you. Please let me make you feel better."

He closes his eyes and sighs as your soft fingers trails down his neck.

The way you make him feel just from light touches... maybe you were the dangerous one.

You have no idea what power you have over him.

"Okay."

You slowly slide down the tips of your fingers from his neck to his collar bones, then to his chest, lingering on the scales that are scattered on his skin just like shimmering stars on the night sky.

As he leans closer towards you, a soft moan falls from his parted lips while his face tints to a deeper shade of red.

Your eyes widened slightly, pausing to replay the sound in your head.

You wanted to hear it again.

And again.

And again.

"...need more...." He whispers, nuzzling his face against your hands as they darted up to caress his cheeks. "You...feel so good..."

His words lit your body on fire.

Blood rushes to your face and to your core, causing you to rub your thighs together as you scooted closer towards his pool.

You had an idea what was happening to him.

You've heard about it long ago, that Lemurians go through something like being in heat, just once every year, when the tide is low, and it flows in opposite direction.

As an effect of hormonal changes, Lemurians become extremely sensitive and their sexual desires intensify. Their body temperature drastically increases, only settling until the day is over and the tide returns to its normal flow.

It's also when the Lemurians are at their weakest.

That's why Rafayel hasn't left his pool, or chamber, as he likes to call it. All day, he'd been in the temple, hiding himself even from you. He said it's dangerous for you to be close to him, but you know he won't hurt you in anyway.

You are the Sea God'd bride.

You want to help him.

You want to offer yourself to him.

"Rafayel." You brushed some strands of his hair away from his face. "I want to feel you — more of you."

His eyes snaps wide open, looking at you with shock. "Do you know what you're saying?! I could hurt you if I lose control — "

You leaned forward to kiss his forehead, and he immediatelt softens up. "You won't hurt me. I trust you, Rafayel. Will you let me make you feel good?"

A noise that was a mixture of a moan and a whine slips out of his mouth, and it strengthens your need to run your hands all over him.

"Please... make me feel good, my beloved bride."

You didn't hesitate to jump in the pool with him.

You kept your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself afloat, though there was no need for it as Rafayel's arms wrapped around your waist to pull your body against his.

The water is cold, and his body is hot. Although your body is soaked, all of your senses are focused on him.

You only feel him.

As you placed your lips on his, Rafayel immediately deepens the kiss, with his hands gently caressing your body.

You can feel his desperation, but also his self-control. His touches are light, as if to make sure he doesn't accidentally hurt you.

But you wanted him to let loose and stop restraining himself — you want him to give in to his body's urges, just like how you're giving in to your own desires.

You pressed yourself harder against him and let your right hand go further down below his hips.

The scales of his tail shifted instantly, almost like they're softening up at your touch.

Rafayel brushes himself against your legs, and then you feel something hard pressing on your right thigh.

It wasn't visible before, but after his scales shifted, you now feel his cock brushing against your thighs as Rafayel slowly rocks his hips against your figure, chasing after your warmth.

He lets out a sigh of pleasure as you grinded yourself against him, your clothed core briefly touching the tip of his cock.

He continues to rut into you, causing the water to dance all around your entangled figures. His soft cries echo throughout the empty, quiet temple, and the scales on his face glistens under the moonlight.

Your right hand slides farther down his hips, and Rafayel closes his eyes and grunts as your fingers find his cock, feeling his entire length twitching with the urge to be buried in you.

Your insides clenched with arousal. Your mouth waters before you softly sank your teeth on his neck, then you sucked on his skin to leave your mark on the Sea God.

Rafayel finds it impossible to stop himself from thrusting into your hand, hips eratically stuttering on its own as he craves for friction.

You feel so good, and he needed more.

He needed to feel you.

All of you.

"Wait..."

It takes all his strength to tear himself away from you, even if it's just for a brief moment.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He smiles and kisses your lips to interrupt your concern.

Rafayel pulled your body across his chest and held you bridal-style before leaving the pool. His tail turns into human legs, and he brings you over by the window, setting you down on the purple chaise lounge chair that you're often resting on when chatting with him.

"I want to take you like this. Here." He wants you to feel comfortable and for the both of you to be able to move without any restraint.

As he hovers on top of you, you take a moment to appreciate his beauty.

His long hair sways at the side of his face as the cold sea breeze moves through the windows, his eyes glowing brightly, pupils dilated as he gazes down at you, and the markings on his face shimmering to match his glowering expression.

Now more than ever, you find yourself wondering how lucky you are to be the Sea God's bride. To be the one that gets to see him like this, the one to feel him like this... are you truly worthy?

But with the way he's looking at you right now, he makes you feel as if you are special.

You feel as if this is where you belong.

With him.

"Rafayel..."

You called out his name, yet you're lost for the right words that could properly express your feelings.

And so, you pulled him down and kissed him again, letting your actions give the message.

You feel him smile against your lips. His legs settles between yours, and his hips presses down against your thighs, his hardened cock brushing against your cunt.

A soft groan from your mouth gets muffled by Rafayel's deep, wet kisses while he continues to rub his cock against you. You spread your legs wider for him, and his right hand dives to your underwear to feel your folds, right before inserting two fingers inside you.

You arched your back as he moves his hand in and out of you.

"W—wait, I'm supposed to be the one that's m—making you feel good..."

Rafayel lets out a low chuckle, eyes refusing to blink and look away from your face even for a second. You look so pretty, falling apart underneath him, just from his fingers.

"You've no idea how you're making me feel right now, just seeing you like this... his lips makes contact with your neck before his teeth nips your skin. "Forgive me if I get a little rough..." he moves lower to your chest to leave a mark identical to the one above. "The sweet sounds you're making ...it's driving me crazy..."

Then, you feel him going inside you.

Slowly.

Carefully.

The tip of his cock traces your folds before easing into your core, inch by inch, throbbing impatiently to get to the deepest part of you.

Rafayel gasps loudly as you squeeze him tight.

You could've made him come then and there, had it not for him using up his entire strength to stay still.

But you're making it so difficult.

You're so warm and so tight.

You're taking him in so well. He wanted to move, to take you hard and fast.

But he doesn't.

Not yet.

He wants to take his time.

You've graciously offered him yourself, and he wants to savor this gift for as long as he could.

And so, he starts off slowly.

Rafayel slides in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, drilling into his memory how you feel, and how you look when his cock his buried deep inside you.

While his hands wander throughout your body, he busies his mouth with your breasts, making sure to appreciate every inch of you.

He wants you to know how precious you are to him, despite having only shared a little bit of time together in this lifetime.

Though as much as he wanted to remember your lives together from his past, particularly to the time when you've forged your covenant, what matters is here and now.

Rafayel peppers soft kisses all over your face before moving a little faster and harder, forcing sharp groans out of his mouth and yours.

You lightly grazed your fingernails down on his back as you pulled him even closer to you, wanting to feel his heartbeat against your own.

You then tugged on his hair on the back of his head, and Rafayel's breath becomes ragged.

His eyes roll back with pleasure right before he pulls out of you and suddenly your hips and thighs have been painted white. Rafayel's cock twitches as ropes of cum spills onto your skin, loud moans ringing against your ears and making you clench yet again.

As Rafayel takes a moment to catch his breath, you pulled on his arm and flipped him over so that he's now lying down on the lounge chair.

You settled on his lap and grinded your pussy against his sensitive cock, still hard and throbbing from his orgasm.

You ran a hand across his chest to feel his skin, still burning up like a stubborn fever.

"I promised to make you feel better, didn't I?" Rafayel breathes out slowly, intertwining your fingers together. "Let me take care of you, Rafayel."

Unlike him that started off slowly, you began at a quickened pace at the very moment his cock is swallowed by your hole.

He's unable to hold back his moans as he watches you bounce on his thighs, drops of sweat clinging on your forehead while your parted lips echoes the noises that he'd been making.

The Sea God temple is filled with the lewd noises emitted by your bodies, barely silenced by the waves of the sea right outside.

His chest heaves up and down, breath hitching as his body drowns with ecstasy. His hips moved on its own and started to thrust upwards at the same time your weight presses down onto him.

It's too much, but still, not enough.

Rafayel sat up and rested his hands on your ass, encouraging you to take him harder and faster.

The chair screeched at your movement, though neither of you could care to notice as you chased your high together.

Your insides tightens up and your hips stutter. You warned him that you'll be reaching your climax soon, but Rafayel couldn't find it in him to slow down. And so, he ends up covered with your own juices as you squirted all over his cock.

Still, he doesn't stop.

His heart is racing even faster, and his mind feels as if it had gone blank.

No thoughts.

Just you.

After coming for the second time, he doesn't give himself time to recover before picking you up and pinning you against the cold wall of the temple. With his cock still leaking, Rafayel pounds into you again and again and again.

He only paused for a second to let you catch your breath, seeing you gasping for air. His eyes flickers outside of the window, directing his gaze to the waves of the sea.

"The tide is still low, my beloved."

It wasn't an innocent observation, but a fair warning.

For as long as the moon is out and the tide is flowing like this, his body won't calm down. It'll claim what it wants, for as long as he wants, however he wants.

"I'm all yours, Rafayel."

[damselneedssaving]

「 KISS ME THROUGH THE PHONE 」

OLDER!CLINGY!DAMIAN WAYNE X F!READER

★ SYNOPSIS: Unable to be apart from you for long, Damian chooses to call you while on patrol—and when that isn't enough to satiate his aching heart, he swings by your window to wish you a good night in person, and maybe a bit more.

★ TAGS: damian is 18+, suggestive content, longing/yearning, fluff, it physically hurts damian to be without you

★ A/N: inspired by 'kiss me thru the phone' by soulja boy, more longing/yearning Dami because no one can convince me that man is not a complete romantic who feels like his chest is being ripped out whenever his beloved isn't next to him 🥰

line divider by @cafekitsune

"I miss you," Damian's voice calls from the other side of the phone, tone so sincere, so loving, that you can feel it in the warmth of the moonlight spilling into your room.

Your lips curve up, eyes melting as you stare out your window like he's right there, stood at your fire escape just waiting to be let in. "You've said that five times already, Dami."

"And I'll say it five more: I miss you, Habibti."

The smile on your face grows without your permission, and your finger practically has a mind of its own when it moves to the sill of your window, tracing little hearts on the surface like some sort of lovesick schoolgirl.

He's always known how to reduce you to one.

"Isn't your dad with you? I thought he doesn't allow calls to partners on patrol."

You can practically hear the eye roll in his voice. "Tt. That man wouldn't know true love if it hit him over the head with a frying pan."

His words make you perk up, slumped over form suddenly upright with life and light and all the stars twinkling in the sky of the night as you exclaim, excitement seeping into your tone, "You watched Tangled!"

"Of course," he replies, firm but soft, like it's obvious, but without all the derision that usually comes with that. "You asked it of me."

His words are simple, but they're kind, sweet, like the candy floss he bought you on your date the other day—and just like how it's flaky strings melted on your tongue, you, too, melt on the spot.

"Dami..."

It's all you can say, his name all you've ever known, and all that you wish to know, as you stand there, under the rays of the moonlight, eyes closed and mind swarmed with the ghost of his touch.

"I miss you, Habibti."

You miss him too.

But your eyes open, crinkling further at the corners as your gaze drifts down and you whine out with all the fluster of a girl embarrassed by her man, "Dami..."

"Hm?" a smile speaks through his tone.

You kick the air. "Stop that..."

"Stop what?"

"Saying that..."

His chuckle sounds from the other side of the screen, hot enough to warm your insides.

"Saying what? That I miss you?" he asks, though you know that he knows the answer to his question, going on to then say, "Would you prefer I tell you how cold the night is without you by my side? Or how it feels like there's a hole in my chest as I jump under the starry sky?"

"Dami..."

"It's true."

"No"—you shake your head, turning away from your window with one arm crossed over your chest and a smile upturned on your lips—"I mean—I miss you too..."

The line goes quiet. Too quiet.

"Dami?"

No response.

"Damian?"

Still, nothing.

Your teeth graze your lip, biting down on it by the smallest hair as you feel your insides turn into ice, fingers readjusting themselves around your phone.

The silence is loud—

—until it isn't.

Like glass, it's shattered through by the sound of tapping, and when you turn, heart in your throat, you all but melt at the sight that greets you.

There, with one hand holding his phone up to his ear, and the other tapping its fingers against your window, is the love of your life.

Relief washes over you like a wave, drenching your form until your shoulders fall from its weight and you're left floating step-by-step towards your suited-up boyfriend.

Under the whites of his mask, his eyes hide, unreadable, but they don't need to be, you know by the fall of his shoulders and the slight smile on his face that he's just as eager to see you as you are to see him.

Splaying your hand over where his rests on the glass, you give yourself a moment to take him in, to calm the swell of your heart as you feel the way he stares at you like you're the only one in the world.

A beat passes with the two of you just staring at each other through the glass.

For a moment. All is right. All is warm. All is sound.

And then your heart cries out, and you find yourself lifting your window not a moment after.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, breathless, disbelieving.

"You said you missed me."

Then he adds, without even opening his mouth:

'So here I am.'

Your eyes crinkle for the umpteenth time, and he wastes no longer to perch himself on your windowsill and reach for your hands with his own gloved ones.

"Damian, you have to patrol."

He rolls his eyes, smile still on his lips. "The streets are safe enough in the hands of Batman alone." Then, his eyes crinkle. "I'd rather be here with you."

Warmth swells in your heart, and you almost can't help the way you lunge forward, wrenching your hands from his grip to instead, throw your arms around his neck and bury yourself in his chest, smile a little too wide against his suit.

The position is a little awkward, but it still feels right, natural, when he winds his arms around your back, and the warmth of him bleeds into your form.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, Habibti."

Raising your head from his chest, you usher him in, and it's only then that his eyes wander, head tilting down a little in that familiar way it does when he's taking you in.

And as you take a step towards your bed, as you move to lead him further into your room, your body is abruptly halted, wrist in his grasp, before you're yanked with a firm tug straight back into his chest.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

"Habibti," he whispers, smug, like the word is a secret shared between just the two of you, his head dipping until his nose brushes your own. "Do you always wear such attire to bed?"

Your eyes widen, breath hitching in your throat as his gloved fingers start to play with the hem of your shirt.

"Perhaps you knew I wouldn't be able to resist visiting, and wore such clothing on purpose?"

His teasing runs hot and heavy on your ears, and he pulls you closer by the waist before you can even think of turning your gaze away.

"In that case, you wouldn't mind if I were to indulge, would you?"

[cherienymphe]

Kingdom Come

Erik Killmonger x Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON (bordering Non-Con), mentions of toxic relationship, stalking, implied kidnapping

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies |

summary: You left Erik once, and he goes above and beyond to ensure that doesn't happen again.

𓇼

⠀

The sound of the ocean waves—something that took a lot of getting used to at first—were now the driving force behind your calm moods these days. Another nightmare had forced you to wake up drenched in sweat, and the only reason you’d been able to slow your breathing was because of the familiar whoosh of ocean water outside of your window.

You didn’t grow up by the water—wasn’t raised anywhere near it—and that sound quickly reminded you that you were far away from home, far away from anywhere familiar, and it filled you with relief. You now spent your days somewhere you would’ve once never considered living, and that was good because it meant no one from your former life would consider it a place for you to live either.

…and they wouldn’t come looking.

You watched the tea kettle heat up with your back pressed to the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Your satin robe stuck to your skin from the thin layer of sweat that still clung to it. Your heart had long stopped racing, but despite that, goosebumps still littered your arms, and you rubbed your hands up and down them. Despite how safe your mind assured you that you were, your body just refused to agree.

The low lighting in the kitchen was the only warm glow that filled the modest house, and you rubbed your head as you turned to get a mug. When you briefly closed your eyes, dark ones appeared in your mind, and you wondered when—after two years—you’d finally stop conjuring him up.

The face belonging to Erik Stevens was one you hadn’t seen in years, but that name was one you never not thought about. Not only had he been a part of your life for too long to just forget him, but the lasting impact he left made him impossible to ignore. You were literally hiding out in a foreign country under a different name surrounded by people you didn’t know because of that man.

There were days where you cursed yourself for ever getting involved with him—recalling your initial thoughts of him and how he looked like trouble—but Erik had a charm that was hard to resist. With a pretty face framed by locs and gold that winked at you whenever he smiled, he wasn’t the kind of man you’d ever be brave enough to bring home, and you had long reluctantly admitted the part that played in his appeal.

He was kind of dangerous…and you’d liked that.

Until it wasn’t random men on the street he was threatening…but you.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from your thoughts, and you jumped at the sound. You ignored how your hands shook as you poured yourself a cup of tea, exhaling an uneven breath with thoughts of your ex boyfriend on the brain. You never thought that sleeping with the guy who was just way out of your league would change the trajectory of your life. You thought it’d make for a good story to tell to your friends and maybe even a niece or two one day.

You didn’t think that he’d keep coming back, knocking on your apartment door throughout all hours of the night, that plump bottom lip jutted out as you attempted to put your foot down—something something boundaries and respect and all that jazz. The brown-skinned man would slowly blink at you, silently telling you that he wasn’t hearing a word you were saying. The corner of his lips would quirk up into that haughty smirk—something only worn by a man who knew he was going to get what he wanted—and he’d push himself off of the wall, straightening to his full height.

“So you want me to leave?”

The question never sounded sincere, because it wasn’t, and Erik would look down his nose at you while you shuffled your feet, one hand still on the door as you fought with yourself over whether or not to close it in his face. It was useless though because you never not let him in.

You never not took a step back and watched him stride through your door like he owned the place and you with it. You never not watched him peel his jacket off, your own arms crossed over your chest as you committed to being angry for far longer than you actually were. It made you feel like less of a weak willed woman. That too was useless though because its not like you ever stopped him when he turned to you and pulled you closer.

It did no good pretending to be mad when the night always ended the same way.

Erik with his arms around your waist and you with your legs around his.

He was always gone in the morning, until the day he wasn’t, and you couldn’t find it in you to be upset about him sticking around. You actually kind of liked it, and that had scared you. He wasn’t supposed to be there in the mornings, and you weren’t supposed to be asking him if he wanted anything as you stood by the stove. Erik Stevens was not boyfriend material, and yet…

That’s what he became.

Even now, years later, you still weren’t quite sure how that even happened. You didn’t know how you ended up sharing an apartment and picking things up at the store for him and sinking into the warm scented bath water he’d draw for you. You didn’t know how you ended up obeying whenever he’d look at you with those dark eyes before softly demanding a kiss. You didn’t know how you’d started letting him circle his hand around your neck while he was fucking you, pulling words and promises out of you that you’d never say in any other circumstance.

It was something you still couldn’t make sense of, and you desperately needed to if you ever wanted to prevent it from happening again.

“Erik Stevens isn’t your average man off the street…”

That was what they told you when they sat you down in some room that was too bright only hours after showing up at your doorstep. All of it had been too much information to fully retain, but you’d processed the important parts. Erik was military—a SEAL to be more exact—and not just a SEAL but also the kind of man who occasionally dropped off the face of the earth to take out important people. It was a nice way of calling him an assassin, and you remembered how sick you’d felt sitting in that chair, recalling the feel of running your fingers over every raised abrasion along his skin whenever he had his hands on you.

“Is this some frat thing I just haven’t heard of?” you’d jokingly wondered one day.

Erik had simply turned to look at you, a hint of a smile on his lips and a hidden joke in his gaze.

“Nah,” he’d drawled. “They just represent something important to me. Milestones I guess you could say.”

Your determination to be open minded had you relaxing in the arms of a killer—a proud one who wore the name KIllmonger with no shame.

Even still, you hadn’t understood what any of that had to do with you. At that point, you and Erik had been broken up for months, something that hadn’t been easy for you to do. Not just because some part of you still wanted him at the end, but also because a huge part of you was terrified of him. You hadn’t realized that his anger and possessiveness were low on the list of reasons why you should be afraid of him.

“This man is dangerous…and the way you parted ways was…less than amicable to say the least…”

You still hadn’t put the pieces together.

“...and the U.S Government is unable to locate him.”

Winding up in something akin to witness protection because the U.S Government had lost one of their own best ‘assets’ had not been something you ever saw for yourself. To this day, you wondered why the one questionable guy you took a chance on turned out to be far more than just the average jealous asshole.

As you sipped your tea, you thought about the last time you were with him, the way your voice trembled as you stood up to him, telling him it was over. You rubbed your arm, recalling the tight grip he had on it, his voice cold and clipped as he asked you if you realized what you were saying.

“You wanna leave me?” he’d asked, head dipped and brows raised like he wanted to make sure you knew that was what you wanted to do.

You could see then that he’d wanted to fight you on it—probably wanted to do a whole lot more than that—but no one had been more shocked than you when he simply let you go with a soft “a’ight” before gesturing to the door. Everything you wanted to take had been removed while he was out, and you’d been surprised at how sad you weren’t to glance around at the apartment now empty of your stuff.

That was the last time you’d been face to face with Erik Stevens.

Until now.

When the cup that was once in your hands shattered against the floor, you paid no mind to the slight sting of hot tea and ceramic shards hitting your bare feet. Your attempt to turn and leave the kitchen had been thwarted, a tall and broad figure standing just before you in the entrance. The sight of the shadowy figure made your heart drop and your blood run cold. The only light from the kitchen wasn’t enough to reveal him completely, but you’d always been able to recognize him in the dark.

He enjoyed scaring you.

For the first time in your life, your mind went blank, finally understanding that phrase as your lips parted. No sound came out—from neither you or him—and you were sure that the sight of you two just standing in the dark and staring at each other would’ve been comical if you weren’t terrified out of your mind. The figure finally moved to tilt his head, his only movement as it leaned to the left just a tad, and the angle made the light glint off of his eyes in a way that made your stomach churn.

You were quick to search for the big light.

You sharply inhaled at the sight of him, confirming what you already knew. He looked the same and different all at once. He was still handsome and tall and wore that expression like you were just so silly to him. However, his hair was longer and the bands of muscle that were his arms were thicker, and he stood with an assuredness that you didn’t like, at all. The flashy gold tooth necklace resting on his collarbone caught the light, and your eyes were briefly drawn to it.

You traced it, a frown taking residence on your face as your gaze kept going. The casual clothes you were used to seeing him in were nowhere in sight, and you took note of the dark attire he was wearing and its patterns. He looked nice—regal one might say—and you swallowed, a very bad feeling festering deep in your stomach.

“What? You got nothing to say to me?”

Hearing his voice for the first time in years brought up a whole lot of emotions you’d tried and failed to bury. You were reminded of his voice in your ear as he woke you up in the mornings or even when he was whispering the filthiest of things against your skin as he kissed his way down it. But you also remembered the angry tone of it when he was interrogating you about some guy who’d waved at you or was questioning your feelings for him.

You remembered loving him and craving him…but you also remembered how terrified he made you feel.

At that, you took a step back—almost dazed—and the man before you kissed his teeth.

“You still on that bullshit, huh.”

Those words—filled with so much dismissal and arrogance—finally made you find your voice.

“What are you doing here?” you gasped, your question coming out choked. “How did…?”

When Erik finally moved, half of him was bathed in the shadows from the rest of the house, and the kitchen light hit his eye again in the way it did before. It glinted dangerously, almost like a feline if you didn’t know any better, and you took another step back. Erik followed your movements intensely, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“How…” he tested the word in his mouth, humming. “How is never as important as why.”

You weren’t amused by whatever he was playing at, and that crooked smile only grew.

“So serious,” he mocked, moving to fold his hands behind his back as he looked you up and down, and you hated the way he swiped his tongue between his lips as he did so. “You’re not glad to see me? Not even a little?”

When you said nothing, you watched him roll his eyes, shaking his head and his locs moved with the action. When his gaze met yours again, all humor had been wiped from his face. His dark eyes were intense as he stared at you, lips pressed together and chest heaving with the deep breath he took. You felt like an insolent child beneath his gaze.

“You know what I’m doing here.”

He was entirely serious, and you didn’t doubt him for a second.

“No…”

“You had to know I was never gone let you just walk away from me like that,” he continued, slowly pacing the kitchen and backing you further into a corner with every step he took.

His words brought tears to your eyes, and in this moment, you hated him. What was the point then? Why did he give you false hope that you were free from him? Was it just to fuck with you? Was it his idea of a sick joke? As if he could read your mind, he elaborated.

“I had some things to do,” he told you. “Some…business to take care of before I came back for you and …”

He shrugged like that explained everything you’d been put through because of him.

“...and now that I got my shit together…got everything I deserved, it’s only right that I come back and get you too.”

A noise of disgust left your throat before you could stop yourself, and Erik didn’t try to stop you as you hurried past him. You didn’t hear him behind you as you made your way to the door, too nervous and fearful to look over your shoulder. However, once you made it to the front door, you realized that you didn’t hear Erik after you because he wasn’t after you.

He felt no need to be…and with good reason.

The statuesque women on the other side of your door made you come up short, mouth falling open as you took them in. They were beautiful and straight-faced, heads smooth and wearing colorful attire that didn’t deviate all that much from what Erik was wearing. The long spears in their hands had you stumbling back, and so in shock, you didn’t even register that you’d stumbled right into Erik.

One of his arms snaked around you while the other gently closed the door, effectively trapping you once again.

The silence was loud, and finally, a few tears escaped.

“Earlier you started to ask how I found you…”

You felt Erik’s lips grazing your ear before moving down to brush along your neck. One hand was on your waist while the other had found a home on your arm, kneading the skin through the thin robe. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent, and you swore that you felt him shudder against you.

The breath you let out was shaky, more tears collecting in your eyes.

“You’d be amazed at what you can do when you’re the king of Wakanda.”

Those damning words had your knees buckling, and when you attempted to throw yourself away from him, Erik’s hold tightened. One hand had a vice grip on your wrist while the other hand snaked around your neck.

“I like to tell myself that I did this because I deserve it, because I was wronged…but that ain’t all…”

When Erik leaned in to press his lips to yours, your mind was finally at war with your heart once again. You’d forgotten what it felt like to kiss him, forgotten what he tasted like, and you couldn’t stop the sharp breath you took as he moved his mouth against yours. The hand on your neck tightened just a tad, like a chain keeping you to him, and you felt him smile into the kiss.

“I like being somebody that you can’t ever leave.”

Those words whispered into your mouth made your heart sink, and your protest was lost as he kissed you again.

You shook in his hold for varying reasons, fear above all else. Erik had his hands on you again, and he had no intention of taking them off. They pulled you and pushed you where he wanted you to be, and it seemed that he decided the couch would suffice. He wasn’t bothered by your lack of consent, and somehow that didn’t surprise you.

There’d been moments in the past when you expressed discomfort or you protested or you rejected him and for the briefest of moments, something had passed through his eyes that made you think he didn’t care. A glint in his gaze that made you think he was going to do what he wanted—take what he wanted—anyway. You’d always had a nagging feeling deep in your chest that Erik was just holding back, keeping himself in check with you because it was socially acceptable and not because he actually wanted to.

…but he was a king, now—something you believed without a doubt—and that title corrupted even the best of men…let alone a man who already wasn’t shit to begin with.

When his bare chest grazed against yours, a shudder traveled down your spine, and Erik reached under you to trace that path with his fingers. One hand was still carefully at home on your neck, and the gold fangs in his mouth winked at you in the nearly invisible lighting. When you felt those abrasions underneath your fingers—every one for a kill—it suddenly hit you that you were underneath him again and for good this time.

“You don’t know how much I missed this pussy,” he murmured into your skin, a hand tightening almost painfully on your waist just as he sank into you.

The feel of his cock stretching you out had your back arching, chest pushing up against his. It hadn’t been just years without sex with Erik but years without sex altogether. Part of it was because you still had some lingering loyalty to the man between your legs, telling yourself he’d somehow know and find you—despite the fact that you weren’t his anymore—and part of it was because he’d simply ruined you for any other man. Either way, it all came back to Erik.

You couldn’t stop the strained gasps that left your lips, the slight sting and dull ache from the stretch making you dig your nails into his skin. This was not what you wanted, but you swore that Erik was stronger now than he ever had been before. The feel of him thrusting himself into you reminded you of all the hours you’d spent wrapped up in each other when things were still good between you. Hell, even when they weren’t, it wasn’t uncommon for an argument to end in you bent over the kitchen counter with Erik’s pelvis pressing against you.

He had a way of controlling a situation, steering it in whatever direction he wanted it to go.

Like now.

How was it that you go into hiding to remain safe from this man only to wind up at his mercy yet again? It was unfair, and you couldn’t stop trembling as you pushed against his chest.

“Erik…”

Your words died on your lips when he shushed you, his locs brushing against your skin as he nipped at your neck and then your shoulder and finally your chest. The light moan you let out was involuntary, and you hated that smug chuckle that escaped his lips.

“You always try to act so tough and shit…but we both know once I get my hands on you…”

Anger bubbled up within you at his words, and you couldn’t resist slapping him. Before where that might’ve pissed him off, Erik only smiled in your face. Taking your hand, he held it tight before pinning it against your stomach, and he looked down, briefly distracted by the sight of his cock disappearing into you. He slowed his thrusts down, and the change in pace almost made you roll your eyes.

“You gone love Wakanda, baby,” he said to you, lips meeting your skin again. “The most beautiful sunsets…”

He nipped at your shoulder.

“...anything you could ever want…”

Another kiss to your lips.

“...and guards to watch your every move.”

His nose touched yours as he said that, and you felt him reach down to hook his arm under your leg. You hissed, feeling him even deeper into your gut as he bent your leg back. Erik didn’t take his eyes off of you as he fucked you, hips meeting yours and the wet sound of his cock dipping into you reaching your ears.

“I came back just for you,” he darkly told you, completely ignoring your hand pushing at his stomach. “...because what kind of king would I be with no queen at my side?”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

[wafflefries13]

Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)

Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!

AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.

Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

Part 2: First Dates

The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din. 

“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full. 

“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said. 

Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.” 

“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.” 

“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly. 

“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?” 

“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.” 

Ace:

“Ace!” 

Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?” 

“Do you want to go out with me?” 

Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited. 

“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?” 

“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?” 

Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.” 

“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.” 

“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.” 

“What made you think that?” 

“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.” 

From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted. 

Deuce:

“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?” 

(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks. 

“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?” 

“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.” 

(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?” 

“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.” 

Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her. 

“(Y/N),” He began. 

She clasped her hands together. “Yes?” 

“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him. 

Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much. 

Trey: 

“Ow!” 

Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven. 

“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!” 

“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said. 

“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?” 

“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor. 

“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!” 

Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim. 

“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”

“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn. 

“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”

“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?” 

Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”  

Cater: 

Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed. 

He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one. 

Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it. 

Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before. 

It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.  

Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing. 

(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.) 

Riddle: 

Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping  (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door. 

“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!” 

Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?” 

(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!” 

Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?” 

Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses.. 

“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction. 

‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’ 

“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 

The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?” 

“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-” 

“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.” 

The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands. 

“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.” 

“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?” 

“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love. 

“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?” 

(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?” 

“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug. 

Leona: 

“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away. 

(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached. 

“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him. 

“Hmm,” He replied. 

“I have something important to ask you.” 

“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.” 

“Alright, ask away.” 

“Will you go out with me?” 

Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer. 

“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.” 

“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat. 

Ruggie: 

Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort. 

“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled. 

“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had). 

“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!” 

Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?” 

Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh. 

Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?” 

“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?” 

“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.” 

Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?” 

Jack: 

Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown. 

“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked. 

“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk. 

Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore. 

Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?” 

(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?” 

“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.” 

Azul: 

Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently. 

“Oh? I’d love to hear it.” 

Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date. 

“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?” 

Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes. 

“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?” 

He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.” 

Jade: 

(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?” 

“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” 

Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice. 

“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-” 

“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table. 

Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire. 

“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.” 

“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased. 

(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?” 

Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.” 

Floyd: 

Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her. 

She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often. 

Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs. 

“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!” 

Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.  

“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.” 

“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.” 

Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.” 

She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.” 

Kalim: 

Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work. 

He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside. 

“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?” 

There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered. 

“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 

“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything. 

“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.” 

Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?” 

“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.” 

“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.” 

(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.” 

They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace. 

“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!” 

(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?” 

Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?” 

Jamil: 

“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil. 

Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!” 

“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?” 

Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.” 

“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table. 

Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!” 

Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.” 

“But you told me you liked her!” 

“I said no such thing.” 

Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.” 

“There were no lines!” 

“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.” 

Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back. 

Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway. 

(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.” 

“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting. 

Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name. 

“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?” 

“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.” 

Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him. 

“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway. 

“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” 

(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.” 

Vil: 

Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing. 

Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here. 

Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk. 

Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar. 

“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles. 

A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world. 

Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?” 

Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.” 

Rook: 

“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.” 

“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.” 

“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.” 

Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye. 

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said. 

“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made. 

“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off. 

(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.” 

“Bonjour, Trickster.” 

“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.” 

Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.” 

“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading. 

(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!” 

“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?” 

“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug. 

Epel: 

Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere. 

He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever. 

Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues. 

Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’ 

That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood. 

Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’ 

Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes. 

“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?” 

“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile. 

She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?” 

Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.” 

Idia: 

Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves. 

The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support. 

One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten. 

“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!” 

Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time. 

“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!” 

“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’” 

Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice. 

He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed. 

He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts. 

He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.” 

Silver: 

(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk. 

(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.” 

Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer. 

(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees. 

A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her. 

“Hi,” She said. “Would  you want to go out with me?” 

Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red. 

(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?” 

Sebek: 

“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot. 

“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged. 

Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full. 

Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!” 

“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?” 

Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?” 

“Sure,” Epel said. 

(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along. 

Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!” He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality. 

“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.” 

“Blessing?” 

“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?” 

For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.” 

Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.” 

Lilia: 

Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him. 

So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two. 

“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face. 

“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.” 

Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well. 

“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly. 

“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back. 

Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.” 

Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway. 

“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp. 

Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?” 

(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage. 

“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 

Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?” 

Malleus: 

Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble. 

“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles. 

In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her. 

“What’s all this?” 

She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?” 

Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said. 

She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.” 

“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show. 

Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 2 | masterlist

-

Sweat beads on your brow as summer approaches its zenith. Its hottest point. You splurge on an iced caramel latte from the gas station on the way over and pick one up for John as well. Your arm is already stretched out when he opens the front door to let you in, offering it to him. 

“I, uh…thought you might want one as well,” you explain, stuttering through your words. Crumbling under his amused expression. 

You crave it though. His approval. That fond smile that seems reserved especially for you. The rare murmured good girl, his hand sometimes coming down to ruffle your hair. Even the memory of it makes your breath get lodged in your throat. You covet every crumb of it.

He takes the iced latte from you though before heading out for the day. Gift received. Even squeezes your shoulder in thanks before he shuts the door behind him, and you manage to keep from swooning until you hear his car pull out of the driveway. 

You stand by the window with the baby pressed to your chest for so little that you can’t blame when a little fist tugs at your hair. 

“Sorry, lovie,” you whisper into his fuzzy hair. Inhale deeply. 

It’s not as though you’re starved for things to do. Were John’s son a few years older, you might have your work cut out for you, but there’s still plenty to do around the house even when you put the baby down for his morning nap. You save the vacuuming for when baby is awake and you’re not in danger of hearing him suddenly start crying through the baby monitor, but you dust and fold laundry and start the dishwasher and take the recycling out and by the time the baby is ready for lunch, you’ve already broken a light sweat. 

Let no one tell you that babysitting is a walk in the park.

That being said, you do put the baby in his stroller for a walk in the park after lunch. 

The park isn’t terribly far from John’s house, so coupled with the short path around the park and the walk back, you’ll get a good amount of steps in today without risking the baby being late for his mid afternoon nap. 

It’s hard to not have an accidental, forbidden thought. Something like I wonder if anyone thinks I’m the baby’s mom when you push the stroller past a group of moms gathered together near the jungle gym, their kids sprinting on wobbly legs and climbing like dexterous little wildlings. 

Those thoughts are dangerous though, best kept under wraps. Clandestine. Because once you start having those thoughts, they never really go away; they just get relegated to a part of your brain that switches on when the lights go off and you think about what it must have been like to carry a baby in your stomach for nine months. 

You’re in danger, girl, a small voice in your head warns you. It’s hard to hear her clearly these days. 

John comes earlier for once, around midday. It takes you by surprise. You jump when the door opens, the sound ricocheting off the walls like a gunshot and, in that same second, a wave of terror and rage washes over you, your heart already racing at the thought of someone breaking in while it’s just you and the baby home. You spring to your feet, hands already trembling by your sides, and then his familiar shape walks into the room, boots still on and all.

He pauses when he sees your shoulders slump with relief. 

“Sorry,” you breathe, heart still racing. “I thought you were…” Your voice trails off towards the end because you don’t know how to say it without sounding silly. 

His eyes cut to the baby in the bouncy chair behind you, your body still stood protectively in front of him, and then they soften. 

“No, that’s on me—should’ve given you a ring before I left,” he says, a light apology in his voice. He throws his keys into the bowl in the foyer before stalking towards you. You stare up at him wide eyed, only blinking when he ruffles your hair before bypassing you to go pick up his son. 

“How’s my baby?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the baby’s milksoft cheek, and your heart spins and cartwheels in your chest. All sorts of tricks that keep you rooted in place, unable to manage a single word. “You been good today?”

I’ve been good, you almost croak out, the words on the tip of your tongue. You swallow. Force them back down. You’re not his baby. 

Another dinner invitation that you can’t turn down. Not because it wouldn’t be polite but because you couldn’t muster up the will to refuse even if you really did have plans. Lucky that you don’t. 

When he puts the baby down to sleep for the night, you linger by the door, sure you’re a platitude or two away from being shown out for the night. John calls your name from the kitchen though, drawing you deeper into the house again. 

“Go put something on,” he instructs when you idle under the archway of the door. With his back to you, you can’t make out the expression on his face, leaving you no choice but to gawp at the undulation of his shoulder muscles as he washes out the dishes before stacking them in the dishwasher. “You want something to drink?”

“Just, uh—” you rasp, clearing your throat. “Just juice, thanks.”

You can’t settle on anything to stream, nothing perking your interests; or maybe you’re just too antsy to make an informed decision on what to watch right now. 

There are other things to worry about. Like John moving around in the other room or the way your denim shorts ride up when you sit down, bunching up at the crotch. You make an attempt to lift your hips and pull them back down as much as you can, but you panic and abort your plan when John comes into the room, embarrassed at the thought of being caught readjusting yourself. 

The cushion under you bounces slightly when John drops himself down onto the couch beside you, the motion making your shorts ride up even more. You wince when the seam presses tight against your clit, on the edge of mildly painful and turning you on. 

“Here, sweetheart,” he says, putting his own drink down on the coffee table before handing you your glass of juice. 

“Thanks,” you bleat, taking a sip almost instantly to mask the look on your face, afraid he’ll read the panic there and press for details. 

He sits closer than usual, as he always does these days. It’s not something you ever discuss. It just seems to happen. Slowly, like ice sheets drifting over water. One day you’re sitting on opposite sides of the couch and the next he’s all up in your space, thigh to thigh with you while the living room goes dark and the TV glows, the reflection throbbing against the glass. An ever-flickering light that illuminates the side of his head when you peer up at him.

Your tongue rests against the roof of her mouth, dry; sparing.

With his arm resting on the back of the couch over your shoulder, the scent of him is almost smothering. Each inhale makes your head spin. If you were to tilt your head to the side, you’d be level with his armpit, his scent strongest there, and that thought spins in your head like a merry-go-round until someone in the movie you’re supposed to be watching shouts, dragging your attention back to it. 

“Christ, these are little, huh?” John grunts, suddenly reaching over to pinch the frayed ends of your shorts between his fingers. “This what the kids these days are wearing?” 

You don’t know how to respond to that. Your body’s so hot that you feel like you’re swimming in heat, sweat prickling at your hairline and on the back of your neck. 

“I-it’s hot out,” you stutter, your whole body suddenly hot. With how high your shorts have ridden up, his fingers are precariously close to your core, just a hairsbreadth from skimming up your inner thigh and brushing against your folds, now plump and sensitive. 

You wonder if he can make out the outline of your pussy from underneath your shorts. They hug into the seam of your legs, pinching the skin of your inner thighs. You don’t dare glance down. 

He hums, pulling his hand away and you stare wide eyed at the television in front of you when you shift and the glide between your legs tells you just how wet you are. Sitting on the couch next to your boss twice your age with a wet pussy. 

You lean forward to try and readjust, masking the movement by reaching blindly for your glass on the coffee table at the same time. You must pick up the wrong glass by accident though because when you go to lift it to your lips, John’s hand stops you, fingers curling around yours and easily tugging the glass away from your mouth. 

“No, baby, that’s mine; bit young for a drink, aren’t you?” John chuckles, eyes squinting with his smile. 

“I’m legal,” you frown, pouting. 

He acts like that sometimes; like he doesn’t keep track of how old you are. 

“All right, but only a sip, got it?” he cautions, handing you the glass. 

You don’t know why you take it. You would’ve been better admitting to your mistake and putting the glass back down. 

He chuckles when you wince on your sip, nearly spitting it up. Horrifically embarrassing because it’s not like you’ve never had a drink before. You’ve gone out for drinks plenty of times with friends. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, taking the glass from you and flicking his knuckle against your bottom lip as he does. “That’s what I thought.”

And it happens again and again. Head resting on his shoulder when you drift off on the couch before he shakes you awake. In the grocery store, he comes up behind you while you’re pushing the cart and puts his arms around to steer you down another aisle, his broad chest pressed against your back. 

You hold your tongue. Bite off and chew the words. Because it’s nothing; it’s innocent. You’ve known from the get-go that John is more of a man of action than words. If anything, you’re the one reading too much into things. Little touch-starved girl from the bad side of town. It’s not his fault that you preen when he praises you; that you bunt your head against his hand when he ruffles your hair. Every drop of affection soaked up, savoured. Nourishing your heart and your soul. So lonely, so wanting. All those years holed up on your own, no warm body in the bed beside you. 

Then John Price waltzed in and you expected to keep everything sealed up tight in your chest.

So it’s no wonder you gorge yourself on his touch and hope he doesn’t notice the way you lean into it. The rabbit-quick beat of your heart. Your want simmering under your skin, a disgusting, base thing desperate for gentleness. 

You wonder if he sees the same thing when he looks at you.

In the heat of summer, John invites you to join him and the baby for a weekend at the beach in Portugal.

You only say yes because it’s the dog days of summer. At the beach, there’ll be umbrellas to sit under and beer coolers of cold drinks and the ice cold Atlantic to swim in. Plus, you’ve had little opportunity in your life to travel—you’ve barely stepped foot in France, never mind Portugal. But John has friends with a house in the Algarve that have graciously offered him the week, so who are you to say no to such a thoughtful gesture? 

The only reason you consider not going is because you can’t shake the sense of foreboding. 

“Baby, can you get my back?” John asks when you arrive at the beach the first day of your trip, and when you turn back to him, you have to act quick to catch the sunscreen lobbed your way. 

That’s how you find yourself kneeling in the sand behind him, rubbing sunscreen on his back. His shoulders flex under your hands, and you can feel the muscle bunching and relaxing with each swipe across his shoulder blades. The worst is when you get to his low back. John’s groans are obscenely loud, guttural rumblings from the back of his throat. Ravenous. 

“Okay, that’s everything,” you chirp, rubbing the excess off on your thighs. 

“Good,” John says, twisting around. “Now it’s your turn.”

Your eyes widen.

“Wait—I don’t need to—”

You don’t know quite how he manages it, but a couple minutes later, you find yourself lying flat on your stomach on your beach towel, John squirting a good amount of sunscreen onto the middle of your back. All you get as a warning is the sunscreen bottle tossed to the ground beside your head before two big hands come down to your back to massage the cream into your skin. 

There’s nowhere for you to go when John throws a leg over your hips to straddle you. He holds the majority of his weight off you, but despite his best efforts, you can still feel his dick against your ass, his loose swim shorts doing nothing to hold him in place. 

He doesn’t ask for permission before undoing the knot holding your bikini top together, one quick pull and then the garment loosens around your chest. You can feel the fabric pool around you on the towel. 

“John, you—” you start, almost coming up onto your elbows before realizing that your top won’t be coming with you if you do. 

“Just gotta make sure I get your whole back, baby,” he reassures you, both hands gliding up your back to curve around your shoulders before dragging back down. “Won’t be more than a minute.”

It’s no use calling him out on the lie because there’s nothing you could do even if you did.

With hands as big as his, his fingers can’t help brushing the sides of your tits every time he smooths his hands down your back. You bite your lip nearly raw to keep from letting your moans escape, toes curling in the sand underneath you and thank god John is facing the other way or else your arousal would be clear as day to him. The gusset of your bathing suit is already damp and you haven’t even gotten in the water yet. 

His hands drag up and down your back, lathering the lotion into your skin, massaging it into the muscle. Each pass of his hands making your eyes roll back, breath coming out in choppy pants. Tweaking when the palms of his hands easily encompass your shoulders, nearly tickling under your arms.

“There we go. All done,” he announces, jolting you out of the lustful fog you’d slipped into during his ministrations. 

“All good?” you ask, a touch breathy. 

“Mhm,” John rumbles, smoothing a hand up your back one last time, just to double check. Only clenching your fists until the skin around your knuckles tighten keeps you from shuddering at his touch. “Lemme just—” 

Your throat constricts when you feel him reknot the back of your bikini top, fingers quick and deft for their size. He’s tied knots before. It’s better not to let that thought sink in too deep. 

Turning over onto your back takes a near insuperable amount of energy, the rest wrung from your body by the hands now preoccupied with readjusting his shorts. 

“You alright if I take him for a swim?” John asks, holding his squirming son against his bare chest. 

You wave him off, a hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun. 

You can’t help but stare at his ass as he walks away, practically mesmerised. In the water, he wades up to his knees with his son still cradled in one arm. The ocean water laps at his shins, dappled with light, low waves in the distance scintillating at their peaks. The ends of his swim shorts cling to his legs as the water leaches into the fabric. 

Trying to keep your eyes off him is a losing game, not when John’s clad in nothing more than a pair of swim trunks, broad shoulders and chest on display, and now your hands tingle with the memory of how they felt rubbing suntan lotion over his skin. His trunks are pulled taut around thick thigh muscles, just barely loose enough to keep from being indecent. 

The panic returns when you catch some nearby women ogling him, one angling her body towards him like she’s considering walking over, and that’s when your heart beats too fast and you stumble to your feet, leaving your beach towel and umbrella behind to go join John in the water. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he greets when you’re only a few steps away, shivering when the cold water touches your feet. “Missed us, did ya?”

He reels you in with his free arm, pulling you into his side before transferring the baby into the cradle of your arms. Doesn’t even flinch when your breast is pressed against his side, as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary. As if your cheek wasn’t nearly flush with the pelt of dark hair growing in whorls on his chest, your eye level with a dark, flat nipple. 

The girls hovering nearby scrunch their noses up when they notice you snuggled up against John’s chest. Assuming you must be someone special for him to be holding you that way; like a girlfriend or a wife—

You choke off the rest of that thought before it can take root. 

The rest of the trip is no better. You’re a right mess made worse by the cloying heat and the forced proximity. At the restaurant, John pulls your chair out for you and then sits right beside you, arm resting on the back of your chair while he talks, cologne clotting the air around you. He’s popular wherever he goes—easy candour and winsome smile able to make anyone, from the servers to the other patrons, want to get to know him better. 

All you can do is bask in the radiance; a sun in the middle of any room. 

Back at the house, you sleep in the other room, only a single, flimsy wall between your room and John’s. The walls are so thin that you can hear every groan and snore and snuffle, head ringing with his sounds until you fall asleep and they permeate your dreams instead. 

At seven in the morning, you wake to the sound of him rolling over in his bed, the mattress squeaking under his weight, and taking himself in hand. The sound of flesh against flesh; the groans bitten off too late for you not to catch them, sweat beading on your hairline as you stare at the white wall and picture John on the other side, big chest panting with his breaths as he tugs on his cock. You listen until his final groan, fingers petting at your clit until you have no choice but to turn your head into your pillow to muffle your sobs. 

As best as you try to put it out of mind, you can’t meet his eyes at breakfast. 

You flinch when the same hand that he must’ve used to jerk himself off comes down onto the top of your head when John goes to refill his mug of coffee. “Sleep well last night?” he asks, deep voice still coated in sleep. 

“Not bad,” you whisper. 

Shivering when he drops his hand to the junction between your shoulder and your neck and gives it a squeeze.

[pythonmoth]

Flatmate!Simon comforting you after a bad break up 🥀

You found your partner cheating on you. The usual deal: it's not you, it's me, you deserve better. I didn't mean to hurt you!

Hours later, with a glass of whiskey in hand, you stare out of the window, rain pouring and hitting the glass aggressively. You're glad Simon isn't here, because this is pathetic.

You rarely speak to Simon, really. Being as busy as he is with the military and whatnot, he's usually too tired to talk. He isn't messy, and the only annoying thing about him is that he often smokes. He tries to be nice about it though, using this very same window.

On your third glass, feeling sorry for yourself and sniffing, a voice calls behind you. "Are you crying?"

It makes you jump, eyes wide as you turn to him. Simon wasn't supposed to be back yet, but then again, you don't really know what he does. He's wearing his uniform, slightly wet from the rain. His bags fall on the ground as he takes his boots off. No boots allowed inside, only slippers.

"No," you grumble, wiping some tears off your cheeks.

You're expecting... anything, really, except Simon sitting on the floor next to you, stealing your glass and taking a swig from it. It makes you pause but, far from feeling upset, you take the bottle and pour some more, not taking the glass back until Simon hands it to you.

"Alright."

Simon doesn't say anything for a while, both of you sharing the glass. When the rain slows down, Simon opens the window and lights up a cigarette. You don't protest. He hands it to you. It's awful and disgusting, but the taste of the whiskey with it isn't so bad. Soon, Simon fills the glass, and lights up another cigarette.

"Love?"

"Hm?"

A soft laugh makes it past Simon's lips. "Is love your problem?" he clarifies.

Cheeks burning, you mumble against the glass, wishing you could drown in it. "Yeah. Cheated on me, I'm too good for them, blah, blah."

It's quiet, a little cold from the rain now that the window is open, and Simon doesn't make fun of you for the little misunderstanding. He hums, simply handing you the cigarette back as he takes the glass from your hands.

"Was it bad?" Simon wonders, shifting so he's resting against the wall, staring directly at you. His left arm rests on his knee, holding the cigarette out of the window.

"I told them to rot in hell, so I guess so," you sigh, feeling both embarrassed and angry. It was awful, and you had to hold back from kicking them down the stairs, but there's no need to tell Simon that.

"Good job."

"Hm."

For a while, it's just the two of you. Simon's nice cigarettes (they weren't so bad after all), and your favorite whiskey. Simon didn't ask anything unnecessary, didn't pry and didn't seem interested in pitying you.

But then, your phone rings, breaking the cozy atmosphere. You ignore it as it rings on your back pocket, sighing with annoyance as it goes on for another three times.

"Not trying to tell you what to do, but you're not answering that, I hope."

Taking the phone out of your pocket, you place it on the ground between the two of you. A bright Asshole flashes on your screen. "No."

Simon, however, takes your phone, a growing smirk on his face. "You're for sure not getting back with them, right?"

"Never. But why—"

Your eyes widen when Simon picks up, putting the call on speaker. Your ex's voice is high pitched with the crying tone, sobbing and whining, begging you to speak to them.

"We're a little busy. Don't call again," Simon's gruff voice scoffs, suddenly sounding breathless. It hits you then, what he's trying to do.

Immediately, your ex's sobbing and the whining stops. "What the fuck? Where is—"

In disbelief, you stare at Simon, who starts slapping his own thigh repeatedly. "Busy. Goodbye." Not wasting a moment, he turns your phone off, looking incredibly satisfied.

"Very mature," you grumble, your lips wobbling.

"Why, thank you."

Unable to help yourself, you finally laugh, your shoulders shaking with amusement. Simon smiles, seemingly content as he shrugs, taking a swig from the glass.

Surely, your ex knows where you live, so they'll probably show up at some point. But right now, all that matters to you is that Simon is giving you a small smile. No pity. No empty “it's gonna be okay”.

He just hands the glass of whiskey back to you.

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

[wheeboo]

for a moment, forever | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which while shopping for wedding dresses for your best friend, you can't help but want to try one on too. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader (ft. jihyo from twice as reader's engaged best friend) GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. mild cursing, terms of endearment, reader wears a wedding dress, cheol doesn't show up until like halfway into the fic HAHAH WORD COUNT. 2.2k

notes: this is lowkey me describing my dream dress if i do somehow get married lmao so also self indulgent too ig, and it was fun searching up dresses! this also reminds me of that one scene from extraordinary attorney woo. if u know u know :') happy belated bday cheol <3

[02:39PM | y/n] should be done with jihyo's appointment in a few hours!! you can pick me up then bub❤️

[2:41PM | cheol 💕] Sounds good, my love. I'll see you then 😊

"Wait, oh my God, that one is beautiful!"

"Right?!" Jihyo exclaims eagerly before swiping to the next photo in her camera roll, on it displayed a gorgeous mermaid wedding dress that she had saved from Pinterest. "Okay, not sure if I like the mermaid ones but this was one was too pretty to not be saved."

"You can always ask to try one on too. I still think you'd rock whichever one you put on," You tell her, lacing an arm around hers as the two of you approach the bridal boutique that was just around the corner. "I still can't believe you're getting married."

When you and Jihyo exchange knowing glances with each other, squeals of excitement escape both of you. It feels surreal, almost like a dream knowing that your best friend is about to walk down the aisle and take her first steps into married life. Just ahead of the two of you, the bridal boutique gleams with soft lights and elegantly displayed gowns in the windows.

As you both step inside, the cozy warmth of the boutique wraps around you, and a subtle, lingering floral scent and delicate perfume fills the air. The interior is enchanting yet inviting, with a variety of dresses arranged by style. The boutique's consultant greets you both with a welcoming smile, and after a brief chat and a rundown of the different options, she leads you to a private area where Jihyo can begin her fitting.

You follow Jihyo as she naturally gravitates towards the gowns on display. You can tell she's already picturing herself in each dress. It's a bit overwhelming being surrounded by so many intricately designed dresses, like you've walked straight into a world of fairytale. Lace, satin, tulle𑁋every fabric imaginable seems to be represented here.

While helping Jihyo pick out some dresses, you can't lie that some have caught your eye more than you can admit. Knowing that one day these dresses will be worn by someone on of the most important days of your life fills you with awe. The thought makes your heart full, and briefly, you can't but help but imagine yourself walking down the aisle one day.

For a moment, your mind flickers to the thought of Seungcheol, and your heart does a jump.

One particular white tulle, floral embroidered dress with off-shoulder sleeves catches your attention. It's a perfect blend of elegance and romance. You let your hand run over the delicate embroidery, marvelling with admiration at the elaborate details caressed over every inch of it. The floral patterns are so finely crafted that they seem to bloom like real flowers right out of the fabric.

"Y/N, you need to try that on right now!"

You turn swiftly at the sound of Jihyo's commanding voice. "What? No, I can't𑁋"

"Come on, please!" Jihyo urges insistently while holding just about a dozen dresses in her hands. "It's so beautiful!"

"But this is for your special day, not𑁋"

"Honey, you and Seungcheol have been together for so long now, and sooner or later, you're going to have your special day too. Just try it on for fun, and I’d love to see how it looks on you!"

Okay, she really didn't have to bring up Seungcheol like that, but now you can't get it out of your head. An odd, fluttery feeling bursts in your stomach on top of the embarrassment crawling up your neck.

"Fine," You relent with a playful look. "But I'll do it after you try on all your dresses. Once again, today is for you, missy."

A wide grin spreads across her face as she shuffles towards the fitting room. "It's a deal!"

The next hour or so you spend lounging on the couch as Jihyo tries on dress after dress. Each one seems to bring out a different side of her: from elegant to dramatic, playful to sophisticated. You can’t help but laugh and cheer her on, snapping pictures and videos to capture every moment. You also help with various aspects of the fittings, from adjusting straps to even adding the veil on her head.

"You look like a princess!" You exclaim, clapping your hands as she twirls in a voluminous ball gown in front of the mirror.

"I feel like one!" Jihyo giggles, even doing a dramatic hair flip to add for an endearing touch.

The last one that she tries on is a mermaid dress with stunning lace detailing and a long, flowing train that spreads across the floor like ocean waves. As she steps out of the fitting room, the dress hugs her curves perfectly, and she looks every bit of a confident, radiant bride shining in her own element.

"Girl," You gasp out, voice full of awe. "that dress was made for you. You look absolutely stunning!"

Jihyo gazes at herself in the mirror. "Really?"

"Yes!" You claim, and you almost want to cry thinking about your best friend walking down the aisle. "I can so picture you walking down the aisle in this, holy shit."

Jihyo chuckles bashfully at your reaction.

"I'm going to be a bride," she says aloud, somewhat to herself and in a way announcing to the world too, before turning to you with a gleeful expression. "I'm going to be a bride!"

[04:45PM | cheol 💕] Are you done, sweetheart? I got to leave work earlier and just arrived at the place. Might come in since it's boiling outside 😅

"I really don't know about this𑁋"

"Come on, just try it on!" Jihyo nudges you ever so slightly to the fitting room, the dress trembling in your grasp. "This will be us doing some early preparations for your wedding, 'kay?"

Reluctantly, you find yourself stepping into the fitting room, the dress in your hands feeling both light and heavy at the same time. Taking a long, deep breath, you start to change into the dress as the consultant comes to your side to assist.

At first, the fabric feels odd against your skin, the delicate embroidery and soft tulle brushing against your shoulders as you put on the dress. The off-shoulder sleeves fit surprisingly snug when you slip them through your arms. The floral patterns seem to come alive right before your eyes, just like they had when you first saw the dress.

You take the first glance of yourself in the mirror in the fitting room, and it's almost as if you've been kicked in the gut and all the words had left you.

"Wow," You whisper to yourself, doing a small spin to see how the dress looks, and it feels absolutely magical to be the one wearing this dress right now.

Scrambling slightly, you look around your scattered belongings on the floor for your phone, knowing that you just have to capture this very moment before you would have to take the dress off.

But you can't find your phone anywhere.

"Crap, where did I put it?" You mumble annoyedly, having to move your dress around to get a better look, yet you still don't see it. Did you leave it outside? "Hey, Jihyo! If you're out there, can you pass me my phone?"

No response.

"Jihyo?"

Still no response.

Deflating your shoulders, you decide you might as well step outside to retrieve it.

"I didn't think the dress would fit this good. It's a bit heavier than I thought but I think I could manage𑁋"

And then you freeze, almost as if you were caught red-handed committing some sort of heinous crime, because Seungcheol is standing not that far away from you, eyes wide with disbelief and mouth dropped down to the floor at the sight of you wearing the wedding dress.

For a few moments, it's like the world stops as well, and you start to feel a little self-conscious under his gaze.

"Cheol? What are you..." Then you look down at yourself and the dress you were wearing. "You're here earlier than I-I thought, I should go change𑁋"

Seungcheol blinks back to reality from your words. "Wait, no, don't move, please."

He keeps his eyes locked on you, his gaze moving from your face, to the way the dress hugs and accentuates your figure in all the right ways, then back up again. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. You can't help but feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you stand there, awkwardly holding the hem of the dress in your sweaty hands.

You can hear your heart pounding in your chest. This is not how you imagined seeing Seungcheol after Jihyo's appointment. You were expecting a casual, friendly greeting, maybe a quick kiss, and then a drive home. But this... this is different. You've been with Seungcheol for years, but he's staring at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

"Wow, I..." He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly before placing his hands in his pockets. "You're fucking breathtaking, honey."

Your cheeks burn brighter than ever, some sort of choked sound leaving you at his bluntness. You glance down at the dress, then back at Seungcheol.

"You... You think so?" You ask, voice timid and tainted with unsureness.

"Think so?" he repeats, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I know so. I can't take my eyes off you."

A rush of heat climbs up your neck as you avert your eyes away, pretending to adjust the hem of the dress, fingers clumsily tugging at the material. The dress suddenly feels suffocatingly hot and you don't know how much more you can take.

His eyes still don't leave you even when he steps closer, the features of his face softening into simply an adoring look.

You could feel your feet melting into the ground below. "Cheol, I should really go change𑁋"

"Not yet," he says firmly, and you stay put. "Just let me look at you for a little longer, please?"

That familiar, pleading tone to his voice makes your heart run laps in your chest and causes your knees to feel like jelly. He takes a few more steps towards you, and before you know, he's standing right in front of you, half-lidded eyes flickering between yours and your lips. He takes a hand out of his pocket and reaches out to gently cup your face, letting a finger trace slowly over your cheek, leaning in just close enough to whisper in your ear.

"I can't wait to marry you."

His words come out so quiet that you're barely able to hear it. And before you can respond, some loud, marching footsteps snaps you out of thought.

"Y/N! Look at this, I found the perfect veil for you!" When Jihyo sees you and Seungcheol, she stops short in her tracks, glancing at the sight of you in the dress and Seungcheol standing in front of you appearing as if he was just two seconds away from kissing you.

You clear your throat loudly, stepping away from Seungcheol and towards Jihyo.

"You found a veil for me?" You ask her.

"Yeah, put it on!" Jihyo hands you the dainty veil. "I went through hell trying to find a good one and I think this one works perfectly."

You feel Seungcheol's eyes on you as you carry the veil towards the mirror and carefully place it over your head. The light, airy fabric showers down around you, complementing the elegant gown. As you adjust the veil to your liking, you catch a glimpse of your reflection and can't help but smile. You see Seungcheol in the mirror as well, staring at you with an intense gaze of admiration.

And when you turn around, Seungcheol thinks you look more beautiful than what his imagination could possibly give him. He has to bite at his bottom lip in order to suppress some of the giddiness threatening to spread throughout his body, and the thought of seeing you again in a wedding dress makes him almost dizzy.

You're like an angel who has stepped foot into his world. The dress houses your wings and the veil is your halo. It's a perfect vision of the future he’s been dreaming about for so long it nearly makes him burst; a reality that he never thought he'd be seeing so soon.

He's going to marry you𑁋he knows he will. He knew that from that moment you first smiled at him back in your freshman year English class, all because you both simply made unexpected eye contact while you were introducing yourself. He knew it even more when he embarrassingly fell on his ass during a university soccer game and your laugh was the only sound that he could hear.

This is his first peek of forever with you, and he can't wait for it to all come true.

Seungcheol faintly hears you ask what he thinks about it, and only the heavens know how much he wants to answer by putting that ring stashed in the depths of his bedside drawer on your finger right then and there. But there's a time and place for everything. He has to make sure everything is perfect first.

So, yeah, he should really get to planning. And right now seems like a good start.

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[junkissed]

monster

member — incubus!cheol x f reader genre — smut, supernatural (demon), pwp word count — 2.2k synopsis — who said you aren't allowed to fuck your sleep paralysis demon? warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, monster cock!cheol, mean dom!cheol, masturbation (reader), messy blowjob, rough throat fucking, throat bulge kink, choking/breathplay, dacryphilia, some degredation and praise, a little humiliation, throat training (kinda), cum in mouth, sooooo much cum, cheol is a demon both metaphorically and literally, cheol has a tail and uses it for kinky purposes, objectification (of reader), nicknames (darling, sweetheart, slut, good girl, toy, etc.), implied established relationship ? (this is not their first time together) notes — thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics @kwanisms for help brainstorming the demon part and @cheolism @onlymingyus @beomcoups for proofreading !! i really wanted to put out one more spooky fic before december hehe. if you enjoyed this fic, please remember to reblog!! it's super important for sharing my work and it lets me know this is something people wanna see more of :)

“darling, now what did i tell you about touching yourself without me?”

you startle at the sudden low voice whispering in your ear, and your cheeks grow hot as you sit up straighter on the bed. your skin prickles with the sudden feeling of being watched, tingling almost in excitement. 

you already know who it is even before his figure fades into visibility. his face still obscured in shadow and your room is dark, illuminated by nothing but the faint gleam of the moon shining in through your window. even so, you know his piercing eyes can see through the dark when yours can't. 

he looks different each time he arrives. sometimes it’s the long blond hair, slicked back with gel and a single strand falling across his forehead. sometimes it’s the black hair, shaved close on the sides with half of it tied back in a bun. but the red that he wears tonight has always been your favorite: a bright, unnaturally glowing shade that seems to match his fiery personality.

that’s how he appears to you now, dressed in his usual purple suit, the deep neckline showing off the muscles in his broad chest and his tail curled in a relaxed coil around his leg. a thick silver chain hangs around his neck and instinctively you shiver at the sight of it, the memory of it seared into your skin from all the times he's held you down rough and fast and let it drag across your back, just the way you like it.

“you were expecting me, weren’t you?” he murmurs. his voice is warm and deep like a pool of water, and each time you hear it, it only makes you want to jump deeper and deeper into him.

“m-maybe,” you manage breathlessly, though both of you know it’s so obviously a lie.

he laughs, but his tone isn’t humorous. you can practically see the smirk in his voice even without being able to see his face. “of course you were. or else you wouldn’t be sitting there, soaking through your panties and thinking about me like the depraved little slut you are. isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

the bedroom suddenly brightens with a warm orange glow, as if lit by a candle, except there's nothing there. cheol finally steps out of the shadows, allowing you to see all of him. the look on his face radiates condescension, yet it only makes the heat between your legs burn hotter. 

you don't give him an answer to his question, and he doesn't pry for one. that's how this usually goes; you both know exactly what the other is here for anyway. once you're sure he's watching, you slowly pull your fingers from your cunt and keep your legs spread to reveal your glistening, sticky arousal that he loves so much, and that's enough of an answer to keep him satisfied for now. he doesn't react, but you can tell he's enjoying the sight from the way his eyes begin to glow a deep, hungry red.

you get up off the bed and start to move towards him, but he vanishes. a laugh sounds from behind you, and you whip around to see him sitting where you had been on the bed.

cheol spreads his thighs apart, leaning back against the headboard of your bed, and you take it as an invitation to move back towards him. you're already starting to feel the neediness returning, the empty feeling only heightened by his presence.

you try to sit down but his hand catches your arm, wrapped around your wrist to keep you at a distance.

“ah ah ah,” he scolds, holding back a laugh at your pout of confusion. “you already had your turn. if you behave for me, then i might consider giving you something in return.”

you nod quickly, and he smirks, directing you to kneel between his thighs instead. “mm… my good girl, always so eager.” 

he leans closer to you and fists his hand through your hair, his fingers tangling in your hair to pull you up and force your head to be level with his. he whispers against your cheek and it raises goosebumps on your skin, his eyes dark and narrowed as he bares his teeth with a grin. “i think you might just be one of my favorites, you know? such a cute little thing you are.”

he lets go of your hair and you reposition yourself to lay as comfortably as you can, now face to face with his cock as he pushes away his pants. you may be one of his favorites, but he's also one of yours. the first time he appeared was the last time you slept with a human man, and as long as you have him you'll never want to again. there's no desire for the mediocre hookups of the past when you have the devil's right hand man using his hands on you. seungcheol fits in all the right places, in all the right ways, and each time with him is even more satisfying than the last.

you tentatively wrap your hand around the base of his cock, trying to guide him into your mouth. this part never gets easier on you, but it's well worth it for the pleasure he gives you in return. 

“relax, sweetheart,” he coos as you slide your lips further down. “you're so tense. you want to take it all, don't you? breathe through your nose, you know the drill.”

to anyone else his words might sound kind, but you know the way he's teasing you is anything but kind. you whimper and try to follow his direction, forcing your jaw to go slack as you try to fit more down your throat. slowly but surely you manage to take him into your mouth, but your lips still only reach halfway down his length.

he pushes his hips up into your mouth once he's given you a moment to adjust, an experimental thrust to see if you're ready. you choke a little and let out a gagging sound, your eyes instantly starting to water as he hits the back of your throat. but you don't tell him to stop, and he doesn't stop.

you keep trying to relax your jaw, letting the length of his cock slide against your tongue with wet, messy noises.

cheol's tail wraps itself around your neck and you stifle a strangled gasp in surprise. his cock is so far down your throat it’s already almost hard to breathe, but the added pressure as he chokes you makes it even harder. you're lightheaded from the feeling but not enough to hurt, teetering on the line between pleasure and pain. 

“you look absolutely pathetic, darling,” he says, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest. “so gorgeous.”

your arms are shaking from holding yourself up on your elbows, but his praise is what keeps you going, choking back a whimper as you take his cock further down your throat. your vision blurs around the edges, but you can feel the spit dribbling from your mouth as it runs down his length. he makes it impossible to focus on anything besides the bruising pace of his cock.

cheol coos in fake sympathy, his tail coiling just a little tighter around your neck. “aw, poor thing. is it too difficult for you, sweetheart? you're trying so hard to be good for me. just relax.”

at this angle he can't see it, but he can feel the way your throat bulges around his length. he can feel the ridges of your throat tightening around his cock with each labored breath you take, barely enough room to allow air into your lungs. if you were in a different position he'd be able to see the faint outline of his cock stretching your throat, expanding and contracting as you struggle to meet his thrusts.

“you're loving this, aren't you? i can tell. i can smell it.” he inhales deeply through his nostrils, as if to prove his point. “ahh. like cinnamon, and… peaches. i can practically taste you from here, my darling. so sweet…”

if your mouth weren't so full and you could speak properly right now, you'd probably be whining seungcheol's name and begging for more. no matter how many times he tells you to forget him, he always ends up back in your bed like this. maybe he really does have a favorite.

he groans and rolls his neck back, his skin flushed red as he looks down at you. fuck, what a sight: your pretty little ass up in the air and your lips stretched around him, looking up at him with pleading eyes filled with tears.

cheol lets out another laugh, his voice just a little strained as he teases you. “if you hadn't already soaked through your cute little panties before i got here, then i'd bet they definitely are by now.”

you choke a little around him, caught off guard by his words, but he's not wrong. you wiggle your hips involuntarily, trying your best to hold still but it's hard to stay focused. your head is fuzzy and your senses are overwhelmed, your throat burning with friction both inside and out.

your grip starts to loosen around the base of his cock but seungcheol just tsks and repeats your name, his tail squeezing once to get your attention. “use your hands, darling, you have them for a reason. now just stay still, relax for me.” he flashes you a grin. “don't want to hurt my favorite toy, of course.”

his thrusts into your mouth grow more hurried, shoving his cock down your throat faster and sloppier with each snap of his hips. the force of his movements is unnaturally strong, and although you know by now that he's right on the edge, he barely looks like he's breaking a sweat. 

he finally releases with a deep groan, spilling down your throat and flooding your mouth. his thrusts don't stop, only slowing down a fraction as he tilts his head back, letting out another satisfied moan.

you know better than to stop without cheol's permission, so you hold your head in place and try to keep up with him. your eyes are brimming with tears as you struggle not to choke, and finally the hot, wet drops spill over and roll down your cheeks from the intense amount of energy it's taking to stay still.

all you can do is focus again on breathing through your nose and swallowing all of his cum that you can. unlike other men you've been with, you're not repulsed by the taste of him, and swallowing would be easy if there weren't so much of it. even when he should be finished he still keeps going, his tip pulsating against your tongue with each spurt.

just when you think you can't hold it any longer, the pressure on your neck suddenly releases and seungcheol uncurls his tail from around your neck. you pull your head away from his cock, gasping and stuttering, and you vaguely register cheol's fingers beneath your chin to support your head, your jaw aching from being held stretched open for so long. 

“mm, there you go. deep breaths, now.”

seungcheol chuckles as if he’s pleased at the sight of you. his tail lifts to wipe the tears from your cheeks, then some of the drool and spit and cum from the corner of your mouth, and you exhale a shallow, shaky breath.

“are you done for tonight? or…” he hums once he's given you a moment to recover, but although his words are kind again, there's no sympathy in his tone. he caresses your cheek gently with his thumb, his crimson red eyes sparkling as he looks down at you.

“… you think you can take more?”

your eyes are heavy and lidded, feeling like all your energy has been zapped from you, but somehow you're still insatiable. there's an itch that you can never quite scratch, feelings that only seungcheol can make you feel, and the promise of that satisfaction is enough to keep you sated and happy for decades.

“more,” you stammer, still catching your breath, but your eyes are fixed on his. “p-please, i can take it.”

cheol's smile widens, revealing his gleaming white teeth, although he'd already known what your answer would be. “oh, i know you can. such an obedient thing you are, always so ready to please and be pleased. you want more, hm?”

you nods quickly as you can manage, your neck still aching a little. that's how he always leaves you: a ruined mess, exhausted and sore, yet you'd still jump on the chance for another round if he offered. and he always does.

before you can blink he flips you onto your back, disappearing almost like magic and reappearing at the end of the bed to kneel between your legs. his thick cock rests against your stomach, still just as hard as before, and the weight of him on top of you already has you shivering with excitement.

“you’ve been such a good girl for me, darling. i think you deserve a little reward for taking my cock so well.” he grins as he traces his fingers down your body, his hands finding your hips as his grip tightens. “you get to take it again.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[greenwitchfromthewoods]

stable. l Joel Miller

Summary: you won't admit what you feel

Warnings: smut (+18) and fluff, but also a little bit of angst ; Ellie appears there; reader feels insecure, mention of pregnancy

A/N: special thanks to @underneath-the-sky-again . thank you for your patience and support, sweetie

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"I don't like it. I really don't like it."

You looked away from Ellie, who was trying on a pair of new clothes, and looked towards Ann. For a few minutes she had been standing in front of the shop window, staring at something on the other side of the street, munching on dried apple slices every now and then.

Ellie needed new clothes, so you went to a place in Jackson where you could trade old and good clothes for new ones. You met Ann on the way and she thought she could see if she could find something for the baby she and Shane were expecting. Meanwhile, she was completely uninterested in clothes for a few minutes.

"What do you mean?" you asked, approaching her and glancing over her shoulder with interest. You understood immediately. "Oh."

"Oh." Ann parroted after you, at which point Hazel's hand squeezed Joel's shoulder and she burst out laughing charmingly. "Hazel really does have a thing for Joel. Maybe she doesn't know that you and he..."

"She recently brought a cake that she made as a thank you to Joel for helping her with some repairs at her house. I opened the door for her."

"And?"

"She asked if I could call him over so she could give it to him personally."

Ann looked at you pointedly. Shane must have told her about the whole situation, but she had noticed it herself as well.

"And what about Joel? Have you talked to him?" she huffed as you rolled your eyes. "What's that supposed to mean? You're together, right? If this situation makes you uncomfortable..."

"It's not like that." You mumbled. "I know Joel. He's loyal and I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt me on purpose. Those are my insecurities." Ann frowned. "What? She's beautiful."

"You too!" she shook her head and sighed "You should do something about it. I know Joel would never... But look how you feel. He's your rock, don't let some chick..."

"Should I put a dead rat on her doormat?"

You and Ann jumped at the sound of Ellie's voice, which you didn't expect at all. The girl fixed her eyes on Joel and Hazel, a sly smile on her face.

"Don't even think about it!" you scolded her and lightly slapped her on the shoulder.

"Why?" Ann laughed, "That's a good idea."

"Don't give her solutions like that." you chuckled "Grown-ups solve problems like that differently."

"I can find a rat like that in an hour." Ellie butted in.

"Oh, and you're acting like an adult?" Ann pointed out your words "You don't tell him how you feel, and it's eating you up inside."

"It's not like that..." you groaned.

"So what about the rat?"

"Ellie, please!" you hissed. "No rats. Let's end this pointless conversation. Did you find what you were looking for?" Ellie showed the pair of clothes in her arms. "Great! We're going home, I promised to help Joel with the stables."

You left the store before either of them could say anything else.

"Will you tell me what's going on?"

"Oh, nothing."

"I can see that." Joel was leaning against the entrance to the stall and watching you brush one of the horses. "Something's bothering you."

You gave him a quick look, he knew it perfectly. He was slowly getting to the point that was unpleasant for you. Since Shane's wedding, you seemed to have something to worry about, even though you tried to hide it. But Joel knew you all too well.

"Is it about Ellie?" he said casually.

"No." You answered without even looking at him.

"So about Tommy?" No. "Maria. Ann. Shane." No, no, no. "Did I do something wrong?" No. "Hazel?"

He must have hit the nail on the head, because you frowned and gave him a nervous look. He really shouldn't have been surprised. Hazel had been around you quite often lately, and although Joel didn't treat her in a special way, he guessed that you might have felt uneasy.

He wasn't blind. He remembered your uncertain expression at the wedding when your dress got stained with juice, or when Hazel visited your house and completely ignored you.

Joel, however, thought that what he felt for you was obvious. Apparently he was wrong. He sighed quietly and entered the booth.

"You know she only wants me to help her, right?" he asked.

You snorted something incomprehensible, he smiled under his breath.

"Sweetie, talk to me. I prefer when things are clear between us."

You put the brush on the shelf and wiped your hands on a cloth.

"I don't like her." you mumbled. "I don't know why... No! I know. I don't like the way she looks at you."

"And how does she look?"

You frowned. "You know perfectly well how she looks at you." His smile only made your blood pressure rise. "Oh, you're awful!"

You threw a rag at him and quickly left the stall. You didn't get far, though, because after a moment Joel's arm wrapped around your waist.

"You know you're really sexy when you're jealous of me?" His voice sounded right next to your ear as he pressed you closer to him.

"I'm not jealous at all!" You growled.

"You are, babe." He pulled you towards the empty stall where you kept the haystacks. "And this is adorable."

He turned you to face him. His dark eyes were fixed on you, and a smile was playing on his lips. If it weren't for the fact that he was teasing you so much at that moment, you could have admitted he was right. His arms held you tightly.

"Let me go, someone might come in here." you said, trying to free yourself from his grip.

"There's no one here but us. It's late." His face came closer to yours, warm breath fanning over your cheek. "Admit it, darling."

"No. I won't boost your ego, Joel."

His lips brushed your neck, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. All the emotions that were swirling inside you were slowly starting to calm down. That's how he affected you.

"Admit it." he whispered again.

"No. Besides..." you took a deep breath. "You stink, Joel."

He chuckled. "You do too, darling." you patted his shoulder, but you couldn't hide your smile. "So? You know that only you matter to me. What we have is big, and I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world."

"Are you sure?"

He looked at you with incredible seriousness. Everything that was unspoken hung between you. A warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushed your lower lip.

"You're my whole life, babe. My everything." he said, and you felt that he really meant it.

"I love you." you replied almost in a whisper, and he smiled gently.

"I know."

And before you could say anything more, he kissed you, tenderly and with feeling. In one kiss, there was everything that neither of you said, but felt. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss and completely surrendered to the moment. 

Suddenly, you felt a haystack behind you and after a moment you were lying on it. Joel's hands slid under your shirt, wandering over your heated body. He kissed your jaw, your neck and went lower. The colossal hand squeezed your breast, and you felt the excitement growing in your belly.

"Damn, Joel..." you whispered "Someone might find us here."

"I don't care." he replied and started to unbutton your pants "I want you. Now."

The last rational thoughts flew out of your head. You hastily unbuckled his belt, the bulge in his jeans was very visible and as soon as you slid them down his manhood appeared in front of you in all its glory. Joel wanted to take off your pants, but he only managed to do it with one leg.

"Leave it." you hurried him and pulled him to you, kissing him deeply. "Yes, I was jealous. So fucking jealous of you."

"I knew it." he smiled, his fingers sliding over your folds. "But I'm only yours. Remember."

You nodded, then sighed as he slid inside you with one hard thrust. No matter how many times you made love with Joel, this moment always took your breath away. Your body accepted him willingly, and your legs knew exactly how to wrap around his hips to make him go even deeper.

"Fuck." Joel moaned right into your ear. "You're amazing, fucking amazing." 

You didn't answer. You couldn't. His movements were fast, strong, and violent. As if he wanted to show you that all he wanted was you and no one else in the world mattered.

Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, the silence filled only with your quick breaths, the sounds of skin slapping against skin. A strong hand grabbed your butt and lifted your hips a little, a sweet moan escaped your throat. The new angle made Joel roll exactly where you needed him.

"Only you... Only you, baby..." he whispered in your ear with ragged breaths, and you believed every word he said.

And when you left the stable together, even the rain that was falling didn't bother you then. Your clothes got soaked through, but you didn't care. The hand that held you was your anchor, your safe haven. Whatever happened to you, you knew you would overcome it together. You were his, Joel was yours. It just had to be that way.

"What's so funny to you?" Ellie mumbled, who was curled up on the couch and looked up from her comic book in surprise.

"It's raining." Joel replied, taking off his wet jacket.

"And?" the girl raised her eyebrows "You hate the rain. Damn! You're getting weird in your old age." Her gaze shifted to you, you were trying to take off your wet shoes and not fall over "Do you have hay in your hair?"

☆☆☆☆

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