#But I guess I had been biting my tongue for too long and the ramble just came out...

[thyandrawrites]

Being fully honest Dabi coming to Endv after being ignored yet again doesn't change the fact that he has been ignored yet again. Even now endv has his eyes on afo and I can't see it changing

Nah, I get that. I feel the same. To be honest I see this as another set up for failure. So far the heroes have consistently been making the wrong choices and letting things escalate instead of trying better ways of facing their opponents.

I didn't wanna say it in case I jinxed it with my prediction, but if we are to take Hawks and Mic's reactions as the standard for how the old gen will continue to act moving forward, then I'm expecting Enji to be much the same. He's gonna fight Touya like a villain who's too far gone. Possibly he'll even echo his colleagues and try to protect Touya's idealized memory by killing the man his son has become.

I might be wrong about this of course... But looking back at Enji's internal narration during the Central Hospital chapters and his thoughts as he fought AFO... He's still nowhere near recognizing that Dabi and Touya are the same person.

Remember this line?

Well, here's some translation trivia. In japanese he's only calling him a mass murderer (大量殺人者). The only reason why we know that he's even talking about Touya and not any other PLF villain is because the furigana (the little reading on the right of the aforementioned kanji string above) tells us he's referring to his son (むすこ). Stuff like this is hard to translate because English doesn't have an organic way to do the same kind of word play, so the only way to get across both definitions is to include them both in the line itself, like the character is uttering them at once. The famous "a dance with your son, here in hell" was another example of Hori using furigana that doesn't match with the kanji they're paired with, to get across a double meaning. But for the sake of understanding Enji's mentality, I'd like to stress that he sees Dabi first and foremost as a "mass murderer". Only incidentally, like an afterthought, as his son. You'll also notice how in that same scene he's thinking about "fighting him". Not reuniting, not seeing how he's doing. Fighting. Like he would any other villain, because to him this is still a matter to be tackled as a hero and not a father.

Point is, Enji still doesn't fully recognize Touya in Dabi.

This is how he pictures him in his mind's eye. This is not by far a flattering image. For all that Enji says that he recognizes the wrongs he did to Touya, the image he conjures when he thinks of him is not that of a man falling apart from the weight of unaddressed trauma and desperation. He sees a monster, grinning maniacally, reveling in Enji's anguish with sadistic glee. This is not the son he abused, over and over, until he had an emotional breakdown and lost himself. This is Enji picturing an enemy, someone not to feel any sympathy for. Someone whose most prominent feature is his creepy grinning mouth, open wide as if ready to devour everything Enji's been working for all these years.

Even in his thoughts, he keeps referring to Dabi as an abstract evil rather than a person:

He's the physical manifestation of Enji's "mistakes", not his son. Not the boy he said he missed so dearly he hoped he could get a second chance with.

Touya is Othered as an abstract being, the sum of every flaw Enji possesses but never wanted to acknowledge.

Now compare that to how he saw Touya as an idealized martyr:

Here Touya is remembered as a good kid, not through the distorted lenses above, because up until this moment he's still a "good victim". Someone who died before he could become an obstacle, and as such still someone who Enji treats with humanity. He brings offer to his altar and manifests "regret" over his premature death, because this Touya is easy to mourn. After all, with Touya gone, who's gonna complain about Enji using his memory as a justification for the continued abuse of Shouto and the rest of the family?

Certainly not Touya. The dead are the perfect people to idealize because they can no longer fight for their rights as a living person would. And Enji clearly knows this. He obviously ignores how training Shouto and punching him so hard he pukes goes directly against everything Touya ever wanted because Touya's wishes are simply no longer part of the equation. Touya is no longer a person but just a a cause that Enji needs to honor (arbitrarily, and with even more abuse than before).

But when Touya comes back, and suddenly he's a person with agency once again and not just an idealized memory anymore...

Suddenly, he becomes "a mass murderer".

So... No, I'm not really expecting Enji to turn around and act like a good dad just because Dabi showed up. As you said, Dabi chasing him down doesn't make Enji any less neglectful or any less at fault, and if Horikoshi knows what he's doing, he's probably about to make him do something extremely uncalled for and totally catered to himself, as Enji's actions so far have only been shielding his own ego from any genuine remorse

[bruisedboys]

can I request eddie and shy!reader with reader’s first kiss?! I imagine he’d be so gentle with her!

I want him to be my first kiss so bad!! waiting for him to be real so he can kiss me tbh

summary: eddie gives shy!you your first kiss

shy!fem!reader 0.9k words

Eddie thinks you look really pretty.

He’d tell you so but he’s already told you twice tonight, and he’s pretty sure if he says it again you’ll burst into flames on the spot. You’re quite shy — it’s endearing and very adorable but it also means Eddie has to be more careful of what he says and does. He wouldn’t want to scare you off.

He watches you pore over a book, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He badly wants to tell you how lovely you look. In a t-shirt that’s too big for you and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair all messy pretty and tucked behind your ears. He holds his tongue, turning back to the old band tee he’s hacking the sleeves off on his bedroom floor.

“Eddie?”

Your voice breaks the comfortable silence you and Eddie had been sitting in. Eddie puts down his scissors and looks up. He likes the way you’ve said his name, like he’s the only person ever. He’s sure he sounds similar when he says your name. He smiles at you.

“Yeah?”

You shuffle forwards on his bed, sliding to the edge until your legs dangle off. Eddie’s struck, yet again, by how beautiful you are. It takes all the breath out of his chest.

“Um.” You pause then, and get this nervous look on your face. Eddie knows it well. You’re often nervous around him.

He sits up straighter. By the looks of it you’re wanting to tell him something. Or ask him something. “Yeah, honey?”

Your eyes flick to Eddie and then back to your hands where they’re twisted in your lap. Eddie sees the tap tap tap of your foot, the wringing of your hands. He shuffles forward on the floor and gets a hand on your knee, fingers curling around the bottom of your thigh.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

When you answer your staring at your lap, determined to avoid Eddie’s eyes.

“Well … I just. I was reading that part in The Princess Bride, the bit about the five kisses? And I just wondering …” You reach up and scrub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

Eddie balks. He was not expecting that. It’s a big question — for you to ask and for Eddie to answer. He has his own reasons. The biggest one being he’s afraid to scare you off, to mess up maybe the best thing in his life right now. Not only that, but he knows how tentative you are about relationship stuff. It’s all new to you.

The silence stretches too long. Eddie rushes to break it before you think he’s gone and backed out on you.

“Oh.” He says, more flustered than he’s ever been with you. Normally you’re the flustered one. He’s realising now how hard it is being on the receiving end. “Well, um. I … I guess—“

“Do you not want to?” You ask quietly, interrupting Eddie’s rambling.

Eddie stops short. “What?” He stares up at you. He can hardly believe you think that. Of course he wants to kiss you — he’d kind of thought you wouldn’t want him to. “No. No, sweetheart, that’s not it. I just. Well, I just wanted to wait until you were ready … “ He pauses, catches the look on your face, like you’re waiting for something to happen. “Are you ready?”

You bite your lip. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders what it would be like to kiss your lips. You nod very slowly.

“I think so,” you say. You’re staring at his mouth now.

Eddie nods so quick he almost snaps his neck. He hardly cares.

“Okay,” he says earnestly. He scrambles to his feet and then moves to stand in front of you, your knees pressing into his legs.

You blink up at him. Eddie can’t resist taking your face in his hands. Your skin is hot to touch. He imagines his face would feel the same.

“You’re really pretty,” he says despite himself. Even though he’d promised not to tell you again until at least tomorrow.

“Eddie,” you chide softly.

Eddie just grins. “Are you sure you want to?” He asks you, struggling to hear himself over the thump of his heart in his ears. He very much wants to give you a Princess Bride worthy kiss right now.

You nod around his hands. “I’m sure,” you say.

Eddie leans in then. His hands on your face, pulling you gently towards him. His eyelids fluttering shut. It feels different but it feels right. He’s about half a second away from kissing you when you say,

“Wait.”

Eddie opens his eyes. You’re so close he could count your eyelashes.

“What?” He whispers back.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you say. Your breath fans over Eddie’s mouth, your lips ghosting over his. It takes all his might not to kiss you right then and there. “I don’t know how,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” Eddie tells you. It is okay. And he’s maybe a lot more honoured than he should be that he’s gonna be your first kiss. “You’ll learn.”

“You’ll teach me?”

Eddie looks at you and thinks yeah, he’ll teach you. He’ll do literally anything you could ever ask of him. “Of course, angel.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile and Eddie thinks if he doesn’t kiss you now he might pass out.

He kisses you. He doesn’t pass out but he comes pretty close.

-

[luckycharms1701]

Mikey seems a bit nervous, you think as you gaze over your hot chocolate at him.

It is Valentine’s Day, and the sweetest boyfriend in the world invited you to a rooftop picnic. You were a little skeptical, as it is A Little Chilly, but he insisted that he had it all covered. “It’s gonna be a full moon, Angelcakes,” he wheedled, “It’ll be beautiful, like you! AND we’ll be the only ones around!”

Unfortunately for you, his puppy eyes are your greatest weakness, and he knows when to use them.

You were quite pleasantly surprised to discover that you felt warm when you stepped out onto your rooftop. Mikey had jury-rigged a blanket to hang over a corner, and he had a heater near the entrance going full blast. The corner was covered in blankets and pillows and looked super cozy, and there was still a good view of the eastern sky so you could see the moon come up.

Mikey had helped you get comfortable, then handed you hot chocolate. You smiled when you looked around and saw all your favorites. Your peck on the cheek was greeted with a blush from your boyfriend as he sat down next to you and started serving you food.

You had to admit that Mikey was right as you both ate and watched the moon rise. It was a gorgeous sight, huge in a way you rarely get to see. “Almost as big as my love for you!” Mikey had proclaimed. You had told him to stop with a laugh, but your blush and the way you leaned into him gave you away. He had long since sussed out that you thought his cheesiness was sweet.

Now, Mikey is pulling out yet another container. “I couldn’t possibly eat more Mikey,” you protest. “You’ve spoiled me rotten and I’m fu-”

Once you see what Mikey has in the container, you are struck speechless with delight and awe. He has brought you Valentine’s chocolate. You could tell by the slight wonkiness that they are homemade, and you feel tears well in your eyes.

Next to the chocolates are some cookies, and your breath catches as you realize that they are the kind you made together on your first date, a spontaneous baking spree that had ended with the kitchen covered in flour and you and Mikey covered in kisses. The tears in your eyes start to fall.

“Aw babe,” Mikey says, juggling the container as he reaches out to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You grab his hand and press a kiss to each finger, then hold his hand to your cheek as you gaze into his warm blue eyes.

He sets the container down, eyes not leaving yours as his other hand comes up. You grab that one as well as he frames your face. He bites his lip, and you realize that you are about to discover why he is so nervous.

“I have a question,” Mikey starts hesitantly, and you nod and smile in encouragement. Surely he knows that he can ask anything of you. You agreed to a rooftop picnic on Valentine’s Day in New York City, for heaven’s sake.

His tongue wets his lips as he lowers his eyes and opens his mouth. “Ever since we moved into the new lair, there’s been a lot more space, you know? I mean, we each have multiple rooms. And I guess it gets kind of lonely sometimes, you know?”

His fingers tap against the fresh tears on your cheeks. You don’t think he realizes that the tears are there, or that you know what he’s getting at. You curl your lips into your teeth to prevent your response from bursting out, wanting to let him ask the question first.

“So, I thought that maybe, if you, you know… were cool with it or whatever… if you maybe wanted to think about moving in?”

Your eyes close and you smile as he continues to ramble. “I mean! I know it’s not the best accommodations, but we all love you, and it would be nice if maybe we could all spend more time together, and maybe we could sleep together more often! Although if you want your own room instead that’s cool too! Whatever my angel wants she gets.”

You reach out and put a hand to his lips before he can ramble any further. He looks up, startling at the fresh tears on your face and the beatific smile on your face.

“Mikey,” you have to pause for a moment as your happiness overwhelms you, “I would love nothing more than to move in with you.”

It is as if the sun has risen, here in your little rooftop corner with Mikey, as he smiles back at you.

[jackiebrackettt]

ermmm hello i am here for writing prompt what about this :

late night conversation between gill and chip, maybe about how gill wears his heart on his sleeve and chip both admires that about him and think its stupid, wishes he was more like him but also knows he couldnt get away with it cuz hes not gill, just has a lot of conflicting emotions about gillion and doesnt like how vulnerable that makes him feel. something like that.

(Prefacing this with i haven’t been caught up on riptide for a while now so this is ambiguously set somewhereeee around whatever era you think it works best thumbs up emoji)

Chip can’t sleep. An annoyingly more frequent occurrence he’s been dealing with. And he knows that lying there will probably be better for him in the long run—at the very least, no one will ask him questions about why he’s awake in the middle of the night—but he drags himself out of bed, anyway.

He’s antsy. His legs aching like they need to move. So, he does.

He heads to the kitchen first. Picks up a snack to entertain himself with while he mopes around on deck. Maybe he’ll go to the crow’s nest, and stare out at the sea—try to spot their next destination, even though it’s far from being in eyesight. Or maybe he’ll climb out to sit on the figurehead. Dangle his legs over the water.

Or—

Or maybe, he’ll go talk to Gillion. Who’s leaning against the railing, staring down at the waves below them. Huh.

“Hey, Gill.” He keeps his voice quiet, and decides not to comment on the way Gillion makes an aborted movement to reach for his sword. “Couldn’t sleep, either, huh?”

“I suppose so.” Gillion sighs.

“So,” Chip sits up on the railing, and takes a bite of his snack, “what’s got you up?”

“Just… thinking.” Gillion shrugs. “You?”

“Oh, I was just hungry.” Chip lies. And, well, he didn’t actually consider it a lie until he realised he was saying it to Gillion. “I mean… I dunno. Just felt like I had to move. And why not grab a midnight snack, huh?”

“True,” Gillion sighs again, “very true.”

“Do you, uh, want some?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“There’s not much to talk about. I think…” Gillion hesitates. “I think I’d rather talk about nicer things now, you know?”

“Yeah, sure, I can do nice.” Chip wracks his brain for anything light-hearted. “It was, uh, sweet how you bought that kid that book back at port. Or, well, used my money to buy it.”

“Thank you.” Gillion smiles, but it’s a tired thing. “The ability to learn is a great thing. I wouldn’t want to bar anyone from that if I can help it.”

“Yeah, yeah, always the hero.” But even as he rolls his eyes, it comes out much more fond than he’d want. “Someone’s going to exploit you for that, you know? Well, again.”

“Maybe.” Gill’s eyes catch his now, and something nervous scrambles around in his chest. “But it’s worth it.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Chip darts his eyes away, and coughs. “It’s—it’s good. Yeah. And even though I think it’s kind of stupid! I… I do admire you for it… I guess.”

“Thank you, Chip.” The smile on his face is a little more lively now. “And, you know, since you’re well versed in scamming people, maybe you can help me notice the difference.”

“Oh, I’ll try.” Chip promises, with a false bravado. “But once you’re on the path of honour, and doing good it’s, like, impossible to drag you off it, man.”

“Well, I promise I’ll listen to you.” Gillion rests his hand on Chip’s knee, and despite the coolness of his skin making its way through Chip’s pants, he feels warm. “I know you like doing good, too.”

“Well, I don’t know about—I mean, I’d like to, but—” Chip bites his tongue—trying to stop the meaningless rambling so he can gather his thoughts. “Well, I’m not you. I don’t do all that… hero crap.”

“Oh, don’t say that! You’ve helped a lot of people, Chip!”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

Gillion laughs a little. Squeezes his knee, before withdrawing. Chip kind of misses the touch.

For a moment, they both lapse into silence. Thoughts swirl around Chip’s mind, none of which he’s particularly interested in entertaining.

He finishes his snack, and claps Gill’s shoulder.

“C’mon.” He jumps back onto the deck. “Let’s go try and sleep, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Gillion sends him another smile that he has to look away from. Too much for the complicated tornado spinning through his brain right now.

He remembers when he wanted to get Gill to laugh at one of his jokes. Properly laugh. He used to think Gill was so uptight.

But kindness, and all the associated emotions come easy to Gill in a way they don’t come to Chip. And maybe he’s a little jealous of how easily Gillion can express his love for his crew without wrapping it up in anything else.

They say goodnight to each other. Chip checks on Jay, but she seems to be sleeping fine—didn’t even wake up when their conversation drifted closer to her.

And Chip tries to fall asleep.

[defectivehero]

I love it when the villain is hurt over the fact that the hero could even think for a minute that villain would actually kill them. Villain getting mad or hurt is funny to me as what else is HERO SUPPOSED TO THINK 😭😭

Anyways would be great if you wrote smth on this trope later. Where the villain is obliviously in love and shit and hero thinks villain is waiting to finally kill them. You could make it mlm if you wanted ;))

i love that too! and omg i let out the most evil cackle after i reading this. mlm? y'all know me so well. mwAHAHAH.... also!! Kit is the hero.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Kit murmurs, trying to push the villain away in a rather pathetic attempt at increasing the distance between them. The villain just raises an eyebrow, his grip tightening on the hero’s collar. 

“Excuse me?” His enemy’s touch burns and itches, sending a wave of fear, hurt, confusion, annoyance at Kit. The hero pauses to take a breath, feeling suddenly robbed of oxygen. 

“Final words...” Kit continues, readjusting slightly from where he’s pushed up against the wall. “I never got the chance to think about this. You’ll be sorry? No, that’s cliché.” He’s about to nosedive straight into nervous rambling when a voice interrupts him.

“What?” his enemy repeats, squinting at the hero. He almost looks confused, Kit notices. In fact, he’s certain the villain has never been this inarticulate before. The villain’s fingers move from Kit’s collar to dig into his shoulder blades, a strange juxtaposition to the frown on his face. 

“My final words,” the hero remembers to respond. “Speaking of- why is this taking so long?” Kit looks over at the villain, wondering where he’s concealing his weapon. Dagger in the boot? That’s a classic. Maybe a knife in his pant leg? 

“Why is what taking so long?” the villain bites out. His gaze sears into the hero’s skin. Kit tries to push him away again, but it doesn’t work. His enemy shakes him by the shoulders briefly, as if emphasizing the need for an answer.

“You know, the killing part,” Kit replies snappily, starting to lose some of his patience. His enemy raises an eyebrow, as if questioning the statement. “Killing me.” He hadn’t thought clarification to be necessary, but apparently it is. After all, the villain is particularly slow on the uptake today.

“You think I’m going to kill you.” A tense silence settles in the air, pushing Kit’s shoulders down and his back to the wall. Everything seems sharp and blurred all at once. He’s not sure he wants to dissect the look on his enemy’s face. 

“Just hurry up,” Kit hisses instead, grabbing the dagger he had entirely forgotten about from his belt. He holds it out to the villain, who simply stares at him. Rolling his eyes, Kit grabs his enemy’s fist, forcing it open and placing the dagger in his hand. “This is what you want, right?” 

“No.” Kit squints at the villain. Is this some sort of test? If it is, he has a feeling that he’s failing miserably. His heartbeat is pulsing in his ears and thrumming under his skin. Even so, his mind is filled with a startling clarity. Before he can quite think about what he’s doing, Kit’s hand is guiding his enemy’s hand and, subsequently, the dagger, to rest against his own neck. His fingers tremble against his enemy’s hand. 

For a long moment, the hero and villain are still. The hero remains against the wall, his own dagger in his enemy’s hand. The villain’s hand is pointed at the hero’s neck, but not of his own volition. 

“I don’t want to kill you,” his enemy eventually murmurs, with eyes that look so unbearably conflicted that it makes Kit nauseous. His enemy tugs at their joined hands and the dagger clatters to the floor, sending a hollow yet loud sound through the hero’s ears. Kit stares at the discarded weapon. For a moment, it glints at him mockingly. Questions sit heavily on the tip of his tongue, yet somehow he can’t ask them. His enemy must sense his confusion anyways, because he gestures in annoyance. 

“I tire of this,” the villain states, taking a step backwards and folding his hands behind his back. He has hesitance and resistance painted all over him- in the uncertain look in his eyes, the downward pull to his lips. Irritation seeps into the villain’s frame soon after, turning his folded hands to shaking, clutched fists. Every hint of reluctance is washed over by tight defensiveness. “Leave.”

“But, you’re the one that called me here-”

“Go.”

The villain’s eyes glow crimson for the briefest of moments. Kit desperately wants to argue, but his enemy clearly isn’t up for conversation or explanation. The hero bites his lip, staring at the villain for one long moment, before turning on his heel and walking away. 

©2022, @defectivehero All Rights Reserved. 

part two

I like how confusing the villain is. Confusing villains are the best. Also, I know getting backed up against a wall is such a stereotypical trope but it’s just too good for me to pass up. [I HAD TO.]

[Also, Kit... Any Kit Herondale stans...? Sobs. I love Kit Herondale. I didn’t name the hero after him or anything, but they share the same name, so... Yuh.]

Thank you for reading!

[ugh-yoongi]

Hi dear author,

I'm writing this long-ass message, primarily, to send you some love and appreciation. I've been a reader of your works, not for too long, I'm sorry, I'm new to the world of BTS ff. Been here maybe a year? Yeah. So I found you some time back, and in the months since, have practically read and loved everything I've been able to consume.

I know you have so many beloved fics. And I've loved too many of them as well. But I'd like to bring your attention to BTTIFOWIW. The angst, the way you wrote Yoongi, and oc. You have a keen eye, thank you for gifting us, your readers and followers, with this beautiful piece.

Firstly, Yoon fics are few and far between. Everyone and their mother writes and reads and likes fics for kook, which is completely fine, but it leaves Yoon fics in a bit of a corner, with quality and quantity.

Which brings me to secondly, most writers write Yoon in a certain box. An insincere box. Now I know none of us know what he's actually like. Ik ik. But purely subjectively speaking, there's a certain way I view him. And you did an immaculate job with how you wrote it. At least, it tugged at my heart.

Lastly, I guess I'd be remiss if I didn't mention this main reason why I loved the fic as much. You wrote the story, just as I would have. The characters, Yoon's and OC's. The language. The responses to stimuli. The quips about an all knowing therapist who knows when to bite his tongue and his all knowing smile. OC's tears during the first intimate scene of the story. And Yoon's. Everything. I'm not trying to placate you, and I'm not saying everything is perfect. I'm saying it touched me. I'm saying Thank You. I'm not a writer here, I guess I don't have the balls to write here. Or the fact that I know how self-critically I am. But I've been a writer outside irl for all my life. So it touched me to read something I felt spoke my language and writing style. The effort, emotions and time you spent on this is not going unnoticed, at least by me. And I know I'm no one. Just, wanted to send you some love.

I've had a particularly disgusting year in 2023, and it's not eased up as yet. So I appreciate the escapism your words continue to provide me with.

Thank you for the stories.

Lots of love,

🎈

(I connect a lot with this red balloon. You can assume it's filled with a lot of positivity I'm sending your way! And no, I'm not sending you this signature to stay anonymous. I have anonymity through this account. I just prefer ending messages with this red balloon.)

first, thank you so much for sending me this. it was so lovely and so kind, and a really nice thing to wake up to.

i'm going to respond under a cut bc i'm sure this will get ramble-y. <3

thank you for finding me, and i'm very glad you've enjoyed the work of mine you've read thus far!

it's interesting what you're seeing as someone new to bts fanfiction. i feel like most fics these days are either yoongi or jk, and speaking anecdotally, my yoongi fics are always the ones that get the most engagement. (aside from awfos, that one is an outlier and i still can't really believe it.)

i tend to agree with you re: characterization. i think all the members sort of get pigeon-holed into certain tropes/roles, but (for me, at least) i find yoongi to be the most... versatile? a blank slate? i think it's because he's so calm in what we see of him. it's easy to sort of project onto him who you think he is, for better or worse.

bttifowiw would not have worked with any other member for this reason, i think.

i also think we're able to write those sorts of characters and connect with them because they're similar to us, and there's so much of me in both the leads in that story. there's so much of my husband and my story and also a lot of nonsense and fiction, but it had to be yoongi.

anyway. thank you for reading it. that story is so important to me because it's so personal, but it's for that same reason that i'm a little terrified every time someone does engage with it, so it means a lot to me to hear you connected with it in some way.

i'm sorry to hear about your 2023. i am sending you all the good vibes that 2024 gets easier for you and some of your burdens begin to ease. it's really hard to exist right now, and i am sending you a lot of love. hang in there. <3

[harryconcepts]

part 25

frat harry who always has his eyes on you because he has a crush he just doesn't know how to tell you or make a move 😌 you don't think he sees you that way, because he's never made a move or anything so you just do your own thing and have fun at parties, even though you're a little sad you're not with him... then one night you're both at a party and he's been watching you alllll night, he hasn't been drinking or anything because he wants to make sure you're okay, and after a few hours of moping around he finally comes up to you 😌 you're off to the side in the kitchen looking kind of tired and over it so he stands next to you, leaning in a little and saying "do you want to get out of here?" and you look at him so surprised, he's quick to say "not in that way- I just meant, maybe we could go get some food or something? no pressure if you don't want to, you just look like maybe you're not having the best time here and i-" and you cut off his nervous rambling to say "i would really like that" and he smiles in relief, holding out his arm for you and leading you out the door like a gentleman 😔 he opens his car door for you and hooks up his phone to play some music softly, then he pulls out of the driveway and asks where you want to go 😔 you end up at some random fast food place and he pulls out your chair, making you laugh at how cordial he's being 😔 he runs up to the counter to grab your food for you, then he's looking at the table asking if you need anything else and you smile, shaking your head and saying you're all good 😔 after a few minutes you say "i always thought you didn't like me" and he looks up, his eyebrows furrowed and he says "why would you think that?" and you shrug, stirring your drink a little as you say "i don't know, you just never talked to me or anything, I thought maybe i annoyed you or something" and he's shaking his head right away, he leans closer to look in your eyes when he says "you could never annoy me... the reason i didn't talk to you was because i was too nervous" and he's blushing so much and he looks down when he says those last few words, you reach across the table and grab his hand saying "i was a little nervous to talk to you too" and he smiles, rubbing his thumb over your hand and he says "guess neither of us had anything to be nervous about, huh?" and you blush, shaking your head and reaching for a fry, you hold it up to his lips and he pretends to bite at your fingers 😔 then you talk for at least another hour, and when you're ready to go home he drives you, holding your hand the whole way 😔 you end up inviting him in because you're not ready to stop talking to him, and maybe you do a little kissing in bed but he stops it before it goes too far, saying "I've had a crush on you for so long, and i really like you- and this isn't me rejecting you! I really like you, I just don't want to move too fast or-" and you cut off his rambling again, smiling and saying "it's okay, I get what you're saying... and i really appreciate you for being so respectful" and you kiss his nose 😔 then you say "I wouldn't mind if you stayed over, i think it might be nice to cuddle with you" and he smiles so big, pulling you into his arms and kissing your cheek 😔

harry loves leaving bruises and hickies to look at the next day 😌 he runs his fingers gently over the spot, smiling when you shiver at the memory of how he put it there 😌 he's so possessive and he likes having his marks left on you for only him to see 😌

harry looooves the way you smell, and he pretends to act annoyed when you steal his clothes but secretly he loves it because you return them smelling like you 🥹and after you stay the night at his house he wants to stay in bed all day because everything smells like you 🥹

"taste yourself on my tongue" he loves kissing you after he goes down on you saying "you're so fucking sweet baby, have a taste" 😵‍💫

bsf harry getting sooo drunk at a party and when you find him he's all pouty because he didn't know where you were 😔 he's clinging onto you and he says "i just think you're cool" burying his face in your neck while he hugs you from behind 😔 you laugh and say "thank you harry" and he sighs saying "do you think I'm cool too?" and you reach back to run your fingers through his hair because you know he loves it and you say "I think you're the coolest" and you can feel him smile against your skin 😔

naur bc harry thinking it's 100% absolutely unacceptable that you've had sex before where the guy didn't make you cum 😵‍💫he says "I'm so sorry baby, that's not right" and you shrug saying it's not that big of a deal, but he says "it is a big deal, and it's not okay" then every time you have sex he makes sure you cum, usually more than once 😵‍💫

harry noticing you've been a little off lately and he doesn't know how to bring it up but he just can't watch it anymore, he sees how you're smiling less and sleeping a lot later and just don't seem like yourself so one morning he brings you breakfast in bed a few hours after he wakes up, sets the tray with toast and your favorite jelly and a nice cup of tea on the side table, he climbs into bed and he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close saying "I need you to talk to me" and you don't respond, you just snuggle a little closer to him and let out a big sigh 😔after a few minutes he knows you're not going to respond so he says "I don't know what's going on, but I hate to see my girl so sad and I want to do everything I can to fix it" pressing a few kisses to your head 😔 after a while of listening to his steady breathing you finally whisper "I don't know" and he's so happy to hear you say something but he's so upset at how sad you sound 😔 he says "that's okay... you don't have to have all the answers right now, I don't always know how I'm feeling either" and pulls you impossibly closer😔 then he says "but I do know that it's hard to start feeling better when you're not eating enough, so will you eat some breakfast for me?" and you nod, shuffling to sit up and he puts the tray on your lap 😔 he's smiling so big when you take some sips and he says "you know how much I love you, hmm? just want to help you feel better" 😔

hooking up with frat harry for the first time and he's been into you for so long but you've rejected him a few times because he kind of has a fuckboy reputation but he's been trying so hard to change that because he liiiiiikes you 😌 so when you finally get together it's absolutely filthy and feral, you wrap your legs around his waist and whisper in his ear "want you to fuck me like you paid me" and he groans so loud and drops his head to rest in your neck saying "you're gonna kill me, such a filthy little mouth" 😌

this is so fucking hot for no reason he does so much research to make sure it's safe and only causing you pleasure and nothing else 😵‍💫 and when you have a conversation he's being very serious and making you look at him so he knows you understand, saying "i know sometimes you don't like to tell me how you're feeling,but I'm telling you right now I will not fuck around with your safety so i need you to promise that you'll be open and tell me the second something stops feeling good" and he doesn't relax until you promise him 😵‍💫 then he rests his hand on your throat gently, not squeezing yet just using his light grip to pull you in for a kiss😵‍💫 then he murmurs "such a good girl for me" kissing you again 😵‍💫

harry would be suuuuuch a tease when he knows you want something, he acts oblivious to your subtle hints that you want him to touch you and he won't do anything until you finally ask him 😵‍💫 he likes seeing you all desperate and worked up because he knows you'll do anything he wants when you're like that 😵‍💫

Harry's cover of wet dream is making me want to jump off a cliff...... imagine making him jealous on purpose to get him mad because it's hot when he manhandles you 😵‍💫 the line "what makes you think you're good enough to think about me when you're touching yourself" is him pinning your hands above your head because you had tried to reach down and touch yourself, he gets so close to your face and whispers "you don't deserve to do that, you've been such a brat and I know you're doing it on purpose to piss me off" and he reaches over to grab one of his scarfs so he can tie your hands up 😵‍💫 once you're all spread out for him he says "you want to make me mad? you want me to be mean? I can be very fucking mean" 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

harry would beggggg you to come to a yoga class with him, you're not really excited but he's asking so sweetly so finally you agree and he's so happy 😭 he carries your mat for you and the whole time he's saying how much you're going to love it and how fun it's going to be, then the whole time you kind of hate it because it's harder than you expected and he's so annoyingly good at everything meanwhile you're struggling 😭 then after you're a little grumpy with him, being all "now my arms are tired 😠" and he laughs kissing your cheek and he says "I'm sorry baby, why don't we go get some coffee" and you agree because you're never going to say no to that 😭 then the next day you wake up and you're sooo sore from working muscles you're not used to working and you're even more grumpy with him, you're moving around trying to get comfortable which wakes him up, he puts his arms around you burying his face in your neck and he says "good morning baby" and you pout saying "no it isn't, my arms and legs and everything else hurts" and he's trying so hard not to laugh, he says "I'm sorry, why don't I make you feel better?" and sneaks his hand down your body, you huff and say "I'm too sore to do anything" and he smiles saying "you don't have to do anything, just lay back and let me do all the work" and ofc you aren't going to say no to him when he puts it like that😌

Harry's been really busy with work for the past few weeks, so the two of you haven't had any time to yourselves, and you don't ever want to push him into anything when he's not feeling up to it but then one night you're just so frustrated and worked up you can't handle it any more so you go into his office, hugging him from behind while he's sitting at his desk and you just outright say "it's been 3 weeks since we've had sex" and you can feel him freeze, his voice is a bit strained when he says "sorry?" and you roll your eyes saying "you heard me, it's been 3 weeks... I can't handle this anymore, so I'm going to go get my vibrator, and I'd very much like it if you joined me... but you'd better hurry or i might just start without you" and you kiss his jaw before you stand up and walk out 😌 you don't even make it three steps before he's scrambling to follow you 😌

him looking up at you when he pulls you to sit on his face..... he grabs your thighs and he's pulling you down to sit all your weight on him, his head tilted back to get the best angle... he literally moans against you because he's so turned on being able to feel you like this...,....... he's about ready to cum in his pants when you let out a breathy little moan and pull on his hair ......

harry going down on you but he's being sooo slow and annoying to get you worked up, kissing around your tummy and hip bones and inner thighs and anywhere he knows is sensitive but not where you really want him 😵‍💫 you keep arching your back to try and get him closer but everytime he moves just out of reach, gripping your sides to hold you still 😵‍💫 finally you say "please, no more teasing, I need you so bad just please" and he smirks against your leg saying "just want to play with you for a while, gonna be a good girl and let me?" and even though you could nearly cry from how frustrated you are you find yourself nodding and tangling your fingers in his hair 😵‍💫

thinking about how harry is into smiley giggly sex... yes he can be serious and mean when the mood calls for it but sometimes he's just a goofball and he's kissing your neck, smiling when you laugh because his hair is tickling you or he's flipping you over so he's on top but it's a little awkward with how fast he tried to do it so you yelp and grab onto him and he can't help but laugh at the shocked look on your face and he goes to kiss you but you have to stop because you're both smiling so hard 🫡🪂 just rolling around together and giggling so much and he would probably blow raspberries on your tummy or tickle you because he loves to hear you laugh more than anything else 🫡🪂

no the bathtub pics are absolutely giving best friend harry with you at a party, maybe the guy you came with ended up being an assole so you grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him to the bathroom and you're in tears so ofc he follows you no questions asked, he sits on the edge of the tub or all the way in it bc he's a weirdo and watches you pacing back and forth talking about how mad you are, he chimes in every few minutes with "he's a prick" and "you're way too good for him" and "fuck him anyways, you're too hot to be crying over someone like him" and you don't even notice the way he's staring at you with so much love in his eyes because all he wants to do is make you feel better 😭then finally you realize he's literally just sitting in the bathtub and you stop your pacing and you look at him and say "why are you in the tub" and he just shrugs and says "seemed comfortable" and you can't help but laugh and say "you're so fucking weird" and he grins, so happy to be the one who can make you smile even when you're feeling shitty 😭 then after a few moments of giggling at how weird this whole situation is, you stop laughing when you realize you're still so sad about what happened earlier and he sees your face drop, he gestures you to come closer so you sit on the edge of the tub 😔 he says "get in here, there's plenty of room" and holds out his hand so you can come sit between his legs 😔 you lean back with your head on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around you, putting his face in your neck and he says "I'm sorry, you don't deserve to be hurt like this" and you sigh, turning your head a little to kiss his arm, its normal for the two of you because you've always been touchy with each other but he can't help but falling in love just a little more in that moment 😔 he says "I hate seeing you get hurt" and then after a few more moments he says "you deserve to be with someone who adores you, and who looks at you like you hung the moon and stars" and you can feel how fast his heart is beating when he whispers "someone like me" and your eyes go wide, you're trying to turn around to look at him but he just tightens his grip on you and says "don't, don't make me look at you when I've embarrassed myself like this" but you're persistent, squirming away and turning around in his lap so you're straddling him, you take his face between your hands and huff out a laugh at how he keeps his eyes squeezed closed, you say "h, look at me please" and finally he does, his eyes are a little bit sad because he thinks he's just ruined your friendship but you can tell he doesn't regret saying it 😔 you're looking right in his eyes when you say "I've loved you since the day we met" and his face shows pure shock for a moment before he sputters out a laugh saying "we're really stupid then, aren't we?" and you nod, he puts his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss 😔

showing up at bestie Harry's house after your bf cheats on you, you don't knock you just let yourself right in and flop down on the couch into his open arms 😔 he doesn't say anything he just strokes your hair and lets you lay there for a few minutes before you let out a big sigh and say "boys suck" and he pouts a little bit saying "ohhh what did he do now" and you tell him all about it while he just keeps stroking your hair and holding you close 😔 when you get everything out and you've been laying on his chest for a while he reaches for his phone and says "pizza or Chinese?" not even asking if you're hungry just wanting to know which you're in the mood for because he knows you so well 😔 he calls to order it, and ofc he has your order memorized so while he's talking you just stay in your spot on his chest and you can feel his voice as he speaks 😔 when he's done he turns on the TV and goes right to your favorite movie, and he doesn't mention it when he feels a few tears fall on his shirt he just pets your hair a little more and lets you cry 😔

harry would sooo get off on you begging him 😵‍💫 you grab his hand and put it around your throat, saying "please, please, want you to do it- just please" and you sound so desperate and fucked out ofc he can't say no 😵‍💫 or when you want him to be a little rougher, you wrap your legs around his waist and whisper "please, need you to fuck me, want you to make it hurt" and he goes feral 😵‍💫

and when you pout he mimicks your face to mock you, he runs his thumb over your lip and says "put that away, good girls don't pout" 😵‍💫 the idea of him pouting back at you, being a little mean because he knows you get off on it, not giving you what you want right away to make sure you know who's in charge is so 🥵

and when he's playing with the straps of your dress trying to pull them down you bat his hands away, rolling your eyes and saying "can you stop being horny for 5 minutes" and he goes "nope, not possible when you're around 😌"

harry looooves to hear you beg and sometimes won't do anything you want until you ask and he thinks you seem needy enough 😵‍💫 he's been edging you for a while and every time you get more whiny until you're starting to tear up and he says "you want to cum that badly? beg me for it then" 😵‍💫

harry is literally such a pest when you've been dating for a while, the two of you are basically like an old married couple who everyone looks up to 😭 he says stuff like "you're a handful, it's a good thing you're so cute" and "yes dear" kissing your hand and running off to get you whatever you asked for 😭

[casspurrjoybell-17]

HEART'S PRICE - CHAPTER 51

*Warning: Adult Content*   

"Hold on, my love," Doctor Ambrose Thorne says. "We're almost there."

He reaches back to stroke Noah Hunter’s Wolf’s fur where he lies on the back seat and as Noah feels the car swerve he wishes he were in human form and could tell Ambrose to keep his eyes on the bloody road. 

At the moment, all he manages is a whine and a soft thump of his tail. 

Ambrose has wrapped Noah in the old blanket he kept back here for Dougal to lie on and he feels he’s come full circle in a bizarre, Mad Hatter's tea party kind of way. 

Noah had run away to Spring Lakes after being hurt by Thomas Flynn and arrived with an injured dog in the back seat of his car, which he'd then taken to a vet, with whom he'd fallen in love with. 

Then he'd been hurt again, run away again, encountered Thomas again and now he was the injured dog and the vet was driving and he was taking him home. 

He'd laugh at the absurdity of it, if he could. 

Instead, Noah closes his eyes, wondering if maybe this time he can stop running. 

Maybe this time he can belong and be loved. 

Maybe this time he can stay.

Ambrose still has a hell of a lot of explaining to do and Noah hasn't forgiven him yet for the pain he's caused him but it's clear he's suffered at least as much as he has for his misguided attempt to keep Noah safe. 

Ambrose keeps talking to Noah as he drives, reaching back to touch him now and then and telling him to stay awake. 

Noah tries but he guesses he drifts off for a bit anyway because the next thing he knows Ambrose is pulling him from the car and lifting him again.

 He's parked near the garage, the door of which he'd left open and he heads for the white work van he uses for mobile vet visits. 

Again, if Noah could laugh, he would. 

Being taken to a vet while in wolf-form is a sort of joke-nightmare among Wolves. 

All sorts of bad things could happen from having your temperature taken to being accidentally euthanized but if there's one vet Noah trusts to take care of him, it's Dr. Ambrose Thorne. 

He struggles a bit to get the back doors of his van open but manages it and then climbs inside, laying Noah on a long, stainless-steel table that folds down from the wall.

"Alright, love, just a bit longer," Ambrose says, smoothing trembling hands over Noah’s face.

Noah trust him but he does hope he gets the shaking under control before he attempts anything too delicate.

"Just a bit longer," he murmurs again and busies himself collecting whatever supplies and things he needs, arranging them around Noah where he lies. "Just have to get that bullet out and then you can Shift and I'll take care of the rest, aye?"

Noah catches sight of the blanket as he pulls it away and sets it aside and sees that it's stained with blood. 

A lot of blood, which explains why he’s so tired and dizzy and cold. 

If only he were like Dane or Freya, he'd be half-healed on his own already, up again and ready to fight. Instead, one tiny bullet, which didn't even hit anything vital and he’s pretty sure he’s bleeding out and in shock.

"This will sting, my love. Just a bit," Ambrose says and Noah smells the tang of some kind of antiseptic as he uncaps a bottle. "Just a bit..."

Noah yelps and whines as Ambrose pours the fluid over the wound, it stings a lot and he holds Noah down with gentle strength.

"Shh-shh-shh... I know, I know. I'm sorry. I don't even know if Wolves can get infections," he mutters. "Just to be safe, though."

Noah relaxes as the pain subsides and listens as Ambrose continues to ramble to himself about forceps and things and then Noah feels his hands on him again.

"This will hurt, love. Try to keep still."

He's not lying this time and Noah bites his tongue in his effort not to thrash with agony as Ambrose probes the wound with something long, sharp and cold. 

Noah’s strength quickly ebbs, though and even as he’s dully aware of the pain, he no longer fights it as he slides towards the dark.

"Shit," Ambrose swears under his breath. "I can't see past the blood. It's too deep and... ah, got it!"

Noah hears something clink in a metal bowl and then feel Ambrose press a wad of bandages hard against the wound.

"Alright, Noah, I got it out. You can Shift now. Shift for me, please," he says. "I've got you, now. Come on."

As Ambrose speaks, he lifts Noah again, carrying him quickly from the van and lying him on the floor of the garage, where there's more room for his longer, if not particularly larger, human shape. 

It's still a risk to Shift with torn flesh but it's a risk he'll have to take. 

With his barely-existent healing ability, if he stays a Wolf he'll probably die anyway.

"Sweetheart, please," Ambrose whispers and Noah realizes from the choke of tears in his voice that he thinks he might not listen to him, that he might choose to let this be his end, to let Thomas win and let his torn heart rest. 

If it wasn't for the pain Noah knows it would cause everyone he loves, he might even be tempted by that dark promise. 

Instead, Noah Shifts, regaining his human shape in Ambrose's arms and hearing his exhalation of pure relief as he does. 

It hurts, though and Noah chokes with pain as his injury tears through something important, feeling his heart stutter and trip in his chest as it struggles and then his vision goes dark. 

The last thing Noah sees is Ambrose, holding him tight and kissing the side of his face and speaking softly in his ear, promising him he'll be alright. 

Noah believes him. 

Even as he falls, Noah knows Ambrose has already caught him and or better or worse  he won't let him go again.

                                                    ~ ☾ ~

Noah comes to on the couch in the sitting room. 

He is lying with his back against Ambrose's chest, his head is resting on his shoulder. 

Ambrose’s arms are around Noah, still holding him tight. 

Taking an experimental breath, Noah finds that nothing hurts and that except for a bit of lingering dizziness and light-headedness, he feels fine. 

He’s covered with a blanket, a soft, fresh one this time and lifts it to inspect his bare chest. 

There's no sign of a wound and Noah’s skin is smooth, clean and unblemished beneath Ambrose's hand. 

Sitting up, Noah twists to look at Ambrose. 

His eyes are closed and he looks like he's sleeping but at Noah’s movement he opens them and gives him a weak, relieved smile.

"Little wolf," Ambrose says, in a whisper that sounds like dried leaves. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Noah answers, frowning at him. 

He looks unwell, his already pale skin tinged with a slightly blue undertone and his hand shakes as he lifts it to touch Noah’s face. 

"What about you?"

"I'll be alright. Just... working through the pain, you know." 

Ambrose shrugs or tries to, wincing and shutting his eyes again as he presses his hand to his chest. 

He looks worse than he did after healing Julian's case of poisoning, although this time he'd looked awful to begin with.

"When was the last time you ate?" Noah asks, noting the gauntness of his face and the way his skin seems to stretch over his muscles a bit more tightly than it had before.

Ambrose’s eyes flick open again and he lifts his gaze to Noah’s. 

"I don't remember," he says. "The morning after we found Brutus, probably. Breakfast, before you left."

"Jeez, Ambrose. That was almost a week ago."

"Was it?"

"Yes. How did you find me, anyway?"

"I'll always find you, my little wolf," Ambrose murmurs, squeezing Noah’s hand and shutting his eyes once more. "A dragon's... treasure..."

"Hey," Noah shakes him by the shoulders. "Don't go passing out on me, you son of a bitch. You're gonna clean yourself up and eat something and then you're gonna tell me what the fuck I or we, by the looks of it, just went through a week of hell for."

Keeping his eyes closed, Ambrose laughs softly and sighs. 

"Ah, little wolf, how I've missed you."

Disregarding Noah’s demand, Ambrose’s hand slips from his and he falls asleep with a smile on his dry, thirst-cracked lips. 

Noah stares at him for a moment, studying his now familiar features, the disarray of his long hair and the line of pain between his even brows and sighs. 

If either Dane or Freya had been watching the house earlier, they'd have seen Ambrose's car leave and Noah’s return and if they're not already freaking out, they will be soon. 

Rising, Noah spots his clothes lying in a pile on a nearby chair, fortunately, Ambrose had scooped them up along with the envelope of photos, which sits atop of Noah’s discarded garments, undisturbed and pulls them on. 

Next, he grabs Ambrose's cell-phone from the side-table, helps himself to his thumb-print and unlocks it. 

Then, after a few deep breaths, he calls Dane.

"Thorne?" Dane Hunter asks, answering on the first ring.

"No... it's me, Dane. Noah."

"Noah? Shit, you're not with that bastard, are you? Because I swear..."

"Dane, shut up and listen for a minute," Noah cuts in. "I'm fine."

Quickly, he relates an abbreviated version of the night's events. 

When he finishes, his brother is quiet for a few beats, then speaks in a low growl.

"I want you to come home, right now," he says. "Do you understand?"

Dane puts his Alpha authority behind the command and Noah braces himself, knowing that even if he manages to resist, it won't be pleasant. 

To his surprise, though, Noah feels nothing. 

It takes him a moment to realize what that means. 

When Noah doesn't answer, Dane repeats himself with even greater force.

"Hey, I said do you understand? Come home."

"I am home, Dane," Noah replies quietly. "I'm with my Mate. Please don't ask me to leave him right now."

"Noah..."

There's a warning in Dane’s tone that says Noah is one wrong word away from him going 'berserk big brother' on him.

"I know, Dane," Noah sighs, looking over at Ambrose where he lies. "Things aren't settled, okay? And I'm not about to forgive him and pretend nothing happened. But I don't think he'd have brought me back here if I was in immediate danger. He saved my life. I don't know what's going on yet, why he kicked me out and tried to cut me off but it's obvious it hasn't been easy on him either. I need to figure this out and if it is a mistake... Well, let me make it, okay?"

Dane is quiet for so long Noah wonders if he's still there.

"Dane?"

"Fine," he says. "Fine. But tomorrow's the full moon, Noah. Whatever Thorne's afraid of is happening soon. So find out what the fuck is going on and... call me in the morning."

Dane sighs and Noah can picture his brother bunching a hand in his hair and pulling at his dread-locks, unhappy,but willing to give Noah what he’s asking for, even if it is just enough rope to hang himself with.

"Okay," Noah agrees, feeling his throat constrict. "You're a good brother, Dane. And a good Alpha. You're... you're gonna have a great Pack, one day. The best. I know it."

"Noah... I swear to God..."

Noah hears him swallow and sniffs back a teary laugh of his own.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. If I break your heart, you'll kill me yourself, right?"

"Yup."

"Okay. Talk to you in a few hours. Bye."

Noah ends the call and stares at the phone for moment, a thin, lemon-twist of a smile on his lips. 

Dane has the makings of a legendary Wolf and Noah hopes he gets to see him grow into that potential. 

At the moment, though, he has more immediate concerns. 

In the kitchen, he finds an almost bare fridge, a sink full of crusty dishes and very little in the way of edible food. 

Finally honing in on a dusty can of chicken soup at the back of a cupboard, he checks the date, pop the lid and heat it up in a pan before plopping it into a bowl and returning to Ambrose in the sitting room. 

It's a far cry from Grace's cooking but for the moment it will have to do. 

Setting the bowl on the side-table, Noah rouses Ambrose with a gentle shake, calling him back to him. 

He wakes, blinking in momentary confusion.

"Hello, Dr. 'Rose Thorne," Noah says, giving him a half smile. "Did I ever tell you that you do good work?"

Ambrose stares up at Noah for a moment, his eyes seeming to glow a brighter red before dimming again to their usual warm brown.

"No," he rasps. "You know, I don't think you have."

"Oh. Well, it's true. You're a handy one to have around, when an animal needs saving. I'm afraid I don't have much money, though, so I hope you won't bill me extra for the emergency surgery."

"I'm sure we can... work something out," he says distractedly and reaches up to pulls down the collar of Noah’s shirt, inspecting his unmarked skin.

"I'm fine, Ambrose," Noah assures him, pushing his hands away. "Here, I made you something to eat."

Noah reaches for the soup but Ambrose catches his hands again and sits up, pulling his lover into a close, soft embrace.

"I don't want it," he says, speaking near my ear. "All I want is this. All I want is you. Just you, little wolf. You're all I need."

Noah lets Ambrose hold him a moment, holding him in return and resting in his warmth. 

After a few breaths, though, Noah pushes him away.

"You had me, Ambrose," Noah tells him, gently. "You had all of me and then you threw that away and shut me out. You hurt me. And so now what I need is for you to eat your soup, take a shower and explain yourself. Then... Well, then maybe once I understand, we can both get what we want. Alright?"

Ambrose meets Noah’s eyes, for once looking entirely sober and serious and he nods.

"Alright, little... Noah. Alright." 

Leaning forward, Ambrose brushes his fingertips along the sides of Noah’s face and touches his lips with the ghost of a kiss, then shuts his eyes and rests his brow against Noah’s brow. 

"Alright."

[emeraldiis]

Pillow Talk

A/N: i will never apologize for being horny on main

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: After an entire day of staring at you in that bikini, Loki is left utterly desperate for release. Good thing he sleeps with a lot of pillows.

Tags: masturbation, phone sex, pillow humping, needy!Loki, pining

Loki shifted on the bed, mashing his face roughly into the satin pillow case. It was nearly dawn, and he hadn’t slept. Even the tiniest hint of sleep had evaded him, and he’d tossed and turned enough to make his muscles ache in protest. With a frustrated growl, he rolled onto his back and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. This was never going to work.

He had no one to blame but himself for his insomnia. Really, it was pathetic, the way his mind had latched onto one silly little human and made her the object of his obsession. You with your silky hair and soft eyes, keeping him up until the morning hours. Your melodic voice rang in his eardrums, and every time he closed his eyes, he’d see that perfect skin of yours and wish it was pressed up against--

With a gasp, Loki swiftly brought his hands down to grasp the sheets in agony. He wished he could blame it on the fact that he hadn’t bed anyone in at least a decade, but he knew himself. Celibacy had never been an issue for him in the past; he wasn’t a teenage boy, he could control his needs. But you had him feeling like one all over again. The way he gawked at you like it was his first time seeing a pair of breasts nearly spill out of a way-too-tight tank top, it was downright shameful. You were just so innocent, so pure, and he longed to see that smile collapse into a pout as you whimpered against his lips.

Despite his best efforts, Loki could feel his cock throb in renewed need. It had been begging for release nearly all night, and Loki had successfully ignored it so far. He held steady in his determination in not giving in, but his resolve was slipping. Today has been especially tortuous. Tony and his goddamn insistence that Loki participate in team bonding. A day at the beach, one which Loki spent lounging in the hot sand shielding his eyes from the blinding sun. You had splashed around in the waves with Natasha and bounced around in a bikini that seemed specifically designed to torture Loki. The bottoms had shifted themselves to ride up quite a few times, and Loki had taken pleasure in watching you reach back with slippery fingers to pull them out of your ass.

Loki’s cock throbbed again, almost violently this time. He moaned softly into the open air. The sound was pained, and Loki felt his hand begin to drift towards the string of his pajama bottoms. They were silk, and because Loki had chosen to forgo underwear, the soft material felt like heaven against his swollen erection. Before his fingers could slip inside to where he needed them most, Loki ripped them away in defiance and turned onto his side, tangling the blanket between his legs as he rolled. The pressure of the thick comforter into his crotch made Loki suck in a surprised breath. His hips twitched upward of their own accord and Loki’s eyes fluttered in pleasure.

Loki could feel his will dissolving with every jolt of pleasure that swam up his spin. His mind spun with images of you: you curled up against him, reaching back with your dainty hand to pull him closer to you, encouraging him to grind against your backside. As if he was in a daze, Loki grabbed one of the many pillows adorning his bed and shoved it between his legs. The firmness of the pillow was so much more satisfying than the blanket, and Loki groaned.

It was over, he had accepted defeat. Loki was about to hump his pillow like an animal and it was all your fault. He thought of that wet bikini sticking to your skin, your breasts bouncing as you jogged back up the beach to him and breathed out a “what’s up” like he wasn’t about to cum in his swim trunks just from watching you. As the memories danced through his head, Loki’s hips began to roll in more deliberate motions. With every thrust, his cock pressed up against the soft material of his pants. Loki could feel the pre-cum wetting the silk, but it only served to amplify his pleasure as the damp fabric clung to his skin.

The buzzing of his phone startled Loki out of his fantasies, and he nearly wanted to throw the thing against the wall. Tony would get him a new one, as he always did no matter how many times that Loki had insisted they were unnecessary devices. As much as he wanted to let it ring, Loki had learned that calls at this hour usually meant an unexpected mission, and he’d be back on house arrest if he didn’t answer. Loki reluctantly leaned over to his bedside table to grab the vibrating object, keeping the pillow between his legs. His heart came to a near stop as he saw your name illuminated on the screen.

A few moments passed as Loki stared dry-mouthed at the caller ID, wondering when he had fallen asleep. Because the only explanation for you calling him in the middle of the night was that he was dreaming. Sure, you had texted him the occasional internet video that you thought he’d enjoy, but had never called him. And certainly not at five in the morning. With a hard swallow, Loki hit the “accept call” button and waited.

“Hey, Loki?” Came your tired-sounding voice. It wasn’t as gorgeous when muffled by the phone static, but it gave Loki shivers nonetheless.

“What is this about?” Loki tried to sound as irritated as possible, figuring that would be the proper reaction to receiving a call this early. The truth was that he was elated to hear your voice, and was disgusted by himself. A mortal, making him this weak in the knees, it was absolutely pathetic.

You were silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t sleep. I-I’m not really sure why I called you, I’m sorry for waking you up. I’ll just--”

“Wait!” Loki burst out before you could end the call. His loud voice echoed back at him in the silent room and he cringed, hoping that no one had heard him. Loki bit his lip anxiously, uncertain of what to say to keep you on the line. “Um, I was awake. I couldn’t sleep either.”

“Oh, I guess that’s good. Well, not really good that you can’t sleep, I mean good that I didn’t wake you.”

Loki chuckled at your awkward ramblings. Norns, you were so cute. “Don’t worry, pet, I know what you meant.” As the words left his lips, Loki’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d just called you. Pet. It had been a slip of the tongue, but it brought forth a whole new round of fantasies. He couldn’t help but imagine about what it would be like to own you, to grab you by your pretty face and push his cock between your lips over and over. Absent-mindedly, Loki began to move his hips against the pillow again. He had to bite down on his tongue to keep from gasping. As quietly as he could manage, he put the call on speaker and set the phone down beside him so he could lie back on his side and resume his earlier activities. Loki knew it was so, so wrong to do this while you were none-the-wiser, but he couldn’t help it. He had been so worked up for so long and now it was like his body had taken over, hell bent on getting the relief it needed.

“So, why couldn’t you sleep?”

“Oh, just lost in my thoughts, I suppose,” Loki said as his eyes fell shut. His voice was the slightest bit strained, the soft drag of his pants against his cock making it hard to focus.

“Yeah, same here.” You sighed into the phone, and Loki heard a bit of rustling as you presumably got more comfortable. “I have trouble sleeping a lot, actually. I guess I just get lonely.”

A heavy weight of guilt sank into Loki’s chest. Here you were, opening yourself up to him, and he was trying to get off to the sound of your voice. He was truly depraved, that was for sure. But fuck, the tired rasp to your voice and the small sighs you let out were sending him sky high. His mind was running wild with fantasies of you under him, you in his lap, you up against the wall as he fucked you into it. Loki fought to sound normal as he responded to you. “I understand. Most beings are very social creatures, we need company to--ah!” A particularly rough thrust of his hips had caught Loki off guard as the mind-numbing pleasure rocketed through his body.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, pet,” Loki said, panting as he forced his hips to still. “Just stretching.” It was a lame excuse, but Loki was too far gone to come up with anything better. His body quaked as he tried to keep still, like his own muscles were attempting to disobey his brain. Everything in him was screaming out for more. Cum, you need to cum. Once again, Loki was forced to give in as his hips resumed their grinding. The pillow itself was now damp with how much he was leaking, and it felt amazing.

The phone was quiet, and Loki could almost hear how hard you were thinking on the other end. And then: “Loki, are you...masturbating?” Your voice trailed off as you said that word. The sheer embarrassment was evident in your tone, and Loki was almost astounded at how bold you were. Not many humans had the nerve to just up and ask something like that.

Even through the shock of being caught, Loki could not find it in him to be surprised that you had caught on. You had always come across as intelligent to him, it was foolish to think he could fool you with a half-hearted excuse. Still, it was beyond humiliating to have been called out so brazenly. Loki saw no point in denying it; you would not have asked if you weren't sure. “Yes,” he replied, voice cracking as he froze in place for the second time. Despite the embarrassment, Loki’s erection did not not falter. In fact, it seemed that he only got harder. This mortal would be the death of him.

“O-oh!” You seemed surprised, like you hadn’t expected him to come right out with it. “I’m so sorry, I guess I interrupted you, huh? Shit, I’m sorry.” How absurd. Loki was the one shamelessly rubbing himself against a pillow while talking to you, and you were the one apologizing.

Loki found it intriguing that you hadn’t hung up immediately upon learning of his actions. You hadn’t seemed disgusted at all, just apologetic for interrupting his activities. Loki wasn’t sure if your lack of repulsion was what caused it, or if it was simply his need clouding his judgement, but his mouth began to move before he could stop it. “It’s excellent for sleep. I highly recommend it for nights like these.”

There was no sugar coating it; that was a proposition, no matter how poorly disguised it was as simple advice. “Um,” came your faint reply. Loki’s face burned as he pictured the look of horror you were probably wearing at the moment. And then he nearly swallowed his tongue as you spoke again. “Yeah, I tried earlier. Wasn’t really...working.”

A new gush of blood found its way into Loki’s cock at your admission. He couldn’t help but imagine you writhing on your bed, soaked in sweat and your own slick as you tried desperately to get to that crescendo of pleasure. His blush had somehow grown even stronger, and he couldn’t recall the last time he had even blushed at all. This mortal was killing him, you were his executioner and he was begging for you to pull the trigger.

“That’s quite unfortunate,” Loki managed through his reverie. He was still frozen, almost scared to begin his motions again for fear of cumming on the spot. His cock twitched in time with his racing heart, occasionally dripping precum into his pants. Loki was a mess, but he could not bring himself to care in the slightest. All that mattered was the arousal screaming under his skin and your intoxicating voice in his ears.

“Yeah. Sorry, should I go? And let you, y’know, finish?”

Loki racked his brain for an excuse to get you to stay. It was maddening, how quickly you had ruined him. Seduction was one of his many talents, as was manipulation. In the past, he would have had no trouble at all talking someone into his bed and onto his cock, but you were different. Every flirtation died on his lips the moment he was in your presence, and it was all he could do to form complete sentences as you turned his knees to jelly.

After an excruciating period of silence as Loki thought, he finally spoke. “It would be unfair of me to abandon you in favor of pleasuring myself when you cannot do the same.”

This time it was your turn to stay quiet. Loki waited anxiously, half-expecting you to just leave anyway. He had already come to terms with your disinterest in him, you were probably just being polite. But...you had called him. There must have been at least a slight attraction for Loki to have been on your mind after attempting to get yourself off.

“Maybe we could…” There was a tremble to your voice as you trailed off, and Loki held his breath as he waited for you to finish. Whatever your suggestion ended up being, he was ready to enthusiastically agree. Anything that involved you and pleasure was incredibly enticing. “Maybe we don’t have to hang up, then.”

Loki’s eyes went wide. Did you mean…? An involuntary moan fell from his lips as he shivered at the thought. “I would, mm, not be opposed to that idea.” Loki’s body had won over for the final time that night and his hips began to move again. After restraining himself for so long, feeling that delicious friction once again nearly overwhelmed him.

“I don’t really know how to do this,” you said. “I can’t really believe I actually asked you that.”

“Would you like instruction, pet?”

“That might help, yeah.”

Loki began to wonder if he was dead, and this was his version of Valhalla. Whatever the case, he was going to ride this high for as long as he could. Everything else seemed to fade into the distance: the chirping of birds outside as the sun rose, the hum of the traffic down below, all of it meant nothing. It meant nothing because you were on the other side of the phone asking for Loki to tell you how to touch yourself. Loki took a deep breath and tried to get a hold of himself; he needed to let you catch up before he could allow himself to lose control.

“I want you to get undressed, and get comfortable.” That was a simple enough command, Loki figured. If he started slow, maybe he could reign in his pathetic neediness and focus solely on your pleasure.

“Okay, I can do that.” The speaker went quiet as you presumably settled onto your bed and slipped out of your pajamas. “Now what?”

“Touch your breasts,” Loki said. His breathing was heavy, but even as he settled into the role of your instructor. “Rub your fingers across them, tell me how it feels.”

You sighed happily. “It feels really nice. Can you tell me what you’re doing?”

Loki was a bit ashamed to admit that he was currently grinding into a pillow, but figured there was no point in lying. “I’m, uh, I have a pillow between my legs, and I’m rubbing against it.”

A whimper burst from your lips. “Oh, that’s so hot.”

“Is it?” Loki asked hesitantly. He didn’t feel very attractive; slick trousers and sweat coated skin, fighting hard to hold it together.

“Yeah, fuck. Can I touch myself, please?”

Loki wanted to drag it out a bit longer, to tease you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say no to that pretty voice. Especially when you asked so nicely. “Go ahead, pet. You’re such a good girl.”

There was a faint slick sound, then a drawn out moan. Loki groaned in response, the sound extracting a full body shiver from the god. He had never heard such alluring sounds of pleasure, you were just so far above any other being he had ever met. “That’s it,” he murmured in encouragement.

“Feels so good,” you said, voice growing high pitched. “Shit, I’m not gonna last too long. Ah, fuck. Been needing this all night.”

Loki sucked in a breath and began to thrust with more fervor. His eyes nearly rolled back at the pressure and his thighs squeezed around the pillow. “That’s okay, darling. I, oh--” Loki cut himself off with a strangled moan as his pleasure mounted. “I need to cum, too.”

For a moment, panting and whimpered moans were the only thing coming through the speaker. Loki prayed that you were as close as he was, because the coil tightening in his stomach threatened to snap at any moment. It was all he could do to keep from allowing his release to overtake him before you got yours. “Please, pet. I want to hear you cum,” he ground out as his eyes fell shut.

“So close,” you whined. “Loki, I’m gonna cum.”

He couldn’t help it. Loki’s control disintegrated as he began rutting into the pillow like a wild animal. His hips moved in sharp, quick thrusts, and quiet moans left his lips with every movement. ‘Cum--fuck, mm--cum for me, love.” He was going to cum, he couldn’t stop. He just needed you to finish first.

The phone crackled as you let out a sharp cry of pleasure. Loki listened in a trance, trying to memorize every noise that left your lips as you climaxed. Your sounds spurred him on, and he found himself tipping over the edge, cumming harder than he had in a long time. Pleasure whited out his vision, and Loki could faintly hear himself whining your name in a broken voice. He didn’t get the chance to be embarrassed about the noise; his cock pulsed in dizzying waves of euphoria, spurting out rope after rope of hot cum. It shot into his pants, soaking them all the way through and seeping into the pillow. It wasn’t until the last drop had left his body that he was finally able to stop the groans that had been bubbling up from his throat.

As the pleasure subsided, Loki sagged against the bed and took in the mess he had made. His pants were ruined, no doubt about that. And the pillow? Well, it would most likely need a few good washes. But he felt sated, too relaxed to even care about the cum drying to his thighs.

“Are you still there?”

Fuck, he had almost forgotten that you were still on the phone. “Yes,” he croaked out. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finished for him. Though you couldn’t see him, Loki nodded in agreement.

The bed suddenly felt very large and very empty after the daze of Loki’s orgasm faded. He found himself wishing that you were here, so he could wrap his arms around that perfect waist and bury his nose in your hair. It was an incredibly foreign feeling; Loki had never been one to cuddle after sex. But then again, everything about you was different. You were special. Loki opened his mouth, ready to invite you to his room, but something stopped him. What if this had been just a spur of the moment thing for you? What if you only saw him as a tool to get yourself off?

“Would it be weird if I came down there?” You asked, startling Loki out of his thoughts. There you went again, calming his anxieties before he even had the chance to feel them.

A relieved grin broke out on his face, and his heart sped up again in excitement. “No, I would very much enjoy that.” And for the first time in a very long time, Loki felt wanted.

[selfcarecap]

Nudes [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Peter uses EDITH to help his crush (you, duh) with something. (I really have to work on my summarising skills)

Warning: FFH Spoilers lol, Nudes (?), a bit of naive reader in the beginning, no smut but sexual themes I guess?, David” swearing, ik they’re in high school but they’re still over 18 cause nudes

Peter and MJ broke up, no after credit scenes ever happened :)

A/N: I wrote this yesterday instead of studying for History so it’s not my best work ever but it’s still cute and you should read it  :) (aw this is from when I originally wrote this fic that's so cute awsghdjk baby!me, I miss history tbh)

Word count: 3.7k

-this is a repost of one of my first fics like over a year ago? and I could have edited the shit out of this but idk I thought it was cute lol-

gif not mine

“Peter, I have to tell you something.” You’re quite embarrassed about your secret but if there’s anyone you can trust, it’s Peter.

You’ve not actually been the closest of friends for long, it’s just recently that you’ve become more than just classmates and have done stuff together outside of school.

And, it would be a complete lie to say that you didn’t have a massive crush on Peter, but he just got out of the relationship with MJ and you didn’t want to risk your friendship with him. So you tried other boys.

Of course that turned out to be a mistake.

“Please promise me not to judge me or to think I’m stupid, I really don’t know what was going through my head.” You warn him before you reveal what you’ve done, although you know he’s the most kind person and would never judge you for anything you’ve done.

“I’d never think you’re stupid. And you’re safe with me, you can tell me anything.” He says reassuringly and leans in to where you’re both sat on your bed, opposite of each other.

“Okay, so... I sent... I sent these, um, pictures to this guy, and I know that I shouldn’t have sent these pictures..”

Wait what pictures?

“...but stupidly I trusted this guy. Anyway I sent the pictures and he replied, you know, satisfied... I guess. But now he’s not really texting me anymore and I’m scared that he’ll send the pictures to someone. You know you can’t actually see that much, it’s not.. that bad I’m not quite that stupid, but they were still private photos that I wouldn’t want anyone else to see...” You ramble, eyes on the floor and you’re playing with your hoodie-sleeves pulled over your hands.

“Wait what type of pictures?” Peter asks, not quite understanding yet.

“You know...” He shakes his head and bites his tongue.

“What type of pictures do you think? I know I shouldn’t have sent them but...?” He’s still not getting it, okay he’s too innocent for this shit, “What type of pictures would I send the guy that I like and wouldn’t want anyone else to see?” You ask shyly.

“Wait do you mean nudes?” He realises and shouts a bit but you shush him, not wanting your parents in the other room to hear.

“Like I said, I’m not like... naked, you can’t see everything but I... I don’t even know why I told you this, it’s not like you can do anything about it..” You try and change the subject, you feel like Peter’s judging you and you don’t even know how Peter would have helped anyway.

“Just forget I ever said anything, let’s go back to watching the movie.” You grab the remote control to turn the 90s film you were watching back on but Peter grabs the control from you with a concerned look on his face.

Truth is, Peter’s not judging you, he’s fucking jealous.

He knows he has no right to be jealous but the was one time he saw you in a bikini, although you kept your arms over your body the whole time - not that you had anything to worry about - Peter thought you were absolutely gorgeous, and now you’re out here sending freaking half naked pictures to some guy you haven’t even told Peter about?

He wishes you’d send him pictures like that, not because he’s horny (okay, he definitely wouldn’t mind seeing you like that at all) but because of the trust you have to have in a person to do something like that.

To be fair, he just broke up with MJ, they’re still on good terms but after a few weeks into the relationship they both realised that it was just the initial excitement of liking someone like that for the first time, but they weren’t really meant to be.

Besides, Peter had  developed a serious crush on you, and it wouldn’t have been fair on MJ, she was with Brad Davis now, too.

And he’d never got that far with MJ, sending half naked pictures or even seeing her like that. But maybe that was because neither was MJ a girl who took or sent pictures like that, nor was Peter a guy who’d ever ask for a picture like that unless the girl offered. Even then he’d probably be extra cautious and just prefer seeing it in real life.

“No! We can talk about this. Who is he?” You’re still not looking him in the eyes when you tell him “David.”

Oh, Peter knows David.

“That’s your type?” He asks more harshly than he intends to.

“Looks-wise anyway, it turns out he’s an asshole personality-wise so...”

You hope Peter doesn’t realise how similar they actually look, the same floppy brown hair that you wish you could play with all day, same brown, beautiful eyes that you could stare into forever (Peter’s eyes are far more kind though), same height and body type that you longed to touch even when you only ever saw them in their clothes.

Of course, Peter’s personality won by far, very, very far. And he’s more good-looking anyway, they are the same type though.

And Peter does notice the similarities. Same hair colour, height, overall just same type.

Does that mean you could at least consider him as a boyfriend? Okay, wrong time to think about that.

“Oh, yeah you’re right, he’s an asshole.” Peter comments lazily, David’s actually an okay guy, just not the biggest gentleman, but apart from his behaviour towards girls, David really isn’t a bad guy. Of course Peter doesn’t want you to know that.

You just nod and bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of what to do next.

Then it suddenly hits Peter, how he could help you. He has EDITH, he’d successfully deleted that picture Brad Davis had of him, so he’d just have to do the same on David’s phone.

He desperately wants to help you.

“I’ve got an idea!”

*

“Hey, Edith,” Peter whispers, you’re next to him, leaning against your locker in the break, so Peter wouldn’t look suspicious talking to himself.  “Could you access David’s phone for me please?”

You can’t hear what the computer glasses (or whatever the fuck they are) are saying - Peter’d told you they were an unfinished project by Tony Stark. He didn’t reveal much about them but they were advanced enough to delete the pictures off David’s phone.

You can only watch Peter’s facial expressions and he’s concentrated, and it looks as if Edith is doing the job so far.

“Okay, now I need you to delete all pictures off his phone, photo gallery, text messages, wherever they are, all pictures that have y/n in them.”

Peter looks at you for a face scan, and then back over at David, who is standing by his locker, doing something on his phone.

The look on Peter’s face changes once he sees the photos of you pop up in front of him.

That’s not what he expected.

There you are in your bathroom in front of your mirror, the first picture‘s kind of harmless.

You, fresh out of the shower, hair still wet and bare-faced with no makeup, a look Peter loves on you, in a blue satin pyjama blouse. Yes, it’s slightly unbuttoned, enough to make out the outline of your breast, but not more than he’d seen often on you when you simply wore a lower cut top.

The next picture is what does it for him and his heart stops for a second.

You, still in your bathroom, this time though, the blouse is completely open and slid down to your elbows, hanging behind your back and down your sides.

You didn’t lie, he couldn’t see everything of your naked boobs, but it’s enough to get him flustered and he can’t concentrate for a moment.

One of your hands is up to cover your right nipple and your arm is placed over your chest so your other nipple isn’t visible either, but he’s able to see the rest of your perfect, soft flesh. Your other hand is holding your phone in front of your face but anyone who knows you would be able to tell that it’s you.

He blinks and looks at you, who’s nervously looking back at him, waiting for him to delete the pictures off David‘s phone.

You, of course, don’t know that he actually has to look at the pictures in order to confirm to Edith to delete them.

Just seeing how nervous you are gets him back on track and he gazes at the pictures again, just this time with his backpack covering the front area of his pants.

But besides those two pictures, there‘s more. Pictures David‘s taken screenshots of, from your Instagram account and Peter feels sick, guessing what David used all those pictures for.

It doesn’t stop there though. There aren’t many, but a few pictures Peter hadn’t seen before, David must have taken them himself.

Pictures of you on a picnic blanket in a park, laughing, and you looked beautiful.

Another photo of you in your sweats on your bed, papers spread out in front of you, as well as coffee.

Peter thought he was your study partner?

Then there’s also a video, one of you two making out. He doesn’t want to fucking see that, but it starts playing nevertheless and what he sees makes him sick with jealousy.

You and David, in someone’s bedroom, David’s bedroom, and the phone is presumably placed on the headboard, recording the two of you.

David’s mouth is pressed against yours in a sloppy kiss. It doesn’t look very enjoyable, two tongues colliding, spit between the two of you, but the little moans coming out of your mouth tell Peter otherwise and he blushes deeply.

He’s grateful that only he is able to hear and watch the video, he doesn’t want people thinking he’s watching porn at school.

Before he’s able to possibly see more, and imagine and get jealous at what you’ve done with David, he confirms to Edith to delete all pictures and videos with you in and surely within a second they’re all gone.

He wonders how far the relationship between you and David had gone, if it even was a relationship, but he knows you’d tell him if you wanted to and otherwise it was none of his business.

“Deleted. You’ve got nothing to worry about now.” Peter smiles at you, taking the glasses off and you hug him, thank him ten times, because who knows what could’ve happened if the pictures were in the wrong hands.

“Do you know if he sent them to someone else or something?”

“No, he didn’t. I think it’s been deleted everywhere though, so it won’t be on your phone anymore either.” He explains.

“Aw, I liked the picture,” You frown shortly and oh, Peter liked the picture, too, but of course he won’t tell you he’s seen it, “But don’t worry, thanks again. Really, thank you so much. See you later.”

“Um, wait a second.” Peter stops you from walking away.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but, uh,” He doesn’t know why he’s saying this, it’s not true but he wants to make sure you don’t go back to David,

“There were other pictures. Of other girls. From weeks ago and also more recently. Quite a few actually, and I, I just thought you deserved to know that.”

“Oh.” Is all you say. It’s enough that you and David stopped talking after he finally got the pictures of you, but now he‘s even been talking to other girls, multiple girls, while you two had been going out and he obviously had no problem moving on, if he’d ever even truly liked you.

You don’t want to cry because of that asshole, especially not while he’s in the same hallway as you and doesn’t give a single fuck about you. But the tears just form in your eyes and you can’t hold back.

Peter notices immediately and hugs you tight as soon as he sees the frown on your  perfect face and you bury your face in his neck, still desperately trying not to break down completely.

But Peter’s face is probably more miserable than yours.

He wishes to be the one taking the pain of heartbreak, and not you.

Sure, he’d been sad when MJ and him broke up, but judging by what he’d just seen, him and her weren’t nearly as close as you and David.

Then he’d had you to cheer him up, he never complained about MJ, talking about your ex girlfriend to your new crush probably wasn’t the best topic, but you had cheered him up without even knowing.

You made him happy and he decided to make it his mission to make you as happy as you’d made and make him.

*

You and Peter are watching movies, as always, the following Saturday.

He knows you’re not extremely sad, mostly just upset, and while you hadn’t really talked to him much, he knew that you had to tell him sooner or later in order to get over David quicker.

Peter knows talking about things makes it hurt less, but only if you’re ready to talk.

And there’s this other thing... He hasn’t been able to get the pictures out of his head, as much as he tried.

This was a problem, because, first of all, the pictures had been for David and not for Peter to see, and he felt like he was betraying you by not telling you he’d saw.

Secondly, they were for David and it made him jealous to no end.

Thirdly, they were sexy pictures, and although Peter’s not your typical hormonal teenager, he’s a hormonal teenager to some extent.

“I’ve got to confess something.” He blurts out, not being able to keep it to himself anymore, it feels like he’s abusing what he’s seen.

“Shoot.”

“When I deleted the pictures, I, you know,... I had to look at them in order to confirm that they were the right ones to delete, so yeah... I saw them.”

“Well... did you like them?”

What kind of question is that?

If he says ‘yes, the pictures were great, I enjoyed them’, he’d give away that he has a crush that you probably don’t reciprocate.

If he says no, he didn’t like the pictures, that would be a lie, and how the fuck would you feel if he told you that?

“Is there even a right answer to that? I mean, you even said yourself that you liked them, and, damn,...” Okay stop there that’s enough.

“I suppose you’re right.”

You understand Peter’s dilemma with that question, saying yes would be weird, saying no would be mean and, although you doubted he liked you back, untrue. But you’d love to hear from Peter that you looked good, you didn’t need it, but it sure as hell would cheer you up right now.

“Uh, so you’re not mad at me seeing them?” He asks cautiously.

“I mean, first of all you had no other choice, you deleted them and that was basically impossible and I owe you for that if anything, but also... I sent them to an asshole like David, so obviously you seeing them is much better than him being able to see them again.”

What the hell do you mean by that? Girls are so confusing.

“I know it’s none of my business, and it’s okay if you don’t want to answer, but since I saw the pictures I also saw the video,”

You furrow your eyebrows “What video?”

“Uh... there was a video of you two making out, I guess that was his room.”

“Oh yeah, I completely forgot he took that. Thanks Peter, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, it was all thanks to Edith, not me.” He blushes.

“Anyway, what was your question?”

“Again, it’s fine if you don’t want to answer, but how.. close did you two get?” He can’t say the words, can’t imagine you and David... like that, doesn’t want to.

You muster him with a serious expression and Peter feels like he might cry, until you crack a smile.

“Noooo,” You draw out, amused, “You really think I’d give it up to someone like David? I’m not that stupid. Anyway, I was just with him hoping to forget about another guy.” And again, Peter’s heart breaks. Another guy?

Okay, don’t make it obvious now, Parker.

“I mean you were stupid enough to send him those pictures of you.” He jokes, earning a light slap to his arm and the way he said the words, you have your answer on what he thought of your pictures.

“Did it work? I mean, getting over the other guy?”

“Not at all. David’s nowhere near as good as the other guy, not as cute either.” You say it with such ease, but Peter can hear your heart beating in your chest furiously. He doesn’t know that it’s because you think he might catch on that it’s him.

The heart in his chest is broken, he’s got you away from David but now he’s got an even bigger threat, a guy ‘much cuter’ than David. And David didn’t look that different to Peter.

*

You lay awake in bed that night. The last days you’ve been a bit sad, a bit because of David, but mostly because of Peter. Maybe you should’ve stayed with David, he saw you as more than a friend, or at least acted like it.

Peter’s so innocent and he couldn’t even tell you that he liked your pictures. That had to be a clear sign that he didn’t like you like that, right?

But if you never asked, you’d never get the answer.

So somehow you pluck up the courage and text him. After twenty minutes of thinking what to write, you just go with the simplest way of saying it.

Peter, it’s you

The guy I like

If you don’t feel the same it’s okay, but please be nice

Peter could not believe his eyes when he read the text message. If you hadn’t written his name P-e-t-e-r (he checked five times) he’d be absolutely positive that you got the wrong number.

He was just on his way home from his Spider-Man activities when he heard your special ringtone go off in his pocket.

And now he just has to see you.

When he arrives at your window, web shooters now hidden under his sweater and suit off, he sees you lying on your bed.

The same blue satin blouse from the picture, but he doesn’t allow his mind to wander and get jealous and angry, your hands are around your phone which lies on your belly and you look troubled.

And he realises he maybe should have texted you back before leaving you hanging and then unexpectedly showing up at your window.

But he knocks without thinking, startling you but luckily you recognise him quickly.

“Peter, how the hell did you get up here?” You ask, opening the window for him and he jumps onto the floor into your room. “Fire escape.”

“Uh, I sent you a text, did you…?” You scratch your neck nervously, looking to the floor.

“Yes, I know! Did you - did you mean it?” Peter asks eagerly.

“Uh-huh, but it’s okay if you don’t feel-“ But you’re interrupted by Peter’s lips on yours.

It takes you by surprise so you don’t give in straight away, alarming Peter and he pulls back to look at you anxiously. What if he understood your text the wrong way?

But you kiss him back with full force and he stumbles against your wall at your eagerness.

“Sorry.” You pull back again slightly.

“Don’t be.” And you’re at it again.

After a few, hard, short kisses he pulls back again and you want nothing more than to have your mouth against his but he looks at you so beautifully you might melt right away.

“So, uh, I like you, too. Quite a lot.” He mutters and catches his breath.

“I kind of guessed.” You smile.

“But I also lied to you.. There were no pictures of other girls on David’s phone, I just said it so that you definitely don’t like him anymore. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have lied” You don’t say anything for a second.

“We broke up before I thought he was texting other girls. I don’t care what’s on David’s phone anymore. You’re the one I want.”

“Oh. Thank God. Want to... go back to kissing then?” He smiles and you lead him back to your bed where you’re more comfortable.

After a few minutes of kissing and occasionally stopping to look and smile at each other you slip your tongue into Peter’s mouth and now he understands why David and you had been doing that in the video.

And while he hates himself for thinking of David, while your tongue is in his mouth, that’s exactly the reason. Because unlike what he thought when he saw that video, your tongue in his mouth doesn’t feel gross at all but surprisingly nice.

“Will...you...be...my girlfriend?” He asks between kisses and you stop for a second.

“Yes.” You reply, out of breath. “I’d love to.”

“That includes, and I also hope you won’t be sending any other guys half naked pictures anymore because, you know, I’m your boyfriend now,” He says proudly, “No secrets between us, okay?”

“Yeah. That goes for you too, though,”

Wait does that mean...?

“And I wonder how the hell you got all the way up to my room if the fire escape is on the other side of the building? It’s like you’re Spider-Man or something...”

Uh oh

[h0neypjm]

Just for practice | kth

↳ Summary: “I think we should normalise giving head to your friends as practice.”

↳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, slight Hoseok x reader

↳ Genre: Smut, pwp, some plot i guess, best friend! Taehyung

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: swearing, lip biting, hickies, oral (both female and male receiving), rough blowjobs, spanking, fingering, squirting, big dick! Tae, possessiveness/jealousy, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), dom/sub themes, Taehyung calls reader lots of pet names (sweetheart, darling, good girl), degradation, biting, slight cockwarming

↳ a/n: I’ve been having major writer’s block while writing confident :( however, i saw this tweet which prompted this lil oneshot hope you enjoy

Jung Hoseok [ 2:15 PM ]

Am I gonna see you at Seokjin’s tomorrow?

You [ 2:16 PM ]

I’ll be there :)

Jung Hoseok [ 2:18 PM ]

You’re not gonna run away from me this time, right?

You [ 2:20 PM ]

No of course not haha

Jung Hoseok [ 2:21 PM ]

Is that a promise princess?

A sigh flies out of your mouth like wind through a window and you’re shucking off your glasses in an instant. Hoseok’s texts bringing back a flurry of memories that you wish to forget.

“Do you need help with your essay again?”

Your eyes are strained when they try to focus on Taehyung, your shoulders shrug in defeat. “No, I’m fine. It’s just-”

Taehyung knows immediately, he is your best friend after all. “Let me guess, It’s Hoseok isn’t it?” 

You slump in your seat while a pout is cutely drawn onto your face, you nod with dismay. “I really like him Tae, and every time we see each other, It’s like the universe has it out for me and tries to make sure I embarrass myself in front of him.”

Taehyung shuts his laptop because he knows there's no use in trying to write an essay while you speak about your utterly tragic love life. He thinks about your situation for a minute before he speaks.

“Yes, you might’ve spilled your beer on him and accidentally punched him in the eye, more than once. But, if he’s still texting you he’s obviously still into you. It’s a good sign sweetheart.” Taehyung pats your hand across the coffee table, a comforting smile adorning his handsome face.

Taehyung doesn’t know the full extent of your problem and the more you think about it the more embarrassing it becomes. So you smile back at him uttering a small thank you before turning back to your laptop.

Taehyung raises a brow, “wait, wait, hang on, something is still bothering you.” 

You frown, “it’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung shuffles around the corner of the coffee table as if you’re about to tell him a secret, though it’s just the two of you in his small apartment. “Just tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

“Taehyung it is that bad.” You tilt your head at him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater around your tiny fists. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

Taehyung feigns shock at your words, his hands placed on his heart for dramatic effect. “I would never laugh, and frankly I’m offended you think that low of me.” 

You roll your eyes, turning your body more towards him, deciding it wouldn't hurt letting Taehyung know the thoughts plaguing your mind. “Well, you know how Hoseok and I have been kind of flirty lately, right?” He nods in understanding. 

“I can tell he wants more than that, you know? His touches are small but I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and don’t get me wrong, the feeling is completely mutual because trust me I want that too. Really bad.” 

Taehyung hums, interrupting your soon-to-be graphic rambling. “I totally get it Y/N. Now let’s stop beating around the bush so I can help you.”

If Taehyung were a girl, this would be so much easier. You curse your eight-year-old self who just had to become friends with a boy because God, how do you even start?

Taehyung is a patient man, always giving you space before helping you but, in this situation, you feel it’s best to just rip the band-aid off. Taehyung if you can read my mind, please don’t laugh at me.

“I’venevergivensomeoneablowjob.”

You speak so suddenly, Taehyung’s not so sure he heard you correctly. “Huh?”

“Goddammit Tae”, you rub and your temples and avoid his stare. “I’ve never given someone a blowjob!”

His eyes are wide. “Oh” 

You hide your face into the table while your body internally cringes. At least he didn’t laugh. “See! You do think it’s bad.”

“I’m just surprised to be honest”, he reassures, leaning back onto his palms, strong brows pulled together in thought. “Shit Y/N, have you really never sucked a dick before?”

Sure, you’ve had sex many times (most of which have been extremely disappointing) but, it seems that most of your hookups want to get straight into fucking. No foreplay, no nothing. Just unseasoned, pleasureless fucking.

A groan rumbles out of your throat, “It just never happened! They were all about that hump and dump lifestyle I guess.”

Taehyung is utterly baffled at your statement. In Taehyung’s books, It is compulsory to treat every women like a queen. Preparing and edging them the perfect amount of times to see them crumble so sensually by his very doing. To Taehyung, seeing a woman cry out his name from experiencing the most explosive, leg-shaking orgasm was always his favourite part.

This is why Taehyung is absolutely shattered for you. “So, you’re also telling me no one has ever eaten you out?” You miserably nod, “that’s actually fucking evil!”

His words do not ease you one bit as you throw your head onto the seat behind you. “The way you say it makes me feel even worse. This is the sole reason why I run away from Hoseok and make a fool out of myself.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, the air floating around carrying an awkward silence. You don’t really care and you don’t expect Taehyung to think of a solution. Plus, you’re already embarrassed enough.

You might as well leave and ask one of your girlfriends for help, maybe finish your essay while you’re at it. You sigh, shutting your laptop and stacking your books together. 

However, the next sentence that flies out of Taehyung’s mouth makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“I think I’ve figured out how I can help you.”

Wiggling back into a comfortable seating position, you lean into Taehyung with interest. “And how might you help me, dear Taehyung?”

He eyes you nervously, his fingers fiddling with his chunky rings, “You trust me, right?”

You smile, “yeah, of course, you’re my best friend Tae.”

An exhale puffs out of his mouth. “Why not practice on me?”

You almost choke on your spit. You definitely did not expect him to say that. “Could you repeat that please?”

A new glint of mischief sparkles in his eye. “Why not let me teach you how to give Hoseok the blowjob of his life and in return, I’ll eat you out”

Your brain is having a meltdown. 

“You’re fucking crazy”, you wail. “You actually want me to suck your dick?”

He brings his hands up in defence, “I think we should normalize giving head to your friends as practice, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. Think about it, you get to learn and cum at the same time.”

You won’t lie to yourself, the proposal is tempting and in all honesty, Taehyung is hot as fuck. You will forever thank the Gods above for blessing you with the delicious sight that is your best friend. However, the proposition puts you in an odd spot.

Apprehensive about your thoughts, you state your unease, “I-I don’t know Taehyung, don’t you think this might ruin our friendship?” An exhale, “have you seriously thought of me that way?”

Taehyung chuckles, it’s deep and totally unexpected to your question. “Sweetheart, there are many things that go on inside my head involving you. And to answer your question, they’re not completely innocent.”

A startled gasp is ripped from your throat and your stomach flutters with a dangerous mix of nervousness, thrill and dare you say arousal.

Never in your life would you have imagined Kim Taehyung, your best friend since grade school, seeing you in such an inviting way. To make matters worse, It was intimidating to think about his fair share of experience and the long line of women backing up the fact that Taehyung was indeed some sort of sex demon.

Of course, you felt the same way. How could you not! The man was practically an incarnation of a Greek God. Broad sturdy shoulders that sat atop thick muscular thighs, and how could you forget his gorgeous fingers.

You’d die before you admit it, but there have been many nights where you have found yourself thinking about what his pretty long fingers could do to you. Those nights always ended with a mess of your sheets and a wetness between your thighs. It was your dirty little secret, however, it seems Taehyung also had some of his own.

His sharp eyes storm with darkness when he speaks, “don’t lie Y/N, I know you’ve had some dirty thoughts about me up in that pretty little head of yours.”

Pink blossoms over your cheeks like wildfire because he’s so terrifyingly right. “I don’t even need to touch you sometimes, one look and you’re a goner.” You gulp. “Look at you right now.” His gaze drops down to your thighs. “All my talking making you so needy, you need to clench your thighs to keep it together.”

He smiles, though it’s not his usual boxy, boyish smile. It’s dangerous and seductive almost smirking and shit when did he get so close to you? Your breathing is erratic and you have no idea how you could be so anxious yet so amorous at the same time. 

Your heart beats rapidly in your ears. “This is just for practice, right?”

Taehyung curses under his breath, “just for practice sweetheart.”

You don’t get to respond.

His lips are hesitant at first when they meet yours, yet his hands say the opposite. They start at your waist and tickle their way down to your stiff hands. Ever so gently, he pries them open, intertwining his long fingers with yours, and God, did his hands feel so right.

Your nerves dissipate slowly but surely as you allow him to explore your mouth with his skilful tongue. 

Much to Taehyung’s dismay, he finds you releasing your fingers from his own. Your hands flying to the nape of his neck, ultimately bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Taehyung moans in delight when you tug at his long curls, you bite his lip in reply while lust paints your vision and dampens your panties.

Taehyung never knew he would miss the feeling of your lips against his when he painfully pushes himself away to situate himself comfortably on the couch. It was time for the lesson to begin.

You pout at the distance, trying to wiggle close until he motions for you to get into a particular position. Your insides swell with eagerness.

His voice is sweet and his hands are delicate when he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Get down on your knees for me sweetheart.” You obey immediately. He smirks at your sinking form. “Good girl.”

You swear right then and there your pussy had gained a working heartbeat at his words. The unfamiliar pulse thumping as if it were trying to break loose from the constraints of your sweatpants.

Your eyes are big and expectant, slowly drinking up the sight of Taehyung’s delicious figure seated above you. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, legs spread to accompany your kneeling figure, and dominating stare pinning you down. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh-what do I do now?” You utter, making it known to Taehyung that he is in charge. He is in control.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, using a decorated pointer finger to hither your hands towards him. Hesitantly, you raise both hands, lightly placing them down on his thighs.

A click of his tongue makes its way to your ears and you know you’ve already made your first mistake. Taehyung’s brows furrow, it’s obvious you need to make the next move but your brain is fuzzy and flustered. 

He sighs at your confused silence, bringing your small hands onto his belt. Oh, you know what you’re supposed to do now.  

“I thought you were smarter than this, how else are you meant to get my dick out, hmm?” The blush across your cheeks has definitely spread profusely from his teasing. Its once peachy pink tone deepening into an embarrassing cherry red.

The buckle of his belt jingles under your fingertips as you nervously undo them. You’re apparently too slow for his liking, Taehyung finishing the job by pulling his belt off his pants, leaving you to stare down at the large bulge covered by the fabric of his tight jeans. You thought you had your nerves under control but the way your hands start to shake is an indication that this is real. You’re really about to suck your best friend off.

Ever the observant friend, Taehyung is quick to notice the slight shake in your fingers. “Wait, stop.”

You do as he says, quickly settling your palms back on the thickness of his covered thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this? your hands are shaking sweetheart.” His voice is laced with concern, a total switch to his previous words.

Clearing your throat you reply, “oh, no, no I’m fine.” You lock eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m doing good so I can be good for him.”

Possessiveness flares within Taehyung’s chest and he has no idea why. Although he doesn’t let it show, he can’t help the swell of his ego at the knowledge that he’s the first to get you like this. Not Hoseok. Him.

So, he grins his wide boxy grin, dragging a finger down your warm cheek. “Don’t worry darling, you’re in great hands”

The commanding smirk etched onto his lips sparks a surge of confidence through your veins, begging you to finally touch him.

With a tug of your small hands, Taehyung’s constricting jeans are pried off the taut muscle of his thighs and are left to pool around his ankles. The excitement of finally being able to suck dick coursing through your body like lighting, and just like his jeans, Taehyung’s boxers are off in a second.

His cock springs, tall, hard and proud. Your jaw drops, Taehyung chuckles at your reaction. You feel an ooze of wetness pooling in your panties.

His size is nothing you’ve seen before, thick and girthy with an impressive length to match. You wince at the thought of fitting him down your throat.

The cold metal of his rings against your hands brings your attention to Taehyung’s handsome face. Without breaking any eye contact, he wordlessly wraps your hands around the thickness of his cock.

It’s warm and swells in your palm, your two dainty hands stacked on top of each other. Fingers trying so hard to wrap themselves around the sheer girth of his cock.

You’re not dumb, you know what comes next. With a sharp inhale you begin to stroke up his length, paying close attention to his facial expression to get an idea of how well you’re doing

Taehyung’s head tilts to get a better view at your hands, “grip it tighter for me… yeah fuck that’s it.”

His praise boasts you on, holding tighter onto his cock and gathering the slick of his pre-cum with a twist of your wrist. Your eyes remain focused on the way the skin moves with your hands and the way his tip glistens with arousal. You want to lick it.

“When you’re ready you can put your mouth- Ahh shit Y/N!”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence when you’re already so eager to have him in your mouth. You do what you think would feel best, sucking on the head of his cock like a sweet ice lolly on a hot summer's day. Your tongue tracing the thick circumference before dipping into his slit.

A light groan falls from his mouth as he watches you lap at the remaining pre-cum that glistens in the afternoon light. Taehyung almost forgets why he’s here, lost in your plump lips wet with saliva.

Right, he’s here to teach you how to give a blowjob. “Try and take my whole length in darling.” 

You nod, taking a deep breath, your mouth opening wider to take him in as far as you can. You try to keep your throat relaxed taking him inch by inch.

“That's a good girl”, he praises, “you’re doing so well for me.” 

Your knees squeeze together, acting to relieve some pressure on your aching heat. It had truly been a while since you got some serious action.

Surprisingly you’re able to make your way to the hilt of his cock, a choked gag sputtering from your lips.

A few strands of hair fall in your face, blocking your eyes in the process. Swiftly, Taehyung brushes the hair from your eyes while simultaneously lifting your head off of his cock. 

You release him with a satisfying pop, your eyes wide and makeup a little smudged. Taehyung coaches you through the next steps. “I want you to try and do that again, but when you come back up, lick the length of my cock and look at me while you do it.”

Humming in acknowledgment you grip the base of his cock before pausing. “Isn’t this what you like though? What if Hoseok likes to be touched in a different way?”

An unintentional growl bubbles out of his mouth. Oh how he wished he could take your mind off Hoseok and have you screaming his name, thinking about him instead.

He pushes down his discontentment with the other man on your mind, “men are simple creatures Y/N, just making out sometimes can get them going. And judging by the way you’re sucking my cock right now, I’m sure Hoseok will be crazy for you.”

As Taehyung explains the ins and outs of a man’s brain, you don’t make an effort to stop the teasing of his cock. His words sound slurred, they go in one ear and out the other, and besides the delicious length in front of you is much more fascinating.

For the time being you stare up at him, your eyes wide feigning interest in his words, all while you grip his cock in one hand and continuously lap at his tip with a kitten-like flick of your tongue. 

Taehyung finally realises that you’ve stopped listening when he feels the small yet downright sensual pleasure shooting through his cock. He grunts, pushing your hair back once again, “fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking good.”

His preoccupied hand squeezes the pillows beside him, the veins of his hands popping out. You do what he taught you, seductive eyes laser focused on him while your wicked tongue leaves a hot trail up the prominent vein on his dick.

“Shit Y/N you’re doing so well-”

You release him from your mouth disrupting his sentence, “can you fuck my throat?”

Taehyung swears his whole body just convulsed at your request. He looks away just so he can contain himself because holy shit.

Obviously Taehyung has thought about you being in this position, saying those words. Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes this scenario, nothing would ever prepare him for those words to actually come out of your mouth with the most bewitching grin plastered on your pretty face.

He stutters, “I- no, I don’t know if you can take it darling.”

You grip his thighs, pout forming on those dangerous lips of yours, “please Tae, I want it. Want you to use me.”

Taehyung pushes the curls of his bangs away, a hiss steaming from his lips. “Alright, but if you feel any discomfort pinch my thigh, okay sweetheart?”

You’re impatient, “yeah, yeah, I can take your monster dick.” You place a small kiss on his thigh, “do your worst.”

His movements are all too fast, all too sudden. His fingers securing a death-grip on the mess of your hair before holding his cock up to your mouth. “You asked for it darling.”

Your mouth automatically widens, welcoming the rough intrusion of his cock as it slides all the way down your throat. A lewd gag fills the room.

A dark cloud of lust of dominance fogs Taehyung’s vision, his biceps flexing when he brings your head up and down his thick velvety length.

The room resounds with the filthy wet noises of your saliva covered lips pumping repeatedly. Taehyung breathes heavily through his nose, tilting his head against the cushions behind him. He keeps his hips still, yanking your hair at an obscene pace. A slew of curses and moans fly out into the air as he revels at the complete state of ecstasy you’ve put him under.

The heat of his member burns the back of your throat but you fucking love it. You open your teary eyes, gazing at his chiseled jaw and the way he shivers and groans above you. It only spurs you on when he glances back down, meeting your mascara ruined eyes.

It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Taehyung harshly pushes your head all the way to the base of his cock. Your face is met with his abdomen, the hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose.

He leaves you there, and the burn in your throat rises, leaving you gagging, your throat tightening around him.

Taehyung believes after this he could never get the image of your messy docile eyes and tarnished lips out of his brain. He feels your throat constrict, “sh-shit, fuck Y/N, breathe through your nose.” You inhale. “That’s my good girl.”

He releases you from his member only to push your lips back onto him, going back to his beastly pace. “You look so fucking pathetic, you think Hoseok wants a messy girl like you?”

You gurgle around him, tears freely falling down your cheeks as you try to shake your head no. He only mumbles out a groan, his cock abruptly pulsing under your tongue like a steady heartbeat.

It's all too sudden when he releases your head off his length, a glob of drool dripping down your chin and onto your shirt. 

“Fuck sorry I was about to cum.”

Although your heart swells with pride you wonder, “why didn’t you?”

He runs a hand through his messy locks, “the purpose of this was to teach you, don’t you still want to practice?”

You’re smug with your answer, “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

He swipes a finger under your tear stained eyes, “getting cocky now are we.” 

You were cocky indeed, “well I did get you shaking under my touch didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “get up you brat, I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

Fucking finally.

You won’t lie, you were probably most excited to finally know what it feels like to receive head. Your mind is still fuzzy from Taehyung’s rough ministrations as you slowly get up. You wobble slightly and Taehyung is quick to stabilize you with two strong arms holding the curve of your hips in place.

With his arms already around you he pushes you towards the couch, kicking his jeans off in the process.

Back flat against his plush couch you’re already stripping off your sweatpants and panties together in one. “My, my aren’t you eager”, he teases, a glint of shamelessness twinkling in his brown orbs when he drinks up the plushness of your thighs leading to your dripping cunt.

Holding your knees in the palm on his hands, he spreads them open to reveal the glossy folds on your heat. He kisses his teeth, satisfaction and hunger clear on his face. “Fuck, isn’t this a pretty sight.”

His words bring back a blush on your cheeks, you pull him forward, your lips inches away from his own. “Shut up please.”

And he shuts you up real good. Smashing your lips to his, he envelopes you into a feverish kiss, your tongues dancing the devil's tango.

His hands are adventurous, feeling the mounds of your breasts over your shirt. “Why the fuck isn’t your shirt off yet huh?” He tuts, pulling on the cotton fabric.

“I want yours off too.” You cutely mumble tugging at the hem of his shirt, to which he complies, tugging it off in one fluid motion. 

You peel your baggy shirt off just in time to see Taehyung's arm flex as he takes his very own shirt off. “Have you been working out? My God Tae, you're as big as Joon.”

He inwardly smirks because yeah he’s been working out and it's clearly paying off. He doesn’t want to show his glee however, “can we not talk about other men when I’m about to eat you out.”

You chuckle, eyes trailing down his buff arms to his v-line that leads to his dick like an arrow directing you to his treasure. You bite your lip, unclipping your lace bralette, “sure, sure, let’s get the show on the road.”

It’s Taehyung turn to drink up the sight of your body. “Fuck, always imagined what these tits looked like under all those tight clothes you wear.”

He’s really feeding into your praise kink. “Well, were they what you expected?”

He sucks on one immediately and you arch your back at the unexpected pleasure. “Even better”, he squeezes them in his palms, “they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He sucks a deep hickey under your left breast, leaving you whimpering with a hand tangled in his hair. “Always imagined what you sounded like moaning for me.”

You can’t reply, his touches burning through your skin. He kisses down your sternum to your stomach until he’s hovering above your aching clit, a tantalising grin on his face before he’s diving in.

“Fuck!” You wail at the unfamiliar yet mesmerising feelings. His tongue is stiff and pointed, flicking quickly up and down your bundle of nerves. 

The grip you have on his hair is deathly but it's the only thing in your reach that can ground you. He licks a long stripe down your sopping slit, keeping his sharp eyes on you the whole time.

“F-feels so fucking good Tae!” You almost scream. He cups his lips around your swollen nub sucking on it with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You’re too dazed to comment on it, reeling in the new pleasures you’re experiencing. You stare down at him, your eyes half opened and so close to rolling to the back of your head.

However, they almost completely open wide at the sight presented before you. With two long fingers, Taehyung is shoving them in his mouth, soaking them with his spit before rubbing them onto your sensitive folds.

You beg. “Put them inside.. Please.” Taehyung doesn’t make a sound only kissing your clit as he plunges his ring decorated fingers into you.

You’re so wet his fingers slide into you with ease. He groans at the sensation, his view focused on the way your cunt greedily sucks him in.

“Look at you, getting my rings all dirty you filthy girl”, he scolds watching the way your essence drips into the crevices of his intricate jewellery. 

Taehyung increases the pace of his long fingers, finger fucking you into euphoria. He doesn’t stop there, his lips returning to your desperate clit in a wet mess of your juices and his saliva.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach. It's hot and feels so unlike any other upcoming orgasm you’ve experienced. His fingers curl inside of you, his palm slapping your folds with his rapid pace and his lips don’t give any sign of stopping.

“Taehyung- Tae, I’m cumming!” You really scream this time, your orgasm taking control over your body like a demon. 

You swear your eyes black out, your body shaking, a warmth gushing out of your cunt as it spazzes out.

Your chest heaves and you blink, feeling a damp pool around you. Oh God, Did you piss yourself?

“Holy fuck Y/N, I can’t believe you just did that.”

You sit up, embarrassed, an apology falling from your lips.

“You just squirted on me.”

You’re flushed, “I- what?”

Taehyung almost looks akin to a wolf hunting down his prey. “That was the hottest fucking experience of my life, holy shit I’m so hard.”

Well at least you didn’t pee on his couch. There’s a surge of overwhelming need for his cock to be inside of you. You’ve never felt this way before, it’s scary but so is this whole experience. It’s definitely one for the books.

Getting up on your knees you hold onto his shoulders, Taehyung raises a brow. “Fuck, I need to ride you, can I ride you?”

You think you just saw his dick twitch at your words. He grins, “just for practice?”

Your smile is sickly sweet, “of course, just for practice.”

His arms are strong when he shuffles into a seated position all while holding your hips above his awaiting cock.

He pauses, a flash of his normal self resurfacing. “You’re on the pill yeah?”

You peck his lips, “yes, now stuff me full.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s sinking you down onto his length. 

You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being complete. The stretch hurts so bad but hurts so good. He fills you up so well it has you speechless, the air trapped inside your lungs refusing to be released until your walls are comfortable around his impressive girth.

Mumbling a soft curse, you swivel your hips in slow circles, getting used to his large size. Taehyung watches you, hunger written on his face as he licks his lips and examines the way you fit so perfectly on his lap.

You test the waters, holding onto his shoulders for support. You lift your hips and settle back onto his lap. He groans at the wet squelch it makes and slaps your ass, grabbing it in his hand to squeeze it.

You pick up the speed, pumping up and down, whimpering at how well he fills you up. You keep your gaze trained on the image of his dick disappearing in your heat and pulling out with a wet sheen.

Taehyung tucks a finger under your chin, bringing you close to his face to push his soft lips onto yours once again.

It’s weird to say, but you don’t think you can get tired of kissing your best friend. He knows exactly what you want and knows exactly how to make your head spin.

With his large hands of yours, you pick up the pace, slamming your ass onto his hips. You leave his lips, kissing the side of jaw and suckling a few lovebites behind his ear.

His voice is deep and sultry, “fuck yeah, that’s it.” You wail in his hold, pushing yourself to meet his thrusts below. Your thighs burn but the pleasure burns so much hotter.

You feel your second orgasm of the night rising within you and can tell Taehyung is close too. Taehyung assists you, using his thighs to push up into you. Your juices drip down onto his pelvis and both of your breaths get heavier.

His thrusts are fast and rough, creating loud slapping noises that echo around his empty apartment. He grunts, folding his head into the crook of your neck. He’s about to cum and so are you.

With one final gasp your release hits you like a truck. Your thigh shakes in his lap and Taehyung bites at the delicate skin of your neck. His warm seed shoots inside of you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips.

Taehyung releases his hold to lean back onto the couch. He keeps his softening cock inside of you, lazily staring at your fucked out expression.

You play with his rings, “well, how did I do?”

The shit-eating grin is back. “Hmmm, I think you may need more practice.”

[cherienymphe]

Cruel Intentions (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, manipulation, mentions of abuse, therapist!Steve, silverfox!Steve, drugging

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ Image by @angrybirdcr

      ➥ dividers by @firefly-graphics

This is for the “For the Fic” challenge whose winner for my fic was @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

The entire plot was her request and I hope that you like it!

summary: after escaping an abusive ex, you find solace in a therapist recommended to you by a friend. 

~

“...I know I shouldn’t...but sometimes I blame myself. In Harry, I know that I was looking for what I never had in my family. I think it made me quick to rush into things...to ignore what I should have seen.”

Your eyes remained on the dark carpet, the man before you humming as the scribbling sound of his pen reached your ears. You fought hard not to fidget, a horrible habit you’d picked up in the last 3 years. You finally lifted your head again when the room was bathed in silence, eyes meeting familiar blue ones as he studied you.

You were used to these short moments of silence by now.

You’d been recommended to Dr. Steve Rogers by a friend, a friend who’d helped you escape your violent ex in the dead of night while he’d been away on business. She had grown worried when it became obvious that the effects of your tumultuous relationship would be lasting if you didn’t do something about it. Oddly enough, you’d been receptive. For 2 whole years, you’d wanted to tell someone, have anyone to turn to and talk to, but fear, a very valid fear, had stopped you.

Not only had you been worried for your life, something that was threatened on a constant basis, but you’d also been afraid of judgement. You worried what your friends would say, if they’d blame you for finding yourself in such a predicament, if they’d look down on you for no longer fighting back. It was only by a stroke of luck that Nakia had seen Harry slap you right across the face when he thought she’d left. You were grateful that she’d waited for him to leave before rushing towards your trembling frame, pulling you into her arms as she shushed you.

She had demanded to know how long this had been going on. She had been horrified and confused and angry. It didn’t take her long to come up with a plan, and within 2 weeks, after waiting for Harry to leave the city for 2 days, she’d gotten you out and into her place across town. You didn’t stay for long, maybe a few weeks, wanting nothing but to put it all behind you, and although she was sad to see you go, she understood.

It was how you found yourself in upstate New York, in a secluded tiny thing of a house. You hadn’t even realized that you’d become something of a recluse until Nakia had pointed it out during one of your weekly calls. It had never hit you that you went to work and to home and that was it. You barely ate anymore, so grocery shopping was never a frequent affair. That was when she’d told you about a well known therapist in the area, Steven G. Rogers. You had been shocked by how much you weren’t opposed to the idea as she went on listing all of his credentials. 

It was only moments after she hung up that you found yourself researching him yourself. You remembered noting how handsome the man was, even more so in person. His bright blue eyes and silver tresses complimented his strong features nicely, pink lips pulled up into a polite smile. You didn’t find yourself put off by the stranger, thinking to yourself that talking to someone you didn’t know, an objective listener who was paid not to judge you, might be for the best.

You soon found out that was easier said than done.

The first visit had been rocky, barely mumbling a thing and constantly fidgeting. You had hardly been able to meet his eye, and the session had abruptly ended when you’d left early, stumbling over your words as you gave some half assed excuse for your sudden departure. He was far more understanding than you deserved during your second visit. Wracked with guilt and anxiety, you’d written some things down that you wanted to talk about, and thankfully, the man hadn’t laughed at you. In fact, you remembered how fondly he looked at you as you unfolded it.

As it turned out, you didn’t need the slip of paper at all. Notes forgotten, you had rambled on for an hour. It was like once you started, you just couldn’t stop, and Steve simply listened the entire time. The next time he spoke to you was only to tell you that your time was up, and both embarrassment and disappointment had flooded through you. It must have been obvious, plain as day on your features, because Steve reassured you that it was normal to ramble. 

You had been reluctant to leave. After years of biting your tongue and living in fear of even making the wrong sound, you finally found someone to listen. Even if it was only a stranger getting paid for it, it was still something. There was someone to express your fears to, and although it had taken some time, terrified that you’d say the wrong thing and upset him, eventually, you started to express your anger too.

“...and then I get angry all over again,” you continued when he said nothing. “...because I’m smart, because red flags in others’ relationships have always been so obvious to me. I’ve always been the mom friend, the one who can spot trouble before it even starts. I’ve helped friends get out of situations before they even had the chance to turn sour…”

You shook your head.

“...and yet...it took a slap to the face to realize just how deep I was in? Not the jealousy, not the anger issues nor the way he’d isolated me from just about everyone in my life...but a slap? It should’ve never gotten to that.”

“You can’t blame yourself for the actions of others.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d told you that, and yet here you were again.

“We can go in circles analyzing your own behavior and the things you did and the things you said, but the truth is that you could play it out in your head a million times. You could do every single thing differently, and it still wouldn’t change a thing.”

The corner of his lips lifted into a crooked smile, a familiar sight.

“Some people are simply cruel, and it has nothing at all to do with you.”

You sharply inhaled, unsure of why such a simple statement resonated with you so deeply. You stared at Steve, blinking a few times, opening your mouth to respond when he glanced at the clock. It was a tell tale sign, and your shoulders sagged. You would think that after seeing him for 7 months now, you’d be used to leaving after only an hour, but it never got easier.

“That’s all the time we have for today,” he said, standing. “You’re progressing nicely, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, and he chuckled, eyes crinkling. 

“You are. Progress and healing isn’t linear. Sometimes you’re going to take 2 steps back before you can take 10 more forward. It’s all part of the process,” he assured you.

You sighed.

“Well… I guess that does make me feel a bit better,” you replied.

He sent you a small smile as he guided you towards the door.

“I’ll see you next week?”

You returned his smile with a nod and didn’t let your face fall until the door was shut behind you. The good thing about therapy was that you could recognize your own toxic behaviors now, and it was clear that you were becoming reliant on your sessions with Steve. You had never liked being alone, but you had come all the way out here to learn to do just that. For your sake, you needed to learn to love being alone. It was how you had gotten into this mess to begin with.

Your phone vibrated with a call from an unknown number, and figuring it was a scam call, you silenced it.

Your house was practically in the middle of nowhere, so when the tv wasn’t blasting or you didn’t have Spotify playing some light tune, the house could get scarily quiet. But that was what you wanted...right? Harry had always been so explosive. The smallest of things could set him off and then the sound of yelling and shattering glass would rain down on you. Silence and solitude was what you wanted, needed.

Your phone buzzed again as you settled into your car, and you huffed when you noticed it was the same number. Again, you weren’t unfamiliar with scam callers so you ignored it. You noted that you needed to go grocery shopping, but you weren’t on the precipice of starvation just yet, so it could hold off for another day. By the time you got inside, your phone had started to buzz again, and with a frown, you decided to answer it.

“Hello?”

You were met with silence as you unlocked your door, and you repeated yourself, but there was no response. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You both loved and hated coming home. It was quiet and safe and everything you had craved for years now, but the unfamiliarity of it all unnerved you. Sometimes you were just waiting for Harry to come flying through the door, screaming and breaking things. You had to remind yourself that this silence, this security, is how it’s supposed to be.

You went about making a quick meal, hopping into the shower while leaving the stove on low. When you got out, in the process of moisturizing your arms, you noticed your phone buzzing with another call. From that same number. Unease filled you as you neared it, and you hesitantly reached for it before answering.

Again, you were met with silence, and frustrated and annoyed, you simply blocked the number. A quick look through your phone revealed that you’d missed several calls from the same number while in the bathroom. Blinking with a deepening frown, you set your phone down and made your way to your kitchen. Dinner, like always these days, was quiet. You curled up on the couch with your plate while you watched some old sitcom.

The rest of the night passed as blandly as it always did. Sleep was much easier to find these days, so you had no trouble as soon as your head hit the pillow. However, just as you were on the verge, your phone buzzed with another call. This number didn’t match the previous one, but it was unknown nonetheless. With a groan, you put your phone on silent and rolled over, sleep claiming you.

“I know it’s you,” you sneered into the phone.

Unsurprisingly, you were met with the faint sound of breathing, and you clenched your jaw. You slammed the car door behind you before stomping across the parking lot.

“I know it’s you,” you quietly repeated. “Stay away from me.”

You hung up before blocking the number, the 10th number you had blocked in the past week. Every few hours or so a day, like clockwork, you got calls from an unknown number. You’d always end up blocking the number after the first few calls, but they always called again from a different one. At first, they’d say nothing, and you’d listen to silence for a few seconds before hanging up. Now, they’d taken to breathing in your ear like a creep. It wasn’t even until you blocked the 3rd number did it finally hit you.

Harry.

Harry freaking Osborn.

You felt like such an idiot for not putting it together sooner. Of course, it was Harry. Was this not the same man who threatened to hunt you down and drag you back like some animal if you ever left him? You had always equated woman beaters to cowards so you never thought he’d have the nerve to actually do it. Putting the pieces together didn’t bring you any comfort. Your filthy rich abusive ex had managed to track you down. What comfort was there to find in that?

Since that day, you hadn’t had a proper night of sleep. Your mind was constantly at war with itself on what to do. Having been down this road before, you knew the police would be no help. You’d gone to them once before, at the very beginning after the first time he’d hit you. It was your first harsh lesson that money ruled over everything. If you thought hard enough, you could still recall his hands around your throat, eyes alight with anger at what you’d tried to pull.

Still, you considered at least trying to get a restraining order but at the end of the day, that was a mere piece of paper. If Harry came to your door, it wasn’t going to stop him from hurting you, and that’s even if the whole process went through. They don’t just give restraining orders out willy nilly. You tried not to dwell on that hypothetical situation, but if he’d found your number, it would only be a matter of time before he found your address.

“Oh!”

You’d only just entered the grocery store, barely stepping into an aisle when you bumped into someone. The chips and bread in his hands went flying to the floor, and apologies tumbled from your lips. It was only after you helped him pick up what you made him drop did you realize who you’d run into.

“Dr. Rogers...hi,” you breathed.

The corner of his lips pulled into a crooked smile, head tilting to the side as his gaze fell onto you.

“We’ve discussed this before, Y/N. You’re more than welcome to call me Steve,” he told you.

You gave a nervous chuckle, nodding.

“Yeah...uh… I normally do, it just...it just slipped my mind,” you replied.

He blinked at you, eyes narrowing just a bit as he studied you. His brows furrowed in that concerned way you were used to, a silver strand of hair kissing his forehead.

“Everything okay…?”

You folded your arms over your chest, nodding with a strained smile.

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. “It’s just… It’s been a weird week. Our next session cannot come fast enough.”

You forced a light laugh, and he joined you. He placed a hand on his hip, eyes boring into your own.

“There’s a coffee shop just over there,” he gestured. “Did you want to sit and have a chat?”

You frantically shook your head.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t,” you told him. “I-.”

“I know I’m your therapist, but I want you to think of me as a confidant outside of the office too. You’re more than welcome to talk to me anytime. In fact, I encourage it,” he interrupted. 

You nervously eyed him with a frown.

“Are...are you sure?”

His smile was comforting.

“This may be my job, but it’s one I chose because it’s one I enjoy. I don’t want you to feel like you’re only allowed to talk to me during our sessions,” he quietly said.

You bit your lip, and Steve continued.

“I’d hate to think that you’re bottling things up for days on end, suffering in silence because you’re just waiting to talk to me,” he confessed.

Your shoulders sagged, and you hesitantly nodded.

“...okay. I just need to get a few things for the house.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “You know where to find me.”

You parted ways, and a sigh escaped you. You really didn’t want to become reliant on Steve. Wasn’t the whole point of therapy to learn how to process your feelings and cope with them better? Running to your therapist every time you have a problem just seemed counterproductive. And yet, once your car was loaded up with the few items you bought, you found yourself making your way to the coffee shop.

After ordering a small drink, you easily spotted Steve at a table in the back. You noted that even outside of your sessions, he still dressed nicely. The dark button down he wore contrasted with his light hair, dark slacks making him appear taller. You felt simultaneously nervous and comforted as you settled across from him. There was a brief silence, one in which you sipped on your drink while he eyed you before finally speaking.

“So what’s on your mind?”

What a loaded question. You struggled over whether or not to tell him the truth. Your abusive ex had found you somehow and was currently harassing you. That’s not something you could just casually drop into the conversation. Besides, Steve was your therapist, not your friend. You didn’t think it fair to rope him into the drama with your ex. That wasn’t part of his job description. Right?

“Just sleepless nights,” you said.

It wasn’t a complete lie. Steve eyed you like he was waiting for you to continue, blue eyes soft.

“I’m also worried that...my past might not remain in the past.”

Once again, this wasn’t a complete lie. 

“How so?” Steve hummed.

“I can’t help but wonder about what will happen if Harry finds me. He always threatened that he would if I ever left, and while I never believed him before, I just keep wondering… What if he does?”

Steve tilted his head at you, and you leaned back in your seat with a sigh.

“I’ve moved all the way out here to get away from him. I’ve isolated myself because I thought it was for the best, but it would have the opposite effect if he ever found me. I’ve never been particularly close with my family as you well know, and I’ve left all of my friends. I’m all alone here, and it’s the worst thing to be if he ever did track me down.”

Like always, you had started to ramble, and you snapped your mouth closed, embarrassment flooding through you.

“What brought all of this on?”

Steve’s eyes were sincere as he ran them over you, handsome face twisted in concern, and you glanced away.

“Just thinking,” you lamely replied, eyes on your drink now. “It’s something I’ve always thought about, sure, but it’s been more pressing as of late.”

“Well...that’s what I’m here for. You shouldn’t have to deal with these thoughts alone,” he eventually said.

“I know,” you sighed, rubbing your temples. “...but I shouldn’t become so reliant on you. The whole point of therapy is to learn to deal with these things on my own, is it not?”

Steve exhaled, leaning back in his seat as he gazed at you.

“Not necessarily. Not always,” he answered. “...but even then, until you can get to that point, it’s best to lean into your support. After all, you’ve gotta crawl before you can walk, right?”

You nodded, taking in his words.

“...and even when you’re walking, you usually need someone there in the beginning to hold your hand in case you fall. I encourage you to talk to your friends more, maybe even branch out and find some friends here, but I’m here as well. Don’t halt any of your progress because you feel like you need to be dealing with this alone. Outside help does more for your progress than you’d think.”

“I guess that does make sense. I don’t know… I just- I’d feel so bad about showing up at your office throughout all hours of the day or calling your receptionist-.”

You cut yourself off when he took out a pen and a slip of paper.

“Here,” he said, scribbling a number on it before handing it to you. “This is my personal number.”

Your eyes widened. 

“Oh, I can’t-.”

“It’s fine, trust me.”

You hesitantly returned his smile, taking the piece of paper.

“Don’t hesitate to call me anytime you want to,” he told you, standing.

You joined him, fingering the note before sliding it into your pocket.

“Thank you…Steve. I don’t know if I’ll ever actually call you, but just knowing that I have the option makes me feel so much better,” you whispered.

You heard his pager go off, and you watched as he glanced at it. He let out a sigh, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded disappointed.

“I’ve got to go, but I hope you’ll use that number if you need to.”

Thanking him again, you said your goodbyes, and you watched as he exited the shop. The slip of paper felt heavy in your pocket, so you solved that by putting his number into your phone. Just as you were about to put it back into your purse, it buzzed with a call from an unknown number. Fear settled into your gut, and with a grimace, you silenced the call and blocked the number.

You were late. You were so late it was laughable to even show up at this point. Your shoes tapped against the tile as the numbers on the elevator lit up as it passed each floor. You slipped through the doors as soon as they parted, and with no mind to check in, the receptionist calling your name, you raced towards Steve’s office. You reached his door just as he opened it to step out, and the papers that he was holding scattered to the floor as you collided with him. You hadn’t even realized how fast you’d been running until you were knocked on your ass. 

You could hear the heels of the receptionist as she ran over, apologizing to Steve for letting you slip past her, but he waved her off. She reluctantly returned to her desk, and you scrambled to sit up, reaching for everything that had fallen.

“I was beginning to think you’d never show,” Steve joked.

You gave a shaky laugh.

“I uh...I got caught up,” you replied through trembling lips, fingers shaking as you struggled to stack all of his paperwork.

You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but you avoided his gaze.

“I know I’m late. Our hour is practically over, but I- I just… Um, crap.”

You had dropped the papers all over again, and you both reached for them at the same time. At least, that was what you thought. Steve’s hands covered yours, and you only just realized how badly they were shaking.

“Y/N.”

His voice was soft, exactly what you needed right now, but you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

Your chest was tight, and you wanted to will your lips to form a yes. You wanted to tell him that everything was fine, but you couldn’t even get the words out. He called your name again, and you suddenly stood, taking the papers with you. You handed them to him as he followed your lead, still avoiding his eye.

“I’m sorry for being late, and I know that you probably have another session-.”

“I don’t,” he interrupted. “Come in.”

You glanced up from beneath your lashes as he opened the door, ushering you inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he shut the door behind you.

“Is everything okay?”

You turned your face away from him, unable to keep it from crumbling as you held in a sob.

“Y/N.”

The way he called your name had you freezing in place, a shiver running through you at his firm tone, authority in the one simple word. In a way, it reminded you of Harry, and you looked to him with wide eyes. Seeming to understand what he’d done, Steve sighed before sitting down, making himself appear smaller to show that he wasn’t a threat to you.

“I’m sorry,” he genuinely apologized. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please...sit.”

You hesitantly did so and reached out to take the tissue he offered you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d started crying.

“Now… I’m going to ask you again, and I’m begging you to please be honest with me. I’m here to help you in any way I can,” he whispered.

You wiped your face, sinking your teeth into your lip.

“It’s...Harry.”

Steve’s face was pinched with concern.

“What is it? Are you having nightmares again-?”

“No, you don’t understand. He’s calling me,” you confessed.

Steve froze, blinking a few times before his eyes widened, your words finally registering. You sniffed, fighting to hold in a sob.

“It started weeks ago, before we ran into each other that night…”

You didn’t miss the disappointment that flitted over his features, lips pressed together.

“...and I know I should’ve said something then-.”

“You should’ve called me.”

“I know! I know, but… I don’t know. I just wanted to handle this on my own,” you quietly said.

He didn’t respond, and you turned your eyes towards the window.

“Last time...I wasn’t able to get away on my own. I wanted it to be different this time. At first, I simply blocked him but he kept calling and calling from different numbers. Then I got a new phone...and eventually another, but it’s still the same. He keeps finding me,” you tearfully told him. “...and today…”

Your eyes met his, and you were comforted by the concern you saw there.

“Today I was at the police station. That’s why I was late.”

Steve straightened up at this.

“I thought that maybe I could get a restraining order or maybe they could trace the calls to show that it’s him, but the whole visit was useless. They boiled it down to petty relationship drama, and since there’s no record of his violent behavior because I never reported anything…”

You shrugged, scoffing.

“There’s basically nothing they can do. The whole visit was a waste,” you spat.

Steve heaved a sigh, and he slowly reached out towards you, leaning forward.

“I didn’t ask before, but… Is it alright if I hold your hand?”

You nodded. That was what you liked about Steve. He was always asking for your consent with just about everything, even the simplest of things, and it was such a nice contrast to Harry who used to feel like he was entitled to your body. Steve took your hand, throwing you a comforting smile as he eyed you, worried.

“I wish that you had called me,” he said.

You looked down, guilt filling you.

“I could have helped you before it ever got to this point. I have friends on the force, friends in high places who could lock this creep up if you wanted.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

Of course Steve, Dr. Steven Rogers, knew people who could help you. Of course he did! Your stubbornness had gotten you far deeper into this than necessary. 

“What have I said about self deprecating language?”

“Sorry,” you murmured.

“You’re not an idiot. Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re just a woman trying to find her strength again.”

You hesitantly nodded, and he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I want you to get rid of your phone,” he suggested.

You frowned, and he continued before you could question him.

“I’ll work on getting a new one for you. A secure one under my name.”

You frowned, not liking the idea of being so indebted to him.

“Steve, I don’t know-.”

“It’ll only be temporary. You can use it until I talk to some people and have him properly dealt with.”

Even though you weren’t keen on the idea, you reluctantly agreed.

“...and you have to promise me one thing…”

You eyed him, holding his gaze as you waited for him to continue.

“Promise me that you’ll call me the second he bothers you again,” he proposed.

Accepting the fact that your stubbornness was doing you more harm than good, you nodded. Steve seemed pleased with that, and with one last pat on your hand, he let you go. As he guided you out of your office, your phone in his hand, you felt more hopeful than you had in over a month. You felt so silly for not seeking out his help sooner, and you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders as you settled into your car.

True to his word, at your next session, Steve presented you with a new phone. It had all of your important contacts with Steve being at the top of the list. Embarrassment had flooded you as you thanked him with tears in your eyes. The week without your phone had been the most peace you’d had in a while, and you finally got some much needed rest.

“You haven’t heard anything from him, have you?” he’d asked you.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Not a peep.”

He threw you that same smile that always brought you comfort.

“Good. Even if you never do, you’re always free to call me,” he’d reminded you.

Finally deciding to let your stubbornness go, you did. Talking to Steve outside of your sessions was easier than you thought it’d be. It was like talking to a friend. Sometimes you’d meet up at that same coffee shop not too far from his office, and other times you’d be putting a quick meal together while he was on the other line, listening to you ramble. You soon realized that it wasn’t just his profession that made him that way, but Steve truly was an unbiased listener. He never judged you for any steps back in your progress nor for any of your more self deprecating thoughts.

Best of all, you hadn’t heard anything more from Harry.

Not until he knocked on your door one night.

It was late when you’d heard the pounding on the wood, and having been watching tv in your room, you wondered if you imagined it. It was only moments later that you’d heard it again. Your eyes had widened, sitting up in alarm. No one knew you lived here. Not even your mailman. All of your mail collected at a Post Office box before you eventually went to pick it up. You stood, standing in your room, trembling in fear before a knock on your bedroom window had you screaming.

You didn’t hesitate to call the police, and it took longer than you liked for them to arrive. All the while, you dealt with knocking and pounding on your window and door. Back and forth, it alternated with minutes in between before stopping altogether when the sound of sirens could be heard. Unsurprisingly, and frustratingly, the police didn’t find anyone.

“Look, we’ll get this report down to the station,” the brunette had told you, not looking concerned in the least.

Frustration filled you, and you shuffled on your feet.

“Can’t you...idk, have someone stay here? Not even the whole night but just a few hours in case they come back?”

The tall man sighed, and you glanced at his badge. Officer Barnes, you noted.

“With all due respect mam, we can’t just have one of our officers sitting in your yard because someone knocked on your door-.”

“I told you-!”

“I know, I know. The windows too,” he said, sounding exasperated, and your frown deepened. “The best we can do is get this down to the station. You’re more than welcome to call us again should anyone come back.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as they left, finding no relief. You swallowed as you thought about Steve. You didn’t want to, but Harry had found you, tormenting you by knocking on your house in the dead of night. This was exactly the reason Steve had given you his number. Swallowing down your stubbornness, and with a deep breath, you called him.

He didn’t sound like he was asleep, and for that you were grateful. You would’ve kicked yourself if you had woken him up. Finally getting out why you’d called him was an awkward affair, stumbling over your words, and you felt even worse as he agreed to come over. There was no hesitation, and you couldn’t help but feel as if you were taking advantage of Steve’s generosity. 

You mumbled out your address, surprised to realize how relieved you were. You couldn’t remember the last time you had trusted a man this much. Harry had made you so paranoid, but you supposed that was what therapy was for. This was why you had all those sessions with Steve. To learn to heal and to trust again.

You opened the door with a small smile when he finally pulled into your yard. He was dressed comfortably, and you felt much better about your own ratty t-shirt and leggings, but his casual attire made him no less striking. 

“Thank you,” you breathed as he stepped inside.

“I was up going over paperwork when you called. I’m glad you did,” he told you.

You leaned against the door as you closed it, rubbing your arms.

“I didn’t know if I should. It’s just… He was here, Steve. Knocking on my door and window like something out of a horror movie, and the police treated it like it was nothing,” you complained.

Steve tilted his head at you with a sad smile.

“First thing in the morning, I’m going to make some more calls. Since he’s in town, it should be easy to have him put away. At the very least, a restraining order.”

Relief and hope filled you as you brushed past him.

“I really can’t thank you enough for coming over. I promise I won’t keep you long, just until I feel I can be ok being alone,” you said over your shoulder.

He followed you into the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Eat? It’s the least I can do.”

“Some wine might be nice. You might want to pour yourself a glass too,” he suggested.

You chuckled, and he joined you, but you agreed with him nonetheless. You poured a glass for both of you, and you leaned against the counter with a sigh.

“I just don’t understand why he can’t leave me alone. Hasn’t he put me through enough?”

Steve hummed.

“From what you’ve told me, he strikes me as a narcissist. I’d bet that he doesn’t want you to move on,” he mused.

“Maybe,” you distractedly replied as you heard your phone ring. “I’ll be right back. Let me grab that super quick, it might be Nakia.”

Your phone was in your room, but by the time you reached it, it had stopped ringing. Sure enough, it was a missed call from your best friend, and you brought your phone with you to the kitchen, determined to call her back. Steve’s eyes were fond when you returned, and you shrugged.

“I need to call her back. I’ll only be a moment,” you said, swiping your glass.

“Take all the time you need.”

You made your way to the living room, taking your place on the couch as you called her back. She answered almost immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She greeted you with a soft exhale.

“Uh… Harry’s...dead.”

You froze at her words, pulling the glass away from your lips. You blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with what she’d said.

“...what?”

“I just found out. I honestly didn’t know how you’d take the news, but I thought you should know.”

She was right. You yourself didn’t even know how you felt about this news. You had loved this man at one point...but he was also your abuser. This was good news...right?

“How?” you finally asked her.

She sighed.

“Apparently, he’d been missing for months-.”

“Months?”

“Yeah,” she quietly replied. “They found and identified his body today. I just saw it on the news.”

Your stomach twisted as the truth, and the meaning behind it, sank in. Just because Harry had been missing for months, it didn’t mean that he’d been dead for months. It very well could have been him harassing you like you believed. But...if they’d found and identified his body today, then there was no way it was him at your house tonight.

“Thank you,” you eventually said. “Um… I’m glad you told me.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you honestly replied. “I’m just a little unsure of how I feel about all of this, but I’ll call you tomorrow when I’ve slept on it.”

“Alright. Be safe.”

You said your goodbyes and returned to the kitchen with an empty glass.

“Everything okay?” Steve questioned.

Your face must have been an open book.

“Harry’s dead,” you scoffed, blinking as you still fought to process this.

Steve didn’t respond, and just like one of your sessions, he seemed to be waiting for you to continue.

“Apparently he’d been missing for months and they just identified his body today. There’s no way it could have been him knocking on my door tonight, and now...now I’m even more scared than I was before,” you confessed. “God, I can’t even fully come to terms with my feelings on this because I’m realizing that Harry might not have been the only thing I should’ve been afraid of.”

“Hey,” Steve soothingly said, nearing you. “Are you sure it wasn’t someone who got lost? Maybe they had the wrong house?”

You thought about it before shaking your head.

“No, it definitely didn’t seem like that. Oh my God,” you cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

Steve pulled you into his arms, startling you, but you eventually relaxed, the wine settling into your system nicely.

“It’s going to be alright-.”

“What if it isn’t? Because I’m the idiot who thought that Harry was the only possible danger out there, I’ve attracted another without even realizing it.”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “Maybe it was nothing, and maybe it was more. Either way, I’m only a phone call away. Say the word, and I’ll have an officer living in your yard if need be.”

You chuckled at that, and nodded.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at him. “I-.”

You swallowed your words when his lips met yours, soft and demanding as they moved against your own. You were stunned, and it took you a moment to realize just what was happening before you pulled away. You stared at Steve with wide eyes, hesitantly reaching up to touch your lips as you took a step back.

“Steve…”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed.

Your lips parted, a soft gasp escaping you at both his words and the fire in his gaze. It was so sudden and great that it froze you.

“Steve, I think… I think you should go,” you whispered, almost in disbelief.

He frowned at you, tilting his head just a tad as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Go? Why would I do that when you’re not feeling well?”

You opened your mouth to repeat yourself, even demand to know what he meant, but a sudden wave of nausea hit you, head feeling fuzzy. Steve caught you just as you stumbled, and you frowned, fighting to get out of his arms.

“What…?”

“You seemed really tense. I thought you could use something to take the edge off…”

You stared at him in disbelief, attempting to blink away the stars in your vision. Your legs felt like they were made of Jell-O as Steve guided you towards the living room. He deposited you on the couch, and you could hardly do anything as he laid you down, sitting beside you. His blue eyes, normally so soft and comforting, were dark with a longing you had never seen before.

“You were like a wounded little lamb when you first came to me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your lip. “So lost...broken… It’s because of me that you’re even halfway back together again.”

His hands moved to slowly undress you, taking his time, and your hands might as well had been air as you tried to stop him. You shuddered as the cool air in the house hit you, nipples pebbling, even more so when Steve brushed his fingers over them.

“I wanted to wrap you in my arms during that first session. Drag you back as you tried to leave, show you how a woman should be touched by a man.”

You were in a state of shock, disbelief coursing through you as you watched Steve undress. Even at his age, the man was a wall of muscle, thick bands making you swallow in fear as you hopelessly tried to tell yourself that this was a dream.

“Steve,” you whispered.

“I had to be patient. I didn’t want to scare you off, push you into the arms of another dangerous man. I had to help you heal before showing the kind of man I can be for you,” he told you, fingers on your face as he neared you again.

Your whole body felt weighed down, and you couldn’t stop your tears even if you wanted to. Your touch was light as you pressed your hands to his chest, feeling like you were going to be sick as he settled over you.

“Harry is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore, and I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

The irony was not lost on you, but the way he said that struck something in you, and your mind traveled to the unthinkable. You didn’t get the chance to think about it some more before Steve was forcing himself inside of you. A choking noise escaped you as he filled you to the hilt, your legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. Steve released a shuddering breath, breathing through his nose, body trembling as he delighted in the feel of you wrapped around him.

It was amazing that while all of your senses felt dulled, you could feel his pulsing member inside of you so well. He surrounded you, bulky frame caging you in, and you felt like you would pass out from suffocation. Steve sighed just before his lips met yours, and your stomach clenched as he moved within you. A broken moan slipped out against your will, and Steve groaned at the sound.

“I’ll show you pleasure that you’ve never known, touch you in ways you never felt. I know how to make you happy,” he purred, his pace languid as he thrust in and out of you.

You turned your head away, the furniture of your living room blurring together from whatever he’d slipped into your drink.

“I know your deepest desires and your deepest fears. I know you better than anyone else out there…”

You hated that in a way, Steve was right. You’d bared yourself to him under the guise of trust and healing. He really did know all there was to know about you, and you hated yourself for it. You hated him for hiding his intentions so well, for taking advantage of your vulnerability and trauma. He tutted as you started to squirm beneath him.

“After all I’ve done for you...in all the ways I’ve helped you, the least you could do is give yourself to me. I deserve to reap the benefits of my efforts-.”

You gasped beneath him, legs kicking around him, but he only pressed himself more firmly against you.

“...I’ve gone out of my way to make sure you were safe, to protect you so that no more threats remained to you nor our relationship.”

“You’re crazy-.”

You cut yourself off with a yelp as he nipped at your neck, jerking in his hold as he continued to snap his hips into yours. His hands were gentle on you, a contrast to how he fucked you, his pace increasing with every passing minute. Despite the fact that you could hardly move, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you in place as the sound of your coupling filled the room, your core now wet and slick from his ministrations.

Steve seemed intoxicated, blissfully immersed in the feel of you and how you clung to him. His low groans and moans filled your ear, and you could do nothing as he covered your lips again, tongue tasting you, moaning at the taste of wine that still remained.

“My touch will never cause you harm, bringing you nothing but pleasure for the rest of our lives.”

~

tags:  @xoxabs88xox​ @harryspet​ @readermia​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @nickyl316h​ @captainchrisstan​ @sebabestianstan101​ @villanellevi​ @lokislastlove​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @coconutqueen21​ @hurricanerin​ @hyoyeoniie​ @sherrybaby14​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​ @mandiiblanche​ @gotnofucks​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @doozywoozy​ @sapphirescrolls​ @threeminutesoflife​ @searchforanotherway​ @mcudarklibrary​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @widowsmaximoff​ @nerdygirl8203​  @supernaturalwintersoldier​ @charmed-asylum  @harrysthiccthighss​ @patzammit​

[spinster-sisters]

Midnight. psh

TW: Vampire! Seonghwa, Human! reader, biting, fingering, use of the word "prey" but its mostly metaphorical not kinky ya dig, a pretty graphic description of blood drinking, I've been reading twilight and then they had to go and do the whole sexy vampire thing :(

WC: 1.6k

-

Your eyes crack open with the creak of your bedroom door. You're still almost completely asleep but despite that, you can see a figure moving soundlessly across the floor. In moments the figure moves into the moonlight and you see the shape of a man. Well, he’s far more than a man really.

Before you can make a move the man slinks silently onto your bed, hovering delicately over you, caging you in between his arms. You gulp, opening your mouth to speak but your words are stolen from you, the man has leaned down to your neck and ran his tongue from your collar bones to your jaw. Instantaneously your hands fly up to grip his soft pink locks between your fingers, pulling as has as you like because this man, who wasn’t really a man, was so strong he barely felt it.

“Seonghwa?” You whisper, voice already shuddering from his cold breath on your neck. He places a small peck on the collum of your neck before finally meeting your eyes. You find yourself breathless once again. His eyes were as pitch black as they always were, the gentle streaming moonlight doing nothing to lighten the shade but it made them sparkle. His angled features were so sharp and yet so soft and inviting. Seonghwa had told you that was their purpose. ‘To lure in my unsuspecting prey.’ He had said with a grin. You had felt just as breathless then as you do now.

“What is it darling?” He urged, he knew how quickly he could captivate you and turn your mind blank. You blink at him, hands still locked in his hair, gaping like a fish. In a moment you come to your senses.

“You said you weren’t coming back, that you had to stay away.” You ramble, confusion at what he was even doing here finally setting in. Seonghwa, who had long since perfected his perfect mask, hiding any emotion he might have, only smiled. Instead of a response, he leaned down again to nose along your jugular, inhaling deeply. You took a deep breath yourself, trying to steady it.

“How could I stay away? Not when just the smell of you is enough to make my mouth water.” He mumbles into your skin. You couldn’t help but feel your heartache at his words. Because this man, this beautiful, ethereal, perfect man, didn’t care about you. He cared about your blood.

“Seonghwa, you said that you couldn’t-“ you began, but were cut off.

“I know what I said, I don’t need reminding.” He almost spat when his eyes shot to yours. You sucked in your breath and froze. His kind could turn lethal in seconds should you anger them. Seonghwa stared at you for a moment, before sighing, shaking his head, and by the time he looked back up his perfectly crafted mask has returned with a gentle smile.

“Darling, you can’t really expect a vampire to be able to stay away from their favorite prey do you?” He asked, as he spoke his hand gently caressed the side of your head and you felt your calm. You gave a small head shake ‘no.’

Seonghwa grinned at you, leaning down he pressed his cold lips to yours, and they were still the softest plush you had ever felt. But they were gone a moment later. Seonghwa had pulled away and eased himself under the covers like you. His icy fingers trailed along the hem of your panties, giving your a meaningful look before grinning and pulling them down. You couldn’t help but sigh.

You knew why he was doing this, why he was taking the time to touch you and play with you, he would tell you ‘because your so stunning when I do’ but although those words have you butterflies you knew the truth. Your blood tastes better after you cum. Something about the elevated hormone levels in your blood you could guess. But never the less, as soon as you felt his cold grip spreading your legs apart you remember why you let him. Because it felt too good.

Your hands in his hair tugged at the roots, although it didn’t even make him budge he could tell what you wanted. He leaned into you again, pressing his freezing lips to your again, softly molding them together in the gentlest rhythm. Your legs tried to squeeze together but it did nothing against his grip. Your hips bucked upwards, begging him to touch you where you wanted him most. Your eyes had been shut tight since the moment he kissed you so the anticipation was killing you, not being able to see his moves.

The first touch is always electrifying, his cold fingers brushing against your warm wet folds felt like instant relief and satisfaction. You broke your kiss just enough to mumble your words into his lips.

“Inside.”

You pressed your lips to his again but you felt his grin, and he pulled away to respond.

“So eager darling, I’ve barely touched you.”

He allowed himself to be pulled back to your lips and your kiss was gaining passion. Your lips were moving a little faster and a little messier, but you couldn’t get enough of the taste of him. His long tongue slid between your lips to lap into your mouth, and at the same moment, his touch returned to your cunt. You gasp into the kiss but he does not stop. Running his icy fingers between your folds, as though he were caressing them, exploring as he pleases.

It was simply unfair, you already felt yourself falling to pieces, but you know that if you were to open your eyes Seonghwa would look as perfectly composed as always.

Your mind didn’t stay on that thought for much longer though. Two of Seonghwa’s long slim fingers pushed inside of you. Your whole body shuddered at the sensation of his freezing fingers rubbing against your warm wet walls. Your mouth hung limply open in a whine, but Seonghwa did not stop kissing you if it could even still be called that with how messy it had become.

His fingers were gently prodding your walls, searching for the special spot inside you he knew would make you scream. And when he found it? Scream you did. You practically wailed as soon as he brushed against it, and when he got the reaction he wanted and continued abusing that specific spot with his cold fingers you felt tears well up in the corner of your eyes. Shockwaves of pleasure traveled up your spine with every touch, your back arched and one of your hands flew from his hair to grip his wrists as tight as you could. It would do you no good though, seeing as how your nothing but a weak human pulling on a centuries-old vampire with the strength to rip you in half.

Seonghwa had taken to leaving peck-like kisses across your face, the gentle touches shocking in comparison to the roughness he was giving your cunt. Your eyes fell open and you were greeted with his shining features. You must look a mess, lips swollen and red with tears streaming down your face, but he could never have looked more perfect than he did at that moment. Your body was so hot and pliable, and his was cold and hard as stone. You couldn’t look away, even when the abuse to your walls increased in power, stretching your walls to accommodate his actions. And then his thumb began brushing against your clit as he worked, showing your wrecked state no mercy.

And then it all happened so quickly. You came and came hard. Your body twitched and contorted as waves of painful pleasure rolled through your body, you gripped his wrist as hard as you could but he did not stop his movements. You were screaming and whining with tears in your eyes but all it did was urge him on. You felt as though you had left this world. And then as soon as you began to come back to reality Seonghwa sunk his fangs into your neck.

The first thing you feel is always pain at your skin breaking, but as soon as Seonghwa takes his first gulp it sends you back into euphoria. Seonghwa had told you that most people don’t enjoy being drank from, but you adored the feeling. The pain soothed itself from the touch of Seonghwa’s plush cold lips, and the peasant presser from every suck against your skin was calming. And then the feeling of the blood leaving your veins. You supposed that this is the part most people don’t enjoy, but you liked it, the rush of your warm blood leaving the puncture wounds and the fuzzy feeling in your mind and limps allowed your mind to truly be at ease.

It was always over far too soon. Though based on the blurring at the edge of your vision you expect that Seonghwa had drunk his fill. The room was suddenly darker than you remembered. You felt the weight on the bed shift. Seonghwa slowly rose from it. Ever the gentleman, he moved your head back into your pillow and pulled your covers back up to your neck to protect from the cold in the room. He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead before turning his back.

“Seonghwa?” You call, as you fight against falling asleep.

“Yes, darling?” You hear him call from the dark.

“Don’t stay away,” you reply, though your eyelids were dropping.

“I don’t think I can.” You heard him mumble before the sound of your door shutting rang in the quiet room.

[yanderenightmare]

bitchy bratty catty pretty-girl who gives fuck-all, the school tries to straighten her ways by introducing her to a temporary captured shiggy, who is soooo fucking pissed off at this smug pretty bitch, going to track her down and make her pay!!!! >-< plez Mizz Nightmare

yandere kidnapper ! SHIGARAKI TOMURA

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, dubcon/noncon, abuse, profanity, bullying, anxiety, drugging, kidnapping, abduction

CUTTHROAT

“Wow! Right for the kill?! You’re real cutthroat.”

She wasn’t really surprised to hear that they’d caught him, and unlike many others she wasn’t surprised to hear that they’d be holding him on campus. She had full confidence in both the faculty, the promising Hero-course students, and UA’s security system, knowing damn well it could serve well as a prison not just for the students who went there, such as herself, but for the leader of the League of Villains as well.

To say she felt safe as she walked with Aizawa to meet him would be an understatement. She knew why the teacher had been tasked with taking her there, the intention being to scare her, give her a picture of what scum she would become if she continued down the path of fuck-all she was currently on. But, even though she wanted to rebel against taking any orders, she was feeling something far more superior than the will to fight back, something that trumped safety and laid waste to fear, she was feeling thrill. 

This would be a means to an end, a cure for boredom as well as a way to show once and for all that she was a hopeless cause, maybe then these obsessive heroes would leave her the fuck alone already.

“Wow, you’re really ugly! I mean, they warned me you were, but I could never’ve imagined it’d be this bad!”

She was jeering laughs at the lanky figure who towered over her, his hand wrapped tightly around her throat and his eyes spiraling in disbelief in process of understanding why what was found beneath his fingertips wasn’t turning to ash.

“Aren’t bad guys supposed to be sexy?” Her idiotic rambling only succeeded in confusing him more as she shrugged his seemingly useless normal hand away, walking to sit down on the floor, knowing it would be a while until Aizawa let her out again. “You know, to seduce and lure people into their ranks?” She looked over the meal tray he’d flipped out of her hand before seizing her throat, nothing sharp, no cutlery, no broken glass, just one measly apple. “I’m guessing you’re not in charge of recruiting. I mean… who would ever want to follow your ugly mug?”

She watched in anticipation of what remark he’d hurl her way. She’d heard he was bratty, she’d heard he was the one who could set her straight, divert her from this collision-course she’d set herself out on. Yet, his response was more than disappointing, not at all the tornado of a tantrum she had been preparing for. “You talk too much.” He didn’t even sound at all any provoked by her words, dismissing her as he slowly made to pick up the apple from the ground, checking to see if it was his quirk that was gone or if there was something else afoot, finding his answer in the ashes of the fruit.

“Come on.” She drawled, crossing her legs beneath her, keen eyes looking at him as he too sat back down to lean against the wall, looking only a fair bit of annoyed with her presence, as though she were a stain on his shirt, an inconvenience of some sorts. “You were gonna kill me!” She laughed, his red scrutinizing orbs looking to her with a sneer. “Without a thought, in cold blood, no remorse, even after I gave you food like the mutt you are, the least I can do is spit in your face!” 

He didn’t answer. Eyes still set on her where she sat planted without a single care, annoyed with how comfortable she looked, as though she were in her element, as though she was winning some sort of game, a game that wasn’t even about him as her eyes flittered to the black-glass of the window every now and again.

She clicked her tongue, beginning a new ramble. “Tell me, Shiggy.” She smiled, eyes wicked and gleaming and untamed. “That quirk of yours…”

She might have phrased it all like a question, but Shigaraki could hear it plain and simple, how her one goal was to mock him, poke at him until he burst, and not even for the sake of watching him burst, but for the sake of proving to whomever was on the other side of that glass that they couldn’t tame her. He didn’t need to know her entire story to see that much, how he was being used as a pawn to convert some meaningless pretty-girl.

“Can you control it? Or does everything you touch turn to ash no matter your desire?” It wouldn’t have been out of place if she’d licked her lips with how dripping with venom her words were. “It’s like the Midas touch, isn’t it?”

Her poetic phrasing of his deadly quirk had his eyes narrowing, but he hadn’t much time to think her wording over before she began a new escapade.

“Have you ever fucked anyone, Shiggy?” She didn’t even look at him as she asked, alerting him of what he already knew, how she had no interest in his answer, only his reaction, and the reaction his reaction would beckon from the people in the other room. 

She was trying to rile him up, prove how vicious she could be, prove how she hadn’t a single fuck to give. 

“I bet you’ve never truly touched anyone. How could you? I mean, first…” She laid down on her back with a careless roll, looking to the ceiling, ignoring him if it weren’t for the fact she was talking to him, or about him, or at him. “Who would ever want to fuck you? All those wrinkles and all those scars. You look like the onset of death.” She giggled, and he watched her tits bounce as though they were laughing at him too. “I cannot imagine anyone willingly wanting whatever you have to offer. And even if you force it on them, you’d be bound to fuck up with how much they’d struggle.” You’d think she carried a vendetta toward him, with how personal her attacks were, yet it was all given away with how little she was paying attention to him, as though she’d judged already whatever it was she found interesting and was now done with him. All she remained focused on was creating a show, to see how far she could take it before anyone came in to stop her, how much she could poke until something snapped, how much she could bend until something broke. “Just one slip of the hand and you’re left with your dick only halfway wet in a pile of dust.”

He didn’t know if she knew how correct her imagery was, he guessed she didn’t, he wanted to believe she’d show a bit more restraint then, a bit more unease, more respect. She acted as though she wasn’t trapped in a box with a notorious villain, seemingly unaware of her own stature as well as his. She was nothing but a school-girl and yet she felt comfortable enough in her safety to be lying on her back, flinging insult at the person she was locked in with.

“I don’t see how it could bother you for too long though.” Again, she had him intrigued. “I mean… pretty stupid bitches who’re only worth one fuck anyway can’t really be counted as a loss, can it?”

It was clear she didn’t view herself as one of said pretty stupid bitches, even though a pretty stupid bitch is exactly what she looked like in Shigaraki’s eyes. Perhaps that was her point exactly.

“Have you ever dusted someone who did count as a loss?” She rolled over, head propped up on her elbows, laying in her palms, her feet kicking the air behind her. “You ever fuck up so bad? Committed an irredeemable act? Something so unforgivable even you can’t forgive yourself?” Her eyes were set on him again now. “Do you think about it every day?” Her tone shifted then, to something sadistically sweet. “Does it hurt just as much now as it did then?” Her face split into a grin, eyes ablaze as she observed, searched for a breach in his composure. “What happened to mommy and daddy, Shiggy.” She singsonged, toying with him. “Were they your first victims? Did you cry? Do you still cry? Or did they deserve it?”

Her look was earnest, salacious until she rolled her eyes in boredom at his lack of response.

Sighing, she calmed back down, briefly. “I get it… You don’t want to play with me ‘cause you don’t think I’m a worthy player.” She scoffed as she looked to the side with a melodramatic drag. “You should check yourself. We keep you in a cage, give you food, have you on a leash and collar. You’re nothing but our pet!”

She giggled again, biting her tongue, gnawing on it between the rows of her teeth with her mouth open in a wide smile.

“You know… My quirk is called immunity, but it should really be called repellent.” She looked at her hands then, now kneeling in front of him. Her gaze split like lightning, snapping to look at him again, a catlike smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You and I aren’t that different, are we?” It looked for a second as though she were about to stand up, but the movement fell short as she instead gave way to crawl closer to him, one elegant arm followed by the other, all with the grace of a huntress, a panther easing in for the kill. “In fact… I think I’d go as far and say we’re the exact same…” His eyes didn’t deceive him, this time she did lick her lips, only now her words weren’t dripping with venom, but with some other sickly-sweet nectar. “’Cause…where I never let anyone come close, you let ‘em come close… only for them to die!”

“That’s enough.” He must have closed his eyes the second he felt her breath fan over his face, because he’d missed the time the erasure hero had walked in. “This was a waste of time.” The dark-haired man groaned, disappointed.

“Aw, really?”

She wasn’t in front of him anymore, to his surprising disappointment, though her sweet smell still lingered about him pleasantly.

“And I was just getting to the fun part…” She walked to the threshold of the cell-door, not once indicating she’d turn around and take one final look at him. “Well, anyway… tootles, pet.”

Even as she insulted him, she did it twice over by not returning his gaze.

-

She was still sleeping, she noted as her mind, though still groggy and drowsed out, became lucid enough to start thinking. She was sleeping, yet the sleep felt unsafe, as though her alarm was bound to go off any second, firmly shaking her awake and telling her time was running out for her to get to school. And if she’d slept through the alarm, a teacher was soon to come fetch her. Yet, for now she remained halfway asleep, waiting for an alarm or a knock on the door unknowing of how it would never arrive.

He wasn’t sure if it was the drug that had perhaps made some of her senses dull under the impression, for… surely she should feel that her mouth was stuffed full and made to suck on a rag, surely she should feel that her wrists were tied together behind her back, and how her thighs and legs were secured together in a frog tie, the rough rope, scratchy in texture, and how it scraped against her soft doughy skin. Perhaps he didn’t tie them tight enough. It was hard to get a good grip without accidentally dusting the ropes, but he knew the struggle was worth it, seeing her now, in all her defenseless vulnerable rightful glory.

“Not so tough now…” He taunted at her small sleeping frame. Even with her clothes still on, he knew her naked body was only a mere touch away from him. How he could spread her open without her being able to kick, only wiggle for him, like a worm on a hook. No… that imagery is too ugly to be describing her, when she’s so far from ugly. She’s more like a butterfly trapped on a pin, wings fluttering hopelessly, reduced to nothing but beauty, nothing but a little doll for him to play with, tamper and poke fun at just like how she’d done back when he was captured at UA.

He decided pro putting the blindfold on her, perhaps the product of her bullying him in the cell, her jabs at his appearance subconsciously having gotten to him despite himself wanting to dust them off like he did with everything else. Her comments were sharp, and seemed to have the same type of immunity her body had, where his ego, much like himself, hadn’t the thickest of skin. Besides, she was… so painfully out of his league.

It hardly mattered though, now that he would regain all the control.

She laid on her stomach, face mushed against the mattress. He’d removed the pillows and comforter so she’d be placed like a centerpiece on his little operating table. She looked so harmless now, so sweet, especially tied up the way she was, and with those whimpering moans that were simmering to the surface, breaching her sleep, escorted by her wiggling, her delicious tempting little wiggling, begging for Shigaraki to come introduce himself, now with the turned tables.

“Did you really think I was just gonna let it slide?” Her wiggles came to an abrupt holt, breath caught in her throat, making her choke out a curt gasp through the thickness of her makeshift gag. “Did you think you were safe? Like you were simply spitting on a grave. No ghosts coming to haunt you.” She panicked once she felt the bed dip, four fingers sharp in their venture, sweeping up her back, settling around her neck, drawing out painful sudden studded goosebumps, spreading across her skin like wildfire in a field. “Silly little slut.” She squealed at the feel of his warm breath on her cheek, unable to move away, her head halfway buried in the soft mattress, teeth sinking into the cloth in her mouth when his tongue, wet with drool, large and flat, dragged up her already teary cheek. “Boo.”

Her ears were burning, so much blood gushing and rushing and pooling in her head like a storm, she barely registered him drawing back with that maniacal giggle, where with as trademark as it were, there was no doubt where she was or who she was with. Yet, she hadn’t the time to think about it, she hadn’t the time to regret or answer questions she hadn’t even the time to ask, because as her mind was cooking up chaotic whirlwinds of fear, crippling fear despite being crippled enough already, brutal fear that her gut feeling like acid festering and mind reeling in on itself in such vehemence she felt she might just faint, give out like a light in a blizzard, she was given no time before he was talking again, pushing her even further out on the edge she found herself, stepping on her fingers one by one, with no mercy as she dangled above jagged rock that were sure to spear her like an arrow through a dove.

“You were wrong, you know.” She felt his hands trace a careful set of four fingers down the fabric of her shirt, rubbing into her spine, further pushing the breath from out of her lungs. “I’ve fucked before.” He spoke casually, though peppered in between the notes of nonchalance was found the spiked flavors of spiteful mockery, like the mean girl on campus, like how she usually talks, like how she had spoken to him. “But, what I haven’t done is played with someone’s body the way I’m gonna play with yours.” He listened to her whimper, sobs surely to soon wrack through her body, uncontrollably and thoroughly, making her gasp and choke on nothing but air and fear. “I mean, it’s only fair.” She heard the shrug in his voice, that sarcastic sigh and lightheartedness. “You fuck with me, I fuck with you.” This time he growled and she swore she would piss herself with how scared she was.

He was going to kill her, she knew it, she could feel it crawling up and down her body as though mites were hidden in her clothes. She already sensed him peeling off her skin, flaying her with her screaming. And in those seconds, those hopeless seconds, she wished for death, for it to be quick, painless, like simply snuffing out a light. She nearly prayed, squeezing her eyes shut to pray to that God or Devil she never believed in, never needed as badly as she needed them now. She wished for her heart to give out, for the right vein to pop, for a lung to collapse, anything, just for her to be dead before he had the mind to torture her to death.

“Does that sound fun, pet.” And there she broke, waterworks in full effect, no longer simple silent tears but something that had built under pressure like boiling pot of water, bubbling, soon to be blubbering incoherent sobs out into her gag, all to his vengeful amusement.

He watched her for a moment, one longer than he’d probably intended, despite not having view of her eyes, watching the blindfold wet as her eyes leaked at the complete overwhelming loss of hope, lips sucking on the gag those tears that managed to escape and run down to salt her lips.

“So pretty, aren’t you?” He accused, giving her barefoot a squeeze, making her wiggle with what mobility the bonds allowed her, looking handicapped, as though he’d disintegrated both her arms and legs when he’d simply tied them up where they would be stored safely and out of the way until he deemed it okay for her to use them again, where until then… she’d remain his little immobile toy. “Pretty little girl, all tied up.” He giggled, both amused and pleased, leaning down to tug those locks of hair that had curtained her face behind her ear, making the thin wisps at the back of her neck bristle in alarm. “All alone with the big bad ugly villain.” He bit it out with a smirk, and she swore she felt venom drop where he spit the words on her face. “Pretty girl… dressed in such pretty things.” He mused, tugging on the fabric of her silk pajama shirt, his other hand stroking a thumb over himself and his caged member, the beast behind the boxer, the one she was still so completely unaware of. “To hide her rotten core.”

He snickered some more at the notice of how ticklish she was, or perhaps it wasn’t as much a reflex but rather a violent display of her fear, how she kicked, or tried to kick her legs, once his hand with its lanky slender fingers danced a pattern on the sole of her foot.

“They won’t be of much help to you now…”

It’s was a cute display, seeing her struggle in an attempt to swat away his spidering hand, endearing, had him drooling he realized, but didn’t bother to wipe his chin, instead giving into the urge he had to touch what was so temptingly sprawled out before him.

“I bet you think of these as your armor, don’t you?”

All five of his fingers touched down on her shirt, and soon there was no shirt left to separate his dry course fingers from her warm skin. He nearly let out a gasp as he watched how she stayed in place, having not become a pyramid of ash. Her beautiful body still right there, warm glowing skin still touchable, more touchable than anything else.

“Keeping you safe from prying eyes and hands… Not my hands though.”

He could excuse how he hesitated on the fact of him wanting to enjoy himself, wretchedly and thoroughly, gorging in every moment he was gonna make her scream, but… he knew that wasn’t the reason… he was… and he hated to admit it, but… nervous. He had this gorgeous creature trapped and under his thumb and he was nervous? No matter how terrified she was and immobilized it was like she still had the power, just like she had in that prison cell.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that he’d thought about her everyday he was trapped in there. She had said she would see him later yet she never once, not once, came a second time. Why would she lie? Just to fuck with him some more? One last and lasting punch in the face? He had dreamed of it. How many times had he fantasized about doing every possible nasty thing in the book to her, teach her a lesson, make her beg, make her kneel, make her bow before him? But now, having her right there, this frail little girl who wouldn’t have the strength to fight him even without the tight rope holding her down, this little girl who despite being just that had him enthralled for months, still just as hellbent, enslaved, spellbound to make her pay… but that wasn’t it either… making her pay was only half of it, maybe even less… what he wanted, what he truly wanted, was to prove to her that he could have her wrapped around his finger despite being what ugly freak she’d made him out to be, that despite being ugly, he could have a pretty-girl like her melting.

He gave fully into his wishes then, her shorts gone with a touch, leaving her in a precious pair of cotton boxers. A sigh of reverence left him, a shudder running through him. He was expecting red lace or something exotic, something vain and narcissistic meant to enhance or simply show off just how pretty she was. He figured that was what she’d dress in, something sexy, because she had the full body that one believes go hand in hand with hot lingerie, yet… she’d chosen comfort. And why wouldn’t she? When she could make it look like the hottest item his eyes ever had the privilege of seeing.

“Fuck…” He drawled, now with a wanton whine, his hand giving himself a squeeze as his cock was beginning to strain uncomfortably inside the confines of his boxers. “Just look at you…”

He only barely dared touch her, not just out of fear of her disappearing like anything else would, but because he didn’t at all feel as though he had the right to put his hands on something so beautiful.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes.” He stated, still in awe. “Not when they cover up this perfect body.”

She screamed into her gag as he grabbed around her waist, pulling her pliable little body up into a kneeling position, then pulling and arranging some further to have her in the same position, just over his slap this time, with his bulging cock rubbing through the fabric of his briefs up into her still clothed sex, though with both cloths a thin material she felt the abrasive ticklish friction begin to stir something in her lower abdomen despite her fear and no regard to her disgust. And now, provided with the full view of her delectable little frame, her precious tits sprung free and strutting towards him with how her arms were bent in their confinement behind her back, and perky by both the cold wind of his breath and the goosebump-giving anxiety, leveled with his face, looking eager to receive his mouth, perfect nipples for him to suck on, gnaw between the rows of his teeth.

“These perfect tits…” He licked his lips, hands kneading one mound greedily as the other held her steady. “And this…” He placed all five fingers on the fabric of her panties, turning them to ash, all five staying to touch the delicate skin of her sex, feeling her quake, such a good replacement to feeling someone disintegrate. He groaned out a curse, body sagging, slouching at the sight of her exposed bare little private, he hunched over in awe as he ran his fingers through to disappear in the slit of her precious pussy. “This perfect little pussy.”

She wiggled on his digits with a squealing whimpering sob, so alive and warm and soft he could cry with how safe he was beginning to feel, without the fear of touching just a bit too much getting in the way. Although he was feeling the slight sensation of inferiority in the light of her perfection, or maybe even because of it, he decided he’d give a little scare, perhaps as a means of tipping or evening the scales.

“You know, pretty girl…” His other hand, the one not currently preoccupied with cupping her pussy, brutally brazen for the first time, spread its fingers to stroke the dome of her ass, before curling like claws to grab a fist-full of the ample flesh, making her jump and lose balance, resulting in falling flush against his chest all with a muffled cry. Her face mushed against his collar, her wet reddened nose painting tears onto his throat, such a strange type of comfort against his scars. “I’ve never slapped anyone?” He could feel her heartbeat and how it hammered like a race-horse on the track. “Or, no, I’ve slapped plenty, but a slap from me means death, usually.” His hand ascended, wrapping around her throat, all five fingers with hungry-pressured fingertips, guiding her back off his chest to sit properly, though leaning to bite her earlobe, all to feel her rub down on his aching cock some more. “But I slap you and it means pretty marks and pretty screams, doesn’t it?”

He laughed, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to hurt her, or at least not as badly as he had given reason to think.

“Such a fucking pretty girl, aren’t you?” He trailed a path of wet open-mouthed kisses down her neck and between her breasts, gripping her waist as she recoiled back. “With pretty tits.” Breath labored, or hefty with greed and desire. “Pretty girl with a pretty pussy.” He squeezed her sides, as though getting ready to make a ragdoll of her again, pulling her into the desired position. “Let me taste you.”

Her heart hammered like a hammer hitting an anvil, as she was placed on her back, hands crushed beneath her, uncomfortably wrenching in their bonds. Her mind, stuck in its prospect, hadn’t pieced it together, despite having been stripped naked, she still hadn’t given it a thought, hadn’t dared give it a thought, but his comment made the realization coat thickly, drape her and the pressure seemed too much for her mind to take, plummeting into a free-fall. He wasn’t just going to kill her, he was going to rape her first.

Thighs easily pried open for him to settle in between, scooting back on the bed so he could lie down, lower half humping the mattress desperately, imagining having her wrapped around him, but all in good time. She shook more than writhed, seizurely beneath him, with her blushed pussy a beautiful slit so ripe for the taking, quivering at the warming breath he whispered upon the tender flesh. With his hands wrapped around each their ankle he pushed her thighs and legs up and out of the way as to not have her knee him in the head while he feasted.

He listened to her struggling to breathe, her stomach rising and falling sporadically with her sobs, untuned and painful and begging for any kindness he had to spare, he was going to give her exactly that. Kindness.

His chapped lips felt so good it was cruel, abrasive and inescapably delicious, welcomed yet unwelcome by the bucking of her hips as she squealed into her gag, falling prey to more and more hopelessness. His tongue came second, warm and wet and long and strong, sliding in between her folds only to swipe up and flick off at her clit, forcing a shudder to run all the way through her core into the tips of her toes, mind reeling.

“So cute.” He noted the sensitivity with a mocking jeer, the sound simmering on her skin. “I bet a pretty girl like you’ve never been fucked by a guy like me before.” Then his teeth were the ones to make an impact, grazing over her budding clit with how it reached out in search for stimulation, having its wish granted in such a sense forcing her toes to curl. “Come on my ugly face, pretty-girl.” She really couldn’t resist with how his words were tickling on that sensitive spot, and how intent on finding and following that spot that had her coming on done and abusing it, playing with it with his tongue and chapped lips, switching between such smooth soft yet forceful pressure and bristled rough chaffed contact, making her spasm, wanting so desperately to tug her arms loose to push his incessant face off, because she wouldn’t be able to resist it, she was going to come and make an humiliating mess on his tongue just like he wanted, the knot was going to snap and she would be screaming from the force of it.

He smirked with the taste of her essence on his tongue, giving her a couple more torturous kitty-licks that had her brutally recoiling by the oversensitivity he was abusing. It served well as an ego-boost as he was suddenly feeling the urge to take her blindfold off, make her gaze upon who had her wrapped around his finger. What more, he wanted to remove her gag, hear what she had to say to defend herself, what pathetic please she would come with to try and prevent him from going any further.

His mouth sloshed its way up her stomach, hands touching and grabbing and groping with greedy fingers onto anything and everything they got ahold of, feeling up her smooth skin and soft flesh, before having made their way to grab at the blindfold. Her eyes were petrified, blinking rapidly, especially every time his clothed cock bumped into her bare pussy, leaving strings of spit and fine silken cum to hang from between where she parted with the cotton of his pants.

She was thoroughly out of it, delirious, fear-ridden and numbed with pleasure, cotton yet swivel-eyed as he fought to be her focus. He pulled the gag out of her mouth too, wiping his chin before turning the fabric to ash, eyes looking her over all the while.

His tongue rolled over his lips. “Such a pretty face.” He gathered her face between his fingers, blunt fingertips pushing into squishy bloated cheeks. “Even prettier with those tears you fucking crybaby.” It will never get old, the feeling of nothing happening still under all his five fingers. “Even better with my handprint, don’t you think?” It was funny how she didn’t seem to pick up anything of what he was saying. “Or covered in my cum.” Her brows had scrunched so hopelessly close together, whimpers upon sniffles and whiny mewling and hiccupping panting, so pathetic and precious. “So fucking pretty.” He groaned, giving his lips a second wetting with his tongue. “Kiss me, pretty-girl.” He scrunched her lips together some more, leaving her incapable of refusing.

She tasted herself on his tongue, choking on the sweetness as he forced it like a slug down her throat. Her own tongue submissive in nature, staying beneath and out of the way of his. It was a series varying from needy whimpering moans and growls that followed from his throat, poured into her receiving mouth, giving nothing but weak whines in return. His one free hand, the other one still holding a firm grip onto her chin and cheeks, continued in its hungry exploration, grabbing with an almost childlike curious freedom, leaving painful marks in their wake, having her yelp against his willful lips, which smirk grew upon every inch of reaction she fed him, until pulling away in a haze, panting, with a new little wish he was going to have her be the star of.

“Let me fuck that pretty face.”

She hadn’t the time, nor the mind, to form any protest, reduced to mere whimpering as he pulled her back into a kneeling position, conjoined thighs and legs folded beneath and supporting her ass, still with her arms tied snuggly and unbudgingly behind her back, made to watch him fiddle with the band to his sweats, pulling them below his hips and falling to his thighs, displaying his surprisingly clean boxers and not so surprising hardness. Cock throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His hand pulling his boxers down and, cock springing loose, slapping against his abdomen, standing long and hard, tip blushed red and angry, a bead of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit.

“Open up, lick it up.”

She’d been lost in taking in the sheer size of him, girth thick and threatening, looking bigger than what she could wrap her hand around, her stomach twisting in tension and unease. Too caught up in imagine it ripping her apart than realizing how he was going to fit it into her mouth first.

Her eyes widened upon the thought, lips slightly apart in horror, bottom-lip quivering. “Come on, pretty-girl.” One hand tugged on his shaft, the other gripped her face, protruding nails to sink into her jaw, prying her mouth father apart to accommodate his size.

She whined at the taste of him, arms struggling behind her back, knees shuffling wider apart to support herself as he pushed on further, fingernails still digging into her soft cheeks, making her lips pucker into a soft welcoming oval. He liked the way her brows furrowed into that beautiful look of plead that had his balls aching where they hung, soon to be pressed up against her soft skin, smothering her chin. He also enjoyed how her whimpers had turned to delicious little vibrations of his cock, drumming alongside his length, such pretty friction.

“Come on, take all of me.” He licked his lips as he urged, other hand coming to caress the back of her skull, gathering her pretty locks between his fingers, abandoning all regard to how she should be turning to nothing but dust molecules instead of being a nice warm soft wet pleasure hole for him. His usually small scrutinizing scarlet eyes turning moon-wide with lustful frenzy. Voice ragged as he clawed at her scalp to obey him, no thought to her whining in protest. “You can do better.” His tip met with the back of her throat and her whine turned more desperate, nearly a scream, but he couldn’t care, not with the memory of her talking to him like he was some pussy-bitch, he was going to show her who the bitch and who the boss was. “Such a pretty little thing with such a nasty filthy ugly fucking mouth.” He spit through grit teeth, begging to fuck the back of her throat, having her gagging on him, hopeless in search for breath. “A mouth like that is only good for one thing.” He gave a few more painfully deep ruts, having her eyes roll back at the loss of breath, before ripping loose again. “Same goes for that pussy.”

“No, no.” She scrambled on the bed, trying to get away, trying to rip free, so hopeless he should have felt bad, but couldn’t bring himself to the feeling as he sat there and laughed, eyes wild, dick prospering, hand pumping his length to the sight of her.

He followed her pathetic struggling little shame, climbing on top of her. The panic swallowed her again, forcing a overwhelmed rush of sobs to come spluttering and blubbering and screaming from her little shape caught beneath him. “Such a little slut.” His fingers were at once groping her pussy, diving between her folds to rub her slit and clit. “Still so wet, are you excited?” She turned her head away as she struggled, eyes squeezed shut. “Aw, pretending it’s not me.” He snickered. “Good luck.”

Offended, he decided against making it pleasant for her, thinking she deserved as little sympathy from him as she had showed him, but his brutal actions slowed at the feel of the pressure around his finger when he’d pushed it inside her.

“So tight.” He stated, shocked as he tried swirling the digit inside, to feel the walls giving little wiggle-room to do so. She winced as he hooked, a heavy breathy shrill type of wince, as though he was pulling a knife from her gut.

He left the finger there, much to her discomfort.

“That comment…” He started, working her tightness as much as he could, still with only one finger. “When we first met.” His other hand gathered her face again, forcing her to look at him as he leaned down, resting his forehead on hers, wanting to see those eyes as he got confirmation on his suspicion. “You said you push people away… that you were a… repellant.” Her breathing hitched as she sniveled like a little girl who scraped her knee. “Did that count for this as well?”

He hadn’t yet let the smile stretch on his face, but the chiding smirk started to grow as the answer was clearly displayed all over her face and by the telltale feeling his finger shoved inside her way too tight hole told him.

“Aww, is the pretty little girl a virgin?” He gave her no inch of regret, even with the fact clear as day. Having worked her tightness well enough to cram another bony-knuckled finger inside her, making her cry out. “Don’t worry, that pretty pussy is in good hands.”

She owed him, this way they would be even. Besides, he wasn’t making it completely miserable for her either. Her face might be telling one story of torment, but her drooling pussy was telling him something utterly different. Perhaps it was due to her amateur ability to hold on, but she was soon creaming all over his fingers, body spasming in tired bliss, eyes fluttering for a moment or two, trying to grasp what the fuck was happening. It was adorable.

“I think my little slut is ready.”

She murmured a sigh, energy spent on crying and struggling and coming twice already, all she could do was moan when his cockhead broke through her tight little weeping hole. He had to moan as well at the snug hug her pussy squeezed and seized him with, biting roughly into his bottom lip, tooth snaggling in the dip of his scar. Brows raised in bliss, scrunched in an eruption, as he sunk deeper and deeper into her tight convulsing cunt, preciously clutching around him, fluttering upon the fulfilling snug fit that had her toes cramping in their curled state, eyes zoning out, unable to focus, mouth blubbering and chewing on incoherent sentences, only capable on slurring out muddled moans and wet gasps as he fucked slowly into, lolling his hips forward carefully, holding onto the mouthwatering feeling of her warmth around him.

He pushed his thumb into her clit, which had her back arching and moan ripped from her throat before she settled down into the mattress again, welcoming the stimulation where she was crippled to preventit. “Your pretty pussy loves being taken by my disgusting cock, doesn’t it?” She could only hum and croon in reply, as he hit the very back, pushing into her cervix with a rather soft nudge, having her result to sucking on her bottom-lip, purring whines like a little kitten taking pleasure from their master. “I hear it in your pretty moans.”

He was no longer biting out the word pretty as though it were a curse or venom on his tongue. It sounded more like praise than anything, something akin to awe, pride even, smug for having it all under his thumb, burying his cock inside the word, for being the one to have reduced such a pretty thing to such a pretty mess, all for him, all by him, making her all his.

She made a shuddering gasp, moaning into his mouth as he leaned down. “Oh, is the pretty girl gonna cum all over my disgusting cock.” He cooed, all five fingers placed on her cheek when cupping it to have those gorgeous opium-blown eyes look at him when she came undone, for him to find such dangerous satisfaction in seeing her conquered beneath him, finding it to be the last push to send him off his own edge as well. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum in that pretty pussy.”

He made to have that final bone-crushing kiss, faces mushed together in a sloppy mess of wet slippery tongues and drool, moaning and groaning, inhaling each-other.

Reduced to mere gasping and panting. Cock, having for the first time felt the fulfilling pleasure of blowing inside the warm comfort of a precious goddess, feeling her gush and come all over him in the near split-second, feeling her clench and tighten around him like a vice, robbing and ringing and milking him for every drop he was worth. He gave some more pumps, pushing deep within her, felt a shudder run down the underside of his cock, overstimulated and satisfied for the first time.

Still coming down from his high, he made to take in her shape and state.

He hadn’t really fantasized she’d be so pliant after being fucked, but looking at her now, he couldn’t imagine her any other way, anything more right then her glossy sweat-slicked body spasming in aftershocks of her orgasms, laid so preciously snug against his chest, thighs visibly shaking with still small feeble stuttering moans slipping from her lips in blubbers. He wasn’t too far from the same state himself, having had only barely the mind before exhaustion rendered his limbs too heavy for moving, to untie the knots and rearrange them into something more comfortable. He decided tying her wrists together in front of her to be better, legs free but too tired and dumbed-out to struggle.

He looked at her drowsy state with a smile, betting he could make such a grateful little pet out of her, and if not, then scramble her mind through so many cruel methods, and make do with a brainless toy instead. But, looking down at that blissed-out hopeless look on her face and that dainty defenseless body he’d manipulated and forced to its knees, he couldn’t really see how any cruel methods would be needed.

It seemed to him that all she needed was cock, a couple of orgasms forced from her pent-up body, a little relief. The little brat was just a bit grouchy and grumpy because she hadn’t had her pussy played with. He could relate, he also gets frustrated when not getting his dick wet for a while. She was just begging for someone to come handle her and that’s all there was to it. Just look at her now, so sweet and spent, lying in his arms.

Come to think of it, he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be needing to apply any harsh treatments in taming her, she just needed to be tied up and made to feel just how good being taken care of feels until she accepted it willingly. And if and when she decides on being bratty, he’ll have plenty of methods of shutting that trap right up, or in making her scream.

TIP-JAR

[wheelsup]

a friendly bet

category: fluff/humor, spencer x reader warnings: briefly jealous Spencer word count: 1.34k A/N: this blurb was requested by loml @rigatonireid! the prompts are: "you're absolutely dreadful" + "you're my favorite know-it-all"

Spencer Reid really does know it all. His intelligence might be the most attractive thing about him — tied with his face, his hair, his height, his kind eyes.... Maybe Spencer Reid is just overall attractive and you love everything about him, inside and out.

So yes, you’re completely biased on the topic of your boyfriend, but you are aware not everyone shares this fondness of his brain.

He can’t really help that he corrects people all the time — his impulse just takes the steering wheel and makes his mouth move before he can consider if it’s appropriate to comment. The rest of the team is familiar with the quirk, but even they still take offense from time to time.

And the strangers you meet on cases are even less receptive to it. Local law enforcement tends to think that the FBI only shows up to throw their weight around their city, and Reid’s little know-it-all interjections only increase the tension.

It makes it that much harder to get along with them, which isn’t always something your team can afford when the stakes are high. So, you decided to make him a friendly bet that he couldn’t go one whole day without correcting someone on an instance it wasn’t truly necessary.

“I thought you liked my rambling?” Spencer’s bottom lip curled into a pout that you quickly smoothed away with your thumbs.

“I do! I just… think it might make things easier if you hold back a little. Some of the guys here are getting their feelings hurt.” You laughed and stroked his cheek, coaxing a smile out of him. Your proposition wasn’t a criticism of him. It was of everyone else.

“There’s no way I correct people that much,” Spencer scoffed and rolled his eyes, playfully pushing your face away from him like you were being ridiculous.

“Then take the bet and we’ll find out.”

And sorry to say, there was a way.

Not an hour into the day, the vein on Spencer’s forehead was at danger of bursting through his skin. It only came out when he was angry or deep in focus, and you really couldn’t pick which of the two were causing it now. (It was a bit of both.)

This morning, you were trailing about thirty feet behind everyone when coming into the station and Spencer, being the good boyfriend he is, held the door open for you the extra ten seconds. The receptionist at the front desk subsequently chewed him out about ‘letting all of the cold air come into the office’.

That was Spencer’s first test of the day.

Surely, every person in the world knows that’s not how thermodynamics work. Not even close. And if she didn’t know that, that was definitely cause for concern. So really, this felt like a necessary time for Spencer to speak up. For her sake.

But he saw the way your eyebrow quirked up and he knew it was a challenge. It was too easy of a win for you. So he decided to bite his tongue and apologize for the inconvenience.

His second test rose from an argument between Morgan and Prentiss. The barista Hotch picked up drinks from messed up the team’s order and they discovered they were short one coffee. Both threw empty threats at the other and insisted they needed the drink more, but it had come to a stalemate.

“Emily, I worked late last night.”

“What happened to ladies first?” She slid the cup to herself, and Morgan snatched it right back.

“I’m not seeing any lady here!”

Before Emily tossed her chair at Morgan’s head, Hotch suggested they just flip a coin to make it totally fair.

Spencer’s brain was screaming inside: The odds of a coin toss are actually 51/49! Trials have shown that a coin favors landing on the side that was facing up when it was thrown, so really, whoever picks that side has a better chance!

It isn’t so much a correction as it is a fun fact. A harmless little fun fact, surely people would like to hear it! He should share it, they’ll love it.

But you remembered Spencer telling you about this once before, and your eyes are narrowing on him with a smug expression.

‘Come on. Tell them’ your face seems to say. He knows it’s bait, and he doesn’t bite. Thirty-seven minutes into the day. He can do it.

And to your surprise, he did last. For a while. (A while being an hour and twenty-four minutes.)

After the morning briefing, Spencer saw some young male deputy follow you into the conference room. Where you were working. Alone. Why the hell did he need to speak to you alone?

He’s tall with cover-boy good looks (much like Spencer himself), but the thing that Spencer hated most about him was the way he’d been looking at you all week. It’s a nicer word than Spencer would use — he’d say it was more like staring. Watching. Creeping.

Yeah, that’s the one. He’s a creep and Spencer’s very suspicious of him.

So, he did what anyone would do and hid behind a tall potted plant near the window to peek into the room through the blinds. (It’s very inconspicuous, they should use him to go undercover sometime.)

“Can I help you with something?” You gave a polite, tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah, I was just, uh—” he forced a laugh and rubbed his neck in some lame attempt to be charming that made Spencer roll his eyes. “I was wondering if you could fill me in on the investigation.”

He placed a couple of files onto the table next to you and rested a hand on the back of your chair.

You blinked uncomfortably between his sudden proximity and the flirtatious expression adorning his face. “Oh, uh, did you miss the briefing?”

He shook his head no. He was there, he was just making an excuse to come talk to you.

“Could you talk me through it again? I guess I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.” He flashed a smile and leaned his elbow on the table, effectively boxing you in with his whole body.

Before you could tell him to kindly fuck off, you got distracted by the sound of rustling leaves. Then four seconds later, Spencer burst in through the door.

“Actually!” he huffed, a little out of breath, “Goldfish have a long-term memory ranging from three to five months.” Once he catches it, he crosses his arms over his chest and straightens out his spine to make himself bigger. “So you should be able to figure it out on your own. Unless your brain is smaller than a goldfish’s, of course.”

You have to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing at the deputy’s beet-red face. Spencer scrambled to pick up the files and shoved them back into the deputy’s arms as he “gently” ushered him out the door.

“That was cute of you.” You left a soft kiss on that protruding forehead vein that was finally beginning to go away. “You lost, by the way.”

.

“There’s no way you’re making me do this.” Spencer stood in front of your bathroom mirror with the grimmest expression on his face.

“Sorry, cutie, but you lost,” you teased, preening his hair into place.

A few weeks ago you saw an old picture of Spencer with his hair slicked back, and it’s all you’ve been thinking about ever since. You thought it made him look model-level good and begged him to do it again, but he was of a different opinion. Now, he had no choice in the matter.

“I can’t go to work like this, I’ll look like a joke. There has to be something else!”

“This is the only thing I want.”

He sighed, shoulders sinking as his whole body deflated. “You’re absolutely dreadful.”

You planted a sloppy, exaggerated kiss on his furrowed brows and continued combing the gel into his hair. “And you are my favorite know-it-all.”

-

visual aid (tumblr wouldn't let me insert it ugh)

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taglist: @ellesgreenaway @suburban--gothic @sturmmhond @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @blondefrnk @andreasworlsboring101 @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @reidgifs @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit

broken tags: @iamonlyhereforcriminalmindsthings

[spencersawkward]

top shelf//MGG - part 1

summary: broke and having a bad day, Reader runs into Matthew outside a café. after a couple encounters, his financial support and friendship become something more.

word count: 3k

content warnings: swearing but nothing else!

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

A/N: hi! welcome to my new series. i don’t think this will be super long in terms of parts, but i’ll try to update as frequently as possible for you all. this chapter is pretty expositional, so i’m sorry in advance lol. also i know i made it short but lmk if you want them to be longer. also shoutout my sweet sweet angels @reidsconverse and @voidsfilm bc i would literally cry without both of you. also THANK YOU to @dr-spencerr-reidd for this concept bc i probably wouldn't have written it without your ask!! sending hugs :)

you throw your phone down on the passenger seat with a frustrated groan. after everything that's happened today, you're now stuck on a congested street with your car barely inside the parking spot alongside the sidewalk.

your screen sits there beside you, blank and unresponsive, and you know you're going to have to go inside the coffee shop to ask to use their phone and call Triple A. of course it's not working because nothing is working today. you might as well just sit in your car and cry.

but you can't, because you have a huge project for work that you need to get done by next week, and you've already procrastinated enough. a red glow from the headlights of other cars on the street shine through your windows like melted wax, distorted by the rain. it's been pouring all day.

bracing yourself for the onslaught, you grab the old umbrella from the foot well of the passenger seat and open the door of your car. the torrents hit your body like a wall of ice, soaking you as you try to get to the safety of the café. the umbrella helps a little, but then you get to the overhang and have to actually close it before you head inside.

your fingertips slip around the metal, trying to shove the thing closed while water drips off the bridge of your nose. it's frustrating. your footsteps are still determined as they move towards the entrance, but you're distracted by the stubborn nature of the object, so you don't see the man walking out.

it's not even a bodily collision, really. it's so much worse: the sopping material of the umbrella pokes him in the stomach, knocking the hot cup of coffee all over his sweater.

your eyes widen.

"oh my fucking god, I'm so sorry--" you stutter over your words, completely at a loss. his face is twisted up in an expression of concealed pain. it can't feel good to have hot coffee seeping through your clothes after being prodded by a piece of metal. you move your wet hair out of your face in order to look at him full-on.

"it's fine, really." he gives you what's supposed to be a friendly smile, but looks more like a grimace. your stomach twists; he's hot. like, if you saw him at the bar you would stare at him all night kind of hot.

"no, it's not," your face heats up, despite the cold, damp air. "let me buy you another coffee."

"I--" he glances down at his sweater, which is knitted with cute foxes on the front, then back at you. he pauses a moment and you have to bite down on your tongue to keep from collapsing. he's considerably older than you, but he doesn't dress or act that way. maybe late thirties, if you had to guess. "sure. thanks."

a flowering relief in your chest, partly because he doesn't seem angry and partly because you'd like to look at his face just a bit longer. your eyes stay on his until someone walks through the door of the café and reminds you of where you are.

without a word, you brush past and go into the building, him trailing behind.

Matthew watches as you walk ahead, your clothes spattered with rainwater and your hair somewhat messed up, too. he smiles to himself at the way you almost bump into the corner of a table, nervousness evident in nearly every movement.

you head to the counter, setting your hands on the granite while the barista checks out your unkempt appearance.

"hi," you smile at her before realizing you have no idea what this guy wants. you turn around and see him standing slightly behind you, suppressing a smile. he can tell how flustered you are, and now you look like a fool. "what coffee do you drink?"

"can I have a medium Americano, please?" he asks the barista with a friendly smile. he's got straight teeth, dimples... holy shit. you wish he had been unappealing so that this whole situation would be less humiliating.

you pay for his drink before getting out of the way, both of you slowly walking to the pickup counter.

"again, I'm really sorry. that stupid umbrella." you shake the thing at your side, raindrops falling to the floor. you run a hand through your wet hair.

"it's okay. I appreciate you getting me another cup." he flashes that smile again and you remember that his sweater is all stained. before you can think to do anything else, you pluck a handful of napkins from the self-serve station and start to dab at the material.

he looks down at you for a second, surprised by the way you grab his clothes. Matthew feels your hand pressing into his stomach innocently, and he feels himself blush a little. it's only when you pull away that he's able to regain his head.

"it's still bad," you throw away the napkins and re-evaluate the garment. "jesus christ, it's a nice sweater, too."

"hey, it's totally fine. I can just wash it out." he lets out a slight chuckle, and the sound makes your heart flutter. he's got a dad laugh. deep in his chest.

"baking soda and water." you say abruptly. he frowns.

"what?"

"to get the stain out? I use baking soda and water for coffee stains and it usually works." you explain gently, your eyes meeting again. his irises are a brownish hazel color, warm. the laugh lines by them are charming.

"oh," he grins. "do you get coffee stains often?"

you twist your mouth to the side and glance at the windows of the coffee shop. he's teasing you and you'd be remiss if you said you don't want to play along. "more than I'd like to admit."

you can feel him looking at you with that stupidly brilliant smile and it's really setting you off-kilter. someone shouldn't be that attractive; it's not fair. and yet you want desperately to stare, if purely for the sake of aesthetic enjoyment.

"I'm Matthew." he extends his hand, which is decorated with a series of rings. you realize that you don't even know his name.

"Y/N." you shake. his fingers are softer than you expected.

"nice to meet you, Y/N."

"and under such fortuitous circumstances." the corners of your mouth turn up as you relax a little.

he laughs at your words, the delightful ring of it interrupted by a new Americano showing up on the counter. he glances at the to-go cup, then at you, then goes to get his drink. you wish you knew what he was thinking, but he's not displaying anything past friendliness.

"well, um." something like disappointment settles in your stomach as you recognize this will be the last of your interaction. there's no reason for him to stick around, and you need to get back home to work, anyway.

"I'll let you get back to your day." Matthew doesn't seem nervous, just unsure as he grips the coffee in his hand. you open and close your mouth like something impressive enough to keep him here will come out. you know it won't.

and then you remember the state of affairs, the existence of your useless car and the useless phone in the front seat, how you're going to have to call Triple A and then your roommate to come get you.

Matthew realizes that you aren't going to say anything and he gives you one last smile and an awkward wave before turning to go. you watch in silence as he crosses the room to the door. two more seconds until he's out of your life forever. so of course you choose this exact moment to speak.

"wait."

his head jerks suddenly to look at you. this is embarrassing, but you have nothing to lose.

"can I... borrow your phone?"

Matthew tilts his head to the side slightly, frowning as though deeply confused. and you suppose it is a strange thing to ask, especially given that you're a younger person and most people your age carry their phones everywhere. "sure." he walks back over to you, pulling his cell out of his pocket.

"I just--" you fumble with the device while you decide how to phrase it without sounding like a pathetic mess. "my car keeps breaking down and my phone battery is, like, totally fucked, so it just turns off and on constantly and it’s still in my car but it’s raining and I just wanna see if it’s back on so I can call my roommate." you immediately cringe at yourself. the rambling isn’t cute.

he’s not too bothered by your panicking, though, his mouth only forming an O shape. "it’s no problem."

you dial your number, fingers trembling while he waits. he's turned his eyes to the rest of the coffee shop, but it still makes you nervous that he's standing right there. you put the cell to your ear and pray that it rings out.

you’re greeted by the sound of your own voice telling you to leave a message. great. with a frustrated sigh, you hang up and Matthew gives you an inquisitive expression.

“it’s still off,” you explain. “I’m gonna call my roommate.”

he nods and shoves his hands into his pockets while you punch in the other number. for a split second, you peek his way and admire his side profile. he really is something to behold; a model, maybe.

"hello?" good thing Cecilia has no problem answering unknown numbers. you bite your lip.

"hey, it's me."

"Y/N? whose phone are you using?"

"uh, someone I just met--" you frown as you try to find a way to describe him without something as insulting as a random guy. "anyway, my car broke down so I was wondering if you could pick me up."

there's a pause on the other end of the line, like the movement of sheets and the slightly disappointed groan of another person. she probably has her boyfriend over again. "sure, of course. where are you?"

you give her the address and hang up before dialing the car repair company. Matthew gestures to a table off to the side so that you two don't need to stand, and then you sit down across from him. you're so distracted by the person on the other end of the line that you don't even think about it.

Matthew twists his rings on his fingers. he's fidgety and it's sort of cute. you try not to stare at his hands, at the black spot of ink on the outside of his pinky. either he writes a lot or he's an artist. you have to focus on the table in order to keep from blushing.

finally, you finish up with the phone and hand it back to him. "you're a life saver."

"do you want me to wait with you until your friend gets here?" he gestures out the window. your immediate reaction is to say yes. it'll be awkward to sit here alone without your phone, without coffee. but you don't want to keep him any longer than you already have.

"it's okay, I'm sure you have places to be." you smile accommodatingly. he chooses his next words carefully, it seems.

"I don't, really. but I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, too." the way he speaks, offering his company without trying to impose... something about it makes your heart melt a bit. you appreciate his thoughtfulness. it makes you want to know more.

"okay," you nod as you make your decision. "if you wanna stay. it shouldn't be too long."

"great," he settles back into his chair, the light from the café lights above you reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. "why does your car keep breaking down?"

you exhale sharply at the thought. "that's a really good question, because I don't know the answer. it's super old and I'm too broke to afford a new one."

he nods.

Matthew's mind turns to different avenues at this knowledge. he knows you're young and that usually means that there isn't a lot of spare income. and he doesn't know if you have a job. but what he does know is that you've got an energy about you-- a sweet, well-intentioned manner that draws him in. every once in a while throughout the conversation, you throw out certain phrases that hint at a quick-witted intelligence.

you're funny, but not boldly so. and when you two get on the topic of how you ended up rain-soaked, shoving your way into a Los Angeles café, you tell him about your day.

"--and I have this shitty job right now working for one of my old professor's friends, so it's not like I can afford to constantly repair the damages. all my money is going towards my savings so I can pay for grad school, anyway." you sigh. he listens intently to your words, and he never shies away from eye contact. every time he nods along, you practically feel your heart leap.

"what do you do?" he asks.

"I write for a wellness magazine, but I'm sort of a fraud." you joke.

he laughs. "why's that?"

"I don't know, a lot of it is about different yoga methods and meditation, stuff like that-- but I don't do any of that in my daily life." you admit. it should be embarrassing, but you don't feel ashamed of the fact. he seems to find it funny.

"working your way toward a different kind of job, then?"

"I'm hoping for a more editorial role, honestly, but..." you lift your eyes to his. they're bright, he notices; full of a deep-rooted hope. "gotta start somewhere, right?"

"very true." Matthew wants to tell you just how much he understands, about the roles as an actor he's taken and the hours he spent making films in college, just hoping that one day he'd be able to make things on his own, but he doesn't want to scare you away or sound like he's bragging. it's not your fault you don't know who he is.

"sorry," you speak through a silence he doesn't realize he's left between you two. "I've talked your ear off and you don't even really know me. what do you do?"

"oh--" Matthew actually blushes this time. you see the pink creeping up his neck. "I'm an actor."

in the same way they did when you ran into him, your eyes widen. "an actor?"

"yeah," he smiles at the expression on your face. "you know that show, Criminal Minds?"

the name is familiar, but you've never seen an episode. "yeah, of course."

"I'm in that."

you don't know a lot about the program, but you've heard it talked about and you know that it's a popular show. so this guy is an actual actor, not just some LA wannabe. that makes him about five times more intimidating. you feel even more idiotic for not seeing it before.

"oh, shit," the words tumble out. Matthew grins at the bluntness of your reaction, and you scramble to recover. "sorry I didn't know who you are."

"no worries!" he laughs it off. "it's not a big deal."

"do you like it?" you ask. "being famous, I mean."

he shifts in his seat for a second as he makes a face like he doesn't know how to answer. you wonder if there's something deeper to him that you just haven't seen, yet. secret feelings about the subject. "I'm really not very famous, but I love the work."

genuinely humble. you can see it in his face, the sparkle in his eyes. and maybe he's just charming and you're just a girl blinded by his attractiveness, but your gut tells you that he's being real.

this time, you're the one who falls silent. admittedly, you get a little in your head sometimes. and it makes sense, now, the smoothness of his behavior and the sheer beauty of his face. this is a show business city-- of course he's famous.

Matthew's phone rings and he jumps, as if jolted from a dream. your attention moves immediately to the screen and you recognize Cecilia's number. he pushes the device over to you.

"hello?" your voice sounds far away.

"hey, I'm here. where are you?" she says.

"I'm just inside the café."

"oh, okay, I'll park and come in--" you hear the click of a seatbelt and start to panic. she can't see you in here with him.

"no!" you say too loudly. Matthew's head jerks up to frown at you.

"why not?" Cecilia asks, confused.

"no reason," god, you're a bad liar. "I'll come out and we can wait for the Triple A person in your car." you and Matthew make eye contact again. he gives you an understanding smile. your stomach flips.

"sounds good." she hangs up and you grab your umbrella. time to go.

"thanks for letting me use your phone." you stand, not really wanting to say goodbye but also lacking a reason to stay. he remains in his spot, seemingly now settled into this little corner of the café. it sort of suits him, this place. all cozy and slightly strange.

“happy to help.” you notice the tip of his tongue dart out over his bottom lip as if deliberating whether or not to say anything further. but he doesn’t and you feel awkward just standing there by the table.

“I’ll, uh…” you could ask for his number. but that would be weird, right? he doesn’t really seem to have an interest, anyway. “I’ll see you around, then.”

“yeah. it was nice to meet you, Y/N.” he gives one more of those killer smiles and you turn around, almost bumping into a display of coffee beans before correcting yourself and heading back outside.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!): @la-vie-en-amour1 @reidsconverse @voidsfilm