#both for filing purposes and because i love it so much

[sob-dylan]

when you kill your bro’s nephew to protect your own interests and his, but then you feel a little bit bad about it because your bro looks like he might cry 😕

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

ft. gn!reader x anton ivanov, ben bigger, lighter, von lycaon, wise ; no applicable warnings! my first request (i tried to finish it before christmas in my timezone, but still, merry christmas to the anon who requested this :DD and to those reading!!) hehehhe i hope its good enough｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

anton ivanov

you cannot look me in the eye and tell me this man isn’t the type to yell “this is for you!” or “if i hit this you give me a kiss” and completely miss whatever target he’s supposed to hit. he hits it. sometimes. he still gets a kiss anyways.

[“dude” “we’re literally dating and you’ve placed your lips on mine do NOT call me dude.” “…babe”]

big on gift giving and words of affirmation in terms of love languages. he makes sure to put a lot of thought into whatever he gives to you to properly convey his appreciation and show just how much you mean to him.

"strong, sincere, and straightforward." he's definitely the type to encourage you to try new things especially when you're the type to get easily nervous. if you're scared of looking stupid, don't worry; he'll do it with you hand-in-hand so you can be stupid together. becomes your no. 1 hype man and would give you his honest opinions whenever you need ‘em.

you see or hear him talking to his jackhammer bro for the most mundane or random things and you've become used to it at this point. its honestly endearing (you're hopeless)

["bro do you think they'd still love me if i was a worm?" "vroom vroom vroom" “you think so?” “vroom” "yeah, you're right."]

ben bigger

scary bear privileges meaning no one wants to mess with you knowing that you're dating someone who cuts such an intimidating presence but you know better than them because ben would much rather use his paws to tap away at a calculator or spreadsheet than willingly get into fights.

on that note, he's most likely to be the best companion for grocery shopping; he'll know how to get all the good discounts and haggle for the best prices for sure.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 1. although he puts his fur care second, it's still soft and fuzzy to the touch and he likes that you appreciate the warmth it provides too.

since he struggles with some of his accounting responsibilities due to the size of his paws, sometimes you help him with sorting some of belobog industries' financial documents and eventually you end up finding the task quite relaxing after a while of doing it.

but, of course, he loves spending time with you outside of work. anything to take his mind off of the horrors of accounting. he'll mentally file away anything he learns about you when you're together for future purposes, may it be gift or date ideas.

he's the bear thiren between both of you, but in private he loves cuddling against you like you're some sort of plush toy. you don't mind. another win-win situation because you get to rest against him like a giant pillow as well.

lighter

he tries to be flirty with you and sometimes it works! but when you match his energy and it backfires on him he turns into a blushing mess who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

also the type to want to show off or act all suave. he has an image to keep as the undefeated champion! the red scarf! (he’s internally giggling and kicking his feet from one [1] cheek kiss you left in passing).

date nights with him sometimes consist of drives on his bike and stargazing at a nice little spot he found in blazewood. then halfway through, he’d get distracted from seeing the stars in your eyes and think that its a hundred times better than the real thing and fall in love all over again.

“gets as many challenges as love letters” but he makes sure that you and anyone who tries to make a move know that he only has eyes for you. could be in the form of having an arm around your waist or his jacket on you when you feel cold.

a physical touch and acts of service guy because. well. he did say he’d like to die for love one day. that’s a very romantic thing to say and do. also his heart still races whenever you hold his hand but he swears he’s getting used to it (he isn’t). probably melts when you gently run your fingers over his face or any of his scars

i honestly feel like he's one of those "me and my bae don't argue they just tell me to shut up and i do" types.

von lycaon

an ideal date for him would be a fancy dinner or picnic somewhere nice and discreet. complete with scented candles, your favorite flowers, and homecooked food (which probably tastes better than anything you've ever eaten at any restaurant). then at some point when both of you have finished eating and you're both in conversation, he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves a kiss on your knuckles.

["darling, your face is...concerningly red. are you feeling alright?" "i'm fine. i think."]

you WILL be receiving that prince/princess treatment (threat). breakfast in bed when he isn’t busy, spontaneous massages offered when you mention ONCE that you feel tired, and all that jazz. you probably will never have to open another door yourself with him around and he ALWAYS offers his arm for you to take when you're walking together.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 2. just prepare yourself for horrendous shedding as summer begins… but you don’t mind helping him brush through his fur (*´ω`*) its therapeutic and you’re one of the very few people he trusts with the task so its a win for both of you.

since he's a wolf thiren, he sometimes unwillingly attracts the attention of stray cats and dogs; he usually pays them no mind but it is somewhat of an inconvenience for him. however, the sight of you playing with them while quietly cooing eases some of his discomfort. seems like you aren't the only one suffering from cuteness aggression.

his guilty pleasure is squishing your cheeks in his hands. no i will not elaborate

wise

this is one of the random play managers we’re talking about, so. movie date nights are mandatory. both of you alternate when picking movies but sometimes you bicker over options like an old married couple just for the fun of it.

a lot more chill when it comes to PDA but he can be flirty when he wants to be. if he knows you have a weak spot for it, he uses it to his advantage to get what he wants. scheming little minx. /pos

words of affirmation and quality time guy, i think. since he's always so busy with managing the store and completing commissions alongside belle as proxies, he makes the most out of the time you guys can spend together alone. even if it's just laying in his bed or on the couch doing nothing together sometimes.

everyone and their mothers and grandmothers on sixth street will probably know that you’re dating or figure something out at some point even when both of you don’t really do much together in public/are trying to keep it on the low. never underestimate these aunties man

unfortunately for wise, he will become the target of teasing or nagging from belle when it comes to your relationship. once you get close enough she'll also share embarrassing stories from when they were younger or before you and wise started dating much to her brother’s chagrin.

secretly likes clinging and cuddling up to you like a koala. both of you are in bed? oh okay, don’t mind him, he’ll just scooch a bit and wrap his arms and legs around you, claiming that having you in his bed helps fix his insomnia (it does, to some degree). [“wise i can’t move.” “you don’t need to.”]

on the days you help out with tasks in random play, you could quite literally just be standing while doing something and then you’ll feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist from behind as he leans his head on one of your shoulders with a quiet, satisfied sigh.

[tonycries]

"Pull On It. Harder."

Synopsis. He liked to wear that little black hair tie everywhere. Why? Oh, it just reminds him of the way you tie his hair into a pretty lil’ ponytail - all while he's tonguefúcking you to insanity.

Pairings. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, cunnilingus, rough oral (female receiving), unprotected, overstim, slightly long haired! boys, they’re just a bit mean here, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 1.2k

A/N. I love long haired men and no one can do anything ab it.

He’s never seen without that little black hair tie around his wrist. 

He likes to take it with him, thumbing that red imprint on his skin whenever he misses you. It makes him think of how he’d run his hands through your hair at night. Or how you’d intertwine your fingers with his when out on dates.

And, of course, how you’d gather  his locks and tie it into a pretty little ponytail while he tonguefucks you into insanity.  

“Fuck, sweetheart. Barely even touched you and already so wet f’me.”

Nose-deep in your pussy, his bangs partially cover his heavenly view of you - spread underneath him, thighs trembling and cunt dripping all over his freshly cleaned bed sheets. Good, he thinks deliriously, preferring your scent to the overly artificial softener anyway. 

He isn’t too worried, though, knowing you’ll work your magic with his hair soon enough. Soon.

“Soon” happens to be when he’s pooling your sweet juices on his lips. Relentless tongue dipping in and out of your quivering hole at a maddening pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Oh, fuck, baby- Hngh- faster, fucking me on your tongue s’good.” Hips bucking up into his hot mouth for more more more. Making out heatedly with your pussy with the urgency of a madman. Stray strands sticking to his forehead, he looks up at you through half-lidded, absolutely feral eyes that devour you almost as much as the mouth on your cunt - soon.

Tongue bullying past your swollen folds, crooking just right to fuck you on it the way he needed to with his throbbing cock. “Yeah, just like that.” you moan deliriously.

His hair tie digs into his skin, as well as yours, as he forces your thighs on his shoulders, reaching to draw tight, little circles on your needy clit. Methodical, and purposeful.

He knew you were close when you reached down to urgently cup his head, bunching those silky locks in two trembling hands. Ever the gentleman - his hand expertly leaves its bruising grip spreading your thighs so shamefully open. Letting you all but rip off the hair tie off it.

Shaky fingers running through his locks, his breath hitches so deliciously as you hastily secure his soft strands into a small, loose ponytail. Movements urgent and as jerky as the snap of that small hair tie. 

Ah, there he was - you could cum just from seeing the absolutely feral look on his face. It should be a crime for those beautiful features to be covered by anything other than your dripping cunt. 

A predatory grin tugs at his lips against your swollen ones as you finish tying the small band. Ah, now he can really get into it. Your back arches, using the ponytail as leverage to demand more. Need more as he makes out with your pussy with newfound vigor.

Nails digging into his scalp, searing with your grip. You know he doesn’t mind - in fact, he even leans into your touch with a guttural groan, swallowing hard as he drives his tongue deeper into you. 

It’s messy - both the ponytail and the way he speeds up maddeningly, your slick smearing across his pretty face, trailing down to the sheets below. Tongue continuing its relentless abuse - over and over and-

At a merciless rhythm that has the bed creaking and you whining in pleasure - the neighbors were sure to file another noise complaint. Annoying old fuckers, should give them a real show. 

His breaths are almost as ragged as yours now - because fuck oxygen, he wanted to see his pretty girl fall apart on his tongue. A munch - as you liked to often joke - with no care in the world for anything other than making you cum hard enough to see stars.

“Fuck, baby- m’gonna- m’gonna hngh-”

And not only do you see stars, you probably see the pearly gates of heaven as you cum on his mouth. Convulsing and hips rutting up to ride out your high on his pretty face. Eyes dazed, lips swollen and absolutely pussy-drunk. 

That sinful glint in his eyes stays as he pulls away, an obscene trail of saliva and your slick connecting your lips to his chin. Cheeks flushed so deceivingly innocently, strands of silky hair falling out of that disheveled ponytail. A true masterpiece.

He watched you intently, drinking in every dip and curve. Breathtaking, absolutely breathtaking.

But the games are over now.

“Spread them f’me, sweetheart.”

Looming over you, eyes burning with raw desire. Cock throbbing and leaking delicate beads of precum as he positions himself, furiously flushed tip nudging your sloppy hold. He pumps himself. Once. Twice. Being merciful enough to give you a second of respite.

Without warning, he surges forward. Bullying his thick cock into your snug cunt in one, swift thrust. Not stopping till he’s all the way. His lips crush against yours, stifling your cry of pain and pleasure at finally getting what he’s been teasing you with for so long.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into your dripping cunt. Nails raking down his sculpted back as he starts up a feral, unforgiving pace. Each ram of his cock into your cunt erratic, hitting your cervix and pulsing against that one spot deliberately. Again. And again. Like a madman possessed. 

“Baby- Hngh-” you whine sinfully, hips bucking wildly against to meet his almost-animalistic cadence, reaching out a shaky arm towards him. He knows what that means. How could he not?

Holding your hungry gaze as he leans down, sweaty forehead meeting yours. One hand cradles your face, while the other hooks a finger underneath that godforsaken hair tie and pulls. Letting the ponytail - that at this point could barely even be called one - fall apart, just as you were underneath him. 

Eyes glassy and dazed, soft little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. The only thing behind those pretty eyes being him and the big cock stuffing you full. So close to cumming. 

Bangs partially covering the sinful view that was you - but right now, he didn’t care. Not when you’re snaking a hand up to his locks and pulling. Hard.

“Yeah, just like that. Pull on it. Harder.” Fucked-out, broken little grunts leave his throat as he lets you continue your little ministrations, tugging on his hair especially hard when he purposefully misses that little spot he knew drove you wild. Over and over.

Now, he doesn’t want to sound like a masochist - his friends would probably laugh their asses off at that - it’s just it hurts so good when it’s you.

Which is why, two strong hands rest above your head, fingers lacing, pushing you down down down impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock. You keen in response, “Ah! Hngh- oh, baby jus’ like that. M’gonna cum.”

Ha, as if he’d be that nice. 

Pulling out in one, fluid motion, he relishes in your disappointed whine at the sudden disappointment. Taking the opportunity to gather your hair in his fists, fingers deftly forming a makeshift ponytail with a snap! of that little hair tie. 

Leaning down to whisper in your ear, voice gravelly and hot against your ear. “Not yet. Suck on my cock without this ponytail falling apart, sweetheart. Then we’ll see about that orgasm, hm?”

Because you love to see his face.

And, of course, he loves to see yours.

- GETO, CHOSO, GOJO, Kuroo, KENMA, Sakusa, EREN, Jean

A/N. I’m ngl this is very much self-indulgent pls.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[404lizzylizard]

Personal Space

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1,600

Tone: Flirty, fluffy, slow-burn with teasing

Warnings: suggestiveness (tinsy tiny), one brain cell shared between Spencer and the reader when it comes to feelings

a/n: spencer Reid fic from the polee (I was hoping it was George Weasley😖) but I still love me some reid

Your desk faces forward. Spencer’s desk is directly behind yours, parallel in that perfect, FBI-efficient way. Which means you spend approximately 62% of your time slowly spinning in your chair to talk to him.

It started innocently—questions about reports, inside jokes during late nights, coffee refills delivered with a dramatic swivel. But now, it’s become a habit. You lean over his desk without thinking, draping across his space, nudging papers, stealing pens, “borrowing” candy.

And the most fascinating part?

He never tells you to stop.

Hotch once walked by and you were halfway sitting on Spencer’s desk, poking at his notes with your pen, and Spencer didn’t even blink. But when Morgan tried to leave his coffee cup on Spencer’s stack of files?

Spencer swatted it off like a fly and snapped, “Please don’t clutter my workspace.”

That’s when Morgan noticed.

“Yo, Pretty Boy,” Morgan says one morning, leaning on the edge of your desk with a too-wide grin. “How come when I so much as breathe near your books, you act like I’ve threatened national security, but she—” he nods toward you, where you’re perched backward in your chair, full torso leaning into Spencer’s space “—basically lives in your lap and you don’t say a damn word?”

Spencer glances up from his files, ears already pink. “I don’t—she’s not—”

You spin fully around, chin in your hand. “I’m charming. It’s a well-documented immunity.”

Morgan chuckles, folding his arms. “So that’s how it is?”

“Could be,” you say sweetly. “Unless someone else wants to let me take over their desk space and steal their snacks.”

Morgan holds up his hands. “Nah, nah. I like my boundaries.”

Spencer murmurs something into his folder, barely audible.

“What was that?” you ask, turning to him again with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“I said you can keep stealing my snacks,” he mumbles, not meeting your gaze.

Morgan gives you both the most dramatic side-eye ever recorded in Quantico history. “Mm-hmm.”

You test it later, just to see.

You drape yourself across Spencer’s desk with zero purpose—just your elbows propped up and your chin in your palms, watching him work.

���You're gonna get a paper cut to the face one day,” Emily says as she walks by, smirking.

“I’m conducting important psychological field research,” you reply. “Studying the Reid in his natural habitat.”

Spencer glances at you. “That implies I’m some kind of… lab rat.”

You grin. “A cute lab rat.”

Spencer stares for a second too long, then blinks and returns to his files. His ears? Pink.

Two days later, you wear something a little… new. Not scandalous. Just a fitted wrap top with a neckline that dips a little lower than usual. It hugs your waist. Shows just a hint more. You don't plan it for Spencer.Okay. Maybe you do. A little.

You barely sit down before you turn in your chair again, arms draped over the back as you rest your chin near Spencer’s stack of books.

“Morning,” you say softly.

His head snaps up. His eyes flick to your face—and then, instinctively, lower.

Just for a second. Barely a blink.

But you catch it.

He looks away immediately, pretending to read a chart. His posture is too straight. His jaw clenched.

You smirk. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” he says, not looking up.

You lean just a little closer. “You seem tense.”

Morgan, passing by, drops his coffee right into a trash can because he’s not subtle. “Well, well, well. Interesting outfit choice, sunshine.”

“Thanks!” you chirp, fully unbothered. “Spencer didn’t say anything, but he looked.”

Spencer chokes.

Emily stops mid-step. “Reid. Did you stare at cleavage on government property?”

“I didn’t stare,” he sputters, burying his face in a case file. “I glanced. There’s a difference. It’s neurological.”

“Dude,” Morgan says, grinning like the cat that caught the mouse. “You are down bad.”

You laugh, and Spencer gives you a helpless, side-eyed glance. It’s adorable.

Later, when the bullpen empties out for lunch, you linger. He’s still sitting at his desk, scribbling in his notebook, pretending nothing happened.

You perch yourself on the corner of his desk. “You really didn’t mind?”

Spencer looks up at you slowly, expression softer now. “When you’re here?”

He shrugs, offering a half-smile. “It actually makes the day better.”

Your chest flutters, but you stay cool. “Even when I mess up your system?”

“I built a new system,” he admits.

“Around you”

You blink.

“Oh.”

He clears his throat, going back to his notes. “Anyway.”

You hop off the desk and lean in close, lips near his ear. “In that case… I’m never sitting straight again.”

Spencer swallows hard. “Please don’t.”

You grin. “Told you. I’m charming.”

As you walk away, you don’t have to look back to know he’s watching.

And for once, you’re the one who doesn’t say a word…

[kxsagi]

Hiiii!!! I was wondering if you could write Rin, Sae, Isagi and others with an S/O who gets annoyed easily? Like not full blown anger but like dirty looks a lot to whatever’s making them angry?

-P.S. I hope you’re doing wonderful! Pls remember to eat drink and sleep. I love your works

“𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧”

a/n: why is reader kinda reminding me of sae

also thank you so much! i am doing well and i hope you are too! i don't ever neglect self-care so don't you either, queen. love you!

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael, mikage reo, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito

itoshi rin

he noticed it on the second date when you glared at the waiter for forgetting your drink and then sweetly said, “it’s okay, take your time,” with the fakest smile known to mankind. 

rin just blinked and thought: oh. you’re terrifying. i like that. 

he secretly loves it when you give him those little death glares, like when he asks, “do you really need five types of hot sauce?” 

you’ll slowly turn to him, furrow your brows like you're staring into his soul, and rin will immediately hold his hands up like, “i said nothing. you’re right. continue.” 

gets a little smirk every time you look like you're about to blow a fuse over something stupid like people standing too close in line. 

you mutter “are you serious right now” under your breath at least ten times a day and rin lives for it. 

surprisingly good at calming you down in his deadpan way – just throws an arm around you and whispers, “don’t commit murder in public. you look too good to go to jail.” 

itoshi sae

oh he thinks you’re hilarious. 

loves pushing your buttons just to watch the annoyed face you make. he’ll tap his fork against the table repeatedly and be like, “oh? does this bother you?” 

you glare at him over your drink like you're about to file for divorce and he just chuckles. 

whenever you're annoyed at someone else, he just stands behind you looking proud like, “yes, that’s my girl. destroy them with passive aggression.” 

the type to hold your hand and lean down all amused: “princesa, relax. you’re gonna burn holes in them if you keep staring like that.” 

sometimes purposely says something just slightly incorrect to watch you spiral into irritation, like calling your favorite show the wrong name. 

you hit him with a side-eye and he just laughs and kisses your temple like, “calm down, miss attitude.” 

isagi yoichi

tries so hard not to laugh when you’re annoyed because he knows if he does, you’ll aim your laser glare at him. 

you’re both walking and someone bumps into you and doesn’t say sorry, cue you muttering “rude” under your breath and giving them the look. 

isagi looks away like he's pretending not to know you. 

but lowkey loves how expressive you are. he always knows when something’s off because you’ll start doing that little sigh-grimace combo. 

if you're annoyed at him, he gets nervous. starts doing damage control like, “do you want me to fix it? i’ll fix it. i’ll buy you food. please stop looking at me like that.” 

calls you “grumpy cutie” under his breath sometimes and hopes you don’t hear. 

you definitely do. you just glare harder. 

kaiser michael

he thinks it’s adorable. 

you give the most intense side-eyes and he always goes, “aww, someone’s mad again. it’s so cute when you get feisty.” 

you: squints at him like a disappointed teacher. 

him: smirking harder. 

he finds it hot when you're irritated at other people, especially in public – you’re all soft and sweet until someone cuts in line or talks loudly on speaker. 

he’s in the background like, “get ‘em, baby.” 

when you glare at him, he dramatically clutches his chest and goes, “ow! you wound me! your gaze is like daggers, meine liebe.” 

makes it worse on purpose just to see how annoyed he can get you before you throw a pillow at him. 

mikage reo

he buys you things when you get annoyed. 

like, you glare at a sales assistant for being rude and reo immediately drags you out like, “you deserve better. pick a new store. actually, buy the whole store.” 

thinks your dirty looks are iconic. sometimes he tries to copy them in the mirror and ends up laughing at himself. 

he loves watching you get annoyed at something dumb like a commercial or your phone lagging, and he’ll coo, “do you need help, baby? or should i just sit here and admire how scary you look right now?” 

he keeps a “mood diary” of your expressions, especially the annoyed ones. “day 18: she glared at the barista for spelling her name wrong again. breathtaking.” 

shidou ryusei

oh he lives for it. 

you glare, and he grins. you scoff, and he cackles. you say “you’re annoying.” and he says “so are you, baby.” 

literally follows you around asking annoying questions just to get the face out of you. 

“what’s that face? what’s that face mean? are you mad? are you mad mad?” 

you groan, “shidou, i swear–” 

“swear what? you gonna kiss me? you look like you wanna kiss me.” 

if anyone else annoys you, he immediately threatens violence in your honor. 

your glares = green light for him to go feral. 

“she’s angry, huh? who did it? point me at ‘em.” 

karasu tabito

first time he saw your “i’m not mad, just deeply judging you” face, he physically flinched and went “okay damn… what did i do?” 

now? he’s addicted to it. actively tries to catch you in annoyed mode because it’s his favorite version of you. 

you sigh and glare at your phone? “what happened, baby? you arguing with twitter again?” 

you glare at the microwave for taking too long? “you look like you're gonna beat that thing up. should i get popcorn?” 

if someone talks too loud near you in public and you do the slow head turn with that look, karasu’s right next to you whispering, “you want me to throw hands or…?” 

when you’re annoyed at him, he defends himself by gaslighting in the most unserious way: “me? bothering you? i would never. i'm a joy to be around. a blessing.” 

you don’t even say anything, just cross your arms and tilt your head, and he immediately goes, “okay okay fine, i’ll stop breathing too loud.” 

he is your #1 hype man and bodyguard rolled into one whenever someone else makes you mad. you give them a look, and he gives them a worse one. 

“that guy looked at you funny.” 

“karasu, i looked at him funny.” 

“yeah and he didn’t immediately apologize, so i’m about to fight him anyway.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[pinkiemachine]

Batman’s love interests 💕 OooohooHOO!

Okay, so in Gotham Files, it’s going to be canon that Bruce dated all of these women at some point in time, because he is a billionaire playboy philanthropist.

First off, there’s Zatanna, and they dated briefly back in high school. It didn’t work out because Bruce was still very much not in a good place, still grappling with the loss of his parents, being the “Prince of Gotham,” etc, etc. So they grew apart and went their separate ways. (This is Z when she was 18-20ish)

Vicki was his college flame. (Side note, this pic is Vicki when she’s an adult, in [current year] of the tv show.) Anyway, they had their fun, but Bruce was really just trying medicate his ✨ trauma ✨ and his ✨ feelings ✨ with good times, and it quickly became apparent that they weren’t a real solid couple in the ways that matter. So, by the time they graduated, they had already broken up. They both knew what paths in life they were taking, and they were going in two different directions.

Then there’s the fan-favourite, Talia Al Ghul. After college, Bruce went on his world travels, did a bunch of soul searching, learned a lot of skills, had a lot of teachers, vented a lot of his anger, and wound up learning under Ra’s Al Ghul in the League of Shadows, and wouldn’t you know it, he has a daughter and they kinda dig each other. It was probably the most passionate relationship Bruce had ever had up until that point, and he might have pursued her all the way… if it weren’t for the whole death cult thing… So, even though they had great chemistry, their moral codes were simply not aligned at all, and so it was destined to fail.

Theme: Clarity, covered by Sam Tsui

Then, when Bruce got back to Gotham, he wound up running into an old childhood friend of his, Silver St. Cloud. She’s a member of the Gotham upper class, they knew each other as kids, and I’m thinking it might be cute if she was always crushing on him back then, like that one girl who would just openly say things like, “Marry me!” and it’s super cute, but the feelings are NOT reciprocated XD Anyway, this relationship will only last a short while, and I haven’t decided if I want to play it straight, or use it for comedic purposes, or do both, but it’ll be fun either way.

Theme: Crowded Room by Meghan Trainor

Finally, there’s Selina, who needs little introduction. She is the end game. She is my OTP. The bus stops here. I give you, Mrs. Wayne.

Theme: Never Not Love You by Michael Buble

[twistedpink]

Hiya hiya it's me again! (And I hope you are having a good night/day) So where I was left off, house wardens taking care of your back because they left so many scratches after a spicy night 😳 but also maybe with different reactions and how they noticed the scratches??? I can't think of any scenarios 😭 but I would love to hear your opinion 👍

TYTY IM FREED

I just KNOW Riddle is an A+ scratcher. NOTHING is off limits. Your only saving grace is with how groomed his nails are, you’re practically mark free! Goes bright red and sighs a lot (GUILTY 🫵🤯) when the time comes to apply antiseptic, but is overall v thorough and gentle, 7/10. Usually notices if you sleep naked or he’s fixing your collar/hair!

Leona is the second worst, and not because he needs a lot of grounding, but his nails are LONG LONG for no reason,, God your poor legs,, 5/10. Prone to scraping you up during play fights, but isn’t very guilty about it unless you express a fear of infection or scarring.. Lowkey blames YOU for not cutting his nails, but only because he doesn’t want to hurt his pookie <3 (laughs at you for having thin skin. Secretly wants you to get him back x10.)

Refuses to have long nails. Being very much a “real men only have clear coats” guy, Azul doesn’t scratch, but it’s the hitting that’s bad,, He can’t help it, but that doesn’t make it BETTER!! No matter how gentle he goes about it, the little pinches and punches against your skin’ll bruise eventually, but he’s always open to massages! 6/10. V pathetic and cute about it. (Please don’t eat him)

VERY SWEET! VERY DEMURE! Kalim only scratches on purpose!! With all the oils and creams you’re slathered with it’s a challenge to get any real grip, but sometimes you’ve gotta scratch that mental itch with a physical one,, Straight up LATCHES so it’s just crescent moon after moon on your biceps and back, but he makes a point to kiss and soothe every. Single. One. So you can’t stay toooooo mad :D,, 9/10!!

Vil cares too much about the both of you to “mark you up” in that way- Of course he has moments of weakness where your hair and neck pay the price, but cat scratches just aren’t in the cards for you,, You KNOW that’ll mess up his manicure, and do you want to spend an hour getting patched up?? Okay maybe you do,, But that’s besides the point! He has things to do that don’t involve cleaning sweat and grossness from under his nails. 5/10 for cleanliness. Might as well bang in a hospital bed. There’s no advanced sloothing for how he finds them, just that your nightly back scratch turns into a horror movie pretty quick,,

One accurate word describes Idia and his gamer nails. Grooooooooooooooosssssssssssssssssss,, The ONLY way to trim them is to hold him down like a dog getting clipped, and even then he’s still whining about how they’ll break on their own time- He knows they’ll get all snaggy, but doesn’t he look cool? (Don’t encourage his delusion) Very much cultivating claws rather than human nails, but is emotionally attached to your mangled back. 4/10. Doesn’t have to “discover” them, knows EXACTLY what he’s doing.

The one true exfoliater to trump them all,, Malleus may not have experience or sex appeal on his side, but he has HOOKS in you, and that’s a sure way to keep you loyal!! He gasps like a murder witness whenever you get naked because “my word however could this happen??” while crying a little and trying to stop his lip from quivering :( Basically wraps you in bubble wrap and puts himself in a chastity belt, but not before having the worst phone call of your life and getting his dad to patch you up!! Lilia KNOWS what you’ve been up to and couldn’t be prouder! Just learn how to use a nail file for next time, alright? 8/10!! <3

@bju3c0re @kyokills

[yey56]

HARLEY SAWYER X PSYCHOLOGIST READER

After Harley being turned into the system of Playtime co

After the hour of Joy, both Sawyer and you got separated and while he was secured to a system and manage to strike a deal with the prototype, you were still human and very much in danger.

After what happened Sawyer became more obsessive, more paranoid. Searching for you through every camera and sending Yarnaby to expeditions to try and find you.

Harley and you were basically the only ones who had interacted with Yarnaby so far so the yarn lion knew you pretty well and was happy to search for you.

But really, the doctor searched for your presence in every camera, every sensor detector. Hell he even started setting traps for Doey because he though he would know were you are.

Of course, you were hiding in places with no camera because of the less amount of toys that lived in that areas. Therefore, much safer.

You would try to go upstairs again to search for food and for Harley, or at least of what happened to him. Of course you found nothing since there was not really that much time for paperwork after your stunt.

You only found a black tape with the title "the doctor" in it but so far you haven't found any system to plug it in so you can watch it.

And Harley, well, unlike you he has all the information of Playtime Co at his very whim.

When he is not searching for you or trying to hunt the remaining of Doeys group, he look at your files. Your photos before entering the company in your curriculum vitae; the ones when you were working in the company, some of which you are accompanied by him and other researchers; and the ones of the recent days before the hour of joy.

Talking about Doey, he also searched for you, scared for your well being. He knew you would go alone and even if he doubt the doctor would purposely harm you, he knew others will.

The children are just worried for their adoptive parent friend

You weren't aware yet of what Sawyer had been turned into. But you were aware that whatever living creature in this factory was a potential threat to you. That's the reason you tried to save every bullet of the only gun you had.

You would sometimes remember some of Harley's habits. Like for example his insistence of not eating sweet pickles. You remembered how, one day you went to get food for the food of you per his request and picked to burgers.

When you came back to the office to eat your dinner and started to bite in the food Harley made a unpleased look.

Do they have pickles in it?- he asked disgusted- I swear I cannot stand this things. So horribly disgusting...

Oh, yeah sorry, I didn't know. You can give them to me if you don't like them. I love them so theres no problem.- you responded, playing down the pickle problem

He loocked at you, frowning. With the plastic fork that was next to him he withdrew the remaining pickles on his burger and gave them to you.

Of course now that Harley knew you in fact like those pickles then he would ask for them in your food when it was his turn to go upstairs and pick your lunches.

Members of the stuff were absolutely amused when they saw Dr Harley Sawyer up on the cafeteria, he almost never ventured to the upper levels. And they were even more amused when he asked not for one but two lunches and one of them with pickles.

After a former assistant of his was fired for adding sweet pickles in his lunch almost everyone in the company new for his aversion for that food.

You didn't knew that then but most of the stuff at Playtime Co just guessed that the second lunch was for you so they assumed you both were dating or seeing each other.

Other thing you didn't know was how, after being turned into a computer system, Harley wouldn't stop asking the other employees for you. What had they done to you, if you had been relocated or if you had been "taken care off"

The only one who responded to him was Leith, who wasted no time bragging about your new relocation and how you were growing in your new job.

Also, Leith made sure to tell the rest of the employees to not tell Sawyer about you asking about him. And of course not to say a word to you about the new "AI" assistant.

Sometimes you felt a little bit dumb, remembering all of this now. Most possible situation was that Harley was already dead. And surely it would be your fault.

But Harley also thought the same thing of the memories he was holding on to. So yeah basically mutual pinning over each other. This is my definition of a long distance relationship.

And addressing the hour of joy... Poppy doesn't really know what yo think about you. Sure you have freed them but why? She doesn't know if to trust you but believes you are a better option than the doctor so if the situations ever comes she could be able to work with you.

When the doctor got himself a body (those robots with TV heads) he felt nude in some way. Even though he was only metal and cables.

To solve this he took some old lab coats to make himself a cover. The only lab coat he kept intact was yours. He found a way to incorporate it on his new coat. The pin with your name still on it.

And strangely you have done something similar. You found Harley's old lab coat while exploring the company searching for food. Resting in his old office chair. You put it on and took it with you. It was bigger than you but hey, long coats never get old. Sure,.you had to roll up the sleeves but nothing that can't be solved.

This one is shorter than usual but I'm working on chap 3 so I wanted to drop this off first. Thanks for the support. All of you are amazing and deserve the best. 🥰😭

-Unedited head cannons-

I made some updates in chap 2 because I wanted reader to spend some time wondering were Sawyer might be

[sundew199]

dickhead reiner??? hate sex??? i dunnoo!! just a quick little idea😈

as much as I love my soft, sweet, passionate, tender Reiner I will never turn down an opportunity to whore myself out and write some hate sex 🫦

hehehe enjoy!! and thank you for the delicious ask!

(also sorry about taking a hot minute on this, you sent the ask right as I was leaving work and then irl things kept distracting me lmaooo)

tags: reiner x f!reader, canon complaint timeline, oral!receiving, semi-public sex, hate sex, kinda rough sex, choking, both parties are assholes hehe, smut

Vice Chief Braun was the one person who could make your blood boil just about instantly. The way he walked around like he was the most important person on base and spoke in such a condescending tone, like he was a know it all. He ground your gears so badly, the two of you couldn't be in a room together longer than five minutes before the arguing started. You knew he felt the exact same way about you, caught the whispers between him and Zeke passing by one of their offices. God you fucking hated him.

As a tactician for the warrior unit, you were responsible for drawing up battle plans and strategies for the war in the Mid-East. Everyone valued your opinion, except one. Reiner had some sort of superiority complex returning from Paradis and always had a counterargument or just something to fucking say about whatever you had presented and it was demeaning. Zeke brought up your "attitude" several times in meetings with just him and you, and you always hit him back with "Well make sure you have a conversation with you Vice Chief too." because it wasn't just you.

Entitled fucking motherfucker who didn't even deserve the armored to begin with.

The days when Zeke wasn't available to go over strategies were the days you dreaded, because that meant you'd be going over them with Reiner. And today was one of those days.

Rapping your knuckled beneath the nameplate nailed to the door, you exhaled the long breath through your nose and tried to unscrew your face just as he opened the door. He looked you up and down, moving to the side and letting you in with no words exchanged.

"Good to see you're extra cheery today." Quipping behind you, letting the door slam.

"Don't start with me Braun, I'm not in the mood."

"What's new."

Steadying your breathing, clutching the large file against your chest, you slammed it down on top of the papers already there. Was it that hard for him to file stuff away properly?

"I've got to meet with Magath later, so let's make this quick." Announcing your urgency to him as he came to stand on the other side of the desk, plopping down in the desk chair.

"All depends on you." Pressing two fingers to his temple and letting out an annoyed sigh. Maybe one good punch to the jaw would set him straight, knock around that brain of his.

Taking another deep breath, you moved the scattered papers away from where your file was set, ignoring the way he snapped, until he eventually gave up and just let you do as you pleased. Taking out the maps that have been marked a dozen or more times, you unfolded it over everything.

"In a month, all the warriors will be shipped out to Fort Slava to take the base. Zeke has proposed using pure titans for the attack, airdropping them down to lessen the amount of fighters they'll have stationed there. You'll drop down before him and take out their artillery, leaving Zeke the opening to cripple their Navy."

"What's the point of pure titans then? I'm going to pulling all the weight for the beginning of this operation."

Was he not listening? You just explained it to him, what more detail and clarification did he need?

Sighing and pinching your brows with your thumb and index, you plopped down onto the seat behind you and glared at him, only to receive the blankest expression he's ever given you.

"The purpose of the pure titans is to keep them occupied while you drop down, they only have so many men to divide their focus, so you'll need to work quickly."

Reiner scoffed then, rolling his eyes and sitting up, hunching over the map and tracing his fingers over the lines and dots that had been placed by you and Zeke. His veiny hand was hard to pull away from, hard to not imagine the strength behind it. As much as you hated Reiner, he was attractive, conventionally attractive, too bad he was duller than a rock and the most difficult man to work with. In another universe maybe you'd be fluttering your lashes and wooing him into your bedroom, surely the man knew how to use the thing between his legs.

Fingers snapped to grab your attention, destroying the mild fantasy in your head and sending your blood pressure to skyrocketing new levels.

"I asked you a question."

"Repeat it. Obviously I didn't hear you." Snapping back, tapping your pen harshly against the map, seeing the way the fire behind his eyes burned just as brightly as yours, the mutual distaste you shared for one another.

"Have you considered the advantage of creating a blockade, scrap the pure titans and just sending in the warriors?"

"If I had, do you think I would be going over this plan with you now?" Clenching your pen and roughly circling where Fort Slava was and digging the end into the paper. "Creating a blockade requires supplies and patience, Marley is out of patience and wants this done the quickest way possible."

Reiner rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair, fishing for the box of cigarettes in his coat pocket, lighting one and taking a long drag before holding it between his fingers. "It's a waste of pure titans when we could be sending them to Paradis."

"Marley isn't going to waste pure titans on Paradis, not when we're about to have the Mid-east in a chokehold they can't get out of, use your fucking head Braun."

The end of his cigarette was pinched between his fingers as he brought it up for another drag, maintaining eye contact with you and that hateful look was shining brighter. Swallowing the smoke, being considerate for once, Reiner mulled over his own thoughts for a moment.

"And Zeke has approved all of this?"

"Obviously yes, there's still a few minor tweaks to be made, but I'm running it by you since you are second in the chain of command."

"Let me guess, minor tweaks as in bending to Zeke's will and letting him have his way?" Laughing in a way that made your blood boil from the condescension. The fucking ego on him.

"This is exactly why I don't like going over shit with you."

"Oh? Is it because someone actually challenges you, makes you think?" Sitting up in his chair and inhaling the cigarette until it was nearly finished, not bothering to swallow the smoke, letting it pour from his mouth as he spoke. "You've got a big head and even bigger ego for being a tactician."

The unbridled rage that turned into a fire in your veins was reaching a boiling point, standing up and walking to his side of the desk, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You're one to talk."

"Oh am I?" Standing up as he grabbed another cigarette from his pocket, swatting your finger away and forcing you to backtrack away from him. You forgot how big the man actually was, dwarfing you easily and suddenly the thought of that was arousing. Sure you hated Braun with every fiber in you, but shit, you'd been so busy lately it was a struggle to find time to give yourself relief.

"That's what I said."

He laughed again and kept walking toward you, knowing sooner or later you were going to back into a wall. "Your ego is bigger than the fucking titan you wield, maybe even bigger than Zeke's and yet you have nothing to show for, all talk."

Now he was beginning to actually look angry and something in you was satisfied with that, curling into a smirk as you realized that you were getting under his skin, just right. His face morphed into a sick satisfied look as he leaned in close once you hit the back on the wall he walked you into, purposely blowing smoke over your face.

"At least I'm doing the actual fighting, you just sit there at a desk on your high horse for drawing up strategies that somehow work out, after of course we change a thing or two to make them work that is."

Impulsively you slapped him across the face and shoved him away, breathing hard and shaking with anger. He said all those things on purpose to get to you, but you didn't fucking care, he deserved it. Reiner looked at you appalled, the cigarette in the corner of his mouth dangling and he took another drag.

"Fuck you."

"Oh I'm sure you want too."

What? Why was heat rushing throughout your body when he said that? Why was your anger simmering as he gave that smug look, one corner of his mouth curled into a smirk as he dangles a cigarette off his lips.

"I don't." Firmly stating, though you weren't even confident in that answer at all. Reiner chuckles and steps towards you again, slowly. You screw and pinch your face as much as you could but it didn't feel real even to you.

"You're a bad liar."

"Even if I was, why would I waste my time with someone who barely knows how to use the thing between his legs."

"You wouldn't be wasting your time sweetheart."

And that was all it took for you to be sprawled out on his desk, papers and files scattered all over the floor from him clearing it off to throw you on top. Hands frantically tore at the other's body, lips biting and sucking the skin that was revealed. All inhibitions were thrown out the door once he sat in his desk chair, leaving you on that desk after ravenging you with his lips, fisting and stroking his thick cock. Whatever came over you was unknown, because you were sliding off the desk and dropping to your knees to suck the tip into your mouth.

His head flew back and a hand fisted your hair instantly, as you started to bob up and down despite the instant ache in your jaw from his size. He was more vocal than you expected, groans and moans of your name slipping so easily from his lips that it made you bit prideful you were quickly able to reduce him to this state.

The greedy fucker shoved his cock down your throat without warning and you choked, digging your nails into his thighs and yet that only turned him on more it seemed, laughing in satisfaction.

"So eager to swallow a cock huh?"

A small pinch to his thigh and he was letting you breathe again, coming up quickly and furrowing your brows. It was funny how he thought he had all the control, and you weren't going to let him think he did.

Standing up on your feet, undoing the belt that held your trousers up, leaving the white coat he ripped open on, your tits bouncing as you finished undressing.

"All you know how to do his talk." Grabbing his face, squeezing his mouth between your hand as you swung your legs over to plant your knee into the leather of the chair, hovering over his leaky cock. "Bet that was the first time someone's deepthroated you huh?"

The warmth of your cunt radiating down on his cock, sent a shiver up his spine, teasing him so deliciously in thinking you were seconds away from spearing yourself on him.

"Not the first and certainly won't be the last." Growling back through his puckered lips, eventually shaking his head out of your hand and pinning it to you back. "Bet you've never taken someone that size before, I could hear the way you fuckin' choked."

There was a satisfaction in his voice, one that angered you so easily. Without giving it much thought, you slammed yourself down on his dick, gasping out and clawing at the nape of his neck, feeling a tiny bit of blood seep under your nails. Stupid bastard may have actually been right about something, you don't think you've taken someone as thick as he is and you were struggling to adjust.

Reiner shared a similar reaction to yours, throwing his head back and cursing out as loudly as he could, the warmth of your cunt suffocating around him in an instant. Despite hating you with everything, he did give you a moment to adjust, he wasn't an animal. But once you were, he was digging his nails into the meat of you ass and fucking up into you, biting down your neck and sucking noticeable marks along the way. And you wouldn't have that.

"The fuck are you doing?" Choking out in a whiny voice, yanking him back by his hair and trying to suppress the moans from the way his cockhead was pressing against your cervix with every thrust.

His eyes shone with the asshole mischief and he harshly bit down on the side of your neck again, pulling himself free from your grip. God, if he weren't somewhat important to Marley, you would've fucking killed him. But you couldn't deny how good you felt right now, so maybe you wouldn't, maybe keep him around to scratch that certain itch that came from time to time.

His pace remained relentless, fast and unforgiving as his feet planted into the wood floors and the squeak of the chair gave way to the rhythm he fucked you too. It was all blurring, your vision nothing but as haze at the fat thick cock of Reiner Braun brought you nearer and nearer to an orgasm.

"You offer yourself this freely to everyone or am I just lucky?" Sneering in such a way the fiery lust boiling in your gut was mixing with anger. Where does he get his fucking audacity from?

"Fuck you." Spitting back, gyrating your hips against his pelvis, stimulating your clit on the sliver of skin revealed by his white button-up riding up on his stomach. And shit, he was built, seeing the ends of his adonis belt and starting to salivate over the man you hated.

"What do you think I'm doing baby?" Lifting you suddenly after breathing out his smart ass remark and carrying you the short distance to lay you back on his desk. The khaki coat and button-up came off, and to your disappointment he wore an undershirt.

Locking your legs around his waist lasted about half a second, his hands coming down to pin your legs to the desk, another cocky and arrogant looking coming from him. You tried to kick him in retaliation, but his lips landed on yours and it was impossible to try and act disgusted, because they were soft and plush, tasting the remnants of his last cigarette on his tongue as it delved into your mouth.

When he broke the kiss, he sent a sharp thrust into you, and you wailed from pleasure, subsequently coming around him and the satisfaction on his face was enough to make you regret allowing yourself to do so in the first place.

Reiner held on of your hip as his vigorous pace renewed, slamming into you and grunting, holding his shirt out of the way with his teeth, giving you a clear view of his sculpted body. Every part of you wanted to bite and suck at the muscle, mark him like he did you, but he was too out of reach.

Time felt like a blur as he stretched and split you open on his cock, so much so you barely registered when his thrusts turned erratic and his groans turned into whines, the telling sign that he was close. Your mind was screaming to tell him to cum in you and you didn't have any explanation as to why you wanted that.

"Getting close? C'mon big boy whine for me." Taunting him and seeing the irritation flash across those golden eyes, a new determination written in them and your cunt fluttered in happiness because you knew he was about to do something out of spite.

A meaty hand came to wrap around your throat, the one on your hip as he still held his undershirt out of the way with his teeth. Arching and moaning like an absolute whore, you threw your legs around him at the last second and held him flush to your hips as his cum filled you immediately.

Reiner released his shirt and panted, still keeping his hand tight around your throat and you merely mouth the words 'do it' to see if he actually would. You had no healing powers and knew the guilt that clung to him and you wondered if he was the actual killer him and others made him out to be. He hated you right?

"Fucking psycho." Was all he said as he released his hand from around your throat, cock still buried inside you. He hovered above you, giving you a disgusted look and you returned the same, kicking him at the hip and allowing his softening cock to slip out.

Nothing but uncomfortable silence filled the air as the two of you dressed, a bit of shame lingering and starting to build. You don't regret it, maybe a little for the fact that it was him, but you don't entirely.

Fastening your belt and fidgeting with your buttons on the white coat, you heard the click of a lighter and saw Braun lighting a cigarette, with his pants still undone but his dick put away. God did he really have no decency?

Noticing your staring, puffing out a plum of smoke, he smirks. "I've got someone coming by in a few minutes, no point in dressing all the way."

What a fucking whore.

"Gross." Gathering the papers you brought in from off the floor, with no help from the man still in his chair. Once it was all put back, you glared at him, snatching the cigarette from his lips and inhaling sharply, swallowing the smoke. He didn't say anything, simply took out another.

"I hope what we went over sticks, because if you fuck this up, it won't be Magath dishing out the punishment, so try not to drain yourself completely." Slamming his office door and marching down the hall, ashing the cigarette you stole while heading to your meeting with Magath.

[ghostedgwen]

Hey!! I really like your writing and I was just wondering if I could make a request. I was thinking about James X Black!Reader where she's Sirius' twin (or something like that), and it's a unrequired love since they're best friends. I'd really appreciate if you wrote it <3

shades of wrong | j.potter

note : Thank you so much for such kind words! The request was pretty vague so I took a lot of creative liberty with this one and ended up with almost 6k words of angst and pining. enjoyy <3

warnings : unrequitted pining, one-sided crushes, quidditch stuff, somewhat canon marauders timeline, mentions of abuse and torture, child abuse, the Black family are fucked uppp, siblings angst, hurt no comfort

James Potter has always been more than a best friend to you, he was always so bright and stirred feelings in your stomach that you dared not name but to him? You were always just Sirius' twin sister.

The platform is louder than you expected, all smoke and shouting and fluttering owls. Sirius walks just ahead of you, his trunk bumping into his knees as he barrels toward the scarlet train like it's an escape route.

"C'mon, ____!" he calls over his shoulder. "We don't want to end up stuck with the Lestranges."

You roll your eyes but follow, your own trunk rolling behind you. It feels like stepping into a storybook, the Hogwarts Express waiting there like it’s half-magic and half-dream. It is, kind of. You’ve been hearing about it your whole life.

Your older cousins were kind enough to share tales of their time at Hogwarts, but everything feels heavier now, knowing how your parents looked at you this morning. Like this was your last chance to make them proud.

You climb aboard after Sirius and just barely get through the crowd before he grabs your arm and yanks you into an open carriage.

Inside are three boys - one with messy dark hair and glasses, another round-faced and shy-looking, and a third with sandy hair - he would have been the most ordinary-looking one had it not been for his scars across his face.

They all look up at once. Sirius flops onto a seat like he owns the place. "You lot look like you’re not boring. I'm Sirius Black. This is my twin, ____."

You offer a small nod. The boy with glasses grins.

"James Potter. That’s Peter Pettigrew, and that’s Remus - he didn’t say his last name."

Potter. The name makes your ears perk up.

“It’s Lupin.” The scarred boy answered calmly.

The Potters are purebloods, technically, but your parents never speak of them without curled lips and disdain. Blood traitors and too friendly with Muggles. Too rich for their own good, thanks to some business success blahh blahh.

Still, you find yourself watching James Potter a little longer than is polite. There’s a brightness to him, even seated. He’s talking animatedly, hands moving as he retells something dramatic and probably exaggerated.

You sit beside Sirius. He elbows you subtly. "Stop staring."

You scowl, but your cheeks warm.

The Great Hall is overwhelming, and not just because of the enchanted ceiling. You stand beside Sirius, your fingers pinched in his sleeve, as the Sorting Hat sings its odd little song. He’s pretending not to care, but you can feel the tension in him.

You're both meant to go to Slytherin. It's been drilled into your heads since birth. The idea of sitting anywhere else feels almost dangerous, wrong.

Names are called. Students file forward. The hat shouts out houses. Then - "Black, Sirius!"

He stiffens beside you. You squeeze his arm before he strides forward, all swagger and sarcasm. He plops onto the stool and the hat barely touches his head before it cries:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Hall goes silent for half a breath. Sirius looks stunned, and his face contorted into an expression that you, even as his twin, couldn't read.

He storms to the Gryffindor table like it insulted him, and you know exactly what's racing through his head. You’re about to join him, though not on purpose.

"Black, ____!"

You move with shaky legs to sit on the stool. The hat is heavy on your head, almost like a crown with heavy responsibilities.

"Ah," it says in your ear, thoughtfully. "Another Black. Tricky, tricky. You’ve got fire, that’s clear. Slytherin’s a fit - but there’s something else in you, isn’t there? A spark of defiance. . . loyalty - hmm. Yes. Better be. . .GRYFFINDOR!"

Your stomach sinks. You can already hear your mother’s voice, the sneer in your father’s eyes. You join Sirius with stiff legs and sit beside him. Almost dropping your entire weight on the bench.

"We’re dead," he mutters.

"They’re going to disown us," you whisper.

Across the table, James Potter stares at you both with wide eyes. After he's gone through the sorting, ending up in the same house, he sits across you and Sirius.

Remus and Peter also got in the same house, what are the odds?

"You two looked like you were going to throw up when you sat down," he says, not unkindly. "Why’s Gryffindor so bad?"

You blink. "It’s not. It’s just. . ."

"Our family’s going to go ballistic," Sirius finishes for you.

James makes a face. "That’s mental. Gryffindor’s brilliant. My mum was one. Dad too."

You exchange a glance with Sirius. Of course. Of course the Potters were.

Still, James’s voice is warm and easy, like he doesn't understand why you'd be so scared, and maybe that's the part that sticks with you.

You don't want to be scared, either. Maybe, one day, you won’t be.

Until you earn the bold red robes, for now, you take the goblet in front of you with shaking hands and pretend it doesn’t matter but when you catch James Potter smiling at you between bites of treacle tart, it’s the first good thing that’s happened all day.

The second year begins with less dread and more mischief.

You and Sirius still get looks in the corridors, some of awe, some of judgment, but you’ve stopped caring. The Howlers your parents sent last year have long since stopped arriving. Well, they still try. 

It’s easier now. Hogwarts has become a home in ways Grimmauld Place never was. It smells like old wood and candles and the occasional pumpkin spice. People laugh here, there’s sunlight in the windows, and your twin has eased the tension in his shoulders.

You’ve found your people too.

James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew have fully adopted you and Sirius into their inner circle. They call themselves the Marauders now, Sirius came up with the name during a History of Magic class, and James nearly fell off his chair laughing.

You were of course included, Sirius even joked that you two were a package, and you were a very much needed addition.

"We need someone who’s small enough to climb through the hidden passage through Filch’s," James had reasoned.

"And smart enough to jinx the pathway shut behind us," Remus added.

You raised an eyebrow and folded your arms. "I’m flattered."

"She’s already ten times sneakier than you, Potter," Sirius had said proudly. "She lied to Mum for me last summer and didn’t blink once."

That had been the beginning.

Now, most evenings are spent plotting. In secret corners of the library. Underneath the stands at the Quidditch pitch. Crammed into your favourite empty classroom that smells like chalk and rebellion.

You’re always moving, always whispering, always laughing.

The pranks range from harmless to elaborate:

Enchanting toads to serenade Snape every time he walks into the dungeons.

Dosing the Slytherin common room door with stink sap and locking it magically shut.

Turning Peter’s homework into origami rats that chased him around the Great Hall.

You get caught, of course. Very often too that it was as if, you were letting them and for some reason, it’s always you and James who end up in the most trouble.

After one particular incident involving enchanted pudding that exploded in green clouds every time someone picked up a spoon, McGonagall personally handed you both matching detentions.

"I don’t even like pudding," you muttered as she led you down the corridor.

"But wasn’t it worth it?" James asked, his grin unapologetic. "Did you see Snivellus’s face? He looked like a swamp toad."

You tried to hold in your laugh and failed.

Detention turned out to be scrubbing trophy cases without magic. McGonagall gave you one look before leaving the two of you alone with buckets and rags.

James leaned on his mop like it was a cane. "You know, this is kind of romantic. Just you, me, and centuries of dusty cups."

You rolled your eyes. "You say that to all your detention partners?"

"Only the cute ones."

You threw your rag at him.

That became a pattern. Chaos, punishment, laughter. James Potter became your favourite person to get in trouble with.

It wasn’t just the trouble, though.

He listened when you talked, even when you didn’t realize you were saying something important. He challenged you to races on broomsticks. He defended you to older students who still scoffed at your last name. He made you laugh so hard you cried.

By the end of second year, something had shifted.

Not just in your friend group though that was true, too, but in you. Something settled in your chest like an ember waiting for a spark.

The four of you - James, Sirius, Remus, and you, had grown impossibly close. You knew how Peter fit into things, though he was quieter and less daring, often trailing after Sirius and James. But you were becoming a fixed part of the Marauders that blazed through the castle.

It happened slowly, in glances and secrets and sleepless nights.

You found out about Remus first.

Or rather, you pieced it together. The way he disappeared every month, the sick excuses, the cuts. The pale skin and darker eyes after he returned.

You and Sirius had snuck out to bring him soup from the kitchens once, and when you saw the claw marks on his arm as he slept, it all clicked.

"He’s a werewolf," you whispered to Sirius under the invisibility cloak.

Sirius didn’t argue. He just nodded, pale-faced and quiet. "We have to help him."

So you helped. The library became your haunt, not for classes, but for research. You dug through ancient transformation theories and forbidden transfiguration texts.

When Sirius brought the Animagus idea to James, he’d already practiced turning a matchstick into a bug thanks to your combined efforts.

You weren’t sure if you’d do it too. Becoming an Animagus was dangerous, but part of you wanted to, because Remus was your friend, and you weren’t going to let him feel alone.

But that plan would take time. Years. For now, you were just a group of misfits making big promises and risking detention to steal spellbooks.

Then came third year.

The Quidditch tryouts were announced a week into term, and Sirius couldn’t stop talking about it.

"We’re doing it," he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "All three of us. The Gryffindor dream team."

James beamed. "I’m going for Chaser."

"Beater," Sirius grinned. "Obviously."

They both looked at you. You raised a brow. "You want me on your team?"

"You’ve got the best reflexes out of all of us," James said easily. "You always catch my spells before they go off."

"And you’re mean when you block people," Sirius added. "Keeper suits you."

So you tried out, and you made the team.

The three of you spent the first month of the season in a blissful state of exhaustion. Practice before and after classes, bruises that turned green then gold with healing charms, and evenings spent sprawled across the Gryffindor common room floor with your limbs tangled together like dead spiders.

James was already obsessed. He lived and breathed broomsticks, muttered plays in his sleep, and spent hours drawing diagrams you barely understood.

You didn’t mind. It gave you more excuses to practice with him.

Some days, when everyone else was off doing homework or sleeping in, James would find you on the pitch, circling the hoops, challenging yourself to hold longer dives or sharper turns.

He always joined.

“Couldn’t let you get all the glory,” he joked once, landing beside you with a smile that made something flutter in your stomach.

It became a routine. You and James. Alone under grey skies or dusky sunsets. Sometimes, you raced.

Sometimes, you just tossed the Quaffle back and forth until your arms ached.

Sometimes, you talked about anything and about everything.

You learned that he hated liver, that his mum sang Muggle lullabies when he was sick, and that he wanted to play Quidditch Professionally one day.

He learned you used to steal books from your parents’ library to hide under your bed, that your biggest fear was being like your mother, and that Sirius once paid you in Chocolate Frogs to lie about him breaking your family’s expensive globe.

It was the little things, the quiet moments.

Until the day you fell - quite literally and figuratively.

It wasn’t dramatic. Your broom slipped in a sharp turn, and your hand missed the handle. One second you were in the air, the next your stomach dropped as you plummeted.

You had no time to scream. No time to think - then, arms.

James caught you mid-air, his broom wobbling under both your weights as he grunted and clutched you tight. "Got you," he breathed, eyes wide.

You stared at him, chest heaving.

His arms were around your waist. His face was inches from yours. His glasses were askew, his hair wind-tousled, and his heart was thudding against your ribs.

Your mouth went dry.

You’d seen James Potter a hundred times. In class, in the common room, in trouble, in laughter.

But now, he was something else. A blur of strength and concern and brightness that made your whole body light up. He grinned suddenly. "Falling for me already?"

You shoved him. Lightly. Weakly.

"Put me down, Potter."

"As you wish, m’lady."

He landed with a soft thud, letting you slide off his broom before hopping down beside you. Your cheeks were on fire.

You muttered something about your broom being old and faulty.

He didn’t tease you. Not like you expected. Instead, he reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear.

"You sure are handful, might need to drag you with me in the case you keep falling off brooms.."

Perhaps, that was when it started.

You’d looked at him, cheeks burning still from both the fear of falling and the catch. "You planning on getting old with me, Potter?"

He winked. "Depends. Are you inviting me?"

You had no answer for that, but the truth was, you kind of liked the idea.

By third year, your place at his side felt natural. Unshakeable.

And maybe, just maybe, that spark was starting to glow into something more.

But you weren’t ready to name it yet. Not when the trouble was so fun and the lines between friendship and something else were still blurred by laughter and daring.

Fourth year at Hogwarts started with Sirius Black falling in love (or so he says) at least five times before the first week ended.

You kept count, mostly to annoy him and to hold it over his head.

"That’s three today," you muttered as he flashed a grin at a Hufflepuff girl by the Great Hall.

Sirius shrugged. "I’m a generous soul. Why limit myself?"

You rolled your eyes. "You’re a menace."

He winked. "Takes one to know one, sister dearest."

You shoved his shoulder as you made your way to Charms, trying to ignore the gaggle of fourth-years giggling as Sirius passed.

Truthfully, his constant flirting didn’t bother you much,he was Sirius, after all. Reckless, charming, impossible. What did get under your skin was the way he’d toss his arm around your shoulder and say things like:

"You so much as look at a bloke and he’s getting hexed to the moon."

You scoffed. "You can flirt with the entire school, but I talk to one boy and you go full Black using unforgivables?"

Sirius looked smug. "Exactly."

You muttered something dark under your breath and kept walking. If he only knew.

Because, somewhere between third year Quidditch and late-night library sessions, your crush on James Potter had officially turned into something solid. Something spark-filled. Something that made your stomach do full somersaults every time he smiled at you.

And you were doing an excellent job hiding it. You thought.

Until Hogsmeade.

The first trip of the year landed on a crisp October weekend. You bundled into coats and scarves, excited to finally be allowed to go. The Marauders were beside themselves with plans, Zonko’s, Honeydukes, the Three Broomsticks.

By the time you reached the cobbled village streets, you were laughing so hard your sides hurt.

But somewhere between the sweetshop and the joke shop, the group split off.

Peter wandered off mumbling about sugar quills. Remus ducked into the bookstore. Sirius spotted someone and muttered, "Back in a tick," vanishing with a wink.

You and James stood awkwardly on the street corner.

He grinned. "Guess it’s just us."

Your heart leapt. "Looks like it."

He held out his arm dramatically. "May I escort you, Miss Black?"

You snorted. "You’re a twat."

"A twat with galleons. C’mon, I’ll buy you a drink."

You ended up wandering through the village together, trading insults and sweets, brushing shoulders a little more than necessary. He bought you a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks and a ridiculous quill shaped like a snitch from Scrivenshaft’s.

"You can use it to write all your love letters to me," he said.

"Oh, obviously. I’ll start with: ‘Dear James, stop buying me ugly quills.’"

"Rude. That’s top-quality craftsmanship."

You smiled until your face hurt.

At one point, walking back toward the castle in the late afternoon sun, your fingers brushed. You didn’t move away.

You got back to Gryffindor Tower with wind-chilled cheeks and a glowing chest. James had given you the quill with a goofy little bow and a low, “For you, my lady Keeper.”

You kept it tucked in your robe pocket the whole night.

You didn’t tell Sirius. Obviously. He would’ve had a heart attack, or worse, questions.

Instead, you lay in your bed that night, staring at the ceiling, twirling the quill between your fingers and smiling like a lunatic.

It wasn’t a date, not officially but it felt like one and that was enough to keep you floating for days.

"You’ve been weird lately," Sirius said two nights later, flopped upside down on the common room couch with his feet hanging over the back.

"Thanks, brother dearest."

"No, I mean - weird. Giggly, are you ill?"

You rolled your eyes. "Maybe I’m just happy."

"Gross."

"Maybe I met someone."

Sirius lifted his head, eyes narrowed. "If you did, I’m gonna need his name, wand make, and mother’s maiden name, patronus, boggart and quidditch opinions."

You laughed. You couldn’t help it.

Because you’d definitely met someone.

And you’d known him for years.

But you weren’t ready to admit it yet. Not to Sirius, not even to yourself.

Not when James Potter still looked at you like a best friend with a shared broomstick obsession and a knack for blowing up cauldrons.

Still, as you curled up that night, James’ laughter echoing in your ears, you let yourself believe, just a little, that maybe, one day, it could be something more.

Fifth year at Hogwarts exploded with noise, cheers, and scarlet streamers. Gryffindor had just demolished Slytherin in the first Quidditch match of the season, and the common room was practically vibrating with celebration.

You were still flushed from the adrenaline of the game, saves echoing in your ears, hands still tingling from the last block that sealed the win before your seeker caught the snitch.

James caught your eye across the room. He grinned that ridiculous grin, the one that started behind his eyes and tugged crookedly at his mouth.

“Oi, Keeper Extraordinaire,” he said, plopping beside you on the couch.

“You mean, Gryffindor’s Great Wall?” you teased.

He laughed, eyes bright behind his glasses. “You were brilliant today. Seriously. That dive at the last minute?”

You shrugged, trying to downplay it, but your cheeks were already warm. “All in a day’s work.”

He nudged your knee with his. “Don’t get modest on me now.”

The party swirled around you, music, firewhiskey smuggled in from somewhere, first years dancing awkwardly near the fireplace but it all blurred a little when James looked at you like that.

Like he was seeing you. Not Sirius’ sister. Just you.

Your eyes dipped to his lips before you could stop yourself and he noticed.

For a breath, the world stilled. Like the chaos ensuing around wasn't even happening. Then - “WHOOOOO!”

A body crashed between you and James, knocking you sideways into the armrest. Sirius, pissed as a skunk. Absolutely smashed, by the looks of him.

“Look at my baby sister,” he slurred, throwing an arm around your shoulders and nearly knocking your butterbeer over. “Flying like a bloody comet out there, almost makes me proud.”

You groaned. “Sirius, get off.”

He squinted at James, then turned to you. “Heard some Hufflepuff twats talking about you. Guess you’re grown now that you’ve got boys being gits over you.”

James coughed, very pointedly looking anywhere else. 

You shoved Sirius back, face burning. “Don’t start you tosser.”

He raised a wobbly finger. “You’re not allowed to date. Not ‘til I marry. That’s the rule.”

You glared. “Then I’ll be sixty, you wanker.”

Remus arrived, looking apologetic and mildly exasperated. “He nicked half a bottle of Firewhiskey and I couldn’t stop him.”

You sighed and motioned for him to help haul Sirius upright.

“Come on, Loverboy,” you muttered. “Off the couch.”

But the moment between you and James had passed. The spark snuffed out by the dramatic, drunken wall that was your brother. You were intending to go back to the party to rejoin him maybe and rekindle the blown out flame when you spotted him grinning widely at Lily Evans through his goblet.

You ended up turning around and retreating to your dorm room.

Later that week, things turned quieter. Quieter between you and James. More cautious. But something shifted elsewhere.

You, Sirius, James, and Peter had been circling an idea since early spring of second year, an idea sparked when you, together, learned the truth about Remus’ monthly disappearances.

It had taken time. Remus never meant to tell you, he was terrified but secrets don’t last long among the Marauders.

Which is how the Animagus plan was born.

You’d thrown yourself into the research with Sirius back in second year, both of you locked away in the library for hours at a time, even stealing books from Grimmauld Place. James helped too, of course, but he wasn’t as obsessed. You and Sirius shared something about it, twins born into a house of monsters, doing something good for once.

You kept saying, “If Remus has to do this, he shouldn’t be alone.”

James agreed of course and Peter did not need much convincing. He was more than happy to offer all the help he could, that was - if he wasn’t too occupied by Quidditch. You could swear he breathed it.

Nothing similar to the Quidditch win party happened between you ever again. He was back to treating you like the usual. His best friend and also the sister of his other best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

It stung, but you bite down the bitter feelings knowing you had no right to be so upset such trivial matters of a crush on your brother’s best friend - such a cliché, really. You suppose it was almost a big bow to wrap this entire joke.

Black twins get sorted into the worst house possible, and you get a crush on the bloodtraitor heir your parents always berated you for befriending, how absolutely marvellous!

The transformations took years to master, of course. But by fifth year’s end, it was done.You four, against all odds and limitations of barely being of-age students of magic managed to actually perform such a difficult feat.

James: a magnificent stag.

Sirius: a proud black dog.

You: a sleeker black dog, with a white patch over your eye.

Peter : a rat.

“Twins ‘til the end,” Sirius had said when you both transformed for the first time, panting and wagging your tails beside each other.

Even James couldn’t tell you apart at first, your spot barely seen when running or in the dark. You all started sneaking out once a month. Joining Remus in the forest, running together like his little mismatched pack.

It wasn’t perfect, sometimes it was terrifying, but it was also loyalty, love, and friendship.

Something your family never taught you. The Marauders did.

Fifth year ended in a fire.

Not literal fire, though Sirius once joked that if he’d had a wand in his hand that night, he might’ve lit the bloody curtains ablaze himself.

No, it was worse than that. It was screaming, slamming doors, bruises in places your mother would never see.

And Sirius, curled up on the floor of your bedroom, shaking so hard you thought he might break apart. They proposed a marriage to him, one with a second cousin - not too close that you knew them well but also close enough to keep the toujour pur shit.

So crucio assaulted him over and over again, wracking his body until he couldn’t take it anymore and you jumped in. Taking some of the hits and it didn’t take long for them to finally stop.

They eventually got tired and let you both go. With Regulus’ help, you managed to haul Sirius into your room where you stood guard to keep him safe, or as safe as you could. He didn’t speak, he couldn't afford it that night, not with everything he endured. He just laid there, hollow-eyed and silent, and you sat next to him with your back to the door, wand in hand, daring anyone to come in.

They didn’t, much to your relief. They were off, and Regulus did not check in once. You knew he wanted to, knew he was badly worried but you made him promised not to come again, in the case they come back to finish Sirius off.

You wanted to keep your baby brother away from it.

The next morning, before the sun rose, you packed a bag.

“Get up,” you whispered. “We’re leaving.”

Sirius didn’t argue. You assist him, holding his weakened body up and he clung to you like you were his lifeline. Ignoring your own injuries, you held him.

The Potters’ doorstep glowed like salvation, when you reached there it felt like all the weight came off you. You could almost smell the familiar broom polish and peppermint tea. Many times you’ve been, but never like this.

You dread the whole thing, how you turned to this after everything that has happened. It was really unfortunate, the many memories that were all fun and good and bright, but now every step you took felt like a stain on all those memories.

Every pained step approaching the Potter manor’s entryway is an ink dropped on the beautiful photograph of your youth. You can’t undo it, hard as you try.

You prop Sirius on your side, holding him up better and raised your hand to ring the bell, every second spent waiting for the door to swing open is like a second spent under the crucio spell. You shut your eyes, willing your breath to even out.

James opened the door in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes - and then froze when he saw you both. You failed keeping your breath even, you choked before you could let the words out. You had to swallow thickly.

You weren’t sure what you looked like, but it must’ve been bad. Your hair was tangled, your brother’s face was bruised, and your hands were shaking.

“Please,” you said.

He pulled you inside without hesitation. He hadn’t fully registered your appearance, how Sirius was almost lifeless clinging off your shoulder and how broken you both looked. He hauled you in like it could undo everything.

You only meant to stay the night after dropping Sirius off.

Sirius needed somewhere safe, and you knew Euphemia and Fleamont Potter would never turn him away. You told yourself you’d drop him off, make sure he had food, and then leave. Return home, face your parents and go back to Regulus.

You were already reaching for your bag again when James stopped you, blocking you from getting through the door.

“You’re not going back,” he said.

“I have to,” you insisted. “They’ll - ”

“Hurt you,” James finished. “Just like they did him.”

You blinked. “It’s different.”

“Is it?”

You didn’t have an answer, he walked over to tug your sleeves, and it showed what he had speculated. Bruises littered your arms, similar to Sirius. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

You shake your head, tugging your arm back. "It's not that bad. Sirius, he - he took most of the hits, for me."

You choke on your sobs then. "My brothers always do, they try their best to protect me. I can't just leave Regulus back there, Sirius has you here, but Reggie - he won't have anyone."

James stepped closer, voice soft. “At least talk to Sirius about it first.”

You looked at Sirius. He was curled up on the couch, fast asleep under a blanket Mrs. Potter had tucked around him. For the first time in years, his face wasn’t clenched in sleep.

You looked away, swallowing thickly. Knowing damn well the moment you look at James, your resolve would melt like butter with a hot knife. So you tugged your arm free of his hold and shook your head.

“Let me go or I will hate you for the rest of my life,” you threatened him and the seconds he took to answer scared you. He would be willing to be hated if you managed to stay safe with him, at least.

He’s too good. Perhaps that was why, why you managed to fall despite yourself. Why his smile made your stomach do flips when he was supposed to be a brother to you as well, Merlin knows Sirius saw him as one - but you saw differently.

He was never James, Sirius’s friend. He was always just James. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked, unsure.

“I’m sure,” you adjust the bag and give him a small smile without meeting his eyes. You stopped right at his nose. “Bye, James.”

You didn’t wait for him to return it, he didn’t want to. You just got out of the house without bidding the Potters and your brother goodbye, to walk back into the hell you were bred into to suffer more under the hands of people who should have cared the most for you.

Sixth-year was absolutely weird. The world has shifted so much then. Sirius left, you helped him escape and yet you crawled back into the snake’s den to stay. Sirius understood why you did it, without having to ask James, he knew why you returned.

He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt, because it hurt like hell. You were practically another half of him, he wasn’t whole without you but reality has set in and the truth is that only one of you can truly escape the home that shackled you all down.

And if anyone were to ever get out, it’d be Sirius.

You boarded the train with Regulus, he asked you not to leave him. So you obliged and occupied a compartment with Pandora who you had no solid opinion of, you barely talked and she didn’t seem to be a bad influence on your brother.

You just looked out into the blur of countryside out the window while they chatted about things only they understood. That was until, you had to use the bathroom and leave briefly. You muttered an excuse you barely remembered giving then exited into the train hallway where you saw James right away.

You give him a small smile. You can read the worry in his face, all the questions he was about to shout out so you went ahead and answered him, guessing that he was struggling what to ask first.

“I’m fine, despite everything,” you managed a low chuckle. “How’s Sirius?”

James seemed to collect himself then. “He’s. . .coping. Did they - “

You cut him off. The truth will just hurt the both of you, because of course they did. Your twin brother escaped from his abusive home and you helped him, they knew that much was true because they hurt Sirius so bad it would have been impossible for him to crawl out alone.

So they hurt you as well, over and over until the lines blurred between being awake and in pain, and being out of it. Regulus had to nurse you back to health with Kreacher, which was quite a feat. You could swear you have never seen Regulus cry until that night he thought you’d died.

He was always so strong, so good despite how he carries himself and he loved you and your twin so much beyond words could possibly express. He was just a kid, you know that.

And you were all he has left. So you cut James off - “That’s good to know. Didn’t give Effie and Monty much trouble, did he?”

James was stunned but managed to respond, “No, he’s been. . .he’s fine. Hey - “ As if on cue, Sirius appeared behind him. He was smiling at James and about to go off about some dungbombs he set off until his eyes saw you.

You give him a weak smile. “Good summer?”

He didn’t find humor in it. He strode past James and rushed to hug you, a sound that was almost a huff leaving you as you returned the hug. You could tell he was trying not to cry as he hugged you so tightly.

Life at Hogwarts was almost the same then. Only, you spent more time with Regulus than you did previously, he had been quite clingy ever since that night he cried and he made his dislike for James very obvious.

To the point he would be scowling if he was around, completely oblivious to the way your heart did cartwheels at the very sight of James Potter. He’d often approach, always as a friend and with friendly gestures.

It always disappointed you.

He once put your hand in his pocket on a walk back from the library because it was cold. "Warming charm’s a bust," he said, grinning. "You're handier."

You knew better than to read into it, you always knew better.

Because he never said anything. Never did anything. Not anything that could blur the lines between ‘friends’ and ‘something more’ at least, and James Potter was nothing if not direct when he wanted something.

So you told yourself it was platonic. He was like this with people he cared about - warm and golden and effortless. You just happened to be orbiting close enough to feel it.

You were still telling yourself that when Hogsmeade weekend rolled around.

You weren’t even planning to go, not really with everything that had gone on during the summer. You doubted a butterbeer could make any difference, not when everything has changed. But you'd thought maybe you’d run into him, get Honeydukes together or sit by the Three Broomsticks fire. Nothing fancy, just the kind of day friends have.

Except you saw him by the gates, laughing with a Ravenclaw girl you barely knew the name of. Her scarf was wrapped loosely around her neck, her mittened hands swinging too close to his. He leaned down to say something and she laughed.

You stood there longer than you should have, like an idiot.

He didn’t even see you.

That’s when it hit you. Not like a slap. Slaps are quick and clean. This felt more like ice water dumped on you, shocking, all-encompassing. She was real and she was with him - and you - you were a friend. Just a friend.

That’s all you’d ever been.

And maybe, if you were being honest, all he’d ever meant you to be.

You turned around and walked back up the path, third step and all, and you didn’t even flinch when it creaked. Just like how you remained stuck in the darkness of Grimmauld Place, you remained in the shadow where James Potter couldn’t truly see you.

end. masterlist

[missmanlykink]

his work crush | aaron hotchner ✿

MDNI - 18+ | navigation - m.list 𝜗୧ | REQUEST OPEN !

summary: aaron hotchner as a “little” crush on you, and his feelings for you being against the rules doesn’t hold him back…

paring: boss!hotch x bau!fem!reader

wc: 1.2k

warnings: smutty, fluffy, age gap, inappropriate work relationship, secret relationship, semi-public sex, kissing, aaron hotchner is in love, lowercase intended

a/n: i’ve had this thought for along time and i NEEDED to officially write it down bc this shit is literally my dream life. and for all the people waiting. the shane fic is almost done ;)

NSFW UNDER CUT - MINORS DNI </3

you were hotch’s work crush, a crush he could never act on because you both could get in a lot of trouble. but this crush got so much worse than he wanted.

he ended find ways to show his feelings for you. if started off by surprising you with coffee. remembering how you loved it by detail, slipping it into your hand before you could even say thank you. and sometimes he would get your favorite cookie to pair with the drink, you asked him “how did you know this was my favorite?” he shrugged it off, saying that he overheard you talking to gracia. and he did, but he failed to metiom that he made sure to write it down so he wouldn’t forget, so he could see your face light up when he put the treat in your hand

he loved to compliment you on little things. the details that might be missed by someone else, but he always noticed. you had dyed your curls a lighter color out of boredom. and it wasn’t a new color. it was just a little different from the day before.

you both got into work at the same time, together in the elevator, no one else around. “did you dye your hand?” he asked, eyes scanning the slight difference of the color in your hair. your eyes widen a little from the shock of him realizing. “yes i did, i did think you’d notice,” he shrugged again.

he did it whenever you could catch him paying attention to you and your habits. “yeah, it looks nice.” he smiled softly, as he walked out the elevator.

even though you both thought everyone had no clue about you guys, they could obviously feel the tension between you both. if the team was too nervous to ask hotch something, they’d force you to ask him instead, because they knew he’d usually say yes to you. he had a sweet spot for you that was very apparent, his gaze softening whenever he would look in your direction.

whenever it was time for the team to get on the jet to work on a case, he ended up always taking a seat next to you. and obviously you're not stupid. you caught on to the treats and how he would look at you. but this wasn’t a bad situation for you at all, you’ve always had a little thing for him. he’s a strong, caring and very attractive older man.

how could you not. this mutual interest in each other turned into a long game of lingering glances, and “accidental” touches. his hand grazing yours as you handed him a set of files was enough to shock some type of electricity in you both.

the gift giving became more elaborate. he would make sure you’d stay in at work after everyone else went home. so it was just you two in the office. he asked you to step into his office before you went home and that’s what you did. behold a designer box of shoes sitting on his desk.

you gasp quietly when you see it. he picks up the box and places it in your hand. “hotch- i can’t take these..” you murmured. trying yout best to regret the gift without being rude. you wanted the shoes badly, as well as him. but the judgement and career death flashed before your eyes. if anyone found out, you would be labeled a slut, and the agent that slept her way to the top.

“youre not taking them. i’m giving to you” he began, “i saw them at the store and they made me think of you.” he admits, but that was a lie. what random store is he picking up designer pumps from. he purposely found shoes he thought you'd like so he could give them to you. you knew he was lying, but it was extremely flattering and it made you crave him even more. and somehow he got your shoe size right.

you loved the moment when your two were alone, were it’s a late night in the office or you two were the last jet, he would call you by your first name. the first time you heard your name fall from your lips you froze. from all the time you’ve been working together, it’s been kept professional. last names only and that’s how everyone referred to each other. but him using

your first name felt personal and intimate. but he couldn’t do it in front of the others. it was already hard enough hiding this from a group of profilers. this was only for you and aaron.

one day you both took it to the next level, he asked you to after work again, you always looked forward to these little moments. but something different happened this time. you walked into his office, the blinds were closed and he was getting his stuff ready to go home, well you thought he was. his eyes immediately shot up when he felt your presence flooded the room. “hi, aaron, you called?” you murmured, slowly walking towards him. “oh, yes i did. take a seat over there, please,” he requested, while picking up a small slim box off of his desk. he took a seat right next to you, and sat the box in your hands.

“what is this?” you ask, “if you open it you’ll see,” he smiles softly, urging you to look inside. he didn’t need to tell you twice. you took the velvety lid off of the box and the most beautiful necklace sat inside, waiting for you to try it on. you’re absolutely baffled, you began to mutter out “you didn’t-“ but he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. “i did, try it on..” you smile at him and turn your back to him, lifting your hair up so he can put the necklace on you. after he did, you turned around to face him again, but now wearing his beautiful gift. “it looks beautiful on you..” he purred, gazing sweetly into your eyes. you were about to say thank you, he cut you off again. but not with words. with a desperate and passionate kiss.

a kiss that held the tension from the longing looks, and motive behind the gifts. teeth clashing together as your swallow each other whole. you both knew that everything that your were doing was completely against the rules, but it felt so good. having his hand wrap around your body as he pulled you closer into him. that singular kiss broke down the walls of what you two were holding back. now, whenever you would go into his office when you two were alone.

you found yourself slowly rolling your hip against his, grasping on to each other like your life depended on it. it was very risky, but that’s what made it better. when he made love to you on the couch in his office, you could feel the yearning radiating off of his skin. his soft whimpers pouring into your ear as you felt him shifting inside of you.

he thought it was just a little crush, that it would pass lile all the other silly crushes he’s had in his life. but it was more than that. he felt him falling in love with you. with everything little thing you did.

dividers: @enchanthings-a % @cg1rl do not copy my work for anything without my permission.

[ikktygcto]

— 방찬 “ACCIDENTAL”

𝒷oyfriend.ᐟbangchan × 𝒻 em.ᐟreader

hi! i just wanted to say thank you so much for all the support in my first novel, you guys got me to over 600 notes and 25 followers in a few days! i thought that over 100 notes was unreachable, but you guys really proved me wrong. i love you guys! also, sorry if this flopped, feel free to dm me with feedback! i made this really late so it may not be my best!

𝒽appy reading !

bangchan always took his laptop to practice, but today he decided to go without it, reasoning that he wouldn't need it during his session.

while he was at dance practice, you were home, working on your laptop for your job. suddenly, your laptop turned off, and you couldn’t find the charger. needing to continue your work, you decided to use his laptop instead.

after finishing your work, you went to the home screen to delete your files since you had already transferred them to your laptop. unfortunately, you mistakenly deleted all his files for his comeback. you froze, realizing what a big mistake you had made.

later that day, bangchan came home, and you acted as if nothing had happened. after his shower, he went to his laptop to finish his work but couldn’t find any of his files. he started freaking out.

“y/n?”

he called your name from the bedroom, but you didn't answer and he walked to you in the kitchen.

“were you on my laptop?”

he asked, trying to contain his anger. he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, looking visibly upset as he waited for your response.

you tilted your head and made the most confused face that you could make. you replied, trying to act oblivious,

“what? no.”

but bangchan wasn’t stupid. you both knew that. well, in some fields he wasn’t stupid.

“no?”

he repeated skeptically. he raised an eyebrow, not believing you for a second.

“then why are all my files for my comeback gone?”

he tried to stay calm, but the irritation in his voice was clear.

you sighed, trying to think of an excuse.

“maybe they’re hiding.”

really? hiding? that was your excuse? you couldn’t even stop the words from flowing from your mouth ; it was like it was just on autopilot, saying whatever it felt like.

bangchan let out a scoff, clearly not convinced.

“hiding? seriously, y/n? all my files don’t just disappear like that.”

he took a step closer, his expression hardening as he locked eyes with you. he then shook his head in disbelief, his irritation beginning to boil over.

“i know you were on my laptop, and you clearly did something because those files were there this morning.”

he paused for a moment, his jaw tensing as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“tell me the truth, y/n. did you delete my files?”

he continued to stare daggers into you, his eyes narrowing as he waited for you to respond. his patience was wearing thin, and he could feel the anger building inside of him.

“yes..”

you whispered, feeling very embarrassed now that you were caught red-handed,

“but not on purpose.”

you added quickly for reassurance, as if that would make things any better.

bangchan clenched his jaw, the revelation only adding fuel to his anger.

“not on purpose? you accidentally deleted all my files for my comeback? really?”

he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. all the work and effort he put into the comeback was gone because of your mistake.

you nodded shyly. it was then that you felt bangchan’s wrath choking you. your throat became tighter and your eyes had that feeling again. your breath quickened and your hands started to tremble.

he let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“i can’t believe this. do you have any idea how much work i put into those files? the hours i spent writing, producing, and perfecting them?”

he clenched his fists, trying to restrain the urge to shout at you.

you fiddled with your fingers and stammered,

“i.. i’m sorry.”

he shook his head, his irritation showing through.

“‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it, y/n. those files were vital to my comeback. now i have to start from scratch. do you have any clue how much this setback will affect me?”

he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. but the anger was still evident in his voice.

you let a sniffle rip the awkward silence in the room. and another one. led by god knows how many sniffles.

bangchan obviously heard your sniffles, and his expression softened just a bit. but he was still too angry to fully let go of his irritation.

“are you seriously crying now? why should i feel sorry for you when you’re the one who deleted my files?”

now you felt even shittier. instead of comforting you, bangchan was actually berating you. that was a first. you whispered,

“i’m sorry chan..”

his expression softened slightly at your apology, but he was still clearly upset.

“i appreciate the apology, y/n, but that doesn’t fix the problem. those files were important to me, and now they’re gone because of your mistake.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“i’ve been working on that comeback for months, pouring my heart and soul into it. and now, all that effort is down the drain because of what you did.”

he took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours.

“do you have any idea how much you’ve set me back with your mistake? i don’t know if i’ll be able to finish the comeback on time now.”

“but i didn’t mean to!”

you argued back, a broken sob escaping your throat. your vision was blurred by the waterfall of tears tumbling down your rosy cheeks, and your philtrum wet and glossy with your snot.

as your sobs filled the room, his expression softened even more. he hated seeing you cry, but he was still deeply hurt by what happened.

he took a step closer, his angry demeanor fading away.

“y/n..”

he said mellowly, his tone much gentler than before.

“i know you didn’t mean to, but it doesn’t change the fact that you accidentally deleted all of my files. do you realize how important they were to me?”

full of regret and guilt, you nodded. you felt even worse now. what could you do now that would be even worse for bangchan?

he sighed again, his heart feeling a mix of anger and sympathy.

“then why weren’t you more careful?” he asked. “why didn’t you double-check before deleting them? those files meant everything to me, y/n. they were my life’s work.”

he paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. the anger was still there, but it was overshadowed by a sense of hurt and disappointment.

but you stayed silent.

“i trusted you, y/n. i trusted you with my laptop and you… you deleted my files. it feels like a betrayal.”

“but it was accidental..!”

you protested, your hands trembling harder than they ever have before. your eyes were puffy, and your nose was getting sore from the snot and the cold air mixing together.

he clenched his jaw again, trying to keep his anger in check.

“yes, it was accidental. i get that. but that doesn’t erase the fact that those files are gone because of you. it doesn’t change the fact that my comeback is now in jeopardy because of your mistake.”

but bangchan knew that he just couldn’t stay mad at you for much longer, especially not when he could see how much you were hurting from the situation. he sighed heavily ; he wanted to be angry, but seeing you cry made his heart ache. he then stepped forward, his expression softening even more.

“stop crying, please.”

he hated seeing you cry, especially when it was his own anger that was causing it. he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“i’m so sorry..”

you trembled. you were so scared to disappoint someone - anyone, even a stranger.

bangchan gently placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

“i know you’re sorry, y/n,”

his voice was softer now, the anger starting to fade away,

“i’m just.. i’m just angry right now. those files meant so much to me.”

he pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly. he couldn't stay angry with you. even though he was hurt and frustrated, he cared about you. and he knew that your intentions weren't malicious. he rested his chin on top of your head, sighing heavily yet again.

“i forgive you.”

he whispered, while rubbing your back with his large, veiny hands.

you looked up at him, smiled and wiped your tears, you exclaimed, your small arms wrapping around his large torso,

“really?”

“yes, really. i know you didn’t mean to do it. i’m just.. i’m just hurt. those files meant a lot to me, y/n.”

he nodded, his gaze softening as he held you against him. he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening slightly.

“but i could never stay mad at you.”

you sighed and smiled peacefully. so everything was back to normal. well, all except bangchan’s lost files. that was when you got an idea.

“i could help you make your songs again!”

he pulled back from the hug, looking at you with a small smile.

“you.. you want to help me make them again?”

he sounded surprised, but also a bit hesitant.

“are you sure you want to do that? it's gonna take a lot of time and effort.”

you didn’t care. it would be nice bonding time, plus you got to help your boyfriend with his work. it was a win win. you nodded and grinned,

“yeah, why not?”

he smiled, his heart warming at your willingness to help.

“okay then.”

he said softly, his expression softening even more. he then patted your head gently, his touch gentle and tender.

“thank you, y/n. i really appreciate your help.”

he led you into the studio, his hands shaking a little in excitement as he turns on the lights.

the studio was a large, open space with high ceilings. the walls were painted white, and there were large windows that let in natural light. in the center of the room was a large desk with a computer and some music equipment. there were also some chairs, couches and bean bags scattered around. the room had a warm and cozy atmosphere, and it was clear that a lot of time and effort had been put into making it a comfortable workspace.

he sat down at his work desk and gestures for you to sit next to him.

“okay, let’s get to work.”

he said with a determined expression.

instead of sitting next to him, you decided to sit on him : right on his lap. it was the comfiest after all.

he chuckled softly as you sat on his lap, his heart fluttering with affection. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“comfy?”

he asked, his voice playfully teasing.

you smiled and nodded. you were ready to work. to be honest, you have always dreamed of seeing bangchan’s studio. and now you got to help him work in it. while sitting on his lap. you could get used to this luxury.

he smiled, his fingers gently stroking your hair. he loved having you close like this, it made him feel more relaxed.

“good.”

he said softly.

“now let’s start working on those files.”

he smiled as he started explaining the different elements of his workspace to you. he pointed out his soundboard, his microphone, and his various instruments lined up against the wall.

he was patient and thorough as he explained how everything worked, answering any questions you had with a gentle smile. he loved that you were taking the time to learn about his passion.

he sat back for a minute as you looked around the studio, examining the different equipment. he watched you with a soft gaze, admiring your curiosity.

“it’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

he said, his voice dripping with fondness.

“so cool,”

you replied, your mouth agape in awe.

bangchan grinned, his chest puffing up with pride.

“i knew you’d like it.”

he grinned, his fingers drumming against the desk.

curiously, you started to make your own beats and rhythms using bangchan's expertise. after learning everything you had to learn, he set you off to play around on his laptop and music things.

he chuckled softly as you started to type and click and discover all sorts of new things. he couldn’t help but find it adorable how into it you were.

he gave you instructions on what to do, and you followed them diligently. he watched over you, his gaze steady and focused, but also filled with affection.

he couldn’t help but feel grateful for your help, even though you were simply doing the typing and clicking. to him, it was more than thahe chuckled softly as you started to type and click on the computer. he couldn’t help but find it adorable how into it you were.

he gave you instructions on what to do, and you followed them diligently. he watched over you, his gaze steady and focused, but also filled with affection.

after a while, you started to doze off, your hard work hitting back at you. you started to type and click slower, and your eyes drooped down.. and down.. and down until they were shut.

bangchan noticed you dozing off on his lap, and a smile crept across his face.

he carefully shifted your head so it was resting comfortably on his thigh, making sure not to wake you.

he couldn’t help but feel a wave of affection wash over him as he looked down at you, asleep in his lap while he worked.

he continued to work, his fingers moving deftly across the keyboard, but his gaze kept flickering to you every now and then.

you snored quietly while hugging onto his strong arm, dreaming of how the fans would react to you helping your boyfriend produce music.

bangchan paused every so often, his attention divided between his work and your sleeping form. he couldn’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness towards you, as well as a deep fondness.

he gently ran his fingers through your hair, his touch tender and gentle, taking a moment to appreciate the peacefulness of the moment. he gently kissed your head and whispered,

“sleep well, my dear.”

[eveningepiphany]

need | h.s oneshot

summary: the two elite enemies of St Jacklyn college finally cave against the mass amounts of sexual tension they’ve shared… at a campus sleepover of all things.

warnings: SMUT, hot and heavy, enemies with impulsive benefits, dirty talk, fingering (fem rec), piv sex, classic supply closet sex!!

a/n: after being gone for a little while (basically M.I.A let’s be fr) I wanted to post a little smutshot🤍

———

At college, things happen, and they happen fast.

One minute you’ll be doing homework, and the next you’ll be at a party after a spontaneous invite.

Or you’ll plan for a night with friends but find yourself hooking up with a campus stranger.

It’s the way of life, you’re either going from one extreme to the other, or you’re not really in college.

And that’s exactly what’s currently about to happen to you again. It’s about to be zero to a hundred with you and one of the worst people to walk St Jacklyn halls.

It had started out as you both being out on a walk for fresh air, somehow at the same time. Which turned into a run in as it always does with the two of you— Harry Styles, the colleges token ‘golden’ boy immediately tutting out, “well well, look who else has snuck out for a walk around the halls.”

“How unfortunate our walks have coincided.” You had drawled at him, shaking your head as your feet clacked against the smooth stone flooring.

He had morphed a solo stroll into a joint one, because now he trailed by your side as you wandered the schools dim corridors, “don’t sound so upset, I know y’truly excited by the prospect.”

“Harry, can you fuck off?” Originally, this walk was purposed to clear your muddled head.

One of your ex-friends, Belle, had come up to you in the library— which was turned into a sleeping quarters— with a snide expression written all over her face. She was imploring that in around 2 hours, you check the St Jacklyn gossip page.

It sounds fickle, because it is fickle. The site is dedicated to the drama that goes on at the huge school. And you had been on the front page more than you would’ve liked lately, especially after your fall out with Belle.

“Why would I want to do that…? Plus, I’ve heard word that a story is bubbling about you.” He supplies, and your gaze slants over to him.

His long untamed hair is set free over his shoulders, and his green eyes were already trained on yours.

A sigh breaches through your mouth, the news coming from him is as unfortunate as being murdered before a month long holiday in the tropics. Because if he knows about it, then it just means Belle is telling everyone.

“Do you happen to know what it’s about too?” You ask, half prepared for him to avoid the question.

Which good thing you were expecting it, because that’s just what he did, “She’s being rather venomous. I really didn’t think she’d find footing after what she did to you. Shes much like…” he pauses in thought, brows furrowed as he files through his mind, “like a pest you can’t quite catch.”

“A pest.” You repeat in agreement, the first time you’ve ever sided with him on a statement, despite it being a backhanded dig at the fact you can’t seem to sort it out once and for all.

“Indeed, dove. And from what i know, the news that’s going up is nothing good.” He smirks, hands coming to clasp behind his back.

“Ah, bad news about me on St Jacklyns gossip page. Something you would know nothing about, of course.” You sneer at him, a reminder that you have neither forgiven or forgotten.

“All is fair in love and war, darling.” He justifies with a shrug, “you can’t claim to be a saint either.”

“Never did.” A scoff pasted your lips, “however you cant claim you didn’t start it.”

He overlaps you with his steps, now walking backwards in front of you, his eyes trailing up and down your body, “Just as bitter as ever…”

“Of course I’m bitter.” You spat out, flaring your hands out in quickly bubbling anger.

“You’re acting as if you weren’t the one to tell the blog I was sleeping with Sherman! Which was a fucking lie!”

“And like you didn’t egg my house after it.” He fires back.

“You stole my cat and dyed him green.”

“Well, y’shouldnt let your cat outside.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“And you know what, Y/N, I think you are too.” He smiles, as though he’s proud of you.

“God.” You frustratedly huff out, stopping all together.

He smirks, coming to a halt as well, “Not my name, but I can appreciate the confusion.”

He steps forward into your space, lips curling upward, something mischievous sparkling in his green gaze.

“You are unbelievable.” You shake your head, face contorting with disgust. Trying to ignore his muscles that are popping as he crosses hims arms over his chest.

“Oh, but I have a feeling you love it.” He coos.

“I hate you, Harry.” You grit out, mimicking his stance— turning the sight of the two of you into the likes of a stand off.

“Mmm, you do?” A low hum comes from his throat, licking his lips as he looks at you.

“Harder than you’d ever be able to fathom.” You almost stutter out, mind fumbling as you’re sure he is mapping out some kind of move he’s about to make on you.

Things around here imitate a game of chess, every play as calculated as the next.

He is smiling at your constant digs of his character. You’re so this, you’re so that, you’d kept saying to him. Finding the most offensive describing words you could.

“So unbelievable that if I kissed you right now, you’d be shocked?”

You scowl at him, “not that I think you’d have the balls, but yes, I likely would be.”

“Is that a challenge?” He further perks up at your quip.

You have doubts he’d ever follow through, because you nod, with a cock of your brow. And oh how you were wrong about that. You should’ve known with the way he was eyeing you off like a meal.

He leans forward into your space, fast like the wind, yet his kiss like a breeze. Quick and gentle, and his point proven with a smug smirk being felt against your mouth hardly a second before he pulls away.

You— however shocked and slightly appalled that the enemies mouth just touched yours— are frozen to the spot.

He soaks in the look of surprise on your features, and a part of him tingles with the thrill of kissing someone who he knows could try and ruin his life. Just as you had countless times before.

An adrenaline rush spiked in him, along with something else, something stronger that he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Want your own challenge?” he suggests, derailing from his original plan. He doesn’t wait for an indication of an answer from yourself.

“You wouldn’t dare admit that you enjoyed that.” He muses.

“I didn’t.” You try to force confidence in your voice, certainty. But you’re only sounding defensive, just like a liar.

His words kick you into gear, and you shove his shoulder with the flat of your hand— yet it hardly budges his firm figure in the dim hallway.

“Should we try again?” The direction of the wind had changed, clearly. His voice a low constant hum, leaning forward again, hands brushing gingerly against your waist.

You swear the warm lights upon the walls flicker as though they were a flame being licked by the shift in the air around you.

“No.” You scoff, hands grabbing his wrists where they hung loosely on your hipbone— you’re tempted by his scent, but cautious of his habitual lying.

A wrong move and he will use it against you.

“And why not?” He says, and you choose your next words carefully.

“Because. You have to admit it first.” You state, deciding not to entirely close off the idea of kissing him again, but atleast removing an aspect of vulnerability from it.

“I’ll show you,” he pulls your body further into his, nose nudging against your own. It pushes your face up so your mouth is more accessible to his.

You’re suddenly flushing at the action, this was too far to prove a point— even for you— you decided.

He feels you squirm, “Do you not want me to kiss you? Or are you just nervous around me.”

“Don’t be conceited…” you scowl against his cheek, “you still repulse me.”

His throat makes a deep sound, and he grazes over your mouth. A tease, he does it again, and again.

The heat of his mouth is brushing yours in a torturous cycle— one that doesn’t seem to be ending on his terms. A soft pass of his lower lip, and you’re eager for more, but he pulls away just a fraction. All you can feel is the hot air passing through his parted lips. He doesn’t give in.

“I wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want t’do…” His voice is no more than a whisper. It is truth as much as it is a trap. He’s instating that if you make the next move, you want this.

Everything is in the fine print around here.

You can feel him talking almost against your mouth, the small vibration of every syllable that passes through his lips. It’s tempting beyond belief, beginning to forge a sense of desperation in your body that not even you can condone.

His plan is working to a tea. You hate him so much for it.

He brushes his hands over you, heat radiating from his body. But not pushing into your mouth, just lingering.

Not making a move until you cave against him first.

He somehow knows you like the back of his hand, because you couldn’t resist pushing back into his mouth after all that. Despite the alarm bells absolutely blaring in your head, you went against them completely.

Three minutes of teasing was practically all it was, but it was enough to leave the hairs on your body standing up, and your lungs panting for air.

Enemies spend so much time carving stakes to throw at each other, that along the way they find out more about one another than anyone else. Idiosyncrasies that you somehow learn from warfare, has now stemmed into to being used with the art of… romance or whatever you call it.

Probably not romance— actually not at all romance— but whatever this is.

You know it’s true because right now, your hands are itching to pull his hair. You know he’s into it, since a whole post got aired out about it and you tried to use it against him hardly a few months ago.

He only played it off with a smirk, and an offer to see just how riled up it got him.

Just as now he bites at your lip, a thing he worked out of you when you were absolutely trashed at Belle’s end of semester party.

Something he cant lie he’s been craving to do since he found out.

This kiss goes from teasing and something that’s merely testing boundaries to an entirely fueled makeout session.

There was no room for words suddenly, except muttered curses being shared between the two of you.

Both of you are moving in sync, stepping backwards until his hands fumble with the door of a conveniently placed supply closet.

Your mind is whirling as he guides you into the even darker room. Hardly lit, it made everything feel like you were imagining it. Only outlines are visible, thanks to the thin warm rays of light snaking their way through the gap in the door.

Christ, he is tugging you hard against him, and you want it… his hands skating over your hips and dipping teasingly down to your ass are hardly helping your case.

Finally you get something out of your mouth, “fuck— is this still a part of your stupid agenda? Or do you actually want something?

He grabs your wrist, suddenly guiding it down to a place you can feel just how much he wants something.

You bite down hard on your lip to contain the gasp that almost slipped out as you feel the bulge he’s sporting beneath his jeans, “feel that, baby?”

Fuck… this is going to completely fuck you over. You need him? It hits you like a tonne of bricks, and also straight between your own legs.

A whine exits your mouth quicker than you can hold it back, and you wish for an ounce of shame that Harry just heard that. But you can’t seem to find it.

And infact, he revels in the noise, that high pitched sound of need that comes from you. It fuels him, because he wants to hear more of it.

Neither of you are thinking about circumstances right now. All you can feel is the intense sense of desire.

At least for yourself, the idea of finding a way to royally fuck Harry over is on the back burner.

You remind yourself this is just how college is. Things happen, and that’s fine…

Well, thats how you’re justifying right now. Because in reality, you don’t have a lot else to vouch for yourself with.

Overall, you’re stricken of breath from your actions, both figuratively and literally.

The way Harry’s lips are melded to yours, hot and smooth— kissing your mouth with such keen intent, anyone from the outside would think the situation laid on completely different grounds to the reality.

His body is moving insatiably against yours now, like you’re two people who have been longtime acquaintances or friends that have finally managed to make a move.

His hands skate the skin of your back with fervour, as though you both were strangers that really hit it off at an event.

But you still think those circumstances wouldn’t feel nearly as good as this one did. The hatred that flooded you everytime he was around fuelled you all the same.

Your hand is still placed over his bulge, cupping it as you both half devour each other. It’s hot to know you’re currently placed over his most vulnerable spot, and the fact he’s allowing it.

Especially when there’s enough history to warrant a punch to the groin.

It’s a reminder to how horrid an idea this technically is. That you’re fraternising with the worst person you possibly could.

You pant against him, spitting out a much needed reality check, “Fuck— I still hate you.”

He is your enemy. Your adversary. Your opponent. Not friend, only foe. Yet you’ve landed yourself in this supply closet with him. At your college. While half of your grade level is mingling downstairs.

You can’t tell if you regret picking a college that does so many random community activities. Such as a college sleepout, camping on campus as they’d deemed it.

It was set to strengthen connections with peers and mesh with those you haven’t before upon a familiar location.

And oh, are you meshing with someone you don’t usually…

“Hate me, hm?” He hums against the skin of your throat, baring his teeth and grazing them against it. Evoking a shudder from you at the sensation, which zipped down your spine and furthering the pool of warmth that gathered at the peak of your thighs.

Your hands tightened as they clutched his waist, nails scratching against the muscled flesh as you searched for a response.

“You’re an ass, Harry, I cant forget that even with your tongue in my mouth. And…” He licked a stripe up your neck, drawing back to meet your eye level as you spoke. Suddenly words weren’t coming out again.

“And?” He prompts, “Can’t forget tha’ even when im making you feel this good? When im getting you this worked up? And, probably when you know im able to give you the best orgasm of your life.”

You shoved his chest, yet balling his shirt up so you could immediately pull him closer against you. The idea of going further made you flushed, despite that being the only way everything is headed with the make out session you just had.

But it’s hard to miss the way it’s exactly what your body is rioting for. Not to mention the way his gorgeous and pouty face that’s hardly visible in this light works you up even more.

“Just… shut your mouth. Keep it closed.” You pleaded, letting your hands slide underneath his shirt and scratch against his taut muscles. A part of you longing to see the tattoos hidden beneath.

“How would I do this, then?” He guided his lips back against yours and licked into your mouth. His skilful tongue made you weak against him, the way it swirled around your own.

The exchange almost made your knees buckle where you stood pressed up against the door. Hands wringing against the oddly soft skin of his back, his mouth tasting of mint.

Every part of him was unfairly perfect, down to the way he tasted— which made you almost drool it was that good. But regardless, it’s messed up he’s allowed to walk around being so flawless.

Well, physically flawless anyway… given what flaws he lacks in that department, he makes up for with his subpar personality.

As his warm mouth moves against yours, your hands dipped back down to where his belt laid, toying with the buckle.

He drew his mouth back, yet pushing his thigh forward— slotting it between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Pretty thing, pullin’ on m’belt like you’re desperate for something.”

His words made you shudder, and you know he’s trying to ease you into some kind of submission. And you hate the way it would probably work.

“Desperate? Coming from the one who is already pushing his cock into my hand through his jeans.” The scoff he let out gave you a rush of satisfaction.

Although he didnt verbally retaliate, a hand tucked into your hair and pulled your head back. Exposing your neck so he could suck a harsh mark into it.

“Y’all talk, darling…” he whispers, letting your hair go and slipping his fingers nimbly under your fitted shirt.

His hand is pressed into your breast firmly over the top of your bra, held down by the tight fabric of your top.

It renders you senseless, the feeling of his warm palm atop your skin. Hand held over the heart you swore a million times he wanted to rip out of your chest.

Your own fingertips glide along his arm, feeling the soft hair dusting them, and coming to instinctually clutch his bicep.

There was both fear and arousal pumping through you, it was a sick and twisted adrenaline high that pushed you further into his game.

You unconsciously ground yourself against the thigh his had worked its way between your legs, a whimper slipping out as he gently squeezed your tit.

His name slipped from your mouth, sounding like a desperate plea.

“Y/N, baby.” He mocks almost, “just tell me what you need.”

It’s a shame you didn’t have the strength to even hesitate, “You.”

A satisfied hum from his throat embarrassed you, yet not enough to stop grinding down onto his jean-covered thigh.

His hand retracts from where it was inside your top, and disappears south. Fingers dipping below the fabric of your leggings, and touching over your core like it was nothing.

Your legs nearly gave out as his fingers drew over your fabric covered clit. A noise rattling in your chest as he adds a hint of pressure.

It feels heavenly even over a layer of fabric. Nails were now dug into the flesh of his arm, and your brain starting racing even faster than your heart.

Need, need, need.

That’s the only chorus you could hear in you head, you needed to feel his fingers press inside of you. You would even resort to begging if it came to it.

“Everyone always acts like you’re such a good girl, dove.” He shakes his head, already foreshadowing his disagreement with his tone.

He delivers a flick of your clit, “but you’re not really. Not at all.”

The dampness of your panties could almost make him moan aloud, but he holds himself back, continuing his little speech.

“If only they could see how wet your pussy’s gotten for me. Just how badly you want something from me.”

“Shut up.” You wish it held even a hint of venom, but it was yet another plead to him.

He leans forwards and captures your lips in a short but searing kiss, licking into your mouth for hardly a second before retracting.

“Want my fingers inside of you?” He asks, ignoring your previous complaint.

The idea sounds like a fucking dream right now, and you nod feverishly despite him hardly being able to see it.

“Yes, just do it, please.”

He waits hardly much longer before pushing your soaked underwear aside, allowing his middle finger to slip through your wet centre.

The sensation of the first contact skin-to-skin releases a full body shudder from you, and then furthers into a groan as he eases into your soaked hole.

He wastes no time curving it upward, eager to hear your moans. There’s no resistance as he touches you, you melt into him.

“Fucks sake,” he curses as you rut into his palm, craving the friction of it against your clit.

“So keen to grind yourself all over my hand, huh? Who would’ve thought I’d have you in here tonight, making a mess on my fingers.”

His voice is idilic as it enters your euphoric mind, even though his words are a dig at you, you can help but be turned on even more by it.

“Please…” you whine, although you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for.

He starts to move his hand faster, there’s a level of skill behind it, he knows what he’s doing.

The pressure of his upper palm against your clit, and the circles he’s rubbing inside of you. Pressing at a sweet spot that’s making you drip.

It’s not long before you can hear how wet you are, hardly masked by the moans flying from your mouth.

“Already going to come?” He chuckles, kissing at your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck— Harry…”

He pushes in a second finger, making your back arch in pleasure. Christ, it felt so fucking good.

You are so unbelievably wet, and in the back of your mind you can’t believe he’s got you in a state like this.

Palms fisting at his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get. He can tell you’re starting to unravel between him.

Your hole is pulsing in response to his fast and firm hands, and profanities flying from your lips.

“Cmon, show me how much you hate me, Y/N.”

“I hate you!” You cry, and the feeling of your impending orgasm is taking over your whole body. It’s burning in your stomach, aching in your chest.

His fingers somehow curl faster inside of you, and finally make you snap.

A cry falls from your mouth and your hips jerk harshly against him.

“Ride it out, good girl…” he coos to you, and your head is spinning.

Somehow, as you come down from your high, it was not enough.

“More, Harry.”

A silence envelops you both for a second, “what?”

“Need you inside of me.”

When he doesn’t move to action your request, you start fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

“Woah, slow down baby. Think for a second, gotta let you settle first.” His tone translates as unsure in your mind.

“Do you not want to?” You frown at him, “Just say that, im not going to be—

“No.” He immediately interjects, “not sayin’ that at all dove, just want you to clear y’head for a second.”

His hand has slipped out of your leggings, and his reminder makes you take a deep breath. It was almost sweet, even though it was the bare minimum.

“I’m fine.” You sigh, “thank you, though.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

You’re surprised he has any decency at all in that regard.

“I know…” your hands have now slid his belt off him, “but I want you to fuck me, like fuck me absolutely stupid.”

“God, Y/N.” He rasps, “trying to be so gentle with you right now, an’ y’just want to be filled with my cock.”

“I do, so help me take these off.” You work to slide his jeans down.

There’s a fumble with eachothers clothing that quickly follows, all the sudden shirts are being torn off and pants shucked down from eachothers legs.

Thrown in random directions to be dealt with a later time, because right now all the can be felt is the desire.

“I’ve got a condom.”

“Why the fuck do you have a condom at a school camp out?” You scoffed, but typical of Harry to cart around a condom ‘just incase’.

“Ah well, yknow. Prepared for any occasion.”

You rolled your eyes, hands pressed on his chest, “God you have a way of making a girl feel special.”

“Darling, if you’re worried about that let me show you.” He runs his fingers down your body, lingering on the low of your belly.

“I shouldn’t be so surprised, I know better than anyone you’re one of St Jacklyn’s biggest man whores.”

“Not a man whore, just have an appreciation for a woman’s beauty.”

You lean in to kiss at his jaw, “I’ll pretend that’s not a bit objectifying.”

He groans, subconsciously cocking his head back so you have more room to peck at, “you’re impossible to please.”

“You haven’t tried that hard yet.” You sing, swinging the topic back to its original starting point.

“Oh yea?” He grips at your waist, tearing the condom he pulled from god knows where and moving his briefs down his thighs so he can roll it down his length.

He quickly pushes you back, so your body is pressed into the wall again, and a heat envelopes your body all over again.

His hands are now toying with your underwear, his lips back over yours as he teases you all over again.

You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, and although there’s hardly enough light to get a good look, you can tell he’s big. Perfectly equipped, if you will.

Your hand finds its way to wrap around him, wishing for a second he wasn’t covered with a condom so you could really feel him.

Nevertheless, you give him a slow and steady stroke, taking great pride in the pleasure-filled sigh that gets drawn from his lungs.

“Fuck Y/N…”

“Look who’s whining now, good boy.”

He doesn’t even have the mental resolve to quip back at you, he simply cranes into your touch, mouthing at your chest absentmindedly.

“You’re gonna make m’come before im even inside of you. C’mere.”

He tugs your underwear down all the way, letting you step out of it. Wasting no time sliding his hand around the back of your thigh, lifting it up around his waist.

Your hands run over his shirtless frame, palming at the taut abs he has, trying not to salivate.

“You tell me if you want to stop or change something, alright?”

You nod, but it wasn’t enough for him, “need an answer, darling.”

“Yes, thank you.” Your answer was sighed, a flutter of your eyelids as he presses his cock against your clit.

You whine as he runs his tip through your slit, coating himself in your pooled arousal, his breathing heavy.

He takes his time here, teasing you, pushing into you just enough to have you clenching around him yet still leave you begging him for more.

“Harry, Harry please.”

He knew exactly how to work you so he got this. The begging and pleading to be filled up with him.

“Tell me what y’want.” His voice is raspy, yet drips with honey.

“You.”

He tuts, flicking your sensitive clit, “need more detail than that.”

“Want… fuck.” You roll your hips against him, “want you to fuck me so deep, please. Need to feel you all the way inside of me.”

There was no shame for you right now, all you could focus on was the pulsing need deep in your core, aching to be stretched out by him.

“That’s it dove,” he finally pushes in, moaning in sync with you.

“Fuck, you feel so nice around me.”

Your hole is already clenching around his length, your hips mindlessly grinding down into him. Pulling him in deeper until he’s hitting all the perfect spots.

He groans at your needy rutting against him, making him start to pump inside of you, hardly taking a slow start.

You feel your brain nearly switch off, all but the part that’s associated with him. His scent, his touch, all the history that you’re seemingly fucking out right now.

“Need you to go harder.” You cry, making him almost chuckle.

“What a wonderful thing t’hear from you. That you, the girl who fucking hates me wants me to fuck her senseless.” His statement is panted out, and usually you’d say something snarky back, but right now none of that crosses your mind.

“Please, want you to ruin me…”

Right now that is all you want, to be completely ruined.

He doesn’t take your request light heartedly, he ruts into you with deep and fast strokes. Hand coming to where your clit is, toying with it at the same pace.

He mutters dirty words into your ear as he keeps going, winding you up even when you didn’t think you could anymore.

“Cmon baby, show me how you let go around me.” He pushes, grabbing at the back of your head, lacing his hands into your hair.

He tugs your lips against his, and your moaning against him still, mouth wide open.

His name falls from your tongue like a mantra, over and over again until you’re nearly collapsed. He has to hold you up when you start to come, your knees completely cave in.

“Oh my— oh my god!” Your whole body rocks against his hold, his cock hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know you had.

“Don’t stop, please don’t..” you feel the second he starts to unravel with you, his thrusts lapse in pace and all the sudden his breath stutters.

“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He grunts and falls into you as, “why didn’t we do this earlier, fuckin’ hell.”

His cock twitches inside of you, and both of you are stricken of air, lightheaded but filled with so much pleasure.

“That was so good, Harry…” you kiss at his neck, and his breath passes out as a chuckle.

“Still hate my guts though?” He laughs.

Your palms run down his back, relaxing as he slides out of you, “Mhmm, a good fuck isn’t gonna change that.”

“Atleast you can admit im good in bed.” He teases.

“Technically we’re not in a bed, so not sure if that point stands.”

“Just had you crying out my name as you come around my dick n’ you’re already back to mouthing me off.”

“Mouthing you off, huh?”

He snorts, “right, you dirty thing.”

“Can mouth you off if you beg for it.”

“Already want a round two with me, isn’t that saying something.” He stares at you, lips curling into a smile.

“You made me finish twice, seems only fair.” You suggest.

And suddenly, you realised you’ve gotten into a very dangerous spiral with a very dangerous player in your game.

Only time will tell…

———

a/n: I have hardly edited this but I really really just wanted to post again, I hope it’s okay and the writing isn’t too rusty lol

[bonelyheartsclub]

♡ Poplar - Valentine's One-Shot ♡

Written by @/duskyskye

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“Splendid, absolutely splendid!”

Poplar gazed at your latest piece, raising it above his head. You’d tried your best to work with the tiny watercolor canvas and brushes he had available for you, but you really thought you could have done better with this one. Especially compared to Poplar’s prowess.

“I don’t know,” you thought aloud, “I don’t think it’s really all that.”

“Nonsense! The way you rendered this flower is lovely! I love the shading you did on the petals.”

“Poplar…you and I both know I was just following a tutorial. I couldn’t do that without help.” Your tone was light as you spoke, though the creeping feeling of inadequacy was still present. Of course, Poplar wasn’t taking that from you.

“Hmm…what I know for certain is that you shouldn’t be nearly this hard on yourself. Everyone begins somewhere, after all! I think you’re off to a lovely start. Now, may I?” Poplar stood, gesturing to the wall. You gave him a shrug and a nod, trying to keep the smile on your face. Without another word, he positioned your piece just above his desk mirror.

“Well, I think that makes for a lovely centerpiece. Done by an even more lovely person.” Poplar smiled, looking at the wall.

You followed his gaze. Yep. That was your piece, alright. Next to the other paintings that he had hanging. They seemed to dwarf yours in quality, the brushwork and delicate detail reflecting Poplar’s talent in his craft. You shuddered a little bit.

Poplar seemed to pick up on your discomfort, his smile faltering as he sat back down next to you.

“Does it really bother you that much? Your painting?”

You gave him a small nod. He sighed, looking downcast for a brief moment before his sockets widened, his smile quickly returning as he turned to you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever shown you my old paintings, now, have I? Oh dear, what a shame. Though surely if you’re so bothered by someone’s early works, you’d have no interest…” Poplar made a point of acting hurt, leaning dramatically against his desk. You giggled at the theatrics. Maybe you were a bit on the theatrical side yourself with how downtrodden you were being.

“Are you acting like that because you think they’re any worse than mine?”

“Darling, I KNOW they are.” Poplar gave you a quick grin before taking his cane and walking to his dresser. With a flourish, he pulled out a well-loved folder from the top drawer.

“I suppose I should clarify before I open this, but I am showing this to you with the express purpose of helping you understand that everyone struggles when beginning in a new medium. I fully expect you to laugh, to judge, and so on. All I ask is that when you reach the life drawing section, you refrain from visibly cringing too hard.” Poplar slid back into the seat beside you, placing the file on the tabletop where you had been working.

“What’s that supposed to mean, anyway?”

“You’ll find out in just a moment.”

You opened the file, which contained a relatively thick bunch of papers. The top started with a few color studies. Each labelled with various brush styles, paint colors, and blending methods. Wet on wet, wet on dry, flat wash, gradients, glazing… all things you had a vague understanding of, but more than you think you would have the patience to complete. You could tell that the strokes and coloring were not nearly as neat as the works that were displayed above your head.

Pages turned from dedicated exercises to a few applications. Circles in various colors were shaded using the previous techniques. He was experimenting with the various colors available to him. You could tell that he had also been following guides with a few of these as he got the hang of the technique. It all seemed fairly rudimentary, but you could tell that he had put a lot of effort in.

At this point it appeared he was branching out his sketching skills as well. Leaves and flowers were a common subject, it seemed. It was at that point that he broke the silence.

“Ash was beginning to garden at around the point I started to commit to bettering myself in the visual arts. It’s interesting, trying to capture the detail in such tiny little things. Though I think you can see that the subtlety is easy to lose.” He finished with a laugh.

Sure enough, the linework was notably shaky. The symmetry he had tried to go for had been lost. The lines clearly lacked confidence, and the veins of the leaves looked more like fur than anything else, somehow. Not that you could do much better if you were going for absolute realism.

“I think you still did a good job.” You said, gesturing to a couple illustrations. “This leaf looks really nice!”

“I’m well aware that they’re wonky, darling. They were my first attempts.” Poplar offered you a smile. “You don’t need to struggle to come up with compliments.”

“No, no, I genuinely think they’re good! Especially for first attempts.”

“Then I suggest you continue onwards. Though while you do, would you mind if I make a sketch of my own while you continue to peruse?”

“Go for it.”

Poplar nodded, pulling his sketchbook and a pencil into his hand. You flipped to the next page.

Poplar had shifted from leaves and flowers to objects that you recognized from around his room. A porcelain plate with floral decoration that he displayed on the other side of the room. A plush that he had carefully mounted on top of his shelves. What you assumed was either an older bed of his, or one of his cousin’s, as it wasn’t the one you were next to currently. Each had what looked like at least an hour of work poured into them. Even if they weren’t the best sketches, you could see he was gaining a better eye for detail as he worked at it.

Then you flipped to the next piece.

You could only ASSUME that what you were looking at was his first attempt at drawing chicken. 

You looked back at Chicken, who had been fast asleep on their pillow for the majority of their visit. You turned in your seat, looking between the sketch and the real thing.

“Ah. You found it.” Poplar broke into a fit of giggles. “It’s absolutely awful, isn’t it? It’s alright to laugh.”

Well, it was…certainly an attempt. Poplar had gone VERY heavy on the wrinkles. One eye was notably misshapen compared to the other, and the muzzle was disproportionately long for a cat. The end product was what you could tell was Chicken from the approximation of feline traits and almost nothing else.

“I don’t know, I think you did ok.”

“No, I absolutely crashed and burned. There are only two reasons that that sketch isn’t in the bin. The first is that when I’m struggling with a piece, it reminds me that I could do so much worse. The second is that when I’m feeling overconfident, it humbles me.”

Hearing him talk…yeah, you knew what you sounded like now.

“Should I continue going through this, or do you think that your point came across just fine?” You asked him, a slight hint of comedy in your tone. The stack that you had left to sort through wasn’t thick.

“Oh, by all means, continue. I’m still working on what I’m doing over here. Though if you’re curious about any of the other pieces within, you only need to ask.” Poplar looked up at you from his paper, gesturing to you to continue.

So, you did.

While none of the pieces invoked the same level of shock in you that Chicken’s portrait did, you could see the purpose of these sketches was very much to learn the ropes of anatomy and shape. It wasn’t like you had much room to speak, of course. It was more of a comparison to his current work than anything else. You could see things improving as you thumbed through each sheet of canvas, each work growing more refined as you went on. By the end, you could see a couple of full pieces that started to look very nice.

“So?” Poplar eagerly piped up as he saw you close the folder. “What are your thoughts? Do be honest about it.”

“It’s your beginner’s folder. I think you showed a lot of promise even back then, even if your pieces weren’t always the best work.” You stated bluntly. Poplar smiled at your tiptoeing.

“Now, tell me: how many folders in do you think I am now?”

“…I have no clue.”

“Fifteen. All as big as this one. Plus at least three sketchbooks. It’s a hobby, but I’m quite dedicated.”

Your eyes widened. Wow, no wonder there was such a jump in quality between then and now.

“No kidding you’re, ‘dedicated.’ I can see that all that work paid off.”

“I’d like to think so. Of course, everyone has areas in which they can improve with their artwork. I’ve just been working hard enough and for long enough that things come to me more naturally than they once did. For instance:”

Poplar thumbed through the sketchbook he was holding to an earlier page. On it was a similar picture of Chicken, this time with more precise proportions. A marked improvement from what you had seen before.

“I see. You did an amazing job on that.” You reached out, gently touching the paper.

“I’m glad you think so! Though I find I’m still not the best at rendering skin folds. They look more like the folding you’d find on clothing than the kind you’d find on skin. It doesn’t help that I can’t use myself as reference, what with the bones and all.”

Poplar closed the sketchbook, looking you directly in the eye.

“I never want you to feel bad at where you’re at in your art journey, my love. We all have to start somewhere, and personally, I think yours is much better than mine. What matters is that you’re trying, because if you keep doing that, then you’ll get to where you want to be eventually.”

You looked back at the piece he’d hung up on the wall. Sure, it was more of an attempt than anything, but maybe it wasn’t so bad. You chuckled.

“Yeah, I got you. I appreciate the reassurance, Poplar.”

“Any time, my love. Now, are you curious as to what I was working on while you were distracted with my crimes against art?”

You giggled at his joke.

“Of course.”

Poplar opened the sketchbook back up, turning to a point about midway through.

What greeted you on the page was your reflection, not fully rendered due to the lack of time, but still clearly you, nonetheless. Your hair was perfectly textured, your eyes stood out brightly with a small amount of rendering, and your skin looked as light as the paper it was drawn on.

“Poplar…I’m flattered.”

“Well, you know, I think it has room for improvement. Time to shade and color, for instance. There’s SO much to improve on. After all, it’s hard to compare a pencil sketch to the TRUE work of art that it’s based on…”

“Yeah, yeah!” You shoved him, both of you laughing. “Seriously though, this is gorgeous. Thank you for this.”

“Of course, my love.” Poplar leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on your cheek. “You know that if you ever feel as though you’re lacking confidence, I’m happy to give you any encouragement you need. Even if it means showing you my first attempts at drawing my cat.”

You smiled, not doubting his words for even a second.

“Thank you, Poplar… and you know what?” You pulled a new canvas from the paper stack Poplar had supplied you and confidently took a pencil in your hand. “I’m ready to start on my next piece.”

Poplar’s sockets sparkled; his grin widened from cheek to cheek.

“I’m excited to see what you create, darling.”

[nevarrhoe]

mea culpa (m.m) - 5

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

warnings: smut !! p in v, she/her pronouns used for reader

series master list

any minors caught interacting will be blocked and reported

It didn’t take long to get used to life without Matthew Murdock.

He’d been important to you and then he wasn’t. People came and went all the time - you had ex-boyfriends and ex-best friends and a multitude of relationships that had been significant until they weren’t. You wouldn’t go as far as calling Matt your boyfriend but that didn’t erase the fact there had been a connection. That was what you missed most: having somebody who got you the way he did. And it was funny, because the string of insults he’d thrown your way during your last conversation proved him to be everything but someone who understood you. It had been a weak moment for you both and maybe if there had been more at stake - if you’d been the same age, or things were more serious, or your lives more intertwined then you could have moved on from it. That was just it though: it was just a fling. And it had to end eventually. 

Two weeks later, you’d fallen back into your natural routine of shopping and drinking and enjoying a privileged existence. Now, however, you were spending more time at the office: not necessarily helping your father, but just running errands and doing paperwork. You told yourself over and over that it wasn’t anything to do with what Matt had said. Say it a few more times and maybe you’d start to believe it. 

“So Harrison is single again,” your best friend’s voice filled the void of your father’s office. She was sat on the edge of your desk, filing her nails whilst you did your paperwork. “His ex-girlfriend cheated on him so he’s selling his place in London and moving back here. I can give him your number if you want.”

You tried not to visibility flinch at the mere thought. Even though your affair with Matt had proved to be anything but successful, the idea of ever going back to a guy your own age was a little too much. What was the point? They were all immature, trust fund babies who couldn’t fuck properly and definitely wouldn’t treat you right. And you weren’t looking for commitment - not at that point in your life. You just needed someone who could make you laugh and make you orgasm. That had seemed impossible to find. At least until Matt.

“Mmm,” you hummed. “No, I’m good. Harrison and I never really got on that well.”

“Oh, come on!” she groaned. “He’s hurting right now so you know he’ll probably put out-”

“- I’m not interested!” you cut her off. “I’m just not really looking for anything right now. I wanna focus on work.”

“Doing paperwork for free at your dad’s office doesn’t count as work,” she huffed. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you muttered. “I have an appointment now anyways, so if you could make yourself scarce I would really appreciate it.”

“Fiiiine,” she grumbled. “Are you coming to cocktails tonight at the Rainbow Room?”

“I’ll see.”

She stood up and sauntered out of the room - just in time, actually, because your 4PM appointment was waiting right outside. You tried not to visibly react to seeing Matt; somehow, you’d avoided crossing paths with him around the courthouse thus far. It was bound to happen eventually but you felt a lot worse about it than you initially thought. 

“Mr Murdock,” you greeted him, holding your professionalism until the door was closed and your friend was out of earshot. When she was, you faltered slightly. He had a strong presence after all. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Matt took a deep breath, putting aside his cane. 

“Look, Matthew, I can reschedule this appointment when my father’s back in town, or when his assistant can take it instead-”

“- I scheduled it for today on purpose, actually,” he admitted. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You scowled. “And did you consider that maybe I don’t want to talk to you?”

“Yeah, that was definitely a possibility I thought about,” he said. “But you are talking to me, so that gives me hope.”

You paused for a second - Matt did have a point. If you truly hated him, you probably would have ignored him from the get-go. You were furious with the man, without a doubt, but some part of you still held onto the way he’d made you feel before the fuck up. He’d said all those things in the heat of the moment, but you couldn’t shake the fact he still said them. 

“I’m getting on with my life,” you said. “I’m over it. You should do the same.”

“I tried,” Matt replied. “I already regretted the things I said-”

“- why?” you cut him off. “You had a point, Matt. I’m a spoilt little rich girl and you’re a working class lawyer. We’ll never see eye to eye or understand each other. No amount of good fucking will change that.”

He hesitated for a second. “I think you’re wrong.”

“Oh?”

“You were right about the Thompson case, though,” he admitted. “The defendant changed his plea last week.”

“Right,” you murmured. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, me too,” he shrugged. “I’m more sorry about the things I said, though. I take my job very seriously and there are times where it gets in the way of other important things - more important things.”

“I’m a girl you slept with a few times. I wouldn’t hold myself in that high regard.”

He gave you a small smile. “You should - I’m not here to declare my love for you or ask for your hand in marriage but I didn’t realise til you weren’t in my life that you meant more to me than a silly argument.”

“I do?’

“You do,” Matt replied. “All those things I said…none of them matter. I might be right, I might not be, but even if you’re the most spoiled, aloof rich girl in this city, you’re the girl I’d choose over any other.”

You stood up and crossed over to where Matt was stood - he reached out for you as you met halfway, large hands taking your waist as you crashed your lips against his. You’d missed his palms; they were calloused and rough and rugged but fuck, they held you so well. Same for his lips. He bit them when he was anxious so they were always a little indurated but they felt right against yours. 

After that little speech of his, things felt a little more…intense. It had just been a fling before but now it felt like something more.

“You sure do how to sweet talk a girl into forgiving you, huh?” you murmured against him. 

“I really don’t,” Matt replied, and you felt his chest shake slightly as he chuckled. “I practiced that speech like fifty times on the way over here.”

“It worked,” you smiled. Taking a step back, you locked the office door and then tangled your hands with Matt’s, leading him over to the sofa on the other side of the room. “But I think we should talk things through a little bit.”

Matt took a seat opposite you. “Yeah, of course.”

“We need to set boundaries,” you explained. “We’re very different people and I just…I need to know that we can deal with those differences if they come up again, you know? We can’t argue it out every time and now that we���ve established this is a little more than a one night stand-”

“- you don’t have to decide what it is yet,” he cut you off. “I know things are different for you - you’re younger and your entire life is different from mine. When you do know, you just say, okay?”

You smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Of course, I appreciate that.”

“And I know that we’re different,” Matt said. “I like that about us. If it does come up again, we’ll dealt with it. Not like the first time we dealt with it, but we will.”

He pulled you into another kiss; this one was a little deeper, a little more passionate. There was no guesses on where it was leading, and you had to quickly remind yourself that you were still in your father’s office. Not that you hadn’t fantasised about this multiple times. You weren’t opposed to it - not by any means - but you worried Matt might have his reservations about getting off in such a public place.

You almost said something, but when he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you onto his lap, any worries quickly dissipated. Previously, neither of you had worked this fast. There was normally build up - a bit of teasing and fliritng, even if you both knew where it was going to go - but after two of nothing, neither of you cared much for foreplay (in both a literal and metaphorical sense). 

Matt pushed you back onto the sofa so you were laying flat, attaching his lips to your neck. You almost let out a moan, until he clamped a large hand over your mouth. Thinking ahead, as always. He didn’t waste any more time in taking off your blouse and skirt. He was a little more careful than usual, being aware that you’d have to put them back on after.  That didn’t stop him throwing them across the room. There was a little more fumbling and finally his shirt came off too. 

“Matt,” you murmured. “Those marks on your chest-”

“- they’re nothing,” he growled. 

“Matt.”

The lawyer huffed - he wasn’t about to get cockblocked after two weeks of not seeing you. 

“I fell,” Matt muttered. “I was drunk and I fell. Will you take that story?”

“I will take it simply for the sake of the fact your boner is pressing against my thigh,” you replied. “But I’ll have questions later-”

“- works with me.”

He went back to work, lips on your neck, then collarbone, and chest, and then your neck again. The marks he’d left on you after your last fuck had faded and he was determined to leave more. He was still careful though, making sure they were in places no-one else would see. If you went into this meeting with no visible hickeys, you’d have to leave without them. Y’know, for continuity. 

You moved your hands down, fiddling with the buckle on his belt until it came loose and you were able to reach a hand down and brush it over his dick. He shivered when you did: even though he had the feeling of you memorised - your hands, your mouth, everything - it was still something he had craved over the last few weeks. 

Matt grabbed you again, and you let out a squeak as he flipped you over. He was underneath now - you still in control no doubt, with one hand on your throat and the other on your ass - with you on top. That had become one of his favourite positions. It gave him easy access to everything. 

Placing both his hands on your ass cheeks, he pulled you forward and slipped inside you. It took you a minute to revel on the feeling: after all, this time an hour ago, you weren’t sure you would ever feel this good again. And some petty part of you still wanted to punish Matt, so you held out on moving for as long as you could. It was easy enough until he grabbed you by the throat again, pulling you towards him so that your foreheads were pushed together.

“Ride,” he demanded. 

You did as he said, moving your hips back and forth. Your groans were simultaneously, but both surpressed given the…envrionment. Normally, you were noisy as fuck and Matt would encourage it. At the moment, you couldn’t work out if him squeezing your throat every time you let out a groan was praise or punishment. Either was fine. 

Matt’s free hand moved about, sometimes on your ass, sometimes on your tits, and ever so often lingering on your clit. If he’d had more time, he would have teased you more but given the noise and time constraint, he kept it simple. That was funny to you, because his idea of simple was still a thousand times more mindblowing than any other man you’d ever been with.

He hit the right spot over and over and it wasn’t long until you could feel something building up in the pit of your stomach. That might have been a new record. You could barely think straight as you rode him, hands leaving bright red scratches up and down his toned arms. It was only egging him on.

Even when your high hit you, completely disabling your ability to think and ripping through your frontal lobe like a bucket of cold fucking water, Matt kept going. He wasn’t far off, and the load moan you let out when you came brought him even closer. 

“You need to be quiet,” he teased, hand squeezing your throat as you let out another groan. 

Matt followed not long after you. Rather than covering his mouth, he buried his head in your shoulder, teeth pinching at your bare skin as he let out a low grunt. You tangled a hand in his hair, arm wrapping around his neck to bring him up into a kiss. 

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Is it safe to say that we’re all good?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “You’re forgiven.”

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Ten: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, oral, dick piercing, spit, back shots, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is so annoyed with his mother. He discovers something and Ghost has plans for it. [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: August 16th

I thought for sure you’d kick me to the curb. But just like always, you never fail to amaze me. You like the side of me that no one else does, you like both of me, that’s a miracle if I’ve ever seen one.

I don’t even like both of me.

You chose me, for whatever reasons you might have, pure curiosity or genuine care and interest… I don’t really care. All I care about is that you chose me. You want me. Me. All of me.

You’re choosing both of me. Separately. But soon you’ll love both sides of me, you’ll love me as a whole. That’s something no one has ever given to me. No one has ever wholly loved me, partially because I’ve never shown anyone all of me, partially because I used to fail miserably at balancing the black and white of my being.

Anakin the perfect boyfriend and future husband deserves your daylight love. Ghost the purposely imperfect and probably less than sane guy deserves your midnight curiosities.

I like this. Separating myself this way, it’s more manageable. I’ve tried for years and years to just be Anakin who is always pretending to be the man of the year, but is still just a tad too… off putting.

To everyone back home, I’ll always be the strange guy who only had two friends, himself and the neighbor kid who was only such good friends with him because they grew up in close proximity.

Anakin, the weird kid who didn’t know how to smile properly.

Anakin, the creep who stared too much, not at anything inappropriate. I wasn’t leering at women or anything, it’s just creepy for people to be looked at by someone who has ‘dead eyes’ and ‘doesn’t blink enough’.

Anakin, the ‘well he’s trying’ boy. The poor little guy who brought Brianna a handful of nettles on the playground, tied together with worms. ‘He meant well! He’s trying to be nice sweetie.’

Anakin, the ‘turn out your pockets before you come inside’ kid. You come home with a dead squirrel in your hoodie pocket once and your mother will never trust you not to have another stashed somewhere.

‘hey, it’s not that I don’t think you’re great! I do! You’re just not… great for me.’

‘please don’t look at me like that, it makes me uncomfortable’

‘Get away from my yard, I know what you’re doing!’

‘Who’s cat is that? Anakin! Where did you get this?’

‘Ani, you can’t keep doing this. I can’t protect you forever!’

‘Don’t you want to have friends? A girlfriend? To grow up and have a family? Don’t you want that?’

I was always Anakin-weird as hell, psycho, town freak-Skywalker.

In your daylight love I can be Anakin-nice guy, perfect smile, warm hugs-Skywalker.

I can shove everything else into The Pit until I’m ready to put on that Ghostface mask and take off my mask of normalcy. Weird isn’t it? Putting on a mask just to take off another one?

I like it though. I really like it.

I can be normal for you. I can. I can be normal. As long as Ghost can be let out of The Pit sometimes. No more balancing on the edge for Anakin. No more hiding and pretending and suffocating myself with the act of being a person.

If I can flood Anakin with all the things I’ve learned over the years, all the knowledge I’ve stored away in my mind’s filing cabinets… then you can have the man you deserve.

You’ll just have to come to terms with the fact that once Ghost makes his appearance, your Anakin is gone until further notice.

I think you’ll do well with that. You’re already handling it swimmingly.

Diary Entry: August 17th

You left me a note of your own this morning, a question I wasn’t expecting in the slightest. When I walked into the kitchen and finally cracked open the diary you’d left laying there for me I was shocked. Absolutely and completely shocked.

‘When are you coming home?’

You’re asking Ghost to visit you? For real? I don’t even know how to react, I never thought you’d be the one requesting the company of my masked presence. I guess giving you an option, proving your feelings and your well-being mattered most to me was the right move.

Now I just have to figure out what I’m going to do. I’ll have to plan. I need to think.

I have to be so much more careful now.

Date

August 18th

This is the first time Ghost hasn’t responded when you’ve contacted him. It’s been three days of nothing. He’s not been inside your house at all, no gifts, nothing has been moved, your cat’s bowl is empty when you get home.

His absence is more unsettling that his presence.

You’re beginning to wonder if you’ve angered him by asking about his next visit, was that the wrong thing to do? Did it freak him out? Asking about his plans… did it make him uncomfortable? Or is he tired of the chase now? Now that you’re interested… is it possible he’s lost the adrenaline rush of it all and he won’t be back at all?

There’s no time to ponder or worry right now, yet here you are staring into the foggy mirror in your bathroom post-shower.

“Hey sweetheart?” Anakin’s cheery voice floated to you from under the door.

“In here!” You called out, opening the door up and wiping off the mirror, grateful to have been pulled out of your mind.

“Want help picking something out?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your middle, pressing his nose to the crown of your head to smell your freshly washed hair.

“Mmm yeah if you want.” You nodded, smiling at him in the mirror.

“You excited?” He grinned, poking your sides to hear you giggle.

“Yeah… a little bit nervous though to be honest.” You confessed.

“What? Why? They’ll like you, I have no doubts.” He said with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulders.

“I know, it’s just… what if they don’t?” You asked nervously, looking away from his intense gaze in the mirror.

“They will.” He whispered kissing your temple.

“But what if they don’t?”

“They will, but, if for some reason they don’t then they’re stupid.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But I know they will okay?”

“But Ani I’m worr-“

“Hey.” He said sharply, catching the words before they could leave your lips. “That’s enough.” He said in a softer tone.

He sighed, grabbing the hair brush from the sink countertop. He started brushing through your wet tangles, starting at the ends and working his way up.

“You’re important to me. They know that.” Anakin whispered, kissing your shoulder. “They know you’re something special, trust me. I’ve never brought anyone to meet them before.”

“Seriously?” You whipped your head around with a horrified expression on your face.

“Yeah seriously.” He nodded. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone else.” He gently directed your head back to face the mirror so he could continue brushing your hair.

“That makes it even worse!” You squeaked, slumping over against the sink, your arms crossed on the cold Formica top with your forehead rested on them.

“Why?” He asked as he sat the brush aside and placed his hand on your back, rubbing up and down the soft fabric of the towel around you.

“I’m the first girl you’re bringing home!” You said exasperatedly, “they’re gonna be expecting someone like… like super great and amazing.”

“You are super great and amazing.” He laughed, squeezing your hip and patting it gently.

“But-“

“Baby stop.” He said softly. “You’re gonna work yourself up all over nothin’. Please, just trust me okay? They’re gonna think you’re perfect.”

“Okay.” You sighed, standing back up and turning around to hug him tightly. “Alright. Let’s get ready then.”

“I’m ready.” He said gesturing to his tight grey crewneck and ripped black jeans. “All fancy and shit.”

“I wouldn’t say fancy, but I would say hot.” You grinned.

“Stop.” He chuckled, “should I go change? I can’t have you drooling over me at the dinner table with my parents.”

“No, no don’t change.” You shook your head with a giggle. “I can wait.”

“You can wait?” He gave you a devilishly toothy smile. “Wait for what darlin’? Does baby need some attention?”

He picked you up and sat you on the sink counter, giving your ass a firm squeeze. Immediately bringing one hand to your cheek, his thumb on your chin, he tilted your head to the side and hovered his lips just over your skin. Barely grazing the softness of his lips up the length of your neck to the dip beneath your ear. His free hand rubbing up and down your side, as he finally pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to your sensitive flesh.

“My girl only waits when I say so.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.

He nuzzled into your neck, bringing your ass to the edge of the sink with one arm, using the same hand to slip beneath your towel and travel up your abdomen. The towel fell from where it was tightly tucked at your chest, Anakin’s hand cupping your breast gently as he thumbed at your nipple.

His lips soldered to yours in a passionate caress of lips and tongues, you could taste the minty flavor of the gum he constantly chewed, the forever lingering ghost of cigarettes and the delicious savory flavor that was uniquely him.

He was so good at distracting you with his mouth on yours that he could get away with just about anything and you’d never know until it was too late. Just like now, when you heard his belt buckle clank against the bathroom tiles. You couldn’t help but smile, it was something so simple, but it was one of your favorite things.

The sound will forever be associated with every kiss, every touch, every gasp and breath he’d given you and every intimate moment to come. The jangle of his belt buckle coming loose meant falling apart in his arms, it meant love without saying it aloud.

Anakin snickered as he teased your opening with one finger, swirling it around the outside, never fully dipping inside.

“Greedy little pussy.” His deep bedroom voice never failed to conjure up a gush of slick to your already drenched cunt. “So fucking wet already.”

“Mhm.” You nodded, wiggling your hips closer to his hand or at least you tried to, Anakin held you firmly in place, tsking at your attempt.

“See? Greedy.” He chuckled but gave in anyway, finally pushing in one digit to twirl around your gummy walls while he pumped in and out slowly.

“Can’t help it.” You panted, breathing heavily despite the relief of getting what you wanted, you needed more. “Missed you Ani.”

“Oh poor thing, I missed you too.” He cooed, adding a second finger while he rolled his wrist as he thrusted his fingers deeper.

Just as you were about to speak again, the shrill sound of your phone alarm blared next to you on the counter top, making you both jump.

“Jesus! what the fuck.” He snorted, “pause baby.” He said as he reached over to turn it off and check the time.

“I’m so glad you set shit like that or else we’d never get anywhere on time.” He said with a smile. “Now, hop down and let me bend you over.”

“What we’re doing a quickie?” You teased as you did as requested, sliding off the sink and obediently bending at the waist for him.

“As much as I hate it, yes.” He sighed. “You know I like to take my time.”

He said as he rubbed his rough palm over the swell of your ass, tugging his boxers down with his other hand. He shoved his palm under your chin and tapped your cheek.

“Spit.” His voice was rough and gritty, like he he was straining, fighting not to ram himself into you right that very second.

You spit into his hand, earning a mumbled: “Atta girl.”

He slicked his cock with your saliva, stroking himself quickly with the head of his cock pressed to your entrance, pleasuring himself but just torturing you with the heat of his length.

“Ani!” You whined, pushing your hips back against him.

You’d done exactly what he wanted. The second you pushed back he rammed his cock deep inside your pulsing heat. He set a brutal pace, wrapping one arm around your chest. Your hands instinctively flew up to hold onto his muscled forearm, his grip tightened and you gasped in surprise.

“Christ Anakin.” You breathed out, your eyes wide with shock at this sudden change of pace.

He was a slow and sensual lover, he liked to take his sweet time and caress every curve and kiss every centimeter of flesh that he could reach. But this was completely different, this was pure hunger, hips snapping against your ass at a punishing pace.

His other arm came down your stomach and spread your pussy lips apart to press and pinch the little hard nub that would have you shaking beneath him.

The way he was breathing so heavily in your ear, the hot air fanning over your cheek, it only heightened the feeling. Sending goosebumps down your skin and perking up your nipples again. The sound of your wetness was loud enough to hear with each and every plunge of his cock.

“You like it like this baby?” He chuckled, “sounds like you like it.”

“Uh huh.” You nodded rapidly, gripping his arm tightly as a particularly sharp streak of lightning shot through you.

Your pussy clenched down around his cock and you closed your eyes to concentrate on the feeling the metal jewelry at the tip of his cock gave you as it stroked your insides roughly.

“Making such pretty noises,” he moaned, tilting your head back and to the side using your hair, to properly reach your mouth so he could ravage you with his tongue just as he was with his dick.

“C’mon baby, let me hear it.” He panted, sucking your lip between his teeth.

“That’s it, yeah there’s my girl.” He laughed, watching your eyes roll back until just the whites were visible. Your eyes fluttered shut as your cunt pulsed around him.

“Fuck… Fuck that’s- right there… please?” You whined, trapping his hand right where it was with your fingers digging into his wrist.

“Good manners.” He praised, licking along the length of your jaw. “Good manners baby, so proud.”

“Just like this huh?” He questioned teasingly, a smirk on his lips caught your attention in the foggy mirror. “You like the piercing don’t you baby? Feels good doesn’t it?”

“Fuck yeah.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut tight while you waited for him to push you over the edge. “L-love it. Don’t ever fucking take it out again.”

“Sure thing baby.” He snickered. “You ready sweetheart? Getting close aren’t you?”

“You can cum.” He said as you nodded, his forehead now resting on your shoulder as he drilled into you, rolling your clit between his finger and thumb.

The coil that had been wound tightly in your core snapped with his permission, a high pitched groan eeked out from between your gritted teeth, your cunt leaking down his shaft as he fucked you through the high.

“Lean down.” He said as he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gaping and gasping for breath.

“Perfect.” He groaned, one hand on your waist as you pressed your torso against the sink counter.

He stroked his cock wildly, his fingers digging into the plush of your waist, squeezing soothingly when his chin dropped to his chest and he stiffened up, holding his breath. All you could hear was the sound of his slick hand pumping his swollen length over your ass.

Until finally you felt the warm spurts of cum splatter on your skin, the viscous fluid dribbling down your lower spine until it slid over your ass hole.

“Fuck, that looks so damn pretty.” He breathed heavily, standing back to take in his art work.

“I should take a picture.” He whispered, kneeling behind you with a hand under each ass cheek, he licked up his own cum with a satisfied hum.

——————————————————————————

Approximately an hour after Anakin defiled you in the steamy confines of your bathroom, you were walking hand in hand into one of the nicer restaurants on the outer circle of the city. Meeting his mother terrified you, his stepfather not so much. Anakin didn’t grow up with him, he wasn’t a staple of his childhood.

But his mother was. She was a single parent, worked so incredibly hard to provide for herself and her son. She made sure he had everything he needed and then some, she was truly a saint.

“Chill out.” Anakin whispered, squeezing your hand gently. “You’re okay.”

You nodded and silently let Anakin pull you along behind the host who was leading you to the table where his mother and stepdad waited for you both.

You laid eyes on his mother first and the smile that spread across your lips was genuine. As soon as you saw her your worries started to slip into the backseat of your mind. She exuded a calming atmosphere, she seemed so serene and unbothered. What you’d give to live life like that.

You could see where Anakin got his comforting nature from, especially as she stood up and extended her hand to you. The gentle smile and warmth in the crinkle of her eyes was enough to melt your heart.

“I’m Shmi.” She introduced herself in a soft tone, looking to her side where her husband sat. “This is Cliegg, Anakin’s stepfather.” He gave you a nod and warm smile after clapping Anakin on the back in an awkward side hug.

“It’s great to meet you guys!” You chirped, introducing yourself quickly.

“You too sweetie.” Shmi smiled, moving to envelope her son in a hug.

“Hey momma.” Anakin chuckled, squishing her shorter frame in a big bear hug. “Miss ya.”

“Missed you too hon.” She said quietly, patting his chest before returning to her seat.

She gave Anakin a little smile of approval when he pulled your chair out for you to slide into, you wanted to gush about how grateful you were that she’d raised him to be such a gentleman but you got the feeling that she already knew.

The four of you engaged in a bit of small talk while looking over the menu options, you refrained from even picking up the menu, getting an odd look from Cliegg who just chuckled and shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘suit yourself’. The waiter returned with ice water for everyone and a bottle of wine for the table, getting ready to take orders with their pad and pen at the ready.

After Anakin’s mother and her husband ordered, Shmi looked at you expectantly but you just gave her a small smile as Anakin ordered for the both of you.

“Anakin.” She chided him after the waiter left. “She’s perfectly capable of speaking for herself.”

“I know she is.” He said firmly. “But she shouldn’t have to when I’m perfectly capable of doing it for her.”

“Shmi it’s okay really.” You laughed light, knocking Anakin’s foot with your own as a warning. “I prefer it honestly. I think it’s sweet.”

She gave you an odd look, her face was soft just as it had been the whole night so far, but her eyes conveyed something that you couldn’t quite place.

“Alright sweetie.” She conceded and nodded, the look passing over her eyes just as quickly as it appeared.

Anakin’s arm slid around your waist momentarily to offer some comfort, gently squeezing your hip and tapping his thumb rhythmically while he jumped straight back into the conversation he was having with his stepdad.

“So, Anakin’s told me quite a bit about you.” Shmi said warmly. “He said you’re a waitress and you’re taking classes at the college?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded happily. “The Bluebird Diner, it’s a real great place. Anakin’s a big fan of the butterscotch pie.” You smiled.

“The college… yes I’m taking classes. They’re all going well but I’m not set on a major yet and it’s getting to be the time that I decide.” You sucked in an anxious breath, giving her a nervous look.

“Well that’s perfectly fine.” She said, surprising you with her acceptance of your unplanned career. “I dropped out after my freshman year and didn’t complete my degree until Anakin was in highschool.” She explained.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Anakin’s side profile while he spoke to his stepfather. “Do you mind if I ask why?”

“Why I dropped out?” She asked, leaning back in her chair. “Well it was for a few reasons. Mostly because it’s difficult to work, educate yourself and raise a child alone.”

“I can imagine it would be.” You agreed with a humored smile, expecting to be met with a similar expression by Shmi.

Though you weren’t, instead she had a strange sort of reminiscent look about her. Not the fuzzy feeling of nostalgic reminiscing, more of a moment of remembering something unpleasant.

“Yes.” She nodded, “Anakin didn’t make it any easier.”

“Oh…” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her sudden shift in demeanor.

It seems she noticed your body language change and she quickly corrected herself by breaking out into a smile, sitting back up straighter in her seat.

“But what kid doesn’t?” She laughed lightly, reaching out to pat your hand affectionately.

“Right,” you nodded, chalking up her strange switch up as a mother remembering her rowdy son. It must be hard, seeing him grown up and finally bringing a girl to meet her.

“So how did you two meet?” Shmi asked, turning in her seat to face you fully, giving you her full attention. “Anakin said you’re neighbors?”

“Yeah! Yeah that’s how we met officially.” You nodded.

“Officially?”

“Well we found out after we’d talked a few times that we actually met at the bar he works at.” You explained, “he made a drink for me. I thought he looked like… semi-familiar, you know it’s hard to miss the tattoos.” You smiled.

“Oh that’s very true.” Shmi laughed. “Definitely stands out.”

“Yeah, so we officially met the day he was moving in across the hall from me.”

“Oh you’re telling her about move in day?” Anakin cut in with a big grin on his face.

“Mhm.” You nodded happily, gazing at him with a hint of adoration in your eyes. “Anakin had his stuff strewn out in the hallway and I knocked over a stack of his books.” You laughed and he squeezed your shoulder lightly.

“Yeah, then we chatted for a bit and she noticed a book of mine that she’d lost her copy of, so I gave it to her. That’s how I snatched her up.” He said proudly, gesturing to you with both hands like he was presenting a trophy.

“Huh, who knew you had a little romantic streak?” Cliegg laughed.

“Oh he definitely does!” You agreed eagerly.

“Well Anakin I have to say: I’m extremely impressed you’ve found such a lovely girl.” Shmi said softly, glancing at you with those warm eyes.

“Took you long enough.” His stepdad smacked his upper arm with the back of his hand with a deep laugh.

“Hey, I was holding out for the right one.” Anakin said with a satisfied smile. “I wanted my forever girl and I found her.”

——————————————————————————

The rest of the night went smoothly, no hiccups, no awkward moments, nothing you’d worried about came to fruition. His mother was as sweet as could be and her husband definitely suited her well. All in all, you were happy to have had the opportunity to get to know them. You were proud to be the first girl worthy of meeting them and you were thrilled that they seemed to like you as much as you liked them.

“See? Told you.” Anakin whispered, walking beside you out of the restaurant.

“You were right.” You sighed. “Nothing to worry about.”

“I was what?” He fake gasped, one hand coming up to cover his mouth dramatically.

“You heard me and I’m not repeating it.” You giggled, bumping him with your shoulder.

“Good enough for me princess, I’ll take it.” He smiled, pulling you close and pressing a chaste kiss to your hair.

You said your goodbyes to Anakin’s parents just outside the entrance, a full, loving hug from Shmi and a ‘you’re great but we’re not there yet’ double hand squeeze on one of yours from his stepdad.

You’d just started walk to the car when Shmi called out to Anakin, causing you both to swivel around.

“Ani, sweetheart can you come talk for just a second?” She asked sweetly.

“Oh… yeah okay.” He nodded, handing you the car keys.

“I’ll go see what’s up baby.” He said with a soft tone, “go ahead to the car.”

You followed instructions and did exactly as he asked, climbing into the passenger seat of his car and starting it so you could listen to the radio while Anakin was gone. You didn’t think much of it, it was probably just a bit of an after dinner debrief.

Anakin jogged over to his mom and leaned against Cliegg’s truck while he climbed in, leaving just Shmi and Anakin to speak alone.

“Ani she’s a wonderful girl.” Shmi said, squeezing his arm gently.

“Yeah she is, she’s perfect isn’t she?” He gushed, his pupils widened at just the thought of you.

“Yes-“

“She’s just… everything. She’s everything to me.” He continued, picking up his mothers hand.

“Just w-“

“I mean I really believe she’s the one mom.” He squeezed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles in an affectionate way. “Really I do, she’s perfect. I- I’m so glad you guys like her, I knew you would of course but she was just so nervous and-“

“Anakin!” Shmi said sternly, her voice quickly going back to a calm tone after getting his attention.

“Anakin, sweetie, I’m so glad you’ve found your person.” She started slowy, holding eye contact with her son’s intense gaze. “I’m proud of you, you know that don’t you?”

“Yeah of course-“

“I’m proud of you. You’re a good boy honey.” She said quietly, “she’s a sweet girl, she deserves the best.”

“Well yeah she does, of course she does and-“

“Are you being your best?” Shmi asked him, her voice turning hard, alittle sharp. “Swear to me, Anakin. Swear you are?”

“Yes mom.” He sighed as though he were expecting this conversation.

“Are you still taking your medicine? Seeing your doctor?” She asked worriedly.

“Really?” He scoffed. “Please, let’s just drop it. This was a good day, please don’t ruin it by worrying over nothing.”

“Are you though?”

“Yes!” He hissed, clenching his teeth tightly. “Yes I’m still seeing the doctor and taking the stupid pills, yes.”

“Good. Very good.” She breathed a sigh of relief at his compliance.

“Don’t ask me if she knows.” Anakin said sternly. “She doesn’t.”

“You can’t just keep that from her, she has a right to know Anakin!”

“It’s not the right time for that.” He raised his voice slightly. “She doesn’t need to know yet. I’ll tell her on my own terms.”

“But you can’t-“

“I said: I’ll tell her on my own terms.” He breathed deeply, keeping his temper in check. “Please mom, just… just be happy for me okay? I’m doing really good, I’m happy. Please just let me be happy.”

“Alright.” She sighed, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry sweetie, I shouldn’t have questioned you like that.”

“It’s okay. I know you worry.” He mumbled, pulling her into a hug, his hand rubbing between her shoulder blades.

“I- I just so badly want you to be happy.” She said quietly. “I want you to be safe, happy, and loved. You deserve to be loved.”

“I am loved.” Anakin whispered, his voice rough, “You love me. Cliegg loves me. Owen probably loves me. I think she might love me too.”

“You think so?” She asked in a brighter tone.

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded, pulling back with a soft smile.

Diary Entry: August 18th

I love my mother, but she worries too much. Talking to me like I’m some child to be coddled and babysat. I don’t need her or anyone else to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, especially when it comes to you, my little doe.

I know what’s best for you, for our relationship, and it’s my opinion that you don’t need to burden yourself with my past transgressions. I’m a changed man, what I did as a teenager, as a kid, has no reflection on who I am today.

Telling you about it is out of the question. At least for now… but, it’d probably be for the best to never, ever speak of it. I just don’t see the point in sharing something like that with you when it would cause your pretty little head to worry over something so irrelevant to the present.

Not to mention the stupid fucking doctor. It was ridiculous, asking me such a personal question when she knows very well that it upsets me when she interrogates me like that. It’s none of her business anymore, I’m not a child, I can take care of myself.

If anything, her questioning and distrust makes me want to do it even less just to prove that I can live without it.

I don’t need to see a fucking shrink if I’m taking the pills right? It’s overkill to do both. I don’t need to talk about my feelings, I don’t need to tell a stranger all about my past and the questionable things I’ve done. That’s why I have a journal and I think it suits me just fine.

Just another reason why I love you so much. You’ve helped me by getting me into writing stuff down instead of keeping it bottled up. You’re responsible for the thing that helps keep me from spiraling, you should be so proud of yourself, showing me this A+ coping skill.

It’s way better than: ‘Breathe in… breathe out… focus on your surroundings and count the things you can see and feel.’

Like what the hell is that? What’s that supposed to do? Distract me? Yeah right.

It can’t distract me from what’s going on in my head. Not when it’s so much all at once, all the time. It was exhausting to pretend that something like that was working for me. Journaling is so much better. So much easier.

It’s real and it’s tangible. I can flip through the pages and return to the good things, or I can skip over the bad stuff but take comfort in knowing that I was able to write it down.

So fuck the shrink, I’m not going back. I haven’t been in months and I’m doing perfectly fine.

Diary Entry: August 20th

I cannot for the life of me figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I’m grasping at straws here, trying to figure out how to handle the Ghost situation.

I can tell you’re getting annoyed.

How am I supposed to respond? I know it’s been days but I can’t bring myself to answer the texts, the notes, the questions shouted into your otherwise empty home.

Hopefully you’ll understand, though I acknowledge that you have every reason to be upset with me. I’m assuming you’re feeling some sort of betrayal after the letter… I hate that. I really hate it. But it’s unavoidable.

You responded extremely well to my offer and the opportunity for a choice. So I’ll just do that again. That sounds reasonable, I’ll give a bit of an explanation, little apology and then I’ll let you choose what happens next.

This is what happens when I don’t fully plan ahead. I fuck things up and then it’s just a gommed up mess.

Then the whole situation with my mother really threw me off. It just added another layer of ‘what the hell’ to my already high stack of self imposed problems.

I want to do something. I need to do something. I have shit to get off my chest.

Date

August 22nd

Finally, finally Ghost has gotten back in contact with you.

Now that the little grey envelope is sitting on your nightstand… you almost don’t want to open it. After all the silence on his end it’s impossible to guess what he has to say. Though as you’re convincing yourself not to open it, it’s found it’s way into your hand.

LETTER

Little Doe,

My absence was unexpected for you as well as myself, for that I apologize. I would go into detail if I could but unfortunately we both know that I can’t do that.

Let’s just say that my life got a bit complicated and I had to take a moment to iron things out. Now that everything is starched and pressed it’ll be back to business as usual.

While I was gone I took some time to consider your question as well. So I’ll match you with a question of my own.

I’ve been… stressed to say the very least. I don’t like to be destructive, I’m not that kind of guy. So I was wondering if you’d help me out, give me a bit of an alternative rage release?

Don’t lie, I know you’re curious. I know you want me just as badly as I want you. I bet you’re wet just reading this, aren’t you? I think it’s high time for you to be conscious enough to really enjoy everything I’m giving you. Don’t you agree?

I heard you like it rough. Is that true princess? I’ll give you rough, just say the word and I’ll make sure you’ve got marks that’ll last for weeks.

Next half of the question: here or elsewhere?

You sure do love to show off that little body of yours. I wonder if that would translate over into your sex life if you’d let it.

Your choice little doe.

——————————————————————————

‘He did not just ask me that… did he?’

You stared at the letter in your hands, your mind going well over the speed limit on the road to rational thinking. It was tempting, oh so very tempting. He’s right of course, he always is, you are curious. You do want him, maybe even need him.

It’s obvious he’s more than capable of giving you what you needed, what you wanted. The man had you feigning for him for weeks with no relief, all from teasing you, all while you were unaware.

It would be… interesting to see for yourself in the waking world what he’s done to you in dreamland. It’s alright if it’s for research purposes isn’t it? Is it really cheating if you don’t know the person at all, his identity is a complete mystery; that should count for something right?

Just a smidgen of a mitigating factor would be enough to sway you to say yes.

“Hey.” You called out, waving your hand as if he were there with you and you were trying to get his attention. “You listening?”

*Ping* a text came through almost immediately: ‘Always.’

“You’re serious about this?” You asked, holding the stationary in one hand, gesturing to it with your other.

‘I’m always serious.’

“Right.” You sighed, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged. “I don’t think this would be very kind of me to do. I just met Anakin’s mother, our relationship is getting serious.”

‘Congrats. What does that have to do with my need to fuck you?’

“Uh everything.” You scoffed. “That’s cheating. I don’t want to cheat on him!”

‘Defensive are we?’

“Yes,” you hissed, scrubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand, “very defensive for good reason.”

‘I admire your loyalty, but be honest with yourself little doe.’

“I am being honest! I don’t want to cheat on him!” You shouted back.

‘You didn’t say that you didn’t want me to fuck your though.’

“Christ.” You mumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I didn’t say that. You’re right.” You conceded.

‘Then it’s a yes?’

“Not necessarily.” You snapped, the true answer was right there, clawing away in the cage of your teeth.

‘So no then.’

“That’s not what I said.” You said hastily, alittle too eager to correct him.

‘I see.’

“What?” You scoffed, staring at the message that’d popped up.

Another followed, this time a voice message. You hesitated before pressing play, holding your phon up to your ear to hear it clearly. His gravely distorted voice washed over you in all its unholy temptation.

“Don’t worry little doe. I know just what you need.” He paused for a moment as if considering something, “It’s been a while since you’ve had a night out. Go have some fun, I’ll catch up with you.”

“Oh no. Absolutely not. You’re not knocking me out cold again.” You said angrily.

‘Of course not. I want you to be awake for this.’

“Then… then why do you want me to go to the bar?” You asked suspiciously.

‘Surprise :)’

“Fuck.” You muttered, rubbing your temples before picking up your phone to message Luke and Han, as well as your good friend from book club.

“Just to be perfectly clear: I’m not saying yes!” You said, looking around the room with a red tint to your cheeks.

‘Not a no either.’

You could practically hear his voice, that teasing tone you knew all too well. What an ass, a stupid sexy ass.

DATE

August 24th

“Oh look at you princess.” Anakin whistled wrapping his arms around your waist when you walked out of your bedroom in a sweet little pink dress.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” He mumbled and he nuzzled into your hair, taking a deep breath to smell the scent of your shampoo.

“Oh hush,” you giggled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “can’t be saying stuff like that, you’re gonna get me all flustered.”

“What if I want you to be all flustered?” He chuckled, tipping your head back to capture your lips and invade your mouth with a gentle caress of his tongue.

“Mmm taste as good as you look baby.” He whispered, his words fanning over your bottom lip and straight down to your core.

“Anakin…” you whined, looking up at him and wishing for mercy.

“Shhh don’t whine.” He laughed, pinching your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “I’ll quit teasin’… for now.”

“But you do look gorgeous you know?” He said sincerely, very lightly touching your cheek so as not to mess up your makeup.

“Thank you Ani.” You said shyly, leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his nose.

“So what’s the plan again? Dinner at that one Thai place you like? Then you’re going to the bar?” He asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter, his hands resting on the countertop at his sides.

“Yep that’s the plan.” You nodded, checking your bag to ensure you had everything you needed.

“Call me when you get there? You’re walking aren’t you?” He asked, looking at you with a gaze of concern that warmed your heart.

“Yes I’m walking and yes I will call when I get to the restaurant and I’ll text when I’m leaving.” You promised, tossing your mini backpack over your shoulder and giving him a hug and soft kiss.

“Alright sweetheart, I’ll see you at the bar.” He said in a low tone, smoothing out your hair as he held you close for a moment longer.

You left your home and Anakin behind, trotting down the steps to the city streets below. A walk would be good for you, plenty of time to think and plenty of time to clear your head of those thoughts before you reach your destination.

——————————————————————————

Diary Entry: August 24th

I’m so excited. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to do something for you.

I know it’s a bit presumptuous, but I think I know you fairly well and if you’re reading those nasty, raunchy books on your bookshelf… well I think it’s safe to say you might be interested in some of it for yourself right? You already think a man in a Ghostface mask with a knife is sexy.

I’m gonna give you what I think you like. I know I will love it. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time but I was always alittle too chicken to do it. Even before we started dating, before you knew about Ghost. It’s been a fantasy of mine that I’ve thought of way more often than I’ll ever admit.

But now I have your unspoken permission, well at least your non-denial of it. Which isn’t technically consent but who cares; it’s been so blurred between us already.

Honestly its super comforting the way that you so vehemently defend our relationship. I’ve never had someone go to bat for me like that before, it’s endearing. It makes me feel cared for, loved, needed.

I know it’s hypocritical, trust me I know that; but it does kind of get on my nerves as well. I want you to say yes and say it enthusiastically to Ghost. At the same time I want you to scream and kick and tell him to fuck off.

Being jealous of both sides of myself is frankly quite exhausting. I don’t know what I want other than you. I just want you. I want you to want both of me and you do, but that’s also a problem.

You think I’m two separate people and that makes me a tad worried.

The only comfort it brings me is that you aren’t enthusiastically saying yes. You’re denying the truth of course, we both know that. But you’re also keeping some loyalty to our relationship and for that I am so eternally grateful.

I love the way you love me even if you haven’t said it aloud just yet. You will soon.

——————————————————————————

Your group of friends were gathered outside the restaurant, as the last one to arrive, you of course received a light dose of good natured insults and chiding.

“There she is!” Your best girl friend Sam yelled, pointing you out to Luke and Han as you walked up the sidewalk.

“Finally! I’m starving!” Luke sighed liked he’d been waiting hours, according to your phone you were still two minutes early.

“Shut up and let’s get some food.” You snorted, pushing him through the door and into the yummy little Thai place.

After getting settled into your cozy corner booth you placed your orders and slipping into the familiar routine of gossiping and story swapping.

“How did meeting the parents go?” Luke asked, propping his chin up on the heel of his hand, his fingers drumming along his cheek.

“It went so smooth and oh my god his mom is so sweet.” You said, leaning forward in your seat.

“I was so worried they wouldn’t like me, but I think they did. Anakin said they did, I mean they really seemed to at least.” You nodded.

“Oh I’m sure they loved you. You’re the perfect girl to bring home to the parents. You’re the whole package.” Sam smiled warmly.

“You’re too sweet, giving me way too much credit.” You sighed, your smile faltering slightly.

“Anyway… yeah his mom was great. I think she was just alittle worried you know? I’m the first girl he’s brought to meet them so I feel like there was a bit of worry there at the beginning.” You explained, talking with your hands.

“She was talking about him as a kid and she just looked so… sad I guess?” You sighed, trying to find a better word to describe it but came up short. “So I think maybe she was just sad about him growing up, finally finding someone he wants to be serious with.”

“That’s so sweet.” Sam said, squeezing your hand. “I didn’t realize you were the first girl he’d brought them.”

“Yeah,” you nodded proudly. “He said he was waiting for the right one.”

“Ew that’s so gross.” Luke gagged.

“Fuck off.” You tossed a good natured insult at him, rolling your eyes despite feeling an immense sense of accomplishment… maybe a hint of guilt there too.

After the meal was finished, you all walked together out of the restaurant and set out on foot toward The Cerulean. A leisurely pace was set by Han and Luke who were happily at the head of the group while you and Sam hung back just a few steps behind.

“So he’s gonna be here tonight?” Sam asked curiously.

“Oh, yeah but he’s working though.” You said.

“Wait really?” She asked in surprise. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would that bother me? If anything it’s comforting.” You scoffed.

“Well he’s like… he’s just there you know? Not participating he’s just gonna be watching.” She made a displeased face.

“Trust me, I have no qualms with being… looked out for.” You smirked.

“So you don’t mind that he’s going to be watching you the whole night?”

“No, I don’t.” You shrugged, walking the through the door as Luke held it open for the two of you to enter.

You broke off from your friends in search of Anakin, you spotted him behind the bar, animatedly speaking with a coworker that you vaguely remember Anakin referring to as ‘Trev’.

It was like you had some sort of homing beacon, Anakin immediately whipped his head toward you and beckoned you over with two fingers. He trotted around the bar to meet you halfway, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you flush against his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“How was dinner, pretty girl?” He asked, his voice low and smooth.

“It was good!” You chirped, squeezing him tightly again before he let you go. “Told them allllll about meeting your parents.”

“Good things only I hope?” He laughed.

“Of course. Good things only, always.” You nodded with a big smile.

“It’s not nearly as busy in here as usual.” You observed, scanning the large space and noticing a much lower head count than the times you’ve been here before.

“Oh I know,” Anakin nodded, “there’s some kind of opening anniversary for a pub downtown. Free beer or something like that.” He shrugged.

“Huh, well I’ll have to tell Han.” You said.

“Mhm yeah I’m sure he’d enjoy it.” He agreed, “you going too?”

“No, I’m going home when I leave here.” You shook your head.

“Alright baby, listen, I gotta go back.” He nodded toward the bar. “You know where to find me.”

With that he gave you a chaste kiss to the forehead and quickly walked back behind the counter, stealing a drink order right from under Trevor’s nose as he slid in front of him, you heard him snicker and the *thwap* of a towel snapping against his leg in retaliation as you walked back to your friends.

You spotted them off to the corner, Sam speaking with a shorter man you’d never seen before. You snuck behind her with a cheeky grin and tugged a lock of her hair gently as you passed by, she was unfazed, simply giving you a pink cheeked smile.

“Hey Han,” you called out to get his attention as you drew closer, his head following the sound until he saw you. “You know there’s a bar even going on downtown tonight?” You asked, coming to a stop just in front of him.

“Yeah, it’s at The Drunken Horseman.” He nodded, “I think a few of the guys were headed out there actually. Free beer.”

“W-well why didn’t you go?” You asked in confusion, knowing he wouldn’t have just passed it up for no reason.

“Cause a little lady I know likes it better here.” He grinned, tapping your forehead with his pointer finger.

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that Han.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. “You should’ve said something!”

“Whoa, don’t get all riled up. I don’t mind it at all.” He reassured you. “I can still do plenty of people watching from right here.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the table top he leaned against.

He waved his hand over to the left, your eyes following the gesture until your gaze was met with a younger guy, unapologetically and unsuccessfully trying to speak to a group of girls despite being seemingly incredibly wasted.

“I guess that’s true.” You laughed lightly, the pull of guilt still tugging at your guts.

“Listen, after we’re done here you should go!” You encouraged, “I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get to do something that you wanna do.”

“Babes it’s no big deal.” Luke said, popping out from his seat behind Han’s massive frame. “I think we planned on skipping out a bit early to do exactly that.”

“Really?” You sighed in relief. “Good, I’m glad.”

“We did?” Han asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Uh yes, we had a whole conversation about this yesterday you oaf.” Luke scoffed.

“Oaf?” Han let out a loud, bellowing laugh at Luke’s poor attempt at an insult, making a little smile creep up the corner of your lips as well.

——————————————————————————

You decided collectively to call it a night just a little before 11:00pm so that Luke and Han could still catch Han’s group of friends at The Drunken Horseman. You said your goodbyes to them at the door and turned to face Sam after watching them leave.

“Are you positive you’re okay with walking home alone?” She asked you worriedly, “like absolutely positive?”

“Yes, I’m absolutely positive.” You said with an appreciative smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Okay.” She nodded, satisfied with your answer.

“You better do the same.” You said, catching her arm as she started to leave with the man she’d been chatting with all night.

“I will,” she signaled for him to wait while she got up close to whisper to you, “I looked him up when I went to the bathroom earlier. Arrest records and everything.”

“Good.” You grinned. “Have fun then.”

You spun on your heel to find Anakin and tell him goodbye, heading straight to the bar and catching him in another conversation. This time with a female patron that you’d seen before.

“I don’t understand.” She scoffed.

“What don’t you understand?” He scowled.

“I just don’t get why you’re mean to me!” She huffed. “I come in here all the time and I’m always nice to you, yet you’re an ass every time I speak to you!”

“Then stop speaking to me.” He said flatly, pretending to inspect a glass that he was drying.

“I should report you to management.”

“Please do.” Anakin shot back.

“They’ll fire you, for being rude to customers.” She threatened, crossing her arms.

“They’ll ban you, for harassing employees.” He snorted.

“God. You’re ridiculous, I asked you out one time-“

“Yeah and it was one time too many.” He snapped at her.

“I have a beautiful, wonderful, amazing girlfriend.” He said sternly. “She is my everything and you, are nothing.”

“Like she’s-“

“Listen. Even if I didn’t have a girlfriend I wouldn’t go after a whore with loud ass mouth like you.” He snarled. “Leave. I’m banning you myself.”

“You can’t do that!” She yelled

“He can’t do what?” His coworker Trevor came over quickly after hearing her shout at Anakin.

“He- he’s trying to ban me.” She said angrily.

“What did you do?” Trevor asked the girl and looked over at Anakin.

“Nothing! I was just trying to order a drink and he called me a whore!”

“I did call her a whore.” Anakin willingly admitted with zero remorse.

“Wait is this the one?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah, she’s been bugging me, Jason and Stevie for the last few weeks. Comes in every now and again and won’t take a fucking hint from any of us.” Anakin grunted as he glanced over at her.

“That’s not true I w-“

“Nope. That’s enough.” Trevor said, obviously irritated, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her.

“Hey you can’t do that!” She shouted trying to grab his phone.

“You’re going on the wall honey.” He said, thumbing over his shoulder at a cork board of banned patrons.

“You’re serious?” She scoffed, “you can’t be serious.”

“Deadly. Now get out.” Trevor barked, following her angry path across the bar to ensure that she did in fact leave.

“Baby?” Anakin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you realized you’d been standing there with your mouth open as he tapped the underside of your chin.

“Anakin you didn’t tell me it was that bad.” You said, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, now standing in front of you.

“Ah.” He grumbled.

“I didn’t want to worry you sweetheart.” He said softly, taking both your hands in his. “She’s not coming back now so nothin’ to worry yourself over.” He said with a reassuring smile.

“That’s just awful though. She was doing that to three of you?” You asked in disgust.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Doesn’t happen often. Usually it’s April and Jess who get the creeps but every now and again there’s a girl who does it.”

“How much did you hear baby?” He asked, pushing hair from your face and holding your cheek.

“Just the tail end of it.” You lied.

“You know I’d never even entertain something like that don’t you, princess?” He asked, lines of worry etching into his forehead, “Never, I’d never even breathe in the direction of another woman.”

“I know.” You said with a small smile, you were being truthful. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about his faithfulness, especially now after witnessing him tear into a girl over it.

“I know I have nothing to worry about.” You said, giving his hands a squeeze.

You might not, but Anakin does. Anakin does have to worry about your faithfulness whether he knows it or not; there’s a Ghost haunting every corner of your life that has no plans on leaving anytime soon.

“Good.” He said with a warm smile, pulling you into a hug. “Are you leaving?” He asked, pulling g back slightly.

“Yeah I’m headed home now.” You nodded.

“Alright pretty girl.” He said, kissing your forehead. “Be good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home?”

“Of course.” You nodded with a big smile that faded as soon as you turned around to leave.

——————————————————————————

“I saw your girl leaving, you headed out now?” Trevor asked Anakin as he was untying his apron.

“Yep, I’m leaving too.” Anakin nodded, folding the apron and tucking it under the counter. “Unless you need me to stay?”

“Thanks for coming in to help out man.” Trevor said, clapping him on the back. “We got it from here.”

“No problem, you know I don’t mind.” Anakin said, grabbing his wallet and keys. “See ya.”

Anakin left hastily stopping at his car in the back parking lot to grab his essentials. He checked his phone and saw that you’d made an unexpected stop at the little corner store for what he assumed was a snack.

“Perfect.” He grinned, tossing his hoodie over his head and switching out his shoes.

He tucked his mask under his arm and hopped into his car, parking it up the road a bit closer to where you were, just to get it out of his work parking lot. He jumped out, locked it and slipped into the nearest alley. He grumbled but hopped the fence at the end and continued down until he hit the opposite street, running parallel to the one you’d be taking.

“One… two… three… four… there.” He mumbled to himself as he passed by alleys between buildings until he found the one he was looking for.

This particular place was perfect for his purposes, no cameras, no foot traffic, no dumpster, a brick wall on one end and a recessed entrance to the building on the left. A building that was currently up for lease, leaving it tenant free. He scaled the short brick wall on his side of the alley, using the dumpster there as a boost.

Anakin’s sneakers hit the pavement with a satisfying noise when he dropped down from above. He tugged on his gloves and mask, hitting the side button on the voice box while he walked up the alleyway, his phone in his hand.

Your little blue dot was quickly approaching and his adrenaline was running high. His body practically vibrating in anticipation of what he was about to do, with your footsteps in audible range he tucked his phone away and bunched up a black handkerchief in the palm of his leather glove.

Your long shadow came into view, the lamppost casting it down on the side walk below. It shortened with each step you took. Seeing no shadow behind you, no other footsteps, Anakin knew it was safe to enact his plan.

The very second you came into view he lunged forward, clapping his hand with the bandanna in it over your mouth. Instinctively you parted your lips to scream, allowing him to shove the fabric in your mouth as he dragged you by waist and under your arms as you kicked and thrashed.

Part Eleven

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrott @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.