#I'm back from my one week-ish break

[sci-fi-disney-prince]

Mountaineering words of encouragement

Posted on Garrett's Instagram story (Feb. 23 I believe)

[youremyonlyhope]

Not me legitimately looking up flights to Ireland for a last minute near-mental-breakdown solotrip...

[ace-turned-confused]

sickening desire

joel masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader summary: you and your stepdad don't have much in common, but you always try to keep things friendly. back home for college break, he's not making it very easy. word count: 2,7k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a skirt, big ol' age gap (reader is nineteen), food mention, joel is big & beefy, stepcest, cheating, fucked morals all round, pet names, joel's a disgusting dirty perv (i'm so serious), smut, grinding, mentions of m & f masturbation, unprotected p in v, cockwarming, 1 spank, creampie, dirty talk, sprinkle of daddy kink, praise kink, panty kink a/n: written for @beefrobeefcal's MARRIED JOEL SITS ON YOU prompt - i got to witness the birth of this on discord, and thought how can i make this cute idea deranged instead, so here we are. idk how all this happened. this is stepcest, you have been warned. if it's not your thing then pls scroll on, no hard feelings in here <3 not beta'd

After weeks of phone calls, texts and endless hounding from your mother, you caved and decided to come home for your college break. She was missing you like crazy, and apparently you had aunts and cousins who were just dying to see you after so long, no doubt ready to bombard you with questions about the life of a college girl as if you were the first of the kind.

So, you came home to your mom and her new-ish husband, Joel Miller. You can count the number of times you’ve met him on one hand, one of those occasions being their wedding. You’re not sure how they make it work, but then opposites do attract…

Marriage has been good to Joel, his mental health and financial stability have improved, and overall he seems a happier person — not that you could tell from looking at him, with a permanent scowl etched on his face. The only ‘drawback’ seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline — his jeans now too tight around his thighs, the seams visibly strained, and his tummy poking out past his belt. They no doubt add to his eternal pissed-off facade, but he’s far too stubborn to admit he needs to buy new ones.

Your mom reminds him, often, how much he’s filled out in recent times, and judging by the bitterness in her voice, she clearly doesn’t approve. You’re not sure why she disapproves, but you’d never admit that.

From what you know, he’s neither an overly good nor a bad guy, he’s just… Joel, and the two of you have nothing to talk about, so you keep your distance out of courtesy. At least, you try to.

Since you’ve been home, you’ve caught him staring a few times but pin it down to aged eyesight. Most days he greets you in the kitchen with a husky ‘mornin’ sweetpea’, and makes a point of brushing up against you, half hard and warm in his threadbare sweatpants. He’ll place a hand on the small of your back when he stands beside you, pinky wandering down to toy with your waistband.

You cover up the way your breath catches and stop yourself from clenching your legs together every time — either he doesn’t have a grasp on personal space, or he’s doing this on purpose. The way he watches you move around once he’s sat down says all you need to know. You try not to think about it.

-

You’re flicking between channels one night when the front door clicks open, the heavy stomp of workboots echoing down the passage and into the room. Joel waltzes in, dumping his keys and without a word, sits directly onto you.

“What the fuck?”

“This is my chair, sweetpea. Not my fault you’re in it.”

You try pushing him off you, a losing battle with the extra kilos he’s put on since tying the knot with your mom. He mumbles something to you, his words lost underneath the TV and your strained grunting.

“What?” You huff at him, growing more and more agitated.

“I asked, you gettin’ off on this like you did sittin’ on my lap?”

Your mind swirls as you try to pinpoint what he means. It’s just when you’re about to give him lip and ask him what the fuck he’s on about, that you remember — and suddenly you wish the world would just swallow you whole.

-

During Sunday’s roast lunch, you were surrounded by extended family, filling in the blanks and avoiding the painfully personal questions; Joel spent the day with his standard disgruntled look and your mom was overzealous in her storytelling — everything and everyone just how you remembered.

Everyone broke off into smaller bubbles after lunch, and you stared at Joel as he unbuckled his belt and slumped back on your aunt’s couch — he stared right back at you, head cocked to one side as he weaselled his way into your mind with just a slight smirk and a wink, large hand resting teasingly over his crotch. You left the room, intentionally distancing yourself from him the rest of the day.

It was late afternoon by the time you begrudgingly hugged each family member goodbye and settled in the backseat next to Joel, some extras tagging along for the free ride back to your neighbourhood. With your headphones in and all other passengers occupied, you tried to nap the rest of the way home and regenerate the energy siphoned from you throughout the day. You had no complaints, up until now.

You sat up when your mom stopped off at a different house with just over half the trip still to go. Her heart of gold meant she’d offered a lift home to too many people for her one car, so being the youngest, she suggested you just squash up or sit on someone's lap… Which is fine when you’re nine, not nineteen.

And not just anyone offered up a place, no, Joel lifted his hand in the air and said you could sit on him — with no other way to get home, you pinched your eyes and cringed, but did it anyway. You were fine for the first 15 or so minutes until the road became uneven, and you realised just how fucked this whole thing was — when you first sat down on Joel, he wasn’t hard. You took a breath to try to steady yourself without drawing extra attention.

It was just a… natural response? God, that doesn’t make it any better.

You shifted forward, tried to reposition your weight over his legs and knees and told him you were just getting stiff — wrong fucking choice of words as you became even warmer than before.

Your mom stopped off to refuel along the way, everyone climbing out of the car to stretch, and you made a beeline for the bathroom, splashing yourself with water to cool down.

Joel watched as you came back to the car and you tried not to stare when you saw he was fully hard in his jeans; you felt mortified when you saw the damp patch you’d left on the fabric.

Back on Joel’s lap for the rest of the trip, everyone else was asleep with your mom still driving, radio turned up and blissfully unaware. You’d be able to forget about this, lock the memory away and move on if you hadn’t been so fucking turned on.

What’s worse, you making your stepdad hard, or him making you wet?

-

Joel snuck his hands onto your hips and you tensed, caught off guard by his touch.

“Keep ya steady,” he muttered, fingers digging into your skin.

Holding onto the seat in front for balance, he felt you were trying to lift your weight off him. He tightened his grip on you, slowly pulling you down onto him completely. There was no going back — he was fully hard by now, so he may as well get the most from this.

He pulled you to lean into his chest, his voice quiet in your ear, “S’alright sweetpea, almost there.”

Your head was turned to watch your mom the whole time, and Joel should have cared, but he just couldn’t, not when you were all warm and sweet on top of him. You stayed taut the entire trip home, Joel’s hands on your hips and bulge pressed deliciously against your core. He shifted you atop him every so often, and you desperately wanted to hate how good it felt.

When you finally arrived home, you clambered out of the car and left everyone to fend for themselves, darting for your room. You were about to close the door when you caught Joel staring again, the front of his jeans damp and darkened from where you were perched. You unpacked your clothes, sorted out your washing, and even took a shower but the incessant ache was still there. You finally gave in and shoved your hand between your legs.

-

A loud advert plays on the TV and brings you back into reality, Joel still firmly on top of you.

“Don’t act all fuckin’ innocent on me now, I know those panties of yours were gettin’ all wet with you grindin’ down on me like that.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were real quick to run off to your room that night, you had to stick your fingers up in that cunt of yours to get yourself off?”

“Fuck you, Joel.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love to. I know you dream of gettin’ fucked real good by your daddy, huh?” He twists to look at you, the motion pushing more of his weight onto you. “No point in arguin’ with me, I heard you that night… I’ve heard you on a lot of nights since you been home, always callin’ out for me.”

You don’t talk back as you keep pushing to get him off of you — he has enough leverage just from hearing you at night, he doesn’t also need to know that you are enjoying having his weight on you like this, unable to fight back or do anything about it.

“Now you got nothin’ to say?” He lifts himself slightly and gestures for you to get up, grabbing your wrist before you can walk away. “Did I say I was done talkin’?”

He faces you towards the TV, standing you between his now spread legs. Skating his hands up the back of your legs, goosebumps rise on your skin as he moves higher and higher, lifting the hem of your skirt as he goes. He kneads the swell of your ass, sliding his thumbs under the edge of your panties.

“These the ones you had on that day?”

“Huh?”

“Barely touched you and you already can’t think straight. Are these the panties you had on when you sat on my lap?”

“Uh, no? I don’t know, Joel.”

He pulls your panties up to expose more of your skin, smacking a hand down on the side of your ass. You jolt forward at the impact, a fresh wave of arousal seeping out between your folds.

“‘S a real shame, I bet they were soaked right through, huh? Soakin’ ‘em right now, the way you’re droolin’ for me. You wanna know somethin’, sweetpea?” You don’t bother answering, lost in the feeling of finally having his hands on you. “Never used to enjoy doin’ laundry before you came to visit, but now… Well, now I get to see all the pretty panties you have. And I always know when you’ve been thinkin’ of me, they get extra dirty.”

He reaches up to grip your hip, his other hand twisting to push in between your legs. Your hips jerk as he traces his fingers along your damp panties, pushing up into you against the fabric.

“Seems like you actually were gettin’ off on havin’ me on top of you…” You crane your neck at the clink of his belt buckle and watch as he drags his zipper down. He stares up at you the whole time. “But now you’re gonna sit on me again.”

Pulling you backwards by your waist, he keeps your skirt lifted and hooks a finger into the gusset of your panties, tugging them aside. He runs his fingers through your folds, already sticky with need. You clench your legs when he pulls away again, and he sighs, frantic and satisfied; turning around again you see he’s taken his cock in his hand, thick and hard, coating himself in your slick.

He guides you down onto him and a gasp slips from you as he drags the head of his cock through you to line himself up. Your gasps turn to a strangled moan as he pulls you to sit, sheathing himself completely — it’s a delicious stretch without any prep, and again you find yourself wishing you could hate this, hate him for doing this.

He lets your skirt drop down again as you settle on his lap, and picks up the TV remote with one hand, the other a vice grip on your waist. He flips through the channels, ignoring the fact you’re sitting firmly on him.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? We’re watchin’ TV, sweetpea. And you’re gonna be a good girl for me and sit still. With all the starin’ and whinin’ you do, this was only a matter of time.”

“And all the staring you do?”

“As if you don’t fuckin’ love it.” You clench around him at his words and he sniggers at you. “You’re real tight, sweetheart. Now sit still.”

-

You’re not sure how long you sit like this — Joel staring deadpan at the TV with his hands wrapped around your waist, and you aching for relief as you hold back from squirming on top of him. The initial sting has subsided, replaced now with a steady and simmering burn as you leak around him.

Your breathing deepens as you fight with yourself — do stay composed and try to win, or give in and let Joel make you feel good?

“Won’t lie, sweetpea, I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had it in you.” His low voice draws you from your inner conflict. “‘Specially now that you got me in you.”

You can practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, and he punctuates himself with a lift of his hips, rolling you on him. Fuck it, just give in. Whimpering as he repeats the motion over and over, it’s the most he’s done the entire night.

“You wanna know somethin’ else?” He keeps grinding your hips against him, the stretch of his cock and the strain of your panties against your clit bringing you closer and closer. “Dunno if you’ve ever noticed your panties go missing? S’cause I took ‘em, sweetpea. I take your pretty panties and I use ‘em to jerk off, dirty or clean, doesn’t matter to me, s’long as they’re yours. I smell ‘em, I wrap ‘em around my cock, I picture you wearin’ ‘em when I come all over ‘em.”

At some point in his rambling, he’d snaked a hand around to your front and under your skirt, and shoved his fingers in your panties to circle your clit. Just like a lot of things lately, you’re trying to hate how much you love it.

“That’s it sweetpea, come all over your daddy.”

Your legs tense, trapping his hand as he works you through your high, murmuring praises in your ear as you writhe on top of him — unfortunately for you, it’s the hardest you’ve ever come. He doesn’t give you time to think, wrapping his arms around you to lift you up and bundling your arms behind your back.

“Stay there, ‘m not done with you.”

Steadying yourself by leaning on his jean-covered thighs, he starts pistoning up into you, over and over as he uses you for his own high. Squeezing your hips, he pulls you down to match his thrusts, the room filled with his grunting and your whining and the obscene squelch from between your legs each time he fills you. It’s not long before he starts shuddering underneath you, pulling you down hard as he spills into you with a groan.

He holds you, almost affectionately in his arms as he relaxes, warm breath being puffed into your neck as he nuzzles against you and his hands smoothing over your clothes. Turning to look at him, his lips are just parted and his pupils are blown wide. You try to discern the emotion behind his eyes, surging forward to press your lips to his instead, afraid of what the truth might be.

It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s almost pure, the way he kisses you back, the hairs of his beard and moustache prickling your skin as a hand comes up to cradle your face, the other still held around your waist. You pull back from him, and he has that usual deviant glint in his eyes when he opens them again.

He stands you in front of him, just like you were before this, and he pulls your panties back over your core. He waits and watches as his spend starts oozing out of you and gets absorbed into the already damp cotton.

“Definitely gonna make good use of these ones, sweetpea.” He winks as he stands up, tucking his softening cock back into his jeans, still sticky from both you and himself. “Next time you can wear ‘em, just like I told you.”

tagging some friendos from the wip wednesday snippets, Imk if you'd like to be taken off <3

@luxurychristmaspudding @whocaresstillthelouvre @milla-frenchy @clawdee @burntheedges

@greenwitchfromthewoods @yopossum @evolnoomym @mountainsandmayhem @bubble-pop-eclectic

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[mypoisonedvine]

now here’s a thought: jonathan crane being seduced by one of his patients

I WAS SERIOUSLY THINKING ABOUT THIS LIKE A JOKER/HARLEY QUINN MOMENT!! aaaand that's how it turned into basically a whole ass oneshot, oops

hook, line, and sinker - 1.6k words

warnings: manipulation, sexual themes/groping (18+ only please), fluff but with a dark-ish twist

"Sometimes I think you're the only one who understands me," you admitted shyly, biting your lip and looking down at the tile floor beneath you.

He leaned in a little closer, resting his arms on the table between you. "You know," he replied, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it though not quite a whisper yet, "sometimes I feel the same way."

You smiled as you looked up at him again, finding a new brightness in his eyes. "Really?" you beamed.

"Yeah," he agreed, laughing, "I really enjoy our little talks. I mean, sometimes I can't believe I'm getting paid to see you."

Giggling a little, you remembered the first time he let his guard down with you, just a bit; for weeks he'd easily dodged any personal questions, clearly knowing it was a slippery slope to countertransference and an inappropriate relationship. Unfortunately for him and everyone who had insisted that Arkham was the only facility you'd never be able to escape from, you knew from the beginning that you could use him.

You could smell it on him: that deep, overwhelming loneliness. You were far too familiar with it yourself to miss it in someone else. Sure, he kept it hidden under layer after layer of intelligence, professionalism, faked normalcy-- but it was there, and it was calling out for someone else to truly see him. You saw him from the second he walked in that armored door, back when they still kept you in the jacket; now, months later, you'd convinced him you weren't a threat and that he was the one in control of these sessions.

The other facilities, with their inspiration murals and their bean bag chairs, they were a breeze to break out of. You knew that Arkham Supermax was going to be an entirely new challenge, but you'd been preparing since the beginning. Each week with Dr. Crane, you got him to be a little naughtier for you-- first it was as simple as convincing him to let your sessions go long, leaving everyone else waiting as you poured your soul out for an extra half hour. Convincing him that you needed him, that only he could help you. Then it was the praise-- you're changing my life, I've had so many shrinks and you're the first that really listened, you're so incredible-- all that shit he'd probably been craving since his daddy didn't hug him enough or something.

Once you'd given him some compliments, he returned one to you: you made up some sob story about your low self-esteem just to get him to admit that you were attractive, and you took the compliment with a coy little thank you, Dr. Crane... that's high praise coming from you.

Then it was contraband, just little stuff. He snagged you an extra serving of dessert on your birthday; he brought you a copy of your favorite book, as a reward for increasingly good behavior. Sometimes you thought about just asking him straight-up for a metal file or few paperclips, but that would be risky-- you could throw away all your work if you jumped the gun too soon.

Then there was the journal... you knew, no matter how much he swore he wouldn't, that he was going to read that fucking journal. You couldn't be sure if that was always the plan, or if it was just a temptation he would eventually surrender to, but you wrote all these fucked up little fantasies in that journal and imagined how he'd have to loosen his tie when he read them.

Back in January: Dr. Crane keeps asking about my nightmares, I couldn't possibly admit that I've started having sexual dreams about him...

And then there was the entry from March: I didn't mean to upset him yesterday but he snapped at me when I was talking about my anger-- he said I wasn't taking accountability-- and when he got stern with me I felt myself getting wet, is that bad?

And the best one yet, just a few days ago: Dear diary, I swore I wouldn't tell anyone what he told me, so I won't even tell you-- but I'll just say that when Jonathan showed me his mask, I fell totally in love with him. People are always hiding who they really are, but he knows me, and now I know him, too. I know I should feel guilty, but I don't. I know we're meant for each other.

Your heart was racing as you realized it might all pay off tonight. Listening to his rambling rants about fear and society and humanity, journaling about your 'crush' like a schoolgirl, making doe-eyes at him during sessions-- it was all about to happen, you had him in your pocket.

"Sometimes, I..." he began again, looking down at your hands shackled to the table, "I think about seeing you more. When I'm not even here, I mean..."

You pretended to be surprised by that. "Really? I mean... do you think about just talking to me, or...?"

He smiled a little, his face turning a bit pinker. "Do you think about us doing more than just talking?" he turned the question on you instead.

"Doctor, I--"

"Jonathan."

You had to fight off a smirk; you reached forward across the table, jingling the chains that held you down, but they were just long enough to reach to his hands. You gently brushed your fingers over his, hearing him sigh as he opened his hand for you to place your hand in. You ran your middle finger delicately in a line along his palm, and he shuddered a bit. Hook, line, and sinker. "Jonathan," you started again in a low purr, "I think about so much more than talking."

"Do you ever think about... about if we could be together...?" he pressed, closing his grip to hold your hand. After this long of a seduction, you couldn't deny that touching him in such an innocuous way was getting you a little hot. Just because you were manipulating him didn't mean you were completely faking an attraction, he was sexy-- and gullible. You liked that in a man.

Trying to look conflicted, you glanced away. "I try not to imagine that," you explained, "it's... it's not possible, with me in here. I'm fine with this, if this is all I can get-- seeing you three times a week for our sessions, telling you things I never thought I'd tell anyone. I can be okay with that. Just knowing you feel even a fraction of what I do is like-- it's like-- I don't even know how to describe it. It's amazing."

Leaning in even more, he reached up and held your face-- tenderly, reverently-- and you shut your eyes as you leaned into his touch. "I wish I was as unselfish as you," he replied, "but I need more-- I need to really be with you."

You brought your hand up to hold his, jerking the chain a bit. "I need-- I need you, too," you mumbled. "Please, Jonathan," you begged in a whisper as you opened your eyes to meet his wanting gaze, "I wanna be yours."

He sat up and leaned over the table in a split second, kissing you hard; you had to tilt your head back to accommodate the height difference as you were still sitting, and it made it even easier for him to hold your head like they used to in those old Hollywood movies-- the ones they showed here on Thursday nights, but you weren't allowed to go because you 'didn't integrate well with the general population' or whatever.

As he kissed you, hungry but relatively reserved, it was you that took it further: carefully running your tongue over his lips, opening your mouth for him to claim, having to hold back a grin when he moaned softly against you. "Touch me," you begged him in a rare moment of reprieve from the kiss, "please-- I've wanted you to for so long--"

He groaned a little as his hand slid down to your chest, opening one button of your uniform jumpsuit; he kissed your neck as he dipped his hand inside, groping your chest underneath the fabric. Your hips naturally rocked forward in the metal chair, your deprived body desperate to be filled after almost a year of forced celibacy in this prison. "Fuck," he mumbled against your skin, tweaking a nipple between his fingers, "you know we can't-- not here--"

"I know," you purred, only barely able to reach his shoulder with your hands chained-- otherwise you'd be running your fingers through his hair, holding on to his neck, pulling him closer. "But I need you-- I don't think I've ever needed anything this much..."

He shook his head; "Me either," he admitted.

"I need to feel you inside me."

He growled, grip tightening on your breast, and you smiled proudly. "I can't just leave you here," he realized, like it was his idea. "We need to be together-- outside of this place."

"I'll go anywhere with you," you promised him.

Pulling back and looking into your eyes, he brought both his hands to your face, brushing your hair aside quickly. "If I do this for you... you have to promise me. You have to be mine."

"Can you really do that?" you wondered. "Get me out?"

"I'll find a way," he assured, "I'll do anything."

You smiled up at his determined expression, flashing your best big-wet-needy eyes at him. "Jonathan," you cooed, "I'm already yours."

[megalony]

This Is Fate

This is my new Evan Buckley imagine and I am hoping to make it into a series. I'm really happy with this one and I would love to know what you all think and if you would like more parts. Enjoy,

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: Eddie is surprised when his little sister comes to LA and asks to stay with him. She needs a fresh start, a break away from everything back home, and her ex. When she meets the team, Evan takes a special interest in her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is Eddie home?"

(Y/n) didn't bother to try and smile. She didn't put on the brave face she had been practising on the ride down here. She didn't stand tall or square her shoulders or try and look the image of calm and collected like she hoped to when she thought about coming down here.

She knew she looked a mess.

Her jumper was hanging off her shoulders, being two sizes too big for her small frame. Her arms were bound around her chest to try and stop herself from shaking. Her lips were chapped and bloodied from where she had picked and bitten them over the past week out of nervous habit. If anyone looked at her hands they would see she had bitten off most of her nails and her thumbs were raw from where she'd started biting the skin too.

She looked windswept with disshevelled hair and dried tears swiped across her cheeks. And with a subtle trembling set in her bones, she looked almost hypothermic.

This was the right house; (Y/n) knew it. She recognised her brother's signature truck in the drive. And when she leaned to look around the kindly woman in the doorway and peered into the hall, she saw the pictures hanging around the walls. Eddie and Chris, scattered throughout the house. She was at the right address.

"I'll go get him for you."

When the woman turned and headed back inside, (Y/n) let out the breath she had been holding in and tried to smile.

That had to be Carla. The woman Eddie talked about a lot who helped look after Chris when he was at work.

There had been a look in her eyes, a small sense of familiarity and (Y/n) guessed Carla recognised her from one or two of the pictures Eddie had about the house. She just didn't know or realise who (Y/n) was now she was here in the flesh.

"Who is it?" Eddie finished his mouthful of pasta and wiped his mouth on his sleeve before he pushed up from the table.

Who was at the door? He wasn't expecting anyone and he couldn't think who it could be. What young women did he know who didn't work at the station or at Chris's school? It couldn't be anyone from the school coming round at teatime and if it was, Carla would have recognised them.

Just as Eddie stood up from the table, Chris hopped down and sped out the kitchen first to find out who was at the door. His interest was peaked at having a stranger at the door.

"Chris-" A shiver rolled down Eddie's spine and he cringed when Chris let out an excited scream. Who on Earth had turned up tonight?

"Auntie (Y/n)!"

Adrenaline coursed through Eddie's stomach and he hurried up when he heard Chris. (Y/n) was here? His youngest sister? Why was she in LA? Why hadn't she told him she was coming down? Eddie would have picked her up from wherever she arrived in town, he would have made the house look a bit tidier. He and Chris would have come to get her and shown her around and gone out for tea if they knew she was coming down.

He watched with wide eyes and a growing smile when Chris barrelled over to the front door and latched his arms around (Y/n)'s waist. He burrowed his head into her abdomen and clung to her like a monkey, still screaming excitedly into her stomach.

Out of all three of Eddie's sisters, (Y/n) was the one he was closest to and she was the one who had the best connection with Chris. It had been extremely hard on them both to leave (Y/n) back in Texas. And when (Y/n) moved, she moved closer to LA but she was still over an hour's drive from them.

Eddie could handle leaving his parents and his two other sisters, but he didn't want to leave his youngest sibling who he had taken care of all his life.

It had broken Chris's heart to know that his aunt would no longer be ten minutes away.

"Hey buddy- oh, you've grown so much." (Y/n) couldn't keep the tears from falling down her face, both from joy out of seeing Chris, and pain from how tightly he clung to her.

"You're here!"

"I thought I'd surprise my boys," (Y/n) leaned her head down and pressed hundreds of kisses against the top of Chris's hair until he was squealing and squirming against her. She held him tighter and willed herself not to burst into tears but as soon as she lifted her head and looked at Eddie, the waterworks started again.

"Alright, my turn. Chris, go finish dinner with Carla while I help auntie (Y/n) in please." Eddie gently turned Chris around in the other direction and gave him a nudge. (Y/n) wasn't going anywhere and Chris could cling to her and tell her everything that had been going on as soon as he'd finished his dinner and Eddie had the chance to hug his sister for himself.

Once Chris toddled off into the dining room, clapping his hands along the way, Eddie turned back to face (Y/n). He smiled brightly down at her and gasped when she flung her arms around his neck and reeled him in for a hug.

"I can't believe you're here. Why didn't you tell me you were coming down?" He kissed the side of her head and deadlocked his arms around her waist. But he could feel the smile fading from his face when he felt how badly she was shaking.

His hand planted down in the middle of her back and he tensed up the longer she held onto him without the intention of letting go.

Panic surged through him when he felt her tears soaking into his shoulder and Eddie started to realise she wasn't crying out of happiness, at least not anymore. And his eyes darted down to the doorstep in front of him and he could feel a new surge of panic igniting in his stomach.

Two cases.

That was more baggage than just a flying visit. Why had she turned up with all her belongings? Why didn't she call him? What had happened that he didn't know about?

"(Y/n), what's wrong? Why all the bags?" Eddie's hand pressed firmer into the middle of (Y/n)'s back when she tightened her arms around his neck and refused to pull away or look up at him. He didn't like this. Eddie never liked it when any of his sisters were upset or panicked. With their dad working away so much, Eddie had been the man of the house and he had always been the one his sisters went to with a problem they needed him to sort out.

He protected all of them.

He kept his left arm bound tight around her waist and he reached his right hand out to grab her cases. He dragged one inside and did the same with her other bag before he shuffled back with (Y/n) still in his arm so he could shut the door.

(Y/n) stayed limp and easily moveable, letting Eddie guide her through into the living room instead of standing in the hallway. But she started to shake when he finally leaned back and gripped her chin. He tilted her head up so they were finally looking at each other and when his thumb swiped across her cheek to brush away a tear, (Y/n) felt a whimper bubbling past her lips.

"C-can I stay with you, just f-for a while. Please?" Her hands unhooked from Eddie's neck and she let him hold her elbows and guide her to sit down in the armchair.

Once she was sat down, Eddie perched on the coffee table in front of her and rested his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward and arched his back out. His hand dragged across his jaw and down his chin while he nodded and tried to keep a calm expression on his face. His eyes kept wandering across to the dining room. Whatever (Y/n) was going to tell him clearly wasn't something good or anything she wanted Chris to overhear.

Eddie got the feeling that (Y/n) didn't even want to tell him what was going on and that hurt. She never had a problem talking to him about anything, but there was something in her eyes that told him this was harder than ever.

"You know you can always stay with me and Chris, you don't have to ask. What's going on? You didn't call, I could have come and got you… has something happened?"

(Y/n) tangled her hands and clenched her fingers together as tight as she could until they started to ache and burn.

"You, um, you know I said I was seeing someone, while I was staying with Chrissy?"

It was no secret that a little while after Eddie left Texas, (Y/n) had moved away too. She had gone to stay with their sister Chrissy who lived closer to LA than she did to Texas. It had been good to get away from home and have a fresh start, and (Y/n) had met someone while she was there.

Her eyes danced down to stare at Eddie's knees but she saw the way they tensed and how his hands curled into fists between his thighs.

"Did he try to hurt you?"

Eddie was wary of anyone each of his sisters got involved with. He didn't hate them right away, but he was cautious. He didn't want anyone to walk right in and think they could hurt the most important people in Eddie's life who he had raised since childhood.

He wasn't too thrilled this time that he knew nothing about the guy (Y/n) had been seeing. He didn't even know his name. All he knew was that (Y/n) had met someone and seemed to be happy with him. No photos, no pictures, no family get togethers where he tagged along. The relationship seemed fairly new so Eddie hadn't asked many questions or probed too deeply into it.

Something told him that maybe he should have. Perhaps he should have asked (Y/n) a little more about this guy and tried to make more of an effort. But (Y/n) wasn't a teenager or a little girl anymore, Eddie had to step back at some point even if he didn't want to.

"Not exactly… Eddie he scares me." Tears flushed (Y/n)'s face and her hands began to tremble in her lap until Eddie leaned across to hold them.

"Why?" He didn't understand. What kind of sense was Eddie supposed to make out of that?

"He was so nice at first, but he, I don't know… he got controlling, I think he was tracking my phone. He knew every move I made, he kept asking me to move away with him. I tried to end it but he kept coming round and he followed me home from work a few times too."

(Y/n) almost felt stupid for the way she was acting.

He had been kind. He was sweet and caring and loving and everything she thought she wanted in a partner. But (Y/n) didn't want someone to be checking every move she made. She didn't want to feel boxed in and she certainly didn't want to move as quickly as he did. Less than two months with him and he wanted her to move in with him. He even talked about marriage when (Y/n) knew him less than a year.

She wasn't ready for that and saying no to him was like talking to a brick wall. Her words seemed to bounce back and hit her in the face and he just pretended like she hadn't spoken at all.

He would worm his way back to her, attach himself to her and kiss her and engulf her and overload her until she changed her mind because it was easier to give in than stand up to him.

"Where is he now? Has he threatened you… (Y/n) you know you can tell me, leaving home in the middle of the night isn't like you."

She felt stupid. She felt stupid for leaving so suddenly as if her ex had been physical with her. His threats weren't like normal, obsessive threats. He didn't say he would hurt her if she left or he would always find her or get her back. He kept saying fate would bring her back to him and she could try all she liked, but she wasn't going to get far.

He scared her rather than threatened her and with how calm and placid he was, it just made things even worse. Not once had her ex hit her or pushed her or gave her a mark on her body that wasn't a simple love bite. He never became physical and during arguments he rarely even raised his voice at her. But he scared the living daylights out of her.

"I told him it was over, but he just said he'd be back for me soon, I don't know what he meant by that. Eddie I need to get away from him, I… oh God, promise you won't be mad at me or freak out, please?" (Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair as more tears started to cascade down her face.

She hadn't told anyone yet.

"Why would I freak out?"

Adrenaline bubbled to life in Eddie's stomach and shot up through his chest. What was she going to tell him that would freak him out?

He leaned back and straightened his shoulders while his hands moved to rub up and down his knees to stay calm and collected. His lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes stayed concentrated on his sister, waiting for her to tell him what the next problem was.

When her hands moved to her jumper, Eddie panicked. He thought she was about to lift up her shirt and show him black and blue bruises littering her skin. He thought he would see scars or broken ribs or dried blood or some sort of injury that told him he had to find this guy and beat him to a pulp. He feared what his sister had been through and what kind of torment someone had dared to put her through.

He wasn't expecting a baby bump.

(Y/n) bit down on her lower lip so harshly it began to bleed again and her fingers trembled as she pulled her jumper up near her bra. She hadn't told anyone she was pregnant. She couldn't tell Chrissy, she would go straight to their parents. (Y/n) couldn't tell their parents because they would be disappointed or try to get involved and tell her she needed to marry this guy. And she didn't want to marry him.

Eddie was the only one (Y/n) could trust who wouldn't freak out, get angry with her or try to tell her what to do. He married Shannon because she was pregnant, but that had been easier. Eddie had been in love with her, marriage was something he wanted. For (Y/n), marriage to someone this pent up and controlling wasn't what she wanted. No matter how desperate her ex was to have her back and marry her.

"How- how far along? Does he know?" Eddie rubbed his hand across his jaw and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

He would expect this from Chrissy. He always expected her to be the one to get into a strange relationship and have a baby. He didn't think (Y/n) would be caught up in a situation like this and it hurt. Eddie should have kept up better contact with her, called and visited her more often and protected her from something like this.

"Nineteen weeks, I think. I can't tell him, Eddie he'll never let me go, ma will want me to marry him and I- I can't-"

"Hey, hey calm down." When Eddie cupped her face in his hands, a tidal wave of tears streamed down her face as she hiccupped and tried to breathe. "I won't let anything like that happen, I promise. Just tell me what you want to do and I'll help you."

"I wanna d-do this on my own, without him. Here in LA, a new start."

(Y/n) wanted her baby. She had nothing against abortions, but that wasn't what she wanted. She was pregnant and she was going to have this baby, despite what her parents were going to think or what her ex was going to try and do.

He didn't know and that was what she wanted. He had no idea about her family or where her big brother lived or what he did for a living. (Y/n) could find a job easy here in LA. She could find herself a place nearby and be around Eddie and their Tia and Abuela and she could be surrounded by family and make new friends up here.

She could raise this baby on her own with her family and that was what she wanted to do. She just needed a little help.

Eddie was always telling her how good it was here, how Chris loved it and they had new friends and a great work family. (Y/n) thought she could make a life for herself here with her brother and family. His work family could become her new family here, Eddie always said how they were looking out for him and Chris and helping them any way they could.

"You can stay here as long as you want, Chris might not let you leave. And I'll make sure that creep doesn't find you, I won't let him near you."

Reaching out, (Y/n) curled her hands around Eddie's wrist and brought his hand to her lap. She ran her thumb across the back of his hand and managed to smile a little. "Can I ask another favour?"

"Anything."

"Don't tell ma or papi, not yet. Once I'm settled and sorted, I'll explain… I just can't deal with that hassle right now."

(Y/n) knew what their parents would do and say. They would try and get (Y/n) to come home. They would fret and try to talk her out of this, tell her to go back home to them and start fresh there or find her ex and talk things through with him.

They wouldn't be pleased to know (Y/n) was going to try and raise a child on her own when her ex was out there somewhere, unaware what was happening and perfectly happy to raise a child with her.

But this was her choice. She had chosen to come down here and (Y/n) wanted to stay. She wasn't here for a vacation. This was a fresh start, a chance for (Y/n) to try and make a better life and be with her family. She wanted to make new memories and a new life for herself and be happy here with her family.

She kept her eyes focused on Eddie's hand, but her smile softened when she felt him lean forward. He cupped the back of her head as gently as possible and leaned over so he could kiss the top of her head.

"I'll explain everything to them when you're ready." He would rather be the one to talk to their parents. He could always talk them down and they wouldn't argue this as much if they knew Eddie was on (Y/n)'s side and doing everything he could to look after her. "Come on, let's go have something to eat."

***

"So, will you introduce me to everyone?"

When Chris squeezed her hand, (Y/n) felt her smile brighten and she leaned her head on top of his when he pressed his cheek against her arm. His free hand curled around her arm and clung to her tighter as if he thought she was about to disappear.

He had barely left her side since she turned up in LA last week. It was as if Chris didn't truly believe that (Y/n) was in town to stay, he thought at any given moment she was going to get up and leave.

Every morning so far, Chris had burst into the spare room to wake (Y/n) up, making sure she hadn't disappeared during the night. And when Eddie was at work, like today, (Y/n) went and collected Chris from school and looked after him. It gave Eddie and Carla a break and gave (Y/n) something to do until her new job got lined up.

Eddie had put in a good word for her at the call centre and her interview went extremely well. She was going to be on the 911 calls in a week or two.

"Yeah. Bobby lets me ride in the truck sometimes." Chris tugged on (Y/n)'s hand and guided her into the station. He pointed at the trucks and weaved between them with (Y/n) hurrying to keep up with his strides.

"That's the Captain, right?"

"Yep. Dad!" He swung their hands between them and looked around the station for Eddie. He smiled brightly when (Y/n) kissed the top of his head and moved her free hand to his shoulder, clinging to him as he took her towards the stairs.

"Buddy, what're you doing here?"

"It's uncle Buck! He's the best." Chris stuck his thumb in his mouth and grinned when he watched Evan jog down the stairs towards them with a wide grin and his arms stretched out.

(Y/n) couldn't breathe. All the air got caught up in her chest as a lump formed in her throat and her eyes welled up with tears. She could feel her heart pounding against her chest so harsh she thought her ribs were going to fracture. And when her pulse thudded in her ears, it was all she could hear and feel as her skin pulsed and throbbed.

Before she knew what was happening, all the blood drained down to her feet and her eyes rolled back in her head that felt like it was pumped full of helium.

"Eddie get down here!"

"Dad!" Chris let go of (Y/n)'s hand when her head flopped forward until her chin was tucked into her chest and she started to drop. He watched her knees cave in but his faltering smile paused when Evan rushed forward to grab her. He watched Evan hook his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and let her fall into his chest, saving her from a harsh fall to the floor like he was a knight in shining armour.

Evan darted his eyes around before he carefully stepped closer and went down on his knees, easing the girl in his arms down along with him. Once he was on the ground, Evan carefully turned her around so her back was slumped into his chest and he reached his hand down to cup her chin and tilt her head back on his shoulder.

"What's going on? Buck what happened?" Panic flooded Eddie's voice as he bolted down the stairs and jumped down the last three to rush across the station floor. He reached inside the back of the open ambulance and swiped a medic bag before he made a beeline for his family.

He watched Chris flop down on the floor, his thumb still hidden between his teeth out of anxious habit while his eyes focused on Evan and (Y/n).

Eddie knelt down beside them, briefly ruffling Chris's hair to try and calm him down before he looked down at his sister. She was laid motionless in Evan's arms, slumped down and breathing fast and shallow.

"She- she just fainted, is that normal? Is this your sister?" Evan curved his right arm around her chest and began smoothing his knuckles up and down her sternum to try and apply pressure and bring her back round.

"Yeah, yeah this is (Y/n)."

Eddie kissed Chris's cheek and patted his back before he nudged his son to gently ask him to shuffle back a few paces.

"(Y/n)? Are you back with me?" Shuffling around in the medic bag, Eddie found a blood pressure cuff and slid it up her right arm. He set her hand down on his thigh and brushed his thumb across the back of her hand for a few seconds.

Her head was starting to move from side to side on Evan's shoulder and her fingers started to twitch and clench.

Lifting his gaze, Eddie glanced across at Evan and when their eyes locked, Evan tried to smile politely as he reached down for (Y/n)'s shirt and gently pulled it back down over her stomach from where it had ridden up. Evan sat her forwards and let Eddie take over and have her lean up against him instead.

"Chris, why don't we go get (Y/n) a drink?" Evan waved his hand across at Chris and stood up, letting Chris take his hand and guide him towards the stairs. It would be best to give them both a moment to talk and let Eddie calm her down if she was going to panic. And after collapsing, she could probably use a drink to boost her back up.

"Alright, BP's a little high, nothing worrying." Eddie spoke to himself as he slipped off the cuff and found a heart rate monitor which he clipped onto her index finger. "Hey, there we go." He relaxed a little when (Y/n)'s eyes began to flutter and she tried to focus in on him.

Her hand bashed around shakily until she found Eddie's hand and she gripped as tightly as she could muster. Her head was starting to pulse and throb like she had been whacked and knocked out and her heart was going haywire in her chest.

"What happened?" Eddie watched her eyes dart around and for a second he thought she was looking for someone. But when her gaze settled back on him, she relaxed against him and seemed to melt.

"I- I just went dizzy, I'm okay." (Y/n) gave Eddie's hand a squeeze and tried to muster up a smile. She wasn't sure what came over her. She blacked out quicker than she ever had before, but she felt okay. She wasn't in any sort of danger or hurt in any way, and she had blacked out at the right place.

"Why don't we go sit down? You don't usually pass out very often." Eddie moved so he was crouching in front of her and held his hands out until (Y/n) gratefully took them.

She let him pull her up and leaned into his chest when Eddie curved one arm around her waist and kept his other hand tangled with hers for added support. (Y/n) tilted her head into his shoulder and followed his direction towards the locker room. He wasn't so sure (Y/n) would get up the stairs into the kitchen right now when she was shaking and had only just come back round.

Eddie would rather get (Y/n) sat down in the locker room and make sure she was back to feeling herself before risking moving anywhere else. He still didn't know why she had passed out. He didn't know whether (Y/n) hadn't eaten a lot today, whether she just felt unwell or if it was something to do with the baby. He wanted to keep an eye on her for the time being.

"Are you sure you feel okay?" Eddie moved his hand to her shoulder when she slumped down on the bench and braced her hands on her knees. The way she tilted her head back on his arm and smiled tiredly yet sweetly up at him calmed down one of his many nerves.

"Just lightheaded, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, just stay here a minute while I get Chris and find you a drink, okay?"

(Y/n) nodded and when she felt Eddie kiss her temple, she let her eyes fall closed and started to rake her hands up and down her legs to try and liven herself up a little. She would have to apologise to Chris, she had probably scared him.

Her hand moved to drag through her hair, brushing it back behind her ears and out of her eyes as she took deep, calming breaths.

"I hope you didn't collapse because of me."

Tremors rattled through (Y/n)'s bones until she was trembling back and forth on the bench. Her blood ran cold and disappeared down to her toes as her fingertips went numb and she could barely feel her nails piercing through her leggings into her thighs.

She didn't want to look. She didn't want to turn and look over her shoulder at the owner of that voice she knew she had heard before. But she didn't have to. He walked around until he was stood in front of her, arms casually folded over his chest and his shoulders pushed back into the lockers so he was slanted at an angle.

"Evan." His name fell from her lips in a whisper that he could barely hear, but it made his lips curl into the purest smile (Y/n) had ever seen. And it made her stomach churn.

"Nice to see you too, babe." His hands clenched over his biceps and his head tilted to the side as his eyes stayed focused on (Y/n). He could see she was barely able to catch a proper breath and her eyes were blown so wide there was no colour left in them, just black holes that went on for miles.

"Why… why're you here?"

"Me? I work here. Question is what're you doing here? Last time I checked, you didn't live in LA." Evan pushed off the lockers and took a step closer which caused (Y/n) to lean back and tilt her head up to stay focused on him.

He never told her he lived in LA either. She knew he wasn't from Chrissy's hometown. She knew he was only visiting while he was off sick from his job. But he never said he was a fireman. He told her he worked for the emergency services, but never which department and it never came up because he was recovering from multiple leg surgeries. He hadn't been at work.

Evan never told her where he worked, where he originally lived or the nickname everyone called him. If she'd of known, she wouldn't have come down to stay with Eddie.

If she knew her brother's best friend was the person she was trying to get away from, she would have risked going back home to Texas and faced their parents.

She had landed herself right in the middle of Hell by coming here.

"Did you… was… was this on purpose? Did you always know, about Eddie?" Tears pooled in (Y/n)'s eyes but she couldn't find it in herself to begin crying. She had cried so much about Evan and this whole situation. Crying in front of him didn't feel right and she didn't have the willpower to do it.

She just wanted to go home.

Had he always known? Had he known from the moment he met her that she was Eddie's little sister? Is that why he was so keen on staying in a relationship with her and making this obsession work?

"Finding out I'd fallen for Eddie's little sister was a bonus." He scratched his hand across his jaw and took another three steps forward until he was stood between (Y/n)'s legs. Towering over her like a skyscraper. "This is fate, baby girl."

He hadn't planned anything. He fell for her and once he found out her last name, everything clicked and it made things even better. He had fallen for his best friend's younger sister. And Evan wasn't letting her disappear from him again. She wasn't leaving him when they had a connection, when they had something special that Evan wasn't giving up on.

He knew what they had was what he wanted. Why could everyone else find love and relationships and stick together and start families, but not Evan? Why wouldn't it work for him?

Well, not this time.

This time, Evan was taking control. He had something with (Y/n) and he wasn't letting it go because she was scared to be with him and face that this was special. Evan believed in fate, and he believed that this was a sign. This is what he'd been praying for, and he wasn't letting it go so easily.

(Y/n) could feel the panic dwelling up in her chest and taking over her body when Evan leaned forward. She wasn't sure where his hands were going, but while one hand moved to rest beside her hip on the bench, a chill tore through her when his other hand curved over her stomach.

He knew. He knew what she had tried to hide from him. He knew why she had come down to LA in the vain hope that if he went back to Chrissy's, he wouldn't find (Y/n) there and wouldn't find out she was pregnant.

His thumb glided across her stomach and when he looked down, his smile would of made (Y/n) melt if this situation were any different.

"And now I know you're pregnant, and I can see from that look on your face that it's mine."

(Y/n) wanted to cry when Evan leaned down and kissed her. She wanted to cry for every emotion he's made her feel and every way he'd screwed with her thoughts and emotions and controlled everything she tried to do. She wanted to cry for the baby she had tried to protect and keep safe from him.

But (Y/n) never truly believed she would keep this from him. She had a gut feeling that Evan would find out sooner or later, some way or another. She knew he would find out she was having his baby. And once he knew, he wasn't going to let her go.

And she couldn't stop the way she curled her hand around his wrist when he swiped his tongue across her lips and into her mouth and he bit her lip, devouring every breath she tried to take.

"Don't think for one second that I'm gonna let you keep them from me. This is our baby, you're not doing this without me."

[rambling-at-midnight]

omg a part 2????

i loved it so much!!!

Ahh I'm so glad you liked it!!! It's my first Jason x reader fic :) Here's a part 2!

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks (Part 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Civilian!Reader

Summary: Now it’s time for a meet-ugly-ish with some dude named Jason. Also, you see the Red Hood again.

Word count: 6.3k (holy shit)

You’re not crazy, right? It’s weird that the library is completely empty because it closes in two hours and the weather is actually nice outside for once, and some random dude wanders in and sets up two seats down from you. He’s not even here to study; he pulled out a sci-fi novel as soon as he sat down.

Who comes to a GCU campus library to read recreationally? The seats are uncomfortable and plastic. And the sun is shining. Everyone else is outside soaking up the Vitamin D.

Honestly, you’re mostly surprised the chair he’s on didn’t snap as soon as he sat. The dude is huge. Football player huge. Shouldn’t he be at practice, instead of forcing the chair to make the most irritating squeaking noises known to man every time he moves an inch?

You grit your teeth and put on your headphones, but you can still hear the poor chair’s dying lamentations, so you turn on an instrumental playlist that hopefully won’t distract you too much from studying.

You let yourself stew over the annoyance until your stomach growls so loud you hear it over the soft music. He has the good grace not to look at you, but you definitely see him pause.

Okay, you’ll call it even. This is what you get for running to the library right after six hours of classes. You need to cement the knowledge in your mind while it’s still fresh, and if that means you have to forego lunch…

He’s still there two hours later when the closing time alarm goes off. It’s a shrill old-school bell, the kind no one can ignore, and he jumps like he’s never heard it in his life. The poor chair finally gives up. He tumbles to the ground.

You look over in case he needs any help, but he’s scrambling for the book, face bright red.

If he is a football player, you wouldn’t be surprised that he’s never heard the bell before. That sort rarely stays this late at the library—if they enter at all.

He rushes out. You pack up a little more methodically. All that’s left for you to look forward to tonight is trying to study in your apartment, but you never have much luck.

He’s outside the library on his phone when you walk out. Maybe waiting for a ride? You’re a little on edge from the events of two days ago, so you watch him out of the corner of your eye as you walk away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.

At least the library closes earlier on Wednesdays, 6 pm instead of 9:30. You don’t know why. It’s still a weekday. But it forces you out while the sun’s still shining, which is probably a good thing.

Within two minutes of the twenty-minute walk home, your hip hurts. By the ten-minute mark, you’re trying not to limp.

Despite your better judgment, you keep your gaze turned to the rooftops, even though you know the vigilantes are nocturnal. It’s stupid to want to see a flash of red helmet, anyway. The Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people every week; there’s no way he would remember you.

Of course, when you finally get back, there are the stairs to contend with.

Your cat, that ungrateful little beast, beeps at you furiously for being gone so long. Never mind that your roommate works nights, so at most the cat’s been alone for an hour. He makes a break for the hallway, and you box the doorway with your legs and slam the door closed against your hip as you slip through.

Your injury explodes with pain, but at least the cat doesn’t get out. Ungrateful little beast. As if he isn’t fed and loved enough.

You finish slipping through the doorway and just stand for a moment listening to the blood rushing through your ears. Damn, but that hurt.

In the bathroom mirror, you hike up the hem of your shirt and check the state of your injury.

All in all, it could have been much worse. The bullet scooped out a fair chunk of skin, but it was just a surface wound. There’s no fresh blood on the gauze, and when you change the wrappings, the skin is pink and raw but starting to scab. It scooped out a chunk and left a trail of bruising, but you got off fairly lightly, all things considered.

The GCPD released the robber’s mugshot yesterday morning. In the picture, the man’s eyes were so swollen from your pepper spray he could hardly open them.

You preferred the bullet, honestly.

You try in vain to study a bit more, but even after you take more painkillers, you’re not in the mood. You feed your cat, then curl up on the couch to watch a couple episodes of the show you’re currently in the middle of.

That was the first time you see the huge guy, but it’s certainly not the last.

You wouldn’t notice him so much if he wasn’t the size of a damn refrigerator. He’s gotta be a linebacker for the Knights, but he’s not on their roster. You looked it up after the third time he wandered into the library just a couple minutes after you. It’s probably not updated yet, but you see him so often, you’d like to know his name.

Also, he’d bleached a patch of hair right at the front of his head—was that a trend now, or something?—so it wasn’t hard to spot him.

On Saturday, your feelings shift from mild annoyance and curiosity to a sinking sort of dread when you notice him at the coffeeshop you always visit on the weekends. The employees know you by name and use it to call out your order, so now he knows it, as long as he’s paying attention.

You think he might be.

You don’t want to be that person. Not everything in the world revolves around you, obviously. But you might still be shaken from what happened on Monday, because the thought wiggles in the back of your brain: what if you have a stalker?

You try to tell yourself that it’s just paranoia. GCU isn’t that big a campus, after all, and there are only so many places in the city that are: A. close to campus, B. reasonably priced, and C. comfortable to work in. You’ve run into classmates here before, and you don’t have a monopoly on the library or this coffeeshop. Just because he shows up at the same time you do doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He might be establishing a schedule that just so happens to line up with yours.

But, you have to admit, it is easier for stalkers to stalk people when they know their regular schedule.

You keep a watchful eye out and are pretty good about keeping off the streets after dark, but a week and a half later finds you stranded an hour’s walk from your apartment. The buses worked for two days, then shut down again, and you foolishly believed that following the detour that said would get you home would actually get you home. You don’t want to call an Uber because traffic would make the ride longer than the walk and bankrupt you in the process. Same reason you can’t call anyone to pick you up unless you waited the two hours until rush hour dies down.

Walking is, unfortunately, the best option.

So you clutch your trusty pepper spray and prepare yourself for a long night of looking over your shoulder and ignoring the pain in your side. The wound has mostly closed, although the bruising has gotten worse.

Three minutes later, you hear the roar of a motorcycle followed by angry car honks. You barely pay it any mind until the motorcycle pulls up next to you and doesn't pass.

You keep walking, avoiding eye contact. Maybe ignoring them will dissuade the rider from catcalling you.

It doesn't work. "Hey," the rider says, and it's only because the voice is mechanically distorted, recognizable only because of how many videos of him that you won't admit to looking up the last week, that you look at him. "What are you doing?" asks the Red Hood.

"What are you doing?" you counter. He's blocking the flow of traffic talking to you.

The Red Hood looks over his shoulder, flips off the person honking behind him, and steers his motorcycle onto the sidewalk. He drives fast, and you flinch in case he tries to run you over, but he screeches to a halt at the last second.

"Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks," he says casually, like you two meet up often.

"I've been staying out of trouble," you say.

"Not tonight?"

"No. That wasn't my fault, though. I took the Southwest bus because it was supposed to connect with the L line, but all the signs they posted were a lie, apparently, because—" You cut yourself off. "Never mind, I'm sure you don't care. Point is, I'm walking home. It's not too far."

"It's about an hour," he points out. "How's your bullet wound? Will it object to that walk?"

"I'll be fine."

He pats the back of his motorcycle seat. "Hop on. I'll drive you."

You take a couple hasty steps back. It may not be a white van, but you know better than to follow candy into someone's vehicle. "Oh, no, thanks. Traffic's pretty bad right now."

You get the sense he's smiling when he says, "I bet I can get you back faster than walking." If only he wasn't wearing the stupid shiny helmet, you would be able to read his expressions better.

"Really, I'm okay. I'm sure you have better things to do than drive me home."

"Helping people is literally my job," is his response. "I have to make sure you get home safely. So either you get on the back of my bike, or I follow you the whole walk back to your apartment."

You know a losing battle when you see it. As a general rule of thumb, it's usually smart not to argue with the dude carrying at least two guns. "Don't kidnap me," you order before slinging your leg over the seat.

He chuckles. It's the first time you've ever heard him laugh, and it makes him sound so much younger. "You can't ride like that."

"Like what?"

He cranes his neck to look back at you. There's at least six inches between both your bodies. You clutch the sides of the seat with both your hands, hoping he doesn't take off with such a lurch that you topple off the back. "I drive fast. You'll have to hold on."

"I am holding on."

"To me."

You've only met the man twice. You're pretty sure clinging to someone's back is at least a third-meeting type of touch, but he reaches back. The Red Hood snakes a hand nearly twice the size of yours into the crook of your knee, then yanks you to him. You shoot forward with a strangled yelp and catch yourself on his back.

You've never before understood the phrase 'wall of muscle,' but you get it now.

He is huge. And strong. You gingerly put your hands on his shoulders. That's not an inappropriate touch, you think.

He has to live at the gym, right?

"You're still not holding on," he chides. "I don't have a helmet for you, so you really shouldn't fall off."

You swallow and move your hands, but he's too thick for you to link your hands around his front. So you fist both of them into his jacket. It presses your bodies tight against each other from shoulder to thighs. Through the layers his body radiates heat, but you shiver.

"Going," is all the warning you get.

Then you're gone; the bike shudders beneath you, then takes off like a jet.

You can't catch your breath. This must be what riding a dragon feels like, is your first nonsensical thought, a side effect of your roommate's obsession with Game of Thrones.

The bike roars beneath you, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of wind and the pound of blood in your ears. You can't see much with the wind drying out your eyes, so you press your head against the Red Hood's back and squint to one side. Cars and street lamps blur together into a stream of mismatched lights and colors.

The Red Hood drives fast. He weaves between lanes, runs through red lights, cuts onto the sidewalk. A couple bikers shake their fists at him when he passes them in the bike lane. A lot of cars honk at the two of you.

Judging by the way his shoulders shake with laughter, he likes pissing them off. You have to admit, the feeling is a little intoxicating.

You can't hear the sound, but your front is plastered to his back. Even with the layers of his suit and leather jacket, you can feel the vibrations of sound deep within his chest. He has a fairly deep voice, after all, unless the helmet changes that.

No less than ten minutes later, he parks abruptly. You lift your head, blinking moisture back into your eyes, and stare dumbly at your apartment building.

He'd actually brought you back.

Maybe he really was reformed.

You stumble off the bike onto unsteady legs. The Red Hood kicks his stand into place and rests against the bike, leaning with elbows on his handlebars. Like he expects a Midwest goodbye. And you find yourself dawdling.

Maybe you want one, too.

"Thanks for the ride," you finally say awkwardly.

"Anytime," he says, and you laugh, thinking it's a joke, but he doesn't. After a brief awkward pause, the Red Hood tries, "So how have you been?" as if you're old pals meeting up for brunch, and the question is so ridiculous coming from a sort-of-reformed crime lord slash serial killer that you respond without thinking.

"Pretty good, except I think I may have a stalker."

His helmet doesn't do a great job translating whatever sound he makes in response to that. It comes out as a crackle. "What?"

"I've noticed this dude recently showing up wherever I go," you say. "But I think it's just a coincidence. Sorry. That was a bad joke." It wasn't, but you don't want to accuse someone without proof of stalking you. If he's not, you'll seem self-obsessed. If he is, then he knows that you know, and it's not like the GCPD will do anything. One of your friends from your hometown had a stalker for literal years, and the police never did anything, even after he sent her death threats. They said there wasn't enough proof to make an arrest then, so someone showing up at the same places you are definitely isn't enough proof now.

The Red Hood tilts his head. "Does he make you uncomfortable?"

"You don't need to beat him up or anything on my behalf," you say. "I mean, you've seen me with a bottle of pepper spray. I'm pretty sure I can handle myself."

"I know you can," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, like he finds something about the situation funny. "And I'm pretty sure that you know that I'm going to check this out anyway."

"No," you say, surprising yourself with your firmness. You can't rely on vigilantes to solve all your problems for you. "Seriously, it's okay. Thanks for the ride. Maybe I'll see you around."

"I'm counting on it," he calls as you walk away.

And he's right. Two days later finds you at the gas station at ten-thirty at night. You don't want to see him, per se. You're definitely not looking over your shoulder at the slightest sound. You definitely didn't check the parking lot for a notorious red motorcycle on your way in, and you certainly aren't taking peeks out the window every time headlights pass by on the street.

You're just... curious.

Maybe.

But you have absolutely no warning, not even a suspicion that someone is behind you, when you reach for a box of Cheez-Its. Someone else's hand gets there first and you nearly jump out of your socks.

"Hey," the Red Hood wheezes. He's clutching his side like he has a cramp. "Question: if I buy these for you, will you patch me up?"

"What?"

"I may have been cut," he admits. Judging by the angle of his hunch, it's a little more serious than just a 'cut'. "So: do we have a deal?"

The thought occurs to you, as you help him up five flights of stairs to your apartment, that you're escorting a strange man into your place of residence. You haven't even given your roommate a heads-up, though you're pretty sure tomorrow's his night off.

Sure enough, the only person there to greet you when you walk in is your cat. As per usual, he tries to escape. The Red Hood gently but firmly ushers him inside with his foot with such ease he must have one of his own. "It's cute," he says, still clutching his side.

"Thanks," you say. "He always tries to get out, but if he actually escapes then he just freezes in the hallway until I bring him back inside." Then you realize that you're discussing your cat, of all things, with the Red Hood. You clear your throat and say, "Let me take a look at you."

The crime lord and cat trail after you into the bathroom. It gets a little cramped because the Red Hood's about as small as a fridge is small, but you two figure out a passable system: he's too tall, even while sitting down, and you don't want to bend in half while you stitch him. So you sit on the toilet, he stands in front of you, and your cat jumps on top of his leather jacket on the counter to observe and judge. Luckily, the suture kit is still in the bathroom from when you thought you would have to stitch yourself up, so it's not long before you're instructing him to lift up the hem of his shirt so you can see the damage.

You hiss between your teeth at the sight. Someone grazed his side with a knife, by the looks of it, but the wound is deep. It might go all the way to his subcutaneous tissue.

After you clean it off, you're sure that it does. "You call this a cut?"

"I've had worse," he says gruffly.

"And you're still alive?" You squint at him.

He huffs like that's funny.

"They basically cut you in two! I don't know if I can fix this. I've never stitched someone up before!"

"What do you mean?" He tilts his head. "You stitched yourself up, remember? You told me you would."

Shit. Of all the ways to stick your foot in your mouth—

"It wasn't that bad," you say weakly.

“It looked pretty bad.”

“It just looked bad because I was wearing a light colored shirt. Don’t worry; I’ve learned my lesson.”

The Red Hood scratches under your cat’s chin. “About wearing light colored clothing, or about getting shot?”

You’re trying to thread the suture needle, but the stupid thread won’t cooperate. “Hmm?”

“Which lesson did you learn?”

“The former, mostly. Believe it or not, ‘try not to get shot’ is something most people, including me, know intuitively.”

"Let me see."

"Yeah, right," you say, "my apartment's basically a strip club, isn't it? First your shirt's coming up, then mine. Absolutely—" You slap his hand away— "Not. I'm fine. Now hold still while I stab you."

The process goes by quickly. He stands like a statue the whole time, like he's used to the pain of getting stitches. Considering his profession, he probably is.

Actually, you can see a couple healed-over scars on his torso just from the small bit of skin he's revealed by pulling up his shirt. And, you're pretty sure, a perfectly defined six-pack, but that's none of your business.

"I don't have the fancy dissolving sutures, unfortunately," you say while you tie off the thread. "These should come out in about a week."

"Yeah, I know," he grunts, letting his shirt fall back down. And you're not disappointed. At all. "Same time next week, then?"

"What?"

"To get them out."

"Uh." Your brain stalls out. You'd been operating under the assumption that this was just another freak coincidental run-in.

Is it just you, or is the Red Hood looking to make a friend out of you? Or maybe just a free pseudo-surgeon?

"Sure," you say. It's not like you can stop him, really.

"Thanks," he says, stroking your cat one more time. Then he nudges the pest off his jacket and shrugs it on, even though there's not really a need for it. The weather's been pretty mild the last week.

You walk him out the door. He pauses in the hallway, turns, and says, "By the way, what's your name?"

You tilt your head and tell it to him.

"Nice to meet you," he says. Then he walks away.

You watch him walk down the hallway until your cat escapes, and then you have to chase him. You're pretty sure the Red Hood sees it, because low-pitched laughter hits your ears as you gather the little bastard up, but when you look, the vigilante's gone.

"God, I hope he's up to date on his tetanus shot."

You find yourself at the coffee shop the next morning, determined not to let a buff bookworm change your routine. You're the first customer, and they have your order ready by the time you finish setting up your stuff on a small table in the corner of the shop, far from where the line will build up when more people trickle in.

Like clockwork, the bookworm wanders in just a couple minutes after you do, orders two coffees, and settles down across the room with his front to you.

Every time you glance up, he's utterly focused on his book. He's probably not watching you. Right?

Fifteen minutes later, the coffees untouched, he stands up. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he picks one up, approaches the counter, and...

Walks right past it.

Walks in your direction.

You stare blatantly, and he holds your gaze with a set jaw and something a little challenging in his gaze.

He's walking to you.

The coffee cup slams on the table, splashing a little over the edge, and you jump to move your laptop away from the liquid.

"Shit, sorry," the bookworm says. He runs away.

You stare until you realize he's grabbing napkins and hurrying back. At least ten, even though the spill's pretty small, and he piles them all onto the table.

His face gets redder the longer you watch without saying anything.

Once he's absolutely sure your laptop is safe from the couple drops he spilled, he balls them all into one large fist and rushes out, "I'm sorry—I was supposed to meet my brother here, but he canceled, and your drink cup's empty, so I was just wondering if you wanted this one? It's a little warm, but..."

"But free is good," you say, deciding to put him out his misery. And he certainly looks miserable rambling in front of you. Like he's mortified for some reason. "Um, thanks. What..."

"Just an iced coffee. Probably watered down."

You take a sip, just to be polite. It is watered down, but he didn't add any milk to it, so that's probably a good thing. "Thanks..." You tilt the cup to look at the name written on the side. "Jason?"

"Yep." He nods. He's still standing in front of you, like he wants to be invited to sit, but you have a lot of work to do, and he's a complete stranger, and all his stuff is still on his table across the room.

Something clatters behind the counter. You both turn in time to see the two baristas duck out of sight, whispering furiously. Probably about the spectacle you two are making.

"You go to GCU's campus library a lot, right?" Jason asks suddenly.

"Yeah, I do. So do you." You don't phrase it like a question.

"Yeah," he says. "It's peaceful to read in there. Quieter than my apartment."

"Okay," you say slowly. You're really not interested in this conversation, but you don't want to be rude.

He must understand you, though, because he rubs the back of his head and steps backwards, mumbling something about getting back to his book.

Jason's brother never does end up meeting him. You tell yourself that's why you keep glancing at him. Once or twice, you two peek at each other at the same time, and you always look away first, face hot like he's caught you doing something wrong.

The next time you go to the library, it's packed. The weather has turned, so students have nothing better to do than prepare for their finals. You head to the quiet floor, slowly losing hope that you'll find a seat.

A head snaps up the moment you walk in, dark-haired with a striking streak of white at his forehead. Jason.

Something like relief passes over his face, and he waves you over.

"I saved your seat," he whispers, dragging his bag off of the chair.

"Thanks," you say, actually touched. "You didn't have to."

He shrugs. "You're my reading buddy."

The next day, he's sitting at the library's entrance when you walk in. Jason shakes his head. "All the seats were already taken when I got here."

"Ugh." Strictly speaking, you don't need to study tonight. You're pretty confident about the next test's material, and you're also pretty burnt out.

"We could check out the Student Center?" he suggests. As if it's a given that the two of you are going to spend the afternoon together. And, you realize, after two straight weeks of studying in his proximity, you don't mind the presumption. That's how you made your closest friend in undergrad, anyway.

In fact, you think you might want to get to know Jason. Maybe ask about his white streak; you've been growing more and more curious about it. And why he's about seven feet tall and two hundred fifty pounds of muscle but has a passion for romance novels.

"I don't think I've studied in there before."

"It's not too bad, but it's a little louder than the library."

So you two head to the Student Center, but he doesn't open his book, and you open your laptop but don't turn it on. He buys you coffee, though you insist that you can pay for it yourself, and a simple query into what book he's reading currently turns into a two-hour conversation.

Jason likes to read every genre, but he likes classics and romance best. He doesn't just have one brother, he has four, and a sister. He's not on the football team like you'd assumed; he just likes to work out. He's finishing up his sophomore year of undergrad studying English Lit—he sees how your smile freezes at those words, and you're asking how old he is, and he's laughing when he tells you he took a couple gap years. He's your age, actually, and that's relieving for reasons you can't quite put to words.

When you check your watch and curse at the time—it's almost time for your cat's dinner—he asks for your number, and you put it into his phone.

You feel good on your walk home. You haven't made a new friend since the first semester of vet school; the course load is too demanding for you to participate in any GCU clubs. Your roommate asks why you're smiling and you wave him off. Of course, your cat doesn't care that you're in a good mood. He only cares about getting fed.

You see Jason a couple more times over the week, and soon you're too embarrassed to admit that you thought he was stalking you. He's almost as bad a texter as you are, responding at such hours you're half-convinced he doesn't sleep, so you're less self-conscious about taking hours to respond.

You've just gotten around to answering his last text when something knocks against your window.

You drop the phone on your face.

The Red Hood is laughing at you when you open the window to let him in. You'd forgotten he was coming, but you don't say so. He tumbles in, moving a little stiffly, but a lot better than he'd been last week. Your cat, the little traitor, runs to greet him and rubs against his ankles, purring like an engine. The Red Hood bends to pet him. "Hey, kitty." The red helmet tips up and those unnerving white lenses fix on you. "Hey, doc. Here to get my stitches out."

"How have you been feeling?" you ask.

"Good," he says, almost defensively.

It makes you suspect that something is wrong, but when you all pile into the bathroom again like it's a clown car and he pulls up his shirt, the wound is healing nicely. No pink or heat that signals infection, no puffy skin. You remove the stitches quickly, and again he hesitates, like he wants to stay longer.

You find yourself thinking about Jason. You're pretty sure you wish he was here.

"Well, thanks."

"Anytime."

He pauses. "Really?"

You shrug. "I mean, not if you need a hospital. Then I'd expect you to head straight to a hospital. But stuff like this—no worse than this, ideally—I guess I can help you with."

"You're pretty cool for a vet," the Red Hood says. "The last one I visited kept freaking out on me for stealing codeine."

"Well, that's a restricted—wait, you were stealing codeine? What for?"

He shrugs.

"What were you using it for," you repeat sternly.

"Okay!" he says loudly. "Well, thanks for patching me up, doc. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Wait," you call out uselessly, but he vaults out the window. You gasp and rush to the sill, but there's no Red Hood-shaped puddle on the ground. Instead, his rapidly shrinking form disappears in the distance, swinging between the buildings that make up the Gotham skyline.

You don't see the Red Hood for a while after that, but you hear whispers of him wearing a new costume. You get caught up with finals and Jason, who asks you out after the semester ends.

Your vehement 'yes' takes you by surprise. Him, too, judging by his wide eyes and wider smile. You wonder why he asked if he thought you would say no. You wonder why you didn't realize earlier how desperately you wanted him to.

Now that you're out of school, you pick up shifts at the vet clinic. By some unhappy circumstance, they can only schedule you for the evening shifts. Jason works nights, too, and you've never fully squirreled out where he works, but at least you can spend some days together.

It's when you're walking back from your first shift that you see the Red Hood again after almost three weeks of radio silence. He pulls up next to you on the motorcycle. It's so late that there's no one on the road, so he stays on the asphalt and idles along at your walking pace until you break and say, "Long time no see, Hood."

"Did you miss me?" he teases.

You stop walking, because.

Most of his costume changed. Because it's summer, and even the nights are hot and muggy, you assume.

The pants are the same. So are the boots. But his jacket is red and sleeveless and has a hood that goes down to his eyebrows, the armor beneath short-sleeved, which means most of his arms are bare.

And...

Your mouth is dry. You swallow.

You're pretty sure not even Batman is that ripped. He looks like he's chiseled out of marble.

The longer you're speechless, the more amused he gets. You don't know how you know that, but something about his posture seems smug.

"You're taking 'red hood' seriously now, are you?" is all you manage to say. Because what else are you supposed to comment on? His bare forearms? His veins are so beautifully pronounced, they would be a dream to take blood from, but you have a boyfriend of a whole one and a half weeks, and you may be many things, but you're not a cheater.

He laughs, then pulls his hood low when it slips back a bit. His voice is still modulated, although it's not through a red helmet anymore. This is more like a muzzle. You can't tell if the eye covering is part of it, or like the domino masks that Batman and Robin wear, but the lenses are red now instead of white.

He's really leaning into the theme.

"You want a ride?"

"We're two blocks from my apartment."

He shrugs. "I'm heading there anyway."

What the hell. You've already hopped on the back of his bike before. It's easier to do so the second time. You wrap your arms around his torso again, and when his arms settle over your own, they're warm with his body heat, but not hard, even though the muscles look sharp enough to cut glass. He's firm all over, but his skin is soft, apart from the raised, bumpy scars that seem to cover him from head-to-toe. It makes you worry about him, just a little.

He doesn't drive fast this time. He drives slow enough to hold a conversation and tosses over his shoulder, "So what's new with you?"

"Not much," you say into his ear. Is it just you, or does he shiver? "I finished another semester of vet school."

"Top grades, I'm sure. Did you get extra credit for patching me up?"

"I wish." No, your grades are good, but not exceptional. But exceptional is what got you into vet school. As long as you graduate with a DVM, even if you're the lowest in your class, you're a licensed doctor. There's some relief in that. "The dude I thought was stalking me asked me out, actually."

"Really?" he asks, interested and alert. "Was he really stalking you? Do you need me to scare him off for you?"

"No," you say, smiling at the thought of the Red Hood trying to scare off Jason. They're about the same build, now that you think about it, which you're sure the vigilante isn't used to. And Jason's never been anything but gentle and polite, but you saw an undercurrent of something strong, something like titanium, under that gentle spirit the one time he stood up for one of the baristas at the coffee shop that you first spoke to each other. He hadn't needed to do much apart from stand up and glare at the beleaguered corporate guy angry that there wasn't enough sugar in his coffee, and the dude shut up and scurried out as fast as he could.

It was probably the hottest thing you've ever seen him do, except for that one time you pushed your laptop a little too close to the edge of your desk while studying, it tipped over, and he caught it one-handed without looking up from his book. What can you say? Saving you a couple hundred dollars in getting that fixed was hot.

"It was a misunderstanding," you say. "We just ended up in the same places at the same times."

A gust of wind pushes back the Red Hood's hood, exposing a head of thick, dark hair, the same shade of black as Jason's. The motorcycle swerves in his haste to pull his hood back up, and when you reach your apartment and hop off the bike, he's pushing his hair back, back, beneath the hood.

What's the point of ditching the helmet if he's just going to be fussing with the hood all the time?

"What's new with you?" you ask, scuffing your toe against the sidewalk. Your shoes are falling apart; the sole is peeling away.

"Same old, same old," he says. His voice sounds rougher, but that might just be the new modulator.

"How's your side?"

"How's yours?" he counters. "You still haven't let me see it. I bet it scarred because you were too stubborn to take my advice and patch it up."

You will never admit that he's right. You challenge, "Let's compare scars, then," knowing full well his armor dips below his pants. It's a little silly to picture the Red Hood wearing an armored one-piece, but that's all you can imagine.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. It dislodges the hood. A patch of hair falls down to his forehead, and it's white.

But the back of his hair is black.

White and black—

Your stomach flips.

"I thought you had a boyfriend, honey. Why're you asking me to strip?"

So that's what all the teasing's been about. He hasn't been flirting—or he has, his own weird version of flirting, because he's a dumbass.

For a moment all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, then you flex your fingers to regain feeling in them. You roll your eyes and say, "I think we've established that my apartment is basically a strip club. Why don't you come up and show me, Jason?"

"Well, I'm flattered, but—what?" He splutters like he's choking on his own tongue. Serves him right. "I'm not—why do you think that—I mean, I could be anyone—"

Yeah, he can have his little crisis on the street. You tug on your own fringe, then swipe into the building.

You hear his muffled cursing as the door closes.

You look forward to him catching up.

(My requests are open, so let me know if you want me to write anything in particular! Also let me know if you want to be added to a taglist.)

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[dreamescapeswriting]

Whispers Of Belonging ~ KSM [MATURE WARNING]

CONTINUATION OF THIS PIECE

WORD COUNT: 4.6K

GENRE: mafia AU, cinderella(ish), feelings of not belonging, people speaking down to the reader, Seungmin being the soft boy he is meant to be and making her feel welcome,SMUT MINORS DNI, protected sex, above a crowd, seungmin making the reader feel wanted and special,

PAIRING: Seungmin X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

As the two of you stepped out of the boutique, Seungmin watched you closely, your hands clutching the bags of clothes he had just purchased for you, not a single thing even breaking his card limit and nothing felt enough for you.

Seungmin felt guilt weighing down on him after one of his men tried to kick you out of the changing room in your underwear and he was determined to make up to you even if it was the last thing he did.

"I'm sorry about Bailey again, he can be overzealous at times," Seungmin added as he shot his guard a glance who was looking anywhere but at the two of you.

"No harm, no foul." You laughed nervously not wanting to make it into a bigger deal than it was. Seungmin had already bought you so much that he didn't need to continue to be sorry.

"Will you still save me a dance?" He arched his brow at you, extending his hand as he carefully lifted it to his lips and kissed your skin softly.

"It would be an honour to dance with you," He added, your heart fluttering as you stared at him. You'd heard stories of the man but you'd never come face to face with him until now. 

"I will try, I'm working at the event as well as attending so it might be a little hard," You admit shyly. You weren't ashamed to admit you'd be working the event, everyone needed to work after all, but you weren't sure you'd even have time to grab a glass of water never mind dance with someone.

"I'm sure we can arrange something with your boss," Seungmin countered as you nodded a little, smiling at him before heading in the direction of your car. 

Seungmin watched you the whole time, biting back a smirk as he felt a flutter in his chest. Bailey watched his boss, it was a rare display of kindness that he was showing to you and he didn't know if he liked his boss this way or not.

"Back inside, I need a suit and I want the staff to find everything that will fit Miss YLN's style and that is in her size sent to her place." He ordered, turning back to the cold boss that everyone knew him as.

Packages had been arriving all week long, at the work office and it was a little overwhelming. Everything from clothes to accessories were inside of the boxes and it was starting to make you a little uneasy. What if Seungmin was expecting something more than just a dance in return for the items? 

"Do you remember the plan?" Your best friend - Chloe - asked you as she walked with you toward the back entrance of the event hall where tonight's ball was being held in. The further you walked inside the more out of place you began to feel in the dress he'd purchased for you. It was a masterpiece creation, crafted from the finest of silk, a midnight blue colour that shimmered every time you moved making it look like it was lit by a thousand stars. It hugged your frame perfectly, accentuating every curve with elegance and grace, dipping with a modest neckline teasing just a little of your breasts. 

"Just one dance, give him some excuse about needing to be somewhere else and then I'll go back to the kitchens, change into my outfit and finish working," You assured her, smiling a little as she smirked at you. The whole week leading up to the ball Chloe had been encouraging you to go through with it, that it would be a once-in-a-lifetime thing but you felt so out of place and the silver tiara that Seungmin had sent for you to wear wasn't helping that situation.

"You look hot," Chloe promises, holding you tightly before smirking at you, straightening out your hair one last time and admiring the makeup she'd done for you tonight before letting you go.

Out of the fishbowl and into the ocean, you stared around at all the people who were inside the ball unease washed over you like a chilling breeze and you realised how out of depth you truly were. 

Every eye in the room felt like a spotlight, casting judgment on you as you made your way through the other elegantly dressed guests trying to find Seungmin.

Whispers started to follow your every move, their hushed tones feeling like a dagger digging into your back leaving you feeling more exposed and vulnerable to the world. 

"Come on," You whispered to yourself, your eyes darting from one corner of the room to the next, desperately searching for any sign of Seungmin.

"I'm sure she served me at an event once," A voice giggled making your heart sink and your hands begin to tremble, you should never have agreed to this. You were out of depth in this place, everyone here had no doubt seen you and it would get back to Seungmin that you were a waitress. An imposter at his ball and he'd probably hate you for it.

As you continued to wander aimlessly through the ballroom, the comments about you working other events grew louder and your sense of isolation deepened with each passing second until you decided to make your way back to the exit. You were almost there when you felt a hand gently touch your shoulder,

"There you are sweetheart, I'm sorry I'm late, I've been looking everywhere for you." You stared up at Seungmin, his eyes warm as he stared down at you with a smile on his face. 

"It's okay," You breathed out, his being near you was like a sense of belonging washed over you and he smiled taking your hand in his and gently placing a kiss on the top of your hand.

"Does he know he's dating the help?" Someone laughed loudly from your left, but Seungmin either chose to ignore them or simply hadn't heard them as he began to walk you through the hall again.

"How about we dance in a little while, I thought I might introduce you to some friends of mine," Seungmin suggested as he linked your arm with his, unease filling you once again as he led you toward a group of men. You were only supposed to be here for a dance, if you were too long Chloe wouldn't be able to cover too much and you'd no doubt get fired.

"Changbin, enough details about your latest heists, I'd like you all to meet someone," Seungmin called out as seven men turned to look at you, your whole body burnt at the sudden attention you were getting from all of them.

"Lovely to meet you, Seungmin's never brought along a date before." The one known as Changbin said making Seungmin's cheeks flush and your whole body tingle.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," You said, your voice betraying you by giving off a hint of nervousness.

"No need to be nervous, sweetheart. They don't bite," Suengmin whispered in your ear, his hand gently rubbing circles on your lower back, the small action sending shockwaves through your body and yet relaxing you at the same time. For some reason you believed him, you felt safe with him and that no one would hurt you while he was around.

As time grew on you found yourself drawn into Seungmin's world, forgetting all about work and getting swept up in the whirlwind of laughter and conversations shared between all of the men. The more you stood there the more you realised that all of them were more than just members of a criminal organisation, but they were a family, bound by loyalty and mutual respect for one another. Standing there, you found yourself feeling a sense of purpose that you'd been searching for your entire life, a sense of belonging that was filling the void inside of you.

"Welcome to the family," One of the men, Chan, whispered as they finally began to leave you and Seungmin alone once again. 

"Now, can I get my dance?" Seungmin winks at you, your hand placed in his as he leads you toward the dance floor. 

Seungmin led you onto the dance floor, his movements graceful yet commanding. As the two of you swayed to the music, you couldn't help but marvel at the effortless charm and sophistication he exuded. The sense of belonging washed over you as you danced in his arms, the two of you enveloped in your private cocoon of warmth.

Your steps were synchronized, a seamless dance of two souls drawn together by fate. Seungmin's eyes never left yours. In that moment, you glimpsed the man behind the legend, the layers of his persona peeled back to reveal a vulnerability you hadn't expected.

As the music swelled to a crescendo, Seungmin drew you closer, his touch sending shivers down your spine. 

"You're a natural," he murmured, his voice low and husky, as you felt your cheeks flushing with warmth and your heart pounding in your chest.

"Thank you," You whispered, your voice barely audible above the music. As the two of you continued to dance unease began to creep its way through the cracks of your facade. Whispers of guests around you grew louder, their words like poison arrows that pierced the fragile cacoon of happiness you had been in.

You tried your best to ignore them, to lose yourself in the safety of Seungmin's embrace but their voices continued to echo in your ears, mocking and taunting you with cruel words.

"Who does she think she is, waltzing in here as if she belongs?" Someone grumbled as Seungmin spun you around, bringing you back into his chest but you could no longer enjoy this. Their words grew louder to you as if they were all holding microphones and speaking to the whole room.

"I heard she's just using him to get what she wants in life." A female voice mumbled, your eyes shooting over to her to see her glaring in your direction.

"I bet she's fucking him for money, she could never afford that dress alone." Another voice ripped through you,

"Did you see the way she was with Changbin and Chan? She's probably trying to cosy up to the whole crew." Each word was a dagger to your heart until you were unable to bear the scrutiny any longer. You tore yourself away from Seungmin, your breaths becoming ragged gasps,

"Yn? What's wrong?" Seungmin's voice was filled with concern as he stared at you but it was as if you no longer saw him as tears pricked in the corners of your eyes. You stumbled toward the nearest exit, dropping the small clutch bag you had been carrying but no longer carrying as you sprinted out of the suffocating confines of the ballroom.

Seungmin called out to you, his voice once again filled with concern as he bent down to collect your bag, frowning as you disappeared through the crowds leaving him with nothing but a memory of your night together.

"I can help you forget her," Someone breathed out beside Seungmin but he merely snapped his fingers as Bailey appeared beside him, escorting the woman away leaving Seungmin thinking of ways to find you again since he would never be able to ignore the spark that had ignited inside of you both.

The bell above the entrance of the small cafe you'd started working in tinkled and you got ready to greet the next customer. Ever since your mishap at the ball, you'd quit the job you had in hopes it would stop Seungmin from searching for you. You'd never felt so embarrassed in your life and you hoped that the small dance with you was enough for him to leave you alone. Even if it did pain you to never see him again.

"Everyone out!" The voice you'd heard less than a week ago bellowed out, your head shot up to see Bailey standing there with his gun at the ready. People rushed out of the cafe and you stared at Bailey who had a slight smirk playing on his cheeks.

"Boss doesn't like it when people hide from him," He stated with a soft tone, putting his gun away as you stared at him. The bell above the door once again rang,

"I'm going to get fired for this, you know that right?" You cocked a brow at Seungmin, your heart going into overdrive as you saw him once again. You hated your heart for betraying you, he was in a different world to you, and the two of you would never work.

"You dropped this," He said as he held out the small clutch bag, your phone had been in that and you'd been terrified you'd never see it again.

"Thanks, I-I thought I'd lost this," You stammered, your voice tinged with gratitude as Seungmin offered you a faint smile, his gaze softening. 

"Bailey, out. Make sure we're not disturbed." He ordered in a cold tone, a completely different Seungmin to the one you knew.

As soon as the two of you were alone he held out a chair for you before taking a seat across from you.

"I made it my mission to find you...I couldn't bear the thought of...you losing something so precious," He saved himself from wanting to tell you he came for his own selfish reasons because he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. 

"Thanks," You whispered, your eyes staring down at the table not daring to look at Seungmin but he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours as he clasped your hand in his.

"I hadn't heard what was being said at the event," He admitted as he gently ran his fingers over your skin,

"Rest assured if I had, they wouldn't live to speak again," He grumbled a little, his eyes flicking with darkness making you bite your lip a little.

"It's nothing. They were right, I don't belong in that world...Your world. I'm not meant for it." You mumbled, trying to take your hands away from Seungmin but he gently squeezed yours softly.

"You belong at any dance I take you to, you belong anywhere I take you. YOU belong in my world." HJe told you, his voice commanding and yet reassuring,

"Anyone who dares to look down on you isn't worth the time of day. They're mere flakes of dirt on your shoe that aren't deserving to be in your presence." He assured you, your eyes brimming with tears as you felt your heart overflowing with gratitude from him.

"I-I don't know what to say," You admitted, your voice trembling a little. Seungmin squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Say you'll give me another chance," He implored, he'd been wanting to get you to come out with him again and this time he was going to show you how much you truly belonged by his side.

"Say you'll let me show you how special you are. How you belong in my world." You stared at him, biting on your bottom lip as you thought about it. Seungmin made you feel as though you could do anything and when you were together you felt as though you could rule the world so you nodded.

"I'd like that," Seungmin smiled leaning across and brushing a small kiss against your cheek. Seungmin smiled as he gently raised from the chair, determined to show everyone that they were wrong about you and that they should worship the ground you walk on.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow night at 7." He said, watching you as you nervously raised from your chair and nodded,

"Sure. I'll wear one of the many dresses you got for me," You teased softly as a blush began to creep its way onto Seungmin's cheeks and a smirk played on your lips. 

"I'll see you then," He whispered before placing yet another kiss on your cheek and leaving you alone, with a lot to explain to your new boss as to why his business was empty.

The night arrived and you were standing by the window of your apartment waiting for him, your heart fluttering with excitement about the night you were going to have. Seungmin had been non-stop texting you ever since the day before, fueling your crush on him even more. There was a knock on the door sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins as you rushed to the door, smoothing down the fabric of your gown.

When the door opened Seungmin's mouth dropped open at the sight of you, he was dressed in a tailored suit and holding a bouquet of red roses for you.

"You look stunning," He murmured, you felt your cheeks flush with warmth and your heart thumped harder against your chest.

"Thank you, you look very handsome," You replied, Seungmin held out the bouquet for you.

"For the most beautiful girl at the ball," He said with a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips, you giggled taking them into your apartment and placing them into a vase of water. 

"Shall we?" He smirked, taking your arm in his and making his way down the staircase with you close to him the whole time. 

"I got a limo for us, I wanted us to arrive in style," Seungmin smirked at you as you stepped toward the waiting car, your mouth dropping open in shock. 

"No back entrances for the belle of the ball," He whispers in your ear before opening the car door and helping you inside, your heart racing at the thought of what adventures awaited you tonight.

As it turned out the night had been filled with you and Seungmin dancing so much your feet were staring to kill you from being on the floor, people had stared a lot but not one had dared to say a word about you tonight. You didn't know if it was because Seungmin had threatened them beforehand or if they were a different crowd from the one from before. But you'd been left with a group of girls all gossiping about their dates, which you'd met at the last ball. 

"We will date dangerous men." You heard one of the women mention as you laughed a little, 

"My ears are burning," Changbin chuckled, snaking his arm around his date and smiling over at you.

"Nice to see you again, Yn," He tipped his head at you before taking his date out onto the dance floor, all of the men slowly coming back and taking their dates one by one until it was just you and Jisung's girl and Jisung who seemed to be talking amongst themselves.

A little worry began to wash over you as you felt alone again, the feeling of not belonging beginning to creep onto you until you felt a hand on your lower back.

"Sorry, I try not to discuss business when I'm in good company but sometimes they have to steal me away," Relief washed over you as Seungmin smiled down at you and you felt your heart stutter a little.

"Shall we go somewhere more private? I want to show you something." Seungmin smiles, taking hold of your elbow and nodding at Bailey to follow you both before he leads you to a staircase at the back of the room that was blocked by velvet ropes and a "closed sign." Seungmin lifts the ropes and walks up the stairs, leading you with Bailey trailing behind.

"Make sure nobody comes up," Seungmin ordered as Bailey stood at the base of the stairs and folded his arms across his chest.

"What are we doing?" You giggle a little as Seungmin winks at you, taking your hand and pulling you along the narrow hallway until you reach a balcony that overlooks the ballroom. Excitement washed over your body as you looked down a the people attending the ball.

"I wanted to show you the best view, to look over the people that had spoken down to you before." He smiled, standing behind you as you were pinned to the waist-high wall unable to move.

"Are we allowed to be up here?" You breathed out, your stomach clenching from just how close Seungmin was pressed against you.

"We're the biggest donors, we can do whatever the fuck we want." His breath caught on your ear making your whole body shiver and your thighs rub together. All night long you'd been needy for Seungmin and it was becoming slightly more unbearable as the night went on.

"I love being able to watch everyone." You admitted, looking down at everyone as Seungmin stared at you.

"How do you feel about them watching you?" His voice dropped an octave, shivers running down your spine as he ran his hands down your hips.

"W-Watching me?" You stuttered out as he pulled the layers of your gown up revealing your legs.

"Say the word and I'll stop...But I need you," He whispered as he dragged his teeth along the back of your neck, pulling your dress up higher exposing the tops of your thighs. You inhale sharply, your heart thumping harder than before, there must have been at least three hundred people down there.

"Do you want them to watch us?" You arched a brow.

"I want them to look up here and have no idea I'm fucking you...But I want you to come in front of all these people, sweetheart. To prove that you own them and that they should be the ones scared of you instead of you them," He whispered in your ear, his hands gliding over your hips and down between your thighs and you automatically spread your legs wider for him. Allowing him to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles.

"I'm going to slide my cock inside of you, fucking you until you come for me,"  He whispered, your hands flying behind him and undoing his belt as heat floods your entire body. You looked out at the sea of people below you, wondering if they had any idea what you were doing. If they were completely oblivious to what was happening up above them while they danced and drank their champagne, 

"You're so wet for me," He groans as he continues to rub your clit, your body shaking and he'd barely started. 

"I've wanted you all night," You admit, your hands gripping the small wall in front of you as you felt the tip of his cock pressing against your cunt.

"Hold onto the wall tightly," HGe orders as you brace yourself against the cool brick, your fingers gripping the edge tightly as he pushes his thick cok into you. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you tried not to cry out at the stretch,

"Fucking Christ, you're so wet for me." He groans loudly in your ear, his hips stilling as he fills you completely, rubbing your clit gently.

"You're made for me," He whispers in your ear as you press your lips together,

"You're made to rule over everyone," He told you as he slowly began to pull out of you, only to push back in making you squeeze around him, whimpering a little.

"Fuck," He moans out as you glance down to see if anyone had noticed but no one was paying you any attention and you allowed yourself to moan.

"Oh god," You whimper, your nails digging into the brick in front of you as you let your eyes roll back. Seungmin smirks as he begins to fuck into you ruthlessly, no longer caring if someone were to look right now and see. In fact, he wanted them to. He wanted them to see that you were his and any disrespect that they sent your way had a direct impact on him also.

"Fuck, Seungmin." You cry out as you felt him getting rougher with his movement, the tip of his cock hitting that one sensitive part that made it impossible to keep quiet.

Your legs were starting to shake as he pounded into you, the people below completely forgotten as you gave in to the pleasure.

"Cum for me baby, you're doing so fucking good." The praise sent shivers down your spine as you cry out his name, your head spinning while you squeeze around his cock. You felt nothing but the deep euphoria taking over you as you cum around him, your moans coming out strangled as your legs shake beneath you, buckling a little but Seungmin holds your waist up, bucking into you as he fills the condom he was wearing.

"Fuck," He whimpers, his hips bucking as you continued to clench around him, whimpering his name until the two of you slowly pulled apart from one another. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A year Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure I look okay? I don't want to ruin their day," You told Seungmin as you once again checked your outfit over, brushing your hands over the small bump that you'd skillfully hidden under the bridesmaid dress you'd been asked to wear by Jisung's wife to be.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." He assured you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"This is your fault," You scolded him, the two of you were more than happy to be starting a family, even if it was only a year since the two of you began a relationship, it felt like the right time and happy accidents happened all of the time.

"I told you I thought it would be fine in the pool." He chuckled as you smacked him with your clutch, making your way to the other girls and all their dates.

"Letting a girl beat you up?" Changbin arches a brow at Seungmin who quickly glares at him.

"Proposed to yours yet?" He teased knowing Changbin was scared to pop the question to his girlfriend yet and was lashing out at everyone else because of it. 

"What dress does she have?" Jisung pried, staring at you all but Hyunjin pulled him back away from his fiance.

"Leave my muse alone, you'll see your girl in less than 20 minutes relax." He chuckled making you all giggle and shake your heads at them, your eyes flicking over to Seungmin as you pictured what your wedding day was eventually going to look like. All you could picture was your little boy or girl walking down the aisle with you toward their dad as you started another chapter of your lives together and you couldn't think of anything more perfect.

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[anni-writes]

teamwork

Kuroo Tetsurou x reader | very suggestive fluff

word count: 1.8k

Warnings: post timeskip Kuroo x coworker! reader, fluff nsfw-ish language

@ anni says: I'm Kuroo Tetsurou's whore. but I also adore him. this was just another innocent self indulgent drabble that was lost in my drafts, so there you go, enjoy!

the lingering stares, the coffee excuses, the light subtle touches while exchanging papers, the gossipy chatting every lunch break,

the way you look so goddamn hot when you're focused in your work and how that sometimes distracts him from his own work…

and also the inhumanly strenght he need to gather to divert his stare from your plump thighs when you cross your legs under the desk… the privileged view from his desk across from yours can be also a burden sometimes

and then there's that damn high heels you use… not often, though. only when there's important meetings. makes you feel more confident, you said once. but god, when you use it he just want to lay on the floor for you to step on him

there's more and more and so much more about the office bond he has with you that irks him both in the right and wrong ways.

working in the JVA marketing implied that your most strong stakeholder was the promotion division, once the areas needed each other to thrive

therefore, makes total sense that you and Kuroo were so close to each other, right?

it's normal when you're training a new intern and he tags along with the excuse to help you, but spends the whole time glaring menacingly at the guy when he stares at your cleavage a little to much, isn't it?

or when he passes by your desk, leaving a chocolate once every other week, with his handwriting in a note thay says “that presentation was sick, congratulations” or “you deserve a raise, but take this chocolate in the meantime” or some other silly thing that makes you smile

your eyes always dart to him, smiling softly,

but you also can't help but think to yourself that he wanna fuck you so bad— and the thought itself is so entertaining that you shake your head, snorting, as he eyes you puzzled

the tension is clear for you as much as it is for him… he, too, checked all your boxes. a handsome smoking hot smart and competent man that has his eyes set on you? you'd be crazy not to enjoy

so, eventually, you would throw paper balls at him while he's focused, making him roll his eyes and smirk

but also never ceased to bring him coffee when you go get for you. you know how he likes, he works so close to you, why wouldn't you bring him one too?

and the glint in his eyes make it worth it every damn time

neither of you were making the first move so soon, but everyone in the office knows about the unspoken bond you share, gaining some attention in gossip groups around the floor

but then, one day, you were working until very late, apparently alone at the office.

and suddenly, he popped up back, with a can of beer, a loosened tie, two buttons opened, walking torwards your desk, placing the beer beside your papers

you looked at him tilting your head puzzled

“Where did you get that?”

“At the bar across the street”

i tilted my head even more

“You were at the bar across the street and came back to the office to hand me a beer?”

“Exactly”

he said matter-of-factly, making you snort. his words were subtly slured, indicating he drank enough to get at least tipsy

“Why?”

“Why not?”

he answered shrugging, and you read through his attempt to divert the topic. but you also know he's very stubborn, so you just brush it off

“How did you even know I was still in the office? It's late…”

you say, while opening the can while looking at the hour on your computer

“It's the first Monday of the month, you always stay late finishing the monthly report… Besides, I saw the light on from across the street, just put two and two together”

“Damn, you're good—”

you say, amazed at how he memorized your routine by now, while sipping your beer, sighing as the cold liquid soothes your tense muscles, feeling the last motivation to end the report today getting obliterated

he watches your every move like a hawk, walking sneakly behind your back to rub your shoulders

you sigh, feeling a chill down your spine with his touches, humming softly with the massage

“You're done with the report?"

he asked, his fingers rubbing circles in your back muscles, sliding to your shoulders. you lean in his touch

“No… But I think I can finish it tomorrow morning," you reply, trying to suppress the pleasure in your voice from his magical touch.

he chuckles lightly, lowering his torso to lean closer, his breath hitting your neck, making you shiver embarrassingly

"That's what I thought," he says softly, his hands never ceasing their movements, the tension that's been building between the two of you for months feels like it's finally reaching a boiling point

before things get awkward, you start to stand up from your chair, closing your laptop on the desk, sipping your beer casually,

when he took advantage of the moment to pull your chair away and leaning closer, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth on your ear

"Don't I deserve a… reward… for the beer and the massage?”

he whispered, the warmth of his breath making your heart race, his arms encircling youe waist in a new way… despite your supposed closeness, it's the first time you feel him this close.

his voice is like velvet, seductive and irresistible, making you question if this was a good idea.

you pathetically place your free hand on the desk to anchor yourself, feeling the weight of the intensity that has been building between us

"Is that what you've been thinking about all along? Pinning me on the desk when there's no one around?"

you whisper back, your voice dropping to a sensual tone as you lean in his chest, looking at him through your shoulders

the tension is palpable, your mutual attraction finally coming to a head. you put your beer down on the desk, meeting his gaze with a daring look, ready to cross the line you've been flirting with for so long.

"And what if I have?" — he whispers back, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. —"What are you going to do about it?"

his challenge hangs in the air between us, a gauntlet thrown down, waiting for you to pick it up. and that's exactly what you do.

you turn around to face him, raising your chin to line your mouth with his, as his arms hook around my waist

“I might just finally kiss you… would that be bad?”

his eyes darken with desire, his hands pulling you closer.

"That might be the best idea you've ever had,"

and just like that, we give up, succumbingto the tension building for months,

he leans in, or you lean in… its indistinguishable who kissed who first, but you capture each other lips in a heated intense kiss, your tongues already seeking each other’s and you taste the faint malt of the beers he had earlier, sighing with the deliciousness of it all

he gives one step further, boxing you on the desk behind, making you lean back, his hand traveling down my hips

you retaliate, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting softly, making him groan

he pushes his tongue inside your mouth again, and you gladly take it, sucking on it, kissing him back with the same passion

it feels almost relieving having him like this after so much tension building. it feels right.

he parts the kiss, but kept his mouth on your jaw, leaving a trace of wet kisses down, reaching your neck

you lean your head back, giving him free reign on your neck, which he gladly take it, switching from kisses to bites, making you moan softly

your moan unlock something primal in his brain, and one of his hand on your hips travel down your thigh, reaching the back of your knee, pushing up his waist, and the other slides to cup your ass

all that while assaulting your neck with languig nibbles, and you can't help but let out a chuckled moan

“Fuckk… eagerrr, are we?”

you say, low and purring, and the way you draw the words from your mouth goes straight to his pants, making his cock twitch, unconsciously grinding his hips on you, his hand giving a light squeeze in your ass

he grins, groaning a little in your neck, the tone vibrating against your chest

it takes you the damn last bit of strenght to knock some sense into him

“Mmhmm… Kuroo… you know… there's cameras in the office… ”

you say slightly breathless, threading your fingers in his hair, gripping, trying to pull him away from your neck

“Call me Tetsurou”

he say lowly and i can't help but chuckle

“Tetsurou…” — i say, rolling his name from my tongue, liking the sound— “there's cameras—”

“They're not gonna check the cameras unless something gets stolen…”

“We're not gonna fuck in the office, Tetsuro”

he parts from your neck, looking straight at me with a glint in his eyes, his famous lazy smirk

“Oh? So we are gonna fuck?”

you narrow your eyes, he got you now.

you snort, grabbing his tie and pulling him for another kiss, mumbling a quick

“Shut up”

he kiss you chuckling in your mouth, his hand on your thigh progressing further, sliding your skirt up, feeling the soft skin he drooled so many times before—

“Not here, Tetsuro—”

he grumbles, releasing your thigh and raising his hands in mocking surrender

“Okay, okay. I get it.” — then he takes your hand, pulling you closer to him — “but you're coming to my place now, and I'm not taking no for an answer”

as you two leave the workplace giggling and holding hands, your coworkers on the bar across the street watch the scene, all ready to let the gossip spread, but also knowing it was bound to happen eventually

[raikkxz]

ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog 2 ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙part two who cheered !?﹚

˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱

JENSON COULDN'T HELP BUT look at the red bull racer's sister eating her lunch with some of her co-workers. she fit right in and right away, even only after a week. she was smiling. oh, her smile. it was different than how she smiled with her brother. how jenson would do anything to make her smile that genuine smile she had with her brother.

"staring at my sister, huh?"

jenson whipped his head around to see sebastian vettel. he opens his mouth then closes it as he sees the fellow driver's raised eyebrows.

sebastian's cold face cracks into a grin. he throws his head back and laughs. "you should have seen the look on your face!"

jenson grumbles under his breath.

"alright, all jokes aside, please don't play with my sisters heart." sebastian puts a hand on jenson's shoulder.

"why would i ever-" jenson starts as he looks at him, but seb raises his eyebrows.

jenson purses his lips. "i.. alright, maybe you're right and i'm sorry."

seb sighs softly. "i'm just looking out for my sister, alright? i love her very much, with all my heart. i don't want to see it broken. i don't want to see *her* broken. just please, promise me."

"i promise." jenson nods sternly.

〜

days after days, you and jenson had formed a friendly and healthy relationship, in which you both hoped would never be ruined. every time you laughed or smiled, you didn't know the thoughts lingering behind the eyes that shined when you did so. you've opened up more and more, finally showing the fun side of you.

jenson hoped to keep it that way. he hoped that your friendship would never be ruined. he'd never felt this way before, and he didn't know whether you felt the same way or not. being the infamous playboy he was, of course he didn't want to break your heart like he did to the other girls. he made a promise to your brother, a promise he could and would never break. you were too dear to him, too precious. he didn't want to break you. he vowed to, with all his life and heart, and he would never admit that to anyone or to himself.

so from then on, he kept it a secret. a secret he couldn't bear. and little did he know, that you on the other hand, was starting to catch feelings too. and you would never admit that to yourself either.

you both had fallen too hard to ever want to break your relationship. your personalities might be polar opposites, but the way you both want to keep your loved ones close and protected was a trait you shared.

jenson, the infamous playboy he was known as, obviously had toyed with a 'few' girls hearts. he's not one to think before he acts. he's the outgoing, social golden retriever.

you were oftenly known is the black cat, and the studiouss quiet kid. you were known by everyone, but not exactly popular. you plan out your movements carefully, always one step ahead. perfect match, honestly.

but further more, jenson made you feel special. you wanted to deny that feeling that made you think, 'he probably gives this treatment to every girl.' but oh, how you were wrong.

he would never offer to carry an item that weighed less than a pound for the 'other' girls. ("here, let me help you with that." "jenson, i can carry it, it's fine!! it's literally just a-" "no, please just let me help." and of course you had to give in to those helpless eyes. that effect he had on you made you weak in the knees.) he would never buy the 'other' girls special and thoughtful gifts. ("please, darling, this is my treat." "but jens-" "i said it once and ill say it again. my. treat.") he would never follow those 'other' girls around like he did to you, like a dog on a leash. ("walk him like a dog." seb snorted. "shut up!!" you muttered, feeling your cheeks get slightly red. jenson rolled his eyes, continuing to follow you neverless.)

it was never those 'other' girls, who he never even talked to anymore ever since he had met you. it's always been you. and from then, it would never change.

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i MIGHTTT take some blurb and part requests for this series, so ill lyk if i do!!﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚

˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱

notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!

[staneros]

water.

you need water.

You've been running around teyvat for what seemed like days, weeks, or even months/years, but whatever you do, you had to keep running...

୨୧----⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆----୨୧

୨୧----⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆----୨୧

You had to keep running you had to YOU HAD TO no matter how much your legs hurt, your body aching, the lack of proper hygiene, just lack of ANYTHING you had to keep on running.

If you hadn't opened your device and actually TRY and farm this wouldn't happened but noooo, nooohoHO YOU JUST HAD TO TRY AND ACTUALLY WORK TO ONLY LOSE YOUR 50/50 TO QIQI

If ONLY you hadn't gone out of your way to farm for lyney. If only, IF ONLY!! BUT yet you just HAD to farm from him and now you're in liyue running through the grass of Guili Plans by the mililith, the qixing, the fatui, AND EVEN THE FUCKING ADEPTI + THE ARCHON HIMSELF

'But why?'

'Why would they chase you FOR NO FUCKING REASON being an ordinary person-ish'

Oh I'll tell you why,

ITS BECAUSE YOU LOOKED LIKE FUCKING CREATOR

While you were running trying to process all this bullshit happening, you accidentally ran into a cliff. How convenient...

"Come back here, imposter!" Ganyu yelled as she kept trying to chase you with other adepti following in pursuit of you while there were meteorites being shot towards you.

So far, the only ones who knew your actual identity was only dainsleif, the traveller(s), and Alice or so, you thought.

You reached a dead end, and out of pure instinct (and stupidness), you jumped off the cliff (wow, so smart)

You thought you were gonna die, but suddenly, you felt arms around you and got a weird ass feeling because the atmosphere felt different now...

so imagine your fucking surprise when you ended up at Mt. fucking HULAO carried by THE adeptus xiao

"Are you ok..?" asked xiao, which is now completely out of pocket, so of course, like any person would do in the hand of the fine ass adeptus, you tried to break free from his grasp despite being 10000000 feet in the air

"WHO ARE YOU??" You yelled since you could barely focus on anything, which is not the best idea when being chased by anything.

"not the right time." Xiao strictly said before teleporting the both of you to the Wangshuu Inn

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"Verr, please allow me to make them reside here." Xiao side whilst hiding your face as Verr ,being the kind woman that she is, let him

As you got out of a fresh shower, Xiao had immediately set you down to tend to your wounds

"You aren't gonna hurt me, are you..?" You asked nervously, uneasy that he was gonna surrender you to the authorities to get you killed

"You saved me.. I would never do that. My Everloving Grace..."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Creator's Note: hi yall saurrrrr i haven't posted in a long time now ikkk BUT in my defense my life has been busy since last year (no i did not get hospitalized like the classic author curse) but yk i was graduating my grade, going into a new one, meeting new friends, relapsing last last year and so on and so forth. Anyways I first started working on this since last year and just procrastinated till now.

most likely yall have forgotten me already (I don't blame yall) but since I'm still very small please expect more coming!!

[thelordfool]

HELP ME PLEASE!!!!!

Long story short: I'm unemployed and will not, unlike what I originally thought, qualify for unemployment benefits.

Please read the readmore for additional context on why I'm unemployed. This post is basically a continuation/update/redo of this post. I'm suffering a sickness with no medicine the past week, applied for almost 100 jobs the last two weeks, am disabled/queer/nonbinary/tired of ebegging. I'm also in the negatives in my bank account because my car payment came out, so I need to get that covered.

pp/vm/ca

$250/$1151.51

i need at least $511.51 of this by the first. please spread if you're financially unable to help, every person this reaches helps! here's the breakdown of the costs: $640 - car payment + late fees $380 - rent $131.51 - negative amount in bank currently

Oh hey thanks for stopping by to read this annoying tale of woe and being angry at capitalism. Prepare for wall of text.

I once had two jobs. The first job, at a chain restaurant, was a bit of a clique-y experience where I was working my damndest to be the best bartender they ever had. I still have all the cocktails memorized. However, I continually faced discrimination in the form of severe misgendering, no matter how often I corrected them. I was also set up for failure. Usually, when someone gets hired for a position, there's some amount of training to be done, no matter how experienced they are, right? I was going in nearly entirely inexperienced into the role. I knew how to make cocktails, sure, and was and still am very good with people and selling. But I was trained for two days. Two. Then, on my first night alone (a Friday), I was watched by one of the bigwigs at corporate who saw every little flub and failure. This caused a demotion-ish. I was demoted to barback but was allowed the same privileges. Until their next visit. That upset the hell out of me - I was well trained by that point and could do it all, with one hand tied behind my back. I digress. It was about 2 months following my demotion when i finally walked out. A new bartender had been hired and she thought I was being a total creep by looking at a ticket that had just come in. She stormed off to report me to the manager who, even after hearing my side where I had asked her if there was anything on the ticket that I could grab, said that I "needed to communicate better," and "you should be learning from her," and "you're a grown man, you should know better." I don't think I need to explain why that was so upsetting.

But I didn't report them, because I just wanted to be done with it. I was also working another bartending job, and everythign was literally perfect other than the hours, honestly. I loved the product the distillery made, I loved the people I worked with, and most of all: I had my own regulars. Last month, they hired a new hospitality director, who announced there would be some restructuring, including getting rid of servers while also making a full dinner menu to serve alongside drinks. I said nothing of it, despite my disagreements, and she assured us all that no one would lose their jobs, but just moved into different roles. We all kinda grumbled about it, and I told her that under no circumstances would I work back of house. Easy peasy. Till it wasn't, and I came home to a voicemail while on break with my partner that I'd been let go due to the restructuring. So much for no one losing their jobs, right? I hadn't been the only victim of this. I have my suspicions as to why the new hospitality director did these things, but I've no energy to throw around conspiracies. All I know is that I was shafted by both of these places and I'm tired of being broke. I'm applying, still going to fight, and... sigh.

tl;dr (why did you click the readmore?): i left a job due to discrimination and lost another due to company restructuring and i'm tired and sad and aaaaa.

[youresodarkbabe]

i'm listening, ready to learn (prof!a. turner x reader)

smut.

warnings: prof!al x reader (yes this is influenced by the recents), age gap, piv, dom-ish al, oral (f!receiving)

word count: 2.6k

took me a while but im back!! hi :)

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"it's definitely not the worst i've seen."

those four words were like a knife to the heart. you put everything you had into those pictures, worked on them for weeks, refining, editing, reshoots, and that still didn't please him. you gave him everything you had to offer, and it still wasn't enough. you could cry on the spot, but his voice pulled you out of your mind's abyss.

"do you want a second chance? i mean, i think you could do much better than this, not to be too harsh."

you had to stop yourself from showing your sheer happiness, you couldn't believe this. you try your hardest to compose yourself before speaking.

"yes, please," you mutter quietly, your voice coming out almost like a squeak. he found it endearing.

he sets your portfolio on his desk and stands up, sliding it over to you with a smile before taking a sip of his coffee.

"tell me if this crosses a line, but would you like to do the shoots at my studio? i have everything you need and more there, i think it'd be very useful."

reality hits you hard. you and your professor at his studio, all alone. if you weren't already trying to conceal your emotions, you were definitely doing it now. ignoring the heat pooling between your legs, you nod, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid of what would come out of your mouth.

"alright," alex grabs a pen from his shirt pocket and jots down his phone number and studio's address on a post it note and sticks it on the top of your portfolio, "how's this friday? is 7 good for you?"

you nod again, eyes fixed on his. "'s perfect, sir."

the sun was shining perfectly, his eyes illuminating like gold. he was so, so beautiful and it took everything you had to break that eye contact and walk out of the class.

come friday, and you're already panicking. you can't find any of the things you need, your reference pictures are shit in hindsight and your roommate had accidentally broken the lens you needed for your camera. regardless, you show up to the studio twenty minutes too early with all you could carry, hoping he wouldn't hate you for your lack of equipment.

he opens the door in a red shirt, a few buttons undone. you couldn't help but picture what he'd look like with the shirt off.

"you're early, doll," he lets you into the studio and shows you where to keep your stuff. "i would've rushed a bit more when cleaning if i knew you'd be so early."

your cheeks heat up as you take in his words.

"i can always come back later?" you say, almost immediately packing your stuff back up, only for alex to stop you with a hand holding your wrist firmly in place.

"it's fine, promise. just a tad unexpected."

he gives you that classic smile and all the worry in your heart seems to melt away. he asks if you'd like some space to set up, and as much as you want to spend time with him, you know it'd be best if you focused, so you say yes. alex darts off to the other side of the room where you see him fiddling with the portfolio from your previous meeting. you tear away your focus from him and set up your camera and all you'd need for the shoot.

he shuts it abruptly, the sound making you jump, his voice instantly soothing your mind.

"did you bring any references?"

shit, you think to yourself. you hated the references you originally had, you left them at home. you had absolutely nothing.

alex tuts, setting the portfolio back down and walking to you, tapping your chin so you'd look up at him, which you do.

"i can see you gettin' in your head. you don't have to worry, we can figure this out, okay?"

"okay."

you and alex stand there for a moment, faces so close, almost close enough for you to close the gap— to kiss him, but you choose against it. alex again seems to be the one to snap out of the haze first, taking a few steps away, clearing his throat. "i, uh, have some pictures you could use as a reference."

right. the photoshoot. that's why you're here.

"you wanna go get 'em for me?" alex asks as he sits down on the chair in front of your camera. you say yes, waiting on him to tell you where to go.

"just that shelf there, the gray one."

you hold the hefty photo album in your hand and hand it to him, standing behind him, leaning in to look at the pictures.

calling them gorgeous would be an understatement. you had been passionate for photography for as long as you could remember and you had never seen pictures that had captured the human essence that beautifully.

alex points at a specific picture and looks up at you, beaming.

the photograph looked simple enough, but there was something to it, something that made it transcend normalcy, the model looked ethereal. it was in black and white, and the standout feature was the bright red lipstick mark on the model's neck, you could immediately picture alex like that, he'd look so perfect.

you try ignoring how wet just the thought of him like that makes you and as if on cue, he says your name, you look away from the picture and back at him.

"i can see the ideas in your eyes, i think we'd best get started, hm?"

you let out a shaky breath and are about to go to your camera, before you pause and turn to him.

"am i.. do i have to take the pictures of you?"

and for the first time, you see a blush grace your professor's perfect face.

"that was the plan, yeah. we can always find a different picture to replicate if you want, it's fine, i don't mind—"

"no! i mean, it's fine. i'm alright with taking the pictures of you, sir."

alex runs a hand through his hair and licks his lips, "alright, okay,". he smiles at you again, making your heart melt and you feel yourself getting soaked. "think i should change this shirt, though. what do you think, sweetheart?"

based on the look on his face, you can tell he didn't mean to let the nickname slip. you'd be lying if you said you didn't love the way how naturally it rolled off his tongue, though. his accent made the word go straight to your core.

"you can change if you'd like."

he mumbles a quiet 'yeah', and goes off into the corner of the room, unbuttoning his shirt as he walks, unaware of how your eyes are fixed onto him. he slips the shirt off and turns to you, holding two shirts in either of his hands.

"black or white?"

you eye him up and down, replying despite being completely distracted.

"white."

he puts the shirt on as he walks back to the seat, you avoid eye contact because who knows what he'd say if you kept staring.

he sits down and you look back down at the reference picture, one question filling your mind.

"sir?"

he hums in response, fixing the camera slightly.

"the lipstick mark. do i have to—"

"if you want. it's not needed, you don't have to."

the second you hear alex say you can kiss him, you grab your red lipstick and apply it, not noticing how enamored alex is. he watches on as you swipe the lipstick along your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to feel them against his, but at the same time, terrified that you don't see him the same way.

you stand in between alex's legs, one of his hands on your waist as you lean in and press your lips to the side of his neck, under his jaw. you hear his breath hitch as you pull away, the grip on your waist getting firmer.

"it doesn't look good, can i redo it?" you ask, just so you could kiss him again. alex nods and hands you his old shirt to wipe the lipstick off with. you kiss his neck again, this time with your lips parted, your teeth lightly grazing his pulse point.

alex's eyes fall shut and his mouth hangs open, a quiet groan gracing your ears. with his eyes still shut, he moves his other hand to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "that one good enough for you?", he asks, his hands moving to your back, wrapping around you.

"no, i think i need to kiss you again." you mutter, dipping your head even closer to his. alex doesn't hold back, this time. he leans in and kisses you, standing up and pulling away to kiss your cheek, laughing at the slight red tint he leaves.

"'m i right in assumin' my lips are red too, now?"

you nod as you tangle your hands in his hair, kissing him again, deeply, tongue and teeth clashing with no regard for anything but each other.

alex's hands slip down to your thighs, tapping on them and instinctively you jump into his grasp, letting him carry you with his hands planted firmly under your ass. he pulls away again, dipping his head to your neck, sucking, biting, licking— anything that makes you feel good. you feel how hard he is through your jeans, and you grind against him, making him moan along your collarbone.

"d'you wanna go to my room, baby?", he asks in between kisses. your mind is too overwhelmed with him to respond, so you just tug on his hair, hoping he'd take the message, which he does.

you can barely focus on where he's taking you, working on unbuttoning his shirt, not realising what alex takes with him into his room.

he lays you down on his bed, it dipping when he settles on his knees by your side, letting you unbutton his shirt. he shrugs it off, smiling at how you look at him, completely obsessed with you. he slides his hands under your shirt, waiting for you to let him know it was okay to take it off, which you do with a moan. you're grinding against his thigh now, letting him take your shirt off. while he's there, he also takes your bra off, swearing under his breath at the sight of your tits. he cups them, twisting your nipples between his fingers, watching as they harden, taking one into his mouth.

he sucks on it before pulling off with a pop, kissing all over your chest until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. he undoes the button and pulls them off slowly, along with your soaking wet panties, both joining the growing pile of clothes on his floor.

alex runs a finger through your folds and pops it into his mouth, humming as he tastes you.

your hips roll into his as you whine, "sir, i need you, please," you begged, and alex simply couldn't say no to you.

alex strips down fully in front of you, and just the sight of his cock makes you squirm. he was bigger than you'd imagined him being. trying to convince yourself that you could take him, you watch as he slides back in between your legs and places his arms on either side of your head. you can't help yourself from reaching out for his cock, stroking it and playing with the tip. his arms almost give in as he groans straight into your ear.

he moves one of his hands to pry yours away from his cock, "if you pull somethin' like that again, i'll make sure to leave you here, just like this. got it?"

the harshness in his voice makes you clench around nothing, you nod rapidly, biting your lip to keep quiet.

"good girl," alex mutters as he aligns himself with your aching hole, pushing in as slowly as possible, both of you moaning as he bottoms out. his hand goes to your clit, rubbing it in figure eights as slowly as possible as he pulls out almost completely, only to slam back in.

your hands go to his back, nails digging into his skin as he thrusts. he had a plan— he was going to take it slow, be as gentle as possible— but it all went to shit the second he saw the way your tits moved with every thrust.

he speeds up, going faster with every thrust, eyes flitting between your face and your tits. his fingers work your clit like magic and your back arches into him, tits pressing against his chest as he hits the perfect spot. you moan his name loudly, biting into his shoulder to muffle your noise. he strokes your hair softly, slowing down just a bit to kiss your cheek.

"feel good, princess?" he asks, his voice sweeter than sugar.

"so, so, so good, fuck—" you feel yourself getting closer and closer and alex can feel it too. you clench around him before you see white, the pleasure of it all taking over as you cum hard. alex fucks you through it, getting closer and closer to his peak.

just as he's about to cum, he pulls out, slightly too late. his cum spurts all over your thighs, stomach and cunt, but you're too fucked out to care.

"that was so good, love, you did so, so well for me."

he kisses your collarbone again, moving lower and lower, eventually settling with his face in between your thighs. he pushes the cum off of your stomach and thighs and into your cunt with his fingers, twisting them inside you. surprised, you tug on his hair, pulling him to look at you.

"i got you, good girl, don't worry, okay?"

you nod as alex pulls his fingers out and slides them into your mouth, making you suck them clean— which you do.

he kisses your inner thigh before finally licking a stripe up your worn pussy, making direct eye contact as he does so. his lips attach to your clit, teeth grazing against it as he flicks it with his tongue, eventually moving his thumb to do that job for him. he slides his tongue into you, tasting you as best as he can, moaning into your cunt. the vibrations drive you crazy, hips bucking into his mouth as he licks into you relentlessly.

his nose nudges your clit as you feel your peak getting closer once more, legs wrapping around his head as you cum again, letting him clean you up with his gentle kitten licks. alex looks up at you through his messy hair, laughing as you pry him away from your overstimulated cunt. he eventually gives in, moving away and kissing his way back up to your face.

the two of you sit there in silence for a while, the only sounds you hear is alex's quiet breathing as you run your hands through his hair.

"'m sorry," he mumbles against your lips. "you're my student, this isn't right, i shouldn't have—"

you press your lips against his once more, softer this time, less starved, less desperate. you kiss him as if you can see more of these kisses coming your way in the future.

"i can see you getting in your head, alex." he chuckles at the callback to what he had told you earlier, hiding his head in the crook of your neck. "i want this to work. i think if we tried, and if we're careful, it will."

alex takes a deep breath in, sitting up next to you, gently stroking your stomach as he presses another kiss to your neck.

"it better work, doll."

you feel yourself starting to drift asleep, only waking up to the feeling of alex's body leaving yours.

"what are you doing?" you ask quietly, voice too hoarse speak normally.

alex grabs what he took with him earlier, that object you couldn't quite make out, and waves it in front of your eyes. that fucking camera.

"just stay still, love," he says as he snaps a few pictures of you, smiling at the stills.

"so.. are those getting me my A?"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

anyways.. sextape fic soon!!

[megalony]

Family

This is my first Eddie Diaz imagine from 9-1-1, I hope you will all like it. Any feedback or requests are always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n) isn't well, all she wants is her partner Eddie by her side.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) leaned her head against the window and tried to take deep breaths to see if it would help relieve the slight nausea she was starting to feel, but it didn't. Each bump the truck rolled over had her stomach churning and every sharp corner spun her head.

When the truck made a harsh break, (Y/n) kicked her foot out and pressed the heel of her boot into the chair opposite to steady herself but she could feel her breaths jittering past her trembling lips.

"You good?" Buck raised a brow and smiled as (Y/n) gave a thumbs up but he could see she wasn't doing great at the moment.

"I'm just great,"

(Y/n) ignored the small chatter through the headphones but when she opened her eyes again and dared to look across from her, she felt shivers spiking down her nerves. Eddie was watching her intently, and he didn't look pleased. Usually when her partner looked at her, he cocked a brow or smirked or tilted his chin down and smiled to himself. She loved it when she caught him staring because Eddie would look up at her through his lashes in such a sweet, innocent way that made her heart flip.

He wasn't looking at her with those innocent eyes now, he was looking at her through stern pupils and furrowed brows and his jaw was clenched. He had both his hands clenched together on his lap and his head was turned down just a little but his eyes were trained on (Y/n).

And when he shook his head and mumbled a quiet 'no you're not' (Y/n) pressed her lips together to prevent a frown.

He told her to have a few more days off, he said she wasn't well and not up to being back at the job just yet. Part of him prayed if she did come back then Bobby would put her on light duties or keep her at the station and away from any calls but they were short staffed and she was needed.

For a week now (Y/n) had been sick with a bug and although she looked better than before, she wasn't one hundred percent.

(Y/n) was glad to throw off the headphones when the truck came to an unsteady stop and they could all get out at the scene. There was already another unit here but they needed back up to help evacuate the building and tend to anyone with injuries.

She grabbed her helmet and followed out the truck, the last in the line to climb down but as soon as the temperature change and the gravity shift hit her, (Y/n) felt uneasy. When her feet were planted on the floor, her hand automatically reached out and her fingers curled around Eddie's arm over his florescent jacket just as he was putting his helmet on.

"What's wrong?" He whispered softly and his head turned to look down at her. He could feel her tight grip on his upper arm and he could sense how close she was standing to him like she was trying to merge herself into his back.

"Just a wobble,"

"Promise?"

"I promise," (Y/n) nodded and batted her eyes up at him but she couldn't bring herself to smile, not yet. She could feel the adrenaline pounding through her blood from arriving on scene but it wasn't enough to rid her chest of the tightening feeling or relieve her tense stomach.

She forced herself to let go of his arm even though she didn't want to, and secured her helmet and gloves. She could feel her stomach knotting but one of the many knots started to ease when Eddie stayed stood beside her with his arm and shoulder in front of her like a shield. He didn't move an inch away from her as they stood waiting for orders and even though he had his hands clasped in front of him and his body facing forwards, (Y/n) could feel his gaze constantly drifting over to her.

"Okay, Buck and Eddie, I want you round the back with the 211 to evacuate. Chimney you with me through the front to make sure everyone gets out. And (Y/n)," Bobby had either heard the brief conversation in the truck or he guessed just by looking at her that she wasn't one hundred percent yet. "Go with Hen, help check everyone over and assist medics."

(Y/n) didn't question it, she knew not to and deep down she was relieved to have an easier task than running in blind to get everyone out. She wouldn't be quick enough today and she didn't hold enough strength to pull anyone out and run back in for a second go. Helping the wounded was a much easier job for (Y/n), it was automatic to tend to people and help with their injuries whereas Buck and Eddie were far better suited to run into the burning buildings and find ways to get out.

Finishing a callout had never felt so good.

When the last deeply wounded person was escorted onto an ambulance and the medics were assuring everyone else that they would be fine, (Y/n) felt like a weight had lifted from her shoulders but another one simultaneously settled in her stomach.

Her chest was heaving even though she hadn't been running around or rushing as much as the boys had. She had gone down the rows of injured people, assessing, patching up, calling for help and moving on. But it wasn't fast-paced and it shouldn't have made her as breathless as it did.

With all the equipment packed up in the medic bag, (Y/n) hoisted it up on her shoulder and made a slow walk away from the make shift tents, over towards the fire trucks that felt like they were a mile away.

She barely got towards the truck before it felt like her lungs were filling up with stones and all the air was starting to drain out of them like they had a leak. And bending over with her hands on her knees only awakened the sickness she had been feeling earlier and the pressure on her lungs started to swim down to her stomach.

Straightening up, (Y/n) made a brisk shuffle over to the truck and dumped the bag in the small compartment while her chest heaved. She threw the helmet off and chucked it inside the truck before letting her head fall forward against the side of the truck, willing the urge to be sick to subside and leave her be.

When everyone else started to filter back towards her, (Y/n) used what little strength she had left to pull herself up into the truck and take her seat at the far side next to the window.

Her hands clasped together between her parted knees and she stooped over, lowering her head down as her chest and sternum started to burn.

"Everything alright?" Eddie grabbed the door and leaned his head up to look over at (Y/n) but when she looked up and managed a smile, he felt a little calmer. He hopped up into the truck and took the liberty of taking the seat next to her, bumping their shoulders while he grabbed two sets of headphones and handed one over to her.

"My chest was a bit tight but I'm okay."

That didn't do too much to calm Eddie's raging nerves when he knew for a fact that she never usually struggled with any problems like this. He was starting to think she had something more like the flu or even pneumonia rather than a simple cold.

But (Y/n) lived with him and Christopher and neither of them had gotten the cold she supposedly had, they both felt perfectly fine and they were around (Y/n) everyday.

(Y/n) smiled when Eddie looped his arm around her shoulders and gently reeled her into his side so she could rest her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and kept his lips there for a while, breathing into her hair as the rest of the team slowly flooded into the truck. They were all ready to head back to the station and get something to eat and have a rest. And possibly a shower.

When they got back to the station, everyone drifted off in their own direction. Hen wanted to refill the medic bags in case they had to rush out on another call, Chimney stayed with the truck to start cleaning it and Bobby and Buck filtered upstairs. (Y/n) followed Eddie towards the lockers and took off her jacket while he rummaged around in his locker for a towel, he needed a quick shower.

Eddie paused with his arm halfway in his locker when he felt a pair of arms suddenly curve around his waist and a familiar face press into his back between his shoulder blades. A smile wormed its way onto his face and he stayed motionless for a minute, maybe two, relishing in the hug and comfort before he turned around in her arms.

"I'm gonna grab a shower, promise you'll tell me if you feel worse." Eddie loosely curved his arms around (Y/n)'s neck and brought his lips up against her temple.

He needed to feel assured that if she felt like she was going to be sick or thought she was getting worse, she would tell him. They both knew he was going to worry for the rest of the shift anyway but if Eddie thought (Y/n) was starting to get worse he would tell Bobby and try to get her to go back home and rest.

"I promise,"

They parted ways and (Y/n) trudged slowly up the stairs towards the kitchen and eased down into one of the navy blue armchairs at the back of the loft space. She needed a sit down for a little while, just to steady her system and feel better, then she could offer Bobby a hand with the cooking he almost always did.

(Y/n) wasn't sure how long she stayed there for. She knew Buck had walked past her a few times because each time he did, he ruffled her hair or patted her head in a teasing manner and laughed to himself. He was like a big brother, he just loved to wind her up or catch her by surprise, it was his favourite pass time.

For a while, (Y/n) thought she was about to nod off and fall asleep but she managed to stay focused on the radio playing softly in the background and the sound of Bobby comically singing along.

But when an overwhelming wave of sickness washed over her like a tidal wave, (Y/n) smothered a groan with the back of her hand and shifted around in the chair. She laid her head down on the armrest, curled her knees up to her stomach and squashed her frame into the seat to try and see if it would take away the sickness and make breathing a little easier. If anything, it made the tension worse. Her chest and upper torso muscles were tightening so badly it was making her mind go numb.

She bound her arms to her chest and pressed a hand down on her stomach to see if a different, more direct form of pressure would help. Her stomach felt uneasy like she was going to throw up but the sickness never came.

Her teeth clamped down on her lip and she took a deep breath through her nose, held it for a few seconds and released it through her lips, repeating the cycle a few times to try and calm down and breathe through the pain.

Everything seemed to slow down yet speed up at the same time, her sense of time was distorted and her vision blurred before her eyelids pulled down like shutters trying to prevent her from feeling worse or experiencing her world spinning on its axis.

All the chatter and music and noise filling the loft started to filter out into static and when her stomach churned, (Y/n) slowly started to get up.

She was going to be sick.

Every inch of her skin was sweltering and droplets of sweat glistened on her in the harsh lighting and she was flushed everywhere even though the loft was fairly cold with the air con and she hadn't done anything tiring in over an hour. The burning in her stomach turned into an intensifying ache in her abdomen and each and every muscle was contorting and twisting inside her in a way which felt impossible.

The agonising twist of her muscles stopped her from standing up straight but she tried her best to look as okay and normal as possible.

One arm bound around her stomach and her other hand gripped the metal banister as she almost slipped down the stairs and hobbled through the back towards the showers where the toilets were.

As soon as she was in, (Y/n) let herself hunch over and drop to her knees in one of the toilet cubicles, getting there just in time to throw up.

She kept one arm around her stomach and used the other to rest over the toilet so her burning forehead could flop on her arm. the static in her ears got worse until it was deafening white noise and she began to shake despite the cold air in the bathroom.

"(Y/n)… just checking if you're okay? You didn't look too good back there," Hen cautiously opened the bathroom door and peered around, unsure how far to walk in in case (Y/n) didn't want help and was actually okay. She had seen (Y/n) hobble down the stairs and stumble towards the toilets and she looked like she was in pain, making Hen worry.

(Y/n) couldn't help the small cry that escaped her lips when Hen pushed open the cubicle door and froze, staring down at her. This was not how she wanted her coworkers to see her, curled over, throwing up feeling feeble and useless and like someone they would see at one of their scenes rather than a firefighter in the station.

"Okay, can I take a look at you?" Hen bent down in the doorway but (Y/n) coiled away, inching further towards the toilet. She didn't want anyone seeing her like this or reaching out to touch her.

She wanted Eddie.

"G-get Eddie, please…" Her lips curved down at the sides and her lower lip started to wobble before a pathetic howl left her lips and she gasped to take in a proper breath.

"Okay, okay I'll fetch him now."

As soon as Hen backed out and bolted from the bathroom, (Y/n) feebly pushed away from the toilet but she didn't know what she was doing or where she was trying to go. Her arms bound around her lower waist and she doubled over, tucking her head into her knees to smother her cries and soak up her tears and runny nose.

Her stomach was on fire, it felt like her intestines were being twisted and pulled down and her chest was burning like she was on fire on the inside. All she wanted to do was curl up as small as possible and pass out to make everything stop. She wanted to wake up at home in bed with Eddie and have this be a bad dream or a distant memory from weeks ago that she didn't have to remember.

"I want Eddie." It came out as a broken wail and she wasn't speaking to anyone in particular but when she heard his rushed footsteps, she knew he heard her but she couldn't find the will power to be embarrassed.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n), baby it's me. Oh, baby," Bursting into the bathroom, Eddie slumped down on his knees in the doorway but his heart burst when his eyes set on his girlfriend. She was curled in on herself like she was trying to hide or become as small as possible but he could see her shaking and he could hear her smothered cries.

He wasn't sure what to do or where exactly to touch her but he knew he couldn't help her when she was curled over like this.

Doubling down, he leaned his chest on his knees so he was more level with her and placed his hands carefully on her upper arms to let her know it was him.

"Come here, sit up for me sweetheart." He slowly leaned up and pulled (Y/n) up with him until she was knelt up on the floor the same as him so he could look her over. But it still wasn't going to be easy when she was in the cramped cubicle and he was wedged into the doorway that wasn't much bigger than his frame. "I'm gonna move you just a little, okay? I've got you, take deep breaths for me baby."

With his arms wound around her waist as carefully as he could and (Y/n)'s head burrowed into his neck and her hands on his shoulders, Eddie slowly moved onto his feet and hunched over. He held her tight and slowly shuffled backwards until he was out of the cubicle and (Y/n) was coiled into his chest.

(Y/n) dug her nails into his shoulders when he sat her down on the cold tiled floor so her knees were pulled up but her feet were now on the floor and he knelt back down beside her.

"Talk to me, what's happening?"

"Hurts… God, it hurts Eddie, a-and I've been sick," (Y/n) coiled one arm back around her stomach to show him where the pain was but her other hand stayed puncturing into his bicep like tallons. And she leaned forward to press her temple into his shoulder, finally feeling a tiny bit of relief when he kissed her temple and rubbed his hand up and down her leg.

When he pulled back, he moved his hand and pressed the back of his hand against her temple, sighing to himself when he felt that she was starting to get a fever.

"Can I?" Eddie moved his hands towards (Y/n)'s stomach and when she nodded, he carefully moved her arm away and peeled up her shirt that had been tucked into her trousers.

He pressed his fingertips against her right side around the bottom of her ribcage, then towards the left before moving down and applying minimal pressure around her abdomen. He didn't like the reaction he got; flinches, whimpers and bubbling cries when he moved lower down. A sigh fell past his lips again and he held his fingers over her wrist to check her pulse, it was fast but not dangerously high.

"It might be some kind of internal blockage or a hernia," Eddie turned to look behind him at Hen but the way he rolled his lips and tensed his shoulders gave away the panic he was feeling.

There were a few possibilities of what this could mean, none of them good and Eddie couldn't do anything or make a judgement call and guess. He needed to take her to the hospital and they both knew it.

"Take her, I'll go clear it with cap." Hen was out the door the moment she finished speaking. They all knew Bobby would fully agree with them, (Y/n) needed medical attention that Hen or Chimney couldn't give and Eddie had to go with her. He couldn't stay on shift and worry, waiting anxiously for a phone call that he could miss if they had another call soon.

"We're off to the hospital baby, ready?"

(Y/n) nodded and when Eddie shuffled closer she took the hint and wound her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the crook of his neck, bracing herself when an arm looped around her lower back and beneath her knees. At least when he lifted her up she stayed much in the same position, knees near her stomach and her body curled over slightly which felt best to relieve the pain.

She nuzzled her face into his chest just beneath his shoulder when he walked out the bathroom, trying to hide herself away from prying eyes. She didn't want anyone looking at her and seeing her like this and she knew Eddie felt the same when his chest tensed beneath her and his jaw tightened and rested on top of her head.

***

(Y/n) felt the need to curl her knees up to her stomach again but she knew she couldn't sit like that, not when the doctor was finally about to assess her.

She didn't know who to look at, the doctor with a soft yet somewhat uncomforting smile, the nurse stood on her left or Eddie on her right. She had been staring up at Eddie for the last ten minutes and she knew he could feel her eyes on him. The concentration in his eyes was sweet and if (Y/n) could of smiled up at him she would. She loved the intensity burning in his eyes and the way he kept flexing his biceps, moving from having his arms crossed over his chest to hold (Y/n)'s hand and run his fingers through her hair. He didn't know what to do with himself.

Eddie could of cried with relief when they got transferred through from the waiting room into here and (Y/n)'s crippling cramps seemed to dull down somewhat. He noticed the way she uncurled herself just a little and stopped clenching her jaw and writhing in agony and it made him feel faint and relaxed and relieved all at once.

"Okay, let's take a look." The doctor smiled again as she moved over the ultrasound machine that had been brought in a while ago.

They had gone through all the preliminary questions when they arrived in A&E, then again when they got moved into this room, although Eddie had done most of the talking. (Y/n) only spoke to confirm he was right and ask why she couldn't have morphine yet. If Chimney was here he would have given her something already for the pain.

It didn't hurt as much as it did earlier when pressure was applied to her stomach and (Y/n) took that as a good sign. The ultrasound checked her stomach first to make sure there was no blockage there before going over to her liver just to be safe.

"Stomach and liver are clear, let's go further down."

(Y/n) tilted her head back and looked up at Eddie instead, although he was focused on the ultrasound. She could never work out those black and white images, her eyes weren't trained to spot differences or abnormalities so she never bothered looking.

"Miss (Y/l/n), I'm going to presume you didn't know this, but it seems you're pregnant."

Her eyes wouldn't look away from Eddie, not for a second. Even as her lips twitched from a slacked expression to a tightened grimace from the pain, she continued to look up at Eddie. His eyes narrowed at the corners and his blushing red lips parted but he couldn't find anything to say.

All Eddie could do was tighten his hand in (Y/n)'s and run his fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands until he was about to have a tuft of hair come out between his fingers.

"What?" Eddie couldn't breathe, he could barely speak and he took one small glance down at (Y/n) biting her lip before he looked over at the monitor across from him. How was this possible? How far along were they? Did that mean the pains were something to do with the baby? So many questions rattled around in his mind but he was getting no answers.

"But I… my period, a-and I…" (Y/n) stopped herself before her mind overloaded and started to short circuit.

Sure, her periods were miss-matched and irregular but she'd been having them and she didn't feel any different in herself. She didn't even look pregnant, how far along was she, she couldn't be more than a few weeks, three months at most.

"I'd guess you're around thirty weeks, but with you not knowing or sensing anything and not having the usual symptoms, this seems to be a cryptic pregnancy. Not very common but it does sometimes happen."

"Oh my God," Reaching behind him, Eddie grabbed the flimsy plastic chair and scraped it along until he could sit down, as close to the bed as he could manage until his knees bumped into the bedframe. "Is the baby okay? What's causing the pains?"

"Pre-term labour pains, it could be brought on my stress and induced by you not knowing anything about this. But we can easily give you some medication to ease the contractions and prevent labour. I'll go and get that sorted and give you a moment to talk."

(Y/n) tried to smooth her hand over her stomach but it made her shiver and made a lump form in her throat.

How could she not know? She didn't feel any movement, she had random, short periods that clearly weren't really periods and she had no swelling. A little weight gain maybe, but nothing to suggest a baby. She had been doing extra shifts and helping lift people out of collapsing buildings, hoisting people up onto back boards and climbing the ladder. She had done everything she shouldn't do while pregnant and she didn't even know.

The job could have been the stress that pushed her confused body into thinking now was the best time to go into labour. (Y/n) had thought about kids with Eddie a lot, but this was never the way she wanted to find out or how she would ever want to tell him when the time was right.

Was now the right time for a baby? Whatever the answer, they didn't have the time or the means to change things now.

"We don't have long to do this… we'll be lucky if we get a few weeks to get everything and sort the house out. We have to tell Cap, God and Christopher, he'll be so excited."

Surprise flooded (Y/n)'s face and she sat up a bit straighter when she processed Eddie's sudden ramblings.

He was happy, he was already planning this out in his mind, she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. He knew what early contractions like this meant, they wouldn't reach full term now. It didn't give them long to tell the team and find a replacement for (Y/n) at work for her to be on maternity leave. They would need to buy everything now and set up the spare room, and tell Christopher that in only a few weeks, someone else would be moving in with them.

When a tired but nevertheless pleasing smile took over Eddie's face along with a few tears, (Y/n) couldn't help but start to cry. This was fast, but she'd always wanted a baby and if Eddie was really okay and thinking this through happily, she didn't have too much to worry about other than work and a short time for planning.

"We're having a baby," (Y/n) whispered quietly, reaching her arms out when Eddie stood up and leaned over her. His arms tangled around her waist and he lifted her up slightly to hold her as close as possible, grinning from ear to ear when he felt (Y/n) kissing his neck.

This was his family.

[dreamcubed]

i don't wanna live forever | mattheo riddle x reader

song; i don't wanna live forever [taylor swift, zayn] pairing; mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; ex2l, reconciliation, ex-lovers, angst, smut, hurt comfort(ish) word count; 2,8k timeline; half-blood prince  warnings; swearing, toxic relationship, jealousy, controlling behaviour, mattheo is not a good person, neither is y/n, borderline cheating (not on y/n or mattheo), smoking, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, arguments, drunk sex, piv, fingering, degradation, ass-slapping summary; ever since you began dating, you and mattheo had been a fiery and toxic mess of breaking up and getting back together - only, when you finally try and date someone else, you realise that you miss and crave the unhealthy pattern that came with mattheo riddle

MINORS DNI! 18+ content.

i don't typically write smut but this oneshot felt incomplete without it. so, enjoy... 2 year anniversary & 1k celebration gift haha

masterlist

"wondering if i dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life."

——————————————

"I mean, why did you even date him in the first place?" Cho asked you, chewing on a chip, "He's literally You-Know-Who's son."

You sighed, used to this conversation from every person you knew, "You can't judge someone by their parents."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Cho, his dad went MIA for thirteen years when he was one and his mum was in prison until last year. He hardly knows them."

"But," she said, "He was raised by the Malfoys and he was sorted into Slytherin."

You rolled your eyes.

She shrugged, "I'm just saying, the red flags were there."

You didn't reply, moving your gaze over to the group of Slytherin boys sat laughing with each other while they ate. Your ex-boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle, was sat among them.

It felt too definitive saying ex, however, since you two broke up and made up constantly, and had for the last year and a half, much to your friends' horror. You argued with him, you cried over him, you talked shit about him - but you loved him. And the love you had was a burning flame of passion, but it wasn't healthy. You had broken up a week ago, which was actually the longest you had gone without talking.

Normally, you would have caved by now, but you felt different this time. You felt immensely stubborn.

"It's time you stayed apart for good," Cho said, just as Mattheo's eyes locked on to yours, "He's bad for you."

You knew she was right, which was why you accepted when a nice Hufflepuff boy asked you to Hosmeade that weekend.

***

The bouquet of pink and red flowers being presented to you really should have given you butterflies, maybe even made you squeal, but they horrified you. Nonetheless, you smiled and said, "Awh, thank you. You shouldn't have," before taking Leon's extended arm and letting him lead you to the Three Broomsticks. He pulled the chair out for you, and you forced another smile on to your face.

"I've been wanting to ask you out for ages," he said excitedly, "But you were still on and off with Riddle."

You hummed.

"I'm glad you're done with him. He didn't treat you right."

It was mutual. You were just as toxic as Mattheo.

"But I will."

"Well, thank you, Leon," you said gently, "We'll see, won't we?"

He beamed at you, "You're so beautiful."

Surely such a comment should make you blush, right?

***

"How was the date?" Cho wiggled her eyebrows back in the Ravenclaw dormitories.

"It was... good," you said, placing the flowers on your desk haphazardly.

"Just good?"

"He's really nice, I- I just..."

Cho frowned, "He's boring?"

You shook your head, "No, he's funny and interesting."

"Then what's the issue?"

You shrugged, "I don't know."

"Give him a chance then, babe."

***

Leon wrote you poems, he took you on cute dates, he fed you, he walked you to classes, and he hung off your every word. But your eyes would always linger over to Mattheo - because despite everything Leon did for you, the only time you felt butterflies anymore was when you made eye contact with your ex-boyfriend. That glittery spark had never once burnt out in those long eighteen months you were on and off. Every argument and break up only seemed to make it burn stronger and brighter.

And the thing was, Leon was too healthy for you: too sane, too trusting, too normal. Mattheo had turned you into a raging jealous monster, as you had him, and it was part of the reason you were on and off. Neither of you had ever actually cheated, but if you got too close to a boy? He would start an argument and scream at you until you yelled back that you were over. Two days later, he would corner you, never truly apologising but kissing and making up, muttering how he loved you before fucking you until the sun came up.

And you had done the same thing to him.

That was the issue with Leon: he was friends with everyone. Some of his closest friends were girls. Were you jealous? No. But you knew if you began to develop feelings for him then you would become more jealous than an innocent boy like him could handle. You would ruin him the way Mattheo ruined you, fucking him up for any future romantic endeavours.

It drove you crazy how respectful he was, how he didn't bat an eye at you saying you were going to study with a male friend. You needed more push and pull than what he was giving you: you craved a fight, because you craved the crazed passion that came with it.

Yet, three weeks passed by and Mattheo had made no effort to do anything more than glare daggers at you and Leon from across the room.

Then the Christmas holidays hit.

***

A rich Hufflepuff in your year - not Leon - was hosting a house party at their gigantic home, and you had scored an invite. In fact, so had everyone in your year, including a few people from the year above and year below. Leon had immediately owled you to say that he would pick you up before heading there, but you knew that as you patted on concealer and highlight, you were thinking about Mattheo's reaction when he saw you. He had hated when you dressed too revealing, saying that he could see guys' eyes on you - and he wasn't wrong, you just didn't care.

You had purposefully dressed yourself in a tiny black miniskirt and matching bralette, which as a combination left very little to the imagination. With the fishnets you adorned as well, it was borderline lingerie.

Maybe Leon would finally argue with you and make you feel something.

"Y/N, you look gorgeous," he beamed, not a trace of anger on his perfect face when you opened the door to him.

"Thank you," you said, fighting the urge to sigh, "You don't look so shabby yourself."

"Shall we?" he held out his hand to you, which you accepted.

***

The party was already in full swing when you arrived, and you made a quick motion to catch up by downing two shots. Leon watched you in amazement.

"You want one?" you asked, going to pour another drink.

He shook his head, "I don't drink."

"No?" you paused in your movements, thinking that maybe this would be the time you finally argued, "I drink a lot."

"Each to their own," he shrugged, "I'll look out for you."

"Thanks, then," you said awkwardly, "I'm gonna go for a smoke, you coming?" Had you partially said that as another attempt at angering him? Yes. But you also were craving nicotine.

He shook his head, "I'm good, we'll catch up in a bit, yeah?"

You nodded absently, pouring a third shot for yourself before creating a mixed drink and heading outside to the smokers' area. And, there he was, Mattheo Riddle stood with a cigarette between his lips and a drink in his hand.

Pulling out a cigarette that you had tucked in your bralette, you boldly walked up to the group of Slytherin boys and asked, "Anyone got a light?"

Nott, who was right next you, passed you his, but you never took your eyes off Mattheo. His eyes glided up and down your exposed body as you lit your cigarette and took a long drag, relishing in the taste. You watched his jaw clench.

"You and Duggard official yet?" Berkshire asked, referring to Leon. At his question, a borderline growl erupted from Mattheo.

You shrugged vaguely, "We'll see."

"Will you?" Mattheo asked coldly.

You exhaled some smoke, "Well, he's handsome, smart, funny and attentive to my every need."

"Oh, is he?" Mattheo stepped closer to you.

Chuckling, you said, "He's a very kind man."

Mattheo scoffed, pushing past you with a mutter of, "That's not what you need."

He was right, of course, but he didn't need to know that.

You turned your focus to your cigarette.

"He's not the same without you," Nott said casually, dropping his finished cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.

"No?" you murmured, a smile tugging on your lips.

"He hardly sleeps, hardly eats, is angry all the time," he continued, "So, please, stop your little charade with Duggard and get back with him already."

"Who says it's a charade?"

You heard Berkshire scoff, "C'mon, L/N, everyone sees you stare at Matt all the time. Everyone except Duggard, that is."

Biting your lip, you ashed your cigarette, "Well, maybe Riddle should man up and apologise."

***

The party raged on, and as the alcohol flowed through your system, so did the music. Leon didn't seem that keen on the party atmosphere, so you resorted to dancing with Cho and other Ravenclaw girls. That was until you felt a guy come up behind you and begin dancing with you.

You turned around to see a Gryffindor boy from the year above, and he wasn't half-bad looking, so in your drunken state you allowed it to happen. Cho gave you a sceptical look, but didn't intervene.

A hand tugged on your wrist, and you looked up to see Leon.

"Can we talk?" he mouthed, and you nodded absently, following him to the quieter room that was the kitchen.

"What?" you said a little harshly.

"I'd appreciate if you wouldn't dance with other guys," he said, his tone completely without malice.

Your instinct in these situations was to get aggravated, so you snapped, "Well, if you actually knew how to party, I wouldn't have to."

Leon stared at you blankly, "I'm sorry."

For fuck's sake, why did he have to sound so genuine?

"I'll try and come out on the dancefloor if that's what you want."

"Fucking hell," you cursed.

"What? What is it?" he sounded worried.

"Why don't you argue with me?" you exasperated, tugging at your scalp.

Leon frowned, "That's no way to resolve things."

"It's not about resolving things," you snapped, "It's about passion, it's about the spark, it's- it's..." you trailed off, "Rowena, I feel crazy."

"I understand your relationship with Riddle wasn't the easiest one, but I want to help you learn what a calm and healthy relationship is," Leon said gently, "Because you deserve better."

"Are you even listening to me?" you pulled your hands down your face, "I don't want peace. I want passion. I want twin flame bruises. I want a push and pull."

"I-"

You cut him off, "Mattheo would have beat the shit out of that guy for dancing with me."

"That guy probably didn't know you were taken-"

"Mattheo made sure that everybody knew I was his," you said firmly, feeling tears prick at your eyes, "I just need to argue, Leon - I crave it."

"Well, I can't give that to you."

"Y/N," a voice spoke in a growl behind you.

You span around, being faced with the one man who could make you feel electric. And that was when your emotions crashed all over you: upset and anger expressed through tears and yelling.

"Why are you taking so fucking long?" you screamed.

But he wasn't looking at you - no, he was glaring at Leon. "I think you've had long enough with my girl, Duggard," he drawled.

"She's not your girl anymore," you heard Leon reply, before he said to you, "What did you mean when you asked him why he's taking so long?"

You saw Mattheo clench his fist, and you grabbed his wrist to halt him, "Fucking talk to me, Riddle."

His eyes snapped to yours, "I will never be Riddle to you, princess."

"Considering we've hardly spoken the last few weeks, I'd say you are."

"Guess I'll have to remind you who you are to me, then," he chuckled darkly, pulling you away from Leon. The Hufflepuff boy went to follow you worriedly, but you glared at him and he stayed put. Part of you felt bad: a tiny, sober part.

You found yourself in an upstairs bathroom, pressed against a cool tile wall.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I can't promise I'll be a good person about it."

"You're never a good person about anything," you muttered, relishing in his hot breath fanning on to your face.

He smirked, "We both know that's the way you like me."

You hummed, "Fuck me, Mattheo."

"I'm not sure you deserve a good fuck after everything you've done."

"I never fucked him."

"No?" he chuckled, "Good."

And then his lips were on yours, tasting, sucking, nibbling every centimetre. His hand quickly trailed to underneath your skirt, rubbing your clit through your scandalously thin panties.

He pulled away from the kiss, "Don't ever wear anything like this again," he kissed you again, "At least not in public."

"Whatever you want."

He hummed his approval, pushing your panties aside to push two fingers inside of you.

"Please, I just want your dick."

"Yeah?" he murmured, "How bad?"

"So bad, please," you begged, your tear and mascara stained cheeks enhancing the puppy dog eyes you gave him. Mattheo had to admit, he loved seeing you so desperate for him.

"You really don't deserve this," he sighed, unzipping his trousers.

You licked your lips as you watched him pull his rock hard dick out.

"I can't wait to feel your mouth on it again," he muttered, "But I'm feeling nice, so I'll just give you what you want."

Mattheo bent you over the sink countertop, lifting up your skirt and slapping your ass in the process. He pulled your panties further aside.

"Don't act like you don't just miss being inside me," you forced out, making him slap your ass harder.

To your surprise, he said, "Of course I fucking did."

And then he pushed inside you, quickly and without warning, causing you to gasp loudly.

"So fucking wet."

You arched your ass up to him, moaning.

"I don't think I'm gonna last long."

You were hardly able to reply, as he had begun to run circles on your clit as well. But, you agreed with him, as the absence of this feeling had made your body hypersensitive to Mattheo's every touch.

"Fuck, you're such a whore," he murmured, picking up the pace relentlessly.

"Your whore," you managed to say, your eyes rolling back into your head as you felt your orgasm build up.

"I bloody well hope so," he chuckled.

And then, as you both came closer to ecstasy, things went silent - the only noise being his groans, your moans, and the sound of skin slapping.

"Matty, I'm gonna co- fuck!" you cursed, feeling your release wash over you in red hot passion, your vision going white as your every limb shook. You didn't normally orgasm so easily.

He continued to fuck your overstimulated pussy, gripping your hips so hard it would probably leave bruises. "Gonna fill you up," he choked out, his breathing growing heavier as you finally felt his dick throb inside you, signifying his release.

Mattheo stilled, staying inside you for a moment as you both processed the situation. Eventually, he pulled out, helping you turn over so you were sat on the counter facing him. You were both panting.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually, and your eyes widened.

He had never outright apologised before.

"I'm sorry too," you mumbled back.

"I love you so much," he pressed his forehead against yours, "I just I-"

"I love you too. So much."

He hummed, "I just- I don't understand my father. I don't want to live forever."

You frowned, "Why not?"

"Because," he took your hands in his, "Without you, I'd just be living in vain."

A smile stretched widely on your face, "Want to leave this stupid party?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

And as you left the party, hand in hand and evidently in a post-sex haze, Mattheo said - loud enough for a few close people to hear - "I'm gonna marry you, you know that?"

And you did.

———————————————

masterlist

written; 25/02/2024 —> 09/03/2024 published; 09/03/2024 edited; —/—/——

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

breaking me (not literally)

(cw: age gap 25/41; nsfw, pure smut, MDNI; biting/marking, dacryphilia(ish), d/s-dynamics, sex toys, butt stuff, restrained and gagged, overstimulation)

continuing the part before: wearing glasses

Hanging off König’s shoulder I have a déjà vu, from the first time he carried me to his bedroom last week. Not much has changed since then, but at the same time…

I get torn from my thoughts when he lifts me up, his big strong hands around my waist, and just sets me down on the bed, my front against the mattress. He pulls down my pants and I wiggle my legs to help him with it, eager to get my clothes off.

His fingers are grabbing my ass cheeks as soon as they're free, squeezing and kneading. He leans down while I shimmy back, propping my butt up, and he nuzzles his face against my clothed pussy. His nose is pressed into the damp fabric, his tongue lapping at the black cotton, drenching it even more. He pulls back a bit and I can feel his teeth sink into the supple flesh of my butt, for just a moment, leaving a little mark.

"I have to say, having your ass in my face like that is almost as good as having you sit on me.", he says. He flips me around, so I'm on my back. "But I also like to see your face because it's so pretty when I eat you out." He grins at me, the sexy smirk almost turning a bit sinister. "Especially if your make-up is running down your cheeks like today."

Right. I look up into the mirror on his ceiling. My fucking make-up. I don't wear much, but I feel naked if I leave my house without eyeliner. Eyeliner that is now adorning my cheeks. I already look kind of fucked out, just from sucking his dick.

He climbs onto the mattress, kneeling beside me, and I sit up. Wanting to kiss him again and finally get naked, but he stops me when he starts with: "Before we do anything, I also wanted to talk about something.”

“Yes?”

“When I brought some of your stuff up, I dropped the box and half of it fell on the floor.”, he explains, huffing. He nods in the direction where the box is now standing, on his dresser.

My brows furrow, wondering why he thought this was something to bring up.

“I swear, I wasn't snooping or anything, but I picked the stuff up and saw what you packed.”, he adds, lifting his hands in defense.

My face lights up when I catch his drift. “Oh, you mean the toys!” I packed a small bag with my most trusted stuff into the box with my clothes when I got everything together this morning. On a whim really, even though just thinking about using this stuff with him makes me all hot and bothered. I must have left the zipper open when I put it in.

"Yes, the toys.", he confirms. "I know they're your stuff, but I was wonderi-"

"I didn't pack them to use alone under the shower.", I interrupt him with a straight face, but a little grin fights its way through.

"So, you wouldn't mind if we used them together?", he wants to know, making sure again.

"Quite the contrary.", I say, smiling at him.

He hums, the deep satisfied sound I heard a lot from him by now, and he bends forward to kiss me. But only quickly.

"Now that we got that out of the way... Do you have a safeword? Or some word that will work as one.", he says. His eyes search mine like it’s already written in them.

"I do.", I answer. "Spring rolls." My favourite food. I half-expect him to make a comment, a joke, anything, but he just nods, all serious.

"And what if you can't talk?", he asks.

"I- That was never really an issue before.", I say, a little bit unsure now.

"Can I show you? Non-verbal ones?", he suggests.

I nod in return.

"Either pinch me or snap your fingers. That one you can even do cuffed." He demonstrates the two simple gestures, softly pinching my thigh and repeating the snaps a few times. Easy enough.

But something else got my attention. "Cuffed?", I echo. My interest is instantly piqued, and he can see that on my face.

"Yeah." He grins at me. "Restrained, tied to the bed, you know."

"I would like that.", I blurt out, a light blush creeping onto my cheeks.

His eyebrows are shooting up, he’s straightening up, rolling his shoulders back, the grin getting brighter. "Good to know.", he comments, taking my hand in his. “If you’re tied up, we can also communicate like this.” He squeezes my fingers with his. “Once means green, go ahead, twice means yellow, slow down, and three times red, stop.” I imitate the presses, feeling his strong thick digits.

He lifts our entwined hands to his mouth. “Understood?”, he asks, holding my gaze, while he softly places kisses on the back of mine.

“Yes, Sir.”, I say, earnest, but with an edge. The ‘Sir’ drawn out, the corner of my mouth turning up into a smirk.

His eyes light up like matches set ablaze as he pulls me into him and I lean forward, getting up on my knees to kiss him. He answers, slow and sweet at first, until it gets more heated and sloppier. He breaks away to pull my shirt over my head, also getting rid of my bra, his thumb and pointer snapping the clasp open, fiddling with the hooks for a moment.

He's slowly lying me down on the bed, his mouth tracing a hot trail down to my breasts to toy with them. Licking, teasing. Biting them softly, his canines leaving little marks. His hand is holding mine again, his fingers intertwined with mine, stretching me across the mattress, splaying me out before him.

I'm so distracted by his touches that I don't even realise what he is doing, until he fixes a leather cuff around my left wrist. And then the other side as well.

A pang of excitement hits me, spreading through my body, soft tingles erupting all over my skin. God damn, he'll tie me up. Like we just said.

He gets up from the mattress, revealing straps that are tied to the bedposts that I didn't see before, clasping the cuffs to them and fastening them.

"Can you still do the snapping?", he asks, when my wrists get pulled up and to the side.

I demonstrate it with a quick snap of my fingers.

"Yes, good. And don't hesitate to you use the safewords, if you feel like you need to, and I will stop in an instant.", he reiterates again.

I nod. "I will." He trusts me to tell him if he takes it too far, and I trust him to respect my limits, otherwise stuff like this won't work.

He gives me another kiss and moves down to my ankles, getting rid of my panties as well, but not tossing them aside, before he gets two more cuffs and spreads my legs to tie them to the lower bed posts.

"I see now why you have a bed like this.", I quip while I can see myself splayed out on the mattress in the mirror above.

"I don't know what you mean.", he says, feigning innocence, as he gets one of the plush pillows to place under my lower back, propping me up a bit.

"Yeah, yeah.", I shoot back. My limbs are spread, my pussy exposed, but he just doesn't dive in like I want him to, desperate to finally feel his mouth on me.

When he's done, he gets up from the bed and gets rid of his clothes, shedding the shirt and his jeans. And I can see his dick, hanging between his legs, long and thick, getting hard again, after he just came in my mouth a few minutes ago, downstairs on the couch. The piercing at his tip glinting as his length bops with his steps, and I wanna taste him again.

He stalks over to the box, the box with my things again, not before shooting me another proving look. Taking something out that I can't see because his big hands close around it. All the while I'm tied up here, waiting, needy and impatient, and he is taking his fucking time.

"You done, big guy?", I ask while he is getting something from his nightstand. A bottle of lube.

"Patience, brat." Oh, the look is giving me. "You were being so good, sucking me off, and now all I hear are complaints and bratty comments?", he grumbles, but I can see the mischievous grin behind it. A little hint that he's not really cross with me, just leaning into our little games.

"Well, you know, I'm more well behaved when I'm satisfied, but somebody broke the bed this morning instead of makin-", I start again.

"That's it, no more talking for you.", he states, grabs my panties and stuffs them into my mouth. Pushing the fabric inside with his fingers until I can't talk anymore.

He pulls back, a smirk fighting through the serious expression. "Better.", he says, looking down at me.

My mouth is stuffed full, but he doesn't fasten it any further, so I could still spit it out easily, if I wasn't okay with it. I can see what he's doing, testing the waters.

He places himself between my legs, strewn over the end of the bed and still reaching me just fine. He presses kisses to my thighs, starting down at the knees. Taking his sweet, sweet time. Kissing up and down the one side, while his hand is slowly stroking up the other one.

When his fingertips finally coast over my pussy, I almost come, that's how wound up I am. I pull on the restraint, my mewls getting damped by the fabric in my mouth.

"So fucking needy for my touch.", he drawls, repeating the motion again before sinking one finger inside me. Oh, he likes to tease me like that, and right now I can't help, but just take it. My hips rut back and forth, with the way my legs are spread and the pillow is placed under my lower back, I can’t move into his hand, searching for more contact.

He’s moving the digit oh so slowly, my wetness spreading on it, as he slowly fucks me with it.

König bites me again. Sinking his teeth into the soft skin of my thigh. Leaving kisses and hickeys on my thighs, replacing the marks he left there before.

I come, unforeseen, when he pushes another finger in, curling them against the sensitive spot inside me. My hips buck up as I pull on my restraints. He doesn't stop, his fingers moving faster now, and my eyes roll back while my panties are drowning out my groans and screams.

I look down again, after the bigger waves have subsided. The corners of his mouth are turned up into a smirky smile, his eyes are on me, watching, how his fingers are still working themselves in and out of me. His gaze pans up, flitting over my whole naked body, thighs, hips and tummy, stopping for a moment at my tits that are moving up and down with my labored breaths, the peaks hard and sensitive. Up to my face that's adorned with streaks of run down make-up, my undies stuffed into my mouth.

"You're so fucking beautiful.", he almost purrs, his voice deep and laced with pure want. The little praise is shaking me, and my eyelids squeeze shut for just a moment. I will them to stay open, looking at him. Seeing what he'll do.

He pulls his fingers out and lifts them to his mouth, licking my juices off them. Just two quick licks, his tongue darting between them. And I whine. I just want his mouth on me. I would plead for it if I could.

But he doesn't even think about it, taking his other hand and spreading some of the wetness lower, until his fingertips are massaging my other hole. Slow deliberate circles, not dipping inside me before he takes some of the lube he got. Then he presses his pointer inside me, the digit sliding in easily with all the slick.

He is slowly coaxing me to take another finger while the thumb of his other hand is rubbing my clit. When he pushes deeper, his fingers stretching me, a zap of pleasure rips through me.

He pulls them out, leaving me empty, when he suddenly has a buttplug in his hand, my buttplug, the one I packed. Showing me the little thing, before I can feel it pushing against the puckered hole. The cool metal, the cold sensation and the feeling of fullness sending a violent shiver through me as it fully slips into me.

His fingers that were still rubbing over my clit drop lower again, roughly pushing into my pussy which swallows them up easily with how wet I am.

"So pretty with all your holes stuffed.", he whispers, his gaze panning up from between my legs and dropping back again. He pushes his hair out of his face, the long strands falling back over his broad shoulders now, before he leans down and finally puts his lips on my pussy.

His mouth sucks on my clit, and it's just too much. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, clouding my view, as his tongue presses on the sensitive nub, his fingers move inside my wetness and his thumb pushes on the flared base of the buttplug, and I come again.

He pulls back, his fingers slipping out my pussy, and I slump down into the mattress. He crawls over me, his face appearing in front of mine, his hair falling down over me, the tips of the long strands brushing over my sides, my tits. Smirking down at me, stroking over my cheek with his thumb, catching a stray tear that’s sitting there, before the hand scoots further up to the restraint. He squeezes mine, and I squeeze back, just once, to signal him that everything is okay. A go-ahead, not wanting him to stop at all and thinking he’ll finally fuck me.

He presses his lips to my cheek, but he just scoots down again, leaving a trail of kisses down my body, the soft touches sending shivers over me, the smallest stimulation making me gasp for air. My mouth is still gagged with my panties, my breaths shallow.

It's not over, something that becomes clear, when I see my vibe in his hand. Oh fuck, he is pulling out all the stops.

"Come on, you can give me another one.", he drawls, and I don't think the sounds coming out of my mouth would have made any sense, even if I wasn't gagged like that.

Still, I don't think about using the snaps a little bit, just losing myself in the pleasure. The sweet, sweet torture of being made to come over and over again. My thighs are shaking, and it gets only worse, when he places the buzzing head against my clit.

He's watching me, taking in every little bit, my writhing body pulling against the restraints around my wrists and ankles, my hips moving of their own volition. My back is arching and my head falls back.

“Schau mich an.”, he says, his voice alone getting my attention, though I don’t understand the words, my chin dropping to my chest. “Yeah, look at me, just like that, Liebes.”

His look is on me, finding my eyes that inevitably turn up again from the intense stimulation, but I try to hold his gaze. Also seeing the vibe in his hand, the device so small in his fingers as he presses it against my pussy, the familiar vibrations stoking my arousal again.

He doesn’t let up until I’m cumming again, the buzz of the vibe intermingling with my muffled moans and the strain of the leather cuffs. When the vibe shuts off, I relax into the sheets, still not taking my eyes off him.

“Good girl.”, he whispers, deep and soft, his usually furrowed brows turned-up, relaxed.

He’s taking everything away, pulling the plug out and putting the vibe to the side. I’m bare, writhing, overstimulated. Wetness is dripping out of me, covering the pillow beneath my hips.

His head dips between my legs, licking it all up, taking his sweet time eating me out. The sensations of his tongue and mouth and lips are so much more intense, the scruff of his beard against the sensitive skin almost makes me lose my mind.

By the time he gets a condom, my mind is hazy and filled with clouds and my pussy is overstimulated to high heavens.

He grins at me while he rolls the rubber down his length. "No pesky brat teasing me while I put on the condom.", he says. "Maybe I should tie you up more often."

My only answer is a whimper. He drops onto the mattress, crawling over me again. Pulling my panties out of my mouth, the fabric soaked with my spit. He lets me breathe for a moment, his thumb softly caressing my cheek as his hair falls into my face before he leans down to kiss me.

"You okay?", he asks softly.

"Mmmh, yes.", I mumble against his lips. "I'll never complain about not coming again, though.", I add, sighing.

He laughs a little. "Good.", he hums.

His dick slides into me, easily with how wet and relaxed I am. I groan, feeling so full, my pussy now clenching around his thickness. It's feeling sensitive, overstimulated and sore, but still so good. Little bits of pain that only make the pleasure so much higher. Intense, even more intense than usual. The stretch has my walls fluttering around him.

He starts to roll his hips into me and slowly gets rid of all the restraints on my wrists until it's just us two fucking again.

His hands are grabbing me, positioning my hips just how he likes it, my lower back still propped up on the cushion. His hair falling forward like a curtain. His dick moving inside me, deeper than his fingers were before, the girth filling me up.

He's going slower than usual, dragging himself out and in, his head turning up and his eyes rolling back when I squeeze down on his dick. My hands hold onto his arms that are propped beside me, my nails digging into his biceps.

And I can't believe I'm gonna cum again. The ones on his fingers and tongue, with the vibe, were different than this one. Starting so much deeper, wrecking through me, when he bottoms me out.

My eyes turn up, my mouth contorted into an O-shape, but the sounds are barely audible mewls. He leans down again, his hand tangling in my hair as he presses soft kisses to side of my face while I convulse around his dick. His moans and grunts spilling from his lips right next to my ear. My arms are reaching around his waist, my fingernails digging into the muscles on his back, adorned by black ink.

Finding my lips and kissing me, while he’s still thrusting into me, fucking me through the orgasm.

“I'm so close.”, he says quietly, his voice hoarse and deep.

“Please, I want you to come all over me.”, I whisper into the kiss. Simply saying it, telling him what I want, like he told me to yesterday.

He groans, pulling out of me in an instant, and I’m already propping myself up on my elbows, when he removes the condom. He sits back on his knees and pumps his hand a few times, then he cums all over me, moaning deeply, as the creamy liquid coats my tummy, boobs, some drops even hitting my face.

Thick ropes of cum are adorning my body as I smile up at him, sitting up onto my knees. I lean forward, licking the last of it from the tip of his dick, which makes him shake a bit because it's sensitive.

He pulls back and bows down, his hand grabbing my neck softly to pull me in before pressing his lips to mine. I hum into the kiss, feeling the little possessive gesture. When he pulls back, all I can do is sigh and look up him.

"Shower and food?", he suggests smiling down at me.

"Yes please." I get up from the mattress, but when the soles of my feet hit the floor and I try to stand on them, my knees buckle a bit. I stumble forward into him and his arm catches me, while I hold onto it.

"Whoops.", I exclaim, steadying myself.

“Everything okay?”, he asks, a hint of worry on his face, his other hand caressing my cheek.

“Yeah, just wobbly legs.”, I tell him, getting on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Somebody made up for breaking the bed and really did a number on me.”, I tell him.

“Yeah, he did?”, he asks, dropping another kiss onto my lips.

“Mhm.”, I mumble.

I wobble into the bathroom, my legs shaking a little bit, while he is putting new sheets onto the mattress. I make my way to the shower and catch a glimpse of myself. Black streaks down my cheeks, my makeup completely gone.

My tits and stomach wet and shiny from his cum against the soft skin. The grin on my face. The stupidly bright grin on my fucked-out face.

König passes me, his butt naked frame between me and the mirror, his broad hairy chest right in front of me. “Come on, sweetcheeks.”, he says, patting my butt. “Gotta get you cleaned up.” And pulling me with him into the shower.

After we've showered, we order something to eat, sitting back on the couch right where we started.

His glasses are placed on his nose again, the nose that has been broken at least twice. Our hair is still wet from the shower, I can feel the damp strands of his long hair against the back of my hand as I’m scratching his back, stroking over his bare shoulders.

He’s just in some shorts and me in a simple t-shirt, some Chelsea Grin merch. Together we're wearing one whole outfit.

I sit on his lap, both of us looking at the screen of his phone, the device so small in his hands, picking out what to eat. He is just adding everything that sounds good. So, basically everything.

This day started with him breaking my bed and now I'm staying at his place and chilling with him on the couch after he fucked my brains out. Once again.

Exclusively dating him now, even though he has to leave at some point to go on his next mission. Something that stirs a little in my stomach. But it is what it is.

I look at him, my eyes taking in the serious expression on his face while he adds another portion of spring rolls to the cart because I like them so much. The corner of his mouth turns up into a little smile while his eyes behind the glasses are still fixed on the phone screen. My fingers push back one strand of his long hair hanging into his face, the tips brushing over the stubble on his jaw, before I press a kiss onto his cheek.

You know what? I still wouldn't have it any other way.

How did the two cuties end up here? Check out the next chapter: lazy evenings or the full story in the Masterlist ~

[frenchkisstheabyss]

⛧𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙸𝙸𝙸⛧

⛧ Pairing: poly!slasher!minsung x chubby!fem!reader

⛧ Genre: slasher au/horror/fluff/angst

⛧ Summary: It's been two weeks since that fateful night your crushes revealed their killer hobby to you. You promise yourself you'll never look back but your ties to each other can't be severed so easily. Especially not when your own gruesome urges begin to creep in and an unexpected visitor gives you the perfect opportunity to set them free. Do you have it in you to resist or are you destined to return to them?

⛧ Word Count: 2.1k-ish

⛧ Warnings: horror elements, masturbation (f w/ vibrator), blood, violence (none between you 3 though. you psychos love each other too much), someone breaks into reader's house w/ short fight scene after, erotic homicidal urges, dead bodies, strong language, you become a killer bby girl, suggestive convos, everyone gets kinda sentimental, & that's all.

⛧ A/N: I'm such a spooky girl at my core (it's where my writing roots are) so it's been fun writing this dark comedy/romance and I love you forever if you're joining this quite odd ride with me.

Also thank youuu @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 and @lxsunshine for asking to be tagged! I've never really had a tag list but if anyone else wants to be, totally let me know! 🖤

💀 <<< Rewind to Tape 1 <<< 💀

Somewhere along the way your wires got crossed. You could blame it on Han and Minho for what they did but that’d be unfair wouldn’t it? What they uncovered in you—the same darkness lurking within themselves—has alway been here and it refuses to be buried again. But you try.

It’s been a long 15 minutes soaking in this bath with one leg draped over the side of the tub and your waterproof vibrator buzzing away beneath the lilac bubbles. Music plays in your headphones, ambient tunes meant to melt the tension from your body. Squeezing your eyes shut you try—you really try—to chase off intrusive visions of two sickeningly handsome psychopaths. You don’t want to remember what you saw that night but the picture’s so clear in your head that it might as well be playing out in front of you all over again.

For the few seconds that you manage to shake the thought, your vibrator feels useless. It hums against your walls with all the enjoyment of a leg that’s fallen asleep. But when the image snaps back into frame—them standing there in nearly nothing, blood dripping down their bodies—it feels heavenly. The pleasure travels through you in pulses, spreading further out the longer you indulge in your memories.

This isn’t right. You have to stop. You know you do. So do it. You can’t. Lie to yourself all you want but this is what you need. Water splashes onto the floor as your leg slips into the tub, moans dancing freely from your lips. Your heart thumps like a techno beat, battling the light music in your headphones for dominance.

The pressure in your lower belly overtakes you, dangerously close to erupting. Crashing into your high, your eyes fall open and you’re met with a face you haven’t seen in months. You open your mouth to scream but a hand is already around your throat, dragging you out of the bathtub. 

“Where’s my brother?” the man shouts, the dim lighting in the bathroom only partially concealing a face twisted with rage.

You claw at his hands, nails slicing through his skin like razors. He grunts, gripping his bloody hand, and tosses you across the floor. A framed picture crashes to the floor as you hit the wall with a thud, your ears ringing at the impact. Turning to lunge at you again, he trips on the soaking wet bath mat and falls at your feet. You latch onto the toilet, struggling to pull yourself up when you’re still covered in bubbles.

“I know you know something! So tell me!” he demands, catching you by the ankle. He uses all of his strength to drag you down but you’re too slippery to hold onto.

“I don’t know where your fucking brother is!” you scream, grabbing onto the toilet tank. Tucking your fingers under the lip of the heavy lid, you pull at it as hard as you can. 

“You’re lying! Either tell me what happened or I’ll make you, you fucking bi—”

Ding! You swing around and crack him in the head with the porcelain lid. He stares up, not particularly at you, his gaze empty. Everything goes dark for him, blood gushing down his head, and he’s down. High off of adrenaline, you toss on your robe and run for the phone at the end of the hall. Hands shaking, tears running down your cheeks, you pick it up to call the cops. But something stops you.

Instinct takes over and your fingers are already dialing the new number. You wipe the tears from your cheeks and find yourself fixated on the bloody skin under your nails. The line rings so many times that you almost think no one will answer.

“My baby!” Han cheers on the other end of the call, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “I missed you.”

 There’s some shuffling followed by Minho’s voice, “We missed you!” 

You flick the skin from under your nails, smiling to yourself. “Hi boys,” you sniffle, knowing there’s no turning back, “I missed you too. You wouldn’t happen to be, uh, busy tonight would you?”

Minho feels like an old man who can’t get his dick up. It might actually be easier if he were. At least then there’d be a pill to fix what he’s going through. Ever since you walked out that door both he and Han have had the worst dry spell they’ve ever experienced. The only dry spell they’ve ever experienced. The last body they touched was your ex’s. They threw it, every last piece of it, somewhere no one would ever find him and left it at that. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

Detectives call what they’re going through a “cooling off” period. It’s the time between murders when a serial killer returns to their normal lives, biding their time until they can kill again. Poking his spoon around in a bowl of soggy cereal, a pouty Minho doubts that’ll happen any time soon. “I hate this!” he whines, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

Han pushes his legs away, flopping down beside him on the couch, “Get your feet off my coffee table.”

“Meh meh meh meh meh meh meh” Minho mocks, deflating when it hits him that he can hardly enjoy picking on Han anymore.

Han scooches closer to Minho, offering him a shoulder to lay his head on. Minho takes it, feeling Han’s sadness without having to see the heartbroken look on his face. No matter how much he teases him, Han’s his best friend. They’re brothers. They understand each other like no one else can and he knows how badly Han hoped you would too.

“You wanna go to the medical history museum tomorrow?” Minho asks, calling upon all of his cuteness to make Han happy.

Han doesn’t answer but exhales a “Hmm…” that signals he might be interested. 

Minho bats his eyelashes, laying it on heavy, “Come on, they have the world’s largest collection of human skulls. You know you love good head. I mean, no, wait, that didn’t…shit.” Han hangs his head, laughing so hard it makes him wheeze. “Why would you say that? Just why?”

Minho sits up, elbowing him in the side, “Fuck you. I was trying to cheer you up.”

Han throws his arms around Minho, hugging him tightly, “Stop sulking! I’ll go! Who needs a girl when you have the world’s largest collection of human skulls, ya know?”

Minho narrows his eyes, resisting the urge to fight against the hug just this once. Deep down inside, really deep, he loves it. “Exactly” he huffs, “Women are a distraction anyway. We’re better off without her.” 

Ring! Ring! Ring! The sound of the phone sucks all of the air from the room and their stomachs collectively sink. In record time they’re halfway across the room, pushing each other out of the way to check the caller ID. Your name flashes on it and Han snatches it up just as Minho’s fingers graze the buttons. 

Han answers the phone, almost too excited to contain himself, “My baby!” Minho folds his arms, quietly judging Han for being such a dork about this.

“I missed you” Han says, lower this time, his back turned to Minho.

What happened to not needing you? What happened to being better off without you? Oh, fuck it.

Minho steals the phone, blushing so hard his ears turn red, “We missed you.”

A minimum of six traffic laws were broken when the boys realized something had happened to you. Of course you couldn’t tell them the incriminating details over the phone. Luckily, hearing you cry was more than enough for them to stop everything and speed across the city to check on you. They really only cared about seeing you again but the presence of a possibly dead body doesn’t hurt.

In your second stroke of luck tonight, if you can call it that, you’re positive no one knows he’s here. There’s nothing on him to track him by. He came only with the tools he used to break in and a taser he no doubt intended to use on you. And there won’t be any fuss from your downstairs neighbor. She hasn’t been able to hear since 1982. All that’s left is the matter of what to do with him. 

Gathered in your bathroom, the three of you stand over the body carefully watching for signs of life. Han and Minho glance at each other behind your back. They’re both wondering the same thing but don’t know how to ask. They play a quick game of rock, paper, scissors. Han’s rock and he hates that for himself. Minho’s paper and he’s never been happier. Minho mouths, “Loser” and Han flips him off. 

“Baby” Han says sweetly, holding your hand, “Were you and this guy, like…”

You stare at him, happy to be holding his hand but genuinely confused, “Were we?” Reading the room, you pick up on what they mean. “No, no, no! Never! This…” you say, kicking the motionless body, “Is my ex’s shithead brother. He broke in cause he wants to know where his brother is.”

Minho shrugs, pulling the belt to your bathrobe out, “Let’s make sure they’re reunited then shall we?” He wraps the belt around each hand a few times until there’s tension in the fabric and just enough room to fit a human neck. Minho sits down on the floor, positioning the man’s head in his lap. He’s ready to tighten the belt around his neck but there’s something bugging him. “Do you guys hear that?”

You all listen closely, picking up on a nearly inaudible buzzing. Han follows the sound over to the bathtub where the bubbles have long dissolved and spots the source immediately. He rolls his sleeves up and reaches into the water, pulling out your vibrator.

“Oh my god. Give it here!” you shriek, taking it and switching it off. You toss it in the cabinet under the sink, unable to handle how much they’re obviously loving this. “So, did you come at least?” Minho asks, relaxing his hold on the belt. 

“I’m not answering that.” 

Han’s studied you enough to tell when you’re lying. “She did! Did you think about us when you did it?” 

Minho giggles, far too pleased with himself, “She did.” 

“Go to hell!” you snap, getting on your knees beside Minho. You take the belt from him, winding it around your hands the same way that he did. “Show me.”

Your boldness throws them off—this is far from what they were expecting—but they don’t hesitate to guide you. Han joins you on the other side, showing you how to hold the belt properly. Minho checks the pulse before propping the body up for you. It’s weak but it’s there. It feels natural to be doing this together, like the space between them was always meant to be one you’d inhabit.

“Thanks for coming, you guys” you say, seconds from strangling a man, “Most guys won’t even buy me flowers and you risked the electric chair for me. That’s way sweet”

“You’re worth risking the electric chair for” Han coos, kissing you on the cheek.

Minho nods in agreement, kissing you on the other cheek, “Cutie.”

Your cheeks are so warm and you can’t stop yourself from smiling. You’re basically glowing at the love being poured into you. It’s perfect enough that you regret running away from it to begin with but that won’t happen this time.

“Aah!” the man croaks, shooting back into consciousness. He tries to sit up but you use the belt to hold him down, squeezing it as hard as you can around his neck. You lock your legs around him, something they didn’t need to instruct you to do, and hang on until he goes limp. They look at you like they’re terrified of you, afraid to make any sudden movements in case you’re in the mood to come for them too. 

Han takes him by the wrist, checking his pulse, “He’s…dead. Holy shit. You killed a guy.” 

“I killed a guy?” 

“You did! Good girl” Minho applauds, breaking out into a happy dance.

You and Han join him, dancing to totally different songs in your head but celebrating together nonetheless. Han gets up from the floor, dusting himself off, “Now you’ve just gotta chop him up. Got any food in your fridge? I’m hungry.” He wanders off to the kitchen, leaving you and Minho alone in the bathroom.

Minho gets up too, kissing you on the top of the head. “I could use a midnight snack too” he yawns following Han’s lead, “Be careful with the radial artery, love. It bleeds like a bitch.” 

Pushing the body off of you, you hop up to chase after them. “Wait! You’re ditching me for snacks? I don’t have the tools for this. And what the fuck is a radial artery?”